#disclaimer: this is absolutely just meant as a start i have some deeper cuts in my back pocket but I'd be here all day

[redjennies]

do you have any waylon song recs? ive only ever really listened to johnny cash and willie nelson out of the highwaymen

sorry to this specific anon that this is like three days later and also to everyone else that I'm still harping on about this, but on the off chance that you've never heard the Waylon & Willie album, I think you should check that out first. I'm a big fan of their cover of Kristofferson's Don't Cuss the Fiddle off that album. it's not my favorite album for either of them but it's worth a skim for something familiar.

(plus Willie Nelson is a fucking legend and deserves every bit of fame he has.)

for like Waylon specifically, there's a pretty good The Essential Waylon Jennings album on Spotify. I realize that's such a copout but it's also two hours of a pretty good start for the singles. if I recall correctly, it's also in chronological order of release if you want a feel for the evolution. as for absolute musts if you don't wanna listen to all of it (even though you should):

stop the world (and let me off)

only daddy who will walk the line

this time

I'm a ramblin' man

rainy day woman

waymore's blues

good hearted woman

I've always been crazy

don't you think this outlaw bit has done got out of hand

I ain't living long like this

(there's a lot more like I keep going "oh and this oh and this" but I would call this more the essentials of the essentials)

also I would seriously recommend listening to Waylon Jennings cover of I Walk The Line of the album "I've Always Been Crazy" if you want to hear for yourself why I think Waylon Jennings is "Johnny Cash if Johnny Cash was better" because hoo, boy once you get to the part (and you will hear the part), you are never gonna want to listen to the Cash version again. hilariously on the next song on the album, he covers Tonight The Bottle Let Me Down and jokes "eat your heart out, Haggard" in the middle of it, which is adorable, but like I am not even remotely kidding around when I say Jennings' I Walk the Line is "eat your heart out, Cash."

actually go listen to the album I've Always Been Crazy by Waylon Jennings, beginning to end. I love it. there are probably better albums but that's the one I listened to while writing this and it's fantastic.

[marerosa]

G O O D G I R L ?

|| rodrigo sanchez x jim street

disclaimer ; the content below is 18+ if a minor or uncomfortable with sexual themes please click away, I am not responsible for the media you consume or interact with

summary ; a nickname meant to be a jab quickly leads to something else when Street turns red at the words

notes ; @blathannabeaga it’s here!!! I have finished the rarest pair fic ever!!!

warnings ; street being feminine, pet names, swearing, top sanchez, bottom street, m receiving oral

────────────────────────

-

It starts as a way to make Street angry, get him riled up, maybe piss him off enough for him to snap and Sanchez to get an excuse to punish him. But. Then the words slip out halfway through Street getting fucked so harshly there's bruises blooming on his hips, and Street moans so loud he sounds like he's about to burst.

It throws Sanchez for obvious. Who would've thought Street would like to be called "good girl" in bed? Certainly not what Rodrigo expected when they started sleeping together.

That doesn't mean he won't use it to his advantage, which he has, he's been throughly abusing the power of knowing Streets really just a slut. Whispering a "pretty girl" or "such a good girl" while they're at work, watching with a smirk when Street attempts to hide his blushing cheeks and his thighs squeeze together as if that's anything compared to how good Sanchez fucks him.

It drives Snachez up a wall when they finally make it to his apartment and Streets already a tousled mess, begging Sanchez to fuck him, babbling about how he'll be so good, only for Rodrigo to slyly ask "you gonna be a good girl for me?" while Street practically melts under the words.

Tonight's no different. If anything it's heightened, because all of shift Street was a flustered mess from Sanchez telling him how hot he looked in the new swat issued pants Hicks bought, how Snachez "couldn't wait to fuck his pretty girl that night"— Street was barely keeping it together.

Which is how they find themselves moving so quickly through the motions of Street ripping off Sanchez's clothes while Rodrigo took his sweet damn time, he always loves undressing Street but by bit, relishing in how he squirms the closer Sanchez gets to his pants zipper.

"Take it, fucking hell-." He did move just the smallest bit faster tonight. Deciding to have a heart and put Street out of his misery, which seems to have worked in his favor as Streets knees hit the floor almost immediately and he's currently being throat fucked as hard as Rodrigo can.

"Such a good girl, so good for me princess." Streets cheeks flush undeniably red under the praise, drool dripping down his chin as he gags on Sanchez's thick cock, barely even keeping his eyes open from how fast his throats being abused.

“That’s a good girl, deeper for me baby.” Rodrigo has honestly never been one for pet names or anything other than some swearing, but he’s seen how much it affects Street. And absolutely loves seeing the way Streets knees fall open against the floor, almost grinding into the hardwood, tented through his boxers and head completely empty aside from Sanchez.

“Fuck, fuck, swallow for me princess, come on, come o-!” The sentence gets cut short as Sanchez shoots hot ropes of come into Streets mouth, smiling through hooded eyes at how Street greedily swallows it down, staying perfectly obedient on his knees while wiping at his spit covered chin.

“That’s my good girl.”

[thestarrynightslover]

It’s a Good Day to Have a Bad Date

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Word count: 2,383

Warnings: Slight mentions of an OC with criminal priors, violent tendencies, and a juvenile record. A teeny-tiny bit of angst.

Summary: The reader meets Jay as she's trying to find out stuff about the guy she's about to go out with and ends up switching dates.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the One Chicago shows, or its characters, also not associated with it in any way or know anyone involved with it.

A/N: Just to make one thing clear: I did some research on Illinois's laws  (not sure I got it right tho) and, apparently, this fic is very inaccurate. But I really wanted to pursue the idea, so just humor me, please 🙏🏻. Anyways, I had a lot of fun while writing this and thought about making a part two... But I'm not sure. Tell me what you think! 💗

| masterlist |

You inhaled deeply one more time before you walked into the police district. There wasn’t even a real reason for you to be so nervous about it. You weren’t a victim and you weren’t a criminal. So, what’s the worst that could happen? 

The worst that could happen was, of course, you getting a bunch of cops mad at you because you went to waste their time with some pathetic whining. It was decided, you were gonna turn back around right now, while you still had time, and just go home.

On second thought, though, it was a matter of public safety. Your safety. Which was just as valid because you were just as much of a U.S. citizen as anyone else. So you went in. 

Shit. The place was almost empty, which meant everyone would notice if you left. And they’d ask questions, so you figured you’d, at least, get ahead of them, as you walked shyly towards the front desk. There, you were met by an older woman who looked bored, and still, terrifying.

“Can I help you with something?” She asked you, while cautiously checking you out. Oh my God, she thought you could be a victim! You were such an idiot.

“Um, it’s, um, it’s actually nothing, really. I shouldn’t even have come here in the first place.” You told her while smiling a little. What you didn’t know was that what you said had only raised more flags in the sergeant’s mind, even catching the attention of a tall man writing some things down on a paper at the corner of the counter. The young detective stayed back because he knew that Platt would know how to manage the situation, but continued listening to every word of the conversation.

The sergeant, then, took her glasses off, setting them on the counter. “Listen, miss, my name is Trudy Platt and the reason why I became a cop was that I wanted to help people, in every way that I possibly could. So, if you need my help with anything, just tell me what it is. And, I promise, I’ll do everything in my power to give it to you.” She assured you and, as much as you felt this huge sympathy for the woman, you also felt even worse about making her waste her time. So you tried to fix things.

“Oh, my God! I’m so, so, so sorry! I’m not a victim in any way, thank God. I said that I shouldn’t have come here because I’m not even sure if what I wanted to ask is legal…” You told her with a nervous laugh. Hearing that, the Sergeant’s eyes sparked with curiosity.

“Well, then I probably won’t be able to help you.” She told you, stressing the ‘probably’ and making the man at the end of the counter shamelessly turn his face in your direction in order to better hear your conversation. “But… Since you’re already here, and it’s been such a slow day for the District, maybe you should just ask me whatever you want to and I’ll be the judge of whether that’s legal or not. After all, unless you’re some sort of lawyer, I should know more about the law than the average civilian.” The Sergeant skilfully baited you.

“Um, no, I’m not a lawyer.” You confirmed with a small laugh while tugging some of your hair behind your ear. “Actually, since I’ve just recently moved here to Chicago ⎼ to Illinois, really ⎼, I’m probably a lot below your average civilian.” You stated with a giggle. At that, the guy that had lost his discretion about eavesdropping started chuckling a little himself, to which the older woman responded with a look you’d absolutely hate having directed to you.

“So, Chuckles, you have nothing better to do than to stay here listening to other people’s conversations?”

“First of all, it’s detective,” he started in a mocked smug tone, “and, second: no, uh, I actually don’t. I came to fill this paperwork down here exactly because we were about to kill each other upstairs, just to get out of the boredom.” He added, raising some paper files he had in-hand. “Besides, you know how much I, too, love to help people.” He said while shooting you a charming smile. Okay, that guy was pretty handsome. “Jay Halstead, nice to meet you.” The detective informed you, holding out his hand.

“Right, um, nice to meet you too, sir.” You replied, shaking his hand. “I didn’t even say my name, what a clums!” You joked while patting yourself on the forehead. “I’m (y/n) (y/l/n).”

“Okay, just, please, lose the ‘sir’ with that one, otherwise, he’ll never let it go.” Trudy chipped back in the conversation.

“So, what was it that you wanted to ask the sarge? I can assure you that we’ll let you know if it’s illegal. After all, two judges are better than one.” He suggested, all smiles.

“Since when?” The sergeant practically barked at the younger man, just to add: “You know what? You wanna be here at my front desk, Halstead? Then be here, but be quiet and let the lady talk.” She bluntly ordered him, who decided to do as he was told.

“Alright, um, it’s just that this guy who I don’t really know anything about asked me out and I said yes, even though I got a bad vibe from him?” They just stared at you with their jaws dropped, so you added: “Pathetic, I know. But I didn’t really wanna judge him without any proof, or anything like that, so I figured that, maybe, I could try and check if he has any criminal priors or something.” You finished with a tiny embarrassed smile.

“And why on Earth would you think that we could give you this type of information?” The sergeant asked you, her expression being one of pure shock.

“I, uh…” You didn’t really want to embarrass yourself even more but felt the urge to explain anyways. “It’s just that I’m a small-town girl, okay? And, over there, everybody knew my family, so, whenever I wanted to go out with someone, my dad would just ask his buddies at the Sheriff’s office to look the guy over. And he always told me that that was really important, so, when I moved to the state’s capital, I just wouldn’t go out with anyone unless a close friend vouched for him. Because I was terrified of what I’d see and hear on the news. But here… I don’t really know anyone yet.” You blurted it all out, to two strangers! To two cops who probably had something, or somethings, better to do than to listen to your whining. “Anyhow, I’m really sorry that I wasted your time, guys. Won’t happen again.” At that, they exchanged a look, and the sergeant said:

“You know what? You’re right, kid. The world is a dangerous place. And, unfortunately, it is even more dangerous for us women. So I’m gonna look the guy up. But I’m not gonna tell you exactly what it says if something comes up.” She told you, much for your surprise, and, then, turned to the detective, saying: “If you say a single word about this to anyone, and I mean anyone, Chuckles, I swear to God that I’ll cut your tongue out myself.”

“Geez, sarge. How can you swear such an ugly thing like that to God?” He asked her, in a mockery tone, while making a hilarious expression.

“Ha! Keep that up and your tongue won’t be the only thing I’m gonna cut.” She threatened him again and you couldn’t help but burst into laughter when he made a shocked expression and put his hands protectively over his crotch.

“For your information, I wanna help the girl just as much as you, so I wouldn’t say anything. You didn’t have to threaten me.” He tried to recover, as you handed her a small piece of paper with your possible date’s name.

“Oh, I know. But I wasn’t about to miss out on the opportunity.” She shot back at him while typing the name on the District’s computer. “Okay, here it is... Wow."

"What? What is it?" You asked her, as you watched the detective perk himself over the counter to look at the screen.

"Jesus. This guy's got himself quite a rap sheet." He commented, making you shiver, thinking of what could happen to you, if you went on with the date.

"What exactly do you mean by that, detective?" You asked the man who probably noticed your discomfort, because he spoke again, in a tranquilizing tone:

"No, relax. It's nothing too bad, like violent or anything. But there's some pretty nasty stuff here." He told you, not really making you relax.

"There's something here, though." That caught the detective's eye again. "His juvenile record is sealed, the only thing I can see without a warrant is an observation from his caseworker. She says something about him having violent tendencies." She told you with a sigh, taking her glasses off again. "Look, I know that I can't tell what to do and what to not do, (y/n), but, as a suggestion? Stay the hell away from this piece of work. You seem like a nice enough girl, I'd hate to see you come in here as a victim someday."

“Oh, God, no! I heard you loud and clear, sergeant! Don’t worry about it, I’m canceling that date ASAP!” You exclaimed, agreeing with her.

“That’s great!” The detective spoke this time, sounding a little too happy about the fact that you were about to cancel a date with a man who had criminal priors and violent tendencies. So both you and the other woman stared at him. “Err, I mean because you’re not gonna go out with him.” You just giggled a little at the way he was digging an even deeper hole for himself. “Because he’s a bad guy.” He added, once again getting a glare from Trudy. “You know what I mean.” He finished, defeated, not looking in your eyes.

“Well, uh,” you started, trying to keep yourself from laughing too hard, “anyways, I can only thank you both. You guys got me out of something that could be really unpleasant, to say the least.” You told them, a bit more serious this time.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Just glad we could help.” Detective Halstead said, smiling kindly at you.

“Yeah. This time, I actually agree with you, Halstead.” The sergeant half-joked.

“Aw, that’s very kind, but, really, thank you!” You restated your gratitude, then asking: “I should probably get going now, right? Stop wasting your time?”

“It’s not like we were doing much before you got here-” Trudy began saying, but was interrupted by the detective, who quickly told you:

“Yeah, you should go. You know, cause a police District…” You knew he was right, but those two seemed like really nice people, especially after having helped you dodge a bullet, so to speak, and you’d hoped that you were finally making some friends in the Windy-City. “Anyways, um, lemme walk you out.” He offered you while motioning to the door. At that, you and the sergeant shared a look that told you she also found it weird that the detective would wanna walk with you through such a minimal distance.

“Uh, um, o- okay.” As you and Halstead walked towards the exit, you couldn’t help but notice what nice features he had. Like, your mind just kept going back to what a good-looking man he was.

“So…” He trailed off.

“So…” You answered, not really sure about what to say.

“You know, um, it’s gotta be a hell of a bummer for you. Being here in Chicago without knowing many people. This city… It’s all about finding your community.” He told you in a sympathetic tone.

“Hum…” You breathed out as you thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, well, I guess that I can only hope I’ll have better luck at making acquaintances the next time I go out to explore it.”

“Right.” The detective agreed. “Uh, listen, I know that this may sound a little too forward, but, maybe, I could show you some of my favorite places, someday? I mean, only if you’re interested! Because I don’t want you to feel like-”

“Actually, I’d very much like that! If it isn’t going to be any trouble for you…” You cut him off excitedly.

“No! No trouble at all!” He quickly assured you. “Um, thi- this is my card.” He said, lifting up a small business card for you to see. “I’m gonna write my personal number on the back of it. Call, or text me when you have some time to go out. Or if you just want someone to talk…” The handsome man added with a smile. God, what a smile.

“Okay, um, thanks, dete-”

“No, please! Call me Jay.”

“Alright,” you acknowledged, a little nervous this time, “then, thank you, Jay. Just, be advised, I can be very talkative sometimes, which means you might regret giving me this.” You warned him with a sly smile while waving the card in front of his face.

“Huh.” Jay pretended to consider it for a moment. “Is it too weird if I say I have a feeling that I won’t regret it?” He then asked you with a cute shy smile.

“Well, it sure isn’t weirder than me saying that I really hope you don’t regret it.” You confessed to him with a wink.

“Hey, are you two gonna take that flirting elsewhere on your own, or do you need me to get you a room?” You heard Sergeant Platt call out, blushing immediately.

“I’m so sorry about that!” Jay told you, looking a little flushed himself. “You should probably go now.” He added with an apologetic smile.

“Yeah, I think you’re right..” You agreed, but, as you were turning around to leave, he grabbed your wrist lightly, saying:

“Just… Don’t forget to call.” Hearing that, you snickered a little.

“I have a feeling that I won’t.” You told him, almost repeating his previous words, which got some chuckles out of him.

Now you understood the nickname.

[hisunya]

floch x his future s/o “my precious human.” an au, inspired by my headcanon & @bakachanx3 ‘s and @itwasreloading idea!

disclaimer; the au is written from the pov of they/them pronouns user. if yours are different, just think of yours while reading!

Floch wasn’t the type to be interested in anyone, especially during the mission. He was too focused on his own to care about others. This time was different. When he saw a person falling from the tree, he couldn’t care but run with his ODM gear. Floch wasn’t really thinking about the reason their equipment broke, but he knew that leaving it to themself is just a selfish move. So Floch left his formation, trying best to catch them. He fastly used his ODM gear, opening arms toward the person. They simply accepted his gesture, binding their arms on his neck.

They were almost home, it was a good thing. Floch tried to put her down on the ground slowly, to not cause any harm. He never actually saw them before, or maybe they just never catched his eyes. They were looking pretty, even he noticed that.

“Thank you… I mean, really thank you.” they said, after a few seconds of silence. Floch didn’t actually think of getting a credit for his action.

“Well, no hard feelings.” Floch answered, taking them from him. He just started to fix his ODM gear, ready to get back to formation.

Surprisingly, the person he just saved started to walk next to him, smiling brightly and thankfully. It was such a surprise, but Floch tried his best to not show his happiness toward it. He wasn’t the type of person to get easily excited outside, but inside of him he just got really happy. At first he was even ready to start a conversation, but finally decided to keep himself shut.

“Is there any way I could reward you your help?” they asked, breaking the minutes of silence. They were already high with ODM gear, but Floch heard them really good.

“I didn’t do anything to be rewarded.” he answered, keeping his face away from them.

“Still, you did great!” they shouted, but Floch left them behind.

For real he got really happy and felt appreciated. But he was the type to avoid someone praising him. Floch didn’t know why, he just felt embarrassed, so he left them behind. Those words were repeating in his head anyway. After they got back, it was dinner time. Or in other words, the worst time of Floch’s day. He was always sitting alone, and he never had a regular place to sit. Everyone had their group of friends, but he had none. That wasn’t messing him that much, but when he had a moment to think about his life, it was making him sad.

He entered as one of the last people around, stressfully looking for a free table to eat on. He found one, so he just sat with his dinner. Floch was thinking about the situation he just had before, glancing to see that person around. But he didn’t see them anywhere, he got pretty nervous. Not like he cared that much, but if they die anyway, him losing his time to save them was a pointless waste. Floch didn’t have a thing to think of anyway. Everyone was talking with someone, conversating about the mission they just had. But Floch didn’t have a soul to talk with, which was generally pretty sad.

Again, surprisingly, he felt someone sitting next to him, which made him realise who it was pretty fast. It was the person he saved before, smiling the same way, just sitting right next to him. Though, it was the first time someone ever sat with him at dinner, like intentionally.

“I noticed you’re sitting here alone. You didn’t deserve it, though.” they said, slowly blowing on their hot food.

“How can you know what I deserved? I mean, I just saved you. Probably anyone would do the same.” Floch answered, trying to hide his joy, he received within those words.

“I just know you are a good person. And sitting alone like a fool? Definitely not deserved.” they explained themself.

“Well, having no friend is a benefit sometimes. You probably have your group to sit with, why are you wasting your time with me?” Floch asked, trying to look carefree.

“Because you’re the one that saved me. My name is Y/N. What’s your?” they made a move first, trying to make friends with Floch.

Afterall it wasn’t that hard to gain some trust from him. Floch got pretty excited, just thinking about gaining a friend made him happy. But after a minute, he realised it may be just temporary. Maybe they just wanted to sit with him to reward his help? Tomorrow won’t be that happy. Y/N won’t be that devoted to him.

“Floch. Floch Forster.” he answered with a visible smirk on his face. They smiled back, but it was it for their conversation today.

Floch slowly opened the doors to the dining hall sleepily, getting everyone to know he didn’t sleep well last night. He did get some sleep, but it wasn’t enough to be energized for the day. Floch obviously spent some time wondering about Y/N he met yesterday. Actually they were on his mind for a long time, which made him sleep less. He knew that today he isn’t going to sit with them. It was just one time thing, of course he knew. But for some reason he was still kind of hyped by this situation. Like, he was thinking maybe they will sit with him? But at the same time he was almost sure he was expecting too much. Today he had to sit with some freshman soldiers, which were transported here a couple days ago. Even they had their group of friends. Floch had none, which made him sit next to them. He didn’t say anything, just started eating like he used to do every time sitting with unknowns. They were surprised at first, but then they decided to ignore Floch. Well, he wasn’t interested in making friends with them anyway, so the way the event turned was satisfying.

Then, he felt a warm heat on his shoulders, which made him fastly turn around. He saw them. The person he saved, looking at him with a smile on his face. He was really surprised, and also kind of amazed, but maybe not in the right way, because physical touch wasn’t something he experienced much.The warmth of their hands made him probably red on his face, because it was so unexpected. They sat next to him, placing their dinner on the table.

“Can I stay?” they asked, with a smirk on their face. “Are those your friends? I thought you’re sitting alone, that’s why I got here.” they added, looking at him.

“No, I sat on the first plate I noticed free. You really aren't going back to your friends?” Floch questioned, looking at them.

“You are my friend, aren’t you?” they smiled, leaving Floch with noticeable blush on his face. He didn’t really expect that answer. But it obviously wasn’t making him mad, or whatever. Forster was happy, because he finally gained a friend.

“I mean, if you think so. I’m not really a friendly type of person.” he tried to hide his excitement. Floch was like this always. He didn’t like it when people felt satisfaction, because of him. So he tries to act careless, which is not always working out.

“I think there is no problem with this. I mean everyone deserves a friend, they can always rely on. And you deserve it really much. I see a big problem with you sitting here alone.” they said, with a haughty voice. It sounded like something very important and serious.

“You can chill with no worries, I’m doing fine.” Floch cutted it off, maybe from some kind of excitement he got, when they were complimenting him that much. He wasn't a big attention seeker.

Or maybe he was, but it was deep inside him. Floch was actually scared to show how much attention he is interested in getting. He thought that showing this side of him will discourage people from him. Everyone that cared at least a bit took a big part of Floch’s heart. He was thankful to all people that even sometimes, showed some interest.

“I have a gift for you, or maybe just a return to your help yesterday.” they changed the topic, with a smirk on their face. Floch got really, really surprised. He absolutely didn’t expect anything, not even a thanks.

“Thank you, I mean… I didn’t save you to receive any gift or anything. I just think it’s a common thing to do. I saw you in trouble, so I had to help you get out of it.” he smiled, finishing his food. He should probably leave now, but he stayed. Stayed to talk with Y/N.

“Not everyone is so kind-hearted like you. Some people wouldn’t care to catch me, but you did. You deserve a solid thank you.” they explained themself, smiling. They were still eating their food, not like Floch who was already finished.

“It's impossible to call me a kind hearted person. I’ll probably do bad things in future, in particular to save people I love.” he said, making the situation seem more serious. Y/N got pretty interested in his words, but decided to not scrumb the topic. Probably it’s something deeper, so their question may trigger him.

“Well, we’re in scouts afterall. Each of us did bad things, but it does not ease you to be a good person. You are a good person to people you like. I can’t call you a bad person after things you did to me.” their explanations did well to impress Floch. He immediately started to discuss this topic in his head. Y/N seemed to be very intelligent and also not really straightforward. Talking to them made him feel really well.

“You have a point, but for me overall I’m not a good person. But thank you, anyway. You are such a good person, I mean… to me. Precious human, I’d say.” he confessed, leaning his head down due to embarrassment.

It was the first time he ever complimented someone like that. Those words were really big to him, and meant so much. Floch ever wouldn’t call someone like this, but it was an immediate thought. He just realised it is the right person to compliment deep from his heart. Not lie, be manipulative or whatever. Just be a good person. As they said.

Floch was already half-asleep, exactly the moment when he heard loud knocking on his doors. He was really surprised, but also annoyed at first. Who was interrupting his time, when he is supposed to rest? He somehow managed to put himself up again, only with his boxers, also. Floch wasn't aware of the way, the knocking person was Y/N. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was a big plate, holded by Y/N. It was his favourite meal… Though, he couldn’t eat it for years. That’s because he left his mother's side to join the Survey Corps.

“Don’t ask me how I know, but isn’t it your favourite food?” they asked with a smirk on their face. Floch couldn’t help but just stand here with a confused face.

“How did you… Thank you.” he replied, without useless words. He was really happy but also surprised. Y/N was so dearly to him right now.

“That is an official thanks for your help that day. I finally did something to return your great action.” they explained themself, smiling.

“That was a while ago. Why are you still concerned?” Floch asked, opening the doors further, to make Y/N enter.

They sat down on the floor, because the table wasn’t big enough. But they didn’t mind. Y/N was slowly imposing the food. Floch was just looking, trying to hide his happiness.

“But for me it was a big thing. And I know you aren’t going to approve it anyway. You are just the type to keep yourself away from the merit.” it was surprisingly correct. Floch in fact was exactly like they explained.

“You are my precious human, so I will worry forever.” they said like it’s nothing smiling.

And that was the answer he wanted to hear.

[fiddlepickdouglas]

To The Wick - Bobby’s Birthday

Disclaimer: I’m not usually a fic writer, I tend to stick to original stuff, but I just felt like I had to write this for Bobby today. I definitely wrote this in one go and did no proofreading, so I’m very sorry for that.

Summary: 2.3k wd. Bobby celebrates with Rose and Ray while still dealing with survivors guilt. Lots of fire imagery and comparisons.

WARNINGS: deals with death, symptoms similar to anxiety or PTSD, funeral mentions, survivor’s guilt

Staring at the flame, he fought every impulse to snuff it out with his fingers. For a moment, he contemplated on its gentle flickering, not unlike himself at this time. Every moment of its existence a fight against very strong currents, against all but one element surrounding it. All it knew was heat and the need to grow outward, but not being able to without the permission of exterior forces.

The words to the Beatles’ birthday song drummed on his ears, but his mind was in the back of the cavern where the music could only echo at a distance. Shaking his head and pulling his mind out of the depths of the cave, Bobby let a small smile loose for Rose and Ray and blew out the candle on the cupcake before him.

His friends cheered and they all bit into their own homemade cupcakes. Rose had been perfecting her recipe, and so far these were the best.

“You’re going to open a bakery,” Bobby told her through a mouthful. “And I’m going to be your most faithful customer.”

“But I get to do all the taste-testing, right amor?” Ray teased, earning a hand messing up his hair from Rose.

“Mi abuela didn’t pass this down and I didn’t tweak it so you could eat it for free all the time,” she said in a sassy tone, kissing his cheek.

Ray raised his eyebrows. “Noted,” he replied with a smirk.

Bobby finished his cupcake, entertained by the two lovebirds.

