#sometimes the existence of this game just decides to hit me like a truck

[sailforvalinor]

Let us never forget how somehow Square Enix got Florence + the Machine to record an absolutely beautiful, Final Fantasy-esque cover of “Stand by Me,” and then played it during the opening scene of Final Fantasy XV where four dorks are pushing their broken-down convertible down a country back road and you’re sitting their like “aww, that’s quirky, that’s kinda cute,” but when they play it again during the end credits of the game you’re sobbing facedown into your living room carpet

[lampochkaart]

9 and 65!

65.) What’s Your Option On The Danganronpa 3 Anime?

Hi!! Sorry for taking so long to answer😅

I answered 9 here. As for 65... Short answer: I didn't really like it

I started writing this, but then I decided to actually rewatch it, since I only saw it once and it was 2 years ago. But my opinion actually didn't change at all.

Buckle up, I'm writing another long post where I complain about things

❗Obviously spoilers for the DR3 anime and DR1 and DR2 games below

I'm mostly talking about how I felt the first time when I was watching it.

I watched Future Arc first and then Despair Arc, even though you're supposted to watch them at the same time: 1 episode from Future, then 1 from Despair etc. And then the final episode (Hope Arc). But still. I kinda think it was better that way.

Because while I was watching future arc for the first time, I started get interested and even kinda liking it. The concept of forbidden action is cool, it was interesting to watch and discover why people were dying in the night. THAT SCENE WITH MAKOTO SEEING EVERYBODY WHO DIED. It was such a powerful scene. AND ALSO RYOTA!! I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S THE BEST CHARACTER IN THE ANIME!!

I was starting watch this anime thinking I won't care about it but then slowly began liking it. I thought "Hey, maybe it's not that bad!" But then I got to the despair arc... Honestly I was so dissapointed with it.

I have many complains, so I'm not even sure where to begin. I'll start with the thing that felt to me the most weird. The fact that their talent were far more like superpowers. I feel like in the games, even though there were some moments where the talents were more exaggeratedly powerful, in general they were still more like skills. And in the anime it's much more of a low level superpower.

I don't think there's a better example of that than Nagito's luck. Even though luck isn't really a skill or a talent, it was still something pretty grounded. In the game while his luck was impressive and played a big role, it was still, well... luck. A chance of things going like that was small but it's still very much possible. But in the anime it's more like something actually very supernatural, sometimes even comedically ridiculous.

But it wasn't just Nagito. Akane fucking run down the building wall. There might be more examples that I forgot, but those are the ones that felt the weirdest to me.

Speaking about weird. There are some moments that are very minor and exist pretty much just for laugh but they still bother me. Because they just don't work in this setting and in this story.

Like that moment where Kazuichi is hit by a truck and was pretty much fine (he was bandaged but he could move fine so he probably didn't even break any bones and also didn't appear to be in a lot of pain). You can't just let a character get hit by a truck for a ten second gag in a story where another character died from the same thing. You just can't do this.

Or a moment when Nekomaru literally blew up the wall by shitting really hard. This is just a short stupid joke, but here's the thing. You can't make this joke in a story where one of the major plot points was that students were locked inside the school and couldn't escape. The very same school that this guy just blew up the wall of.

Same thing with them blowing up the wall in their class. If the walls were so easily brocken, THH would've gone very differently.

The thing is, whenever you create a story, you always establish some sort of limits and stakes. And if the story has already established them you can't ignore them without a very good reason and explaination. ESPECIALLY just for a short joke. It's just plain bad writing.

Also I wanna mention the scene with the dog licking some potion and suddenly becoming giant. Because it's so stupid. Yes, Danganronpa was never that realistic, it has some moments that are over exaggerated for coolness or comedy. But this moment is still just looks weird and illogical with no reason.

While we're on a subject of weird unnecessary moments. This time the problem is not the scene being illogical, but the scene being unnecessary and questionably appropriate. I cannot not mention this stupid fucking moment from episode 2 of despair ark. You know, the one with the sex potion or whatever. It literally doesn't have ANY plot relevance and does not have any reason to exist other than for fanservice. Anything that it could possibly in any way serve for the narrative could be achieved differently.

This specific scene was the reason why I was hesitant about watching this anime at all. But thankfully it's relatively short. And also, knowing about the existance of this scene was probably good since seeing it if I didn't expect it would've been much worse for me.

Oh, and also Mikan's fanservice cg moments. If I'm not mistaken there were only two moments like that in the game, both in Ch.1. One to establish that it's something that can happen, and one as an actual plot point. I don't think there were those type of moments after that. But in the anime they gave us two more. Without any reason. Just as a call back to the game, like "haha look that's our silly old Mikan! that's just what she does! isn't it so funny?"

There were other fanservice moments with Mikan, but I'm not even gonna bring them up.

I also wasn't thrilled about some weird characterisation. The mild example is Mahiru — a confident outgoing girl that suddenly became timid and quiet. Maybe people thought that her personality in game was annoying, but I don't think that it's right to remove those core aspects of her personality to make her "better". She just feels like a different character to me. Maybe they did this so that she and her friend weren't too alike, but why not make it the other way around? Sato could ne more timid and Mahiru would've stayed protective. I really don't know why that did they cange Mahiru's personality.

And also maybe Nagito. I'm not calling myself a Nagito expert, I didn't thoroughly analize him. I don't know what about him in the anime throws me off, but something doesn't feel right with his behaviour. And also his classmates' reaction to him is sometimes more intence than it should be. Like, yeah, he was kinda weird, but until a certain point not too much. Like, that would be appropriate reaction to Ch.2 Nagito, but in the anime until he blew up a gym he was just a weird guy in a class of other weirdos.

But those are my minor complains. Whatever, it's not that big of a deal, I'm just nitpicking. But who's characterisation I actually HATE is Mukuro. She was normal in THH. She was actually even kinda cool in THH. And, I didn't read the novel with her, but from what I know, ij the novel she's also not like she's in the anime. So why WHY THE FUCK is she like this in the anime. I don't get why they made her like this. And I hate it so much. I have no love for anime Mukuro. I don't like her, never did and never will.

Anime Junko is also a little off. Like, she does have her other personalities, that appear sometimes, but most of the time she's just this cheery bitchy supermodel type. And this kinda... flattens her, I guess? Like, I feel like this kinda removes part of her charm and makes her less interesting. I'm not an expert about her either, but, again, for some reason with her it also feels like something is missing. But, well, maybe it's just me.

But I think the most disappointing things in the anime (specifically despair arc) for me were disappointing plot decisions. Namely, brainwashing.

Yes. I'm comparing the anime to the game again. Because in the game it kinda more like Junko masterfully manipulated them. Like she found a way to get all class 77 on her side by manipulating them and appealing to each of them individually, finding specific ways to influence them. And in the anime they were just forsed to watch a video that brainwashed them into worshiping despair. Because the ultimate talents are superpowers and can hypnotize people apparently.

I think that this might've been done to make the production of the anime cheaper and faster, because then there's no need think and show how Junko targets individual weaknesses and knows exactly how to make people bend to her will. From the production point of view it was probably easier to go with the despair video plot. But still, to me it was just disapointing. It would've been so cool to closely and efficiently see Junko's abilities to analize people to use their weaknesses against them.

Another thing I want to mention is something about Ryota and his arc. The problem that I have with Ryota's arc resolution is that one of his main points to Makoto was that "normal" people, who are not "special" like him, can't stand a chance. Those great tragedies and disasters are more powerful than them. And the first person I thought could've get through to him would've been Hajime. He could've made the point about how he's literally a regular person. He's not a hero. He doesn't even have talent. And yet he still pushed through and proved to himself and to his friends that things can get better. And they can get better too. They can rip their futute out of despair's claws and make their own choices.

And also that Hajime knows more than anyone that trying to create artificial hope is a really bad idea. That playing god is also a recipe for a disaster. Hajime experienced those things first hand, so he should've been able to convince Ryota to stop.

That's what I expected to happen. But instead everyone basically just told Mitarai that they all fucked up and did awful things, so he shouldn't just blame himself, and that everything will be okay. Of course I'm simplifying and exaggerating, but the point still stands. I expected more emphasis on how normal weak people still have hope. And more point on how people already tried to create artificial hope and that ended in disaster. That final confrontation with Ryota was fine but it just could've been much better.

And that's why I'm so salty and why this post is so unbearably long, and I'm just complaining and complaining. It's because this anime could've been really good! There were very interesing concepts and plot hooks that could've been used. But the potential wasn't used, and instead we got a bunch of weird scenes and plot decisions and a quick brainwashing with the video.

Also I found the ending kinda weird. Like, how everyone is celebrating their victory like everything is finally over. But is it really? The most stressful part of rescuing the people trapped in a Future Foundation office and stopping Mitarai from broadcasting the video is over. But those were the personal conflicts of that group of characters. Most people didn't even know about those things happening and the danger that threatened them. The Future Foundation still has a lot of work. The consecuences of the Tragedy are still in play, are they not? Am I just nitpicking? Or did I miss some bit of dialogue, where they say the world is already healing fine on it's own? Like, genuinely, did I miss it?

And the very last thing that I'll complain is rebuilding of a new Hopes Peak Academy. Sigh. Makoto, baby, why on earth you decided that this would be a good idea. Haven't you learn anything. Didn't you realise that the whole concept of separating people to "talented" and "not talented" is really bad. Don't you think people would not be very happy about recreation of a school that literally started an apocalypse.

I didn't even pay much attention to this when I was watching the first time, but after I saw people pointing this out I was like. Yeah. That really is a terrible decision.

I could complain more about other things, but this post is already long enough and I don't want to just endlessly complain about everything. Hopefully, I didn't forget anything I wanted to mention. I want to finish this on a more positive note, so here's brief summary of the things that I did like.

As I mentioned in the beginning, I kinda liked the future arc. I mostly enjoyed it, it was interesting. The character were also mostly pretty interesing. But Ryota is special. He's the best character in this whole anime. I would kill for him.

And the scene with Mokoto seeing his dead classmates... It's so fucked up, but it's so powerful. He's been through a lot. And I'm glad that the consequences of this are acknowledged. And yet, even after all this he still tries to stay positive and kind. God, I love Makoto...

It was also nice to see a little bit of a normal life in Hopes Peak. To just see the kids goofing around without the immediate threat of death and suspicions. But it was equally cool to see Hopes Peak darker side. Especially things with the reserve course.

Also, while I kinda prefer Chiaki to be just an AI created by Chihiro, still, real person Chiaki is also nice, I like her.

Anyway, thank you for your ask! I was taking way too long to answer, but I hope my long rant was kinda interesting😅

[thatkpophoelife]

Jealousy

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem. Reader (ft. Taehyung and NCT Jaehyung)

RATING: Mature 18+

GENRE: NonIdol Au. Highschool Au. Smut. Fluff 

WC: 8K

SUMMARY: You and Jungkook have been best friends since the beginning of time. You spent every waking moment together until one night your at a party and the feelings you have been trying to keep inside decide they want to erupt and make your life harder than you ever could have expected. 

WARNINGS: Swearing. under aged drinking. Big dick Jungkook. Oral (Fem. Rec.) Nipple Play. Fingering (Fem. Rec.) Multiple Orgasms. Cream Pie. Unprotected Sex. Slight Daddy Kink. Slight degradation (hardly mentioned). Thigh Ridding. 

A/N: I’m so happy I’m finally done with it. I am so happy with the result. I have been working hard for the last few days getting this ready to post so sorry if anything is spelt wrong or doesn’t make sense. ENJOY! 

You and Jungkook have been best friends since the first grade. It all started when you fell off the monkey bars during recess. Your palms and knees were bloody and scraped. The cement was rough against your skin and you could see those small little rocks in the small cuts on your hands. As a little kid they seemed way worse than they really were. You were scared you would need to go to the doctors for stiches and then they would need to give you a shot. You were like 7, things like that terrified you.

When you looked up through your watery eyes, you could see a little boy with cute cheeks, deep brown eyes, and bangs. You looked back down at the ground and wiped off your cheeks and nose. When you looked back up you saw the same boy but with his hand out for you to grab. You reached out to grab it and he pulled you up with a huge grin and a huff.

“I’m Jungkook but my friends call me Kookie.”

“I'm Y/N. Thanks for helping me up Jungkook.” You though it had a nice ring to it.

“No problem. I have a band aid in my pocket, you can have it”

“Really? Thanks.” When he handed you the band aid you couldn’t help but notice it had a small picture of Woody from Toy Story on it.

In the days that went by, you two hung out nonstop. He told you almost everything that you could learn about a 7-year-old. You learned his birthday was September 1st, he has an older brother named SeokJin that everyone calls Jin, he likes pizza, and loves soccer. You knew other things of course, but those were just some of the basics.

You became best friends extremely fast and spent most of your summer together. You went to the beach more than once a week. Your parents became friends with his parents and there was no going back on this friendship now. You did develop a teensy tiny basically non-existent crush on Jin but it quickly went away when Jungkook called you out on it and asked you to never see his brother in that light again. You agreed because even though you were only now 8, you still had your priorities and Jungkook was in the top 3.  

By the time second grade came around he asked you, aka forced you, into joining his soccer team so you could “spend more time together.” You whined for the entire first practice. Since your mom was excited to finally see you doing a sport, she put your hair up in pigtails and bought you neon pink knee socks with a just as neon yellow visor. You were not happy. When you got to the field you felt out of place and like everyone was laughing at you. Those worries effected how you played. Just because you never played the sport before doesn’t mean you weren’t somewhat decent at it.

You knew how to dribble kind of well and you had decent aim when trying to make the ball in the net. But your real strong suit was goalie. You were never afraid of the ball or of getting hurt. If you needed to you would gladly dive for the ball if that’s what your team needed to win a game. You were never a girly girl so getting dirt on your knees never bothered you.

Despite all of this you still didn’t want to try out. Your mom was loud and never stopped cheering your name, no matter where you were. You had no other siblings so it’s not like she had anywhere else to be. She had her own small company that way she could create her own schedule and get to go to anything you wanted her to and as far as she knew that was everything. All of your class field trips, sport games, school plays, everything. You were too nervous to tell her otherwise because you didn’t want to hurt her feelings. You know that she only went overboard because she loves you so much but sometimes you wished she loved you a little less. And your dad was always busy with his 9-5 job so he never went to any of your things.

You never stopped playing though. You ended up enjoying the sport more than you could have expected. It was even more enjoyable since you were actually good at it, you always got to be goalie in all of your games. You and Jungkook were actually the star players on your co-ed team. And whenever Jungkook would ask you about why you still played even though you “didn’t like it that much” you always said you liked it enough to continue playing and that you had nothing better to do. You knew deep down that he knew you enjoyed the sport just as much as him, but you also knew he would never call you out on it.  

You won almost all of your games, and you and Jungkook always fought over who deserved the trophy’s. Your argument was that the goalie was a key role to stop the other team from scoring. Jungkook’s was that he made most of the goals to keep your teams score up too high for the other team to ever catch up. It always came to a vote among your teammates, Jungkook always won and you knew it was because most of the girls had a crush on him and wanted him to like them back.

Besides that, nothing exciting happend in your friendship for a while. You spent a lot of time playing soccor in parks and when it was soccor season. You spent all of your summers together and both you’re your guys’ parent let you two get a golden retriever to take care of named Olive the summer before 6th grade. She was staying at Jungkook’s though because it was his idea in the first place. It didn’t mean you never go to see her there. You spent half of your summer there so you saw her a lot.

In your summer of 7th grade Olive got hit by a truck. You were both devasted and Jungkook spent a week at your house. All because Jin forgot to let Olive in at night so she decided to run. Jungkook didn’t talk to Jin for almost a month.

Then in 8th grade a boy named Park Jimin decided to throw a “End of the Summer Almost Freshmen in High-School” party. In reality it was more like ten people that were all in some way shape or form a part of his friend circle. You were invited because they needed another girl to come and Jungkook talked you up so much Jimin had no choice.

The night was all fun and games until his parents went to bed. He quickly grabbed an empty 16-liter Coca-Cola bottle and sat it in the middle of the floor and had everyone gather around in a circle. You were beyond nervous considering you hardly knew any of the boys that were playing and you have never had you first kiss.

A few rounds went by and nothing particularly interesting happened. Jimin kissed some girl named Emily that you didn’t like that much anyways. Then it was Jungkook’s turn. He spun it and you could hear your heart pounding in your ears. It felt as if the bottle was spinning non-stop. Past Emily, past Nichole, past Maddison, past Jimin, past everyone else. Then it stopped, and pointed at you.

You felt your heart speed up. You couldn’t kiss your best friend. It was wrong in so many ways. But the chanting of your names in the background couldn’t go unnoticed. You had no choice but to kiss him. Well, you kind of did but you were hoping that by doing something like this people will start to like you more and not look at you as Jungkook’s best friend. You both sat up and looked each other in the eyes.

Slowly the rest of the world started to silently drift away. You don’t know if it was because everyone around you stopped talking to watch the kiss or because you were to focused on Jungkook and nothing else. His right hand slowly went to up to your caress your cheek while his left hand was on the floor keeping him balanced. You couldn’t help but notice the sparkle in his eyes. The way they traveled from your pupils, to the tip of your nose, and finally landing on your lips. The way his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your cheek leaving a burning sensation wherever it touched. The way he locked eyes with you one last time to make sure he had your permission first.

You noticed that the second you nodded your head giving him permission; he didn’t waste a second to kiss you. The kiss was soft but urgent. Like you both have been waiting for this very moment for so long. Once he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes and gave you a look you would never forget. He smirked.

You couldn’t help but shake your head in absolute confusion and utter disbelief. Did he want that kiss to happen? Did he do that because the guys were watching? You didn’t know. The only thing you knew, was that you’ve had a huge crush on your best friend since the very beginning.

Ever since that day he helped you up from the dirty ground when your hands and knees you scraped and bloody. Ever since he told you it was a good idea to co-own a puppy. Ever since the last day of middle school when you took a selfie jumping with glee. These feelings had been hiding ever since the beginning, and Jungkook’s lips was the only thing to break down the barriers and release those feelings.

You didn’t bother to sit back down in the circle. You wanted to go home, needed to go home. You didn’t want to wake up your parents and ask them to pick you up. You also didn’t want to walk through the door and have them ask why you came home. You knew exactly what to do.

Call Jin.

He answered on about the fourth ring. “Hello?” said the course and tired voice from the other line. You felt bad the second you heard him speak because you knew you woke him up.

“Hey Jin. Umm I was wondering if you could pick me up from the party?” You were prepared to literally beg him to come pick you up.

“Whatever. It’s the same house Kookie’s at, right?” You couldn’t believe you didn’t even need to ask twice.

“That is very correct. I will be ready and waiting outside for you to pull up.”

