#random unforeseeable shit

[smute]

i wonder how much money i've wasted on non-refundable tickets over the course of my life. makes me sick

[waywardxwords]

Chapter 8 - Save Me

Summary: After a random encounter introduces you to Dean Winchester, you can't shake the magnetic pull you feel towards him. For years, you've felt like everything in your life is under control--a promising career, financial stability and no real responsibilities. Dean's a hunter; it's his life and job. But somehow when you meet, your worlds are flipped upside down and you have to decide if it's a chance worth taking.

Chapter Warnings: Slight language; there's a ton of dialogue in this one but I feel like it's necessary to prep for the chapters ahead

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Word Count: ~3k

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If you were being honest with yourself, you didn’t know how you felt about going to Kansas for the unforeseeable future. While it wasn’t like you went into an office everyday and you could really work from anywhere within the United States, you had still built your life in Virginia. You had friends—especially Jen—and it felt weird leaving her here, unable to defend herself. But Dean had assured you she would be taken care of, and you knew that you were unable to defend yourself against these monsters Dean and Sam knew how to fight. 

“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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[multiverse-sya]

Random vivid glimpses of alien architecture number ???:

There are times I sincerely wish I knew another one of my species, because maybe they can tell me what the machinery's function I just saw does. At this point, there are really no 'wrong' answers, I just want a better idea and another perspective from another.

Double points for me because the thing I saw isn't even in game.

If a third game comes out in the unforeseeable future, I am betting that I will see what I just saw from my dreams/memories because weird shit like this always happens to me.

[cringelordofchaos]

HOW DO DIGITAL TECHNOLOGICAL DEVICES ACHIEVE "TRUE" RANDOMNESS?

- Question written and asked by, yours truly, cringelordofchaos on Tumblr.

This is only proving my idiocy and naivete, but let me explain.

This question has been boggling my mind for a while, and yet I fail to find an answer to it because I don't know actual shit about technology or the world around me, come to think of it. Yet I'm still curious, and I can't find much satisfying results on Google.

(I had also tried to discuss this with my close ones, but none of us really came to a satisfying conclusion, only more questions.)

(I hadn't tried asking AIs like ChatGPT directly - but in all honesty I would rather have discussion with human beings directly (albeit chatGPT is arguably somewhat of a combination of humanity.)

Is anything in life truly random? Besides the start of the existence itself, we can assume we know how most things and event happen in life. That is the domino affect; one action or circumstance leads to another. Nothing ceases to exist, it only changes it's form. Almost everything in our life can be explained to an extent, right? If I were to sneeze, it wouldn't be random, there would be actions that would lead my body to be in a position for sneezing. If I were to be diagnosed with ADHD, it wouldn't be random or a "10% chance", it would be due to a long like of combinations of genetics and possible environmental impacts, among other things (though it's still researched). What we call luck, or a "chance" - is merely a pattern of circumstances unforeseeable to us.

Nobody is really "unlucky" are we? It could be said I would be unlucky if I were to visit a party only to realize, after I've set everything up, that it was cancelled the last moment and I didn't know. It wouldn't be a matter of luck, it would be the matter of me simply not being let known the party was cancelled.

So "luck" and "chance" are simply things out of our own control. It's not that they don't exist, but in my personal opinion they are *not* synonymous with "randomness", which I don't necessarily believe in itself is really a thing.

At least that's how I've come to know it. My thoughts may change regarding his subject.

I would like to let everyone know that I'm but a mere, naive teenager, still figuring shit out. Not only about the world around me, but also myself. So I apologize in case I have spread misinformation; that is merely me being rather "stupid", or just uneducated.

Now, after this unnecessary explanation, here is where I am confused.

With AI and modern technology you can achieve wonders, some would say. Among those wonders, you may go to ChatGPT or AIs alike, and ask them for a simple prompt;

"choose a random colour"

"choose a random number"

"choose randomly; left or right"

"choose a random x"

Stuff like that.

And chatGPT may do as your command.

.....but how??

Based on *what* former circumstances does it give you a "random" (x)? What past circumstances lead to chatGPTS decision? Because you can ask the same question with the same phrasing multiple times, and the only thing that will change is the.. result. Which confuses me.

A commonly quoted sentence is "insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result". Because to have a different result, circumstances simply have to differ at least in *some* way. Whether it'd be formerly defined Luck (external factors outside of one's individual personal control) or different options made by the individual in question.

In reality, you *can* do the same thing over and over again, and with the time gain a different result - that is, if Luck is present.

But.. with chat gpt? It isn't Luck. It's... Seemingly random.

Because external factors outside of personal control is still in *someone's* (or in some*thing's*-) control. You may be Unlucky in case there is a hurricane, but there is a long scientific explanation for why a hurricane came to be. You may be unlucky if you got with a manipulative significant other, because you scarcely had control in their upbringing or their behaviour, but your significant other have that control, or the people that raised that significant other had control.

If you asked me to think of a random number, and I seemingly randomly picked 8 - it is because ever since I was eight years old going forward I chose it to be my favorite number, for whatever reason. There's some form of complicated psychological/scientific explanation for it, I'm pretty sure.

You get me, I hope. (If I phrased anything poorly, please ask me to elaborate on any point.)

As for ChatGPT, there seemingly are no external factors that would make it's answers vary.

...odd.

Now, there are things chatGPT learns from; humans. People. Online articles, former conversations with humans, code input, etc.

In which case, if a specific number were to show up more often than other numbers, there*MAY* be a higher chance of it being favoured by services such as ChatGPT. (OR NOT. I DONT KNOW.)

Whatever it is, it still confuses me how its answer changes even when you ask the same question the same way.

Or.

