#it could mess with his liver and he’s gonna be miserable and i just

[gayhoediaz]

.

[cakkebbr]

A thing a wrote about a mitski song and hilson

  I'm your man by Mitski 

You're an angel, I'm a dog

Wilson would be the angel in this because he is always right and he isn't rude and messed up like House, and House would be the dog because he always sees himself in a negative way, and the dog also represents how house always wants to be with Wilson because he knows that no matter what he says to him he will never leave and just that thought alone brings him comfort.

Or you're a dog and I'm your man

This part is what makes this connect a lot with House and Wilson because Wilson is like a dog too but in this scenario House is a man, a man because he is not trustworthy and he can't be an angel he's so self destructive to the point that it affects other people and makes it so that people avoid or hate him, House knows this so in order not to get hurt he's always rude to people so they avoid knowing the real him.

You believe me like a god

This lines connects to House because House knows that Wilson believes that he can get fixed but House knows he cant or wont allow himself to be a better person, which makes Wilson keep believing that he can and rewards him for being a human, it's just a circle that keeps repeating and they are both aware of that, but they don't know how to stop it or they can't because Wilson knows that if he leaves him, House will be way more miserable even though he knows that if he leave he would be better off and House also knows this but he knows that if Wilson leaves he would kill himself best case scenario and that's what is causing that cycle. 

I'll destroy you like I am

This also connects to House because he keeps setting low bars for Wilson to the point where he gets rewarded for showing his emotions and still House can't do that because of his deep rooted daddy issues and mommy issues, he just can't open up to him and Wilson still believes he can. I just wanted to add that this is why in the last season when Wilson realizes that he is dying he yells at House because there is no way that House can be a decent human being and respect his decision of not dying in the hospital. (also wanted to add that this song its about religion alot which connects to House a lot because the line that goes “you believe me like a god,I destroy you like i am” shows that he believes that god doesn't exist and that if he did he would hate him because he sees god like a destroyer/bad thing.

I'm sorry I'm the one you love

I think House's secretly is sad that Wilson is stuck with him and I think he punishes himself for it so he finds ways to bond with him without showing any of his real emotions but Wilson just wants to connect and understand house in a emotional level, House just refuses despite him knowing that he's the one can stop this cycle which builds more resentment towards them.(I also wanted to add that Wilson also has problems that add to the cycle but i'm no mentioning them Because this song talks about their relationship in Houses perspective)

No one will ever love me like you again

When House realized the Wilson was gonna die he knew that nobody was gonna be like Wilson, someone who is so nice to the point where they will suffer so people can view him as good person, though there are many people like that, not many like House because of his manners only Wilson can do that, to prove Wilson selfishness, there was a friend in a episode that treated Wilson like crap, despite Wilson knowing this he donated a liver to him, House was so mad at him because in a way he was jealous, it wasn't just jealousy he saw Wilson being just as miserable as him the only difference is that Wilson seeks validation from people around him but House doesn't, in that scene he was shaming him in a way so he could stand up for himself, I say shaming because he said something like “what happens if you die, what about me” which shows how manipulated House really is.(I also wanted to add that the reason House and Wilson are good friends is because they're both miserable in their own way.)

So when you leave me, I should die

In the episode where House realizes Wilson is gonna die he wants to die because Cuddy left, his old wife left, Chase left everyone who can deal with him left, that gave him no will to live so I think that once Wilson dies he will kill himself because I don't think he can change.

I deserve it, don't I?

In the last episode he was debating whether to die in the fire or that he shouldn't, this line really shows how House sees himself in a negative way. I also wanted to add that when House was debating whether to kill himself he was hallucinating many characters that either died or left him this represents how cowardly House is, he can't even convince himself to not to kill himself so he hallucinates people that he meet convincing House not to kill himself, that's how much self worth he was. 

I can feel it getting' near, Like flashlights comin' down the way

I don't have much to say about this because this part reminds me of that one scene where House “kills himself” and there were flashlights all around the place.

One day you'll figure me out,I'll meet judgment by the hounds

This part just shows how much this song relates to House, he knows that one day he will understand him and he will see Wilson analyzing every bit of it, he doesn't want that because he doesn't like being judged by people, he feels the same way about god, someone who is judgemental and will punish you for it.

People always gave me love, Others were never to blame after all

The first line says people always gave me love, it connects to house because his psychiatrist said something like “your lucky you have people that love you”, the second lines says “others were never to blame after all” because people hate him but he hates himself more, he feels as though he should be punished for being him.(also wanted to add that there was a scene where chase got stabbed and he blamed himself for it despite it being Chase’s fault, when the committee let him go he got mad because the committee was gonna put him to jail but didn't, this also connects him to how he sees religion, he wants to believe in god but he can't, he wants people to be punished for their wrong doing too but he can't follow rules so that's why he is not religious and doesn't like religious people, he wants to be a rebel.

You believe me like a god,I'll betray you like a man

This connects to House and Wilson because Wilson believes he can be a good man and believes in him and gets let down (like a man) every time but that just makes him addicted to fixing everyones life (which is another reason this cycle keeps repeating), Wilson keeps rewarding him thinking he's making progress in transforming him into a decent human being but he purposely lets Wilson down so he can punish himself because in his mind god won't do it for him, instead god has made him smart and always right and house thinks that's unfair. This part just makes the song whole by connecting it to the first part of the song. I love this song because it tells us a story that you can interpret the way you want while also delivering a message to the audience. Mitski is so crazy for this.

[aquamoonchaii]

•• genre: fluff, angst

•• warning: mentions of alcohol

•• pairing: xiaojun x fem! reader

•• wc: 1.4k

•• collab: Resonance Beach by @amorajae

•• charlie's notes: enjoy this cheesy piece <3

•• summary: you two choose the worst time to argue and separate each other for a while so xiaojun is now a party pooper and he is a sappy drunk asshole. did he even understand what you said that night?

“He is the luckiest asshole in the whole resort.”

“Not as lucky as me, remember I won the tickets to get here in the first place.” YangYang brags and a couple of mocking “thank you sir” echo the room.

“But really, who the fuck brings this alcoholic to his room?” Hendery questions and the man in question scoffs, sitting up just to find all the idiots gathered around him.

"Are you really talking about me….around me?" SiCheng, without a word, grabs his face like searching for something then proceeds to grab his hands and puts them up as he is shirtless. "He is complete, no organs removed or bruises. This guy right here is indeed lucky." Xiaojun furrows his eyebrows as SiCheng gives him a slap on the back, stands up and leaves as everyone follows him talking about what they should have for breakfast but the only rational one stays.

Kun rolls his eyes at his hungover friend when handing him a glass of water with pills he got there. "You know this resort masters at wild parties and strong liquor so why are you drinking so much? The blackout thing and being lightheaded are not sexy nor a good combination."

"I'm a grown man, it's fine."

" I know, that's why no one follows you."

"Don't lie, I heard the bartender calling you."

"...maybe. But that's not the point, how do you even get here?" XiaoJun groans because it's too early for this and he is hungry, thinking how he wants to go home and be at peace. "Whatever, just don't die DeJun. Do you have any news?"

He lowers his head and shakes it, no one really mentions it as they promised to shut up about it hoping he shuts up and enjoy.

Xiaojun indeed has been quiet but drinks one beer and he is sobbing about Y/N once again. Goddamnit. It's been a week of him drowning in his tears and three days of him drowning in alcohol, his friend is really heartbroken and he secretly wonders if this type of codependency is actually good for him.

Kun bites his hand to not call you and ask what happened because XiaoJun won't talk about the whole stuff. You two were basically glued to each other since you started dating and it was a bit awkward but XiaoJun looked happier and you were really nice to everyone.

He wonders if his probably now single friend is going to be alright. For now, he just listens to him talk for a bit and forces him to swallow a lot of healthy snacks so his liver doesn't collapse.

……….

It's been two long days at the resort and everyone is having fun except XiaoJun. He has been basically brought here as another suitcase anyways, one night he has been slurring words about Y/N and how the guys would have to kill him to make him accept the invitation to the resort and the next day he woke up at lunch time with a huge hangover at a king sized bed... at the Resort.

Fuck them all.

Until Kun made some sense because well, they didn't do it to mess with him. Actually, yes but also because XiaoJun was one of the most excited when Yangyang played a stupid lottery and won tickets to a luxury resort for a week. He helped Kun to organize everything for the other chaotic asshats, it was gonna be an unforgettable summer vacation.

Yangyang and the guys approved Y/N so they invited her but no one asked anything, maybe it was because he arrived late at the dorms looking like garbage after meeting you. He remembers reaching them and opening his hand to show them both of your rings, how embarrassing but at least that stopped the questions.

After Kun leaves, he slurs a thank you because he knows he is making this trip a nightmare for him. But a question keeps running through his head, does he actually reach his own dorm by himself?

DeJun can't even stand on his feet when frick an he acts wild almost screaming what he feels because the alcohol softs his vocal chords and makes him rant about his feelings he prefers no to talk about sober.

He doesn't stand up but leans to the little table at his left to search for his wallet and grab a lot of cash, he'll search the person and tip him extra because it's probably one of the service people that looks the worst side of him.

Let's give us some time. It would be good for both of us, DeJun.

Honestly, fuck you.

How is this good?

It was a silly argument that turned into something big as stress and miscommunication clashed, you both hurt each other with harsh words and stormed out in opposite directions. The next day he met you to talk things out and you forgave each other but it had turned awfully when you returned the promise ring to him.

You are not coming back, he can feel it.

Honestly, he wants to run to you and do something for you to get him back. But what if you end things right away? You said something about giving him a week to enjoy himself as the most repetitive thing of him at the argument was you being everywhere and he couldn't breathe.

He sighs, how stupid of him.

Basically, DeJun is the clingy one so that didn't make sense. He was the one expecting for you to come and cuddle him as you bicker with Yangyang as he tried to roast him, you caressing his hair as he played the guitar and sing for you, the little kisses on his cheek when he felts sad, how you didn't leave his hand even when you were paying for the snacks. He loved it, he was the one to search for your hand so you can hold him a bit more.

If you are taking your revenge now, it's working and he wishes once again being at the dorm so the wondering and the waiting eats him alive.

You are not coming back but he is hoping you do somehow.

…….

"DeJun! Are you drunk?" He shakes his head as he arrives at the fun stuff to do, maybe doing something would make him stop thinking about you for a bit. Everyone pats their back as he probably looks like crap and make him go to beach and learn surf.

...it doesn't work but he feels less miserable at least.

No headaches are cool too as night arrives and they are invited to a party. SiCheng bet him 100 dollars he couldn't pass the night without a single shot and he raises an eyebrow.

"I'll be the one who takes you to the dorm, I won't clean anything tho."

"Deal."

The variety of cocktails makes everyone drunk as hell and XiaoJun actually has fun watching Kun dancing on the table as everyone cheers for him. Hendery breaks empty glasses as he tries to do a house of cards with them, he is the one in charge of apologies tonight. SiCheng literally passes out on his lap and he can't move.

Luckily, the staff helps him and takes each asshat to their room and he gets the chance to ask who is the person who takes him to his own room.

"No staff was needed, sir. A lady came the first night and handed me her number so I could call her when you were passed out."

"Uh, what?"

"We allowed it as he addressed herself as your girlfriend. The friend who slept over you confirmed to us she made you arrive safely."

WHAT.

"Can you call her please?"

And there you are coming hurriedly from another side of the resort, waving at the bartender. "Where is he?"

He lifts his hand and nervously waves, you approach him awkwardly and waved too. "So you caught me."

"Why didn't you tell me you were here?"

"Well, you weren't in conditions for it."

"And what's the best condition?" He doesn't know how to feel, but being embarrassed is the first thing that gets the best of him as you saw it all.

"Maybe sober?" You shrugged your shoulders and sat down in front of him, his cheeks heated because he remembers talking to someone about how sorry he feels for the woman he loves. "You really don't know how to listen to me, huh?" He looks at you utterly confused but his heart flutters when you extend your hand to him. DeJun carefully grabs yours and lets out a shaky sigh like he has been holding his breath since you left.

"Y/N…"

"There's no need to explain further, I heard it all with hiccups and everything." You chuckle and caress his hand. "It was too extreme for me to return the ring, I'm so sorry for that. But I really thought a week alone would make us think if this relationship was going well and… I felt awful. I literally made you cookies twice and kept forgetting we were on a break. I am not sure how to ask this but, how did your week go?"

"I literally can't see because of how swollen my eyes are. Never do this again please I'm so annoyed I'm going to cry again."

"I won't I promise, I also can't see." You laugh and he looks at you, your sweet eyes lighten up as he stands up and kisses them both over the table as he mutters apologies again.

"Can you keep it as a secret what I did hen drunk?"

"You screamed my name but I loved it." XiaoJun groans and covers his ears as you laugh, he searches his pocket and give shou the ring.

He is never going to drink again but he makes you write on a napkin a promise to wear the ring everywhere.

[pandemilkbread]

devil 007 (prologue)

devil 007 (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

summary:

(demon!au)

Turns out Bakugo Katsuki never wanted to eat your soul, rather he just needed someone to play video games with.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :>

                                                    ☆     ☆     ☆

𝑖. 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

“That was a fucking accident.”

“An explosion that big is not an accident!”

You might be wondering how the hell were you hanging on the tallest building in the underworld holding on to a pipeline for your dear life. While your notorious partner-in-crime Bakugo just watched as you dangled ninety feet in the air. 

“I swear if I die I will shitting haunt you for all eternity! You’d be fed up with all my shit the moment my soul reaches your territory. Just imagine, me annoying you fore—“

“Jump.” He grumbled. 

No. Jump? Hell no. You’d rather die than jump into his arms. Bakugo was more likely to miss, and you’d fall (probably five storeys) before he dare tried to save you. 

You wanted to scream. How all this happened in the first place, you hardly remember. No, you did remember. 

It was all because of that stupid book. 

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

It was a mishap, really. The wrong book got delivered to the wrong place at the wrong time, and exactly the wrong thing happened as a consequence. 

You were a college student who had just finished the semester, and frankly... a miserable one you were. Failing a quiz was one thing, but you had to mess up your finals so badly a retake wouldn’t suffice. You had to take up the subject all over again. 

Sighing, you lay flat on your back. The ceiling had this magical property to suck up all the negativity in your life. 

(it didn’t. but you’d like to think so.)

You had all the time in the world to repeat the subject. The problem? Cash. Having a scholarship at a prestigious university wasn’t easy. One measly failure could mean bye-bye free tuition fees and hello student loans that could last centuries + a liver.

Doomed you were, honey. You groaned. At least the treasury board approved the student allowances; which meant? The poor student (you) finally bought the heavy shitass syllabus for your major. The subject you failed. 

It could take weeks for the parcel to arrive. What did you expect? You only ordered it days ago. The sooner it gets here, you’d be studying your ass off until 5 A.M. for weeks. Hooray. 

A sudden ring of the doorbell awoke you from your senses. Huh, it did arrive earlier than you expected. You scooted towards the door and twisted it open. There lay a box wrapped in tape, a sticker with the words ‘fragile: handle with care’ shone in bright yellow. 

You picked it up and shook the item. It was lighter than you expected. How the heck did a 700 page book become as light as a diary? Did they send you the wrong thing? Crap. You scoured the whole box to find neither details about who the recipient nor who the sender was. 

Oh, well. Did that mean you could keep whatever was inside? You grinned. Opening up the box, you find out it was a vivid red book entitled:

Ultimatum Wishes: The Ultimate Spellbook for Summoning Demons! All your wishes will come true! Follow the instructions inside. 

Yeah, right. Like you could summon a demon to send you a trillion yen.

(apparently, doubt didn’t stop you from trying.)

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

First of all, what the actual fuck. 

Your curiosity got the best of you. The instructions were pretty easy; sugar, salt, dirt, water, a jar of mayonnaise, a drop of blood— basically, the usual ingredients for summoning demons. Like that’s shitting normal? You had to mix them all together and spread them into the circle you drew on earlier. 

Second, did you really summon a demon?

You were obviously not in your dorm room. It was bigger, darker, and colder to what you were accustomed to. After saying a stupid chant, you make a wish and boom! demon comes to you. So the instructions said. 

It was a joke, really. You never thought the book was actually real! Once you said your wish, a bright light flashed and... you were here. A basement like room devoid of light, making your fingers the only things you could see at the moment. 

You were sprawled on your back, staring at your hands. If only your eyes could adjust to the light then you would be on your merry way to finding the exit. Except, that you didn’t really need to adjust. The lights opened with a flash and you were met with red eyes:

“Took you long enough, brat!”

Lastly, who the hell was this?

The moment you and this miniature bomb exchanged looks, and he realized that you weren’t the person he was hoping for, the man grabbed the collar of your shirt lifting you high up to the ceiling. 

“How the fuck did you get here stupid human? Pretty gutsy of you to just waltz in like you own the place, hm?” He growled, slightly shaking you with every syllable he uttered. 

You barely registered it, you-know before you were lifted up, but this person in front of you was terrifying. He radiated waves of “answer properly or i’ll rip you into shreds” and you didn’t want to die.

(not at least before smacking this crappy brute.)

“Put me down you—you crappy dog! Treat me nicely and I’ll tell you everything,” You choked. 

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “You’re really haggling with me now, maggot? The last time I checked I could easily squeeze the fucking life out of you—”

“T-The book! Shitty book! Followed it and I’m here!”

And with that you were dropped onto the floor. You yelped upon impact, rubbing the area of your neck with your fingers. That hurt.  Your eyes hovered to your assailant and saw his frustration building up. Hoo, a little bit more and he’d be on fire. 

“...How’d you get it?” 

“Sent to my doorstep. D-Didn’t think it was real I thought—”

“You opened it knowing it wasn’t yours?”

“Oh, no you aren’t! Don’t blame me for your shitty mistake in the first place!”

“Watch your tongue, human.”

You sighed. Everyone knew you were someone who wouldn’t back down from a fight, but your senses told you otherwise. There was a fine line between pissing him off and stabbing you in the heart, you knew you were likely closer to the latter part of the scale. 

“Fine. Whoever that package was sent to, it came to me instead. Why am I here?”

He contemplated for a while, searching for the right words to spout out. Oh God no. Were you brought here as a sacrifice? You shook your head. Anything but that! Sweat dribbled down your forehead. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“...to kill...”

Yeaph. And with that, you blacked out. 

(imagine, fainting from your own demolition. oh, you hope you didn’t actually break a bone or two.)

☆     ☆     ☆     ☆     ☆

You awoke to a strange tapping noise, more like a smack, and groans of infuriation. The vivid colors of black, pink, and yellow caught your attention, making you stare in awe. Was that Mario Kart...?

The clicking sound came from the blonde who sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes drawn to big television screen in front of him. While you were on a black couch around three hands away from the man. Seemingly, he could sense your tiny movements as you sat up, compelling him to chuck a controller at you. 

“You gonna play or what?”

Huh? You took the object, feeling the texture in your hands. It’s been a while since you held a controller; even longer since you played a game at all. The game home screen flashed, the cursor hovering over the “new game” button. He clicked it forcing the game to switch into the character screen. 

The man picked Bowser. Ah, not surprising. You grinned as you chose Princess Peach.

The game began immediately after and you thought, wow. You sucked at this game! Your cart hit track walls, bounced on boulders, special items that you sent managed to hit you instead. Rigged, this must be rigged! Just because the last time you played the game was ten years ago, doesn’t automatically mean you were shit at it.

Your companion thought differently.

“You’re crappy at this game.” He sneered.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just the first game! A warm-up, you’ll see.”

And yes, he did see. See you fail round after round, time after time, the twenty games you played seemed to only prove your awful skills at a simple multiplayer game. You groaned. How was it possible to lose this much? Even the computer controlled characters beat you senseless. 

Gently placing the controller on the sofa, you wrapped your arms around your knees. Was this a test? A test to see whether if you were worth killing? Oh boy, you would have been slaughtered at the first playthrough. 

“Are you going kill me now?” You murmured. 

If this was how you were going to go, at least you had fun. Well, you did lose more times than you could count. But hey, it was enjoyable. 

“Ha. You think I’d let you go that easily?” He stood up, turned and grabbed the controller. “You made a pact with me, and now you’re gonna run away?”

His other hand reached for your chin and pulled it up, your eyes meeting his. 

“What’d you wish for, princess?”

alright. so that’s the prologue! thank you for reading. i’ll have the chapter one ready soon. so pretty much, what happened was: you received a package. bored as you were followed the instructions and summoned a demon. except, you were actually summoned somewhere else to bakugo no less. 

the introductions come on to the next chapter!! please leave a like if you like it aaaaa it would mean alot ;;;;

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Jack Goodman

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Most of these can probably go for both normal jack and ghost jack but the hcs center around him being amongst the undead. I wouldn’t mind writing some hcs specifically for human Jack though)

- You first met Jack in highschool. Initially, you were friends with David who was in a few of your classes, but soon enough David introduced you to Jack and the three of you became a trio.

- Jack fell for you the moment he saw you, or at least couldn’t help but find you incredibly attractive. You probably thought he was just nervous when you first met with the way he was stumbling over his words and acting so awkward. Gosh, David had a field day with him after you left.

- To Jack, you’re completely out of his league and there is no chance that you would be interested in him. But he has to try. Too bad his “trying” isn’t nearly as obvious as he would like it to be.

- The two of you gradually spend more time together, going from only hanging out once in a while; and only with David, to hanging out for hours on your own. Every time you’re together he tries to psychically project his feelings into your mind.

- Its nearly a year later that he actually tries to put the moves on you but at that point you’re such good friends that you don't even notice what he’s trying to do. Every proposition of a date is just him asking to hang out. Every romantic compliment or pickup line results in you laughing and telling him to stop messing around. He doesn’t know how much more of it he can take.

- When the three of you graduated highschool, you’d decided that you’d take a year off and vacation in Italy. The boys wanted to go backpacking so they agreed to meet you there. Of course, they never really did, did they?

- You were beside yourself when you heard about what happened. Here you were, in the middle of a foreign country supposed to be having the time of your life and instead, you find out that one of your best friends is killed by an animal and that the other is recovering in a London hospital. Jack was dead, it was like the idea wouldn’t register in your mind. Jack was dead and you’d never see him again.

“Y/n came to my funeral. Gosh, she really looked torn up,” Jack smiled at David almost sheepishly. “Do you think now would be a bad time to tell her how I feel?”

- It was a few days after his funeral that you first saw him again. You though that you were going crazy, that your grief had gotten the better of you and you were having a serious lapse in your sanity. But it all seemed far too real, too detailed to be a hallucination.

- After hearing about what happened, you’d cancelled the rest of your trip and went back home. You’d holed yourself up in your room for a week before you finally forced yourself to go outside, though it was only to attend Jacks funeral.

- You were curled up on your bed, still dressed in your funeral attire and feeling utterly miserable as you fumbled with a book you’d borrowed from the boy for your plane ride to Italy. The room was quiet, save for you sniffling, ...up until a sudden voice rang out.