“So,” Rose started saying. “Now it’s time to open gifts!” She leaned away from her seat and grabbed an object from the counter a few feet away, then handed it to Bobby.

Tearing apart the purple wrapping and blue ribbon, he looked down at the small stack of CDs. Meditation Sunrise, The 7th Chakra, and Celtic Wind sat in his hands like rectangular dumbbells, each weighing heavier on his heart than he cared to admit. Suddenly, Ray was draping something over his head, and as he looked down he found himself wearing a necklace of prayer beads.

“You guys!” he chuckled, trying to sound genuine. It was his birthday, he was supposed to enjoy all of this. The gifts were actually great, too. “Thanks, this is awesome. You’ll both have to join me in a session, you know.”

“We were thinking we could do it with you today, if you wanted to,” Rose told him.

Bobby sat back in surprise.

“O-okay,” he stammered. He caught the look in her eyes that was hoping this wasn’t too much, to which he gave her a small smile of assurance. It was impossible to blame them for anything he felt today, especially when she and Ray were putting in so much effort to make it full of the joy and happiness it was meant for. It didn’t mean he hadn’t subconsciously stuck his hand in his pocket to where he kept a lighter. Just to feel that it was there, of course.

“Is it okay if we do it later tonight?” he asked. “I just have a quick meeting with my producer and a couple other things afterward to do. And I can pick up some incense while I’m out.”

“Great plan!” Ray exclaimed. He didn’t elaborate, but Bobby could guess that all the eye contact with Rose meant something he needed no part in. He got up from the table and grabbed another cupcake for the road.

“Say we meet back at, like, eight or nine?” he asked, grabbing his leather jacket and keys.

Rose looked up from being halfway embraced with Ray, barely paying attention. “Sounds perfect!”

********

“So, after talking with Jedd we decided we wanna cut out the second repeat of the chorus in Long Weekend. It makes it easier to put into radio time.”

Bobby stared at Callum, his producer, in disbelief.

“But we can just do a radio edit, then, why cut it off the album track?”

Callum blinked condescendingly.

“You think you’re just going to get radio edits out like that before you have an album out, kid?”

“Have you listened to it?” Bobby challenged. “That album is gonna shoot through the charts and I know you know that.”

“Tch,” Callum acted like he’d been shot by a Nerf gun. “That’s a bold statement from a guy who didn’t write these songs.”

A fireball seemed to form inside his chest, and Bobby wished he could open his mouth and shoot it toward the man. He clenched his teeth.

“You signed the deal, you recorded these songs, and you are getting this opportunity from us. We - need I say this - are professionals. Trust me, I’ve dealt with music written by dead people before. You’ll thank me in a few years.”

He was trembling to keep the fireball from burning down the entire room, and clenched his fists. Focusing on a stupid paisley design on the carpet, he avoided eye contact with Callum. There was no way he was letting Luke’s songs go any different than what they had played together for so many years. He had read the contract well enough, hadn’t he? It was hard enough not crediting the rest of them, but it was honor Luke with letting his music connect to people or honor Luke by letting him keep his songs to the few who heard them from the source. Not to mention Alex and Reggie being equal parts in that equation.

“Fine,” he forced out. “Make the cut. See how it does. I’ll bet you that when I make a remaster in twenty years with greater freedoms because I’m a respected artist, fans will ask why you cut it to begin with. I’ve got better people to see than you right now.”

He only saw Callum shaking his head out of the corner of his eye as he pushed through the door of the studio, flipping the bird behind him. It would’ve been nice to simply say over my dead body, but he was already bulldozing over his three best friends and it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair that he could walk along the street, get into his car, and drive off in a huff. Not fair that he could go to the abandoned grocery store parking lot and yell until his lungs were sore. It was absolutely inadequate that he remained on this earth, soul inside his body, light in his eyes, breath and blood and bones and all. He screamed in that parking lot until he was dizzy.

Bobby laid in his seat, exhausted, until twilight approached, and then started the engine again. The route was so well-known now that he knew exactly when the lights turned so he never had to make a stop. He came to the right stop and parked on the shoulder, looking wistfully out the window.

So far, he hadn’t managed to set foot on the grounds again after the funerals had passed. Still, he came and made sure his line of sight at the closest angle to get a proper look at them. They were all in a row, even though only two stood vertically. Reggie’s parents had cremated him and only gotten a stone plaque that acted as a placeholder while they kept his urn with them at home. It was nice of them to at least contribute to keep the three together.

Today still wasn’t the day he was going to venture closer to them. Bobby wasn’t going to handle it well after the conversation he’d just left. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket and flicked it off and on. It hadn’t really been a habit he had before, but there was something weirdly comforting about it. For something that couldn’t think, it really understood him. He didn’t want to use it on anything, he just wanted to watch it exist before disappearing. The fire was them. But he could control it.

Taking in a deep breath, he went to get some incense.

********

Mats were spread in the backyard with tiki torches and a camping lantern in the center, more paper lanterns hanging from the tree above. Bobby had gotten a nice incense burner a few weeks back and was excited to put it on display. Ray was in his swim shorts, already seated with his legs crossed and repeatedly going “oommmm” and breaking it with giggles when Rose swatted at him playfully.

“We’re not doing that kind, tontoroso,” she teased.

“Pero me quiero - ah!” Ray cried as she accidentally thumped him with the boombox she’d been carrying out.

“Oh, lo siento mi amor, me desculpes!” she cried, setting it down to address the minor bump now forming on his head.

Bobby sat patiently as they babbled for a moment ensuring that Ray wasn’t harmed too much, smirking a little. He didn’t really mind being the third wheel on his own birthday - it helped take away from some of the guilt.

“Okay!” Rose said finally, standing and adjusting the bottom of her tank top. “I think we should try the Meditation Sunrise, so it will guide us through every motion and we don’t have to think.”

“Agreed,” Bobby nodded, with Ray doing the same. “The less thinking the better.”

Rose pressed play on the first track as all three of them sat in their assumed meditative positions with their eyes shut. Calm, synthesized music floated out of the speakers of the boombox, with light chimes twinkling here and there.

“Welcome to Meditation Sunrise. This first exercise is to help you free yourself from resentments and embrace forgiveness. Listen to my words. Focus on my voice and soon you will be free of anything that stirs up anger. This can be anger toward another person, anger toward a higher being, or even anger toward yourself…”

Bobby felt his heartbeat increasing and strained to keep his eyes closed. He tried to sit up straighter so that he could breathe in even deeper. He could hear Ray and Rose exhaling, sounding so calm and relaxed, and let out his own breath hoping it came out the same way.

“Forgive faults. Resentment comes from Latin, meaning ‘to feel again’. We all have these feelings, and they all visit us from time to time. Sometimes we hold onto things in the past that have caused harm. These things were painful. Letting these feelings continually visit us repeats that pain. In this exercise we are here to let it go…”

Taking a careful peek through his eyelashes, Bobby checked to see what Rose and Ray looked like. They sat close together, holding hands with the remaining ones shaped in circles. Rose had her head tilted back, so free and open to the sky, so light from the weight that wasn’t sitting on her chest. The flames from the tiki torches flickered and Bobby squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn’t focus on them instead.

“Now we are going to envision that we have a shovel in our hands. We’re going to dig. Get that shovel deep into the rich soil and lift it up. Set the soil to the side. Smell the fresh, upturned earth. If you want to, you can kneel down and take some into your hands. Let the soft, rich earth be cool to the touch. Let it calm you.

“Imagine you are digging in a garden and planting a seed. It’s a seed of happiness. It’s small right now, but will grow as we continue through our meditation. We just need to go a little deeper into the ground…”

Bobby’s mind was transported back to the cemetery he’d visited earlier. It travelled all the way to the funerals - open ground, lowering cheap wooden boxes. His hand filled with a small amount of dirt.

“Stop,” he muttered, eyes remaining closed. Rose and Ray were still entranced.

“Stop, stop, turn it off, I can’t -” He felt his breathing get uneven, and Rose was already in front of him, cradling his face and wiping away tears that he didn’t realize had escaped. He jerked away from her touch. Ray rushed to stop the playback on the CD.

All he felt was heat rising everywhere. In his veins, all over his skin, the fireball growing like a small sun in his chest, and apparently tears could be hot, too. There was too much rage building up inside. Bobby let out a frustrated cry and kicked over the incense burner, the camping lantern doing down with it. Turning, he almost hit a paper lantern and he whacked it off the tree as he headed back inside the house.

Rose caught up to him and frantically tried to block his path.

“Bobby, I sincerely apologize, I did not know it was going to be like that,” she placated. He paused as she stood before him, pleading. “If you need me to, I can get you a different present, I just wanted to do this because you had seemed interested and thought we would have a fun night together - Bobby, I am so sorry!”

Looking back at her, he sighed heavily and placed a hand on her shoulder.

“You don’t need to get me anything else,” he told her solemnly.

Ray had joined them and put an arm around each of them. A twinge of reminder came to Bobby as he recalled Luke doing the same thing for him. But coming from Ray, it still had the warmth and love connected to it that he needed. He looked between the two of them.

“That was a bust,” he said. They all chuckled a little, albeit with heavy hearts. “But having you guys still made it a good birthday.”

His friends both muttered an “aw” and they came together in a group hug. Bobby sighed as they both squeezed him so tightly before breaking away.

“So what do we wanna do, then?” he asked.

“We could watch Wayne’s World,” Ray suggested.

“Baby,” Rose objected, giving him a look.

“What?” he lifted his hands defensively. “I could make a dip, we could grab some tortilla chips, you know I love dips.”

“But Bob -”

“No, I like that idea,” Bobby interrupted. “Ray makes some good dip, I’ll give him that. I think we can hold off on the meditation for now. Wayne’s World it is.”

[blvejeanbaby]

The Farmhouse (m)

Pairing: Wooyoung x reader, San x reader, Yeosang x reader + multiple Ateez members x OC characters + boy x boy action Word count: 14.9k Warning: sex (though mostly foreplay), threesome, mentions of sex, alcohol use, some Ateez members are gay

disclaimer: I am not trying to assume anyone’s sexuality with this story, that was not what this was meant for! This is all a work of fiction and what I write in this story doesn’t necessarily reflect my thoughts in real life.

A/N: I had originally planned for this story to end up very, very differently but I like to write wherever my mind goes. That’s why I had originally planned to split this up into four parts, with a different ending in my mind. You’ll find out part of what that different ending was in the extra scene at the end n.n

Day 1 On a trip, the last mile is always the longest - it’s not so much the truth as the truth of a feeling. Yunho made sure the last mile wouldn’t come for a while. Even though he had proclaimed himself to be an excellent driver, perfectly capable of following up instructions while driving safely, he hadn’t been too successful in making that statement come true. With Jongho screaming different directions at him, increasingly getting more frustrated with Yunho’s inability to follow these, Yechan from the back attempting to give directions without really knowing where all of you were, you were more so focused on what was outside of the car. Over the course of your journey to the countryside, the landscape had gradually changed; from the tall buildings of the busy city, you got closer and closer to the national park, where you would be staying nearby.                “This must be it!” Daemi said excitedly. She had been quiet while the others had been arguing, but when you looked out of the front window, you noticed she was right. The building, a large two-storey farmhouse, concealing an even bigger backyard, with a vineyard next to it, matched the AirBnB advertisement perfectly.                “Oh, that’s Seonghwa’s car,” Yunho said, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. He steered the car onto the driveway and parked it right next to Seonghwa’s.                When you got out of the car, you were instantly greeted by a voice from higher up: “Hey, look up!” You shielded your eyes from the sun as you looked up to find a half-naked Wooyoung hanging out of an open window. “You’re the last ones to arrive.”                “It’s because Yunho can’t drive,” Jongho said, at the same time Daemi said: “It’s because Jongho doesn’t know how to read a map.”                “Well, you’d better come up and get yourselves a room,” Wooyoung said. “The others have already started drinking and none of the groceries have been done yet.”                To that, everyone nearly fell over each other to collect their bags from the trunk of the car. The house had enough rooms to accommodate 16 people, but because of some being less comfortable sleeping in rooms with certain others, everyone had more or less divided up the rooms beforehand, and mattresses were dragged around to make sure everyone had a bed to sleep in at night. Or during the day, considering the objective of this trip was not to have a wholesome trip to escape from your usual busy lives in the city. Of course it was that too, but there was also the idea that you would just get away to party and get drunk, the way you couldn’t so easily in the city, where there was always some authority to monitor you.                 You shared a room with Daemi and Yechan, your best girl friends. To accommodate Yechan, you got an extra mattress from the room opposite yours, which was one with an in-room shower. “…so that’s our bathroom,” Yechan concluded as she flopped down onto her unmade mattress and closed her eyes. “I’m going to take a nap.”                “A nap? We have to make our beds first. And the groceries still need to be done,” Daemi said.                “Why didn’t anybody else go while we were gone?” you sighed.                “Well, if Wooyoung’s right and they already started drinking…” Daemi shrugged. “Maybe we should do the groceries. Before everyone gets too drunk.”                When you got downstairs, you saw that Daemi had been right; a lot of people were already quite drunk. Seonghwa was one of them, pressing his car keys into your hands, despite you not having a drivers’ license. “Take them,” he said. “Take them. Take more beer with you too. The good ones.”                “Hwa, I don’t drink beer-“ you started, but Seonghwa kept rambling about the beer you needed to get.                “I’ll come with you,” San said, jumping up from his seat next to Alice and pushing Seonghwa into it. “I know which brand of beer he likes.” He smiled at you and you smiled back thankfully. You were glad to find that it wasn’t just going to be you and San doing the groceries – as he had been drinking and you didn’t have your license, there was no one who could even legally drive the car off the property if you had wanted to. You were glad to find it wasn’t just going to be the two of you. That would’ve probably made for some awkward moments between you. You had been alone with just San before, and it had been normal, until it wasn’t anymore. Something snuck into your relationship that could only be described as attraction. Perhaps it was just plain physical attraction, as your heart always beat slightly quicker when you saw him, or perhaps it ran deeper, but what you did know was that your friendship was good and you didn’t want to ruin it with a crush.                The dynamic in the friend group had always been amazing. The traditional idea about boys and girls not being able to be friends without romantic feelings involved, was completely destroyed by you guys’ friendships. Only Seonghwa and Sooyoung were officially dating, following a set-up Hongjoong had cooked up by himself. Sooyoung had never been part of the friend group before, and the same went for Soojin, her best friend. The friend group dynamics had actually improved upon Sooyoung and Soojin’s introductions to the group nearly two years ago.                It was for that reason you didn’t feel uncomfortable while in the car with only boys: Yunho drove again, Jongho navigating once more. You were squished in between Hongjoong and San in the backseat of Yunho’s car, which was roomier than Seonghwa’s, with the latter’s car keys pressing into your leg through your jeans. While Jongho and Yunho already started arguing about which way to go and which supermarket to choose, you turned to Hongjoong as he talked about the plans for the next couple of days: “…sauna, so maybe we can hop in there tonight. And tomorrow Anna and I want to do a barbecue by the lakeside. It’s not that far a drive but if we want to take beer there, we can walk too.”                “Of course we’ll want to take beer,” San said. “Maybe even wine and stuff. Hey, Y/N, we have your favourite drink too. It’s cheaper in cities than in the countryside, we figured out.”                “My favourite drink?” you turned to him.                “That soju-yogurt cocktail you like so much. Wooyoung and Yeosang made it for you.”                You felt your heart swell at San remembering you liking soju-yogurt cocktails. It had been a while since you told him about loving it the first time you tried it and it becoming your signature drink when going out. You weren’t big on alcohol the way other people could be, but sometimes you found yourself casually wanting to make your own soju-yogurt cocktail at home. “I hope there’s still left when we get back.”                Once at the grocery store – which was tucked away behind a scary-looking church that, according to Yunho’s limited amount of information about the surrounding area, once belonged to a cult – Hongjoong was in charge of listing off the grocery list and checking the boxes corresponding with what the others put into the cart. You were staying close to San’s side, as you always did when he was around. Yes, you found him physically attractive, which made you want to look at him all the time, but there was also something absolutely magnetic about his personality that made you want to be talking to him always. And it seemed like San was really into your conversation as you wandered off from Hongjoong and Jongho to find a certain brand of pasta sauce. Despite the simplicity of the topics you were talking about, which ranged from Yunho not being able to drive and Yechan karate chopping you in the head when she saw a mosquito flying past that she wanted to kill, you felt a little nervous around San. Once you had told Daemi about it, hoping she would come with valuable advice, but instead she had laughed at you and just declared you were crushing on San, hard. And perhaps she was right.                When you got back to the farmhouse, needless to say, the soju-yogurt cocktail was gone. Feeling robbed of the one thing you were looking forward to about returning, you opted to drink water instead. You’d start drinking alcohol after dinner, you told yourself, so you wouldn’t get sick. Finally, when it was clear there were little to no sober people you could strike up conversation with, you excused yourself to go upstairs and shower.                The summer heat made everything hot and sticky, including your body. You grabbed a towel and some clean clothes as well as your toiletry bag before going to the single room with the shower. The room was small and simple, with a window overlooking the backyard and the mountains in the distance. You cracked the window open, quickly glancing down to see the back patio, only accessible through the kitchen. As you put on the shower, you enjoyed the smell of freshly cut grass and summer drafting in through the window, as well as the sound of the water cascading on your body mixing with the sounds of a chirping bird outside and the sounds of cows in the distance. Until your attention was caught by a sudden yelp: “Wooyoung!”                Your eyes shot wide open when you recognized that voice. Rose. Along with Alice and Anna, they were in your friend group because Daemi liked them a lot. Your personality didn’t match well with Rose and although you didn’t hate each other or anything, you weren’t very fond of Rose and you were sure the sentiment was shared by her. As far as you knew, Wooyoung, however, thought she was amazing.                “Don’t tell me you don’t like it,” Wooyoung’s voice sounded, loud, as if he was right there in the room with you. It immediately gave you goose bumps.                “Hm, I like it,” Rose’s voice came again. You could just about imagine her shaking her blonde hair out of her face, over her shoulder… You had always thought she looked closest to an angel as was humanly possible. Perhaps your dislike of her had something to do with how you were jealous of her always getting the guys she wanted, how she managed to get every single boy to ever lay eyes on her to fall in love with her and how she could effortlessly keep and make friends… “You like this?”                “Hm, Rose…” That was a groan. A groan from Wooyoung. You had never heard something so utterly sexual. You shivered. Saying you were feeling increasingly uncomfortable was nearly an understatement. They continued to make sounds that made you want to throw up in your mouth. Had they been drinking this much already? Or were they just that into each other that it didn’t bother them it was broad daylight outside? Did they not hear your shower running too? Or were they not aware how perfectly audible they were? You felt like you weren’t supposed to be naked while you could hear them so clearly; it felt weird.                You quickly turned off the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. Even though you had taken your clothes and toiletry bag into the single room, you didn’t want to hear a single sound anymore, so you made your way back to your room where you took your time getting ready, trying to shake off the nasty feeling Wooyoung and Rose’s acts had left behind.                While putting on clothes and jewellery and smearing light makeup on your face, you felt the urge to dress the best you could, despite the fact you were just going to be cooking and eating and drinking with your group of best friends. There was something inside of you screaming that you wanted to prove to everyone that you, too, were worthy of getting fingered and giving handjobs on the patio as well – there was no other explanation for what they had been doing and no need to lie to yourself about it. More importantly, you felt the need to prove to specifically Wooyoung you could handle whatever he would give you on that patio. More so than Rose. But that was ridiculous. You wouldn’t really want Wooyoung to touch you like that.                As you finished the perfect winged eyeliner, you decided that was enough makeup. You made your way downstairs, collecting Anna, Daemi and Hongjoong for dinner. “Let’s get going,” you said.                “Seems like you already got going,” Daemi chuckled, following you closely into the kitchen. “Who is that outfit for?”                “For you, of course.” You sent her a wink.                “San is one lucky boy,” Daemi said quietly, so no one else could hear, before getting to work on cutting up onions. If only she knew, you thought to yourself, taking it upon yourself to cut up the potatoes.                It took a surprisingly long time to cook for 16 people, despite the extra hands pitching in to slice up vegetables and do the washing up. You realized how much you’d been underappreciating the restaurant people who churn out dishes at an insane speed, compared to how you’re cooking a relatively simple dish with little ingredients while needing all the help you can get.                “Ah,” you hear a voice, “can I taste?” Before getting confirmation, the spoon is already in the pasta sauce and before you can scold him, the spoon is already in his mouth. “Hm, needs a little more spice, I think.”                “Yeah? Well, you think wrong.”                “What? You haven’t even tasted yet,” Wooyoung said, putting the spoon back on the counter. There’s a smirk on his face that your hands are itching to wipe off with a slap, and a blush on his cheeks that you know is not the effect of the hot weather.                “The recipe doesn’t call for extra spices, thank you very much.”                “What’s got you all upset?”                “I’m not upset,” you bite back, proving the opposite.                “Ah, it must be the period,” Wooyoung said, with an air of superiority.                “Fuck you, Wooyoung.” You threw your own wooden spoon down into the pasta mixture, splattering both yourself and Wooyoung with the red sauce, before storming out onto the patio – only to find Rose standing, a gleeful smile on her face and a cigarette between her lips.                She looked up instantly. “You look a little upset.” Her smile faded away as she stuck out her hand to you. “Need a drag?”                You didn’t even bother responding, instead dealing with the embarrassment of having to go back through the kitchen to escape. When dinner is served, you can’t even muster up the faintest of smiles or feign happiness. At least what got you so upset wasn’t your period. And quite frankly, you were even angrier that Wooyoung thought it was okay to make such a joke, whilst normally being so attuned to girls’ feelings, especially yours.                You hated the pasta, but you ate it anyway. You glanced over to where Wooyoung was seated, chatting excitedly to Seonghwa and Mingi, the left-overs of the splattered sauce staining his white shirt. You didn’t even feel remotely guilty.                You were glad when dinner was finished, so you could commit yourself to working on another batch of soju-yogurt cocktail, this time without Wooyoung, since he was too busy in the sauna. Probably flirting with Rose, you thought to yourself as you grumpily got to work on the ingredients. San and Yeosang were right there with you; Yeosang because he knew how to make it and San because he evidently wanted to cheer you up. He kept saying cheesy jokes and poking your cheeks and then his own ‘to see if he could give you his dimples’. Every time you gave him an annoyed look, his smile made your heart flutter and your mouth shut.                As the night progressed, you were aware you were drinking a bit too much of the mixture. Maybe a bit too much of any liquor, really, because by the time the clock struck 11 o’clock, you were already very close to quitting alcohol for the night, while Soojin was only on her second drink of the evening.                “I’m going to get some air,” you said to no one in particular, before getting up and stepping outside, sliding the door closed behind you. Away from the stifling heat inside, the cool mountain air managed to cool you down enough to not sway on your feet as you threw your head back to look at the night sky. It was dotted with stars, only visible because you were so far away from cities and their light pollution. You were in the middle of deep contemplations about the universe, when you heard a noise. Oh no, not again, you thought to yourself, your head snapping down to look over the balustrade, down at the swimming pool.                On the edge of it you could see two figures, barely visible in the darkness. But from what little light the porchlight shone on them, you could make out that it’s San – it’s unmistakably him. But who is with him? It takes a little more squinting and a moan before you make yourself rip away from the sight, stomping back into the house. You don’t even tell anyone that you’re heading up to bed.                Only when you’re finally underneath the covers, you allow yourself to think about what you saw. Your long-time crush, Choi San, shoving his tongue down the throat of Kim Alice, someone you had always figured was rather harmless a person to have around. She didn’t speak much in big groups – kind of like you – but when she did, she was funny. She was a joy to be around, seemed to have a life devoid of problems, she was conventionally attractive… With a sigh you turned on your side, closing your eyes, willing yourself to fall asleep. But all you saw with eyes closed was San and Alice, kissing as if their lives depended on it.

