#my enjoyment is not gonna pay the fucking bills

[confuse-and-lonely]

Drawing goes through such an ugly phase that i am having an identity crisis

[aideski]

I’ve been thinking about the way SQH is portrayed in the svsss fandom for a hot second now.

Majority of the fandom usually portrays peak lord SQH somewhere along the lines of short, chubby, mousy man, but i have seen lean build SQH— honestly, i’ve seen a lot, and i enjoy all portrayals of peak lord SQH. But what i’ve been mostly thinking about is how airplane is portrayed.

Airplane was a struggling man, we all know that. A struggling man who at first wrote PIDW as a way to vent, but because of the fan’s wants, resorted to writing horrible porn with basically no plot, and PIDW immediately became a bestseller or something (+ squired the most known hater on the face of the earth: peerless cucumber (ok maybe not most known hater ever but you can’t convince that not many people outside of PIDW’s community haven’t at least heard the infamous name peerless cucumber, cmon) )

He was struggling for money, and he said so himself. Like, at first he posted for his own enjoyment, to vent and get his ideas out there, and his story’s weren’t that popular and he barely got any revenue for it. But PIDW was different. It sparked something in readers and it blew up in popularity. Readers didn’t want plot though, they wanted LBH to papapa every woman he possibly could! And how could airplane say no to them, when he needed the money?

Here’s my point: i’ve seen airplane portrayed as chubby or sometimes past that, but i personally, based off airplane’s backstory, i think it could also be the opposite

Yeah sure Shen Yuan, you can take the skinny, lanky stay-at-home guy card if you want, since your backstory is mostly obscure and is mostly fandom-made atp, but i think airplane already has that card. SQH has basically been living paycheck to paycheck as far as we know, so wouldn’t he be less that chubby? Or something

See, i say this from personal experience. If airplane truly was struggling with money and everything, wouldn’t he also have difficulty acquiring food? You don’t just live somewhere and not have to pay for anything: you have to pay for water bills, electricity bills, ac bills, ex cetera ex cetera. And if SQH was posting fat chapters back to back (i think), wouldn’t his electricity bill be pretty high? The money he’d receive from PIDW would have to be first used to pay all of his bills, and then food, and then himself.

Airplane changed his own desires and ideas for PIDW for money. He changed PIDW’s entire course so fans would invest more into the story, for money. Yeah sure call him money-hungry without context to that statement, but based on the way MXTX portrays him, i think he was just trying to survive while writing what he loved. And then he couldn’t even do that because it wasn’t getting enough attention.

imo

I think, if that was the case, airplane would be in the same spot as SY: skinny, lanky, around there. Or maybe even less, underweight. Maybe he had plenty of food before, but something happened, and now he’s in a tight spot with money, and from there he’s lost weight, or maybe he just never had enough to eat from the beginning. At least that’s what i think

In my head, that explains why peak lord SQH is usually portrayed as chubby: now that he has food, and unlimited cash (well, as unlimited as possible without looking suspicious since he’s the An Ding peak lord), he doesn’t want it to go to waste, or something along those lines. What is the system going to do, revoke OOC points? Damn it, he’s the author of this hellhole! And besides, he transmigrated as a baby; what are you gonna do System, revoke me some points because og SQH wasn’t chubby? Fuck that, i can do whatever i want, I wrote him!

(This kinda goes off the rails but because of that when SQH goes out to meet shitty merchants who think they’re better than him peak lord missions fitting of the An Ding peak lord and he sees a child who’s malnutritioned or around those lines, he thinks of himself and automatically takes them to An Ding for a better life)

(This has become such a habit that the Peak Lord are not even phased when SQH randomly says during a monthly peak lord meeting “oh yeah i took in x amount of disciples in recently” and MQF asks to check on them and SQH says “sure yeah and also check if they’re fitting for other peaks while you’re at it” because as much as he loves them and wants to be with them he doesn’t want his all of his children to take on the job he has because fuck, taxes are boring and dealing with YQY is worse… it’s better to deal with LQG not turning in his paperwork than having to deal with YQY’s fake ahh persona, like damn i didn’t know i wrote him so infuriatingly ouch)

(Edit: thanks to that comments that informed me better. people can be fat even without getting any food, and im going to be honest i didn’t know about that, and that’s mostly because of my illinformation. because of genetics, even people with eating disorders/those trying to lose weight can still be overweight due to genetics. sorry guys! but to clarify, this is just a headcanon, and because of that information for this hc SQH doesn’t fall in that pool. sorry if it sounds insensitive, i do have difficulties with how i word things!)

[decepti-thots]

cdrw cursed au (also semirelated: where's that post about prowl making cd wear cat ears at a furry con)

fsdkjsjsfjs THAT WAS ON MY NSFW YEAH. here, for everyone's enjoyment, context free:

anyway. cdrw au where they meet at a hellish "wellness retreat" that rewind is doing a covert youtube "documentary" on because it's definitely a fucking cult. rewind is the kind of youtuber who could probably be making actually interesting content if his subscribers didn't all riot every time he posted something that wasn't clickbait, and he didn't have bills to pay after his rich husband died and most of the will went to the family because they weren't legally married. (minimus did try to help, but they had an argument, and then he uh. disappeared? anyway he is no longer any help.) chromedome got the job through his ex, and he knows it's all terrible and hates it, but he's been doing this for five years and his CV is gonna look weird as hell if he leaves it off and terrible if he puts it on. chromedome catches rewind snooping around and is like honestly? don't even care. want the keys to the """guru's""" office where all her fake tax returns are? rewind winds up stealing all her weed and getting high with chromedome and explaining about his totally not actually dead husband, he swears. and chromedome gets all sad, and rewind's "i can fix him" alarm goes off. they start dating after the place goes bust following rewind's video going viral. chromedome is a youtube boyfriend now. there's conspiracy theories he killed dominus that also go viral on tiktok, probably.

[thetrueviagraspider]

Top 10 Biggest Red Flags in Men

Number 10: Lack of trust

if we dont trust each other then why are we hanging out? It would feel better if both of us felt safe as much as possible.

Number 9: Narcissism

I've dealt with enough narcissists in my life and I ain't gonna deal with any more If I can choose not to.

Number 8: Refusing to Split the Bill

If we're gonna be equals, then you gotta split the bill one way or the other. Doesn't matter if its officially split or who pays alternates between eating out. Financial domination is cringe

Number 7: No Social Life

LMAO THIS LOSER CAN'T GET ANYONE TO LIKE HIM. REST IN PEACE BOZO

Number 6: Unhealthy Eating Habits

I feel we all understand this one. If they're too fat how am I supposed to fit them in the trunk of my car? On the other end, if they're too thin how am I supposed to have a good meal when I get home?

Number 5: Getting Help

If you're such a "big, strong man", then why the fuck you need a tHeRaPiSt? just repress your emotions like your fathers before you and develop severely unhealthy coping mechanisms. truly a skill issue if you need help.

Number 4: Not Covering Up

Men, you need to cover your tiddies, no nipple should be visible. They're too damn hot. How am I supposed to focus when I keep getting distracted by them man tiddies?

Number 3: Not Being a Virgin

If that BUSSY isn't as tight as Fort Knox this will not work out. I need it to shoot my attempts at penetration with 5.56mm to get any enjoyment from it. Loose bussy means they might know what they like; can't have that now can we?

Number 2: Being Straight

we all know how straight people act. there's NO WAY I can handle being around that for more than a few hours.

Number 1: The Y Chromosome

Let's face it, men are genetically inferior. They lack the genetic diversity to function properly, as evident by their constant stupidity. trans men > cis men for this exact reason

[happiiest]

[angelsmist]

UNEXPECTED CIRCUMSTANCES - HBCU!SHURI X READER

prompt: a leak in your residence hall calls for unexpected pairings…

contains - cursing, shuri x fem!reader,

disclaimers - this is not my idea!! all credits to @vargskelegore for hbcu shuri. it is an amazing idea. however, the storyline is mine. also, i would prefer if only black people read this story, simply because it is a reader insert specifically for us. thank you <3

this will be a continuous story that i use, but with different prompts. but it will follow about the same storyline. feel free to request !

“Girl, are you fucking serious?”

“Look, my girlfriend offered and I have no reason to decline. I’m sorry.”

You resisted the urge to lunge at your roommate. There was a monoxide leak in your dorm, meaning that you two were kicked out of your housing, amongst many, many others. Both of you agreed that it’d be better to just get a nearby hotel for the time being, but at last minute she switched up and decided to stay with her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s roomie.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to find anyone else on such short notice because, who the hell would accept a third person, especially a stranger, into a dorm meant for two?

“So, what am I supposed to do then? Nobody’s gonna wanna room with me, and I don’t have enough money to pay for any hotels nearby right now,” You argued, practically fuming. The agreement was to split the bill, but now that she had backed out, there was no way for you to pay solo.

“I’m sorry, (name). I’ll try and ask people if they have room to squeeze you in, but for now, just worry about finishing the rest of your classes. We’ll talk later.”

You shut your eyes, huffing loudly. “Okay. But I swear, if I can’t find a place to stay tonight-“

“Chill,” Your roommate, Tati cut you off. “We’ll figure out something.”

“We better,” You grumbled, readjusting your laptop and notebook in hand before turning on your heel to get to your next class.

You had history next, a class that you were dreading simply because your professor was an absolute snooze fest. Nothing in that class was enjoyable.

Well, scratch that. There was just one thing to look forward to in that class.

That happened to be because of the girl who sat next to you during that class. It was none other than the princess of Wakanda herself.

Towards the end of freshman year in college, there were rumors that the Princess Shuri would be enrolling there. It was all just talk, though, so you never really trusted it. Plus, out of all places, why would literal royalty waste her time at a college when she could be traveling the world?

You had moved back in a few weeks before the first day and thought your mind was playing tricks on you when you saw her while you were trying to figure out where your dorm was supposed to be.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until her eyes eventually met yours. She offered a smile, but you stupidly stared back at her dumbfounded, still in shock. That got a laugh out of her as she walked away, leaving you feeling incredibly stupid.

That encounter had lived freely in your mind for a long time. You even told Tati about it, which only made her laugh at you and mock you for actual months about it. She couldn’t blame you, though. The princess was fine as hell.

What you didn’t know was that you’d get a second chance later to make a better impression.

Surprised would be an understatement when you saw Shuri enter your history class. You hoped your mind was playing tricks, but looking around, just about everyone had the same reaction as you.

You looked away from the princess, not wanting a repeat of last time. Everyone else in the class silently hoped that Shuri would make the choice of sitting next to them.

It was when you heard shuffling on the opposite side of you that you realized someone had taken the seat on the very end of the row you were sitting in.

The seat next to you.

And well, the rest was history. Heh, get it?

“You look stressed,” Shuri noted, snapping you out of your thoughts. It was like your brain had been in auto-pilot while you were walking to class.

Shutting your eyes, you grumbled in frustration. “Is it that obvious?”

She hummed in response with a nod, sitting up from her chair to shift closer to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nah, we can talk about this later. We got a presentation due like next week and we’ve barely started,” You dismissed, pulling up Powerpoint. You two had been paired up for a project.

“Yes, but I know you, and I know we won’t be able to do this assignment properly until you tell someone why you are so tense.”

“Okay, first of all, you don’t gotta call me out like that.” You narrowed your eyes at the princess. “Second of all, you heard about that leak in one of the residence halls?”

Shuri’s nod was your signal to continue. “Yeah, so, I was living there. And my plan was to book a hotel room with my roommate until the college can get us a more permanent place to stay, but she just backed out at last minute because of another offer. A free one. I can’t afford to buy my own room, so as of now, I literally have nowhere to live. Like, most of my stuff is in my locker in the locker room.”

“You should’ve said something sooner,” Shuri chuckled, tapping her pencil against her notebook. “Like texted me, or something. You can room with me for tonight. Or however long you need to.”

There was no way you’d turn down that offer. “Seriously? You’re okay with me crashing for a little?”

“Of course. It gets lonely every once in a while and I have enough space for two. Consider it a thank you for helping me adjust to college in the first few weeks,” Shuri confirmed, a smile playing at her lips.

“You are a lifesaver,” You breathed out, nodding at your friend. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

Once class ended, you told Shuri you’d meet her in the quad as soon as majorette practice ended. Unfortunately, it was a whole lot longer than you had anticipated. The worst part was, it was an outside practice, so not only did you have to work your ass off, you also had to do with the heat of the sun basically frying you.

Practice could not be over soon enough. By the time it did end, the sun had already began to set and the sky turned a cool blue. You hadn’t had the chance to tell Shuri you’d probably be a little later than you told her because you didn’t have time.

You grabbed your water bottle, wiping sweat off your neck. When you felt a tap on the shoulder, you turned around to see Tati. “Hey, you know Kendall? That junior who bombed her tryout for the team? She has a free spot in her dorm cause the last girl moved out.”

You furrowed your eyebrows suspiciously. “Why’d she move out?”

Tati shrugged in response. “I don’t know, but I could ask her if you want.”

“Nah, I think she has like, a personal vendetta against me. Pretty sure I took her spot this year,” You replied.

“Girl, that wasn’t her spot. She messed up that audition all on her own,” Tati spoke, only half-joking.

You laughed at her harsh, but true words. “It’s all cool, though. I found a temporary roommate, anyways.”

“That’s good! I’m sorry again for bailing on you at last minute.”

“Don’t worry, I get it. We don’t got the money to be booking hotels when there’s a free option. You’re good.” You smiled, closing your water bottle.

You and Tati looked at the other group of majorettes socializing and noticed they had stopped talking to stare at something. Or rather, someone.

“Is that the princess?” You heard one say.

Tati turned to you. “Quick, look away before you end up staring at her like a deer in headlights again.”

You narrowed your eyes at your roommate. “Funny.”

You looked to the entrance of the large stadium that your group was practicing near and you couldn’t say that you weren’t surprised to see Shuri coming through them, looking around your group as if searching for something.

Once her gaze met yours, her eyes lit up as she began to walk towards you. It was like she didn’t even notice the entire team gawking at her.

“Hey, I was getting worried,” Shuri greeted you with a grin. “Are you ready to go?”

You looked at her slightly confused. “Wha…oh! You here for me?”

The princess looked at you as if you were crazy. “Who else would I be here for?”

“Right.” You mentally face-palmed, shutting your eyes for a moment in embarrassment. “I’ll be ready in a second, can you just meet me in the locker room so I can get my stuff out of there?”

Shuri nodded silently before turning away and heading towards the locker rooms just like you had asked.

When you turned to Tati, her eyes were practically bulging out of her head. “You didn’t tell me your new roommate was the princess!”

Tati must’ve said it too loudly, because her word quickly attracted the attention of your teammates, who began to walk towards you.

You knew exactly how this was gonna end. You’d be bombarded with questions you didn’t feel like answering, nor feel comfortable answering. You sent a wave to Tati before jogging towards the doors Shuri had just left through.

“You better tell me everything!” You heard Tati yell before exiting.

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[darthwheezely]

dating george weasley and being a ravenclaw

warnings: stupidly [wickedly] hot men named george fabian weasley, kinda smut, cussing fs, angst because our angel is insecure, also i may have almost cried writing this and it’s sO LONG I AM SO SORRY

people that may like this (?): @whiz-bangs78 @vogueweasley @gcdric (whenever you’re back! :)) @theweasleyslut @thehufflepuffwife @lupinsclassroom @wand3ringr0s3 @kitwalker02 @monoscandal @pansydaisy

i’m obsessy espressy w this pic btw please take it for your enjoyment

this man boy

is so enamored with you

he doesn’t even really know a whole lot about you at first, stealing glances from across the great hall

listening intently when you answer questions in class

he starts to memorize the way you roll your eyes when you ask snape a question you can’t answer

and the way you wrinkle your nose when someone stereotypes you based on your house

you’re fiery, but you’re so poised for quick answers and sharp looks

he would pay big money to have you roast him during class like you do to cormac when he tries to hit on you a lot

which earns him many a revenge prank

and then he starts to try and talk to you, rather foolishly at first

but he finds it so intensely sexy the banter you two get involved in during these interactions

“If it isn’t my favorite little bird, Y/N ;)”

“Aren’t there other nests for you to bother, Weasley?”

“None that I find as mildly riveting, my dear, I do love a bird that chirps back”

“Do you like ones that bite, too?”

“I don’t know if your beak is sharp enough, love”

“Come up to me when I’m reading again, and I’ll give you some harder evidence of just how bad my bite is hmm?”

(Unbeknownst to you as you walk away, he’s already got some harder evidence growing in his jeans...)

he doesn’t stop searching you out, determined to prove to you he’s enough

you two after about a week and a half finally go out to hogsmeade on your first date

he takes you to the three broomsticks where you both drink butterbeer and make deep conversation for hours until close

there’s a point where he makes you laugh so hard you snort and spit out some of your butterbeer

which makes him snort and spit out his butterbeer

he realizes a couple things then:

1) he’s obsessed with the way you tell stories or talk passionately about the subjects you love. he adores watching how you light up everywhere in your body and talk so fast at points you can’t breathe

2) he wants to live in your head. he studies the way you think and watches you intently as you process punchlines and stories and memories and he realizes

i need to be something she thinks about

and without realizing it while you’re laughing super hard he puts his hand on the back of your neck and kisses you like it’s the last night on this planet

after about 12 seconds he pulls away and starts to turn red seeing your blank face unmoved

“i-i’m really sorry i promise i didnt mean to be that guy i just-“

and you’re pressing into him everywhere mouth and body and mind and he’s drinking you in like the butterbeer stained on his scarf and he is totally balls deep in love with you

you two are inseparable after that, making it official on the walk back to the castle

if you’re going on a stress tangent about how much work you have, for Beverly negative thought he’ll press a kiss to a pet of your face until you’re giggling and a mess and you’re kissing him back and then you’re on the table in the library...

“Georgie, you’re gonna kill my grades if we keep doing this!”

“You kill me everytime you blink for godric’s sake and yet here I am!”

he is a simp

he says he isn’t but anytime you bring out the “georgie, please” or “love, please” he turns to butter

fred thinks it’s the funniest shit and he capitalizes on it constantly

he calls you his little bird

most specifically his mockingbird because he claims you always set him at ease and make him feel like everything is centered

and he’s right, you do

you center the wild fire in him when he needs to breathe and look around

you see parts of him that aren’t balanced

there’s a night when you walk in on him just curled on his bed crying

your beautiful boy alone and sad and you instinctively start to cry too

You wrap your arms around him as he turns to you and buried his head in your lap. George, my love, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m not like Fred I’m not like Charlie I’m sure as shit not like Bill I’m not like anyone that’s actually important” he chokes

“George-“

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N. I’m not good enough. For anyone. And I see it and hear about it everyday when my mum brags about how great her kids are and save us for last and when Fred can never shut up about how good he is at EXISTING and I-it swallows me whole, Y/N, I cant feel like this anymore” his body wracks out a harsh sob and you hold him like this

You hold him until he can start to fall asleep and you lay with him until you too, are asleep when he wakes up to tell you

“I love you. Forever, Y/N.”

And you push the hair off his lightly sweaty forehead and tell him “and I love YOU, George Weasley.” and you two fall back asleep happy crying in each other’s arms

he sees you struggle too

struggle with your workload

struggle with your own insecurities of not being good enough for him

telling him you’re just a girl that talks a lot about weird stuff and that you bring him down and he every time cups your face in his hands and pulls you down into him and says

“I love you here.” And kisses your forehead. “I love your mind.” And kisses below your earlobe “and I love you here. How you listen to people and always know what to say” and he kisses your nose “and I love you here, how you snort when you laugh really hard.” And he finally lands on your mouth, staying there for a moment, “and I love you most of all here. When you speak everything in your head and laugh and sing and talk and just breathe, my love. You’ve always been enough in all those places.” He presses one more kiss to your forehead and murmurs “I love you everywhere.”

anyway it’s time for spicy stuff

bow chicka wow wow as Fred would prolly say

George loves fucking you in the library it’s canon

he loves hoisting you on a table or against the stacks and murmuring against your skin how loud you are for him

“Is my little bird wanting to chirp a little louder?” He pries your thighs farther apart prompting a squeak and a small whine. “There it is, love, taking me so well...keep quiet, angel don’t want Pince to know how much of a cockslut you are for me writhing against the shelves do you?”

whew chile anyways

he also likes to touch you when you’re reading to him

but will stop and pull his face away from your neck and your hand from your core when you stop reading to him

“Angel, are you so much of a slut that you can’t focus on the words in front of you?”