“You never did get the chance to give me that back.”

- Your eyes widened as you clumsily sat up and turned around. There he was, standing in the doorway to your bedroom; torn and bloodied but there. You watched as he walked inside the room, smiling at you as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. Feeling the mattress sink under his weight was what fully convinced you that you weren’t just going mad.

- Your mouth went completely dry as you looked at him. You couldn’t think of anything to say even as you tried your hardest. All you could manage to get out was a “how” and a clumsy sounding “what”.

“How ya doin y/n/n? Wonderful service wasn’t it. I was glad to see you there. I think my parents were too, they always liked you,” he said sweetly though the words held a bitter air. “You know, I was thinking about sticking around here a bit. You said I was always welcome and, well, being around the dead all the time is really starting to bum me out. I much prefer your company.

- You inched closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his cleaner shoulder before moving it to touch his undamaged cheek. His skin was cold but you could touch it as though he were really there. Letting out a sob, you lunged forward, smushing you’re lips against his cheek and pressing your forehead to the side of his head.

“Well don't get all mushy on me now.” 

- True to his word, he did stay, albeit in intervals. Every now and again, he’d disappear for a while but he always came back and was seemingly content and relieved to be around you.

- Its not very long after he comes back into your life that he finally confesses his feelings. He figures that, hey, he’s dead, what else has he got to lose? So one night, just as you’re drifting off to sleep, he enters your room and kneels beside your bed, delicately shaking you awake.

“Y/n/n? I know its late but I’ve been sitting up and thinking. Thinking about my life, all the things that happened, everything I should have done. I realized that I didn’t do much at all. I mean; I should have met more people, went out more, slept around more.” he chuckled softly though it sounded more like a scoff than anything else. 

“But you see, I can live with all of that, or, well... nevermind! The point is, that there was one thing that I should have done that I never did, something that I can’t just let go of. …I should have kissed you Y/n. I should have kissed you and never stopped. I was an idiot, I was an idiot because I never told you how I felt when I had the chance. Well now I’m a lousy mess of ghostly meat but I’m going to finally tell you.” He paused, taking a deep breath and trying to calm his nerves. Even in death, he was a coward. 

“Y/n. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I saw you and never once has that love gone away; …not even in death. I know this isn’t very orthodox and that I’m not a very nice looking corpse either. …And maybe this whole thing is insane and I never should have said anything at all!” He spoke as though he finally realized how bizarre the situation was, an nervous edge in his voice. He paused and collected himself before speaking again. “…but I did say it, so now we’re just gonna have to move on from here.” 

- None of his dreams could have ever prepared him for the sheer shock and joy that he felt when you told him that you liked him too. 

“So you’re saying we could have been together all of this time?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on his face. With a tired smile, you beckoned him into your bed and laid back once again to go to sleep, this time with him by your side. 

-  You had your first date in your house, cuddled up on your couch and watching movies. It was just like any other day yet different at the same time. It felt right. 

- The two of you shared your first kiss that same day when you were saying goodnight to each other. You were going to go to bed and he wanted to stay up a bit longer so he walked you to your bedroom. You both paused at the door before he leant down and kissed you gently, saying goodnight with a smile as you retreated into the room. 

- And so, the dead joined the living... in her small studio apartment. 

- Jack is sort of an indoor boyfriend so to speak. He’s a ghost; and a mangled one at that, so you can’t exactly be seen with him out in public. 

- He’s a bit clingy. He’s pretty much always alone when you’re not around so he hates when you have to leave him.

- I hope you don't mind gore because his isn’t going away anytime soon. 

- Please let him kiss you. Please. He is literally begging you to makeout with him.

“I know the face is a bit messy but my lips are still perfectly intact.”

- Humor is sort of a defense mechanism for him. Whenever he’s nervous or doesn’t know what to say; or how to say what he wants to say, he’ll just keep cracking jokes and trying to make you laugh in an effort to ease the tension.

- Getting surprise visits. He’ll most definitely scare you with the way he just pops up wherever you are, though its hard to stay mad at him when he says that he missed you. 

- Sudden butt pinches and grabs. He puts his hands behind his back whenever you turn to look at him, glancing away and whistling before looking at you with a little devilish smile. 

- Jaw kisses. He loves them and he loves giving them though he uses his for evil. 

- Cuddling? He loves it though it may be a bit difficult with his …injuries. You'll usually lay side by side and hold hands while you sleep or you’ll clutch his hand  to your chest and snuggle into that. 

- You can’t exactly go on dates so you’ll have to find things to do at home, unless you want to go somewhere very secluded. 

- Picnics in the woods. 

- Late night walks. You’re pretty much only able to go out with him when it’s dark, otherwise you’ll have to pretend he’s not there which certainly puts a damper on things. 

- Curling up on the couch together with some hot chocolate and a corny sitcom. 

- Giving him some goddamn toast. There's not much to eat in the spirit world and god does he miss your cooking. Would you mind making him something?

- Talking to a corpse is boring. To him, you’re a much better conversationalist, even if you think you're a bad one. 

- He has a bad habit of speaking when he shouldn't or saying the wrong thing. Nowadays, there’s not too many instances where that's a problem though it’s certainly earned him a few glares from you. 

- Lovingly calling him meatloaf and chopped liver. He …tolerates it; only because you look at him so sweetly when you do so. 

- Is he legally obligated to say your name; at least, twice during every conversation of yours? At this point, you’re honestly pretty sure he is. He doesn’t use nicknames though he doesn’t have anything against them, he just prefers saying your real name. 

- He has kind eyes, doesn’t he? It seems like whenever you turn to him, he’s always gazing down at you with this sincere look of absolute adoration. It makes your heart skip a beat every time. 

- Jack is a bit naive when it comes to girls or, rather, girls he’s in love with. He always believes what you say and falls for your devilish little tricks. 

- David definitely teased him relentlessly for his crush on you and was betting on the two of you getting together. The circumstances aren’t the best but at least it happened, right? 

- He’s a fan of old literature and makes references to it whenever he can. If he finds out you haven't read his favorite novel, he will literally sit you down and force you to.  

- Teasing compliments. They aren’t the most romantic but hey, they still make you smile. 

 “Baby there is nothing mediocre about your body.”

- He likes sitting in your bathroom while you take a shower so that the two of you can talk. He also likes doing it so he can watch you shower but you like to focus on his interest in what you have to say, it’s much sweeter. 

-  He’s a horny boy, even in death. Are ghost boners a thing? Well he’s certainly gonna find out. 

- Being welcomed home by a smooth jazz record and him patiently awaiting your arrival with a somewhat suggestive grin.

- Every time you say something all lovey dovey to him, he swears his heart nearly starts beating again. He never knows what to say back, he usually just turns red and laughs all shyly.  

- He makes a big deal out of your birthdays, he doesn’t let you just forget about them or treat them like any other day. You’re alive! You’re another whole year older! …Fuck! …You’re aging and you’re going to keep aging.... He’ll try not to think about that part. 

- Getting to hear little bits of gossip. No one can see him so he’s certainly witnessed some interesting things, interesting things he likes to tell you about. 

- Nosy ghosty. He snoops around your stuff constantly. He’s practically memorized your entire house down to a T. 

- Having to accept that there’s a lot of supernatural things in the world. Werewolves, ghosts, and who knows what else; they’re all real and your life has just been completely normal up until now. 

- Getting to have all of your questions about death answered though some of the more painful things, he’ll keep a secret just because he doesn’t want to make you upset. 

- I feel as though his looks can depend on his mood and also the type of spiritual day it is. You know how some days are considered more spiritual than others? Well on those days, he’s normal, looking very chipper and with a lot of energy. On bad days, he’s practically a skeleton with a few flaps of dried up skin. 

- He usually hides away during his bad days, not wanting you to see him like that and be scared away. You reassure him that you’ll love him no matter what but a part of you is sort of thankful. You don’t know if you want to see him all horribly decomposed. 

- He does get jealous. I mean, he’s a ghost, you're human. Plus, he was a loser in life, why wouldn’t you pick the attractive living guy whose hitting on you over him. 

- He uses humor to pretend like he isn't bothered by the guys actions but will call him an asshole or something otherwise insulting later when you're alone together. Like out of nowhere, he’ll make some offhanded comment about the guy and you’ll realize he’s still mad about it. You just agree with him and give him a kiss. 

- A part of him; a selfish, disgusting part of him wishes that you were dead. That something would happen to you, something quick and painless but something. On one hand, he wants you to live the life that he couldn't. But he also can’t help but want you with him, encased in eternity as beautiful as always and just how he remembers you. 

- He used to be more of a coward but now that he’s dead, he really has nothing to fear, does he? The only thing he’s worried about is your wellbeing. 

- You’re very good at changing his mind and convincing him to do things. He defends himself by saying its because he likes you so much and that you should consider yourself lucky that he does. 

- He’s not stupid, maybe a bit cowardly at times but not stupid, if something doesn't feel right he’s getting the hell out of there and making sure he takes you right along with him. As much as he’d love an equally undead girlfriend, he knows you aren’t ready to go and shouldn’t be going. 

- He’s quite protective of you. He hates even thinking about you being hurt in any way. He literally can’t even hear about it in hypothetical situations. 

- He cant stand seeing you cry. He never knows what to say or do. He always yearns to comfort you but god, how does he do that? He’ll usually just rub your back and let you cry into his shoulder, trying his best to crack some carefully selected jokes in an attempt to make you feel better. 

- He can be annoyingly persistent when he wants something. He wont let up so unless you’ve got real thick skin and the patience of a saint. You’ll wind up doing what he asks just to get him off your case. If you don’t do it for him, he’ll wind up doing it for himself anyways so don’t sweat it too much.

- There's constant short lived bickering between the two of you. It’s just how he is. He’s a smartass, especially when something bothering him and highly argumentative when something doesn’t sit right with him. You don’t have all that many real fights though. 

- He apologizes when he’s in the wrong or when he feels that he could have handled things better, shyly and jokingly pleading with you to not try and exorcise him while pressing little kisses across your face. 

- He doesn't say he loves you very often. He deems it a very serious thing to say and saying it makes him nervous so he keeps it reserved for special moments. 

- Well, he’s not going anywhere anytime soon so I hope you’re ready for a long relationship. 

[lxveshotaro]

Party Boy - Hendery

Warnings: Sub! Hendery, Dom! Reader, Fingering

Plot: Hendery is the shy friend of your best friend Ten. You started to get close to Ten's friend group. One day you threw a party which turned into a disastrous mess but the shy boy that you hung out with before was there to calm you down.

A/N: I suddenly woke up at 4 am and just.. wrote this?? An anon asked me to write another Hendery smut which I gladly did. This ended up having a lot of backstory to it which I didn't mean to do but oh well.

Parties were never your scene but you always made it seem that way. You're one of those people that will always have fun no matter the occasion. When Ten invited you to hang out with his friends you didn't expect to be dragged to a party every single weekend. It got to the point where you had to start enjoying them or you'd be absolutely miserable.

You loved Ten's friends, they're all so fun to hang around. Over time you've gotten really close to all of them but someone still remains a mystery compared to the others, Hendery. He was always so shy around you. It hadn't always been this way and it happened rather suddenly. He'd stiffen up when you're near, he'd go quiet most of the time, did he like you? Or was it the opposite.

"A party? You're throwing a party?" You nodded, "Don't be so shocked. I just wanted to have a chill, CHILL get together with some friends." Ten nodded, "Nice, I'll tell the others about it." You shook your head, "No need, you're actually the last person to know." He acted all offended but you spoke again before he could talk, "Hey can you ask Hendery if he's coming? He's a bit weird when I talk to him." Ten knows what you're talking about hence his laughter when you said that. "Yeah, I'll let you know."

You were honestly excited for this party. You'd decided to use your own place which you would soon regret. The way you had envisioned this party was something chill, everyone drinking a little, no extremely loud music, you know, something classy.

Ten had gotten ready for the party and was the first one over. You were super close to Ten so you didn't mind getting dressed in front of him. You changed your bra into one thats more appropriate for your dress. "Okay so I got alcohol just.. don't get so drunk this time. Your liver can't handle it." Ten just laughed in response meaning he probably doesn't care and will get wasted anyways.

"Oh by the way Ten," He looked up from his phone, "Is Hendery coming?" You recalled that he's skipped out on quite a few of the parties you had all gone to. "Yeah I thought I would have to talk him into it, he's coming because I said it's your party. Something about how you're the only responsible one besides Kun. I don't know why he thinks that." You glared at him, "Ten I literally just warned you about your liver and you didn't take me seriously. I think it's obvious why he thinks that." He just shook his head in a dismissing way and stood up, "I'm gonna go put the food out and stuff." You nodded and continued getting ready.

Some time had passed, you greeting YOUR guests turned into you greeting a bunch of Ten's guests. "This reckless bitch." You thought to yourself,  this is your party yet your friends are drowning in a sea of alcoholics. You should have expected this, it's Ten, of course he'd invite a bunch of people. If it's a party than it's an event for everyone, that's just how he thinks.

You tried to have fun but you were so pissed off and the people knocking over furniture and destroying your belongings wasn't helping. You decided to get a drink assuming it will help you loosen up, you were wrong. You spit out the burning liquid, "What the fuck is in this!?" One of Ten's friends who was standing by the bowl laughed, "We put 3 bottles of vodka in there, one way to make a party more fun." He continued laughing but was met with a glare as you slammed your cup down.

Kun found you as you made your way over to the couch, "Y/N what-" You cut him off knowing what he was going to say, "Ten decided to make this his own event, this is why I don't throw parties." Kun saw your defeated expression, "Take a rest, I'll make sure things are a bit more controlled, just give me a minute." You nodded and smiled thankfully, you could always count on Kun to make things better.

You walked into your living room and noticed someone familiar, it was Hendery. He looked a bit deflated, like a sad little puppy. You walked over to him with a concerned expression. The person next to him was taking up too much of the little space between them so you slightly nudged the person off the couch. "Hey Hendery, you alright?" When he heard your voice he stiffened up in the same way he always did, but you paid it no mind. Despite his puppy like expression he nodded. "Did something happen?" He nodded again but looked as if he wasn't going to say anything.

You reached for his hand and leaned in closer so he could hear you better, "Don't worry, come here." You held his hand which was as tense as his body, you led him into your room which you had locked after seeing how many reckless people entered your house. You closed the door and locked it again which Hendery looked a bit frightened at. It was a bit quieter in there since someone turned on obnoxiously loud music outside the door.

"What happened?" You still wore a concerned look on your face. Hendery didn't look at you but he spoke quietly, "Its nothing." Of course it wasn't nothing, "Then why are you moping around?" He didn't answer immediately, "Well, I don't like parties, I don't like to drink as much as everyone else, and I'm not like my other friends and- it sounds stupid.. nevermind." You could relate to that, you've felt that way before so you didn't think it sounded stupid. "Honey, I've been there before. Before I met Ten I felt exactly like that."

Hendery made eye contact with you for the first time since you left the living room. "It's.. its not that." You were very intrigued, "What is it then?" You hoped that he didn't feel too pressured but judging by the way he looked away you assumed he did. "You can tell me anything, I'm not going to judge you." In fact, you'd end up enjoying what he told you. After a moment of gathering his thoughts he spoke. He had loosened up a while ago but he tensed up again from the recent topic.

"The other guys get to fuck whatever girl they want and they're just so charismatic and stuff and I'm just not like that." He seemed sad again, he was sitting on your bed as you stood near him. You came closer to him, "Tell me, what are you like then?" Hendery stumbled over his words for a moment, you were good at reading people but Hendery was an open book with bold letters. "Is it because of something you like sexually?" He choked on those words that he previously couldn't get out. You grabbed his chin and lifted his face towards yours. "It is isn't it?" You rested one leg on the bed so you stood over Hendery's lap.

When his eyes met your devilish ones he nodded, almost as if he were frightened. You were very transparent with your sexual preferences, the way you joked, the way you spoke, the way you acted, there's no doubt that you'd be into some kinky shit. Hendery knows that which is probably why he hasn't run away yet. He nodded at your question that you asked previously, he went silent again though. "I can see right through you baby." At this point Hendery already felt as if he had been stripped naked, but he liked it. "What is it that you were so nervous to tell me?" He tried to think of the most non direct way to say, "I'm a sub you're a dom please fuck me."

It took him a little while to come up with an appropriate way to word this. "Well.. I.. um, girls.. uh." You laughed at how cute he looked while he gathered his thoughts and took a deep breath. "Girls like masculine guys in bed.. I'm not the best person for that.." He was still too shy to say it but its okay, you got it. "You're a sub." He looked shocked even though that was the case, "You're definitely not a dom so I think you're a sub." He wasn't trying to but he nodded when you said that.

You leaned forwards and placed your lips on his. He instantly relaxed, you felt him melt into the kiss. You hadn't thought about Hendery this way so a bunch of thoughts suddenly came rushing to you. Of course you knew he wasn't as "dominant" as the others but you didn't think once about fucking him until now. You tangled your hands in Hendery's lengthy hair which excited him. A slight tug caused him to moan quietly into the kiss. The kiss was heated and sloppy, just what Hendery wanted. You pulled away from him to which he frowned at a bit. You climed onto the bed, "Take your clothes off baby." He obediently stood up and undressed himself.

"Come here." His erection stood tall and bounced as he climbed onto the spot that you told him to sit at. He leaned against the headboard and waited patiently. His heart was beating extremely fast, he didn't think this would ever happen, so many thoughts are facing through his head. You pulled him away from his momentary panic and attached your lips to his again. You spit into your hand and rubbed it all over Hendery's dick. You both picked up that same sloppy pace that you had before. Hendery moaned into the kiss as you held a steady pace with your strokes.

You pushed his legs open and gave yourself access to his backside, "Is it alright if I touch you here?" You pressed against his anus and he whimpered while he looked at you with wide pleading eyes. He nodded quickly, he only had to nod once, you went into your drawer and pulled out some lube that you used for your dildos. You also grabbed a condom to put over your fingers. Hendery looked so desperate with his legs spread open on your bed. His hair was sticking to his forehead from him sweating.

You returned to the bed and you positioned yourself over his body. Since you haven't ever seen him without clothes you took in his small frame for the first time and whispered a very quiet, "Wow." Which he heard, he blushed about it and smiled slightly. You took one finger and pressed against his opening once more. He pressed himself against your finger needily, "You've fingered yourself before right?" He nodded again. That's all you needed to know. You slid your finger into him and fingered him slowly at first. He let out small moans at first. After a little while you added another finger and increased your speed. He looked like he was going to fall apart right then and there.

Hendery's moans were picking up, they were in sync with your finger movements. You pushed your fingers in deep and found his prostate which made Hendery let out a high pitched noise. You made eye contact with him, his eyebrows were furrowed together as he moaned out. You smiled at him and hit his spot several more times. He continued to moan loudly, "Shhh." You pressed your lips against his again and muffled his moans. He moaned into your mouth as you fingered him harder. His hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you.

"It.. feels so.. good." You felt confident in your skills because of the way his body was reacting to you. "I'm lucky that I was able to do this for you instead of some other girl." He nodded at what you said. His hands left your face and returned to the sheets. He grabbed onto them tightly. You started pumping his cock in your hand again. He became a squirmy mess when you did that. His moans were so hot to you. Your pace with both hands was very quick. Hendery's back arched and he suddenly announced that he was about to cum. "Let it out baby." His moans were shaky as he spilled out over your hand. The arch of his back and the moans spilling out of him was and extremely erotic sight.

Hendery breathed heavily as you pulled your fingers out of him. "Do you feel better now?" He sighed heavily, suddenly becoming disappointed that it was over. "Of course." He sat there silently for a moment as you came over and wiped him up with tissues. "This isn't the only time this will happen right?" He looked at you and was shocked since he was thinking the same thing, "I should ask you that, of course not. I've liked you for like 4 months. I've wanted this." You laughed at the slight frustration in his voice. "Good, we're on the same page."

Now all that was left to do was get all of these people out of your house. You wanted nothing more but to cuddle with Hendery in your bedroom. So you were off to find Kun so you guys can shut this "event" down.

[wtf-yoongi]

How am I supposed to sleep after this?

pairing | hoseok x reader

summary | vegas w/ your sunshine friend hoseok i don’t think i have to say anything else

genre/warnings | idiots to lovers + humor + fluff + alcohol + drunk j-hope becoming hopeless + gambling + flexing money bc he’s rich af + language bc it’s vegas come on wouldn’t expect anything less

words | 1,875

note | i went to vegas once and it hit me today: that would be 100x better if i had a hoseok (if any of u know where i can get one pls let me know thanks)

It has been thirteen minutes since you first texted Hoseok to know if he was ready to go. 

That idiot always takes the longest time for some reason. Probably choosing between which Balenciaga bag he’s going to wear for the night.

You take a deep breath and look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t look so bad, you’re just not as rich or fancy and the dress you’re wearing might have been on sale last week at Zara, but no one has to know that, right?

You could never reach Hoseok’s level of fashion. Not even if you wanted to.

You don’t want to sit down and wrinkle your dress, so you walk around the fancy room at the Cosmopolitan and stop at the window. Of course, Hoseok booked rooms with a view even though they charge an extra who-knows-how-many-dollars for that, but it ain’t a problem for him.

The sun is setting now, giving tourists a little break from the burning hot temperatures that make everyone avoid the streets as much as they can. To be honest, even at night, the walk between hotel to hotel is just one excruciating experience until you can finally feel the air con on your skin again. The walk you took yesterday showed you that.

Yesterday, however, you both decided to stay away from gambling and just get to know the hotels as if they are freaking museums. Las Vegas doesn’t offer much to do if you’re not into hotels that look like the owner just had a theme in mind and an endless amount of money to realize their vision. So, yeah, visiting hotels is a top notch, must-see tourist attraction. Go figure.

Since you didn’t gamble yesterday, today’s the day. While you were enjoying the hotel pools this afternoon, Hoseok has walked you through every single thing he wants to do tonight. And he has a very meticulous plan.

First, you have to dress up to look fancy. Second, you are going to play blackjack so he can finally realize his dream of looking like he is in a movie. Third, you have to have dinner somewhere to balance the alcohol out. And then, finally, you are going to whatever party is closest to you.

Yeah, sounds like a plan.

Another seven minutes pass and you finally get a reply.

I’m outside your door.

You quickly put your shoes on and grab your purse, checking yourself in the mirror again before opening the door. Hoseok sure is there in all his glory looking at his phone as if nothing is happening, nothing at all.

“You wanna kill someone today?” You ask, eyeing him up and down. He’s wearing red dress pants with a simple white shirt. Come on. “You were right to book two separate rooms for us, I don’t think you’re planning on coming back alone tonight.”

He finally looks up from his phone and laughs lightly after inspecting your choice of clothes. “You say that as if I’m the only one trying to take an advantage of that. You look stunning. Wanna get a drink?”