Maybe, somewhere in its code, it's somehow precoded to give a specific number each time. (EXAMPLE) the first time it's asked to hand out a specific number, it was already coded to say "9", and it is given to person A. While the second time it's ever asked for a random number, it's precoded to say "241",

PROBABLY NOT, I heavily doubt this theory, especially as I have zero experience coding anything.

But that's the only theory my young naive head could come up with.

I also found this article online, questioning the state of randomness in ChatGPT - which was written after someone recognizing a consistent pattern, rather than true unfiltered randomness.

Another thing- stuff like - Digital gambling.

Unlike Artificial Intelligence, which learns from people, which may help with it handing out "random" options - it isn't like that with digital gambling, or in video games where you can purchase stuff, like Roblox or Fortnite or whatever.

Let's name an example. Imagine there's a video game, and you could buy a spin of a wheel, where there's a 50% (")chance(") of receiving a Common (digital) accessory, 30% chance of receiving an Uncommon accessory, 15% chance of receiving a Rare accessory, and 5% chance of receiving a "Legendary" accessory.

And it confuses me *so much*.

Because... Based on *what* does it give me those accessories? *What* leads me to gaining a legendary accessory, and what leads me to gaining a common one?? Because you do the same thing. You spin the wheel twice and get a different result.. how?

My sister told me, upon conversing with her about this, that "luck" - as some people may define it (as a spiritual thing or whatnot) - is not real, except in digital AIs, which would be the first case of Luck Actually Existing. That we have somehow INVENTED true randomness.

I find that hard to believe, and even harder to find an explanation of how this would be possible in the first place.

There must be an explanation for this.. somewhere... Right?

In case you code, or handle with digital science, do you have any insight on this?

(I cut it off short because I got tired of typing.)

[hertzwritings]

Cave in

A/N: Here’s the first one shot from my promptlist! I hope y’all will enjoy it, because I sure as hell loved writing it!

Prompt: “Don’t flatter yourself, I’m only here for the cake”

You can buy me a coffee here, and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one shot or multichapter fic, with whatever you want in it!

Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits because I am me, and I have none!

 MASTERLIST

PROMPTLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus sized!Female reader

Contains: Language, enemies to lovers, slight smut (18+ MINORS DNI), thigh riding, slight dirty talk, slight praise kink 

W.C.: 2.415

 Caved in

  It wasn’t your first choice to spend the evening – which, by the way, was the first day off you’d had in just around three weeks – left to your own devices at a random VIP party, your best friend had dragged you to.

You barely knew anyone, the drinks were terrible, and you felt too big, like you took up too much space with your body, to belong. A few sneers had already come your way, and you didn’t know why on earth she’d want you here.

You leaned against the table you had planted yourself at, sipping your god-awful drink slowly, trying to look like you belong.

 Which you didn’t, in your opinion.

You caught the azure-blue eyes of a certain man, you had hoped you wouldn’t meet and groaned under your breath. Perfect, really. Of course, he’d be here.  He cocked an eyebrow at you, which you returned with a tightlipped smile, tipping your glass to him.

Where the hell was Loes? She had run off, spotting a friend somewhere in the crowd with a hurried I’ll be right back – which was an hour ago. You were pretty sure she’d managed to land herself in a bathroom, probably with Sebastian Stan, if she had anything to say about it, and that left you alone for an unforeseeable future.

You texted her quickly, not really hoping for a response. She was probably balls deep at this point, which you did find impressive. Good for her, really.

 “I didn’t expect you to show up here.” His voice sent shivers down your spine, and you rolled your eyes. Motherfucking Henry Cavill. You turned around with a smile, that most definitely didn’t reach your eyes. “Hello to you, too.” He looked good, great, even. It was downright annoying. He was handsome as ever, his brown locks perfectly laid back, his suit fitting wonderfully over his chest and arms; you didn’t even have to look to know, that his pants were like glued to his thighs.

“Waiting for me?” There it was - the goddamn attitude. He always seemed to be better than anyone around him – except for when he was around Loes, who managed to ground her best friend. To you, he was insufferable and deeply egocentric – he never even tried to get along with you, despite your efforts. He always did the face, where his stupid eyebrow cocked up, a slight smirk played on his lips and his eyes ran up and down your body as if he was asking and what do you think you are? It was annoying at best, at worst? It was enough to make you crumble a little. It hadn’t been better after you heard part of a conversation between him and Loes one night.

“Her body…” “Henry, you’re disgusting.” It was more than enough for you to know how he felt about you. That, paired with the way he looked at you, made you feel annoyingly small and seething with anger, every time you saw his stupid face. It was shitty, mostly because you honestly had tried to get along with him – Loes was your best friend and his, and you did quite like the way he looked. Also, the way he talked to people was nice – just not directed at you.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I’m only here for cake.” You spat. “Not surprising.” You narrowed your eyes at him, and something flashed in his eyes – guilt, maybe? – and you sneered at him. “What the fuck is your problem? Are you kidding me? We’ve known each other for a year, and you’re acting like I cut off your big toe or some shit. Try being a polite person, next time, asshole.” You pushed yourself from the table, gathered your things, tears burning in your eyes. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, so you rushed from the venue, standing outside and lit up a cigarette while texting Loes that you felt sick and wanted to go home. “Y/N, wait!” You sighed and closed your eyes. “I seriously do not want to talk to you, Henry. Can we just… Like… Not like each other from a distance?” You asked defeatedly, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Can I have one?” He asked, pointing to the pack in your hand. You rolled your eyes, but gave him one, anyway. “Didn’t take you for a smoker.” He chuckled at that and lit up his own cigarette, puffing the smoke out with a content sigh. “Shouldn’t be, really. Only in certain situations.” “Same. Anyway, good to get insulted by you yet again, I’ll go now.” You began to walk, but he grabbed your elbow, holding you in place. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you.” You huffed. “Sure, Henry. Listen, I’ll be nice around you, so Loes won’t have to pick between us, but I’m not here for your amusement or for you to look down on. I’m a person, and I do have a sliver of self-respect left in me.” You said, cocking your eyebrow at him. “I… When have I insulted you?” He asked, genuinely confused. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You seethed. “You’ve done nothing but your best to make me feel as small and insignificant as possible, since I met you. You never talk to me, and when you do, it’s laced with hidden insults and jabs. You look at me like I’m dirt under your feet, and you think you haven’t insulted me?” You glared at him. “You’re currently insulting my fucking intelligence, Henry.” He looked taken aback, but his hand didn’t leave your elbow. You stomped on your cigarette. “Let me go.” “No. Hang on, you can’t just say all that and then expect me to not retort.” “Oh, yes, please let me hear what you have to say about me.” You said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I do so love to hear your innermost thoughts.” “Just… Come here.” He dragged you to an alley and stopped, his hand now on your shoulder, bending down to be eyelevel with you. Fucking tall man.