“N-no, Georgie, oh my god right there”

“Thereeee, it is-“

mmmmm he’s hot fuck on GOD

when you guys slept together for the first time, he brought you to the *ding ding ding* restricted section after hours

he set up a whole ass blanket and relit the candles and brought pillows

it was very much making love to george and he whispered sweet nothings and praises in your ear the entire time

ugh what a MAN

anyway, TO THE BURROW WE GO!

molly fucking adores you

“My George brought home a beautiful Ravenclaw? Please know, Y/N he is an idiot most of the time and we wouldn’t be hurt if you found an out-“

“JESUS MUM LEAVE ME ALONE SKENSOWOWKWKKW”

again, Fred really does love you and enjoy your company

frequently comments about truly how unconditionally happy George has been, and how happy it makes him to see his younger twin so confident and full of joy

he also wouldn’t say this out loud but the more confident georgie gets, the better his prank plans become

i mean after all - he is the brains of the operations ;)

every chance he gets when you’re around his family or really anyone, he’ll sneak up behind you and plant a hearty kiss on your cheek and a quick “ILOVEYOU” in your ear before running off to do god knows what

oh, y’all bicker constantly

and by bicker i just mean argue about like

aliens

or is Wyoming a state

just like factually dumb but quirky shit

you’ve only had a fight like ONE time

and it was because George took a prank too far with Fred and you didn’t talk to him for an entire day

and because George has a lot of separation anxiety plus fear of abandonment he did not take it really well

You had gone back to your room after dinner in the Great Hall. For the whole day George didn’t eat. You knew because you hadn’t seen him anywhere in the Hall, and none of your classes. When you opened the door you saw him crouching knees pressed to his chest on your bed, he looked like a ghost. He met eyes with you and choked out a sob and ran to you, you opening your arms to hold him. “Please forgive me, Y/N I know you’re hurt but please don’t leave me I’ll be better next time I promise” he got faster and you knew he couldn’t breathe so you just whispered to him you weren’t going to leave you’ll be with him and you’ll stay and mistakes happen, you promise. “Georgie, I promise I’m never leaving. Okay?” He nodded into your shoulder, hunched into you. “I love you so much it hurts.” “I know, Georgie. I know.”

regardless for all his quirks and all his fears and hurts

there is nothing you wouldn’t do

to spend every waking moment with this boy

your love

and he, for the first time, knows he is enough

[euphoriyoongi]

☂︎ Doom at Your Service || p.j.m smau

☂︎ Summary:

you lost your parents at an early age, and now you’re diagnosed with a brain tumor, forcing you to have less than 100 days to live. As you pray for the destruction of the world, the destruction himself—Jimin—comes to live with you in your last days.

☂︎ Pairings: Doom!jimin x sick!reader

☂︎ Word count: 2.4k

☂︎ Warnings: language

prev. // next.

m.list

☂︎일 one— peace out

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

“It’s glioblastoma.” The doctor said, looking down at the paperwork in front of him. “It seems like a few tumors. It’s terminal.”

Terminal? Where did you go wrong in your life for this to happen? Was it because you never did anything else but work?

“It’s why you’ve been dizzy and why you’ve been throwing up.”

All you could do right now was just stare at him, wide eyed.

“We could take more tests—a biopsy—but, the location doesn’t look good.” He let out a sigh, looking behind him to see the Head CT scan.

“I see.” You said, confused, but still understanding his words.

“There’s a surgical option, however,” he stopped speaking and looked up to your eyes, nearly pleading you to take this seriously. “It won’t give you much more time.”

Keeping calm, You asked the question you were dying to hear. “Am I going to die?”

It seemed a bit morbid, but the doctor didn’t seem fazed. “Yes.”

The doctor was silent. He didn’t want to tell you and it was obvious. It might be because you knew him personally outside of the hospital, but right now, he just looked at you with eyes of worry. “If you get the surgery, you’ll have about one good year. At most.” He murmured, bringing his gaze back down to the papers. “But still, it won’t be an enjoyable year.”

“And if I don’t get the surgery?” You questioned, playing with your hands in your lap nervously. You had a feeling he was going to tell you to get the surgery and not worry about time, but what he said sent chills down your spine.

“Three months. Maybe four.” He sighed, flipping through the papers. “Please think about this, you’re going to suffer great pain if you don’t decide on surgery.”

“I couldn’t get off enough days for surgery” You said, calmly.

The doctor looked dumbfounded. “But I—I think this is much more serious than missing a bit of work.”

You couldn’t think. Maybe it was the tumor making you think that You couldn’t, but you were overwhelmed. You tried to keep your calm, and stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back behind you. “You seem like a real doctor.” You said to him with a smile.

He was a real one, but he was also a writer, and you were his editor. You couldn’t help but feel like this was all some sort of joke. It wasn’t, though, and he didn’t laugh. “Just make sure you get your writing in on time.” You said, forcing a smile. “Then,”

You started to walk away and out of the room when he called out to you again. “I trust you to make the right decision, whatever way it is for you. But please, if you decide surgery, come here or call as soon as possible.”

Now out of the room, you walked down the corridor and towards the atrium. The words the doctor said hit you straight through the heart. You didn’t want the surgery. You had too much work to do. You wouldn’t be able to. You might as well enjoy whatever time you have in life.

“Glioblastoma..” You muttered under your breath. “Glioblastoma..”

As you kept saying that treacherous word over and over again, You must’ve not of been paying attention to where you were walking. You bumped into someone in a white doctors coat, and as he caught you in his arms, your heart beat a bit faster as you looked up to his face.

What kind of..face?

Sure, he was beautiful. His eyes were sharp, and his lips looked soft you nearly reached out to touch them. His hair was some sort of dark blue..maybe green? Possibly even black. It was the kind of color the human eye would have difficulty deciphering. He was stunning. But as stunning as he was, when he opened his mouth, he knew it too. “I know I’m handsome. But I’m busy.” He smirked, and lifted you back up to your feet and walked away.

You watched him walk, his footsteps making little pit-pats on the tile floor. He was even attractive from the back as his white coat flowed behind him.

Breaking out of your funk, you continued to walk towards the reception desk to check out. “Hi, I’m Y/L/N, Y/N checking out.”

Just as you finished your sentence, sirens started blaring right outside the entrance door, and paramedics rushed in with multiple stretchers, sending the people around staring to worry about what happened. On the tv next to the desk, it showed on the news that there was a large-scale stabbing. He stabbed seven people, and all of them were rushed to this hospital. And well, you guess this included the perpetrator as well.

You gritted your teeth. “That crazy—“

“Mam? Are you going to pay?” The receptionist called out to you, and you brought your attention back to her.

“Ah, yes..”

Looking at the bill, it was nearly seven-hundred dollars. Your eyes widened and you nearly said some things You shouldn’t say. “Crazy—“

“What?” The lady tilted her head at you, her eyes squinting.

“Ah, never mind.” You looked around the room. “Can I pay this in monthly installments?”

The lady started to type on her computer. “For how many months?”

The doctor’s words flooded back into your mind when she said the word “month”. It reminded you that you would only have a few of those to live…and it was strange to think you don’t have longer. Just an hour ago you were living your life like normal, thinking you’d have forever to go. Truth is, life isn’t permanent. And it’s only a matter of time when you get a death sentence.

Smiling, you just said the only amount of time you have. “For three months, please.”

Back in the emergency room, Jimin stood in the midst of all the injuries, watching the stretchers roll in one by one.

Not yet. He thought to himself, watching a stretcher with a man bleeding heavily. He couldn’t help them. It was their fate.

Just then, another stretcher rolled in. This time, it was followed by multiple paramedics and he was put onto an ER bed.

There he is.

Since Jimin was dressed up in a hospital coat, the paramedic started to explain the situation. “He’s the perpetrator. He tried to kill himself on the scene. The police are on their way.”

He nodded, and turned to his right, where a nurse was coming to tend to the patient. She noticed that he didn’t have a badge with his name on it, and blinked at him. “Excuse me, which department are you—“

He interrupted her by fixing the sleeve of her top, and she stared at him right into his eyes. Big mistake. He stared back, gazing deeply into her as if compelling her. He was.

Her eyes widened as he didn’t even need to say any words for her to listen to him.

Smirking at her, Jimin leaned in closer. “Pull the curtain around the perpetrator. I need you to make sure no one but the police can enter.” He demanded, staring intently at her until she answered.

“Yes doctor.”

He smirked again as she walked away, and made his way back to the man who didn’t deserve to die after hurting all of those people. It wasn’t fair.

The man was heavily bleeding from the stab wound he made himself of his neck, and laid lifelessly as Jimin neared. “Open your eyes, prick.”

As if on command, the man’s eyes pierced awake, getting a blurry image of Jimin standing over him with a frown.

He laid there without speaking as he nervously looked at Jimin, who wasn’t helping him at all. “Ah, I see. You think you are something, eh?” He sneered, a smile resting on his face. “We’ll I’m the one who’s something. You’re nothing.”

He leaned closer to the man. “It feels as if you parked in my goddamn parking spot. A horrible park job, by the way. Totally ruined my mood.”

He let out a few groans and he tried to look away, but couldn’t seem to.

Annoyed, Jimin had enough. He reached out his hand and choked the man, gritting his teeth. “Move your fucking car.”

The man was confused, he hasn’t parked anywhere. He realized that it wasn’t a car he was talking about. It was the action he did. Doom. He brought doom on peoples lives and well, that was jimin’s job.

He choked him still, the man’s hands coming to grasp onto Jimin’s pleading to let go.

“See, doom isn’t your job. It’s mine. You were completely careless.” He hissed, wiping his eyebrow with his free hand.

A smile dawned on his face. “So I’m gonna be just as careless.”

The man grabbed onto Jimin’s white coat, blood smearing onto it. “I’m going to make you pay for taking my parking place.” He nearly growled, and focused his attention to the man’s neck wound, healing it as he groaned in pain. He didn’t deserve to die. To get away with what he did.

The man let go of his grip on Jimin when he realized he had been healed, and stared up at him in shock, holding onto his neck and panicking.

Jimin smirked, and turned around as if to walk away, but had a sudden thought.

“Ah, one more thing.” Jimin said, turning around to face the man, who was clutching his neck. “There’s something that’s much more dreadful than doom.”

Silence took over the space they were in, the man still gasping for air and Jimin having his arms crossed over his chest with a smile.

“Life.”

At that, he abruptly turned and was about to leave, when the police moved the curtain. “We’re the police.”

Smirking, Jimin looked over at the criminal.

The criminal groans and cried, watching Jimin fade from his view, his smirk never ceasing.

He walked away, proudly, leaving the police behind to do the justice.

No one gets away with taking his job.

No one.

On a balcony of the hospital, a tall man stood, overlooking the view of the city. He wore hospital clothes, and slippers that seemed to be too small for him. As he heard footsteps nearing him, he knew who it was. “You’re here?”

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked him, walking up next to him to overlook as well.

He looked over at him, noticing the large blood stain obviously visible on the white coat. “You could’ve at least changed.”

Jimin huffed. “I didn’t so I could show you it.”

He then hit himself in the spot where the blood was, and it began to disappear as if it was never there. “Some kind of god you are.” He muttered, leaning up against the balcony’s railing. “Are to tired of this hospital life, too? You have the whole world in your hands.”

The man scoffed, running his hand through his shortly cropped brown hair. “You try being sick.”

“There you go again, acting all pitiful.” Jimin smiled, looking towards him.

They both looked out to the skyline, where the sun was nearly setting. The sky had a bit of and orange hue to it, reflecting against the buildings.

“I feel like a gardener.” Namjoon smirked, still looking away from Jimin. “I’m always planting and watering. Wishing it will all grow.”

He then turned to Jimin. “But not all of them sprout. And some that do, can be poisonous plants. Some medicinal herbs. Who knows.”

He was talking about the earth. Joon was a god. He was the reason Jimin existed. It felt strange that his fate was all because of him.

“But..” Joon carried off, turning away. “The garden doesn’t belong to the gardener.”

Catching him off guard, Jimin furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what am I? In this garden of yours.” He asked him seriously, hoping to get some kind of assurance that he wasn’t only living to bring doom to the world.

“You’re a butterfly.” Namjoon said, smiling.

Jimin scoffed. “Until when? How long will I be a butterfly?”

He was inderectly asking how long will he have to live as a death-bringer. A walking ticking time bomb that was never able to live amongst human kind, only to watch destruction that was brought upon by him. He didn’t even mean to do the things he did most of the time, and unhappiness just occurred around him. It was like the would would drain if color just by the sight of him.

Namjoon stared at Jimin, tilting his head. “Forever.” He sinfully smiled, noticing Jimin’s frown as he said it.

Jimin scoffed again. “Damn man, you’re so cruel. Even on someone’s birthday.”

Joon’s happy demeanor shifted. “Birthday? Someone?” He shook his head. “Since when were you born? You were never born. And you were never a human, so how could you be someone?”

Jimin felt his heart crack a bit. He shouldn’t be upset about that statement, but he was. He silently looked at Joon, waiting for him to keep going.

Joon just sighed, and rested his elbows on the railing. “Go, be someone’s wish today. It’s the only day you could do it.”

“Even my birthday isn’t for me.” He said, bitterly, and feeling bitter as well. He just wanted to have a purpose in life, and not it being doom. Destruction. Pain. Irritation.

“It’s for the humans.” Joon smiled.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Those damn flowers.”

Humans were the only reason of his existence. And he wanted it to be over. He didn’t want to live anymore, especially with the way he was living. The only way he could cease to exist was if the humans did, too.

They both stood there quietly, looking over the world as if it’s in the palm of their hands.

[booksonablog]

Self-Defense - Johnny Lawrence Imagine Part 1

Summary: Johnny finds out you know a little bit of self-defense, but learns you don’t know enough as you should when trouble ensues when he’s not around.

Author’s Note: I’m in the middle of writing part 2 so stay tuned and enjoy this first part! (Also I tried very hard to create my own gifs and only one managed to work for some reason so bare with me)

It was nine-fifteen in the evening, you were counting the minutes till you could clock out. It’s not that you hated your job, but it surely wasn’t the job of your dreams. It was something to pay the bills while you worked on your career. It was a trendy hipster bar and restaurant, so it wasn’t the worst. The other employees weren’t too bad, really the worst part of the job was the sleazy men that drowned themselves in liquor and harassed the customers and workers. Your manager had his fair share of jerks he had to kick out, but the past couple months remained enjoyable.

You handed the drink menus to your last table, two young men on a guys night out. You headed back to the bar when you caught eyes with a handsome blonde walking through the doors. He nodded to the hostess, pointing at your direction with a grin on his face. You blushed, making your way behind the bar. He claimed a seat directly in front of you.

He smirked, “Hi beautiful.”

“Hello handsome.” You leaned on the bar.

“I know you get out at nine-thirty but I couldn’t wait to see you.” He winked.

You blushed, flashing him a flirty grin. From the corner of your eye, you caught the men at your table staring at you. You held up your index finger at Johnny.

“One sec.”

He nodded, not-so casually checking you out as you made your way to the table. He returned his attention to the bar, signaling the bartender.

“Sorry about that, what can I get ya?”

“I’m not sure-” One of the men hesitated, the drink menu still in his hand.

“Well, if you’re looking for something strong, I recommend the ‘Shift Drink.’ It’s mixed with a little rye whiskey and ginger syrup, it’s a classic cocktail. But if you’re looking for something sweeter, I’d recommend ‘The Blood and Sand.’ It’s mixed with both orange juice and sweet vermouth. Or the ‘Peach Blood and Sand,’ replacing the orange juice with peach flavoring. Do you like peach?”

“Well -” the man started, completely ignoring your spiel.

“I do.” His friend added, his hand grazing your butt in admiration. You jumped at the touch, though you weren’t the only one. Johnny had turned right at the moment the man put his hand on you, causing him to jump out of his seat, making a beeline towards the table. Meanwhile, you had instinctively grabbed the man by his wrist, pulling it up and towards his back, slamming his head on the table. The commotion shook the restaurant, everyone now staring. Johnny had stopped in his tracks at the scene.

You bent down to the man’s ear. “If you ever lay a hand on me again I’ll break your fucking arm.” You whispered with gritted teeth. Your manager tapped your shoulder, you whipped your head, still in fight mode. He gave you the signal to take off a few minutes early. You released the man’s arm, turning back towards the bar. Johnny gently reached for your arm as you passed him. You looked up, completely oblivious to how close he was to the scene.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “Just gonna get my jacket.” He nodded back, walking towards the bar as you made your way to the backroom.

He reached for his wallet, paying for his drink and tipping the bartender while he waited. You were slipping your arms in your jacket as you made your way over to Johnny. He shoved his wallet in his back pocket, you slipped your arm between his. He peered down at you with a small smile before the two of you exited the restaurant.

***

Throughout the car ride and on the way to your door, the two of you had joked about the situation at the restaurant.

“Who would’ve thought that the sweetest angel in the world could break a man’s arm.” The two of you laughed, arriving at the front of your door. You turned to face him.

“But seriously babe, where did that come from?” He grinned with intrigue.

You shrugged. “YouTube I guess. Ever since I got this job, I thought it would be crucial to learn self-defense, even if it’s just a move or two.”

Well,” He started with a teasing smirk plastered on his face,  “I wouldn’t wanna fight you, you’re pretty feisty.”

You blushed with a laugh, pushing him playfully before pulling him into a kiss.

***

- Several Weeks Later -

“Have a good night!” You hollered to the clerk, the door closing behind you with a ring. You had made a quick run to the mini-mart for some milk, it was only a few blocks away from your apartment so you chose to walk rather than waste gas. It was late, pushing nine o’clock. You quickly realized it may not have been the best idea to walk alone at night, especially in such a dimly lit area. You pulled your phone out of your purse to call Johnny, his voice alone made you feel at ease.

Back at the dojo, Johnny was wrapping up with his students.

“Fight!”

Before Mitch could take a second step, Hawk had kicked him halfway off the mat. In the backroom, Johnny's phone vibrated on his desk, the screen illuminating your name.

You sighed, pulling the phone away from your face. The sound of footsteps echoed behind you. You listened closely, your eyes wide. The sound matched yours, same pace, same route, with the exception of the weight the sound carried. You redialed Johnny’s number.

“Alright now I don’t wanna hear any bitchin’ or moanin’ about feeling sore in the morning. You’re here to work hard and be badass.” His phone continued to be ignored as he wrapped up his session.

You held the phone to your face, hoping it would appear as if someone was on the other line. You dared to turn your head only to find no one behind you. You slowly turned your head, eyes wandering over the environment behind you. You turned - smack - you collided with the chest of a tall man towering over you. You quickly backstepped. Two heavy hands wrapped around your arms from behind you. You jumped with a shriek, the screen of your phone cracked as it hit the ground, the carton of milk exploded over the concrete. The man in front of you grinned before taking his steps towards you.

Miguel was the last to leave the dojo, like most nights. Johnny made his way to the backroom, closing the door behind him as he changed out of his clothes. He placed his belongings in his bag, grabbing his phone. The device illuminated, exposing two missed calls from you. He dialed your number, pressing his shoulder to his ear as he gathered his bag and locked the back room. He walked across the dojo, your voicemail playing in his ear. Beep

“Hey babe, sorry I missed your call, was wrapping up with the kids. I’m on my way out, I’ll swing by your place -” He shut the lights to the dojo off, locking the door behind him. “I’ll see you soon.” He hung up, opening the door to his Challenger.

***

Johnny had knocked on your door for the second time.

“Babe?” Silence. He sighed, shifting his focus to the outside hallway. He dialed your number again.

Nothing. He pulled his phone down and stared at it. It was past ten, he knew you didn’t work late.

He walked down the steps, starting to feel the heat rise in his chest as he grew to wonder where you were. He figured you’d probably call him by the time he reached his place.