Your first stop is at one of the many hotel bars. Hoseok quickly orders two drinks from the menu without thinking twice.

“Something light for starters,” he says with a smile as he passes the Cosmopolitan glass to you.

“Oh, you think you’re so funny. Ordering Cosmopolitans at the Cosmopolitan,” you say, raising your glass to touch his. “This is going to be a good night.”

“The best. And hopefully my liver will stand the alcohol levels and you won’t have to drag me back to my room,” Hoseok says, sipping the drink slowly.

“Wouldn’t be too hopeful if I were you.” You know Hoseok and, honestly, the expectations are extremely low. “You were always a lightweight drinker. That shit doesn’t change because you’re in Vegas, you know?”

“I don’t care. What I want today is stop at every single hotel and have a drink and gamble a bit, have some fun!” Hoseok excitedly shakes your arm with his free hand.

“Sure, what’s the worst that could happen?” You ask yourself rhetorically.

As you predicted, Hoseok doesn’t go too far before he’s needing your help to walk. You’re in tiny heels and, despite being tiny, they’re still heels and adding half of his body weight to the mix isn’t helping in anyway. 

You’re inside the ARIA Hotel on your third drink of the night when you first notice that Hoseok isn’t as sharp as he thinks he is to play blackjack. He’s finally living his dream movie life, but he has switched his light Cosmopolitan for Blue Label and you know things aren’t looking up.

If there’s one thing you have to give it to him, though, is that it really feels like a movie. Everything around you looks straight out of a James Bond set, even the young, good looking lady who’s dealing the cards could easily be casted as a Bond girl. But then again, you realize with a scoff, you’re the one standing behind Hoseok’s high designer stool with an eye on his drink so he doesn’t order another one. You’re the Bond girl.

When you get to Park MGM, it’s time to stop. Hoseok is looking sad as fuck as he usually does when he’s too drunk to function and you know he won’t protest if you say he’s had enough. You sit him down on a table at Eataly and leave him for a moment to buy a bottle of water.

“There you go. Drink it up,” you order, handing him the already opened bottle. “You told me I wouldn’t have to drag your ass back to the hotel, but here we are.”

“I never said that.” He takes a break from drinking the water to look at you while you move to sit in front of him. “I said I was hopeful my liver would endure such a challenge.”

“But it didn’t.”

“No, it didn’t.”

You stay silent for a few minutes until the water bottle is empty and Hoseok is using the droplets outside the plastic bottle to wet the back of his neck. He looks wasted and cute at the same time. How is that even possible?

“How about eating something, huh?” You suggest. It’s still early in the night and people are having dinner all around you. The smell of food in this place is driving you mad. “Does pizza sound good?”

Hoseok nods and moves his hands to get his wallet from his back pocket. He hands you the credit card he’s been using all night. “The pin number is your four initials.”

You look at him with raised eyebrows. That’s his pin number?

“Don’t look at me like that, it was the first thing that crossed my mind and you know I’m not good remembering numbers.”

You blink twice and say nothing before walking towards the pizza place, ordering two slices of the best looking one on display. Soon, you’re back at the table and handing Hoseok’s slice. You both eat in silence. 

It seems like he’s coming back to his senses and normal self after eating. For good measure, you order a shot of espresso and something sweet for him to eat from the coffee shop nearby. That should do the trick.

“Are you feeling better?” You ask after a long while. Hoseok is no longer supporting himself on his elbows or looking miserable. He nods. “Good enough so I don’t really have to drag you around?”

He nods again with a shy smile. “Sorry.”

“You wanna party or go back to the hotel? It’s only 11,” you say, reaching for his wrist to check the time on his watch. “You said you wanted to party, but if I’m being honest with you… My feet are killing me.”

“We can order an Uber to go back,” he suggests with a shrug. “I feel tired now, I wanna go to bed.”

“Well if it isn’t my baby showing up again,” you joke, standing up and offering your hand to help him out. “Come on, let’s go back.”

The Uber ride is silent and quick. It’s really such a lazy thing to do, getting a car for such a short ride, but your feet really thanked you for that. 

When you arrive at the hotel, you both go straight to the elevator area and press the button to go up. It feels like an eternity passes before one of the many elevators arrives. You wait for a group of friends to exit before you enter. The door closes and you feel yourself back up until you hit the wall. Hoseok does the same. 

“Sorry for being the drunk friend all the time,” he apologizes. “I feel like you can never enjoy yourself when you know I’m gonna make a mess.”

“It’s ok, you don’t have to worry about that. I’m used to it.”

The elevator arrives at the 39th floor and you both exit quietly, walking in the direction of your rooms. Looking at Hoseok to your right, you wave him goodnight before opening the door and entering the room with a puff – you just need to be out of those heels.

Soon after, there’s a light knock at the door. 

“Hey,” you greet Hoseok, who’s standing a little taller now that you don’t have your shoes on anymore. “What are you doing?”

“I have to ask you something,” he says with a weird I was drunk five minutes ago and all of a sudden feel sober look. “What would you say if I kissed you right now?”

Is he really asking that? What the fuck?

“What?”

“Fuck it.”

Hoseok closes the gap between your bodies in half a second, reaching for your face with his hands. It’s not romantic or slow or delicate, it’s just intense. 

It’s also rushed. It ends too quickly.

When you open your eyes, you want to say something, but your body needs time to catch a breath. What just happened? What the hell is going on? Your brain is panicking.

“Sorry,” Hoseok starts with a low voice. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done that.”

He lets go of you completely and you can almost feel your body have a physical reaction to that. You want more? What the fuck?

He takes a step backwards to go back to his room, but you can’t just let him go like that. You have to do something. Do something!

“Maybe you should have,” you repeat his words, your voice just above a whisper. “I- I don’t know what else to say.”

The only thing you can do now is laugh. That is your only reaction, almost like a self-defense mechanism when awkward things happen. 

“Good. I’m going back to my room now.” He’s smiling too, taking backwards steps so he doesn’t have to turn his back to you. “Breakfast tomorrow at 9?”

“Sure,” you agree, nodding your head with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Cool. I’ll try not to be late.”

“I’m not counting on it.”

“Sleep well,” he says with a smile and finally turns to get inside his room. 

How am I supposed to sleep after this?

Read more ›› masterlist

[talesfromamisspentyouth]

I took a pill in ibiza

Ever felt the joy of youthful wonderment? That feeling you get stepping off the plane in a foreign country, when the sun hits you? That feeling is inescapably good, and I’ve been chasing it my entire life.  This is a story about one such occasion, one holiday, and one fucking strong pill. We’d been in Ibiza about 4 days, it was our first holiday away from our parents. We were seasoned drug users by this point, and what other place to visit than the mecca? We had hit it hard most nights but we were showing no signs of slowing up, especially on my mate’s birthday. 
 So far the clubs hadn’t really been our scene, we were into hard beats, not balearic bullshit, it was too slow, too posery, too soft. The clubs were packed with guys with terrible clothes, too smashed for their own good. We spent most of our time at the bars, and then back to our hotel room for the post session. 
 Anyway, it was my mate let’s call hi ‘Steve’s” birthday so we were going out no matter what. There was three of us so it kind of made for a bit of an awkward dynamic, but we were managing. Me and Steve decided we would hit up a super club I forget the name but it has a fucking massive observatory on the top level. These clubs sort of melt into one after a while. We had pre drinks, negotiated the lines :) and made our way into the club. It was the same old thin, shit music, guys who engage non shit banter, and just overall a bit of a miserable experience.  Michael (friend three) didn’t want to be there any more, so he left and me and Steve were sat miserably in said auditorium.   Oh, I forgot to mention we had decided we aren’t going to do pills on this night, taking a break. So we are sat debating when to go home when a character comes looming into our conversation. He looked like a cross between a cockney villain and someone out of Oliver Twist.   ��� Do you want to buy any pills?” Strange man said

“Uhh, not sure, uh not really “ I answered.

Steve nudged me and made the case that It was his birthday and it would be the right thing to do, we would only do one. Reluctantly I agreed.

“Okay then can we just get two?” I said.

“ 20 euros” the man said

“Okay”

We paid the guy and got the pills. As he was about to leave, he looked at us and said:

“These are the best pills on the island, running men”

Sure, I thought, they all fucking say that, every pill is the best pill ever. We necked the pills with a luekwarm shite bottle of overpriced water and waited. Then we waited some more, and then some more. These weren’t working they must be a dud.  Fuck this we thought, and decided to leave . As we were making our way outside to the humid night air, I started to feel some panic setting in. I was more than used to coming up, so I was not massively worried but out just began snowballing. The more it went on the worse I felt. This was bad. I became convinced I was going to die.

As you can imagine this was a terrible feeling,, I began to freak out. I kept picturing the guys face, he’d stitch us up, I was sure of it. He’d fucking killed me. I could picture my mum finding out, the headlines back at home. I had to tell my mate.

“Listen mate I’m gonna die, those are dodgy pills, my liver is gonna fail “

It’s hard to convey the terror you feel in a situation like that, it was horrific. I knew there was no way out of it, I’d taken the pill it was too late, this was how I was gonna die. I was a mess by now, we were waiting for a bus home and my mate was trying to keep me calm.

It must have been about half an hour, then something really strange happened. It was almost like instantly the fear disintegrated and I was completely sober. I felt literally nothing. This was a fucking joyous feeling for me, I was alive. I told my mate and he said he had been thinking the exact same stuff but I was freaking out so he didn’t want to freak  out as well, as it would have gotten even worse. The bus pulled up and I was so fucking glad to be going back to the hotel, though there were no seats so we had to sit on the floor on the back on the bus. There was a rowdy group of dick heads behind singing football songs but I was trying to ignore it. We weren’t really talking too much just trying to piece together what happened and what would have been in the pills. Maybe they were a dud. Then something fucking strange happened. I got this jolt of a rush. Now, I’m not talking about a standard feeling from a pill, I’m talking it was as if God himself had lit up[ every synapse in my being and I was sitting in Nirvana. It was completely absurd. I immediately told my mate what was happening and he agreed, they were starting to kick in. This was not the result I was expecting. I had come to terms with these pills being a dud, and surviving the death, but now, fucking hell. Fuck this was the best feeling I’d ever had in my entire life. My body was washing with waves of euphoria, warm loving feelings were permeating every part of my body. This was ecstasy as I understood it. It’s so hard to put into words just how good this feeling is. It’s a feeling you then want to chase for your entire life, its that good. The bus journey didn’t even seem real, I don’t remember how we knew what stop to get off at. I just remember we did get off the bus. We were locked in conversation in that insanely appeasing way that pills do. It was justo important.  The excitement was off the scale, we couldn’t believe we had actually had the best pill on the island. How had this happened?? Divine intervention. My body was rushing everywhere, I’d never felt this good in my life, pulsating rays of contentment were splashing around my body. I felt alive, I felt one. We had struggled to find out hotel the whole time we had been in San Antonio, relying on Michael to get us where we needed to be. This time however it was like we connected to some shared universal GPS, we chatted and chatted, but neither of us spoke a single work about what turn to take or where we were going, but somehow we arrived at our destination. This was when we saw a figure merging from the morning sun, jaw swinging wildly. In pixelated vision we couldn’t quite work out who it was. Then as they approached we realised it was Michael, and he was just as off his head as us. This was incredible. We regaled him the story of the running man, the greatest pill known to man. He listened but I don’t think he understood.

We spent the rest of the morning sipping red wine with a random girl we met and watching the ocean. Nights don’t get much better than this. I miss being young, I miss being happy, I miss Ibiza.

[miafic]

AU ONLY

tw for suicide stuff

Geoff clicked open his email, and the first thing that caught his eye was a message from Awsten with NO SUBJECT in the subject line. Curiously, he clicked it; Awsten hadn’t sent him an email since he lived with the Woods.

Hey. I’m so sorry but if your reading this I’m dead.

Instantly, the blood drained from Geoff’s face. 

I just OD'ed on the pain pills from your cabinet and I’m sorry I know you told me not to go in your room and I’m sorry I stole your Tylenol but I just can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this and I don’t know how else to make it stop.

I need you to know that it’s not your fault. And I’m so sorry.

And I have some bad news, I was gonna bring the pills to the lake and then take them but I got all worked up and took them here and now I feel so sick that I’m just trying to send this email so I’m gonna die at home and I didn’t want to do that to you but fuck Mr. W I’m so fucking tired.

I’m so sorry but you will be better without me I promise.

“No, I won’t be,” Geoff whispered. He was frozen to his chair, hand pressed over his lips, even as students were chatting and laughing in their seats.

I set this message to send later so you won’t see it til after school starts cause I know you check your email like eighteen times before school and that way you can’t do anything to help me. I don’t want to live. If I’m not dead somehow please don’t try to make me live.

Anyway your the best dad in the world and yeah that’s why I hugged you so long and tight tonight after you read to me, I just need you to know that I love you. Fuck. Fuck. Please don’t be mad or upset, this isn’t your fault.

Please tell Tuna I love her and it’s not her fault either. I know you always need to understand everything or whatever so just yeah I’m just still fucked up from the incident and I’m done with the bullshit about how it’s gonna get better, it’s not better and neither am I so I’m done now. I am ready to sleep for a very long time.

I have a fuck ton more I want to say too you but I’m too tired so I’m going to sleep now.

My stomach really fucking hurts.

Yeah I love you I’ll miss you. I’m sorry I hope you’re not too sad cause I know you love me too. Thank you for everything. I wouldn't have made it past June without you.

Love, Awsten

“Mr. W?” someone was asking. “Mr. W? Are you okay?”

Geoff slowly looked up to see ten concerned seniors looking at him. “I…” he began, dazed. “I…”

They all stared at him in alarm.

“I am sorry?” he whispered, the words coming out almost like a question, and he stood and walked dizzily toward the door. He paused before he exited. “Go to the office, please, one of you,” he instructed without looking back. “Tell them… that I have left for the day.” And he set off for home.

He drove quickly, but the short trip still felt like it took hours.

Geoff was short of breath as he pulled into the garage and stumbled into the house. “Awsten!” he called hoarsely. “Awsten!”

Silence.

Tuna came running toward him, and he bent down and lifted her, pressing her tightly to his chest. He could feel his heart rate quicken, but he had no power to stop it.

“Tuna, where is he?” Geoff breathed. Then he realized. “If - if he were dead or dying, you would not leave his side, would you?” He looked down at her and repeated weakly, “Would you?”

Geoff looked up the staircase. “Awsten?” he pleaded one last time.

There was still no answer.

Geoff shut his eyes. He didn’t want to find another lifeless body in his home, but what choice did he have?

He started up the creaking stairs, Tuna still nestled in his arms.

Please, he begged. Please do not be dead. I do not want him to be dead.

He pushed Awsten’s door open further and stood for several long moments with his eyes glued to the floor. He stayed still, just listening, but there was no sound. No speaking, no music, no breaths. Just complete silence.

“Awsten,” Geoff whispered, still staring down at the hardwood beneath his feet, “are you there?”

When there was no response, Geoff looked up.

There was no dead body; there was no body at all.

—

“What do you mean, he just left?” John demanded. “And why are you asking me about it?”

Annie Harrison crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re his only real friend here.”

“Yeah, well, I haven’t spoken to him since August, so I have no idea.”

“Well, where could he have gone? What could have happened?”

“I just told you that I don’t know. Did anyone look at his computer screen?”

“It was his email account, but it had automatically logged him off by the time one of the students suggested we check.”

John sighed. “Well, the only things he cares about in the world other than books and his students are Awsten Knight and that damn cat, and unless he’s bailing Awsten out of some sort of trouble, I don’t know where he could be.” He frowned. “Although that wouldn’t be too much of a stretch, would it?”

Annie just stared at him.

“What did Derek say about his facial expression again?”

“That he looked ‘like somebody died.’”

John shrugged. “I don’t know, Annie. The only relative he had was his grandma, and she died before I even met him, I think. He’s alone.”

She sighed. “Well, if you hear anything-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll let you know,” he sighed, waving her off. He could hear his kids joking around inside his classroom, but he pulled his phone out of his pocket instead of going in to to quiet them down. To Geoff, he texted, Where are you? Admins are not happy.

He heard footsteps coming toward him, and he looked in their direction as he slid his phone back into his pocket.

There, staggering down the hallway, headed straight for Mr. W’s classroom, was none other than Awsten Knight.

“Grapes?” John asked aloud, and then he quickly shook his head. “Uh - Awsten? What are you doing here?”

Awsten looked over at him, and the blank look in his eyes made John freeze. Something was really, really wrong. He felt that much in his gut.

Suddenly, he worried that Awsten had a gun and was ready to finish whatever Michael had started. He was just wearing a ratty white t-shirt and a pair of thin, plaid pajama pants, though. His hands were empty, and he definitely wasn’t storing a weapon anywhere. The kid didn’t even have shoes on.

“Awsten,” John repeated anxiously, and he started toward the Lakeview High alum. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking for my dad,” he slurred.

John had heard through the grapevine that a restraining order had been put in place to keep Awsten and his father separate, and regardless, as far as John knew, the guy was still in prison. “Your dad? Is he in Lakeview?”

With a shaky hand, Awsten pointed to the door of Geoff’s classroom.

“Geoff?”

Awsten nodded.

“Mr. W.”

Awsten nodded again, and his hand moved to clutch weakly at his stomach. Quietly, he burped, but he didn’t take his hand away. Instead, he muttered, “I want my dad.”

John zeroed in on Awsten’s wide pupils. This is so messed up. “Awsten, are you high?”

“I don’t feel good,” he responded, not answering the question. “I ODed last night, and I sent him a suicide note,” he explained in a tired, trembling voice, “but I didn’t die. At least I think I didn’t...” He blinked, confused, and looked at John. “I’m looking for my dad.”

“You sent Geoff a suicide note?” John repeated quietly.

“Yeah. Where is he?”

“Not here.”

Awsten honest-to-god pouted. He looked miserable.

John just felt disturbed. “Because he went looking for you.”

Right in the middle of the hallway, Awsten’s face crumbled, and he began to cry.

“Shit,” John hissed, and he stepped toward Awsten. “Listen - listen, Awsten, you’re still sick, aren’t you? We-” And then it dawned on him. “Shit, we need to call an ambulance.”

Awsten didn’t respond. He’d decided that it would be a good idea to sit down on the floor and bury his face in his knees as he softly sobbed.

John kept an eye on him while he dialed 911.

—

Just as Geoff finished his second trek around the lake, his phone began to vibrate. John was calling.

“If you are calling to berate me for my absence,” Geoff spat into the phone, but John interrupted him.

“Geoff, listen. Listen. We found Awsten. He came to school looking for you.”

Geoff was stunned into silence.

“He’s drugged out of his mind, and one of the paramedics seemed a little stressed about whether or not he was gonna make it, but yeah, he’s not dead.”

Geoff still couldn’t find any words.

“Listen, man, I’m sorry, okay? I know we had our differences, but he turned up at school asking for his dad, and I - shit, I get it now. Sort of. I mean, maybe not, but I get it a little bit. He’s your kid.”

“Which hospital?” Geoff choked out.

“What?”

“Which hospital are they taking him to?”

“Petekey Memorial. Look, Geoff, I-”

Geoff hung up the phone and started running.

—

“…and he’s on NAC now to help his liver, and I think that’s about it. He’s going be here for at least twenty-four hours, and then we’ll have to move him to a psychiatric facility for at least seventy-two.”

“Yes - of course.” 

Geoff and the nurse stopped in front of an open door.

“Go on in,” she said. “He was awake a few minutes ago, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he still is now. He’s pretty confused, but let me tell you, he sure knows how to work a remote.”

Sure enough, Awsten was inside incessantly flipping channels on the TV. Geoff stood silently and watched him, just glad to see him breathing.

It took a little bit for Awsten to notice him, and when he finally looked over, Geoff could tell that it took a moment for Awsten to recognize him. Once he did, though, the boy’s face broke into a tired smile. “Dad,” he stated simply, almost like he was labeling Geoff more than greeting him, and he put the remote down and held out his arms.

Geoff crossed the room toward him, leaned down, and wrapped him up as tightly as he could without moving any cords or hurting him. “Don’t you ever do that to me again,” he said sternly.

“Which part?” Awsten asked, his words running together.

“Any of them.”

Awsten chuckled.

“It is absolutely not funny. You and I are going to have a very long discussion about this when you return home.”

“Kay,” Awsten replied easily. He leaned his head against Geoff’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Geoff exhaled heavily and sat down on the edge of Awsten’s bed, still embracing him. “And I you.” He was quiet for a moment. “You frightened me. Terribly. I do not think you could ever understand.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna sleep now, okay?”

Geoff sighed. “Awsten, you are treating this like a joke, and it is not funny.”

“I was waiting for you,” Awsten stated dreamily, ignoring Geoff’s words. “They told me you were coming, so I waited and waited forever and ever and ever for you to get here. They made me drink things and take pills and they keep putting needles in me. They said I could sleep, and I said, ‘No, not if I don’t get to see my dad!’ But now I saw you, so I can go to sleep.”

While he’d been speaking, Geoff had pulled back to look at him. John had been correct; Awsten was still being heavily affected by the drugs he’d taken. Geoff would be unable to reason with him for some time.

“What do you need from me?” Geoff asked.

“Just stay,” Awsten said as he burrowed into his pillows. His hospital bracelet made a strange sound as it rubbed against the cheap sheets. 

As the teenager closed his eyes, Geoff felt the strangest urge to reach out and touch his head. Since Awsten was so out of it, Geoff decided not to fight it. He set his hand gently on Awsten’s hair. 

Awsten opened his eyes and smiled lightly at him. “I’m in big trouble, huh?” he asked, and something about his teasing tone reminded Geoff of his interactions with Awsten from the previous school year.

Geoff started to say yes, but he hesitated. He wasn’t angry - not anymore. And Awsten hadn’t been trying to harm anyone but himself. “I... do not know. We shall have to see about that when you feel better.” 

“Oh, okay.” Awsten shut his eyes again. “Love you.” 

Geoff didn’t respond, but it didn’t seem to matter, because within less than three minutes, Awsten was sound asleep.

[whumpdoyoumean]

I’VE COMPLETED MY FIRST BINGO SQUARE!!! @badthingshappenbingo

Happy birthday @the-whumpy-fangirl and thank you for the request!

Prompt: Coughing up blood; Fandom: Firefly; Whumpee: Simon

Read it on Ao3 here or down below!

If a fight breaks out, Simon is to either get out of the building or find someplace to stand where it’s unlikely he’ll catch a fist or an elbow or a pool cue. That’s always been the rule, unspoken because Simon really isn’t one who needs to be told to avoid senseless violence and because frankly, he can’t fight worth shit.

So it’s a surprise to everyone when he boards the Serenity with a facefull of blood and bruises, one arm draped around Jayne’s shoulder, the other curled around his ribs. He looks miserable, humiliated, and fed-up, all rolled into a single expression that would be less amusing if not for the fact that it’s paired with Jayne’s broad smile.