 “Listen to me.” His eyes searched yours and you glared at him, putting as much venom in your eyes as you could. “I’m truly sorry that I’ve insulted you, and that you think I think of you as lesser.” You snorted. “Oh, come on…” He cut you off. “Seriously. I didn’t mean for that at all. I think you’re a wonderful person, and I would be hard pressed to find something negative about you to say or even think. Except, of course, your vehement hate for me.” His lips slid into a smile. “But I honestly… I never wanted to insult you or make you feel bad.” “That’s rich. You literally just said not surprising when I said I was here for cake, which, by the way, was a lie.” He frowned. “Oh!” He smiled. “No, I didn’t mean anything by that. I thought you knew it was one of the best pastry chefs who made it, that’s why I said it. I truly came here for the cake. No way in hell I’d miss that.” It was your turn to frown. “What?” “Yeah. I didn’t imply anything with it.” You were digesting his words.

“Well, what about your conversation with Loes?” “Which one? We talk a lot.” He asked, finally deeming that you probably weren’t going to run away from him, and let your shoulder go, leaning against the wall opposite you, hands in his pockets. “You… It’s a few months ago. I mean, I overheard part of it, which was you pretty much gagging over my body and her telling you, that you were disgusting.” To your surprise, he blushed. He looked like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie-jar. He rubbed the back of his neck, and the sight of him looking so… Bashful, while leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face and a foot propped up against the brick behind him, made your stomach swirl. That was uncharacteristically hot.

“Oh, that.” “Yeah, that.” You sighed. “It’s fine if you find me… Like… Not to your liking, I mean…” You gestured to his body. “You look like that, and you’ve dated women who were the size of my thigh, but that gives you no right to…” He cleared his throat. “You misunderstood.” “Sure, I did.” “No, really.” He licked his lips. “Loes thought I was disgusting because I couldn’t stop talking about you. I was talking about…” He sighed and closed his eyes, before they landed on you again, this time with fire burning behind the blue. “I was talking about how attractive I found you. Your body. You are truly a vision to me, and I had a hard time shutting up about it. Lo thought I was a pig.” He laughed a little at the memory. “She told me that I should stop talking to her about it, and just say it to you. I wanted to, but then you started acting like I was the biggest stain on your existence, so I decided against it.” You swallowed thickly and blinked a few times.

He thought you were hot? Like… Actually attractive. Suddenly, everything began to make sense. “Oh.” You exhaled. Every time he had looked you up and down, it hadn’t been in disgust, it was because he was admiring you – a lot of puzzle-pieces fell into place in your head. “Wait, then… Why are you acting to high and mighty? Cocky?” “I guess it’s a defense mechanism? I’m not sure. I guess I tried to impress you. Seem… Confident. I had no idea it had an adverse effect.” “Well, now you do.” You grin at him. “I never thought you’d look at me in any way, if I’m being honest.” He frowned and looked deeply insulted. “What? Have you seen yourself? You look like… that!” He gestured to your body, and you felt a familiar heat crawl to your cheeks. “That dress should be illegal in all countries.” He pushed away from the wall and his fingers found the strap, toying with it. Your breath hitched. “I’m damn sure it is.” He mumbled, mostly to himself and the pad of his finger slid against your skin, trailing goosebumps in their wake. “Were you serious? This isn’t just a play to get me to like you and then you tear me down?” His fingers stilled and his eyes locked on yours. They were dark – you chalked it up to the darkness of the alley. “I’d never do anything like that, darling.” He said seriously. When you nodded, his fingers began moving again. “You’re… Entirely unaware of the effect you have on people.” He said in a hushed voice. “I don’t have an effect on people.” You whispered breathily. His fingers rested on your collarbone now, and you had to lean against the wall to avoid your knees buckling. He chuckled. “Oh, darling, you really have no idea. The way you turn heads. All eyes on you… You carry yourself so damn confidently, it’s hard not to look.” “People look because of my weight.” “I don’t. I promise you, every time you’re in the room, my eyes are on you. You’re… Irresistible. Like a forbidden fruit.” He murmured. His fingers trailed your collarbone, dipping in the hollow between them, before moving to the other side. “Henry, I…” Your breath hitched again as his fingers pushed the strap on your shoulder down just a little. “You are fucking sinful. You walk around like this…” He let the strap glide further down your shoulder. “Without even knowing how fucking hard you get me…” The strap was at your elbow. “How much I imagine being inside of you, making you mine…” You gasped as the dress finally gave in and slipped from your chest, following the strap. He groaned as his eyes found your hardened nipple. “Fucking hell, Y/N… You’re going to be the death of me.” His eyes found yours, hands hovering just above your exposed chest. He looked like he was waiting on approval, and your brain did the only thing, it could think of.

