#i’m so negative cause i haven’t eaten yet i’ll be fine. right now i’m sad tho

[shuckstruck]

unrelated. damn if i didn’t have an eating disorder before i sure as fuck do now lmao

[sparklingchan]

Perfect ||Yang Hongseok (Pentagon)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Hongseok

Genre : Angst,fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of insecurities and self doubt.

Word count : 1.8k+

Enjoy!

They say that actions speak louder than words but I know from experience that sometimes words cause so much damage that even actions aren't able to repair those damages.

Hongseok says I am the love of his life and that he wouldn't trade me for the world, and I believe him because if I were to list all of his good qualities, being honest would top it. Besides being honest , he was practically good at everything. Singing, dancing, sports, studies, you name it. He is perfect , and even perfect is an understatement sometimes.

"(Y/n), Did you forget to buy milk yesterday too?" my dad asks me as I am eating breakfast, phone in my hand and earphones plugged in.

I sigh , pressing my hand to my face out of guilt. Why am I so forgetful?

"No, I'm sorry, pa. I'll go and buy it right now." I say and stand, leaving my half eaten breakfast behind.

He shakes his head in disappointment.

"Leave it, I'll ask Hongseok to buy it. He's coming to meet you today right?" He asks .

I don't know why but I was disappointed to hear him say that. I should be happy that my father got along so well with my boyfriend and adored him so much but I wasn't. Not even close. I felt like a horrible person at that moment for feeling that pang of jealousy.

"It's okay, pa. Hongseok probably has other things to do too. I'll buy right now. He will be coming in the evening anyway." I say, insistent.

"We can wait until the evening. The last time I sent you to get milk ,you bought everything but milk and this time you didn't even go to buy it. It's alright honey, Hongseok is more responsible. He'll buy it. "

That's when the realisation came of not being good enough. It was a small incident , some light words my father had said in the spur of the moment that I could have easily forgotten about it, just how I forgot everything else, but I didn't. I kept replaying the words in my head 'he's more responsible'. It drilled a small crack in my ego but with time the crack became a gaping hole, waiting to swallow me.

Hongseok invited me to his parents' anniversary party that they were hosting at their residence. I was unwilling to go honestly , not because I didn't want to go but because I was afraid of embarrassing Hongseok in front of his friends and relatives.

You see, I didn't fall into the category of pretty girls. I was just average. In a room full of pretty girls, you would never expect someone to have their eyes stuck on me. I am also too hyper , too talkative, too loud. And there is a whole list of other such things that would take me forever to jot down.

Hongseok didn't say it out loud but I just know that I embarrassed him in public, a lot.

"What are you going to wear?" he asks me over call the night before the party. I stare at the three dresses on my bed(the only dresses I own) and sigh, still stressed about limited choices of dresses for a fancy evening party. I hate wearing dresses but I know I cannot show up at the party wearing a pair of jeans and my black hoodie.

"I don't know, Hong. I'm confused." I say as I flop on the bed, nuzzling my face into the pillow.

"Oh god,(y/n). You should have told me earlier. I would have taken you shopping." He says with a hint of excitement in his voice.

But I fail to reciprocate it.

My ears turn red, embarrassed at his comment. I've been very sensitive to everything he says from the past few days and many times, I even tried to ignore his texts or calls . I know he didn't mean to make me feel this way but I couldn't help it. With each passing day, I feel myself becoming more of burden to him than a girlfriend. Truth to be told, I really wanted him to find his happiness in someone who was better than me.

Not to mention that it would break me to see him with someone else , but I am ready to bear that if it means seeing him truly happy.

" It's alright. I'll wear something nice so don't worry about being embarassed because of me." I reply, the words sounding harsher than I intended.

He keeps quiet for a few seconds before talking again.

"(Y/n), is everything alright? I've been observing you since the past few days and you're acting weird. And now you snap at me like that. You wanna talk about it, huh, baby?" he says in the sweetest voice ever. He always knows what to say, doesn't he? It makes me even more angry.

"He does not deserve you. He deserves someone as perfect as him." a voice inside my head says.

"I'm sorry but I've always been weird. Sorry for the goddamned inconvenience." I yell, sarcasm dripping in my voice. But before he can reply I hang up the call.

That night I turn and toss in my bed ,debating in my head whether or not to go to the party. A part of me wants to go because it feels bad for yelling at Hongseok and genuinely loves him and another part of me hates the idea of the party and just wants to stay in the house, not be an embarrassment to anyone. Ultimately, by the time the sun starts rising and my alarm goes off, I decide to go to the party.

********

I wear a red dress that reaches a little above my knees, pencil heels and some accessories. I put on some light make up and head out for the party. I've been ignoring Hongseok's texts and calls yet again and even though I am really tempted to talk to him, I just patiently wait till I reach his house.

And When I finally reach , I find him standing at the gate, busy on his phone and looking around as if searching for something. And that something is me.

"Hongseok." I whisper loud enough for him to hear me, as I slowly walk towards him, his eyes already on me. His face breaks into a smile on seeing me and naturally,mine does too. I haven't met him in person for a long time and right now, looking at him in a tux and perfect hair and with his beautiful smile, I realise how much I missed him.

He wraps his arms around me and it makes me forget about everything else , though just for a moment.

"I missed you." he says to me , nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

"I missed you too. " I say, placing my arms around his slim waist, " About yesterday-" I am about to complete my sentence when someone , his cousin if I recall properly , interrupts us.

"Hongseok, they're calling you inside, come on"

The party goes on smoothly . Hongseok and I are together almost throughout the whole time and for once, I didn't feel like I was embarrassing, maybe those feelings would come back but right now I am enjoying his company way too much to let negative thoughts ruin.

He would steal kisses from when I am blabbering about something or he would caresses my cheeks or hold my waist. He is all about PDA and I love it. Neither of us talked about yesterday and I know that the issue is resolved without me even having to say anything.

"I'm going to get dessert. Do you want anything?" he says, getting up from the table a little while later.

"I'll come with you." I say as I stand up too even though my feet hurt from wearing heels for too long .

We walk along the outdoor swimming pool, kids playing around and everyone else busy in their own little conversations and for once, I didn't feel out of place. Sadly ,all of that was short lived. Everything that happened next feels like a blur to me, like a video that is fast forwarded a little too much for my liking. I only vaguely remember a kid running right into me with full force, me tripping over and falling right into the swimming pool with a huge splash.

At that moment, I really wish I had stayed home.

*********

My ears are still ringing from to the splash and I feel horrible, embarrassed, sad and anxious all together. I've been holding in my tears all along and I know it isn't long before I snap, horribly. I have never felt so humiliated in my entire life and moreover, I wonder how much embarrassment Hongseok will have to go through because of me. I imagine a better scenario in my head where he is dating someone better than me, someone who'd have never caused so much humiliation. Someone who was more well behaved than me ,someone who wasn't me.

"Wear my t-shirt and pants till your clothes dry out. It shouldn't take long to dry them though." Hongseok says, handing some of his clothes to me.

I don't say anything, afraid of bursting into tears anytime.

I quickly wear his clothes .

"Are you in a mood to go downstairs for lunch or do you want me to bring our plates here? I'm fine with whatever you want, just name it" he says. He removes strands of hair from my face and tucks them behind my ears. His touch is like magic, giving me goosebumps but I force myself to swat his hand away,not being able to look him in the eye.

"I just want to go home. I can't embarrass you or your family anymore. " I say in a choked voice. I didn't want to cry right now but even before I could do anything, my eyes fill with tears.

"(Y/n)! You didn't do anything, sweetheart. Please, don't say that . You could never do that." he says, sitting beside me. He puts his hand comfortingly on my thigh but I move away .

"Why, Hongseok? Why are you lying? I know I have caused you nothing but humiliation and trouble . Stop denying it . I disappoint everyone, you, dad, my teachers, friends. You deserve better than this. Than me, " My voice breaks. "Let me go"

I say the last part in a small voice, unsure of how he'd react but he hears me, loud and clear.

"Okay, stop it now." he says in a tough tone, clearly angry. " I don't know what delusion you're under but let me make one thing clear ,you are more than what I deserve. You are smart, funny, bright, supportive, friendly, romantic, you're perfect. Other girls wish they're you. But they aren't because there can only be one (y/n). And I love her. With all her flaws and perfections. I'm not perfect either. I make mistakes and that's why we're more compatible than anyone else. Do you understand? "

Hearing these words as if breaks a wall that I'd been building from the past few days, and I feel relief wash over me. I start crying.

"You really mean it?" I ask in a small voice as his arms wrap around me. He places a kiss on my head.

"I mean it with all my heart. " He says. "Don't ever say that you're not good enough for me or that I deserve better, because I don't care. You're the one I want and I know you're more than enough for me."

And I believe him, like I always do.

[intrulogical]

Spirals

author’s note: oh literally this is the worst. who knew the first fic without logan would've been a nightmare to make. i just really wanted to establish a secure dynamic between janus and remus, make some junji ito references, and move on, honestly. i just want to get to the fanfiction where they play poker and argue with the light sides, ya'know? but still, i guess i had to make *this* fanfiction. think of it as the halloween episode in sanders sides.

this fic literally cannot be read as a standalone so, for the love of all things good, please read the other fics in the series to understand what the fuck is going on! because this fic is sure as hell messy so reading it by itself won't even make sense lmao

like always, thank you to the logang discord for support! big thanks especially to kei, orb, and ellie for beta reading!

pairings: Platonic Remus & Janus, Mentions of Romantic Remus/Logan, Mentions of Past Remus/Janus

warnings:  remus angst, critical light sides, light sides negativity, swearing, remus-typical content, mentions of nsfw, weird horror-inspired creatures, slight self-esteem issues, just remus being sad :(

word count: 5502

summary: Remus sighed. It didn’t matter, he supposed. As long as the buzz from the lake distracted his thoughts and the hypnotizing spirals in the sky continued to drift, it would all be fine.

Spirals, spirals, spirals. Just like how he was spiralling right now. He chuckled at himself for the stupid connection; Logan really got him used to doing pointless word association games.

Word association games. Logan. His lover, boyfriend, partner, whatever.

Remus raised his arms to rub his tired face. The soaked sleeves of his hoodie dripped the water unto his cheeks. He really did not want to think about Logan and the possibility of him becoming a--

He splashed his arms back onto the water furiously as he furrowed his lip.

or,

Remus has some conflicting thoughts about Logan becoming a "Dark" Side, has a different unidentifiable problem, and swims around in his Junji Ito-inspired creation. Janus, on the other hand, has to convince him to take a break.

(ao3 link)

There was a buzzing, staticky sensation that tickled Remus’s neck and legs as he floated atop the Dragonfly Pond. The lake itself, admittedly, was highly unrealistic as Remus hadn’t perfected every single aspect of his copy of Uzumaki’s horrific town of Kurozu-Cho, but Remus enjoyed traversing through the ghastly lake nonetheless. The odd buzz that fizzled against his skin felt weirdly satisfying and mind-numbing, allowing the irksome, overwhelming thoughts in his head to evaporate slightly. 

Remus understood that he should’ve been tucked in his bed by now, falling asleep to eccentric Jack Stauber songs as he hugged the gigantic octopus plushie Logan had given to him on his birthday. There was a persistent burn in his eyes that only worsened as time passed by and his muscles ached so terribly to the point of cramping. His eyes were practically blurring after a few seconds of gazing at the sky, and he swore he felt frost nipping at the ends of his fingers and toes. Yet here he was, paddling himself across the lake using his feet as his hoodie became soggier by the second, ignoring every logical thought that screamed at him to go to bed.

Junji Ito’s works were always a source of unexpected comfort for Remus. Remus recognized it was probably suspicious that he felt at ease while reading mangas about demonic, gut-wrenching monsters, but as an avid fan of the cosmic horror genre, he was only exhilarated by the detailed yet unsettling drawings. 

This was the reason why he made replicas of those mangas in his side of the Imagination. Many of his landscapes were dedicated to the fascinating monsters Ito was able to create. Sometimes, Remus’s ambitiousness took over and prompted him to create entire cities and towns with clueless civilians that inhabited the horrific establishments. Remus just liked to go wild and have fun, y’know? Amp the scare factor up to a hundred. 

(He also took pleasure in witnessing Roman’s fearful face whenever one of his creatures trespassed his land. The occasion was rare but when it happened, Remus merely laughed at Roman devilishly.)

Remus breathed out deeply. The skies above were littered with spirals, each thick cloud hypnotically whorling as it passed by. The wind was also visible, each breeze being represented with curls and scrolls. The night slightly resembled Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” but in monochromatic colors, making the sky appear to be a more depressing clone of the painting. 

Additionally, surrounding the lake were an abundant amount of trees, each of their leaves curling at the corners. Sometimes, the trees would give into this spiral disease and coil up on itself like a centipede that was just stepped on. Some peculiar creatures also hid within the helical greenery, all of them taking a peek at Remus from time to time. Remus only recalled witnessing boulder-sized snails and a stretched out human-snake hybrid traversing through their forest for today, but Remus didn’t expect any of his creations to be any real threats to him. 