Kaylee wears a look of shock, eyes huge and eyebrows high. Book looks worried for a moment before saying something no one hears and hurrying off, presumably to the infirmary or to find River or both. Zoe looks unimpressed.

Wash snorts and says in a loud whisper, “I can’t wait to hear this one.”

And Mal, well he just glares at Jayne. “What in the tien shiao duh did you do to my medic?”

“Well, that’s the thing, see,” Jayne says, and his grin grows wider, bordering on gleeful. “He started it!”

xxx a few hours earlier

The thing about surviving an encounter with someone like Jubal Early is that the things that used to seem intimidating or dangerous suddenly don’t. Simon has a scar on his leg to remind him every day that he’d danced with the devil, and he’d come out of it (mostly) intact. And what are drunk, pissed off idiots compared to the devil?

It’s with this mindset that Simon decides to explore Aberdeen, despite its being, as Jayne so eloquently put it, “colder’n a witch’s tit.” His leg hadn’t allowed him to actually leave during shoreleave the last several times they landed, so it’s been weeks since he left the ship. He’s going stir-crazy, and he’s not sure he can make it til the next port. So, he’ll brave the cold.

He digs through his chest until he finds the tailored coat he has folded up in the bottom--a gray, knee-length, double-breasted thing that’s no doubt going to make him stick out like a sore thumb. He pulls it on and is surprised at how familiar and almost comfortable the weight of it is, despite his not having worn it in years. The feeling goes sour though, as all thoughts of what used be home do, and he quickly pushes them down, as he always does.

He does some quick stretches for his leg before peeking into his sister’s bunk. “Hey, River?” He peeks around the door and sighs. Of course she isn’t there. Which means she’s probably in the mess, or Kaylee’s room, or maybe the Shepherd’s (assuming she’s not just wandering around). He heads for the mess first, calling out for her as he goes and checking each room he passes. There’s no sign of her, until he hears the faint sound of her laugh mixing with the rest of the crew. It makes him smile, and he steps a little faster.

“River! I-” He rounds the corner into the mess, and the room falls silent. A quick look around reveals a lot of raised eyebrows and smothered smiles as they take in the sight of him in his coat.

Mal finally says, “What are you all dressed up for?” and his voice is tight with contained laughter, which quickly isn’t contained anymore, and Jayne joins in.

“Alright, alright,” Simon says, not even attempting to hide his annoyance at once again becoming the laughingstock of the ship.

“I think it looks nice,” Kaylee says. “It’s just so...so rich-looking is all. More than usual even.”

Mal wipes at his eye and sighs. “Really, though, what are you doing? ‘Cus she’s right, that’s a mighty fancy coat to be wearing someplace like Aberdeen.”

“It’s the warmest thing I have,” Simon says, trying not to sound defensive. “And I’m going for a walk because I need to get off this ship. It’s been weeks and I could use the exercise.”

Mal nods toward Simon’s left thigh. “Leg’s feelin’ better then?”

“Much.”

The captain claps him on the shoulder. “Good! Why don’t you wait a minute, Jayne’ll go out with you.”

Simon opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again with a frown. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“And I ain’t babysittin’,” Jayne grunts. “Just got a call from a lady friend of mine recognized the ship, wanted a...” A wicked look crosses his features and he wiggles his eyebrows. “...conjugal visit, if you catch my meaning.”

Kaylee makes a face that perfectly mirrors how Simon is feeling and he makes a small sound of disgust. “Very clearly, yes. Look, I just wanted to tell River that I would be gone for a few hours.” He looks over at her and raises his eyebrows. “And that she is to try and keep out of trouble while I’m gone.”

“Message received,” River says, and smiles. “Loud and clear.”

“We’ll keep a good eye on her,” Kaylee adds.

Simon takes a deep breath and manages a smile of his own. “Of course you will, thank you.”

“Just make sure you’re back ‘fore sundown,” Mal says. “I’m sure Wash’ll have the nav system sorted by then, and then we’re off this rock.” He doesn’t add ‘with or without you,’ but it’s implied.

“Understood, Cap’n.”  

He makes it through the ship without bumping into anyone else, which he’s grateful for. He just wants to get away from everyone for awhile. He almost changes his mind when he gets outside;  the cold is so sharp it steals his breath away and stings his face.

He hurries to the first store he can find, rushing in and letting out a sigh at the warmth. The door closes behind him, a little bell ringing as it does. He takes a few more steps in and looks around, trying to figure out what kind of shop he’s in. There are knick-knacks by the windows and hatchets hanging on the back wall, and some creepily life-like stuffed animals that he’s beginning to think are actual stuffed animals.

There aren’t many others in the store, and he catches a few of them staring, though they shift their attention if he looks at them, pretending like they weren’t just watching him. Even so, he can feel their eyes on him, and he knows what kind of staring it is. Not the curious kind, but the judging kind. The resentful kind. It’s enough to drive him back out into the cold.

He has similar experiences in the next few places he enters, so he never stays more than a few minutes. He’s in a tea shop when he finally grows sick of it, and he approaches the tiny woman behind the counter.

“Excuse me. Can you tell me where I can find someplace to sit, like a bar or a cafe or…” He gestures vaguely, then shrugs.

She looks him up and down with narrowed eyes, then holds a hand out.

“Um…”

“You’ve got spare change, right?”

Simon takes a deep breath and forces himself not to roll his eyes as he digs in his coat pocket. “Here,” he says, dropping a few coins onto her palm. She slips the coins into a pouch at her hip, then points.

“That way, on the left. Place called Waldmann’s.”

“Sheh-sheh,” Simon says with a nod, and turns to the door. He’s almost there when she calls out to him.

“They ain’t gonna like the look of you. I don’t like the look of you.”

This time he does roll his eyes.

The bar isn’t that far, but by the time he gets there his face and fingers and toes are numb. There are more people inside than he would have expected for the relatively early hour, and it’s obvious most of them are just off work. Simon’s pretty sure there’s a mine on this side of the planet, which would make sense given the griminess of the patrons. They watch him as he makes his way to the bar, and unlike the people he’s faced previously they don’t look away from him, instead holding his gaze with eyes that are almost as cold as the weather.

Simon does his best to ignore them. There was a time when he would’ve been intimidated by the sea of dusty, angry faces, but now he’s more annoyed than anything. When he finally makes it to the counter, he leans against it and clears his throat to get the bartender’s attention. The man looks up and takes a long look at Simon and his lip actually curls.

“Can I get a coffee?” Simon asks.

The bartender snorts with a shake of his head. “Ain’t got coffee here, boy.”

Simon scrubs a hand across his face. “Tea, then?”

“What kind of jing-zhang mei yong-duh place do you think this is?”

“Do you have anything warm to drink?” Simon has given up trying to keep the annoyance from his words.

“Got whiskey, that’ll warm you up some.” The bartender smirks as a few of the men at the bar laugh.

Simon grits his teeth. “Can I just get a glass of water, then?”

“Gotta be a payin’ customer if you want water.”

“Pyen juh duh jiou cha wen,” Simon mutters under his breath, getting his wallet out of his pocket and pulling out a few bills. He slaps them on the counter. “Fine. I’ll take a whiskey and a water. Please.”

The bartender makes a show of counting the money before pouring Simon his drinks and sliding them across the counter to him.

“Much obliged,” Simon says, and picks up the glasses before heading for an empty table in the back corner of the establishment. At least there he can sit and rest his leg while people shoot dirty looks at him and whisper to each other. The poor lighting makes it easier to pretend they’re not there. He sits with a sigh, then sips at his water. It’s cold and makes shivers run down his spine, but it’s also refreshing, and cleaner than he would’ve expected. He lifts the whiskey and sniffs at it, quickly setting it down when it makes his nostrils burn and his eyes water. It would warm him, yes, but it would probably also make him go blind and destroy his liver.

He’s contemplating asking for a refill on the water when a man approaches the table. He’s bigger than Simon, and it’s obvious from the look on his face and from the way he carries himself--backs straightened, chest puffed out--that he’s looking to start something.

“Hey, pretty boy,” he says, and he has a thick Dyton accent. He frowns when Simon doesn’t respond. “Oy, I’m talking to you!”

“I heard you, yes,” Simon says, and it takes no effort to sound as unimpressed as he feels. He doesn’t bother looking up at the man. He wants him to know that he’s not worth his full attention.

“I dunno what you think yer doin’ here. We’re not much fans of the Alliance in these parts.” Some nearby men murmur in agreement behind him.

Annoyance it taking a turn toward anger, and Simon grips his glass a little harder. “I’m not Alliance.”

“Like hell, you’re not,” the man says, and reaches forward, grabbing Simon’s whiskey and drinking the whole thing. Simon finally looks up, fixing the man with a cold stare of his own.

“I paid for that,” he says speaking slowly through a tightened jaw. He wasn’t going to drink it anyway, but he can feel his temper rising.

“What’re you goin’a do about it, bao bei?” the man says with a grin.

Simon shakes his head and stands up. It’s probably time to get back to the Serenity. He walks around the table to leave, but the man steps in front of him. and Simon bumps into him, then takes a step back, looking up at the man’s face.

“Step out of my way,” he says, his voice nearly a growl.

“Why don’t you make me?” the man says.

And that’s when Simon hits him, hard, right in the nose. The man stumbles back, letting out a string of curses as blood pours down his face.

Well that was easy, Simon thinks, and then a fist flies into his face and he realizes he’s just gotten himself into a very bad situation as four men descend on him like vultures on roadkill. He fights back as best he can, but he’s not an experienced fighter and they overpower him easily. It’s not long before he’s on the floor, curled up with his arms over his head to try and protect what he can as fists and feet rain down on him. He feels ribs crack, and a second later a foot finds the fresh bullet scar on his leg. The pain makes his vision go black for a moment, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that he’s probably about to get beaten to death. He closes his eyes and waits.

And then he hears cries, the sound of glass breaking, and the blows suddenly stop.

“Well, shit. You’re not already dead, are ya?”

Simon frowns at the familiar voice and opens his eyes to see a mildly concerned looking Jayne looking down at him with that ridiculous orange and yellow hat of his.

“Jayne?” The word comes out garbled and Simon turns to the side and spits out blood before taking Jayne’s outstretched hand. He groans as he’s pulled to his feet. Everything hurts and he almost collapses, but Jayne holds him up.

“You shouldn’t start fights you can’t win,” the mercenary says. There’s a smirk in his voice.

“Wait. You saw the whole thing?” Simon says as they start out.

“Yep,” Jayne says.

“And you couldn’t intervened a little sooner?”

“Well, I thought it was kinda funny, but then you stopped fightin’ back, and I knew Cap’n wouldn’t be too happy if’n I let anything permanent happen. ‘Sides now you owe me one.”

Simon groans.

It’s going to be a long walk.

xxx

“What in the tien shiao duh did you do to my medic?” Mal says, taking in the sight of Simon all black and blue and red.

“Well, that’s the thing, see. He started it!” Jayne says, and laughs.

Simon glares. “I didn’t start it,” he says.  “I threw the first punch, but I didn’t start it. Just get me to my med bay, please.”

Mal hurries over and pulls Simon’s free arm around his shoulders. “Your med bay? I think you mean my med bay.” He turns to Zoe and Kaylee. “Zoe, go tell Wash we’re ready to head out. Kaylee, make sure the engine starts up way it should.”

They both nod and do as he says, though Kaylee lingers for a moment before she leaves.

“What exactly happened?” Mal says as he and Jayne and Simon make their way to the infirmary.

“They didn’t like my coat,” Simon responds. “And then Jayne watched while they kicked my ass.”

Malcolm looks over at Jayne with a raised eyebrow.

“What!” Jayne cries, and looks like he’s going to deny it, and then his expression turns sheepish. “Only for a minute. I didn’t let ‘em kill him!”

Mal rolls his eyes. “You best hope young Simon doesn’t use the same philosophy next time you find yourself in need of some doctorin’.”

By the time they make it to the infirmary, Simon’s feet are practically dragging, and Mal has to help him onto the exam chair. He’s out of breath, but he’s conscious which is a good thing ‘cus he’s the only one who knows what he’s doing in this room.

“Get me a cloth,  please,” he says. “While I get this yu bun duh coat off.”

Mal looks around, then back at Simon. “And cloths would be…?”

“Under the sink,” Simon says.

“Anything I can do?” Jayne asks from the doorway.

“Leave,” Simon and Mal say at the same time, and Jayne hurries off without argument.

Mal grabs a cloth from under the sink and takes it to Simon. “Here.”

“Sheh-sheh,” Simon says, taking it. “And the bottle of disinfectant there, with the green top.”

“This?” Mal says, holding up a bottle.

Simon nods. “Yes, thank you. And can you hold up the mirror for me please?”

“Is now really the time to be pampering?” Mal says, and lets out a laugh that quickly dies off when he sees how miserable the doctor is. He finds the mirror and returns to Simon’s side, holding it up.

Simon pours some of the disinfectant onto the cloth and sets about cleaning his face, letting out small noises of pain as the solution comes into contact with the small cuts on Simon’s cheeks and temple.

“This is the second time in as many months you’ve had to work on yourself,” Mal says. “Hope you’re not making a habit of it.”

That gets a small smile out of Simon. “I think I need to learn how to fight,” he says. “I think I’m done with the mirror now.” He doesn’t look quite so bad with the blood washed from his face--a black eye, a split lip, a few small cuts, but otherwise okay. It’s the expression he’s wearing that concerns Mal.

“Hey. You okay?”

Simon nods, but he looks worried. Scared even.

“Are you sure?” Mal asks, and his concern spikes when he hears a slight rattling each time Simon breathes. “You’re wheezing.”

“‘m okay,” Simon says, and then breaks into a violent coughing fit. His bends almost in half, body shaking with the force of it, and when he’s finally done there’s blood on the inside of the elbow he coughed into and on his lips and he’s shaking.

“Tah mah duh hwoon dahn!” Mal cries. “That’s not okay! You’re-that’s-”

“t’s okay,” Simon gasps as he tries to catch his breath. “Just...pulmonary contusion…”

“What?”

“Bruised...bruised lungs. ‘ve got...got blood in my lungs. Just need to cough it up. ‘m okay.”

Mal stares at him, eyes wide, and tries not to panic. “You and I have very different definitions of okay! How is that okay? Blood in your lungs?”

“Hand me the-” Simon points frantically and Mal grabs the puke basin, shoving it into Simon’s hands just as he starts coughing again, barking hacks that sound painful and exhausting.

Mal is reminded of the time he got pneumonia as a teen, and his chest aches at the memory. He moves forward and positions himself beside the chair. When Simon’s coughing pauses again, Mal takes the basin from his hands and holds it. It’s a small gesture, and he’s not sure Simon understands it, but he does it anyway. He’s not sure how much time passes, but finally Simon leans back against the chair, and his breathing sounds better.

“Done?” Mal asks.

Simon nods and Mal takes the basin to the sink, empties it, and runs some water in it. When he turns back around, Simon’s eyes are closed.

“Hey, now.” Mal walks over and gives the doctor’s shoulder a shake.

“Hmm,” Simon responds.

“Let’s get you to your bunk,” Mal says.

“‘m fine here”

“After a beating like that, you wanna sleep in your own bed. Trust me.” He pulls Simon’s arm around his shoulders, helping the young man to his feet. He lets out a low groan, moving gingerly and curling his free arm around his ribs.

“Got it?” Mall asks, and Simon nods wordlessly. They shuffle awkwardly along, and it’s slow going, but Mal doesn’t mind. He suspects Simon might be embarrassed about it later, though.

“Aiya,” Simon suddenly swears.

“What?” Mal stiffens, worried the young man might start coughing again. When he looks over at Simon, though, his ears are red, and Mal smiles with understanding. “Gotta piss?’

Simon bobs his head.

“Alright, I’ll get you there but I’m not holding you up while you do it.” Simon doesn’t answer, and Mal guides him to the nearest head. A few minutes pass, and Mal is worried Simon may have passed out, when the door opens and Simon staggers forward, his face pale.

“Pissing blood?” Mal asks.

“A little,” Simon says.

“That was one helluva beating, huh?”

Simon hums in response. A few steps later, he says, “Why’re you being so nice to me?”

The question takes him by surprise, but Mal knows what the answer is. When that bounty hunter had been aboard the Serenity, Simon had been alone with the maniac and he'd been...brave. Defiant. He hadn’t talked about it much, but Mal could tell from the bullet hole in his leg. He isn’t the same person he’d been when he first boarded Serenity with his sister.He sure as hell isn’t the same person Mal used to think he was. He’s not some spoiled rich kid anymore. And though Mal would never admit it, Simon is almost starting to feel like one of the crew.

That’s what the answer is. What Mal says is, “A good ass kicking is the mark of a man.”

“I thought getting shot took care of that,” Simon answers.

Mal chuckles. “You would think. But it’s actually getting the go se kicked out of you that does it.”

“Then you must be pretty...damn manly.”

“Must be.”

The rest of the walk to Simon’s bunk passes in silence, and by the time they get there Mal’s taking most of the doctor’s weight. The two of them barely fit in the cramped space.

“There ya go,” Mal grunts, easing Simon onto his bed.

Simon lets out a long sigh and closes his eyes. “My bed never felt so good.” His words are slightly slurred, and Mal can tell he’s already falling asleep.

“You rest up,” he says. “You never know when one of us might need those steady hands of yours.” He’s leaving when Simon answers, his voice quiet.

“Thanks, Cap.”

Mal freezes. It’s the first time Simon has called him that.He smiles and turns around. He’s pretty sure the kid’s already sleep, but he replies anyway. “You’re welcome.”

xxx

[adiseaselikeyouspreads]

Jason’s dad rents a pruning saw and cuts off the branches closest to his window.

When Dmitri finds out, he says, “Damn. I knew some shit would happen, but still! So soon! A good thing has died too young!” He flails around a bit of school enchilada on his plastic fork and slumps against his hand. “There goes my surprise party plans.” He stuffs his food in his mouth. Then perks up. “I could always bring my own ladder.”

“I think you should skip on the window sneaking for now,” Regan says, mildly amused. He’s actually got a lunch with him, for once, picking at some reheated chicken parmesan.

They were sitting outside today, on some back steps near the band hall. Jason hadn’t felt up to sitting in the lunchroom. The whole ‘having to hear people whispering about him constantly’ thing had gotten pretty tiring.

Rose and Riley are joining them today, the first time besides the party that Jason has really hung out with the four of them.

“The window thing is so freaky,” Rose says, with a mild shudder. “I wonder if you can, like, glue your window shut.”

“Do you keep a knife in your room, Voorhees?” Riley asks, scooping up a spoonful of applesauce.

“Uh. No, I’m not a big fan of the whole idea of… stabbing,” Jason says, staring at his sandwich, trying to will himself to be hungry.

“You should invest in some self defense stuff, bro,” Dmitri states, while goring his enchilada.

“I could teach you a few things,” Regan offers, after a swig of what Jason can only assume is a protein shake, or something like that.

“Like what?” Jason asks.

“Wrestling pins, or how to get out of holds.”

“You’ve never offered to pin me to the floor, bro,” Dmitri interjects, putting a hand on Regan’s leg.

Regan stares at it for a second, takes another swig of his drink, then says, “That’s because you’d like it too much.”

Riley and Rose laugh a little and Dmitri shrugs. “Fair enough.”

“I’ll consider it,” Jason says, getting them back on topic. “Thanks, Regan.”

“No problem.”

Jason nods a little and thinks about it. It might be useful, to not have to be totally afraid and helpless anymore.

“God, what do they put in here?” Dmitri spouts of out nowhere, having thoroughly decimated his food. “What kind of meat even is this?”

“Oh!” Rose sits up, flailing her hand excitedly as she swallows her food. “Did you hear about the latest Cannibal kill? I heard he cut them open and ate their organs.”

There’s this uneasy pause.

Dmitri breaks the silence by asking, “Which ones?”

“I don’t know, babe. Lots of them.”

“That seems like a lot of effort to go through,” he says, contemplatively, as he shoves mystery meat in his mouth. “I mean, not the eating part. But to gut someone, you’ve gotta cut from here,” he points at his sternum with his plastic spork, then motions all the way down to his pelvis. “To here. Takes a lot of elbow grease. Then everything spills out. Like a fish, I guess.”

“Urp.” That’s the sound of Regan gagging.

Riley lets her spoonful of applesauce slide back into the container, pulling a face.

Jason can’t believe what he’s hearing.

Rose goes ahead with a good, old-fashioned swatting Dmitri’s arm. “That’s gross, babe.”

“I’m just stating the facts!”

“I’m trying to eat for once, Dmitri,” Regan groans, frowning at his pasta.

“You guys are weak,” Dmitri responds, talking through the rice he’s just shovelled into his mouth.

“Why do you even care what organs he ate?” Jason asks, pulling a bit of lettuce out of his sandwich.

“It’s important to figuring the guy out, probably,” Dmitri says. “And I took anatomy and physiology. I’m an expert in this.”

“An expert in determining MBTI types based on organ eating?” Riley asks, still looking put off.

“Seriously, I’m eating,” Regan whines, turning over his chicken with distaste. Dmitri rolls his eyes. It looks like the conversation is over, for a second.

“Do you think he put the liver in the mailbox?” Dmitri asks, while opening his milk.

“Oh my God,” Jason breathes, more disappointed than anything. Something tickles the back of his mind, though. Dmitri talked about gutting like he knows how much effort it takes. The fact that he’s so casual about the idea of eating organs… But Dmitri hasn’t tried to kill him yet.

“Cut it out,” Rose huffs, whacking Dmitri’s shoulder with a notebook, this time.

“The Cannibal’s nasty. I hope the Plague Doctor catches him, because I’m sick of hearing about him,” Riley says, crumpling her napkin, and putting it in her applesauce.

“You think they’ll be able to?” Rose asks, tilting her head.

“Well, they’ve already caught, like, twenty people.”

“Eleven,” Rose corrects.

“Twelve,” Regan correction-corrects.

“It’s not so much catching as more murder,” Jason grumbles, ripping his lettuce in half. “So the number seems irrelevant.”

“At least they’re taking care of killers,” Rose argues. “They could be horrible and, like, target sick people.”

“Best possible version of a killer named the Plague Doctor,” Riley agrees, nodding.  

“The best possible version would be them not existing,” Jason says, sourly. “If they wanted to do good, they should’ve just turned those people into the cops.”

“Pfft, when was the last time a killer actually got arrested?!” Dmitri laughs, sounding just a little cold. “I haven’t heard of one since fifth grade.”

“Did you hear that Steve’s back at school?” Rose asks.

“Shit, really?” Regan asks, softly. Dmitri pouts.

“Even when the cops get their hands on them, they just turn them loose,” Riley sighs.

“There’s got to be some kind of happy medium between a slap on the wrist and an impromptu execution,” Jason insists.

Dmitri mulls that over, leaning on his hand in an exaggerated thinking pose.