Day 2 After you and Anna had put away the dirty plates and cutlery into the dishwasher and turned it on, everyone was about ready to leave for the lake. The morning had been off to a slow start but with the sun beaming down on everyone, scorching hot, they were all suddenly up and running. Their sudden energy was not the reason you left the cars at the house and instead walked through the significantly cooler forest to get to the lake. After all, according to Hongjoong, it’s not a far walk. The reason was solely to be able to drink.                Jongho and Yeosang carried the cool box filled to the brim with drinks and meat, which was undoubtedly the heaviest thing to carry, while Daemi and Alice offered to carry the blankets to sit on. Everyone else was assigned their own towels and clothes to carry. You stayed at the back of the group with Mingi, who was positively hungover from the night before and had to stop every few minutes or so to clutch at his stomach and complain about how nauseous he felt. Needless to say, the two of you arrived only when Seonghwa had already started to set up ‘camp’, as he called it, and the others were already half-undressed and in the water.                Soojin was in the midst of stripping off her sundress, convincing Alice to do the same. Both were trying to get Yunho to abandon his duties of helping Seonghwa lay down the blankets, for him to come swimming with them. Jongho and Yeosang, who had been in the front with Hongjoong, setting the pace and navigating, had already put the cool box down, Jongho in the process of taking off his pants.                “Y/N,” Sooyoung appeared in front of you suddenly. “Do you want to come with us to the village? It’s just a ten minute walk, Hongjoong said, and it’s apparently really pretty. Maybe you can take some photos.” She gestured toward your film camera, a gift from Wooyoung for your last birthday. You had taken it with you to the lake, thinking you could get a lot of use out of it to capture the memories of the trip.                “Sure, seems like fun,” you said. “Who’s coming?” You felt torn as Sooyoung told you it was just going to be you, Seonghwa, Hongjoong and Yeosang. On the one hand you were glad that San and Wooyoung were staying behind, as you weren’t sure you could handle having to deal with them for too long. On the other hand, you were a little torn on leaving them behind with Alice and Rose. You had to remind yourself they were nothing to you but your friends as you shrugged your heavy backpack off and gave Mingi a pat on the head before he threw himself down on the blankets. Even though he was groaning and being apologetic, no one believed he found it really terrible he could not come with.                Hongjoong and Seonghwa were completely attached to Sooyoung, which caused you to stay with Yeosang. He was typically a very observant but quiet person; he noticed a lot but never said a thing about it. Imagine your surprise when he asked: “So, you were not having a great time last night?”                “Was it that obvious?” you groaned.                “Wooyoung told me you cursed at him. You know, he was joking about the period thing.”                “I know. Doesn’t make it okay.”                Yeosang turned semi-serious. “He hates it when you two fight.”                “Has he told you that as well?” You were starting to lose your temper, which you did not want. After all, Yeosang had nothing to say about what Wooyoung was feeling, saying or doing.                “No,” Yeosang said. “I just know. You’re his best friend, even though it might not seem like it sometimes. What were you mad about anyway?”                You gnawed at your lip. The fact was, you weren’t entirely sure what you were particularly mad about. That he was fingering Rose on the patio while everyone could notice? That he was fingering Rose on the patio of all places? That he was fingering Rose to begin with? That it was Rose, of all people? And what reason did you have anyway to care about what Wooyoung was doing romantically or sexually? You were only friends.                But if there was someone you could talk to this about, it would surely be Yeosang, right? Apart from you, he had known Wooyoung the longest. Before it was you and Yechan and Daemi, it had been you and Wooyoung and Yeosang. And even before that, it had been Wooyoung and Yeosang. That was before San had come in and essentially stolen Wooyoung away. It was before a lot of things.                You sighed. “Well, when I was showering last night? Before dinner?” You mentally cringed at what you were about to say: “I heard some noises outside. I’m pretty sure – No, I’m 100 percent confident that it was Wooyoung and Rose going at it. If you know what I mean.”                “I can guess,” Yeosang said. “And that bothered you, why?”                “I never said it bothered me,” you said. Too defensive. “I don’t like Rose,” you admitted, knowing damn well it was not just that. From the look on Yeosang’s face, you could see he was thinking the same thing. And there was something else too... You were grateful and relieved when he left it at that, though. Instead, Hongjoong pointed you to a small café.                Although it might be small, it was not characterless. There were few people inside that afternoon, leaving a lot of different cakes and pies for you and your friends to try out. As you waited for your order, you glanced around the café. It was covered in pink flowers, even the walls were painted pink. You saw what Hongjoong liked about it – it had a certain charm. One that apparently made Sooyoung feel like she had to excessively comment on everything in a squealy voice. You liked her, but her excitement was giving you headaches. Honestly, you were still feeling kind of miserable and sorry for yourself.                Yeosang cheered you up by sharing the remainder of his chocolate-cherry cake with you when you had finished your own, knowing the best remedy for what you were feeling was food. While on your way back to the lakeside, Yeosang kept to your side, purposefully bringing up things you had done together where Wooyoung hadn’t been involved. The happy memories you had shared with Yeosang were plenty enough to make you smile again and by the time you arrived back to camp, you were genuinely in a good mood.                “Y/N!” Yechan exclaimed as she saw you. “Come jump in! The water’s so good.”                “Gotta set up the barbecue,” you said. “Sorry!” All of that was a lie. After all, you didn’t really have to set up the barbecue and there was Hongjoong already getting started on it. In all honesty, you just didn’t feel like joining the happy couples in the water. As soon as Seonghwa and Sooyoung had raced each other to the campsite, they had discarded their clothes and jumped in the water, engaging in a splash war against Jongho and Soojin. Alice was seated on San’s shoulders, battling Rose, who was on Wooyoung’s shoulders. You didn’t want anything to do with them.                Instead you chose a soft spot on the blankets next to Mingi, who was sound asleep, Rose’s straw sunhat shading his eyes from the sun, relentlessly beating down. Yunho and Daemi were on his other side, playing a game of cards that Yeosang immediately joined, claiming it as his favourite game, although he then proceeded to ask what the rules were.                You watched Hongjoong struggle with the barbecue for a while until you decided it was time to help him out of his misery. As he noticed you helping him, his face immediately brightened up. “What did you think? Of the café?”                “It was great, Joongie,” you said, giving him your brightest smile. You actually meant it. “Thanks for taking us.”                “Oh, don’t worry about it,” he said. “I just wanted you to have some fun.”                With a sigh you leaned back to sit. “Is everyone just a mind reader now?”                “No, I just overheard your conversation with Yeo on the way to town. Sorry about that. If you allow me to give you some advice – I think you should just be having fun and not letting something like that bother you. And anyway, I always thought you had a crush on San, not Wooyoung.”                You looked at him, shocked. “What?”                “You heard what I said. Hand me the coals, please.”                You did as he said. “What do you mean I have a crush on San?”                Joong shrugged. “It’s pretty clear from the way you behave around him that you do. Or maybe did?” He winked at you playfully. “I mean, why else would you be angry at Wooyoung for finally approaching Rose? You know he’s been talking about her for years now.”                You didn’t know. Perhaps your friendship with Wooyoung was not as unconditional and carefree and honest as you always thought it had been. “Joongie, you’re not making me feel any better right now,” you said, your mind wandering off to his previous comment about you crushing on San. It was true that you liked him, there was nearly no denying it. But if Hongjoong knew, then did the others as well?                “I don’t know, Y/N. I think you should just let loose and have some fun.”                When the fire beneath the barbecue was finally going and Daemi took your place at it to grill chicken satay, you took her place at the card game. When the first batch of food was served, you woke Mingi to call for the others, still in the water. They were quick to join at the mention of food.                Everyone gathered in a circle, smiling and laughing, but all you could do was stab at your food as you looked around the group, wondering who out of all of them knew of your crush on San, who, by the way, looked absolutely stunning with the water droplets on his naked chest glimmering in the afternoon sunlight, like little diamonds. You hated it.                “Say ‘ah’.” You turned to look at Wooyoung, an apologetic smile on his face.                “Ah?”                “No, like this.” He widened his mouth and stuck out his tongue a little, dragging out the ‘ah’ longer. You rolled your eyes but followed his example, which was followed by Wooyoung putting a piece of meat on your tongue. You chewed on it, watching him as he sat down next to you. “Here. Have some more.”                “My favourite,” you said, grabbing the plate from him. “Is this your version of a white flag?”                “Yes,” Wooyoung said. “I’m sorry about the joke I made. Yeosang might have mentioned you really didn’t like it and I guess it’s a pretty assholey thing to say anyway. I don’t want to fight with you.”                “I guess I have to apologize as well,” you said. “I’m not in the best mood and I’m taking it out on you. Among others.” You glanced over at San before focusing back on Woo. “I don’t want to fight with you either.”                “Good.” Wooyoung stuck out his pinkie finger to you, as if you were kindergartners still. “Promise me that we won’t fight during this trip again.”                “Just this trip?” you joked, curling your own pinkie around his. You’re just about to say something else, when a girl plops down on Wooyoung’s other side. You would recognize that blonde hair anywhere.                “Got you pork belly, like you asked.” Rose handed a new plate to Wooyoung. “Hi, Y/N. Why didn’t you go swimming?”                “I might swim after dinner,” you said, surprised she even talked to you. You were not so surprised to find out this was the only thing she was going to say to you, instead looking at Wooyoung, totally transfixed by him. You sighed, going back to stabbing at your food. At least there was no fighting with your best friend now.                You’re glad when the drinking begins and you have an excuse to chug down liquor. You even go swimming for a bit, hanging around Yechan and Yeosang the most. It’s not long after evening falls that Soojin calls out for everyone to return to the farmhouse. You’re clinging onto your beer bottle on the way back, walking next to Yeosang, your arm linked through his. After all, he managed to majorly cheer you up and perhaps he could perform that same magic trick again.                Back at the farmhouse, Mingi perked up enough from his massive hangover to call everyone to him for a beer pong match. With a little help of Anna, he set up teams of two to compete against each other. “Y/N and Yeosang, you begin! Against Yechan and Daemi.”                As you took your place next to Yeosang, you realized it was obvious either Mingi or Anna had picked up on the tension in the house. You kind of wanted to convince Yeosang to cheat and purposefully lose the game, but when you saw his fanatism at landing the first ball in Daemi’s cup, you didn’t have the heart to tell him you didn’t want to play. He was just so smiley and happy… You convinced yourself that a) you wanted to win this game just as badly as he did and b) that you’re not absolutely shit at beer pong.                The first opponents were luckily nearly as bad as you are at the game. Although the ball takes awfully long to land in the last cup, you and Yeosang still manage to defeat Yechan and Daemi. While the two of you are not up against anyone yet, you vow to yourself to get even more tipsy. It won’t help with aim but you were sure it would help your mood. It’s a fine line between tipsy and drunk and you were walking it with little care in the world.                Your next opponents were Hongjoong and Jongho, who already proclaimed themselves Kings of Beer Pong. Only to be beat by you and Yeosang; turns out Hongjoong just had extreme luck playing against Seonghwa and Sooyoung, for his aim is honestly worse than yours, and Jongho can’t keep up against Yeosang, who deserves to officially be crowned King of Beer Pong.                Yeosang’s so surprisingly good at the game that you’re not surprised when you win the finale round against Wooyoung and San. Overcome with emotions that you can’t properly explain and do not want to face and will probably never address ever again, you reached for Yeosang’s face, cupping it in your hands and pressing your lips against his. You felt a shock of surprise run through his body, but his hands effortlessly found your hips to steady you and kiss back.                Despite the absence of butterflies or fireworks or any of the sorts, you become aware of how unaware you are of the sounds around you two. The only sound that’s coming through is Yeosang’s small moans and the sounds kisses tend to make. It doesn’t help that you’re both using an obscene amount of tongue, but you might be drunk and you don’t care – especially not that anyone or everyone is watching and cheering.                When you pull away, you smile at Yeosang, who looks a little stunned but not unhappy about your actions. “Congratulations, King of Beer Pong,” you tell him.                “Thanks, Queen.” He even has the liberty of squeezing your ass, earning him a yelp that broadens his smile. Take that, Woosan, you think to yourself. “Let’s get you another drink.” With his arm still around you, Yeosang guides you to the kitchen, away from prying eyes, both unaware that Mingi was ready to crown you both winners and offer you a prize. You couldn’t care less about what the prize was.                The kitchen is completely empty except for a collection of trash and dirty plates and glasses. After clearing a space on the countertop, Yeosang picked you up with a surprising amount of strength and sat you down on it, then going to fix you a glass of water. “There you go.”                “Water?” you complain. “Yeo-“                “No, you need to sober up a little,” he spoke in a tone of amusement. “I think you’re an amazing kisser and I really enjoyed that, but I also know that kiss wasn’t meant for me.”                “Oh, are you going to tell me who the kiss was meant for then? Because, last I checked, my lips were on yours and not on anyone else’s. I think that was meant for you, Yeosang.”                “Maybe,” he said, “but then with the intent of hurting someone else. Or whatever you thought you were doing back there. You’re not attracted to me.”                “Says who?” you pull Yeosang closer to you by his shirt collar, capturing him between your legs. He looks profoundly comfortable in between them, but you know what he means when he says: “I do. You do, with your body language.”                You rolled your eyes at him, setting the glass of water down next to you. “I’m not going to endure another talk about how in love I am with San and how everyone can tell.”                “I wasn’t going to say you’re in love with San.”                “Okay, Wooyoung then. Only because I was jealous he fingered Rose on the patio. The patio! That one over there!” You pointed at it for emphasis. “All of those feelings are not yours to comment on, Yeosang. Hongjoong.” You narrowed your eyes at him as he entered the kitchen rather innocently.                “Wh-“ Hongjoong locked eyes with Yeosang and immediately his eyes widened. “I’m out of here right now. Sorry.”                “Drink your water,” Yeosang said, giving you a little pat on the knee before following Hongjoong out of the kitchen. You sighed in frustration, grabbing the glass and bringing it to your lips. It actually tasted pretty nice to be drinking something as pure as water after all of the alcohol you had been consuming. Perhaps Yeosang was right and the kiss hadn’t been meant for him at all, not even a little bit. Perhaps you were just trying to make him jealous. And you weren’t quite sure which him you meant with that.                Perhaps the him that came walking into the kitchen right at that moment, empty bottle of beer in hand. “Oh, have you come to lecture me too?” you said before he could even open his mouth – just one look was enough. “I’m sick of it.”                “Well,” San said, “now that you mention it. Why did you kiss Yeosang?”                “Why wouldn’t I? You have been all over Alice too, haven’t you?”                “You really don’t understand, do you?”                “Understand what?” There was a viciousness to your voice that made San shake his head. “I’m not going to argue with you while you’re still drunk.”                “Yeah? Well-“ But you didn’t get a chance to say anything hurtful to him as he had already left the kitchen. With a sigh you chugged down the water, slid off the countertop and walked to your room. You could faintly hear all the noises in the living room, the partiers, but you were glad you weren’t there with them. This was not the fun trip you had planned for it to be.

Day 3 Even though Anna had planned something to do the day after, everyone was so hungover that no one really felt like going anywhere. You woke up first, quietly stepping over a snoring Yechan and trying not to wake a sleep-talking Daemi as you went to the single room across the floor to have a shower. This time without opening the window, even though you knew it was highly unlikely you would hear Wooyoung and Rose again. You went downstairs, made yourself breakfast, and by the time you had finished, the first people started coming down. The first was Jongho, followed by Soojin and Anna. Soon thereafter, Yunho and Daemi appeared as well, looking different states of dishevelled. There was still dried up spit in the corner of Yunho’s mouth. “Who’s up for a walk?” he excitedly said.                No one felt like going, but you jumped up at the opportunity to be away from the farmhouse for a bit. Accompanying Yunho on his walk was quite peaceful. You never had a really close relationship with him as you did Wooyoung or Yeosang, but you were happy to be around him. It certainly helped that your surroundings were breath-taking, with views you could barely get enough of. It was so vastly different from what you were used to living in the city, that being at the farmhouse felt all the more special. You were reminded that this was partially why you had agreed to come on this trip; to see the beauty of the nature park. Not to get wound up in drama you yourself created by being… Well, was there a word for the way you were feeling? The way you were acting?                It gave you some peace of mind walking with Yunho and realizing that he wasn’t going to break out in a lecture about not kissing Yeosang if you don’t like him, your everlasting crush on San, or whatever was going on with your friendship with Wooyoung. You had no desire to talk about any of that, but as you walked alongside Yunho, basking in the warm morning sunlight, it was the only thing you were thinking about.                By the time you guys circled back to the farmhouse, the others were up already. Most were still yawning and staring at their untouched plates of eggs and bacon with sleep in their eyes, but Yeosang perked up as you came in. He nodded with his head to get you outside on the patio from which you had seen San and Alice kissing the first night.                “I think I know what this is about,” you started. “Yeo, I was very drunk. It didn’t mean anything between us, at least not to me. I hope you understand.”                “I-“ Yeosang started, but he was interrupted by someone you really didn’t want to see at this particular moment.                “If you don’t like him, then why would you kiss him?” Wooyoung said, his arms crossing over one another in front of his chest. He stood leaning against the closed sliding door, obviously not understanding that this was a private conversation. Obviously not understanding that this was the last straw.                “Okay, I’m done with this,” you said. “Normally I feel like I can be honest with you both but for the past few days-“ You sighed, not fully comfortable with sharing every thought you had, the things that had drove you to go bed so early in the night to mull over by yourself. “You know, I did it because I had something to prove. And besides, why is everyone so upset over this? San is always face sucking Alice whenever he can and you!” You had subconsciously moved closer to Wooyoung, now pricking his chest with your finger. “You did whatever with Rose out there and you didn’t even know that everything you did, I could perfectly hear. You’re both having so much fun with the girls here, but are so quick to scold me for wanting to do the same with Yeosang?”                “That’s really not the same thing,” Wooyoung started.                “Oh, and what makes it different?”                “You’ve known Yeosang for years!”                “You’ve known Rose for years. San has known Alice for years.”                “It’s all not the same thing.”                “Do I get a say in this?” Yeosang said, finally intercepting. Perhaps he had got quite uncomfortable with seeing Wooyoung and you so close to each other, staring each other down.                You both broke away from each others’ gaze at the same time and spoke simultaneously: “No!”                There was a silence and finally a sigh from Wooyoung. “Come find me when you think you can talk like a grown-up, yeah?” He didn’t even really sound mad, perhaps somewhere between defeated and disappointed. He tugged open the door and slammed it shut behind him. You waited for a second, not daring to look at Yeosang, before you followed Wooyoung inside. Instead of heading up the stairs behind him, you went into the kitchen and out onto the patio.                There was no one out. You hoped for Yeosang that he was inside, since clouds had gathered above and there was a light drizzle coming down now. You let it cool your temper as well as your skin, thinking of the trip. You had looked forward to it for so long but it really wasn’t going as you had planned. Yes, you had joked with Daemi and Yechan that some crazy things would happen, claiming that Mingi would be the first one to throw up because of all of the alcohol (you were right about that) and that someone would accidentally throw someone in the pool while they still had their phones on them (hadn’t happened yet, but the trip wasn’t over). Daemi had bet that she would get into an argument with Yechan, Yechan had bet that she would catch Seonghwa and Sooyoung in a compromising position.                The bet made about yourself had been that you would drunkenly act upon your crush on San. You had known when placing the bets with your friends that there was a very slim chance you would ever dare to approach San in that way and as you stood outside, overlooking the mountain area, you realised you didn’t want San anymore. Not the way you had always wanted him, at least.                You used to think San was relationship material, the only guy you wanted to fulfil the need of having a boyfriend. But he wasn’t. He was perhaps too flirty, perhaps too much a person you could only look at from a distance and admire. He wasn’t boyfriend material. Just a friend.                So what about Yeosang? Was that you drunkenly acting upon your hidden crush for him? Was that kiss because you liked him? Was he even boyfriend material to you? No. The answer was simple and clear, you didn’t even have to think about it. Yeosang was just one of your closest friends. He was sweet, really, and you would be lying if you said you had never thought about how it would have been if you were to date him. You were sure he harboured fond feelings for you as well, but those were probably along the same line as what you felt for him. Nothing romantic. After all, it was Yeosang, and you two had known each other for forever. You’d seen each others’ good and bad sides and you thought you knew what he would be like in a relationship. You’d seen his failed relationships play out in the past. You thought you had that figured out.                So then that kiss… Who were you trying to prove something to? What were you even trying to prove? It was true what you had said, however. You were trying to prove to yourself that... Your mind flicked to the first night, when you had heard Wooyoung and Rose’s escapades. You were bothered about it, in a different way than what you had felt when you caught San and Alice.                You replayed the fight you just had with Wooyoung in your head. What did he care what you were up to? You sat down on the small bench. It was wet now, washed clean by the rain; there was no way you otherwise would have sat down on it, considering what had happened a few days before. You rested your head against the wall of the farmhouse. Closing your eyes, you saw the look in Wooyoung’s eyes. You felt how close you had been standing to him.                A knock on the patio door startled you. When you opened your eyes you saw Yeosang, eyes big and with two mugs on a tray. “Hey, Y/N… Can we talk? I brought hot chocolate.”                “Sure,” you said, patting the spot next to you. Yeosang came outside, handing you the tray as he closed the door behind him. “What did you want to talk about?”                “Well… I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. About anything.” This was clearly something that had been bothering him for a while, longer than everything that has gone on in the farmhouse. “Yesterday when you kissed me… I know why you did it and I know why you’ve been so upset these past couple of days. But I just wanted to clear things up so there’s no misunderstandings between us. And besides, I feel like I have lied to you all these years I’ve known you.” He took a deep breath, his hands wrapping around the mug. You saw he was shaking and his nails were bitten down. Maybe you hadn’t paid enough attention to his feelings, instead only rambling on about yours. “I guess I got a little upset this morning too. I hate seeing you and Wooyoung fight, for many reasons. But also because… because I am in love with Wooyoung.”                “W-what?”                “I like Wooyoung. Y/N… I’m gay.”                “But, Yeo…” You bit your lip, wrapping your own hands around the mug. From everything he could’ve said, this was the least of what you had expected. “Wooyoung is… straight.”                “I know, I know!” Yeosang quickly said. “I’ve always known I don’t have a chance with him. Not romantically. I’m fine being his friend, just his friend. You have to believe me.” He was still shaking however. “I also know that no matter what, I want to see him happy. And knowing what I know, you would realize that the Wooyoung he is around Rose? That’s not him being truly happy.”                You frowned. “What are you trying to say?”                “I mean that he’s more into you than he’s into Rose.”                “What?” You shook your head. “Yeo, that’s not right. Wooyoung doesn’t like me like that. I mean, it’s pretty clear-“                “Why do you think that everyone is so upset with you kissing me?” Yeosang chuckled. “They might’ve thought you were into San, or now that you’re into me. But they know for sure that Wooyoung is into you. He’s told San and I that much before. And I think you like him back.”                “How does everyone know that better than I do myself?”                He shrugged. “I can’t speak for everyone, but… All these years of being in love with Wooyoung means I look at him more or less the same way he looks at you. And when you look at him? I see the same thing. You two are just oblivious to each other.”                You finally took a sip of the hot chocolate, your thoughts aligning in your head to form a question: “So what does this thing with Rose mean? Why did he… finger her?” You realized how pathetic it sounded to ask.                “I don’t know. That’s something you have to ask him yourself.”                You nodded and then you turned to Yeosang again. “Yeo, thanks for telling me. I appreciate knowing that you trust me enough to.” You put your arm around him, pulling him into a side-hug like you used to do when you two were younger. “Who else knows?”                “Only Hongjoong does.”                “Of course,” you said. Joong had come out of the closet as bisexual about two years ago. It made sense Yeosang would want to go to him, knowing Hongjoong wouldn’t judge him. “Nothing changes, Yeo.”                You hope Yeosang feels relieved, finally having that burden off his shoulders. You talk a little about how long he’s known and eventually Yeosang asks to leave the subject alone for now and go swimming instead. You are not one to deny him, so you head upstairs to get changed and meet him at the swimming pool. It’s empty except for Yechan and Seonghwa. Sooyoung and Soojin are on sunbeds on the side, but it’s clear the girls were fast asleep. The drizzle of before has stopped but the clouds have remained, however the temperature is climbing upwards as you’re in the pool.                When you and Yeosang join, it breaks up the conversation between Yechan and Seonghwa, the latter of them suggesting to play a game instead. You team up with Seonghwa to even out the playing field and through multiple rounds of a handball-resembling game, you realise that it was futile because you and Seonghwa were bound to lose the second you agreed to teaming up together.                The sun started going down while you were still hanging by the pool, wrinkled out like a raisin but enjoying the contrast between the cool water of the pool and the stifling heat of the overcast summer weather. You and Yeosang didn’t get out of the pool until Anna came to collect everyone for dinnertime. You’re happy sitting in between Yeosang and Mingi – who had remained in his room for the better part of the day, insanely hungover again and having emptied his stomach multiple times – as they talk over your head about this TV show they figured out they both had been watching.                Having not changed out of your bikini for dinner, you are the first to get back into the water afterwards. It’s still warm outside, although it’s pretty much pitch black except for the porchlight. It’s bound to rain and you guess there will probably be thunder and lightning involved. After a moment, you’re joined in the water with Daemi and Yechan, and then Yunho and Mingi, and then San and Alice. As you float around, trying to avoid getting caught in the middle of Daemi-Mingi against Yechan-Yunho, you glance over at San and Alice. They were laughing at whatever joke they told each other, genuine happiness in their eyes, and you knew it didn’t matter that you thought you had a crush on San. He was obviously very happy with Alice. It didn’t matter.                That feeling was amplified when you noticed Wooyoung, just a small distance behind San and Alice, kicking around a ball with Jongho. You were about to look away when you saw him glance over and shoot you a smile. Despite your fight, you smiled back. Maybe this was the right time to make up. You nodded your head in the direction of the trampoline, farther our into the field behind the farmhouse. It was too dark to see out by the trampoline, even with the porchlight, so no one went there at night. It was the perfect spot.                Wooyoung nodded, kicked the ball back to Jongho and said: “I’ll be right back. Go annoy Hongjoong, he looks bored.”                You both laid down on the trampoline in silence, staring up at the sky. Clouds were chasing each other and there was a low rumble in the distance. Thunder. “I’m sorry about how I reacted,” you said, knowing to speed this up. You had known Wooyoung since you two were little and he was still scared of thunder and lightning. By now he had grown up more and also matured – he had told you he still was a little scared, but at least he saw the beauty in the violence of Mother Nature.                “Me too.”                “I just didn’t want to see Yeosang get hurt.”                You were hit suddenly with the realisation that Wooyoung had no idea about Yeosang’s sexuality, or his crush on him. You wouldn’t tell him, because it was up to Yeosang to tell, and that meant that you couldn’t say that it didn’t matter you had kissed Yeosang, because of obvious reasons. Instead you said: “Yeo and I discussed it earlier today. We’re not mad at each other or anything. And I figured this was the best possible time to be honest with you.”                “About what?”                “About…” you sighed lightly. “About that I might… like you?”                “You like me?” Wooyoung sounded no longer like himself, but a little more choked up, his tone of voice very serious. Was he angry at you for sharing this? For fucking up your friendship? You hadn’t even considered the consequences to your friendship, or what any of this would do to your dynamic between you two and Yeosang.                “I guess?”                “You guess or you know?”                “I don’t know. I think I do. Everyone tells me I do.”                “Well, if you don’t know, then I cannot tell you that I like you too.”                Now it was your turn to feel stunned. “What?” You had been told by Yeosang, of course, but that was different. Now you heard it right from the source, from Wooyoung himself.                “I like you too.”                “But I thought you were more into Rose,” you said. “I mean, you two… out on the patio… I thought you were more into her.”                Wooyoung shrugged, making the whole trampoline wiggle. “She’s pretty. I- Okay, I have shared so much with you before but it feels so weird saying it now.” He let out an awkward laugh before he said: “I just felt horny. You know? And Rose was there and she was horny too and she’s not a sight for sore eyes, so I thought: what’s so bad about this? I didn’t know you were showering right above us, or that you had the window open. Otherwise I would’ve probably taken her somewhere else. Or not done it at all.”                “You were just horny?” you repeated. Wooyoung nodded, the trampoline shaking again. “So no feelings for Rose then?”                “Nope,” he said, letting the p pop. “Nothing serious. Not like the way I feel for you.”                You moved over closer to him, shakily reaching out for his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise it sooner. Then we wouldn’t have had to fight.”                “I should’ve told you the second I knew,” he said, taking your hand in his and squeezing it lightly. “So what made you realise? I knew you liked San-“                You blushed, which fortunately, he could not see. “Can we not talk about San right now? I mean, yes, I had a crush on him, but it was silly. I mean, I liked him when we were still in high school, you know? He was the guy every girl had a crush on and I guess I just jumped on the bandwagon. And I always thought it would be easier to hook up with him because we were already friends, but that just makes it more difficult. And I don’t know him as well as I know you. I just don’t feel what I think you’re supposed to feel when you’re in love – with him. I never noticed the way I feel about you, though, until I compared my feelings for you to what I feel for San or Yeosang.”                “Well, you’d best believe it was torture to see you kissing Yeosang, not knowing what you were truly feeling.”                “Would it be better if I kissed you instead?” And with no further words, you bridged the distance between the two of you, softly kissing his lips. Where your kiss with Yeosang had primarily taken place because you were drunk and trying to make whoever else jealous, the way you had been jealous all throughout the trip, this kiss served an entirely different purpose. It was strange too, kissing Wooyoung, whom you had known for so long and never imagined you would harbour romantic feelings for. But there was a spark, a spark that caught and ignited a flame inside of you. A flame that apparently burned inside of Wooyoung as well, for he pulled you infinitely closer, until you were on his lap.                It was very uncomfortable on that trampoline, and you were glad when a dizzyingly bright flash of lightning followed by deafening thunder caused Wooyoung to yelp. “Let’s go inside,” you said, hopping off the trampoline and pulling Wooyoung with you.                As you walked back, your hand in his, he bent down a little to whisper in your ear: “Come to my room tonight, yeah? Take your film camera.”                And so you did. After everyone had gone to bed, you sneaked out of yours to cross the floor to the room Wooyoung shared with San.