If Remus was being honest, he had expected more creatures to appear. Usually, some of the  ghosts that inhabited the lake would arise and stalk Remus creepily but they didn’t even come out to play. The tornado siren that usually resonated daily didn’t alarm either, and there were no ear-piercing shrieks and terrified screams he could hear from a distance. Despite his environment still being undeniably terrifying, it was still pretty tame compared to Remus’s past visits.

Remus sighed. It didn’t matter, he supposed. As long as the buzz from the lake distracted his thoughts and the hypnotizing spirals in the sky continued to drift, it would all be fine.

Spirals, spirals, spirals. Just like how he was spiralling right now. He chuckled at himself for the stupid connection; Logan really got him used to doing pointless word association games.

Word association games. Logan. His lover, boyfriend, partner, whatever. 

Remus raised his arms to rub his tired face. The soaked sleeves of his hoodie dripped the water unto his cheeks. He really did not want to think about Logan and the possibility of him becoming a—

He splashed his arms back onto the water furiously as he furrowed his lip. 

Remus was never one to anxiously overthink a problem. More than anything, he caused problems and issues, purposely terrorizing the others just because he enjoyed it. There was never a moment in his life he felt overwhelmed by an issue, especially when he was only partially involved. But this— this was different. The entire atmosphere of the Mindscape can shift, relationships can absolutely be tarnished and destroyed, and he didn’t even know how this issue could directly affect Thomas.

Remus sighed— this was a mess. A complete utter disastrous mess. 

“Remus?” a voice called from afar. Remus’s eyes widened as he recognized its owner. “Remus, do you know how long it took to fucking find you?” they continued, sounding obviously aggravated.

“Jannie? You came to find me?” Remus hollered back, flipping over so he remained standing upright in the lake. There in the distance stood Janus whose hair looked incredibly dishevelled as his cape was almost in tatters.

“Of course, you cretin. You haven’t been in your room since four and didn’t even come to eat dinner.” Janus told him, clearly upset. Remus only blinked at him in surprise. Janus sighed, “Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that you’ve been, er, floating about for ten hours straight?”

Remus shrugged mindlessly, only causing Janus to furrow his eyebrows. “What? Ten hours isn’t a big deal.”

“Remus.” Janus said scoldingly, holding a disappointed yet concerned gaze. “Have you eaten at all?” 

“Been meaning to try the human-sized snails crawling around town. Did you know snails are rich in protein? Logan explained that some researcher in Africa or something discovered that eating snails could—”

“Again, have you eaten?” Janus interrupted. 

“Does swallowing lake water count?” Remus asked.

“If you swim out of there, I’ll lend you some cake B made a while ago.” Janus said monotonically, and Remus quickly perked up. 

“Why didn’t you say that in the first place, double dicks?” Remus said with a grin. Instead of swimming out of the lake, he snapped his fingers and teleported himself to the empty spot next to Janus. Janus’s face remained stoic and unmoving at Remus’s unkemptness and wet clothes as Remus simply grinned at him maniacally, clearly excited to be given the dessert.

After sighing, Janus grabbed a tupperware hidden beneath his cloak. How it was held securely in the cloak was a mystery, but he still handed the cake to Remus. “It’s red velvet, since he wanted to cheer you up.”

“Cheer me up?” Remus said while removing the tupperware’s lid, “He’s been apologetic about his outburst for what, two weeks, three weeks now? I mean, I guess it’s okay to be a greedy bitch when the opportunity is right there, but I still feel spoiled. Spoiled like… food.” Janus eyed him weirdly, “Like that milk carton that we abandoned in our fridge for ten months… uhm…”

“Seems like your creative juices are running low.” Janus told him as Remus shoved half of the cake into his mouth, “Firstly, we both know B is just like that, and secondly, this cake wasn’t something he made to add to his apology streak— he’s worried for you.”

Remus scoffed, “Worried? Why should he be—”

“Remus, your room is in disarray.” Janus told him with a concerned tone as the corners of his lips tilted downwards, “We’re not going to tiptoe around the issue here, Remus. He said you left a conversation with Logan frowning and the voices in your room suddenly intensified. I’m— we’re worried for you.”

Remus averted his gaze from Janus, chewing on the cake silently and shamefully as he watched the achromatic trees dance in sync to the breeze. Even while looking away, he can sense Janus’s heavy, unfiltered concern, staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, thinned lips, and nostrils slightly flared. 

Even if Remus was fully aware that he could trust Janus and B wholeheartedly, Remus was still undoubtedly hesitant to confess what bothersome thoughts were floating around his head. Whenever Remus needed to ramble on about some stupid dilemma he had to Janus, he was always certain about the complexity of the problem and what it entailed. Pinpointing what his current issues were to Janus was usually not too difficult to do, but somehow, this was different.

His problem felt… convoluted. More complex than he needed it to be. There were a million rampaging thoughts in his head that couldn’t stop reminding him of different problems he couldn’t tackle all at once. Typically, he can find one problem that stood out amongst the rest, but presently, every identifiable problem seemed to be equally as dreadful as each other, leaving Remus incredibly perplexed. Being unable to pinpoint his main issue was further adding on to the multitude of problems he already had to deal with, and he was unsure of how he was going to explain all this chaos that was within his mind.

Remus felt his right arm being nudged. “Remus?” Janus spoke, causing  Remus blinked thrice, not realizing he went quiet for a few minutes.

“Sorry,�� replied Remus with a forced grin, shoving another piece of the cake into his mouth. The worry on Janus’s face manifested a feeling of guilt within Remus, gradually making him feel sorry that Janus had to put up with his patheticness. 

“Remus, what time did you sleep last night?” Asked Janus, causing Remus to fiddle nervously with the skin around his fingernails. God, Remus regretted not bringing any sort of fidget toy or object for him to utilize— Logan’s going to scold him for this. “Actually, wrong question— it’s quite obvious that you didn’t sleep last night—”

“Don’t assume, Sweeney Fraud.” 

Janus quirked an eyebrow, “Oh? Then, when did you sleep, my dear Mrs. Lovett?” Janus said confidently, fidgeting with his gloves as he did. Remus made a disgruntled expression, rolling his eyes at the question. He guessed there was no avoiding it now.

“I’m not good at math, but probably seventy to seventy-eight hours ago? Uhm. That’s three days, right?” 

Janus placed his hand softly on the ground beneath him, “Remus, you couldn’t have possibly been awake for more than three days—”

“At least it wasn’t four whole days.”

“Remus,” Janus scolded him once more. Hearing Janus utter his name once more made him unexpectedly tense.

“What, seventy-eight hours is nothing compared to when we fucked for—”

Janus visibly grimaced, fists slowly clenching, “Ssssstop that,” he hissed, earning an entertained chuckle from Remus. “I don’t want to remember that— that phase we had.” he added, obviously flustered. 

“But ah, that phase we had was just wonderful!” Remus exclaimed, doing a chef’s kiss. Janus’s hands flew to grip his hat and simply pulled it closer to his face, “Thomas’s teenage years were marvelously filled with hormone-induced fantasies and—”

“Remusssss—”

“God, we were such horny children back then, even if it only lasted for a week—”

“Remus!” Janus roared, looking excessively embarrassed at Remus, “I am not proud of the— the activities we did back then so can you please do me a favor and forget about that entire week—”

“Jannie, you already know that I bring this up annually just to piss you off.” Remus said with a smirk, “I mean, look at you— all crimson and flushed like when I—”

“Oh my god, shut up!” Janus yelled, “You’re insufferable.”

“And so I’ve heard,” Remus replied, grinning widely.

“All I wanted was to help you with your damn problems and all I get greeted with is a reminder of our horrid sex life when we were teenagers, thanks a lot.” Janus murmured, hands still clenching his hat in humiliation. Meanwhile, Remus’ grin faltered a bit upon realizing that right, they still had his problems to discuss.

“That’s what friends are for,” Remus replied, trying to mask his worry by winking at Janus enthusiastically. Janus merely rolled  his eyes exasperatedly as a reply. “And I can handle my problems fine, J-anus. Just let me sulk here for another few hours, maybe I’ll duel one of those weird pregnant mosquito vampire creatures I’ve made—”

“—the what—?”

“—And maybe fall asleep around three or four? It’ll pass by then. I think. I dunno.” Remus finished with a nonchalant tone only to raise Janus’s suspicion. Remus froze at the sight of his disbelieving face— there was no chance in hell Remus would be able to lie in front of Janus, huh?

“‘You never pass the opportunity to vent when I ask you to.” Janus told him, consequently making Remus tilt his head in confusion. Janus sighed, “Well, I know you usually change the subject when I first bring it up, but upon the second or third request, you eventually do begin venting. What’s different about now?”

Remus was surprised that Janus had observed a pattern in their talks but was still unexplainably reluctant to share what was on his mind now. It would’ve been easier if he had Logan to talk to—he just made everything much easier, Remus didn’t know how that even worked—but Logan was involved with the issue and it just heightened his uneasiness even more.

“I— well,” Remus spoke, internally cringing at himself for the awful start, “God, I’ve been doing a lot of venting lately, is that even normal?”

“Better than duelling some pregnant vampire thingies or whatever the fuck you said earlier,” Janus replied, earning a half-smile from Remus.

“But I heard they put up a good fight, Jannie! Like, the townsfolk are saying they use drills as weapons while also having an insatiable thirst for blood—”

“Getting a little off-track here.”

“Ah— sorry.” Remus gave him an apologetic smile, “I’m just… very confused? Or anxious. Thoughts just swarm around my head like bees in a beehive and all of them keep buzzing,” Remus explained nervously. The tupperware and cake has long been abandoned as he continued to peel the skin around his fingernails instead, “And, uh, I don’t know where to start?”

“So you don’t know what’s bothering you?”

“Well, yes. And no.” Remus replied as he accidentally picked the skin around his thumb too harshly, causing a small trickle of blood to appear. Janus noticed this immediately, reaching out to pull Remus’s right hand away from his left.

“Don’t do that,” Janus instructed, causing Remus to huff at him agitatedly. Janus then sighed and unbuttoned his ruined cloak, handing it to Remus, “Some of your creatures clawed at the edges so you can play with the holes and loose threads instead if it means you’ll stop picking on your skin.” Janus explained, and Remus was about to protest until Janus continued, “I have more cloaks in my room, so destroy this one all you like.”

Remus gratefully accepted the cloak, following Janus’s suggestion and playing with the loose seams. “Thank you, uh,” Remus continued his tangent as he nervously pulled and plucked the strings, “Back to the thing— I kind of know what’s bothering me. Ish. Sorta kinda. Right now, I can probably identify ten— no, fifteen— or maybe twenty thoughts floating around that I could label as something contributing to my stupid dilemma.”

“But?”

“But I feel like there’s something I’m missing. A bigger problem I can’t seem to pinpoint— like that one episode Thomas made with the puppets! Er… I don’t know why I keep bringing up that one episode lately when honestly, it was such a terrible episode—“

“The Halloween one was worse, in my humble opinion.”

“Point taken. We could’ve made that episode ten times better, y’know? I feel offended they tried to make a scary episode without inviting us! If they really wanted to discuss Thomas’s embarrassing phases, we are quite the experts—“

“We’re getting off-topic again.”

“Fuck, sorry,” Remus said apologetically, “Where were we— oh right, the stupid bigger problem thing.” Remus huffed tiredly, “I feel so fucking bothered that I don’t know what’s bothering me which is making me even more bothered and more bothered and it’s just a fucking loop! A terrible cycle. A bothering one. Did I mention I’m so fucking bothered?”

“Then lay it on me.” Janus told him, and Remus tilted his head at him, slightly perplexed, “What I mean is— if we can’t identify the bigger problem at hand, then you can at least tell me about the problems you can identify. Maybe we can piece together what we’re missing here.”

“I swear to Jesus Christ that this is beginning to look like that puppet episode.”

“What’s your obsession with that damn puppet episode? We weren’t even in it.”

“I dunno, to be honest. I just like to shit on it a lot. Like, look at me, I have the same problems Thomas is having, yet I’m still villainized, for some goddamn reason. Maybe it’s the mustache? It’s gotta be the mustache.” Remus twirled the edges of his curled mustache as Janus merely shrugged.

“To be fair, you had a very violent introduction.”

“You know what? True. Probably should’ve gone with my ‘Breaking Through the Window’ plan—“ Janus opened his mouth, most likely about to interrupt Remus, but Remus immediately butted in first before he can be scolded again, “Yea, yea, I know, go back on topic, yadda yadda yadda.”

“I’m here to listen, so feel free to spill whatever you want to spill.” Janus replied, looking at Remus intently. Before Remus could express his lengthy spiel, he successfully ripped a certain portion of the cloak he was fiddling with. Sighing, he lowered the cloak, and gazed back at Janus. Janus was patiently waiting for him, and despite looking exhausted, Remus knew he was still going to listen. God, what did he do to deserve Janus?

“Well…” Remus started anxiously, twirling one of the loose threads between his fingers, “I already told you about the entire Logan ordeal.”

“Him becoming a—what’d they call it again—a ‘Dark’ Side?”

“Yep.” Remus affirmed, face scrunched up in discomfort, “Y’know like, I thought I’d be excited to see him here, but after much thought—which is funny since most of the time, I don’t overthink things—but anyway, after much thought, I just feel… dreadful. Like, this shit ain’t just Logan coming over here to visit. This has permanent consequences I didn’t even consider until now. I don’t even know how the other sides will react or— or if this’ll damage Thomas in any way.