“A well thought out execution?” he finally supplies.

“Bad joke.” Jason responds, jiggling his leg nervously.

“I thought it was pretty good,” Dmitri pouts, leaning against Rose, who looks mildly amused as she runs her fingers through his hair. When he sees that, his chest gets all tight, like he’s being choked. He averts his eyes with some difficulty, Dmitri’s attention-attracting draw still pretty powerful, instead focusing on Regan - who, nevermind, is currently wrapping his arms around Riley and murmuring something into her ear and okay, no, none of that, thanks.

He forces himself to stare at the ground, at neither happy couple, and that makes his mind wander to Sidney.

If they hadn’t been talking before Jason’s murderous guardian angel spattered her new boyfriend’s brains all over Jason’s kitchen, they’re definitely not talking now.

She avoids even looking at him and he hasn’t even seen her walking her usual path between classes. She’s really going out of her way to dodge him. He sighs and packs up his lunch, standing slowly.

“Hey, I’m gonna… go.” He’d rather go sit in a bathroom stall or something than have to watch them be romantic and goopy. And he doesn’t want to be a buzzkill.

“See you around, Voorhees. Text you later!” Dmitri calls after him. Jason throws an unenthusiastic wave back as he leaves.

Not thinking about Dmitri, or Regan, or Sidney for the rest of the day is incredibly hard. One way or another, his mind drifts back to them.

Film club is, once more, no fun. It makes him sadder, because he used to be so excited to come every day. Now he kind of doesn’t want Mr. Beltrami anywhere near him. He keeps giving Jason these weird, almost-sorta-sympathetic looks. And the movies they watch are more drama and negativity on top of his already difficult and dramatic life. Couldn’t they watch something goofy even once? Like Zombieland? Eight Legged Freaks? Anything that wasn’t young couples being miserable in black-and-white?

He’s one of the first people to shuffle out when the group meeting is over, dodging Mr. Beltrami before he can catch him and try to talk to him about Sidney again.

Jogging down the hall to get towards the front of the school (ever since the Survivor, he’s always waited to get picked up by the front office), he hears someone call,

“Yo, Joon-ho!”

Being addressed makes Jason jumpy. He almost doesn’t pause, but then he does, turning to the source of the voice, shifting from foot to foot.

It’s Michael King, student council secretary. They were in World History together last year. He’s tall and has a nice smile and has a habit of wearing tight-fitting shirts, which distracted Jason in history class, because they never looked comfortable. He’s got a box of cookies in his hands.

Michael waves a hand to recapture his attention. “Hey. Have you heard I’m running for student council president?” He asks.

“Oh. Yeah, I’ve seen the posters…?” Is he about to do some campaign pitch at him?

Michael pops open the box of cookies and holds one out to Jason.

“Would you consider voting for me for president?”

“Is the cookie a bribe?” Jason asks, smiling just a little.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Michael jokes, holding his finger up to his mouth in a ‘shush’ motion.

Jason laughs and takes a bite of the cookie.

“I’ll consider it,” Jason agrees.

“Good to hear.” Michael grins. “I’ve got to go push a few more cookie-bribes. I’ll see you around.” He turns around and starts to go, around the corner. Jason munches on the cookie, thinking about the fact that someone else finally talked to him. The power of wanting to be president, he guesses.

All at once, he feels dizzy. His head becomes a fuzzy mess of sensation. He tries to prop himself against the wall, but just ends up slumping into it. He hears static in his ears. Then everything goes dark.

He’s very cold. His head his pounding and his consciousness is trickling back to him in parts. His fingers feel stiff and a little tingly. His arms hurt. As the mental fog comes off, he can hear yelling. Who’s yelling?

“Let me out of here!” Sidney shouts, tugging again on the rope binding her wrists.

“Wh…” Jason mumbles, finally waking up completely, shaking his head to try to shuck off the rest of the tiredness. “Sidney? Where are we?” He asks, panicked now.

“Good to see you finally awake, Jason,” comes a voice over an intercom, distorted by some device. “We’re going to-”

“Let us out of here, Michael!” Sidney demands.

“What’s going on?” Jason asks.

“Michael fucking locked us in here,” Sidney says, seeming more frustrated than scared.

“I told you, I’m not Michael, I’m der Drahtzieher!”

Sidney scoffs.

“Why don’t you just call yourself Mastermind? It’d be less pretentious, at least.”

“You understood that?” Jason asks.

“I’m in German III.” She shrugs.

“Michael, why are you doing this?” Jason asks, in no direction in particular. It’s hard to tell where exactly to face.

“Drahtzieher! And isn’t it obvious?” Michael replies. Jason’s heart sinks a little. Of course. Any time he gets talked to, it’s because someone wants to kidnap or kill him.

“Why’d you have to drag Sidney into it?” He asks.

“Because, we’re going to play a game.”

“Real original!” Sidney shouts, yanking again.

“You can both see the clock from where you’re sitting,” Michael continues, though he sounds agitated.

“Actually, it’s kind of hard to see from this angle…” Jason says.

“Shut up! You can see it fine!”

“For a secretary, you didn’t do a very good job planning this.” Jason points out.

“Oh my god! Let me finish!” Michael snaps.

“I’m just saying. Even Christian seemed like he had a better plan than you.”

“Dude, do you ever shut up? No wonder everyone wants to kill you!”

“It just seems like I’ve already hit the murder peak, you know? This isn’t very impressive. I mean, the first time, with the Midnight Movie Murderer, that was scary. Second time? Getting stabbed sucked pretty bad. Even getting cornered at a party with no way out was freaky. Then you get into the fourth and beyond and it’s like...Eh, y’know? Kind of like movie sequels. Someone always shows up. I think I’m just destined to live.” Jason taps his foot thoughtfully. “You should probably let us out before the Plague Doctor arrives.”

“The Plague Doctor isn’t going to arrive!” Michael insists, voice shrill. “There’s no way they know where we went.”

“Fuck off, Michael! They showed up at Jason’s house, they probably saw you give him that stupid cookie!” Sidney kicks the wall in frustration, and then after a moment’s pause, adds, “And that cookie was dry as hell, by the way!”

“The point of the cookie wasn’t to taste good-”

“Well, thank God, because if it had been, you wouldn’t have done anything about this right!” Sidney kicks the wall again, cursing when she apparently hurts her foot.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks.

“No, I’m not okay! I’m sick of this shit!”

He was asking about her foot, but that’s fair.

“I know. I’m sorry you keep getting dragged into this.”

“You don’t need to apologize! It’s assholes like Michael King and Christian Lyons that should be apologizing!”

“But, I mean, this stuff centralizes around me. I’m a curse or something and you keep getting caught up in it by association.”

Michael interrupts. “Loving this heartfelt bullshit, but the clock is ticking-”

“Shut the fuck up, Schwanzieher!” Sidney responds.

“Excuse me?!” Michael sounds totally indignant. “I- I’ve got you two tied up! Why aren’t you scared of me?”

“That movie guy put a gun right to my head. Christian broke into Jason’s house with a gun and nearly slit his throat. You? You kidnapped me with a cookie! Of course I’m not scared of you!”

“I- But isn’t that scarier? It shows better premeditation, it shows-”

“It shows that you know how to use Google and the oven!” Sidney shouts, cutting Michael off, again.

Michael grumbles and the intercom clicks offline.

Sidney exhales hard, nostrils flaring. Jason’s never seen her this mad. He clears his throat.

“You’re… going to pop a blood vessel there,” he jokes, nervously. Sidney moves like she wants to run a hand through her hair, but she can’t.

“I hate that this keeps happening. Why won’t they just leave you alone? What is he even hoping to accomplish? Fifteen minutes of fame?”

“That’s what all these types seem to be after…” He’s tired, too. At least Michael is incompetent. It’s the first murder attempt where he hasn’t felt like his life is at significant risk. It’s like a practice round, or something. He’s a level 50 that just discovered the tutorial. “But, wait… You aren’t… Like, mad at me?”

“No? I mean, a little bit. I was, right after, just because I was angry in general. And then when you kept talking to the media, I got frustrated… I knew it would get you hurt more, and I just wanted to move on and go back to normal.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve just walked away, but they kept prying and asking all these questions and I just… I guess I felt obligated?”

“You’re not obligated to tell anyone anything, Jason. That’s what I kept trying to tell you,” Sidney sighs, looking less angry and more disappointed now. “I don’t know. When you didn’t even respond to my break up text, I figured we were done for good, so I wasn’t exactly going to press the issue as friends.”

“Shit. Was I supposed to-”

“Jason, for real?”

“No one had ever broken up with me before! You were my first girlfriend,” Jason argues, feeling his cheeks go hot. “How was I supposed to know the - the etiquette of being dumped?”

Sidney snorts. “I would be mad at you, but...It’s kind of hilarious.”

Jason huffs and lets himself slide down a little bit from his sitting position. “I thought you didn’t message me because you hated me.”

“I thought you didn’t message me because you hated me! And then you got those popular friends, so I figured it wouldn’t even be an issue for you! That Morozova kid is infamous for setting up couples.” Sidney rolls her eyes.

“I guess...We both just kind of fucked up, didn’t we?”

“Yes. I mean, mostly you. But yes.” Sidney tugs on her bindings again, groaning when they don’t give. “God, I hope I’m right about whatever bullshit he’s pulling with the clock being nonlethal.”

“I have literally no doubt it is.”

“This is shitty. The first time we talk for real in...what, a month, and it’s because we got drugged and dragged to a knockoff Saw movie?” Sidney, who apparently didn’t learn her lesson the second time, kicks the wall and grunts when it still does nothing.

“I’m sorry I didn’t reply to your breakup text,” Jason says, squirming awkwardly.

“It’s fine. I know you weren’t doing it to spite me or anything.” She sighs, adjusting her glasses. “I’m sorry my new boyfriend tried to kill you.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure he was nice to you. You couldn’t have known.” He tugs at his ropes now, copying Sidney’s movements. “Damn. These things are ti-”

With a slight pull at an odd angle, the rope comes undone.

“Oh,” Sidney says, sounding pleased.

“Wow, he’s really bad at tying knots,” Jason says, staring at his hands, amazed.

“Get over here and help me out of mine.” Sidney yanks again and Jason complies.

“Hey!” The intercom comes back online, voice changer glitching slightly so that Michael’s real voice comes through. “What are you doing? No! Put those back- New rule! One of you can leave alive! Abandon the other to live!”

“You suck at this!” Sidney replies as Jason works on the knots.

“You’ll regret it if you don’t listen to me! I’ve got other traps set up and-” There was the sound of a window breaking, from somewhere else in the building, clearly not too far from Michael. “Shit. What was that?”

“Do you think the Plague Doctor is here?” Sidney asks.

“Probably,” Jason responds, not sounding pleased. “I’d run if I were you, Michael.”

“I’m not gonna run like a baby, I’ll just- I’ll kill them, too! Killing Jason Joon-ho, Sidney Cunningham, and the Plague Doctor? Definitely a good beginning to my killer career.” The intercom goes off again, before they can try to talk him out of it.

Jason gets the ropes the rest of the way off and Sidney shakes her hands to work out the stiffness, immediately starting to pace.

“Well, I’m not voting for him, that’s for sure,” Jason jokes. Sidney lets out a snort of laughter. Jason doesn’t think he’ll live to see election day, at this rate, but he’d rather not think about it.

“Let’s find a way out of here,” Sidney says, actually starting to look around. The room has no windows, and is pretty stuffed with random trash. Jason tries the door, but it’s firmly locked. How did Michael even find this place? Probably through his rich dad. Being a serial killer is probably a lot easier if you’re rich.

“I wonder if that clock’s right,” Jason sighs, looking at it. It’s two in the morning, or in the afternoon the next day, if it’s accurate.

“You worried about making curfew?” Sidney asks. “I thought you’d become a party boy?”

“What do you mean?”

“I heard you went to Morozova’s party.”

“Oh, did you?”

“Well, everyone was talking about the party in general, because of Steve.” She sounds apologetic about having to mention that. Then she grunts with effort as she pushes a big collection of boxes away from the wall. Jason helps. There’s a grate behind them. “Jackpot. Anyways, Rose and Riley were freaking out about the party or a week.”

“Oh! You’re friends with Rose and Riley?” Jason asks, as he starts trying to work on pulling the vent out.

“You’re not the only one who’s survivor status gave you cool cred.” She states, prying. “Also, I heard you made out with Dmitri.”

Jason pauses, face heating again.

“...So how did you start hanging out with Rose and Riley?”

“I met Riley on track team. She started chatting with me when I got out of the hospital. Her and Rose are kind of a package deal.” She grunts and almost falls as the vent comes off, leaving an open square in the wall. She motions Jason in first. “So about that kiss.”

“It was just- we were just playing spin the bottle. Dmitri’s over the top in everything he does, so naturally-”

“He liiikes you,” Sidney sing-songs as she climbs into the vent behind him.

“What?” Jason asks, nervously. “Sidney, he’s dating Rose! Your friend, Rose. He’s straight.”

“Just because he’s dating a girl doesn’t mean he’s straight.”

“I- I guess? He’s still only dating her. And I’m straight! And besides, no one as amazing and talented as him would even consider stooping to my level.” He pauses to determine which way to go.

“Oh my god,” Sidney says.

“What?”

“You like him!” Sidney says, giddy.

“What? No I don’t! Didn’t you just hear me?”

“Dmitri and Jason sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-”

“Shh! You’re going to get us caught!” He wishes he could reach back to swat at her gently. Sidney laughs.

“Okay, but seriously. People have their doubts about the Rose thing anyways.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve really never heard anyone talk about Dmitri and his jock friend?”

“Regan?”

“Yeah, him! The rumor goes that he and Dmitri are dating, and Rose and Riley are dating.”

“What are you talking about?” He says, sounding disbelieving.

“Oh, come on. Dmitri is constantly hanging off of him, right? Plus, I have a friend who swears she saw Rose and Riley kissing behind the field house.”

“Okay, this is just ridiculous. I’ve talked to Rose and Riley, and hung out with all four of them, and they’re definitely very exclusively into their straight partners. Besides, Dmitri is touchy in general. He hangs off of everyone.”

“I’ve never seen him feel up Riley’s biceps,” she points out.

“That’s because she’s his best bro’s girlfriend, that’d be weird!”

“Does Morozova seem like the kind of guy who would care what’s weird?” Sidney inquires. Jason is about to argue, when he remembers the Cannibal conversation. She might have a point. “Point is, Dmitri’s at least bi.”

“Whatever. No matter what, he was just messing with me. It’s what he does.” He tries to kick out a grate at the end of the vent and winces. There’s an awkward moment of shuffling as Sidney has to squeeze around him to knock it out. She peeks out to check for traps, then climbs out, helping Jason to follow.

“Just think about it.” She peers around the hallway. “Did he say anything to you after he kissed you?”

Jason remembers what Dmitri said all too clearly and his face quickly turns bright red.

“Oh, man. What did he say?”

The heavens are semi-merciful, because they hear a couple snaps, a crash, and Michael scream in quick succession.

Naturally, they immediately move towards the noise. They look around the corner to see the Plague Doctor standing there, staring at their unbloodied knife. Apparently, they hadn’t even had to use it.

Michael is caught in what is presumably one of his own traps, and the scene is less than pretty. Hooks dug into skin, pulling in multiple directions. Jason wretches and turns away.

“Hey…” Sidney says, drawing the Plague Doctor’s attention.

They turn around, and then freeze, then tilt their head. There’s a moment of quiet. Jason notes, again, that they look shorter this time - the Plague Doctor in his kitchen had been at least an inch or two taller than him, but this one is 5’6” at best.

“You two got out,” they say, sounding almost surprised. “Impressive.”

There’s another beat of silence, as if they’re struggling to make conversation. They glance over their shoulder, back at Michael.

“At least one of his traps worked, huh?” They say.

“It really took you this long to trap this guy?” Sidney asks.

“We were stuck for pretty long.” Jason agrees.

“I’m not omniscient!” They say, sounding genuinely offended. At least, as much as someone can, with a distorted voice.

“What if we were in trouble?”

“I was going to find you!” They cross their arms, shifting their grip on their knife. Then they turn around. “Stay back. I’ve got to get his phone. Unless it got destroyed. He looks pretty fucked up, doesn’t he?”

They reach to search his pockets, and Michael suddenly rasps. He’s not dead. Severely hurt, but not dead.

“Oh, shit.” The Plague Doctor says.

“Oh my god,” Sidney agrees. “Should we- I mean, should we try to get him off of-”

“No,” they answer, without pause. For a second, Jason’s seized by the fear that they’re going to do what the other one did to Christian- snuff him out. “We might hurt him worse.” They rummage through his pockets, carefully, pulling out his cellphone.

When the operator picks up, they say, “Michael King nabbed Joon-ho and Cunningham. They’re fine, but he’s on the ropes. No pun intended. You’ll see what I mean when you get here. Anyways, you’d better hurry.” They hang up. ...And put the phone back in Michael’s pocket.

That seems to be the end of that.

“Where’s your partner?” Jason tries, out of the blue. The Plague Doctor stiffens for a second, and then continues without replying.

“So now that we’re totally in the clear,” Sidney says, to Jason, “why don’t we continue our conversation?”

“Can we not do this? In general, but especially not ten feet from a corpse,” Jason groans. “Or right near a serial killer.”

“Hey,” the Plague Doctor says. “I’m not just a serial killer. I’m just ridding the world of an evil infestation, I’m-”

“Can it, birdbrain,” Jason huffs. They scoff.

“Guess I won’t help you guys find your way out, then.”

“Fine by me,” Jason replies.

“Jason, come on,” Sidney replies, patting his back. “He doesn’t mean it,” she says to the Plague Doctor.

“Yes I do!”

“They’ve saved your life tons of times.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like them.”

“Wow,” the Plague Doctor says, placing their hand over their heart like they’re wounded. They creep around Michael’s trap, though, and motion for Jason and Sidney to follow. “You know, I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You’re a murderer,” Jason insists.

“That’s such a gross oversimplification! I’m not running around killing random people for fun. I’m not targeting anyone innocent. You just saw me leave that kid alone! You can’t just walk through life with black-and-white morals.” They think for a second, then wave their knife around a little as they talk. “Well, you can, but it’s not useful or logical. Everyone knows there’s exceptions. So I kill a few guys? I stop each of them from killing dozens more. Sounds like a fair tradeoff to me.” They wave the knife a little more, this time in the direction of Jason and Sidney. “And need I remind you that if I hadn’t intervened, you and your sweetheart would’ve died the first time?”

“We’re not dating anymore,” Sidney says.

“Oh, no. Sad. A true tragedy.”

They sound entirely emotionless.

“Jason’s got a new boytoy, but he won’t answer my questions.”

“I- Okay, can we choose to stick to either the bullshit Dmitri rumors or the murder morality question, because the mood whiplash is too strong right now.” Jason looks embarrassed, averting eye contact to stare at the roof as Sidney giggles.

The Plague Doctor holds out an arm and instructs them to move around a particular area to avoid a trap.

“Fine, I choose Dmitri, “ Sidney answers.

“Do we really have to talk about this in front of birdface?” He groans.

“I couldn’t care less about your romantic endeavors if I tried,” the Plague Doctor responds.

“God, okay, he- he asked me if you’d ever kissed me like that before,” Jason admits.

“Oh my god!” Sidney responds.

“It’s- he fucks with me all the time, it doesn’t mean anything!”

“Oh my god!”

“Besides, me? One hundred percent straight, not into guys, so-”

“Go out through here.” They reach the exit and the Plague Doctor holds the door for them. “I’ve got some cleanup to do. The cops will be here soon.”

The birdbrain was right. The police are there within ten minutes. Jason feels as if he’s an expert in dealing with being transported by cops and answering their questions, now. The both of them are processed and released back to their parents in no time.

Jason feels confident enough to ignore reporters this time around. The fact that the media is losing interest in his survival stories helps. Christian was right about too many close calls - not even the murder-hungry media can give a shit anymore.

Until he’s dead.

But he’d rather not think about that.

He returns home and lies down in bed and instead thinks about all the things he can’t trust anymore. His car, the library, going upstairs at parties, his bedroom window, cookies from classmates. Being a murder magnet sucks. At least he’s friends with Sidney again. That weight off his shoulders is enough to make his head feel clearer than it has in a month.

So he goes to school the next day, instead of staying home like he usually wants to. It’s not a fantastic experience, but he sits with Dmitri and Regan at lunch again.

After fifth period, he’s accosted in the hallway by a couple of Michael’s friends.

“We hear you got Michael stuck in the hospital,” one Jason doesn’t recognize says.

“Well, it was more… him walking into his own trap, but…” He sees their body language change from aggressive to even more aggressive and he knows, knows there’s no intrinsic logic to their anger. It’s social hierarchy; they think his life is automatically worth less than Michael’s is and that’s why they’re mad.

“Is there a problem here?” A familiar voice asks from behind him, in a tone implying there better not be, a warm hand being placed on his shoulder. Jason glances over at Regan, who is smiling in one of the more subtly threatening ways a person can smile.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to stick up for this creep, Ahitana?” The kid Jason doesn’t recognize asks.

“Seems like I am,” he answers casually, shifting so he’s just a little in between the jock pack and Jason. “I needed to talk to him anyways.” With that, he grips Jason’s arm and leads him away from the group. Jason sees Regan look over his shoulder at the group and wonders if he made a face at them.

Once they’re out of earshot, Regan asks, “You alright?”

“I guess. I hope those guys don’t become a regular thing.”

“I’ll make sure they won’t,” he assures, real warmth back in his voice.

“I owe you,” Jason sighs.

“Pay me back by coming to hang out at Dmitri’s tonight?”

“Uh… It is, like, another party, or…?”

“Nope. Just good, old-fashioned hangouts. Rose and Riley will be there. Might invite Sidney, too, since Riley says you two are back on good terms and she really wants me to meet her.”

“Alright,” Jason nods. Yeah, he can do a six person gathering.

“See you there.”

The rest of the school day passes in a flash. After dropping his things off at home, he has his mom drive him to Dmitri’s place. It’s not nearly as intimidating as the first time he came. The lack of loud music vibrating the driveway might have something to do with that.

He gives the door a swift knock and bounces on his toes until Rose pulls open the door.

“Hey, Voorhees. C’mon in.” She smiles at him and lets him inside.

He goes into the livingroom and is greeted by Dmitri sitting on the couch, doing bicep curls, in a tank top. Huh. So he does exercise. Jason ends up staring for maybe too long.

“I’m looking cut, huh?” Dmitri asks, pride obvious on his voice. And in the way he’s grinning real wide. “I know. I’m great. A prime specimen.”

Jason blushes a little.

Regan, who’s somehow managed to sneak into the room, with his arm around Riley’s waist, points at Dmitri. “You’re not doing those right. You need to lower your arm slower.”

“Wow,” Dmitri says, sounding hurt. “Making me look bad in front of my lover.”