***

He stared at his phone on the kitchen counter. He took another swig of beer and nearly choked at the rapid knocking on his door. He sped to the door and opened it to see one of the most heartbreaking sights he’s encountered. There you were, trembling at his door. Tears had stained your scratched cheeks, a dark bruise covered your right cheekbone, blood peaked behind your hair from the corner of your head. Your lip, cut, quivered in humiliation and terror. Johnny pulled you in his apartment, as if the action would protect you from further pain.

He turned to you, his throat drying up. He swallowed, “Who did this to you?” He asked in a low but stern voice.

“Johnny-” You choked.

“Babe - please, just tell me who and where the hell they are right now.” He demanded, anger rising. He didn’t bother to ask if you were okay as you clearly weren’t, he thought the quicker he learns about what happened, the faster he’ll get to catching these guys.

“I-I don’t know, I was walking -”

“Where??”

“The Mini-Mart-”

“You were walking to the Mini-Mart?!”

“I needed milk.” You said sheepishly, your voice started to crack.

“Why didn’t you just tell me!?”

“I didn’t want to bother you - you were working!” You shouted back, tears starting to form.

“And look what happened!!”

“Johnny please-” You started to cry, your hand covering your mouth.

His heart shattered. Realizing he was making everything worse he pulled you into his chest.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed your back. Having you cry into his chest made his eyes start to water.

***

Once the tears had settled, Johnny had led you to his bathroom where he helped clean you up. He had you lean on the counter as he dabbed the blood off your face with a washcloth. You sniffled, hiccups still lingering. You watched as he focused on rinsing the cloth. He bent down to you again, moving his hand to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss to your forehead. He looked you in the eyes as if to ask how you were doing. You nodded, unable to muster a sympathetic smile. He showed his instead and kissed you gently on the lips. He left to his room, returning with his Zebra shirt, your favorite. You accepted the offer and sat up as he removed himself from the bathroom.

You were folding your clothes, crossing over to his bedroom when you caught him by the front door, putting on his black leather jacket.

“Where are you going?” Concern in your voice.

He walked over to you, sympathy written over his face. He gently wrapped his calloused hand over your soft ones.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” The two of you knew what he was planning to do after you were calm enough to describe the men and everything that happened.

“Johnny-” You shook your head with worry.

“Babe-”

“No!” You squeezed his hand, tugging them towards you.

His face fell, watching your emotions untangle once more.

“Please Johnny-” You shook your head, voice breaking as tears started to fall. “Don’t leave me.” You hiccuped.

To hear the sincerity and fear in your voice was all it took to convince him to stay.

He looked down, partially ashamed. He nodded, looking back at you. He stepped forward and gently swiped his thumb over your cheek.

“I’m not gonna leave you.”

***

You were sound asleep in Johnny’s bed resting your head on his chest. He, on the other hand, was wide awake. He caressed your hair and continued to stare at the ceiling. He was trying not to grow too angry as he thought about what you had told him. The thought of someone violently harassing you and to learn it was two men, boiled his blood. He wanted so badly to slip out of the apartment, find the men responsible and kick their ass. But he couldn’t betray your trust, he told you he would stay, so he will.

Hope you enjoyed this part, stay tuned for part 2! 💕

[just-jordie-things]

Good Company - Richie Tozier

word count: 2843 warnings: swearing summary: (y/n) isn’t that big on parties, and when her only option is to hang out with the biggest flirt, she gets to know Richie Tozier a bit better. ___

Parties weren’t exactly (y/n’s) scene, but Beverly and Ben had really wanted to go to  Jason Alvarez’s house party tonight, so here she was anyways.

Well, beverly really wanted to go, and since she did, Ben tagged right along without question.  And the pair convinced (y/n) to come along.  They easily used the fact that she had no other plans tonight, and therefore had no choice.

Now she was wandering about a party full of the familiar faces of strangers from school, and dreading every minute spent here.  Bev and Ben had run off together not five minutes upon arriving, leaving her to… well, go fuck herself she supposed.

Not that she was surprised, they did this often.  Dragging her along to their dates, their romantic outings.  And even when they tried to dial down the boyfriend-girlfriend stuff, their attempts to include her always failed.

She had to give them credit for trying.  But she’d come to accept that she was the designated third wheel long before they’d started dating.

She found herself wandering outside, just to get away from the crowd of raving seventeen year olds.  And maybe a couple freshmen she thought she knew.

How’d they even get here? She thought, before deciding she really didn’t care.

She couldn’t just leave, because even though her friends had no problem ditching her, she didn’t want to abandon them.

Wow.  What a good fucking person you are.

When she finally pushed through the back door, there were still a few people outside.

A drunk girl on a rickety-looking rope swing, being pushed by her boyfriend, who thought it was hilarious to put as much force into his pushing as possible, in hopes that she’ll fly off.

Two guys terribly shotgunning a couple of beers.  Proof of previous attempts lying around their feet.

And another guy she recognized from her gym class junior year, high as shit, feeling up the tree that the swingset hung from.  He wasn’t kissing it, or being sexual or anything, just touching it, a lot.

And then there was the last stranger, who wasn’t really a stranger at all.

Richie Tozier sat in the grass, back to the side of the house while he watched with bemused eyes at the scene in front of him.  It was like a terrible comedy, and he was just waiting for something to go wrong.  There was a blunt between his fingers that he occasionally brought to his lips, and he hadn’t noticed the girl standing there staring at him yet.

She’d known Richie since grade school.  They weren’t exactly friends, but once in a while he’d approach her and start casually flirting with her, like he knew her.  It was cute the first couple of times, but he’d done it so often now that she’d grown annoyed by it quickly.  He only did it to get under her skin, his goal to make her blush or get her pissed off.  And she hated that game.

Even though he was a friend of Beverly and Ben’s, (y/n) did not run in the same crowd as him.  He was a trashmouth, a know-it-all, a punk.  And he had been since they were six.

But for some reason, a part of her was relieved to find him here.

So she made her way over to him and slid down the wall to sit next to him.

He turned to her, finally giving her the look she’d been waiting for.  Of course he’d seen her when she’d come outside, how could he have missed her? He was just waiting for her to suck it up and join him.

“Whatcha doin’ here, gorgeous?” He said with a low chuckle, before taking a drag of his cig.

She didn’t really want to spend the whole rest of her night talking to Richie Tozier of all people and getting hit on for laughs.  But she didn’t want to spend it alone, either.

“Waiting for my friends to stop frenching so I can go home,” She answered, and pulled her knees up to her chest.  “Why are you here by yourself?”

“Not by myself anymore” He answered, earning his first eyeroll of the night.

“You come to parties just to score a little pot and then sit by yourself?” She asked him.

“I come to parties hoping that my favorite pair of legs will come keep me company,” He retorted, giving her a wide smirk.

His eyes were a bit hooded, from the drowsiness the weed caused, but they were still the size of moons behind his coke-bottle lenses.

“And here you are, babes” He finished.

Cue eye roll number two.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” (y/n) mumbled, focusing on the shotgun guys, who were on their second round since she’d arrived in the yard.  “I’m only here to not be alone” She told him in a quieter voice.

“Well you’ve come to the right place,” Richie said with a bark of a laugh.

It was the loudest thing she’s ever heard, but no one else in the yard seemed to have noticed it at all.

“Wanna make bets with me on what’s gonna happen first?” He asked.  He took her glance towards him as a signal to explain himself.  “Either Jacob, the guy over there that’s tripping, is gonna get knocked down by Julie and Fred,” He pointed at the pair messing around on the swingset.  “Or, after Harry and Sean finish their dick-measuring excuse of a chugging contest are gonna barf all over each other”

There was a grin on his face, like the disgusting scene of teenagers in front of him actually entertained him.

“Jacob’s gonna get hit first,” She said.  “That guy is gonna push Julie too hard and she’s gonna fly off and knock him down,” She watched impatiently while the boy in question wrapped both arms around the trunk of the tree.  “What are we betting?”

“A date, of course” Richie answered without hesitation.

“Fuck off,” She muttered off handedly.  This routine was almost an instinct at this point.  “Ten bucks”

“Deal” Richie said, and extended his free hand to her.

She shook it, eyes still cast out towards the inevitable painful scene in front of them.

Richie’s hand was warm, in a comfortable sort of way.  She hadn’t realized that it was kind of chilly for a June night until he touched her.  Hastily she pulled her hand out of his before she could get used to the comfortable feeling.

Not five minutes later, Julie was launched off the swing, and toppled poor Jacob to the ground.

Richie pulled out his wallet, and handed (y/n) a ten dollar bill.

She chuckled as she stuffed it into her pocket.

“Pleasure doing business, trashmouth” She hummed.

“Humor me for a minute, (y/n/n)-”

“Don’t call me (y/n/n)-”

“Why don’t you just leave?” He talked over her, and she gave him a baffled look.  “If you’re so upset about being alone, anyways” He added.

(y/n) shrugged her shoulders, and then plucked the blunt from his fingers and took a drag.  He grinned at the action, like he was proud of her.

She inhaled as she pulled the cig away from her lips, and handed it back to him.

“I’m not upset about being alone,” She told him, and then exhaled the smoke.  “I’m just tired of it,”

The girl sighed, and relaxed a bit as she leaned back against the side of the house.

“Wouldn’t you hate it?” She murmured, rolling her head to the side to look at him.  “Always getting ditched because they like each other more than they like you”

When he turned to meet her eyes, he realized how close she’d sat next to him.  Their noses were a mere few inches apart.

“Yeah,” He agreed with a heavy breath.  “That’s why I don’t hang out with Ringwald and Benny Boy anymore,” He added in a fake chipper tone.  “Don’t wanna be somewhere where I’m not wanted”

“What are you talking about, you mess with me like, everyday” She snorted.

Richie’s brow furrowed, and he ended his hit early to blow out the smoke and shake his head.

“Mess with you?” He repeated.

“Yeah?” She sounded dumbfounded.  “The flirting?”

There were lines on his forehead as his brows crinkled further.

“Right,” He mumbled.  “But you’re the one that sat with me” He added with a small smirk.

She giggled, despite herself.

“Touche” She whispered back, and looked back out at the yard.

Jacob and Julie were making out now, which was an interesting development.  They were still on the ground, and were furiously sucking face.  It couldn’t have been enjoyable for either of them, but Julie was trashed, and Jacob would be tripping till next week.

“Poor Fred” (y/n) mumbled, watching Julie’s boyfriend yell a few angry words, before realizing it was no use.

The boy scoffed, stormed over to the pair, and tore his jacket off of Julie.  She was eager to take it off anyways, paying him no mind as she went back to making out with Jacob.  This only made (y/n’s) frown deepen.  He put the jacket on, zipping it up, and grabbing his beer and taking a long swig as he stomped his feet towards the house.

When he finished the can he haphazardly flung it outwards towards the house.  Paying no mind to his peers that were sat right in his line of fire.

(y/n) was quick to slide closer to Richie before it could hit her in the face.

“Jesus, asshole! Watch where you fucking litter!” Richie shouted.

(y/n) sat back in her previous spot before he could realize that she had clung to his side.

Fred whirled back around, storming over to the mouthy boy.

“What the fuck did you say, Tozier?”

It was clear that he was drunk.  He was swaying side to side, and he spit a little as he yelled at Richie.  He pointed an accusatory finger down at the boy, and even that was shaking.

(y/n) rolled her eyes.

“Fred, sober up and go home-”

Richie cut her off before she could deescalate the situation.

“I said watch where you fucking litter,” Richie repeated.  “I know it’s hard to hear over your girlfriend fucking Jacob Alexander over there, but maybe you could-”

“Okay okay okay,” (y/n) stood up as Fred lunged forward, as if to make a move.  Not that he was in any place to be starting a fight.  “Go,” She told him with a serious stare.  “You’re drunk off your ass, you’re just gonna get yourself hurt-”

“Yeah, you’re in no shape to be winning fights here, bud” Richie stood up, earning an even angrier glare from (y/n).

“Sit your ass down” She hissed at the curly haired trashmouth.

“Whatever,” Fred spit on the ground, rather close to (y/n’s) shoe.  “Stupid fucking party anyways.  I was just leaving”

He finally started to leave, and (y/n) sighed in relief that neither of the boys were dumb enough to throw a punch.

But Richie just had to run his mouth before the door could shut behind him.

“Pal if you fuck with my girl one more time I’m gonna have to bust your fucking teeth in”

(y/n) spun on her heel, giving him a very distressed look.  But Richie just flicked his blunt to the ground and glared threateningly at the significantly larger guy.

“That’s fucking it, Tozier!”

Fred roared as he slammed the door shut, and practically ran back to Richie, who was waiting with a provocative smirk.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” The drunk boy growled, and with surprising speed, grabbed Richie by the collar of his jacket, and reeled back his fist.

Before he could land the punch, or even strike for that matter, a different fist struck against Fred’s jaw.  A surprisingly impactful fist.

Richie’s jaw dropped as Fred released him, groaning in pain.  He clutched his face in his hand to relieve the pain.

“I said,” (y/n) winced as she shook out her hand.  “Sober up and get the fuck out of here”

Richie was laughing as Fred limped out of the backyard, and actually went in this time.  Leaving Richie and (y/n) alone.

“You idiot,” She grumbled to him, grabbing her sore hand and trying to massage the pain out of her knuckles.  “Why the hell would you fight him? The guy’s like ten feet tall.  He’s on the basketball team you know, he really would’ve killed you”

“Not when he’s that fuckin’ trashed he wouldn’t,” Richie chuckled, and stepped closer to her with an outstretched hand.  “Now come on, what are we dealin’ with here”

She hesitantly let him take her hand to inspect the already-bruising knuckles.

He poked and prodded, gauging when she would wince.

“You’re lucky you didn’t break your hand” He mumbled.

“I didn’t think his face would be so hard” She replied sheepishly.

Richie’s eyes flickered up from her hand to meet hers, an amused smile tugging on his lips.

“I can’t believe you fucking hit him” He said.

“You were going to!” She shrieked.  “Besides, I knew he wouldn’t have hit me back”

“I don’t know, he was pretty drunk.  He might have tried…” Richie said unsurely.  “You’re lucky he didn’t”

He didn’t catch it, but a blush blossomed across her cheeks as she bit back a smile.  Something about the comment was just so genuinely sweet that she was surprised it came from him.

“Whatcha got for me, Doc?” She hummed.  “Will I survive?”

“Yeah,” Richie sighed, letting go of her hand and sitting back down in the grass.  “You’ll live.  It’ll heal up in a couple days.  But you’ll probably have a nasty bruise,”

(y/n) looked back at her hand before sitting next to him.

“Maybe don’t go picking fights with guys bigger than you, yeah?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, and he only chuckled at her adorable glare.

She huffed as she leaned her head back on the wall, and shut her eyes.

“Your girl, huh?” She mumbled, peeking an eye over towards him.

“Don’t know what you mean” He muttered back, picking up the unlit and unfinished blunt from the ground.

“That is what you called me,” She reminded him, knowing full well he was just avoiding the topic.  “Well?”

He lazily turned his head to look at her, quirking a brow in her direction.

“Well,” He mocked.  “Why don’t you just chalk that up to me messing with you, alright?”

She frowned for a moment.  What had he meant by that?

And it dawned on her, as his eyes locked on hers and he made no move to look away.  Maybe he hadn’t been fucking with her head for the fun of t.  Maybe he’d… meant it? Did Trashmouth Tozier flirt with her because he actually liked her? No, there was no way-

She’d been silent for so long that she felt it would be weird to say anything now.  Much less ask him if he had some sort of crush on her.

“(y/n)? Are you out here?”

Beverly’s shrill, drunken voice called out, and both (y/n) and Richie looked over to see the redhead stumbling out the door.

“Yeah, Bev,” (y/n) called, and gave an anxious wave as her eyes landed on the two together.  “Are you ready to-”

“Well well well! Look at you two slummin’ together!” She spoke louder than she needed to.  “How cute-!”

“Where’s Ben, Beverly?” (y/n) asked before she could get embarrassed.

“He’s waiting out front, for us,” She slurred her words a bit.  “So are you ready or are you gonna stay here and suck face with-”

“I’ll be right out,” (y/n) sighed.  “Go wait with Ben, I’ll be there in a minute”

“Alrighty” Beverly sing-songed, and made her way back inside.

With a sigh, (y/n) looked back to Richie.

“Night’s over upon the queen’s command” She joked.

“I know the drill, get on out of here before you go crazy and fight more people” Richie chuckled, and nodded for her to head off.

Her lips curled into half a smile, and her eyes wandered his features for a moment.

And then she leaned forward and connected their lips.  It was a small kiss, but nonetheless sweet.  He wanted to reach out and wrap his arms around her, to hold her and kiss her properly.  But he was so shocked by the kiss in the first place, and just a little high, that he didn’t move fast enough to do it.

She pulled away, a cute little smile on her face.

“You’re a good guy, Richie,” She told him in a whisper.  “Thanks for keeping me company tonight”

He smiled back at her, and then she stood to go after Beverly.

“Let’s do it again sometime, then!” He called before she was out of sight.

She didn’t even look back at him as she hollered, “It’s a date, Tozier!”

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[dalamjisung]

nothing complicated ✾ jeon jungkook

word count: 5418

genre: fluff, neighbors!AU

pairing: reader x Jeon Jungkook

description: you just moved in and Jungkook really makes you feel welcome.

Moving is never easy. There is always too much to do in too little time; boxing, carrying, building, settling. Thankfully, you aren’t alone, and your best friend– now your flatmate– is there to help you. She works on organizing the kitchen as you focus on building the shelves; she changes the old lamps for new ones as you put your room together; she works on her room and you clean the bathroom– like this, you two finish the whole place in a week. It is only once you two sit down on your new couch to watch a movie that it hits you: you’re home. 

“What are you feeling like today?” Your friend asks. “The Greek place around the corner is doing delivery, if you’re into that… or we can order from that same Korean place? The one we had last week?”

You groan, frustrated with your own stupidity.

“Why didn’t we buy pans yet?” You ask, sighing. It’s been a week of delivery and you are not sure how much longer you can put up with this. “At this point, I don’t want to eat at all…”

“I know, babes,” She says. “But they arrive tomorrow, so choose something delicious today cause that’s the last delivery we’ll order for a while.”

“Hm,” You try to remember all the options. “How about that Italian place? The one a few blocks away? I think they deliver here.”

“Perfect,” She taps away on her phone, excited to make the order after another day of hard work in the apartment. Everything was spot clean now, and you feel as exhausted as she does, after having to deal with your landlord about the broken boiler. “I just want to sit outside and enjoy the cold afternoon weather as much as we can… God knows tomorrow might be radioactively hot again.”

Laughing, she orders the food and helps you bring everything to the terrace you two fought so hard to have; an outside space is a must, she said as the apartment hunting continued, arguing that her dog needed a place to feel more comfortable around the house, but you knew it was just an excuse to be able to have a cute hang out spot that is not the living room. You agreed, though, and now there you are– sitting on your wooden furniture with fairy light that don’t do much besides upping the electricity bill. You love it, though; the wind dries your recently washed hair and makes you shiver, and you smile. 

You’re home. 

Home is peaceful, you can’t help but notice. The first floor seems to be empty, as you haven’t heard a single thing ever since you moved in a week ago; and the floor above you is where two women live– they came over to introduce themselves and invite you and your friend for a bottle of wine. The house to your right, one which you can see their garden from the left end of your terrace, is where a family lives, their six-year-old daughter, Lucy, having already gotten acquainted with Koya, your house dog. 

“Wine or beer?” She shouts from the kitchen, and before you can answer, someone does it for you.

“Beer!”

Your eyes go wide, and your friend comes back running, beers in hand and mouth agape.  

“That was definitely not you,” She whispers, shocked. 

“Nope,” You chuckle, still confused. Clearing your throat, you call out a bit louder. “Hello?”

“Hello!”

“Who- Who is this?” You laugh, getting up and walking to the metal railing that offers protection on the edge of the terrace. 

“Your downstairs neighbor!” You look down, eyes on the wide outside space they have thanks to living on the ground floor, and a boy walks out of the house, next to the beaten down ping pong table they have out there. “Hi! My name is Taehyung!”

“Oh!” You look at your friend, asking with your eyes if she’s seeing the incredibly attractive boy too or are your dreaming? “Hello there! I’m Y/N, and this is my friend, Sora!”