“I know that Thomas would still be able to function— it isn’t like Logan is actually going to fade away or disappear. He’ll just be… neglected more. Gosh, his neglect is all my fault, isn’t it? I mean, I know that I should technically blame Thomas and the other sides for Logan’s gradual descent into becoming one of us, but maybe I should take part in the blame too since it’s my fault that he’s brought down here a lot. Maybe I— maybe I badly influenced him? Maybe his own problems and insecurities were created because of how much time he’s spent with me—”

“Now that’s—”

“Me, overthinking? Probably. But Logan is important to Thomas, he needs to be up there to be able to help Thomas the most. Maybe bringing him down here was a mistake on my part because now he’s just so willing to give up his position as a ‘Light’ Side. The other sides will condemn him, hurt him even more, villainize him like how I’ve been villainized. Logan’s going to get fuckin’ hurt because of my ass and I just, what, blindly allowed it to happen for the past few months? And now it’s too late to back out because, at any moment, he’s going to join us and all chaos will break loose.

“What if… what if him becoming part of our family is going to erupt a bigass fight between Logan and the others? Believe me, I’d love to see Logan go feral and slap the shit out of Patton, but I’m… scared? And it’s weird— I’m never really scared of anything. But I’m scared that there'll be a bigger divide between the ‘Light’ and ‘Dark’ Sides because of… well, me. And I know not everything is entirely my fault, but it’s still partially my fault, so I still feel so fucking terrible. 

“And speaking of more problems that are partially my fault— there’s also B I have to worry about— and you! Like, I’m dragging you both into this mess just because I fell in love with some fucking nerd and now the other sides will hate you even more. I mean, Thomas doesn’t even know B, but I know those other sides are going to pin the blame on someone else like they always do, so we’re going to be antagonized more. And I don’t even know if B and Logan get along! Like, for all I know, I’m tearing our own family apart, because as far as I’m concerned, B would murder Logan if he got the chance to. But I can’t force him to be nice because I know it’s valid of him to get mad at Logan for all the shit that went down in Thomas’s teenage years, but I don’t know if that’s just going to hurt Logan and— agh!”

“Remus,” Janus spoke softly, snapping him out of his hysteria. As Janus carefully placed his hand atop Remus’ forearm, Remus had realized that in the midst of his incohesive rambling, he had successfully torn Janus’ cloak apart with his bare hands. Moreover, his eyes didn’t seem like the only thing that felt like burning as his lungs felt like it was being set ablaze with how labored his breathing has become. He could feel his shoulder shudder after every two quickened breaths and his eye twitch after every third. 

“Sorry, sorry, I—”

“Enough apologies, I need you to breathe in—” Remus took a shaky inhale, “—and tell me five things you see.”

“Wh-what is this, that Frozen episode of Sanders Sides—?”

“Five things you see, Remus.” Janus repeated himself sternly, not allowing Remus to joke his way out of this situation.

In return, Remus clenched his jaw tensely, averting his gaze from Janus to eye the scenery before him. As he fiddled with the destroyed cloak’s tangled loose threads, he spoke apprehensively, “Uhm. The lake, obviously, and its spirals. That tree in the distance that’s coiling up unto itself as its leaves are disintegrating, uhm—” Remus paused to even out his breathing before his heart decided to jump out of his chest involuntarily,  “There’s a— some smoke? In the distance? I think it’s from a funeral— they’ve been having a lot of those here nowadays. And there goes a gigantic snail, trying to avoid being preyed on by— by that snake-human hybrid thing.” he finished as the snake-human hybrid pounced onto the defenseless snail, “Ah well, at least he tried.”

Once Remus looked back at Janus, he realized how horrified he must’ve been judging by his raised eyebrows and extremely thinned lips. He must’ve been trying his best not to question any creature he witnessed in this hellish side of the Imagination, and Remus felt flattered that Janus still remained by his side despite the horrific surroundings. Janus eventually shook his head and avoided gazing at the snail being eaten by the snake creature. “Apologies, er, four things you can feel?”

Remus’s grip on the cloak suddenly tightened, “Well, obviously the cloak. Uhm, it’s strings—” Remus wiggled his bare feet that laid on the ground, “I could also feel the grass and— and some water. I don’t think I’ve dried up just yet.”

“Three things you can hear?”

“The snake-human hybrid feasting on the snail it just killed—” Remus heard a muffled disgusted sound from Janus but didn’t comment on it, “The wind too— I think a tornado’s coming. And—” Remus successfully punctured another hole onto Janus’s ruined cloak, “—cloth being ripped. Sorry about your cloak.”

“Apology not needed. Two things you can smell?”

“Mold. I think it’s coming from the lake. And I think that’s—” Remus sniffed, “—smoke? Could be dead bodies. I dunno. Staying here for too long made me lose the ability to differentiate bad smells.”

Janus slightly winced at Remus’s statement but continued on, “One thing you can taste?”

“Red velvet mixed with gross lake water.” Remus replied, gazing at the abandoned tupperware on his left. His stomach grumbled at the idea of finishing the cake but his hands were too preoccupied with cloak shredding that he didn’t bother with it at all.

“I have told you before and I will tell you again: I’m not one to sugarcoat things, especially when false comfort is never going to bring you anywhere.” Janus explained as Remus nodded in understanding, “But, while these problems are quite terrifying to deal with, they also are manageable with enough time and patience. There’s no avoiding the fact that Logan is going to be part of our side of the Mindscape soon— we honestly should’ve seen it sooner after witnessing all the neglect he’s been receiving. But through thorough planning and careful conversations with B and hopefully, Thomas, we can understand that these problems aren’t too complex at all.

“We both may be figments of Thomas’s personalities, but we are also human, despite, you know, our weird animal traits. These thoughts swarming around your head like to overcomplicate situations when they might not be as awful as they seem. Again, they’re all defeatable after careful planning, and I assure you that you have my support along the way. B and Logan are also there to share their support. And I know B— we both know B— he’s impulsive, but he isn’t stupid. I’m sure B has already overheard about Logan’s transition to our side and is trying his best to adapt. And Logan loves you, Remus, he will plan something, I’m sure of it.

“And as for you… well, there’s no avoiding that we all are at fault for this entire scenario, but you, out of every side in the Mindscape, has probably contributed the least to Logan’s neglect. But it’d also be useless to dwell on the idea further when Logan’s just about to transfer any time soon. Just understand that while we have made some mistakes in the past, we’ve also grown from them and have changed. And while I can’t fully speak on Logan’s behalf, it’s quite obvious that you’ve made his life much happier.”

Remus smiled sourly to himself, slowly processing everything Janus had just stated to him. “Thank you, Jannie,” he said, earning a smug grin from Janus. “I guess I just needed some rest.”

“With how overwhelming your thoughts are at the moment, you definitely need to rest. I don’t think you’re used to having ten million problems at once.”

Suddenly, a metaphorical lightbulb flashed within Remus’s head, eyes widening at Janus’s statement, “I— wait. Hold on. Maybe that’s the problem here!”

“Not resting? Well, yes, technically—”

“No, you idiot! I forget you lose your brain cells from time to time.” Remus commented, earning an irritated huff form Janus. “What I mean is— I’ve never been used to handling so many issues all at once. Like I…” Remus snapped one string off the cloth, “For all my life, I’ve been so complacent. The only issues I’ve ever dealt with were my intrusive thoughts and my insecurities and then, well, Thomas started reaching out to us more and... there was a shift. You understand me, right? Like, everything felt like it was changing once Thomas began to rely on the other sides more.

“I was never involved in any heavy issue. More than anything, I cause many problems without giving a shit about the consequences! And then Logan happened and everything just changed again. I was so used to not caring about anything that when every problem just started stacking up, I was... overwhelmed. It made me feel like I was responsible for everything, every little issue, and I felt like I was going to ruin everything.”

“But you were just not accustomed to juggling different issues all at once?”

“Right,” Remus replied. They stayed silent for a few moments, Janus letting Remus ponder about his newfound revelation. While a dull sense of relief settled within Remus, there was still a sense of disappointment that lingered around. He couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous this all was. The problem was just so… childish. Immature. Really fucking dumb. For someone who nagged on incessantly about how pathetic Thomas was for pampering himself and his viewers constantly, Remus was being such a pathetic wimp himself.

“This was all so stupid,” Remus murmured, impassively staring off into the distance. “I’ve eaten four bottles of Vicks, I’ve killed three boars with my bare hands, fuck, I’ve tried recreating every monster from the SCP Foundation universe and tried to fight them all in a single arena! And yet this is what bothers me? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Is it supposed to?”

Remus paused for a few, “Damn,” he said, slightly breathless, “you’re good at this. Can I hire you to be my therapist?” Remus joked, his lips forming a half-smirk.

“I thought I already was.” Janus replied, “I’ll expect payment in forms of self-care.”

Remus tilted his head with a displeased pout, “Ew. Too expensive— I never agreed to any of these terms and conditions. Can we rediscuss your bill policies?”

Before replying, Janus sighed and swiftly stood up. Remus gazed at him in confusion before Janus stretched out an arm in front of Remus, implying that he was going to bring him somewhere else. “Nope, and I think it’s time for you to start paying back.”

Remus’s eyebrows slanted inwards at the abrupt demand, somewhat urged to refuse Janus’s order immediately. Janus seemed to recognize Remus’s hesitance right away as he lowered his hand in annoyance, placing it on his hip.

“I don’t want to return to my room just yet.”

Janus quirked an eyebrow at him, “I didn’t say we were going to your room, Remus, I’m not a fool.” Janus explained, and that made Remus loosen up a bit. “I was going to ask if you want to sleep in my room for tonight.”

Remus’s eyes widened at the offer but was definitely not dismayed by the suggestion. Faint memories of him and Virgil discreetly sneaking into Janus’s room on sleepless nights flitted across his mind as a warm yet pleasant feeling of nostalgia bubbled in his chest. Remus reminisced about the times where Janus would tiredly extract the pull-out bed from underneath his own bed as he and Virgil would enthusiastically hop on the bed before Janus would sing them a soothing lullaby. While Virgil was mostly a taboo subject between him and Janus nowadays, those old memories still sparked some odd comforting feeling within Remus, and he couldn’t help but smile in fondness.

“Well,” Remus started, “why didn’t you begin with that, penis squared?” Remus added with a genuine grin, scrambling to get a hold of the torn cloak and the abandoned tupperware. Janus mirrored his smile, albeit slightly tired, and reached out again to pull Remus up.

Once up, Remus dusted off any dirt that soiled his green hoodie before standing next to Janus. “I’ll make sure to set up a playlist of soap crushing videos for you to fall asleep to. While I didn’t want to do much work, I did grab some pillows, plushies, and fidget toys in advance just so you don’t have to return to your room for the night. The only thing I can’t help you with is breakfast in the morning because even if I wanted to do something sweet, we both know that I’m a fabulous chef.”

Remus barked out a laugh, “I wouldn’t want you to cook anything for me either. I feed all your failed meal attempts to Cthulhu.”

“...Poor Cthulhu.”

“But still, thanks for everything else, mother.” Remus said, earning an eye roll from Janus, “Where would I ever be without you?”

“Probably dead in a ditch.”

Remus barked out another laughter, “To be fair, I think I’d rather be dead in a ditch than face any of the crap I’m dealing with now. I think the corpse germs would treat me far better than how Thomas is treating me now.” Remus joked in between forced laughs as Janus’s face quickly dropped. Remus’s laughter only stopped when he felt Janus’s scaly palm touch his forearm and thumb over it soothingly. Remus looked at his hand, then at Janus’s face. His eyebrows are knitted together in concern but his lips formed a small, calming smile.

“This’ll all pass soon, Remus. Everything will be okay,” assured Janus as Remus quietly blinked twice at the statement before his lip quivered involuntarily. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

With glossy eyes, Remus nodded, “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

[written-prose-things]

Summary:  When an unknown hunter walks into Beacon Hills, Derek goes into Over Protective Alpha mode. Everyone gets puts into groups, which they're supposed to stick with at all times. Stiles gets stuck with Derek. Ya know, The Alpha He Has A Crush On. Over the next three days, they both realise exactly how much fun their normal life can be as well. [this is the 5th and final chapter!]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | AO3

As they make their way into the school, the pack is suspiciously quiet. Stiles can’t fault them for it. Nobody would have expected them to fight so abruptly.

Scott asks him softly, though Stiles doesn’t doubt that the rest of the pack can hear them, “Did you tell him?”

At some point, Stiles might have been freaked out about the fact that pack would hear about his crush on Derek, but how does it matter when the alpha in question doesn’t even trust Stiles.

Stiles shrugs, “No, I didn’t tell him.”

Jackson wonders out loud, “Then how’d you land up in his bed? Derek doesn’t seem like the guy who would sleep with someone no strings attached.”

Stiles chokes on his spit. Erica smacks Jackson across the head, “It isn’t no strings attached for Derek, you idiot. You know how he smells when Stiles is around.”

Jackson replies snootily, “Sorry if I don’t go around sniffing the alpha, like a creep.”