Day 4 The room smelled of boy. And not just any boy. You glanced around in the darkness, the first thing that stuck out to you being Shiber. San had brought his cuddle toy to this trip? You wondered for a second what Alice would think of her having to share the bed and San with Shiber, until you realized that she wasn’t there. You shut the door after yourself, blocking out the light from the hallway to prevent San from waking up, instead going over to Wooyoung. You set your film camera down on the night stand and when you turned to look at Woo, he was already sitting up in the bed.                “There you are,” he said. He sounded surprisingly relieved.                “Did you think I wasn’t going to show up?”                Wooyoung didn’t answer but instead pulled you onto the bed, blindly placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss. Instantly, it clouded your mind with desire for him. Your head spun as he pulled you on top of him. You gasped as he let himself fall backwards onto the bed, allowing him to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. It was almost obscene – how good of a kisser Wooyoung was, how his tongue softly tapped against yours, how his hands slid down from your face to the hem of your pyjama shorts, slipping his hands under the fabric and onto your ass.                You groaned into his mouth as his hands knead your ass, pulling you closer to him. Wooyoung pulled back only a little bit, but you hated the moment, his voice slightly breathless as he said: “Don’t be too loud. San might wake.”                You glanced over to the other bed and yelped to find San already sitting upright, Shiber wrapped in his arms, just staring at you. “What the fuck!” you exclaimed.                “I’m already awake,” San said.                Wooyoung pushed himself up on his elbows. “Have you just been… listening to us? Watching us? The whole time?”                San shrugged. “It was kind of hot. Maybe next time you’ll allow me to join in.”                You looked at Wooyoung for a second, exchanging a glance. There was an unspoken conversation within that glance, a result of many years of friendship in which you had been a unit, had had an unbreakable bond. And now all of that was transforming into whatever this was, and someone was asking to partake in this same adventure with you? You gulped as you realized what you were seeing in Wooyoung’s eyes. “Fuck,” you muttered. And you nodded.                “San, come here,” Wooyoung said, his voice an octave deeper. San was quick to throw Shiber aside and make his way over to you. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him move this fast, although he was as quick to come to a halt at the side of the bed. You felt your breath hitch as Wooyoung grabbed San’s shirt in his hand and pulled him closer, essentially making San topple over on the bed as he lost his balance. “I think Y/N hasn’t had enough love this trip. If you know what I mean.”                You gulped, not entirely knowing what to say. The boy you were currently into and the boy you had always been harbouring a crush on were on the bed together with you and it was pretty clear what was going to happen now. You felt a familiar wetness, synchronic with San nodding to Wooyoung’s statement. “I think we should give her whatever she wants, don’t you agree?” San nodded again. Wooyoung then turned to you: “Tell us what you want us to do.”                For a moment you were about to ask for what you had always lusted after, which was a filthy, intense make out session with San. But right now, looking at him – his shirt crumpled in the place Wooyoung had pulled him in, his hair messy from having been in bed earlier, his plump lips slightly parted and with a small tent visible through his pyjama pants – you knew what you wanted to see. And still it even surprised you a little when you said: “Kiss each other.”                San’s head shot around to look at Wooyoung, physically below the both of you but in some other way he was dominating you both. “Is that okay?”                Wooyoung leaned up only a little bit to put his hand on the back of San’s head and pull him in, their lips locking. Right off the bat there was tongue involved. You were well aware that you were staring, and well aware that there was no one to catch you staring as San increasingly got more comfortable and seemed more into the kiss. “Slowly,” you instructed. “Slowly.” They listened as if they were puppets, entirely under your control.                The kiss was somehow more heated now that they weren’t hungrily clawing at each other. You thought to yourself how this couldn’t be real life. Just a couple of days ago you had been wanting San as badly as ever, then you had thought him to belong to Alice, and now he was here. Let alone the entire situation with Wooyoung – how just a few hours ago you had still been angry with him for fingering Rose on the patio. But that was something you didn’t want to think about at that moment. “Woo, strip San for me, please.”                Wooyoung listened well – he helped San lift his arms above his head and proceeded to take off his shirt for him, tossing it aside. Next were San’s pants. It took a bit more effort to strip those and then get rid of his boxers too. “San, your turn,” you said. There was no shame visible in Wooyoung, who seemed utterly comfortable with stripping as well. They were still kissing, albeit a little bit more clumsy now San was trying to take Wooyoung’s pyjama’s off. It had never occurred to you that perhaps San wasn’t all that confident and experienced as you had taken him to be. Perhaps he had only been truly intimate with a handful of people. Perhaps this was a first for him – the first time he had a threesome. You couldn’t say you had any experience in this department either.                “Woo-“ you started, but the instructions you were about to give him stuck in your throat as Wooyoung ripped himself free off San and said: “Aren’t you going to get undressed, baby?”                Your mouth almost fell open in an o-shape at the pet name. You had never heard Wooyoung call anyone by a pet name. Let alone be the one to be called one by him. “Sorry.” You felt like you had to say sorry. Why? You weren’t sure. “San?”                San, who visibly wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but was along for the ride regardless, scooted over so he could reach for you. He was less clumsy with you, but you weren’t sure if you had to attribute that to past experiences with girls or to not being engaged in a wild make out session with you. Which quickly changed as your lips smashed together.                Now the three of you were all fully naked, everything that was uncomfortable or awkward about the situation seemed to ebb away. You wrapped your arms around San’s neck, pulling yourself up a little bit so you could rub yourself on him. You couldn’t remember how long it had been since you had started crushing on him, but you had had some fantasies and wet dreams about San before. Admittedly, you’d had them about Wooyoung too. You felt his hands sneak in between San and you and jumped a little from the sudden sensation of Wooyoung’s thumb against your clit. You were sure his other hand was wrapped around San’s shaft – there was no other explanation for the sudden noise that erupted from the boy, your kiss temporaily stopping.                “What do you want me to do, baby?” Wooyoung’s soft voice sounded.                “Hm-“ You didn’t trust yourself to be able to properly tell him what you wanted, so instead you let go of San to kiss Wooyoung instead. San chased after you, attaching his lips to your neck. The confidence he gained made you groan into Wooyoung’s mouth as San nibbled and licked and sucked, sure to leave marks behind. There were noises from San as well, noises that were only explainable by Wooyoung moving his hand on San.                It occurred to you that this was every girls’ dirtiest fantasy and you weren’t taking one second for granted. You let Wooyoung push you back onto the bed, which was in no way able to fit three people in it, but you somehow made it work. You were glad Wooyoung didn’t need any verbal instructions; softly pushing his head down, in the direction of where you needed him most, was enough. He went to work, expertly licking and sucking. It nearly made you fold in on yourself from the sheer pleasure he was giving you, but you were too busy tending to San’s proud erection, oozing precum from Wooyoung’s earlier ministrations.                You wrapped your lips around him, working your mouth in a way that was sure to earn San’s approval – it was audible in his moans and groans, ones you gave back to him from Wooyoung’s actions. San was the first to succumb. The pleasure rendered him nearly unable to speak, but you understood the little taps on your cheek well enough. You didn’t pull away however, allowing San’s cum to fill your mouth. And you swallowed.                San seemed just about spent, but he didn’t leave you hanging. Instead, he went to work on your neck again, his hands coming up to cup your boobs. San didn’t have to do much for Wooyoung had done most of the work on getting you to your high. You came with a high-pitched moan; there was a certain shyness overtaking you at the sound you hadn’t previously thought you could make. You were panting, admiring Wooyoung and your glistening juices on his lips as he came up. There was very little to no talking as you motioned for him to come closer. The sudden urge overcame you – you couldn’t explain what had triggered it. You pushed yourself up just a little bit, in a way that wouldn’t disturb San, as you pulled Wooyoung just a little bit closer, your tongue darting out to lick Wooyoung’s lips, getting a taste of yourself.                “What about you?” you asked tracing your hand down Wooyoung’s chest, down his happy trail, to his cock. “What do you want? Tell me.”                “San-ie,” he said. San looked up from his work on your neck, his eyes slightly hazy. “I want you… to suck me.” That was the first time you saw Wooyoung seem even just a little bit fazed by the situation, instead of looking like he had everything under control. “And Y/N, baby… kiss me.”                You gave San a quick kiss on his lips before coming up onto your knees so you could reach Wooyoung better. There was equal part of kissing and moaning from Wooyoung’s side – he was a lot more vocal than you had expected. The part of Wooyoung that was moaning mirrored the part of you that wanted him inside of you, but tonight was not the night. Instead, tonight was the night Wooyoung grabbed your film camera from his night stand and, in the dark, figured out how to take photos of you and San, coated in Woo’s cum. Yes, tonight was the night Wooyoung coated both you and San in cum – and then went to clean it up himself with San’s T-shirt from the floor.                “Woo,” San complained, but you both heard quite clearly that his heart wasn’t in it.                “Ssh.” Wooyoung pressed a kiss against San’s forehead and then to yours. “Let’s go to sleep.”

The bed really was too small for three people. You had thought it the night before and you were proven right the next morning, when you woke up to a yelp from a distraught San – he had fallen off the bed. He was disgustingly handsome, but your heart didn’t flutter the way it had before. What had remained the same, however, was the heat in your cheeks at the memory of what you got up to the night before, the evidence right there on San’s T-shirt, which he had picked up off the floor with a disgusted expression. “I probably won’t be able to wear this ever again. Damn you, Wooyoung.”                You were surprised to find Wooyoung awake already too, one of his arms folded behind his head. His eyes had been closed before, which lead you to believe he was still asleep, but the smile that played on his lips was unmistakably one of someone who was awake and heard every word of what San had just said.                You watched as San strode across the room and threw his T-shirt in the trash can behind the door. “I’m taking a shower,” he announced, leaving you and Wooyoung in the bed by yourselves as he closed the door behind him.                Wooyoung’s eyes stayed closed, his smile having slightly faded. You pushed yourself up on one elbow and looked at Wooyoung, really looked at him. You had known him for so many years, had gone on so many adventures with him… This was the next big adventure. You reached out, doing something you had always thought of doing but never felt confident enough to. You traced his finely shaped eyebrows, the curve of his eyes… You trailed your finger down his cheeks to rest at the corner of his lips. You were about to carefully trace his lips, full and relaxed, when Wooyoung suddenly snapped his teeth at your finger.                “Woo!” you complained, pouting at him. His eyes were open now, the brown highlighted to several shades of gold in the narrow stroke of sunlight from the window. By the way the sun shone into the room, you could see it was nearing noon. Although in that case, it wasn’t exactly morning anymore, this was by far the best morning you had spent at the farmhouse. “Why did you do that?” You let your finger fall back to his lips and this time he let you trace them, his warm breath hitting your skin. When you let his lips alone, opting to crawl into his embrace instead, you said: “San joined us last night…” Stating the obvious. Great.                “Was it good?” Wooyoung asked, his hand coming up to play with your hair.                “Yeah. I liked it.”                “Me too.” You could hear from his tone of voice – delicious, delicious morning voice – that he was smiling. “I hope San had a good time too. But next time I want you all to myself.”                You felt your heart flutter at his words. There was a next time and that next time would consist of you and Wooyoung exploring each other. You were absolutely certain that this was the best morning at the farmhouse – you felt like the happiest girl on earth. You didn’t know what to say, so instead you just hummed in agreement.                “Would you like me to bring you breakfast?” Wooyoung asked after a while.                “Eggs and sausages,” you said.                “Ooh, making demands now? Actually using your words?” He chuckled and tapped your shoulder, signalling you to get up so he could move. You pushed yourself up and watched as Wooyoung got out of bed. With his back toward you, you saw his muscles stand out as he bend to pick up his shirt off the floor. The room was a mess. “Any preferences for your breakfast beverage, milady?”                You grinned. “The finest tea you serve, milord.”                “Of course.” He bowed before making his way out of the room.                As you were left alone in Wooyoung’s bed you tried to wrap your head around the events of the night before. Coming to the farmhouse you had never expected that this was the way you would end the trip. You hadn’t even suspected anything remotely like this would happen. You got out of bed, dressing yourself in the clothes from the night before, before crossing the room to open up the window.                You had just crawled back into bed, sitting up with your back against the wall, when San came back, his hair wet and a towel hung lowly around his waist. He closed the door behind him and got to getting dressed as you watched him. The silence between the two of you was palpable but nonetheless quite comfortable. You wouldn’t know what to say anyway.                “I didn’t mean to insert myself,” San suddenly spoke up, sitting down on the edge of his bed, clutching Shiber to his chest, “in between you and Woo. I know it was all quite new to you both.”                You shrugged, leaning your head against the wall. “We both wanted it. You didn’t insert yourself in at all. Was it good?” you couldn’t help yourself asking.                San nodded, his cheeks turning pink. “I hadn’t expected it.”                “Believe me, me neither.” You looked at the way San was playing with Shiber’s tail. “It was really new to us,” you then said, surprising the both of you. “I mean, we were friends. And now we’re more.”                “I think everyone saw it coming.”                “I don’t think so,” you said, shaking your head. “You know, I was always crushing on you.”                “You were?” San looked up, stopping his playful antics with Shiber. “I didn’t notice.”                You nodded. “It was a long time crush. But there’s a difference between crushing on someone and loving someone. I realised that because I watched you and Alice.”                There was no response to the mention of Alice. You found you didn’t really care. San resumed playing with Shiber, but his eyes stayed trained on you. “So why Yeosang?”                “Vengeance.” You knew how terrible that sounded but there was no other word for it. “He was… there. I know it’s wrong. But I needed to know why I felt so jealous of Rose.” With a sigh you let yourself fall sideways onto the bed. “Now I do. And now I know why I don’t love you. Not in that way.”                The door opened to reveal Wooyoung carrying a tray, a literal mountain of food on the plate that he carried, a tea pot and three cups next to it. “Breakfast!” He set the tray down on the floor, and despite the mess that was the room, the three of you crowded around the tray to eat the breakfast Wooyoung had prepared.                The idyllic bubble of Woosan’s room had to be broken some time. You regretted stepping foot out of the room the second you did it, but you felt dirty so you wanted to shower, and besides that, you had to pack up the rest of your belongings to return home. You got into the shower, the same one you had been in the first day. The window was cracked open, letting in the sounds of nature and summer. You shut your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the water scorching your body.                Yechan was waiting for you in your bedroom when you got back to pack up. “I know where you went last night. I’m glad I didn’t have to hear it. I know Seonghwa and Sooyoung had a front row seat though.” She smiled. “So, you have to tell me all the details. How was your first threesome?”                “Yechan!” you covered your face with your hands. “I’m not going to talk about this with you.”                “Okay, maybe without details, then,” she said. “At least tell me you had a good time.”                You lowered your hands a little bit to look at her. Your best friend, with you through everything… “It was really good.” You bit your lip at the excitement that erupted from Yechan. Her happiness rubbed off on you, though, and soon enough you were, despite yourself, telling her just a few details. Like San having to throw out his shirt afterwards. You left out the pictures Wooyoung took of you and San. Those were private.                “Are you in a polyamorous relationship now?” she asked, her eyes wide and genuine.                You shook your head. “I don’t think so. I think it’s just me and Woo.”                Yechan nodded. “That’s good too.” She took your hand and softly squeezed, her smile saying more than words ever could.

The next person you had to talk to was Yeosang. You were carrying your bags out to the car when he popped up beside you. “Let’s go on the trampoline,” he said. You nodded, following him across the backyard to the trampoline, overlooking the vineyard. It was better in the day than it was last night.                The little kids in you jumped out by the way you nearly toppled over each other to get onto the trampoline, performing tricks as you jumped. After a bit you let yourself fall down, out of breath. “Yeo, I need to tell you something,” you said and he stopped jumping as well. “I had s-“                “Sex with Wooyoung. I know,” he said.                “You do?” Okay, perhaps you weren’t right to be surprised he knew. If you had to believe Yechan, the three of you hadn’t been very quiet. “I mean- San was there with us too.”                “I know. I heard everything,” Yeosang sat down on the trampoline now too. “The walls are pretty thin, you know.”                “I’m sorry.”                “You’re sorry that I heard?”                You chuckled. “Yes, that too. But also that I did that. Now that I know you like him-“                “It doesn’t matter,” Yeosang said, turning his head to look up at the sky, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. “He’s not into guys anyway and I know how much you two like each other. I haven’t been completely blind over the last couple of years, you know? I’ll find someone that likes me like that and that I’ll like back. I’m fine with what happened. Don’t worry about me.”                “If you’re so sure,” you said, looking up at the sky too. “I just feel guilty.”                “Don’t.” Yeosang reached over and grabbed your hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “Just know that Rose also heard and she’s crazy upset with you two.”                You sat up, looking over at him. “Just about how many people have heard every single second of last night?”                “How many people are with us on the trip?” Yeosang started counting on his fingers. “So 13. Except maybe Mingi. He was out cold. That makes 12.”                “Jesus Christ,” you swear. And you do so again when you return to the farmhouse to find Rose already storming out to find you. Apparently someone had told her you and Yeosang were hanging out on the trampoline. There’s a look in her eyes that you’re not sure you ever want to see in anyone’s eyes ever again. It speaks of all-consuming anger. “Rose-“ you start. And that’s also where you end. She didn’t even take the time or effort to talk it out. Her first reaction was violence.                You had always jealously compared Rose’s visuals to that of an angel, but the way she lashed out at you proved she was all but that. “You slut!” she shrieked, her nails finding a hold in your skin. You barely felt the pain as she raked her nails down your face. You had never thought of yourself as a violent person, but you also weren’t the person to back down from someone attacking you like this. Your pent up frustrations were threatening to spill out of you in a violent manner, but before you could do much damage to her, Mingi’s strong arms wrapped around you, picking you up as if you weighed absolutely nothing, carrying you away as Jongho did the same to Rose, who was now clawing at him.                Mingi set you down on the countertop of the downstairs bathroom, checking you for injuries like the worried big brother he always acts like towards you. “You’re bleeding.” He grabbed tissues for you to hold against the wound, as if that would help much. Silly, hungover Mingi.                “She has sharp nails,” you said, wincing as you pressed the tissues against the marks.                Wooyoung came storming in, carrying a white box with a red cross on it. “First aid!” he said, to which Mingi nodded and left. You bet he knew why Rose had got violent with you too. “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” Wooyoung said, opening up the first aid kit.                “It’s fine,” you said. “Did I at least fight her off a little bit?”                He laughed. “God, that that’s the first thing you’re thinking about… Here, you’re bleeding.” He got to work, cleaning up the scratches Rose’s nails left behind on your face and arm. His fingers were soft on your skin, leaving behind a trail of heat. Even though you hadn’t known him to be very skilled with cleaning up wounds and bandaging up injuries, he was doing quite a good job. Better than Mingi would have done, had this been his job to do. “And the way you stood your ground was pretty hot, Y/N.”                You chuckled. “You’re just saying that.” You looked at Wooyoung as he took expert care of you, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration, a habit you had always loved about him. You realized suddenly how blind you had been all along not to notice him, or his love for you. You had never actively fantasized about Wooyoung in a sexual way, although you had sometimes wondered what it would be like to have a romantic relationship with him. In your mind it had never worked out, whereas a relationship with San would seem the most plausible. He had always been the one boy you thought you would end up with, if it was going to be anyone out of the friend group. Everyone had known each other for varying lengths and with different intensities, something which had never lead you to believe that you and Wooyoung would be a good match.                “What are you looking at?” Wooyoung asked, chuckling, throwing away the stuff he had used to clean and bandage your wound.                “You,” you said, no trace of shyness.                “Like what you see?” Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows, his classic playfulness erasing what you had felt over the past couple of days, leaving only behind what you had always thought to be simple, platonic feelings for your best friend. But now you knew it was more.                You shrugged. “I think you could do better, but this’ll have to do.” You stuck out your feet, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer. “Thanks for stitching me up.”                “I’m sorry about Rose,” he said, his arms coming to rest around your waist. “Take the same car as me back?”                “So you can finger me in the backseat while no one notices?” You chuckled at the surprise on his face. Must be due to your sudden dirty mouth. “No, thanks. I’ll ride with Yunho and Jongho. But maybe we can see each other when we get back? Get lunch, or dinner… Go out on a real date…”                “A real date.” Wooyoung nodded. “Sounds wonderful.”

Alternative scene How the ‘morning after’ would have had gone, had I decided to stick with the shower Woosan x reader threesome I had originally planned to happen after the initial Wooyoung x reader sex scene

The room smells. Of what you’re not entirely sure, but it’s sour and makes your nose crunch up as you slowly open your eyes, only to find Wooyoung next to you. His dark brown hair was curling up at the ends and his mouth was slightly open, his chest bare. You had managed to wrap most of the blankets around yourself, leaving Wooyoung uncovered. Not just his chest was bare. You draped the blankets over him and in the process, noticed you were only wearing a T-shirt. That’s it. Just a T-shirt. When you glance underneath the covers, you see it’s Woo’s, one you got together while he was shopping for his First Date T-Shirt, nearly 4 years ago now. You smiled to yourself at the memory and turned onto your back.                That’s when you realize that it wasn’t just you and Wooyoung in the room. “San!” You pull up the covers again to cover yourself, even though there’s no bit of you left uncovered. He’s casually resting on his bed, eyes trained on you and Wooyoung in the bed.                “Good morning. What a coincidence I catch you here. Morning, Woo.”                “San,” Wooyoung groans out from next to you. He seems utterly unfazed to see you laying next to him. He must know you’re wearing nothing but his T-shirt. You also reckon San must know what has happened between you and Wooyoung. “Aren’t you supposed to complain about your headache?”                “I think throwing up prevented my headache,” San said, pointing at a bucket at his side of the room, standing half under half next to his bed. You guessed that was what the sour smell was all about. “Aren’t you two supposed to be even a little bit ashamed that you two had steamy, hot sex while I was literally in the same room with you?”                “I just seized the opportunity,” Wooyoung said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you against him. “And you were asleep.”                “Apparently not,” San said. “I was miserable, though. Maybe next time you decide to fuck each other again, you could invite me.”                “Oh, shut up,” you said, hiding your face in Woo’s chest. This is really just way worse than seeing San and Alice kissing on the edge of the swimming pool or Wooyoung fingering Rose while you’re in the shower. This is humiliation of a different kind.                “Why were you actually listening to us?” Wooyoung said.                San shrugged. “Like I said, I was miserable. Couldn’t sleep, especially not with those sounds. Disgusting. What would Rose say?” That remark landed him with Wooyoung’s pillow in his face. “Okay, yes, that was slightly mean. Sorry. Will it make you feel better if I say it was kind of hot though? Like, I don’t know what you did that made Y/N go like-“ He made a noise that landed him with your pillow in his face. “Okay, yes, shouldn’t have said that. But! Promise me next time you won’t let me get so drunk I won’t be able to join in, yeah?”                “Would you actually want to join?” you said. You weren’t sure if you were completely disgusted by this morning conversation with San, or if you were getting turned on again. You also weren’t entirely sure if you would have had Wooyoung pin you down underneath him if you had known San was in the bed opposite.                “Could be hot,” Woo said.                “Honestly, it’s been on my to-do list,” San said. “A threesome with someone who claims himself to be a sex god and also the hottest girl from high school? I wouldn’t say no to that.”                “You tell others you’re a sex god?” you laughed at Wooyoung who turned a suspicious shade of pink.

[nakedmossy]

Alone, Together - Chapter 4 [JJ x Reader]

JJ x READER

Description: JJ is not the only pogue on the cut who deals with abuse at home. Reader is an only child who lives with her mom and her abusive stepdad, has a strong relationship with JJ because they share the same home life. Reader experiences physical abuse for the first time, which changes her relationship with JJ irrevocably.

Chapter Summary: The next morning after the worst night of your life, you end up hanging out on John B’s boat with the pogues, the day takes a turn

Disclaimers: Mentions of physical abuse, swearing, alcohol.

_________________________________________________________

JJ was gone when you woke up. You stretched slowly, moving your arms around and flinching when the skin on your forearm pulled at the newly forming scab. You laid on your back and blinked up at the ceiling, recalling the events of last night. Your head was sore, your ribs were sore sore. You had never felt so cramped and tender in your life. The swelling on your eye felt like it had settled down a little bit, but you knew that meant the bruising would be infinitely worse. Mindlessly lifting a hand to your bruised rib cage you lost yourself in a wave of remembrance, your head filling with the sounds and sights of your stepdads fist coming at your face as you closed your eyes. You remembered falling back and hitting your face off the kitchen counter before hitting the ground, and the sickening sound of flesh on flesh as he had pounded blow after blow into your rib cage. The thought of it made you feel sick to your stomach. Then you remembered the party, and the expression on JJ’s face when he had seen your bruises, and his tenderness and his warmth. Then, as if you hit fast forward on a video, you catapulted yourself throughout the events at the Chateau, lingering briefly on the memory of JJ running out of the Chateau after seeing your bruised ribs. Your head started pounding again and you smiled when you remembered kissing JJ and how you ended up in bed. 

The smile was temporary. Your face was so sore and your head was killing you.

“Hey” You heard a quiet voice from the doorway and looked over the blanket pile to see John B smiling at you softly before walking across the threshold and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “How you feeling kid?”

You wiggled into a half sitting position against the headboard and shrugged, smiling back at him.

“I’m alright” You said, your voice groggy and weak. “Sore”

“I bet” He nodded, his face sad again. He chewed on his lip before remembering why he had come in and handing you a cup of coffee. 

“Thanks” He passed it to you gingerly and looked wounded when you winced at the pain from the movement of your ribs. “Where’s JJ?” You asked after a few sips.

“Outside” He said looking over his shoulder and out the window. “We’re getting the boat ready...you feel like coming out today?” 

You nodded slowly, thankful that he was offering you an out from sitting in the house all day and cowering from your impending reality. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

You shared a moment of silence that was only broken when John B shifted to sit closer to you and placed a hand on your leg overtop of the blanket.

“Listen, Y/N...I wanted to tell you last night, but um...anyways. I just want you to know that we’re all here for you.” He looked at you directly as he spoke, calm and steady. He was absolutely one of the kindest people you knew. “You don’t have to do anything alone...you’re not in this alone. You can stay here as long as you want. I don't...I don't want you to feel like you have to go back there.”

His expression was soft but concerned, as if he was expecting you to get up and leave right at that moment.

“Thank you” You said lightly, genuinely. “Really John B. I appreciate it. I mean, I will have to go home eventually but, not yet.”

John B bit his lip and nodded once, looking out the window again before standing up.

“Look...um, I might consider maybe not bringing that up with JJ for a bit. I think he’s pretty ..shaken up about the whole thing and the idea of you going back there...I just don't want you to be put in a bad situation because of his...well, how he is, you know?”

You smiled knowingly at him and felt your chest tighten at the brief memory of JJ leaving last night, intending to go find your step dad, before John B had stopped him. It could have been so bad, thank god for John B being level headed and strong.