“Aw, babe, you know I think you’re strong,” Rose says, trying not to laugh.

“I don’t mean you, I mean Jason,” Dmitri replies, winking at Jason. Jason sputters. Rose gasps, scandalized, putting her hand to her forehead.

“I cannot believe you two would betray me in this manner,” she says, with extreme melodrama.

“Leave the acting to the professionals, Rosie,” Dmitri teases as he stands up to put the weight away.

“Hey, don’t bully her,” Riley chides, tugging Regan to make him sit down on the couch.

“So your boyfriend can take the piss out of me, but I can’t give constructive criticism?” Dmitri pouts.

“How is telling her not to act constructive?” Riley asks.

“Because there’s only one spotlight and it’s mine, and the sooner everyone learns this, the better off we’ll be as a society,” Dmitri answers.

The doorbell rings. Rose says, “I’ll get it!” as she wheels around and jogs to the door.

Enter Sidney, as expected. She looks as nervous as Jason bets he did the first time around, but Rose puts an arm around her and helps her work up the nerve to come in.

Dmitri joins Rose in greeting, which is to say he crosses the room in a couple quick hops and grabs her face without explanation, albeit gently.

“Uhm,” she says, despite her slightly squished cheeks.

“Good taste,” he says, still without explanation, looking over at Jason.

Everyone kind of collectively gives him a confused look.

“T...Thanks?” Jason offers, uncertainly.

“I was talking to Sidney,” Dmitri says, as he he releases her, looking her over again. “Yep, good fashion sense and taste in guys. Come on in, sit down, we’re gonna watch a movie.”

Sidney gives Jason a kind of smug look, like her point’s being made. Jason avoids looking at her and sits down on the couch. She, unfortunately, sits next to him.

Then Dmitri sits next to Regan, and Rose next to Dmitri.

“What’re we watching?” Sidney asks.

“A scary movie,” Riley answers.

“I thought you didn’t like scary movies?” Sidney asks.

“Eh, they’re fine. And I’m in the company of many horror dorks. When in Rome, do as the Romans do and all that.”

“I don’t think that’s what that quote means,” Rose laughs as she presses play on some flick titled Secret Admirer. Dmitri gets comfy, leaning against her, and then putting his legs across Regan’s lap.

The movie is subpar, in Jason’s opinion. There’s some part of him tempted to point out every overused trope or every lapse in the intensity caused by bad writing. That part of him is kept at bay by Sidney occasionally elbowing him in the side to point out that Dmitri is clinging to Regan’s arm, then pressed up directly against his side, and then entirely in his lap by the time the movie’s climax began.

Jason tries really hard to ignore it, but he can’t gloss over the fact that Dmitri has both arms around Regan’s neck and keeps squeezing his cheek to Regan’s, eyes pressed shut, whenever it seems like a jump scare is on its way.

Jason thinks it’s kind of funny how jumpy he gets with horror movies, given his cannibal comments and how unfazed he was after Steve’s attack. It’s a little cute. In… like, a kitten way. Jason forces himself to acknowledge that Riley’s clinging to Regan, too. Maybe it’s just the jock draw.

The credits roll and he sees Dmitri, Riley, and Rose visibly relax.

“That movie was a real stinker,” Regan laughs, not even trying to remove Dmitri from his lap.

“I thought it was pretty good,” Rose argues, leaning back.

“At least the soundtrack was good,” Dmitri says, like he didn’t spend half the movie with his face buried into Regan’s neck.

“The plot was overdone and predictable,” Sidney states, vocalizing what Jason was too nervous to.

“Yeah,” Jason agrees, emboldened to ramble, now. “I mean, there was no sense of vagueness and the pacing was really off.” He motions at the screen. “You can’t do the appearance reveal that early in the movie and expect to retain the fear. I mean, most terror comes from the unknown. They spoil the motive right in the title, really, so all the mystery goes out the window in the first half hour. A successful horror has to keep you guessing.”

“Woah, dude. You know a lot about horror movies,” Riley comments, stretching her arms over her head.

“Well, they call me Voorhees for a reason,” Jason laughs, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Yeah, my man Voorhees here is an expert,” Dmitri says as he hops to his feet. He ruffles Jason’s hair as he walks past him towards the kitchen. “Now who here wants to crack open a few brewskis?” He asks, walking backwards towards the door.

“Oh, can we not… drink this time?” Jason asks, looking over the couch.

“Whaaat? How can we call this a party if we don’t get smashed?”

“Parties don’t typically have six people, Dmitri,” Regan reminds.

“Life is a party if you try hard enough!”

“Let’s just chill, Dmitri,” Regan says.

“Pfft. Bunch of buzzkills.” He waves a dismissive hand. “Alright, who wants a soda?” He says the word like he’s disgusted with it.

“Grab me one, babe!” Rose says.

“Got’cha.” Dmitri disappears into the kitchen.

Once he’s gone, Riley moves and takes his spot in Regan’s lap. Rose puts her feet up on the sofa.

“So, Sidney. It’s nice to meet you.” Regan smiles.

“You, too. Riley and Rose talk about you all the time.”

“Ditto.” He puts a hand on Riley’s arm and says, “She showed me a bunch of pictures from your art exhibit.”

“Oh.” Sidney blushes a little. Jason looks smug. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m a big fan!” Riley is grinning. “You’re, like, super talented. Your pieces were all really unique and cool.”

“You know,” Jason starts, trying to keep himself from smiling, “I used to tell her all the time that she should take commissions.” Sidney elbows him, as sneaky as she can.

“I wouldn’t have the time. I’m really busy.”

“Because of all the stuff she’s in. Art club, AP classes, and she works part-time.”

“Woah, Sidney!” Riley says, looking sufficiently impressed. “You do all that and track club?”

“It’s nothing, really…” She steps on Jason’s toes. Jason grits his teeth so he doesn’t make a sound. He’s feeling pretty satisfied anyways.

Dmitri steps back into the room and pauses for a second when he sees Riley on Regan’s lap. “You stole my spot,” he says to Riley as he brings Rose her drink.

“I didn’t see your name on him,” Riley jokes.

“Ohh, shit. Regan, see, you’ve got to get my name tattooed on your thigh now, I’ll do it too, let’s-”

“Dmitri, no.” Regan laughs.

“Buddy, bro, light of my life-”

“I’m not getting a tattoo of your name on my thigh.”

“Not even if it’s like one of those sailor tattoos, with the heart?”

“I’m just not a sailor tattoo kind of guy.”

“You’ve got the beef to pull it off,” Dmitri says.

“You’d look pretty cute with tattoos,” Riley agrees, running her fingers through his hair. Dmitri kind of pulls a face, and then moves a few steps to plop down in Jason’s lap.

Instead of on the floor, or the coffee table, like a normal person.

“Whuha- what are you doing?”

“Everywhere else is occupied. Besides, you look pretty comfy.” He wraps one arm around Jason. Jason blushes and Sidney smirks.

“Let’s watch one more movie,” Rose says.

“I’ll order us a pizza real quick.” Riley pulls out her phone.

Jason has to deal with Dmitri sitting in his lap until the pizza arrives and Rose abandons her spot to retrieve it. Then Dmitri rebels by lying across the couch and putting his head in Riley’s lap, which is in Regan’s lap.

This movie is a romcom of Riley and Rose’s choice. Dmitri almost falls asleep. Regan seems interested, at least.

When it’s over, Riley climbs out from under Dmitri and says, “I’d love to stay longer, but I’ve got cheer in the morning.”  

Her and Riley say their goodbyes and Sidney excuses herself, too.

Jason’s pulling out his phone to call his mom when Regan clears his throat.

“Hey, Voorhees. I could drop you off.”

“Trying to steal him from me?” Dmitri jokes. Regan scoffs.

“Just don’t want you to make the poor guy blow a gasket,” he states.

“Thanks, Regan,” Jason says, trying not to feel nervous. Regan has been nothing but good to him, but it’s a little difficult to feel trusting, regardless.

He follows Regan out to his car, a dark blue Mazda CX-5. A real functional looking vehicle.

The drive home’s not too long. Regan plays some alt-rock quietly the whole way, in lieu of a news broadcast about the Camera Killer.

“Want to meet up for some self defense practice, soon?” Regan asks.

“Oh, uh. Yeah. That’s probably a good idea, huh?”

“Definitely. Both for your killer problem and dealing with the jerks at school.”

Jason frowns.

“They’re not going to give you a hard time for hanging out with me, are they?” Jason asks.

“I don’t really care if they do,” Regan shrugs. “I mean, having a lot of friends is cool, but their friendship’s really superficial and I’ve got thick skin. They can pick at me all they want. I’d rather hang out with someone I actually think is cool than let them get to me.”

“That’s… pretty impressive, to not be able to care like that.”

“It’s not impressive, I’m just lucky.”

“Lucky?” Jason asks.

“There’s a lot of stuff in my life that makes it easier for me to tell people to back off. Being able to throw someone over my shoulder like a sack of flour, for example.”

“Oh. Well, that makes sense.”

“Anyways. I’ll text you to figure out a good time for working out and practicing.”

“I appreciate it.”

Regan pulls up in front of Jason’s house and lets him out. He watches until Jason gets inside safely.

[kyahgamis]

of kissing and cuddling

“Have you ever thought of kissing anyone?”

[belated happy valentine’s day @jacknoahkerr]

It was a quiet evening. An intense game of streetball and a delicious, home cooked dinner at Kagami's apartment later, Daiki feels at peace. Basketball, food, and Kagami: the three factors that filled his day were most of the things, and the person, he liked (unfortunately, there weren’t any boobs or Mai-chan or it would’ve been the perfect day) and he felt quite content as he lounged at Kagami’s couch.

That is, until the other suddenly spoke up and asked him:

“Have you ever thought of kissing anyone?”

Daiki spits out his drink and looks at Kagami. Kagami’s giving him a disapproving look so he wipes the liquid dribbling off his chin with his shirt. “Why suddenly mention kissing, of all things, tonight?”

He pretends to not see Kagami’s judging eyes at his now wet shirt. “I just realized it’s February 13th today. Tomorrow’s valentine's day.”

“So what’s that got to do with it?”

“Well...” Kagami glances away. In Aomine’s lovesick eyes, he looks quite adorable as he did so. “It’s just a thought, but doesn’t it feel nice if you have someone to be lovey dovey with?”

What? Were his ears deceiving him or did he actually hear Kagami say he wants someone to be lovey dovey with? Wait, he’s actually a little touched that Kagami considers him a friend close enough to talk about these kind of things. He should answer properly. It was the least Daiki could do for the person he assumes he’s in a one-sided love with.

“... Didn’t think you’d be a sap, Bakagami. Also, lovey dovey? ”

Kagami’s cheeks flush slightly as his brows knit together in that amusing way it always did whenever he teased Kagami. C- cute! No, wait! Daiki messed up! He wasn’t supposed to make him annoyed!

“I’m not a sap! And shut up, i don’t know what else to call it!” he says heatedly.

Daiki clears his throat awkwardly and says, “Uhh, you were saying stuff about lovey dovey stuff being nice?”

Scowling, he drops himself a cushion away from where Aomine sat on the couch. “Yeah. You gonna make fun of me or something?”

He quickly shakes his head. “Nope. Just didn’t expect you to talk about those stuff.”

“Yeah, well… It’s not something I usually think about.” Kagami’s expression softens and the creases on his forehead disappears. “But I do think about it sometimes.”

Kagami’s opening up to him. He feels a sense of pride at this fact. “Yeah. I get what you mean.” Daiki often thought about Kagami but it rarely was in the context of the two of them doing cutesy stuff. “And I guess valentine’s day kinda makes you think of it more today, huh?”

Sighing, Kagami nods. “Yeah.” he leans on the couch’s backrest and sighs one more time. “I see couples in school doing stuff like flirting, hand holding and spoonfeeding and it’s kind of gross. But sometimes, I can’t help but kinda think I don’t mind doing those gross things.”

But I've been flirting with you for the past few months and it just goes over your head! Daiki's lips twitch downwards slightly. Hand holding and spoon feeding? True, he wants to try holding hands with Kagami. The closest he'd been to holding the other's hand was when he was trying to chop vegetables after losing a bet and his hand was shaky; Kagami guided him hand with his own over Daiki's and that definitely didn't count. Or did it?

Spoonfeeding was something they've done before, or rather, something Kagami's been doing for Aomine whenever he creeps up being the other boy as he cooked to ask for taste tests. That, and Kagami's occasional bouts of stubbornness where he picks up vegetables with his own chopsticks and waves them at Aomine's face until he eats the leafy greens.

Wait, Daiki thinks. Doesn't that mean we're kinda lovey dovey in our own way?

As he pondered on their relationship, Kagami continues voicing out his woes. “Then there's also kissing and hugging. Cuddles and stuff. I want someone to do those stuff with.”

“There's sex too,” Daiki points out. Kagami makes a choking noise and he coughs. He laughs as he watches the redhead try to get his composure back. “What? It’s true.”

The other boy settles down and he mutters, “Well, yeah… Eventually, I guess.” … Shit, Daiki thinks. I volunteer myself, Kagami. Hurry up and notice me.

“But I thought you Americans were big on kissing and stuff?” he asks casually. If Kagami’s anything like his kissing machine of a basketball teacher, Daiki would call foul since he’s yet to be kissed. Then a thought occurs to him. Maybe Kagami had kissed someone already. “Have you kissed Tetsu?”

Kagami makes a disgusted face and Daiki’s suddenly hit by the possibility that Kagami might not like men. “What? No! Why would I even kiss Kuroko? That’s gross!” I should’ve known, he thinks miserably. Kagami doesn't even try to hide the fact he's disgusted; his face contorts into a grimace.

“He kisses Nigou on the snout. On the snout . Kissing him means indirectly kissing the dog. It’s gross on so many levels.”

Oh. Oh. Daiki lets out a relieved sigh and shakes his head. You’re killing me, Kagami. “Dogs aren’t gross, bakagami.”

“They drink out of toilet bowls. And sniff their own poop.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Well, yeah, I guess...” Kagami gives him a triumphant look. Daiki wants to kiss that smug smile away from his face. “Who would you kiss then?” he finds himself asking.

Kagami thinks. “I don’t have anyone in mind, actually.”

“Then why bring up wanting to do lovey dovey stuff if you have no one to do it with?”

“That’s exactly why I mentioned it in the first place, you dumbass. I want someone.”

Pick me then. Kagami continues, shoulders slack and his back slouched against the couch. “I want someone who would be there to invite me out spontaneously to hang out and play basketball. Or eat burgers at Maji.”

I already do that though, Aomine thinks exasperatedly. It's me you're looking for! Just ask me out already! “You want a guy?”

“Guy, girl, it doesn't matter.” Kagami says, expression softening. “I just. Really want someone to like.”

You can like me. Then the feelings would be mutual. And we can hold hands, kiss, and cuddle.

“Let's list down your choices then,” Daiki mutters, ready to shove the idea of him being Kagami's sweetheart into his head. “Tetsu is a no-go because of dog germs.”

He sees Kagami sit up a little straighter as he nods.

“What about Kise?” Kagami's brows furrow slightly and he seemed to consider it. Wait is Kise his type? Damn, I should've started with Midorima!

To Aomine's relief, Kagami shakes his head. “He's too… cheery? It's almost annoying. Plus isn't he a model?”

“What about him being a model?” Daiki asks.

“Well, wouldn't he be chased down by fans? The first time we met he was delayed by some of his fans at Seirin.” The redhead sighs. “He's nice to look at, that Kise. But being with him would be too tiring and I think he has a thing for his captain.”

“I guess you're right.” Bless Kagami for noticing all those details about Kise. “Midorima?”

The other boy snorts. “Are you serious?” Daiki shrugs.

“For all I know, you like stick in the mud kind of people.”

“Haha, very funny.”

“Okay, okay I'm being serious again. Either Murasakibara or Akashi then?”

Kagami makes a face. “Tatsuya has a thing for Murasakibara. And Akashi… Don't you think he's kinda too high up there? And they both kinda scare me.”

He supposes those two were scary in their own way. “Anyone from Seirin? From your class?”

“Not really,” Kagami sighs. “Maybe I should have started thinking about these things earlier.”

Well, Daiki still had yet to mention himself. And he feels a little bit irate at the fact that Kagami seemed to have forgotten him! What the hell, Bakagami!? What am I, chopped liver? I'm right here!! Ready to cuddle and shit!!

“Think harder,” Daiki says, trying to, as patiently as possible, get Kagami to remember that the one and only Aomine Daiki was right in front of him and was the right guy for him. “We've probably forgotten about some people. Someone you've been seeing a lot of lately.”

Kagami's eyes widens in realization. “O- oh!” Daiki watches as the other boy’s cheeks turn pink and looks him in the eye.

Finally. Took you long enough to realize, Bakagami.

“You mean Momoi.”

… What the fuuuuuuuuuuck?!?!

“Well I did think of her, but she has a thing for Kuroko.” Kagami sighs as Daiki stares at him in disbelief. “Maybe if she wasn't into Kuroko I'd pursue her…”

Then Kagami gives him a confused look and says, “Wait, no. Aren't you and Momoi dating?”

What the actual. Fuck. Kagami, you massive idiot.

“We're not dating.” Daiki snaps. “Why does everyone assume that?”

The other boy gives him a scowl. “There's no need to get all snappy. You two look good together and are often together.”

He thinks of Satsuki as a potential girlfriend, even though he thought we were dating but he didn't even consider me. At all. I kinda wanna cry.

Daiki sighs dejectedly. Well, that's fine. As long as Kagami hangs out with him like he usually does, Daiki would be happy. Except that now that Kagami mentioned him wanting to find someone to date so he can kiss and cuddle them, he's less happier and feels a bit more bitter.

He doesn't notice Kagami looking at him thoughtfully. “Y’know, since you've already said that you and Momoi aren't dating, that clears up a lot of things.”

Daiki looks at him, wordlessly prompting him to continue with a slight twitch of his eyebrow.

“I mean, it means Momoi's single.” Kagami says. Duh.

“So what's your point?” Daiki asks,trying not to get snappy.

Kagami hesitates a bit. “She isn't dating you. You're single.”

“So? I know that.”

“Well, I thought you weren't. And you're kind of… my first choice.”

… Daiki's starting to like where this is going. He leans towards Kagami and asks, “First choice for what?”

Kagami glances away and mutters, “... First choice to ask out?”

Too cute. “Then why didn't you?” asks Daiki, inching closer and closer.

Kagami seemed to notice what he was doing but he doesn't budge. “Like I said, I thought you and Momoi were dating. Asking you out would've been so wrong. And I kinda thought you wouldn't be interested.”

“You're thoughtful like that, huh?” He's already shoulder to shoulder with Kagami. A little bit more and Daiki could probably kiss Kagami's cheek. “How about now that you know I'm single?” And very obviously interested?

“Ah…” Kagami flushes slightly and clears his throat. “Well… wanna date?”

Yes, yes, hell yes , Kagami!!! I thought you'd never ask!

“Sure,” he says nonchalantly. “We can cuddle now if you want.”

Daiki knows this was kind of too fast but hey, it was just cuddles. And Kagami looks quite interested. He opens his arms wide and the redhead awkwardly leans into him with his back first, breath hitching slightly as Daiki squeezed him in an embrace.

This is nice. Very nice. Extremely nice. The nicest thing ever. I might cry for real this time.

“Don't be too tense, Bakagami.” he says in a soft voice.

“Can't help it,” Kagami mutters. “This feels so surreal.”

“Does it feel nice too?”

He nods. “And you're being surprisingly nice. I don't think I could get used to this.”

Daiki frowns and pinches Kagami's nose. “What's that supposed to mean?” No take backs now that we're dating!!

Kagami grunts and shakes the fingers off his nose. “Nothing! I'm just surprised that you could be gentle like this.” He rolls so that he's face to face with Daiki and says, “I'm surprised you like me back.”

What's not to like about you?

Daiki’s gaze softens and he strokes the other's cheek. “I like you. And I'll cuddle and hug and kiss you whenever you want so you don't have to wonder about kissing people next valentine's day.”

Scarlet eyes seemingly sparkle at his embarrassingly cheesy words and Daiki inwardly pats himself on the back. “So… wanna try kissing?”

The redhead blinks at him twice. Then he laughs. “I thought you were going to say something sweet again.”

“You can't expect me to spew out cheesy stuff all the time. I'd run out of swoon worthy material quickly,” Daiki grins. He really loves hearing Kagami's laugh. “And you said you wanted to be lovey dovey. Kissing is very lovey dovey.”

“Fair enough.” Kagami sits up and smiles. “Now come here and kiss me.'

So Daiki kisses him.

[clandestineclairvoyant]

The Good, the Bad, and the Very Confused

 So I’ve been working on this on and off, and I’m thinking about rehauling the whole thing. Possibly about turning it into Genji/McCree? It would involve messing with the Overwatch timeline quite a bit though. any suggestions, comments, or critique is welcome!

 It’s  a headcanon/au. Where else could you possibly have found a dirty cowboy in 2076 unless there was time travel involved.

Someone hit McCree in the mouth, and blood flew from his teeth, lip bursting like overripe fruit against his crooked grin.

Not the first time he’d been hit. Far from the last. In fact, he’d been hit quite a bit just in the past hour.

When he turned back to the men- Dave, Dave had hit him, the petty son of a bitch- they looked part frightened, part triumphant. Blood was smeared on one of Dave’s gloved hands, bright and wet red against dusty black leather, and Jesse zeroed in on it with a nasty swoop of anger in his stomach.

A few drops ran down Jesse’s chin, tickly and hot, and he spit them away with a curl of his lip and a snort of his nose.

It was already broken, and blew snot and gore down into the dirt where his hand had caught him from busting any more a his pretty face. His knuckles were swollen from the rowdy drag up to the top of the cliff where they were currently perched, the door between them hanging open like a rusty maw and framing the three offenders in the light of the dying sun.

“Your momma show you how to hit Dave? Or did you learn from you little sister? I bet they beat you like a stupid goddamned drum<, you ugly son of a bitch.”

“You keep talkin’ like that and I’m gonna cut your stupid fool tongue out.” Dave shook the blood off of his glove, and aimed a kick at Jesse which he skittered backwards from, laughing like a jackal with red teeth and a nasal rattle. “Little prick.”

“Chinga tu madre, puto.” Jesse added gleefully, scrambling to his feet, and backing himself into the dark entry they’d thrown him in. He knew which way his bread was buttered, and it was definitely better to bide his time.

They had to come back to kill him eventually.

“Sergio doesn’t want to deal with your shit today McCree. You fucked up again- And this time you cost us money.” Dave sneered, mouth ugly and eyes glittering. There was a hint of enjoyment there, Jesse could see it. Always could. Why he never liked working with him. “You can cool your heels in here until he feels like comin’ and tanning yer hide like you deserve. Ya soft lily-livered fuck.”