After Scott has thumped him on the back twice, Stiles replies, “Is that what you guys thought happened? Jeez, no. We just spent the night on his rooftop looking at constellations. I guess I just fell asleep then, so he let me sleep in his room. And thanks for the concern Erica, but Derek is not interested in me. I think you need your nose checked.”

The rest of the day, the pack keep their word to Derek. Stiles isn’t left alone for even a moment. The constant hovering makes him feel a little suffocated, but he doesn’t want to curb the pack’s instinct to nurture, Stiles tries to stomach the patronising feeling.

By the end of the day, Stiles is so tired that he forgets that he has to go home and face his father. The impending wrath is enough to make Stiles slump in his seat as his teacher drones on about geometry.

When he walks out of class, he’s followed by Boyd and Lydia. Stiles expects them to leave him alone at least when he goes home, but it becomes apparent that he isn’t getting any privacy when they climb into his jeep after his and the rest of the pack follows him home.

It’s only when the entire pack plonks itself in different parts of his house as he sits down to do his homework, that Stiles loses it. He’s never looking for putty, but Stiles can see the difference between himself and everyone else. They’re all playing games, laughing and eating as he ploughs through their English assignment.

“Guys.”

The different noises around the house stop quickly. Stiles doesn’t need to raise his voice to get their attention.

“Could you leave? I need to do my work, and you’re all very distracting.”

It’s Jackson, who answers as he’s sitting on Stiles’ bed with Allison, “But then who will protect you?”

Stiles hates himself for successfully reigning in the urge to turn Jackson into a toad.

-x-

His dad walks in when Stiles is kicking the entire pack out. The pack leaves easily knowing that someone is going to be around to protect Stiles. He doesn’t know if he should feel thankful or irritated; Had he yelled at them anymore, it feels like he would have lost his voice.

His father, who’s standing in the doorway in his uniform asks, “So, are you going out today as well, or can we talk?”

Stiles shakes his head, “I’m not going anywhere.” and trudges indoors after his father.

They settle in the living room. Stiles wonders how he’s supposed to assure his father than they aren’t indulging in any unsavoury activities even if they meet at nights and don’t talk otherwise, without revealing Derek to be a werewolf.

His father starts the conversation, “I think you know what this is about son.”

“Dad, Derek isn’t a bad guy. You know-”

His father holds his hand up, asking Stiles to politely shut up, “I just want to say, I’m proud of you son. Not many people would have the guts to approach someone with his past and try to help them in their moments of weakness.”

Stiles tries not to let his surprise be too evident on his face. Derek? Weakness? Did his father mistake Derek for someone else?

Stiles tries to cover up his gap in the conversation, “Oh yeah, you know me. I’m always helping the little guy out.”

His father shakes his head, “I know you don’t like to be mushy. But I’m proud of you. Since the day that Derek walked into the station, I haven’t ever seen someone go out of their way to comfort him or even talk to him on the anniversary.”

A heavy block settles into Stiles’ stomach. He yelled at Derek for wanting some one on one time with his only family member around and Stiles yelled at him. Called him distrustful for it.

Stiles hasn’t ever felt like vomiting this hard. He excuses himself from the living room quickly.

“Dad, I have to go. Ya’ know, homework and shi-stuff.”

Stiles walks up the stairs slowly and falls into bed after closing the door. One part of him wants to rush to the loft and beg for Derek’s forgiveness. He can’t bear putting himself in Derek’s shoes right now. Because the alpha’s been extremely lenient with him.

Stiles remembers all the times he’s been short-tempered, upset and irritable with people around him, for no fault of theirs during his mother’s death anniversary. Stiles knows for a fact that if he had been in Derek’s position, the other person would have been a dismembered corpse right now.  

But the least he can do now is to let the Alpha pass the remaining day with his family and not cause further strife.

He decides to apologise to the alpha the next day, or whenever they meet next.

The next morning, Stiles wakes up dizzy, never having forgotten why he’d ended up asleep on top of the covers in his jeans and flannel.

He slowly rolls out of bed, contemplating ways to apologise to Derek, that won’t make the alpha hate him more.

Halfway through his scheming, as he’s brushing his teeth, Stiles’ father calls out that he’s leaving for the station.

The house becomes much more silent and Stiles contemplates not going to school. Whether he meets and apologises to Derek or not, he’s going to have to tell Scott what’s happened. Which means that the whole pack will know how nastily he behaved with the alpha. And believe it or not, he likes being a part of the pack now. He doesn't want to tear it apart with his stupid mistake.

Stiles walks down the stairs, thinking about what breakfast he should eat while moping when the Camaro pulls into the driveway. Stiles rushes out of the door, apologies ready on his tongue, uncaring of how much of a barn animal he looks like.

Derek’s sitting in the driver’s seat, wearing his usual shirt and jeans, which look a little worse for the wear. And his jacket, which looks like it's hasn't been washed yet?

Stiles ducks down to look in through the window, “I’m really sorry Derek. I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

Derek nods jerkily. When he turns to look at Stiles, he realises exactly how sad the alpha is. His eyes are red-rimmed and his face looks shallow and gaunt.

“So you know.”

“Yeah.”

There’s never been a point in lying to a werewolf anyway.

“I don’t need your pity, Stiles.”

“And I’m not pitying you. I’m just apologising for what I said. I don’t get a say in your life regardless of what position I might hold in the pack in the future. So, I’m sorry for acting entitled.”

Derek shakes his head, “Are you going to school like this today?”

Stiles knows a change in the topic when he sees one.

“I-I wasn’t planning on going.”

Derek turns his Alpha gaze on Stiles, flashing his eyes, “You know how important education is.”

Stiles huffs but turns towards the door.

“Alright, I’ll change. But you have to make me pancakes for the hard work I’m doing.”

Derek follows him in without any response. And with Derek’s track record and the inability to see his face, Stiles assumes that the lack of an answer can either be positive or negative.

-x-

Stiles runs down the stairs eager for his pancakes. Derek looks at his watch. “Hurry up, I have to go somewhere after I drop you off to school.”

Stiles lets out a garbled response with his mouth full of pancake, “Ohh where’re you going?”

Derek freezes again. And Stiles feels like he’s shot himself in the foot and eaten the foot for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

This is how their last argument had started.

Stiles swallows the bite of pancake quickly, “You- You don’t have to answer that. It’s fine.”

Derek replies slowly, “I’ll be spending the day at Laura’s.”

Stiles nods, “That’s cool. So I guess I’ll patrol in the evening with someone else?”

Derek shakes his head, “I’ll be here I think by then. So there’s no need to worry.”

Stiles bites his tongue. Derek’s been acting patronisingly protective for the past month almost. But Stiles doesn’t want to start an argument just when they’ve made up.

Derek must misconstrue his anxiety over their almost-argument, because he tries to assure him, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell the pack to protect you.”

“No thanks. They’re jerks.”

“Alright. I’ll tell them to note it down.”

“I don’t want you to tell them anything.”

“...But you want them to stay away?”

“Which I can manage on my own!” Stiles tries to control his volume and tries again, “I don’t need you and the pack hounding me all the time Derek.”

Derek holds up his hands, “Alright. You can take care of it.” Derek looks at his empty plate.

“If you’re done, can we leave?”

Stiles nods and stashes his plate away. They step out of the house and Stiles decides to take his jeep rather than sit in the Camaro.

That would leave him with no option other than driving back home with someone from the pack.

Thankfully, Derek doesn’t say anything. When they reach the school Derek stops his car outside the parking lot.

When Stiles pulls into his space, however, he realises that Derek must have already spoken to the pack. Their cars and bikes are here, but the pack isn’t sitting in their usual place each the main doors of the school.

Throughout the day, the pack stays away from Stiles for more than usual. No one walks into his stall in the bathroom when he “takes too long”. But that doesn’t mean that the betas aren’t paying attention to him. Wherever he goes, whatever he does, Stiles can constantly feel the back of his neck prickle due to their stares.

As the only spark in the pack, and also it’s emissary, Stiles knows that he has to deal with the pack being protective, but he didn’t think that it would ever get this bad.

Stiles gets in his car and drives home in relative silence. With his father at the station, the house is quiet and empty.

Stiles sits down to get some actual work done for the first time in the week.

-x-

Stiles doesn’t expect the doorbell to ring half an hour before Derek’s supposed to take him for the patrol.

Stiles doesn’t expect the pack to be on the other side of the door. The seven teenagers are standing in his porch, where usually even Stiles and his father find it difficult to stand, shoulder to shoulder.

“Hey, Stiles. We’re sorry that we treated you like you couldn’t handle yourself.”

“Derek’s sent you, hasn’t he?” Stiles asks shortly.

Allison shakes her head, “No we haven’t spoken to him about this. We just felt like he had to apologise.”

Stiles thinks about giving them shit more, but that’s when his eyes land on their hands. They bring pizzas, games and curly fries ...Stiles’ mind goes into its primal state.

Stiles only realises something’s wrong when halfway through his second COD game with Allison. He stands up abruptly, his controller clatters to the floor.

“What’s the time?”

His phone flickers to life. 9:30 p.m.

“Shit.”

The phone screen glares back, the time changing to 9:31 p.m.

Stiles looks at the pack, who are all failing at looking nonchalant.

“Why hasn’t Derek called me?”

Over the past three days (honestly speaking, Derek always does this, but now it’s far more frequent), Derek messages and calls him when Stiles isn’t where he promised to be. Stiles doesn’t want to decide how much time Derek can spend at Laura’s grave, but usually, the alpha doesn’t like staying around the burnt house or his sister’s grave for longer than a few minutes.

This is extremely weird.

Scott can’t lie ever, so Stiles focuses on him.

“Why hasn’t he called?”

Scott looks away, “Uhh- I don’t know? Maybe the hunter got him?”

For a moment, Stiles’ heart stutters, before he pulls himself away from the panic. Scott is obviously lying. Nothing’s happened to Derek.

“You’re lying.”

Scott deflates. Lydia throws Stiles abandoned controller at Scott, “Don’t even say that as a lousy excuse.”

Stiles turns to everyone else, “Tell me honestly, what’s wrong with him. He’s been acting very weird since the day before yesterday.”

The entire pack shares a look and Erica starts talking, but Stiles already knows that they’re going to hide something, “He didn’t want to take you out, in case the hunter attacked. So he asked us to protect you.”

Stiles scoffs, “Protect me? Excuse you, I have a bat and a spark. I can take great care of myself just fine.”

Allison puts on a sarcastic saccharine, “Really, a bat and some spells you’ve barely mastered? Against a gun-totting hunter with bows and arrows? Really Stiles, have you taken classes from Chuck Norris that we don’t know about?”

Stiles asks slowly, “How do you know what the hunter’s carrying?”

Allison covers quickly, “We all have the same weapons.”

But Stiles knows her well enough to see the lie.

“No. That’s not the truth.” Stiles stares at everyone with a piercing glare, “What. Do. You. Know?”

Scott breaks easily, “I saw him when I went on patrol.”

Scott was on the roster for the first night after Jackson had smelt the hunter. Three days. They’ve known all this for the past three days.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

Boyd shrugs, “Derek didn’t want to stress you out.”

Stiles clicks his jaw. He might be the token spark of this group, but he doesn’t need to be coddled this much.

He takes a deep breath before asking further questions. Exploding in anger is useless, especially when Derek isn’t there to bear the brunt of his wrath.

He asks, “Right, so Derek’s gone to meet this hunter?”

Lydia answers, “Yeah. There was a letter from him to Derek in the P.O. box yesterday morning. He wanted Derek to meet him behind Sadie’s right now.”

Sadie’s is Stiles’ favourite place to get curly-fries. Stiles reels himself in from the daydream about fries and focuses on the pack.

Stiles can’t stop his voice from rising, “Yesterday morning?” Stiles casts a quick voice charm on Jackson and clarifies, “You mean the day that Peter came by the loft?”

Issac quirks an eyebrow, “When was peter here?”

Stiles drops the charm and points at Jackson, “So you lied that day too!”

“Dude, Derek told me to just say something. I couldn’t not listen to him.”

Stiles shouts, “Enough. Protect Stiles, coddle him, don’t stress him out. ” The entire pack cowers in the face of his anger, “If I’m such a burden, why don’t I just leave?”

Erica and Scott grumble, “No.”

Stiles huffs, “We’re talking about this, but first we need to get the dipshit alpha back.”

Just as Stiles turns to the door, the wolves growl and jump between him and the door. They face the door, hunched into aggressive positions in their beta forms.

Stiles rolls his eyes and flicks his wrist just hard enough that the ‘wolves get shoved into the walls. He walks towards the door.  

He doesn’t have time for their drama. If the hunter already has their alpha then getting them all too isn’t going to be that difficult. He’d rather cut to the chase than go through boring diplomacy talk.

Stiles opens the door to see Derek standing on the border of the yard, in his beta form, being supported by an unknown man.

Stiles hasn’t ever been so thankful for the broken streetlight by their yard. Derek’s shift can’t be seen in the dark.

The man tries to introduce himself, “Hello, I-”

Stiles waves his introduction. The fact that he doesn’t have a gun or arrow out relegates him to a later priority.