 With a moan, your lips connected with his, desperation and urgency settling nicely in between moans – his hand flew to your chest, kneading it, while your hands found the back of his neck, grabbing tufts of hair in the nape of his neck; he growled and pushed his body against yours, his thigh between your legs and you couldn’t help the whine, that overtook you, when he pressed against your core. He tasted like whiskey sour and cigarettes, but there was something else, something so entirely Henry, it made you feel drunk. You rolled your hips, creating friction where you could, grinding down on his thigh. He was kissing you like his life depended on it, as if he had wanted nothing but kissing you for his entire life. It was teeth and tongue, roaming hands and your dripping core that made a mess of his – probably very expensive – pants. Your hips stuttered as you felt pleasure creep up on you, and he grinned against your lips.

“Look at my pretty girl… Want to cum on my thigh, baby? Soak my pants…?” You mewled and whispered his name, when he pressed you down a little, letting you rut against his thigh harshly. “Do it, baby… Cum for me, right here, on my fucking thigh…” You moaned against his lips, riding his thigh until you exploded. His lips were searing against yours and he swallowed your sounds as you came hard, pleasure running rampant through your body. Your nerves were burning, every cell in your body was screaming for more and you had lost all control over your breathing and yourself. You were clawing his back, nails digging into his jacket, and you realized that he was holding you up effortlessly. Fucking hell.  

You came down with small, heaving breaths, while he kissed your collarbone and neck; you couldn’t see straight. He slowly removed his hand from your breast and deftly put the dress back on your chest and shoulder, before he lowered you carefully to the ground. He held your shoulders tightly until he was sure, you can stand on your own two feet. He kissed you softly again.

 “Want to get out of here with me?” “You have no idea.” You grinned and he kissed you longingly, already pulling you towards his car.

  ----------------------

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[cravingcrazewriting]

Older And Wiser (but not really)

Trigger Warning- VERY small mention of desire to end one's own life. Plus transgender Evan because I love him

Thanksgiving was always a roll of the dice for Evan.

Some Thanksgivings he got to spend with his mom. Others he spent with Jared and his family. When they were both gone, Heidi would celebrate the next day when she was off.

Ironically though, both of these situations were going underway, leaving Evan alone for Thanksgiving. Although it hurt to be alone, he knew it wasn't really anyone's fault. Thanksgiving was a time for family and friends, so naturally people had to leave to go see other relatives out of state (Alana was going with her dad's to visit her grandparents, if he wasn't mistaken).

The only person that was still around was Connor, who's family hosted hosted a big Thanksgiving meal. Evan thought it was sweet since it was usually just him and his mom. It wasn't that they didn't have any family, but rather working as a nurse and the unforeseeable weather that almost always brought about a snow storm, so it was nearly impossible to see relatives until Hanukkah.

Evan pulled out an box that had differently colored leafs scattered across the wrapping he had dressed around it. He decided against putting a bow on it and went to set it out on the table. It was a gift for Connor, for a Thanksgiving gift exchange. It was something he and Heidi always did, so Evan decided to let Connor join in on the fun.

He'd saved some money from doing work with the neighbors, part of it for his top surgery, and the other half for holiday shopping. The tasks they asked were simple, such as vacuuming, dusting, or cleaning (in the fall, he mowed lawns).

He'd already had made a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch, since pretty much everything was closed for the holiday, he couldn't order out. Currently his binder was off and in his room, as he'd already worn it for eight hours, and needed to remove it. It was god awful, but wearing it for too long could fracture his ribs, and he did not want to be responsible for a hospital bill. Still, an oversized shirt he stole from Connor helped out a little bit with how unsettled he felt.

He gently set the box down on the dining table, and went to make a box of Mac and Cheese, as he was okay with spoiling himself just a little bit for the holiday. While he was filling up a pot with water, his phone vibrated. Evan pulled out his phone to read it.

Connor <3: Dinner just finished up. Can I go to your place? Don't think I can stay another minute at home

Evan: Sure! We can share Mac and Cheese!

Although he was trying to hold back enthusiasm, he was really happy that Connor was coming. He'd spent a lot of lonely days with Connor either cuddling, talking, making jokes, watching random shit on Netflix, or a mix of all of that (with a fair share of kisses, as well).

Evan made sure to keep an eye on the time as the water boiled, practically checking his phone almost every thirty seconds, not wanting to keep Connor waiting outside very long.

Ultimately the doorbell rang later, which made Evan practically run to the door and swung it open from being in a rush. It could've been worse. At least he didn't accidentally dent the wall.

Outside, Connor was holding an envelope and a box wrapped in plain orange wrapping paper. Underneath was some food in long, plastic and portable boxes, with a bottle that looked like alcohol. He was wearing his jacket and trench coat, ripped jeans, and black thin looking gloves. He was smiling at how fast Evan answered the door.

"Please tell me you— you didn't bring alcohol," Evan held the door open, watching Connor step inside and set his things down on the coffee table.

"You have no faith in me?" He asked innocently, picking up what revealed to be sparkling grape juice.

Evan snorted, "Okay, faith restored. Er, did you want me to... t-take your coat?"

Connor shrugged off the trench coat with ease. "Nah, you're just gonna steal it later," he teased him, before looking at the kitchen. "Besides, I know where to put it. It looks like you've got something cooking."

"I need to stir my Mac and Cheese!" Evan fretted, running into the kitchen, leaving behind a laughing Connor.

He gave the pot a quirk stir, watching a few remains of butter slip around inside. He set the wooden spoon down, and felt a pair of arms wrap around his upper chest and a chin rest itself on his head.

"Um. Can you m-move your arms?" Evan grabbed his forearms gently, and pulled them down.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, sorry," Connor realized his binder was off in that moment, so he slid his arms down to his waist to hold him there loosely and gently. He dropped his head to Evan's shoulder. "That looks good."

"It's just cheese and noodles," Evan giggled, rolling his eyes.

"They're good cheesy noodles," he muttered begrudgingly, nestling his face into the crook of Evan's neck.