“Cost Sergio money. Cost you the chance to get yer mouth on his prick more like-” McCree growled out, baring his teeth and making a rude gesture with his hands.

Dave snarled and lunged forward, but Thompson grabbed his arm and jerked him to a quick stop that spun him, feet skidding in a circle towards now silent Jesse- Who simply sucked his lip and snarled.

Millson, the big ugly lug, just sat and blinked wetly in the hot red sunlight coming in from the cracked open door. The creep never seemed to sweat, no matter how hot the Arizona sun shone down and the thunderheads built up in the distance. Jesse kept a wary eye on him, and the big fleshy fists hanging loose and deceiving by his side.

He’s the one who had knocked Jesse’s block off, outside the train, leaving him dazed in the dirt blinking spots out of his eyes long enough to stomp hard on his knee. There was something methodical about Millson hurting people, and Jesse knew that if it came down to it he’d fight Dave, he’d chew up Thompson and spit the skinny fuck out- but Millson? Millson would choke the life out of him, literally without blinking.

For now he’d cool his heels in the dark prison cell the gang used with chaotic regularity, adding another notch to his collection on the sandstone wall. And maybe when Millson weren’t around, he’d really dig his teeth in.

Deadlock gang didn’t have a literal prison. They had a mine that had fallen in and crushed a bunch of Chinamen back in 1867, and hadn’t been touched by a living soul since. Whether it was fear of ghosts, or the bankers that owned the pit that kept people away from the area, nobody in the nearby town really knew. But it served as a good hideout for the Deadlock gang, and they’d built the gorge into their own fortress over the past year or so they’d taken residence.

One way in and one way out. Why they called it Deadlock.

Millerson, Thompson, and Dave left; the latter swearing a blue streak and slamming the door shut behind him fit to knock dust from the support beams yawning over Jesse’s head.

He gave them a glance, before venturing to limp his way over to the door, one boot dragging in the ground. His knee was swelling up where Millson had stomped it, getting him off of the train and onto the ground where Dave had crushed his arms behind his back. His shoulder twinged, but it was eclipsed by the pain in his leg and he readily ignored it with the practice of someone who’d had to shake off discomfort for a large part of his life.

No noise outside.

Jesse pressed his face to the splintered wood, dry as sunbleached bone and swollen with weather almost too large to fit in the frame. His ears didn’t pick up anything but the jingle of reins and the sharp whistle of Thompson turning his horse.

Someone clicked their tongue, and hooves retreated, the snorting of horses and the creak of leather getting louder before it slowly retreated. No doubt down the same winding and impossible to see pathway they’d dragged his sorry ass up.

The three men were leaving, taking Jesse’s beat down little mare with them. Mariposa.

“Fuck.” He pulled away to take in a deep rattling breath wet with blood, before pressing his face to the wood again, heart beating a little faster with the first hints of fear as the sounds grew more distant, and the yawning chasm of the caved in mine behind him loomed empty and dark.”Pinche.” His fist landed on the door, and he pushed away with more swearing, staggering unsteadily to his feet.

Great. If he was lucky, they’d remember him in here before tomorrow night and throw some food his way. Or water. Christ.

A bang in the distance, a familiar sound in the gorge. Another shortly followed it and Jesse didn’t even acknowledge it with a twitch.

He did however grit his teeth, blood thick and heavy in his throat and face throbbing. His knee felt like it was likely to give any minute, so he spit another glob up out by the slit of sunlight shining on the floor, and limped his way to the sand striped cave wall by the door.

It was dappled with moss and the burn marks of long ago detonations. It made a cool relief to the Arizona heat, and he slowly lowered himself against it with a creaking groan, wincing at the pressure on his knee. His heartbeat pulsed in it, and for a brief moment dots swam in front of his eyes at the change in position.

Thompson got him better than he thought. Damn.

Another bang in the distance.

 Probably killing the passengers. Jesse thought grimly, licking blood off his chin and thumbing the faint hint of beard on his chin thoughtfully.

He hoped they didn’t use his gun to do it. Not after the fuss he’d made about the whole cocked-up thing in the first place, that got him locked in a goddamn hole in the ground.

Other gangs Jesse didn’t have a problem with. He’d put a bullet between their eyes soon as blink; and do it twice as well as anyone else in Deadlock’s bloodthirsty ranks. He had the tally-board and free drinks to prove it.

Sergio called him a miser, when the mean old cuss was feeling kind. McCree never wasted a bullet.

But that train had been full a nothing but families and unsuspecting working folk. Jesse had stepped onto the train, and met the terrified eyes of a woman, wide and wet looking. Pale around the corners of her pink painted mouth, and hands trembling. Dave had laughed, right behind him, saying something that buzzed in Jesse’s ears nonsensically.

He wasn’t sure why this particular train had hit him so hard. Maybe they’d all hit him this hard. Maybe his head had always buzzed like this, when he thought about it, hot and sick on the inside.

She’d been crouching half in and half out of her seat as if unsure of what to do with the sounds of gunfire and the terrified lowing of cattle going in the car behind them. Where to flee to. Her carpet bag had been open and spilled at her feet, a silk scarf strewn with a bottle of perfume, socks.

Jesse could still smell the car. Warm and alive, sweet hay smell and the pungent odor of cattle cooped up in one place for too long without anywhere to relieve themselves; perfume from one of the bottles at her feet cracking open. And soon after that, the smell of blood, sprayed across the inside of the car and across the dust and fly streaked windows, the hot sting of gunpowder whipping against his face, and the ringing in his ears of someone firing too close making him blink. The afterimage of blonde hair flying out in a wild halo, red mist staining the perfumed air with the smell of copper.

The woman had fallen like something broken. Dave had fired at her right by his ear. Snapped him out of it.

But that wasn’t anything to be thinking about. Not when Sergio was going to come up here soon and bury him up to his neck in fire ants. Or strip him and get him real friendly with an old saguaro.

So Jesse waited.

#######################

The light traveled across the floor, until it was cast against the blocked off back of the cave, when Jesse finally heard the sounds of someone coming back. Surprisingly early. He thought the boys would be hammered by now, swimming with the flush of victory and the large kegs they’d rolled from the trains cargo car. Crickets sang out loud enough to be heard even as far from the brush as the door of the mine was, and Jesse scrubbed dried blood off of his face as he moved from by the door to the back, wisely pressing himself small.

If it was Sergio….

The horses stopped, and there was the scuffled sounds of someone getting off. More sounds, heavy grunting and swearing. Something heavy being dragged.

The door crashed open, and even though he was expecting it, Jesse still jumped.

It was some of the newer guys, brought in from Mexico, and Jesse sneered at the shit pieces hanging off their belt. Didn’t even clean ‘em. Said the best way to clean them was to shoot ‘em. It took both of them just to keep ahold of the big fella they were dragging in, who didn’t even seem to be fighting all too hard with blood curtaining down the side of his face to pool in his collar. A spreading bloom of wetness on black. He was dressed oddly, heavy boots that looked strange with metal bits on ‘em that shone in the fading sunlight. His shirt rode up his neck, heavy knit and black with a hat that looked the same pulled low over a tight, short haircut.

The face was hard to make out behind the blood, but it had all the expression of an executioner's axe. Wide cruel mouth, a neat goatee and a broken nose made him look like a brawler. Jesse couldn’t see the man’s hands behind the thick looking gloves tied in front of him, but Jesse was willing to bet the knuckles were scarred and knobbly.

They threw him down, dust clouding up, and Jesse stayed in his corner, muscles tense as the man got unnaturally fast to his feet, swearing in spanish. But not fast enough- They shut the door behind them, slamming it, and Jesse heard the jingle of chains being threaded into place over the door. God damn.

The man slammed himself against the door with a snarl, fist slamming and boot coming up to kick, and to Jesse’s surprise the heavy wood creaked warningly. He slammed against it again, and Jesse gave a hesitant, “Hey, cuidado amigo, that door ain’t gonna break-”

There was a heavy crack of wood protesting, and then the savage skch-snk of a shotgun being cocked on the other side of the wood. The man stopped, breathing heavily with a rumble deep in his barrel chest and right eye shut against the blood still sheeting down his face.

“Keep it up. You ain’t gonna like what you find on the other side of this door fella. Best sit tight until we can rouse yer friends up outta where they’re holed up.” A pause, and Jesse could just imagine Dave lowering his fat ass onto a crate, shotgun on one knee and smoke-grimey face creased with sweat and grin marks. “Yer probably their leader anyway, or are we wrong?”

The man took a step back, and for a moment Jesse was worried he was going to go for it anyway- even more terrifying, hoped he would. The anger in the stranger's face was enough to repel any bullets, or so Jesse was inclined to think. It sure repelled him, when the one open eye turned in the darkening mine shaft and looked at him.

“Who’s the kid?”

“Dinner, if ya’ll get desperate enough in there.” Dave laughed his wet little giggle, and Jesse snarled best he could back at the man, doing his best to look as if he’d go down like barbed wire if the guy tried anything.

Jesse was dangerous, but this man was something else. Along with knowing how to toe the line Jesse knew how to spot a killer, and it sent him bristling with nerves. A back to the wall made him feel cornered, but it was better than the alternative.

The stranger looked at him coldly, and looked at the door, before giving a disgusted little noise and crossing the room like a stalking panther. Gravel crunched under his boots, and Jesse shrank back along the wall to be as far from him as possible, mouth open to breathe shallowly around his busted nose.

The stranger was all muscle, with his strange woolen looking clothes straining against thick arms and thighs. Built like a fighter, not like those lazy sons a bitches who’d gotten the jump on Jesse.  The man ran his bound hands along the fallen stone and rubble that blocked the tunnel, making a tch noise when it found nothing but splinters from fallen timber and rocks. He kept investigating, the whole length of their prison, like a predator, and Jesse stayed silent long as he could, wary as a scalded cat.

 But he couldn’t keep his tongue long. Not under the circumstances.

“You got a name mister?”

He kept his voice down, and startled himself with how dusty and hoarse it sounded from hours without water; nothing but blood running down his throat. It cracked, and the stranger turned towards him with a lazy shift of attention. It was hard to make out his face in the dark; And it was only going to get darker. Jesse shuddered at the thought.

“The fuck do you care?”

“I don’t.” Damn salty fool. “Go hang yerself, you cranky old bastard.” Jesse retorted sullenly, unable to keep the whipcrack of a reply to himself.

The man stiffened dangerously, and Jesse backpedaled, standing up with a dizzying swell of pain from his knee and bracing himself on his good leg. If he was lucky, he’d be able to get a few pops in before the guy simply crushed his throat. Or beat the tar outta him.

But then, the fella tilted his head consideringly. Like a dog who’d spotted something running through the brush.

“You were on the train.” The stranger said, slowly. There was hardly a hint of accent, but Jesse recognized the faintest burr of spanish, the city slick vowels and consonants all sharp as a crisp five dollar bill. An odd combination, when most mexicans came from down south and picked up the country twang as they went.

“Yeah?” Jesse kept the wall to his back, knee throbbing worse than it had before now that he was standing. If he wasn’t going to be murdered, he made a note to cut the leg of his trousers open to let it get some room to swell. It was messed up good.

“You let that woman get murdered.” The man spit off to the side, rubbing a gloved hand across his face. “More than that woman, as I recall.” Jesse’s heart pumped a beat of ice, and it sank into his stomach like a rock. It was a punch to the gut, and Jesse flinched worse than if someone’d hit him.

 But it wasn’t like he had an excuse.

He said nothing instead, glowering, and the man gave him one last considering look, before turning towards the entrance, crouching so the back wall of rubble was against his back, and settled. His hands worked idly at his bonds while he stared, gaze boring holes into the door.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“None of your fucking business.” Jesse had a rock in his line of sight, hefty but small enough to get in his hand in a hurry. If he had to.

The stranger nodded without looking, like that was what he’d expected.

“Well Fucking Business, my name’s Gabriel Reyes; and if you’re smart, you’re going to help me.”

“I don’t-” Jesse started hotly.

“Callar.” The man’s face didn’t change with anger. It was his default, a low growling authority that had Jesse unconsciously shrinking back, scowling. “My team’s coming soon, and since you seem to have a problem shooting innocent people, I’m going to give you a chance to not get your guts sliced out from chin to dick by my associate.” Jesse’s mouth snapped shut impressively fast. “Comprende? You help us find what we’re here looking for, and I’ll make sure you get out of here alive.” The look Jesse got made it clear he weren’t shit on Gabriel Reyes boot. “We clear?”

Jesse didn’t need long to consider his options. They weren’t exactly varied. He’d rather take the devil he don’t know than the one he did- When that devil was Sergio, he’d be lucky to make it out of this thing dead. Forget alive and whole.

Sergio was going to cut his eye out at the very least. He’d threatened to do it often enough in a whimsical sort of way when Jesse was bugging him, when McCree toed the line between being one of the rowdy gang and being impertinent. It wasn’t an idle threat either- The desert in Deadlock Gorge was littered with the remains of people who’d crossed Sergio. Most times in separate, and varied holes of many shapes and sizes.

Jesse knows. He’d put a few of them there himself.

 He spit into the dirt. ”Entiendo. I get it.”

Reyes quieted, staring at the door, and Jesse sat down himself, bad leg stretched out in front once again with a wince. His trousers were tight and his knee felt hot. It was his last pair, too.

He had his hat, his vest and shirt. Some enterprising bastard had taken his coat in the scuffle, cheap and ill made as it was. The desert air was cold without it, and he shivered in the dirt, glaring balefully across the stone with his arms curled tight to his body for warmth.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been thrown in here. Jesse had been misbehaving since he was born, and joining with a bunch of other miscreants hadn’t changed any of that. First time he got thrown in here it’d been his first week of work, fifteen years old and still not sure where the boundaries were between obedience and rebellion. It’d been a couple years since then, and him and the hole hadn’t been reacquainted in quite  awhile. A few weeks at the least.

But Jesse knew how to be still and be quiet.

So he waited.

[laseroy89]

I Hate My Smelly Neighbour

It’s starting again.

I squeezed my headphones onto my ears, trying to drown out the commotion. But no matter what I did, the noises pierced through, as clear as day.

This happened every night. Always started around 8pm, according to my roommates. Of course, I’ve changed my schedule to avoid being home around this time, but the library closed early today, so here I am.

Despite living here here for four fucking months, I couldn’t figure out how the hell my neighbour was making these sounds.

It sounded like….gargling. Like someone filled his mouth with water and swished it around a million times. Then, he faced up and exhaled slowly through the water, taking care not to spill any water and to make as much noise as possible. Of course, that’s not possible - for gargling to be this loud, the person would have to be some dinosaur-sized giant.

And I’m sure it wasn’t just water through the pipes either. That would just be a constant rattling noise that faded into silence after at most five minutes. These noises were unpredictable, varying in volume and intensity - they sounded alive.

It was stopping…..no, it wasn’t, it got louder - my table was vibrating from the damn cacophony of gurgles and squelches. I turned to the wall behind me, which separated my room from my neighbour, and raised my middle finger. Fuck you, Rancid Reaper. Fuck you and your stupid, irritating, disgusting sounds. You annoy the fuck out of me, you miserable, imbecile piece of shit.

As you can see, I hate my neighbour a lot. Let me explain why I’m so furious at him.

Five months ago, I chanced upon this place that’s really close to school, and is really, really cheap. Doesn't matter that the place looked really crappy - the corridors were filthy with a musty smell, the walls were pretty thin and the doors couldn’t close properly. It was dirt cheap because the current tenants were desperate for a new flatmate to share the cost, so they lowered my share a little. The proximity to school meant that I could save time, and spend less on transport. At that time, that was what mattered to my naive mind.

After finalising everything and moving in one month later, I found out why the previous occupant of my room left the place in a hurry.

First reason is the lifts. There are only two elevators serving fifteen storeys, and each storey has ten units - this is just plain insufficient. The wait can take up to twenty minutes in the morning, when most people are heading to either work or school, and in the evening, when everyone is heading back home. My predecessor must have been caught in one too many jams.

Second reason is my roommates, and some of my neighbours. Jake leaves a mess everywhere he goes - unwashed dishes in the sink, stains on the coffee table, weights all over the living room floor - worse than a cat, really. Han stays in his closed room 99% of the time he’s home, studying and doing who knows what else - he’s quite distant as a result. The people upstairs break out some tapdance-like routine at random intervals in the night. And the neighbours to the right fuck like rabbits, and scream really loud when they do it.

But….it’s cool, I can cope with all these. I can force myself to wake up earlier to avoid the morning peak hour, and I’ll just return home in the late afternoon or much later at night. As for the people aspect, Jake eventually cleans up after himself, even though it’s more out of necessity (so that he can move around the apartment), and it’d be probably around four hours after the initial mess appeared. Han does acknowledge me with a smile….from time to time. The Riverdancers upstairs don’t thump the floor every single day, and the Rabbits’ cries of joy normally don’t last more than five minutes.

The only thing I can’t stand, is the Rancid Reaper to our left.

Most of his habits - hell, just the sight of him never fails to rile me up. One of them is the constant disgusting gargling noises emitted from his house periodically - my table is currently shaking from the sounds as I type this, and it’s already the third time tonight. But I’ll come to that later; I’m gonna start with his nickname.

Remember what I said earlier about forcing myself to wake up earlier? It just so happens that Reaper’s routine coincides with mine - he’ll emerge from his house at the same time. Sometimes a little later, when I’m already in the lift lobby. He’ll walk to the landing, and stand a few metres to my right.

That’s when the smell will hit me.

It’s hard to describe the overpowering odour -  it’s like someone put wet dog fur, rotten eggs and two-week-old vomit into the blender, drench some stale dirty laundry with the mixture, then wrap the revolting piece of cloth around your nose. Maybe….maybe it's the stained wifebeater and crumpled black shorts he’s always clad in - does he ever wash them? Does he even bathe? I’ve never seen him wear any other clothes; I've never seen him without greasy hair or a sweaty brow.

I can’t avoid getting into the lift with him. I can’t wake up earlier - sleep is precious, yo. I also can’t wait for him to leave first, because I risk getting into the morning jam, and I’ll be late for my classes. Therefore, I have to hold my breath for the entire ride down the block, to keep myself from puking right there and then.

I remember this one night when I forgot to pack my stuff, causing me to rush around the next morning. As a result, I was a little out of breath in the lift with the Reaper. When I finally let go and inhaled, the stench had become unbearable in that confined space, causing me to double over and retch repeatedly. I was too nauseous to walk straight by the time I reached the ground floor. I’m sure I almost died that day - that’s how he got his name.

I tried to mention the smell to him politely a few times, but….I don't think he understood a single word that came out of my mouth. He would just respond with a blank stare aimed at the centre of my face, right at the top part of my nose bridge and just between the eyes - actively avoiding any eye contact. There would be this awkward silence, before I back away and resume holding my breath. It’s like he knows, but he just doesn’t give a shit about it.

The reason why he gets up so early is so that he can shop at the grocery store nearby, which is coincidentally where Han works. Han hasn’t seen what the Rancid Reaper buys - he works the night shift - but he has overheard the conversations between his gossiping coworkers, who love to talk about the Reaper (his stench probably got to them as well). Apparently, he often purchases huge bags of baby diapers, tissue papers, baby milk powder - essentially stuff for babies.

This is really weird, because he definitely doesn’t have a child at home. He doesn’t even seem capable of caring for his own personal appearance: his grey hair is always unkempt; his skin dotted with liver spots and criss-crossed with wrinkles; his lips are perpetually half-open, revealing his worn, yellowish-brown teeth. He looks in no shape to take care of a child. Besides, we would have heard some telltale noises - crying, laughing, playing….

But no. We get these stupid gargling noises, instead. I suffer the brunt of it, since my room is right next to his unit.

It wasn’t this bad when I first moved in. Of course, I was quite shocked the first time I heard the noise - who wouldn’t be shocked when a ear-splitting, disgustingly moist bubbling sound rocks the entire room? But I got used to it, because….well, it only happened twice every night, at 8pm and 10pm.

Then it increased in frequency, to four-five times every night. That was when I decided to take action, and face my neighbour. As mentioned before, his reaction was a typical emotionless stare in my direction, and I couldn’t get anything else from him.

The gargles continued growing in frequency, to the point when it disrupted my studies and sleep. I often banged the wall in frustration, trying to make him shut up. That only made the noise even louder though. I feel like just storming to his house, bashing the door down and club him with a crowbar or hammer or some hard object, but I can’t; I’m not a confrontational person.

So the only thing left to do was to adapt.

I shifted my bed to the other side of the room, and made some modifications to it. It’s essentially a blanket fort, ventilated with plastic tubes and small fans. It muffles the sounds and softens the vibrations, and thanks to the fans, it’s not so stuffy inside. I’m not an engineering major, so I’m kinda proud of myself for building this to overcome the noise problem(cue the “Improvise, Adapt, Overcome” meme). I’ve also decided to study in school instead, too. The environment is much more conducive there, and I return home only to do chores not related to academics.

This new schedule started around a month ago, and I’m happy to say that I feel more productive during my study sessions. However, since I’m returning home at a later time, I’ve started noticing some suspicious activity outside the Rancid Reaper’s home.

Every three to four days, a woman would be loitering at our level at around 9pm. Sometimes she would be leaning on the wall outside the Reaper’s house, other times she would be at the far corner of the lift lobby, using her phone. Despite seeing her so many times, I don’t remember any distinct facial features - in fact, I don’t think I’ve actually seen her face clearly, as her long, flowing hair obscured her face. She would turn to face me if she heard me walking, but would immediately glance away when I look at her.

The most common way to recognise her is her petite figure - she only came up to my shoulder, and I’m not a tall person either. Her attire of choice is normally a black or navy blue figure-hugging dress, together with black high heels and a black smartphone. Even though I’ve never seen her face, I could say she’s kinda attractive, an opinion shared by Jake, who keeps ogling her through our window. Dammit Jake - yeah, it’s a tinted window, but you do know that she can see you when the inside of our flat is brighter than the corridor outside, right?

Her behaviour is….odd, to say the least. I think she spends most of the time outside the Reaper’s flat - she occasionally stands in the lobby so as to avoid me (and Jake, of course). While she’d be using her phone for most of the time, she would periodically stroke the wall or the Reaper’s door tenderly - longingly, like she misses it. This is pretty strange, because I’ve never ever seen any relative or friend of the rancid old man. In fact, I have never seen anyone else enter or leave the flat - as far as I know, the Reaper lives alone. Which makes perfect sense, because who in their right mind would put up with that smell?

There was this one time when I was stuck waiting for the lift with the sex-crazed Rabbits, and we made up some small talk. Yup, as you guess it, the topic of our conversation was our dear friend the Rancid Reaper.

Apparently, the old man wasn’t always like that - in fact, they think that he’s actually around 40 years old, even though he has the appearance of a poorly-groomed 60-year-old. He used to be pretty normal - happily married with a beautiful wife; dressed in proper, clean clothes; quite friendly, would greet most people with a smile, and make some small talk in the lift. Then around a few months ago, I guess….something happened. Suddenly the wife was nowhere to be seen, and the man became increasingly withdrawn, and….he started his transformation into the Rancid Reaper.