Stiles turns his attention instead on Derek, “Where the hell were you? What is wrong with you?”

Derek glares at him but doesn’t say anything.

The man adds, “I’m extremely sorry. He won’t be able to answer you right now.”

Stiles turns to him, pulling his spark up so that it’s visible under his skin, “What have you done to him?”

The pack walks out of the house slowly. The ‘wolves have their claws out, Allison has her crossbow and Lydia stands behind them all.

The man falters, “It was an honest mistake. The alpha assumed I was here to ask for a fight, so he attacked me, I had to sedate him so that he wouldn’t be able to move.”

Stiles glowers and the man adds, “Don’t worry. It’s Orkile, not Wolfsbane.”

Allison asks, using her knowledge of the intricacies of Werewolf and Hunter interaction, “Hello Hunter, I am Allison Argent, a beta of the Hale pack.” The man raises an eyebrow at the name, but it’s more curious rather than condescending, “What is your business with our pack? You have returned our alpha, if you have no further purpose, take leave.”

The man nods. Clearly, he understands Allison better than he does Stiles. The man nods his head, “Hello, Allison Argent. I am Anthony Woodrow, a supernatural healer.”

Allison’s voice hardens, “The Hale Pack does not appreciate lies. How can a healer carry wolfsbane.”

The man replies confidently, “I may be a healer by nature, but I am not willing to sacrifice my safety for any reason.”

Allison narrows her eyes, “Very well. State your purpose.”

The man nods again and turns towards Stiles, “Alpha-mate Hale, I am here to ask for forgiveness for having harmed your Alpha.”

Stiles hears the pack’s collective intake of breath. He tilts his head and speaks slowly, “My name is Stiles Stilinski.”

The man repeats, “Very well. I stand here to ask you forgiveness, Alpha-mate Stiles.”

Stiles shakes his head, “What the hell is an alpha-mate?”

The man stares at Derek in surprise.

Derek is unable to do anything other than stare at the   ̶h̶u̶n̶t̶e̶r̶  healer sullenly.

The man sighs and turns to Stiles, “I must have misspoken. I ask your forgiveness, Stiles Stilinski, beta of Hale pack.”

Stiles concentrates on forming a barrier to confine the healer in place.

“No, this isn’t going to fly. You,” Stiles points at Anthony, “are coming in, to explain whatever the fuck an alpha-mate is. And you,” He points to Derek, “are going to take the potion I brew and listen to my rant.”

Stiles walks into the house. The entire pack is sitting on the porch looking anywhere but at Derek and Stiles. As they make their way in, Stiles says, “You guys will also get a nice lecture. But right now you can go home and get some sleep. I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

The pack shuffles out of the house slowly. Derek glares at them until they’re out of sight.

Stiles takes the hunter and Derek to the kitchen. Making Derek lie down on the counter, with a swift flick of his wrist as Anthony makes himself comfortable on one of the chairs.

Stiles begins preparing the antidote and takes out his mortar and pestle. He looks at Anthony, “Where’d you hit him?”

Anthony points to Derek’s jaw, where a red welt is visible. Stiles nods, “Right. Also, please start talking. Fair warning, it better not be bullshit or I will end you.”

Anthony starts, “Were-animals are born from the Greek myth of soulmates. Due to the lack of a full soul, Weres are more in contact with their animal side.”

Stiles interrupts Anthony, “Right, yeah. I’ve read the introduction to Werewolves in the bestiary too, Anthony. Get to the important bit.”

“That is the important bit.”

Stiles drops the pestle into the mortar with a loud clatter, “I’m sorry, what?”

Anthony replies with a question. The more they interact the more he reminds Stiles of Deaton, “I just said it, Alpha Stiles, you are the other half of Alpha Hale’s soul.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, “Give me a moment to process this.”

He goes over everything he’s read and what Anthony is telling him as he takes the fine paste out of the mortar and adds a few herbs to it.

Stiles takes the mix and slowly applies it to Derek’s jaw. It should cool his skin very quickly because of the mint.  

Stiles runs his fingers over Derek’s jaw, willing his skin to absorb the ointment quickly. When the green paste slowly starts disappearing, Stiles pats his jaw comfortingly and looks up.

Anthony is staring back at him intently. Stiles sighs, “Right, so first off, quit calling me alpha or whatever, it’s Stiles, okay? And secondly, why am I Derek’s soulmate. If what you’re saying is true, shouldn’t he stop shifting or something? I mean he has known me for months now.”

Anthony shakes his head, “No Al-Stiles, the concept of mates isn’t as arbitrary as you’re making it out to be. Soulmates aren’t a divine pre-determined individual. The werewolf can choose it’s own mate subconsciously. But at the same time, you must realise that being a werewolf is as much a part of Alpha Hale’s DNA as being a human is in other people. Finding a soulmate rarely ever leads to the wolf retreating from the subconscious.”

Stiles asks his next question, “So why haven’t I read about this in any bestiary?”

Anthony replies, “You forget, most bestiaries are made by hunters who are more interested in killing Weres than understanding their way of life.”

Stiles’ eyes skitter down to Derek’s face, which is still resolutely stiff. He knows that Anthony’s dart of Orkile is just as harmful to a werewolf as a sprained ankle, but seeing Derek like this doesn’t comfort him at all.”

Stiles pulls his spark up once more, even though Deaton’s warning echos in his head, always let your magic replenish.

He wills Derek’s skin to absorb the ointment again.

Anthony gestures to Stiles’ hand, which is cupping Derek’s jaw, “This is what I’m talking about!”

“What?”

Anthony persists, “How many of your other pack members can you do this for?”

Stiles looks up sharply, “Are you trying to imply that I don’t help my pack?”

Anthony almost yells in fear, “No! I did not mean that at all. Quite the opposite. You must realise how easy it is to imbue the alpha with your magic.”

“So?”

“You are compatible.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Look man, when Derek wakes up, he’ll explain everything to you. You’re just confused.”

Stiles looks down at Derek who is glaring daggers at Anthony. This explanation is going to include quite a unique selection of swear words as well. Stiles stares at Derek for a moment more.

Anthony says softly, “He will heal in a while. The paralysis will pass soon, your medicine will have helped him greatly.”

Stiles presses his fingers against Derek’s jaw and moves to sit in front of Anthony. He asks, “Why are you here, though? As far as I know, healers can only be called by supernatural beings can call you. And I am not aware of anyone who might have contacted you.” He feels foolish to have forgotten that there isn’t just a single breed of humans who are aware of the supernatural. Hunters only make up a small percentage of them. Healers are often called upon by the supernatural world, not just for the remedies they provide but also as mediators.

“A group of fae have set up a haunt outside the county’s border. They called upon me for assistance.”

“But why did you have to enter the county?”

“They asked me to speak to the Spark of Beacon Hills to allow them entry into the preserve.”

“Why can’t they come in?”

Anthony gapes at him, before replying wondrously, “How can you have such a loose grasp of your powers?”

Stiles frowns and pokes the man’s arm from across the table, “Can you explain anything without insulting me every two seconds?”

Anthony as good as falls to his knees, eager to apologise, “I am sorry-”

Stiles interrupts him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get it, you’re sorry. Can we please skip to the part where you give me some important information?”

Anthony takes a moment to compose himself before he says, “Stiles, you have cast a magical barrier around your pack’s territory subconsciously.”

“But why would that happen?”

When Anthony gives his answer, Stiles has already anticipated it.

“As the Alpha’s mate, you are tied to the land of the pack. So, your magic has extended itself to unjust protect the pack but also the territory. Much like the wards you have cast around the loft, this boundary does not allow any unknown supernatural creatures into your territory. I was hoping when the Alpha recovered, you could come with me to meet the fae and allow them entry into your pack lands.”

Stiles feels a little wary, but he doesn’t decline straight away, “Alright. We’ll look into it once Derek’s healed.”

Stiles tries to process their conversation. Even though he’s known Anthony for a few minutes barely, the healer had taught him things that Deaton never mentioned. Stiles doesn’t understand if it’s a selfishly motivated decision or another thing that the pack wants to hide from him. Before Stiles can think of asking Anthony any new questions, Derek wakes up with a groan.

Stiles moves to his side quickly, helping him lie down more comfortably.

“Are you feeling better?”

Derek replies slowly, “Yeah, I think so.”

Stiles sighs, “Good.” He might be upset with the ‘wolf, but he doesn’t want the guy to be in pain.

He bustles off to the other corner of the kitchen to get a glass of water for the alpha.

When he turns around, Derek’s glaring at Anthony, who’s tucked himself away in the other corner of the kitchen.

Stiles feels anxious. He doesn’t know what he wants to hear. On one hand, being Derek’s soulmate is the best thing that can ever happen to him. But also, is it going to be worth it if Derek doesn’t even like him like that.

Somehow the fact that they’re destined to be together doesn’t feel too magical. Stiles can only focus on the fact that Derek’s choice is being taken away from him.

Stiles tries to ignore the issue at hand as he pushes the glass of water into Derek’s hand. He doesn’t even know how to start the conversation. Hey Derek, this stranger who shot you says that I’m your soulmate. What do you think?

Anthony looks at Derek meekly as he sets down his glass.

“I am truly sorry Alpha. I wrongly assumed that Stiles-”

Derek cut him off with a threatening growl and Anthony amends quickly, “I wrongly assumed that Alpha-mate Stilinski knew of his status. I am sorry for the strife I might cause you.”

Derek glowers at the healer, without giving a reply. Stiles asks slowly, “Derek, he’s made a mistake, right?”

Derek sighs and turns towards him. The alpha’s face turns apologetic. Stiles thinks he knows what’s about to happen.

“Stiles, he’s right. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before but I didn’t know what to say. Just, I hope we can remain friends.”

Stiles sucks in a deep breath. Every word from Derek’s mouth feels like a punch to the gut. Only his luck can be such that he gets everything he wants but in such a twisted way. He can’t even begin to care around the stink of misery that might be emanating from him. Derek didn’t want him to such an extent that the alpha didn’t even give him a choice.

Siles feels like laughing at himself. A year back, being rejected by Lydia had felt like the end of the world. But this feels like a new low. How many people can say that their soulmate friend-zoned them?

Stiles confirms what’s just happened, “But don’t soulmates have to be...Ya’ know?”

Derek replies slowly, like it pains him to say it, “Souldbonds can be platonic as well.”

Stiles nods, His heart sinking, “So nothing changes.”

“Nothing.”

Anthony’s eyes rove over them, as though he wants to say something. But Derek’s growl cuts him off.

“Hey, growly wolf, play nice. He isn’t trying to kill us.”

Derek’s reply is irritated, “Somehow, the lack of a death threat doesn’t make getting tranqed and paralysed any easier.”

Stiles tries to play it cool, both with his moping and his anger. Anthony might not be a threat, but, Stiles doesn’t want to unnecessarily expose his pack’s liabilities to the man. So, he plays the role of a good emissary and beta, hoping that he’s doing a good enough job of being the alpha-mate as well, without having any reference to go by.

Stiles also knows that he’s going to have all his life to mope about his bond with Derek, but that won’t change anything. The only thing he can do now is, to be the best possible alpha-mate he can be for Derek. Even if that’s as a friend.

Anthony bows his head at Derek, “I am truly sorry my actions, Alpha Hale.”

Stiles interrupts before they can get carried away further, “Alright. That’s enough. When are you going to take me to the fae?”

Anthony nods, “I would be more than willing to take you this instant.”

Derek clambers off the counter, “I’m coming too.”

The three of them walk out of the house. Anthony swings his leg over his bike and tells them, “Please follow me, till the county’s boundary.”

Stiles and Derek get into the jeep. Anthony starts his bike and Stiles follows him.

Derek mumbles a few minutes later, “You might have wondered why Deaton didn’t tell you about this… I was the one who told him not to tell you, Stiles. I didn’t know how to tell you about this. So I thought ignoring it might be the best-”

Stiles can’t help the mirthless chuckle that escapes him, “I love how that’s your go-to solution for any problem that has to do with me… Derek, I don’t want explanations for what Deaton did or didn’t do. I want to know why you made up the fact that Peter was around. What did you think that was going to achieve? Like, do you even know me? Did you ever stop to think, oh I wonder what must be going through Stiles’ head? If you didn’t want me knowing, all you had to do was tell me not to ask, or tell me that you don’t trust me. Look, Derek, I don’t care how you run the pack. Whatever Anthony might say, at the end of the day, you’re the alpha. But I only want to know, if you don’t trust me, then why keep me around?”

Derek whines low in his throat at that, “Stiles that’s not what this is about, I -”

Stiles holds up his hand. He can’t listen to Derek give him some half baked lie again.

“Derek, please. I’m really upset. Let’s just get this fae stuff over with.”

Anthony stops his bike a few meters out of the county’s boundary on the side of the road. Stiles rolls down his window as they approach him, “Why’d you stop?”

Anthony points to a thick growth of jungle behind him, “The fae live there. I would have asked you to cast a spell that allowed us to tale the vehicles, but I don’t want to endanger them.”

Stiles nods, “Okay.”

