#none of this cutesy shit let me see her live up to her name and be very mentally ill | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

one-sad-human · 4 years ago

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•Dinner Party Disaster• Izzy Stradlin

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Requested? Yes! By @Jtrstp

Theme: Fluff

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: —

You met Izzy at a book store. He was looking for a very specific psychology book and you were buying the repressing of Pride and Prejudice, as it's always been your favorite book.

All Izzy said to you was 'nice choice,' because it was. He remembers enjoying it when he read it as a teenager. But that's all it took to spring you into a rant about how it's the best book ever and how you've re-read it over six times.

By the time you noticed you were spitting out obscure information on some book the stranger really didn't care about, it had already been five minutes.

What surprised you was how he didn't stop you, he nodded along and seemed actually intrigued. You apologized profusely but Izzy just stopped you and told you to please continue. So you did, why wouldn't you take the chance to talk about something you loved?

It wasn't everyday a handsome stranger is willing to hear you blabber about an old book. But not only was he handsome, he was smart and kind. He listened to everything you had to say and even chipped in on things he knew about it.

He decided then in the middle of the isle that he liked you, a lot. You were his exact opposite, you wore soft comfortable clothes in neutral colors where he was clad in leather and silver jewelry. Despite all the differences, he found you interesting.

Izzy asked you out on a date, a simple and sweet one. It started by getting dinner at a small hole-in-the-wall type restaurant, then he took you on a walk to see the stars.

It had been the nicest date Izzy had ever had. It wasn't rushed just so he could get you home to get in your pants, but relaxing and just talking and getting to know each other.

Now nearly six months after your first date, and things are still going strong. Izzy truly feels he's in love with you, not that he told you yet of course, being the over thinker that he is.

"Hi, honey!" You exclaim as you walk through your door. Izzy had been sleeping over your apartment more and more lately.

"Hey, sweetheart, how was work?" He asks. Izzy would always say that he didn't like pet names, but he secretly loves all the cutesy nicknames— only from you though.

"Fine," you say and plop down on the couch next to Izzy. "Busy, but it was still a good day!"

You work at a coffee shop, a very busy coffee shop. How you can always stay so positive and rarely have bad days is something Izzy really looks up to. Izzy leans over and pecks your cheek, something that makes you smile every time.

"That's nice." Izzy pulls you closer to him, peppering a few more kisses to your neck and jaw. You giggle and throw your arms around him, and Izzy pauses his attack. "You know, there's actually something I wanted to ask you about—"

The shrill blare of the phone ringing cuts Izzy off. You unwrap yourself from him and give him a quick kiss on the lips.

"Hold that thought, Iz!" You jog over to your phone and pick it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Y/N! Is Izzy there?"

"Oh, Steven, yeah Izzy is here. You want to talk to him?" You ask Steven.

"Yes, please!" You put your hand over the receiver.

"Izzy, it's Steven," you tell him handing over the phone. You wander over to the living room, not wanting to intrude on Izzy's conversation. After a few minutes, Izzy walks back to the living room and sits next to you.

"We have to go to a dinner tonight, all their girlfriends are going, too," Izzy says, pressing a kiss to your temple almost as to soothe the news.

You wouldn't say you disliked Izzy's band mates— because that's just not true. Steven was nothing but sweet to you, a little flirty sometimes but you just laughed it off.

Duff and Slash were just surprised Izzy could like someone so... soft. You really don't seem like his type, at least to them. But even then, they're never malicious towards you.

Axl, however, is a different story. He just flat out doesn't like you, and he wasn't very subtle either. You're boring to him, you don't drink or smoke, definitely don't do drugs— not that Izzy did anymore either, which Axl had a feeling was because of you.

He's just difficult to deal with, has been ever since you met, but you sucked it up for Izzy. But you aren't too sure you can survive a whole dinner.

"What's the occasion?" Izzy shrugs at your question.

"To make us suffer."

After a while of prying, you found out the dinner is to celebrate Axl's engagement to his girlfriend Erin Everly. You've met her once or twice before and she seemed pretty nice.

The dinner is taking place at an expensive and very classy restaurant, which made you incredibly nervous. You had never really been to such a fancy place, and it's pretty intimidating.

"Would you calm down? You look gorgeous," Izzy says as he drives towards the restaurant.

"I'm calm, I'm calm."

"Yeah, real calm, that's why your leg is bouncing and shaking the whole car," Izzy says and places his hand on your bouncing leg.

"I'm sorry, but you know I've never been one for fancy places. I almost had a panic attack at the MTV music video awards last year!" You sigh.

"If it helps, you certainly fit in. You look stunning," Izzy compliments and picks up your hand, placing a chaste kiss before placing it back down.

"Thank you," you say with red checks.

Izzy pulls into the parking lot, parking his sleek black car before stepping out. He jogs awkwardly to your side and opens your door, grabbing your hand and ignoring your teasing comments.

There's a man dressed in a suit at the front desk, and he quickly takes you and Izzy to the rest of his bandmates. Izzy sits and you slide in the chair next to him, smiling politely and his friends.

"About time you two got here," Slash says, a smile saying he's joking.

"We would've gotten here sooner if Izzy didn't take forever getting dressed," you say. Izzy rolls his eyes with a fond smile.

"Yeah, I took forever getting dressed," he says sarcastically. Izzy grabs the water pitcher and pours himself and you a glass.

"So do you not sleep at your place anymore?" Axl asks. Izzy shrugs.

"Oh fuck off, you act like you've never slept over your girlfriend's house," Duff says. You smile at him in thanks.

After a while, the waiter comes with everyone’s order. He seems nervous and his hands shake when he puts down everyone’s plates. When he gets to you, he knocks over your water, effectively drenching you.

“What the fuck man,” Izzy complains, quickly grabbing one of those fancy dinner napkins.

“I’m so sorry, miss!” You wave your hand and smile.

“It’s alright, I’ll be right back,” you say and stand, pulling the wet fabric away from your skin as you speed walk towards the ladies room.

Axl lets out an obnoxious laugh, sending all eyes towards him. Izzy narrows his eyes at him.

“What the fuck are you laughing at?” He asks.

“Oh come on, you have to admit that was funny. She looked like she was going to cry!”

“You’re an asshole. It wasn’t her fault that dumbass spilt water all over her.” Axl rolls his eyes, his face that was once amused now looks irritated.

“Look, can you just fucking admit that you being with that loser is charity work?” By now the rest of the table is deathly silent, none of the bandmates nor their girlfriends daring say a word.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Izzy asks through gritted teeth.

“Check please!” Slash calls out, desperate to get out before his lead singer and guitarist start pummeling each other.

“I said that your girlfriend is a loser, and I have no idea why you could want her,” Axl says, ignoring Slash’s plead.

“Don’t fucking talk about her,” Izzy warns, his eyes dark.

“Why?”

“Because I’m in love with her and she is ten times the person you are at least.”

“What?” You ask, now standing next to your chair. Izzy whips his head towards you and stands.

“Let’s go,” he says and drags you away. You send a wave and smile to his band, being completely oblivious to the conversation. Although you are wondering why Izzy had declared his love for you, you’ll ask him once he’s cooled off.

“What happened, I was gone for five minutes?” You ask once you get outside.

“Axl opened his mouth.” You and Izzy get into his car, and he peels away quickly. His hands are tightly clamped around the steering wheel. You take one of his pale hands and rub soothing circles around it.

“What got you so riled up?”

“Axl thinks he could talk shit about you, and I’m not going to let him talk about you— fuck, even look at you, again.” You nod slowly, it wasn’t the first time Axl had said something that got Izzy upset.

“And did you mean what you said? That you love me?” You ask nervously. Izzy tenses up, you can feel it in his hand.

“Yes, is that ok?” Izzy asks, his face stoic as usual, but you could see right through it. You smile dorkily with a red face and lean over the middle console of the car, giving his cheek a kiss.

“Absolutely.”

#guns n’ roses #guns n’ roses x reader #guns n’ roses imagine #classic rock imagine #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fic #Izzy Stradlin #Izzy Stradlin fluff

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ordinaryschmuck · 4 years ago

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My Favorite Moments from It All Started with a Jacket (Chapters 1-10)

Now that I have written ten chapters of It All Started with a Jacket (how the hell are y’all still reading it), I thought I comemorate the occasion by sharing my favorite moments from each chapter. More specifically, every moment that was the most fun for me to write. This can range from moments that made me laugh at my own dumb jokes, or moments that I felt proud of for how well they turned out. Either way, this list is gonna be long. Like, rrrreeeaaallllllyyy lllooonnng. So you might want to strap in before clicking ‘Keep reading.’

Chapter 1

Amity and the car horn

"Oh no, you don't!" Luz sprinted over to Amity's car, to which her rival had already gotten in, and locked the doors. Just as Amity started the engine, Luz was already there, beating her hand against the window.

"If you think I'm too afraid to break a car window, you've got another thing--"

HOOONK!

"...You've got another--"

HOOOOOONK!

"You've got--"

Amity raised her hand above the car horn again with her eyebrow raised and her grin amused. She was essentially challenging Luz to finish that sentence.

"..."

"...You'vegotanotherthingcoming--"

HOOOOOOOOOONK!

"THAT TEARS IT!"

Amity sniffing Luz’s jacket (the main reason why I wrote this in the first place)

Amity set the hanger back where she found it and slowly lifted Luz's jacket up to her face. For a while, she did nothing, choosing instead to just stare at it. And then, she briefly took a small sniff.

'Well, that was a mistake,' was all she could think as intoxicating smells of pinecones and lemons started overtaking her senses. Almost immediately, Amity grabbed the jacket with both hands and shoved her face into it, inhaling more of the scent. After letting out a euphoric sigh, Amity looked at it again, shrugged, and put it back on.

Amity’s apology

"I said that I'm sorry." Amity continued, "Not just for the jacket, but for everything. The insults, the name-calling, and especially the fighting. I'm sorry for all of it."

"...Are you dying?"

"Wha--No!" now Amity turned to face Luz, "Why is that the first thing that came to your mind?"

"I don't know, man," Luz shrugged, "This just seems like some sort of final repentance type of shit. Like when Tom needed Jerry to sign him off to take the escalator to heaven."

"Who the hell is Tom and Jerry?"

"The greatest comic duo of all time, that's who!" Luz genuinely seemed insulted that Amity didn't know, to which she rolled her eyes in response.

Luz’s reaction

Luz opened the door and was about to leave. But then:

"I saw the bi flag."

After Amity spoke, Luz froze in her place. One foot was out the door, and her face was already turned away from Amity's, so she couldn't gauge an expression. So Amity took her chance to go on.

"It's hidden in a spot a person could barely notice, so there's no way that it came with the flag already sewn it," she explained, "Even if you bought the jacket from someone else, you could have easily torn it out. I've seen you done worse. But you kept it in, which makes me think that maybe...That maybe you're bisexual."

Luz didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

Instead, she stayed frozen in place, and Amity still couldn't tell what was going on in the human's mind at the moment. Not that she ever could. Eventually, Luz slowly and stiffly sat back in the passenger seat and slammed the car door shut. Her eyes were tight shut, and breathing was ragged, and Amity thought Luz was seething. But then Amity recognized what Luz was doing. She had done the same thing many times when forced to talk with her mother.

Luz was forcing herself not to cry.

Luz’s rant

"...Did you not tell anybody?" was all Amity could ask.

"...I told Willow," Luz confessed, "She has gay dads, so I thought: 'Hey, she gets it.' Other than that, nobody else knows. Except for you."

"Not even your mom?"

"Especially not her! She's super religious! If I came out to her, then I might as well pack a suitcase and get ready to live on the streets!"

"Why?"

"Because humans are not like witches," Luz looked back at Amity, clapping her hands for emphasis, "For humans, what matters in life is the color of your skin, the people you like, and the gender you're given at birth. Go against any of that, and you're screwed!"

"That's awful."

"That's life!" Luz stated, her eyes glistening, "And I had to put up with that bullshit for all of it! I had to deal with dumb gringas in the locker room who might think that I was a pervert just because I liked girls. I had to deal with pretending to be interested in one gender and hide a part of myself that people think I should be ashamed of! I had to deal with the fear that the one person I trust the most might throw me to the curb because of something that shouldn't even matter!"

Luz paused to wipe tears that had leaked out from her eyes.

"I had to deal with all of that," she went on, "Because that's just what humans are like. I wish we were like witches. I really do. But we're not, and the sad part is, we might never will."

Chapter 2

Luz is a prick

Luz kicked a discarded beer can down the sidewalk. Only to just as quickly picking it up and ditching it in a recycling bin that someone left out on the curb for trash day. Luz may be a rebel, but she isn't a lazy prick.

"And what the hell does me being bi have anything to do with it?"

"Bi what?"

Luz stopped both her walk and her ramblings after hearing that voice. Looking to her left, Luz saw a woman carrying her groceries to her house. That woman is Mrs. Kranstien, a white, middle-aged gossip who's part of Luz's mom's church group. Also known as the last person Luz wanted to find out that she's bisexual.

"Uh, bilingual," Luz brushed it off, seeming like she isn't panicking right now. Which she is. "Significa que hablo dos idiomas. What else could I mean?"

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it," Mrs. Kranstien harrumphed, "It is not becoming of a young lady."

"Y no tienes que meter la nariz donde no pertenece," Luz shrugged, "Pero, ¿quién soy yo para juzgar?"

"...What does that mean?"

"It means you're absolutely right, and I am so sorry for being so rude," Luz turned on her heel and kept walking, "Adios, gringa!"

"Is 'gringa' a compliment!" Mrs. Kranstien called out as Luz walked away.

"Sure is! Make sure to say it to your friends when you have the chance!"

Ok, maybe she is a little bit of a prick.

Luz’s indecision

"Should I do this?"

Luz gently rubbed the blade of the knife.

"...Yeah. Yeah, I definitely should."

She lowered the blade over a thread sewn in but stopped a tenth of a millimeter away from it.

"But it's not even noticeable."

Luz raised the knife away.

"Although Blight did notice it."

And lowered it back down again.

"But that's because she was wearing it. It's not like mom could ever wear this."

"But what if it's laundry day and she takes the jacket without you knowing?"

"I mean, that could happen, but she would have to actively search for it."

"Is that really worth the risk, though?"

Luz started twirling the knife in her fingers at this point. The bi flag still remained intact, with not a single thread being taken out. Most days, Luz would barely notice it, and she's the one who always wears her jacket. Now, more than ever, the bright colors of the flag seemed incredibly noticeable.

"No," Luz shook her head, "It's not worth the risk."

She lowered the knife again and even got the blade under a thread. But before she could do anything remotely similar to removing the string, she hesitated. Again.

"...But it's also who I am," Luz sighed, pocketing her knife and putting the jacket back on.

"It's a part of me," Luz lightly beat the back of her head against the wall, "Taking it off isn't going to change anything, and it especially won't make me any less bi."

Chapter 3

Nerds being nerds

Amity nearly spat out her slushie.

"You read The Good Witch Azura?" Luz rolled her eyes at the question.

"Alright, listen," she started, "Before you make fun of me for it, you should know--"

"I love Azura."

"--It's not the cutesy kids' book that people think...it...is..." Luz looked shocked as she faced Amity's wide grin, "What did you just say?"

"It was my favorite book series growing up," Amity explained, "It still is, today."

"...No shit."

"Yeah! In fact, when I was nine, I wished I could have been just like Azura herself."

"Same!" Luz's smile became just as wide, "The grand adventures? The ability to just get along with everybody she meets? That was the shit for when I just a little tater tot."

"For me, it was how powerful her magic is," Amity confessed, "I could only dream of being as talented as she is."

Chapter 4

Snowball fight

And that's when something cold hit her in the back of the head.

Turning around to find the culprit, Amity saw none other than Luz hiding her laughter behind a hand.

"Did you just do what I think you did?!" Amity asked incredulously.

"Hey, we may be cool now...but I'm gonna take a shot when I see it. Alright?"

Amity glared at that, drawing a spell circle soon after. At the circle's completion, two dozen snowballs began to rise in the air around them, and Luz's face became pale to the sight.

"...On second thought," Luz nervously smiled as she raised her hands in surrender, "Parlay?"

"..."

Amity pointed her finger at Luz, and all of the snowballs immediately knocked the human onto her back.

"I don't think so," Amity quipped, walking over and offering a hand to her friend.

“Drug” deal

"Is that a bad thing?"

"...Eh, probably not," Luz shrugged, "I got the goods in my backpack, by the way. You want me to give it to you now, or wait until after school?"

"t sounds like you have drugs in your backpack with the way you said that."

"Who says that I don't?"

Amity let out a light laugh. Luz didn't even seem shocked anymore.

"I'll wait until after school," Amity said when they got to the double doors, "The last thing I need is the wrong person to find out that I like...you know what."

"Got it," Luz nodded only to then lean closer to whisper, "I'll see then for the transfer. And if you get caught, I was never there."

"Ok, now I got to ask: Are you actually planning to give me drugs after school."

"Of course not!"

Luz winked.

"Drugs are bad, especially for our age."

She winked again.

"I wouldn't ever dream of doing something so vile."

And again.

"...I hate you."

"What else is new?"

"Just give me the book after school, doofus!" Amity said between chuckles.

"Yes. Of course. 'The book.'"

Luz winked for the fourth time, and Amity just pulled the human's beanie over her face in response. The two then laughed as they went their separate ways.

Amity’s jealousy

"Hey, is it ok if I ask you a favor?"

"Depends," Luz blew into her hands for extra warmth, "What's the favor?"

"Well...Skara invited me to a party she's throwing next Friday. And I was wondering if you could come with me."

"Which one is Skara again," Luz asked, "I know she's one of Boscha's lackeys, but I can't remember. Is she the tall and skinny one, the small and cute one, or the hot yet nerdy looking one?"

If she wasn't wearing gloves right now, Amity would wager that her knuckles went white with how tightly her hands gripped the steering wheel.

"You think Cat is hot?"

"Eh. Objectively, yeah," Luz shrugged, "Also, I didn't know her name was Cat. Should probably make a note of that."

"She also has a boyfriend," Amity said a little too quick, "And she's straight as a board. So go ahead and...unnote that. Just take that note and...throw it in a river somewhere."

"...Ok? Weirdo."

"Anyways, Skara is the short and--" Amity steeled herself before saying, "Cute one."

Luz helping Skara

She eventually found herself in a hall that led to bedrooms, only to see Skara sprinting around and picking up discarded beer cans and red solo cups and tossing them into a trash bag. She then opened a random door, squeaked, and slammed it shut, leaning against it while pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Why do that in my parents' bedroom!?" she cried to no one in particular.

Usually, Luz wouldn't give a shit about any of Boscha's lackeys. And yet, something compelled her to walk over.

"Are they making out or doing something worse," she asked, which caused Skara to look up in surprise.

"...What...What are you doing here?"

"Don't question it," Luz nodded to the door, "In there. Are they just making out?"

"...Yes, but it's still--"

Luz pounded on the door, making Skara jump.

"Hey!" she shouted, "That's not your bed, assholes! If you want privacy, then go to the back of your car like decent human beings!"

"We're not humans!"

"Not the point!"

For a while, nothing happened. Then finally, two boys walked out of the room, hand in hand with their clothes ruffled, and started shuffling their way down the hall. Skara just stood where she was, not knowing what to say or do.

"Hey," Luz snapped her fingers to get Skara's attention, "If a person starts acting like a prick, be an even bigger prick. Someone's going to eventually back down, so don't let it be you. They'll get the point, then. Oh, and by the way..."

She pulled the photo out of her jacket's pocket and tossed it to Skara, who then fumbled with the thing before catching it.

"Someone tried to steal that," Luz told her, "I don't know where it belongs so, there you go."

Luz then began to head in the direction of the stairs.

"Thank you."

The broken tone of voice made Luz freeze for a second, turning over her shoulder to see Skara looking at the human, her eyes full of gratitude and amazement.

"...Don't mention it," was all Luz said before walking down the hall to find the stairs.

Literally, everything that Drunk Amity does. But here’s the top five:

#5-Snuggle time

"I hate my life," Luz muttered, shuffling over. She pulled the covers up and slowly got into the bed. But once she did, Amity didn't waste a second wrapping her entire body around Luz's. Like a koala bear, clinging to a tree.

"...Do you mind?" Luz's voice cracked.

"What? I'm sleeping on my side."

"Yeah, but I'd prefer it if you slept on a side that wouldn't result in me getting puked on."

"But how will we snuggle?"

"Oh my god," Luz sighed, "You're not gonna back down from this, are you?"

"Mm-mm."

"...tell you what. If you flip onto your other side, I'll--I can't believe I'm saying this--I'll...spoon...you."

Amity gasped, her eyes practically glittering with stars as she looked up at Luz.

"That's even better," she whispered, untangling herself from Luz's body so she can flip onto her other side, already getting into a position to receive comfort. Luz, slowly and reluctantly, turned over to wrap an arm around Amity, pressing their bodies together.

'This is probably punishment for...every shitty thing I've done in my life," she thought to herself.

#4-Drink it!

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"Drink it."

"No!"

"Drink it!"

"Noooo!" Amity flopped face down onto her pillow as if she was a five-year-old. The bunny-print pajamas that Luz changed her into didn't help, either (it was the minor victories). With one hand, Luz started messaging her temple out of annoyance, while the other hand gripped tight onto a glass of water.

"Amity, if you're gonna lay down like a baby, then lay on your side," she explained, "If you face down, or up, then you'll just drown in your own vomit. And is that how you wanna go out?"

Amity flipped onto her side with a harrumph.

"That's what I thought," Luz held the glass up to Amity again, "Now drink this water."

"I don't wanna," the witch wined, "It doesn't have flavor. It's boring. Give something less boring."

#3-Amity’s love for Emira

"Who are you talking to?"

"Your sister."

"Oh! Hey, Luz," Amity started tapping Luz on the shoulder, "Luz, Luz, Luz, Luz--"

"What?"

"Tell her--Listen--Tell...Emira that she is the worst...and that I don't like her. It's an--Look--It's an inside joke between us. She'll understand it when you tell her."

"...Will do."

"Oh! And Luz,"

"What?" This time, Luz was starting to get aggravated.

"Emira--Don't tell her this part--But Emira is, like, the most important person to me. And Ed too. Sometimes. Because they've both always been there for me when our parents are being bigger dicks than they are. I just don't--Hey--I don't tell them that because then they'll make fun of me for it. So don't-- Shh! Don't tell her."

"...You got all that, right?" Luz asked into the scroll.

"Sure did. What the hell did she drink?"

#2-Tossing cookies

Amity's face suddenly paled. Luz couldn't figure what was wrong at first, at least until she saw Amity lurch.

"Oh, shit," Luz then guided Amity over to the nearest potted plant, "Shit shit shit shit--"

Once at the plant, Amity bent over and...lost her lunch.

"...Are you o--"

And then her breakfast.

"...Are--"

And finally tossed one last cookie for good measure.

"...You good?"

"Yeah," Amity looked up at her victim, which was already starting to wilt, "...This my mom's favorite plant..."

She then slapped it.

"Fuck you, plant!"

And #1...

The good news is that Luz finally found her.

The bad news is that Amity was standing on top of a table as everyone stared at her.

"I am the lesbian queen of the universe!" she shouted, "Y'all can bow down and kiss my ass!"

"Get it, girl!"

"You bet I'll get it, whoever you are! Seriously, who said that?" she called back, turning in a circle to find the source of the voice. However, because of Amity's drunken state, she soon tripped on her own feet and fell off the table. Luckily, Luz was quick to realize that wearing heels and being drunk was a bad combination, so she had already run over to the table, ready to catch Amity.

The green-haired witch landed in Luz's arms, bridal princess style. Luz then set her down, but Amity still wrapped her arms around the human's neck.

"You're my hero," Amity said wistfully.

"Yeah, I'm a real knight in shining--" But Luz didn't get a chance to finish her snarky remark. Because Amity leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss onto Luz's cheek. This caused the human to go still and red-faced, her brain ceasing to function as Amity pulled away with a Mwah!

And on the topic of kisses

Luz remained still for a minute or two, ultimately thinking 'screw it,' and kissed Amity's cheek. It was about a millisecond, maybe even half of that, but it did not stop Luz's face from heating up.

"There. Happy now?"

"Nope," Amity faced Luz with a drunken smile, "Because now it's my turn."

"Wait, no- Mmph!" But it was too late. Because the second after Amity spoke, she leaned in to kiss Luz's cheek, giving Luz no time to even turn her head. Which resulted in Amity giving Luz another wet and sloppy kiss, not on her cheek, but right on her lips.

And perhaps it was just as long as Luz's kiss. Probably even a second longer. But for her, it felt as though time had come to a standstill as Amity's lips were pressed against Luz's. But regardless, Luz didn't pull away. She didn't even shove Amity off, despite having every reason to. In fact, when Amity finally pulled away from the kiss, Luz had this strange desire buried deep within her brain, yet she was still aware of it.

Because despite how weird it would be and how Amity's breath will absolutely taste awful, Luz felt a strange desire to kiss her friend again.

Chapter 6

The morning after

Curious, Amity looked over her shoulder to see the culprit.

'Oh, it's just Luz," she thought, slowly turning back over.

...

Amity's eyes popped open.

She whipped her head back to look over her shoulder, which was a mistake because the sudden rush made her hangover say, 'screw you,' and leave Amity with a ton of pain. Once it slowly wore off (or, at least, became a bit more bearable), Amity got a good look at the person behind her. And what she saw both warmed her heart, as well as stopped it.

Luz. Sleeping in Amity's bed. Pressed up against the witch and peacefully smiling as she dreamed.

This left a myriad of thoughts in Amity's head.

'Luz is in my bed.'

'Luz is in my bed, and she's spooning me.'

'...I need to wake her.'

But just as she was about to wake her friend, Luz, in her sleep, then shuffled herself further against Amity. Her sleepy smile had grown wider.

'...And I am dead. I am dead, have ascended the stars, and this now my life for eternity.'

Huge misunderstanding

Luz remained still, glancing between Amity's eyes and her lips. Ultimately, she closed the distance between them and kissed her.

And kissed her again.

And again.

It felt so amazing, with each kiss sending a wave of euphoric energy through Luz's body. It was everything she didn't know she wanted.

"Luz?" Amity gasped.

"Hm?"

"Are you awake right now?"

"Mm-hm," Luz mumbled as she continued to kiss Amity's sweet, soft, hairy--

'Hairy?'

***

Luz peaked open her eyes, and instead of seeing Amity's face, all she saw was bright green. Remembering where she was, Luz's eyes became wide once she took in the fact of what she just did.

"mmBAAAAAAAH!" Luz shrieked, pushing herself to the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, she pushed a little too far and ended up falling off the bed entirely, face-planting onto the floor.

Luz’s hairball

It was Luz's turn to get up as she walked over to the pile of her clothes on the desk.

"Just let me change first and--" She coughed, "--And I--"

Suddenly Luz was coughing severely, her face going red from lack of air.

"Luz?"

"What's wrong?!"

While coughing, Luz pointed at her throat.

"She's choking!" Viney deduced, "Hang on, I got this!"

She ran over and went behind Luz. Placing the thumb side of her fist over the human's abdomen and placing a hand over said fist, Viney began performing the Heimlich maneuver. After a few thrusts, Luz finally coughed out what was obstructing her throat. Once she could breathe again, she got a look at what nearly killed her. Only to see a clump of wet, green hair on the floor.

"...Is that--"

"Anyways, I'm gonna go ahead and change!" Luz squeaked quickly, grabbing her clothes off the desk and dashing into the closet. Viney and Emira looked over at Amity, who, red as a tomato, pulled the covers over her head.