“Hi!” She beams, a very recognizable flirting smile on her face. “Nice to meet you.”

“Very nice,” Taehyung winks and smirks. “When did you guys move?”

And just like that the afternoon wheezes by. At some point you recognize you are slightly tipsy, Sora is drunk, and Taehyung managed to get his hands on a six-pack in his kitchen. Never did you two cross the staircase to go downstairs, as much as he tried to get you two to make him company while his two flatmates are away; the distance in between your small terrace and his wide garden seems to offer you just the right amount of security to boost your confidence.

Just as Sora is laughing at yet another joke, you all hear the door slamming, and suddenly someone is loudly belting to Blackbear.

“Fuck you, and you, and you,” You snort, recognizing the song instantly. “I hate your friends and they hate me too!”

“Uh,” Taehyung laughs, a bit embarrassed. “Jungkook?”

“I’m through, I’m through, I’m through,” He continues, and you can’t help but laugh to your heart’s content. “This that hot girl bummer anthem, turn it up and throw a tantrum!”

“Ya, Jeon Jungkook!” Taehyung shouts, blushing intensely. “Watch your language, dude!”

“What?” The voice calls from inside. “I can’t hear you, hyung.”

“Watch your motherfucking language!” Taehyung shouts back, clearly frustrated. “You’re gonna make a bad impression with the new neighbors!”

“Oh, no,” You wave your hand, enjoying the show. “Please don’t stop on our account. We love a good show.”

“Neighbors?” Another voice asks, and soon you see another guy coming out. As soon as he spots you he is smiling, and you feel like you could melt with house sweet he looks. “Ah, hello girls!”

“This is Jimin,” Tae explains, rolling his eyes. “And the idiot that now is too embarrassed to come out is Jungkook.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Sora shouts so that Jungkook can hear too.

“Same here,” Jimin says, sitting down and opening a bottle. “So, where were we?”

The night ends with the four of you going to buy some more beer at the nearby convenience store. You don’t miss the curious eyes looking at you two through the window, though, shooting him a kind smile and hoping that one day you’ll be able to tell him you absolutely love Blackbear. 

                                                               ——————————

Almost a month passes before you get to finally meet Jungkook. You are on your way out to go to the gym you’ve been attending ever since moving– a boxing gym about thirty minutes away,– when you remember you forgot your keys. Going back would make you late for your training session, but there is nothing you can do and you start running back the same way you came from, until you spot him locking the door, and before you can back out, you poke his shoulder, breathing harsh and fast. 

“Excuse me,” You smile, trying your best not to startle him. “Jungkook, right?”

His eyes, still wide and so, so kind looking, focus on you and he just nods, slowly pulling his large headset down. “Yeah…”

“Oh thank god,” You mumble, and you are sure he heard you. “Stupid me forgot my keys inside and I’m already running late so could you maybe–“

“Oh!” He shouts, a little too suddenly, and you jump a bit. “Yeah, of course! Go ahead!”

He opens the door for you and you run up to your apartment, banging on the door with no avail; after a couple of minutes, you remember that Sora left for a date and wouldn’t be back for a while. You walk back down, defeated and accepting that you would be late and locked out. 

“Is everything alright?”

Your head snaps to your left, where Jungkook is leaning on the wall, waiting for you.

“Oh, yeah,” You smile. “My friend is not in, so I’m just going to have to wait when I come back…”

“Where are you going?” He squints his eyes at your tote bag, where the end of your boxing gloves are peeking out. 

“Uh… there is a boxing gym nearby I go a few times a week,” You scratch your head, suddenly embarrassed.

“The one next to the main road?” He asks, pointing to its general direction.

“You know the place?” You ask looking up at him, and that’s when you realize you two started walking together. 

“I’m going there right now,” He smiles and oh god, his smile. His teeth show and his cheeks puff in a way that reminds you of a bunny. “I train there too. I can just wait for you to be done and we come back together, this way you at least wait for your friend inside.”

“That’d be great, to be honest,” You smile, relieved. “Thank you so much, Jungkook.”

“No problem, Y/N,” He chuckles at your surprised face. “Jimin told me you guys’ names… I’m sorry, by the way, about that day.”

This was your chance. “No problem, I love Blackbear.”

His cheeks grow redder and redder, but the smile stays. “Well, I’m sorry anyways. I didn’t even go outside to say hi…”

“Ah,” You frown, pretending to be stern. “Yes, you should be very apologetic about that.”

He looks at you with a mix of suspicion and humor. “Oh, really?”

“Absolutely,” You nod. 

“How can I be forgiven?” He follows along. 

“Uhm…” You tap your finger on your finger, thinking. “Only one way.”

“Tell me,” He dramatizes. “I’d do anything.”

“Coffee,” You say, looking at him. Goddammit those eyes…

“Coffee?” He chuckles, and you shiver. 

“Coffee.”

“Alright then,” He shrugs, laughing to himself. “Coffee it is.”

The walk seems shorter today, Jungkook proving himself to be a much more enjoyable company then your usual iTunes playlist. He tells you the neighborhood gossip, joking about your landlord’s wife trying to steal Koya away since she’s obsessed with dogs. You learn that he is a Game Designer, working with your favorite company; he sings on his spare time, but you already knew that, always hearing him through your thin bathroom walls. And he apparently boxes, enjoying the strength that the physical activity gives him. 

“What about you?”

And now it’s your turn to tell him all about you; how you are pursuing your masters on Social and Cultural Psychology, a subject most people don’t pay the proper attention to, and how you’ve just started playing Zelda: Breath of the Wild, which is, coincidently, produced by his main competitor.

“I can’t believe this,” Jungkook groans once you compliment the game’s graphics. “This is treason!”

“I’m sorry,” You laugh. “But it’s so good!”

“Ours is better,” He says pointedly. “And I’ll prove it.”

“How?”

“You’ll see,” He says mysteriously, and you leave it at that, already arriving at the gym. 

Saying your temporary farewell, you walk into the ring, apologizing to your trainer profusely. The session is weird, today; your eyes focused on your trainer, but mind wandering to the lone boy at the punching bag. 

“Come on, Y/N, focus!” Your trainer shouts, and you are back at punching, and punching, and punching until. “Time!”

You collapse on the floor, body exhausted; however you still hear the adorable chuckle echoing in the empty gym. 

“Are you ready to go?” You turn your head to the side and see Jungkook smiling. “I can wait a bit more if you’re still finishing–“

“We’re done,” You decree, sending your trainer a pointed look. “I’m dead. You might have to carry my home.”

His nose crinkles with his wide smile. “No way, you are sweaty.”

“You’re not much better,” You deadpan. “Give me five seconds to get my jacket and we’ll go.”

“Y/N,” The trainer calls back. “I really can’t convince you?”

“No way,” You laugh, putting the jacket on even though your body feels like it’s melting. “Not my thing, Coach. But thanks for the consideration.”

“Huh?” Jungkook looks at you with inquiring eyes. 

“Can’t convince this girl to go competitive,” Coach laughs, shaking his head in disappointment. “She got here a month ago, but we all really think she has potential.”

You shake your head again. “Thank Coach, but no thanks.”

“Are you sure?” Jungkook asks, once you are walking back home. “It’s a huge opportunity!”

“Yeah, but it would also demand a lot of my time,” You shrug. “With getting my Masters and trying to find a job, I don’t think I’d have the time or energy to try and go pro.”

He nods, understanding. “I get that. Good thing you found time to just train and enjoy it, then.”

“Yeah, specially since now the company just got better,” You wink, making him blush.

You check your phone once you two are close to the building but there’s still no news from Sora. You groan, desperately wanting to shower. 

“Is she home?” Jungkook asks, already knowing the answer considering your frustrated reaction. 

“No… and I don’t think she’s coming home anytime soon,” You mumble, sighing. “I’ll just wait outside my door. The carpet seems comfortable.”

Jungkook scoffs. “No way, you’re waiting inside. You must be dying to shower… I can lend you some clothes and you can use my bathroom.”

“Oh, I don’t want to–“

“Come on, Y/N,” He jokingly elbows you. “I’m trying to be a good neighbor.”

“When you put it like that,” You roll your eyes. “I can’t say no, now, can I?”

“Never,” He opens the door and walks to his apartment. “After you, ma’am.”

It feels weird to not just walk up the stairs to your floor, but you also enjoy the excitement rushing through your veins; you’ve crossed the imaginary line of your terrace… would that be okay?

“Y/N!” Jimin shouts happily from the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Hey Jimin,” You wave and allow yourself to be pulled by your hood to Jungkook’s room. “Got locked out after the gym and Jung–“

“She’s showering in my bathroom, no one goes in there,” Jungkook basically growls at his flatmates. “I’ll come help with dinner while she does her thing.”

“We were thinking of ordering today, actually,” Tae says from his spot on the couch. “You like pepperoni pizza, Y/N?”

“Love it,” You smile. “I’m down.”

“Perfect,” Jungkook says, still pulling you. “Now go shower, you smell.”

You give him the finger. “You smell, too, you know?”

“I’m very much aware,” He laughs. “I’ll shower in Jimin hyung’s bathroom.”

He picks up a pair of sweatpants and a shirt, shoving them towards you and leaving the room. It’s only when the door closes that you allow yourself some time to look around, noticing how similar his room is to yours; blue bedsheets and pillows, a large, two screen computer with, and you’ve guessed this before, a classic gamer chair in the corner. Some trophies stand in a shelf and you smile at a younger picture of him, wearing a black taekwondo belt and holding a medal. Making some mental reminders, you go to the bathroom, basking under the warm water softening your tired muscles. 

You wash your hair and smile, noticing how everything smells like him. Shampoo, conditioner, clothes. It takes over your sense and you close your eyes, summoning the cute smile and kind eyes. Almost like magic, and just as you raised the color of his t-shirt away from your neck and to your nose, the door opens and Jungkook looks at you.

“Ready?” You nod, pretending nothing happened while wanting to bury yourself six feet under. “Pizza’s already here– didn’t want you taking too long and risking Taehyung hyung eating all of it.”

“He wouldn’t!” You gasp, following him to the living room.

“Oh he would,” Jungkook scoffs. “Actually, he did! Many times before.”

“But I’m special,” You joke. “He wouldn’t do that to me.”

“You are 100% right,” Tae catches on. “I will always wait for you, Y/N.”

Rolling his eyes, Jungkook sits next to his flatmate and pulls you down next to him, and you have to wonder what is up with this boy and pulling you places. He gives you a slice and digs in after you start eating, always eyeing the other boys to make sure they leave you at least another slice. You all have fun, but you start to grow anxious as Jimin goes to sleep, and Taehyung follows. It’s getting late and all that Sora sent you was a wink face, and from that you had many, many interpretations to follow. 

“Okay,” Jungkook sighs, getting up. “Are you ready?”

“W-what?” You look at him, furrowing your brows. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I asked if you are ready, Y/N?” 

“Uh, I think so? Sora is not coming home, I think, but if you want to go to sleep I can wait in the hallway and–“

“What? No, you’re sleeping over,” He waves his hand as if that had been already settled. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“What are you talking about then?”

He moves towards the TV, clicking some buttons and opening some drawers. He comes back with a pile of game boxes. “Chose one.”

“Are these–“

“Yes,” He says and there is determination in his voice. “Now choose one and let’s do this shit.”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

The night is not long enough for the two of you. Game after game, Jungkook keeps his promise– his games are better. The graphics, the storyline, the worlds; everything. 

“This one was the best,” You gush, dropping the control with a yawn. It’s now six in the morning and you two have not taken a break since you started. “It’s my new favorite, 100%. Where can I buy it, Kook?”

The nickname comes out naturally and you two smile at it; he leans forward, grabbing the disk from his console and puts it back in the box, giving it to you without hesitation.

“This is my game,” He smiles. “They are all from my company, but this is my game. I pitched it, and it was my first project of many. I’m glad you liked it, Y/N. You can have it.”

“Wha- No!” You push it away. “You need to keep it!”

“I can just get another copy from the office,” He shrugs. “Keep this one. You can play again anytime.”

“Thank, Kook,” You whisper, truly touched with his actions. “Really, thank you for everything.”

“Nah,” He chuckles. “It’s nothing.” “Don’t say that,” You frown. 

Does he know? Doesn’t it show?How much this means to me?

                                                              ——————————

Waking up is not as graceful as it was falling asleep. You are not sure when you two lay down in the couch, but you wake up barely able to breath and feeling way too hot to be normal. You look at the man laying behind you with his heavy arm and leg tossed over you and huff, trying to move away from him, but turns out Jungkook is a cuddler.

“Just roll away,” Taehyung says, walking straight to the kitchen. “He does that in his sleep, so it’s easier to just roll away.”

The loud thud is not enough to wake your friend and you are thankful, wishing he’d sleep as much as he can, considering it’s the weekend. 

“Good morning,” You say, trying to pretend nothing’s happened.

“Nu-uh,” Taehyung smiles cheekily. “Not how I roll. What’s happening there, huh?”

“Nothing,” You roll your eyes. “We spent the whole night playing games and fell asleep. You said it yourself, he does that in his sleep.”

“Yeah, he does,” Tae shrug. “But I saw the way you two clicked… Jungkook is a really shy kid, you know? He doesn’t open up easily, not like that.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to be nice,” You smile but it comes out forced. You really want to believe Taehyung’s words, but you literally met Jungkook less than 24 hours ago. “Have you heard Sora come back?”

“I’ll tell you if you give me her number,” Tae offers you his best boxy smile. “Your friend is… something else.”

“Believe me, I know,” You don’t even hesitate, pulling your phone out and texting him her contact. “She thinks you’re hot, by the way.”

“Wow,” His eyes are wide. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’m helping a friend out,” You roll your eyes. “You like her, she likes you; there’s nothing complicated there. Just know that if you hurt her, I’ll murder you in your sleep.” You finish off with a bright smile.

“Well, in that case, let me help you too,” Tae chuckles. “Kookie likes you. Thought you were beautiful the first time he saw you. And Sora got home hours ago.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

“He likes you, you like him,” He repeats, walking away. “Nothing complicated there.”

Mumbling to yourself, you go to your apartment only to be face to face with your flatmate. 

“Now, now,” Sora asks, pretending to not be wearing the same clothes as the day before. “Where were you, young lady?”

“I should be the one asking that question!” You shout. “I got locked out!”

“I told you I was going out,” Sora shrugs. “Now tell me why Taehyung has my number and what happened when you slept over there?”

“Nothing happened, and because he likes you,” You yawn, going straight to your room. 

“That’s not what he said,” She taunts. “He said something about a certain Jungkook liking you?”

“How would he know?” You ask her. “We just met! Yesterday!”

“That’s all it takes and you know it,” She says pointedly. “Or did you forget about he who shall not be named?”

“That’s different,” You frown, suddenly remembering your ex. “In the end, I didn’t know him at all. I don’t want to make the same mistake… you know why.”

“I do,” She sighs. “But not everyone is him. Jungkook is definitely not him… something about Jungkook is much more innocent.”

“I know, I know,” You yawn. “He’s great, but… it’s too soon. I need time. That’s what I came here for.”

“You’ll have as much time as you need,” She promises. “Even if I have to ward Taehyung and Jimin off your case.”

You nod because you trust her. Sora has always and will always be by your side, just like you will be by hers. After you broke-up with your ex, she was the only one that stayed by you, instead of criticizing you for being an inconsiderate asshole. You left him when he needed you the most, people said, but they didn’t even know half of it. He’d always need you, is what you concluded. He was just one of those people that demand too much emotional support that they don’t even know how to give it back; and if you  kept going– if you kept supporting him on your back like it was your duty,– you’d disappear. When you left, you barely knew who you were… and that’s when Sora came into action. She pushed you beyond your limitations and reminded you of everything– how you like spicy food, and how you actually hate the smell of roses, and she reminded you of how much, just how much you love playing video games; all things your ex fought so hard to have you forget. It was the small things, and right now, as you stand proud and happy, those are the things you hang onto the most. 

                                                              ——————————

It takes about a month to finally happen. The kiss, you mean. 

For the next 30 days or so, you and Jungkook proceed to deepen a connection that had been there since day one. It is over games that he tells you about his college experience– not terrible, but not great, he says. He was too shy. Over drinks, you tell him about your ex. Friend chicken late at night is for lighter subjects, like how he met the boys and his other hyungs or how Sora and Taehyung had been ‘sneaking’ around as if no one knows. Things with him are easy, light.

Nothing complicated, Taehyung’s voice echoes in your head just as you sit down in their couch. Tonight is movie night, a tradition established since Taehyung started going upstairs every Thursday to have sex with your flatmate, and since Jimin had work until late hours, Jungkook always invited you over. As per usual, he makes the snacks while you figure the movie out, choosing one of his favorites, as always. You like to see the surprised and excited smile in his face when the title flashes by. 

“What are we watching?” He asks, handing you the Pringles he keeps just for when you’re over. 

“Iron Man,” You say and there it is. The excitement. 

To say you are paying attention to the movie is a lie– all you can do is pretend to watch and laugh at appropriate parts ad your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss Jungkook? For a while you’ve been thinking about it; dreaming about it, even. You woke scared and horny the first time it happened, but after that it became routine. From then on, things that are supposed to be normal and common, like him pushing his hair back, or him boxing in the gym, start to… inspire you. 

“What?” He asks, breaking you from your day dream. 

“Oh,” You shake your head. “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie if I ever heard one,” He snorts, scooting closer to you. “Tell me. You were staring at me pretty intensely, I’m curious.”

“It’s nothing, Kook,” You laugh and you can feel yourself getting nervous by the minute. 

“Lie,” He mumbles, face getting closer and closer. “Are you sweating? Wow, what is it that you’re so nervous about? It’s just me.”

That’s just it, you think, smiling at him. It’s you.

“Jungkook, just leave it,” You push him back and get up. “I’m tired, so I’ll go ahead and go to sleep.”

“What?” His pout almost breaks you. “No, please! I’ll stop interrogating, stay!”

“I’m sleepy,” You whine. “I wanna lay down.”

“You can use my shoulder,” He whines too. “I don’t want to watch the movie alone. I’ve seen this a thousand times already, I wanted to watch you watching it.”

“Watch me?”

“Uh, yeah,” He realizes what he said and startles himself. “I… I just wanted to know if you’d like it.”

“Oh, I love Iron Man,” You explain, watching him get up and go to his room. “I’ve seen it before.”

“Okay.”

After that awkward conversation it’s as if you two are walking on eggshells. He doesn’t joke around as you two brush your teeth, or instantly hugs you when you lay down next to him. He just stares at you.

“Okay, this is weird,” You say, a bit too loudly. “What’s up with you? You’re staring.”

“It’s nothing,” He says, almost mocking you as he acts like you did before. “Leave it.”

“If you say so,” You mumble, ignoring his stiff posture and cuddling closer to him. “Night, Kook.”

And that’s when it happens, his lips on yours, very softly, brushing almost too lightly.

“Good night, Y/N.”

                                                              ——————————

Pretending nothing happened in the morning was impossible. You didn’t even want to, anyways, but Jungkook wouldn’t even allow the thought to brew in your mind. 

He kisses you good morning, waking you up. He has coffee, something he’s been doing for a while now, always buying you coffee whenever he’d think of you, and he also makes you breakfast, eyes trained on you as you stand still in the kitchen, the surprise too much to even move. When you finally get to go home, after many kisses goodbye, you slide down the door, shouting for your friend as soon as you regain a bit of your sanity. 

“He what?”

“Kissed me,” You repeat, not really believing it. “Again, and again, and again. Last night and this morning and right now, before I came up here. And he won’t stop. And I like it. I love it, actually. I don’t know what to do.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” She shouts. “Don’t stop! He obviously likes you! And you obviously like him!”

“Don’t shout!” You whisper, looking at her open window. “They can hear you.” “Y/N,” She sighs, summoning all of her patience to deal with you. “This is not complicated. You’re the one making it so.”

“I know, I know,” You grumble. You are frustrated and Sora knows. “It just feels too easy… like something might go wrong any time now!”

“Maybe you two should talk,” She suggests. “I’ll text Taehyung I’m going down there and for him to send Jungkook over.”

“Don’t you dare!” You shout, leaping for her phone, but she is too quick. 

“Done,” She winks. “You’ll thank me later, babes.”