“Loser. I will be there in 10, don’t make me wait.” You couldn’t help but smile widely while you were getting you stuff together and putting your shoes on.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” You have got to be kidding.

“Hey Jungkook, what are you doing here?”

“What do you mean what am I doing here. I was invited” You can see it written all over his cute little bunny face that he was so confused.

“I- I'm just not feeling too well, I'm going home” You couldn’t help the painfully obvious stutter as you lied to your best friend’s face.

“How, it’s a sleep over? Your mom won’t be thrilled if you called her at 1 o’clock in the morning.”

“I already called someone, and they should be here any minute now so you can go back and enjoy kissing those other girls.” What did you just say? You couldn’t stop the words before they came out. Would that be how he found out you liked him? Is that the sentence that would ruin your friendship? Sometimes you felt so very stupid.

“Okay I will.” With that he walked back to continue the game of spin the bottle with a huge smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but stare, eyes wide and mouth agape. You couldn’t help but wonder if that kiss meant nothing to him. As far as you knew that was his first kiss, and it was most defiantly yours.

As you were lost in your dark cloud of thoughts, your phone dinged making you jump a little. It was Jin texting you that he was already there to pick you up. If you were honest, you weren’t expecting him to be here this fast.

You quickly picked your bag off of the ground, slipped on your black and white checkered Vans, and made your way out the door. When you got to Jin’s car, you quickly threw your stuff in the back and climbed into the passenger seat.

“Where to Y/N?” You could still hear the sleep in his voice and see it in his eyes. He was wearing a simple grey Champion hoodie with black Nike joggers. His hair was all messy from sleeping and the moon perfectly aligned his features. You couldn’t lie, Jin was one of the most attractive men you have ever seen, but you prefer guys closer to your age. Plus, you like the younger brother anyway. Hey snap out of it you need to not like your best friend.

“Um, Y/N? Where do you want me to take you because if you don’t speak up, I will take you straight home.”

“Oh, sorry. Can I just crash at your guys’ place? I know Kookie’s not there but I don’t want my parents asking questions and to yell at me for waking you up.” Yes, you were playing the, ‘please don’t rat me out’ card. But you weren’t lying to him so what’s the problem?

“Sure, just sleep in Kook’s bed. You tend to snore sometimes.” He reached over to ruffle your hair with a huge grin on his face

“Hey! I do not snore!” You felt like a 5-year-old throwing a fit with the way you pouted out your bottom lip, crossed your arms over your chest, and sank into the seat.

“Whatever dork. Why do you want to leave early anyways? Did something happen?” You could tell he was genuinely concerned, and he was crazy good at keeping secrets so what was the harm in telling him about your mild crush on his little brother.

“At the party after Jimin’s parents went to sleep we all played spin the bottle and when it was Kookie’s turn I suddenly was really really nervous it would land on one of the other girls and I didn’t know why but then it landed on me and we kissed and now I think I have a moderately huge crush on him that I never realized I had before and I'm kind of freaking out. Don’t tell anybody though please,” You finally took a breath after your long and wordy run on sentence.

“You’re just now realizing?” Jin had a huge smile on his face and was laughing but you had no idea why.

“What do you mean ‘you’re just now realizing?’” You had no idea what he was talking about.

“Y/N you and Jungkook obviously have had huge crushes on each other for like ever. He admitted his to me a while ago.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing and you knew you would ask Jungkook about it the next time you saw him.

“Can you just take me to your place. It’s late and I'm tired,” After your friendly reminder Jin drove off to his house so you could sleep. He didn’t poke and prod at it any more and you were grateful. Jin was the older brother you never had and you were the little sister he always wanted.

When you woke up Jungkook was already there. You told him about how Jungkook told him that he had a crush on you. Jungkook shot you down almost immediately saying it was just a way to attempt to humiliate him. You felt hurt. Your best friend of years and your huge crush basically said it would be humiliating to have a crush on you. Lucky for you, you left very shortly after and spent your weekend preparing for your first year of high school and getting over your crush on Jungkook. Mostly.

****

Your freshman year was chaotic. You and Jungkook had only a few classes together so you almost drifted apart. It didn’t help that ever since the party Jungkook seemed to be hiding something from you. Something big. The only thing that kept you close was soccor and Jin. But after first semester Jungkook started hanging out with seniors and going to parties. You asked to go once, thinking that he would stay by your side and not let you be taken away by some guy you didn’t know. That wasn’t the case.

Once you entered through the doors Jungkook quickly left your side and got drunk. You caught him in a corner making out with a girl you had never seen before. Then you watched as he pulled her away to a room. Your curiosity got the best of you and you followed close behind. After a minute of them being alone in a room you began hearing moans. You were destroyed.

You quickly made your way to the door so you could go back home, when you ran into a very beautiful man. He couldn’t have been much older than you. He had beautiful chestnut hair and two beautiful dimples. You didn’t even bother asking for his name once you saw the mischievous glint in his eye. You let him lead you to a room, know what was going to happen.

That was how you lost your virginity. It wasn’t special liked you hoped it was going to be. You later learned his name was Jaehyun. It didn’t matter because you didn’t plan on talking to him again. Neither of you wanted anything more than sex that night.

You and Jungkook got into a fight one night. You don’t know what happened to start the fight. All you remember is that it ended with both of you in tears and him hugging you like he never wanted to let go. You made up and everything that happened before that was forgotten. Mostly.

You spent the rest of your school years studying hard and getting through all of your actual difficult classes so the only non-elective class you were taking senior year was your English class. Which you had with Jungkook, of course. You spent your summers with him and you both made it into varsity soccor. He knew the truth about your love for soccor when he heard you talking to your mom about it.

You still hadn’t had a boyfriend yet in your sophomore year. You were just too busy with school to actually try to get a dude’s attention, and you said your junior year was going to be different. You would meet a guy, get Jungkook’s approval, fall in love, have the ‘break up talk’ when you sign up for college, and most likely do just that, break up. The only key problem is that whenever you were walking in the halls and saw a cute guy Jungkook would always say he was a dick and that he doesn’t know how to treat a woman. You tended not to ask questions.

But now you were standing in front of your full-length body mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles in your outfit and occasionally touching up your make up or hair. Your first day of senior year outfit was simple but was sure to turn heads. You opted for a tight-fitted white crop top that showed your cleavage, skinny ripped jeans that hugged your ass perfectly that also had a rip under your left ass cheek, and your black heeled Timberland’s. Your hair was perfectly curled and your makeup looked flawless. You asked Jungkook to bring one of his black leather jackets for you to wear over everything. Damn you looked good.

Just as you were shaking out any last nervous jitters you heard a honk, indicating that your best friend was here to pick you up. You quickly grabbed your bag, ran down stairs, and grabbed two slices of toast for breakfast. Saying by to your parents you turned the nob of the door handle and ran out towards Jungkook’s car. As you opened the door to his red convertible, he looked at you and his jaw dropped. You missed the way his eyes scanned your figure and he darted out his tongue to wet his lips. He was eating you up in his mind, hoping you didn’t notice.

“Hey Kookie, do you have the jacket I asked for?” You handed him a piece of toast as your put on your seatbelt, shaking him out of his trance as he gave you said jacket.

“Ready for our first day? You’re going to be turning heads in that outfit,” You missed the way his eyes snuck a glance at your cleavage before driving off.

“I know right. I’ve been single all of high school so far and this year I want that to change.” You had a huge smile plastered across your face as you spoke. “I like your outfit by the way, it’s nice.” He was wearing black skinny jeans, black doc martins, a black tee, and a black faux leather jacket. And because of Jungkook’s new found passion of working out his thighs looked incredible.

“Thanks. Are we still going out to lunch so we don’t need to eat cafeteria food?”

“Duh, what else, and chew with your mouth closed you look like a 7-year-old.” You rolled your eyes and Jungkook did not miss the small and simple gesture.  

“Hey! You’re the one who became friends with this 7-year-old.”

“That’s not fair you were an angel sent from heaven, my savior. Now you’re just a jack-ass.

“I know you love me.”

“Jungkook what would you know. At first you thought that 7x7 was 64.”

“Oh my god woman will you just drop that I was in 3rd grade.” You both just laughed at each other’s silly antics from when you were younger until you pulled into the school’s parking lot. The second you stood up and walked over to walk in with your best friend, every one stopped and stared. It felt like one of those dramatic movie scenes where the wind is blowing and everything turns into slow motion while you hear the main characters internal monolog.

“Why is everyone staring at us, is something in my teeth? Did my makeup smudge?” You pulled at the side of his jacket making him lean down so you could whisper in his ear. Just because you were walking in 4-inch heels did not make you as tall as him.

“No dummy. We look like the ultimate power couple right now. The hottest girl and guy in school, of course they’re staring.” You were so busy nodding your head and looking at other people that you didn’t catch the way his eyes fell to the curve of your ass.

You walked into school going to your respectable homerooms, then meeting up in the hall to go to your shared English class. You noticed that the popular girls kept trying to befriend you. You knew it was because you were now a threat and they did not want you to be prom queen. Last year you weren’t but guess who was, Emily. You still didn’t like each other. You don’t know why you didn’t get along but it’s not like you wanted to be her friend or something.

You and Jungkook sat down next to each other talking about how weird the day had been. People were still staring but who could blame them, you both had huge summer glow ups.

When you looked up at the clock hanging above the door, you notice a boy you’ve never seen before. He was incredibly attractive and had a beautiful symmetric face. You felt like you were drooling while you stared at him. Then he looked over at you and smiled. How the hell does a man’s smile look like that. You finally met the man that would actually rival Jungkook’s own good looks.

“Hey can I sit here?” You jumped when he asked the question, not expecting his voice to also sound hot.

“Yeah, Y/N by the way.” You held out your hand for him to take, but instead of shaking it he placed an opened mouth kissed on your knuckles. Wow he was hot. It made your thighs clench. Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung, it’s nice to meet you Y/N.” You were so entranced by this new boy’s handsome good looks you didn’t see the terrifying daggers Jungkook was sending his way. He read him like a book. He would lead a girl on, take her innocence, and then leave her out to dry.

Jungkook didn’t just guess this either, he had Taehyung’s snapchat and snapped him one summer after he saw him at a party. Taehyung had told Jungkook his tactics, and Jungkook even went to his house where he witnessed him use those very tactics.

“There’s a party at my house Saturday night around 10 pm, if you give me your number, I can text you the details and you can come.” You turned to Jungkook giving him hopeful eyes until he sighed and nodded. After all you don’t go to a party without your best friend.

“As long as Jungkook, my best friend since 1st grade might I add, can come with.” You weren’t going without him and that was that. Taehyung agreed without hesitation and you gave him your number. You quickly regretted it though because once he opened his mouth you lost interest extremely quickly.

All he could seem to talk about was all of the girls he’s hooked up with and how he could get any girl he wanted. You knew what he was trying to get at and became bored very fast. You were actually extremely grateful when the class started.

You and Jungkook passed notes the entire time, all about the egotistical boy next to you. And even though you didn’t like him, you would go to his party because you wanted to actually live a little your senior year. But sadly, one potential future boyfriend was out the door and you were back at square one.

The rest of the week passed by fast and because you had mostly easy elective classes you had no homework over the weekend for the first time in years. Which meant you had all sorts of time to party. You texted Jungkook to pick you up at around 9 so you would have time to get ready but still be at the party in time.

****

You woke up around noon on Saturday from your alarm. You didn't wake up because you wanted to but because you didn’t want to ruin the sleep schedule you didn’t even have. Why did you wake up again? Anyways once you woke up from you slumber you texted Jungkook to clear up some last-minute details.

 Y/N

are you up yet? I just woke up. why dont I wake up like disney princesses?? I look like a monster :(

Kookie

Disney princesses are pretty thats why you don’t look like them in the morning or ever for that matter

Y/N

stfu your no prince charming either

Kookie

Really? Then why would almost every girl in our school blow me???

Y/N

If thats the case then why don’t you get some so you can stop complaining to me about how horny you always are??

Kookie

Because I have my right eye some one

Y/N

WHO?!?! and why havent I heard about this until now?? and why just your right eye??

Kookie

Because not EVERYTHING is your business smartypants and dont talk about my left eye

Y/N

whatever I will find out about this mystery girl though… MARK MY WORDS!! YOULL BE JUNGSHOOK

Kookie

Whatever you say smartypants whyd you text me anyways?

Y/N

Right! your still picking me up, RIGHT?!

Kookie

Its you’re, but yes I'm still picking you up

Y/N

Good, I will be ready in 3-4 hours :)

Kookie

You do know the party is at like 10 right

Y/N

THEN JUST PICK ME UP AT 10 GOD DAMNIT

Kookie

Not how you spell dammit but alright

Y/N

Stfu english nerd and good bye until 10

 With that your conversation with Jungkook ended and you started to binge watch Haikyu!! until around 6. Then you rolled out of bed and started getting ready. You got into the shower, shaving everything. You didn’t know what was going to happen tonight so you figured you would be extra prepared. You even used your exfoliator, if you anyone got to touch you, they would be lucky.

Then you did your hair. You curled it perfectly and then put it in a high pony tail. Perfect party hair in your opinion. Then you did your makeup making sure to keep it simple yet amazing. You opted for a winged liner, perfectly done brows, and dark red lipstick. Lastly was your outfit. Your room was a complete mess after you threw half of your closet onto the floor but your pretty sure you found a great outfit.

You put on your matching set of black lacy lingerie that made your ass look good and your boobs even better. You than grabbed a different white crop top with a dangerously low cut making your black lace peak out from the sides and small booty shorts that barely covered your ass. Then you grabbed the same leather jacket you wore on your first day of school and put on a pair of sneakers. You went to that party with Jungkook once so you knew how crazy and disgusting the ground could be.

By the time you were completely done it was already 8:47. You didn’t think it would take quite that long to get ready but at the same time you did. You were touching up your makeup when Jungkook texted you he was waiting. You didn’t tell your parents about the fact that you were going to a party and they knew that if they saw you dressed the way you were, they would flip. So like any other teen, you made plans to sneak out.

The only person you to actually worry about catching you was your dad because you knew if your mom caught you, she would laugh at you and tell you to have fun. Your dad on the other hand not so much.

Jungkook parked a block down from your house and turned off his car headlights so he wouldn’t be as noticeable. You opened your window as quietly was possible and began to scale your wall. Thankful that your bedroom window was the one closest to the gutter and that you chose sneakers as your shoes. Once you hit the ground safely, you bolted for Jungkook’s car and got in as fast as you could.

“Hey cutie,” Jungkook said wiggling his eyebrows. Luckily for him, his car lights were off so you didn’t catch him gaping at your breasts.

“Sup, you ready to party?” You asked as he turned on the car and started to drive where the GPS told him.

“Yes, now remember no sleeping with some random dude and no drugs”

“Same to you mister”

“Ok so if you want to stay out late text your mom and ask if you can spend the night at my house because my parents are out of town and Jin is going to this food thing with his friends for like three days.” Jungkook said as he merged into traffic.

“Good idea,” You pulled out your phone and texted your mom knowing she would understand much better than your father. “She said that’s fine”.

“Good so if you get hung over you don’t need to try and explain it to your mom,” Damn was Jungkook always this smart, and did he always look this good.

After driving the rest of the way, you pulled into Taehyung’s house and you were awestruck. It was huge and surrounded by hedges. You couldn’t see another house within a mile which was good because that means the cops won’t be called because of noise complaints.

You stepped out of Jungkook’s car and walked into Taehyung’s house immediately being greeted with the smell of alcohol and weed. You quickly got separated from Jungkook and made your way to the kitchen to fill a red solo cup half full with some beer you found and apple juice. You slammed it down, wincing as it made its way down your throat. It wasn’t the best tasting but it was better than the beer by itself.

Once you were done making yourself the same drink again, you made your way outside and found a huge pool with a jacuzzi right by it. You scanned the area, seeing a couple making out in the pool and three boys you didn’t quite recognize playing around in the pool. As you continued looking around taking another sip of your drink you noticed something strange. Standing next to the pool was Jungkook and Emily.

She was twirling her hair in her fingers and giggling while Jungkook looked her up and down smirking the entire time.

You know you’ve been telling Jungkook to get a girlfriend for years now, but you thought he knew you were just joking. For some odd reason you were upset. You didn’t know why at first. Maybe because you didn’t like Emily, maybe because you didn’t want Emily to steal him away from you. You were Jealous. You hated when it hit you like a pile of bricks. But you definitely  intended on doing something about it.

You quickly downed the rest of your drink in your red solo cup hoping it would give you more courage, and made your way over to them.

“Hey Jungkook I need to talk to y-,” You were walking towards him and before you knew it you were falling into the pool. Your first thought was that you tripped but when you resurfaced from the water you saw Emily looking at you with a sly grin. All you could do was glare.

“Oops,” Emily snickered as she grabbed out her phone and took several pictures of you. Great now your hot ass makeup and hair was completely ruined. Shit you’re wearing a WHITE shirt and BLACK bra that are now wet. You looked down to confirm it and sure enough your shirt was more than see-through. AND Jungkook’s leather jacket was ruined. At least you wore sneakers.

“What the fuck Emily,” You were startled from your stare down with the girl when you heard Jungkook’s low voice. It was loud and honestly kind of turned you on. Wait you shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend like that. You shook the thought out of your head and looked up at Jungkook. His fists were balled up at his sides and his jaw was clenched. He looked fine as hell.

As you slowly made your way to the side of the pool, he took off his leather jacket and knelt down. Once you got to the side he reached down with both arms, inserted his hands under your armpits, and hoisted you out of the water. He then helped you take off his ruined leather jacket and threw it at Emily. “Happy now?” He then took his perfectly fine leather jacket and draped it over your shoulders instructing you to hold it closed. “Come on let’s go get you cleaned up.” He bent down and whispered it into your ear causing shivers to go down your spin. You could only nod in response.

As he led you towards the doors of the house, he yanked his jacket from Emily’s hand and gave her one of the scariest looks you’ve ever seen. All you did was smirk and stick your tongue out at her like a 5-year-old. You were very satisfied.

He led you through the crowd of people dancing and grinding on each other like they weren’t in a public setting. He then led you to what you assumed was going to be a bathroom but ended up being a bedroom. You couldn’t help but wonder how he knew his way around so well.

When you entered the room, you realized it was huge with a bathroom connected to it. “Why did you take me here instead of a normal bathroom?” You asked.

“Because most likely they are occupied by other people and I don’t really want to walk in on some other couple having sex. Especially when I'm with you.” What was that supposed to mean? “And before you ask how I know my way around, I used to be sort of friends with Tae. I only came here once when he tried hooking me up with some random chick and I guessed I just remembered my way around.” He was so honest so easily.

“Did you do anything with the chick?” You felt stupid the moment you asked.

“What?” You don’t know if he didn’t hear you or what but you still asked again.