Amity explaining why she likes Luz...which goes on for a good chunk of the chapter and it would be ludicrous for me to paste it onto here. But trust me. It’s a great moment

Chapter 7

Pastor Benson’s sermon and Luz’s prayor

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the world is constantly changing," Pastor Benson began his sermon. "For every day, new lifestyles and ways of loving others are introduced and integrated into our society. Just the other day, I was given a chance to experience this first hand."

That caught Luz's interest for a moment.

"You see, my nephew gathered the whole family, everybody that he trusted, and did something none of us could have ever expected. He told us all that he was a homosexual."

Immediately everybody started murmuring with each other. And Luz had to admit, she was more than curious to see where Benson was going with this.

"I know, I know," he silenced the crowd, "I was surprised too. And as he continued, both he and his boyfriend, which was another shock to find out, started telling us all about what it means to be what they are. They explained what they considered the basics, answered questions, and soon enough, Micheal's parents stood up to give him a hug, and everyone else took turns letting him know that he is loved."

Now Luz was really interested.

"Later, I took Micheal aside so I can have a heart to heart with him," Pastor Benson pressed on, "I said to him that he is my nephew and that I will always love him. And no matter what, God will love him too, like all of his children."

For the first time in her life, Luz hung onto every word that a pastor said.

"But sin is still a sin, and I said that it's not too late to save his soul."

'There it is,' Luz thought, slumping into her seat and hoping that her mom didn't notice her reaction. Pastor Benson continued his sermon, but Luz mentally checked out, not caring about what he has to say next. It didn't matter if Benson told the secrets to the universe or the meaning of life. Because of what he said, Luz tuned him out for the next few minutes, stirring in a pissed-off mood she genuinely tried to keep out of church.

"--Now, I would ask you all to join me in prayer before we bring this congregation to a close," Luz heard Pastor Benson say fifteen minutes later. Everyone then simultaneously lowered their heads to pray, with Luz right along with them.

'Dear God,' she prayed, 'If you could be so kind, could you send down an angel or your son or something to tell all these homophobes that being gay isn't a sin. And the only reason why people think that's true is that some dickhead mistranslated a line somewhere. A translation, by the way, that was meant to tell people that pedophilia is awful. Something that some of your own pastors should learn from time to time.

'Because if you could send someone down to get the record straight, I, and many others, would really appreciate it...also sorry for swearing while during prayer. That wasn't cool of me. Bless my mom, and praise be to you.'

Camila and Claire

"If you ask me, that was crossing way over the line."

Camila looked over to her friend Claire, who stood with her as they waited in line at a makeshift buffet table to grab breakfast.

"Are you talking about Pastor Benson or his nephew?" Camila couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, absolutely, it's Benson," Claire whispered so as not to draw attention amongst the chatter, "I mean, here you have a kid who was in a safe space and just wanted to be accepted, only to have your uncle basically say you're going to hell. The man might as well have punched poor Micheal in the gut."

"Aye, I am so happy that you said that," Camila grabbed two plates for herself and Luz, who sat at a table for them. "I understand that he's a person of the lord, but that's taking belief a little too far. I believe in God, and I love him with my whole heart, but I would never say anything like that to Luz. If she was gay, that is."

"I'm right there with you," Claire nodded as she piled food onto her own two plates, "I have five kids. Two of them moved out with relationships of their own. But if my other three ever come to me and say that they're gay, then the last thing I'd do is make them feel ashamed of it."

"Right? I always make it clear to Luz that she can tell me anything. Especially if it's something like that."

Mrs. Kranstien calling Camila a gringa

"As I said, keep an eye on her. For both of your sakes," the gossiper said as she turned to walk in her own direction, "Adios, gringa."

Camila did a double-take.

'Did she just...No,' she shook her head, 'No. She couldn't have.'

Amity’s reaction

"...So we're just going to be spending some time waiting...alone...in a big house with nobody else around?"

"...Basically, yeah," Luz shrugged, "See you then. Oh! By the way, and I know it goes without saying, but try to do something that hides those ears. Because the last thing I need to do is explain why my new friend looks like an elf from Lord of the Rings."

With that, Luz hung up, leaving Amity to sit still as a statue at her desk. Eventually, she slowly dragged her diary over, picked up a pencil, and began to calmly write.

So Luz, literally right now, just asked me to come over to hang out at her house, completely unsupervised, as we wait to have dinner with her mom. Current mood: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Chapter 8

Boscha’s rage

"You little jackass!"

Luz turned away from her locker to see Boscha stomping over. It was the end of the school day, and Luz was already beyond stressed about having Amity over to her house. The last thing that anyone needs, least of all her, is to deal with Boscha's bullshit.

"Little?" Luz said with an annoyed tilt to her head. "Bitch, I am absolutely taller than you!"

"Not the point!" Boscha yelled once she finally got up to Luz, "Because here's the thing: You draw on my face, I'll be annoyed. You rip my scroll in half, I'll be pissed off. But make people think I have a crush on FUCKING, Matt!? That is something I should kill you for!"

"...I didn't draw on your face."

"YOU--" But Boscha stopped herself to take a deep, calming breath before looking back at Luz with murder in her eyes, "That slimy, greasy, weasely little weasel has been hitting on me ALL DAY! And it's all because of you posting on social media that I like him. I mean, what the FUCK did I do to deserve that?!"

"...Do you really want me to answer that?"

Misunderstanding

"Hey."

Hesitantly, Amity glanced over at Luz again. Who had put her full attention into the girl in front of her.

"Do you wanna make out?"

"WHAT?!"

Luz jumped at Amity's screech.

"...I said, ‘do you want take out?’" she repeated, lifting up her phone, "My mom just said she's going to be a while and isn't in a cooking mood. So she wants to know if you're cool if she picks up some chimichurri sandwiches on the way home."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's fine," Amity could feel her face grow hotter by the second.

"Ok?" Luz texted a reply to her mom, "...What did you think I said, anyway?"

"..."

"It must have been something bad to make you react as if I called you the c-word."

"...So this movie is interesting!" Suddenly, all Amity's attention went to the tee-vee, "My favorite character would have to be that, uh, that girl with the...dyed hair and...giant hammer--What did you say this movie is called again?"

Luz opened her mouth to say something, but a small ping! from her phone distracted her for a bit.

"My mom wants to know if you have any allergies," she said.

"I do not."

"Got it," Luz sent her reply, "Now, as for what you thought I said--"

"Table it for later."

'So I can have time to think of a proper excuse.'

"...Alright."

Luz went back to watching the movie for another minute, looked at her wrist for some reason, and then stared right back at Amity.

"It's now later."

"Luz--"

"Look, if it's something embarrassing, don't worry about it," Luz waved off her friend's concern, "Your brain just misinterpreted what I said. It's no big deal. I'm just wondering what you thought I asked that got you all hot and bothered."

'She called me hot--FOCUS!'

"You really won't judge?" Amity asked for clarification.

"Can't be any more embarrassing than what I did on Saturday."

'I guess that's true.'

"Well," Amity nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, "I thought that...that you asked if...I wanted to...make...out..."

She glanced over, and, sure enough, a blush was beginning to form on Luz's cheeks.

"...Oh," the human said.

"But it's like you said!" Amity quickly exclaimed, "My brain just misinterpreted the words! It's not like you would ever ask me to do that, right?"

"...Of course not."

"...You hesitated?"

"Hm?"

"I said that you would never ask me to do that, and you hesitated when saying no. Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

"Pretty sure I didn't."

"Well, I'm definitely sure that you did."

"Well, if I did, then that's because, um..."

"...Because, um, what?"

"..."

"...So this movie, huh?" Luz looked back at the screen, "It's, uh, Scott Pilgrim, by the way. Just to answer your question...from earlier...about what movie this is..."

And thus came the thickest, most awkward silence between them. Understandably enough, Luz now had no problems with sitting as far away from Amity as possible.

"...How long until your mom gets home, again?"

"Should be another two hours."

"Damn it."

"Yeah."

Baby pictures

"Actually, I do have a photo of that day in an album somewhere," Camila added, "I could go find it and prove to you how innocent Luz was."

Now Luz's face went pale as Amity's brightened with glee.

"No, she doesn't!"

"Yes, I do!"

The poor human glared at the rich girl.

"No. You don't."

"Yes. I do."

"Right then," Camila finished her sandwich and got out of her seat, "You two sit tight. I'm going to go find that album."

Once her mother was out of the room, Luz scooched over to Amity with murder in her eyes.

"I would like to point out that you still owe me, like, five more favors from what happened last Friday," she whispered-growled, "So I would like to cash in one of them for you to not look at my baby pictures."

"And I would like to point out that you saw me at my lowest last Friday," Amity said with a smarmy smile, "Which means I'm at least owed some middle ground."

"...I hate you."

"Sure you do."

Gravity Falls reference

'There's that weird feeling again,' she thought as a tingling sensation formed throughout her gut. It wasn't the first time that day when Luz felt this.

She felt it when seeing Amity's human ears, when Amity admitted that she always wanted to be friendly, and especially when Amity thought Luz wanted to make out.

'...Wait...do I--'

Luz shook her head.

"No, no, no no no," she said to herself, "There's no way. There's just no way! I'm sure this is just some...indirect way of Boscha's words getting to your brain."

Luz turned around to go back inside.

"By tomorrow, you'll laugh about how ridiculous a thought like that is."

At Midnight.

Ever since turning in at nine, Luz could not for the life of her go to sleep.

Why?

Because her head was filled with nothing but thoughts of golden eyes, wild green hair, and a smirk that became all the more attractive, the more she thought about it.

"...Goddammit."

Chapter 9

Skara’s advice

"In that case, as her best friend, I have to tell that she will destroy you."

"Whatever."

"And as her best friend, I probably shouldn't tell you to go for any of her weak spots."

"..." Luz shared a curious look with Gus and Willow, who shrugged. "What weak spots?"

"Well, as her best friend, I shouldn't tell you that Boscha suffered a lot of injuries from playing grudgby," Skara explained, "Like the fact that her right arm hasn't healed right and she prefers punching with her left. Or the fact that she's still recovering from breaking her left leg and that if you kick the back of it hard enough, she'll crumble."

"...It's too bad that you didn't say any of that," Luz played along, "Because that would all be incredibly useful. And I would have to ask why you would tell me that in the first place."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I did tell you all of that--which I didn't--it would probably be because I'm still a little mad that she destroyed my house for the sake of getting Amity back. And that I'm just as sick as you are that Boscha wastes so much time trying to win back a girl that is clearly not interested."

"In that case, I really hate that you didn't tell me any of that stuff. Because then I would have thanked you for the advice."

"And I would have said, 'You're welcome,'" Skara looked left, right, and hugged Luz for a fraction of a second to then scamper off to who knows where.

The first hit

"Uh-huh...I don't know what that means, so here's a question: What happens when I break that oath?"

"Oh, trust me, you won't break it. Now, are you ready to eat dirt, human?"

"Born ready," Luz said, regaining her confidence, "In fact, you can have the first punch."

Boscha raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You sure you want that?"

"Of course. That is unless you're too scared of breaking a nail--"

SMACK!

The entire stadium went 'Ooooh,' due to Boscha sucker-punching Luz so hard that the human immediately went down and into the dirt. Needless to say, Luz was very much awake now.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She shouted as she slowly stood up, nursing the now bruising cheek that Boscha hit. "What the shit do they feed you rich girls?! Also, what happened to no hitting the face?! That was my face! You said no hitting the face!"

"Oh, no, I meant my face," Boscha reiterated, "My face is off-limits. Yours is free real estate."

Adrenaline rush

While Boscha was distracted by that, Luz looked over at her own friends.

Willow scowled with her fists clenched, looking like she was about ready to jump in to kick Boscha's ass for Luz.

Gus was cheering for Luz to get up. At least, she thinks that's what he was doing. A sudden ringing in Luz's ear currently made it hard to decipher what anybody was saying if they weren't close enough.

And then there was Amity, who held Luz's jacket tight to her heart, eyes wide and complexion pale.

That's when it hit Luz: If she loses, she'll be forced by some magic bullshit to never see Amity again. All these weeks of getting close and building...whatever the hell their relationship is building towards would have been for nothing. Worse yet, Amity will be left with Boscha, who would treat the green-haired witch with as much dignity and respect as Boscha treats her friends.

It was the mix of fear and anger from that thought that gave Luz just enough adrenaline she needed to turn towards Boscha and kicked her hard in the left leg.

Goodnight

"Cool. Hey, mom?"

"Yes, mija?"

"If a person asks you to have lunch with them, just the two of you, what would you think that means?"

"I assume that means a person wants to date you."

"Cool. Anyways, I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight."

"You’re what?"

THWUMP!

Startled by the noise, Camila turned around to see that Luz had fallen face-first onto the living room floor.

"...Luz?"

"Hm?" Luz mumbled.

"Are you ok?"

"Mm-hm."

Chapter 10

Earmuffs

"Hi, Luz! Question: Me being a male cheerleader. Yay or nay?"

"I think it's absolutely a 'yay,' but we can talk about that later," Luz said as she sat down, "For right now: Earmuffs."

"Aw, what?" Gus whined, "C'mon!"

"No complaining. Earmuffs."

"But I'm younger than you two by two years. I can totally handle grown-up talk."

"Earmuffs!"

Gus groaned, reluctantly covering his ears, closing his eyes, and humming to himself to further block out any noise.

Assumptions

"I don't give a shit that you're dating her." Willow said plainly.

"You see--Wha-wha-wha-wha-What? What? I'm sorry, what? Just...Fucking what?!" Luz exclaimed, completely caught off guard.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Willow continued, "I would much rather see you date almost anybody else in this school. But if--for whatever reason--Amity is the person you really want to be with, I won't say anything about it. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who am I to judge?"

"...We're not dating."

Willow blinked.

"You're not?"

"No."

"...You're not?!"

Spray Bottle

Then suddenly, bits of water started spritzing onto her face. Looking over, Amity saw that it was because Viney was using a spray bottle on her.

"Bad," she said between spritzes, "Bad Blight."

"What the hell?!" Amity hissed, "Why do you even have that?!"

"I take Beast Keeping," Viney explained as she pocketed her spray bottle, "It comes in handy, so I just keep it on me at all times. Now, back to your dumbassery..."

"Hey, try to look at this from my point of view, alright?" the younger witch growled, "You never had to deal with Luz and her dumb smirk or her...cute round ears and those...those gorgeous brown eyes that are so warm and soft and make you feel all ooey-gooey like a warm chocolate cookie and--"

Viney started spritzing Amity again.

"GAH! Sorry," Amity said, snapping out of it.

And that’s about it. Thank you all so much for reading this story for this long, and a very special thank you to @drabbles-of-writing for letting me write this story in the first place. Now if you don’t excuse me, I’ve got school shit to work on.

#the owl house #beta lumity #it all started with a jacket #cw: swearing

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if-found-return-to-gusu · 4 years ago

Text

The Fire

First off I want to say that I visited Wang LingJiao a little while ago and she told me it was okay to write about this. This is her story as much as mine, really.

She’s doing okay by the way. She got caught up in the initial blast but I managed to get her to safety before any super serious damage happened to her. Her broken arm is healing nicely and said thanks to me there should only be very minimal scarring on her leg.

She… is not someone I thought I would get this close to. Our personalities don’t really mesh well and she’s rather abrasive when she’s not being sickeningly cutesy. And really at first we didn’t get along at all.

She was dating a Wen. Wen Chao. So, I know what you’re probably thinking. “But Wei Ying! The Wens are good people! They took you in and took care of you!”

Yes this is true. So like the Wen family, on the whole, is terrible. Basically they’re a big crime family. They’ve got their hands in everything. Like think the actual mafia. But no one can ever pin anything on them because they have judges and lawyers and police in their pocket and blah blah blah. And they always scare people out of testifying against them through threats and shit.

I mean you’ll never find anything on paper, but everyone knows it anyway. Just a common fact of life. You don’t fuck with the Wens.

Well the Wens that I love are technically related to that main family, but they’re an off-shoot. They branched out to live the quiet life and are wholly uninvolved with the main family. It’s part of why they’re struggling. They get all the stigma of the Wen name without any of the protection or support of the main Wen family.

Wen Qing is amazing though. She scraped together a medical career and uses it to help as many people as she can. I think it’s her way of trying to make up for her cousins’ sins. Like that’s her job to do. But even beyond that she just likes to help people. She’s got a sharp tongue but underneath it all Wen Qing is one of the kindest people I’ve ever met.

Anyway. Main Wen Clan = Bad, MY Wens = Good! And my Wens =/= Main Wen Clan.

So Wen Chao. He’s a piece of work. To put it simply. He’s the son of the head of the family and is just as much of a dick as you’d expect. He and A-Jiao were dating for a while and I guess she broke it off? Lady’s got balls of steel because, as she’s intimated to me since then, when you date Wen Chao you wait for him to break up with you. NEVER the other way around.

She’d been half in hiding when I met her, which is why she moved into our shitty apartment complex. At first nothing came of it. I knew about her and had spoken once or twice. Enough to know that she was kinda bitchy and that I wasn’t really interested in getting to ‘know her better’ as she put it. (That is I was never interested in that to begin with and she was apparently a bit put out that I didn’t respond to her flirting? I didn’t know she was flirting but whatever I guess.)

Either way. No chemistry. Not interested in being friends. Whatever. She left me to my business most of the time so I just left her alone. But one day I heard a scream coming from her apartment followed by the sounds of banging and scuffling. We weren’t exactly close, but I wasn’t gonna just not see what was going on?

I rushed over and knocked on her door. I don’t think I even remembered her name at that point. There was another yelp and it sounded like she’d been thrown against something. It was quiet then so I tried the door and knocked again when I found it was locked.

There was the sound of low voices and then after another moment she opened the door. I could tell she’d tried to put herself back together. I could see where her mascara had been wiped away from where it’d been running down her cheek, creating a dark shadow over the bruise that was starting to show already. Her lip had been bitten and I could see blood at the corner. Her hair was a mess.

She snapped at me to go away. Said she had it under control.

I.. didn’t even think. I should have called the cops but what would they have done? And I didn’t have a phone on me anyway.

I just.. Pushed her back and forced my way inside, putting me between her and whoever it was that was in the apartment. Turns out Wen Chao came in person with one of his goons. What an honor.

I know she was yelling at me. Telling me this was none of my business. But she was scared and hurt and I wasn’t gonna stand by and do nothing.

The rest… was a bit of a blur. I grabbed something. A bat? Yeah I think. She has one that she keeps by the door in case she needs to beat up an intruder. I must have grabbed that. Wen Chao stood back at first. I managed to take out the goon and…

Listening to A-Jiao’s testimony, apparently I ended up wrestling a gun away from Wen Chao. I remember holding it. Pointing it at him.

I almost pulled the trigger… I wanted to… I was so close… But.. she put her hand on my arm.. And for a moment.

This is ridiculous but I saw my Shijie in her. Telling me that it was enough. To put the gun down.

A-Jiao...Jiao-Jie she told me to call her after all we’ve been through. She’s nothing like Shijie… but….

My family keeps growing in the strangest ways, doesn’t it?

She told me to put the gun down and I did. Wen Chao ran off, promising it wouldn’t be the last we’d see of them.

I was shaking. I couldn’t let go of the gun even though it was pointed at the floor now.

I almost killed someone. Even if it was someone like Wen Chao.

That… that anger… the resentment… it scared me. I was really going to kill him. Someone I’d never even met before. It still scares me.

In the end it was the gun that helped us win the case. Jiao-Jie and I talked for a long time after that and after she stopped yelling at me for ‘making things worse’ she was willing to listen to what I had to say.

She said that if I’d left things alone he would have just hit her until he got bored and left.

I maintained that

How long until he got bored?

How does she know he wouldn’t come back?

How badly did she think she was gonna get hurt before he was satisfied?

Besides I can’t just sit there when someone’s getting hurt. I can’t.

So I told her this way we could press charges. Get her some real protection. We ended up doing a lot of research into the legal system. Went through a lot of people to find some lawyers we could trust. Some that we didn’t think would get bought. Wen Qing helped a lot. She wasn’t a part of the main family anymore but she still had a lot of valuable insight. I took Jiao-Jie to see her and get patched up.

We worked together to build a case against him. Since I didn’t have a family for him to threaten and wasn’t scared of physical violence against myself he couldn’t scare me off.

There was no reason for him to think I was connected to his cousin either so they were safe. (Wen Chao, it turns out, is not the brightest bulb)

I kept most of this quiet because of obvious reasons until the trial. In the end we won. I’d turned the gun in to evidence and there were pictures of my injuries and Jiao-Jie’s as well as our testimonies as evidence. They tried to scare me off a few times but I still showed up.

Actually I’m pretty sure them trying to scare me off is why I got stabbed that one time but I can’t prove it.

But anyway.

Anyway

It feels like we were working on this case for a million years. But we won. We managed to win the case!

I mean it was little more than a slap on the wrist for him, but still! We beat a Wen! In the end his father posted his bail and got his sentence reduced. But the restraining order stuck. He wasn’t allowed to come anywhere near Jiao-Jie or contact her.

For all the good it did.

It was late when I heard the first boom. An explosion went off. Loud enough to make my ears ring. I heard a scream and it was so similar to that first night but so different. And then the smell of smoke and the sound of rubble and the faint screeching of an alarm as things collapsed. I ran out to her door. I remember having to smash it open. My hearing came back about then. I could hear the screaming of the fire alarm then and the roar of the fire. How could there be so much so quickly?

I remember calling for her. Where was she? I remember hoping against hope that she was out celebrating with her friends or something. But no. There. She was stuck with her arm pinned under something. Some large piece of furniture. I was almost to her when the sound of another explosion going off shook our world again. A bookshelf fell forward and I just managed to block it with my own body before it fell on her. It would have fallen on her head and she was trapped. She couldn’t have gotten away.

I don’t know how I got out of that. I know that’s probably when my hair caught fire. I remember her reaching up to try to push the bookshelf off of me and pat out the flames all at once. It hurt so bad. But I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t leave her there.

She was coughing and yelling at me to get out. But I wouldn’t. How could I? I remember she managed to leverage her legs over against the bookshelf and together we managed to shift it over. Books falling all around us like little fireballs. Catching the rug and blankets and whatever else.

We kicked the bookshelf aside and I remember having to find a board or something to help lift the thing on her arm. What even was it? I can’t remember. I just know it was heavy and too hot to hold. I levered it up and got her arm out.

We hung onto each other and managed to pull each other out of the flaming apartments. Found out later…

I was saved by a fluke. The bombs were supposed to go off at the same time. I was… it was right where I was sitting. It almost guaranteed would have killed me if I hadn’t gone to check on Jiao-Jie.

Well, Madam Yu always did say I was gonna get myself killed sticking my nose in other people’s business. Guess she was right.

But I got lucky this time. I’ll have some scarring on my chest and shoulder. A little behind my ear where my hair caught. But it could have been so much worse.

By the time we got out I could hear the sound of sirens in the distance, difficult over the roaring of flames still in my ears. I managed to pass Jiao-Jie to someone before I fell over. I think someone caught me. No idea who.

I was in a bit of a daze for a while. I remember someone starting to look at me. I told them I was fine and to look at my neighbor first. She was much worse off.

Someone was talking about a hospital. Can’t afford a hospital, was all I could think. Then I thought… Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan would help.

It was almost morning. I started to walk. I managed to slip past everyone in the commotion and just kept walking. I had my phone and keys in my pocket - I’d never bothered to change that night so I was at least not wearing pajamas. It was so early there was hardly anyone around to gasp at me. I must have looked monstrous.

One foot. Then another.

Step.

Step…

I don’t know how long it took me to get there. It seemed to take years and no time at all. I don’t... Know what was going through my head. Clearly I was still in shock and should have stayed where I was but. Well. I’m an idiot.

I remember seeing that there were people in the cafe. I didn’t want to bother anyone. I just wanted to hide. I just wanted Lan Zhan.

I snuck into his apartment to wait. The apartment was safe. Lan Zhan was safe.

Lan Zhan helped me before. Lan Zhan could help me now.

I realize now that I never should have put this on him.

It really wasn’t fair to him.

I know I hid. I don’t..really know why. There’s a space in the livingroom. Between the couch and the wall.

I think… I think I didn’t want to disturb him. If he came up while he was working. I didn’t want to bother him.

I’d forgotten I was supposed to be working myself. Not that I was in any state to. Apparently he’d been looking for his phone to call me. He’d tried from the cafe’s phone and I didn’t hear it go off.

Didn’t hear it go off when he called me from his cell either but apparently that’s how he found me. I don’t know how long he’d been calling my name.

I finally snapped out of it when I heard something about an ambulance. I think it connected back to where I was after the fire. No hospital. No ambulance.

I grabbed his wrist, trying weakly to pull his phone away from his ear even though he hadn’t even started to dial yet.

“No hospital. Lan Zhan.”

I was asking for him, not realizing he was the one I was talking to yet. It only lasted a second but it was so jarring. Lan Zhan. I was begging for Lan Zhan but there he was. I don’t think he even registered that I was asking for him.

I repeated myself though. Not the hospital. I didn’t want to leave him. Lan Zhan was safe. Lan Zhan is home. I couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from him. I was pleading to him to let me stay, though all I could manage to say was that. He looked so lost. So worried. But he nodded. And he agreed. No hospitals.

I threw myself at him. I don’t know if I was able to feel pain at that point or if I was just in so much pain that a little more didn’t register. I remember him trying to be careful as he held me back. I know he didn’t want to hurt me more. I must have smelled like ash and cinder. But he didn’t complain. He just buried his face in my charred off hair and let me sob on him.

I… don’t really know how long I was holding on to him but suddenly Shijie was there. Had he called to her? I hadn’t heard. Or maybe he managed to text her. I wasn’t paying attention. I was just trying to breathe. To smell anything other than smoke. To take comfort in his arms.

Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan is home. Lan Zhan.

She asked what happened. Lan Zhan said there must have been a fire.

Just thinking about it. I started shaking again. Maybe I’d never stopped? I’m better now but fire still puts me a bit on edge. I gotta get over it but I’m taking it slow.

I remember the two of them trying to get me to let go. Let go of Lan Zhan. Unacceptable. Impossible. No no no.

But eventually I realized it wasn’t to take him away but just to move me to Shijie instead.

That… that I could do. I’ve cried in her arms more than she deserves but what was one more I guess? And she wanted to hold me. She told me so. And Shijie only tells me the honest truth. So who am I to deny her anything?

But then she said something to him and he left.

He left he left. I panicked because Lan Zhan. My safety.

But Shijie was there. And she managed to calm me again with soft words that I don’t think I fully heard. But the sound of her voice. Her hand so careful on the bits of me that weren’t raw and burned.

Eventually I calmed down enough to let go. Shiji lamented the loss of my beautiful hair as she gently cleaned up some of the worst of my burns. We couldn’t just leave them untreated,she’d said. I didn’t care just then but I didn’t say no when she offered to trim it up for me. In the end we had to crop it short. The fire hadn’t gone quite to my scalp but it had burned my ear.

Shijie… I didn’t really look, couldn’t get myself, until much much later. But she did a pretty good job. I don’t think I’ve ever had hair this short and I don’t think I’d ever willingly do it again, but to her credit she did a great job. For what it is. It’s still so weird to run my fingers through it though and have it just… end.

She was almost done when Wen Qing arrived. Apparently Lan Zhan had called her and she had brought Wen Ning and A-Yuan with her so that Lan Zhan could come back to me.

Aaahh Wen Qing. I love you, you glorious woman.

Shijie took the soft towel she’d draped around me and they peeled off the remnants of what used to be my shirt and pants off so Wen Qing could look me over.

I was lucky. Mostly it was 1st and 2nd degree burns. A little bit on my chest was 3rd but it was small enough that we didn’t have to worry about skin grafts or anything serious like that. All in all we needed to keep it clean and bandaged and I would heal in a matter of weeks.