The two stayed like that, happily finishing up the Mac and Cheese, before putting them into bowls, and piled onto the couch to eat. Evan had to resist the urge to climb onto Connor's lap, tackle him on the couch, or anything because they were just starting to eat, and he had to have a little self control. So, he settled Connor's legs on his lap as they began to talk about everything and nothing.

"My big shot cousin was there, making a big deal about his business, and how much money he was making, which lead to the 'You see Connor, you can be like your cousin Jack over there' talk with Larry. He isn't thrilled about the fact I'm getting a tattoo," Connor explained in between bites.

Evan was eating a little slow, as he didn't want to eat too fast. "Um— what tattoo did you w-wanna get?"

"A semi colon on my wrist," Connor gestured to his right wrist. "It means that at one point I wanted to end my life, but I kept going."

Evan couldn't help but smile. "You're so strong."

"You are too," Connor punched his arm lightly, in a playful manner. "You've been on testosterone for like— a year now, you're binding, hell, it must've been hard coming out to your mom."

He laughed lightly. "Well, I'd ask to go to the men's clothing in the mall, and if she'd ask why, I'd just say 'oh, their jeans actually have pockets'. Then she'd laugh and let me go, but I think she saw through that."

Connor snorted, "I think I love you even more just from that. Anyways, you want some turkey sandwiches? I brought like, four."

"Um, yes, because it wouldn't be Thanksgiving without a turkey," he grinned, opening up the container and pulled one out.

Connor opened the sparkling grape juice, and poured it into the cups Evan had grabbed. "And pretending we can drink by using special cups and bottles."

Evan took his cup once he was done. "It makes me feel fancy," he said with a laugh, before taking a sip.

"When's your mom getting home?" Connor opened another container that contained biscuits and a few pieces of apple pie.

"Late tonight. We're celebrating tomorrow, didn't I tell you that?" Evan grabbed a biscuit.

"Well you did, and today I realized you were all by yourself. Didn't want to deal with my uptight relatives, and didn't want you being all lonely. It's a win-win," the latter shrugged. "Anyways, when'd you wanna open your present?"

"After we're done eating," Evan swallowed. "This stuff you brought is too good."

The two young boys continued to eat and chat away happy, and at one point, Evan had grabbed Connor's trench coat, and had it draped around his shoulders happy. Connor snuck a few photos of him with the oversized coat on as payback.

"Okay, open it," Evan set Connor's gift in his lap, excited for the other,

"I get to go first?" Connor began taking off the wrapping. "Isn't this your tradition? And your house?"

"Well you're the guest, so you go first," Evan responded, smiling.

With the wrapping off, Connor carefully undid the box lid and looked inside. Within the box was a purple beanie, a sketchbook, and some colored pencils.

"Ev... this is so sweet," Connor gushed, and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. "Thank you..." He was blushing slightly.

Evan was red from the small sign of affection. "Oh um, it wasn't a problem." He replied, watching as Connor set a box on his lap next.

Being very delicate, he removed the wrapping paper, and looked at what was inside. There was a dark green sweater, a scented candle that smelt like candy canes, and a rather adorable looking T-Rex plushie.

Evan set the box beside him, and was about to thank him, when Connor held his hand out, and handed him the envelope.

"Read it first," he'd said ever so softly.

Evan couldn't help but oblige, curious as to what it was Connor obviously wanted him to see. He peeled open the lid as neatly as he could (which wasn't that neat) and pulled out a card.

Connor had drawn a cartoon turkey on the front, with the words "Happy Turkey Day to not just my boyfriend, but to my best friend". When he opened to the inside, there was a small stack of money and a large margin on the left side. "Evan, I know you've been working really hard on getting money for your top surgery, but with Hanukkah coming up, I thought you'd need a little boost. I love you, and I hope it helps.- Connor". The stack had fifty dollars, which was held in place with a rubber band.

"I know you wanted to do this by yourself, but you've... you've done a lot for me, and you deserve this," Connor twisted his ring, and smiled.

"It's just enough! Thank you!" Evan enthusiastically threw his arms around him, holding him close.

Connor chuckled, hugging him back. "You're welcome, Ev.."

And when Heidi saw Evan the next time, well, it was the happiest he'd ever been.

[asraspeaks2]

So the Asshole's random motion has been pushed into the unforeseeable future. Rather than cancel it, my attorney believes keeping it hanging over our heads is a strategy. Who knows. As far as I'm concerned it's just another way for everyone to make money out of this divorce (it's been three years and the vultures are still circling). The stupid Ex is such a baffoon he keeps fueling this shit. He's broke. Up to his eyeballs in debt, yet as soon as he has a few thousand saved up...it's back to court to glare at me. I'm thinking he's waiting for his tax return before he files some other shit. Whatever.

My colleague (she had a shitty ex that loved filing motions) said to be careful. Pick my battles. She can tell he enjoys fighting and any reaction from me will feed his crazy. She's right. But getting three months of threats and porn pushed me to my breaking point. In the end, I spent $5000 and he spent close to 3x that amount, but for what? Burden of proof led to just him chastised by the judge. No jail time. Just the threat of it. At least the porn and threats stopped.

I'm tired. The legal system is just a bullshit pyramid scheme.

[sacredandwild]

A little important psa

For the next unforeseeable amount of time ( it’ll be for about three months in rp time, give or take ), Drevyn’s going on hiatus ( hiatus meaning that he’s not going to be one of the random muses I reply to memes with when not specified and I won’t be starting threads with him without plotting first ), but it’s for a good, story thing!!! While he knows who the hell he is on the ‘being the most feared motherfucker in los angeles’ thing goes, he has no idea who he as far as his culture goes or where he comes from, what little associations he has with it are from his parents and they’re all negative and he wants to be able to know about it without those associations.