“Did you do anything with her, the girl he tried hooking you up with?” You felt pathetic.

“I told you have my right eye on someone else.” He said leading you into the bathroom.

“Who is this lucky girl anyways?” You asked sitting on the sink countertop while you took off Jungkook’s jacket.

He paused, “Let’s just say, I played a game of spin the bottle at Jimin’s house before freshman year started. I kissed her. She was the only person I kissed that night. I realized that I had a massive crush on her but she left and felt hella crushed. I stopped playing and couldn’t help but feel like I was losing her forever. But I still spend all of my spare time with her and I couldn’t ask for a better best friend. Deep down I’m afraid that she will never like me back because of the girls I slept with freshman year but I want her to know that I only did that to try and convince myself that it I wasn’t in love with her. After I found out she slept with some random guy one night at a party that I took her to I came to my senses and let myself love her. I still regret the night I took her to that party because I wish I was the one to get to take her innocence away.”

You looked at him, you mouth agape, “oh” You knew he was talking about you.

You watched his eyes dart down to your lips as his tongue poked out lick his. His hands drifted down and grabbed your waist softly, just in case you wanted to stop him. He slowly leaned down, brushing your hair behind your ear and whispering in a deep raspy tone that made your panties wet, “You can stop me at any time”.

Within moments his soft, plush lips were on yours. Your hands made their way up his back and intertwined into his black curly locks, tugging harshly. Jungkook let out a low groan that made your body hot. One of his hands crept up and lightly brushed against your nipple making you gasp into the kiss. Jungkook didn’t waste any time and immediately his tongue was exploring your mouth.

Once you broke the kiss, gasping for air, Jungkook placed his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up, causing goosebumps to emit across your body. He carried you out of the bathroom, throwing you on the bed. You watched as he took off his shirt and crawled over you. You’ve seen him shirtless many times but this time it was different. You happy felt up his chest and you didn’t have to worry about him questioning you because he was kneeling over you, devouring you with his eyes.

Before you knew it, he was trying to take your shirt off. You gladly assisted him, pulling off your bra along with it. Once it was off and you looked up at him, you felt shy. Jungkook was just staring at your chest and wasn’t saying anything.

“Do you need to make it obvious that you don’t like my boobs?” Your hands went up to cover yourself. You were always insecure about them.

“Your right Y/N I don’t like your boobs; I fucking love them,” He quickly moved your hands away and leaned down. His mouth connected with your nipple, his tongue making your back arch into him. You felt yourself growing wetter by the second. His teeth gently grazed your nipple and you let out a loud whimper. You really hoped your great-grandma wasn’t watching you right now.

He left of your nipple with a pop and kissed his way to your other, leaving small hickeys marking his path. He did the same things to this one. You couldn’t wait anymore and moved your hand down to your core. You needed some sort of friction, but Jungkook’s hand stopped you.

“Ungrateful slut. I’m giving you all of this pleasure and you can’t wait. I want you to ride my thigh and maybe if I like what I see I’ll let you finish more than once tonight,” You looked at him in awe. When the fuck did he learn to talk like that. It was hot as hell but still.

He went and sat on the edge of the bed and looked at you. You werent sure what to do, so he pulled you onto his thigh. You froze up right away. You were straddling his thigh too afraid to do anything. He looked you dead in the eyes as his hands went down to your waist, forcing you to move. Relief flooded you. You were so happy that he finally let you have some sort of friction.

Your hands went to rest on his shoulders so it was easier to hold yourself up. You quickly started doing all of the work. Moving yourself at a fast pace on Jungkook’s thigh. You could feel his hard through his pants and it only made you more needy. He continuously clenched his thigh making you come undone even faster.

“Oh my god Jungkook. I think I'm gonna- I'm gonna cu-,” You let out shaky breath feeling that familiar knot build up in your stomach. Right as you were about to snap Jungkook stopped your hips from moving.

“Did you really think I was going to let you cum already? Go lay down.” You obeyed him quickly, watching as he kneeled down at the end of the bed. He grabbed your pants and with one swift motion slid them off, throwing them somewhere else in the room.

“Fuck Y/N. You’re so wet. I can’t wait to taste you. This good little pussy” He ripped your panties off of you, eliciting a loud groan. You were becoming impatient, squirming in front of him. He used his hand to hold your hips in place, while his other went to rub delicate circles on your clit. You watched as his face dove into you. Licking a stripe up your folds, collecting all of your juices.

“Fuck Y/N. You taste so good.” He groaned out, quickly diving back in. His eyes were blown out in hunger. He moved his hand away from your clit and replaced it with his tongue. Sliding one finger in you, moving at a slow pace and curling it, reaching your g-spot. A loud moan escaped you as you started trying to rock your hips against his face. Interlacing your fingers in his locks.

He pulled away to take a breath, “Do you think you can handle to fingers? Gotta prepare my baby for later. Yeah? I'm gonna stretch you out so good. Gonna destroy this pussy.” With that he inserted a second finger into you, reattacking your clit with his tongue. His pace kept intensifying. You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach build.

“Fuck Jungkook. I'm gonna-,” your words turned into a drawn-out moan when he hummed against your clit.

“Cum for me baby.” At that, the knot it your stomach snapped and relief washed over your body. You tried closing your legs but Jungkook held them open.

Once he was done lapping up all of your juices, he moved up and kissed you, hard. You could taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands made their way down to undo Jungkook’s pants. He broke away from the kiss and stood up, pulling his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

You stared at his member for a second in awe. You knew he was big, but no that big. The tip was an angry red and you could see the veins. You were growing wetter just thinking about the delicious stretch.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said “I'm gonna have to go in raw.”

You smiled up at him, bucking your hips up towards his hard to get some sort of friction. “I'm on birth control.” That was all you needed to say before he slowly started entering you. The stretch being uncomfortable.

“You okay?” He asked worry on his face. You shook your head, “It’s just, new.”

He smiled, “Just tell me when you’re ready.”

After a moment you shook your head, giving him the okay to start moving again. He slowly pulled out all the way before pushing in again, hitting your g-spot as he did. You could feel the veins on his cock, and your legs wrapped around his small waist as your hands wrapped around his neck.

He slowly started to pick up the pace, pulling out all of the way before pushing back in. It wasn’t long before the pain morphed into pleasure. Moans spilling from your lips. The louder you moaned the faster he went.

“Ha-harder, da-daddy,” you didn’t mean to say it, but when you did his head snapped up.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me.” He starting snapping his hips into yours. You could hear the head board hitting the wall with each thrust but you didn’t mind at all. All you felt was bliss.

“Da-addy I-I'm gonna c-cum.” Your walls started clenching around him.

“Fuck baby, cum. Cum for daddy” With that you did. Your release hit you hard. Your legs shaking as you dug your nails into his back piercing a few layers of his skin. Moaning out his name.

Even after you came, he kept pounding into you, chasing his own high. Beautiful moans escaping his lips as he did. Your moans making him close. His body was coated in a layer of sweat.

“Cum in me daddy. Please. Fill me up.” You choked out as he relentlessly pounded into you.

“Fuck, I'm going to cum.” You tightened around him one last time, feeling as his seed shot into you. You both laid there for a moment. Neither one wanting to leave. You could feel your mixed juicing seeping out of your whole as he began to soften inside you.

He slowly pulled out of you, “You need to go to the bathroom.” He picked you up bridal style from the bed and walked you over to the bathroom. Setting you down on the toilet so you could pee. When you were done, he picked you up and set you on the counter, taking a warm rag and cleaning you off making you sigh at the pleasant feeling. He carried you back to the bed and laid you down, getting into his boxers.

He laid down next to you and covered you both with the blanket, before wrapping his arm around tightly around your waist. His chin on your head as he cuddled you. It wasn’t long before you both drifted off to sleep

****

When you woke up and saw your best friend next to you, sleeping peacefully, you were relieved. Relieved that it wasn’t a dream and relieved that he didn’t up and leave in the middle of the night to leave because he regretted it. You leaned over and draped your arm over his torso and snuggled up to him, resting you head on his arm. He groaned, making you halt your actions.

“Good morning beautiful.” He said with a smile, kissing you on the top of your head.

You smiled happy it was him you woke up next to, “Morning.”

****

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. :) Send any ideas you have for anything. P.S The gif wouldn’t load :( so sorry about that. 

[angsty-omi]

second best.

tanaka ryūnosuke x reader; tanaka ryūnosuke x kyoko shimizu

genre: angst, heartbreak, cheating

word count: 1.5k

cw: insecurity

She was beautiful. Her silky black hair, perfect nose, nicely framed glasses, and a cute mole on her chin. Anyone could see it, every volleyball team in the tri-state area attempted to get her number. Kiyoko Shimuzu was her name, and you could not help but see the way your boyfriend looks at her.

The three of you went to school together, since primary. A trio, one would call it ever since the third grade. At recess, kids would say, “It’s no surprise that Y/N, Kiyoko, and Tanaka are all partnered together.” and during a specific game of soccer, you accidentally tripped over the ball and skid your knee. You bit your lip hard, trying not to cry in front of everyone. Your eyes were watery, at the fact that your knee hurt like hell and now everyone was staring at you. To your surprise, Tanaka ran over to you to help you up and guide you to the clinic. When you got there, the nurse sat you down and poured alcohol onto cotton balls. Tanaka offered his hand, and you gripped it lightly, with a slight shade of pink on your cheeks. It was a cute moment until the nurse dabbed onto your joint. Then, you tightly squeezed Tanaka’s hand and screamed some very colorful words. That night, your mom scolded you and sent you straight to your room. While you lay on your bed, you could not help but smile at the event that happened that afternoon. This was the start of your attraction towards Tanaka Ryūnosuke.

When you got to middle school, puberty started to hit you like a truck. The rapid growth of hormones made your face acne-infested. While everyone told you it was normal, you could not help but question why does Kiyoko’s face not look like this then? Her skin was clear and had a nice dew to it. The amount of money spent on drug store products could buy you a whole store. Acne was inevitable, already eating at your brain, and planting their seed called insecurity. Tanaka would always call Kiyoko terms like, ‘gorgeous’ and ‘goddess’ while you had what- ‘funny’? The summer going into high school, you decided to get medical help. Immediately, you were put on accutane. You did not want to see anyone during that whole summer, especially Tanaka. Accutane made your face very dry, crackled, and forced you to put on chapstick every minute. Locking yourself into your room all summer, made you lonely.

Sometimes, you could hear Tanaka and Kiyoko walk by your house and hear them say, “Has Y/N ever responded to your texts? It’s like she’s a ghost.” Tanaka asked.

“Nope, she hasn’t even answered to get our nails done, she must seriously be ghosting us,” Kiyoko responded.

You tear up at the guilt of ignoring your closest friends, but it’s hard when you’re in love with one of them and envious of the other. You did not want your toxic mindset upheld against them, so you justified that it was just for the best.

When fall came around, it was back to school. Your first year. The Accutane, though traumatizing, worked. In addition, being trapped in your room all day introduced you to makeup. Looking in the mirror, you actually started to like what you saw in the mirror. You’ve learned self-care and it paid off. Scanning the sheets on the wall, it looked like Tanaka was in your class and Kiyoko was in the honors one.

“Class 2-B” you read aloud to yourself and sat down at a desk. You left the one seat open next to you, just for Tanaka. When you saw him walk in, your heart skipped a beat. He looked different, in a good way. His hair was shaved, taller, and looked more mature. When you waved over to him, he just glared at you and sat at the seat farthest from you. This made your heart drop. Why was he acting like this? Did I do something? Does he not want to be my friend anymore? Questions rambling in your head. During lunch, you headed over to his desk and pulled the chair behind you to sit down. He just stared at you intently, furrowing his brows signifying anger.

“Ryo-channn, look what I brought,” you gleefully rang, knowing that he would never in a million years refuse your mom’s onigiris. When you took out your bento, you grabbed the onigiri with your hand and put it near his mouth. Still looking at you angrily, he took a bite from the onigiri in your hand and looked away from you.

“What’s wrong?” you worried. He did not respond, so you asked again. “You can’t just act like I don’t exist Ryo, especially if you’re eating from my invisible hand.”

“That’s funny, me acting like YOU don’t exist when you ghosted me for three months? I thought we were best friends, Y/N.” Now, you finally understood why he was so upset. Before you could speak up, there was a knock at the entrance, “Ryo, want to grab lunch together?” Kiyoko said in a monotone voice. It seems that Kiyoko too was also mad at you. You could not help it though, you and Kiyoko were basically sisters up until that summer. “Yeah, let me grab my stuff,” Ryo picked up all his belongings and left you in the dust.

That day, you waited for both of them after practice. Kiyoko was a manager and Tanaka was on the team. Two birds, one stone. When they walked out together, they both saw you. Murmuring to each other. You took a deep breath, “Listen, I’m sorry for not texting you guys back and not spending time with you during the summer. I-it’s just that I felt so i-insecure with myself, I didn’t want to bring you guys down with me y’know?” Tears started welling up in your eyes, you continued, “I would hear you guys talk about me when you passed by my house, and it took everything I had to not just run out and hug you guys. But, I couldn’t. I hated myself for the longest time and I was scared that you two would start to notice it. So, I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, but you guys needed an explanation.” You sighed and started to turn around and leave. You fell to your feet, with two bodies tackling you down. “G-guys?” your eyes are still watery. Laughter emitted from their voices, “Don’t do it again or else we will kill you,” Kiyoko threatened.

It was the final set, both teams were tied. Yamaguchi was serving and Aoba Johsai hit it back with ease. The rally probably lasted around a minute, but to everyone, it was slowed down. Until, Tanaka passed the ball to Kageyama, and everyone thought he’d set it Hinata. Instead, he setter dumped. The crowd was silent, not realizing what just happened. Karasuno just won the preliminaries. Every student screamed and chanted at them. You and a couple of other people ran down to congratulate. You ran up to Tanaka’s arms and squeezed him. He swung you around joyfully, and you pulled your face back. There was a moment where it felt like it was just the two of you. The adrenaline of winning finally got to you, and you impulsively kissed him. It lasted maybe around a second or two before you finally realized what you were doing. Mortified, you were rambling with apologies.

“Can you please just forget this ever happen-” he cut you off. Warm lips were pressed onto your lips. You were shocked at first but slowly sunk into the kiss. This was the start of your relationship with Tanaka Ryūnosuke.

Kiyoko never spoke about her feelings about her best friends dating. In fact, she hated it. But it was out of character for her to be so opinionated. She could not stand the fact that you guys would cuddle during movie night nor how he would hold your hand during the walk home. She did not necessarily like Tanaka that way, but she did miss the attention he gave her. Who wouldn’t want someone calling you pretty 24/7? And to reject them was a power move. No one would ever know, but he was the reason why her confidence shot up. The confidence to reject handsome men on different teams. All started because of Tanaka. Although, now that he was with you, the flirting stopped. She could feel herself start to become jealous and it started to infect her brain. During practice, Yachi would gush about how cute you and Tanaka were while Kiyoko just had to listen.

“Y/N is too cute,” Yachi cheesed. Kiyoko couldn't take it anymore, “Listen, I am way prettier than Y/N and Tanaka could do much better” it just slipped out. She was surprised at what she just said, and even more surprised that she didn’t even feel an ounce of guilt.

“Like you?” a voice appeared. It was Tanaka. “R-Ryo,” she muttered. “We should talk outside.”

Once they were both outside, Tanaka spoke first.

“You don’t get to do this. You rejected me countless times and now t-that I’m with someone you can’t just profess your feelings for me.” Tanaka hissed.

“I-I know, it’s just- I didn’t realize what I had until I lost it. Imagine how I feel seeing you guys together, the man I love with someone else. Someone who is inferior to me.” Tears welled up in Kiyoko’s eyes.

“Do you even hear yourself right now? Love? Please. You don’t love me. You never will.” He bit his lip sharply.

Silence.

“Then look at me and tell me you don’t love me. Because not once have you said that you didn’t feel the same way, you only said that you were dating Y/N” Kiyoko sobbed.

“You know I can’t do that,” Tanaka whispered. Then, Kiyoko leeched on him, pressing her lips against his. He wasn’t kissing back, but he wasn’t pulling away either. He was conflicted. He was too dazed and decided to just give in.

Little did they both know, there you were watching at the scene. Well, now you were hiding behind a wall, peeking at them, kissing. You could physically hear your heart-shattering. After wiping the nonstop tears flowing on your face, you left.

Grief turned into anger. You threw every picture, gift, and sweater into the trash bag. Your eyes only saw red. Your room was left bare and cold. The bedroom door knocked in a rhythmic beat that only one person did. When he walked in, his eyes gazed at every spot in your room. It was empty.

You looked down at the ground, “I always knew I was second best in your heart.” You whispered, tears threatening your eyes. “What?” His face contorted in a confused stance. “I should’ve seen it coming y’know? But I just thought maybe— maybe he’d pick me.” You continued. He started getting worried, “What’re you talking about?” The fact that he was here, blatantly lying to you, gives you all the answers you needed.

“Please don’t act like that, not with me”

“Act like what?”

“Clueless. Ry-Tanaka,” you corrected yourself. “If you love her, then go for it. But don’t act like you’re still in love with me. It hurts-” Your voice broke mid-sentence.

“It was a mistake,” He pleaded.

“A mistake? No, mistakes happen impulsively. T-This whole thing with Kiyoko was premeditated. All my life, I have been trying to compete with her. Grades, appearances, and even you. And when I had you, I thought, I had won. I won the best prize ever. You. But now-” You dropped to your knees, “I don’t even have you.”

He wiped your tears with his hands, “But you do, you do have me,”

“No, no I don’t,” you denied.

“Yes you do baby, I’m right here. I choose you.”

You were not some decision, you were his girlfriend and yet, he thought that would make you happier. “Nonono, you don’t get it. I don’t want you anymore. These tears aren’t for you, they’re for me. Seeing you kiss Kiyoko? I felt nothing and that scared me. Maybe I wasn’t in love with you, maybe I just wanted to beat Shimizu that bad. Who knows? But, by the looks of it, I did win. I got to you first.” You punctuated every word, prying his hands off your face. Of course, you were lying your ass off. You’ve loved this man ever since that day in recess. Revenge had poisoned your heart though, and you wanted him to feel an ounce of you were feeling.

“We’re done. There I have let you go, now you are free to do anything you want with Kiyoko. Date her or reject her, it’s not my issue anymore.” Tanaka couldn’t even recognize you anymore. Though it was your voice and your physical look, it was like your soul had been drained, and in replacement was someone who was cold and emotionless.