You have a minute and nothing else before he knocks on your door– it is just enough to put your hair up in a way that didn’t make you look like a crazy woman. 

“You called?” He smiles, moving forward to kiss you, but you stop him.

“Yeah, I think we need to talk,” You say, chuckling in the most awkward way possible. Looking back up at him, you see his smile falter, doubt invading his eyes. “It’s not bad!”

“Doesn’t sound like it,” He is now uncomfortable and you want to punch yourself. You could’ve led it with another phrase… “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah!” You basically shout. “Everything’s a-okay. We just need to talk about it.”

“Why?” He pouts a bit, clearly confused and you can’t help it. You grab him by the cheeks and kiss him, deep and fast. “Wha–“

“Just so that this can keep happening,” You explain, voice airless. He nods and you guide him to your room, sitting him down on your bed while you pace from one side to the other. “Okay. Great. Alright, let’s talk. Let’s do this. We’re good.”

“Are you nervous?” He asks, and you know he’s not teasing. More so he is surprised. “Y/N? Why are you nervous?”

“I like you!” You blurt out, hands wailing around and a grimace on your face. “I actually like you a lot. And I know Taehyung said you like me too, but for some reason I just can’t believe him. But then you kissed me and I start to believe him, and for some reason, something that is supposed to be easy, is super complicated.”

“There’s nothing complicated here,” Jungkook smiles. It’s different this time round, though; his smile is wide and true, and although his cheeks are red with embarrassment and his eye glisten with hope, you can feel just how nervous is. “I like you, you like me. What’s so complicated about this?”

“I don’t know,” You groan. “It feels too easy, Kook! Nothing is ever this easy!”

“Well, everything has a first,” He jokes. “This is easy, Y/N. Let it be easy. Please. I can’t handle complicated.”

“Me neither,” You bite your nails, nervously waiting for something to go wrong. After a couple of minutes, you look back at him. He tries to hold his laughter in, but it comes out anyways. “So this is it?”

“Yeah, this is it,” Jungkook shrugs, opening his arms for you, and you know just what he wants.

“Just like this?”

He nods. “Just like this.”

“Are you–“

“Goddammit woman, just come here.”

The way he kisses you once you jump into his open arms is how you hope to be kissed everyday. He falls back with you on top of him but his arms hold you steady, bringing you closer but leaving enough space so you could swing your legs to both sides of him. This is passionate, you conclude, but the word sounds too robotic to truly describe it. 

Hunger, is more like it. Need. Want.

Want. There it is. This is pure want. Pure wish, and hope, and it is happening. And you meet him halfway, allowing him to feel the want and hope you have accumulated as well.

“Is Sora coming back anytime soon?” He whispers in your ear, mouth making a scorching trail down your throat.

“Doubt it,” You breath out, moaning in sequence as he bites a particularly sensitive spot. “She’s with Tae.”

His eyes shine in a way you’ve never seen before, but it makes you smile. He is right, in the end– this is nothing complicated. 

“Good.”

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

and here is our next member of BTS! What’d you think? Let me know! Like, share, comment, help a writer out :) it means the world when you do it ❤️ 

[mithranqueersmusings]

The Night Before XIII

Chapter: 13/15

Rating: T

Summary: Ringo hangs around after the club closes and meets a stranger.

Tags: Smut, Slow Burn

Pairing: George Harrison/Ringo Starr (Background McLennon)

AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here

"So... Do I want to know how you got into my building today?" Ringo asked, almost finished with his appetizer.

George chuckled, waiting to finish his mouthful before speaking "Would it be creepy if I said I sat waiting in my car until I saw someone going inside?"

"A little creepy, yeah." Ringo smiled.

"Well that's not what happened then." George took a sip of his second cocktail of the night "I'm glad you liked the flowers, though."

"I did." Ringo confirmed "You're the first person to ever get me any."

George craned his neck forward, his brows raising in surprise "Tell me you're joking."

Ringo couldn't stop the laugh escaping "I'm not. Is that so surprising?"

"Uh, yes!" George exclaimed "What kind of twats have you been dating?"

"Good question." Ringo scoffed "Never really been with a romantic type."

"Well that's too bad." George continued eating "I'll just have to make up for lost time then."

This was only one of many similar comments that George had made, Ringo couldn't deny that it made him feel extremely comforted at the thought of their potential future together. Not that he was being too optimistic of course, that would just be dangerous. But where was the harm in a little bit of hope?

"I forgot to tell you how good you look." Ringo spoke without thinking, the alcohol loosening his tongue.

"Oh yeah?" George narrowed his eyes a little "I pulled out all the stops tonight, suit and everything."

"I noticed." Ringo felt his face flushing "Every time I see you, you're always dressed so..."

"Gay?" George asked suddenly, making Ringo splutter.

"Not the word I was looking for, but sure." Ringo covered his mouth as he laughed.

"I'll be honest, one of the reasons I came up to you on that night was because you were dressed well." George finished the last bite then lay his cutlery down.

"Really? I thought I looked a right mess." Ringo chuckled "If we're being honest here, I couldn't even tell what you looked like."

"Weren't disappointed were you?" George asked, a sultry lilt rising in his words as he brushed his leg against Ringo's under the table.

"Course not." Ringo welcomed the contact, moving his own leg in response "Couldn't believe my luck."

George's face softened, it was an expression Ringo had never seen before, almost childlike.

Before the tension could grow any further, the waiter had returned to collect their plates and offer yet another round of drinks which George gladly ordered. Perhaps Ringo's goal of staying sober tonight was going to fail after all. It didn't take too long for the main course to arrive, Ringo was pleasantly surprised with the quality of the food.

"You know what I hate?" George asked, evidently enjoying his meal.

"What?" Ringo responded, he always seemed to be caught with his mouth full.

"Small talk." George answered "Isn't it just the worst? 'So what do you do for a living?' 'Do you have any siblings?' I really can't stand it."

"I couldn't agree more." Ringo paused for a moment "So what do you do for a living?"

George kicked him lightly under the table with a warm laugh. It was strange, every other date Ringo had been on he'd fooled himself in believing that he genuinely cared about the answers to those questions. But now, with George, none of those trivial things seemed to matter.

"Is there anything you do wanna know?" Ringo didn't want to drop the topic completely.

George pondered for few seconds then met Ringo's gaze determinedly "How badly do you wanna skip dessert and head back to mine so we can fuck?"

Ringo's eyes grew exponentially, looking around at the tables around them in fear that anyone heard. The display made George laugh, it seemed to be the end of his teasing until Ringo felt his foot slowly gliding up his thigh.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Ringo asked, desperately sipping his drink.

"Just you wait." George grinned, his tongue circling the sharp canine tooth.

"At this rate I'm not even going to make it to dessert." Ringo felt his breath deepening as George worked his foot up higher.

"You want me to stop?" George lowered his voice, he started running his finger around the rim of his glass.

Ringo felt entirely overwhelmed, clutching his cutlery so tightly as though it would expel some of the tension. He felt like everyone was watching them, there was no way it wasn't obvious what was going on between them, yet a quick glance around the room proved him wrong. Engaging in something sexual so publicly had never been one of Ringo's goals in life, but the way his skin felt like it was on fire suggested that maybe it should've been.

"I didn't say that, did I?" Ringo tried to calm himself, to lean in to the pleasurable feeling "I'm wondering how you got your shoe off without me noticing, though."

George tried to stop himself from laughing but failed, turning his face away and hunching his shoulders a little. Ringo felt only slightly disappointed when he felt George's foot moving away, though he knew they had the whole night ahead of them to fulfil those fantasies.

"Getting it off is the easy part." George shifted in his seat a little "Now I've gotta get it back on without anyone noticing."

"I don't wanna detract from the heat of the moment but were you serious about skipping dessert? Cause that might be a deal-breaker for me." Ringo finished off his cocktail, swearing to himself that he'd only have one more.

"Food over sex? What an interesting choice." George cocked an eyebrow "I can't deny that the desserts here are great, though. How about we share one or is that too sappy?"

"Sounds good to me, I don't think I've got enough room to have one to myself." Ringo let out a huff of air to demonstrate his fullness.

Soon enough their plates were being cleared away once more, only to be replaced with a warm brownie with a scoop of ice cream. Both George and Ringo had to hunch over slightly in order to reach the food at all, but the discomfort was worth it to share such an innocent moment together.

"You weren't lying, this is good." Ringo spoke with his mouth full, no longer caring for manners.

"Better than sex, though? Come on, you're crazy." George scoffed.

"I knew you weren't gonna drop that." Ringo chuckled "Sex is great and all but food is on another level. You can eat food whenever you want, sex has so much faff that goes along with it."

"That's part of the beauty of it." George gestured with his spoon as though it would make his point more convincing "You've probably had more shitty food in your life than you've had shitty sex."

"But I've also probably had more great food than great sex." Ringo retorted "Like this." He demonstrated his point by filling his mouth with the quickly disappearing dessert.

"You're insane." George laughed, sitting back in his seat to allow Ringo to finish off the remnants.

"Why do I even have to pick one?" Ringo asked as though it were a deep and meaningful discussion "Why can't I have both?"

"That could be arranged. I'm pretty sure I have some whipped cream in my fridge." George wiggled his eyebrows playfully.

Ringo chuckled "Jesus, you're really sex-obsessed, aren't you? And I thought John was bad."

"Only when I'm around you." George smirked "On that note, I think it's about time I got the bill."

It was impossible for Ringo to deny that he was itching to get some privacy, not that their marginally more innocent time together hadn't been immensely enjoyable. He found himself honing in on the minutest of details while watching George: the way the muscles of his hands flexed, how his voice would make the most mundane words sound appealing, even the way his eyelashes were grouped together in places, all of which excited Ringo in a way that felt new.

"You really don't have to pay." Ringo tried to insist as George pulled out his wallet.

"I know I don't." George smiled, leaving the notes on the table and standing up to leave.

Ringo walked out first, being seated closer to the door. Feeling George's presence close behind him was already spurring something inside him, he'd never been aroused by something so non-sexual before. The silence as they sat in the car was entirely different this time, far heavier and more imposing, Ringo felt like even breathing too loud would disrupt it. Ringo couldn't keep his eyes off the way George's hands gripped the steering wheel, his mind imagining an endless amount of ways he could preoccupy those fingers.

On a less erotic note, Ringo was intrigued to finally see what George's place looked like. Unsurprisingly he also lived in a block of flats, but the building was far more impressive than Ringo's own. George led the way to his front door rather hastily, evidently eager to get inside, dragging Ringo by the wrist somewhat forcefully. Ringo didn't fight against it for a moment, barely even registering his new surroundings when they stepped inside the flat. George wasted no time, pushing Ringo hard against the door and attacking his neck with tender kisses.

Moans were already pouring from Ringo's mouth, only deepening further when he felt George bite down onto the sensitive skin. The feeling was one thing, but the knowledge that he'd be left with marks was far more arousing. Ringo ran his hand down George's back, gripping into the flesh of his arse. His moans were soon silenced when their lips finally met, it was sloppy and desperate but Ringo didn't care. Their tongues met and Ringo could hardly keep his eyes open. George only upped the intensity further, pressing his leg into Ringo's groin to allow him to gain some friction; Ringo accepted it shamelessly, grinding down onto George's thigh as they continued the heated kiss.

Ringo felt like he had to do something or he was going to drown in this ever-growing bliss, so he slid his other hand to the top of George's thigh and lifted him up. George moaned desperately, leading Ringo to make a mental note that being manhandled seemed to turn him on. It was hard to figure out exactly where he was going, he didn't know the layout of the flat in the slightest and his vision was considerably impaired, but somehow they made their way over to the sofa in one piece. Purposefully Ringo threw George down onto the surface far rougher than necessary, evidently it had been the right thing to do because George had begun to whine.

Soon they were kissing again, items of clothing were haphazardly stripped off and tossed carelessly away. Ringo buried his hand into George's soft hair, pulling at it experimentally to expose George's neck which he quickly took ownership of, he wasn't about to be the only one left with markings. George had managed to get his trousers off, he was rock hard as he thrust upwards towards Ringo, desperate for any friction he could find.

"You really want it, don't you?" Ringo whispered in his ear, his tongue teasing the lobe.

"Yes, yes." George groaned "Been waiting all day for this."

Ringo palmed George through his boxers slowly, warranting a high-pitched moan. It was difficult to decide whether to draw it out or not, the image of George desperate and pleading was certainly an enticing one but Ringo was practically aching already. As Ringo dipped his fingers beneath the fabric of George's boxers, he called out.

"Wait, wait!" George's volume stopped Ringo in his tracks.

"What's wrong?" Ringo asked, the suggestive tone of his voice suddenly gone.

"Nothing's wrong, I just-" George was struggling to get his words out, his face was flushed with pleasure "I have another present for you."

"Oh... What is it?" Ringo felt relieved but he couldn't relax fully until he knew what this surprise entailed.

George shifted up the sofa, standing up with his erection looking ready to burst through the flimsy material "Wait here for five minutes, then come into my bedroom. Okay?"

Ringo paused, still in the same position "Five minutes?"

"At least." George stated somewhat firmly "It'll all make sense, trust me."

Ringo couldn't help feeling a little misled, he'd been geared up only to be told to stop entirely. He expected that whatever George had in store would be worth it, but this was about to be the longest five minutes of his life. To pass the time he looked around the room, admiring the vast amount of house plants that George had littered around, as well as the Monty Python film posters hung up around the television. Part of him wanted to burst into the room already, but he had to fight that desperate voice.

Watching the time pass on his phone was painful, minutes only seemed to last so long when he needed them pass quickly. As soon as seven minutes had passed, Ringo was hurrying over to the door. He'd already thrown off his shirt and trousers, feeling a little cold in his near-nakedness, but he figured it would save time.

"Can I come in?" Ringo asked before entering, but received no response.

He waited a few more moments, then decided to walk in all the same. It became clear immediately why George hadn't been able to respond, Ringo nearly fainted at the sight.

"Oh."

[mitchmarnier]

I want these words to make things right (but it's the wrongs that make the words come to life)

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier [reddie] rating: teen & up word count: 10,531 summary: Richie Tozier runs an anonymous tip for superheroes in the town of New York City. Sounds like a great idea, until you throw in the ex boyfriend superhero he's still in love with, and the weird blue eyed man who somehow figured out the man behind the blog ⤹ a NOT birthday fic for the lovely leigh (@s-s-georgie) 

perma taglist: @jwilliambyers, @stebbins, @isaacslaheys, @s-s-georgie, @transrich@eddiefuckinkaspbrak, @edstozler, @emgays, @anellope, @thorn-harvester-ven, @wheezyeds, @vipertooth, @tozierking, @billdenbrough, @starrystoziers, @trashmouthtozierr, @willelbyers​ @itfandomprompts, @loserslibrary (let me know if you want added!)

read on ao3

Spotted!: The one and only FlyBoy, rescuing not one, not two, but six students of New York University from a late night fire in the little coffee shop down on Old Broadway. Damages to the building were extensive- and it’s going to be closed for a very long, unknown future- but nobody was harmed thanks to our very own eye in the sky. FlyBoy, we salute you and I think we can speak for everybody when we say that we sleep better knowing you’re out there. 

Richie sent out the blast, still smiling at his phone. He’d barely even opened his eyes when he’d rolled over to grab his phone, which wasn’t anything abnormal. Richie ran one of the most popular blogs in New York City, completely anonymously. It had started out as his own interests, keeping taps on all the iconic heroes of their great and crime ridden city. It had quickly grown in regular viewers and subscribers, everybody realizing how coinvient it was to one location with all the information. More reliable information than the actual news, if Richie did say so himself.

“Really? FlyBoy again?” Richie’s roommate, Beverly Marsh, barged into Richie’s bedroom without knocking. “Don’t you think you’re getting a little too hung up on this guy? You’re running an update blog, not a FlyBoy fanblog.”

“FlyBoy is the guy to watch for.” Richie shrugged as he rolled out his bed, reaching out blindly for his glasses that he’d left on his bedside table. Beverly was standing at the edge of his bed with her hands on his hips. “Why are you looking at me like that, Mom?”

Beverly grabbed an NYU crewneck off the floor and threw it over his head. “FlyBoy isn’t the only superhero in the city, Richie! You’re falling off your brand and you’re going to lose your following. And in case you hadn’t noticed, your following pays most of our bills.” 

Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed his lucky jeans off the floor and slipped into them without changing his boxers, getting a little too much enjoyment out of Beverly’s cringe. “Would you chill out? I’m still just reporting the news, Bev. It’s not like anything else happened last night.”

“Dr Incredible stopped a bank robbing,” Beverly pointed out without even needing to look at her phone. “You didn’t say anything about that. Not to mention- Captain Fast literally saved an entire family from plunging off a bridge in their car last night. You know, Eddie Kaspbrak? Your best friend? The love of your life? I think maybe that would be a little newsworthy, don’t you?”

Richie scraped his black curls into a bun at the top of his head and started throwing textbooks into his backpack. “Beverly, I have had my eyes open for all of ten minutes, and seven of them have been you lecturing me on how to run a blog. I will post the rest of the events from last night and anything that happened this morning on the way to class that I need to go to. Because I have a life, so unless you wanna take over all the blog responsibilities… get off my dick.” 

Beverly scoffed as Richie pushed past her out the door to his room, shouting at him that there was brewed coffee on the counter even as they both knew that Richie was going to be stopping at Starbucks for something that was more sugar and syrup than actual caffeine. 

Richie went to the same Starbucks every morning before class, and every evening after classes let out. Stanley from his Psychology 101 worked there, and he never failed to give Richie shit about his nasty habits. He was a scrawny man, with tight curls. He was always well dressed under his work apron, light coloured button ups and pressed jeans. He always looked so put together and proper that Richie wanted to frazzle him and mess him up completely.

Stan’s customer service happy expression dropped into a look of disdain. “You’re back. Again.”

“Everyday, Stanny, you know me.” Richie leaned against the counter and winked at the unimpressed barista. Stan turned away from him, putting Richie’s regular order into the register. “Gotta get that caffeine fix.”

“I’d hardly call this caffeine by any means.” Stan let out a scoff as he finished ringing up the order. Richie handed Stanley the cash, and tried to chase the barista down the line in the process of making Richie’s entirely familiar order.

“You can’t lean over the counter like that.” Stan said in a low, bored tone. “You know, you’re lucky it's in my job description to be nice to you.” 

Richie chuckled, watching as Stan applied a double spray of whipped cream that Richie certainly hadn’t paid for. “If this is you being nice to me, I would hate to see you mean.”

“Yes, you would.” Stan placed Richie’s pale drink down onto the counter and slid a straw over to Richie without Richie needing to ask. Richie grinned, and took a long, overly dramatic sip before turning away. He nursed the drink throughout his short walk to his campus building, and tossed it- half finished- into the garbage before ducking into his lecture hall. He slid into his regular seat in the far left side of the hall, then frowned as somebody sat down on the other side of him. 

It was a cute enough guy, with soft brown hair that flopped into his face. His eyes were an icy blue and there was a scar running through one eyebrow. Richie felt goosebumps jump up on his forearms as the boy stared at him.

“You’re R-R-Richie T-Tozier, right?” Bill said, voice pleasant even in the low tone. It soothed Richie in an odd way, and he felt himself lowering his guard even as he wondered why he was doing it. 

“Yeah…” Richie said slowly, lifting his pen towards his mouth and biting down on the bottom end. “And you are?”

“My name is B-B-ill.” He said, before glancing over his shoulder. He bit down on his bottom lip and leaned in closer to Richie’s space. “You’re the runner of Spotted!, right? The superhero tracker blog?”

Richie blinked at him. His teeth threatened to break through the plastic of his pen. He cleared his throat awkwardly and looked forward at the professor, droning on about something Richie couldn’t care less about, especially with how his heart was pounding in his chest. “Sorry, man. I think you’ve got the wrong guy.” 

Even as Richie refused to let his gaze waver from the front of the room, he could feel how Bill’s eyes continued to burn into the side of his head. “Well.” Bill said, voice somehow seeming much closer to Richie’s ears than he felt it should be. “If you a-ar-are the m-man behind the sc-screen, I th-thought you sh-should know that Pr-Professor Fly will make an app-appearance tonight.”