And with Wen Qing’s treatment and Lan Zhan’s care I did heal. The worst of the scarring is over my heart. A brand I’ll carry for life.

But that’s okay. It’s a sign that I protected someone. I earned that scar and managed to save Jiao-Jie. I’ll wear that proudly until I die.

I remember Wen Qing was telling us some care instructions. Wisely she told them to Lan Zhan because fuck if I was gonna remember.

Lan Zhan… I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him for long. He looked so worried and serious as he listened to the instructions, nodding as he understood.

Eventually the two of them left. I know at some point Shijie called Jiang Cheng to tell him what happened. I got a phone call from him later asking about me in his gruff way of being concerned. It was good to hear his voice.

For the rest of that night I stayed by Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is safe and that’s the idea that stuck in my mind. And bless him he let me.

He made salads for us to eat that night so that he wouldn’t have to use the stove or oven. Was he wary about them too? Or did he just know that I was? Probably the latter. He’s so.. Good.

I think… at some point I fell asleep on him. You know. Like old times. I leaned against him on the couch and the next thing I was aware he was gently nudging me awake so he could change the bandages. I was confused at first. Where had the sun gone? I didn’t remember falling asleep. He seemed sorry to wake me but he was right. Wen Qing had said to change the bandages before bed and in the morning. At the very least.

So I grumbled and let him help me remove the shirt of his I’d borrowed.

You know… since all my clothes were lost to a fiery inferno.

I started thinking about that as he started undoing the bandages to rub ointment on my burns.

So many people are without homes now. Half that building burned down. And the rest isn’t structurally sound now. All because some ass hole couldn’t take being dumped?

Because I couldn’t stay out of other people’s business.

But… there has to be a line, right? The Wens are all powerful because people are afraid of this shit. But we won once, right? So who’s to say someone couldn’t win again? And maybe even with something bigger. Because we showed them they can’t just do whatever they want. There are consequences.

But.. there are consequences to those consequences. And more pain. And more victims.

My thoughts were beginning to spiral again. But every time they did, I heard Lan Zhan’s voice. Telling me it was okay. That I was safe. And it brought me back.

I was safe. I was with Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is safe. Lan Zhan is home.

Over and over in my heart. Lan Zhan.

He asked me to turn around but all I could concentrate on was the feeling of his hand on my waist. I held it, pulled it around me. I would turn. In a minute. But for now I needed him. I needed Lan Zhan. I needed to feel my home around me. I’d lost one home. And then another. But I wasn’t going to let anything take this home from me. My Lan Zhan.

He asked me to let him treat my chest after a while - the worst of my injuries. I nodded and slowly turned. Somehow I’d managed to get on his lap. Had I done that? Or had he?

I know it probably wasn’t helpful, but I held on to his neck while he worked. I could feel his pulse under my fingers and it was so important. That pulse.

I was the one who’d almost died but somehow all I could think about was the fear of losing him. What if it was him they’d gone after instead? What if… what if…

If I ever lost him… I don’t know what I’d….

I can’t think about it.

He wrapped me up in clean bandages that Wen Qing had provided. But his hands didn’t leave… he smoothed them flat with such a gentle touch and then…

I watched him lean forward. He pressed a kiss over the burn on my chest. Over my heart. I could barely feel it, he was so gentle, but it burned in an altogether much more pleasant kind of way. I watched him move, completely transfixed. I couldn’t look away. And when he looked up again.

His eyes caught mine. He was so close. I could feel his breath on my lips.

I didn’t even think about it. I surged forward and closed the distance.

Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan.

I kissed him with everything I had and he was kissing me back.

The world melted away and all I could feel was him. I couldn’t smell the smoke. I couldn’t feel the fire. I just knew him.

My world narrowed down into the touch of his hands and the feeling of his mouth opening against mine. The sound of my name spoken against my lips. So soft. Yet rough. Raw. Perfect.

I was lost.

I remember shifting with each leg on either side of him. I just needed to be closer. In any way closer. To let this light feeling chase out the rest of the fires that licked the back of my mind still.

And he made this.. This SOUND.

Dear god.

Fuck.

He kissed me harder and I couldn’t find a way to keep my hands still. I clutched at him His hair. His shoulder. His hip. His back. I just needed him closer to me.

And then I was on my back, Lan Zhan pressed so close against me.

It wasn’t until I felt the sting of my burns rubbing against the bandages that I snapped back to reality.

When I realized how wrong what I was doing was.

I’d just lost everything. I’d lost my home and everything I owned (well almost everything. I had some stuff at Lan Zhan’s but that’s neither here nor there).

I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I was hurt and scared and desperate. And I used that to get him to kiss me.

I didn’t do that intentionally, true, but what was he going to do? Push me away? Tell me no?

Lan Zhan is so good. And if that’s what he thought I needed…. He’d give that to me even if it wasn’t something he wanted.

It was selfish. It was manipulative. It was wrong. I was wrong.

And what’s worse…

What’s worse.

He regretted it. Immediately. Worse than any burn I’d received I think… my heart truly broke when he pulled away from me.

“Sorry. Sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

Fuck. I can hear it so clearly even now. He shouldn’t have. Even though I’m the one that manipulated him he was the one saying sorry.

I pushed away from him as fast as I could. He mentioned something about my wounds and I just said it was fine.

How could they hurt compared to what else I was feeling. The shame. The mortification.

And even then.

Even then.

All I wanted to do was kiss him again.

I ran away then. To the guest room. I think I said goodnight. Said I was tired. And I ran.

I couldn’t trust myself around him right then. I couldn’t trust I wouldn’t try to throw myself at him again.

Because I’d had a taste and now it’s all I can think about. Every time I’m with him, alone or otherwise. I remember the feeling of his lips on mine. The taste of his skin. The feeling of his hair under my fingertips. His heart beating against mine.

I shake with the memory. I..

Uugh…

So I ran. Because that’s all I know how to do. I hadn’t used that guest room in forever. We always just share his room. We’re both more comfortable that way. And… well maybe that was selfish of me too. Tricking him into sharing things platonically with me when they’re anything but platonic on my end.

How many things would he have done differently if he knew how I felt about him? Is it wrong? Tricking him this way? Would he push me away if he knew?

We talked the next day. I told him.. That the kiss was nothing. It was just a rush of emotion from the fire. That it didn’t have to change anything between us.

He agreed.

And my heart broke again.

But even so.. I don’t know… what would I have done if he’d said no? That he wanted it to mean something? That he wanted to kiss me again?

I… I hope I’d have pushed him away. I.. I hope I would have been strong enough.

Because… Ugh this is complicated.

But in this situation. He couldn’t have possibly consented. And neither could I. There’s too many high emotions and extenuating circumstances.

Neither of us could truly say that those outside factors didn’t affect things.

Because they did. They do.

I have nowhere else to go. I’m completely dependent on him. He’s provided my job and my home until I get things figured out on my own. And he already knows that I’m in emotional turmoil. He’s already dealt with me trying not to shut down from an emotional blow just a month ago. And to be honest, I’m not 100% recovered from that either.

So how can he say no if I asked him to date me? To kiss me? Does he risk me falling into that pit again?

Of course not.

So I can’t trust that it’d be something he really wanted. Not like this.

And so it’s good, really, that he agreed we were still just friends. That the kiss was only that. Just a kiss. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The heat of the moment.

And it didn’t change anything.

I know that it’s good that he agreed. That it’s the only answer I could accept. But…

It hurt. It hurt so bad.

I still shake with that pain. My burns are healed and the bandages are gone. My skin is a bit tender but even that will fade.

But that pain. Of having tasted what I could have had and having to turn away from it.

And. And I want to clarify. HE didn’t hurt me. I did it to myself. Lan Zhan would never hurt me. Could never hurt me. It wasn’t him. It was me.

I broke my own heart.

We agreed things wouldn’t change.. But they did. It was… it was so tense. In a way that I’d never felt with him. Things said and unsaid hung between us.

I was still staying in the spare room. I wasn’t sleeping. Every time I tried I heard Jiao-Jie’s scream. I smelled the fire.

In my mind Lan Zhan was there. Trapped under the fire. And I couldn’t help him. Couldn’t save him.

And it was all my fault.

And when I woke up in a cold sweat after not really sleeping to begin with. All I could do was go to the livingroom. To where I could still smell the smoke.

And I scrubbed. I tried to scrub away the smell. The soot. The memory.

I scrubbed until all I could smell was the cleaner instead. But then the next night the smoke was back

And I scrubbed.

It aggravated my hands. The burns on my fingers hurt so bad.

But I couldn’t stop.

I scrubbed.

I… I don’t know if Lan Zhan ever found out. I’m pretty sure at this point dust is repelled by the mere memory of my elbow-grease there.

I didn’t stop until the third night. Lan Zhan came to me. He asked me if it was okay if I stayed with him again. In his room.

He said he didn’t want to lose what we had before all this mess. That he missed me.

I was.. I was powerless against that. Because all I wanted to do was to bury myself in his arms. To have him hold me. Keep me safe.

So I agreed. It was what we both wanted. It was how we were both happiest.

So it’s okay, right?

And… oh… oh the nightmares… They’re not gone, but they’re so much better. I can sleep through the night most times and when I start awake it’s soft enough that I don’t wake him up. And I can stare at his sleeping face for a bit and get back to sleep again after.

And things are better. Between us. I mean I’m still an idiot and was clearly making things worse still seeing as he even had to talk to me about it on Christmas Eve, but I’ll talk about that later.

But overall… things were better. Are better.

Especially. Since….

Okay I can’t talk about Christmas right now. It’s too much all at once.

Next time. I promise.

#Wei wuxian #jiang yanli #wang linjiao #lan wangji #mo dao zu shi #Long Post #(Modern AU!)

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staticscreenwriting · 5 years ago

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12 Days of Christmas - [Day 4]

A/N: Day number 4 for the Christmas coundown with @mattysheelies. This one’s almost 6k words. I loved writing this and I hope you like it too. It’s cheesy and cutesy and maybe cliché but it’s Christmas so idgaf. ENJOY ♥

Prompt: Snowed in together.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

“I felt so lonesome, all of a sudden. I almost wished I was dead.”

It happens, every once in a while, that you read a sentence in a book that you’ve read a hundred, maybe a million times before and it suddenly hits you like a punch straight to your gut. Because it’s different now. The book has stayed the same all through the seasons but you realize, you’re a whole new person who’s been through a whole new set of trials and tribulations. And all of a sudden you understand.

I slump back into the cold, sticky plastic of the bright blue seat and clutch my beat up copy of Catcher in the Rye closer to me. I face the huge windows, looking out into the black of the night and the airplanes, firmly rooted on the ground. There’s a heavy downfall of snow and no sign of it stopping anytime soon.

Maybe, I realize, this is my reckoning. Isn’t this what I’ve been wishing for ? A white Christmas like the one from the songs and the movies ?

Well merry fucking Christmas, (Y/N).

Every snowflake is a sick reminder of what could have been. Of what isn’t.

I let my eyes travel around the area. Rows and rows of blue plastic seats. There’s not a lot of people waiting around here. I assume most people have flown home a few days ago to make it in time for Christmas and the few that weren’t smart enough to do that, have resorted to some bar or a restaurant or something.

In theory, I could do that too. The thing is, spending Christmas eve by myself in an airport restaurant, would just seal the deal for this being the most depressing and downright sad Christmas of my whole life.

So I stay seated and lose myself in Holden Caulfield's delightful pretentiousness.

They’re playing Christmas music from a nearby speaker. I wonder if they want to taunt me. Me and everyone else stuck in a fucking snowstorm on Christmas Eve in god damn Indianapolis. They even have a tree set up and where it should make people happy, it only makes me even more sad. I wanna be home with my family, decorating my own tree with all the weird and quirky ornaments we’ve collected over the years. They all come with their own stories and it fills my heart with bittersweet nostalgia.

I’ve never known what being homesick feels like until tonight.

Again my eyes move along the rows of plastic seats. There’s a man in a sharp suit a few rows down. He’s got neatly combed hair and a red tie and shiny shoes and a face that says “ My name is Michael and I don’t allow anyone to call me by a nickname and I have an important job and I drive an expensive car and I probably fuck my secretary. “

It’s not a face you particularly want to look at. Except maybe if you’re said secretary.

A family of 3 sits by the end of the row. They seem — at peace. And for a moment I wish I could be them. I guess it’s different being stuck if you’re stuck with the people you love.

It makes me bitter to think about it so I avert my eyes and let them travel down the other side of rows. Which turns out to be no better for my mental state because there’s a couple there and they do not seem to care that an airport terminal is not the ideal place for some serious tongue action.

Across from them sits a guy, he’s got a mean mullet. Strands and strands of golden curls. He’s wearing a leather jacket and big black boots and there’s a deep scowl permanently edged onto his face. If he’s aiming for the whole bad boy vibe, he’s really nailing it.

I can see him shaking his head, as he too notices the couple getting awfully touchy, and I can’t suppress a laugh.

He notices and he looks at me and even across two whole rows of plastic seats I can see just how gorgeously blue his eyes are.

He doesn’t laugh or smirk or does anything to give me any indication of his feelings. Maybe I’m grateful for it. Maybe I wish he would. It would be quite nice to make a connection with someone right now. Just to make being alone feel a little less lonely.

“ the snow's comin' down

(Christmas) I'm watchin' it fall

(Christmas) lots of people around

(Christmas) baby, please come home”

It’s quite ironic, really,that they would chose this damn song. Of all the Christmas songs in all of the world.

Mullet boy seems to be a kindred spirit in this regard, I can see him sigh and murmur a “for fucks sake” into to collar of his jacket, as he sinks deeper into the chair.

“They’re singing deck the halls, but it’s not like Christmas at all. “

Yeah it really fucking isn’t.

A smacking of lips catches my attention and I focus back on the couple just to witness the guy’s hand travel straight under the sweater of his girlfriend. It’s a sight I don’t particularly want to see.

A sight that apparently makes my face screw up in aversion. And as it does, old blue eyes looks back at me and this time, I see a smirk. It vanishes as quickly as it appeared but I know for a fact that it was there. Maybe I don’t have to be all that lonely after all.

I close the bruised and battered orange book that, at this point, is hardly orange anymore, and place it in my backpack. If my life was a John Hughes movie or maybe any other romantic comedy, I’d get off my seat and walk over. There’d be some cheesy some playing in the background, maybe by the Smiths. I would throw him a smile and he’d look at me, an angel’s choir singing wonderous melodies. And tonight would change both our lives forever.

Alas my life is not a movie that Morrissey wrote any songs about. I am a coward and my heart already lies in several little pieces at my feet. So I don’t walk over just like that with no idea what to say, no incentive.

Instead I grab my backpack and walk past him, down a long corridor and end up at a vending machine that sells both, coffee and soup and I secretly pray that they don't come from the same jet.

The last coffee I had, I think as the warm liquid fills the paper cup, I bought at the little cart by Kelvin’s dorm room. It was a good coffee, had Hazelnut sirup in it. I remember the warmth of it in my hand. I remember the taste on my tongue. I vividly remember the sound of the cup hitting the floor and the stains on my pants and the feeling of my heart as it broke in two.

I don’t want to remember that though, so I will myself to ignore it. To push the thoughts away. I fill the second cup, grab it, put lids on them and then carry them back towards the row of seats.

Mullet boy doesn’t as much as glance at me as I drop down in the seat next to him. Only shows me that he notices me as I hold one of the coffee cups out to him.

“ Sorry it’s not booze. I know that would make looking at these two a little more entertaining. “

For a second he just looks at me in confusion, contemplates whether or not to trust me. In the end he takes the drink so I take that for a good sign.

“ Thanks. “

His voice is deep and raspy and I really really like the way it sounds.

“ I wonder if they even realize there’s other people around “ I say, watching the dude’s hand travel down the girls back, as they dreamily blink at each other like the main characters on a romance novel. Maybe those two get the romance and the the Smith song in the background. Maybe I’m just a sad side character in their story.

Mullet boy scoffs, takes a sip of coffee then speaks up. “ Don’t even think they’d notice if we joined in “.

He smirks at that. There’s an absolute underappreciation for people who laugh at their own jokes. I think it’s charming, endearing even. If you can’t laugh at your own joke, how do you expect anyone else to do it.

“ Least they’re not alone on Christmas fucking eve “

I don’t know why I say it. I don’t necessarily want to share my sob story. Sometimes my words just move faster than my head does.

“ Christmas is overrated anyway “ blue eyes says and shrugs his shoulders in a way that’s supposed to look casual. Only you can’t say shit like “Christmas is overrated” and be casual about it. There’s always more to a statement like that.

“ You think ? “

“ I know. “

“ How come ? “

He turns to face me and raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. It’s like he’s straight from the cover of one of my mom’s romance novels. I think it’s quite unfair that he gets to look like this on a day like today and I — I look just the way I feel. Sad. Exhausted.

“ It’s none of your business. “

“ Oh geez, and here I was thinking we were bonding over our shared distaste for PDA. Guess not. “

“ You guessed right. “

For a moment, we fall into silence as another song plays over the stereo that has entirely too many obnoxious jingle bells in the backing track. For a moment I feel very lonely again.

It’s then, that the universe seems to have pity on me. It sends me a sign. A gift. A little Christmas miracle if you will.

That comes in the form of the couple getting more touchy, more — obnoxious. So obnoxious that the girl leans back, presumably to lay on the seats, only that’s not what happens. It seems to happen in slow motion when really it’s probably only the blink of an eye. She leans back and back and back and suddenly tumbles off the seats and onto the cold linoleum floor, her mister holding onto her so tightly, he falls right down with her.

My mama always told me not to laugh at other people’s misfortune. But at 18 years of age, I feel it’s time to break some rules my mama set. And this is one of them.

I can’t help it. I laugh. It comes from the deepest corner of my belly and fills my entire being. Then I catch those gorgeous blue eyes looking at my and I notice he’s laughing too. A hearty laugh. I think it’s a good one. No halfway laugh. No bullshitting. It’s a proper laugh and, as we lock eyes, our laughter only seems to increase.

The magic bubble that, until now, has surrounded the couple, seems to have been popped. It’s vanished. For them at least. Because as our laughter rings in unison, a proper harmony of joy, I feel like maybe me and mullet boy have been given a tiny spark of magic ourselves.

“ I’m (Y/N), by the way “ I say, trying to hold in more chuckles.

“ Billy ”

“ No no, you got it all wrong. His name is Michael and he’s on a business trip that he tells his wife he couldn’t postpone but actually he just wanted to get away from his family for the holidays. “

“ Michael ? nah. This dude’s not a Michael. “

“ So what’s his name then, Billy ? “

He thinks for a moment, face scrunched up in a way that is absolutely adorable. It makes him look way younger than he probably is. Very boy-ish. Very cute.

“ Edward “

“ Edward ? “

“ Yes. Look at him, he looks so boring. And can you think of a more boring name than fucking Edward ? “

I have to admit, he has a point. So I shrug and nod. “ You have a point. “

The little family from earlier, passes us and, as the mom glances towards us, her eye linger on Billy just a moment too long for it to be accidental. And he notices, the cocky bastard. He notices and revels in it, letting the corner of his lips lift up in a teasing smirk.

“ What the fuck was that ? “ I asked, flattened by the sheer audacity for both of them.

“ I got that effect on women of all ages. “

“ Wow, your ego is really tiny, huh. “

When he looks at me, grin widening and eye filling with mischief, I know I just said the wrong thing. I set myself up with this one, I admit that.

“ That’s the only thing tiny about me. “

“ Aaaand that’s my cue to leave. “ I pull myself halfway out of my seat when his arm shoots out and his hand grabs onto mine. The mischief in his eyes in gone, completely replaced by a pure and unfiltered honesty.

“ Stay. Please. “

I sink back down and we fall into a silence. He knows that I saw it in his eyes, the fear of being left alone and I know that he knows and so we’re stuck in this weird limbo of whether to ignore it or spill our sorrows to one another. And maybe it’s because today is Christmas and on Christmas you tell the truth, even if it to a stranger at an airport, but he suddenly breaks the silence and starts talking.

“ I don’t wanna be alone. “

“ Yeah me neither. “

“ I uh — I was supposed to be in California, to visit my mom over Christmas. I haven’t seen her in — in years. This was supposed to be our first Christmas together since I was 8. I called her earlier, from the payphone. I thought she might be devastated. She’s not. I don’t think she cares very much if I’m there or not. I’m still debating whether or not I wanna get on the plane if it ever goes. “

“ I came to visit my boyfriend for Christmas. Surprise him, you know. He’s going to college here in Indiana. We’re both from California and we haven’t seen each other since the summer. I thought It was the ultimate proof of my love to him. Well — turns out he’s been fucking his way around campus while I’ve been busy making plans on how to rearrange my life and all my dreams, to come study with him in Indiana after I graduate High School. “

Another silence fills our hearts but this one isn’t thick with anticipation and tension. It’s one that settles deep in our bones as we realize, that sometimes there’s comfort in shared misery.

“ Merry fucking Christmas to us. “ Billy murmures.

“ Do you wanna go see if we can get a drink at the bar ? “

“ That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while. “

“ I can not believe your fake ID says you’re name’s Ricky Hardman. “

“ If you’re mocking me I can just drink this myself, you know. “

“ Oh come on. It’s just — that sounds like such a porn name. “

“ So what. “

I have to snort at his complete lack of self reflection. He knows I’m right but he’s so stubborn. Again I find myself thinking it’s endearing rather than annoying.

To come back to a statement I made earlier, I also think we don’t appreciate the people enough, that make us snort-laugh. Is it a bit embarrassing and cringy? Sure but it’s a laugh either way and I don’t think we should ever take that for granted.

“ Put the cups down so I can spice it up a little bit “ Billy instructs me and I do as he says. This is probably our 4th refill of coffee for the night, my mom would have a go at me for all the caffeine but whatever.

Billy opens the bottle of booze he just purchased at the airport store and pour us both a decent amount into our coffees. Might as well have our own little Christmas celebration if we’re stuck here with nothing else to do.

Cups clutched in our hands we roam around the airport, cheeks warming up from the alcohol. I feel more at peace now and yet my heart is ever as heavy with the longing to be home.

A sign directs us towards the visitors terrace where families usually gather to watch the planes take off and land. It’s deserted now but that’s not really a surprise. It’s cold, it’s snowing and there’s no flights going anyway. It’s just a dark, snowy night and a lonely runway illuminated by small lights that, if you believe hard enough, almost look like fairy lights in the distance.

“ I know it looks pretty, “ I say as I lean against the banister of the terrace “ but I really don’t find snow all that great.”

“ I fucking sucks, “ Billy replies. “ It’s cold and wet and turns into gray slosh in the matter of a few minutes. “

“ I always dreamed of a white Christmas, now I can’t wait to never see snow again. “

“ Me too. I hate it. Snow. Indiana. At least you get to stay in California once you make it there. I have to wait until graduation to finally move back home. “

I don’t want to pry, I really don’t but there’s something about him that intrigues me. Everything he says and does in scrowded in some kind of mystery. Some hidden meaning in all of it.

The way he looks and the way his words hold a certain softness to them, is a whole enigma in itself.

“ You wanna come back to Cali ? “

“ Fuck yes. I can’t stay here longer than I need to. I miss the sun and the beach and — my home. “

“ Oh god yes, the beach. “

“ See, and you wanted to give up on all of that for a guy called Kelvin. “

“ I — he’s nice.”

“ Oh I’m sure he is. And secure and smart. “

“ He is. We’ve been together since my sophomore year in Highschool. He was my first — everything. He studies business and is gonna take over his dad’s company one day. “

Billy blows a raspberry before turning to me with his perfect eyebrow raised in mockery.

“ That is so dull. “

“ It’s not “

“ But it is ! Tell me honestly, do you really love this guy or is it just — comfortable. Being with him ? “

And once again, something that I’ve considered so many times in my life, suddenly affects me in a completely different way than I am used to. I understand all of a sudden.

I get it.

“ I mean, maybe you have a point. What makes you the relationship expert though ? “

“ Nothing. I’m not saying I am. But I know I never plan on spending my whole life with someone because I am comfortable with them. It’s your goddamn life, you should live it for yourself. “

It hits me light a freight train. Straight in the heart. He’s right. Whether I want to admit it or not, Billy is right. I don’t let him know that though, it’s hard enough admitting it to myself. I think he knows anyway, by the way I look at him. By the way he looks at me.

“ Have you decided whether or not you wanna get on the flight ? “ I ask. It’s still not my place to ask those questions but it feels like something has shifted between us. Like tonight is ours entirely. A night of truths. Of heart opened and unguarded.

“ The alternative is spending Christmas with my dad and his wife and my stepsister. “

“ Sounds alright to me. “

“ Yeah, only my dad is the biggest asshole on the planet. He’s not a nice guy. His wife is a fucking nutcase, obeying his every will. She has the backbone of a jellyfish. And Max — Max hates me. That one’s my fault though. “

I want to hug him. It’s a strong urge that overcomes me. A sudden rush. His words are soft and sad and frustrated and I can see in his eyes just how much this hurts him. And god, it’s Christmas Eve. I just want to make him feel a little less alone.

So I do. I hug him, rest my head on his shoulder and together we look at the snow falling around us, covering the world in a thick white frosty blanket.

“ I’m sorry about that. Just so you know though, I’m glad we’re stuck here together. “

“ Well yeah, I’m hot and fun and I have great hair. “

“ Oh there we go again with the ego. “ I laugh. He makes me me laugh. Like genuinely laugh. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this around Kelvin.

“ What’s that book you’ve been reading. “ Billy asks as the laughter settles down again.

“ Catcher in the Rye. It’s one of my favorites. “

“ Uh-huh. What’s it about ?”

“ This boy, Holden. He gets kicked out of prep school and runs of to New York City and yeah it basically chronicles his days in NYC. It’s about loss of innocence and isolation. “

“ Sounds absolutely — “

“ Wonderful “

“ Boring. “

Here’s the thing about interests and hobbies. They’re a very personal, very individual experience. They’re yours. And yes, maybe it’s nice to share your passions with another person who feels the same. But let’s be honest: It doesn’t really matter. I am not hurt by Billy’s disinterest. Not even by his mocking scoff. Because it in no way lessens my love for the book. The story it tells and the nostalgia it brings me.

It also doesn’t lessen the affection growing inside me, towards Billy. An affection that both scares and excites me at the same time. By all means, it is delusional to fall for a stranger at an airport, who doesn’t even live in the same state as me. Someone I’ve only spent a few hours with.

Then again, life is never a straight path. I used to think it was but after tonight, maybe I can let myself take some backroads. Take a road less traveled. See where it leads me and if it brings me to a dead end, turn around and try again.

Maybe sometimes it needs a boy with a leather jacket and gorgeous blue eyes, to make you realize that life can be so much more if you just let yourself live it.

“ Okay sure. What are your interests then ? I’m sure there’s something you like doing, something you care about. “

“ My car. “

“ That’s such a guy answer. “

“ Pff, whatever. “

“ What else ? “

He takes a moment to answer. Contemplates. Mulls his answer over in his head. There’s a vulnerability in his eyes I haven’t seen since he talked about his mom earlier tonight.

“ Music. “

“ Music ?”

“ I really care about music. Not — not playing it but just music in itself. You can’t tell anyone this, okay ? It’s a bit ridiculous and It’s not really realistic, but I would love to work at a record label. Or maybe have my own music venue. To help discover bands and find new, awesome music. Whenever I’m sad or angry or frustrated, or even happy, there’s a specific songs for any emotion, any situation. I want everyone to be able to have that in their life. “

There’s something undeniably sexy about someone being passionate about something. He only just started but I could honestly listen to Billy talk about music for hours and hours and hours.

“ So who’s your favorite band then ? “

“ I’ll sound pretentious as fuck but my favorites are probably some local bands from my hometown in California. “

“ Maybe when you’re back home after graduation, you can take me to a gig. Show me some of those bands. “

My heart beats faster as I realize this is the first time either of us has mentioned there being a future. More than just one magical night at the airport.