A/N: I’m back! I’ve fixed my writing style so everything is capitalized properly. Requests are greatly appreciated! Just shoot a message. Also, this story was inspired by my drabble and a person actually asked me to write one for Tanaka, so here you go @aestheticno !

likes & repubs are greatly appreciated. :D

[hopeymchope]

Honestly, anon finds these discussions about "which deaths we would swap" to be kind of creepy. It's like we have a god complex, talking about who we think deserves to live and who deserves to die. It's one of anon's biggest pet peeves about the Danganronpa fandom; we talk so much about "who we think should have died" that it's kind of ghoulish. It's like what Gandalf said in Lord of the Rings: many dead people deserve to live, but we can't give life to them, so we shouldn't decide death either.

I think we can drawn a pretty thick line between rewriting scripted, fake deaths and having a morbid, delusional fixation on rewriting the deaths of actual people. At the end of the day, every fictional game or movie or tv or book franchise is still something someone had to write. To start the whole thing off, someone had to just type up a text document and store it on their computer, y'know? Which means that some regular person or people really did decide who was going to live and who was going to die in the story.

In the case of Danganronpa, Kazutaka Kodaka is the "god" who got to determine the course of all these characters' lives for as long as we'd know them. The same is true of any writer. To use an example you referenced: Tolkien had to decide to kill that one child of Denothor (yes I'm seriously going to dance around naming the character just in case it'd spoil LotR for somebody). Then he had to write down the details of how it happened. John Ronald Reuel Tolkien was just some mortal, but he had total control over that fictional reality. Yet I wouldn't fault him for killing a character for dramatic purposes, y'know? When you write fiction, you are ultimately taking those fictional characters you create/adopt and deciding upon the path their lives will take. And you make those decisions based on what's best for the story - not based on whether you like the character or whether it's the most satisfying possible time in their lives.

And none of that is even accounting for the fact that in fictional works, we often want to see or follow very different rules for who lives and dies than anyone would ever want to see apply to reality. For example: Just because you might expect any teenager who drinks alcohol in an old slasher movie to get killed, and you even might write those kinds of deaths if you had to create some kind of '80s throwback horror movie, that doesn't mean you'd EVER wish that kind of thing on real people of ANY age.

So to me, to sit around and talk about how you'd change someone else's written work isn't really any different than writing a fanfic, or from being anyone who writes anything that's made up. It's interesting to note, though, that Shuichi would agree with you on this whole point due to the horrific meaning of "fiction" in his reality. The idea of viewers in the world of V3 contemplating how they would've written a particular season differently? I guess it'd be like if a bunch of Americans sat around together, discussing who they personally would've liked to see escape and/or get killed during that week's most recent mass shooting. ................ And although that sounds pretty fucked up, I'm just realizing that it ALSO sounds like a way of working through that third stage of grief.

Ultimately, I guess what I'm saying is a long-winded way of delivering a simple "Don't take it too seriously, because we all know that nobody is actually getting hurt here; it's just a discussion about writing." But even so, I think it's natural to sometimes find a fictional world that gets you SO invested that the deaths and the drama hit you like a truck. So maybe you're simply trying to say that this kind of thing feels painful to you because of how invested you are? Maybe it just gives you a feeling of the macabre in some loose, undefinable way... and maybe that's just because you care that much. And I'd say: There's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

But if we really had godlike power and the world of DR actually existed in some multiversal sense, I assume most of us would opt to stop all the deaths entirely. We're not psychos. .......Or maybe we wouldn't all choose to stop Junko's or Korekiyo's deaths, because they're essentially serial killers. But you get what I mean.

[kaistarus]

What is Love

Pairings: Hinata X Reader

Words: 1.3K

Summary: Hinata knows nothing about love, but his heart constantly wants to jump out of his chest and his hands can't decide between sweating and shaking so that had to mean something.

Notes: This was literally a short story I wrote for class that I turned into a fic lol hope it worked

Masterlist // Ko-Fi

Hinata knew nothing about love.

He knew a lot about volleyball, but it turned out they didn’t correlate.

He’d been watching Disney movies with Natsu for years though, so he felt like he should have been an expert. Except, his feelings couldn’t be described with a magic carpet ride, dancing in a forest, or even two lions singing with a weird amount of sexual tension. No, being around you felt way more intense than all that.

It felt like his heart constantly wanted to jump out of his chest and his hands couldn’t decide between sweating or shaking so they just did both. There was this weird itch under his skin that wouldn’t go away until you were within reach and the amount of times he’d received a ball with his face because of how often he daydreamed of you was becoming absurd.

He would daydream about touching you a lot, especially while staring at you in class. In the way where he wished he was holding your delicate hands as they rested on your desk. Sometimes he wished he could feel your heartbeat under his fingertips, desperate to know if it ever beat as fast as his when you were together. He even longed to run his fingers through your soft hair, dreaming of laying your head in his lap after a long day of practice and spending your free days together. Doing nothing and everything and just existing together in the same space.

One day he caves and goes to the only two people he can think of for advice.

“You’ve come to the right place,” Noya says, patting him on the back confidently. “If anyone can help you get a girlfriend it’s us.”

“We are the lady experts around here.” Tanaka nods, stroking his chin with a cocky smirk.

Hinata nods while tossing a volleyball between his hands, hoping the distraction will calm the anxious rhythm of his heart. This will be the first time he actually voices any of these issues. “So, how did you guys know you loved Kiyoko?”

Nishinoya’s eyes go wide and his hands shoot up defensively. “Whoa, that’s a big word there buddy. I don’t know about-”

“The moment I saw her.” Tanaka smiles dopily. “I proposed on the spot.”

“You what?” Noya panickedly turns to Hinata. “Don’t do that.”

“But how did you know?” Hinata furrows his brow, frustrated Tanaka’s been hiding such important information.

“I don’t know. She just came into the gym and it’s like everything clicked into place.” Tanaka turned away with a far off look in his eyes.

Hinata and Noya both tilt their heads in confusion. Hinata didn’t understand him at all. Things never made sense when he was around you. If anything you’d thrown his world completely out of whack.

“Did that help?” Noya raises a brow, uncertain now that he understood Hinata’s problem.

Hinata told them it had. Which wasn’t a complete lie he realizes as he biked home over the mountain. He learned that love was something complicated, with more questions than answers, and that he may never get those answers. But he also learned that he kind of doesn’t care if it means he gets to spend more time with you trying to find them.

Once he entered his third year, Hinata’s love for you had become as easy as breathing. The butterflies had dissolved into warm familiarity rather than abrupt nervousness. His chest no longer ached when he thought of you, but he still found it pretty hard to breathe when you smiled at him. He had become familiar with the warmth that enveloped him when your eyes met and fond of the casualness that developed within your gradually built friendship. Sometimes it wasn’t enough, but most of the time it was everything.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, Hinata was pretty easy to read, so only everyone knew he loved you which didn’t matter unless you found out. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to know, but more that he was scared once his feelings were out they’d get annihilated because you were beautiful and intelligent and a million times out of his league. He just wanted to keep you as close as possible for as long as possible.

Sometimes though he lets himself hope. When your eyes linger a little too long during class, when your fingers card through his hair during late night study sessions, or when you open your mouth to say something only to eventually close it and refuse to acknowledge whatever was on the tip of your tongue. It was moments like those that had him imagining what it might be like to kiss you, at least once, or maybe just hold your hand knowing you felt the same way.

There was nothing different planned for tonight. He’s invited you over to ‘study’, but really it was another lame excuse to spend time with you. Usually you’d accuse him of slacking off, which you’d be completely right about but he’d deny, then you’d likely give up trying and play games or watch a movie with him. But tonight you’re completely silent, eyebrows drawn together and lips pressed into a thin line.

“Is something wrong?” He asks, which makes you visibly tense.

“No, it’s just… Yes. Actually, yes..” You say. There isn’t any animosity, but instead you sound… nervous. Which makes him nervous.

“Are you feeling sick?” Hinata asked hesitantly. He needed to fill the air with nervous chatter because confrontation made him uncomfortable.

“Look,” You sighed, looking up exhaustedly at him. “I’m not stupid.”

“Well, duh,” he raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Did someone say you were?”

“No, I just-” You pushed the few books that laid in between you and shuffled closer to him. Hinata’s face lit up a brilliant shade of red when you invaded his personal space. “I’ve been waiting for you to do something Hinata and I--I can’t.”

“Do what?” Hinata tilted his head.

“You seriously can’t be this dense.” You roughly grab both of Hinata’s cheeks in a sort of cradle that sends his heart into a frenzy. He’s itching to place his hands on top of yours, but he balls them up into material of his shorts instead.

“I kind of am, yeah.”

Your eyes scan his face. “You’re looking a little red.”

“My room’s a little hot.”

“It’s winter.”

Hinata can’t cock his head to the side like he wants to because of the hands holding him still. You should know by now Hinata is dense and slow to pick on vague hints. If you want something from him you’ll have to tell him straight out. “(Y/N) I don’t know what’s-”

“Why can't you just tell me how you feel?”

It hits Hinata like a semi-truck and he feels the heat rush to his face. You knew.

“Well,” he stumbles over the right words. Any words. “I just… didn’t think it was important.”

“How is that not-”

Hinata scrambles to cut her off. “I didn’t want to ruin this and make you uncomfortable. I just wanted things to stay… how they are. I thought things would get weird, so I just… didn’t.”

You’re glaring at him and it’s exactly what Hinata didn’t want.

“You’re such an idiot.”

Hinata isn’t given much time to argue before you’re pulling him toward you to seal your lips together.

It’s not great. There aren’t fireworks like every Disney movie promised him. It’s sloppy, wet, and teeth where Hinata assumes teeth shouldn’t be used. It’s honestly the least romantic thing Hinata has ever experienced. But it’s you.

So, it’s perfect.

“I’ve thought about this for years.” Hinata whispers between gentle kisses.

“Me too.” You smile against his lips, trying to sneak another kiss before he pulls away astonished.

“You what?” He grabs your shoulders desperately. “If you knew why didn’t you say something?”

“I thought it was obvious,” you try to explain. “I thought you were waiting for a reason.”

“I’m not that smart.” Hinata smiles then rests his forehead against yours. “I love you.” He says, finally. It’s a weight off his shoulders and it feels so right.

You open your mouth, and he notices you fumble for words. He kisses you before you can say anything because you know. He finally told you.

And that’s enough.

[longitud-de-onda]

on a universal constant, falling off the bottom of the earth

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; you and javier were best friends but life pulled you in separate directions. javi’s now just returned from colombia and you both find yourselves driving out to a spot in the desert in the middle of the night rating; t warnings; a subtle brand of depression, an existential crisis, some stuff that might be triggering if you’re suicidal or have a deep fear of death, so much angst you’ll probably want to sue me word count; 6.0k universal constant masterlist

July meant hot night air, so you leave your house and start up the truck, taking your time to wind through the streets. You don’t stop when you reach the edge of town, starting down the country road. There are no streetlights, just the great expanse of dirt and rock that rises into towering formations on either side. There’s no one else on the road. You’re too far away from anywhere anyone would want to be. 

The clear night sky out in the country has always been your favorite sight. The shades of deep purple and blue dotted with millions of stars have always fascinated you. When you were a kid you would climb up to your roof, spend hours lying up there questioning how far away every star was. You would wonder how big the universe was. Sometimes, you would imagine your house hanging off the bottom of Earth, an upwards gravitational pull the only thing keeping you from falling forever down into the dark.

You’re much older now. You had drifted in and out of your home, off to college for some time. Coming back.

You tried not to think about space like that anymore. 

In the distance, you can see the white light of a gas station approaching slowly. By the time the sign saying it’s a mile out arrives you’re already slowing down. You pull into the harsh glow, parking the truck and jumping down onto the asphalt. The hot dry air hits you hard. It’s not the invasive, sticky, painful heat. It’s soft and a light breeze caresses your bare arms to remind you that it could be much worse.

You enter the convenience store, struck by the realization of exactly where you are. 

It’s like you’re on autopilot as you walk to the back of the store, straight to the refrigerators, pulling out a six-pack of the off-brand soda you used to drink as a teen. It has been longer than you can even remember since you last tasted the sweet liquid, and you wondered if it would still taste the same. 

You grabbed a bag of jerky and a pack of M&Ms on your way to the register. 

The guy working wears the same teal vest the guys did all those years ago. The same acne riddled face of a teenager asks if you want a bag, the same careless voice. Almost like nothing has changed in twenty years except the music playing over the speakers. Who the hell would sign up to work all the way out here?

You suppose you’d have applied had you been ten years younger and unemployed.

You’re back on the road, driving away from the light, further into the emptiness of the desert. It’s easy to let your mind wander. Why couldn’t you fall asleep? Why did you leave the safety of your home? What was calling you to drive in this direction? 

It’s not a conscious decision that causes you to pull off the road, begin driving on a dirt path that hardly exists anymore, more like muscle memory. No longer does the familiar route have the worn-out path, free of shrubs, and you wince every time you have to run over another plant. 

The headlights cast long shadows across the prickly bushes. Sticks and small rocks are illuminated like devilish hands grabbing at the tires. Plumes of dust rising behind you restrict any view out your review mirror. A small animal, possibly a fox but you’re not entirely sure, darts across the trail along the point where the light fades into the black again, the motion causing you to slam the brakes. 

You start up once more, your truck bumping across the desert, out towards the hill that rises up in front of you. 

What’s drawing you back here, you’re not sure. A sick sense of nostalgia? Or a state of mind you haven’t allowed yourself to acknowledge since you were a teen?

Even though it’s been years since you returned from college, you haven’t come back here since one August night after senior year.

You stop the vehicle at the base of the hill. A few deep breaths center you. You stuff the food into your pockets, grab your purse off the passenger seat, along with the cans of soda. They’ve grown slick with condensation and while you can do nothing to stop the goosebumps that crop up on your skin, as soon as you exit the truck and reenter the summer heat, the cold feels good. You lower the cans to touch your thigh, allowing yourself to close your eyes and take in the sensation of cold aluminum brushing up against you. 

Slamming the door closed and locking the truck, you begin to hike up the hill, stopping only when you reach a large flat outcropping of rock. 

You walk out onto the boulder, sinking into a sitting position on the smooth stone. 

When you were a teen, you and Javier would come out here

Every time Javi’s mom would come back down from her near-permanent high, once a month or so to show up for some baseball game or to take him out for dinner, she and Chucho would start screaming at each other the whole night. Javi would throw a stone up at your window and you’d slip out onto the roof, jumping down to the ground and you’d drive out, pocketing handfuls of pebbles on the hike up to your rock. You’d take turns throwing them as far as you could. Each time screaming out the name of someone or something that had hurt you. 

The one day where Javi beat up Niles Breckinridge ‘cause he kept asking you out and you kept saying no and he decided to corner you in the girl’s locker room. How Javi found out what he was doing you had no idea, but Niles was on the floor, nose bleeding, and Javi’s knuckles were bruised when he grabbed your hand and you ran out to your car, the two of you laughing and crying as you hit the highway, skipping class to drive out to the middle of nowhere. 

When your parents started screaming about your grades you had shown up at Javi’s doorstep, crying, and he led you to the passenger seat of his car. You drove in silence until just past the gas station, and up on this boulder, over canned beer and Starbursts, everything came spilling out: the way Mr. Wallace wouldn’t give you any grade higher than a C unless you wore that low cut top to school once a week, how Mr. Chapman wouldn’t explain why you got an F on every single essay even when you asked him how you could improve your grade, how Mrs. Hayes didn’t like you because you were the only kid in Spanish class who didn’t grow up speaking the language, so your accent was terrible, how Ms. Gordon would let you rewrite any essay you wanted but never offer any advice on how to improve things, how Mr. Phillips didn’t care that you could do more push-ups than at the beginning of the year, only that you still could do the least in the class. And as your tears hit the flat stone overlooking the desert, you stared up at the sky and Javi lay next to you. You laid like that for hours that day, not touching, just side by side, existing in each others’ presence. 

The time you found Javi crying at the park, having been dumped by Morgan Powell, and even though you hadn’t spoken in weeks cause he didn’t want to spend any time with you anymore, he didn’t complain when you held his hand, walked with him to your truck, and found yourselves out in the middle of nowhere. He climbed down the hill to grab a blanket from the car and only for those three minutes he was gone did you let yourself cry. 

The night before Javi left for Texas A&M you spent the entire night out here, watching the sunrise before you climbed back down to the car, and you fell asleep on the drive home. That was your last chance to tell Javi that somewhere along the line you had fallen in love, and you never had the guts to say it. He was gone by the end of the day. 

It wasn’t fair, but you were leaving too, thousands of miles away. One of the only kids to leave the state. You had managed to turn your grades around and were headed up to New York to attend Vassar the next week, and you didn’t come home for summer break that year or the next. The third summer you got a job at the pool. You saw Javi a couple times, as you sat upon your lifeguard’s chair and he brought a different girl every week, hands flying all over their bikini-clad bodies. After the PDA got a little less family-friendly, they’d disappear. Halfway through the summer, he brought along Lorraine Crawford, your middle school best friend who ditched you as soon as you entered high school, and she kept coming back, week after week. 

Javi never noticed you sitting up there watching his every move like a hawk. You had drifted far from his life, and you weren’t sure if you really knew him anymore. 

You came back home after you graduated, got a job in the town center, bought a house, didn’t have to speak to your parents again after they moved away. You became a regular at the diner down the block, and you stopped by the coffee shop on Main Street every morning before work. Some of the people you knew from high school would invite you out to the bar every weekend. You’d go. 

Javi became a police officer. Some nights you’d see him on the other side of the bar. You weren’t friends anymore and you weren’t really sure when you stopped. Probably long before that last night on the rock. 

One day a fancy letter showed up in your mail. Nice paper, frilly letters. A wedding invitation. It came with a handwritten note, not from Javier, but Lorraine. You almost RSVP’d with a no. 

The church was beautiful and happy, and more than a few people there from high school surprised you with friendly words. You were contemplating going to the reception as you waited for the procession. You weren’t close to Lorraine or Javier. Not anymore. Free food didn’t seem worth inserting yourself somewhere you didn’t belong. 

A half-hour after the ceremony was set to begin someone announced that Javier hadn’t shown up. The wedding wouldn’t be happening. As you walked out of the building you could hear Lorraine crying. A month later the word around town was that Javier had moved to Colombia. 

You look out into the dark desert. The smell of sage is potent in the heat, and a lone pair of headlights appear in the distance. You watch the car as it speeds along before the red taillights of the other side of the vehicle disappear into the opposite horizon. 

You pop open a can of soda. 

It’s a mechanical sound that contrasts the soft whisper of the wind and the snakes, a few birds in the distance, and the low hum of insects. 

It’s never quiet out here but this background noise is the only thing that has ever truly calmed you. 

The taste of soda brings back more memories you thought had been lost. The early days on the playground with Javi, two six-year-olds climbing to the top of the structure as your parents both call out for you to get down. When you were eleven the two of you ran a lemonade stand for the whole summer, saving up to buy yourselves bikes. 