He steps out of the jeep, Derek two steps behind him. Stiles follows the healer into the ferns. As they walk deeper into the forest, Stiles goes over everything he’s ever read about faeries. They are supposed to be these eternally young creatures and they have really strict rules of interaction. Stiles remembers how Chris had coached them when they had assumed that faeries where attacking Beacon Hills. There had been a lot of “pleasure to meet you”s and “It’s our honour”s, reminding Stiles of the time in 9th grade when the school theatre group had organised Pride and Prejudice. But Stiles doesn’t know what to expect when he sees the fae.  

In the ned, the clan of fae is nothing like what Stiles expects. They don’t look sparkly or shiny, they aren’t wearing leaves for clothes. They’re just miniature flying humans, albeit dressed like teenagers from Y.A. novels, with their leather jackets and combat boots and the scars on their bodies.

Stiles tries to remind himself that they aren’t as young as they look.

Anthony leads them from one corner of the clearing in which the fae have set up camp, to the other edge. In between, they pass many small campfires.

A fae, who seems to be the head of this clan, is sitting on the lower branch of a tree. The three of them stop a few feet away and bow. Stiles thanks the stars, the moon and whichever god is looking down on them that this time, he doesn’t have Scott with him as he meets a new supernatural creature. The guy understands social cues slower than even Stiles. It feels great to have an alpha with him who doesn’t need directions whispered into his ear constantly.

“Hello Alpha and Alpha-mate Hale. I am Henriette, the leader of the Californian clan of the fae. Welcome to our humble abode.”

Stiles replies, “Thank you for inviting us, Henriette, for the pleasure is all ours. How may we be of service to you?”

“I assume Anthony has told you of our request? We would like a passage through your lands to travel north.”

Stiles nods, “Yes I am willing to lower the wards for you.”

Henriette directs her next question to Derek, “I also seek the permission of the Alpha to moe through his territory.”

Derek bows his head and replies, “I permit you. The county of Beacon Hills will remain open to any member of the Californian clan of the fae.”

Henriette looks at Derek like he’s some weird sort of side-show, “I do not understand, How can you open your lands to others so freely?”

What Derek says next makes Stiles melt into a mushy puddle.

“I have heard of the prosecution you face for your lifestyle, Henriette. I too have faced similar issues. So, I would like to extend my territory as a haven for those who require it.”

Henriette flits down from her position on the branch and floats towards them, “Thank you Alpha and Alpha0mate Hale, for your kindness.”

Stile nods, “I will lower the shields now, if you are willing, please follow us to the border of the county.”

Stiles, Anthony and Derek walk out of the forest slowly, with a horde of Faeries following them.

The drive back to the border is silent. Stiles can feel Derek staring at him, But Stiles isn’t going to do the alpha the favour of talking first.

When they reach the border, Stiles gets out of the jeep and stand with one foot inside and one outside the shield. Anthony shows up on his bike a moment later, being followed by the fae.

Henriette floats forward and the remaining clan shuffle around behind her, interested in seeing the proceedings but unwilling to upset the status quo.

Stiles concentrates on his shields and tries to make them more permeable. For a moment, his entire body seizes due to the horrible images that flood his mind. He imagines the wards falling short his pack getting murdered or mauled.

By the terror doesn’t last long. The faeries cross the shield quickly and Stiles is able to return it to its full strength.

The other faeries scatter into the woods quickly. But Henriette stays behind.

When Stiles is sufficiently stable, she starts speaking,

“I would like to repay our debt to the Hale pack for their extreme kindness and cooperation during this period.”

Derek and Stiles bow their heads softly, “Thank you, Henriette.”

Henriette flutters upwards, her skin getting the sparkly glowy look that Stiles has read about, “I call upon the Earth Goddess to protect the bond between Alpha and his alpha-mate, to make their love stronger, to make them able to take on hardships easily and to always achieve their safety.”

Stiles can feel his knees buckling and his heart thundering. The fae are known to recognise the innermost feelings of creatures. He can’t fight their blessing. He can’t say, no you’re wrong I don’t love Derek without offending the fae and spontaneously combusting into flames.

Now Derek knows. He knows that Stiles loves him.

It’s so cute, that Stiles is stuck in a one-sided soulbond.

Henriette flits away after having cast the blessing and having paid Anthony, following her clan into the forest behind her clan. Anthony moves across Stiles barriers a moment after the fae are all gone.

He nods at Stiles and Derek, “It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance.”

-x-

Stiles and Derek get int the jeep again, in absolute silence.

Derek clears his throat when they’re about to reach the end of the preserve, “About what the faery said...”

Stiles replies aggressively, “Yes Derek I do have a stupid crush on you, okay? But just because you know my feelings doesn’t mean that you get to write off my anger about not being told jackshit.”

Derek replies slowly, the tips of his ears red, “No, I’m- I’m not doing that. I just want to tell you why I did it.”

Stiles replies shortly, “What ‘it’, Derek? Hmm? Hiding the hunter in Beacon Hills? Or not letting Deaton teach me important stuff? Or, or are you going to explain why you made up the Peter problem?”

Derek sighs, “All of it. I’ll give you an explanation.”

“It better be a good reason Derek Hale, or I will intentionally pull out your guts this time.”

Derek mumbles, just loud enough for Stiles to catch it, “You’re my soulmate, Stiles.”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “So?”

“I cannot let you get hurt. I f you knew your duty as my bond, you’d start taking things up. So I asked Deaton to hide some stuff from you.”

Stiles has to make a serious effort to not crash the jeep, but his frustration is getting too much to handle, “ And what about you thinking that it was a good idea to make shit up? To tell me Peter was on the loose?”

Derek shrugs, “There wasn’t much thinking involved, but I assumed that you would at least start taking more care of yourself if you thought that a crazy murdering man was lurking around town.”

Stiles looks at Derek sharply, “Do you even know me? I dive headfirst into all danger, especially when it threatens my pack.”

Derek growls contently at Stiles’ words.

“I know that, but my wolf- It’s like whenever I shift, I want to put ou in a safe corner.”

Stiles sighs but keeps his eyes on the road, “Look, Derek, if you’re expecting me to swoon for the possessive alpha shtick, it isn’t going to happen.”

Derek shakes his head vehemently, “No, Stiles, that isn’t what I want. I just needed you to know why I did all that stuff, even if the why doesn't make too much sense.”

Stiles sighs, “You know what this means, right?”

Derek sighs. From the corner of his eye, Stiles sees his eyebrows scrunch up in dismay.

“Yeah. I’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning. You won’t have to see me again.”

Jeez. Derek does not know what Stiles was going to say at all.

“Dude, stop the I hate myself train for a moment. I’m not asking you to fuck off. I like you.

Derek looks at him like he’s the one who’s lost his mind. Which, when Stiles ponders on, is true enough, because which idiot willingly associates with werewolves when he has nothing to do with them and then falls in love with one of them too?

“Then what do you want?”

“I will need a new teacher. Deaton's an okay person and I know what ack laws state. But I need my own teacher who doesn’t have any previous relations to the pack, someone who will not try to lie to me.”

Stiles interrupts the alpha before he can even complain, “And you don’t get to decide who the teacher will be either.”

Derek mutters, “But what if the teacher turns out to be a hunter? Or a Darach?”

Wow, Derek, projecting much? But Stiles doesn’t say anything.

“Then we’ll deal with that problem when it comes like we always do.”

Derek asks, with a small smile on his lips, “Together?”

Stiles nods, smiling back, “Together.”

Derek asks slowly, “But what about everything else?”

Stiles quirks his head to the side, “What else is there?”

“You know, what the faery said.”

Stiles chuckles, “Oh that? I’ll come by to take you out at 7 this Saturday, That okay with you?”

Derek asks softly, “So does this mean that you’re not pulling my guts out?”

Stiles smirks back, “The judgement is still reserved. Stay on your best behaviour, Alpha.”

Derek growls at his words, But it’s a weird satisfied cat-ish growl that Derek rarely makes.

“It kills me when you say that. I just-”

“What?” Stiles asks, amusedly.

“You’re driving, I don’t want to distract you.” Derek answers shortly, turning to look out of the window, under the collar of his henley, Derek’s neck looks red.

Stiles isn’t going to let this go. He stops the jeep on a shoulder in the road, “Now you can tell me what you wanted to say, right?”

For the lack of a better word Derek looks like a deer caught in headlights. But Stiles knows what he was about to say, so Stiles smirks softly.

“How about you show me, rather than saying it out loud?”

Stiles doesn’t expect the alpha to take him up on it. The last coherent thought Stiles has that night is that maybe  Derek was the best student when it came to doing “show and tell”s in school.

[taexual]

EXO / Mafia AU - They find out their S/O is pregnant

Request: Can I request an EXO mafia au where their wife finds out she’s pregnant (she’s happy about it) and he starts to get worried because she’s acting a little different but really she’s just nervous and excited to tell him and what his reaction is to knowing.

ahh it’s been so long since i wrote about exo, i missed this

WARNING: some mentions of violence

OTHER MAFIA AUs: BTS / EXO / GOT7

Xiumin

As you watched the pregnancy test in your hand, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. I mean, it’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to stay safe, but you were surely not expecting to get pregnant, either. Tears started to form in your eyes for some reason. You weren’t sure if those tears were sad or happy yet.

“Y/n?” Minseok’s voice on the other side of the bathroom door startled you and you almost dropped the pregnancy test into the toilet. “Are you alright? You’ve been in there for a while.”

A million thoughts flashed through your mind at once. Should you tell him? What will he say? What if he—

“Y/n?” Minseok called out again and you heard him hit the door with something heavy, presumably his shoulder. “I’ll break the door down if you don’t answer.”

Of course he’ll break the door down.

Sniffling and brushing the tears away from your eyes as quickly as you could, you unlocked the door, not wanting to have to deal with the consequences of a broken door.

Minseok noticed that something was definitely wrong as soon as his eyes met yours. “Are you crying? What happened?”

Instead of saying anything, you just extended the pregnancy test to him. Confused, Minseok grabbed the stick from you, looking at the two lines in confusion.

“W-what is this?” he asked, looking at you again. “What does this mean?”

You took a deep breath before answering him. “It means that I’m pregnant.”

Minseok just watched you for a moment, not blinking, not breathing, and not thinking.

“W-we’re having a child?” he asked after a good minute.

“I don’t know,” you said, feeling the tears return at the sight of his unreadable reaction. “These tests aren’t always reliable and—”

“I’m calling the hospital,” Minseok said, interrupting you and basically running down the hallway to his bedroom where he had left his phone in.

“Minseok, you—wait, it’s Sunday!” you called after him. “My doctor isn’t working on—”

“I’ll make him work,” Minseok yelled back from his room. “We’re finding out if we’re going to be parents today.”

Panicking again, you followed him to his room.

“Okay,” you said, nervously. You needed to find out his thoughts on your possible pregnancy. “What if we are?”

“If we are,” Minseok said, slowly, while he dialed the number of the hospital. “Then I’m putting you on bedrest for nine months and making sure every single person in this house treats the mother of my child like a queen.”

Suho

As soon as your doctor confirmed that you were pregnant after you consulted him because of your nausea, you felt like you were going to faint. You had thought you’d just eaten something and the missing period could have been explained by the stress you’ve been feeling lately. Somehow, as you now realized, you used every possible explanation for your symptoms, but pregnancy. There was no way you could have been pregnant. And yet, you were.

“Mum,” you said into the phone as you walked out of the doctor’s office. “The doctor told me something serious. No, no! It’s not that. I’m… I’m pregnant. I haven’t told—”

“You’re pregnant?” Junmyeon’s voice startled you so much, you dropped your phone from your hands.

Staring at him outside of your doctor’s room, you felt fear mix with anxiety in your stomach. You were speechless as you watched Junmyeon pick your phone up. It hadn’t broken, but it turned off.

“Y/n,” Junmyeon said, handing the phone to you. “Is that true?”

“W-why are you here?” you asked, taking the phone from his hands, but before you could move your hand away, Junmyeon grabbed it in his.

“I found out that you weren’t feeling well and went to see a doctor, so I came here to be there for you,” Junmyeon explained and then swallowed deeply. “Are you really pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you replied, looking down, feeling guilty for some reason. “The doctor just told me.”

Junmyeon squeezed your hand and used his other hand to lift your chin up to get you to look up at him again.

“Why do you sound sad about that?” he asked you. “That’s great, isn’t it?”

“I-it is?” you asked. “I mean, we weren’t really planning that… I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“You were afraid of my reaction?” Junmyeon asked, surprise evident in his voice. “Y/n, what are you talking about? How else would I react? I’m ecstatic. We’re expecting a child. A child, Y/n! Our child!”

The wide smile on his face caused you to smile back. “We are. We’re going to have a child.”

Pulling you closer by the hand that he was holding, he wrapped his arms around you tightly. As you hugged him back, you felt something in the pocket of his leather jacket hitting your hip.

“Junmyeon…” you whispered. “Did you bring a gun to the hospital?”

“Oh,” Junmyeon said, pulling away from you slightly. “Yeah. Just a precaution in case someone decided to give you trouble here. Like an angry nurse, or something. But… I guess I should start carrying two guns now, huh? One for the protection of you, and another one for our future child.”

Lay

You’ve always loved kids, so when you found out that you were actually having one of your own, you were over the moon about it. The only problem was the fact that Yixing was working out of town and you didn’t want to give him this news over the phone. You wanted to see his reaction and find out if he was as excited as you were.