“I wont mention it to him.” You said quietly. John B looked at you solemnly again before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Will you promise me something?” He said as he stood up straight again and lingered in the doorway. You nodded. “Can you just...let me know, before you go anywhere?”

You knew he meant before you go back there. You nodded again, holding your pinky out in the air and waiting for him to hold his up. You made the air motion of linking pinkies from a distance and that made John B’s face relax slightly. He tapped the door frame once then disappeared down the hallway, and you were alone again.

You needed to shower. You needed food. You needed a hug. But most of all, you needed to see what your face looked like. You slowly and carefully slid out of bed and walked towards the door to the shared bathroom, holding your rib cage to keep the skin from moving around. Closing the door behind you and standing in front of the mirror you slowly brought your eyes up to look at yourself, your stomach turning when you saw the deep blue and purple crescent moon shaped bruise on your cheek. It curved around your cheek bone and up your hair line towards the outline of your brow bone, two cuts were red and starting to scab over - one on top of your cheek bone, the other on your eyebrow. Your eye swelling had gone down, you could see properly out of it again, but the flesh all around your eye and your eyelid was purple and red. The only thing that didn’t look worse was the cut on the corner of your lip. 

Sighing deeply and groaning as you lifted up John B’s shirt, you saw the reflection of your ribs in the mirror and almost gagged. The bruising had spread into your abdomen and was sprinkled up and down your rib cage, onto your hip. You felt nauseous, like actually nauseous, and knelt down in front of the toilet. You felt your stomach twist and flip, a small line of sweat forming on your upper lip. You hadn’t eaten for two days by this point so there wasn’t really anything to throw up, but you dry heaved and gagged into the toilet, the stomach acid burning your throat and mouth. The regurgitation of fluids made your body shake slightly and you had to rest your head on the toilet seat to keep from tipping over. 

You heard a light knock on the door, then heard JJ’s voice saying your name, concern making it a deeper tone than normal. You mumbled something about ‘just a minute’ and wiped your mouth, waiting for the dizziness to subside. Standing up slowly and flushing the toilet, you rinsed some cold water in your mouth from the tap before opening the door. JJ stood towering in the frame, his face dark his eyes watching you intently. It softened slightly when you smiled at him.

“Hey JJ” You croaked, your voice hoarse from the puking.

“You okay?” He asked, backing up a little to let some light from the hallway through. You nodded, wiping your nose on the back of your hand.

“Just kind of...dizzy” You said before motioning to start walking. 

JJ backed up and let you walk past him back to the bedroom where you slowly lowered yourself onto the bed again. JJ had followed you in and closed the door behind him, leaning against it and crossing his arms loosely.

“Thanks for...staying with me last night” You blushed slightly, finding it hard to look him in the eye. He was so...goddamn. He was so tall, and so tanned, and so toned, and so perfectly JJ. 

“Of course” He said nonchalantly. “How are you feeling?”

“Sore. I think I need some pain killers for my...” You motioned your hand over your ribs and ran hour hand through your hair, trying to fluff it up so it wasn’t matted to your head from sleep.

JJ lifted himself off the door and walked towards you, sitting down next to you and reaching his hands out to hold your face. He moved it this way and that, examining the bruises in different lights, before holding it firm to look directly at him. His eyes held yours intensely and then he leaned in and kissed you gently, his lips barely grazing the surface of yours. His hands dropped when he pulled away and he watched you as you flitted emotions of insecurity and happiness across your face.

“What a night” He said quietly when you looked at him again. What an understatement.

“Yeah.” You agreed, your voice flat, your eyes drifted to a spot on the wall where you felt them daze as you spaced out, thinking about your stepdad hitting you again.

“Hey” JJ murmured quietly, bringing your attention back.

“Sorry” you said quickly, straightening your back and trying to move your stomach without hurting your ribs. “It’s just...well, you know” You said quietly. “Hard to think about”

You hadn’t addressed the fights you had with your stepdad with JJ in a few weeks, not since they had started to get more and more frequent, more and more violent. You knew all about JJ’s home life, you knew what he dealt with, and it wasn’t uncommon to see him show up to the Chateau every few weeks with a scratched face or remnants of a black eye. It was always upsetting and it always made you want to just ... take him away and take care of him. But it was a pattern and he always found a way to brush it off.

JJ knew about your home life too. He knew about how aggressive your stepdad was and how much a drunk he turned out to be. He was the first person you called when your mom got into it with him and you needed out of the house, he was always the first person to notice when you were off. He didn’t even need to ask anymore. It was an unfortunate shared experience you had between the two of you, but it brought you closer. Until last night with JJ, you felt like he was the closest thing you had to a brother. You had both grown up in those environments and didn’t have to explain it or talk about it ever - you just felt better being together. So it didn’t surprise you when the next thing JJ asked was:

“Why didn’t you tell me about your ribs” 

You started to chew your lip and felt your face get hot.

“I was worried what you would do” You spoke honestly, connecting your gaze with his. “I was worried what would happen if you knew.”

“Y/N,” He spoke your name softly. “We don’t keep secrets from each other. We never have.”

He reached his hand out for yours and held it, squeezing it lightly. “It’s always been you and me. We don't hide things.”

You felt a lump in your throat when you looked up at him and a tear started to cloud your eye.

“This was different, J” You said quietly, finding it hard to speak.

“I know. I get it.” He tried to reassure you, running his thumb up and down your wrist. “They don't get it, nobody else gets it, but I do.” He looked longingly at you, pleading with you to look at him. You did, and you felt the tear fall.

“Y/N, we’re...we’re not the lucky ones. We didn’t get the privilege of growing up in nice houses with fancy cars or normal parents. We got the shit end of the stick and...that’s just the way it went. But we always had each other. Do you know how many times that kept me going?”

He moved closer to you now, bringing his hand up to your face. “Do you know how many times it got me through my dads benders and fights? To know I wasn’t alone? That I just had to make it through the night and I would get to see you the next day? You, who understood what it was like living with psychos who just hated you simply for being alive? You were the only person I didn’t have to explain it to, you just got it. You made me feel like I wasn’t alone.”

He was speaking so passionately now that his lips were forming spit and his hands were squeezing tight.

“You saved my fucking life, Y/N. When nobody else could, not John B, not Pope or Kie, you.”

You were fully crying now, holding onto JJ’s legs and struggling to breath without hiccuping from the tears.

“I just want to...be able to save yours too.” 

You looked so deeply at him that you thought you would fall into his eyes and never come out, then you leaned forward and hugged him so hard you felt your ribs screaming in protest, but you couldn’t stop. You felt so deeply in love with JJ in that moment that you would have taken a bullet for him if you had to. He was your person.

“You do save me” You whispered into his hair, feeling him wrap his arms around you and pull you towards him, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. “I don't know what I would do without you.”

JJ moved his mouth to be directly beside your ear and breathed hot air before whispering “no matter how bad it gets, you gotta tell me. Promise?”