Richie jerked his head to look at Bill, but the other guy was already standing and making his way through the lecture hall. He didn’t even turn around as Richie unabashedly stared at him. Professor Fly had once been the biggest, most known superhero on the NYC scene. Along with the flight powers that his name implied, he’d also been strong and fast. He’d had a plethora of powers, so many it was beyond abnormal. Nearly three years ago, Professor Fly had stepped onto the scene with a mentee- none other than FlyBoy- and only six months after that he’d completely dropped off the face of the Earth. FlyBoy continued to work in the city, and make a bigger and bigger name for himself, but Professor Fly had not been seen in over two full years. 

It was juicy information, no doubt. The kind that made Richie’s stomach tense up and his palms sweat. If Professor Fly was coming out of retirement, that could only mean somehow seriously Bad was on the scene. But Richie didn’t run a gossip blog, and he would never post something he didn’t have any proof on. Not even something as huge as a potential Professor Fly comeback.

Spotted! Just a little  recap of last night’s busy activities in the city that never sleeps: Dr Incredible bringing a bank robbery to a skidding halt, making sure all our favourite rich bitches and Wall Street moneybags have their millions safe for another day! Thanks, dude! And OF COURSE, the adorable and flawless Captain Fast saving an entire family from certain doom, and looking absolutely mouth watering in that spandex as always while doing it. Keep it up, babe. The public loves you :*

“RICHIE!”

Richie hardly reacted as the apartment door busted open and Eddie Kaspbrak stormed into the living room. His hair was damp, flattened to his forehead from the rain outside. The same rain that had left stains all over his grey NYU shirt and blue jeans. His fists were tightened at his sides, and he looked absolutely adorable.

“How can I be of service, dear Edward?” Richie asked, punching at the buttons of his xBox controller. Eddie stomped forward and grabbed it from his hands, tossing it across the room. “Hey! What the fuck?”

“You can’t fucking flirt with me on your stupid blog!” Eddie cried, running his hands through his hair. “Okay? People are gonna… they could figure out who you are if you keep doing that!”

Richie sat up straight on the couch. “Okay, do you know how little sense that makes, right? I make flirtatious comments about every hero I post about. Except Dr Incredible, I think guys a fucking sham.” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie carried on over him. “And even if I did flirt with you more than the other heroes, they’d still need to know who you are to connect the dots to me. So take a breath. If you don’t want people commenting on your spandex, don’t wear it.”

“This isn’t about spandex.” Eddie said, though Richie could see that the anger he’d been wrapped up in when he’d come into the apartment was quickly seeping out of him. “This is about you. I don’t want you in danger, Richie.”

“You’ve made that beyond clear, Eds.” Richie stood and stretched his hands above his head. “It’s pretty much all I’ve heard from you.”

“Rich…” Eddie said sadly, but if there had been anything further to that sentence it evaporated right from Eddie’s mouth. 

Eddie and Richie were diaper buddies, a real sandbox love. Richie couldn’t remember a point in his life without Eddie in it. They’d grown up inseparable, and Richie still remembered vividly when they’re relationship had begun to grow into something more. Junior year of high school, when Richie finally, finally found the nerve to ask Eddie out on an official date. And the next couple weeks after that were bliss in a way that Richie had never known. Until suddenly, Eddie had started blowing him off. Cancelling dates, and dodging Richie’s calls. When Richie had moved to confront Eddie about his behaviour, to beg him to at least end it and not keep him hanging on, Richie had learned the truth of Eddie’s powers. Apparently, it ran in his family and his mother had tried her hardest to keep it from Eddie, in desperate hopes that Eddie would be different but the powers can come nonetheless. Some smaller ones- a heightened sense of touch, and an acute sense of knowledge of a person or object by touch which Richie lovingly called his Vibe Checks- and of course, his speed. Eddie had always been a fast runner, ever since they were kids, and he had been shaping up to be a big track star before the Powers had appeared to him. Afterwards, however, Eddie could run the length of the entirety of the country in mere seconds. 

They’d stayed up together that whole night, talking and crying and kissing, and they’d felt so good about everything. Richie thought having a superhero boyfriend was maybe the coolest thing that could ever happen to anybody, even if he wasn’t allowed to tell another living being. While still living in Derry, things hadn’t been so different with Eddie having powers. Things really changed when they moved out to New York City. Richie had always known Eddie was a good person, the best person, but he’d never accounted for how Eddie’s powers would come into play when they were suddenly in a city with other Supers and a sky high crime rate. 

They’d tried to make it work, Richie beyond supportive in Eddie’s crime fighting causes. (Hello, superhero boyfriend? Still the coolest shit ever!) but one misstep, one single incident where Richie’s safety had been put on the line, and Eddie had stopped them in their tracks. It hadn’t even been because of Eddie’s identity, Richie had been in a strictly wrong place wrong time sort of situation but Eddie had lost it. Claimed that their relationship was a liability for Eddie, that Richie was Eddie’s biggest weakness and that Eddie couldn’t risk Richie’s safety like that. Richie had argued tooth and nail, claiming that breaking up didn’t mean that they weren’t in love and that Eddie shouldn’t be giving up his personal life for these powers but it had fallen on deaf ears. Eddie had packed up his belongings and left their shared apartment. They’d tried to stay friends, but the love between them kept things strained. 

Richie padded into the kitchen and grabbed a can of pop from the fridge. He offered one up to Eddie, who shook his head as Richie knew that he would. He hopped up onto one of the seats on the counter and stared Eddie down. Eddie leaned forward on his elbows. 

“We can’t keep having this same argument, Richie.” Eddie said in his prim and rehearsed voice. “It’s not because I don’t love you-”

Richie squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head quickly. “God, you just said we can’t keep this argument. I don’t need to hear this fucking speech again. You gave it to me when we broke up, you gave it to me six months ago on my birthday after we got drunk and-” Richie broke off and exhaled hard. “I’m sorry I talked about your spandex on my blog, I’ll try to tone down the flirting when I talk about you.”

“No.” Eddie sighed, resting his chin in his hands. “I overreacted. You didn’t say anything you wouldn’t have said about anybody else on there. And you’re right, people would need to know who I am to connect you to me. And nobody knows who either of us are.”

Richie blew out a long breath, flicking his thumb against the tab of his pop can. “Actually, Eds… somebody might know who I am. So, yeah, I should be more careful when talking about you on there. You’re the one who was right as usual.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open and he pushed away from the table to round on Richie. He grabbed him by his shoulders and forced Richie to meet his gaze. “Richie. What are you talking about.”

“I’m not really sure, honestly, it was weird.” Richie ducked out of Eddie’s touch, frowning as the memory of his class that morning washed back over him. “It was some.. Guy in my theory of screenwriting lecture? He just sat down beside me and he addressed me by name and then asked if I was the one who wrote Spotted!. I told him I wasn’t, because you and Bev are both always on my ass about keeping it a secret, and then he told me…”

Richie stopped and looked up at Eddie. Eddie stared back at him, holding Richie’s eye line longer than he had in the two years since they’d called an end to their romantic relationship. “What, Rich? What did he say?”

“He said that Professor Fly would be making an appearance tonight.”

Eddie’s expression remained blank for several moments before the usual chaotic energy took him back over. “Why would he say that? How does he know that? How does he know you? There’s no way that’s true, nobody has heard anything from Professor Fly for almost three years. Not even FlyBoy knows where he is, he’s retired. There’s nothing he’d come back for, not unless it was the end of the world big. Is this the end of the world big? Richie?”

“I don’t know, Eds. He didn’t give me an itinerary for the night's events.” Richie said. “I think he just wanted me to post it on my blog like I’m some sort of gossip column. It’s not a big deal.” But Eddie didn’t look convinced and Richie could practically hear the little hamster wheel in his head running. “Unless you know something that’s going to happen tonight?”

“No.” Eddie said immediately, shaking his head. “I haven’t heard anything besides minor crimes and car accidents the last couple weeks. It’s been… almost too calm. I don’t like the sound of this guy, Richie, and I definitely don’t like what he’s suggesting. I’m gonna- I’m gonna talk to some people. Don’t leave this apartment and don’t post on Spotted! until I get back.” 

“You’re not my boss!” Richie cried as Eddie tore out of his apartment like a tornado. 

Eddie returned quickly, as Eddie was prone to do. He stumbled into the apartment as dusk began to settle outside, a tray of coffees in his hands. “Okay, we only have a few hours to figure this out.” 

Beverly had been just getting into the apartment when Eddie had come in and nearly crushed her behind the door. She frowned as Eddie handed her one of the steaming paper cups and somebody came into the apartment behind him.

“Stan from Starbucks?” Richie asked with a frown, watching as Stan and another tall, black man he didn’t recognize came into his apartment. “Eds, I get you wanted coffee or whatever but you don’t need to bring the store back with you.”

Stan placed the only non-hot beverage down onto the counter. “I’m going to tell you something, and you need to promise not to be weird about it.” Richie stared at Stan with his drink raised half way up to his lips, and Stan let out a low sigh. “I’m FlyBoy.”

Richie whipped around to glare at Eddie, pointing an accusing finger at his chest. “FlyBoy has been Stan from Starbucks this entire fucking time, and you didn’t think to tell me that?”

“It isn’t exactly my secret to tell anybody.” Eddie said with a chill to his voice. “And honestly, even if I could have told you, I wouldn’t have. You have a weird crush on him and the last thing we need is you running off and getting some high stress relationship with a superhero.”

A superhero who isn’t me. Eddie maybe didn’t say it, maybe wasn’t even aware that he’d implied the words at all, but Richie heard them perfectly clear. Richie scoffed, dropping his drink onto the counter and stepping away from the group just slightly. “You don’t really get any say in who I do or don’t like, Eddie. It’s actually none of your business at all.”

“It is if it’s something that’s going to put you in danger, Richie!” Eddie snapped back, hand cutting through the air. A manic gesture of Eddie’s that Richie usually found cute, but could only manage to find irritating in this moment. “You put yourself in harms way enough with this stupid blog and just even knowing me, I would never let you-”

“Let me? Let me?” Richie chuckled humorlessly. “You are not the boss of me, Eddie. You’re not my parents, you’re my boyfriend. So, thank you very much for all the over the top concern about whether or not I’m getting myself into trouble but I’m going to have to politely tell you to mind your fucking business for once in your life.”

Eddie gaped at him, almost forming words before losing them again. The black man who had come into the apartment with Eddie and Stan cleared his throat. “I’m sorry but this seems like a pretty serious personal issue, and we have something important we need to handle, so...”

“Yes.” Eddie said, voice cracking. Richie glanced at him and tried not to let the hint of tears that were pooling in Eddie’s eyes. “Richie, this is Mike Hanlon. You probably know him as-”

“Freezie.” Mike held his hand out and Richie only hesitated for a moment before Mike laughed. “Don’t worry, man. I have to actually want to turn you into ice for it to happen. Though I do have some horror stories when I first started developing my powers, I’m not gonna lie.” 

“Mr Medusa.” Richie said with a grin, gripping Mike’s hand firmly and giving a body moving shake.  Mike gave a laugh while both Stan and Eddie rolled his eyes at his antics. 

“You know how misleading that nickname is, right?” Stan asked dryly. “Mike turns people to ice with his hands, Medusa turned people to stone by looking at them and her head full of snakes. It’s really not even that close of a comparison, it just implies you don’t know anything about Greeky mythology.”

“Excuse me, I’m a gay Gen Z. Of course I fucking know Greek mythology. I read Percy Jackson.” Richie said with a wave of his hand. Stan gaped at him for a moment before Eddie blew the wrapper from Richie’s straw at Richie’s head. 

“He’s also a fucking Ancient Civilization minor.” Eddie said in a mixture of fondness and irritation. “Don’t let him fool you with his stupidity, he’s actually incredibly smart.” 

“Okay, yeah, this is great.” Beverly spoke up suddenly, dropping her shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. “But do you guys wanna tell me what the hell is going on exactly?”

“Yes, I’d like to know, too.” Stan said, taking a seat at the small, banged up wooden table. “Eddie didn’t exactly give much details as he was superhero sprinting around the Starbucks and making like $30 worth of product he didn't pay for.” 

Eddie waved Stan off. “We might be in for a long night.” He said, dropping into the seat beside Stan. Mike and Beverly both moved to take the last two seats around the table and Richie jumped up to sit on top of the table between Eddie and Stan. He maybe positioned himself a little bit closer to Stan, just to watch Eddie’s jaw clench.

“Richie, why don’t you tell everybody what you told me earlier.” Eddie said in his very best teacher voice. 

Richie sighed. “I still think you’re making too big a deal out of this, Eds, really. But basically some guy came up to me in class today, and accused me of running the Spotted! Blog and then told me that  Professor Fly is going to come back tonight.” 

Stan’s head jerked to look at Richie, eyes wide. “That’s impossible. Who told you this?”

Richie shrugged. “I don’t man, some weirdo. Think he said his name was Bill?”

Beverly startled at her seat, knocking one of the coffees to the ground. Everybody turned to look at her and her face had lost nearly all colour. “Uh… did he have a scar running through his eyebrow?” 

“Yeah… how do you know that?” 

Beverly scratched at the side of her neck. “I went on a few dates with him last semester, he's a weird dude. I wouldn’t read too much into this, I’m sure he’s just trying to stir up drama. His brother died when he was young, and he never really got over it.”

A shoulder crossed over Stan’s face and he sighed sadly. “Georgie Denbrough. That was…. A tragedy.” 

Mike and Eddie made matching sympathetic sounds and Richie pulse jumped. “Okay, you all clearly know what the fuck is going on, from your super secret like Justice League meetings or something, but anybody want to catch me up? Who is Georgie Denbrough and what happened to him?”

“Georgie Denbrough was Professor Fly’s biggest shame. His failure as a hero.” Stan said, voice almost completely monotone. “It was just before he started training me to take over for him, I’ve always suspected it was the reason why he was choosing to retire. The Professor was trying to save a group of children from a predator and somehow the battle got really intense. The predator had powers that The Professor hadn’t anticipated, and The Professor’s powers back fired when he tried to catch the man. It caused the building to explode. Most of the children were okay, scrapes and bruises, maybe a broken bone or so, but Georgie Denbrough… He lost an arm in the explosion and he bled out before help could arrive. The boy died and the villain got away. He never really recovered from it.”

“Neither did Bill Denbrough,” Beverly jumped in. “When we were going out, it was pretty much all he talked about. How Professor Fly killed his little brother and ruined Bill’s life. He hates superheroes because of it. He probably doesn't know shit, but at least suspects that Richie knows some heroes and will tell them what he said. It’s a set up.”

Stan nodded. “There’s no way The Professor is going to be out tonight. Nothing would pull him out of retirement, trust me.”

Eddie rubbed his hands together. “Maybe.” He said shortly. “But we don’t know that it’s a trap for us. It’s possible this Bill guy has something planned tonight to try and bring Professor Fly out. We can’t risk people getting hurt because we don’t know what this guy's plan is. I think we should have all hands on deck tonight if we can.”

“Eddie’s right.” Mike said. “Even if it is a trap for us, we agreed to this sort of risk when we started acting as heroes. We knew what we were getting into, we can’t just sit around and do nothing when lives are at risk. Best case scenario, this Bill guy is full of shit and just running his mouth and nothing happens but we need to prepare for the worst.”

“I can’t imagine him going so far out of his way to figure out who’s running that blog just for it to be nothing.” Stan said quietly. 

“Maybe that’s part of the plan,” Richie jumped in. “He wanted me to post about Professor Fly’s return, probably to lure out people and heroes to whatever it was he was going to do. Maybe if I don’t post it then he’ll just drop the whole thing because he’s not getting the audience that he wants.”

“You should post it.” Beverly said suddenly, using some of the shitty dollar store dish cloths to wipe up the spilled coffee all over the floor. A large round of disagreement spread out amongst the heroes until Bev held her hand up for quiet. “I might not know much about this whole superhero world, or whatever, but how are you supposed to catch this guy if he doesn’t go through with his plan? You can’t exactly go after somebody for figuring out that Richie is caught up with superheroes.”

Eddie muttered something under his breath that sounded a lot like “I can fucking try” but none of the heroes had any sort of argument against Beverly’s claims. 

“Spotted! Isn't a gossip column!” Richie cried, tossing his hands in the air, nearly taking Stan’s eye out. “I’m not posting some unfounded bullshit about Professor Fly and killing my brand for this Bill dude’s fucking vandetta.”

“Your blog’s brand is more important to you than saving lives?” Mike asked, giving Richie big, sad puppy eyes.

“We don’t know it’ll save lives!” Richie argued. “For all we know, sending out a blast could be what gets people killed. If you think we should all go out and keep on eye on stuff, then fine but-”

“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie cut him off quickly. “What do you mean we? You’re not coming with us if we go out there, Richie. You and Bev aren’t leaving this apartment tonight, you could be a target!”

“YOU’RE NOT MY BOSS!” Richie leapt off the table and stalked away from Eddie, hands trembling at his sides. “I’m so sick of you telling me what I can and can’t do! You can’t control me, Eddie.”

Eddie’s head jerked back as though it had been slapped, and a wounded look crossed his face that Richie wouldn’t let himself feel bad about. “I’m not trying to control you, Richard. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Oh, really?” Richie laughed. “So, you making a point not to tell me you knew who FlyBoy was when you were under the impression I might have a crush on him wasn’t you keeping me safe, and not at all you not wanting me to date somebody that isn’t you.”

Eddie stood up and walked around to where Richie was standing angrily behind the counter. He didn’t touch him but his hands hovered just above Richie’s arms. “I didn’t tell you who FlyBoy was because it's a secret identity for a reason. It’s not like it was really my place to SAY anything to you about it, alright? You can date whoever the fuck you want, obviously, because I didn’t stop you from going on those dates with Connor Whathisfuck last year and I hated that guy so much it actually burned my soul. I want you to be happy, okay? I’d never stop you from dating somebody. Stan is right there if you wanna go ask him out right now, you pleeb.” 

Richie glanced over Eddie’s shoulders at where the people around the table were all staring at them. Stan wrinkled up his nose. “Please don’t.”

Richie rolled his eyes and snorted. “Don’t worry, Stan my Man. If I’d known FlyBoy was somebody as boring as you, I wouldn’t have dedicated so much time to him in the first place.” 

Richie tried to ignore Eddie’s relieved sigh in his ear. 

Eddie didn’t budge on his statement that Richie and Beverly would be staying behind at their apartment, as Richie didn’t budge his refusal to post false information on this blog. “If you want me to make some sort of announcement, it has to be something true. That’s just how it is.”

“You could post about seeing the three of us teaming up.” Mike suggested as Richie was really just focusing on not looking at his bare chest as he changed into his suit. “That will be enough to get the public's attention and let this Bill Denbrough know we’re taking him seriously without having to leak false information about Professor Fly.”

Richie nodded in agreement as Eddie padded over him to his little tight red spandex supersuit. Richie’s breath caught as it always did when he saw Eddie as Captain Fast. “Don’t say anything until you’re sure we’re a decent way away from the apartment. Just because somebody figured out that you run the blog doesn’t mean that we should be leading towards the place you live. Play it safe, Rich.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Richie waved it off, but they both knew at the end of the day even as much as Richie fought it, he was going to follow Eddie’s advice. As the group moved towards the front door, Eddie suddenly spun around and grabbed hold of Richie’s waist. He tugged him into a tight hug, pressing his face against Richie’s shoulder.

“Please, please, be careful, Rich.” Eddie whispered into Richie’s body. “I have a really bad feeling.”

“Yeah, Eds. I’ll be careful.” Richie squeezed Eddie tightly until the other man pulled back. There was a split second where Richie was certain that Eddie was about to lean in for a kiss. The moment broke as Eddie’s cheeks turned pink and he looked away. He pulled the matching red mask over his eyes and followed the rest of Mike and Stan from the apartment. 

Richie wallowed in his poor, confused little gay heart for roughly ten minutes before he took out his phone and sent out the blast. 

Spotted! What must be the coolest new trio in NYC: FlyBoy, Captain Fast and Freezie heading out on the town. Is this just a  (super)mans night out- or is something much more sinister in the works for not so little city? I think we can all only wait and see. This blogger advises his readers to stay home tonight, and keep an eye on the news and little old me for your updates.