The longer you waited for him to come home, though, the more you started to worry. There was the possibility that he could have thought that now was not the time to have a child. Perhaps he thought he was too busy. Perhaps he never even wanted to have children with you. It wasn’t like the two of you discussed starting a family, you just enjoyed each other’s company, and that was it.

This fear that Yixing was going to react to your pregnancy in a negative way caused you to react irrationally. Instead of telling him right away once he returned home, you pretended that nothing happened, deciding to drag this on for as long as possible. Maybe in the meantime, he’d give you a hint about wanting children.

One evening, the two of you were strolling down a park because you weren’t feeling well and Yixing insisted you needed to get some fresh air. But he refused to let you go alone.

As you walked past a playground, a few children jumped off the swing and towards their mothers. You watched them with a smile on your face and Yixing was quick to notice that.

“That’s really inappropriate of those mothers,” he commented then. “It’s eight o’clock. These kids should be in bed.”

You whipped your head around to look at him and considered your next words very carefully. “You sound like you’d be a strict father.”

“Well, of course,” Yixing said. “I’d want my kids to be well-behaved. They’re the representation of me, after all.”

Your heart was beating really fast all of a sudden. You stopped walking. Yixing looked at you, concern in his eyes.

“Is everything—” he started to ask but you cut him off.

“Yixing,” you started. “What if I told you that you might have a chance to put yourself in the position of a father?”

He frowned in confusion. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m…” you hesitated, biting your lip. “I’m pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Yixing repeated, his shock turning into excitement within seconds. “Are you serious? Please tell me you are. You can’t be joking with me like that.”

“I-I’m serious.”

“Oh, my God!” he was basically yelling now, as he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him. “How long have you known? Is this why you weren’t feeling well? Oh, God, are you taking any vitamins? Have you seen a doctor?”

You laughed at the amount of questions he fired in just a few seconds. “I’m fine, Yixing. I’ve known for… for a few weeks now.”

“You can explain to me why you didn’t tell me right away when we get home,” Yixing was now pulling you back towards the house. “There’s a lot of car fumes here. It’s unsafe for you and the baby.”

“I thought we went out for fresh air.”

“There’s fresh air inside,” he said. “And much less danger, too. Actually, shouldn’t you be resting? It’s already eight.”

You groaned realizing that not only was he going to be a strict father for his children, but he was going to be strictly watching over you, too.

Baekhyun

You’ve known for a while. You’ve just never seen Baekhyun long enough to have this serious conversation with him. He was out working on the field nearly every day and whenever he returned home, you were already sleeping.

This went on for weeks. The fact that he still didn’t know about your pregnancy even though you found out about this nearly a month ago was slowly starting to drive you insane. Not only that, but it was also dimming your excitement about the birth of your child. The fact that Baekhyun was barely around – because he was busy shooting people – made you realize that you might be the only constant figure in your child’s life.

Finally, when Baekhyun had a day off, he insisted the two of you went out for dinner because you haven’t done that in so long. He took you to your favorite restaurant and as the waiter arrived to take your order, Baekhyun – wanting to show off – cited your entire order from memory.

“Actually, no,” you said. “I’d like to have a look at the menu if that’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” the waiter replied, disappearing for a moment to get the menus.

Baekhyun frowned at you. “What’s that about? You always order the same thing here.”

“Yeah, maybe my taste changed,” you shrugged your shoulders.

“How come?” Baekhyun asked.

“Maybe because I’m pregnant.”

“Maybe because you’re—what?” Baekhyun watched you, various calculations running through his head. “Are you saying you think you’re pregnant?”

“I don’t think,” you said. “I know I’m pregnant.”

Baekhyun was left speechless. He saw the waiter come back with the menus through his peripheral vision, and he glared at the poor guy, making him nod in response and turn around, choosing to come back to your table later.

“You’re pregnant?” Baekhyun said, a little quieter. He reached for your hand over the table, but you moved it before he could take it. “W-what’s wrong?”

“I’ve known this for more than a month,” you said. “You’ve barely been around. Actually, you were never around. Whenever you leave for work, I never know if you’ll come back. I wouldn’t even know if you’re dead because you come home and leave again while I’m still asleep. I don’t want the first thing our child hears is the news that his father is dead.”

This was a lot for Baekhyun to take in. You realized, you probably shouldn’t have told him all of this at once, but the feelings were bottling up inside of you and they finally exploded. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

As you watched distress descend on Baekhyun’s face, you realized tears were forming in your eyes.

“Y/n,” Baekhyun said, standing up from the chair opposite you and walking around the table to wrap his arms around you. “I would never put myself in danger like that. I would never miss seeing our child grow up.”

“But your job, Baekhyun…”

“I know,” Baekhyun said, pulling away from you and squatting in front of you instead. “I can promise you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I’m around you every day. My job won’t get in front of that. I promise you, I’d never leave you or… our child. Or children. However many we have in the future.”

Chen

Jongdae loved you more than life itself, so he went out of his way to protect you from everything. Even things he had no power over – like the nausea that woke you up three nights in a row.

“Babe, are you sure you didn’t eat anything bad?” Jongdae asked as he held your hair back while you were still heaving and holding onto the toilet bowl. “Maybe it was the—”

“I didn’t, Dae,” you said. “You didn’t have to wake up with me.”

“But of course I did,” Jongdae said, leaning down to brush a few hair strands from your face. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

You sat down on the cold bathroom floor after a moment. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

His heart broke as he heard the sadness and fear in your voice. Next thing he did, was call the hospital, not caring that it was 4am. You were sure he threatened a few doctors because when you got to the hospital an hour later, the doctors were incredibly nice to you, and refused to look Jongdae in the eye.

A few more hours later, the doctor invited you back into his office, letting you know that the results showed that you weren’t sick at all. Both you and Jongdae breathed a sigh of relief. The doctor continued, however, and told you that your nausea was actually caused by pregnancy.

You froze, not believing what you were hearing. “I-I’m pregnant?”

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed. “For a few months already. I’m surprised you didn’t notice earlier.”

“I have an irregular cycle,” you said. “I thought I was just stressed or something, and—”

“So, what do we do now?” Jongdae asked the doctor and you felt his grip on your hand tighten. “Do we need to be taking any special precautions?”

“No, not really,” the doctor replied, watching you instead of Jongdae. “Just rest well, don’t forget to eat and stay hydrated. If you have any questions, you can, uh, call me anytime.”

Jongdae surely took that advice seriously, preparing to get the doctor out of bed everytime he was afraid for your health. You thanked the doctor and apologized for the inconvenience before exiting his office into the empty hallway.

“Dae, we should—”

Your words got stuck in your throat because as soon as you opened your mouth, Jongdae wrapped his arms around you in a surprise-hug that nearly knocked you off your feet.

“You’re okay,” he said. “Actually, you’re more than okay. You’re pregnant.”

“Y-yeah, I am,” you said, hugging him back. “Are you excited?”

“Are you kidding?” Jongdae replied, hugging you tighter and then retreating all of a sudden. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I squeeze you too hard? What if I did something to the baby? I should learn to be more careful. Oh, God, and remember that broken chair we have in our house? What if you hurt yourself with it? I’m going to have to look around the whole house to make sure—”

“Dae,” you said, laughing. “Don’t get ahead of yourself now. We’ll be fine. How about we just stay excited for a few more minutes?”

Jongdae smiling, noticing the joy in your eyes, and carefully wrapped his arms around you again. “We’ll stay excited for the rest of our lives, my love.”

Chanyeol

Chanyeol actually didn’t even find out from you. He found out from his mother, who was the one who found you throwing up in the bathroom and suggested that perhaps you were pregnant. She went out to get you a pregnancy test and stayed with you while you waited to find out the truth.

After the two stripes lit up, you asked her not to tell Chanyeol and promised to tell him tonight, but then you ended up feeling really sick again and fell asleep before he returned home from a meeting with some businessmen.

When you woke up the next morning, Chanyeol was no longer in bed. Smiling because you realized today would be the day you’d tell him the news, you got out of bed. But before you could take a single step, the door of the bedroom flew open and a distraught Chanyeol burst inside, falling to his knees in front of you as you watched him in shock.

“Chanyeol, what—”

He grabbed your hand into his, watching you for a moment before speaking. “Are you really pregnant?”

Your stomach sunk. “W-who told you?”

“My mum just congratulated me with tears in her eyes,” Chanyeol said. “Is that true?”

“Yes,” you said. “I asked her not to tell you but I guess she thought I already had.”

“God,” Chanyeol breathed, bringing both of your hands to his lips to place quick kisses on your knuckles. “I can’t believe this.”

Having a hard time understanding what his reaction was, you leaned down until you were kneeling in front of him, too, so now you were sort of the same height.

“We’re going to have a child,” Chanyeol said, tears glistening in his eyes. “You and I. We’ll be parents. Parents of a tiny human. Our tiny human.”

You laughed at this, still surprised to see Chanyeol – the man who controlled guns better than anyone you’ve ever known – getting so emotional.

“Are you happy?” you asked him, quietly.

“I’m more than happy, Y/n,” he said, pulling you closer to him, so he could give you a hug. “Thank you.”

“Why are you thanking me?” you asked, laughing again. “It’s not just me who’s responsible for this, you know.”

“I know,” Chanyeol nodded, placing his chin on your shoulder afterwards. “But you’re the only person I’ve ever imagined a future with. You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted a family with. I love you so much. Thank you for allowing me to share this experience with you.”

D.O.

Kyungsoo sort of had his suspicions. He saw you get nauseated every morning. He noticed you’ve started to eat weird variations of food. He also noticed that you got tired after the slightest physical activity. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that all of these were symptoms of pregnancy.

Kyungsoo didn’t want to get ahead of himself, though, so he waited.

Meanwhile, you thought Kyungsoo was clueless and you tried to come up with a way to tell him that you were pregnant. You were excited about that but you were also nervous. You’ve never had to tell anyone news like this before, and you weren’t sure what words to use or how to even start that conversation.

“Soo?” you called out for him one morning.

“In here!” he replied from the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, you started to make your way over there, practicing the speech you had prepared in your head.

“I need to tell you something,” you said, once you saw Kyungsoo cutting some vegetables with his back turned to you. “I’ve been trying to find the right way to say this for a long time and I figure the best way would be to just tell you, so here goes. I’m—”

“You’re pregnant, right?” Kyungsoo interrupted you, turning around so he could look at you.

You frowned. “How did you know?”

Kyungsoo smiled. “So, you are?”

Awkwardly, you nodded.

“I knew it,” he said, leaning against the counter separating the two of you. “I was wondering how long it’d take you to tell me.”

“I-I didn’t know how,” you admitted. “I’ve obviously never been in a situation like this before.”

“Me neither,” Kyungsoo said. “In all honesty, I’m not even sure what the purpose of babies is or how we’re supposed to raise one. Children are not my specialty. But I’m willing to learn.”

“You are?” you asked, a smile spreading across your face.

“Of course,” Kyungsoo nodded. “When our child grows up, I’ll teach him – or her – how to ride a bike. How to hold a gun. How to—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said, waving your hand. “You’re not giving our child a gun, Soo.”

“I’m not?”

“Never!”

“But it’s my child, too,” Kyungsoo said, “And that means that he or she will inherit all of this,” he gestured around the kitchen and you instinctively looked around. “I don’t mean this literally. I mean my job. The leading position in the Mafia.”

“Okay, well, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” you said, swallowing. You were already shivering just at the thought of your future child putting himself in danger because that was what Kyungsoo wanted the child to do. “How about you tell me how you’ll teach our child to ride a bike in the meantime.”

Kai

Jongin has mentioned once or twice before how he had thought about having children with you, though the two of you never specifically tried to have any. However, when you found out that you were in fact already pregnant, you had to cover your mouth with your hand so you wouldn’t scream out in joy.

“Jongin!” you called out immediately.

Jongin was startled by your screech. Thinking that something happened to you, he grabbed his gun, and almost broke down the door of your bedroom.

“Y/n!” he shouted. “What happened?!”

“I’m—why do you have that thing?” you asked, turning around to face him and noticing the pistol in his hands.

Jongin lowered the gun once he saw that it was just you in the room. “I thought something happened. Why did you call my name?”

“Because I have something to tell you,” you said, frowning. “Not because I’m being killed.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” he asked, putting the gun into the back of his pants. “So, what is it?”

Sighing because this whole thing caused you to forget what you wanted to say, you sat down on the bed, patting the bed next to you, so he’d sit down. He did.

“Okay, so the thing is…” you started awkwardly. “I just found out about ten minutes ago that I’m… well, you know what happens when—ugh, no, that’s stupid. Um…”

“Y/n, what’s going on?” Jongin asked, a confused expression on his face. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Okay, sorry,” you said and then took a deep breath. “So, I’m kind of pregnant.”

“K-kind of?” Jongin asked, his eyes widening in surprise. “You mean—we’re going to have a—are you serious?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I just took a test.”

“Oh my God!” he jumped off the bed. “That’s great news! That’s incredible news! We’ve talked about this before, haven’t we? I mean, I didn’t expect this day to come so soon, but I’m so glad it did!”