So, everyone’s problematic favourite is going to spend three months in Hawaii ( he will end up in Maui ) learning all he can about his culture and about the family he has no idea about and I’m probably going to end up drabbling all these feels fests and fucking myself up in the process, it’ll be great.

Just letting you all know because him not being here does affect the pack and this will be put in place with any starters I write with them as of posting. Yes. You can go back to your normally scheduled writing an shit posting now.

[bngjwn]

hi yes i’m very late i know i’m Sorry  bUt pls enjoy this gif of yoongi being the cute baby he is because it’s gonna be rare for you to see jiwan like that hfjdgfdjk ANYWAYS hello !! my name is liv ( she/her ), i’m 19 and in the gmt-4 timezone, and i bring to you my son BANG JIWAN. now, he’s not the most sociable or outgoing guy out there, but he has his charms i promise. he’s been through a lot in his life and nowadays he’s just ,, dealing with things as they come his way lmao you can find his unfinished stats HERE and i don’t have a plots page just yet but i’m literally open to anything !! i might have one up in the future, though jkdjdshjs under the cut i’ve gathered some information about jiwan, so if you wanna plot with us just like this post and i’ll come bother you uwu let’s get to it !!

tw: mentions of alcohol & drugs, death, jail-related themes

┅ ☆ ★ ✮ ∟ ‖ min yoongi. 26. cismale. he/him. ‖— extinguishing cigarettes on snow , black tattoos on pale skin , feeling the wind against your face. 」did you hear that BANG JIWAN is planning on attending the next race ?! i won’t lie, i’m pretty excited to see their BLACK ASTON MARTIN VANTAGE in person. i know people say they’re really  SELF-RELIANT , DISCERNING & PHLEGMATIC , but don’t you think they come off way too UNFORESEEABLE  ,  BLASÉ & CONTUMACIOUS ? i hear they’re always blasting RENEGADE by STYX ? oh well, they’re a member of the HELLCATS so i guess i shouldn’t complain.

╭ ⌑ past.

jiwan was born in gwangju, south korea, and his childhood was what most people would consider nice. he had nice things -- nice clothes, a nice house, nice friends, nice opportunities... it was really a shame his parents weren’t just as nice

he was often put under pressure by his parents ( two successful business people ), who never really understood why their son was so closed off like that. he got very good grades at school, but he was always that shy kid no one talks to. he was that child the teacher always forgets is in their class, and that was okay. he liked being by himself; didn’t feel like he needed anyone else, even at such a young age

jiwan played by himself, studied by himself, went out by himself. he liked to sit alone in the park and just watch as people walked by. sometimes people thought he was weird, but he just enjoyed his own presence; always had, and that was a fact. maybe he indeed was a little weird, though

he tended to never initiate conversations with anyone, but would follow along with no issue if someone came up to talk to him. that’s the only reason why he was able to have a small circle of friends all through elementary and high school

things changed in high school, in which jiwan got involved with the wrong people and started doing things his parents definitely wouldn’t be proud of if they knew about it; they were only happy their son was finally socializing and being a normal teenager

well... not so normal, since his outings with his friends involved a lot of alcohol, drugs, getting his first tattoos ( in secret ) and irresponsible car rides on the outskirts of town. around that time, jiwan fell in love with the way the wind hit his face when he went shotgun in one of his friends’ cars or just drove himself, smiling brightly for what felt like the first time in his life, loving the adrenalin it gave him

in the middle of his third year in high school, his parents died in a plane crash while flying to an important business meeting in another country. jiwan suddenly found himself as an 19-year-old orphan with nothing on him besides his excessive quietness. he cried at their death and felt horrible for all of the bad things he’d ever thought about them ( and thankfully not said ), but he also felt angry in a way he’d never felt before

frustrated with the loss of his parents, he went out with his friends and drank his ass off, accidentally starting a club fight that got him into a lot of trouble

he actually ended up being dragged to the police station after that, being sentenced to a year in jail, completely unable to bail himself out because of his heritage money being frozen by the bank

needless to say, jiwan wasn’t happy at all to be going to jail right after his parents died. he had so much resentment inside himself, so much hatred but at the same time he went back to being the quiet guy he was before he got involved with the wrong crowd

somehow, no one messed with him during his time in jail. he was still only 19, but the way he portrayed himself to the outside public was something that made people feel intimidated, somehow. none of his “friends” from before the accident happened came to visit him while he was locked up, which he pretended not to care about, but deep inside, he felt a bit hurt

being in jail taught him that he really couldn’t trust anyone besides himself. if he was an individualist before, it got even stronger after he got out of jail a year later

it was tough to get his heritage money back, going through a lot of paperwork with the bank, but when he finally did get it back, he used most of it to buy himself a nice car and then ride off towards busan -- he had visited the city once before and felt immediately drawn to it

in busan, it wasn’t too tough to settle down, since he still had a bunch of money left, so he quickly found a small flat for himself, which contrasted a whole fucking lot with his fancy ass car, but, you know... priorities

he went back to being the quiet one among everyone else, getting random jobs here and there, riding on his car by himself and experiencing the happiness it gave him without anyone by his side -- it was literally the only thing keeping him alive. it was nice, he never really minded being by himself, and it was a big surprise when a group of guys approached him one day, telling him they had seen him riding just out of town and wanting to know if he’d like to join them to form a group of people who also raced. it was very out of the blue, but jiwan accepted. he had nothing to lose anyway ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

╭ ⌑ present.

jiwan is part of the original members of the hellcats, way back when the gang was just starting off, so he’s often seen as some kind of inspiration for people who have joined later on ( even if he himself doesn’t quite understand that )

he’s a full time racer, not having any other side jobs because it’s just too much effort and he really can’t be bothered to overwork himself for some cash he very obviously doesn’t need -- everything he earns goes straight to upgrading his car or just maintaining it in general

he’s a very good racer, has lost a few races in his lifetime, but never got super crazy over them like some people in his gang get

jiwan’s still living in the same fucked up flat he got when he moved to busan; he doesn’t think it’s necessary to buy something bigger