It slipped out but I’m glad it did. The idea of more nights together, more time spent listening to him talk about his music. Experiencing that music with him. It doesn’t scare me. In fact, it excites me so much.

“ Yeah. Sounds like a plan. “

“ A good plan. “

“ A great plan. “

I don’t know if he notices that I notice, but his hand drops to the small of my back, so gently it’s but a whisper of a touch. It warms me up more than our boozy coffee ever managed to.

Airports have a weird energy. A specific mood that transcends through every corner in every room. It’s loaded with the arrival of change. It might be good and exciting or it might be sad. But something is about to change and you can feel it sizzling in the air.

As I stand next to Billy in the softly falling snow, I know that the girl that arrived at the airport earlier today, heartbroken and without purpose, is not the same girl that’s gonna get on that flight home. Something has changed. I think I like this new girl better.

“ They’re singing deck the halls … “

“ Oh Jesus, what is it with this fucking song ? “

“ What, you don’t like it ? “

“ Do you ? “

“ Totally “

I don’t know what hits me. Maybe it’s the fact that the future is so awfully unknown. I don’t know if after tonight I will ever see Billy again. Or maybe because it’s Christmas.

Or maybe because I’m a little drunk and half in love.

But I start to dance and sing along. With the snow falling down on me. Snowflakes dropping onto my hair and melting, leaving it wet and streaky. But it doesn’t matter right then. All that matter is the music and the night and him and I.

“ Come dance with me. “

“ I don’t dance. “

“ It’s Christmas Eve, Billy. It’s my Christmas wish. Come on. There’s no one around. “

Here’s some piece of advice from me to you: If you’ve never had a guy in a leather jacket and biker boots twirl you around while the snow is falling and Christmas songs play over the stereo, then you’re missing out.

Billy’s hand is warm, his smile is gentle. It’s all so vastly different from the way I felt when touching Kelvin. Everything that comes with Billy is an enigma, a surprise. Nothing is certain and yet I am sure that I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now.

The last chord of the song echoes through the night as Billy pulls me close to him, I can see his breath in the cold, accumulating in little clouds. I can feel his skin in mine.

“ You’re gonna get on that flight, Billy Hargrove. “ I say, my voice but a sigh. A whisper

“ I’m gonna get on the flight. I’m gonna graduate and then come back to California. Permanently this time. I’ll find you and take you to all the underground clubs and show you all my favorite bands. And I’ll even listen to you talk about your books. “

“ Even if you think they’re boring. “

“ Uh-huh. “

“ Hey Billy. “

“ Hmm ? “

“ I think I wanna write a book. I think that’s what I want to do with my life. “

He’s so close now, our noses touching, our breaths touching, our lips touching. Warm and soft and gentle.

“ Write about us, so you don’t forget me. “

I kiss him then. Or he kisses me. I don’t know for sure but really what does it matter. In the grand scheme of things it’s irrelevant who initiated the kiss. It matters that it happened. And by god I will never be able to forget this kiss or the boy that gave it to me.

“ Dear passengers, we are delighted to announce that the runway has been cleared. The sky is blue and free of any downfall. Flights will resume shortly. More information about departure times will be available shortly. Feel free to turn to our staff for guidance or additional information.

“ Billy. Hey, Billy. “ I say, and shake him awake. He looks so peaceful and boyish while sleeping, it breaks my heart a little to interrupt his sleep.

“ Hmm.. ? “

“ I think our flights are gonna go soon. Snow’s stopped. “

“ Oh. “

I don’t have to ask to know what he’s feeling. What he wants to say. “ Oh. this is it for us. “

We gather our stuff, stretch our limbs and get off the uncomfortable plastic seats. The board on the wall shows us that our flights go in just two hours. His to San Diego, mine to LA.

Our time is numbered and we finally have an expiration date. My heart breaks once again though this time I try to hold onto the fact that we both want a future of whatever it is we’re sharing. Even if it’s just a friendship, I want Billy Hargrove in my life.

“ Hey uh — “ Billy speaks up and takes my hand in his “ let’s make a deal. “

“ What deal ? “

“ To see each other again. Maybe — maybe next Christmas Eve. “

“ Where ? “

“ I don’t know. Let me — let me come to you. “

“ Santa Monica pier. “

“ Okay sure. “

“ Cool. “

He kisses me again and this one too, will stay with me forever. In my heart and in my head.

“ Here I’ll give you my phone number. Call me if anything changes. If my dad answers just ignore his stupid comments “ He says, fumbles around in his backpack and come up with a pen and — a cassette tape ?!

“ Something to remember me by “ he points out as he scribbles his number onto the little slip of paper. “ Some of my favorite songs on there. “

“ If you give me something, let me give you something too. “ I say and pull out my old worn out copy of Catcher in the Rye, scribble a message on the first page, then hand it to him.

“ There’s a bunch of notes in the margins. I never got to share them with anyone, I’ll gladly share them with you. “

Then I kiss him. Again and again and again, until it’s all I can think about and all I can feel.

“ Flight 207 to LAX boarding now. “

And that is it for us, at least for now. The magic of last night is broken. It’s Christmas Eve gone, replaced by Christmas day. No snowstorm. No magic. Just the brutal truth that real life awaits.

So we part. With more kisses and a promise.

“ Until next Christmas. “

The plane is already high up in the air when Billy Hargrove pulls the book from his pocket. It’s old and worn out and what looks like it used to be orange once upon a time is now a washed out beige.

He opens it up to the first page and can’t suppress a smile. A real one. Not one of those he fakes for his dad and susann. A real smile that reaches his eyes. One he feels in his heart.

“ Meet me at the Merry-Go-Round! “

His heart soars as he thinks about next year. A future that suddenly looks much brighter than ever before.

There’s a lot of notes and scribbles and highlighted sentences. He skims through it until one passage catches his attention.

“ Make sure you marry someone who laughs at the same things you do. “

And so he thinks back to the overly touchy couple and their magnificent tumble from the plastic seats. And he remembers her laugh and his ringing up in unison.

He understands. That Holden guy has a point. Maybe it’s worth reading the book after all.

A year later.

I’m rushing through the crowd of people, a vibrant clementine sky the backdrop for my misery. God, why can I never be on time.

My heart hammers in my chest. Please don’t leave. Please don’t leave.

His eyes meet mine across the way as he leans against the banister by the Merry-Go-Round and I feel like I am back at the airport. The magic is back.

“ Sorry I am late. I am so so sorry. “ I say and can’t help myself but pull him into a kiss. One filled with passion and longing and a promise kept.

“ Ah If a girl looks swell when she meets you, who gives a damn if she’s late. “ He replies.

“ You read the book. “

“ I read the book and all your notes. “

“ That’s good, I uh — have something else for you to read. “

It’s a bundle of papers, no cover art or fancy pictures on the front page. All it says in big bold letters is “ A white Christmas - a story of girl meets boy. “ I hand it to Billy and he looks at me in confusion.

“What’s that ? “

“ That’s the first draft of my book. “

“ You wrote it! “

“ You believed I could so I did. “

“ What’s it about ? “

“ Oh you know, just a girl and a boy and a magical night at the airport. Lots of snow. Lots of kissing. Little bit of magic. “

“ Can’t wait to read it. So, you wanna go see a band ? “

“ They any good ? “

“ Pretty fucking good!”

Darlene Love’s voice echoes through the stereo and for the first time I have to disagree. This feels like Christmas more than any moment before ever did.

And my baby is finally home.

Taglist; [I copied this from @mattysheelies and just added a few new ones, if you wanna be added or deleted from the taglist please let me know]

@sebastiansloserclub ; @killer-queen-xo ; @william-hargroves ; @billysgodcomplex ; @daisyxbuckley ; @allabouthargrove ; @mcrmarvelloki ; @charmed-asylum ; @1998--js ; @naiomiwinchester ; @hargrovesprincess ; @mystrangerfics ; @teafrompari ; @staybruuutal ; @colourado ; @higher-further-faster-bb ; @ayybtch ; @carlaangel86 ; @baebee35

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #12dayswriting

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newcaptainofsquad9 · 5 years ago

Text

Mr.Flirt~Jimin Park x Black! Fem! Reader {1}

Pairing: Jimin Park x reader

Summary: You’ve been an interviewer for a few years at Instant Pop! (fake entertainment outlet) and you finally score an interview with people you care about, BTS themselves. During the course of the entire interview you try not to fangirl completely while each of the guys stay engrossed in your words. One of them being Jimin Park himself, your favorite member, the one you can hardly make eye contact with.

Writer’s Note: Let’s just say that everyone can understand the reader and her questions. It’s fanfiction, so I think we can extend our sense of disbelief. Anyway, I’ve been watching so many BTS interviews where they are having a blast, so I’ve been thinking why don’t I try to write one for fanfiction? More black readers of course, my sisters and I need some love too~Black Army forever! This is my first BTS fic, so please tell me how it is and be civil about it. I hope you guys enjoy it and let me know if you want more BTS fics, send me requests please. I appreciate it.

Warnings: None really for this chapter.

Word Count: 1, 741

______________________________________________________________

A heavy sigh escapes me as I glance at the seven chairs in front of me for the umpteenth time. Maybe they need to be pushed back a bit more, I do need to see them all. I rise and notice that I have too many Army armbands on and flush deeply.

Nate, my co-worker moves the chairs with a chuckle.

“Y/N, the set is fine,” he says, “I checked the chairs four times already.”

“I know, I know,” I say, “this isn’t too much is it?”

I motion to my T-Shirt with all the BTS members and my plethora of armbands. Nate looks me up and down prior to bursting out in laughter, he holds his side to stay up right. My eyes roll as I sit back down with my note-cards, flipping through each of them to ensure that my questions are appropriate.

“Hey-I-I didn’t mean to laugh its just,” he pauses, “you remind me of my younger sister when she had her Twilight phase.”

“Nate,” I groan, “if it’s too much then I’ll change really quick.”

Nate grows serious and shakes his head.

“Nah, you can’t,” he explains, “they just got to the building and you already have your mic on.”

“Really?! Well, can I just check my hair real fast!” I exclaim.

Nate crosses his arms.

“Fine,but make it quick! And I won’t ask them for an autograph!” he jokes as I head for the exit.

“You’re super corny you know that!” I answer back.

Nate shrugs.

“At least I’m not a walking Army private right now,” he states.

I stop at the door.

“Oh, I’m no longer a private Nate,” I say, “I think I’m at least Lieutenant status.”

The moment I open the door I nearly collide with someone, I almost fall in the process.

“Woah, you alright?” he asks.

His deep voice sounds familiar. I glance up to meet the handsome face of Namjoon in his turquoise and purple dotted suit.

“Y-Yeah–ah Namjoon-I mean rap mon–shit RM,” I gasp.

Namjoon chuckles.

“Hi there!” he greets, “this is the room for the interview, right?”

I nod sharply and point over to the chairs. Nate steps over with a bunch of mics in hand and nudges me.

“Yes sir,” he says, “this happens to be your interviewer, not some hopeless fan girl.”

I side eye Nate but don’t speak. I’ve got to make a good impression with BTS, otherwise the army would hate me. Most of them already have a negative impress of black people in the fandom, don’t want to add to the pyre.

“W-Welcome!” I finally manage to say. “Nate will get you set up and we’ll start the interview right away.”

Namjoon grinned as the other six members entered behind him, each and every one of them leaving me starstruck and mesmerized. I never thought I’d see them this close, I can barely get tickets to a concert, this is a real honor! My heart kicks up at the sight of Jimin with his wavy black hair, iconic earrings and his warm smile.

“J-Jimin,” I blurt out, “h-hi welcome.”

Jimin grins softly before his eyes widen abruptly and points at my shirt.

“You’re an army?!” he asks.

He’s talking to me, speak damn it.

“Y-Yeah, ah I-I am,” I manage to say.

Jimin’s grin widens and he puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Nice, our interviewer is an army guys!” he shouts.

Namjoon’s head perks up; Jin smiles; J-Hope hops up and over sporadically; V raises an eyebrow; Jungkook nods eagerly and Suga gives me a small toothy grin.

“Hi there!” J-Hope greets with an extended hand.

I’m frozen by how super friendly and forward they are, of course they seem humble, I wasn’t expecting extremely humble. I look to Namjoon who nods.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

I take J-Hope’s hand firmly and shake.

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N,” I say, “should I call you by your stage names–for the interview that is?”

Namjoon nods.

“Yeah, for the interview is fine,” he agrees.

V chuckles.

“I like your hair, Y/N,” he says.

My face nearly grows flush again. Namjoon playfully nudges V while Jimin gives him a dismissive stare.

“I like her eyes, hair and cheeks,” he says with a quirk of a brow.

My heart leaps as I cover my widened grin with a hand. This is a dream, isn’t it? Jimin would never, he would, I tell myself. He’s a huge flirt, on camera, but we haven’t started rolling yet.

“A-Are you ok?” Namjoon asks.

I nod as Jimin and J-Hope laugh along with Nate. I clear my throat as Namjoon leans down to my level putting a hand on the small of my back. His touch is soothing and real, really real.

“Y-Yeah, uh you guys can sit for the interview now,” I say, trying to play off my stunned expression.

Namjoon inspects me for a moment, but soon nods and walks over to a seat with his band-mates. He sits in the center with J-Hope on his left and Jimin on the right, who gives me a tiny, cutesy wave. I glance at the floor, take my seat across from them and take one final look at my note cards. Nate shuffles over with a smug expression.

“You good fangirl?” he asks.

“Uh huh,” I lie, “we aren’t live yet, are we?”

Nate shakes his head.

“I’m ready when you are, can’t let you make an ass of yourself in front of your fellow army,” he teases.

His comment sobers me up quickly.

“I’m good, let’s roll,” I say.

Nate raises a brow, yet he nods and signals the camera man. I inhale and exhale, shut my eyes prior to putting on a more composed, calm face.

“What’s up guys! Welcome back to Instant Pop, where I have with me Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Seokjin, Jeon Jungkook, Kim Taehyung and Min Yoongi–BTS!!” I shout.

Namjoon pumps his fists into the air while the rest of the band clap and woo.

“Wow, Y/N,” Namjoon says, “that’s one of the first times a person has introduced us by our real names so boldly–wow!”

“She’s my favorite interviewer already,” J-Hope says.

I giggle and modestly play it off and get into the questions. Namjoon answers first as always, then hands it off to Jimin who gives it around to V and so on to the others. The answers they give are pretty straight forward, I’m surprised the fans didn’t send us any awkward questions. I don’t want to get exposed as a fangirl on camera.

“All right guys, last question, “ I say and flip my final note card over.

I hesitate. Just when I think I’m in the clear there’s an embarrassing question. Well, at least embarrassing for me.

“Of course they’d give me this question,” I say under my breath.

Namjoon leans in.

“I’m sorry?”

“Ah! My apologizes, the last question. What do you look for in a potential girlfriend–ah, you guys don’t have to–”

J-Hope cuts me off with a laugh.

“That’s ok! That’s ok! I’m looking for a woman who can cook, and who’s crazy about me!” he says with a mega watt grin.

I smile, eyes going to Jimin as he leans in, an amused guise on his face.

“A girl with a cute smile, like that,” he answers slyly with a wink.

My ears burn, I hardly listen to the rest of the answers. Jimin thinks I’m–wow. The room falls quiet, BTS still engrossed in me with attention. Nate speaks up to save my ass.

“Ok! That’s a wrap guys, thanks!” he calls, breaking me from my daze.

“Yes! Ah, thank you so much guys! This has been Instant Pop! Y/N signing out!”

Once the cameras shut off I let my face fall into my hands. I did the exact thing I didn’t want to do; I froze up in front of the entire internet, my fellow army and all. Thank God Nate came in for the quick save. I don’t even notice the guys getting up.

“Y/N, thank you so much!” Namjoon says. “We actually have a present for you!”

I blink at his words and look to Nate who shrugs, then to Rob, the camera guy who has no clue either.

“Present?” I ask.

V nods conspiratorially and reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a copy of their latest album, Y/F/A(your fav album). My skin almost pops from my skin in goosebumps as he hands it over to Namjoon who presents it to me.

“Your manager told us you’re a huge fan and we just wanted to give back to you, the best way we thought we could,” he explains with a nervous grin.

“T-Thank–thanks you guys,” I say.

Jimin chuckles, stepping up and taking the album from Namjoon.

“Jim–” Namjoon starts.

Jimin opens it carefully with a small grin while batting his eyes at me. I cover my mouth, this man is trying to bias wreck me and he’s already my bias. How is that even possible.

“Do you have a pen, Y/N?” He asks sweetly.

I nod slowly, my fingers trembling like crazy as I yank the pen from my jean pocket and hand it to him.

“Really? You forgot to sign it!” J-Hope scolds.

Jimin elbows his hyung.

“I’m just writing Y/N a special message, reminding her to love herself,” Jimin explains with a swift wink.

He finally hands it to me then outstretches his arms for a hug. I gladly accept, he rubs my back soothingly before pulling away. The other guys want their hugs too, V and Suga especially chomping at the bit.

“B-Bye guys, thanks for granting me this amazing opportunity!”

They all bow before moving to the door.

“The pleasures ours Y/N!” Namjoon yells.

They all wave. Jimin and V both give me hearts, then they’re gone. In my head, then out like a dream.

“Sooooo,” Nate says while throwing an arm around my shoulder. “what your mans give you?”

Of course it’s his annoying ass voice that breaks me from my daze yet again.

“Just an autographed album from them,” I say, “and they aren’t my men!”

Nate wiggles his eyebrows.

“Whatever you say,” he says.

I sit back at my chair to flip through the album, I end up on the page Jimin signed and lose my breath at what it says. It read: ‘thanks for the sweet interview, call me xoxo’~Jimin, below that are his digits.

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yikesorps · 4 years ago

Note

💘 + collin & lyla

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

They met while he and Avery were still in the dating phase. While they weren’t the best of friends, they kept in touch. I’ve always assumed that their career paths are what brought them together. I also think that the fact that he kind of always. had a crush on her ‘cause, well, we know how he is.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved?

I think that it started even while he was still with Avery, but Lyla was never really aware of it. But as for when they really started to talk, it didn’t take that long for the two to soften up at the idea of each other. After all, he wasn’t used to someone being nice to him and she was under the impression that he was just cute and sweet. How’s that working out for you, LYLA?

who fell for who first ( if applicable? )

They fell at the same pace but I think Collin was the one that felt the need to really profess his love first. He was in such a hurry to prove that he was over his ex and so he sort of rushed the two of them into a relationship. It’s so weird because their idea of flirting is so widely different.

where their first date was and what it was like?

Their first date was surprisingly very cute. They went to a record store and they each picked an album for one another based entirely on the look of the cover. Then they laid on her flower and he asked her if she wanted to be his girlfriend. As horrible as a human as he is, that moment really sealed the deal for me when it comes to these two. I am absolutely weak for them.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

Collin asked Lyla out first. He did it, as I said, while they were laying on the floor and at their most pure. My favorite part is that it was right after he swore up and down that he was not interested in getting a girlfriend.

who proposes first

I don’t think that they’re going to get married. Collin never wanted to get married the first time, and especially now that he’s been so damaged over his first marriage I don’t think that either of them would ever propose. I think that’s a conversation that they’re going to need to have, and I don’t think that she’s going to like it.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Their relationship was never a secret, not even for a second. He made it very clear to everyone as quickly as he could. Well, he made it clear to Avery. Ahaha.

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

Again, there won’t be a proposal. He is emotionally stunted. Lyla, I am so sorry.

if they adopt any pets together

Collin is notorious for not liking pets, and so I don’t see either of them getting one together. One day he’ll accept her cat, but that’s about as far as these two are going to get.

who’s more dominant?

It is, and I say this with total sincerity, so obvious that the answer to this is Collin that I snorted as I typed this. Lyla does not have a dominant bone in her body.

where their first kiss was and what it was like?

Their sweet first kiss happened on their first date. It was very sweet, and I would go as far as to call it one of the most wholesome things I’ve ever written. He started off very sweet with her because deep down he knows just how important Lyla is for him to keep around because she is so incredibly good for him.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

I can see Lyla getting them matching things, and he would go along with it just because he wants to make her happy. In particular, I think she’d get them mugs. Can you imagine the look on Avery’s face if she knew that they matched? I can’t.

how into pda they are?

They don’t go out too often but PDA isn’t really their style. I think that because their ideas of what is acceptable as far as PDA goes are so separate that it doesn’t work in their favor because he is far more touchy-feely than she is, meanwhile Lyla just wants to hold hands.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

Collin holds the umbrella for her because this is another instance of the height difference making it a necessity.

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

They definitely frequent the record store that they went to together, as well as small coffee shops, plant shopping. Their dates revolve around things that Lyla likes, for sure. Deep down Collin is such a softie for her, and he constantly does want to make her happy. I think that guilt is also a big factor in it.

who’s more protective

Collin is definitely more protective over Lyla, but once again, I think that guilt plays a heavy hand in that. He knows what he is capable of, and he hates the idea of sharing her. But I think that Lyla is more protective of his feelings because she knows just how sensitive he is, deep down.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

It took quite a while before they had sex because that isn’t necessarily Lyla’s style. However, they shared a bed early on. They had their fair share of cuddling sessions and just trying to be close to each other whenever they could.

if they argue about anything

They argue pretty frequently but in such a lowkey fashion. I’ve noticed that they have pretty different outlooks on a lot of things. They argue mostly about the things Collin does, much like the other people in his life.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Neither of them and that isn’t from lack of trying on Collin’s end. I get the vibe that Lyla isn’t as into being marked up as Collin would like. But he definitely tries to get creative with where he leaves marks on her anyway. She just isn’t into his weird shit.

who steals whose clothes and how often

Lyla steals his shirts on occasion but I think it widely depends on the last time his laundry was done. Spoiler alert: she usually knows when that is because she helps him with it.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

They’re either spooning or Lyla is laying directly on him. There aren’t too many inbetweens but they’re usually just cuddling no matter how it happens. That’s one of the things that they do happen to agree on.

what their favourite nonsexual activity ?

Listening to records together, talking, watching movies, cooking ( or rather Lyla cooking ) the issue with their nonsexual activities is that Collin always tries to make them so.

how long they stay mad at each other

It doesn’t usually last long because Collin truly doesn’t like to see her upset. We must protect Lyla at all costs, and therefore whenever he says something idiotic he tries to turn it around quickly.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

We already know Collin likes his gross Dunkin’ shit. I see Lyla as a mostly tea person, but when she does get coffee I am working under the assumption that she likes it a little on the sweeter side.

if they ever have any children together

It’s hard to say just because he already is a father but it isn’t something that I would rule out for them. I think the possibility is there, especially considering that one of the only things that Collin is good at is being a dad.

if they have any special pet names for each other

How come none of our ships have cute pet names? I would love an answer to that. They are all so basic in this category.

if they ever split up and / or get back together?

I have a feeling that they’re going to split up very soon. However, they. will get back together because of the reasons we’ve already discussed. He does love his ex, but he also does love Lyla. It’ll take a lot of work though.

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

They have wildly different decorating styles so their shared space would have such an odd array of decor. Lyla would not let him make it messy, however, so it would be clean but she would get all of the credit for it.

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

They’ll be spending it apart just because he’s going to be with Willow. After all, Avery made it very clear that she is not allowed to tag along.

what their names are in each other’s phones

Collin is very basic, and it would just be Lyla’s name without any flare to it. I can see Lyla being a lot cuter about it and having it be ‘Col’ with some cutesy emojis.

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

They don’t have any set in stone traditions but that isn’t to say that they aren’t creatures of habit. I’m sure that once they get past their issues, or rather his issues, they will manage to form some traditions of their own though.

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first?

Lyla for both. Collin’s sleeping habits are absolute garbage. Whether it’s because he’s gaming, staying up all night drinking, or even just out with his ex-wife. Regardless, he isn’t ever an early riser unless he’s on tour.

who’s the big spoon / little spoon?

Collin is the frequent big spoon but sometimes they switch it up. However, he likes to feel protective over Lyla.

who hogs the bathroom?

Neither of them. Lyla may take a little longer, but I don’t see her being too high maintenance. Honestly? Collin probably takes longer than she doe. Hot fucking take.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside?

Lyla is another example of someone who I do not think would be keen on killing spiders. I think she makes Collin take them outside.

#Anonymous #♡ collin & lyla: i’ve been searching for a drug like you #what else would I do during a zoom meeting

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foolishlovebugbaby · 5 years ago

Text

stupid cupid | part 1

part 2 | part 3 | part 4

college!au / bang chan x fem!reader

Summary: bang chan is always complaining about being single since birth, so best friend reader decides to play cupid and sets him up. big mistake.

Genre: angst-y?? with some fluff later on idk you decide (a Lot of slow burn so idk how many parts this multi-shot will have lmao)

Warnings: none

college life, to summarise, was hectic.

multiple deadlines for multiple classes; pages upon pages of assignments and essays that needed to be done; hour long lectures almost every single day, and on top of all of that, a part-time job as a book clerk at the library that needed to be held down in order to help pay for your apartment rent.

needless to say, your days were filled with so much to do encapsulated in such little time.

thankfully, you were not alone.

you had your best friend Chan to hold you down through it all even though he had just as much struggles as you did

you had met him right before you started college on a website while looking for housemates in order to afford rent (you were drowning in student loans and so was he, so to you it was a match made in heaven)

to say your parents were reluctant to let you live with a male was an understatement- but after meeting him and realizing that he was a total sweetheart that couldn’t hurt a fly and that there was no other option, off you went.

you two were very similar in many ways; for one, you both shared a deep love for movies and films and star wars, which is why you both made a childish pinky promise to always have movie nights on wednesday evenings and the tradition hasn’t been broken since

another thing you also shared in common was the fact that you both were completely, utterly, stupidly and perfectly single.

he, since birth, and you since the 11th grade when your first love became your fist ( and, thus, worst) heartbreak

bonding over these things and the fact that you both were endlessly passionate about reaching your goals allowed you both to develop a deep and meaningful friendship, enough to make you both realise that you were each others’ best friends

whenever he’d stay up and pull all-nighters to get his work done, you were always next to him on the dining table doing the same even though you didn’t need to, but wanted to keep him company just so that he didn’t feel alone.

and whenever you had mental breakdowns during exam season, he was always there with ice cream and flash cards in hand to help you get through it all

needless to say, even though the first two years of college were anything but a breeze, chan always made you feel okay.

so now there you two were, third year college students on your run-down, second-hand couch, watching re-runs of the big bang theory and catching up on how the week was so far.

“it makes me feel so lonely watching minho and his girl act all cutesy in class, i feel like the ultimate third wheel.” chan whined next to you on the couch and you rolled your eyes

“you’ve been complaining for so long about how you feel oh so lonely, why don’t you just find someone then? there are enough people all over campus pining over you anyway.” you said, scoffing at the brunette.

chan had been complaining for so long about how he felt like a deprived lovebug and how he was an utter virgin in everything that had to do with love, and you were getting annoyed with how often he complained

“but that’s the thing- i don’t even know where to start! how do you even approach people? how do you even know whether that person is a nice person? god, they should teach us ‘finding a life partner 101′ instead of the laws of thermodynamics, it’d be way more useful.” he rambled on

“you’re so whiny channie. you know what? let me help you. i can set you up on a blind date with someone who i think you’d like so that the filtering process would be shortened- how does that sound?” you turned to look at him, propping your elbow onto the couch headboard and rested your head into the palm of your hand

suggesting this was your first mistake.

he looked at you quizzically, his thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes squinty

“you would do that? for me?”