You nodded and whispered “promise” back truthfully.

~~~~~~~~

A few hours later you and the rest of the pogues were lounging on John B’s boat, enjoying the sunshine and the calm water. JJ was sat on a seat near the back, crafting a boat out of his empty bear can with his pocket knife. You were laid on the front of the boat with your head in Sarah’s lap while she played with your hair. 

When Pope and Kie had turned up later in the morning after getting back from their overnight trip to the mainland, Sarah had filled them in before they came in the house. Kie had started freaking out in front of you about how her dad knew a lawyer and how you were going to sue him for everything he was worth until Pope had told her to shut up and gave you a silent hug, not knowing what to say.

Now all of you were trying to go about your day normally, as if last night had mostly not happened, except instead of playing in the water or sunbathing in your bikini like you normally would you had a ball cap covering your face and a tank top over your bruises.

Kie and Sarah were arguing about something to do with university acceptance procedures and Pope was showing John B something he had been working on that would send an alert to their phones when the boat’s ignition rolled over - just in case.

You looked over at JJ and smiled, he returned your smile and winked. You had been staring at him for most of the morning, he was shirtless and glowing, his muscles moving as he worked.

Just as you started to move to sit up and readjust your position Pope alerted you all to the police boat coming down the marsh towards you. You all scrambled discreetly to hide the beer cans and then resumed your positions of relaxing nonchalantly as the boat pulled up beside yours and docked. JJ made eye contact with you intensely but you shook your head, trying to tell him to stay seated and stay calm.

“Shoupe” John B nodded at him from the captains seat.

Shoupe nodded at everyone, his normally sarcastic and overly-pompous-for-a-deputy expression darker than normal. You felt something in the pit of your stomach when he addressed everyone and his eyes landed on you. He said your name distinctly. You knew each other well enough. He had been to your house...multiple times in your adolescence and was fully aware of the type of household you lived in. He had detained your stepdad once every few months for the last few years for multiple offences. You were basically on a first name...or last name basis. You couldn’t count the amount of times he had left his personal business card and direct extension with you, donning a pitying expression, as you and your mom picked your stepdad up and paid his bail with your rent money.

“What can I do for you?” You replied, standing up slowly. Something felt off. He didn’t look angry or like he was there to reprimand you. He looked...concerned. “Shoupe?” You insisted.

He looked at your face and his shoulders got stiff around his ears, his hands resting on his gun belt.

“Y/N...I think you should come with us.”

JJ stood up and dropped his beer can boat carving, white knuckling his pocket knife.

“She did nothing wrong, whats this about?” He started to walk towards you but John B put his arm out to hold him back. 

Your limbs felt tingly and your stomach was flipping. Shoupe ignored JJ and looked back at you solemnly. His eyes and his face and the way he looked at you like he had the worst news in the world made your legs weak. He wouldn’t have driven the police boat out here, 20 minutes one way into the marsh, for no reason. He pursed his lips and looked around the boat before looking back at you, shaking his head and sighing.

“It’s your mom.”

____________

Tags: @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch 

[rouiyan]

𝘚𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘠 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛 [ 𝘭.𝘥𝘩 ]

⧏ part of the before i met you collective ⧐

synopsis: "how could i ever say no?"

✧ lee donghyuck x (fem.) reader, best friends to loverz

✧ genres : plotless fluff, tiny angst ✧ word count : 2k ✧ disclaimer : swearing

✧ author’s note — guys, hyuck deadass has my whole heart.

“ahh,” you hold your mouth wide open, eyes never leaving the screen, in the direction of donghyuck who had just returned from the kitchen, snacks in hand. he’s in his usual getup of an oversized hoodie paired with basketball shorts, glasses propped upon the bridge of his nose and a messy flop of hair cascading over it. 

he sighs, “geez, give me a break. i barely just sat down.” he pinches open a bag of spicy potato chips and pops one into his mouth before reaching to get another one for you. you’re clicking furiously and muttering various curses under your breath at the opponent and donghyuck's weak heart can’t help but flutter at how worked up you get every time you fail to land a punch. he’s about to put his hand down and wait for a time when you're not so focused but your mouth snatches at the chip and he almost jumps, his hand fearing consumption.

it takes your absolute all before you finally beat the boss, you eyes almost rolling back into your head and refusing to roll back out because of how exhausted they are. school was about to start, in three days to be exact, and if you didn't finish the game now, well, it was now or never. donghyuck sat by your side, mouth full of greasy potatoes, occasionally sipping from whatever drink he had brought. there was no reason for him to be here, he just insisted that he felt you tended to need some emotional support whenever you gamed, claiming that you were always far too 'out of it' to actually care for yourself. he said, as he always does, that it was his job to care for you. and that held true; no matter if you had a boyfriends at the time or not, donghyuck manged keep his word.

turning to look at him, your breath ragged, you see that his hood is pulled well over his forehead. chuckling, you take a fistful of the front of his sweatshirt and gently yank him towards you while grasping at the material of his hood with your other hand and tugging it back. this action causes his heart to topple and his eyes to stutter wide. your nose is close enough for him to move bare centimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. your lips are close enough for him to move bare millimeters and place a gentle kiss on it. he gulps. this can't be good.

giggling and awfully unaware of your best friend's crush for you growing by the second, you scrunch your nose at him (the very nose he wanted to kiss) and purse your lips, "i wanna see your face, silly." all donghyuck can do is swallow his feelings and instead be left breathless by your side profile. the more rational side of his mind is busy scrambling for a reply that doesn’t make him sound like the lovesick idiot of the century while the more irrational side is left in a blundering mess, bouts of adoration emitting from within. he collects himself and makes sure his countenance doesn't give away his rumbling inner thoughts. “you like what you see?” 

your smile grows fonder, if possible, at his comment but he doesn’t dare to take his eyes from your face just because he knows the little blush that’s to appear. soon enough it blooms across your cheeks and he lovingly coos at the sight while your smile reverses into a small pout. “ugh, so flirty,” he hears your muttered reply although he's unsure if he was meant to. your head is already turned back to the screen after the little exchange and he holds onto it as you press ‘resume,’ replaying it in his head just to see that bright smile and little pout that he could never get sick of.

a few more chips are fed to you while you continue playing, which would be completely fine if not for your incredibly low spice tolerance. it isn't long before donghyuck notices your aggressive hissing that is definitely not from the sight of your character frolicking through a field. he's on the cusp of bringing it to your attention when you abruptly speak between two seethes, "hyuck, get me water please," he immediately moves from his spot to get water from the kitchen when you voice out your struggles once again. "actually, just get me anything. it doesn't matter." 

donghyuck watches as your tongue curls at the tingles and he gauges the severity of the situation. he quickly snatches the drink he'd brought with him, despite knowing you wouldn't like it very much, and brings it up to your lips. you take one, two, three gulps before you turn to look at him with wide eyes. he swears your about to hurl the contents onto him and he winces in preparation but it never comes. you thickly swallow, the liquid almost threatening to bubble up once again, a gag reflex. the spicy sensation is gone but is now replaced by blatant disgust as your mouth hangs open as if you’d been force fed. 

"red bull? hyuck, you're fucking kidding me!"

he bites back a smile as he settles his eye on your disbelieving face, "you said it didn't matter!"

"yeah, i did say that but that's red bull! literal poison!"

"hey, you’re not gonna die from one sip." a smirk is now forming on his face, he feels equally bad and equally good for being the center of your current attention.

"i can't believe you're still drinking that, hyuck." the pout returns and donghyuck silently rejoices, "i thought you said you were cutting back."

he bathes in your eyes for a split second before he simply replies, "i am."

"so what's that?" you eye the can suspiciously, upset that your best friend still succumbs to the unhealthy beverage. 

"it's just a little energy boost, princess. i gotta stay awake to keep you company."

the nickname that accidentally slips past his lips catches the both of you off guard, his cheeks flaming a deeper red with each moment passing. you seem to handle the flustered silence better than he does, even going as far as furthering his state by scooting closer to him and placing both hands on one of his shoulders, propping your chin upon them. he can feel your fresh breath tickle and fan the skin under his ears and he knows that if he just so much turns his head in the slightest, he will be face to face with you in all your glory, without much space in between. he's not sure if he's ready for that.

clearly you don't give a shit because you tilt your head upwards to give him a kiss to the cheek. a soft, billowy kiss that leaves him stuck in that same trance, perpetually. withdrawing, you try poking at his sides to see if his expression will budge from the fazed out gaze he's sporting, but to no avail. "hyuck? are you okay?" he can hear you but he knows he's way too 'out of it' to answer. damn, you were supposed to be the one that was 'out of it.' 

the sudden quietness of the room unsettles you and you're suddenly aware of his reaction. weird, you think, hyuck is never like this. hyuck's always and constantly flirting back and making sure he has the last word. you have an inkling on what this could be about but you almost instantly flush down the idea of bringing it up but it's hard to suppress because your gut instinct tells you that you’re right, that you should go for it. no, he really can’t like you. no, you're just deluding yourself... unless, you're not.

"hyuck," you blurt before you can even stop yourself. his head snaps up at the sound of his nickname. "do you like me?"

where it was previously beating a mile a minute, donghyuck's heart is now at a complete standstill. he can still hear it thumping louder than ever in his ears but he knows there's no way he'll live through this. taking a second to zone out of the whole situation, he notes that your character on the screen is now being mauled by a mob of freakish creatures, though the volume is turned low. he notes how your fingers are absentmindedly drumming on the fabric of your sweats as you usually would when you're nervous and that your blinking more than normal. maybe that was a sign you liked him back? maybe, but surely no. there's a dull ache in his heart that yearns for him to be selfish and just say no. he'd spare the potential loss of your presence by his side and just cope with always being the 'best friend.' but then he thinks of you meeting someone, that's not him, and dating someone, that's not him, and maybe one day even marrying someone, that's not him. he admits that the pain will be far greater than the dull ache he's experiencing now and perhaps that knowledge is exactly what he needs to persuade himself. donghyuck steels his heart because he thinks he's finally found the perfect reasons, the perfect timing, the perfect amount of courage to confess. 

and he also knows that, if this were to go downwards, it might as well be the last time he sees you like this, dressed down in the dead middle of night, hair a tangled yet endearing (or so he thinks) mess, and eyes wide, holding galaxies upon galaxies of stars, none of which could compare to the sheer light you radiate. donghyuck makes sure to revel in your presence, for what could be the very last time, to capture your features, the ones he already has committed to memory. he breathes.

then, without warning, "hyuck…i love you," wait, what?! "hyuck, i love you as more than a friend." your pupils are shaking and there's tears that are unshed but visible. there's so much more that's stuck in your throat refusing to come out but the few words that made it past the threshold of your mouth already say enough. donghyuck expects the grim reaper to appear in a matter of seconds, he expects to be able to detach his spirit from his physically unmoving figure and watch as you say those words over his dead body. any minute now. but the more he sits there the more he realizes that this is real. you are real.

you can feel the emotions building up inside of you while he just stares at you. unmoving, he stares and stares and stares until you think that you've only imagined the last few moments. your crying now and perhaps that's the only things that slaps donghyuck out of his trance. he rushes his arms around you in the most automatic matter. it isn't until your the front of your face soaks the entirety of the front of his hoodie that you feel a little less shitty. your face is smushed flush against his chest and when you finally come to your bearings, you notice his heartbeat contracting erratically on your forehead. emerging from his embrace yet still in his hold, you meet your eyes with his. they're wide and scared, reminding you of just moments ago. 

"i was- i was going to say that, exactly that but i- i guess you beat me to it."

"then... do you wanna be my boyfriend?" i want to be your girlfriend.

"damn it y/n, stop stealing my lines!" can i be your boyfriend?

"is that a no?" just say yes. i want to hear you say yes.

"n- no, yes. i mean no, it's not a no. and yes, i want to be your boyfriend." how could i ever say no?

copyright © 2020 rouiyan all rights reserved.

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Thursday, January 7th

song: drivers license-olivia rodrigo

chapter fourteen: i didn't have it in myself to go with grace

It had been a song written purely out of desperation to make sense of everything.

When Eren, Mikasa, and Armin had ended their friendship and cut off contact with another, Mikasa had been an absolute wreck.

She had no idea what to do, what she had done wrong.

So she turned to music.

Music would make everything better.

Music could make her sane.

The lyrics had been written first.

Every insecurity from high school to now came out in the lyrics. She couldn’t compose music. She didn’t have the first idea where to start. Eren had always helped with the music. She had been so frustrated. Why did every aspect of her life make her cry for him? Why did it push her deeper into depression.

“I compose music,” Historia offered.

So they went to the sun room and went to work.

It was from that moment that the band was born.

But there was one condition from Historia.

“I won’t sing this song. This is yours. If you ever want to hear it, you’ll sing and I’ll play keyboard.”

It was that song that Mikasa played on her keyboard after everyone else had left the sun room to go do their separate things.

Levi recognized it.

How could he not after the many times he had heard it?

He knew it was her way to cope. It was the song she always returned to and played for comfort.

Mikasa pretended not to see him in the doorway but once she stopped playing, he spoke.

“You need to play that for Eren,” Levi told her.

She turned her keyboard off, “I can’t. We’re trying to fix things.”

“You need to play it.”

“I can’t! It hurts too much. I...Historia won’t sing it.”

“Good, she doesn’t need to. You do. Stop being a coward,” Levi scoffed.

“I’m not!”

“You are. You’re acting like an angsty teen. Until he knows what he did, the actual severity of it, you’re never going to get past this. It’ll eat away at you until you do.”

Mikasa looked down at her keyboard and then back up at Levi. She knew he wasn’t doing this out of malice. She knew it wasn’t to hurt her. Mikasa knew Levi was saying this because at the end of the day, he was her parental figure. He didn’t want to see her in pain anymore.

Maybe that ache in her wasn’t just for Eren.

Maybe that ache was for Eren to understand how he had made her feel.

Eren had been open and honest with her, but had she done the same?

She sighed.

Levi smirked.

“I’m not saying you’re right if that’s what you’re waiting on,” Mikasa muttered.

He walked over and ruffled her hair, making it messy.

“Ah! Stop it!” Mikasa pleaded.

Sawney and Bean rushed into the sun room, happy barking filling the room.

They ran around all the instruments before they launched themselves at Mikasa, landing in her lap.

They barked again before licking her face.

“Alright, brat. Take them for a walk,” Levi walked out of the sun room.

“Fine,” Mikasa said before putting both corgis down on the floor.

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

For small puppies, Sawney and Bean were incredibly strong. Mikasa easily kept pace with them but she was still impressed with their strength.. Once they returned to the house, she released them from their leashes and they ran off to track down Levi.

Sasha, Annie, and Historia were in the living room this time.

“Did the bride just punch that lady in the mouth?” Historia asked.

“Yep, that’s bad form though. She probably broke her thumb,” Annie added.

“Sasha, what did you put on tv this time?” Mikasa asked after she took her shoes off.

“Some wedding show. I just flipped through channels and it came up,” Sasha shrugged.

Her friends had the absolutely worst taste in tv shows.

Mikasa sat down between Sasha and Annie.

“Is that an ambulance?” Mikasa asked.

“I told you she was going to break her thumb,” Annie answered.

“Why did she even punch her?” Sasha asked.

“I think we missed that part,” Historia answered.

So they kept watching and commenting on the ridiculous show. They never did find out why the bride punched the other woman. The next show was about stories from the ER so they ended up watching that too.

This was the same routine they fell into at the house. Someone would find something random on tv and they would watch it together. Sometimes, they had contests to see who could find the worst possible thing to watch. The more horrible the acting was, the more likely the person who found it was likely to win.

“So the icicle just fell and stabbed him?” Levi asked as he entered the room.

Historia got out of his chair. The girls all scrunched together on the couch so Historia could sit with them. They really didn’t mind.

“The ER doctor doesn’t think so. She thinks there’s more going on,” Sasha informed Levi as she turned the volume up slightly.

“Wouldn’t it go through this head if it fell off the roof?” Historia asked.

“You would think. I don’t buy it. He clearly pissed someone off and they were going to kill him. I mean if the murder weapons melts, how can they blame you?” Sasha said with a shrug.

“We have been watching too much true crime,” Annie chimed in.

“Oh! Here’s the next patient. That guy fractured what?” Sasha asked.

“It’s a penile fracture. Now, quiet, I’m trying to hear,” Annie replied.

“Can you fracture that?” Historia asked.

“Apparently,” Mikasa answered.

“How?” Historia asked.

All four girls turned towards Levi.

He sighed, “normally, it’s from a strong blow.”

This caused all four girls to start laughing uncontrollably.

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed again as he shook his head.

Armin, Eren, and Ymir came down a few hours later to join the rest of the group for dinner.

Mikasa had told Eren she had a song that she wanted to share with him.

Levi smirked once he heard this and it took all of Mikasa’s control not to throw something at him.

She led Eren to the sun room once dinner was over.

“What song is she playing for him?” Ymir asked as she washed dishes.

The first few piano chords started.

“No way! She’s not….” Historia was in shock.

“She is. How many times have we heard this song?” Annie asked.

The other four girls exited the kitchen, running towards the sunroom.

Armin looked over at Levi, “did I miss something?”

“Mikasa is playing a song she wrote right after her and Eren broke up.”

“Is it that big of a deal?”

“Go listen to it,” Levi said simply.

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

Mikasa led Eren to the sunroom. She sat down in front of the keyboard, Eren sat down in one of the chairs.

“I wrote this song right after we broke up. It just kind of summed up everything I was feeling at the time. I….uhh...I pulled from a few events before we broke up too. I don’t know how to put this into words but I thought this might help you understand my feelings too.”

Eren nodded.

“Okay,” Mikasa said before taking a deep breath.

Her fingers dance across the keys.

Each note brought a memory or feeling back to her.

“{lyrics redacted}.”

Mikasa had not taken her driver’s test when she was sixteen. She didn’t take it until she was eighteen. She had been so afraid to drive after the car accident. Eren had been the one to teach her drive.

“ {lyrics redacted}. ”

Mikasa had still had to run errands for Levi when she was living here before she moved to the city.

Eren’s house was a mere three blocks away, making it impossible not to pass sometimes.

“ {lyrics redacted}.”

A random blonde girl who seemed to be Zeke’s friend kept appearing in Eren’s Instagram pictures before he deleted his social media. It had been very heartbreaking for Mikasa to see Eren with someone else. She assumed he had found someone older, better than her and that was why he had left her. It killed her how he seemed to have moved on so quickly.

“ {lyrics redacted} ”

Eren had seemed fine to her. She knew now that wasn’t the case. It only made things worse.

“ {lyrics redacted} ”

Mikasa hadn’t been the only one writing songs about their relationship. Eren had written songs about her. She could remember him playing them for her. Whether it was here in Levi’s house or back in Eren’s old bedroom, it didn’t matter. She had felt like they were a private concert for her. They had meant so much to her and then Eren had taken that all away from her.

“ {lyrics redacted} .”

The kick drum kicked in. She heard Annie’s guitar and Ymir’s bass. The spot next to her was taken by Historia who placed her hands on Mikasa’s, signaling Mikasa to hand over the keyboard playing to Historia. Mikasa removed her hands, allowing Historia to play. She sang the chorus again.

The bridge came faster than Mikasa thought it would.

“ {lyrics redacted} .”

Ymir walked over and leaned on Mikasa, still sitting on the piano bench. Mikasa knew it was a way for Ymir to show her support.

“ {lyrics redacted} . ”

She couldn’t stand to be in this town anymore after her and Eren had broken up. When Historia had offered a way out, Mikasa had taken the chance.

Mikasa repeated the chorus again.

The rest of the instruments fade out except for the keyboard.

“ {lyrics redacted} t ,” Mikasa sang the last line, finally making eye contact with Eren.

He had tears in his eyes.

“Wow,” he said after Historia finished playing the last few notes of the song.

Clapping came from the doorway. Mikasa looked over to see Levi and Armin standing there.

“Alright, maybe you two should go talk in Mikasa’s room and we’ll all go pretend we’re not here,” Historia suggested. She gave Mikasa’s hand a squeeze.

“Sure,” Eren answered.

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

Mikasa closed the door behind her. Eren had already sat down on her bed. She sat down, careful to leave enough space for another person between them. She didn’t look over at him. She only stared straight ahead.

She wasn’t sure how he was feeling. He hadn’t said anything besides wow.

What did that even mean?

Was it because it was good?

Was it because it was bad and he hated it?

The silence continued.

Neither of them was ready to speak .

So they just sat there.

Awkwardly.

Mikasa was glad she had a digital clock because if she had heard the ticking right now, she might have gone insane.

“I wrote a song about you after the break up too,” Eren said, finally breaking the silence.

“Is it any good?” Mikasa asked as she finally looked over at him.

“Maybe I’ll play it for you one day.”

“Did...did you have another girlfriend or something after we broke up?” Mikasa asked.

Eren stared at her, “no.”

“Oh.”

Silence again. Mikasa looked straight ahead again.

“There was this blonde girl I kept seeing with you on Instagram….before you deleted everything. She looked a lot older than us, blonde. She seemed to be Zeke's friend but I don't know."

Eren started laughing hysterically.

“It’s not funny!” Mikasa shouted.

“You’re jealous of Yelena!” He laughed louder.

“I don’t know who that is!”

Eren laughed for a bit longer before composing himself.

“She’s Zeke’s ex girlfriend,” he finally said.

“Zeke had a girlfriend?”

“Shocking, I know. It didn’t last long. She wanted kids and a wedding. Zeke didn’t want that at the time. She kept pushing it, he was worried she only wanted him for his money. Then they broke up. It turned out that that was exactly what she wanted. She wanted Zeke because of his mom’s family. Whatever that means. I haven’t talked or even thought about her in months.”

“Oh.”

How stupid Mikasa had been.

“We’re even now,” Eren said with a smirk as he scooted closer to her. “You got jealous of Yelena, I got jealous of Jean. So we’re even.”

She looked over at him again.

“That was a perfect song. You should be more confident in your work,” Eren said before he stretched.

“I am. That song is just very personal.”

“All the best ones are,” he replied simply. He lied down on her bed. “I’m glad you shared it with me. I am sorry.”

“I know,” she said before giving him a weak smile.

He patted the bed next to him.

Mikasa sighed before she lied down next to him.

Eren yawned before he reached out and touched Mikasa’s face.

His thumb traced the scar on her cheek that had been left by the car accident. A single finger moved down to her lips, tracing them.

Mikasa held her breath. His trailed down her arm, then to her wrist. He began to trace the tattoo identical to the one her mother had had when she was alive.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?” She asked, her eyes met hers again.

“For giving me another chance even after I made you feel that way. And for sharing that song with me. I know it couldn’t have been easy." His finger continued to trace her tattoo.

“You’re welcome,” she muttered as she looked over at him. If she just leaned a little closer, she would be able to kiss him.

“I can’t hear anything,” a muffled voice from the other side of the wall said.

“That’s Sasha, isn’t it?” Eren asked as he stopped tracing her tattoo.

“It’s probably all of them,” Mikasa said as she sat up.

“Do you spy on them this much?” Eren asked as he also sat up.

“Sometimes,” she said with a shrug.

“So I shouldn’t suggest that I look up barn animal noises while you jump on the bed to make them regret spying on us?” Eren smirked.

“No, we should do that. Sync your phone to the tv or whatever. It has a better sound system to make it louder.”

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

“You’re such a softie,” Hange said on the other end of Levi’s phone.

“I am not,” he replied as he went into his bedroom. Sawney and Bean followed him in.

“Yes, you are. You’re helping Eren. You helped Mikasa. You love those kids. Nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose, “they asked me what a penile fracture was today.”

Hange could not contain their laughter on the other end of the phone.

“It’s not that funny!” Levi yelled as he shut the door behind him.

“Why do I miss all the fun stuff?” Hange asked. “So what did you tell them?”

“That it comes from a strong blow,” Levi muttered.

Hange’s laughter got louder.

“You teach biology! Why are you laughing?”

“Because it’s funny.”

Levi pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I hear you thinking all the way over here.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like you being all the way there,” he muttered.

“Aww...does Levi miss me already?” They teased him.

“No, now I take it back. Stay there with your weird sea creatures. By the way, did Molbit get them all there?”

“He did! They’re all perfectly fine from their vacation! Although I think the spider crab is plotting to kill me.”

“Not the octopus?”

“Oh no, the octopus definitely wants to kill me and everyone else.”

“I told you not to get it.”

“It’s very beneficial for my students!”

“Whatever you say,” he said as he sat down on the bed.

“How are the kids otherwise?”

“Well, Armin seems to be taking the news well. You remember that song Mikasa used to play all the time? She played for Eren today.”

“Oh! The really sad one? How did that go?”

“They were jumping on her bed and playing barnyard animal sounds.”

“So good?”

“I guess. These kids are weird.”

“And that’s why they’re ours.”

“Whatever you say, four eyes.”

“You know what short stuff, I’m going to show up and put everything on a high shelf that you can’t reach.”

Levi scoffed, “I’ll just get one of the kids to get it down.”

“You always ruin my fun.”

[timextoxhajima]

hihi! i was scrolling through your blog to read your fics and look at your other posts when i came across that ask where an anon did an analysis of your fic hostis. i’m just asking out of genuine curiosity (i hope this doesn’t come across offensive in any way but this has baffled me for quite some time!!), but how exactly should readers interact with fanfics?

probably every other month i’ll see a post by different writers about the lack of interaction from readers which really frustrates them (which i understand!) and they usually say that it doesn’t take that long to like, reblog, give a comment etc. i’m more of the passive type so i will like the fic post or share them with friends who like the same groups to read. i don’t usually comment, but i see people who do leave comments and hype up other writers who are their mutuals/friends. these comments are always positive and encouraging, but do writers ever want constructive criticism like what that anon commented? i mean it’s not like school or uni where you submit work to be marked, but when writers ask for interaction do they only want the positive, hype-me-up kind of comment? sometimes when i read a fic and i think “oh, maybe it could’ve been better if they developed this a bit more” or “it feels like it’s lacking a bit” or something like that, i just move on from it and read other fics. but for these writers who want interaction from their readers, would they actually want readers to voice out thoughts like this?

sorry for the long post ahaha i’ve just been wondering about this for a long long time and reading that anon’s detailed analysis and breakdown about what they thought could be improved really got me thinking about this as a long time fic reader. thank you ^^

HIHI no worries abt it being offensive or whatsoever!! You brought up quite a few points in this so bear with me yeah?

How should readers interact with fics?

Firstly, i'd like to put out a disclaimer that some writers might not agree with. The fact that writers post their work on an online platform accessible to everybody means that it will always be open to criticism, whether they like it or not. No, i'm not saying that it's okay to be rude or trash someone's work, i'm saying it in the context that readers will always be allowed to provide feedback/reactions. If you put a product out on a shelf for sale, you can't stop a customer from complaining about it if they purchase it and, in their opinion, finds it defective or inadequate.

You cannot stop a reader from having opinions.

It's the same for movies, music, choreography.

Secondly, however the reader wants to react (be it passive or active) is completely up to you! Personally, as long as i know someone's following my work, even if it's just 1 person, i'll be happy. My work isn't FAMOUS per se and it's just an outlet for me to vent or relax. Of course there'll be writers who want people to provide constructive feedback, and that's fine. Writers who actually want the constructive feedback WILL take it, i promise you. It will stick, even if they don't act on it, and if they agree with it, they will change according to the feedback. After i got that super long analysis from hostis, i started breaking up my sentences, especially in grounded. I started making sure my sentences were shorter, easier to understand. Might not have been 100% what the anon told me to improve on, but it stuck. For me, i write in school and it's being graded. Thus, writing here is in fact, a platform for me to practise. So of course, (though i admit i get salty sometimes when people tell me otherwise) i try to improve whenever people tell me there is something for me to improve on. It's normal human nature to feel angry or upset when people give CONSTRUCTIVE feedback bec sometimes it does feel like it's going against you.

Writers who want to improve will always appreciate constructive feedback, even if they feel salty or dissatisfied with it.

Of course, sometimes constructive feedback comes in the idea of questions. Whenever i write, i ask myself like- why does this character act like this or why did this happen- in case a reader has questions about maybe something lacking etc. (Also honestly because sometimes fanfiction is meant to cater to only the main characters, and side characters just aren't needed to be fully developed.)

Sometimes, the writers have their reasons for not developing a certain part of the story, a character, or simply- they didn't think about it, and that's fine. That's where they get to think about it too.

I always thought it was fun to discuss a story's plot with the writer, same way some people are super into trivia or like, backstories. It's like bonus features when you watch a director's cut of a film or like an easter egg, which you'll only realise when the director/writer himself shares it with you.

A writer will always be more than happy to discuss their story with you, whether or not the points of discussion are similar or different.

Keeping in mind, writers on this platform come from different countries, this means different styles of learning. Styles of writing differs from person to person. V, who wrote 17.5 of hostis, is also singaporean but her writing style is more poetic than mine. The anon who gave me that super long feedback on my writing with longass sentences and expression errors is a law student (who, i assume are more accustomed to writing short, accurate, and MUST BE grammatically correct sentences). Which is totally fine!

What you may perceive from reading a sentence may be different from what someone else perceives. When i write, i NEED to see the scenes in my head first because i'm a more visual person and i do videography and film production in school, so if i dont see it, i can't write it. sometimes it backfires and i end up stuffing like 2894 details into 1 sentence, killing the grammar and expression, which is what that anon pointed out to me.

Perception varies, so learn to understand that what the writer writes could be because they simply have trouble expressing what they see/visualise.

And that's fine. Nobody is ever perfect with writing, nobody's gna ever develop all their characters well enough to the readers' liking. If a story had 8 characters and each character had a fan, BUT the plot is meant to only focus on 3, then you cannot expect the writer to develop the other 5 just because their fans want them too. It's just not plausible, especially if the plot revolves around the 3.

Wow this was super long, i hope this gave you some valuable insight as to how a reader can interact with a writer. There's definitely no harm as to giving the writer feedback, even if its bad! Phrase it nicely of course - trashing the writer's work definitely isn't going to do anybody good. Writer's probably gna hate the reader while she/he feels shitty abt themselves and the reader doesn't gain anything in return.

THANK YOU for bothering to send this in!!! I absolutely LOVED talking about this because ive always thought that readers just wanted some fanfiction to read but now youve proven me wrong and i definitely do believe some readers look much deeper into a plot or a piece of work than just smut and fluff.

🥺💕 thanks loveee

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans II- Chris Evans AU Chapter Four

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, heartbreak, angst, a little bit of infidelity (it doesn’t get that far but if this triggering to you, kindly don’t read.) A little bit of Jealousy. 

Disclaimers: I don’t condone relationships of this kind, this is for entertainment purposes only.

Word Count: 2,552 words

Read Chapter Three here!!

A/n: Sry for the delay, guys!! There are some things going on in my school that I’ll post about later. Happy reading : )

***

(Gif isn’t mine!! I don’t even- how can one human being be so fucking beautiful? I’m-)

The car ride to the mall was rigid. 

You spent it looking out the window, earbuds secured on, music loud. You started fiddling with your fingers and trying your damn hardest to block out Cassidy leaning over every two seconds to kiss Chris. 

It was Cassidy’s car and the smell of perfume was almost overwhelming. She was obnoxiously neat, not a single crumb in between the cushions of her leather seats. 

Sighing, you turn the volume up. I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys thrums strongly in your ears and you try to let Alex Turner’s voice distract you from the secret smiles Chris and Cassidy share every five seconds. 

You press your forehead against the cold car window, lips pursing. 

You didn’t think this would be so hard to bear through. You knew you weren’t entirely over him, but you hadn’t expected it to hurt this much to see him with another woman. 

Such bullshit. 

You just wish you could-

Ring. 

Ring. 

Ring. 

You've abruptly tugged away from your thoughts as your phone rings loudly from your short pocket.

Quickly glancing up, you notice Cassidy is looking at you and Chris’ eyes peer at you from the rearview mirror.  

“Sorry.” You look away, tugging your phone out, unplugging your earbuds, and answering without looking at who was calling you.

“Hello?”

“Babe?” 

You freeze, biting your lips hard. “Daniel?” 

You practically feel when Chris’ gaze snaps towards you and you only bite your lip harder. 

“Babe!” You hold back the urge to cringe at how loud he is. 

“Hey baby,” you mumble back softly, happy to hear his voice despite everything. 

 “How are you? How’s dad? How’s everything?” His questions bombard you, one after the other.

You can’t help but snort. “Dad?”

“Yeah...I can call him that right?” You can almost see him shrugging shyly in that Daniel manner. 

You ponder on it for a while, accidentally catching Chris’ eye. You don’t know why, but you hold his gaze as you answer your boyfriend. 

“Yeah sure. He’ll be your dad too, soon enough.” 

Oh, God. As soon as you say it, you regret it. Chris clenches his jaw and looks away instantly. You keep looking at him though, trying to decipher what that meant. 

“Are you implying what I think you’re implying?” He replies cheekily. 

You laugh, jesting back. “I don’t know. Am I?” 

“God, I hope you are,” he breathes. 