╭ ⌑ personality & extras.

he won’t tell anyone this, but his car’s name is actually kiki

jiwan doesn’t often talk about his feelings, since he tends to keep everything to himself, but if he trusts someone enough ( which is hard ), he’ll definitely have some deep conversations with them about anything and everything

he doesn’t have anything against anyone. he’s a peaceful guy. yes, he has some resentful feelings inside himself, but never lets it show. most of the time, he will appear calm and collected and like he doesn’t give a shit about what’s happening around him

he’s had some pretty bad things happen in his life and by now he doesn’t get impressed by too little; he’s become indifferent to most things

in the love department...... he doesn’t do very well. he mostly sleeps around and has casual flings or just friends with benefits and no strings attached at all, but when he falls in love with someone, he falls hard, and becomes someone else entirely, always trying to protect them and make them feel loved. it’s really a contrast to the person he usually appears to be

tbh, he’s only ever been in one serious relationship, which ended pretty badly, and even if he didn’t hold a grudge against his ex ( doyeon ), the fact that he still does to this day just sends him and he can’t help but bite back

that being said, he doesn’t initiate any fights, but if instigated, he will retaliate

btw he’s not very competitive so he’s really only in it for the racing part lmao it pisses him off sometimes when other people in his gang get really fucking mad when they lose a race. like. calm down greg it's soccer

doesn’t care about the rivalry between the kings and the hellcats. if you’re nice to him, he’ll be ( moderately ) nice to you. if you try to shoot him on the foot, he’ll do just the same to you

he actually has a black ragamuffin called bomi. in his most stressful days, he likes to go home and allow her to claim his lap as his favorite spot to sleep on. the image of him with his cat is probably the softest thing anyone’s ever going to see, so he tries to not show people that lmao

however DEEP deep inside ( really deep ) he’s just..... very soft. cares a lot about his friends and will do anything in his power to keep them safe and content. you just gotta earn his trust first

[thoughtsbecomeplots]

“At the tone, please record your message.”

B E E P.

“Those motherfuckers won’t tell me where they took the girls!”

He didn’t even wait for the beep to fully finish before he released his pent up anger, “It was one thing to separate us, but to not let me know where they are? It’s fucking bullshit!” His words we’re punctuated by the closest thing to him (a book) that was chunked across the room, crashing against the wall with a loud thud.

The hand holding the phone tightened almost to the point of breaking but with a deep breath through his nose, Roxas calmed enough to keep talking. “They’re shipping me off to a halfway house or some bullshit.” He stared down at the bed where a duffel bag and clothes were strewn about after a small anger burst.

“Fucking..” Another deep breath was taken, hand threading through blond spikes an a death grip latched onto them, “I don’t.. I don’t know if I can do this..” He murmured, staring at the wall but not really seeing it.

Thinking back on it, Roxas couldn’t remember a time where he was away from and of his siblings for more than a few days, a week and some change at the most that one time but.. he’s always know where everyone was, or at least some idea and he could take comfort in that.

His family was split into pieces.

“Hopefully Sora will be allowed near a computer. I give him two days before he’s found a way to get ahold of me.” The brunette was being taken to another halfway house across the city- he was at least privy to that but of information, though specificity where remained to be seen.

“That’s if these fuckers let me keep my phone..” The idea was just now reaching the forefront of his mind, having been lingering with the half a million thoughts running rampant in his brain. “Here’s to hoping.”

The phone was quickly flipped closed, hand gripping it tightly and for a split second the thought to chunk it at the wall crossed his mind. But he shook it away and shoved it into his front pocket so he could stuff whatever clothes his hands landed into the bag just as a knocked sounded on the front door.

-

“At the tone, please record your message.”

B E E P.

“Let it be known that Sora is not stupid. Dumb as fuck, but not stupid.” Roxas said in lewd of an actual greeting, laughing lightly at his own words before muttering, “That probably makes no fucking sense..”

It had only take his twin a day and a half before he was texting him from a number to best contact him. The people running the home he’d been sentenced to had tried to take his phone- even going as far as to search his bag and person. But Roxas was no idiot. He’d slipped the device into a potted plant in the entry way as soon as he caught sight of it in the entry way upon entering the house.

Only when he was sure they were done with his search did he go back for it and waited for a time where everyone was properly distracted to shoot off a response back Sora.

For all his hacking abilities, there was no trace of where Namine and Xion had been shipped off to. And that’s what he told the voicemail, running hand through his hair and pacing the small length of the bedroom he’d call home for the unforeseeable future. “Knowing them motherfuckers they’re probably keeping that information on paper only.”

He kept his voice low as he spoke, sure that there was only two other people in the house downstairs, but not wanting to take any chances. “Sora’s going to keep digging but..” His words trailed off, shaking his head and taking a deep breath, “Never thought I’d miss have him at my back, but here we are..”

And it was true.

The two of them were about as opposite as two could be, but there was something about being a twin that connected to two of them. Up until probably the last year or so, it wasn’t often you saw one of them without the other. It was easy to slip folks up when they both wore hats and it was one of their favorite cons.

Roxas had grown use to knowing for the most part, the brunet would be there for him to fall back on or draw off of but..

Now it was like an empty space.

Footsteps on the stairs had blue eyes widened, “Fuck. I’ve gotta go.” The phone was flipped closed and dropped into his shoe that was nudged under the bed that he flopped back on. A random notebook was grabbed and pen, making it look as though he were reading over notes from class.

-

“At the tone, please record your message.”

B E E P.    