“if it gets you to shut up then of course.” you grinned sarcastically and giggled, with him rolling his eyes at you

“oh haha,” he said and stuck his tongue out “forget i even said anything.” he huffed and got all pouty and exaggerated by crossing his arms and looking away from you. you could only laugh at his feigned hurtful expressions

“i’m kidding! you know i’m just joking- oh stop pouting you big baby.” you said, grabbing ahold of his bicep to get his to turn and look at you

his very muscular bicep

“i’m being serious okay! i want to set you up with someone so that my poor channie stops feeling so lonely all the time.” you mimicked his pout and patted his head

“alright, fine. i’m trusting you with this. if i get dumped i’m blaming you.”

“deal.”

you didn’t have to blink twice to agree to this whole ordeal or even to suggest it; you and chan were just friends- best friends at that, and everything between you both was completely platonic

or so you thought.

so there you were, in your literature lecture, spying on the one girl you thought would be the perfect fit to chan’s empty heart.

so far you knew that her name was Hana, that she was a screenplay major (and so, obviously, knew a good lot about film), that she was recently single and ready to mingle (according to people around campus), and that she looked absolutely gorgeous

jackpot

being your outgoing self, you immediately approached her all wide-eyed and hopeful.

“hi, you don’t know me but would you mind going on a blind date with my friend?” you quipped innocently

she looked completely shocked and dumbfounded

afterall, the only thing she knew about you was that you shared literature class together- and that’s about it.

reader you complete weirdo

“uhm, may i ask what your name is?” she said, looking bashful and flustered

“i’m y/n. and don’t worry, chan isn’t a complete weirdo- shit did i just say his name?? fuck i just took out the point of a blind date.” you mentally slapped yourself for being this much of a dumbass, but to your surprise, hana’s eyes flickered with interest.

“do you mean bang chan? as in cute-boy-in-the-physics-department bang chan?”

“uh yeah i think so? cute boy? since when was channie known as cute bo-”

“i’m definitely in! i’m sorry for sounding so overly-enthusiastic, it’s just chan’s been quite popular these days, and i’m just a little excited.” she said bashfully

“don’t be sorry! just give me your number and i’ll text you the details soon!”

to say that chan was excited when you told him would be an understatement

“you’re going to love her, channie! god, i’m such a good wingman, you should pay me for setting you up this good.” you said, smirking, feeling proud of yourself

“don’t get too cocky just yet. but oh my god, i can’t wait to meet her!” he said grinning, completely over the moon, and your smile matched his.

wednesday evening rolled around, the day of their blind date, and you couldn’t have been more excited for him. you had arranged for them to meet at a cute little trendy café downtown- perfect for a first date- where they could just talk and get to know each other.

you honestly felt like a proud mom sending off her son to get married, and the happiness you felt for him was genuine- no if’s, and’s or but’s.

“do i look okay?” chan said, coming out of his room dressed in black jeans with rips in the knees, a black muscle tank top and his white denim jacket. he wore an expression of nervousness- a very cute one, at that- and you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger a little longer than normal with a little more affection than you’d like to admit.

“you- you look great channie!” you said, stuttering at first as you were taken aback by just how attractive he looked

you always knew your best friend was handsome- but something about the way his ruffled hair settled on his head and how his lips were flushed a deep red from biting them out of nervousness made your heart skip a beat

but of course, you ignored it.

this was the second mistake.

he was attractive, and that was that.

“you really think so?” he smiled bashfully, ears going red when he saw how your eyes gleamed after seeing him. it made him feel fluttery and giddy to have you compliment him.

“you look really handsome, channie- i mean it.” you said again, a soft smile dancing on your lips and he looked down and scratched the nape of his neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed by all the attention you were giving him.

“you should wear that really nice perfume you own!” you said giddily

“already am! i know it’s your favorite scent- i just hope she likes it too.”

after a few more minutes of chan’s nervous questions and you telling him to calm down, he was off.

he didn’t know what Hana looked like- all you told him was that she would be sitting alone next to the window in a pink top.

so when he laid eyes on the girl you described, he had to do a double take to make sure he wasn’t seeing things.

she was a sight to see, that was for sure.

before he entered, he sent a text to you

to stardust: u didnt tell me you were setting me up w a fukn model

from stardust: oopsies (✿◠‿◠)

he chuckled and rolled his eyes before entering the café and making his way over to her.

he introduced himself, as did she, and the night played on.

meanwhile, on the other side of town, there you were on the dining table, finishing up your last analytical essay on whatever the heck you had to analyse for your creative writing class

it was ten pm now, and you groggily made your way onto your sofa with your fluffy throw blanket wrapped around you like a burrito

you flicked through the channels on the tv, being unable to find anything remotely interesting, until you realised something

it was wednesday.

movie night day.

and you were alone.

you felt a pang in your chest at that realisation. after 2 years of almost always spending wednesday nights with chan by your side, you suddenly grew increasingly aware of how lonely you were. by now you two would be cramped on the couch, debating over whether or not to put on a new movie or series or to re-watch some of your all-time favorites.

but there you were, staring into space, alone and cold on your couch, chan no longer beside you.

you immediately buried those thoughts away

‘he’s happy and having a good time, and i’m so happy for him- he’s my best friend.’ you thought to yourself

your phone dinged, interrupting your train of thought

from solo: this is going too well, im buying u sushi next week to thank u

you let out a breathy laugh at that

to solo: hehe glad to hear that

from solo: gosh i love you

your breath hitched in your throat when you read that message. it made your heart suddenly pick up speed and made your tummy feel weird. he’s never said that before, you thought to yourself, your mind malfunctioning. you blinked yourself back into reality.

to solo: i know.

with that, you shut off your phone.

you had to remind yourself why he said it.

he was being thankful, nothing more. that’s all there is to it.

i’m his best friend, nothing more. that’s all there is to it.

you had to shake of the stinging feeling in your chest and chose to distract yourself by watching the nature documentary that was playing on tv, even though it bored you out of your mind and caused you to just stare at it blankly for the rest of the night.

soon enough you fell asleep on the couch, alone and cold, with the tv playing a show you didn’t like on a channel you didn’t watch with a dull pain brewing in the middle of your chest that you chose to actively ignore.

and that was the third mistake.

i’ll just end it here for part one. please reblog and like so i know you want this multi-shot to continue! also all my star wars babies- peep those references heheheheheheh

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afurrybutthememekind · 5 years ago

Text

Jason ‘Jace’ Kingston

Jace is honestly such an odd character for me. I usually do the more sarcastic and dickish characters like Luke and Alix. He’s a bit of a refresher because he’s a good excuse for me to get cutesy and shit when I’m usually all hard edges and sarcasm.

The world is filled with nice people. If you can’t find one, be one.

Jace is often the happiest when he’s helping someone else. Some of the people in his life are worried that he’ll get taken advantage of because he’s so friendly. He likes to see the best in people but is all too aware of the worst too. He isn’t fond of people that become jaded and mean just because their lives have been difficult but he’ll still be friendly with them. He’s perfectly capable of standing up for himself but doesn’t do it often. He would much rather let someone think they’ve pulled one over on him than actually do it to someone more naive.

Pets:

One very friendly mutt named Sherlock

Stats:

Charming 61% - Intimidating 39%

Impulsive 61% - Cautious 39%

Sarcastic 34% - Genuine 66%

Friendly 80% - Stoic 20%

Easygoing 63% - Stubborn 37%

Traits:

Heart 70% - Mind 30%

Optimist 63% - Pessimist 37%

Team Player 81% - Independent 19%

Skills:

People/Psychology 79%

Combat/Physical 0%

Science/Technology 53%

Deduction/Knowledge 13%

By the Book 46% - Bend the Rules 54%

Professional Relationships:

Mayor Friedman: 1

Police Captain: 1

Personal Relationships:

Rebecca - very close relationship, even with her absences - 85%

Bobby - College friend. I barely remember the relationship.

Unit Bravo:

Adam-Teammate

Nate-RO

Felix-BFF

Mason-Teammate

Description:

Eyes - light green

Hair - dark blond-short

Height - 5’3

Age - 25

Facial hair - 5 o’clock shadow

Tattoos - none

Clothes - college hoodie, jeans, sneakers

Cologne - rarely

Glasses - no

Body type - lean

Voice - friendly, soft, bright

Apartment:

cosy

Book 1:

Did not shoot Adam.

Joined Wayhaven PD to help people.

Went out to the bar and saved Douglas.

Confused by vampires.

Did blood tests.

Did not get bit by Murphy.

Murphy captured.

Inside Jace’s apartment:

Everyone is always welcome at Jace’s apartment. He wants everyone to have somewhere they feel comfortable and safe. No matter what time it is, if you show up on Jace’s door he’ll let you in and make you feel welcome.

He likes having lots of natural light to read in. Though he has a tendency to fall asleep in the warm light with his coffee.

He once built a pillow fort with Nate and it’s still set up in the middle of the room. He sleeps in it a lot with his dog and insists he’ll take it down later whenever anyone asks. He won’t take it down. Often times he fixes it and re-sets it up if it gets knocked down. Setting it up with Nate is his favorite memory and he is overly sentimental.

Vision for the Future:

Jace doesn’t really know where he wants his life to end up. All he knows for sure is that he wants to get there with Nate. He’s already sure that Nate is the one. He wholeheartedly believes in love at first sight and he knows that he loves Nate. He wants as many dogs and kids as he reasonably can and would prefer to adopt both.

He’s fairly happy with his career as both detective and liaison to the Agency. If any future growth is offered he’s not sure he’ll take it. Part of him still misses being an officer but he hasn’t stopped patrolling and will never stop as long as he has his badge.

Past:

Jace was pretty popular in school. He made an effort to be friendly with a lot of the outcasted kids and his peers often confided in him. He wasn’t particularly worried about sports and was happily a B student. Often he’d go out to parties and was always the designated driver. He used to drink socially in school but after a some of his classmates were involved in a drunk driving incident he stopped and happily became the chaperonage.

In college he was still popular but was a little more focused on his studies than partying. He still made an effort to be sociable and available for anyone that needed him. After Bobby betrayed him he cut off all ties and moved on with his life, making an effort not to let it weigh him down or affect how he interacted with people.

#The Wayhaven Chronicles #twc detective #detective jason kingston

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nobodies-png · 6 years ago

Note

ORG XIII Bullet point lists win. Instant follow. Have you already done a thing about when you [reader] play with their hair. BC BIH I wana get my fingers on Xaldin's sideburns!

hIS SIDEBURNS ? ? wHAT AN ICON - okay but a lotta dudes in the org have long hair and oH BOY IM JUST HERE LIKE O O F, loVE ME SOME MEN WITH LONG HAIR

also big soz for the inactivity, i’ve been trying to get a lotta drafts done to fill up the queue and empty the askbox wheeze

Xemnas :

You must have balls of steel if you can ask the s u p e r i o r if you can play with his hair without stuttering - but nonetheless, you manage to do it! And you don’t seem to be in any trouble, considering Xemnas’ intrigued grin. “Go on, then” he’d tell you and you’d just stay there unsure like “Uhhh for real ? right n o w?” He probably gets a kick outta this, seeing how far you’ll go before chickening out (like a c o W A R D).

But you’re way too curious to figure out how the fuck his hair works to back out now. While you occupy yourself unraveling the m y s t e r i e s, he’ll merely watch - maybe chat with you . You know how pretty much everyone has a personal scent ? This guy lives up to his title, cause he’s got none. His hair is also super thin so you feel like you’re just trying to grasp n o t h i n g.

Xigbar :

The first thing he does is nudge your side, jokingly asking you shit like “aren’t we a bit too old for that cutesy shit?” while untying his ponytail and making himself comfortable on your lap. W h a t ? It’s not fair that you’re the only one having fun, right ? You can’t help but just roll your eyes at his smug sneer - maybe you should’ve chosen s o m e o n e else for this.

We know how Xigbar is. He’s not gonna shut the fuck up no matter what you do or how many times you ask him - so you just end up having some s a s s y friendly banter, with you pointing out his grey hairs or giving him ridiculous styles while he pretends to be offended. It’s an overall fun time ! Until he refuses to move from his spot on your lap because he’s “too comfortable there”, that is.

Xaldin :

The chances of him willingly letting you get your way are lower than Demyx’s motivation to work. Unless it’s a life or death situation, he’s not going to let you play with his hair - the trick is to ask him when he’s too busy to actually realize what he just agreed to, catching him by surprise. A promise’s a promise, dude, can’t go back on one !

Unlike many others, he won’t let his hair loose just so you can have the pleasure of playing with it. Xaldin will probably give you like 10 minutes cause he has better things to do than to watch you use his hair as a moustache. If you’re brave enough to go for the sideburns, he’d p a n i c and get slightly flustered cause that shit tickles - but he’d try to endure it until you’re done.

Vexen :

I’m torn between Vexen never noticing whenever someone touches his hair cause it’s suuuper long and he just doesn’t give two fucks about it. Or him being hella aware of it cause LONG LOOSE HAIR IN A LAB IS A DANGER HAZARD AND A CATASTROPHE WAITING TO HAPPEN. So I g u e s s I’ll go with the l a t t e r.

Vexen is used to having his hair toyed with because of Zexion (the boy could be a little r a s c a l when he wanted) so he’s not even surprised when you ask him. Well, okay maybe a little. He’d tell you to do as you please, as long as you don’t distract him from work - in the end, he’d enjoy the feeling of your fingers running through his hair ! Maybe he’ll let you do that more often. Y’know, for s c i e n c e.

Lexaeus :

Lexaeus has no problem letting you play with his hair. His only concern is finding a decent position for you to reach his head, without him having to b r e a k his back bending or you having to do some sick parkour. Once that’s settled, you can do whatever you want while he just silently observes or solves one of his puzzle thingies.

Even though neither of you are talking, the atmosphere it’s pretty pleasant and lighthearted. Sometimes you just call out his name from time to time, to make sure he hasn’t fallen asleep lol. Like Luxord, Lexaeus also thinks this situation is kinda comical - like come on he’s the biggest dude in the Organization and here he is, having his hair played with.

Zexion :

At first he’d be startled and cower away in surprise like “e x c u s e me?? WHAT are you doing ?”. Like he’d gladly let you play with his hair, but he’s not used to people touching him so suddenly - just try to give him a heads up the next time. At first it’ll be awkward, cause he just c a n ‘ t stop fidgeting around, extremely aware of the sudden intimacy and closeness of the situation. No he’s definitely not blushing, get some g l a s s e s.

It might take some time for Zexion to get used to it. Mostly cause he feels so n a k e d with the other half of his face exposed - He’ll have his nose buried in his lexicon to avoid eye contact. I can see him totally warming up to the idea and just letting you mess with his hair while he reads a book outloud for the two of you.

Saix :

If you try to ask for permission, Saix will probably say no, so just go for it and pray that he rolls with it. Surprisingly, he does ! Well, more like he hasn’t bitten your hand off - yet. If he’s in a bad mood, prepare for some q u e s t i o n i n g. A half-assed smart sounding explanation will do the trick. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll let you do your thing as long as you don’t distract him too much.

Most likely to purr or just make barely audible b u t hella cute little noises when you play with his hair (i’m getting Saix Puppy flashbacks now, great) You could probably get away with making little cute braids and he won’t notice at all. Try not to be in his field of vision once he does cause he’ll go b e r s e r k on your ass and take away your hair fiddling privileges.

Axel :

Kinda reluctant. He’d poke fun at your eagerness to play with his hair to cover the fact that he’s KINDA embarrassed about this. Probably will let you have your way but only if you two are alone at the Clock Tower - he doesn’t want Xion or Roxas to try and imitate you if they see you. Like come on, there’s a r e p u t a t i o n here to mantain !

Thanks to the latest KH3 trailers we’ve confirmed that his hair is not just a bunch of deadly spikes stuck with hot glue to his head, but instead it’s S O F T. So yes, playing with Axel’s hair is f u n - even with that permanent scent of fire and burning wood he emits. He likes to see what kind of new style you can come up with. Manbun ? Pigtails ? Braids ? Valid. He’s partial to the low ponytail and will often wear it around the castle.

Demyx

Will strongly refuse at first - mostly cause he puts a L O T of time and gel ever day to perfectionate …whatever the fuck his hair even is. And he doesn’t want you ruining it ! With enough nagging and puppy eyes, Demyx will eventually give in and let you do whatever you want. Okay but his hair has a w e i r d texture with all the products he uses ?

Your hand will probably get stuck there too, so you better wait until like, he takes a shower to wash it all off. THEN you can just play with that fluffy mane. Demyx looks like a completely different person with his hair down, so he’ll be a bit hesitant, afraid you’ll laugh at him - but then he’d discover that he l o v e s when you play with his hair ! He’d pester you to do that whenever you two hang out cause it’s so relaxing.

Luxord :

His first reaction is to just laugh. Well, y’know not a full blown laugh but like a Polite Amused British Chuckle™. W h a t could you possibly want to play with ? He doesn’t have crazy long hair like most of the members in the Organization so he finds this kinda silly - buuut if you’re up for a quick game, he might just indulge you. Only if you win of course.

…Obviously, he lets you win. But you c a n ‘ t really complain about it cause now you get to play with his hair ! Huzzah ! Luxord is a talker, so he’ll just ramble on and on about how endearing and funny this situation is, joking about how lucky you are to have this privilege and b l a h b l a h. You don’t have to worry cause you’ll soon start to hear his light snores.

Marluxia :

Marluxia takes pride in his hair and overall appearance, so he k n o w s how badly you wanna play with that p i n k fluffy mane. If you’re gentle, he’ll gladly grant you the honour of touching it, enjoying your little surprised gasps and hearing you mutter things like “so fluffy and soft !” under your breath. It doesn’t matter if you’re his S/O, he’ll never tell you his secrets !

But he will give you some unsolicited tips and advice on how to take care of yours cause that’s just how he is. His smug and condescending attitude slowly dissipate as he starts to relax, though. Like the others, he m i g h t start to doze off while you do your thing, but Marluxia will try to keep up his cool façade - brushing you off with the excuse of being busy, with the sleepiest expression on his face.

Larxene :

Y e a h - No. Larxene refuses to be seen without her iconic hairstyle, she’ll let you play with those w e i r d antennae she’s got going on but that’s it. Take it or leave it. You don’t know if this is just normal or if she does it on purpose, but sometimes you feel a little s h o c k whenever you reach out for those two strands of hair. But hey, you’re the only one allowed to get that close to Larxene so, kudos to you.

You c a n, however, play with her hair while she sleeps ! Don’t worry about waking her up, she’s a heavy sleeper. Unless you come in banging pots and shit, she’s not waking up any time soon. Larxene will unconsciously lean into your touch, her face visibly softening while you mess with her thin locks. Just never tell her that you do this or she’ll forbid you from entering her room ever again.

Roxas :

Roxas is c o n f u s e d, he’ll move away on instinct and ask if you were trying to pull a prank on him or if you stuck something to his hair. When you tell him that you just like playing with it because the spikes are fun to touch, he’ll pout and get slightly flustered - but will let you continue anyway. It doesn’t matter how hard you try to mess up his hairstyle, it always returns to it’s original s t a t e. It’s like m a g i c.

Since you started doing that, he’s noticed he has been paying more attention to his hair. Roxas never cared about appearances, but the fact that you like something so specific as his hair pretty much inflates his ego a bit. He’d put a little bit more care into it, spending more time in front of the mirror every morning - lowkey hoping you’d notice.

Xion :

Also confused, but instead of stopping you, Xion would imitate your actions - twirling one of your locks around her finger with an amused smile on her face. After a while she’d innocently ask “what exactly are we doing?” and you’ll have to explain the entire concept to her between laughs.

When you tell her that you like playing with her hair, she’d totally blush and feel a bit self-conscious. What if your hands get tangled in a knot or something ? Did she brush it properly ? Wait - She doesn’t even have to with how short it is ! Maybe she should try letting it grow - But yeah, Xion would l o v e this. She’d sit on your lap or between your legs letting you make little braids and whatever while you two chill and talk during breaks.

#kh headcanons #reader insert #organization xiii #xemnas #xigbar #xaldin #vexen #lexaeus #zexion #saix #axel #demyx #luxord #marluxia #larxene #roxas #xion #sweetsistergingerspice

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writingpuddle · 6 years ago

Note

anything with baby neil is my life blood right now, like de aged to four or five and just so precious and doe eyed and everyone can love on him like he deserved to have!

*shows up two months late with starbucks*

I have no idea if this is what you were looking for anon, butI sure did have fun writing it. also on AO3

—

“So,” Nicky said, huddling at the doorway withthe others. “This is fun!”

“Nicky,” Dan hissed. “Not the time!”

A pair of wide blue eyes poppedup behind the couch. Dan tried for a friendly smile, but the eyes dropped backdown the second they spotted her.

“What? It’s been awhile sincewe’ve all hung out with the ickle newbies around—”

“How the hell did this happen?” Allison demanded.

“I don’t know!” Kevin said. “Oneminute I was in the bedroom watching videos and the next moment they were—like that.”

His voice rose shrilly towardsthe end. “Shhh,” Dan said, hearing a scuffle behind the couch. “They definitelydidn’t recognize you?”

“No,” Kevin whispered, staringat the room more fearfully than Dan thought a pair of six-year-olds warranted.To be fair, she was currently repressing her own panic pretty hard. “They sawme and scattered. Andrew’s barricaded himself in the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Dan said, lookingaround. Even Renee looked incredibly off-balance. She was going to have to keepthis together or it wouldn’t be long before the whole team was in hysterics.“Okay, who here has experience with kids?”

The only thing that could’vemade the following silence more resounding was if crickets had chirped.

“None of you?” Dan said. “Fuck.”She covered her mouth, holding out a hand towards the child behind the couch.“No, don’t listen to me, don’t—”

“Dan, I’m pretty sure Neil hassaid a hell of a lot worse than that—”

“He doesn’t remember thatthough!” Dan rubbed her hand over her short hair, taking a fortifying breath.“Alright, Kevin, call Coach, tell him to get his ass here as fast as possible.”Then maybe she could have a proper meltdown. “Allison, try and look up someonewho might have expertise in this kind of—whatever.Renee, try to lure Andrew out. Matt, you’re with me.”

“Oh, let me help!” Nicky said.“I’m sure I’m great with kids!”

“I think they’re going to need abit more subtlety, Nicky.”

“Come on! Don’t forget Ipractically raised Andrew and Aaron, and they turned out alright!”

The others just stared at him.Nicky deflated a little. “Alright, you may have a point.”

“Just…order food or something.Keep it simple, kids don’t like fancy stuff.”

Nicky nodded, eager to help. Dantook another deep breath, and stepped into the living room.

She tucked herself in beside thecouch, crouching down to seem less frightening. “Hey, there,” she said, andwinced internally at the horrible, cutesy voice coming out of her mouth. Mostof her experience with kids had been her aunt’s squalling baby.

The tiny child huddled behindthe couch stared at her, wide-eyed. Dan didn’t have a good sense of thesethings, but he couldn’t have been much more than four, still round-cheeked andchubby. “It’s okay,” she said. “You’re safe. Do you know how you got here?”

Toddler-Neil shrank a little bitfurther. “Where’s my mommy?”

Dan inhaled sharply, her chestsqueezing. “She’s not here right now, but we’re taking care of you right now.My name is Dan, this is Matt.”

“Hi!” Matt said, with a big grinand a wave.

The little boy’s eyes jumped toMatt and he flinched, shrinking behind the back of the couch. “Oh no, Neil,it’s okay,” Matt said hurriedly. “Shh. Shh.”

“I want my mommy,” Neilwhimpered, squeezing into a tight ball.

“I know, sweetie, I know,” Dansaid, gesturing Matt to get back. He backed away, drooping. “Do you wantsomething to drink? Some juice?”

“I want my mommy!”

“She’s going to be here soon,”Dan lied. “Why don’t you come watch TV with us?”

A soft tap came at her shoulder.She looked up, and Nicky held out a glass of milk with a shrug. She acceptedit, turning back to little Neil. “Hey, Nicky got you some milk. Isn’t thatnice?”

Neil’s face screwed up, hischubby cheeks growing redder.

“Oh, no, Neil, shh. It’s okay.”

“My name’s not Neil!”

“Oh,” she said dumbly, glancingaround for help.

“Nathaniel,” Aaron supplied fromwhere he stood behind the kitchen counter. Dan supposed this was all probably prettyshocking to him too, considering his twin was also shrunk, but right now sheneeded to focus on the immediate problem.

“Right. Nathaniel.” Shegrimaced. The memory of Neil’s flinch whenever the name was spoken made hermouth taste foul. “Can I call you Nate?”

Neil’s big bottom lip trembledas he watched her. “Lola calls me Natty.”

“Who’s—” She stopped, spottingMatt’s desperate gesture from the corner of his eye.

He tapped his finger to hischeek. “She’s the one that—”

“Right. Okay. Nate sounds good,right? How old are you, Nate?”

“Four.”

“Wow. You must know a lot ofcool stuff by now. Um.” Fuck. Oh, fuckit had been a long time since she talked to kids. “Do you play Exy?”

Aaron made an exasperated noise,but it was the exact right thing to say. Neil’s whole face lit up, starry eyed.“Exy is the best!”

“It’s totally the best!” sheenthused. “Can I tell you something cool?”

Neil nodded hard, his curlsbobbing and falling into his face.

“We all play on an Exy teamtogether. I’m the team captain!”

“Are you good?” Neil demanded.

“We’re the best.”

“Wow,” Neil said, scootingforward a few inches. “I wanna play, but mommy says I’m too little.”

“You are very little,” Dan saidin a serious tone.

“Am not!” Neil said indignantly.“I’m four.”

“Sorry. I’m sure you’re very bigfor a four-year-old.

Neil scrunched up his face, alittle pouty. “Not little.”

Dan actually smiled at his tinysulk. “Are you hungry?”

Neil picked at the carpet.“Yeah.”

Dan shot an inquiring glanceover at Nicky. “Pizza’s coming in half an hour,” he said.

She turned back to Neil. “Do youlike pizza?”

“I guess.”

“Okay. Is there something you dolike?”

Neil’s shoulders hunchednervously. “Mommy says I should eat whatever she says.”

Dan had to physically restrainthe anger that surged through her. How dare that woman treat Neil—

She was dead, Dan remindedherself. Neil’s mother was dead, and nobody was going to hurt him ever again.

“Well, mommy isn’t here rightnow, so you can eat anything you want.”

Neil’s eyes peeked up at herfrom under his hair. “Anything?”

“Yup.”

He picked at the carpet foranother couple seconds. Finally, he whispered, “Hotdogs.”

“Okay. Hotdogs it is. Nicky, dowe need to do a grocery run?”

Nicky ran to the freezer andflung it open. “Uhhh, so we’ve got burgers—”

“Neil—sorry, Nate wantshotdogs.”

“Okay, I’ll just—” He paused.“So would it be wrong of me to take Andrew’s car, considering the only twodrivers should definitely not have their licenses right now?”

“Nicky,” Dan growled.

“Right! I’m off!”

“And get some toys or somethingwhile you’re out.”

“Got it. Aaron, come with?”

Aaron looked deeplyuncomfortable, but he nodded.

When the door closed behindthem, Dan settled back against the side of the couch, holding her arms out toNeil. “Okay, so we’ll make hotdogs soon. Want to watch TV?”

Neil stared at her for a longmoment, then abruptly threw himself into her arms, latching onto her side likea limpet. Dan scooped him up, cradling his tiny, soft body in her arms andtrying to hold him clear of the milk glass.

“You’re so nice,” Neil murmuredagainst her sweater, squeezing his chubby arms around her neck. He smelledclean, like soap and baby powder, and Dan’s heart melted as she hefted him up.She crooned softly against his head, smoothing his silky curls with one hand asshe got to her feet.

“Oh my god,” Matt breathed, eyeswide. “Oh my god, he’s so cute.”

Dan kept bouncing Neil gently,an involuntary smile on her lips. “Can you check how Renee’s doing?”