You can’t help it when you blush. “Really?”

He sighs. “Hey I know we’ve had our rough patches, but I love you Y/n. So much.”

You know he’s referring to your fight and because you just know him so well you also know that this is his way of apologizing to you. 

You smile softly. “And I love you.”

He laughs lightly, relieved. “Good.”

“Also, everything’s fine. I’m actually headed to buy a dress for the wedding right now.” 

He clicks his tongue. “I wish I could be there to see you.”

You smirk to yourself. “Do you, now?”

You don’t notice when you near the mall, too lost in your conversation with Daniel and how utterly satisfying Chris’ squirming was. 

“Yes I do,” his voice turns sultry. “Red looks so fucking good on you.” 

You giggle at his throaty groan. “Red it is then.”

He groans harder. “Jesus, Y/n.” 

You laugh even more. “Don’t worry babe I’ll send you pic-”

“We’re here.” Chris’ voice roughly cuts through your phonecall. You look up at him. 

He looks utterly irritated as he taps his foot impatiently, jaw ticking as his eyes sear through you. 

“Cassidy’s already inside,” he mumbles roughly, clearly holding back the urge to growl.

“Hey baby,” you talk into the phone, never breaking eye contact with Chris. “I’ve gotta go. Call you tonight.”

He exhales sharply. “Send me pictures.”

You know Chris heard when his jaw clenches impossibly more and his nostrils flare. Another surge of satisfaction rushes through you and you bite your lip- like you can’t help but do so. 

“I’ll facetime you while I’m in bed. Love you.”

And then you crawl out of the car, brushing past a very annoyed Chris. 

Oh. This was gonna be fun. 

*

“Holy crap, this is so gorgeous, right babe?!” Cassidy holds up a long green dress for him to see. It was strapless and backless with intricate sequin work in the front. 

A bit too much for you, but probably gorgeous on Cassidy who you were sure could pull a sack of potatoes off.

He hums distractedly from behind you. “Mhm, it’s nice.”

You’d decided to go into town to the only mall for hours and Cassidy had suggested you go into a cute little boutique that dealt mostly with party dresses.

You flick through the dresses, not seeing anything eye-catching whatsoever. There were some red dresses but they were either too big or too simple. 

“I’m gonna go try it on,” she squeals, seemingly unaware of her boyfriend’s disinterest in her dress as she heads into a dressing room in the far end of the boutique. 

You move on down, brow furrowed as you look deeper into the racks.

Almost twenty minutes pass and you still haven’t found anything. You’re about to throw the towel when-

“Try this one,” his voice is deep as he holds a blood-red dress in front of you. What the hell?

You peer up at him, shocked. “Where’d you find it?”

“Just try it on,” he murmurs, firmly pushing it into your arms. You blink at him once before nodding slowly, making your way to the dressing room nearest to you. 

Reluctantly, you peel your clothes off and tug on the red dress. Resolving not to think about what any of that meant, you pull the zipper up as far as you can. 

“Shit,” you curse loudly, bending your elbow further. 

“What happened?” he calls from outside the dressing room. 

You frown. “I can’t zip up the dress. Could you maybe get an employee to- what the shit?” you screech as he suddenly pulls the door open and steps into the tiny dressing room with you, closing it behind him.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hiss lowly, your heart already starting to race. 

He sighs, gaze meeting yours in the mirror. A tingle travels through your spine and you swallow thickly. 

“I’m zipping your dress, sweetheart,” he replies as if it’s obvious, hands already reaching out for you. 

“What? No!” You shriek incredulously, spinning around and backing away from his touch. 

He purses his lips, his demeanor all too calm. “It’s not a big deal. Really.” 

You scoff, face growing red with vexation. “Your girlfriend is only a few feet away. You can’t just come in here after we almost-”

“After we almost what?” He cuts you off briskly, stepping closer in the already-cramped dressing room. He tilts his head to the side- mocking you in a cynical way, you think. 

Your breath immediately hitches at his sudden shift in demeanor and you bite your lip lightly, watching him cautiously.

He continues, pretty blue eyes suddenly ablaze. “After we almost kissed yesterday? Is that it?”

Your face grows impossibly warmer and you don’t know if you’re pissed or embarrassed or both because he knew exactly what you meant and because the memory of that moment was almost too much to bear.

“Don’t. Don’t go there, Chris,” you warn almost too quietly to be anything other than a breathless beseech. 

He doesn’t seem to care though, and you honestly can tell if you hate or love it as he steps even closer to you, crowding you against the mirror. His gaze flickers to your lips and you can feel your stomach clench in sinful anticipation. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You’re powerless to him and he knows it, dammit. 

You look at him with desperation and he hopes he knows it’s the kind of desperation which is begging him not to do something both of you would lament later on. Something you’d feel guilty for but absolutely wouldn’t refuse because even as you beg him with your eyes not to kiss you, you ache for nothing more than to feel the warmth of his soft mouth on yours and the inquisitive yet desperate touch of his hands on your skin once again. 

 You need to stop this. Right now. Even if you don’t want to. Even if you can’t--you’ll have to be able to because neither of your partners deserved this. 

You’re stronger than this, Y/n, you think, readying a million things to say to him right now in your mind. 

A firm ‘stop’ or even ‘leave right now’ would be enough. A fire builds deep in your belly as you open your mouth to stop his arrogant ass right this instant. But a split-second before you’re about to speak, you make the grave mistake of looking into his eyes...and your resolve immediately dissolves. 

He looks so lost. So confused and vulnerable and conflicted. Like he doesn’t know what to do with all these emotions and your heart clenches in that way that you hated because you knew what it meant. It meant that your brain was losing all rationale and becoming a jumbled mess and you wouldn’t be in control anymore.

Your mouth snaps shut as he speaks, voice quiet. “I would’ve kissed you.”

At his shocking confession, you swallow audibly, your stupid pathetic foolish heart fluttering. 

“I would’ve kissed you”. So simple yet so effective in making you a puddle of emotions and conflict.

“I would’ve kissed you too,” you mutter to your insides, not having the courage to utter it out loud.

You shake your head, knowing you’re about to lie but needing to put some space between you and this situation. It was too much. “But I wouldn’t have kissed you back.”

A flicker of hurt flashes on his face before he instantly smirks, all traces of emotional vulnerability masterfully masked with sarcastic arrogance.  

He looks you directly in the eyes, face tilting just the tiniest bit so that it looked like he was gonna kiss you.  

Your heart immediately speeds up and your hands get sweaty as you tried not to think about how fucking addictive his kisses were and how much you missed them.

He peers up at you through his eyelashes with the damn sexiest look anyone’s ever given you and you swear to God if you don’t get him out right now you would give in and fuck him right here right now. 

“Really Y/n? Because I think,” as he continues speaking, his hand casually rises, the pads of his fingers barely brushing over your cheekbone as he gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. 

You try to fight it off, you really do, but despite your every mental command, you instinctively tremble and lean into his hand, lips parting the slightest bit as your heart clenches with the sweetest pain. 

You wanted more of him. God, it hurt just how much you wanted all of him all the fucking time.

His dumb, arrogant smirk widens instantly with satisfaction and you grow angry. More with yourself than with him, truthfully. “...that if I hadn’t stopped, you  would’ve given yourself to me right there on that kitchen counter, sweeheart.” 

You freeze at his words, your distress very quickly morphing into anger. As your entire body flushed with humiliation, you fisted your hands, clenching them so hard your nails bit into the skin of your palms. 

Just who the hell did he think he was, saying shit like that? 

You cared not for the sharp fleeting pain as you glared up at him. “Shut up.”

“No,” he instantly responds, face suddenly turning serious. “I won’t shut up. You felt it too, you can’t deny it. What we’ve always felt-- it came back but stronger this time, right?” He looks into your eyes for confirmation even though you both knew that he didn’t need it.

You grow more and more anxious as he speaks because the accuracy is scary and because you hate yourself for it being that way.

“I felt nothing.” You look away, shrugging him off. 

He clenches his jaw. “So what? You’re just going to ignore this?”

You huff, looking up at him again. “There is nothing to ignore.”

He laughs out a scoff. “Yeah, you keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”

You force your face to harden, stone-cold even though you felt like dying on the inside. “Let me make this very clear so that there are no future mishaps; there is nothing here, Chris.” You step up to him, pressing yourself to him challengingly. “And there never will be, so just stop and go back to your girlfriend.”

He doesn’t even flinch and his eyes make you feel so infuriatingly naked. He smiles dryly. 

“See, the thing is, the more you say that the less I believe you.”

Yeah, and the more he talks the more you feel like slapping him. And even as you refrain from doing so, the want to inflict pain on him grows and grows.

You wanted him to hurt. You wanted him to be in so much pain you-

You smile with sickly sweetness, tilting your head sideways. “See, the thing is, that I don’t really give a shit.” You need to put space between you desperately, so you step back a bit pressing against the cool mirror again.

“Leave, Chris. We’re not doing this,” you grit out through clenched teeth, barely restraining yourself from slapping him silly.

His jaw muscles tense and tick as you stare eachother down for a few more seconds, neither willing to back down. 

He finally yields, stiff expression melting into a nonchalant grin as he takes a few steps back. 

“You can lie to everyone else and yourself all you want miss Y/l/n, but at the end of the day, we both know we’re an inevitable disaster. We always have been and we always will be.”

He pauses just before leaving, glancing at you over his shoulder. “And uh- by the way, that dress? It’s the one.”

And then he walks out, leaving you a breathless, emotionally conflicted mess. 

*

You insist on walking home after the dresses are paid for. Cassidy ends up going for a different dress which looks, of course, frustratingly beautiful on her. 

“Are you sure?” she mumbles, gripping Chris’ hand. You avoid each other's gazes as much as possible.

You smile a bit sadly. “Pretty sure, but thanks for today.”

Not waiting for a response, you walk away.

*

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him, you chanted over and over again in your head. I hate him so fucking much.

You throw your bags onto the bed, unable to hold back a frustrated scream from escaping you. 

Thank god no one is home because if they heard the commotion in your room, they’d be asking too many questions.

How dare he? How dare he go into that dressing room and say stuff like that? That you were inevitable? That there was nothing either of you could do to stop this from happening? With exactly what right did he go in there and make you feel so fucking powerless?  

You know what? Fuck him. Fuck him and Cassidy and their pathetic little relationship. 

You weren’t that dumb, weak, pathetic little girl you used to be and he had no control over you. 

For some reason, you think saying it to yourself will somehow make it true. 

Feeling yourself flush with determination, you change into more comfortable clothes-- Daniel’s the 1975 t-shirt which fit you a bit tighter than Mr. Evans’ but was still a little too big on you and a pair of fuzzy socks. You pull your hair into a messy bun, uncaring of anything but this insatiable want to let off some steam steadily building inside you. 

You head downstairs and turn on the radio, grabbing a bottle of liquor from your father’s cabinet. 

You smirk to yourself as you open the bottle and take a swig. 

Just like good ol’ times.

Read Chapter Five Here!!

***

OOOH you already know what’s coming up, guys!!   Who’s ready for the most angsty fluffy read of their lives?

A Special Thanks to:

@star-spangled-steve​

@tomoyaevaans

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@tomshelbystits​ 

@kind-sober-fullydressed​

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And My forevers!

@jessikared97​

@ladyofletters67​

@lilypalmer1987​

@sammykb1994​

@tomshelbystits​ 

[justacouplebandfics]

We’ve got scars on our future hearts (Jalex) - Chapter 1

Description: Alex dealt with self harm when he was younger, that's over now though- he's better, until he's not. Struggling with the idea of self harming as an adult Alex keeps the issue to himself, but living on a tour bus with your band there's only so long you can keep something a secret.

Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of self harm

It’s also available here on Wattpad, and you can find the masterlist here. 

Disclaimer: All self harm is valid self harm, all notions of 'real' self harm discussed in this fic come from a place of internal struggle.

Alex's POV

I flopped down on my bunk, exhausted from tonight's show- it was amazing, the crowd, the lights, I never get tired of it- looking out to the sea of smiling fans I'm always reminded how lucky I am to have made it like this. I couldn't ask for better band mates, the tour is going incredibly well, which is why it's just so hard to comprehend why I feel so down sometimes. It feels so selfish. There are people who have genuine problems who get up every day and get on with it and I'm sat here miserable for no good reason.

Pulling the curtain to my bunk closed I reach up to the little shelf and grab my sunglasses pouch, opening it and reaching into the little back pocket I sit and look at the small collection of blades. There's a couple I jimmied out of a pencil sharpener years ago and a new box cutter blade I brought the other week, I let out a tense breath as I pick it up and set it down on the duvet in front of me.

I struggled with self harm when I was younger, honestly I'm pretty sure with how the world is nowadays you'd be hard pushed to find someone that didn't at least think about it at that age. By younger I mean high school, your so-called glory days, even though it's only the privilege few who seem to get to actually enjoy it. It was never anything terrible- cat scratches really, yeah my thighs are absolutely riddled with scars but I can't remember ever cutting myself in a way that was any kind of impressive.

It got better after high school, All Time Low kicked off and I didn't even think about it for a while, kind of just forgot it was ever a thing- every now and then things got a bit too stressful and I'd return to it but I'd knock it off within a few days. I'm an adult, this isn't the way adults deal with their problems, it felt embarrassing to do it, childish.

I don't even remember what brought it back this time- I was alone on the bus one evening, a rare occurrence, and I just did it. I wasn't even particularly sad or angry, the urge just came out of nowhere and overwhelmed my mind. I never got rid of the blades from high school, they sat unused in an old sunglasses pouch for some glasses I hadn't picked up since high school either, so it was just too easy to go back to my bunk and slice up my thighs. I know I should have thrown them out, or not brought them with me, but a little part of my brain kept telling me at some point I'll relapse again and need them, and I guess it was right.

It wasn't anything awful that time either, three shallow cuts at the top of my thigh, on the clean scar-free skin I hadn't touched in my high school days. The clean up process was so familiar it was almost comforting, wiping up the blood, sticking on a bandage, pulling up my skinny jeans trying not to let them drag against it. I sat back down in the front lounge all too aware of the pain on my right thigh as Jack and Rian walked in, all smiles from meeting some fans. I plastered on a smile too and pretended everything was fine.

After blankly staring at the blade in front of my for what feels like forever I let out another tense breath and pick it up, pressing the sharp corner into the pad of my thumb, trying to find a reason for wanting to do this tonight. I can hear the guys' voices faintly from the front lounge, laughing about something; I think to myself for a moment that I could just put this away, I could go out there and laugh and have fun, I don't have to do this, but almost immediately the overwhelming urges drown those thoughts out.

I feel like I'm running on autopilot as I slip the blade into the back of my phone case, get out of my bunk and grab my towel from where it's hanging. Walking towards the front of the bus I crack open the door to the lounge, peeking my head around "Hey guys, I'm gonna hop in the shower real quick- was anyone waiting?" With only one shower on the bus and some venues not having any in the green room you can very quickly find yourself 5 deep in a queue to get clean after a show. My brain might be overrun with urges to slice my thighs open at the moment but I'm not about to be a queue-jumping asshole.

"Nah, you're all good" Jack pipes up from the couch, giving me a toothy grin that makes my stomach twist up. It's not that I feel guilty about them being sad or worried if they find out, it's the sheer embarrassment of it- this is something I did when I was younger and didn't know any better, it's not something you're meant to do as an adult. I can just imagine the looks of judgement if they ever saw, the mocking pity, I just couldn't do it.

After some sounds of agreement from the other guys, way more interested in whatever movie was on than who was in the shower, I shut the door and pick out a pair of joggers from my wardrobe as I head to the bathroom. Locking the door behind me I reach into the shower and turn it on, facing the shower head towards the wall. After shimmying out of my skinny jeans I put the toilet lid down and take a seat, pulling the blade out from the back of my phone case, balancing it on my thigh.

I bite at my bottom lip as I try to conjure up a reason for doing this again, coming up completely blank. My mind just feels like static at the moment and this is the only way I know how to stop it.

Fuck this is so stupid.

I pick up the blade and press the corner into my thigh, just below the ones from yesterday, slowly dragging it across my skin. The familiar pin prick pain lights up my thigh as I see little beads of blood start to form. Grabbing some toilet paper I wipe it away, repositioning my blade at the start of the cut again and going in for another swipe. I carry on like that for a little while- swipe, bleed, wipe, until there are 4 cuts, definitely not deep enough for any kind of medical attention, but deep enough to gape a bit.

I sit and admire them for a moment, I'm almost proud- the cuts now are so much deeper than they were in high school, they feel more like real self harm, but they still aren't deep enough. I press a clean piece of tissue to them to soak up the blood while I clean off the blade, drying it and slipping it back into my phone case. I pick up the paper and take another look, now the blood is wiped up I can see the 4 white lines, the gaping showing off the exposed dermis clearly.

Standing up I pick up all the bloodied tissues and throw them into the toilet, checking to see if I accidentally got any blood anywhere in the bathroom. Satisfied all the evidence of my sins is in the toilet bowl I step into the shower, mentally bracing myself for the stinging sensation that will come when I turn the shower head onto myself.

I stand under the stream for a while, having already showered earlier I don't feel the need to wash myself again, just wiping away any of the already dried blood on my thigh. I let the slightly-too-hot water burn my back as I press my forehead against the cool shower door, the shame starting to set in. At least my head feels clearer now, calmer.

I step out and dry off, grabbing the medical kit stashed under the sink and securing a bandage over the new cuts- trying to avoid placing the tape over the assortment of scabs already present. Throwing on the joggers and the t-shirt I came in with I flush the toilet and head back out to my bunk, making sure the curtain is shut firmly behind me before transferring the blade back to its rightful place.

I make my way to the front lounge, sitting myself down next to Jack who's sprawled out over one of the couches. Matt and Zack are sat on the floor, eyes glued to the TV, and Rian's taking up the other couch, half dozing off as he tries to follow the movie. I don't recognise it, and I don't bother to ask either, it looks like it's a fair way in and I hate being the person who keeps interrupting the movie to ask people to explain what's happening.

Instead I look to Jack, flashing him a quick smile which he promptly returns before turning back to the TV.

---

I'm not sure when I dozed off but it must've been a while ago because when I open my eyes it's just me and Jack in the lounge, and the TV has been switched off.

"Hey, sorry I didn't want to wake you, you looked so tired" I hear Jack say from above me- it's only now that I realise I've been lying with my head on his shoulder. Not that that matters, we've been best friends for years, we're ridiculously comfortable around each other.

I sit upright and shift to face him, leaning my elbow on the back of the couch, still a bit groggy "When did the others head to bed?" I ask.

"I dunno, maybe an hour ago?"

"Hmm," I hum, blinking away the fog of sleep and looking around.

"So two showers tonight, huh?" Jack asks, still looking down at his phone, mindlessly scrolling through twitter. I try to sus what he's getting at, my mind instantly jumping to 'he knows', I must have taken too long to respond because he looks away from his phone for a minute and gives me a slightly puzzled look "Lex?"

"Oh, yeah! Sweaty one, small venues are so nostalgic but damn do they get hot" I finally get out, playing off the delayed response as plain grogginess, laughing a bit. Jack chuckles and goes back to scrolling, I'd hoped nobody would've noticed I took two showers- I was one of the first back on the bus so I hopped in first right after the show, despite Jack's goofiness though he can be pretty observant sometimes. I push the question out of my mind as I stand up and stretch.

"I'm gonna head to bed, I'll catch you tomorrow" I say to Jack as I start walking towards the door.

"Night Lex" Jack calls back.

"Night Jack" I reply, shutting the door behind me and slipping into my bunk.

[blue-eyes-and-auburn-hairr]

Second Chances Chp. 3

Disclaimer: Okay, I got more notes than I thought I ever would, so while the world is quarantined...I wrote another part.

Warning: Mention of death, fluff, I don’t want to mislead anyone this will very much be a slowburn 

Summary: Can you imagine being widowed at such a young age to a man you thought you’d have forever with? On the anniversary of his death, on top of a mountain, you and Chris begin your new journey together.

Staring up at the sky, watching the lantern follow a path across the stars while taking a piece of me with it. People say it gets easier, but that really has not been the case. Each morning I wake up and my mind slowly drifts to memories that I try and keep locked away and each night the nightmares and terrors of the aftermath play like a reel. I don’t fight them though, I think when they finally stop, it will hurt more. My therapist obviously disagrees with me and we have been working on this but, I am just not ready. My ability to compartmentalize is scary and unhealthy but its been working for the last three years. It is harder to keep the emotions in check on days when you feel like you are being smothered. The phone calls, the text, the Facebook posts and tags from both our family and friends. All of that is sweet and supportive and great, but too much. Another reason I like coming out here and sitting on our mountain looking out at the world. 

I slowly turn around and watch as Chris is still watching the lantern on its journey, he makes eye contact and I force a half-smile. I see Dodger with his head down whimpering a bit, unaware of the circumstances but very much cued in to the emotions that surround him. 

He returns the smile but it does not reach his eyes.  

“Afghanistan, three years ago today,” I shrug not wanting to go any deeper, that’s enough of my past for one day. “That’s a story for another time preferable over some beers and a few shots,” another joke to cut the thick fog that surrounds us. Chris makes a move to reassure me, obviously feeling helpless at this moment. Dodger quickly gets up and sits down between Chris and I. He is facing Chris, watching his movements as though ready to defend me. I rub the top of his head letting him know that I am okay and so is the situation. “I’m okay boy, your pops was just trying to help,” I continue to stroke his head and then look up at Chris’ dumbstruck facial expression. “I...I have never seen him do something like that” he softly mumbled to himself and continues to look at me now with almost an expression of awestruck. 

“That was beautiful, genuinely beautiful, is there anything else you need to do?” I gently shake my head not making eye contact the mixture of gratitude and shame is swirling. I feel the tears and thickness in my throat return and shake that off as well.  

“We should start to head back then, it’s going to get dark and Dodger is such a baby in the dark,” He chuckles rolling his eyes. 

It was only about a fifteen-minute walk back to the car, but he was right, the twilight sky would only last for so long. Packing up my bag and making sure that I had everything, I met the boys at the start of the trail. 

“I am sorry if your hike took an unexpected turn,” I shyly shrug my shoulders “I feel like I owe you a beer or at least a meal to make up for that, I am usually not this grim of a person” I state trying to convince him and myself. 

“Not a chance,” he says while reaching down to pull the twig out of Dodger’s mouth. 

“I get it and I am sure you have to be up early tomorrow for your presentation and all,” I try not to sound as defeated as I feel. 

“I meant, no chance that you owe me anything. It’s absolutely my treat, do you know of any good places around here?” I tried to read his face, looking for pity, but all I could see was compassion. 

“There’s a nice pub a few miles away, small and simple,” trying to accommodate for him I also mention that there is patio seating that should fit Dodger’s fancy. 

We reach our cars at the same time that Chris announces that he is sold on the idea and says that he will follow me. The emotions of all of this finally set in when I sat in my car. I had not felt anxious or nervous throughout our entire time together until the moment I was away from him. I pushed all of that, for the most part, away and tried to drive perfectly towards the pub. Chris turned in the parking lot after me and got out and put the lease on Dodger again. I finally saw my reflection for the first time in hours and cleaned up the tears stains that still traced my skin. 

“I am not gonna lie, I honestly thought you were gonna keep driving when I pulled in here” I finally announce when I make my way over to his truck. 

“Well now I am wounded Thea, wounded,” he states while dramatically placing his hands over his chest. 

“It’ll buff out, I’m sure,” I say while bumping his shoulder and heading towards the door, I can hear him chuckling behind me. 

I head inside and ask the bartender if there was room on the patio for us to sit and order some food and drinks. She says, of course, hands me two menus and says someone would meet us outside shortly. 

I meet Chris back outside and he’s already made himself and Dodger comfy at a table. As I head over he gets up and pulls out the chair for me, which I know people roll their eyes at but I get a case of the butterflies every single time. 

After some time an older woman makes her way over to us to take our order, Chris takes my suggestion on the burger and laughs when I get carded for ordering a beer.  I roll my eyes and feel the blush creep across my cheeks. I dish it right back though and ask him when was the last time he even got carded, the squinting glare answered that question. The tension and awkwardness left and we slipped into casual conversation. 

I think we talked for 2 hours straight. 

We talked about everything and anything, it was so pure and real. My stomach started to hurt 45 minutes in from laughing so hard. “God, can you imagine growing up an only child or growing up differently than you did?” Chris asked me at one point, he was telling a story about his brother and neighbor daring him to jump from a roof onto a trampoline into a pool. He was proud to announce that he completely chicken out and thinks about how his life might be a little different if he followed through with it. 

“My brother and sisters probably used to pray to be only children growing up, but I honestly couldn’t imagine it any other way. I never take for granted how close-knit we are and I continue to be thankful.” He continued to smile at me and stare at my face, which was sweet but also a bit concerning. 

I whip at my face trying to see if I had something on it and ask him, “What? Do I have ketchup on my cheek or something?” He responds by rolling his eyes for the 39th time in the last few hours. 

“Roll your eyes at me again! I dare you!” He scuffs and goes to roll his eyes again but stops halfway and just starts laughing. 

“I just, I don’t want this to sound weird and freak you out.” He starts to rambles and it was cute but my god he was going to drive me crazy if he kept it up. I reach across the table and give his hand a squeeze in a comforting way. 

“I just, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life” he looks down at his phone “when in reality it’s only been four hours. I know that sounds crazy because I don’t even know what you do for a living, but I feel like I already know ‘who you are’ if that makes any bit of sense. I am just having a tough time believing you are real.”

It absolutely did. It made complete sense and it scared me, but it also gave me another case of butterflies.

“I’m a teacher.” I took the easy way out not toughing the other topic just yet. 

How does Chris respond? He rolled his god damn eyes again. With a retort of “Of course you are, why wouldn’t you be a teacher.” 

“That’s it, Dodger, come here and take your human away from me!” I shout at the sweet boy just trying to take a nap. “Dodger that is the 40th time he has rolled his eyes at me, you need to take him home and teach him some manners please!” I huff sitting back into my chair and watching Chris explode with laughter. 

“You are absolutely insane, I don’t think I have laughed this hard, for this long, in months. I am going to have a set of abs by the time this night is through.” Now it was my turn to roll my eyes at him. 

“So what do you teach?” He finally asked me after his waves of laughter have turned into small chuckles. 

“I am a middle school special education teacher” I state proudly. I truly love and respect what I do for a living and wouldn’t change it for the world. 

Chris is just defeated by this point and just places his head in his hands shaking it back and forth.  “You are really not helping prove that you are actually real” he mumbles into his hands. 

“Says the famous actor I met while hiking a mountain and inviting me to dinner, I left the realm of reality hours ago” I smirk back at him when he finally pulls his face out of his hands. 

The waitress walks over and asks if we need anything else. Chris holds up one finger to me seeing if I’m game for another round. “One more round please and two more glasses of water,” I ask while smirking at Chris. “Ohh also, can we get, I don’t know, maybe a to-go box of some sort that we can put some water in for the pup?” She nods and walks off while jotting it down in her little pad. She returns a few minutes later with all the check and drinks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to twist your arm or anything,” he says while leaning over and scratching Dodger’s head. 

“Not at all, I just, unfortunately, have to drive home after this,” I say while shaking my head. “I normally cannot wait for this day to end, but today...meeting Dodger and I guess you..,” I smirk trying to make light of a tough sentence to put into words, “It really helped.”

“Well, I am just glad we found you.” 

“Me too,” I say giving his hand one more squeeze before we get up and make our way to the cars. 

Leaving the shot of Jameson sitting on the table, untouched, but always present, unquestioned but simply knowing.

I’ve never tagged anyone in a post before so let’s see if I get this right :)  @chi00072 @capstopavenger​ 

[river1983]

Journey

Hello guys! Back at it again with another aziracrow fic.

This is supposed to be the journey Crowley and Aziraphale had through the years of their friendship but tweaked a little so it shows more romanticism. A lot of the things described are my headcanons/ideas, and some of the historical events were not apart of the show and stuff I added in. Most of my added pieces probably aren’t historically accurate, though I tried, so I apologize in advance lol. Some of the speech lines have been cut out also. A lot of this is just what I saw and inferred as I watched and in no way actually canon. I hope you like it! :)

You can also think of this as being narrated by God or someone, but also as just a thing I dunno.

Credit Disclaimer: Some of the scenes and lines are from the TV show Good Omens. I DO NOT own Good Omens, it belongs to Neil Gaimen and Terry Pratchett. 

--

journey - an act of traveling from one place to another.

--

Starting six thousand years ago, in the beginning, an angel and a demon met in the Garden of Eden at the beginning of everything. The demon had just finished his job, and though he wouldn’t explicitly admit it, he didn’t agree with the punishment that ensued to the only two humans on the face of the Earth. The angel didn’t either, and rebelled slightly by giving the humans aid. The demon and the angel stood side by side as the first storm rained down on them, and the angel offered his wing to the demon, who gladly welcomed it.

This was only the beginning.

--

A thousand years later in Mesopotamia, they met again as Noah and two of every animal (minus the unicorn...it got away) boarded the Ark to escape the oncoming raging storm that would wipe out the human race. The angel, named Aziraphale, explained the Almighty's plan to the demon, doubt creeping into his mind with every word he said.

“All of them?” The demon asked incredulously. Heaven? Kill all of Creation? That sounds more like Hell.

“Well, not all of them,” The angel responded. “Noah, up there, his wife, sons, and their wives will live.”

“And they’re going to drown everybody else?” 

The angel nodded hesitantly. Of course, it was wrong, of course. But what was he to do about it?

“You mustn't judge the Almighty, Crawley,” The angel said. “God’s plans are--”

“Are you going to say ineffable?” Crawley asked with a huff. 

“...Possibly.”

Rain fell down on the two, signifying the start of the wipe out the human race. The demon looked up like he couldn’t believe this was happening, and the angel looked down, ashamed.

--

“Come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?”

In Golgotha, 33 AD., the angel and the demon found themselves together again.

“Smirk? Me?”

“Well, your lot put him on there,” The demon, now named Crowley, spat.

The demon had met him, Jesus. He felt...bad, for the man--for his fate. Showed him all the kingdoms of the world. 

Aziraphale winced as the nail was hammered deeper and deeper into Jesus’ wrist. Guilt seeped into his angelic bones, despite knowing he was not consulted. 

Jesus was pulled upright as he wailed in agony, the angel and the demon together watching on.

--

Eight years later the pair met again on accident, presumably, in Rome. 

The angel spotted the demon at ‘the bar’ and moved to sit next to him.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Still a demon then?”

“What type of question is that? Still a demon, what else am I supposed to be an aardvark?” Crowley retaliated, irritated. He took a sip of his house brown.

“Salutaria.” They clinked glasses.

The angel cleared his throat. “In Rome long?”

“Just popped in for a quick temptation. You?”

“I thought I’d try Petronius’ new restaurant. I hear he does remarkable things to oysters.”

Crowley sipped his drink again. “I’ve never had an oyster.”

Aziraphale looked at the demon incredulously. “Oh, well let me tempt you to--”

The demon turned around with a smirk, looking at the angel. 

“Oh,” The angel muttered, realizing his mistake. “No, that’s your job isn’t it?”

Crowley smiled and sipped his drink again, falling just a little more for the angel.

--

Rome was falling.

It was 79 AD as the demon covered his face onslaught of soot fell on the ruins of Pompeii. He wasn’t even supposed to still be there, but one quick temptation turned into a more complicated matter.

But nothing that was happening now was his doing. He ran through the ruins as fire erupted in shop and homes. People running in all directions as they tried to escape the city.

Crowley ran through the ruins, trying not to get discorporated, when he bumped into a little girl who was crying. Kneeling down, the demon grabbed the little girl without thought and continued to look for an exit. As he passed a shop, he saw a sliver of white hair and turned around.

“Aziraphale?” He said incredulously as he walked into the shop, trying not to inhale the smoke with the little girl in his arms.

“Crowley,” He looked at the little girl then back at Crowley.

“What the Hel--Heaven’s are you doing!?”

“I was looking for some old scrolls--”

“The city is on fire and you’re looking for scrolls?”

They ducked as another boom shook the ground.

“Aziraphale, we have to go now or you’ll be discorporated!”

“What does that matter to yo--”

“No time! I have to get this girl to safety, come on!”

He tugged Aziraphale along and searched for a way out of the falling city. Soot covered them head to toe as they emerged from the city as volcanic ash continued to fall, coughing from the thick smoke that hung in the air. They got as far from the city as they could before Crowley set the girl down. 

“Try and find your family, alright? Don’t go near the city.”

The little girl nodded and ran off, leaving the angel and the demon alone.

Aziraphale stared at Crowley. “Why’d you save her?”

Crowley snorted as he settled himself on the ground. “What was I supposed to do, just leave her there?”

“Well, you are a demon.”

Crowley scoffed. “You know that wasn’t my doing, right? I didn’t set that volcano to explode.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley. “I know.”

As the demon watched the city fall, the angel couldn’t help but stare at the demon in curiosity. A demon showing empathy and compassion? It was different.

He could get used to it.

--

In the Kingdom of Wessex in 537 AD., the demon and the angel were doing their respective jobs, fomenting peace and causing trouble, without knowing of the other’s presence.

“I was hoping to meet with the Black Knight?”

Aziraphale (of the Table Round) walked forward as the Black Knight emerged from the smoke.

“You have sought the Black Knight, foolish one,” The Black Knight responded. “But you have found your death.”