Richie didn’t even have a chance to put his phone back into his pocket before Beverly was stomping into the room and tossing a black hoodie over his head. He pulled it away and caught sight of Beverly with her red hair tied up in a long red, curly ponytail. She wore black jeans and black tank top that showed off a black triangle tattoo on her left arm. She raised her brow and nodded at him. “Hurry up, get into something dark and let’s go.”

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Richie said slowly. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” Beverly said. “Now hurry up and let's go. We have stuff we have to do.”

“I told Eddie I was gonna stay in the apartment.” Richie said, fidgeting with the fabric of the hoodie in his hands. “I think we-”

“I thought Eddie wasn’t the boss of you.” Beverly said, cocking her brow. Richie’s face burned as he tugged the plain back sweater over his head and put his feet back into messy converse sneakers. Beverly was already halfway down the hallway before Richie was even out of the apartment’s door. When they exited the stairway into the lobby, there was a man waiting there in matching all black outfit with the same triangle tattoo on his left arm. He had thick muscled arms, but chubby cheeks and wide eyes that seemed to still hold onto some sort of childhood innocence. 

Beverly pressed a quick kiss to his lips and Richie blinked. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend. The words died on Richie’s tongue as a weird feeling overcame him in that moment. “Richie, this is Ben. Ben, Richie.”

Ben held his hand out and Ben’s shake was warm and firm. Somehow Richie felt like his skin was crawling as Beverly pressed her hands between Richie’s shoulder blades and began to push him out towards the front of the building. 

“I uh” Richie cleared his throat, heart hammering in his chest. “Where are we going? Eddie’s probably right that we should stay inside, we don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“Don’t be such a chicken shit.” Beverly grinned at him, and Richie shivered as a chill rushed through his spine. “Aren’t you at all curious about what might be going on? Come on, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re actually a target for anything. Denbrough was probably just trying to use you for your site.”

Immediately, Richie had been curious- almost morbidly so. Until this very moment when all he wanted to do was run back to his apartment and spend the rest of the night hiding under his blankets. But Richie Tozier had never been very good at trusting himself or any of his instincts, and he allowed Beverly and Ben to guide him into the black car parked out front. 

Then didn’t drive far, and pulled up to some sort of abandoned warehouse. Every couple of seconds there was a flash of light from inside the cracked and shattered glass windows. Richie’s breath started catching in his throat with every attempt to breathe. “What- where are we?”

Beverly turned to where Richie was trying to fade into the back seat of the car, and looked almost sad. “I’m sorry, Rich. It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” 

xxx

Eddie actually hated wearing spandex, but it was an incredibly durable fabric. With the amount of moving he did, it was the most logical choice in costume. But Eddie was never truly comfortable when in costume.

“If I ask you something, could you answer without getting bitchy?” Stan suddenly whispered in his ear. He, Mike and Eddie had only reached the main core of the Lower West Side. Eddie turned to him and narrowed his eyes as best as he could home to do with a mask covering half his face. “Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?” 

Eddie’s face burned nearly the colour of the suit. He spent the better part of the last two years trying not to think about how he was in love with Richie Tozier and in the last three years, it was the only thing at the front of his mind. “I try not to think about it, honestly, because it’s not an option. I didn’t choose to have these powers, or this life. But as long as I have them, I have to do the right thing. I don’t have a choice.”

“I don’t know.” Stan said slowly. “I think you should be able to do what’s best for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“I’m happy enough.” Eddie lied. “Do you think we should split up and cover more ground?”

“Yeah.” Mike jumped in as the conversation changed back into the professional task at hand. “Especially since we don’t really know what the situation is, so keep your ear pieces in and buzz into the others if you come across anything.” 

“Alright,” Stan agreed, though he shot Eddie a this isn’t over look from the corner of his eye. “Eddie and I have a much easier way to travel, so Mike you can stay in this area.” Stan and Eddie agreed on their own sections of the general NYU area- the area that had always been protected by Professor Fly in the height of his career- and Eddie took off running. Eddie had always loved running, and it was the only part of being a hero that he still enjoyed. Sometimes, on nights when Eddie just couldn’t be bothered to care, he’d just run for miles. Just see how far he could go. He’d reached the Canadian border once before he decided it was a waste of his gift. 

Eddie slowed down into a simple walk once he reached his section of town, when somebody reached out and grabbed hold of Eddie’s arm. Eddie gasped at the feeling of utter desperation that sort through him belonging to the person who touched him. A pair of icy blue eyes under a scarred eyebrow met Eddie’s and Eddie’s heart leapt right into his mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Bill Denbrough demanded. “You’re not supposed to be here! Didn’t Richie tell you about my warning?”

“Your- your warning?” Eddie squawked. “So, you tracking him down and telling him some bogus tip about Professor Fly was supposed to be a warning? A warning of what- that you’re insane?” 

Denbrough shook his head, brown hair falling into his head. “No. No.” He said desperately, nails digging into Eddie’s skin. “Professor Fly would never return, FlyBoy would know that. Didn’t you tell FlyBoy? It’s a trap, you were all supposed to stay home! You’re all in danger!” 

Eddie tried to pull his arm free but Denbrough’s grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me!” Eddie cried, chest starting to feel the too familiar pressure of an asthma attack- though he hadn’t one a single one since his powers had come in. 

“I k-k-know you have more powers than just sp-speed.” Denbrough said, stepping even further into Eddie’s space and grabbing hold of his other arm. “You can s-s-sense me, r-right? You’ll no-no-know if I’m d-dan-dangerous!” 

Eddie felt a lot of things about Bill Denbrough. Guilt, fear, desperation. There was something bleak and sad under the surface but there was no hint of a threat to him. “What do you want?” Eddie asked in a shaking voice.

Bill Denbrough’s eyes darted around Eddie. “Where’s R-R-Richie? Is he w-w-ith you? Where is h-he?”

“He’s safe.” Eddie promised even as his own heart stuttered and panicked. “He’s back at his apartment with his roommate, they’re both-”

Bill’s eyes widened in horror. “NO! No, you can’t t-t-t-t-fuck- trust Beverly! She’s n-n-not who you think she is!” 

Eddie started shaking his head. “No offence, but I’ve known Beverly for a year and I’ve only known you five minutes and you seem pretty unhinged. Why should I believe you when you say I can’t trust her, if I have no reason to trust you?”

“Have you ever tou-tou-touched her?” Bill demanded. “In the yuh-year you’ve known her, ha-have your body ev-ever even graze-grazed hers?” Eddie opened his mouth but froze. “No. It ha-hasn’t. I know it ha-hasn’t, be-because she knows if you ha-had ever tou-touched her, you’d kn-know the truth about her. And everything would have been ru-ruined.”

Eddie shook his head. “What’s she going to do to him?”

Bill frowned. “This wuh-wuh-wasn’t the plu-plan. I don’t- there’s only one place s-sh-she’d take him. But you have to tr-tr-trust me.”

It wasn’t in Eddie’s nature to be particularly trusting, and Bill wasn’t exactly somebody who was inspiring much benefit of the doubt. But his hands were still digging into Eddie’s arms and the only thing Eddie could sense was fear and deeper down- guilt that Eddie suspected he felt at all times. “Okay.” Eddie said, and as Bill let go of him, Eddie flicked on this ear piece’s speaker. 

Bill didn’t lead Eddie too far away, the pair of them travelling in silence and Eddie secretly wishing that Bill would simply tell him where the location was so Eddie could run there. If something happened to Richie while Eddie was wasting his time walking, he’d never forgive himself. Eventually, Bill led him over to the warehouse with lights that flashed through broken windows. He could make out figures walking around inside as he and Bill attempted to sneak into the warehouse without being noticed. 

There was a large glass sphere in the middle of the room, surrounded by what looked like burn white lightning that occasionally sparked brighter and caused the room to brighten as though large fluorescent lights flicked on overhead. Richie was seated a few feet away on the floor, bound against a large cement pillar that connected all the way up to the ceiling. He appeared unharmed, if not mildly annoyed. Eddie’s heart raced all the same Beverly and a man Eddie didn’t recognize both paced around the same space.

“Billy…” Beverly came to a full stand still. Bill froze at Eddie’s side. “There’s no need to sneak around. Come out, we have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

Bill pressed a single finger against his lips, before turning and stepping out of the shadows. “You’re m-may-making a big m-m-mistake, Beverly. He’s n-n-n-not who he says he is.”

“I think you’re the one who’s not who he says he is.” Beverly said, turning around and facing Bill with her arms crossed. “Going behind our backs and telling Richie some crap about Professor Fly? Bringing your existence to his attention? You forced our hand, Billy. Mr Scratch isn’t going to be pleased.”

“He-He’s not guh-good, Bev!” Bill cried, hands clutched at his side. “What do you th-th-think he’s going to do with it wuh-wuh-when he gets it? He-He’s puh-playing you both!”

“He is not!” Beverly cried. “He’s going to do exactly what told us! Why did you have to go and fuck up the plan?”

“Excuse me!” Richie cried, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But if I’m going to be killed, can you guys at least do me the decency of letting me know what you’re talking about in my final moments.”

“You’re not going to die.” Beverly’s male friend said softly. “Nobody is going to get hurt.”

“You’re a fuh-fool if you buh-believe that, Ben!” Bill said, taking steps closer into the room. “Richie, this mach-machine has the ab-ability tr-train a super-superhero of their p-p-powers. Mr Scr-scratch hates heroes and he-”

“Like you’re any better!” Beverly shouted over Bill’s explanation. “You’ve been with him longer than either of us! Heroes killed your brother, you hate them just as much as the rest of us. Maybe ever more! They ruined all our lives!” Beverly turned towards Richie and took a few steps towards him. “I lost my parents when I was little. My father was an awful man, he chased my mother away when I was only six. He died when I was 11, and my aunt took me in. For two years, I experienced happiness for the first time. I loved my aunt and she loved me, took care of me for the first time since I could remember anything. She was a good person, and superheroes came and ripped my only true family apart. My aunt took into selling drugs after she adopted me, just to get ends to meet. She wasn’t proud of it, but she did what she had to do for me. She was smart, she never would have been caught if the superheroes minded their own business and let police handle things. A bunch of hyped up vigilanties took my aunt away from me, and I went into foster care. I was only 13. When I was 17, Mr Scratch found me. Told me there were others like me, who wanted to even the playing field.”

“By killing all the superheroes?” Richie asked, voice breaking. “Beverly, you have to admit that sounds fucking insane!” 

“It isn’t going to kill them.” Ben added. “The Deadlight doesn’t kill them, it only drains them of their supernatural abilities. Makes them human, normal. Just like everybody else.” 

Richie scoffed, in higher octaves than regular voices. “And then what happens to their powers? They just what? Evaporate?” 

“They’ll be trapped in the Deadlight.” Ben answered. “Forever. No more superheroes.”

“You’re an i-idiot.” Bill said coldly. “Sc-Scratch is obviously going to tuh-take the powers! Guh-get rid of the sue-supers and make himself invisible. Undefeatable.”

“You’re full of shit.” Beverly snapped. “He wouldn’t do that! We’re not evil, or some fucking supervillain cult! All we want in equality! We’d never use any of these powers against anybody!”

 “You two wouldn’t.” Bill said darkly. “I’ve wuh-wuh-wondered if he was really who he suh-said he was for- a luh-long time. But I suh-saw plans in his uh-office. About how to ruh-ruh-reverse the Deadlights. He’s guh-gonna take the puh-powers for him-himself.” 

“You’re a fucking liar!” Beverly screamed. “He wouldn’t do that! He-” 

A suddenly crashing brought Beverly’s screams to a halt. The doors busted open and Stan dropped in, with Mike leaping off his back. Beverly took a step backwards, eyes open wide and Ben moved over to stand almost directly in front of Richie. 

“Where’s Eddie?” Mike demanded, glancing around the room. Eddie cringed and slapped a hand over his forehead, as Beverly and Ben exchanged a shocked expression. Richie looked around wildly, with huge, terrified eyes.

Beverly crossed her arms and looked back to the same shadows that Bill had appeared from. “Okay, Eds. You can come out.”

“Don’t call me that.” Eddie said sharply as he stepped out as well.

“Eddie…” Richie said a quiet, almost broken voice. Eddie tried to give him a reassuring look, but he knew that Richie would be able to see his own fear underneath the attempt. 

Beverly sighed and rolled her eyes. “Alright, this isn’t exactly how I planned on tonight going, though I have to say I did expect to see you all here after I took Richie.”

“Let him go.” Eddie said furiously. “He doesn’t have powers, he isn’t part of this. Let him go.”

Beverly smiled sadly. “No can do, sorry. Richie is actually a key factor to this whole mission. Why do you think I’ve been so encouraging of his little blog? He’s a natural talent, and he’s been so helpful in our acquiring the true identities of these so-called heroes.”

Eddie glanced at Richie, who looked like he might be physically ill. All Eddie wanted to do was rush over and wrap Richie in his arms and keep him safe, but he couldn’t show that weakness in this moment.

“We found Richie through you, though, Eddie.” Beverly said, looking almost… amused. “We didn’t know who you were, but Richie was at most of your scenes and we figured that he knew you. It was Big Bill’s idea that one of befriend him, and figure out what he knows. Does it sting a little, knowing you gave your future with Richie to protect him but you lead us to him anyway?” 

It more than stung, it burned. Eddie’s entire body felt like it was vibrating as he stood there, staring down at women he’d thought of as a friend for more than a year. A woman who’d been living under the same roof as Richie, but wanting only to use him and potentially cause him harm. 

“Oh, Eddie, don’t look like that.” Beverly said, sounding almost genuinely upset. “I already said we aren't gonna hurt him. Nobody is going to get hurt, Bill is just- I don’t even know what he’s trying to do.”

“I’m trying to wa-warn you!” Bill cried. “You’re buh-bluh-blinded stupid but your own luh-loyalty that you cant’ see the uh-aub-obvious truth in fr-fruh-front of you!!”

“This was your cause!” Ben came quickly to Beverly’s defence. “You hate superheroes maybe more than anybody! How can you say this wasn’t what you wanted?”

Bill’s jaw clenched and his bottom lip trembled. “I… I wanted the h-her-heroes gone. But I duh-didn’t want anybody to guh-get their powers and uh-use them for them-themselves.”

“You’re the only person who's acting like that’s going to happen.” Ben snapped. Eddie thought this was his moment, the first time he’d been able to see a true path of entrance. Everybody’s eyes were torn between Bill and Ben, this could be Eddie’s chance to get over to Richie and free him. Eddie, maybe for the first time in his life, misjudged his position. 

Beverly’s hands collided hard with Eddie’s chest, the strength of her anger and resentment hitting him hard and shocking him to his core. He understood now more than ever why Beverly hadn’t made the mistake of touching Eddie in the year they’ve known one another. He may not have felt any true evil inside her, like he had felt in many a foe before, and there was still a lingering of a sad, scared little girl at her core but none of the vibes she was giving to him at this moment was reassuring. He would have kept her far away from Richie, he would have figured out enough about her, and this plan would never have worked.

Beverly taking Eddie by utter surprise had given her even more of an advantage. He knocked Eddie backwards and he stumbled backwards, crashing directly into the Deadlight. An electric charge drove through every nerve in his body and he was thrown across the empty warehouse by a bolt of white lightning. He heard Richie scream his name, but it was like a buzzing deep in the back of his mind. 

The harsh impact to the hard ground jarred Eddie back into himself, though a small bit dazed. He’d landed not far from where Richie was tied up. He shuffled backwards, groaning as the oddest sensation of discomfort shot through his body, but he didn’t stop until he could rest his head against Richie’s knee. 

“Holy shit, Eds!” Richie gasped, fighting against his bindings even as it shook Eddie’s resting head. “How the fuck are you alive right now? You just got yeeted across the room by lightning!” 

Eddie grumbled as he reached blindly behind their bodies to untie Richie’s bondings. It must have been a testament to how shocking the last few moments had been as nobody attempted to stop them. Richie winced and rubbed at his hands for a moment before reaching out and cupping Eddie’s face. Eddie smiled as his eyes flushed shut and he leaned into the touch. 

“Are you okay?” Richie said in a low voice. It wasn’t quite a whisper, Richie never actually whispered, but it was soft and worried and so full of love that Eddie felt he might cry. 

“Yeah.” Eddie said back. “I’m okay. Promise promise.” 

Richie’s face broke into a relieved grin and pressed a hard kiss to Eddie’s voice. Maybe it had been the actual bolt of lightning that had just gone through Eddie’s body, but it felt so charged that Eddie even let out a small gasp. Then it all hit him and his eyes blew open wide. “Richie, I can’t feel you.”

“What? You can’t feel anything?” Richie asked in a panic. 

“No!” Eddie cried, shifting to sit up properly and grabbing Richie’s hands to tangle them together. “I can’t feel your spirit, your mood. It’s like… before.”

Richie and Eddie turned in unison to look at the Deadlight. The others all turned to follow their lead. It seemed to be glowing brighter, the lightning revolving around it faster. Eddie’s powers now fueling it. 

“Holy shit.” Mike said at the same time Beverly gasped. “It works.”

“Of course it works,” a deep voice came as a man in a long black cloak appeared out of nowhere. “You doubted me, Beverly? Thank you, you’ve all played your roles perfectly.” Bill startled as the man- Mr Scratch- turned to him and grinned. “Oh yes, even you Dear Bill. I always knew that your moral compass would bring you to betray me. I accounted for the variable since the beginning of our time together.”

As Mr Scratch moved around the circle, Beverly stepped out of his way as though she didn’t even notice she was doing it. She collided with Bill’s torso, and the man reached out to grab at her hand. She didn’t pull away from the touch, pale and shaking as she watched Mr Scratch rounded on the group.

“Stanley.” Mr Scratch said in a slow voice, grin spreading across his face. Stan was standing still as a statue, fists tightened even as tears filled his eyes. “You know who I am already, I can see it all over your face. Well, I never doubted your intelligence. Go ahead and tell them, there’s no need to keep it a secret amongst old friends.”

“Robert Gray.” Stan said through a clenched jaw. A single tear slipped from his ear and trailed down his cheek. “Professor Fly.”

Richie gasped and squeezed Eddie’s hand tightener. Ben stumbled away and crashed into the cement pillar that Richie had just been tied up against. Mike looked at Stan in shock as Beverly slapped a hand over her mouth. Bill pushed past her, rage evident as his face. “YOU MOTHERFUCKER-”

Gray  barely even flicked his wrist and Bill soared off his feet and slammed up against a pillar, easily twenty feet off the ground. “Stupid boy.” Gray said fondly. “You will never be a match for me, and you’ll never outsmart me. I have been planning this moment for nearly a decade. Your brother’s death started a fire that will destroy the entire world of supers as we know it.” 

Bill struggled against the invisible hold Gray had against him, Richie turning his head away from the scene and pressing his face against Eddie’s neck. Eddie could feel how Richie’s hands were shaking where they were connected.

“None of you are giving me enough credit.” Gray said in a bored tone. “Do you have any idea how much work I had to put into this entire thing? I didn’t just have to create the Deadlights, I had to hand pick every single person who would help me. Bill was a no brainer, even as I knew I could never trust him fully. Beverly and Ben had to be vulnerable enough that they would never question me, and that Bill would never feel confident in telling them what he’d figured out.”

“You left the pl-pl-pla-”

“Yes.” Gray interrupted. “I left the plans out on purpose. Haven’t you figured that I don’t leave anything to chance, William? I accounted for every possible outcome. I had to choose Stan very carefully, choose an heir that would follow my orders but never question me when I told him I could not be contacted after I retire. That I would simply never return.” 

Stan turned away bitterly, trying to wipe at the tears on his as inconspicuously as he possibly could. 

“Even after that, I had to pull so many strings. Made sure that Richie and Stan would cross paths, had to let Beverly believe that Richie’s silly little blog was her idea to let them both feel important.” He shot Eddie a slimey grin. “Had to make sure that Richie got caught in that hostage situation just after they moved to NYC so Eddie wouldn’t consider their relationship worth Richie’s life and end things, so there would be space for Beverly to make her move on Richie. I will admit I was hoping that Richie would fall in love with her, but I underestimated his love for Eddie. A small loss, but nothing damaging to the overall scheme.”