I think the Rabbits may have been drunk when they told me this outlandish origin story. But is this mystery woman the wife? I don’t know, but she seems like she knows the Reaper. Oh, and she definitely knows what causes the gargling noises - because whenever she hears a gargle, she would become emotional. She would squat down, put her hands on the door, and start sobbing loudly. When this happens, I stop and hesitate for a moment, wondering what I should do: should I ask her if she’s alright and see if she needs help, or should I continue taking off my shoes and head inside, ignoring her?

I always pick the second option. I don’t know her well, and she seems pretty guarded against strangers, so I don’t want to bother her.

I know she’s outside right now. I heard the familiar clicking sounds of her high heels against the tiled floor outside about an hour ago. Jake heard it too, and I caught him sashaying to the window to creep at her. Again. Damn the horny bastard.

Only thing is….I think something’s wrong next door. It’s been silent for more than half an hour. I’m not saying that’s not a good thing, but the gargles typically come at a rate of every twenty minutes. Also, while they fluctuate in volume, they fade into silence gradually - not like the last gargle, which cut off abruptly.

There’s a knock on my door. It’s Jake.

“I think there’s something happening at the Rancid’s. We need to check it out.”

“There’s no way I’m sticking my nose into his business. I have had enough of his smell already.”

“I can hear shouting and screaming over there, man. Something’s happening and we need to know what’s going on.”

“Hey buddy, take a good look at my face. Do I look like I give a fuck? I can’t hear anything from where I’m sitting, and that’s a good thing - so I’m gonna sit down here and enjoy this silence, and there’s nothing you can do to make me budge from my bed.”

“Hey bro, this is an emergency, man. The hot chick went into the Reaper’s house. Yeah, she stepped in about half an hour ago - then all the shouting started. Think I heard stuff being thrown around as well. We really need to check it out - man, I don’t want the hot chick to get hurt.”

I didn’t move, choosing to stare resolutely at Jake instead.

“Alright, man. You do you. I’m gonna check it out, and you know, if anything happens, if I don’t come back….call the police, will ya?” He left the room.

I think it’s better if he doesn’t come back. The house will be neater.

But….I don’t want to pay a higher share of the rent.

I stepped out after him.

(I'll update this two days later)

[stilesderekscottissacandme]

Omega

Okay, just going to say that I do not own Teen Wolf and because I don't want to add one of these on every chapter this will be the only one. Continue.

I had tears in my eyes and I couldn't stop thinking about how different everything was going to be from now on. I'm human now. I'm weak. I'm in pain. I haven't been able to stop crying.

"Mom..Can I just go home? It's almost my mom's birthday and I don't want to spend it in the hospital.." I sighed. My mom's birthday was in 2 days. I had started calling Mel mom the day that Peter took her on a "date." It just seemed right, ya know? But I always celabrated my real mom's birthday...

"Well, if you promise to stay in bed..I guess you could go ho-" Mel was cut off by an ear piercing scream that bellowed through the hospital. I looked over to where Stiles was sitting and his eyes bulged.

"Lydia." We both said. Mom had already left the room and was running to Lydia's room. Stiles pulled me to my feet and I ripped the I.V. out of my arm for like the 20th time this weekend. What? I hate needles.

When we got into the room I ran into the bathroom, pushing past the doctors and nurses. The shower was still running, but there was no one here.

"Lydia? Lydia!" I yelled as I frantically spun in circles searching for the girl I had once hated. Then my eyes fell on the open window.

"Stiles, I'm calling your dad. Alex, I want you to get your stuff ready to go." Mel said after we searched the entire hospital.

"Are you ready Alex?" Stiles asked. I nodded my head and we went into the hallway that Mom was talking to Sheriff Stilinski in.

"Alright, let's get an APB out on a 16-year-old redhead. Any other descriptors?" Sheriff asked. Before I could stop him Stiles ran in between a doctor and a deputy.

"She's 5 foot 3 green eyes, fair skin. And her hair is actually strawberry blonde." Stiles said. I felt a hint of jealousy flair up in my stomach, but ignored it.

"Is that right?" Sheriff asked.

"Yeah." Stiles said.

"Uh..come here." Sheriff said while grabbing the back of Stiles' neck and pulling him off to the side. I couldn't hear what was being said which hurt and honestly pissed me off. Stiles walked back over to me and told me to run to Lydia's room and get the hospital gown beside the bathtub. I did as I was told and we went outside to find Scott in the passenger side of the jeep.

"We're gonna find her, so don't worry." I said to Stiles as I climbed into the back seat and handed the gown to Scott.

"This is the one she was just wearing?" Scott asked, I nodded and looked over to Stiles. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt her. Not again." Scott added. I looked away. It was my fault she was hurt, not his.

"Alright just shove the thing in your face and let's find her." Stiles said as he started the jeep. Standing in front of the jeep was Allison. I mean, it made sense Lydia was her best friend and I can understand that she would be worried when Lydia comes up missing. She walked over to Scott's window.

"What are you doing here? Someone's gonna see us." Scott said. Allison just shrugged. Stiles had told me that Allison's dad had forbidden them from seeing each other but they didn't care.

"I don't care- she's my best friend, and we need to find her before they do." Allison said. She had this adorable beanie on and I made a note to ask where she got it later.

"I can find her before the cops can." Scott said.

"How about before my father can?" Allison asked.

"He knows?" I asked in fear.

"Yeah, I just saw him and three other guys leave my house in 2 SUV's." Allison said. Great.

"Search party.." I said more to myself.

"It's more like a hunting party." Allison said causing me to realize I had said it louder than I meant to.

"Get in." Scott said as he opened his door. I scooted over and looked up to see Stiles giving me and apologetic smile.

"Alright, but if she's turning, would they actually kill her?" I asked, turning to look at Allison. She had apologized yesterday while I was still on bed rest. I accepted but it was hard to look her in the eyes.

"I don't know. they wont tell me anything. Okay, all they say is "We'll talk after the others get here." Allison said.

"What others?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know they wont tell me that yet." Allison said.

"Okay, your family's got some serious communication issues to work on." I said.

"Scott are we going the right way?" Stiles asked. Scott had his head out the window and was sniffing the air for Lydia's sent.

"Take the next right!" He yelled into the window. We followed Scott's instructions until we were parked in front of the Hale house. The memories of what happened the other night hit me like a ton of bricks. My breath hitched in my throat, tears filling my dry eyes. I blinked them away.

"She came here?" I asked trying to get my mind off of the events that had taken place only 2 days ago. "You sure?" I added after Scott nodded.

"Yeah, this is where the scent leads." Scott said.

"Alright, but has Lydia ever been here?" Stiles asked. He had is arm around my waist.

"Not with me. Maybe she came her on instinct, like she was looking for Derek." Allison said.

"You mean- looking for an alpha?" I asked.

"Wolves need a pack, right?" Allison asked. Well more stated than asked.

"Not all of them." Scott and I said at the same time.

"But would she have been drawn to an alpha? Is it an instinct to be part of a pack?" Allison asked after a few seconds.

"Yeah, we're...They're stronger in packs." I said. I had to correct myself once I realized I was human..Stiles grip around my waist tightened.

"Like strength in numbers." Allison muttered. Tears stinged my eyes but I held them back.

"No like- like literally stronger, faster, better in every way." Scott said.

"That the same for an alpha?" Allison asked.

"That'll make Derek stronger.." I confirmed the look of fear in her eyes was sad. Stiles walked away taking the warmth and comfort with him.

"Whoa hey look at this! You see this? I think its a tripwire." Stiles said before pulling it down. I heard a weird noise and looked over to Scott.

"Stiles.." I said.

"Yes babe?" He turned to look at me and I just pointed. "Oh.." He said as we looked at our friend dangling in the air by his right leg.

"Next time you see a trip wire- don't trip it." I said. Scott let a low growl escape his lips and glared at Stiles.

"Yeah, noted." Stiles said as we tried to get Scott down.

"Wait wait wait wait wait. Someone's coming. Hide. Go." Scott said. We all took off and Stiles pulled me into himself as we hid behind a tree.

A few minutes after straining my ears and failing miserably Allison's father and hunting buddies left.

"You okay?" Allison asked as we walked back over to Scott who was still dangling in the tree. Scott nodded.

"It's just another life threatening conversation with your dad." Scott sighed. Old me would have giggled. But who I was then, couldn't even bring herself to smile. I walked over to where the wire attached to one of the tree's and begun messing around with it.

"Stiles, help me with this." I said, Stiles walked over to me followed by Allison. We all turned around when we heard a thud noise. Scott was standing right side up with his index finger claw out.

"Thanks. But I think I got it." He laughed.

"Yeah." Stiles said and I swear he sounded slightly jealous.

"Uhhh." Allison said as Scott took off towards the house.

*TIME SKIP*

"She ate the liver?" I asked in disgust. Stiles had just told us about what Issac Lahey had told his father about the grave desiccation last night.

"No, I didn't say she ate it. I just said it was missing. And you know what even if she did  the liver is the most nutritious part of the body." Stiles laughed as he linked his fingers with mine. I forced a small smile.

"I never ate anyone's liver." Scott said causing us to look at him.

"Yeah, right, 'cause when it comes to werewolves your a real model of control." Stiles sassed.

"Actually, wait - hold on. You're the test case for this, so we should be going over what happened to you." I said causing both sets of eyes to fall on me.

"What do you mean?" Scott and Stiles asked in confusion.

"I mean like what was going through your mind when you were turning, you know? What were you drawn to?" I asked. Stiles face changed, although Scott was still lost.

"Allison." Scott said a hint of confusion in his voice.

"Okay, nothing else? Seriously?" I asked in disbelief.

 "Nothing else mattered. But, no, that's bad, though, right? 'Cause the night that Lydia was bit, she was with that jock." Scott muttered.

"Yeah, but she was looking for - Jackson." I said as Jackson pulled into the school. Jackson was looking even more like a sack of rich dicks today.

"You are so genius!" Stiles whispered into my ear before pulling back and kissing me.

 *Time skip*

"If Lydia wants to take a naked hike in the woods, why should I care?" Jackson asked. We had stopped him at his locker right before practice.

"Because we have a pretty good idea that she might be - you know, turning." Scott said. Stiles had his fingers linked with mine and his arm slung over my shoulder.

"Turning?" Jackson asked. God this dude is unbelievably stupid.

"Yeah. Turning. " Stiles said.

"Into - " Jackson began causing me to roll my eyes and cut him off.

"A unicorn. What do you think, dumbass?" I said. Sarcasm had become my go to when annoyed. Thanks Stiles..I thought to myself.

"Well, I think that if Lydia's turning, she's not the one that's gonna need help." Jackson said. He confused me and before I got the chance to ask Scott did.  

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, God, you've got it all backwards, McCall. When I was with Lydia, you should have seen the scratch marks she left on me. What do you think she's gonna do with a set of real claws? Heh." Jackson said. I felt my heart beat rise, just because he broke up with her doesn't mean he has the right to be such a fucking asshole when it comes to her. I can honestly say that at that point I no longer hated her, I even thought of her as a best friend. Jackson walked away and I walked to class.

*Time skip*

"All right, it's causing me severe mental anguish to say this, but he's right." Stiles said.

"I know." Scott and I said at the same time.

Harris was passing out our tests now. Although I had been with Bree the day we took them I had made it up.  We were also taking a pop quiz, sadly.

 "What if the next body part she steals is from someone who's still alive?" Stiles asked  Scott, I was sitting next to Stiles, so I guess you could say he asked me too.

"This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski. If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career." Harris hissed from the front of the room.

"Can you do that?" Stiles asked. Oh god....

"Well, there it is again. Your voice. Triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student repeatedly and violently. I'll see you at 3:00 for detention." Scott and I shared glances while Scott and the rest of the class giggled. "You too, Mr. McCall? Ms. Blackridge?" Harris asked. Scott turned around and I felt hatred burn in my soul.

"No, sir." Scott and I said at the same time.

*Time skip*

Allison and I were talking in the hallway. She's taking this all pretty hard and I can't blame her.  She pulled a note out of her locker that said "Because I love you" on it in Scott's hand writing. They were so cute together.

"Nice dress." Someone said causing Allison and I to flip around. It was Matt..Or..I think that's his name at least.

"Nice camera." Allison said. Then I heard something that would have caused me to have a mental breakdown, but Allison held her ground, with tears in her eyes.

 "Not her sister, her aunt. The one who murdered all those people. "

"You mean the crazy bitch who killed all those people? "

"Yeah, the fire, all those animal attacks - it was her aunt. "

"Are you kidding? I sit next to her in English."

"Find a new seat." It was Harley and some girl I didn't recognize. Allison slammed her locker and walked away. Then I did something that was totally uncharacteristic for myself.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" I spat into Harley's face. She looked a bit taken back and honestly, if I wasn't human I wouldn't have been able to hold myself back from ripping her heart out.

"Well, I'm not some crazy bitch with a crazy aunt who kills people." Harley laughed in my face. The other girl had walked away.

"You know what, you judgmental little bitch, keep your thoughts to yourself! You have no fucking idea what Allison is going through right now." I yelled into her face. Everyone who was in the hall was staring at the scene I was making.

"Oh right. Well, You're nothing but a freak, who couldn't find anyone who would keep you. Nobody wants y-" Harley's words stung and before I knew what I was doing I punched her dead in the face. Her nose was bleeding and she grabbed me by the hair and threw my face into the locker. I reacted by grabbing her arm and pulling it out of my hair. Then I grabbed a fistful of her hair and brought her face down then repeatedly kneed her in the face. She pushed me over and pinned me down by sitting on me with her knees trapping my arms. Her fists connected with my face several times before I flipped us over and pinned her down the same way she'd done me. I hit her. Once. Twice. 3 times. 4 times. Her blood was all over my fists and my own down my shirt. It really wasn't a fair fight at all, considering my training with Derek. Then I felt someone wrap their arms around my waist and pull me up.

"Let go of me Stiles!" I screamed.

"Alex! Calm down!" He yelled.. He was surprisingly strong, and held my feet off the ground.

"Get the fuck off of me right now!" I yelled. I was thrashing and kicking and someone had helped Harley to her feet by this point and when they went to walk past me I managed to kick her in the face twice before Stiles pulled me back.

"ALEX!" Scott's voice rang through The hallway. I calmed down after a minute.

"Take her to the office." Harris. hissed.

"Can I set you down now?" Stiles asked. I nodded my head and he did just that. He escorted me to the office while everyone stared at me,. the quiet girl, with big eyes.

"Alex...You didn't have to do that." Allison said with tears in her eyes. And she was right..But I wanted to. I wanted to tear Harley apart. I wanted to kill her..

"I know.." I said as tears threatened to fall from my eyes but I held them back.

The principal told me I was suspended for 3 days. I didn't object. And I'm pretty sure that I had re-broken one of my ribs. I know that my wrist was okay because of the cast. Mom came and got me from school and didn't say anything to me on the way home.

"Am I grounded?" I asked when we walked into the house.

"Why did you attack that girl?" Mom asked and I looked down to my feet. "Alex..?" Mom asked.

"She was talking about Allison and she made Allison cry." I said. Mom fell silent and looked at me.

"Well, then no. You aren't grounded. But don't think for one second Bree isn't going to hear about this." Mom said and I sighed with relief.

*Time skip*

Stiles just got out of detention and he is coming to pick me up so that we could be at Kate's funeral. Not that we were invited or anything, we came to support Allison with Scott.

 "Yo." Stiles said as we crouched next to Scott who was behind a tombstone.

 "Who the hell is that?" I asked as I watched the funeral. There was an older man talking to Allison, he had just hugged Mr. and Mrs. Argent.

"He's definitely an Argent." Scott said as he listened to their conversation, something I wished I was able to do. Then he looked over towards us and we had to hide.

"Hey, you know, maybe they're just here for the funeral. I mean - what if they're the non - hunting side of the family? There could be non - hunting Argents. It's possible, right?" Stiles said. I doubted that there were any Agrents who didn't hunt.

"I know what they are. They're reinforcements." Scott said. I felt my stomach drop and knew this wasn't going to be good. Then out of no where Stiles and Scott were hoisted into the air by the collars of their shirts. I stood up in habit and got into a defensive position. But relaxed when I saw who it was holding the boys.

"Ah. The three of you. Unbelievable. Pick up my tie." It was Sheriff Stilinski. I quickly grabbed the tie at Sheriff Stilinski's  feet.

"Got it. Sorry. I know, I'm supposed to ask." Stiles said.

We were lead to his car where we had to sit, uncomfortably, waiting for him to decide our punishments.

"4 - 1 - 5 Adam." The car radio thing said.

"I didn't copy that. Did you say 4 - 1 - 5 Adam?" Sheriff said into the speaker. I looked at Stiles with big eyes. He knows what all of the codes and stuff the cops use mean.

"Disturbance in a car." Stiles answered.

"They were taking a heart attack victim - D.O.A. But on the way to the hospital, something hit 'em." The officer from the crash site answered.

 "What - hit the ambulance?" Sheriff asked. I knew this couldn't be good, I could feel it in my stomach.

"Copy that. I'm standing in front of it right now. Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere." Oh god...

"All right, unit 4, what's your 20?" Sheriff asked the officer.

"Route 5 and post. I swear, I've never seen anything like this." That's all we needed. We shared knowing glances and snuck out of the police car. You see, with Scott and Stiles as your friends its easy to find yourself in a law breaking situation. We hopped into the jeep and were in front of the crash site in minutes. We snuck off into the woods and hid with our bodies going down the side of a hill.

"What the hell is Lydia doing?" I asked as we had all agreed that Lydia had turned and was the one to attack the ambulance.

"I don't know." Scott said. I sucked in a deep breath as we watched. There was, indeed, blood every where and something hadn't just hit the ambulance, it had basically destroyed one side of it. Ripped the back doors off of the hinges.

"What kept you from doing that, was it Allison?" Stiles asked making me tear my eyes from the scene in front of me.

"I hope so." Scott said.

"It was you, for me. " I said looking at Stiles. He responded by kissing my forehead.

"Do you need to get closer?" I asked Scott. I had told him that when he caught Lydia's sent that I was going with him, he tried to tell me no but one stern pissed off look shut him right up. Scott sniffed the air for Lydia's sent.

"No, I got it." Scott said. "Alex, are you sure that you want to come with me?" I nodded my head yes. "And you're sure that you can keep up?" I thought about the question.

"Scott, I'm sure that you can carry an extra hundred pounds if you need to." I said. I turned and kissed Stiles. Scott and Stiles both stared at me as if waiting for me to change my mind. " I just need to find her. All right? Please, just - just let me find her. I was there at the lacrosse field when she was attacked and bitten by Peter and I should have been able to stop it, but I didn't. I just want to help find her, Scott." I said. That's all it took.  

Scott and I took off running following Lydia's scent. About 100 meters into the hunt I had to get on Scott's back because I wasn't fast enough. His heightened strength made it easier for him to carry me and run. With in minutes we found something..Well someone. I told Scott to let me down so that he could chase after who ever it was. I ran after them. I saw that it looked like they were fighting so I pushed myself to a dead sprint. But the other werewolf had already begun running when I caught up to them.

"Wait!" Scott yelled after him. I jumped onto Scott's back and we set off to find this other werewolf that Scott had informed me wasn't Lydia. We watched him get strung up by his arms, by a trip wire like the one that was at the Hale house. I jumped off as Scott tried to help him. Some on clamped a hand around my mouth and pulled me behind a tree. He told me to stay and I did as I was told.  Then tackled Scott to the ground and pulled him to the same place I was.

"Wait! Stop! What are you doing? I can help him." Scott yelled as he was held behind the tree to my right.

"They're already here." Derek hissed.

 "I can help him!" Scott yelled but it was too late, in the distance, only about 20 meters away were the hunters.

"Quiet!" Derek whispered as he pointed out the hunters. We were close enough for me to hear part of the conversation held by the hunters and their prey. They stuck some kind of electric torture device to him and his screams echoed through my mind. This isn't right. I thought to myself. I was on the verge of tears just watching.

"You're not from here, are you? Are you?!" I heard Chris Argent yell. I didn't get to hear the wolf's response, as he was talking to quietly for my human ears to pick up on. But when the man from the funeral, the reinforcement, spoke, I heard every word.

"Gentlemen! Take a look at a rare sight. You wanna tell them what we've caught?" He yelled to the surrounding hunters.  

"An omega." Chris yelled in response.

"The lone wolf! Possibly kicked out of his own pack. Or the survivor of a pack that was hunted down. Maybe even murdered. And possibly alone by his own choice. Certainly not a wise choice." The man said as he walked back to the group. He grabbed something long and shimmery, and at first I didn't know what. But as he walked closer I saw that it was sword..NO! I screamed in my head. By this time I had crawled, ever so slowly over to the tree that Scott and Derek were. I sat, basically on top of Scott's lap.

"Because, as I am about to demonstrate - an Omega rarely survives - On his own." He said as he was now standing in front of the suspended wolf. I let out a cry as he brought the sword back and swung it with such force it cut straight through the waist line of the wolf. I buried my head in to Scott's head and he set a hand on my hair. I was crying at this point.

"Look. Look. Look at them!" Derek said as he forced my head up, by putting pressure on my neck. He did the same to Scott. we tried to fight it, I couldn't look..But I gave up as I realized the only way for Derek to release the grip on my neck was to oblige. "You see what they do? This is why you need me. Why we need each other. The only way to fight them is together." I was choking back sobs.  I felt like I was going to be sick as I stared at the man, who seconds ago was still alive, that did not have any thing below his waist. He legs lay useless on the ground covered in his own blood. I looked back up to the upper half of him, his guts were hanging from his stomach.. I felt Derek let go of my neck and Scott wrapped his arms around me while I silently cried into him

"What are they doing?" Scott asked. It was like my entire body shut down and I became numb and motionless as I knew that if I moved I was going to puke.

"Declaring war." Derek stated.

"We have a code." I heard the distant voice of Chris Argent yell.

"Not when they murder my daughter. No code. Not anymore. From now on, these things are just bodies waiting to be cut in half. Are you listening? Because I don't care if they're wounded and weak.Or seemingly harmless - begging for their life with the promise that they will never, ever hurt anyone. Or some desperate, lost soul with no idea what they're getting into. We find them. We kill them. We kill them all." Came the response from the man with the sword. I felt everything inside of me change and I knew that I needed to do something about this humanity shit before someone else I cared about was hurt in the on coming war. I got a text from Stiles saying they found Lydia shortly after we left. A wave of relief washed over me after I read it.

I made up my mind to ask Derek to do it. He was as much a pack member to me as Scott was. I kept him alive, I fought for him. He helped us. I shared a personal connection with him, not like the connection I shared with Scott as his Guardian, but it was still there. Now, I just need to find a way to bring myself to ask..