Aziraphale squinted and tilted his head. “Is that you under there Crawley?”

“Crowley,” Crowley responded, pulling up his helmet, revealing his yellow, piercing snake eyes.

“What the hell are you playing at?” Aziraphale said in exasperation.

“I’m here spreading foment.”

“What is that, some kind of porridge?”

“No. I’m, you know, fomenting dissent and discord.”

“Well, I’m meant to be fomenting peace.”

“So we’re both working very hard in a damp place just canceling each other out?”

“Well, when you put it like that...it is a bit damp.”

“Be easier if we both just stayed home.”

Aziraphale looked at the demon, confused.

“Just send messages back to head office, saying we’ve done everything they asked for, wouldn’t it?”

“But that would be lying,” Aziraphale exclaimed.

Crowley looked to the side and shrugged. “Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same.”

“But,” Aziraphale protested. “my dear fellow, they’d check!” His face hardened slightly. “You don’t want Gabriel to get upset with you.”

“Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance on Earth.”

“No! Absolutely not. We’re not having this conversation, not another word.” Aziraphale turned around, going back to the knights behind him.

“Right,” The demon muttered as he closed his helmet.”

“Right!”

--

It was right in the middle of the 14th century, in 1347 as the Black Death raged across Europe, Crowley and Aziraphale are together again.

“I hate the 14th century,” Crowley growled as he paced the room he was in. “The humans are all at war with each other, disease is wiping out half the population, there’s nothing to do.” 

Aziraphale sighed. He had been hearing Crowley rant about this century for 20 years now. “Isn’t this supposed to be good for you? You can lie to your head office about all the wondrous work you are doing, possibly get that promotion.”

Crowley groaned.

“Can you do me a favor?” Crowley asked as he collapsed on the chair.

“What would it be?”

“What if you...” Crowley started. “Did both the tempting and the blessing?”

Aziraphale whipped around. “You can’t be serious!?”

Crowley shrugged. “The end result would be the same. There’s no point in both of us being here since we just cancel each other out.”

Aziraphale said nothing.

“It saves time,” Crowley added.

“But if Hell or Heaven found out--”

“No one has to know, Aziraphale.”

The angel sighed. “Fine, I agree to this...arrangement. But only this once, Crowley.”

The demon smirked. “Sure, angel.” He walked out the door.

The angel blushed at the nickname and watched Crowley as he left, sighing in defeat.

That was the beginning of the Arrangement.

--

At the Globe Theatre in London, 1601, the angel and the demon met again.

As Burbage performed Shakespeare’s Hamlet on the stage (with very few watching), Aziraphale watched with a smile on his face as Crowley stood next to him, smirking at the angel.

“He’s very good, isn’t he?”

“Age does not wither nor custom stale his infinite variety,” Crowley responds, profoundly.

Shakespeare looks at Crowley strangely. “Yeah, I like that,” he says, slowing walking off to write it down somewhere. 

As Shakespeare walked away, Aziraphale piped up. 

“What do you want?”

“Why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly want something?”

“You are up to no good.”

“Obviously. You are up to good, I take it?”

“No rest for the...well, good,” Aziraphale responded. He turned toward the demon. “I have to be in Edinburgh by the end of the week. A couple of miracles to perform.”

He made a face. “Apparently I have to ride a horse.”

Crowley grimaces. “Oh, hard on the buttocks, horses. A major design flaw if you ask me.”

Crowley walks around to the other side. “I’m meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week,” He says. It was slightly too convenient, heading to the same place as Aziraphale.

“I thought we should...” He trails off, looking at the angel expectedly.

“You cannot actually be suggesting...” Aziraphale started, trailing off. “What I infer...you are implying.”

“Which is?” Crowley teased.

“That only one of us goes to Edinburgh, do both.”

“We’ve done it before,” Crowley says, looking back at the stage. “Dozens of times now.”

He leaned towards the angel. “The arrangement--” He sing-songed before Aziraphale cut him off.

“Don’t say that!” He whispered, more afraid of Heaven than of the demon next to him.

“Our respective head offices don’t actually care how things get done,” Crowley retorts.

“But if Hell finds out, they won’t just be angry,” Aziraphale protests, voice softening with worry for the demon. “They’ll destroy you.”

“No one has to know,” Crowley reassured, pulling out a coin. “Toss you for Edinburgh?”

Aziraphale sighs but gives in. “Fine, heads.”

Crowley flips the coin, both of them leaning in to look. “Tails, I’m afraid. You’re going to Scotland.” Aziraphale sighed, turning back to the stage.

“-it’d take a miracle for anyone to come and see Hamlet,” the pair hear Shakespeare complain, shaking his head.

Aziraphale turned toward the demon, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yes, alright, I’ll do that one, my treat,” Crowley said, falsely exasperated.

“Oh, really?” Aziraphale says with a smile.

“I still prefer the funny ones,” Crowley says as he walks out.

Aziraphale turns toward the stage again with a smile on his face, popping another grape into his mouth. The angel won’t admit it, but he was starting to warm up to the demon.

And the demon would never admit he was already far gone on the angel.

--

Aziraphale sat in a cell, hands chained to the wall in Paris, 1793. He sighed as he looked at his confined hands. All he wanted were some crepes, for Heaven’s sake. 

A man walked into the cell, speaking to him in French. Probably something about cutting his head off in about five minutes...His French was a little off.

After a bad attempt at responding to the man in French, the man revealed himself as Jean-Claude (in English), his personal executor.

“You are lucky that it is I, Jean-Claude, who will remove your traitorous head from your shoulders!”

“Look, this is all a terrible mistake. I don’t think you understand--”

“I have some good news for you. You are the 999th aristo to die at the guillotine by my hand! But the first English.”

The angel smiled curtly and nodded, beginning to regret dressing the way he did, and found himself wishing Crowley was here.

“Now--” Jean-Clause moved to remove his scarf.

Aziraphale stood up quickly, stepping toward the wall. “Please! No!” He said. “Dreadful mistake, discorporating me,” He blew air out of his mouth and rolled his eyes. “Ugh, it’ll be a complete nightmare,”

Jean-Claude looked at the angel, confused about his sudden outburst. The sound of the guillotine blade filled the cell again and the executor turned toward the window, then time froze.

“Animals,” Aziraphale muttered.

“Animals don’t kill each other with clever machines, angel. Only humans do that,” A familiar voice said behind him.

Aziraphale’s whole face and mood lit up (without his permission). “Crowley,” He said with relief as he turned around.

The demon sat on a rock in the corner, dressed in “appropriate” attire at the time, due to where they were. Aziraphale looked him over, appalled. “Oh, good Lord,” He said, setting his shoulders a little straighter.

“What in the deuce are you doing locked up in the Bastille? I thought you were opening a bookshop,” The demon says incredulously, propping his arm on the wall next to him as he stared at the angel through his glasses.

“I was,” He nodded. “...I got peckish.”

“Peckish?’“ Crowley inquired, leaning forward a bit.

“Well if you must know it was the crepes,” Aziraphale admitted, moving to sit down in his chair, still chained. “You can only find decent ones in Paris. And the brioche,” He said with a tilt of his head.

“So you just popped around the Channel during a revolution because you wanted something to nibble? Dressed like that?”

“I have standards.” Aziraphale defended.

Crowley smirked slightly, amused by the angel’s stubbornness, even if it almost got him killed.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and Aziraphale’s chains fell to the ground. the angel rubbed his wrists, looking back at the demon.

“I suppose I should thank you. For the, uh, rescue.”

Crowley got up from his seat, walking over to the angel. “Don’t say that. If my people hear that I rescued an angel  I’ll be the one in trouble. And they don’t give strongly worded notes.”

“Well anyway, I am very grateful,” the angel said, looking at the demon in the eye. “What if I buy you lunch?”

The demon raised an eyebrow. “Looking like that?”

Aziraphale glared at the angel in annoyance, before huffing and snapping his fingers, changing his attire so it was similar to Jean-Claude’s.

The angel stepped over to the demon and stood next to him as Crowley snapped his fingers once more, changing Jean-Claude’s attire so it looked like he was the aristocrat, and the guards pulled him away while Crowley and Aziraphale watched undetected.

“So what’s for lunch?” Crowley said to the angel, turning to face him.

“How would you feel about some crepes?” Aziraphale responded with a smile.

--

The angel and the demon stood by a pond in St. James’ Park in 1862, Aziraphale throwing bread into the pond for the ducks while Crowley just stood, preparing to ask a question.

“Look, I’ve been thinking, what of it all goes wrong?” Crowley started, still staring out across the pond. “We have a lot on common, you and me.”

“I don’t know. We both may have started off as angels, but you are fallen,” Aziraphale responded someone terse. He had found himself becoming too attached to the demon, and by any circumstances, he simply couldn’t.

“I didn’t really fall,” Crowley argued, slightly hurt by Aziraphale’s comment. “I just, you know...sauntered vaguely downward.”

He cleared his throat. “I need a favor.”

Aziraphale threw the last of his breadcrumbs and put his hat back on. “We already have an agreement, Crowley.”

“This is something different,” Crowley handed him a slip of paper. “I wrote it down. Walls have ears. I mean, trees have ears. Ducks have ears.”

Aziraphale opened the paper and his eyes widened as he read the words. 

“Do ducks have ears? They must do, it’s how they hear other ducks.”

“Absolutely out of the question!” Aziraphale retorted, appalled. How could the demon even ask him of this?

“Why not?”

“It would destroy you!” Aziraphale whispered, worry dripping through his voice. “I’m not bringing you a suicide pill, Crowley!” He shoved the slip back into the demo’s hand, angry that he would even suggest such a thing.

“Not what I want it for, just insurance,” Crowley insisted, handing him back the paper, which had the words Holy Water scrawled over it.

Aziraphale’s distant façade dropped. “I’m not an idiot, Crowley,” He almost pleaded. “Do you know what trouble I’d be in if...” He looked up at the sky, then quieting his voice. “They knew I’ve been fraternizing!?”

Crowley turned toward the angel, finally. “Fraternizing?” He spat. He thought they were past this--seeing each other as the enemy.

“Or whatever you wish to call it,” Aziraphale responded, his anger and hurt still seeping through. “I do not see any point in discussing it further.”

“I have lots of other people to fraternize with, angel,” Crowley retorted, when in fact, he did not.

“Of course you do.”

“I don’t need you,” When in fact, he did.

“Well, the feeling’s mutual, obviously!” Aziraphale said, whipping around and storming away, throwing the slip of paper in the pond where it caught on fire.

Crowley turned back to the pond. That conversation did not go as planned.

“Obviously,” Crowley mocked, hiding his hurt.

--

As Aziraphale negotiated with Nazi’s in London, 1941, he couldn’t get Crowley out of his mind. He hadn’t seen the demon in a little over a century. They had left on...less than ideal terms, and despite how much Aziraphale tried not to, he missed the demon. It was unlike Crowley not to pop up somewhere, and the angel worried that he might not see the demon ever again. He didn’t--couldn’t regret saying no to giving Crowley holy water, whether it was for insurance or not. The chance was too great.

Mr. Golzier pulled a gun after Aziraphale put his beloved books down. 

“Such a pity you must be eliminated, but take heart,” he said, cocking the gun. “Just another death in the Blitz.”

“That’s not very sporting,” Aziraphale said.

Golzier cocked his head. “You don’t appear worried, my friend.”

A woman appeared behind him, cocking her gun, just like Aziraphale planned.

”He is not worried,” she said.

“Who’s she?” Mr. Harmony said, standing up.

“She, my double-dealing Nazi acquaintance, is the reason why none of those books are going back to Berlin! And why your nasty little spy ring will be spending the rest of the war behind bars!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “Let me introduce you to Captain Rose Montgomery of British Military Intelligence.”

“Thank you for the introduction,” Captain Rose said calmly.

“So, Rose, where exactly are your people?”

Harmony let his hands fall. “We are all here,” He laughed.

Golzier walked towards the Captain. “Allow me to introduce Fraulien Greta Klienschmidt. She works for us.”

She pointed the gun at the angel, who stepped back, mouth gaped.

“Now, where were we? Oh yes, killing you.”

“You can’t kill me!” Aziraphale exclaimed. “There’ll be paperwork.”

A door slammed. All four turned their heads to the sound.

In comes no one other than Crowley, hopping around on the consecrated ground they were standing on, making sounds of discomfort.

Aziraphale had never been so glad and furious to see the demon.

“Sorry, consecrated ground,” Crowley gasped, still hopping around. “Oh! It’s like being at the beach in bare feet!”

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale exclaimed. I’m so glad to see you.

“Stopping you from getting into trouble,” He retorted.

Azirpahale rolled his eyes. “I should have known. These are your people.”

The demon leaned on a pue. “No! They’re a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies running around killing people, I just didn’t want to see you getting embarrassed. Gah!” He hopped around some more.

“Mr. Anthony J. Crowley,” Golzier says. “Your fame precedes you.”

“Anthony?” Aziraphale asks.

“You don’t like it?” Crowley responded, ignoring Nazi.

“No, no, I didn’t say that,” Aziraphale said quickly. “I’ll get used to it.”

“In about a minute,” Crowley said suddenly. “a German bomber will release a bomb that will land right here.” He pointed to the ground they were standing on (well, he was hopping on). “If you all run away very, very fast, you might not die. You won’t enjoy dying, and definitely won’t enjoy what comes after.”

“You expect us to believe that?” Golzier scoffs. “The bombs tonight will fall on the East End.”

“Yes. It would take a last-minute demonic intervention to throw them off course, yes.”

Aziraphale looked toward the demon, realizing his plan.

“You’re all wasting your valuable running away time!” Crowley exclaimed. “And! If, in thirty seconds a bomb did land here, it would take a real miracle for my friend and I to survive it.” He looked toward Aziraphale with his shaded eyes.

“A real miracle?” Aziraphale stammered. Oh, right.

“Kill them,” Harmony said. “They are very irritating.”

On cue, Crowley pointed his fingers up at the roof and the sound of a whistling bomb sounded. All three Nazi's looked up toward the sound in disbelief.

Then the bomb landed.

Aziraphale and Crowley stood unharmed in the rubble, the demon cleaning his glasses and the angel taking off his hat.

“That was very kind of you,” The angel said, in slight disbelief. After that entire argument they had a century ago, he was surprised the demon would come to his aid, that he even knew where Aziraphale was. 

Crowley pulled his glasses over his yellow snake eyes. “Shut up.” He said jokingly, hiding his smile.

“Well, it was. No paperwork, for a start.” Aziraphale smiled.

“Oh, the books! Oh, I forgot all the books! Oh, they’ll be blown to--”

Crowley walked over to Harmony’s dead body, buried underneath the rubble. he wrenched the bag of books from his dead hand and handed it to the angel. “A little demonic miracle of my own.” He said. “Lift home?”

He walked away, and Aziraphale stared at his back in disbelief. He couldn’t believe Crowley had remembered his beloved books when Aziraphale didn’t.

That was the moment the angel realized the inevitable. 

He was in love with a demon.

--

While Crowley negotiated plans to steal holy water in Soho, 1967, he wondered about Aziraphale.

There was something about the angel that Crowley couldn't pin that drew the demon in, as much as he hated it. He had feelings for Aziraphale, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. He wasn’t supposed to feel, not after the Fall. Especially not for an angel. 

He walked over to his car after an interesting conversation with Shadwell, collapsing into the driver’s seat. He looked to his left and saw Aziraphale sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“What are you doing here?” Crowley asked incredulously. I was just thinking about you.

“I needed a word with you,” Aziraphale responded. 

“What?”

“I work in Soho, I hear things.” He paused. “I hear that you’re setting up a...caper to rob a church.”

Crowley sighed and turned his head forward.

“Crowley, it’s too dangerous,” Aziraphale pleaded. “Holy water won’t just destroy your body, it’ll destroy you completely.”

“You told me what you think one hundred and eight years ago,” Crowley said, turning back to the angel.

“And I haven’t changed my mind,” Aziraphale interrupted. “But I can’t have you risking your life.” You mean too much to me.

“So...” Aziraphale pulled out a beige flask. Crowley’s eyebrows raised slightly as he looked at the flask. “You can call off the robbery.” The angel held the flask gingerly, as if it might break and the water would spill out, vaporizing the demon forever. He shuddered at the thought.

Crowley looked at the angel in surprised, then back at the flask. He took the flask gingerly, holding it out in front of him.

I’m not planning to use it on myself, angel. He wanted to say. But he didn’t.

“After everything you said?” He said instead, the century left not talking that they both regretted brought up without speaking of it.

Aziraphale nodded.

Crowley looked at the flask again in disbelief. “Should I say thank you?” He said after a while, looking back at the angel.

“Better not,” Aziraphale said, smiling softly.

“Well can I drop you off anywhere?” Please let me say thank you.

“No, thank you.”

Crowley’s face fell.

“Oh, don’t look so disappointed.” Please. “Perhaps one day we could...go for a picnic,” Aziraphale smiled at the thought. “Dine at the Ritz.” He smiled at the demon.

“I’ll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go,” Crowley insisted. I love you.

Aziraphale was quiet or a time. Then he sighed. “You go to fast for me, Crowley,” He said sadly, like it hurt his very Grace to say that.

Crowley’s demonic heart broke, despite deep down knowing Aziraphale’s answer.

The angel left the car, walking away.

Crowley stared at the flask in his had once again, and set it down. He sighed, then started the car.

--

In the End Times, as Satan manifested on Earth and the Anti-Christ went against the Great Plan and stopped the Apocolypse. The angel and the demon clasped hands, and three words passed between them without being spoken.

I love you.

The Anti-Christ willed the Devil out of existence, leaving the Earth untouched just for a little while longer.

--

So, now, all of the angel and the demon’s interactions have led up to this moment, after preventing the Apocalypse by the sheer force of will, and defying their respective head offices just by being together, they sat at the Ritz, a glass of champagne in each of their hands.

“I think none of this would’ve worked out if you weren’t at heart, just a little bit a good person,” Aziraphale said.

“And if you weren’t, deep down, just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing,” Crowley said with a smile.

Aziraphale gushed, looking down at the table then back at the demon. 

“Cheers,” Crowley said, raising his glass toward the angel. “To the world.”

Aziraphale raised his glass, smiling. “To the world.”

They clinked glasses.

--

The journey of an angel who fell in love with a demon, despite what he had been taught, and a demon who fell in love with an angel, despite thinking he couldn’t even feel after the Fall, had ended, but was only the start of the beginning of the rest of their lives, together despite all odds.

They sat, fingers entwined, chatting at the Ritz while a Nightingale sang for the first time in Berkeley Square.

--

Finally! I’m done with this fic! It took forever because of the scenes, and I’m sorry about that! I’m really proud of how it came out! I hope you guys like it :)

-river

[megaweapon]

aight TIME TO GO TO VENOM school let me tell YOU about The Hunger

The Hunger is a miniseries that ran in 1996, which sets it well after the “Lethal Protector” miniseries that detailed Eddie Brock’s final transformation to antihero. At this point, he’s not just an antagonist gunning for Peter Parker’s blood: he’s already helped save new York from Carnage, already helped save the citizens of the hidden sunken portion of San Francisco, and already gone throught the events of the Separation Anxiety miniseries. 

He’s promised not to kill Spider-Man, and he’s essentially a good guy (he’d later go on to join the Sinister Six but that’s a whole other story), but he’s feeling a little conflicted at this point.

Posting this primarily because @thatsmetal55 wanted some more context on some images she found, so I offered to take her to Venom School. Under the cut, Class 1 is in session. FULL DISCLAIMER: I was only slightly drunk when I wrote this.

So, we open up with poor Eddie in a pretty rough state. The comic itself is drawn with a lot of geigeresque flair, which is usually deployed as a sort of scene embellishment or as a means of showcasing the “nightmare world”--the world as Eddie sees it. 

Also, bonus points for the Meat Loaf lyrics up in there. Nice. The visual team for this series consists of Ted Halsted (pencils), Scott Koblish (inks), and Tom Smith (colors.) If nothing else there’s a lot of visual distinctiveness in this series that’s worth pointing out! Also props to Ken Lopez for the letters. This was 1996, after all.

So Eddie’s tooling around San Francisco, sort of barely holding to together, and he goes to see a movie. Here we get the beginning of just how close Eddie and the symbiote are meant to be in this series.

This... is a love story.

Their tender moment is interrupted by some punks, who pick a fight. Of course, this prompts a transformation into Venom, and after he’s done mopping the floor with them, Venom has a Little Moment that hints at the first sign of a deeper problem lurking in the gestalt psyche of Eddie and the Symbiote:

“Carried away” doesn’t quite cover it.

So, he runs off, a little spooked by his own actions. We see Eddie, some time later, settle down to try and eat, but regular food disgusts him, for reasons he doesn’t understand.

And we get this face, which is great, obviously. 

So shortly after that, Venom ends up in a barfight, and his opponents, in their own words, “play for keeps.” So he’s fighting for his life., already riled up and hungry, and sometime in the middle of it...

This happens. That can’t be good.

That’s definitely not soup, Venom.

I feel like that image speaks for itself.

So once he comes to his senses, Venom is horrified with himself.

While he flees, the symbiote informs Eddie that something is definitely wrong with it. In its own way, it explains that it’s suffering from some kind of intense craving, one which Eddie compares to a vitamin deficiency. He doesn’t fully understand, but he’s repulsed by the symbiote’s desire for more brains. 

Is... is that so, Eddie?

 Also, here’s the first example of the symbiote drawn in the geigeresque fashion that that the artists seem to love, but it’s not at all the last. So, Eddie won’t capitulate and the symbiote is driven to near-madness by its hunger. It violently tears itself away from him and goes off on its own, leaving us with our final image of issue #1:

Eddie, naked and alone in an alleyway. 

Issue #2 picks up with Eddie in custody, raving about the symbiote. He has a telepathic connection to it, even now, and is desperate to keep it from hurting anyone else. Of course, nobody takes him very seriously...

The Nosferatu-looking dude is the villain of this series, and he’s so fucking over the top and ridiculous. I love it. He’s the very definition of a 90s tryhard villain, except not the macho type. Anyway, I particularly like Eddie reminding them that the symbiote isn’t just a suit--it’s an alien, it’s a species all its own that’s evolved along a different path. That’s something I always particularly liked about Venom: the union of two discrete, sapient individuals. I digress.

This entire issue is interspersed with “visions” that Eddie has of the symbiote stalking people and killing them to devour their brains.

The symbiote also initially only targets people that either directly threaten it, or are engaged in some morally abhorrent behavior. For instance: this dude was in the process of beating up a prostitute, and in doing so, put his brain on the menu.

Seems all right to me.

So, as you can see, Nosferatu Dude (whose name is Thaddeus Paine, I am not making this up), takes Eddie to the sanitarium he mentions in the panel above. Predictably, his time there involves a whole lot of unpleasantness. Dr. Paine mistreats his patients horribly. He’s basically a mad scientist. Eddie doesn’t really cooperate, after which Dr. Paine informs Eddie that he’s only here to further the cause of science. 

Also for no damn reason he has freaky robot hands.

This is never addressed or explained.

We then receive a monologue of Dr. Paine’s over several panels of torture. He concludes that Eddie’s suffering from an organic brain syndrome (sounds silly, but it’s a real thing, actually) and that, specifically, he’s suffering from a terrible deficiency of the chemical phenethylamine, which is found in brains.Our puzzle pieces are coming together...

He also notices some changes to Eddie’s physiology on the cellular level, small tweaks that have been made to his body by the presence of the symbiote. In addition, there are several traces of exotic “fatigue poisons” (again, a real thing) in his bloodstream, ones that seem to be from an extraterrestrial source. So, Dr. Paine knows Eddie’s suffering from a strange deficiency, and that some otherworldly thing has been very intimately involved with his body.

This is the basic conceit of The Hunger: Eddie and the symbiote both suffer because of a stumbling block that crops up because they’re ultimately two aliens working together for a union neither of them was really designed for. I really love this idea, and the thought of exploring the details of this kinds of symbiosis, the good and the bad. If nothing else, the core idea at the heart of this comic was a pretty cool one, in my opinion.

Dr. Paine starts taking Eddie’s more outlandish claims seriously. We get another vision of the symbiote’s rampage, and this time innocents are getting caught in the crossfire. Eddie, ever more determined to break free... breaks free! And runs off in pursuit of his other. Of course, because this is an edgy mid-90s comic, that’s exactly what Dr. Paine wanted.

So, issue #2 ends with Eddie absolutely determined to stop the symbiote’s rampage, and Dr. Paine watching eagerly to see how it all unfolds. More in Part 2!

[oniusagimaru]

[Kresnikcest Fanfiction] - Unknown Territory

Title: Unknown Territory Pairings: Julius/Ludger Author: Oniusagimaru Rating:  T Chapter: 1/? Warnings: Ludger being a big ass nerd Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters Summary: Julius just wanted to know what Ludger's hobbies were...he didn't expect to get sucked into them as well. A/N: This is what happens when you detest OreImo but like the idea of one sibling discovering the other is a huge ass anime fan

---

Staring down at the box he’d placed on the kitchen table, Julius knows this one accident has screwed up his entire relationship with his little brother.

The package in the mail had simply been addressed to a ‘Mr. Kresnik’, and Julius had ordered their cat an assortment of toys that was expected to arrive that very week. So of course he opened the inconspicuous brown package without a second thought, and if he could rewind time, he’d punch himself straight in the jaw for being so hasty. What slipped out of the package was a thick, rectangular box wrapped in plastic, and as soon as his eyes landed on the cover, all Julius could do was stare in utter shock.

Across the top was the title ‘Your Sweet Love – Fan Disk – ENGLISH PC VERSION‘, and underneath it was a drawing of a man surrounded by several other men, their hands all over the body of the one in the center. His mind went blank for a good minute, and once he came to his senses he damn near dropped it in a moment of panic. After a quick catch he placed it on the kitchen table, and for a longest time all he could do was stare at from where he sat.

Running his fingers through his hair, Julius knows there’s only two options right now. One, he can put the game back in the parcel, seal it up as best he can, and pretend he’d never touched it in the first place. Or…he could confront his little brother about it and just get the awkward moment over with. Julius really, really wants to go with the former, but his mind screams at him that the latter is the correct way to go. Why? Because as hard as it is to admit, Julius knows NOTHING about Ludger.

Despite growing up together, he couldn’t think of one time when his brother picked up a hobby or expressed an interested in something. Well, except cooking, but that was only because Julius is an absolute disaster in the kitchen. He really didn’t know what his little brother like outside of the basics, and this is a golden opportunity to finally dig a little deeper. Ludger liked…whatever the game is enough to purchase it, so maybe he could get him to talk about it, if only a little.

He jumps upon hearing the door to their apartment open, and all he can do now is swallow hard as he readies himself for what’s to come.

“Sorry I’m late,” he hears Ludger say, “I stopped at the grocery store since they were having a sale. Is lasagna okay for tonight? I know we’ve had pasta two nights in a row already-”

“Hey, um, could you come here for a second?” Julius asks, and he’s really trying his best to hide the nervousness in his voice.

“Sure,” Ludger says before placing the plastic bags he’s holding on the counter.

Clenching his jaw tightly, Julius can hear his heart pounding in his ears which each approaching step Ludger takes. Oh god…he’s really going to do this…wait, can he really do this?

“What’s up-?”

His words are cut off by the strangled sound he makes once he lays eyes on the box on the table. Ludger’s eyes widen, and for a split second his face pales before it’s dyed a shade of bright red that manages to reach the tips of his ears. Julius has never seen him so embarrassed before. Damn, now he doesn’t know what to say, so he watches Ludger fidget in place like a kid that’s in trouble-

Shit…Another wave of panic begins to set in because Ludger thinks he’s done wrong; Julius hasn’t given him a reason to think otherwise, so that’s probably the first thing he should address.

“I’m so sorry, I thought the package was for me since I ordered cat toys for Rollo, that’s why I opened it,” he quickly says, “and um, it’s okay if you like cartoon games, really.”

Seemingly explicit cartoon games he wants to say, but he manages to choke that one back.

“Ah…” Ludger squeaks out, eyes on the floor.

They go silent, and it feels far more awkward than Julius had imagined. He wanted to know what Ludger is interested in, but how does he even start that conversation? ‘Oh hey, tell me more about this weird game’, ‘what are those guys doing?’, ‘it’s porn, right?’…None of those were going to work, and it’d only make him shrink back further. Julius really wishes he’d thought this through a little more, at least enough to get past this silence.

“It’s, um…a dating sim…” he says barely above a whisper.

“Oh…okay. So, you, uh…play a guy that dates other guys?”

Ludger lets out a groan that makes it clear he’s absolutely mortified, and as he covers his face with his hands, Julius feels terrible for making him feel like that. He should stop the conversation now.

“Please just tell me it’s weird, you don’t have to beat around the bush,” he says, voice raising a good two octaves as he does so.

Julius clenches his jaw again before answering.

“Yeah, it’s…it’s weird, Ludger, but…” he lets out a long, shaky breath before continuing, “It’s your thing. I may find it weird, but you’re an adult. And really, I want to know more about the stuff you like…because I feel so out of loop when it comes to your interests. I mean, if you really don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

Silence falls between them again, but this time it doesn’t feel as heavy as it did before. Ludger slowly begins to drop his hands from his face, but his eyes are still glued to the floor. Julius opens his mouth to say something else, but quickly closes it. He’s said more than enough, so he leaves whatever needs to be said to Ludger.

“…Can we…talk about this another time? J-Just so I have some time to think and make a decision…”

“Yeah, of course.”

The moment he sees Ludger start to relax a bit, Julius begins to do the same. He quickly retreats into the kitchen without another word, so Julius takes this as a hint that the conversation is over.

An entire week goes by, and Ludger seemed to do everything within his power to pretend that their little talk hadn’t happened. The very next day he was all smiles as he went about his daily routine, but as Julius watched him, he couldn’t help but notice Ludger’s slip-ups. The two of them never held eye contact for more than a few seconds before his little brother averted his gaze elsewhere or quickly excuse himself. When not actively fleeing from him, Ludger looked lost in thought, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he wasn’t doing chores while it happened.

He’d ironed through three shirts, burned their dinner twice, and walked right into the wall next to his bedroom door. But when Ludger damn nearly cuts off a finger while preparing a meal, Julius realized he needed to put a stop to things. On his way home from work he was determined to tell Ludger that it was all right, that he didn’t need share anything with him if just thinking about it was causing him so much distress.

Well that was the original plan before Ludger grabbed his wrist as soon as he entered the apartment. Before he could get a single word out, he was quickly dragged to his brother’s room, the door shutting loudly as soon as he entered.

So he just sits on his brother’s bed, watching as he gives him a stern look. Despite the air of seriousness Ludger tries to give off, Julius can see a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. After a few seconds Ludger looks away, but he seems to gather his wits and look back. Now is probably a good time for Julius take a bit of that weight off his brother’s shoulders, but as he opens his mouth to speak, Ludger beats him to it.

“Did…did you mean what you said before…?” he questions, leaning forward a bit as he does so.

“Um, about what-?”

“About being interested in the things I like.”

Without hesitation he tells him that yes, yes he meant what he said, but more importantly he wants Ludger to be comfortable talking to him. Another silence falls, but this time Julius thinks it’s not from awkwardness but from Ludger taking what he said to heart. Julius might’ve been curious, but he would not allow his curiosity to win out at the expense of his little brother’s comfort.

“…I don’t think I’ll ever be totally okay with talking to you about it, I mean…” he averts his gaze, the blush on his face deepening a bit. “You’d be the second real life person I’ve talked to about it, and Nova barely counts since she was already in the know about this stuff.”

Straightening up, Ludger admits that having someone else to ‘rant to’ other than Nova would be nice, though Julius withholds feeling flattered until his brother gives him the okay. After a few seconds Ludger lets out a loud huff, and Julius doesn’t resist as his brother pulls him up by the wrist. They don’t go far; Ludger stops in front of his closet, a place Julius never ventured into so of course it’d be the perfect place to hide whatever. Ludger pushes aside a couple of shirts to get to the back, and he knows exactly what he’s doing.

With both their closets there’s a space for extra storage behind a sliding door in the back, and even though Julius thinks it’s not quite big enough to fit a bunch of stuff, Ludger has clearly made it work for his hobby. His brother gives him a quick look over his shoulder before he begins to open the door, and once Julius has a clear view of what’s inside, he’s dumbstruck.

The first three shelves are lined with what looks like books, and as he scans each row he sees boxes that resemble the one he’d accidently found in the mail. Some of the titles on the spins are in English while others are written in a language he vaguely recognizes; Ludger will probably explain it to him, so he simply moves on. The middle two shelves are occupied by figurines of various sizes, each one striking a different, dynamic pose. He stares at one positioned near the front for a few seconds, and then it dawns on him that he’s seen that character…on the cover of that PC game.

The last shelf holds plush toys of strange animals Julius can’t even begin to identify, though one does vaguely resemble a cat if he squints. Next to the toys are an assortment of keychains; some of them look like miniature versions of the figurines, while others looks like drawing printed on a thin piece of plastic. There’s just so much stuff that in front of him he can’t help but feel overwhelmed, and it’s amazes him that he’s never he caught a glimpse of any of it until last week.

“I like anime and manga…they’re basically Japanese cartoons and comics,” he mutters, blush reaching the tips of his ears again.

Julius doesn’t mean for the ‘huh’ he gives off to sound indifferent, so he clears his throat to give a proper response.

“I see…Wait, so you can understand Japanese?”

“Yeah, I’ve been teaching myself since middle school.”

That’s…impressive. As soon as he tells Ludger how amazed he is, his brother gives him a goofy, lopsided smile, but it disappears as quickly as it appears. He admits that learning a language just to further enjoy his hobby doesn’t seem like that big of an achievement, let alone something worth praising. Julius can’t help but feel taken aback, even if some part of him was expecting a response along those lines. Sometimes he forgets about his brother’s self-esteem issues, and it’s in these moments that Julius knows he needs to flex his big brother muscle.

“No, I mean it, I’m seriously impressed,” he says while placing a hand on Ludger’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’d have the motivation to learn a different language just because, let alone for as long as you’ve been doing it. I’m proud of you.”

Ludger looks skeptical, but as a small smile slowly spreads across his lips, Julius knows he’s taken his words to heart.

Once he relaxes a little more, Ludger goes over everything in his closet, from the comic books called manga and why they’re read backwards, to a brief history of what anime is. As he listens intently, flipping through one of the books as he does so, something catches his eye in the corner of the closet.

“What’s that?” Julius asks while motioning to the unmarked carboard box.

“Oh, that? I just keep my old OTP stuff in there. I mean, I still ship a lot of it, but newer stuff…takes …priority…u-um…”

He has no idea what his brother just said, and as Ludger blushes deeply while covering his face, Julius has a feeling this is going to be a long process…