It wasn’t until Javi turned sixteen and instead of wandering the streets to avoid your families, he could drive you out of town, floating between convenience stores and rest stops for hours. It wasn’t long before you discovered this spot up here.

This rock became your spot. A sanctuary.

What drew you here after all those years, you weren’t sure. You rip open the pack of jerky, letting the tangy scent fill the air. 

Why didn’t you ever come back? The hot desert air is like a healing bath, seeping into your body as you gaze at the stars. After Javi left you had dated guys, spent evenings with friends, and lived your life. But you sit here now wondering what has happened with all the time. Had you been really living? Or just wandering through a haze? 

The truth was, you knew why you never came back. 

These memories were too painful to have sorted through any earlier. A whole life, wasted, as you fell away from the one person you loved as a teenager and never truly climbed back up from. 

Another pair of headlights appear in the distance, cutting a line across the brush. The car slows straight ahead of you and pulls off the road, heading towards where you sit. You glance down at your truck below. There isn’t enough time to get down there and into your car before whoever it is reaches you. Your hand slips into your purse, grasping around the canister of pepper spray. 

If you’re lucky, they aren’t headed up to your rock. 

The car pulls up and stops alongside your truck. You jump at the sound of the door slamming and peer down. 

You’d recognize that leather jacket anywhere, even in the penumbra of the headlights of his car before they flick off. You didn’t know he was back.

Another sip of soda. Waiting. The sound of rocks sliding down the hill. A couple crunches of dirt under shoes. Plastic against stone as you pick up the bag of jerky. Metal against stone when you set down your can. Deep, slow breaths. Dark leather boots next to your leg, tapping against the rock. A low groan. Javi sitting next to you. 

You keep staring off at the horizon, your chest rising and falling. The last time you were actually really with Javi you were 18. His car parked in front of your house. 8:30am. He jostled your shoulder, pulling you up from your slumped position against the window as you slept. You got out, the blanket still wrapped around you and he hugged you on your front lawn. He whispered goodbye to you, and you were too tired to say anything back. 

All the other times your paths had crossed it had been in silence and at a distance. Years and years of nothing. You had everything to say to him but you weren’t sure if any of it was worth saying. The man sitting beside you used to be an extension of yourself. Now he’s a stranger.

You pull a cold can out of the plastic rings, extending it towards Javi.

“Soda?”

“Thanks.” He grabs the can, his fingers brushing against yours. Enough to feel how rough they were.

You had imagined his voice would be the same as the lanky teen he was back then. It hadn’t even crossed your mind that it would be this much lower, deeper, hoarser. Hesitant. 

A hiss then the pop comes. Your gaze shifts over to watch his hands. They’re so big around the small can and he lifts it up to his lips to take a sip. Finally, after all this time, you get to give Javi a good look. The years have treated him well. The Colombian sun leaving a deep bronze tone, his face a far cry from the clean-shaven boy he once was. You had seen him after college, after he grew out the mustache and his hair darkened, face filling out into an even more handsome one. But in the time since then, a few lines have been left in his forehead and around his eyes. Still doesn’t make him any less beautiful.

“Haven’t had one these in ages,” he says. 

You look away, not responding. What could you say? What was there to talk about? Could one night up here possibly cover even a portion of what had happened?

Then in a terrifying moment, your brain puts something forward that shakes you to your core. 

Did he even want to talk to you anymore? Or had you grown so far apart that there was nothing left?

Javi sets down his can and shrugs off his jacket, throwing it to the side. You can feel him staring at you, but can’t bring yourself to break your gaze at the sky. You lean back, lying on the cool stone. All you can think of is how the distance between you and Javier feels further than you and those stars.

“You know, sometimes during stakeouts, looking over Bogotá? I would pretend we were up here. Staring out over the desert like we did when we were kids. I’d wonder if you were lookin’ up at the same stars I was.” His voice cracks momentarily and he lets out a shaky breath. “I’d always think about how you’d talk about falling off the bottom of the earth.”

You press your eyes closed, blocking out the deep expanse of the universe. The speed at which you were zooming back to Javi was too goddamn fast. How can he say that? How can he think about you when he hardly gave you the time of day after you both left home for the first time. When he wasn’t even the one to invite you to his own wedding.

“Do you come up here often?” he says.

You still haven’t said more than a word since he got up here. You’re not sure if the honest answer is the one he wants. You say it anyway.

“No. Last time was with you.” You try to hide the fact that tears are streaming down your face but he wasn’t fooled by that when you were kids, he wasn’t going to be fooled now. It’s easier to let the tears show through in your voice than hide them as you say, “Did you bring Lorraine up here?”

He’s quiet and you hear the burbling hunting call of a quail. Then a soft rustling as he lays back onto the stone too. 

“Why would I do that?” he asks. 

You have the guts now to tilt your head over and give him that questioning look. 

“Why wouldn’t you? You seemed to love her. Back before, you know...”

Once again he’s quiet. The sky seems to have lost any of the reddish tinges, leaving only the deepest ocean blue. You wish it was the ocean. Maybe if it was it wouldn’t make you think so much. You could just stare and stare and empty your mind. 

A breeze blows by and you shiver, cold for the first time this whole night.

“Yeah, well. Didn’t seem right, you know? This is our spot,” he says. 

You push yourself back up, staring back down at him.

“Our spot?” you ask. “Javi, is there even an ‘us’ anymore?” 

You place your elbows on top of your crossed legs and rest your forehead on your hands. You were always too quick to get worked up. Too fast to think through the things you said. Javi had extended an olive branch and you may have snapped it in half.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

“No, I’m sorry. We drifted, I don’t know.” He sits back up beside you. “You never sent a letter and I didn’t either. That first summer back you weren’t there. After the second I thought you didn’t want to see me. Stopped looking, I guess. That’s on me.”

“I was back the third summer, you know?” you say, “I was a lifeguard at the pool. Watched you come in with Lorraine week after week.”

“You were?”

“Yeah.” You don’t say how you watched him with all the other girls too. 

“After I graduated, thought I might come back. Say hello. I heard Vassar already graduated, so if you were back, you’d be there. Your parents’ place was empty.”

“They moved out. I bought a house closer to town.” You picked up your soda again and took a sip.

“I saw you at the bars a couple times.”

“So did I. You never said hi.”

“You didn’t either,” he says. 

You pull out the bag of M&Ms from your pocket. Javi laughs. It sounds clear in the middle of the night. The only competition for airwaves is the quails. You fiddle with the edge of the plastic before it glides open, and you dump a few of the chocolates into your palm.

“Of course you were hiding those.” You can hear the smile in Javi’s voice.

You hold out the bag to him and he extends a palm, allowing you to pour some into his hand. 

Looking down at your own collection, you push the candies into colored categories as best you can in the desaturated night light. 

“You know, I was at your wedding. Lorraine sent me the invitation. Said you didn’t add me to the guest list but she thought you’d want me there anyway. I was sitting there in the pews as the time ticked and nothing happened. And you know what? I wasn’t getting worried about you not showing up. That never crossed my mind.” You take a breath. “I was sitting there debating whether or not I should go to the reception. Make the two of you speak to someone you both had fallen out of touch with. It didn’t seem fair.” 

“You were there?” he sounds distant, voice shaking a bit and you glance over to see his gaze glazed over, fixated on some spot in the desert.

“Yeah. Lorraine was really torn apart after that. We went out for drinks a week later. She asked me what the hell was wrong with you. I didn’t have an answer,” you say. “We made up. She was an asshole in high school, but so were so many others. I forgave her. When she got married to Randy, I was one of her bridesmaids.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t invite you,” he says. You think he’s going to say more. Give an explanation. Nothing comes.

“Why’d you do it?”

“Not invite you? Or leave Lorraine?” he asks. 

“I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

He exhales. You’re putting him on the spot, you know that. But that’s what this hill is for. It’s where you say the tough stuff. You let each other cry. It’s the place where you let yourselves feel without voicing half of it because the other knows exactly what you’re going through. 

It still wasn’t comfortable enough to let you say the toughest thing of all.  

And worse, right now, you have no idea what’s running through Javi’s mind. 

“I couldn’t bring her into all of it,” he starts. “I had been in the DEA for a year by then. Knew the tough shit I’d have to do. If I was going to go up any higher, I was scared I’d be putting her in danger. And part of it was that I was just an asshole. Guess I still am.”

You pour out a few more M&Ms into your palm. The red ones go near your fingers, next yellow, then green, blue, and brown. All the way down to the heel of your hand. You eat the red ones first. One by one. 

“You’re not. You might have been to Lorraine, but you’re not. You care, Javi.” You look over and he’s still focusing on some little spot in the distance. 

“I am though. You don’t know what I’ve done. Down in Colombia. I—I did things you wouldn’t have liked.” He stopped to put an M&M in his mouth. A few minutes passed as he chewed the remaining candy in his palm, one by one. Then washed them down with the soda. “I killed people. And my decisions left even more dead. I did so many bad things.”

“Why?” You swallow.

“You used to not ask that.”

He was right. You used to say things. No explanations needed. You both had grown. “I don’t feel like I can read you as well as I used to.”

Javi sets down his can on the rock. The soft clink seems to echo across the sweeping land. You wouldn’t be surprised if the guy at the gas station heard it.

“I had to do a lot of the things,” he whispers. “Did a lot of the other things to forget the things I had to do.”

You look over him as he closes his eyes. You think you see a tear fall down the side facing away from you, but he tilts his head away.

“I’m sorry,” you say. You didn’t use to say that either.

“Wasn’t your fault.”

“You shouldn’t have had to go through that. Alone. You know?”

Javi deserved people in his life. He had gone through so much shit as a kid; to have to go through even more as an adult, it wasn’t fair.

“You mean Lorraine?” Your heart aches when you hear the way Javi says her name. It’s different from the way he says yours. Different emotions. You suppose that’s what his voice sounds like when he says the name of someone he loves.

You don’t fucking mean Lorraine though. You’re tiptoeing around it, but you mean you. 

“No, I just mean anyone. You might not have wanted to bring her into all of it but maybe you needed to have brought someone. So you didn’t feel so alone.”

If it was anyone else sitting next to him, they wouldn’t notice the way his hand shakes, the empty can making no noise, but it’s not anyone else. Maybe Lorraine would have noticed too.

You wish Javi had reached out to you, all those years ago when he thought you didn’t care. Maybe you could have gotten to be part of his life, even if you weren’t in the front row, you could still be in the theater. Not sitting in the parking lot, crying in your car. At least that’s what these past twenty years or so have felt like.

Underneath all the stars he looks so small. You both do. You want to hug him. Or something. You can’t even bring yourself to nudge his foot with yours. 

“Never said I felt alone,” he says.

“You didn’t have to.”

You feel the tears in the corners of your eyes and you try to blink them dry. It doesn’t work. You love Javi so much that if he really wanted to be with Lorraine, you were going to be there and make sure he was happy. But in the end, that wasn’t what he wanted.

It’s weird how having someone suddenly back in your life can make it feel like everything is right again. Like your entire existence has felt so pointless because he wasn’t part of it. You never believed in soulmates, but you thought that maybe someone was right when they decided that you’re bonded to someone in life. That their presence would make you whole again. They were just wrong in believing the other person would always love you back.

“I didn’t invite you because I didn’t know if you cared anymore. I felt we were too far apart that I wouldn’t matter,” he says. “I was scared you didn’t care anymore.”

“We could not speak for 50 years and I’d still want to be at your wedding, Javi. You’ve always mattered.” That was it, wasn’t it? Javi was always what mattered.

When your life felt like everything was falling apart as it always seems to when you’re a teen, he was always there to catch you. And you caught him too. Time and time again. And then your lives parted ways and you started falling with no net. Javi mattered.

“Why’d you come out here?” he asks.

“What?”

“Why’d you come all the way out here when you haven’t been back since we were 18?”

“Did you ever come back? Until today?” Even without Lorraine, you assume he might have. But maybe he’s like you. It hurt too much to come out here. Almost like you couldn’t without Javi. Not until tonight. And well, the universe seems to have had other plans.

“No,” he says. Simple.

“I couldn’t sleep. It was too hot and I was too alone. My house felt too small. Had to get out. I didn’t even realize where I was going until I reached the gas station.” You pull out another can from the pack and flip up the tab.

If you’re being honest with yourself, it tastes terrible. Like a Coke gone wrong. But it also tastes like nights up here with Javi. You don’t think a single time you came up you didn’t at least share a can. You used to each have an emergency case in the trunks of your cars. Even when you came up to drink beer and dance and tell each other about the things going on, there was always a can of soda. 

“Guess I had a feeling. I needed to get out,” you continue.” Tonight was just the night where I finally let myself need this. Didn’t even know you were back.”

“Only got back a few hours ago.”

No. A few hours ago? He woke up yesterday in Colombia and was now sitting here at 3am on a rock hanging over the desert with you?

“What?” you ask. “And this is the first place you went?”

“I dropped off my things with my dad.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Then yeah. First place I guess.”

He comes back and the first place he goes is here? What does that even mean?

He’s facing you now and you grin and raise your eyebrows. “Why?”

“Guess I had a feeling,” he mocks back. 

“Why up here. Why this first?” You’re not voicing the real question. Why is the first thing something that means you?

He reaches over, grabbing the bag of jerky and pulling out a piece. He puts it in his mouth and rips off a chunk. You know what he’s like when he doesn’t want to answer a question he knows the response to.

You stare back out and watch a car cross the desert. Then another. You lie back down, staring up at the stars again. And Javi still says nothing. 

“Maybe there’s a parallel universe out there where everything’s the same but we can both end up here but on different nights and not find each other.”

He doesn’t say anything but you can see him tilting up his head.

“Or maybe this rock is just a universal constant. Like in every version of Earth, one of us can’t spend a night here without the other. It just isn’t allowed.”

Your favorite thing about the night sky is how out here on a clear night, you can see the milky way, a saturated strip of stars belting across the dome. The fact that it’s so damn big has always scared you. You say as much to Javi.

“I’ve always been scared that we’re so small. That we mean nothing. If best friends can go from being everything to being strangers who avoid each other and don’t notice when the other is watching and the only people that care are the two friends themselves, who’s to say anyone cares about us? Maybe we’re all alone. A little rock flying around a bigger burning rock that somehow bubbled up intelligent life, an intergalactic anomaly... A little sphere that doesn’t care that my life feels pointless, and my life feels pointless because of that.”

“Your life isn’t pointless.”

“Then what is it? Because ever since college I don’t know what I’ve been doing. Stuck in my hometown, in love with all the people who don’t love me back.” It’s the first time for the night you know Javi can’t see you crying. Your voice is stable enough to hide it, and he’s sitting up, looking away from you. “And I guess it’s all fine cause I’m going to exist in this little millisecond on a cosmic scale and no one gives two shits if I live or die.”

“I do.”

“Do you, Javi? Because it didn’t seem like you were ever really looking. I could have disappeared and it would have been all the same.”

He’s quiet again and you think that it’s because on some level he knows you’re right.

“There was another reason I left Lorraine at the altar,” he says. You’re not sure if he’s answered more than one of your damn questions the whole night, only saying things that crop up new ones.

“That girl is amazing. She didn’t deserve to be someone’s second choice.”

“Second choice?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” his voice shakes and you sit up again, realizing that he’s crying.

You reach out to touch his shoulder. “Javi—”

He turns away from you. Then he’s leaning on his far arm, pushing himself up. You grasp at his wrist, hoping he’ll stay. Just long enough to finish this. He pulls out of your grip. And he still hasn’t explained himself.

“Javi,” you breathe out. “Stay? Just tonight. You never have to see me again after this. Please?”

That gets him to stop. “What if I want to see you again?”

You turn around looking up at him. The starlight shines against the longitudinal lines on his cheeks. He looks so much like the kid you grew up with.

You stand up, grabbing his jacket off the ground and handing it to him. You can’t make the same mistake you did when you were 18.

“You don’t have to stay, Javi. I’m sorry. You can go. It doesn’t matter what you meant by second choice. I don’t want to push you. I just, that last night? When we were kids? It was my last chance to tell you something and I didn��t have the guts to say it. And by the time I saw you again, it’d been a few years and you were bringing all the other girls to the pool and I was too scared to even say hello.”

He’s holding the jacket limply in his arms. You’re sure you’ve never looked at Javi in the eyes like this ever before. All those nights and you’ve never looked into his eyes and shared the vulnerability that you do now and seen the same expression staring back at you.

“I love you.” It was so much easier than you had ever imagined. The scary thing was actually not saying the words, but staring into Javi as his face shifted.

It began with shock then awe then admiration, all familiar expressions that you had seen a thousand times before. Then it morphed into something you didn’t know as he dropped the jacket and put a hand in yours, spinning you out so you stood side by side instead of face to face, and led you to the edge of the rock. He let go for a moment and when his hand returned there was a stone in it, which he closed your fingers around.

“Having to wait until now to be with the person I love,” he whispers. You’re confused until he’s winding up and throwing something. His own rock.

Oh.

You look down at the rock in your hand.

“Not telling people you love them before you almost lose them,” you say. Your rock flies even farther.

You’re smiling and you look up at Javi. He’s grinning at you and his arms pull you in, wrapping you up and you return the embrace, pulling him close.

“I love you too.”

You nod against his shoulder and pull away, wanting to really look at him.

And in Javi’s eyes, you can see the reflection of thousands of stars, shining bright and big and far away, all contained within the beautiful dark you’ve looked into for what feels like your entire life, and you can now call it home. 

-o-o-o-o-

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest​ @turquiosenights @el-lizzie​ @sparrows-books​ @dxxkxx​ @opheliaelysia​ @trashbin2​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @letaliabane​ @awesomefandomsunited​

[tangent101]

Thoughts on writing about Max’s parents

It’s odd sometimes what can bring about some writer’s block. I know people like to think of it as not knowing what to write, but it’s not always that. Sometimes you know what you want to write, but some of the details get in the way. That’s what’s currently hitting me, and my problem likes with Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield. 

When Life is Strange came out, very little was known about Ryan and Vanessa. We know that Ryan went to a sporting event with his daughter, they went sightseeing at the Needle (and honestly that should be another clue that the Caulfield family is not well-to-do because the Needle is something tourists do... and no doubt Ryan and Vanessa brought Max there to try and distract her from missing Chloe and Arcadia Bay so badly), and I think Max did cross-stitch with her mom? She and her mother sewed a pillow, which I assume meant cross-stitching patterns on it. 

Oh, and we know Vanessa is very protective of her daughter and didn’t want her to go to Blackwell, with Ryan likewise following Vanessa’s lead here by suggesting Max could move back home and go to school in Seattle. Also, Max’s parents were stricter than William and Joyce were and didn’t like her daughter causing a mess.