“I got to talk to Namine today. She.. She actually..” Roxas’ voice trailed off, eyes scanning the skatepark he’d been allowed to visit for the first time in weeks. He leaned his head against the chain link fence, closing his eyes, “Is kinda doing okay.” The words were said with a bit of hurt, thinking back to the earlier conversation he had with her.

“Not that she doesn’t miss us, she does!” He quickly amended, eyes shooting open and staring up at the sky, watching the clouds drift by, “She.. she almost broke down when I told we haven’t heard from Xion but.. I think this might be good for her..” Namine wasn’t soft by any means, he’d seen her take down a full grown man when he tried to grab her ass. But she had a good heart and never really took well to the cons that usually took to keep the house running. Out of all of them, she was the one that held down the most steady of a job tempting at different places.  

“You know she’s always like art and they’ve got her in this program where she’s interning at the museum.” Blue eyes tracked a single cloud making it’s way across the sky, “I don’t.. I don’t want to fuck up this chance for her to actually make something of herself.” A harsh laugh left his lips, casting his eyes down at the small patch of grass that was sprouting from the cracks in the concrete. “But I’m a selfish piece of shit and want us together.. All of us.” The words were said directly in the phone, his grip tightening on it for a moment before a beep sounded in is ear.

“I’ve.. I’ve got to go my curfew,” He spoke the word as if they were a curse, with a roll of his eyes as he stood, “Is in ten minutes. Wouldn’t want to fuck up my good behavior yard time.”

He lingered on the line for a moment before murmuring, “I miss you..” and swiftly hanging up and shoving the phone in his pocket.

-

“At the tone, please record your message.”

B E E P.

“Hey Ax..”

Roxas took a deep breath, staring out at the skyline without really seeing it, “I.. don’t even know if you’re fucking getting these but.. it’s about the only thing that’s keeping me from loosing it so..”

A hand reached up to fix the beanie settles over messy spikes, the harsh winter wind worse up on the towering building he sat atop, “I got to see Xion today.” The laugh he let out was hallow, breath creating a fog before him, “She fucking hates it there.. they’re got her in sundresses.. Xion in sundresses? Can you believe it?”

He was quiet for a moment, caught up in seeing the pieces of his siblings' lives from the side lines, “I miss them. All of them. They were such pains in the asses but.. they were my pain in the ass..” His voice had taken on a raspy quality to it, throat closing up on the verge of tears.

But it was quickly forced away but a few throat clearings and sniffing, “I, uh, miss you too.” He said quietly, so if it didn’t want to admit it. “Everything is.. a fucking mess and.. I have no idea what to do..” A snort left him, “Bet you’d never hear me say that.. but.. I just want everyone together again..”

Blue eyes finally took in the skyline before him, frowning softly once he noticed the sun just beginning to rise. When had it gotten so late? Or early? Last time he glanced at the sky the stars were just starting to make themselves known.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later..”

Just as the sun peaked over the horizon, a single tear rolled down his cheek that he did nothing to stop.

-

“At the tone, please record your message.”

B E E P.

Silence hung on the line for a few moments before Roxas spoke, “You know, you’d think the one that would try to be working to get us together would be our eldest sibling, but no he’s apparently disappeared off the face of the earth!” The longer he talked, the louder his voice grew, glad he was for once left in the group house alone. “I mean.. He hasn’t even attempt to get ahold of us and it’s fucking Christmas Eve tomorrow!”

A book was grabbed and chunked at the wall, “We’re suppose to be a family but he just leaves us?” His voice had taken on a strained quality, vision blurring with unshed tears.

Of course he was the one that had to explain to Xion that no one had heard from Ven since they were separated when he was allowed to visit her earlier that day. Namine was more subdued when he admitted to not hearing from him, her face falling and crystal eyes going bright with tears. Sora, much like himself, was pissed and vowed to do everything he could to hunt down their eldest brother, but so far it was to no avail.

“Why.. Why does..” Tears finally fell as his throat went scratchy, “Why does everyone fucking leave us?”

It was quiet again as Roxas tried to gather himself together, watching the snow fall softly against the ground outside. “I. I’ve got to get us back together.” He said, voice a lot firmer that it was a moment ago, “I’ve.. been thinking about how to go about it with Sora’s help of course.”

The blond turned from the window and began pacing, “Everything we’ve come up with feels like it’s going to fail. And I can’t...” He took a deep breath, “We can’t afford this to fail.”

His pacing paused, a hand settling against his chest where the pendent around his neck forever rested. Of course the thought had crossed his mind, the number he memorized when he was ten floating to the forefront of his mind.

“I.. I might have an idea.. But.. I’m going to need your help.” His hand tightened around the necklace, points digging into his palm even through his shirt, “Please call me as soon as you can.” He let the line hold for a moment longer before ending the call, staring at the numbers on the phone.

“Here goes nothing..”

After typing in the numbers, Roxas held the phone to his ear and listened to it ring with a baited breath.

“Midgar Train Station.”

The deep voice had him startling a bit, that not being the voice he was expecting, nor were those the words.

“Um..” He stared up at the ceiling, trying to place the phrase he memorized long ago, “A Train Can’t Run Anywhere Except Where Its rails Take It.”

For a moment, he thought he’d said the wrong thing, but the voice said, “One moment.”

There was the sound of movement and footsteps along with quite voices.

“Roxas.” Hearing his name said in his Uncle’s voice had his breath catching in his throat. It’d be.. Almost six years since he’d heard it. “Roxas, what’s wrong?”

It was then he realized he hadn’t responded and cleared his throat, keeping the tears he could feel at bay, ”Cloud.. I..” His voice trailed off, not sure how to begin to explain everything that had happened in the past few months and not sure how long he had to talk to the man he’d look to as a father for the first ten years of his life. “I tried.. I really did. But.. I can’t anymore.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and he made no movement to wipe them away, “We..” He closed his eyes, stealing himself, “I need your help.”