“Really?” you asked, feeling the way his excitement erased every remaining ounce of worry you may have had.

“Yeah!” Jongin nodded enthusiastically. “This is, like, my dream. You, me, and our child… Can you just imagine how beautiful it’s going to be? Oh God, I already love it and it’s not even born yet.”

You laughed at this. “I was a little nervous, to be honest.”

“Why would you be nervous?” Jongin asked.

“Well, we’ve only ever talked about having children in the future and… it’s kind of happening right now.”

“Y/n, don’t be ridiculous,” he said, sitting back down on the bed again. “This day is the best day of my life, and trust me, I’ve had some incredible days in the past. You would know, you were a part of all of them. You have nothing to be nervous about. Our future is going to be fantastic, I know it. And it’s even better that we started our family sooner rather than later. This way I’ll have more time to teach my child how to live life so they end up experiencing this exact amount of joy I’m feeling right now every day of their lives.”

Sehun

You were all over the place ever since you found out you were pregnant. You couldn’t find a way to tell Sehun and it was killing you. You weren’t sure if you were afraid of his reaction or just simply nervous about telling him.

He found you pacing when he returned from a job one night. You hadn’t even heard him come in, which he used to his advantage. He quickly sneaked into the bathroom to wash the blood from his shirt. The guy he had to kill stood a little too close to him and ended up splashing blood all over his clothes.

Blood was harder to remove that he thought, though, so he ended up taking the shirt off and returning to the bedroom to find you still walking back and forth, lost in your own world.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “I’m home. Are you okay?”

You stopped pacing when you heard his voice and turned to look at him, instantly forgetting everything you’ve been thinking about as soon as you saw his shirtless body in front of you.

“I—yeah,” you said, blinking to return your mind to what was important. “Why do you ask?”

“Well, for starters, you’ve been pacing,” he said, making his way closer to you and extending his hand to your neck. “And, your shirt is inside out.”

You looked down to see the label of your shirt in his hand.

“Oh,” you said. “I must have not noticed that when I was putting it on.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Sehun asked again. “You seem really off.”

Deciding that it’d be better if you told him everything now rather than waited more, you sat down on the bed and swallowed.

“I need to talk to you about something,” you said, feeling how dry your throat was all of a sudden.

“Okay,” Sehun said, frowning. “Now you’re really scaring me. What’s up?”

You took a deep breath and then, feeling as if you were confessing a sin at church, finally told him the truth. “I’m pregnant.”

Sehun gasped and remained quiet. You weren’t sure how to understand this reaction, so you turned your head to look at him in time to see him run towards you and kneel in front of you.

“Baby,” he said, taking your face into his hands. “You’re really pregnant?”

You nodded, unable to answer verbally.

“Oh, I’m so glad,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I thought something had happened to you. But you’re just—wait. You’re pregnant? Oh God, you’re pregnant!”

Sehun went through all kinds of emotions in the span of just five seconds and fear returned to your stomach.

“Are you mad?” you asked quietly.

“Mad?” Sehun asked. “Why would I be mad? We’re having a child, Y/n. This is the start of our family. Why would I be mad about that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you thought we’re not ready—”

“We might not be,” he admitted. “But we will be. We still have about nine months, right? We could start those lessons for new parents, I read about them online the other night. I actually read a lot about pregnancy. Funny, it’s as if I knew already. Anyway, we’ll be okay. More than okay, actually. We’ll be perfect.”

[archereation]

“Blane Series” 6 : Dogs weep

This is the sixth post in the Blane Series. If you are interested or confused or both, check out the first post in the series, and explore some seriously thought provoking themes!

Fuzzy at first, an image came into focus. The scene was dark except for the two characters before Blane’s eyes: milky slobber escaped from the hound’s mouth, panting humidly on the leathered skin of a queen’s toes. They were yellowed with calluses. The toe nails peeled in thin layers like moth-eaten cloth. Her dress was fine, her hair pristine, but her toes and feet were caked with dark smudges of what looked like soot. She smiled down on the dog, her teeth yellowed just like her toe nails. The dog, with swollen eyes slobbered and licked the air, as if hoping a treat would fall from her tight grasp of her delicate, white powdered hands. Then black. Deep black - snapped like a rubber band over the scene.

Then light. Blane’s eyes opened from her hard blink. She was back in reality.

She stood at the front of a desk in a cheerful office. Everything was made of rustic wood. There were cute RV figurines, pots and pans, popcorn made for fire-cooking, mugs, and everything else anyone would need for a camping adventure.

Her chest tightened as if something was trying to escape her sternum, pressing and squeezing simultaneously the organs in her upper chest cavity. A chunk rose in her throat. She took a deep breath, but the pressure was not released. Three women smiled in front of her. An onlooker gazing in from the window to the left of her would have thought the scene looked peachy, a real country, friendly moment in time.

Blane was asking the women at the desk a series of drawn out questions. She was trying to explain herself. Pleading softly. The women responded with sharp smiles and underlying tones of thorns.

Her breath was short and in gasps. The woman on the far right smiled at her and revealed short, blunt yellowing teeth. Her voice was sweet, but was coated thickly with something other than kindness, honey textured, but steaming with stench and something Blane did not understand.

“Oh yeah, I totally understand. Right yes,” the woman nodded, “We just need a picture of it. Email it to us and we will approve it.”

“It’s really nice,” Blane explained, “It’s just a little place for me to read and do my yoga and,” she was cut off by the escaping laughter scoff that jumped out of the woman’s lips.

“Right that’s nice, so send me a picture and I’ll approve it.”

“OK, rules are rules I guess,” Blane said with acceptance though the pressure in her chest was not at bay, “And I just want to make sure, I have my spot until April right? You guys were sure about it at first and then it seemed like I might not have a spot anymore until then.”

“Right now, you are here until February 1.”

Blane panicked for a moment, “That’s in two weeks.”

“Right.” She could have sworn excitement and happiness glowed through the woman for a moment under that exterior.

“So, I mean..”

“Right, yea I mean we can move you then, but you have your current spot until February 1.”

“So, I’ll have to move again. I have moved three times this month.” Blane’s eyes widened, pleading again with kindness. She felt like a charity case, and the pressure in her chest continued to press, now on her stomach. She felt like she was on a tower of wobbling children’s blocks, her life in the balance and the white-powdered hands of this woman.  

She thought, send me strength, help me be strong, but what escaped her lips was.

“OK thank you, I’ll figure it out.” She smiled waved, thanked the women, and walked out with her head arched down to the floor.

1.17.19

America, Day 20

I have realized that there are survival skills I must develop in order to be…well…to be fine here:

Managing emotions and biological reactions to a world that is unnatural to our primitive brain. Managing this depression that is rooted from an existential problem. Managing the anxiety that comes from unnatural situations, despair, and anger with the way things are. I must be able to shut off emotions about the bad things happening in this world. I must numb myself to be able to function. Being genuine in this world will only cause me to be naïve and therefore get me into trouble.

OK! I get it! I have learned!

This is why:

They took advantage of my me, of my “ness”. They took advantage of the genuine person I am. WAS. Somehow, I know I can still find the tribe I talked about the other day, but I must be careful.

It all started when I decided to move out of Diane’s home. She feigned acceptance. She feigned happiness and relief as if trying to hurt me. I explained myself genuinely.

“It’s not you, and it’s not the kids. I just know I will do better in my job if I can get a real break at the end of the day. I hope you understand; I really don’t want a decision like this to jeopardize my job, and if it does, please tell me so we can compromise.”

“It’s fine,” was her curt, initial response. Then, with the smile that I had already understood, “Dear, it’s fine! Really,” a pat on the shoulder with a stiff hand that wouldn’t fool me. I could feel her. I could feel the bubbling in her chest. It now was in mine.

I moved. I had had an offer from Brody’s friend that he made here at his new job (he found one, but that’s a whole new story that I will explain later). He wanted to sell me a little camper. It was perfect. I like small spaces, and I don’t need much. I decided to turn it into my little home, and I found a place to park it. I initially thought that I would be able to find a place in nature anywhere that I would find suitable and be able to park it, right?

Wrong

Problem one. I accepted it. Here, it is not legal to park your camper in nature without paying for it. If I want to park it in a national park or a state park, I can only stay for two weeks, and then I have to move. I can accept that. I don’t understand it, but I must accept. I don’t want to move every two weeks, so I would find a solution.

There is a solution: they have parks. There are these parks where a bunch of people like me live, right?

Ha, wrong again naïve one.

Truth and problem two accepted, though this time it was a struggle to do so. No one is like me. At least not yet in my journey here.

So I parked it. I found a park that seemed nice enough, and I parked it along with hundreds of other people’s campers.

And I lived freely, right?

Wrong.

Problem three,

And now I must be forced to accept it.

I can’t feel anything at all. This world has left me cold and down.

I arrived in the park and started introducing myself to people. That is what you do in a new situation like this, right? I think by now you know the answer. So that was mistake one.

Try to find a reason live.

Try to find a way to live is more like it. I thought this was the land of freedom.

I set up my little home just as I loved it. And I still love it. Why does the world around me hate it? Why do they hate me? I have shown my love, I have breathed my love, I have given my love again and again and again over the months and here I lie, destitute and BROKEN. I haven’t even written in this journal in months. Some days I don’t do anything at all. My home, my little camper filled with light and love and art and good smells and cooking and happiness, some days is dark and damp with sadness and the fear and hatred that has been pressed down upon me by others.

But, please focus Blane, let’s start at the start. Maybe this will help.

The first thing I did upon my arrival at Creekside RV Park was hang some prayer flags on the outside of the metal facing on the front of the camper that I put up to cover the front windows. I didn’t want people looking in. I value privacy; it really wasn’t based in fear. The multi-colored squares flicked in the wind with their own little happiness and spirit. Every time I saw them I smiled.

I cleaned the outside until it shone. That was the first thing I noticed that had already changed about me. I cared in a deep, timid and anxious way about what people would think about my little purchase. But it wasn’t a negative thing in that moment. I really just wanted to make a good impression. I shined the metal, I washed the vinyl. I made it sparkle like the gem that I thought it was.

Then I moved onto the inside. This part, this was for me. I purchased a few things like jars and kitchen towels, but mostly I had everything already that I needed. I collect snow globes, so these were displayed above the dash. Then I put up pictures and put away my dishes and other things that I had had in storage since I didn’t need them at Diane’s.

My space was comfortable, cozy, and just what I wasn’t getting in my other living situation. I invited a friend over now and then, but mostly it was me and my books and my movies and cooking. I yearned for someone to share it with, but for the most part I was content.

It was as if the vultures around me could sense this, my contentment. Looking back on the first day, they must have started circling without me even noticing, upon my arrival. They swooped in on day six.

“So what are you doing in there anyway, lounging?” Her voice, sharp with her true meaning sounded on the phone.

“Uh, no, I’m getting ready to go to work,” I replied, slightly offended despite myself. This woman was the one in the office at the park whom I liked. She always was sweet and had even baked me some little cookies, but she also seemed to be voicing what everyone else in the office was talking about behind my back.

“Well good, you have some mail.”

When I went to go pick it up, her next accusation, because I was wearing sunglasses and a head scarf was, “You trying to hide something? Is it working?”

It was as if everyone who worked at the park had been talking badly about me. That was the feeling I got. Normally, I know I’m not this important, but I felt uncomfortable and on the spot. Somehow, simply by stepping into the office, I was on trial. I returned to my camper with my tail in between my legs, ashamed that I cared and even more ashamed that I had let them win by making me feel this way. I didn’t understand. I just kept to myself, went to work, and when I was home I cooked and watched movies for the most part. What had I done wrong to deserve a type of slandering?

It only continued and escalated from that point on. Every time I left the camper I heard something:

“What do you do in there anyways?”

A golf cart would roll by, and I would receive sharp dagger eyes glaring from the people who worked at the park.

A neighbor wouldn’t return a wave.

I would sense a dark feeling and I would turn around to see someone’s dagger-eyes slicing open my back.

It got to the point that I was afraid to leave the front door. I hated the feeling I had every time I did. I had to though. I had to live, so I continued.

I would go to work and come home. I tried but was unsuccessful in making friends in the park. Obviously, the people who worked there had a problem with me, and it was as if they were infecting anyone who may have approached me or been cool with me in the surrounding campers. Every time I would approach someone, I would sense the feeling you have when you walk into a room with a group of people who have been talking badly about you.

I questioned even myself- was this all in my head? I questioned my own sanity. Eventually, I received the validation I needed from one of the only people who I had befriended, who had at first spoken to me begrudgingly. Somehow though, they could tell I was good, so they gave me more of a chance than anyone else had. And they told me, without thinking obviously, how much everyone talked about me and wondered about me and gossiped about me.

I did what I tried to give myself advice to do: take it as a compliment. For some reason, I was obviously thought provoking and interesting to these people. What bugged me is that small minds discuss people. I had always tried to stay away from gossip, and now somehow I was taking the brunt of it.  I did not like attention, especially this kind.

It seems like my head only sees ground these days. I’m afraid to look up. My shoulders hunch, I shudder to think what I am perceived as. Have I shrunk away these past few weeks?

I’m still breathing,

Blane