But what else is there? I mean, Max never kissed anyone before the dare by Chloe in Episode 3. If you refuse to kiss Chloe, Max comments '"I think I'm too young for marriage” which honestly is a rather odd comment. I mean, people don’t have to get married to kiss. The phrasing is such that it doesn’t sound like sarcasm. So... why would Max think something like that?

It could very well be that Max was extremely sheltered. She might not have been given “The Talk” by her parents, or they gave it when she was distracted and not paying attention and then at her vague “okay” while looking through pictures smiled at each other and went “good, now we can tell everyone we told her everything and it’s the truth! No one needs know she wasn’t listening to us...” or somesuch. 

Another question, and a good one that honestly has never been given an answer, is how would Ryan and Vanessa react to their daughter coming out as gay? I mean, the obvious answer is they love their daughter and would respect her choices but... do they? They keep urging her to come back home. Are they being respectful but overprotective parents? Or are they edging toward smothering and overbearing? 

With the story I’m trying to tell, I’ve already chosen certain aspects that are strongly hinted at in the game. Max’s parents lost their jobs during the Great Recession, they were foreclosed upon and lost the house, and had to move to Seattle where Max’s grandfather lived until they could find new jobs and an apartment for them and Max. They don’t have a lot of money - Max’s clothes are all from a thrift store (Value Village), her laptop was a refurbished one, and she really does need her scholarship in order to attend Blackwell. 

Well, how would it impact you to lose your house and have to pack the bare essentials when moving out? While I don’t consider Before the Storm to be canon, Farewell did a good job of remaining in the borders of existing prior content. In that, we saw Max leaving on the funeral with a car stuffed full of stuff. There was no UHaul trailer or the like. And if they’d used a moving truck or van, they would have loaded everything into it. This is probably the things that mean the most to Ryan and Vanessa.

So I figured Vanessa would be someone who embraces more of a “minimalist” lifestyle. She doesn’t buy a lot of belongings because you can’t bring it with you. You never know when you’re going to have to move with just what you can stuff in a car. So I could see her periodically going through the apartment and throwing out things she feels they don’t need. That might include old photographs... like photographs of Chloe.

Looking at how Max differs in the original and the William Lives timelines, it’s clear that Max was deeply impacted by William’s death. She also has troubles talking about this and feels that she can’t just tell Chloe this because it’s not her dad who died. I sure as heck doubt she’d admit as such to her parents! 

So a mother who is on a decluttering spree and also concerned about her depressed daughter who talks about missing Chloe and all that... might very well decide to throw out Chloe’s pictures because out-of-sight, out-of-mind. And Max would catch her or see the pictures in the trash... and I honestly think this would be one of the few times a younger Max would stand up to her mother.

But would Vanessa go that far? It’s one thing to be overprotective of your daughter to the point of avoiding telling her about the “birds and the bees” but to throw out your daughter’s pictures of her best friend? I’m not sure.

The next question is... why would she? If she were homophobic, that would make some sense. But Max still has the photos. A homophobic Vanessa worried her daughter might be gay would have gotten rid of them anyway at some point. What’s more, Max never comments one way or another about her mother’s views on homosexuality. So it honestly seems likely her parents either aren’t... or never thought about it. Finding out later that their daughter is a lesbian and in love with a blue-haired punk lesbian might cause potential issues but... no. I honestly don’t think they’re homophobic.

In the end? I’m leaning a little toward Vanessa having tried to throw out some of Max’s old photos, or put them away somewhere out-of-sight because they were “a mess” - we do know Max and Chloe would play more often down Chloe’s house than in the Caulfield home due to Max’s parents not liking messes. I’ll have to think a little more about it, however.

[verstappenfan]

The scar on my right palm

People often ask me how I got the scar on my right palm. It usually happens when I go to shake hands with people or just accidentally show them the palm of my hand. They look at my hand and say something along the lines of: “What’s that? Let me grab your hand real quick and put it right up to my eye so I can stare at that weird line on your hand. Dude, is that a scar? How did you get a scar there? That is weird my guy.”

Not the biggest fan, but I can’t really help it. Scars fade, but they never go away completely, they are always there whether you like it or not. So people are free to stare and poke and prod because that is their god-given right, apparently. I probably wouldn’t be that different if I hadn’t had my scar if I am being honest. Everyone is curious and constantly seeking information about each other. And anyway, how many people do you know that have a scar on their right palm?

The healing process of a scar goes as follows: Right after the scar has been made the inflammatory process begins, this usually lasts only for a few days. During this stage, the bleeding will stop and our best friends, the white blood cells, will come running as fast as they can and fight any nasty infection you might have. The scar at this point will look red and swollen. Afterwards, the proliferative stage takes place and lasts for three to four weeks. During this stage, fibroblasts (let’s call them skin and tissue creators) gather at the site of the injury just like people would gather at the sight of a violent murder. These fibroblasts will then create a thing called “Collagen”. The collagen strengthens your wound and pulls the edges of said wound closer together. At the same time, tiny blood vessels are formed to aid the healing process. At this stage the scar will become thicker and uncomfortable, many people usually worry at this stage because the scar looks worse, but there isn’t any need to, it is simply a part of the healing process. Lastly, the remodelling stage can begin. This stage can take anywhere from several weeks to many years to finish, depending on how bad the scar is. The scar will go from thick and red to thin and white, barely noticeable. But don’t worry, it will still be there, it will never go away.

But you might ask, “How did you get this scar then? And what was the point of telling us the healing process of a scar?” For your second question, the answer is simple. The more you know the better, right? I gave you information for free, be grateful. For your first question though, that is a bit of a story if I am honest. See I had this friend, we will call him Kyle, short for Kyloffer.

Kyle was my first real friend, and by that I mean someone I actually wanted to hang out with, not just some classmate you pretend you are friends with for about four hours while you smash your toy trucks together at terminal velocity. Someone you can actually talk to and feel like they aren’t judging you. Kyle felt the same way about me, friends forever and all that jazz.

But you see, back when I was a little smaller, let’s say around fourteen or fifteen, Kyle told me he was moving away during the summer. His parents had got a new job somewhere, so they had to move, as it would be much easier for the parents to live closer to their work. Besides, you can just change school like you change the background of your phone without having too big of an impact on your life, right? But I shouldn’t talk, mommy and daddy know best.

Kyle and I would still be able to talk, of course, but it would be over the phone, and I don’t know if you know this, but hearing someone’s voice and seeing them in person can’t really be compared when you actually think about it, no matter what people try to tell you. So, fearing that we might somehow lose contact, we decided to do something drastic! Now, now, calm down, we didn’t create a suicide pact where we both would jump in front of a train. We did something less drastic, but it was still a pact, a blood pact. We had heard about people being bonded forever with the help of blood pacts, so we decided to do one.

We met up one evening with two knives, we had to be a bit sneaky with them because two teenagers with kitchen knives just walking around would arouse no suspicion at all. We went into the forest and walked in as far as we could without getting lost, so about twenty meters off the path basically. We took out our knives and looked each other in the eye. No, before you ask, there was no romantic or sexual tension in the air, thanks for asking.

We placed the knives on our palms, let the sharp end pierce our skin like it was butter, and grabbed each other’s hands with a firm grip. Any businessman would have hired us on the spot, trust me. We sat there for a few minutes, not really knowing when to stop. We stopped when we heard someone coming along the path. We got scared for a second because what would a person think about two teenage boys with blood on their hands and knives on the ground. Thankfully, it was just a jogger with her dog that ran past without a second look.

We laughed about it when she was out of earshot. We decided that the best way to walk home was with our bloody hand in our pocket. We promised each other we wouldn’t wash away the blood from our hand until the morning, so it really worked or some dumb thing we made up on the spot to make a ritual that we just did somehow actually work.

A scar never leaves you, it may fade with time, but it is always there. Just on your body, sitting there, telling you it will never leave you. You could say a scar can be your best friend, it is always there through your highs, but also your lows. Always remaining by your side until the day you die, and even then it stays until you decompose enough for it to finally not exist anymore. It is a soothing thought actually, that something will be with you when you die.

But a friendship can also fade with time, but unlike a scar, it can go away. Kyle and I talked all of that summer, even hung out for a week when my parents decided to take a mini-holiday in their city. We showed each other our scars and how they were still there. Just resting on our palms.

We started talking less and less when school actually started, we had always talked about how we would study the same thing, but halfway through his first year away from me, he started talking about how he wanted to do other things. I was okay with this, of course, people don’t need to do everything I want them to do. That would be selfish and egotistical to think everyone should revolve around me. But I still felt a bit hurt.

He met some other friends, the good kind. The kind I would probably like if I got the chance to interact with them. He started hanging out with his other friends more and more and spent less time talking to me. He often made up excuses like “Homework is overloading me”, “I promised -insert name here- I would hang out with them” and “Dude I just have a lot going on okay?”

Every time the excuses got more and more that he didn’t have enough time any more. I was okay with this, of course, people don’t need to do some of the things I want them to do. That would be controlling and selfish and egotistical. The world should not revolve around me, Kyle shouldn’t have to make his life revolve around our phone calls. But I still felt a bit hurt.

We started talking about once a month, it was supposed to be more, but sometimes he didn’t pick up the phone. When I got my driver’s license I asked if I should come over that summer so we could hang out, like the good old times. He said that he wasn’t sure if he would have time, the summer holidays are so short and all, right? But a few days into it, he called me for the first time in a long while (I had been calling for a while, not the other way around). He said that I should come over, it would be nice to reminisce.

So I got in my car and I drove through the hours and kilometres it would take to get there. When I finally got there he welcomed me in. We sat and he offered me a beer, I thought that was weird as he had never liked beer before. People change I suppose. I declined his offer and we just sat there. I asked him about the last few weeks and he did the same in return. He seemed to be mostly just using my questions and letting me make up new ones to keep the conversation going. I finally got around to asking him about his scar.

I will never forget his reaction, it pains me to this day whenever I think about it. It actually hurts to just think about it. He said “Scar?” Then he paused for a few seconds before getting hit with a realization as I was hit with a wall of something I can not describe in words, it was like my lungs had collapsed, my eyes began to water and my fingers twitched. “Oh yeah, sorry, yeah the scar is still there. Sorry, I forgot about it.” I simply responded that it wasn’t a big deal. I looked at my clock. I said, “Oh look at the time”. I looked up at him and said I had to go. He just stared at me confused, I had only been there for an hour. I left without saying a word, he followed me out to the driveway. He must have realized what he did wrong because he started apologizing for forgetting the scar, I simply said it was OK, no big deal. He then changed his answer when I opened the car door. He started saying that it was a long time ago, it was a childish thing, it wasn’t that big of a deal, I shouldn’t be so upset about it. I agree, I shouldn’t be so upset about it.

I slammed the car door and drove away, holding back the floodgates the best I could. In the safety of my home, I fell apart. Scars are always there, always a part of you. They will always remain by your side no matter if you are at the top of your game or have just hit rock bottom. Scars are there when you are sad, scars are there when you are happy. Scars are your closest friend.

When people ask me why I have a scar on my right palm, I simply respond with: “Oh yeah, as a child I was stupid and tried to catch a falling knife with my hand. Stupid. Little. Me.”

[kaz11283]

You 21, Sam 22, Dean 24

 

“Dean, I don’t think this is a good idea.” You voiced from the passenger seat.  “He got out.”

“Yeah and now we need him to help find dad.  Besides we go get him, he helps find dad, he’s back by Monday.  No harm no foul.”  Dean said turning the radio down a little.