Matt stared at her for anotherlong second, looking hypnotized.

“Matt?” she prompted.

“Right,” he said, skirting theroom to give her and Neil lots of space. Dan settled on the couch, rubbingNeil’s back. He nestled into her side, warm and solid.

She could just see the hallwayout of the corner of her eye, so she noticed immediately when Renee and Mattemerged from the bathroom a minute later. Renee had her head ducked down, apainted-on smile on her face, and beside her—

Holy shit.

Andrew was nearly as small asNeil, his hair glowing platinum blond. His hand was firmly wrapped around two ofRenee’s fingers, eyes suspicious as he cast about the room. “You said there wasice cream?” he demanded.

Renee’s smile eased a littleinto something more genuine. “I promised,” she said, tugging him over to thekitchen. Matt hovered in the hallway behind them, staring over at Dan andmouthing, “Oh my god.”

Dan could only nod, mute. Andrewwas so small, so fragile—her arms tightened around Neil protectively. They werechildren for God’s sake. It had neverreally struck her before that either of them had ever been this small—it feltlike they’d manifested directly into hard-eyed young men. How stupid of her—

Neil squeaked in protest,squirming out of her grip. “Sorry,” she said, loosening her arms, but he hadalready forgotten, clambering up the back of the couch to stare over at Reneeand Andrew with wide eyes. He attempted to climb right over the top of thecouch and Dan grabbed him, airlifting him to the floor.

He toddled off quickly, grabbingone of the barstools for support and staring at Andrew. “Your hair looks dumb,”he announced.

Tiny Andrew scowled. “Your facelooks dumb!”

Matt looked like Christmas hadcome early. He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, and grinned over at Dan.She buried her head in her hands, uncontrollable-borderline-hysterical laughterbubbling up in her chest.

The door swung open, lettingAllison in with a fog of rose-scented perfume. “Alright, I got a hold of somequack PhD at the university who claims to deal with this shit, but he—”

Whatever he said was lost.Allison froze in the middle of the living room, gaping at the scene in thekitchen. “Holy fuck?”

“Allison,” Renee, Dan and Matt said.

“Fuck,” Neil said.

“Neil!” Matt said.

“Fuck!” Andrew said.

“This is a disaster,” Dan said.

Allison sat down in an armchair,looking absolutely floored. Renee pulled a pile of bowls out of the cupboard,portioning out half a dozen scoops of ice cream. Allison blinked, pointing afinger at the two children, then closing her eyes for a long moment. “So, thisPhD assho—”

“Allison,” Dan warned.

Allison glared at her. “This guy says it’s a quantum flux, orsomething, and there’s no telling how long it’ll last. He says it usually wearsoff within a few days, but if it doesn’t, we should take them in for testing athis lab.”

“We’re not taking them into a lab,” Matt said, affronted.

“Well, we can’t just leave themlike this,” Dan said.

“Like what?” Neil asked,sneaking up behind Renee’s leg and poking Andrew in the stomach.

Andrew grabbed Neil’s hair, pullingit hard.

“Owwww,” Neil whined, boltingback to the living room and wrapping his arms around Dan’s knee.

Renee frowned down at Andrew.“That was mean, Andrew,” she said.

“He started it!”

“That doesn’t mean you get to bemean to him. He’s younger than you.”

“He started it,” Andrew sulked.

Renee cast her gaze over thegroup with a pleading expression.

No aid was to be found. Healthychildhoods were in short supply among the Foxes; Dan wasn’t sure if any of them knew a good way to teach akid a moral lesson.

Renee sighed, offering Andrewhis bowl of ice cream. He jumped up, eyes brightening. “You have to promise notto pull Neil’s hair again,” she said severely.

“What if he pulls mine first?”

“Then you’ll tell me, and I’ll dealwith it,” she said.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay,” Andrew said solemnly.

Neil rubbed his face againstDan’s knee and she bent down, scooping him up. “Do you want some ice creamtoo?” she asked. She was pretty sure they had this all backwards. They weresupposed to give kids dinner before dessert. This had to count as extenuatingcircumstances, though.

“Yeah,” Neil mumbled, peekingover her shoulder towards where Renee was setting the table. Andrew clamberedup into a chair, grasping a spoon in his fist and digging into his ice creamlike he thought someone was going to take it away.

Actually, that was probablyexactly what he thought. Dan rubbed a hand up Neil’s back, as much for her ownsake as his, and carried him over to the table, sitting at the far end. Neiltwisted around but made no move to leave her lap, so she kept her arms in aloose circle around him as Renee put a small bowl of vanilla ice cream in frontof them.

Allison still looked leery ofthe two children, but she took a seat at Renee’s insistent gesture. Matt satnext to her and Renee took the head of the table in what had to be the weirdestteam dinner they’d ever had.

“So, Andrew,” Dan asked, “haveyou ever played Exy?”

“No,” he said, shooting her asullen look.

Well, that was never going towork twice.

“Have you started school yet?”she tried.

“I go to Mrs. C,” he said.

“That’s cool,” she said, as sheknew what that meant. “Do you like her?”

“She smells funny,” he said.“Her books are good. Sometimes she reads to us and it’s really nice.”

“What’s your favourite book?”

“The Giving Tree.”

A round of blinks went betweenthe adults at the table. Renee rallied first, smiling at Andrew. “I really likethat book,” she said. “Why is it your favourite?”

“It’s kind of sad but alsohappy. And Mrs. C always does weird voices.”

“I like The Paper Bag Princess,”Neil announced.

Andrew made a face at him.“That’s a girl’s book.”

“No, it’s not!”

“Books can be for boys andgirls,” Matt said.

“What’s the Paper Bag Princessabout?” Renee asked, distracting Andrew by scooping a little extra ice creaminto his bowl.

Neil launched into a longexplanation of the story which left the Foxes more confused than when they’dstarted. His ice cream melted into a puddle of sugary soup and he didn’t arguewhen Andrew stole it and noisily slurped it down.

A hammering at the door madethem all jump. “It’s unlocked,” Matt called, and Wymack breezed in with Kevinon his heels.

He stopped in the doorway,surveying the scene. “Oh,” he said dumbly. “So Kevin wasn’t drunk.”

Kevin looked affronted. “Youthink I would joke—”

“I think if you’d coached theFoxes as long as I have, you’d have some trust issues, too,” Wymack said.

Neil squirmed on Dan’s lap,wriggling up so he could flatten himself against her body. His eyes were gluedto Wymack, wide and fearful.

“Uh, Coach,” Dan said, wincing.“Volume.”

“What?” Wymack said, then hiseyes dropped to Neil and understanding dawned. “Right,” he said, more softly.“I’m just going to call Abby. She’ll know what to do.” Which was very plainlydeflecting, and Dan wondered why she’d thought Wymack would be any help in thisat all. He was well-meaning, but he could be terribly conventional in his totalinability to deal with children.

She watched him flee into thehallway with something like resignation. Kevin approached the table tentatively,looking nearly as uncomfortable as Allison. “Hello,” he said, awkward andformal. “My name is Kevin.”

Dan steeled herself, knowingexactly what she needed to say next and hating herself for it. “He’s thegreatest Exy player of all time,” she told Neil.

His eyes lit up, but it wasAndrew who spoke up first.

“Mrs. C says tattoos are for badpeople which means you’re probably a really, really bad person because you havea tattoo on your face.”

There was a beat of silence,then Allison snorted. “Yeah, tell him, Andrew.”

Andrew shot her a suspiciouslook, but turned back to Kevin. “If you’re a bad person then Renee will hurtyou,” he said. “She’s really good at fighting. She said so.”

“Wow, Renee,” Allison said. “Whoeverknew you’d be so good with kids?”

Renee shot her a glare. “I don’tsee you doing any better,” she hissed.

Allison snickered, her pleasureat Kevin’s discomfort overriding her own awkwardness around the kids.

Nicky and Aaron chose thatmoment to arrive, a pair of grocery bags over Aaron’s wrist and a giant boxdwarfing Nicky. “I bought Lego!” Nicky sang, his face smushed and hidden behindthe giant box.

“Christ, Nicky,” Dan said. “Howmuch Lego did you buy?”

“It was on sale!”

“It’s not like—” Dan checkedherself, glancing at Andrew, who was still scowling at Kevin ratherimpressively. She sort of hoped thiswouldn’t last long, but she wasn’t going to say that out loud, not when Andrewand Neil had no memory of what had happened and abandonment issues ten mileshigh.

“Don’t look at me,” Aarongrumbled. “You think I have any control over him?” He dumped the bags of foodon the counter and regarded his twin brother. As if sensing his gaze, Andrewturned his head and stared at him.

“I got you something,” Aaronsaid, gruff, and dug a small stuffed cat out of the grocery bag.

He shoved it towards Andrew,dangling it by the neck. It swayed there, splotched in brown and white, itswhiskers drooping and bent from being shoved in the grocery bag. Andrewcontinued to stare at Aaron, eyes wary.

Aaron sighed and dropped the catinto Andrew’s lap, retreating into the kitchen. “We got hotdogs and we pickedup some more ice cream,” he said to the room at large.

“Thanks, Aaron,” Renee said, pushingher chair back and joining him. Pots and pans clattered as they set to cooking.

Nicky wobbled and finallytoppled, landing on his ass with a crash. The colourful box in his arms tippedover, rattling like a ball pit in an earthquake. “Ow,” he said woefully,rubbing his elbow and extricating himself from under the box.

“Do you want to play Legos?” Danasked, looking down at Neil. He’d already forgotten all about Kevin.

“What’s Legos?” Neil asked

“Oh man,” Matt said. “Legos arethe greatest. You can build anything!”

“Yeah?” Neil said, twisting hishand in Dan’s sweater and turning his big blue eyes on Matt. Dan couldpractically see Matt turning to goo at the sight.

“Totally! Do you want to try?”

Neil’s hand pinched Dan’s stomachas he twisted, nervous. She bit back a grimace, hefting Neil in her arms to tryand loosen his grip. “Matt’s very good at Legos,” she said, having never seenhim play with Legos before in her life. “And you can have a hotdog after.”

“Okay,” Neil said, voice small.

It wasn’t enthusiasm, but shecould work with that. “How about you, Andrew?”

Andrew looked up from his lap,jumping. “What?”

She caught a peek of the stuffedcat in his lap disappearing under his shirt and wisely said nothing. “Do youwant to play Legos with Nei—Nate?”

“No,” Andrew said.

“Okay,” Dan said. “Come on,Nate, let’s get the Lego set up.”

She lifted him off her lap andplaced him on the ground. He latched onto her leg immediately, giggling whenshe tried to take a step. “Hey,” she said, looking down at him.

He giggled again and wrapped hislegs around her ankle like a koala. She huffed and swung her foot through, hisweight like a tiny boulder on the end of her leg. “I’m going to need achiropractor after this,” she muttered as she heaved Neil into the living room.Matt snorted.

“Alright,” she said when they reached the Legobox. “You have to let go now.”

Neil’s hands just tightened,pinching her muscles uncomfortably. “Hey, buddy, we can’t play Legos with youattached to my leg.”

“You’re going to play too?” heasked, peeking up at her.

Oh. There were the abandonmentissues again. “Yeah, definitely,” she said.

Neil slowly let go, creepingforward towards the box. Nicky had already wrested the top open with a pair ofscissors, and was pulling the plastic packaging off of a giant bin of looseLego pieces. Dan gestured to Matt to sit, and he squashed down immediately, bigand gangly on the floor.

Dan grabbed the paperinstruction manual and folded her legs to sit next to Neil. “Hey, look, we canmake a race car. Isn’t that cool?”

Neil stared at the pictures andpointed at one of the others. “Rocket ship!”

“What do you think, Matt? Can wemake a rocket ship?”

“I dunno,” Matt said, toneserious but eyes dancing. “It looks pretty complicated. But if Nate’s helpingus, I bet we could do it.”

Dan smiled at him over Neil’shead and his lips quirked up at her, lopsided and sweet.

“We need orange bits for thefire,” Neil said, studying the picture intently.

“Okay,” Matt said. “Can you helpme find some?”

Dan leaned back on her hands,watching as Matt and Neil dug through the bin of Lego together. Nicky hoveredfor another second, hands wringing and eyes wide and adoring, then he met hereye and fled to the kitchen to help with the hot dogs.

Dan’s breath left her in a slowexhale. This was probably going to interfere with their season, she thoughtidly. They had a game tomorrow night, and the freshmen were definitely notready to cover for Andrew and Neil. They’d manage, though. They always did. Shewatched as Neil unfurled, his fearfulness evaporating in the face of Matt’sunwavering warmth, and felt settled, like a cat curling up in a sunbeam.

Pizza arrived almost exactly thesame moment as the hotdogs were ready, and chaos broke loose as the Foxesscrambled to make sure Andrew and Neil both got whatever they wanted. Neil gotketchup all over his shirt—she was about 90% sure that was actually one of hisreal shirts, shrunk down with him—and Andrew made lofty comments about howmessy and dumb he was until Nicky smudged pizza sauce on his nose, making himshriek.

Neil grabbed Dan’s hand andtugged her back towards the Lego. She bit back a groan of exhaustion. “Howabout you play with Matt for a bit? I’ll be right here.”

“But we’re not done the rocketship!”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m notyoung like you. I’m very old and slow.”

She made a show of hunching herback and creaking her way towards the couch and Neil giggled in delight, hunchinghis shoulders and tottering after her.

“Come on, squirt,” Matt said,holding out his hand. “Let’s finish that rocket ship.”

“You’re making a rocket ship?”Andrew asked.

“Yep,” Matt said. “Wanna join?”

“I don’t want him to play withus,” Neil said, stomping his foot. “He’s a meanie!”

Andrew’s face screwed up. “WellI don’t want to make a dumb rocket ship anyway!”

“Guys, guys, shhh,” Matt saidfrantically. “Neil, you shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’m not Neil!”

“Sorry, Nate, buddy—”

“He’s mean!”

“And now you’re being mean.”

Neil stopped, staring up atMatt. “No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Now, how aboutyou say sorry for being mean to Andrew, and then he’ll say sorry to you. Andthen we can all build the rocket ship.”

“I’m not saying sorry,” Andrewsulked.

“Andrew,” Nicky said. “That’sbad manners.”

Andrew kicked his foot againstthe ground, and he hugged the stuffed cat against his stomach almost angrily.“Sorry,” he muttered, unconvincingly.

Nicky looked stunned that his reprimandhad worked. Dan couldn’t help but feel the same way. Andrew didn’t apologizefor anything.

Neil scowled at the carpet.

“Nate,” Matt said. “It’s yourturn.”

“He was mean first,” Neilmuttered.

“He said sorry.”

“Fine.” Neil scrunched up hisface, glaring at Andrew. “I’m sorry,” he said, in what had to be the leastapologetic voice Dan had ever heard.

Matt covered his eyes, his lipscurling with repressed laughter. Dan retreated to where Renee and Allison saton the couch, watching as Nicky and Matt tried to wrangle the two boys towardsthe Lego pile.

Aaron hovered beside the couch,watching with a frown creasing his forehead. Dan tapped her finger against herthigh, looking up at him. “It’s probably not permanent,” she reminded him.“They’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

“You don’t know that for sure,”Aaron said. “What if—”

He cut off, his nostrilsflaring, the whites of his eyes flickering in the light.

“We’ll deal with that if itcomes to it,” she said. Aaron shoved his hands in his pockets, his expressionpinched. He didn’t look reassured.

Dan glanced back at the kidsplaying in the Lego, unsure how to comfort him. Neil had just knocked overMatt’s rocket ship; it looked like he was trying to build his own now.

“Daaaan,” Matt whined. “Nate isbullying me.”

“Am not!” Neil said. “Matt isjust dumb!”

Andrew pulled the top off of thetower Nicky was building and pulled out all the red pieces, piling them to theside. Nicky pouted, trying to steal one of Andrew’s red pieces and nearlygetting his hand bitten for his trouble. Andrew added the red pieces to a smallsquare wall and carefully placed his stuffed cat inside.

“He really seems to like thatstuffie,” she said.

“Yeah,” Aaron said.

They watched the kids’ anticsfor another couple seconds before Aaron sank into the beanbag chair next to thecouch, chewing on his thumbnail. “I had one like that when I was little,” hesaid. “I brought it everywhere.”

“Huh,” Dan said. “Wow.”

Neil only lasted another twentyminutes before he started drooping, covering yawns with his hands. He crawledout of the pile of Legos he’d accumulated and toddled over to Dan, burying hisface in her knee.

“Hey, buddy,” she said,smoothing her hand through his hair. “Ready for bed?”

“No,” he said petulantly, butlet her lift him up and cuddle him against her chest.

“I don’t suppose anyone has apyjama shirt that would fit him?” Dan asked, not hopeful.

“I picked some up at Walmart,”Aaron said. “They’re on the counter.”

“Oh,” Dan said. “Thanks. How’sthat sound, Nate? Want to check out your new pyjamas?”

He nodded, his face smushed intoher collarbone. “Okay,” she said, hauling herself off the couch with a grunt.She transferred Neil to her right arm, propping him on her hip so she could up-endthe bag onto the counter. “Dinosaurs or cats?”

“Dinosaws,” Neil mumbled.

“Awesome,” she said, grabbingthe matching t-shirt and pants

“Want mommy.”

“I know,” Dan said, hefting himup a little higher. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

“Not tired.”

“Sure,” she said. “Whatever yousay.”

She carried him into thebathroom, grimacing at the state of it. Boys.Two of the three towels hanging up looked like they hadn’t been washed inmonths; they smelled it, too. The sink was crusted in grime and powderytoothpaste residue, and the counter was littered in nail clippings and stubblyhairs.

Dan lowered Neil to the bathmat, holding out the pyjama shirt. He raised his arms expectantly.

“I’m not dressing you,” shesaid. “You gotta help me here.”

“Mommy always does,” Neilsulked.

Dan pursed her lips. “Can youpull your shirt off? I’ve got your new one ready.”

Neil squirmed, wrestling withhis t-shirt like a fish in the grasp of an octopus. He got one arm out of hissleeve but got stuck, and Dan had to pull on his other sleeve to get him out.She held the pyjama shirt out and he wriggled into it. Backwards, but Danwasn’t about to get particular.

She hesitated at his pants. Wasthis weird? Neil was her teammate.She shouldn’t be seeing him naked. This was just—

She shoved the thoughts aside;Neil was four, and she was going to be professional about this, damnit. Shetugged on his waistband and he obliged, pushing his pants down with theunselfconsciousness of childhood. She stripped them off his feet quickly andhelped him step into the pyjama bottoms, turning her head partially away. It was weird, but only because everythingabout today was weird.

He latched onto her hand once hewas dressed and she stood, knees popping from kneeling on the tile floor. “Bedtime?” she asked.

“Okay,” Neil said, leaningagainst her knee for a moment. She tugged and he followed her into the hallway.

“Hey, Kevin,” she said, tiltingher head towards the bedroom. “Which bed can Nate use?”

Kevin hurried up from thekitchen table, squirreling a small bottle of something into his pocket. Dangave him a hard look, which he avoided, ducking past them into the bedroom.

It was slightly less gross thanthe bathroom, though there was still a fugue of musty laundry smell over theroom. “Neil’s bed is the loft,” Kevin said, kicking a pair of dirty boxersunder the bed.

“Gross,” Dan said, side-eyeinghim. Kevin at least had the good grace to look a little ashamed of himself.“Which one’s yours?”

Kevin frowned in confusion, butpointed across the room at the single bunk. “Alright,” Dan said, giving him upas a lost cause and leading Neil over to what she presumed was Andrew’s bed,beneath Neil’s. She wasn’t putting a toddler in a loft.

Neil clambered up clumsily,hanging onto Dan with one hand. She let herself be drawn down, ducking her headto sit on the bottom bunk with him. The sheets, at least, were blessedly clean.

Neil burrowed down into theblankets, the tufts of his curls spilling out over the pillow. His eyes blinkedup at her, sleep-heavy but worried.

“Hey, buddy,” she said softly,smoothing his hair with one hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Neil mumbled, but shewasn’t fooled. His grip on her fingers hadn’t loosened yet.

“Um,” she said, casting aroundfor inspiration. Kevin stood in the doorway, hugging himself anxiously. “Do youwant me to sing?”

Neil scooted a little closer toher. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” She paused. Singingwasn’t really her thing. “Okay.”

She took a deep breath andstarted to sing, voice low and quiet. Neil scrunched down into the bunk,staring up at her with half-lidded eyes.

Amazing grace

How sweet the sound…

She kept singing even as Neil’seyes slipped closed, his face pushed into the pillow. His grip slowly went laxuntil finally she was able to gently tuck his hand under the blanket and easeup off the mattress.

Kevin still stood in thedoorway, and Dan jerked her head towards the living room. She closed the doorpartway and padded softly into the main room, where Nicky was arguing Andrewinto a pair of footie pyjamas with little cat ears on the hood. Dan droppedonto the couch with a groan, resting her head against Renee’s shoulder. Reneewrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back.

“Couldn’t we just have one quietyear?” Dan asked. “One year where we can just relax and focus on Exy?”

“At least it’s not the mafiathis time,” Allison said. “Just space-time itself fucking with us. You know,normal shit.”

Andrew perked up from across theroom, like he had some kind of weird swear-word radar. “She said a bad word,”he said.

“Stop eavesdropping,” Allisonsaid. “It’s rude.”

Andrew glared back from underhis cat hood. “You said fuck.”

“Ooookay there, Andrew,” Nickysaid, reaching his hands out and redirecting Andrew’s attention. “Don’t listento Allison, she wasn’t raised right. We were getting ready for bed?”

Andrew frowned petulantly.“Shit,” he muttered, kicking the carpet.

Nicky shot Allison a glare. “Youare a terrible influence,” he said.

“I’m not tired,” Andrew said.

“Um,” Nicky said. “Right. So…”

“We can watch TV for a bit,” Dansuggested. That had always put her to sleep as a kid.

“Good idea,” Nicky said. “HeyAndrew, how about you take one of the bean bag chairs? Which one do you want?”

“Red one,” Andrew said, claimingit immediately and curling up like the cat he was dressed as. Nicky disappearedinto the hallway and came back with an orange and white Palmetto Foxes blanket,draping it over Andrew and the bean bag. He scrunched up, pulling the blanketaround him like a protective cocoon.

Despite his insistence that hewasn’t tired, he was out like a light by the time they had even picked achannel. They settled on Discovery, just in case he woke up again.

Nicky watched Andrew snufflesoftly in his sleep, his tiny body rising and falling with his breaths. “Shouldwe move him?” he asked, uncertain.

“He’s probably fine there,” Dansaid. “I think—” She rubbed her eyes, groaning a little with tiredness. “Ugh.We should’ve put them in our room, Kevin’s useless.”

“Hey,” Kevin said, offended.

“When was the last time youvacuumed?” she snapped. “This place is a dump.”

Kevin’s ears went red. “We’rebusy,” he said.

“You’ve got the same schedule aseveryone else, and we don’t live like this,” Dan said. “I would have expectedthis from Neil—he’s basically a wild animal—but I expected better from you.”

Kevin muttered somethingindistinct, though Dan caught the words “cleaning staff” and “night practices.”Somehow, it wasn’t a surprise that the Nest didn’t expect its athletes to cleanup after themselves.

Dan sighed. “I’ll stay on thecouch. If this goes on any longer, we’ll move them over Abby’s house. Everybodymight as well head to bed, we’ve got a game tomorrow—”

A slight creak of a doorinterrupted her. She looked up in time to spot Neil sneak into the hallway, handstwisted into his pyjama shirt.

“Hey, buddy,” Matt said. “Youokay?”

“It’s dark,” Neil mumbled.

“Oh, sorry, Nate,” Dan said,hauling herself off the couch. “Do you want me to turn on the light?”

Neil fidgeted. “Can I stay outhere?”

Dan softened, looking at hiswide, staring eyes as he hovered in the hall. “Of course, sweetie. Andrew’ssleeping out here too.”

Neil’s eyes swept over the groupof adults before he crept out of the hallway and over to Dan, leaning againsther knee. She rubbed a hand over his hair. “That’s okay,” she murmured. “Shh.Shh.”

“The scary noises always comeout when it’s dark,” Neil said, voice muffled against her jeans.

“It’s okay, Nate. You’re safe.Shh.”

Neil reached his arms up and shepicked him up, cradling him against her chest. His arms wrapped around herneck, squeezing. She kept shushing into his hair, bouncing him gently andlowering herself to a seated position next to the other bean bag chair. Neilshifted, pulling out of her arms and lying down right next to Andrew on the redbean bag.

Andrew’s eyes squinted blearily,mumbling some kind of protest. Neil ignored him, squirming under the blanketand cuddling up against Andrew. Andrew made a soft, grumbly noise, beforesettling back down, Neil’s head pillowed on his hand.

“Oh my god,” Nicky whispered.“Can we keep them?”

“Nicky,” Dan said wearily,tugging him away from the sleepy children. The Foxes followed like a hive mind,congregating in the kitchen.

“What? Everyone’s thinking it,I’m just saying it.”

“They are nicer this way,”Allison remarked. “And there’s some pretty cute kids fashion out there. I couldteach Neil to dress properly from the ground up.”

“Not you too,” Dan grumbled.

“Our season is doomed withoutthem,” Kevin said. “We have to do something—”

“This isn’t about Exy,” Dan said. “This is about gettingour friends back.”

Everyone paused. “Andrew’s notyour friend,” Aaron added helpfully.

“Thank you,” Dan said. “Come on,Matt, back me up.”

“I dunno…”

“Neil’s your best fuckingfriend. Don’t pretend you don’t want him back.”

“He is pretty cute though.” Hewrapped his arms around her waist from behind, resting his chin on top of herhead. “Face it, we’d make great parents. You’re a natural.”

“Oh god no,” she said. “I am notgoing there with you today.”

“Aw, babe—”

A resounding pop startled her out of Matt’s arms. Hereyes shot over to check if the noise had woken Neil and Andrew.

Neil stared back at her, scarredcheeks sleep-smudged and sharp. The blanket she’d draped over him was tangledaround his legs, and then Andrew’s fist lashed out, catching a glancing blow tohis ribs.

Neil scrambled away, scanningthe room with wary eyes. The dinosaur pyjamas were weirdly warped and stretchedover his adult frame, mottled purple and blue. Andrew kicked the blanket offhis legs, rolling to his feet and glaring bloody murder. It was only slightlymitigated by the fact he was now wearing a giant cat onesie.

Neil looked down at his clothes.He looked across to the pile of Legos. He looked up at the rest of the Foxes,huddled in the kitchen.

“What the fuck?” he demanded.

Matt’s face melted into a grininstantly. “Oh man,” he said, already pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Youare never going to believe this one.”

#anon #prompts #aftg #tfc #the foxes #deaged characters #my writing #fic #sorry this took a million years #i am tired #but still alive

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patronusofthepugs · 6 years ago

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Dark Prophecy Boys

Alright another crossover pair that literally no asked for except me but just imagine how well Sal Fisher from Sally Face and Kenny from SP would get along.

Kenny moves to Nockfell when he is fourteen and at first he’s pissed as hell. His older brother got sick of their parent’s shit and took off in his beater car with Kenny and Karen. It not that Kenny just wants to stay with his friends but he is genuinely terrified of how his curse would be affected if he doesn’t live in South Park. Perhaps the next time he dies, it’ll be for good. But when he looks down at Karen’s hopeful eyes, he sighs and swallows the fear. After all they are moving into a place called Addison Apartments, it’s such a bland name for what Kenny is sure to be a bland place filled with knitting old ladies and crotchety old men. What’s the worst that can happen?

On their first day of moving into 404, somebody gets murdered down the hall and Kenny hears a knock at their door.