Eddie’s body thrummed with rage. Richie had nightmares for a year after that fucking bank heist, and this man had done that to them on purprose for the simply purpose of breaking them up? Richie still had panic attacks and made Eddie or Bev go with him if he needed to do any sort of banking he couldn’t do online. 

“You said nobody was going to be hurt.” Beverly said, tears streaming down her face. “You said- you said you wanted to even the playing field! You’re a monster!”

“Nobody will be hurt.” Gray said. “You will all be free to go, once all the supers have touched the Deadlight and given up their powers. You’ll all be able to go on with your lives, and I will be able to go on with mine. Once your powers are gone, you’ll have no reason to oppose me and I will have no reason to bother you again.”

Beverly and Ben stood directly in front of the Deadlight, the pain on their faces from the flashing bursts of lightning behind them. Stan was staring directly at Gray, face a mask of rage even as tears fell from his eyes. Richie hadn’t moved from where he’d hidden himself against Eddie.

“You killed my brother on purpose.” Bill said from above them. He was still fighting against Gray’s grip. 

For the first time, Gray’s composure slipped. “No.” He said shortly. “That was a tragic accident. That moment changed me forever. It was when I realized that all of those with powers, even myself, were capable of death and destruction. That we were all inherently evil. The day, I knew that I could not allow another person to hold such powers over another being again. You know, Billy- your brother is the reason for all of this. He gave his life for the new world order-”

Bill let out an intelligible scream but Gray could so much as speak, Mike Hanlon had launched himself from the crowd and latched himself onto Gray’s back. Eddie watched with mouth gape as Gray struggled against the hold before clear blue ice began to spread across his body in a matter of seconds. As the ice completely covered Gray, Bill began to free fall. Stan didn’t waste a single moment before launching up into the sky and catching Bill mid-fall and lowering them both to the ground. He let go of Bill as they touched down and rushed over to Eddie and Richie, one hand finding its way into Richie’s hair and the other falling on top of their joined hands.

“That’s the trick to villains.” Mike said, not even sounding out of breath. “You gotta get ‘em while they’re monologuing.” 

Beverly, face hard, stepped forward and kicked at Gray’s frozen chest. He tittered and fell backwards, shattering into pieces as he hit the ground. “I think it’s safe to say he didn’t account for those variables.” 

They were quiet for a long moment, Stan helping Richie and Eddie to their feet and holding onto them as they all moved towards the shattered ice pieces in the middle of the room. Even in the chilly night, they could see the beginning signs of melting.

“We nn-n-need to d-d-estory this fucking thing.” Bill said suddenly, all of them turning towards the Deadlight. Hums of agreement moved through the room. 

“Wait.” Richie said, tightening his hold on Eddie’s waist. “You said that the powers could be taken out right? We need to get Eddie’s powers back!”

“Oh, yeah!” Bill said quickly. “I- I’ll s-s-see if I can find the instructions ag-again.”

Do you ever think of giving it up? Hanging up your suit and just being a normal person. Letting yourself really love Richie?

“Wait.” Eddie said, throwing out a hand. “Don’t. I don’t want them back.”

Every eye in the room turned to him, Stan smiling even as tears still hung in his eyes. “I never wanted them,” Eddie carried on. “I didn’t want to be some hero, saving people. I wanted to run track and fix cars and be with my love of my life.”

Richie turned slowly, eyes wide and painfully hopeful. “Eddie, don’t do this for shit for me. Please, okay, I-”

“I’m not doing it for you.” Eddie turned and slid his arms around Richie’s shoulders. “I’m doing it for me. I don’t need these bullshit powers. I can run perfectly fine with my own two normal feet, and I would love to be able to touch a person without knowing their moral count or pick up something in somebodys house without knowing if its fucking haunted or not.”

Richie chuckled wetly.

“And I love you so much.” Eddie continued. “And all I want is to be with you, it’s all I’ve ever wanted since the fucking sixth grade. I’m tired of loving each other and being forced apart and just hurting each other over and over. Especially over these stupid powers I was cursed with. I don’t want them back. I wanna be with you and I wanna be happy.”

Richie ducked down and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. This time Eddie knew the sparks that seemed to shoot through him was no lightning shot- just love. 

Spotted! FlyBoy, Captain Fly and Freezie teaming up with three civilians and your truly to foil a truly evil plan, saving not just our city but possibly our entire world. (Eyewitnesses may claim that Freezie did all the work, but that remains to be proven.) And in case you missed it, there was an epic conclusion to an equally epic love story. You know what they say, all’s well that ends great… or however the saying goes!

[writerbyaccident]

Favors (Yandere DabixReader)

So I decided to try a different angle with Dabi for this one, hope you all like it!

           Dabi hated to see you cry. He hated the way it made his heart burn to soothe you; he hated the way it made his fingers twitch to hold you; he hated the way it made his feet itch to rush to you. But most of all, he hated the way your tears thrilled him. That feeling, that thrill, was far too familiar to Dabi. He had seen it in a particular pair of eyes throughout his turbulent childhood, and he had always hated it. He had been in the place you were now in, the place where his pain gave someone else pleasure. When he saw you in distress though, Dabi just couldn’t help it. Your pain was proof, proof of just how much you needed him, proof that you would be destroyed without him. And when he gave into his urges to soothe you, to hold you, to run to you, he proved that he was the only one who could take care of you. That was why your suffering thrilled him the way it did, it reaffirmed what he already knew, what he was trying to teach you.

           Every time something went wrong in your life, Dabi made sure that he was right there next to you. It was instinctual, a current that he found himself caught in every time, even as he tried to convince himself to stay away. But his need to see you, to comfort you, to confirm your dependence on him, was too addictive to ignore. The craving was burned into him, as much a part of him as his scars. Besides, that devilish part of him hissed, what was he supposed to do?  Abandon you when you needed him? Just let you suffer? Wouldn’t the truly selfish choice be to refuse to provide the comfort you needed just so he could feel better about himself? Deep down Dabi knew that these were all just flimsy justifications, that these doubts were just more creative ways for him to tempt himself. But they were excuses that he could use when the compulsion grew too strong.

           They were the excuses he drew back on when he needed to see you tonight.

           “What happened?” he asked softly, successfully keeping the excitement out of his voice. As he stepped through the door of your apartment, Dabi wrapped an arm around your waist, unable to keep himself from immediately latching onto you. Leaning into his touch, you thanked all of the stars in the sky that you had someone in your life who cared about you like Dabi did. He was always stopping by, whether it was to hang out or just to check in on you. He was always right there when you needed him, and he always knew just what to do to make you feel better.

           “It—it’s my job,” you sobbed, trying to avoid Dabi’s gaze so that he wouldn’t see you cry. Really though, you weren’t sure why you bothered, he had already seen your tears plenty of times. “They—they fired me today.”

           “What? Why?” Dabi exclaimed, cupping your chin in his hand and tilting it upwards so that he could see your face clearly.

           “They said that I wasn’t available or focused enough, that I was too unreliable and—and lazy.” Even just recounting the nonsensical words your former boss had presented to you made the full force of your misery and worry surge through you, bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. Blurry as your vision was from the tears, you failed to notice the satisfied gleam that flashed in Dabi’s eyes.

           “That’s fucking ridiculous, you’re the hardest worker I know.”

           “Well apparently you don’t know many hard workers,” you chuckled forcibly, trying your best to downplay your sorrow. Dabi wasn’t fooled though, after observing you for so long and so closely he knew exactly when you needed someone to comfort you.

           “You don’t need to be brave right now,” Dabi told you, silently pleading you to just let go and let him take care of you. With each new tear that pooled in your eyes, with each fresh trembling of your lips, Dabi could feel thrill pulse through him. He was the hunter, and he was closing in for the kill.

           “I just don’t know what I’m gonna do. I was only just scraping by with rent and everything, by the time I find a new job it’ll be too late.” Dabi nodded solemnly at your words, but inside he was howling with triumph. After all, this was more proof than he had ever gotten before. Even before Dabi “convinced” your boss to let you go, you were only hanging on by a thread. Disaster could have struck at any moment, and frankly, you were lucky that most of your life’s disasters these days were caused by Dabi. Things would have turned for the worse sooner or later, so really it was better that Dabi was behind it, for that meant he could easily fix it. Besides, the rush it gave him to know that your whole life, both the good and the bad, was controlled by him was too addictive for him to walk away from. That more than anything else proved what how completely you belonged to him.

           “It’s gonna be okay,” he whispered soothingly into your ear. “I have some money saved up. I’ll take care of everything.”

           “But—”

           “No buts, babe,” he responded, his very first use of a pet name for you acting as the finishing touch for on a very enjoyable conversation. You, however, barely registered it, and when you eventually did, you wrote it off as a part of Dabi’s rather casual manner. Dabi, on the other hand, very much meant to call you that term, along with all of its implications. If he was going to be paying your bills and shit, hadn’t he earned it? He had helped you through so many rough times. And even if he had caused a number of those rough times, Dabi couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it. 

Yes, Dabi hated to see you cry. Dabi hated to see you cry, because each time he did, he wanted to see it again.

[euphoriyoongi]

☂︎ Doom at Your Service || written version

☂︎ Summary:

She lost her parents at an early age, and now she’s diagnosed with a brain tumor, forcing her to have less than 100 days to live. As she prays for the destruction of the world, the destruction himself—Jimin—comes to live with her in her last days.

☂︎ Pairings: doom!jimin x sick!OC (original character)

☂︎ Word count: 2.4k

☂︎ Warnings: language

// next.

m.list

일 one

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“It’s glioblastoma.” The doctor said, looking down at the paperwork in front of him. “It seems like a few tumors. It’s terminal.”

Terminal? Where did I go wrong in my life for this to happen? Was it because I never did anything else but work?

“It’s why you’ve been dizzy and why you’ve been throwing up.”

All I could do right now was just stare at him, wide eyed.

“We could take more tests—a biopsy—but, the location doesn’t look good.” He let out a sigh, looking behind him to see the Head CT scan.

“I see.” I said, confused, but still understanding his words.

“There’s a surgical option, however,” he stopped speaking and looked up to my eyes, nearly pleading me to take this seriously. “It won’t give you much more time.”

Keeping my calm, I asked the question I was dying to hear. “Am I going to die?”

It seemed a bit morbid, but the doctor didn’t seem fazed. “Yes.”

The doctor was silent. He didn’t want to tell me and it was obvious. It might be because I knew him personally outside of the hospital, but right now, he just looked at me with eyes of worry. “If you get the treatment, you’ll have about one good year. At most.” He murmured, bringing his gaze back down to the papers. “But still, it won’t be an enjoyable year.”

“And if I don’t get the biopsy?” I questioned, playing with my hands in my lap nervously. I had a feeling he was going to tell me to get the surgery and not worry about time, but what he said me sent chills down my spine.

“Three months. Maybe four.” He sighed, flipping through the papers. “Please think about this, you’re going to suffer great pain if you don’t decide on treatment.”

“I couldn’t get off enough days for treatment.” I said, calmly.

The doctor looked dumbfounded. “But I—I think this is much more serious than missing a bit of work.”

I couldn’t think. Maybe it was the tumor making me think that I couldn’t, but I was overwhelmed. I tried to keep my calm, and I stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back behind me. “You seem like a real doctor.” I said to him with a smile.

He was a real one, but he was also a writer, and I was his editor. I couldn’t help but feel like this was all some sort of joke. It wasn’t, though, and he didn’t laugh. “Just make sure you get your writing in on time.” I said, forcing a smile. “Then,”

I started to walk away and out of the room when he called out to me again. “I trust you to make the right decision, whatever way it is for you. But please, if you decide surgery, come here or call as soon as possible.”

Now out of the room I walked down the corridor and towards the atrium. The words the doctor said hit me straight through the heart. I didn’t want the surgery. I had too much work to do. I wouldn’t be able to. I might as well enjoy whatever time I have in my life.

“Glioblastoma..” I muttered under my breath. “Glioblastoma..”

As I kept saying that treacherous word over and over again, I must’ve not of been paying attention to where I was walking. I bumped into someone in a white doctors coat, and as he caught me in his arms, my heart beat a bit faster as I looked up to his face.

What kind of..face?

Sure, he was beautiful. His eyes were sharp, and his lips looked soft I nearly reached out to touch them. His hair was some sort of dark blue..maybe green? Possibly even black. It was the kind of color the human eye would have difficulty deciphering. He was stunning. But as stunning as he was, when he opened his mouth, he knew it too. “I know I’m handsome. But I’m busy.” He smirked, and lifted me back up to my feet and walked away.

I watched him walk, his footsteps making little 0it-pats on the tile floor. He was even attractive from the back as his white coat flowed behind him.

Breaking out of my funk, I continued to walk towards the reception desk to check out. “Hi, I’m Cha Haneul, checking out.”

Just as I finished my sentence, sirens started blaring right outside the entrance door, and paramedics rushed in with multiple stretchers, sending the people around staring to worry about what happened. On the tv next to the desk, it showed on the news that there was a large-scale stabbing. He stabbed seven people, and all of them were rushed to this hospital. And well, I guess this included the perpetrator as well.

I gritted my teeth. “That crazy—“

“Mam? Are you going to pay?” The receptionist called out to me, and I brought my attention back to her.

“Ah, yes..”

Looking at the bill, it was nearly seven-hundred dollars. My eyes widened and I nearly said some things I shouldn’t say. “Crazy—“

“What?” The lady tilted her head at me, her eyes squinting.

“Ah, never mind.” I looked around the room. “Can I pay this in monthly installments?”

The lady started to type on her computer. “For how many months?”

The doctor’s words flooded back into my mind when she said the word “month”. It reminded me that i would only have a few of those to live…and it was strange to think I don’t have longer. Just an hour ago I was living my life like normal, thinking I’d have forever to go. Truth is, life isn’t permanent. And it’s only a matter of time when you get a death sentence.

Smiling, I just said the only amount of time I have. “For three months, please.”

Back in the emergency room, Jimin stood in the midst of all the injuries, watching the stretchers roll in one by one.

Not yet. He thought to himself, watching a stretcher with a man bleeding heavily. He couldn’t help them. It was their fate.

Just then, another stretcher rolled in. This time, it was followed by multiple paramedics and he was put onto an ER bed.

There he is.

Since Jimin was dressed up in a hospital coat, the paramedic started to explain the situation. “He’s the perpetrator. He tried to kill himself on the scene. The police are on their way.”

He nodded, and turned to his right, where a nurse was coming to tend to the patient. She noticed that he didn’t have a badge with his name on it, and blinked at him. “Excuse me, which department are you—“

He interrupted her by fixing the sleeve of her top, and she stared at him right into his eyes. Big mistake. He stared back, gazing deeply into her as if compelling her. He was.

Her eyes widened as he didn’t even need to say any words for her to listen to him.

Smirking at her, Jimin leaned in closer. “Pull the curtain around the perpetrator. I need you to make sure no one but the police can enter.” He demanded, staring intently at her until she answered.

“Yes, doctor.”

He smirked again as she walked away, and made his way back to the man who didn’t deserve to die after hurting all of those people. It wasn’t fair.

The man was heavily bleeding from the stab wound he made himself of his neck, and laid lifelessly as Jimin neared. “Open your eyes, you prick.”

As if on command, the man’s eyes pierced awake, getting a blurry image of Jimin standing over him with a frown.

He laid there without speaking as he nervously looked at Jimin, who wasn’t helping him at all. “Ah, I see. You think you are something, eh?” He sneered, a smile resting on his face. “We’ll I’m the one who’s something. You’re nothing.”

He leaned closer to the man. “It feels as if you parked in my goddamn parking spot. A horrible park job, by the way. Totally ruined my mood.”

He let out a few groans and he tried to look away, but couldn’t seem to.

Annoyed, Jimin had enough. He reached out his hand and choked the man, gritting his teeth. “Move your fucking car.”

The man was confused, he hand parked anywhere. He realized that it wasn’t a car he was talking about. It was the action he did. Doom. He brought doom on peoples lives and well, that was jimin’s job.

He choked him still, the man’s hands coming to grasp onto Jimin’s pleading to let go.

“See, doom isn’t your job. It’s mine. You were completely careless.” He hissed, wiping his eyebrow with his free hand.

A smile dawned on his face. “So I’m gonna be just as careless.”

The man grabbed onto Jimin’s white coat, blood smearing onto it. “I’m going to make you pay for taking my parking place.” He nearly growled, and focused his attention to the man’s neck wound, healing it as he groaned in pain. He didn’t deserve to die. To get away with what he did.

The man let go of his grip on Jimin when he realized he had been healed, and stared up at him in shock, holding onto his neck and panicking.

Jimin smirked, and turned around as if to walk away, but had a sudden thought.

“Ah, one more thing.” Jimin said, turning around to face the man, who was clutching his neck. “There’s something that’s much more dreadful than doom.”

Silence took over the space they were in, the man still gasping for air and Jimin having his arms crossed over his chest with a smile.

“Life.”

At that, he abruptly turned and was about to leave, when the police moved the curtain. “We’re the police.”

Smirking, Jimin looked over at the criminal.

The criminal groans and cried, watching Jimin fade from his view, his smirk never ceasing.

He walked away, proudly, leaving the police behind to do the justice.

No one gets away with taking his job.

No one.

On a balcony of the hospital, a tall man stood overlooking the view of the city. He wore hospital clothes, and slippers that seemed to be too small for him. As he heard footsteps nearing him, he knew who it was. “You’re here?”

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked him, walking up next to him to overlook as well.

He looked over at him, noticing the large blood stain obviously visible on the white coat. “You could’ve at least changed.”

Jimin huffed. “I didn’t so I could show you it.”

He then hit himself in the spot where the blood was, and it began to disappear as if it was never there. “Some kind of god you are.” He muttered, leaning up against the balcony’s railing. “Are to tired of this hospital life, too? You have the whole world in your hands.”

The man scoffed, running his hand through his shortly cropped brown hair. “You try being sick.”

“There you go again, acting all pitiful.” Jimin smiled, looking towards him.

They both looked out to the skyline, where the sun was nearly setting. The sky had a bit of and orange hue to it, reflecting against the buildings.

“I feel like a gardener.” Namjoon smirked, still looking away from Jimin. “I’m always planting and watering. Wishing it will all grow.”

He then turned to Jimin. “But not all of them sprout. And some that do, can be poisonous plants. Some medicinal herbs. Who knows.”

He was talking about the earth. Joon was a god. He was the reason Jimin existed. It felt strange that his fate was all because of him.

“But..” Joon carried off, turning away. “The garden doesn’t belong to the gardener.”

Catching him off guard, Jimin furrowed his eyebrows. “Then what am I? In this garden of yours.” He asked him seriously, hoping to get some kind of assurance that he wasn’t only living to bring doom to the world.

“You’re a butterfly.” Namjoon said, smiling.

Jimin scoffed. “Until when? How long will I be a butterfly?”

He was inderectly asking how long will he have to live as a death-bringer. A walking ticking time bomb that was never able to live amongst human kind, only to watch destruction that was brought upon by him. He didn’t even mean to do the things he did most of the time, and unhappiness just occurred around him. It was like the would would drain if color just by the sight of him.

Namjoon stared at Jimin, tilting his head. “Forever.” He sinfully smiled, noticing Jimin’s frown as he said it.

Jimin scoffed again. “Damn man, you’re so cruel. Even on someone’s birthday.”

Joon’s happy demeanor shifted. “Birthday? Someone?” He shook his head. “Since when were you born? You were never born. And you were never a human, so how could you be someone?”

Jimin felt his heart crack a bit. He shouldn’t be upset about that statement, but he was. He silently looked at Joon, waiting for him to keep going.

Joon just sighed, and rested his elbows on the railing. “Go, be someone’s wish today. It’s the only day you could do it.”

“Even my birthday isn’t for me.” He said, bitterly, and feeling bitter as well. He just wanted to have a purpose in life, and not it being doom. Destruction. Pain. Irritation.

“It’s for the humans.” Joon smiled.

Humans were the only reason of his existence. And he wanted it to be over. He didn’t want to live anymore, especially with the way he was living. The only way he could cease to exist was if the humans did, too.

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Those damn flowers.”

They both stood there quietly, looking over the world as if it’s in the palm of their hands.

“It’s time for them to wilt.”