“Dean, it never happens like that.”  You rolled your eyes and pulled the blanket back up around your neck.

~~~

“Dean, of all the things you had planned to come get him you didn’t call him.” You rubbed the bridge of your nose with your thumb and fore finger.  “Now this THIS is not a good idea.  He may have been out of the game of a few years but this isn’t going to end well.  Just like when you broke into MY apartment.”  You watched as Dean slid the window up so that the both of you could climb through it.

“Relax y/n he’s gonna be so surprised.” He grinned back at you.

After Sam had gotten the best of Dean while you stood in the kitchen of the small apartment Dean turned to look at you.  “I’m not the only surprise.”

“Y/n?  Oh my lord.  It feels like it’s been forever.”  Sam engulfed you in a bear hug picking you up off your feet.  “Still small I see.”  He teased ruffling your hair.

“She’s our little fun size soon to be doctor.”  Dean laughed.  Jessica stared at you during the whole exchange

“Oh Jess, this is y/n, she’s been my best friend since forever.” He laughed swinging his arm around you.  “That’s my brother Dean.”

“Funny, Sam never mentioned you.”  Her smile tight as she stretched out a hand.

“Ouch, that would have hurt if I had a care.”  You glared dropping you hand instantly before you had taken hers.  “Boys, I’ll be outside waiting.  Sammy, I call shot gun.”  You walked out of the room back to the car.

Who did she think she was?  Some annoying, probably dumb, blonde that thought she had everything over you?  Was she really jealous? Of you?  You and Sam?  You shuddered at the thought of you and him together. “Gross.”  You mumbled to yourself.

“What’s gross?”  You instinctively punched the intruder that so happened to be Dean. “Dammit y/n stop hitting me!  You’re not exactly weak in the punching department.”  He said grabbing onto his arm.  You smirked hoping that there would be a bruise on there by tomorrow.

“It’s gross that Sam’s little blonde housewife is jealous of mine and his relationship.  I would never.”  You made a gagging noise while Dean laughed.  Sam gave you both a bitch face.

“She’s not jealous, she’s just comes off wrong at first.”  Sam rubbed the back of his neck.

“She can get over it.  Next time she comes at me like that I’m gonna punch her.”  You rolled your eyes facing the front of the car.

“You hitting her would be like her getting hit by a truck.  ‘Though she be tiny she is mighty’.” Dean laughed as you rolled your eyes again.

“Dean you’re the one that taught me self-defense before I left for collage because-”

“Because guys at collage are douche bags that sometimes can’t take no for an answer, besides you cant tell me that it didn’t come in handy.”

“Your right, I had this one guy try to break into my apartment about three days ago.  I’m pretty sure he learned his lesson though.  Instead of breaking in he knows to call now a head of time.”  You laughed.

“Y/n, all I’m saying in just give her time to adjust.  She woke up in the middle of the night with two people she had never met-”

“Or heard of.”

“Y/n,” Sam huffed leaning forward, “How many people did you tell about us?”

“Sam, all of my friends know about you and Dean.  They know that yall are basically like my older brothers.  I didn’t hid much of anything from them.  The only thing that they don’t know about is the life.  They know about Uncle Bobby, they know about Dean and about you.”  You turned to look at him now he could see in your eyes that your feelings were hurt.  “They know that I keep in touch with you and Dean.  They know that you’re always to busy to make it to the holidays.  My friends know just about every aspect in my life.  It hurts to know that you didn’t even care to mention you “best friend” to your girlfriend.”  You turned around and put your headphones in your ear ending the conversation.

When you got to the motel you got a separate room from the boys telling them that it had been a long trip and you just wanted them and you to be comfortable.  Walking in you threw your overnight bag on the floor by the bed and flopped down.  You would never get use to ridding in the car for long periods of time.  You hated it, it always made you feel gross.  Grabbing a long shirt from your bag you decided to just take a shower and wash the day’s journey off of you before flopping down on the bed and flipping through the channels coming on a Dr. Sexy marathon.

“Hey pip squeak, we ordered pizza if you want some.” Dean called on the other side of the door.  You got up an opened it for him.  “Is that my shirt?”

“Probably.”  You shrugged going back to your bag and grabbing a pair of shorts to pull on under the shirt.  “Does it bother you as bad as it does me that he didn’t talk about you much?”

“Yeah, a little bit.  But that’s Sammy’s way of escaping the life.  He just ignores stuff pretending like it doesn’t exist.  He thinks that by ignoring it it’ll just disappear.  He didn’t mean to hurt your feeling or mine.”

“Wow I don’t know what hurts most the fact that he didn’t say anything about me or pretended like I didn’t exist." You said picking at one of the strings on the old faded comforter.

"Y/n if it hurts your feelings so much that you dont wanna be around him I will completely understand if you wanna go back to school. No hard feelings, no poor pitiful me bullshit. Screw Sam, but I want you to know that I'm always and will always be here." He said reaching out and placing a hand on your knee.

"Dean I really appreciate it but you came all the way to KCU to get me. Your not getting rid of me that easily, besides if it means helping your dad I can over look your jackass of a brother for a weekend." You played his hand before standing up. "Let's go scarf down since grub and make your brothers life hell by making him watch Dr. Sexy MD with us." You laughed walking out of the room.

@samsgirl93

@spn-obession

[gliese710]

Love - The Punishment: Part 1

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Y/N

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Summary: Y/N is a low ranked devil who finds her joy in the smallest of mischiefs. If only a certain angel could mind his own business.

Warnings: Swearings I guess?

Masterpost

Note: This is my first story. I'm still not sure if it's readable at all or if posting was a good idea. Still if you're reading this feel free to make suggestions ^^

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

"Smash the TV, it's tit for tat," you whisper in the enraged boy's ear. His mother just broke his gaming console. As, of course, you were successful in provoking him to play all day long despite his finals knocking on the door. And when his mother hid the console maybe you also convinced him to steal it. Teenagers should have fun, you thought.

You watch as the boy picks up his baseball bat and storms through the door. A small smirk plays on your lips as you spread your wings to follow him, not wanting to miss the show.

Goal. You step in the living room excitedly. But-

What the fuck is he doing? A frown takes place on your brows upon seeing the boy hesitant to execute the action.

Once again you reach out to him, "Come on, do it. You'll feel much better if you take your anger out. She deserves it anyway, never letting you do anything you want. This is your life, you are the one to decide how you want to spend it. She has no right to dictate you."

Still, the boy doesn't budge from his position. You watch as guilt flashes in his eyes and he slowly starts retreating to his room, leaving the TV intact.

Realization hits you like a truck after a moment. Angel. 

You move your head left and right to confirm your suspicion. And there he is, sitting on top of the dining table, legs hanging below, white wings tucked behind his back with all his grace, glaring at you with big bright eyes.

You huff out in annoyance. There's no point being here anymore. Shooting back a death glare at him, you fly out of the house.

Fucking snob. He just had to ruin your day. Now you need to find another prey. Not that it's hard, the world is full of shits anyway.

You find your target pretty soon, a small kid with his mother in a convenience store. And it's winter so-

"You want ice cream," you command, lips twitching upwards as the boy obeys you. And surely his mother denies.

So you proceed to the next step, "Chocolate ice cream tastes so good. She'll have to buy you one if you get on the floor and cry."

You were so ready to enjoy a little drama, and yet...yet the kid nods in obedience. Forget throwing a fit, he doesn't even argue.

Impossible. A small kid just resisted your advances.

You stand baffled for a second before narrowing your eyes on the source of your disruption. Of course he won't leave you that easily. 

The saucer-eyed angel from before is staring at you from outside the store, with the blankest expression of all time and you get a sudden urge to claw those eyes out.

That jobless piece of shit, why the fuck is he following you?

You decide to ask him the right way, the violent way. He bought this upon himself.

However, as you were just about to stop throwing daggers at him through your eyes and move outside so that you could maybe punch some sense into him, he flies away.

You hurriedly run outside the store but he's already gone.

Sneaky bastard.

You decide to call it a day. He just sucked up all your energy.

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

Fucking unbelievable. You had been in a great mood lately, having spent a good productive week. And here the ass of an angel had to ruin that by destroying your sweetest treat.

You spent so much time provoking that girl with the princess syndrome to bully the other girl who's wearing a wristwatch probably from the Joseon era. Seriously though, why would she even wear a model this old?

And finally, when the bully was about to break the watch he had to interrupt.

Now you are beyond mad. What is he even doing here, again?

You're not going to let him get away without settling the scores this time. He'll have to pay for your loss.

You were expecting to see him flee like before. So you get a little surprised when he doesn't even move from his position seeing you approaching.

"It's her mother's. She is wearing it because it's her death anniversary and she feels lonely, " the creep says, eyes fixed on the girl, not even sparing you a glance.

You furrow your brows in confusion. Why is he telling you all these? Is he trying to get you more worked up, by rubbing the fact in your face that you missed a good chance at witnessing a catfight when triggered enough?

He turns to look at your confused form glaring murderously at him and sighs heavily, before getting ready to run away again.

Huh. Like he could.

You too take flight after him. "Hey, dickhead! Mind telling me why the hell are you following me?" you ask, tailing behind him.

"It was a coincidence, I'm not following you," he retorts with a cold emotionless voice, looking straight ahead.

"Yeah, right," you scoff.

He keeps flying, still refusing to look at you.

"Where are you going?" you continue chasing him.

Silence.

"Do you stalk other devils too?"

Silence.

"I'm sure you were a stalker while alive, old habits die hard you know. You were accidentally put in the heaven, righ-"

He finally stops.

"I told you I wasn't following you," he speaks with a slight rise in his voice. "Stop with your tactics and please leave me alone."

"Oh! How can I leave my perfect source of entertainment alone when he willingly walked into my den?"

He glowers at you and you raise your brows, giving him a mischievous upturn of your lips.

After that day, the angel had never been left alone. You clung onto him like a leech. He tried hard to get rid of you, giving you fierce glares or sometimes trying to sweet talk you into leaving him. Nothing worked, so he gave up eventually, resorting to acting like you were invisible to him.

You're enjoying the time of your life though. Annoying him is so much fun.

"I bet that tastes nasty. What do you think?" you say, sitting beside him on the couch, watching as the newlywed husband tries hard to swallow the food his wife cooked for him. He smiles afterward, telling her this is the best food he has ever eaten.

You snort at this.

"Such cheesy lines! Aren't angels supposed to be against lying?"

He doesn't pay you any attention, instead keeps his gaze glued on the couple. The girl is now laughing hard at some joke her lovesick puppy of a husband has told.

You're itching to ruin this moment. A few days from now, they're going to be at each other's neck anyway. Why pretending now!

But your power is too limited to do anything in the presence of your companion. So pestering him would have to do for now.

"What's your name?" you ask him for the n-th time, also to get completely ignored for the n-th time.

You sigh dramatically, " It's rude you know. I've given you my name and you still refuse to tell me yours. Angels aren't supposed to be rude like this."

You get his attention this time.

"Will you leave me alone if I give you my name?" he slowly turns to look at you.

"But why would I do that?" you chuckle, "I'm not leaving you alone and that's the reason you should tell me your name," you continue, batting your eyes innocently, "We're going to spend a lifetime together."

He rolls his eyes and looks away again.

"Come on. I'm not that bad as a company and it's not like you have any friends anyway. I'm doing you a favor by keeping you entertained, " you say, now hovering over his face so that he has no choice but to look at you.

"I have friends..." he scowls, "and you just keep my headaches incessant."

You smirk and he stands up, pushing you aside to leave the house. His job here is done.

You follow, humming and swaying like a child behind him, leaving the giggling couple alone.

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

Kyungsoo can't believe his eyes. He has spent the last hour practically begging her not to do this, telling her over and over again that this shall pass, that everything will be fine again, that this is not her fault so she shouldn't be the one to commit to eternal suffering. He barely has any energy left. So, when she jumps off the cliff despite all that, he feels devastated, worthless even.

Grief covers his heart. He stares blankly at the hollow space in front of him, standing completely still.

"See..." you yawn, "Told you it's a lost case. It would be more fun to see her rip that cheater boyfriend's head off, but at least the world is ridden of a coward now. Why did she even have to love him so blindly, it always ends up the same. She had it coming anyway, being so fooli-"

"Shut up!" he snarls.

You visibly flinch. He looks outrageous. You shudder a little under his blazing gaze.

"You did this! If only I could concentrate more...but no! A useless piece of filth had to be even more of a burden," he scoffs, "Why do you even exist? The world would definitely be a better place without you!"

You stand dumbstruck. Partly because you have never imagined him to be anything other than the epitome of patience, but mostly because of how you are feeling right now. You should feel angry or happy even that you triggered him, an angel! But strangely those feelings are nowhere to be found, instead you feel...sad?

"The next time I see you I'll make sure the world gets ridden of atleast one piece of it's burdens," he growls and with that flies off to somewhere, leaving you too stunned to move.

You stand there, unable to move your eyes from the spot he stood a moment ago, utterly shaken.

Your chest feels heavy for some unknown reason. Snapping out of it after a while, you too fly, though this time not after a certain someone.

You feel lost, not knowing where to go or what to do. You curse under your breath when you realize that a few days of entertainment has done more harm to yourself than good. 

You've never been so directionless before.

[ephemeralstark]

Keep On Fighting In the Meantime

Summary: One decision is all it takes for someone's life to be thrown upside down, and sometimes it's not even a decision they've made.

Or, a drunk driver runs a red light and hits a car containing Peter and Happy. The physical and emotional injuries aren't going to go away easily, but thankfully Mr. Stark is always there for his family.

8.5K | Rated T and up | complete

Read HERE on AO3 or click the read more to view here on tumblr

“Peter are you sure you don’t wanna come?” Ned asked as he shoved a pile of papers into his locker, Peter supressed a flinch as he heard some of them tear from the rough force.

“Nah, Mr. Stark said he had some upgrades for Karen and I want to see if I can get her to understand Gen Z humour,” Peter said, “she keeps trying to call for help whenever I make jokes. Apparently, it’s ‘concerning’.”

“I mean it probably is to the uninitiated.” Ned agreed as he tried to jam his locker shut, the papers sticking out around the edges of the door.

“Y’know, MJ is gonna kill you when she sees the state of those.” Peter told him.

“Yeah, but I told her I don’t have room in my locker to store decathlon prep, this will just prove my point.” Ned said with a shrug.

“Dude.” Peter said, shaking his head at his best friend. “You’re a dead man walking. Like genuinely. You must have a death wish.”

“Maybe if she kills me, I won’t have to go to that 8am practice on Saturday.” Ned said after a moment of quiet deliberation as he looked at his locker.

“Bold of you to assume even death could get you out of practice.” Peter snorted, before glancing at him phone that buzzed with a message. “I gotta go, I don’t want to keep Happy waiting. Have fun going over all the wrong answers with the team.”

“It’s meant to be a team dinner.” Ned said quietly, a distinct whine in his voice. “It’s meant to be fun and relaxing.”

“Sure, and MJ stepped down as the leader.” Peter muttered; his words laced with sarcasm.

Peter laughed at Ned’s despair and made his way out of the back door of the school. He had an agreement with Mr. Stark that he would allow himself to be picked up by Happy so long as he used the most discreet car and parked around the back of the school.

While it would have been nice to rub it in Flash’s face that he really was an intern with Stark Industries, he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the extra attention that would come with people believing his story. His classmates would pretend to be his friend only to get close to Mr. Stark and reap the benefits, the media would jump on the story of the high school intern, and some people – in the depths of the internet - would even begin to theorise that Peter Parker was in fact Spider-Man.

So, yes, Peter decided to give up on trying to convince his classmates that he wasn’t a liar.

The familiar Audi was parked by the yellow curb and Peter could see an irate looking Happy checking his watch in the driver’s seat. He mentally snorted, apparently discreet meant an Audi that was illegally parked. Mr. Stark really didn’t have a clue.

“You’re late.” Happy said as Peter opened the back door and threw his backpack in, sliding in after it.

“Actually, I’m not.” Peter said.

“I was here bang on 5:30.” Happy said. “Practice ended at 5:30 and now it’s 5:40. You’re ten minutes late.”

“You’re insane,” Peter declared happily, “and time is a construct. It doesn’t exist, we made it up as humans to suit our needs.”

“You’re not going to exist if you continue speaking nonsense,” Happy said as he pulled away, the child locks automatically clicking on, “time is a real thing, trust me I’ve had enough arguments with Tony about that, and if you’re late again I’m gonna leave you.”

“Mr. Stark would make you come back and get me if you left.” Peter said, calling Happy’s bluff.

“Don’t I know it.” Happy complained. “He’s going soft thanks to you.”

He didn’t say that like it was a bad thing, in fact, Peter thought he almost sounded happy about that fact, but that was impossible. This was Happy they were talking about. Happy was never happy. He was always the grumpy, stoic figure in the driver’s seat who would make snide remarks and complain about the rudeness of youths these days.

If Peter didn’t care so much for his life, he would have called him a grumpy grandpa.

“Did Mr. Stark tell you what upgrades he’s planned for Karen?” Peter asked.

“84 seconds.” Happy said.

“I’m sorry?”

“You managed to stay quiet for an entire 84 seconds, it’s your personal best.” Happy said. “Do you want to try for 100 seconds?”

“Happy, I-” Peter stammered, “was that? Did you just make a joke?”

“No.” Happy said. “I’m serious.”

“Oh, well in that case I should probably tell you that I lost interest in the ‘who can stay quiet the longest’ game when I was five.” Peter continued.

“So, your poor Aunt has been suffering for the last ten years?” Happy asked. “Poor woman deserves a medal.”

“Isn’t that the truth,” Peter mumbled. That was a point he wouldn’t argue on.

“Hey, Happy?”

“Kid really?” Happy asked. “What could you possible have to ask now?”

“Well, I was thinking ma-”

Peter didn’t get to finish his question.

His Spidey-Sense rang out loud and clear, it screamed ‘danger’ in his mind, and it was ready for the danger to come before Peter had even realised something was wrong – his hands were automatically in the air, waiting for a blow to land.

Peter’s Spidey-Sense had always been a bit of a guessing game, when he was in a dangerous situation it was useful, when he was fighting an armed assailant he knew that it going off would mean that he was at risk of being stabbed or shot and he could move in time. If he was walking in a dark alley, it could mean that there was someone behind him, so he could turn around in time and they’d lose the element of surprise.

But sitting in the back seat of a car? There was no one following, no one with a knife, and Peter knew Happy had a gun but one quick glance at him showed his hands in the typical ten and two position on the steering wheel. Not that Happy would ever shoot him on purpose, not unless Peter was really, really annoying.

Peter saw the danger too late, his Spidey-Sense had warned him but it was pointless because as he looked out the window and saw the truck coming towards them, he realised there was nothing he could do.

The truck hit with a bone-trembling crash, Peter heard Happy take a sharp breath before cursing loudly and slamming his foot on the breaks. He wanted to tell him that it wouldn’t do anything, they’d already been hit.

Metal gave way, crumbling under the force of the truck and shards of glass rained down on Peter as the windows shattered.

Peter watched numbly as his backpack was tossed around on the backseat as the car was forced to the side because of the impact that had been delivered.  

He was pretty sure he was screaming, but he couldn’t focus on anything that was happening, there was too much noise and light and fear and pain.

Peter didn’t even realise he had been knocked out until he woke up, blinking slowly to remove something from his eyes. He was struggling to focus properly, everything seemed to be hazy and the lights were trailing like a glow stick being waved through the air by a child on a dark night.

He guessed that he hadn’t been out for very long as he was still in the car, strapped in to his seat, he could hear people outside walking around – emergency services must not have arrived yet, because they seemed cautious and unsure about how to proceed.

“Should we pull them out?”

“I don’t think you’re meant to move people with head injuries.”

“How do we know they have a head injury?”

“How do we know they don’t?”

“That kid looks in rough shape, he’s bleeding a lot.”

“I think he’s awake.”

Peter groaned, he assumed that he was the kid that they were talking about, was he bleeding? Where? Oh. He looked down and saw a large, twisted piece of metal protruding from his chest, that was where. As soon as Peter saw the metal, he felt the pain, it was burning and all consuming, he wanted to grit his teeth and be strong, but he couldn’t.

At the end of the day he was a kid, a kid with jagged metal sticking into his body and he couldn’t hold in the screams of pain.

He wanted to go home. He wanted his Aunt.

“Ah, Ha- Hap-py?” He asked between grunts and gasps of pain.

No answer.

“Happy, ow, ah, p-p-please, answer me.” Peter pleaded.

He tried his best to focus, to listen for Happy’s heartbeat but his own was pounding too fast to hear anything else past it. There was too much happening, too many people outside, the car was still creaking and groaning, there were sirens in the distance and Peter’s senses were unreliable when he was feeling so frantic and distracted.

He was just like any other person in that moment, he had no enhanced senses to offer him reassurances, he would just have to hope that Happy was alright until someone gave him a reason to believe otherwise.  

“Clear the way, let us through.”

Peter tried to relax a little as he heard the paramedics arrive, they would help Happy, they’d make sure he was alive, they had to, they had to.

“Kid?” Peter hadn’t realised that the car was on its side until he looked up and saw a paramedic peering through the side window which was now on top facing the overcast skies. “We’re going to get you out, alright, just hold tight.”

“N-n-no,” Peter stammered, “not me. H-Happy.”

“Happy?” the paramedic asked in confusion, obviously wondering whether Peter had hit his head during the accident, to be fair, maybe he had. A lot had happened and at some point, he’d lost consciousness.

“D-driver.” Peter tried to elaborate, oh god why couldn’t they just get it? Every word was hurting.

“Alright, Happy is the driver,” the paramedic said, “don’t worry, we have another team here helping him.”

Peter looked to the front to see that they were telling the truth, there was a paramedic leaning through the broken windscreen to check on Happy, how had he missed them? Were his senses really failing him so drastically?