Him and Sal become instant friends, it hard not to like the little blue dude. He’s genuinely nice and says the funniest shit with the straightest face. It becomes a game between them on who can say the most outrageous stuff without smiling or laughing. Sal has his prosthetic face which gives him an advantage but Kenny has years of practice of saying stupid shit on a daily basis so he would say that they are evenly matched. Once Kenny meets Larry, the three boys are solidified into the ultimate trio with artsy, metal head Larry, tiny, polite, blue gremlin Sal, and lanky, sardonic Kenny.

Kenny was usually more of a pop music type of guy but overtime he grows to love metal and can be found head banging with the best of them. He spends most of his time in the basement with Larry and Sal either playing video games or rocking out on the drums for their totally sick rock band, The Face Eaters. Kenny and Larry like to gang up on Sal with the cheesiest puns that they can think of. Their jokes and pranks usually involve lots of props and one liners so corny, Sal will literally hurl his fake eye at Larry and Kenny’s dumb laughing faces as punishment for their terrible dad humor.

Kenny meets Todd and Ash, while he likes them well enough for Todd reminds him a bit like Kyle and Ash is pretty cool, Larry and Sal are still his main dudes. Kenny has always felt detached from the other kids in South Park, his many deaths always playing in his mind on a constant loop. it hurt too much to let his guard down especially when he knew that at the end of the day, he was going to end up dead. But living in Nockfell, it was like time has moved forward again and Kenny is able to go to bed alive every day. It’s exhilarating and terrifying for once he’s a normal kid with normal friends. He feels a strong connection to Sal, there’s some strange electricity buzzing in his bones that urges him to get closer to the porcelain masked boy. Sal would often radio Kenny every time he has a nightmare and the two boys would either go hang with Larry or sneak onto the fire escape to talk and look at the stars.

Sal is a beautiful, sad mystery to Kenny. One minute, he’s laughing and teasing Larry and then the next, his eyes would go so dark and sad, and Kenny feels as if he’s staring into the eyes of an ancient grief that’s barely holding on. It’s a feeling that he knows all too well and it makes him to want to get even closer to him because he can’t stand seeing that expression on anyone’s face, especially Sal’s.

Once the boys start the ghost hunting business, Kenny feels the slight premonition of the darkness that haunts the building. While Kenny’s dying days seem to be over, he’s forever connected to the other side. He can see hazy outlines of the ghosts trapped in the building. Whenever he walks over a certain spot, his mouth is flooded with the coppery taste of blood and his body aches as if he’s been stabbed. Miss Rosenberg’s flat eyes gazes at him as if he’s simply a ghost himself, and while she mutters cryptic stuff about the ancient ones under her breath, Kenny is too scared to go near her for very long. She may have answers to his questions but he isn’t sure if he’s ready to hear the exact truth.

After the Bologna incident, things change within the group. There’s an overwhelming dread and purpose to shoulder the burden of stopping the terrible evil that sleeps under their feet. Kenny grows closer to Sal as the two boys struggle with their roles of being puppets for the eldritch horrors that are guiding them to their dark destinies.

Kenny saves up to move Karen out of the cursed apartment building. The kids grow older and at Henry and Lisa’s wedding, Kenny is so happy and tipsy that he spontaneously kisses Sal during their first slow dance. Panic washes away the happiness but as Kenny sputters out apologies, Sal only laughs and lifts up his mask briefly to kiss Kenny back. And that’s it, Kenny’s a goner for this blue boy who can make him laugh so hard that it hurts to breath, for the one who hushes Kenny’s fears of being forgotten and the one who is so kind and good and so god damn beautiful that Kenny feels like crying and laughing at the same time. Not much changes in their relationship besides more hand holding, sly grins and cutesy nick names, and double dates with Todd and Neil.

Kenny is so happy he feels as if he could float to the moon. They are freshly graduated and he is moving in with Sal. Karen and Kevin are set up in another part of town, away from the Addison Apartments. Larry is moving in with them as well and Ash is coming back to town. Kenny is sure that this is how his life will be from now on, filled with friends, family, metal music and the love of his life.

But he has forgotten what the embrace of Death has felt like and Death is a possessive, jealous being. Kenny has forgotten that he doesn’t get a happy ending, none of them do. Kenny’s life is shattered with one phone call from Sal and as he races to the apartments, he can feel Death nipping at his heels. He knows that he will die tonight. For the first time in many years, Kenny McCormick will die but the question remains. Will he stay dead?

Older Kenny Fan Art Credit to: https://www.deviantart.com/tamaytka/art/Oh-my-god-they-killed-kenny-689294649

Young Kenny Fan Art Credit to: http://ayachiichan.tumblr.com/post/157111681063/pen-pressure-sucks-but-i-still-tried-to-doodle

Young Sal- I can’t find the original artist for this. If someone has any idea please let me know so I can credit them please

Older Sal Art Credit to: https://aminoapps.com/c/sface/page/item/sal-fisher/qkex_N5Bs3IB3bXx51Zrp6xB8jQlNG2weqm

#sally face #south park #kenny mccormick #sal fisher #south park crossover #au #crossover pairing that no one asked for #im rare pair garbage #will probably turn into a fic

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wonderlustlucas · 7 years ago

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eggs - lee taeyong

⇢ prompt Breakfast does not go to the stomach, it goes to the heart. ⇢ pairing taeyong x female reader ⇢ word count 3.1k ⇢ genre fluff ⇢ warnings none unless fluff gives u whiplash :D ⇢ summary “Taeyong fluff. basically like they aren’t a couple yet but they know they both like each other so they’re all cutesy and shit :) plot doesn’t really matter tbh as long as it’s some cute ass fluff”—request ⇢ a/n take this fluffy shit and shove it up ur ass for optimum benefit

“Noona, will you please make us breakfast?” You are one hundred percent going to kill him.

“Ten, call me that again and the only thing I will cook is your arms and legs. I just bought cereal and milk, so leave me alone,” you groan like a branch under the weight of snow, rolling away from the brightness of the sun filtering through the window and swinging a leg out from beneath the covers to dangle off the bed. “No, you finished the cereal Thursday and never told me to pick up more, plus there’s no milk left,” Ten retorts, voice muffled behind the white door and at the sound of his—your—friends laughing, you feel like screaming. “Then go out and buy some more!”

“___, there’s like fifty eggs in the fridge, plus it’s past twelve and loverboy is starving, don’t you want to cook for T—“

“Okay, shut up!” You shout, accepting defeat rather than embarrassment and whipping the blankets away with an annoyed sigh. Picking a crumpled tee shirt from the floor, you pull it over your head with a certain irritation and make way for the door, swinging it open and glaring coldly at the grinning boy despite the heat growing on your cheeks like sunburn. “I hope you rot in Hell,” you hiss, jabbing a finger into his chest and stomping past him.

In a weak attempt to move past your guests as quietly as possible, you direct your attention to the floor and scurry through the living room quiet as a mouse, embarrassingly aware of loverboy’s—as Ten called him—presence. “Morning, ___.”

Caught. “Good morning,” you sigh, finally averting your gaze to look at the trio and offering a feeble wave. Maybe if you just pretend that he isn’t here, you can survive the day. However, as soon as your eyes land on Lee Taeyong and all his glory, hot rosiness is already burning its way up your neck quicker than before and settling on the apples of your cheeks. Curse you, you want to say, mouth sour and stare fixated on the brunette for a heartbeat too long until he smiles and you embarrassingly hurry on to the kitchen.

If it’s not for the incessant growling of your stomach, you truly contemplate opening the refrigerator door just to slam it back on your head; however, even though you would never admit it, cooking breakfast for Taeyong remains to be your first and foremost priority on this lovely afternoon. And so, no matter how much you don’t want to, you smack a cast-iron pan loudly on the stove and twist on the gas, pausing to count with your fingers how many eggs you’ll need before eventually just grabbing the whole carton.

You see, developing a crush on one of Ten’s friends was never part of the plan. To be entirely honest, you had laid in bed the night Ten first moved in, tucked delightfully in your duvets wondering how in the name of God you were going to survive just a week without falling for him. However, as time went on, Ten’s fiery attitude and the fact that it seemed as if his friend Johnny was the one who in fact moved in based on the amount of time he spent in your shared apartment made it quite painless to get over the brief obsession in your newest flatmate.

And while Ten does have a mentality spicier than sriracha, you could not find it in yourself to complain when he brought not one but three friends over two months into moving in. By that time, you were fairly close to Johnny, considering he was knocking on the door almost every day (at this point, you had already settled on the idea that the two were one hundred and fifty percent dating, although you would never ask), but had zero ideas that Ten even had other friends, let alone met them.

And to be quite frank, you did not expect another two attractive men to enter your life. Jung Jaehyun, quite possibly the most angelic human you have ever met and Lee Taeyong, the greatest threat to your existence.

Perhaps you would not have fallen so quickly if it was not for the fact Ten was adamant on having the three over every fucking day. The first time you met was a terrifying case of embarrassment; you had been sleeping in when you woke to quite possibly the loudest noise to ever enter your eardrums. And so, with speed faster than light, you fled from bed with nothing but measly undergarments to see what sort of Satanic ritual Ten was pulling, only to find two strangers grimacing at an enormous box now flat on the floor.

It was painfully awkward, from the moment they noticed your ghastly presence in the doorway, to the realization they just dropped the new television Ten just bought, and finally to the fact you were practically naked in front of them. Without even a glance to their faces and with a noise akin to a frightened mouse caught in a trap you spun back behind the door, slammed it closed, and dove back into bed, shivering under the covers and planning your plan of survival that included never leaving the one hundred and twenty-seven square feet of your bedroom.

However, five hours later your stomach had a mind of its own.

6:07 PM - To Ten: i will literally do absolutely anything u want ever in ur life if u bring me cereal

6:07 PM - From Ten: No shot

6:07 PM - To Ten: oh my god ten please

6:08 PM - From Ten: I think my friends need an apology for seeing ur titties this morning🤧

6:08 PM - To Ten: please dont do this to me im so hungry i will literally do anything

6:08 PM - From Ten: Bj?

6:08 PM - To Ten: yes an infinite everyday

6:08 PM - From Ten: hmmmm

6:09 PM - From Ten: nah

6:09 PM - From Ten: come get food urself

With an infuriated, muffled scream into the downy pillow, you hurl your phone to the mattress before leaning up and mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of teasing from your sinister flatmate. Sighing obnoxiously as you exit your bedroom for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, absolutely nothing in the entire fucking universe could have prepared you enough for the unquestionably perfectly crafted specimen of Lee Taeyong.

Upon first glance, you barely noticed his figure hidden in the corner of the room, simply a monochrome silhouette concealed in the darkness. It was not until the hues flashing from the television lit up the dark space with brightly colored shades from a commercial did he come into view, seated on the farthest side of the sofa. He was like a single brilliant star on a sky of perfect midnight velvet, a star whose gravity stole the air from your lungs and left you breathless in the doorway upon first glance.

He was by far the most alluring human you have ever seen.

“Hey ___!” Ten suddenly shouted, cutting your train—or lack thereof—of thought into shreds and replacing it with your previous hatred. “Die,” was all you said, earning a chuckle from someone, although you could not seem to care to find out who and instead continued for the kitchen.

“How’s your day been?” He continued, yelling from the other room and you contemplated whacking the side of his head with a cast-iron pan. “Don’t talk to me,” you shouted back while rummaging through the refrigerator, only to pull out a container of half empty white rice left over two days prior and a gallon of Breyers Extra Creamy Vanilla from the freezer.

“Are you grumpy because of what happened this morning?” He singsongs, followed by just leave her alone from an unknown voice as you grab two spoons and slam the drawer close. He was truly pushing your buttons. Ice cream, rice, and spoons in hand you made way for the living room, paused midway, and mercilessly pegged one of the metal spoons at Ten.

It unexpectedly hit him square in the forehead, creating a chorus of oohs from the others and you beamed. “Don’t forget who owns this apartment, Chittaphon,” you sneered, gracing his friends with a beaming smile before spinning on your heels and marching back into your bedroom.

Needless to say, Ten found it in himself to never tread that deep into your patience again and even apologized the next morning. However, the image stuck in your brain of whoever sat in the corner of the living room could not go without questioning.

“Hey, who was over last night, by the way?” You asked as Ten took a seat on the couch beside you, flicking between different television channels. “Taeyong and Jaehyun.”

“Which one had the pink hair?”

Ten huffed, throwing in the towel when it came to choosing an adequate channel, “Taeyong, why?”

You shrugged, “Nothing.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m not dumb, c’mon. You think he’s cute?” More than cute.

“I only saw him for like, a millisecond,” you sniffed, waving him off and returning to your assignment. “Good news. They’re coming over again tonight!”

You groaned, throwing your head back onto the plush cushion and kneading your eyes with your knuckles. “I didn’t pick up enough groceries to feed a whole soccer team,” you sighed, lolling your head over to blink at him. “We have eggs?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Tae will help you.”

And only after a proper introduction when Johnny, Jaehyun, and Taeyong arrived an hour later, you found yourself in the talons of a trap designed to drag you down into the depths of drool-worthy dreams and endless nights of “being in your bag.”

When it came time to cook a meal for the new clan you found ravaging your apartment, it took no less than half a minute for the cotton candy haired art-major (something you found out about him during some unacceptably adorable small talk) to jump up from his spot on the loveseat to aid you in any way possible.

“You like cooking?” He asked as you passed him another egg to be whisked, and you laughed heartily. “No, I just have to so I don’t blow all my money on takeout,” you explained, shrugged, and then followed with, “well, I don’t know. If I had time to cook out of enjoyment rather than survival, I would probably like it.”

“You should, it can be really relaxing,” he said, voice luxurious velvet as he poured the whisked eggs into the hot pan. “I don’t really know any recipes,” you shrugged, watching with quiet admiration as he went through what minimal spices you had while simultaneously folding the eggs into what would eventually be an omelet.

“Oh! I’ll have to show some you one day, then,” Taeyong grinned, and no matter how hard you tried you could not fight the rosy blush warming your features.

It was at this moment you realized you were royally fucked. There was absolutely no way of getting out of this one, you told yourself, and it was a constant reminder nearly every day when him, Johnny, and Jaehyun made their entrance. It was especially obvious on days he came over after class, the top few buttons of his shirt undone and revealing an inch too much skin that made your insides crawl, or the alone time you shared when he would help you in the kitchen, when one day over the course of three months you realized it had gone from two strangers forced to feed a group of helpless college kids to a pair naturally creating meals together, including a handful too many hip bumps, tickles, and any other type of physical touching to be categorized as just friends.

“No way,” you blew Ten off one morning when he asked if you thought you would ever date Taeyong, “he doesn’t like me like that.”

When all he did was roll his eyes, some part of you truly did drop with disappointment. For if he had said, “You should hear how he talks about you,” or, “You really are a dumb bitch,” then maybe you would have had some hope. But his lack of response confirmed your thoughts: Taeyong was an unattainable love.

Four months later, you and your now crimson haired friend dragged an absolutely wasted beyond repair Ten into his bedroom, flung him onto his mattress, removed his shoes, and patted him a good night.

“Sorry you had to deal with him,” you frowned, making way for the tiny kitchen and offering him a water in which he graciously took. Lord knows, if you had known he was coming, you would have been more prepared. And yet there you were, in nothing but an oversized tee shirt in front of the man who held all the stars in his irises and the very being of you in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Taeyong smiled, clicked his tongue after taking a sip of water, “either way, I got to see my gi—you.”

Realizing his miniscule slip-up, Taeyong’s eyes grew the size of saucers, as did yours. My girl? Was that what he was going to say? You gulped, windpipe suddenly dryer than any desert on Earth, heart bumping frantically in your chest because holy shit, were you to blow it off or act on it?

Taeyong cleared his throat, and you did the same, an awkward tension suddenly filling the room thick like syrup and you were suffocating. “Anyway, I’m gonna head home. G’night, ___,” said Taeyong, offering a weak pat to your cheek. You watched him in silence as he left, and as soon as the door shut behind him the world came crashing down, the walls suddenly seemed to shrink and you hopped off the barstool in order to save yourself and sped to your bedroom in a rush of excitement and undeniable shock.

Only two days later you saw him again, a mini celebration in your apartment for the end of the semester with a bit too much soju involved. You found yourself curled into his side as the antics settled down further into the night, however alcohol still had your nerves on fire and you were hyperaware of Taeyong’s hand on what was exposed of your waist where your shirt had ridden up, long fingers drawing random patterns onto the bare skin and you could not breathe.

“___,” he said, you turned from the loud Raymour & Flanigan commercial blaring from the television to look at him, eyes wide and honest and his heart lurched. He suddenly could not find it in himself anymore to ask if he could stay the night and instead languidly studied your pretty features, face hovering closely above your own so you could feel his warm breath fanning across your cheeks and he did not know what to do.

“Taeyong!”

Ten shouted and the two of you jerked back, the serene moment suddenly popped like a bubble and you wanted to scream at him for ruining the possibilities.

The exchange between Taeyong and Ten turned to nothing but marbles in your ears, the idea of kissing him much too loud and growing from a small mustard seed hidden within your brain to an enormous tree. Except now it was in bold font and flashing every color known to man because there was no way he was actually going to kiss you, right?

Fast forward nearly a month later and here you were, found in yet another treacherous predicament as the man of your dreams sat only feet away. The past twenty-seven days were the worst of your life, you tell yourself; for every time you close your eyes, all you can picture is all the diminutive moments shared with Taeyong since your almost-kiss, every insignificant touch, every drawn-out ogling, every unnecessary compliment that only increasing became worse because Ten told him that you liked him. And instead of bringing it up, too fearful to do so even though you are convinced he must like you back, you push it away, avoiding any possible interaction that will lead to your potential collapse.

And so, when a, “Hey, do you want any help?” erupts from just around the wall, you nearly drop an egg when every muscle in your body freezes because yes he’s here but no get away. “Um,” you sniff, glancing down at the dozen eggs and then back to the boy sporting hair the shade of oozy caramel, “sure.”

You go on in silence, continuously passing Taeyong an egg to be cracked and then throwing out the shells, and you are telling yourself oh, this isn’t too bad until he decides to break the relative silence, “I like you.” You blink, squint at the wall before moving around him to wash yoke from your hands, hearing the words from those damn kissable lips makes your legs burn and heart thump at a rate that definitely is not healthy. “I know,” you finally answer, voice clogged in the back of your throat so you continue, “I like you too.”

“I know,” says Taeyong once you look up at him and he bestows upon you a toothy grin.

“I’m glad that’s settled, then,” you laugh breathlessly, leaning into his side as he scrambles the eggs, cheek pressed against his bicep, “you’re bulking up, I like it.” Taeyong drops his head to look down and you glance up with a smile that cannot seem to leave your face. “Jaehyun said the same thing,” he grins, pulling his arm away so that you must pull away but, just as your lips start to pout, he pulls your body close and wraps his arms around your waist.

In a sudden surge of courage, you raise your hand to trail a finger down the razor-sharp edge of his jawline, something you have dreamed of doing for months and now that you are finally able to, you do not know whether you will ever be able to stop. “Wow,” you almost say, breathlessly infatuated by his presence, however, the sudden pressure of his lips upon yours steals your breath furthermore and suddenly everything is all him and you pull yourself closer, air hitching in your lungs, nerves fizzing with sparks, melding your mouth against his own as the anticipation of kissing him over the past months has reached its boiling point.

“Does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” Taeyong asks once you have pulled away, lips swollen red. “That’s the general plan, yes,” you laugh softly, planting a milder peck on the side of his mouth.

“Does anyone smell burning eggs?”

691 notes · View notes

zecretsanta · 6 years ago

Text

Fic: Out Under the Neon

To: @kiichu

From: @pomegranate-belle

Merry Christmas, Emi! Hopefully someday there’ll be more of this AU, but I figured I could at least get the good cutesy stuff to you! (Obviously, the whole AU has to end happily, so rest safe knowing it all works out!)

AO3 link

It’s not raining anymore, not really. More of a drizzle. But the streets are wet, and green and pink light glows back out of black puddles, reflecting the neon off the buildings. Ambidex Street is empty as Dio walks down it. It usually is, this time of night, besides the Myrmidon patrols. And the stinging, ice-cold rain from ten minutes ago wasn’t much incentive for trespassers to try and sneak onto the restricted streets near the Cradle Pharmaceutical compound.

There are more every week, though. Some sick. Most civilians. All desperate.

They can’t afford treatment, can’t afford the prices Cradle wants them to pay for its genetic manipulation codes. ‘Cybertreatment’, the Cradle Pharma adverts call it. The Myrmidons call it ‘hacking’, to a man, and Dio might have broken the mold a little but in this he’s no exception.

Like all the company’s clones, he gets free access to hacking, if he’s ever injured or ill. But he also doesn’t get paid for his work and has to share a room with two other clones on the compound grounds. All the human workers can opt out of the dorms, rent apartments in the neighborhood, get paid at least decent money – but in exchange, they have to pay for hacking same as everyone else. Six of one, half-dozen of the other, Dio figures.

There are a lot of people in the city that still rely on pills, shots, cough syrup, all that shit. The middle ground between the dickwads rich enough to afford hacking and the impoverished idiots dumb enough to try and steal it. They get along with their lot in life same as Dio does – just doing what they have to.

And then, of course, there’s Crash Keys. Dio’s never seen them himself, and like fuck he wants to – their handiwork has left nine clones in the compound’s hospital wing. He knows they’re the real reason Hongou and the other Cradle Pharma bigwigs make the Myrmidons patrol the perimeter streets so much. Some jumped-up kid trying to steal the code to fix his sister’s cancer is inconsequential compared to an organized force trying to leak all the treatment codes to the public like they’re all in some fucking Robin Hood flick.

Not that Dio isn’t aware that the crazy fuckers are probably in the right. Cradle Pharma is shit awful. But what’s he supposed to do about it? Things are how they are.

Dio tilts his head up, lets a few stray raindrops splatter across his face and run cold tracks down his neck. Then he shakes his head, stuffs his hands in his pockets, and keeps walking – kicking through oily puddles as neon signs flicker and fizzle overhead. It’s going to be a long night.

The very next morning Dio’s reassigned, and he’s indifferent. Work is work, and there’s no more or less prestige in any job given to a Left clone, though he might secretly wish there was.

He’s been assigned to watch the GAULEM – Cradle Pharmaceutical’s compendium of medical knowledge, the thing keeping them exclusive and profitable. You’d think that would be a step up, but he’s heard from a few other clones who’ve had the position and they told him it’s a boring job. Stuck in one suite of rooms at the center of the Cradle Pharma compound, day in and day out. At least when he had patrol duty, Dio could stretch his legs across a borough of the city.

But he’s heard the rooms are nice, at least. Posh. So there’s a silver lining or something to being assigned to a job where he has to sit around and watch a fucking computer day in and day out.

They want Dio to start right away, apparently, because he’s herded off after breakfast by his direct superior, Marcus Call. They wind their way through a maze of corridors Dio’s never had any reason to bother with and stop in front of a pair of fancy-looking double doors. Marcus pulls a key off the ring on his belt, unlocks the doors, and flings them open.

The rooms really are nice, Dio thinks when he sees them. Not to say that the rest of the Cradle Pharma compound is poor quality or cheaply made, but it’s definitely more functional than fashionable. This place, on the other hand? It’s fucking plush. Fancy armchairs, actual wallpaper and carpet instead of industrial steel, paintings hanging on the wall like it’s some fucking five-star hotel suite. It’s the sort of place the CEO would stay, but he’s not here – would almost never be caught dead in the compound when he can give his orders from on high in his fucking penthouse uptown. No, the only people in the GAULEM suite are Dio, his superior, and…

A woman in a purple dress, staring at one of the paintings with her hands folded primly in front of her.

She’s beautiful. Big blue eyes in a freckled face, flame-orange hair braided up precariously. Dio’s never seen anything like her. Some of the women working at Cradle Pharma are beautiful, but they all dress stern and sharp and smile like they want to bite off your fucking head. This woman has none of that aura – she’s wispy and soft.

“This is the GAULEM,” Marcus tells Dio matter-of-factly. “GTF-DM-L-016.”

“… What.”

The GAULEM was supposed to be a machine. A computer. Just some console he had to guard and keep from overheating. Not a— a woman.

“It and the other GAULEMs in storage are the last of Dr. Klim’s creations,” explains Marcus. “They’re androids capable of storing every cybertreatment code, encrypting and distributing them securely for the company’s use, diagnosing patients, and utilizing medical knowledge. Keeps this whole place running.”

“She’s… A robot,” Dio settles on saying at last.

“It can be something of a shock for new guards,” allows Marcus, and the ugly amusement on his face tells Dio that he takes great pleasure in throwing his subordinates off-guard with this reveal. “Yes, the GAULEM is a humanoid robot with a sophisticated artificial intelligence program. You will live here in the suite and guard it, oversee routine maintenance, and other miscellaneous duties. Can you handle that, Dio?”

As if there was any question of it. Dio scoffs.

“’Course I can. Who do you think you’re dealing with here?”

“Good man,” Marcus replies. “I’ll leave you to it, then. First maintenance check is in three days, so just get settled in for now. Don’t fuck anything up in the meantime.”

Then, with a jaunty wave, he steps out of the suite and Dio is left alone with the woman—robot. GAULEM. Whatever. He peers at her out of the corner of his eye, wary, but she doesn’t even turn her head. Just keeps staring at the painting in front of her like he’s not even there.

‘Get settled in’ was a hell of a way to phrase it, Dio considers on the second day of his new assignment, because the GAULEM suite is more unsettling than anywhere else he’s ever been. And it’s not the place itself, it’s the GAULEM. She wanders the rooms of her suite like a ghost – pale, silent, and tragic. Makes Dio feel like the victim of a haunting or some shit. Just spends all her time staring at the paintings or looking up at the sunshine drifting in from the skylight. Everything she does is soundless and it creeps Dio the hell out.

“… Hey,” he says at last around midday, the first word he’s ever spoken to her.

She turns to look at him. Her blue gaze isn’t as listless as her movements would suggest, but she’s obviously not emotionally engaged. If she even can be emotionally engaged, he’s not sure. Fuck if he knows what a GAULEM is capable of.

“Y-yes?” she asks. “Did… Did you need something?”

The stutter is kind of a surprise, but Dio shrugs it off. He’s about to open his mouth and address her by her ID number, but just thinking about it makes his stomach curdle a little. He doesn’t really like the idea of calling something that looks like a person – even if she’s just a robot – by an ID number. Hasn’t liked being called by an ID number himself for so long that denying her a name itches under his skin. To the other Myrmidons and Marcus, he gets to be Dio. They don’t care about idiosyncrasies as long as the job gets done. But he remembers being Clone 410 clearly enough that it still burns.

“D’you have a name?” he asks at last. “Like an actual name?”

The GAULEM comes alive a little at the question, brightens.

“Luna,” she says in a quiet, wistful voice. “The doctor called me Luna.”

She’s one of Klim’s, so there’s pretty much no other doctor she can mean. Dio nods.

“Right. Luna, then. I, uh… I’m Dio.”

For the first time, Luna smiles. It’s small, weak – but it transforms her. Sure, she was pretty before, but… Something about the smile makes everything about her more vibrant. Like going from black and white to color or something.

“I-it… It’s nice to meet you, Dio.”

“Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat, stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Right. You too.”

Still with that tiny smile, Luna returns to gazing at the paintings on the walls.

After that, she’s more interested. Attentive. Something. Watches Dio cobble together meals in the suite’s kitchen, asks him about the card games he plays against himself, stuff like that. Doesn’t really offer any information about herself, but… Well, Dio’s just the guard. Not like she has to share her whole fucking life story with him or anything.

If she even has one. The thought slithers uncomfortably in his stomach. Maybe she’s never left the suite at all. Which is just completely fucked up in about a billion ways, but— she’s a robot. Technically speaking, like him, she belongs to Cradle Pharma. Dio tries to discard that line of thought because imagining having only known, you know, four walls, or whatever, is…

But he just can’t. Stop. Fucking. Thinking. About. It.

Dio avoids it as best he can. But spending so much focus on not thinking about the shitty kind of life Luna might have lived means he’s not spending it on warding off nightmares, which comes back to bite him in the ass almost immediately.

Everything is fire and darkness and falling. Dio knows some of the others have dreams like this too. He’s never asked, never talked about it, but he knows. They all know. All he can do in the moment is struggle against the burning, the rush of air – try not to be consumed. It’ll be over eventually. It has to end sometime.

And it does, even sooner than expected. Dio lurches up in bed with a ragged gasp at the feel of a cold hand clasped around his sweating arm.

“What the fuck?” he demands, wheezing out the words as he drags his other hand through his damp, tangled hair.

“Y-you were having a nightmare,” Luna says quietly, and releases him.

She refuses to meet his eyes, instead staring intently down at her hands as they twist the fabric of her skirt.

“Right,” Dio chokes out, because it’s about the only response he can think to make, nonsensical as it is. “I. Shit. Thanks, I guess.”

He rolls over, a dismissal, an attempt to hide the fucking embarrassment of being woken from a nightmare like a damn kid. But he knows he’s not gonna be able to fall asleep again any time soon. He never is.

And then a tinkling melody starts up, slow and pretty. The notes are too bright to be sad, but there’s something upsetting about it anyway – fuck if Dio knows what. He rolls back over, looks up at Luna in confusion.

“I thought it might help you get to sleep,” she says. “It… It’s quiet. And soothing, I think.”

The sound, the music, is coming from… Her necklace?

“What…?”

“It, it’s a music box. It was a gift, from Dr. Klim,” Luna explains, cradling the pendant in her palms like it’s some kind of delicate animal.

She always talks about the doctor that way, reverently. Maybe it makes sense – he created her, after all. But… He left. He left her, left her alone in this prison. No matter how gilded the bars, a cage is still a cage. Dio knows that.

“Thanks,” he says to her again, softer this time. “That’s… Thank you.”

“Y-yeah. Of course. Anytime.”

Luna sits lightly on the side of the bed, pendant still cupped in her hands. Dio falls asleep with her watching over him – and the nightmare does not return.

Dio’s discomfort returns in the morning, the shame and humiliation. But Luna doesn’t talk about it. She offers to help him make breakfast for himself instead. Smiles, gently. She’s soft, he thinks again. It stirs a bizarre protective instinct in him, the desire to see her safe and happy.

“D-Dio…?”

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Lost in thought.”

“That… That’s ok,” replies Luna as she passes him the salt. “S-sometimes I get lost in thought too.”

He wants to know what about, but doesn’t ask. They’re… It’s not like they’re friends or anything, it’s pretty fucking clear that Cradle just sees Luna as a tool and even if the thought squirms in his gut like an eel he’s not deluded enough to think he’s not part of the fucking machinery that keeps her trapped here.

So he doesn’t ask. Just changes the subject. Asks her how many guards she’s had, anything to return to a surface-level subject.

“S-six, I think,” she tells him. “A-and you.”

“Mm.”

He spends the day on pins and needles, hating it, and has another nightmare. Luna wakes him from it, again, and plays her little music box. After three nights of that routine, she offers to lend it to him at night so he can listen to the melody as he falls asleep.

The nightmares don’t come back after that.

“You like those a lot, huh?” asks Dio a few weeks later, following Luna’s gaze to one of the paintings on the wall.

Luna shrugs her shoulders.

“They’re mine,” she says, utterly without defensiveness or ownership. “I painted them.”

“You. You painted these?”

Luna nods. Suddenly, the paintings are more than just fancy set dressing to match the rest of the GAULEM suite’s opulence. They’re— art. Luna’s art. But the thing is, Dio’s never seen so much as a fucking paintbrush while staying in the suite.

“I-I haven’t painted in a while,” Luna explains, like she’s reading his fucking mind. “It’s. Um. I don’t really h-have, the, um, supplies. Dr. Klim would get them for me, b-but…”

But he’s gone. Dio goes a little cold and frowns, rubbing his arms. So. Only a couple questions and he knows a hell of a lot more than he’d like to. She hasn’t had anything like a life since the doc jumped ship. Used to have hobbies, someone to care about her, give her gifts… And now Luna’s just treated like what Dio thought the GAULEM would be – a glorified fucking computer. She could be so much more, deserves to be more.

And, well, he’s about the only one who can do a damn thing about it.

Dio scratches the back of his neck, can’t make himself meet Luna’s eyes.

“I could probably work something out,” he says gruffly. “Get you some art supplies and shit.”

“Y-you don’t need to do that,” insists Luna. “I’m fine. R-really!”

She fidgets a little with the fabric of her skirt like she always does and shakes her head. And, sure, she’s not gonna croak or anything without art supplies – she’s survived this long, after all. But so what? Surviving and living aren’t the same. He’s seen what surviving looks like and it’s fucking pathetic. It’s good enough for him. He’s fine with it for himself, doesn’t have any aspirations to reach for. But Luna? There are things she wants.

Things he can help her get back. And Dio’s stubborn as hell, so he’s going to do it.

“You want to paint again,” he says. “Don’t you?”

And it takes a while for her to give him a straight answer, but he already knew what it would be. Yeah, Luna wants to paint again. So. That’s that.

The only free time Dio has – or, well, to be accurate the only time he’s allowed to leave the GAULEM suite, because to be honest the entire fucking assignment has effectively felt like ‘free time’ – is during the weekly maintenance checkup. The whole fucking GAULEM maintenance team troops into the suite in their lab coats to, as far as Dio can tell, poke and prod at Luna and stare intently at tablet screens. Luna doesn’t seem to mind, although she’s stoic as shit when she wants to be so who even knows. But it’s uncomfortable to watch, and this week he actually has something to do with his ‘break’, so he slips out of the suite.

None of the Left clones have money because they don’t get paid. Duh. But it doesn’t mean they don’t have a thriving bartering economy. Just gotta know the right person and you can get pretty much anything. A lot of the scientists are willing to fork shit over for a favor, and most of the Myrmidons on patrol have at least one person on the outside supplying them with contraband. Lots of it is junk food or jewelry. Extra blankets. For art supplies, Dio’s gonna have to go pretty damn far afield.

Which means going to Beta. Ugh.

But at least in that regard, Dio’s got things well in hand. He might not like Beta, but he knows the guy’s tastes. He’s a total diva who, despite having perfect eyesight like every other Left clone, is obsessed with eyeglasses. Lucky for him, Dio happens to have a pair set aside – just in case, you know. Dio thinks ahead like that.

When he knocks on the dorm room door, Beta opens it right away. He’s wearing an ugly-ass tracksuit deal and he’s got a pair of oval frames perched on his nose.

“Oh. Dio,” he says, in that fuck-off polite way people have when they aren’t happy to see you. “How… Unexpected.”

He’s really not here for niceties and dancing around shit.

“Yeah, yeah. Look, I have some glasses, you gonna deal or not?”

The door opens wider and Beta steps aside with a little bow. Prick.

“What is it you’re looking for?” he asks, gesturing to his fucking garbage dump of a room.

It’s like a dragon hoard, just a bunch of shit all piled up everywhere. Gotta suck for the poor bastards who have to room with him.

“Art supplies,” Dio says, studying it all. “Paint, canvas, brushes. Shit like that.”

“Hm. Well, I might be able to find what you’re looking for, but for only one pair of glasses—”

But Dio knows what the fuck he’s about. He tugs the glasses case out of his coat pocket and flips it open. High-quality, name-brand rectangle lenses. Basically the holy grail for Beta. Dio’d had to trade a lot of shit to get them, but it had been worth it to know he’d have an ace in the hole with Beta whenever he ended up needing it.

Never thought he’d be using it to get a gift for someone else, though.

Not that he… He’s not upset about it. Not when he thinks about what Luna’s done for him. Not when he imagines what her expression will look like when she gets some new art supplies to work with.

“Oh,” Beta says, stunned, pulling Dio out of his thoughts.

He smirks, waggling the open case and watching Beta’s eyes follow the glasses intently.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought. You want these? Hand over all the painting supplies you’ve got.”

And, well. Not to brag, but Dio walks out of that room with his arms full of art shit. So. Mission success.

Even better than the thrill of victory, though, is watching Luna’s blue eyes go wide and her face pale with ABT fluid when she finally catches sight of him past the maintenance crew filing out the door. Her expression, all startled and awed and pleased, is about the best thing he’s ever seen in his life.

“Is… Is all of that f-for me?” she asks, and lifts a hand but doesn’t reach for the stuff piled in his arms.

“Yeah,” Dio replies.

He sets it all down on the coffee table – tiny canvases, a whole damn forest of different size brushes, and a rainbow of paint colors. Bolstered by his yes, Luna makes her way over to the table to start picking through the haul. She starts grouping paints by some pattern Dio can’t pick out. He leaves her to it – he’s tired as hell from trekking all the way across the compound and he wants a nap.

The soft clatter of art supplies on the wood of the table lulls him to sleep.

Luna returns to painting with gusto. She spends almost all her free time at it, slow and careful. When she’s concentrating, she sticks out her tongue and it’s cute in a way that makes Dio’s heart squeeze a little bit. He tries not to think about shit like that, though. Keep a lid on things like a fucking professional.

Doesn’t mean he’s gonna stop interacting with Luna, though. Fuck that.

“You paint flowers a lot,” he notes as casually as he can, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

Luna pauses, glances back at him with a smile that hits his heart like a bolt of lightning.

“Yes, I… I really like flowers. Um. A-any plant, really. Growing things. They’re very soothing.”

Only when she turns back to her painting does Dio lift a hand to rub at his chest. The hell is wrong with him, seriously?

Like every-fucking-thing else Luna says, her words stick with him. Dio finds himself thinking about them when he should be doing other things. He burns about five different breakfasts that way before he gives up and decides, like the art supplies, he’s gotta do something about it.

But he’s not going back to Beta. No way in hell.

Not that his other choice is much better.

Hazuki Kashiwabara is a programmer. She’s awful and Dio hates her. The feeling is mutual. Unfortunately, they’ve kind of become friends anyway, out of necessity. There’s no one in the compound better to talk shit about everyone else with. He’s become even more reluctantly fond of her because they both fucking hate the maintenance team.

Dio catches up to Hazuki in a hallway off the main labs, steels himself, and demands a favor.

“Yeah?” she asks, laughs at him a little. “And what the hell do you want from me, hotshot?”

“A—a flower,” he stammers angrily. “A potted plant, I don’t know. Something alive. Growing.”

“Hm…”

Hazuki leans forward, studying him a little. Even though his first instinct is to back up, to get more space between them, Dio plants his feet and resists the urge.

“What,” he demands sharply.

Hazuki lifts her shoulder sin a lazy, elegant shrug.

“I’m sure I can find something like that,” she says.

And that’s all. Tension and irritation itch under Dio’s skin – there’s more she isn’t saying, and he wants her to spit it the fuck out already and get it over with. But she doesn’t. Just smiles mysteriously and saunters off down the hall. Ugh. Bitch.

Still, he gets a text that she’s got something for him by the next maintenance checkup. She moves fast, he’ll give her that much. They meet up in the same hallway as before.

“It’s an Echeveria laui,” Hazuki tells him. “A succulent. They’re hardy, difficult to kill. Should be easy to take care of as long as you can get it some sunlight.”

She hands him the little potted plant – its leaves are kind of a dusty purple color, and it’s shaped a little like a rose. Pretty. It reminds him of Luna, and he’s glad about that but also pretty pissed at Hazuki for having him all figured out.

“Thanks,” he tells her, because he’s not a complete fucking philistine.

“And don’t water the plant,” Hazuki adds over her shoulder, already walking off. “Water the soil. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.”

If he cradles the plant a little closer to his chest than he has to, well, fuck it, no one’s there to see him.

Though Dio’s head swirls with stupid fantasies of presenting the little succulent directly to Luna – like an offering, like a gift – he knows them for the idiocy they are. Nothing ever goes to plan in real life, and he doesn’t like explaining himself. So he sets it on the low coffee table and leaves it there without a word.

That evening, he catches Luna stroking its leaves with a single fingertip, careful and tender.

Maybe he smiles about it, but there’s nobody to catch him at it.

According to Marcus, the maintenance team is recording a higher efficiency in Luna’s transmissions since Dio started guard duty. Dio gets commendations for it, not that they mean anything. When he offers that letting her paint and take care of a plant seems to help, though, the GAULEM suite fills with art supplies and more succulents on fucking command. So at least someone’s getting something out of it.

Still, it’s irritating that they’re all so fucking shocked about it.

Turns out that, just like any human, the sentient robot that’s the cornerstone of the company works better when happy, Dio thinks to himself scathingly. Who’d’ve thought?

The fact that no one before him cared enough to find out – or didn’t even consider Luna capable of happiness in the first place – burns him up. But he’s here now, and unlike the others he’s not a fucking idiot.

Things continue in about the same manner — and Luna smiles more every day. It’s not boring, because he’s not bored. Not in Luna’s company. But it is quiet, and peaceful, and he sort of… Acclimatizes to that.

And then the break-in happens.

There’s hardly a fucking warning at all. No alarms, no crashes, no shattering glass. Just the click of the lock. It’s night. Normally, Dio would be in bed, but it was just his fucking luck he’d woken from a dream earlier and wasn’t keen on going back to bed. Not a nightmare, because he never had nightmares anymore, but…

Dreaming about holding a hand in yours was downright fucking uncomfortable. Left clones just weren’t built for romance, or affection or… Whatever. A dream like that is troubling. And there’s no one he can tell about it. He’s still struggling with the thought, which is probably how the intruders manage to make it all the way into the room before he sees them.

They’re both dressed in black – a man and a woman – and Dio knows what they are immediately. Assassins. None have ever made it this far into the compound, but he’s heard stories. Crash Keys operatives that want to destroy the GAULEM and steal the codes it contains. It had been a danger before, but now that Dio knows what a GAULEM really is, now that he knows Luna, the idea is fucking chilling.

“Hey!” he snaps, losing the element of surprise but disrupting them from their search for Luna.

The girl is closer, so Dio grabs for her first, crushing her wrist in a tight grip to yank her closer. She lashes out with her other hand, but it’s not like Dio’s a fucking amateur, and he catches that one too. That means Dio doesn’t exactly have any hands left to deal with the other assassin – so he kills two birds with one stone and flings the woman into her partner. They knock over an armchair with a crash.

“… Dio…? I-is everything ok?”

Fuck.

They might be a little dazed, but the assassins are between Dio and Luna. He lunges at them, throws a fist. The man shifts to dodge out of the way, but gets clipped on the cheek. Not hard enough to break anything or knock him back on his ass, but probably enough to bruise. Not that it’s much consolation when he gets clubbed in the head with something heavy and sharp – whatever tool they’re planning to use against Luna, probably. The crack of it against his temple stuns him for a moment, but then – even when the pain and the heat and the wetness of blood streaming down the side of his face – his anger, desperation, pushes him forward into a frenzy.

The guy is smallish, but he’s a scrappy fucker and he doesn’t bother trying to dodge again, just ducks in close, takes the hits to his face and chest, and punches Dio right in the throat. The blow is strong, knocks Dio a few steps back into the wall, where he crumples into a heap, wheezing. For fuck’s sake, he growls at himself, but there are black spots flickering across his vision and each breath is a struggle.

“Dio…!”

There’s a loud crackle, and then sudden, chilling silence. The whole world stops, and a roaring fills Dio’s ears. He’s still blinking spots out of his eyes, so he can’t see what happened, but he can guess. Grabbing at the wall for purchase, he stumbles to his feet. Finally, past the blood and the dizziness, he can make out the scene. The two of them are bent over Luna.

Reaching down to grab her, to pick her up.

He should have been able to fight them off, but he wasn’t. Still. There’s one last thing he can do. Because the wall he’d hit is the one with a carefully hidden slide panel in it, one with a big red button underneath.

Dio slams a hand on the alarm button, and sirens begin to wail. Red bulbs flash overhead, casting the whole scene in bloody light.

“Shit!” hisses one of the assassins.

He snatches his partner by the sleeve and darts for the door.

“No!” she protests, dragging her heels. “The GAULEM!”

“Leave it!”

And then they’re gone, out the door. Dio hopes they’ll be caught, but if they made it this far into the compound without detection, they can probably slip back out too even with the alarm. It doesn’t matter. There’s something more important to worry about. Luna, collapsed on the floor, utterly still.

Blood still dripping down his face, Dio stumbles his way over to her, slumps down onto his knees to feel for a pulse. Luna doesn’t have a flesh and blood heart, but she does have a mechanical equivalent – something to pump the ABT fluid through her system. The pulse, usually stable and fixed, is thready and fast under Dio’s fingers.

“Shit!”

She doesn’t stir, even at the expletive. Whatever those Crash Key bastards did to her, it’s knocked her out cold. It’s several minutes’ struggle to get her into his arms – her body is heavy with steel and machinery – but he does it. Gets her laid out on the bed. But after that, he doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know if there’s anything he can do.

The ten minutes until she wakes up are an eternity, but finally Luna opens her eyes. It’s not a relief, though, because she doesn’t look well. Something’s still wrong.

“What… What’d they do to you?” Dio asks, even though he isn’t sure he wants the answer.

“A virus,” she says weakly, pushing a strand of orange hair out of her eyes. “It’s… Powerful. Fast-moving. I-I… I think it’s designed to release the cybertreatment codes, o-onto the internet.”

Dio doesn’t give a shit about the codes. Like she’s a sick kid, he puts his hand to her forehead.

“But what about you? Once the codes are out there, once it’s done, it’ll go away?”

“… No. I don’t think so,” she tells him.

Though her skin tends to run cool, her forehead is hot beneath his hand and pale with ABT fluid. Her mechanical systems are overheating as they try to overpower the virus, to hold it at bay, the way a human’s immune system runs a fever to burn out sickness. He’s never seen Luna so humanly vulnerable, and it’s terrifying.

“You’re dying,” he realizes blankly, and his whole chest goes cold.

Luna smiles.

“I was never really alive, Dio. It’s ok.”

“The hell it is! How— how long do you have?”

Luna closes her eyes, hums a little the way she does when she’s processing something.

“Twenty-three hours, thirty-five minutes, six seconds,” she murmurs.

“Shit.” Dio sits back, takes a shuddering breath and rakes his fingers through his hair. “Shit. Ok. The maintenance team will be here soon. They can fix this. Just… Stay there.”

“Ok, Dio.”

He wants to stay by her side, but like fuck his freaking out is gonna help her any. He moves out to the parlor to wait for the maintenance team and tries to pace his frustration away.

When they arrive, the tightness in his chest eases for about all of the five minutes it takes them to decide on a course of action. A fucking unacceptable course of action – to transfer Luna’s database over to a new GAULEM and let the fucking virus run its course. Let it fucking kill her, like the stupid database is all that’s important about her.

“Why can’t you just fix her?” Dio demands.

Marcus shakes his head with an almost pitying look on his face, and Dio has never wanted to punch him more.

“Why should we bother? I understand that this was your assignment, Dio, but there are other GAULEMs, and they will serve Cradle Pharmaceutical’s needs equally as well as GTF-DM-L-016 has. They’re all the same, these machines.”

They’re not. There’s no way they are, because Luna has feelings and desires and memories that are hers alone. But Dio’s anger is so thick in his throat that it chokes him and all he can do is nod. It prompts Marcus to clap him on the shoulder, and then heads out the door with the rest of the maintenance team. The door closes with a quiet click, but to Dio it might as well have been slammed.

Digging his hands into his hair, he hisses an angry breath out through his teeth.

They’ll all be back in twenty minutes, once the new GAULEM has been removed from the vault and the machines are ready. The seconds itch under Dio’s skin as they pass. Luna, on the other hand, looks as serene as always. She has less than half an hour of existence left and she’s spending it sitting in a chair and waiting patiently to die. Dio’s hands begin to shake and he clenches them into fists.

No. No, fuck that.

Maybe she’s willing to die, or thinks she has to, but Dio knows better. Cradle Pharma is in it for themselves. And normally Dio had been fine with that, with the status quo. But it’s not just about him anymore, it’s about her. And letting Luna die doesn’t benefit anyone except Cradle. So fuck them. He’s doing what’s best for him instead.

“D-Dio…?”

Luna’s reaching out a hand, concerned, but though her fingertips are only a few inches from his arm she doesn’t close the gap between them.

“We’re leaving,” he snaps. “We’re getting you the hell out of here. If they just want to let you die, then fuck them.”

Luna sighs.

“Dio, it— it doesn’t matter. Even if we left, neither of us can stop the virus.”

They can’t. She’s right. But the bones of a plan are starting to coalesce in Dio’s mind and anything is better than just giving up.

“No,” he says, taking her hand in his, “but I know who can.”

#zero escape #virtue's last reward #kiichu #pomegranate-belle #dio/luna #zecret santa 2018 #submission

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mixdoyoung · 7 years ago

Text

☙ ring around the rosie ❧

It takes a little time, but eventually a positive ID comes back for the mysterious figure in the photograph you’d taken. After all, you can only scrawl through databases so fast, and with little to work with, it’s almost a relief for everyone involved to see the scanned driver’s license appear in front of you at the end of it.

Her name is Lee Hayoon. She’s 28 years old and she’s been a member of the Seoul Police Department for 5 years, after graduating from the police academy in February 2013. Tall, reasonably slim, long brown hair— She’s what most SPD officers look like: tired. Her social media accounts are all public, and should you choose to look, you’ll find Instagram photos of lunches with her fellow officers dated back a few weeks before this all began, likely too busy now to take aesthetic photographs of her BBQ before digging in. Clicking through to some of her friends, you discover the same thing — last update being before the first two couples found sent the city into chaos.

Why she had been reading an old newspaper isn’t really explained, however. The case was already open, so perhaps she was simply researching. (It’s not uncommon now to find the media, the public and the SPD all trifling through old files to make a desperate connection — After all, the press pay nicely.) Is there more to it than that, though? Is it really that simple?

“Lee Hayoon? Never heard of her.”

“Obviously. You talk like you know everyone in the SPD but your memory ain’t shit. You even forgot my name onc—”

“Quit being a smartass. I was just talking to myself.“

Doyoung can feel the man on the other side of the line rolling his eyes at him, and he wishes so badly he could reach across radio waves to poke those damned eyes out.

“Yeah, kay. Aannyyyway, emailed you the deets. What shit has she done that’s caught your eye? She seems pretty clean to me as far as I’m concerned, but then again I’m not one who sifts for dirt – you are.”

The buzz of his mobile against his ear alerts him of the arrival of said mail.

“Hmmm… nothing much. But who knows? Everyone has something to hide,” he chuckles mysteriously, absent-mindedly twirling a loose thread dangling from the side of his jeans.

There’s a moment of silence, as though the man on the other end were weighing his words in his head, contemplating whether to speak his mind or not.

“Even if she didn’t, you coul— would make something.”

The voice is quiet, subdued.

“You have such a low opinion of me. I’m wounded.”

“Please,” the scoff is derisive, “I’ve been working with you for awhile now. I know how you work. If things don’t go your way, you find some twisted way to force it your way… remind me again to never piss you off.”

His voice takes on an excessively saccharine tone, “Aww, I’m flattered. Also, you give me too much credit. I can’t do all of that alone you know? I’ve only made it this far because of you.”

“Noooo. No. I know that tone—”

“Which is why I have another favour to ask of you Nightingale ~” he coos, inflecting his voice for an ‘cutesy’ delivery.

The heavy groan from the other end of the line has him chewing up the inside of his cheeks in an attempt to silence the laughter that threatens to spill past his lips.

“OH COME ON!”

“Geez, chill out. I always pay you for your trouble right?”

“But you always have such troublesome requests!”

“Yeah, could you help me retrieve some SPD files on the Valentine’s case?”

“See?! SPD?! Troubleso— wait what? You’re interested in the Valentine’s case too? Why?”

“Who isn’t? It’s the biggest thing in the city and I don’t want to be left out. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it Nightingale. Help me out, won’t you?”

“You can do it yourself can’t you? I know you know how to. You also have contacts in the force don’t you?” He whined.

“First of all, yes I could. But you’re a better and more equipped hacker than I,” Stroking someone’s ego was always a good way to nudge them in the right direction, Doyoung’s learnt. “And people are people and are difficult. It’s faster to just secretly swipe some things from them. Also, you have your contacts too right? I’m sure you and your gang can easily get what we want if you work together.”

“Oh, so this is a ‘we’ thing now?”

“Yes. Thank you for being so understanding.”

“Wait I didn’t agree to—”

“I’ll wire you your compensation tonight okay? Also call me back tomorrow with the deets. Love you!”

He hangs up.

Doyoung wonders if he’s making a bad habit out of that – hanging up prematurely – but if he didn’t, the complaining would never stop. A man after his own heart, Nightingale was.

Looking around, he spots a bus stop a few metres ahead and drops down onto one of the metal benches, hunching over his mobile device as he scrolls through the document Nightingale had sent him on Lee Hayoon.

It’s nice how thorough his contact was in his research, he muses as he scrolls through the woman’s Instagram.

But then again, he reckons that it couldn’t have been that hard. At least, not in this day and age where everyone seems to so easily share everything and anything about themselves on social media. Personal information is so easy to dig up in a world as connected as theirs.

He stops by a 7/11 for an ice-cream sandwich.

“Huh, how convenient. She lives close by.”

He’s in no hurry. So, with some help from Naver Maps, he takes a nice, leisurely half-an-hour stroll to Lee Hayoon’s place, enjoying the sweet treat and cool night air. It’s only 8PM when he arrives at the woman’s apartment, and he wonders if she’d be in.

Probably not.

Slipping on his mask, he steps into the lobby and does a quick one over of the area, looking out for surveillance cameras – none that he’s noticed. But he does reckon there might be some in the elevator, so he decides to take the stairs just in case. He hadn’t recce-d the area like he usually would’ve his places of interests.

Tonight’s visit was a decision made in the spur of the moment.

As he’d expected, Hayoon was indeed, not home. Not that it really mattered since picking locks was a… hobby he’d honed over the past few years.

It isn’t long before he’s settled into the woman’s couch with a photo book off her shelf in hand, a bag of chips by his side as he plans to immerse himself in some black and white aesthetics till his target returned home. At the back of his mind, he wonders how the lady would take his unexpected visit. Like Officer Lee Hyunwoo maybe? Probably not.

Lee Hayoon was a cop, certainly. But she was not the same kind of cop as Lee Hyunwoo as far as her profile ( so generously provided by her own social media accounts ) suggested. Different experiences, different approaches, likely different outlook.

Unless of course, she wasn’t what she appeared to be. That would be exciting.

He is of the belief – innocent until proven guilty. Or at least, innocent of a specific act until proven guilty. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think she’s guilty; Everyone is guilty of something. And whatever she might or might not be guilty of, he could exploit for better or worse. He isn’t asking for much. All he wants are some answers, something fresh to latch onto. And perhaps… a mole. More contacts in the SPD is always welcomed.

It must’ve been a few hours before the front door swings open; He’d lost track of time waiting for her by then.

“Oh, hello Hayoon-ssi,” he greets casually, looking up from his position. “I want something from you, and for your convenience, I’ll make it quick.”

He tosses the book he’d been reading to the side, turning to face the woman in full.

“Let’s be ‘friends’.”

Tonight’s a wonderful night to make a deal with the devil.

#mi:valentine18 #submission #[ lol idk what i wrote ]#[ i just wanted to finish this before the deadline ]#[ i hope it's okay ]#[ now time to sleep ]#[ rip me ]#sp; ring around the rosie

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