“See, we’re helping him too, now we’re probably going to need to get the fire service to cut you out, but don’t worry they’re already here so it won’t take long, in the mean time I’m going to come down there and see what I can do to help you.”

Peter nodded, letting his eyes fluttered shut for a brief moment as he breathed through a spasm of pain caused by the movement of the car.

“What’s your name?” The paramedic asked.

“Peter.” He whispered, he was so tired, talking felt like too much energy.

“Alright Peter, now I’m coming down alright?”

He couldn’t bring himself to answer. He was so tired.

The exhaustion was heavy, and it seemed to weigh him down, maybe a nap would be the best thing for him, he would only close his eyes for a minute. It would be fine… just a minute. Someone was talking to him, but Peter was too busy falling asleep to care.

-

“Pete? Peter, come on Kiddo,” a familiar voice was determined to rouse Peter from his peaceful slumber, but he was just as determined to stay in the blissful land of sleep, “Peter, come on, wake up. Please.”

Whoever that was, they sure were persistent, it was mildly irritating.

“He frowned,” another voice chipped in, also familiar but Peter still couldn’t place who they were, “did you see that, he definitely frowned!”

“Peter? Can you hear us?”

“He’s moving his lips!”

“Open your eyes, Peter.”

Ugh! Peter complied, hoping that his irritation at being woken up was clear to see. Oh, it was May and Mr. Stark who had been talking, both of them standing over him and staring at him with expectant looks.

What were they waiting for?

“There he is,” May said softly, “you were beginning to worry us, sweetie.”

“Yeah, May over here was panicking like you wouldn’t believe.” Mr. Stark said, with a faint red hue across his cheeks, Peter was sure he could only see that thanks to his Spidey-Senses.

“Mhm,” May hummed, casting an unimpressed look at Mr. Stark, “I was the one panicking.”

“In my defence-”

“You have no defence,” May interrupted.

“I know, but a car accident?” Mr. Stark asked, Peter had the feeling that hadn’t been the first time he’d asked that question.

“A car accident?” Peter asked, trying to filter through hazy memories.

He couldn’t remember it properly, he could remember chatting to Ned and getting into the back of the Audi – Happy had been his usual grumpy self, but after that, everything was hazy and difficult to comprehend.

Happy.

“Wait,” Peter mumbled, interrupting whatever it had been that Mr. Stark was going to say, “is Happy alright?”

“Uh,” May faltered, looking to Mr. Stark for help. Peter’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, since when did May look to him for advice, what was going on?

“Happy was pretty badly hurt,” Mr. Stark said honestly, “he’s in surgery at the moment.”

“Surgery?” Peter asked.

“He’s strong.” Mr. Stark said, trying to reassure him but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and he looked as though he hadn’t slept in a while. They both did.

“How long ago was the accident?” Peter asked.

“A few days, you’ve been in and out of it since then, but you haven’t been able to retain much,” May told him, as she ran a hand through his curls, “the doctors say it’s just because of a bad concussion, and it won’t be permanent.”

“So you’ve told me all of this before?” Peter asked, feeling unnerved.

“Just bits and pieces, this is the longest you’ve managed to keep your eyes open so far.” Mr. Stark said.

“That sounds exhausting,” Peter mumbled, screwing up his nose only to find that there was something shoved up it.

“Don’t pull at that.” May said, gently guiding his hand away, “it’s just something to give you a little extra oxygen and a tube to give you nutrition.”

“Why do I need oxygen?” Peter asked. “I was in a car crash.”

“You were pretty beat up from the accident,” May said calmly, too calmly, she was obviously trying her best not to cause him any worry, “there was a piece of- uh, a piece of metal that stabbed you.”

“Ok,” Peter said, hoping that he appeared calm enough for her to continue, how had he reacted to this in the past? Had he been told about it before? How much of this was actually news to him?  

“It pierced your lung and caused it to collapse,” May said, “they called it, uh, a pneumothorax.”

“Oh.” Peter said.

So… he’d had a collapsed lung, that wasn’t too bad, right? He’d heard about them before, sure, they were dangerous, but he was in the hospital and being cared for, surely that meant he was safe.

“You’re taking this better than last time?” Mr. Stark said, looking pleased with that fact.

“How did I take it last time?” Peter wondered.

“Ugh, there was some panicking, from you and me,” May admitted, “you were convinced that you were suffocating.”

“But,” Peter paused, feeling unsure of himself, “I’m not, right?”

“No, but you did lose a lot of blood, so you’ve had a few transfusions and you should be weaned off the oxygen soon.” May told him.

“It’s weird.” Peter mumbled.

“What is, sweetie?”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Peter didn’t hear her reply, the sweet call of sleep was too much to resist, he fell into a peaceful slumber with the sound of May and Mr. Stark talking soothingly somewhere in the distance.

-

The next time Peter woke up, he was in darkness. His heart instantly jumped into action as he panicked and forgot where he was, the beeping from the monitor caused a dark mass to move from beside him.

“Hey, calm down, Underoos, it’s just me.” Mr. Stark. “You’re safe, you’re alright, it’s all ok.”

“I’m sorry.” Peter gasped, using the dim lights from some of the machines to focus on Mr. Stark’s face.

“Don’t apologise,” Mr. Stark said, quick to reassure him, “you’re in the hospital.”

“I know.” Peter said. “I remembered this time.”

“Oh, thank god.” Mr. Stark said, falling back against the chair in relief, Peter heard the small exhale of air from the force of hitting the backrest.

“I was just speaking to you and May?” Peter murmured, confused.

“You were, but you’re on some pretty hefty painkillers, Kiddo, you fell asleep for a few hours after that.” Mr. Stark told him.

“I don’t like feeling so tired.”

“It won’t be forever,” Mr. Stark said reassuringly, “in fact, your healing factor is doing amazing things for you right now. You’ll be home before you know it.”

That was right, Peter was Spider-Man, he had a healing factor that had probably saved his life. Happy, though, he didn’t.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter waited for the quiet hum to continue, “how is Happy doing?”

“He’s stable, he’s in the Intensive Care Unit, but they’re optimistic that he’ll be able to step down in the next day or two.” Mr. Stark said.

“Oh,” that was good, not that he was poorly enough to need the ICU, but that he was improving at least, “and May? Where is she?”

“She nipped home about an hour ago to grab a shower and some food, I promised to stay with you until she gets back.”

“Thank you.”

-

The next time Peter woke up, it was light, and the annoying tubing that was blowing dry air up his nostrils was gone. As was Mr. Stark. May had taken his place, curled up on an uncomfortable looking chair, with a book in one hand and a travel cup of coffee in the other – Peter could smell the faint hint of bitterness in the air, she was drinking coffee. That wasn’t like her, May said that coffee normally made her feel jittery.

“May?”

“Oh, sweetie, you’re awake,” she said, tossing her book aside and unfurling her legs so she could rush over to his side.

“This isn’t the hospital?” Peter was sure of that; he couldn’t smell the antiseptic in the air or hear the beeping of thousands of machines anymore.

“No, you’re stable enough that Tony managed to wrangle a transfer to the Med-Bay, although why they had to wait for you to be this stable is beyond me.” May muttered. “You have S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best doctors organising your care, they were looking after you in the hospital too because of your abilities, you could have been moved earlier.”

“I don’t need their best,” Peter mumbled, “I’m doing fine.”

May didn’t confirm or deny his statement, maybe she didn’t want to jinx anything or worry him, “do you want to try eating something?”

“Do they have jello?” Peter asked.

“Do they- of course they have jello, you do realise that this is Tony’s compound, right?” May asked with a teasing smile.

“Fair point,” Peter mumbled, blushing as May helped him sit up in the bed. Was he really so weak that he needed assistance to sit?

Ow.

“Too much?” May asked.

“No, it’s fine,” Peter lied, but he didn’t want her to overreact and lie him back down, he was hungry, “how long has it been since I’ve eaten?”

“A while, but they put that tube in your nose to make sure that you could still get some nutrients, because it just so happens that your metabolism means that you need quite a high intake.” May said. “Imagine my surprise at only hearing about this now.”

Oops.

“I, uh-”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to lecture you while you’re recovering.” May said, waving away his attempts to cover his ass. “Now, sit still, don’t do anything stupid, I’ll be back in a moment with your jello.”

“I never do anything st- well, not intentionally.”

-

“This is a bad idea,” Mr. Stark muttered as he pushed the wheelchair, “like, a really, really bad idea.”

“Shh, if you speak too loudly someone will catch us.” Peter said, scolding his mentor.

It had been two weeks since the accident, two weeks since one of the most difficult experiences of Peter’s life. It was, however, one of the best days Peter had had since the event. He’d been struggling a lot with pain and lethargy, every medical professional had told him that it was perfectly normal, and that he was lucky to have survived, but Peter was growing restless.

He supposed that it made sense to be taking a while to recover when he shouldn’t have made it out alive, but he was Spider-Man, it shouldn’t be taking so long.

He’d wanted to be discharged from the compound, May and Mr. Stark had wanted him to stay in bed, they’d compromised by waiting until May left for work and Mr. Stark smuggled Peter into a wheelchair and promised to take him to visit Happy.

“Maybe someone should catch us.” Mr. Stark muttered.

“I swear, if you’re planning to sabotage us…” Peter let the threat hang in the air.

“You’ll what?” Mr. Stark asked. “Throw your jello at me? Tell on me? Kid, you won’t do anything, and you don’t need to, I’m not sabotaging anything.”

“How is…” Peter paused. “How is Happy?”

“He’s doing well, considering everything,” Mr. Stark said quietly, “he’ll be glad to see you.”

Will he? Peter wondered, it’s my fault he got hurt, I was the one he was picking up from school.

Peter had been told the details of the crash; he knew that it was no fault of Happy’s. A drunk driver had run a red light. It had been that simple and yet, that complicated.

So, logically, there was no blame to be placed on Peter, but then, it was Peter’s fault Happy was in the car; he knew that Mr. Stark would argue with him if he voiced that belief, so he kept quiet, he wasn’t ready for any reassurances, nor did he deserve them.

“Alright, we’re just in here.” Mr. Stark said, as he pushed Peter into a dimly lit room.

Happy had suffered a bleed on the brain thanks to the accident, apparently, he was still getting severe migraines and they were triggered by harsh lights and loud noises.

“He’s sleeping,” Peter whispered, “should we come back later?”

“No.” Mr. Stark hadn’t been the one to answer that.

“Happy?” Peter asked quietly.

“Long time no see, Kid, you’re late.” Happy mumbled, Peter vaguely registered Mr. Stark stepping out to give them a moment.

“Late?” Peter asked, unable to stop the smile from appearing as he grabbed the wheels and pushed himself closer.

“Yeah, I was expecting your annoying face to appear days ago, I never thought I’d get more than 84 seconds of peace.”

“You missed me.” Peter realised.

“Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth,” Happy said, “I most definitely did not say that.”

“You did, you missed me,” Peter repeated, “that’s ok, I missed you too… I was, uh, really worried about you.”

“I was worried about you too, Kiddo, you alright? You don’t look yourself.” Happy said.

“I’m good, much better now than I was.” Peter said.

“Hmm.”

“Happy?” Peter asked, resisting the urge to lean forward and shake the man, “Happy? Uh, Mr. Stark!”

“What? Oh,” Mr. Stark had burst into the room when Peter had called, only to pause and look understandingly at him, “he’s just tired, Pete, he can’t stay awake for very long at the moment. Don’t worry, he’s just sleeping.”

“Oh,” Peter said simply, as he stared at Happy’s prone figure, “will he ever be back to normal?”

“Time will tell,” Mr. Stark said honestly, “the doctors seem optimistic, but they’re sure to let us know it’s a cautious optimism.”

“Can I go back to my room?” Peter asked, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Yeah, of course you can, Underoos.” Mr. Stark said gently, turning the chair to push Peter out the room.

Peter closed his eyes, he could still see Happy lying there, looking so still in the bed, so pale… so-

No.

He was alright, he had sassed Peter, he wouldn’t have done that if he was as bad as he looked. Peter hadn’t realised how much he missed that attitude, how much he missed bickering playfully with Happy.

He missed the older man, the guy who had become such a daily staple in his life. Had he taken his presence for granted? Was that why this had happened? As some sick cosmic way to tell Peter he needed to appreciate those in his life more? Peter didn’t know, maybe there was no reason for any of it to happen, maybe sometimes shitty things just occurred.

Peter knew he should be focusing his questions on the drunk driver – the guy who had managed to walk away with a few lacerations and a broken arm, the man who was at fault had suffered the least. Was Peter a bad person for wishing that guy had been hurt more? Not so much that he had died, but just enough so that he would understand what he’d done to Peter and Happy. Maybe he was, maybe he was too vindictive to be Spider-Man.

“There’s a lot of thinking going on in that head of yours.” Mr. Stark said as he pushed Peter, “care to share?”

Peter shrugged, changing the subject, “this isn’t the way to my room, where are we going?”

“I figured you could see the common area before going back to bed, I stocked that fridge with jello too,” Mr. Stark murmured.

“Oh, I don’t know, I don’t really want to run into the Avengers, not today.” Peter said, feeling guilty for not being excited about Mr. Stark’s kind gesture.

“You won’t, they’re all out on a mission.” Mr. Stark reassured him. “The only person you might bump into is Rhodey, and even then, that’s a slim possibility, he’s meant to be in the gym doing his physiotherapy.”

“Alright then,” Peter said quietly. That wasn’t so bad – he liked Mr. Rhodes, he’d met him a few times and he’d always met Mr. Stark’s chaotic energy with his own deceivingly calm one, they were funny to see together, “as long as there’s lime jello.”

“You’re a really weird kid.” Mr. Stark said.

“So you keep saying.”

“Who even likes lime jello?”

“I do,” Peter said with a pout.

Mr. Stark wheeled him into the common area, it was large and empty – just as promised.

“So,” Mr. Stark said, clicking the breaks on so he could go rootle about in the fridge, “what’s on your mind?”

Peter shrugged, staring at the tabletop until a green pot of jello slid in front of him, followed by a shiny metal spoon.

“Eat up, there’s plenty more where that one came from,” Mr. Stark said, “I’m telling you no one likes lime jello.”

“Well, I do,” Peter mumbled, peeling away the foil lid and crumpling it in a fist, “it’s the best flavour and it’s even better that no one else likes it because then I get it all to myself.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.” Mr, Stark said, taking a seat opposite Peter with his own pot of red Jello – so Mr. Stark was a strawberry guy, that figured.

“What are you trying to do?” Peter asked, narrowing his eyes at his mentor.

“What do you remember from the car accident?” Mr. Stark asked.

“Nothing.” Peter lied.

“Hmm, nope, I’m not buying that,” Mr. Stark said, “you’ve been having nightmares, you keep zoning out, you’re refusing to talk about anything to do with it… you remember.”

“Did May put you up to this?” Peter asked as he slurped jello off the spoon, trying to distract himself from what Mr. Stark was asking about.

Smoke… he could smell smoke all around him, and the sticky odour of engine oil mixing in with something metallic and…oh. Blood. Someone was bleeding, was it him? or Happy? Was Happy even alive? Was Peter?

“-concerned, like me, Underoos,” Peter blinked and tried to focus on Mr. Stark’s words rather than the memories of that afternoon, “we want to help you, we want to do whatever it takes to make you feel better.”

“Mr. Stark, I had a collapsed lung, numerous broken bones, contusions, lacerations, a concussion that caused me to lose days from my memories, and I needed multiple blood transfusions.” Peter said. “I get you guys want to make me feel better, but I almost died, there’s a good chance I would have without my Spider-Man abilities.”

“So, you feel like you shouldn’t be alive?” Mr. Stark asked.

“No…well, kinda, not like I wish I’d died or anything,” Peter was quick to reassure him, “just, if I was meant to die, didn’t I cheat?”

“Cheat?”

“Yeah, like I should be in just as bad shape as Happy is, but because of my abilities I’m sitting in the common area eating jello with you while Happy can barely stay awake for a five minute conversation. It feels unfair, he should be the one sitting here with you.”

“You want to swap places?” Mr. Stark asked, but Peter could tell he didn’t expect an answer. “Kiddo, you can’t think like that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want the same thing?” Peter wondered.

“Of course not!” Mr. Stark’s voice was loud and verging on shouting, it hurt Peter’s still tender brain. “I don’t want either of you to be in Happy’s position, and just because you can heal, doesn’t mean that you aren’t affected by the crash.”

“I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry for shouting, kid, but you’re not, you’re wishing you could swap with Happy.” Mr. Stark said. “You’re wishing for further injuries because you feel some sort of misguided guilt over what happened.”

“It’s not misguided!” Peter snapped, dropping his spoon on the desk with a clatter.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Stark asked gently, too gently, Peter broke.

“Happy should have never been there, I shouldn’t have been ten minutes late, I could have walked or got a bus or a taxi or swung over, I could hav-”

“Woah, woah, woah!” Mr. Stark interrupted. “Slow down, take a deep breath.”

Peter copied Mr. Stark’s exaggerated deep breaths, mimicking the man like he used to as a kid – back when Ben would applaud him for wearing one of his old suit jackets that hung down to Peter’s ankles and tripped him up as he paced back and forth in front of the TV quoting Tony Stark’s clean energy speeches.

“Peter…kiddo…you can’t tell me you think this was your fault?”

“Why not?” Peter asked numbly. “It was.”

“No, it wasn’t, it was George Hendersen’s fault. No one else’s.”

Huh, George Hendersen. It was such a normal name, the kind that a father, brother, son would have. Peter wondered how many people were left confused and pained over his actions? How many members of his family were trying to deal with the knowledge that he had gotten behind the wheel of his car, drunk?

“Why did he do it?” Peter asked, tears falling without his permission.

“Oh, kid,” Mr. Stark said, abandoning his red jello in favour of kneeling beside Peter’s wheelchair, “look at me-” he paused, waiting for Peter to comply, “I don’t know. I wish I did, I really do. I wish I could give you an answer that would make all the pain and fear make sense, but I don’t have anything to tell you.”

“I hate him.” Peter said, the words pouring out without any bite thanks to the sobs that escaped with them. “Is that wrong of me?”

“No,” Mr. Stark said, “hate is a real strong emotion, and my therapist would probably say it’s dangerous to hold onto hate, but personally I hate him too.”

“I wish he hadn’t done it.”

“Me too, kiddo, me too.” Mr. Stark said quietly, before holding his arms open, “come here.”

Peter fell into them easily, breathing in the familiar scent of cologne and grease, Mr. Stark wouldn’t let George Hendersen hurt him or Happy again.

-

“What do you mean he got community service?”

Peter’s head jumped off the pillow with a protesting throb at the shriek that seemed to pierce through his walls and door.

“May, calm down,” Mr. Stark’s voice was quieter, he was trying not to wake Peter, not that it mattered now, “you know I’m going to get Pepper and my best team of lawyers on the case.”

“How the fuck could this happen?” May asked, only a fraction quieter.

“He’s rich, white, and has connections.”

“He nearly killed two innocent people!”

Peter carefully slipped his legs out of bed, toeing on his slippers and inching towards the door.

“He will pay, even if it kills me, I’ll make sure that he pays for what he did to Pete and Hap.”

Peter opened the door, alerting May and Mr. Stark to the fact that he was awake. They cast glances at each other meaningfully before their expressions smoothed out, they were planning to keep it from him.

Did they think that he couldn’t handle this? That he would break down at the thought of his almost murderer walking about normally? His only punishment being that he was losing his free time to help clean the streets of New York or something. Would they even suggest rehab?

“Hey, morning Peter, I thought I’d drop by on my way to work,” May said with her familiar, easy smile.

“Look at you, up on your own!” Mr. Stark said looking proud. “How do you feel?”

“My leg aches a little, where the break was, but otherwise I’m alright,” Peter mumbled, looking between the two of them, come on, come clean and tell me.

“Well, sit yourself down, I’m making breakfast and you can take your painkillers.” Mr. Stark said.

“You’re making breakfast? You?” Peter asked as he hesitantly took a seat at the table.

“Hey!” Mr. Stark protested, flicking some pancake batter Peter’s way. It landed on his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m a great cook. Back when the Avengers were an actual team, me, Cap and Bruce would make huge meals. We could have fed an army; trust me Cap would have known.”

“Do you miss those days?” Peter asked, taking a sip of the glass of milk that was placed in front of him; Mr. Stark didn’t let him drink coffee. Apparently, he had his hands full enough without a caffeinated Spider-Kid sticking to his ceiling, Peter hadn’t mentioned that he had never been on the ceiling in the Compound…at least not that Mr. Stark had seen.

“Sometimes,” Mr. Stark replied with a shrug, “but I prefer these days more.”

May smiled, seemingly understanding whatever Mr. Stark had meant by that.

“You’re weird.” Peter declared, wiping the milk moustache away with the back of pyjama top’s sleeve.

“Peter!” May scolded in exasperation. “There’s a stack of napkins right there.”

“Oh, uh, sorry.”

Peter bluffed his way through breakfast and made his excuses to leave and shower as soon as he thought he would get away with it – too soon and they may have realised that he had been listening to their conversation.

“Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Peter asked quietly.

“Yes, Peter?”

“Uh, if I asked you to look someone up, would you tell on me?” Peter asked, feeling like a little kid trying to convince an older sibling not to tattle to mom.

“It depends on who you want me to look up and what information you would like to know about them.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. said.

“Oh, ok, so theoretically if I asked you to look up someone called George Hendersen, would you tell MR. Stark about that?” Peter asked.

“Yes, George Kieran Hendersen is on the list of people you are not allowed access to, and should you request it I will be forced to send an alert to Mr. Stark’s cell.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him.

“You haven’t though, right?” Peter asked quickly. “I wasn’t asking you to actually do it, I said ‘theoretically’.”

“Correct, the alert has not yet been sent.”

“Great, uh, thanks F.R.I.”

“No problem.”

Peter groaned and shoved his face in his pillow, of course Mr. Stark would put safeguard in place, this was the man who had created the baby monitor and training wheels protocols.

He knew Peter, but… he didn’t know Peter’s friends.

Peter pulled out his phone, typing out a quick text to his best friend:

‘Hey Ned, I need you to do me a favour and look up a George Kieran Hendersen pls’

Send.

Ned was probably at school, but that didn’t stop him from replying in a matter of seconds. Sorry dude, Mr. Stark already said I couldn’t.

Well, fuck…

Peter could have screamed into his pillow.

-

Blood. There was blood everywhere, it was surrounding Peter, preparing to drown him and he couldn’t breathe. He was covered in the thick dark red liquid. It filled every gap and stained everything around him.

He was in the car, the Audi, but it didn’t look like it normally did. The silver paintwork was coated in the sickening red liquid, and the metal frame was twisted and jagged; it looked sharp and ready to bite Peter.

“Happy, we need to stop, this is wrong.” Peter said, from his place in the back seat.

Happy couldn’t hear him.

The glass shattered.

“Happy, we need to stop, something bad is going to happen.” Peter continued.

He still couldn’t hear Peter, he needed to get closer, Peter pushed the button to release his seatbelt but it nothing happened. He jammed his finger against it repeatedly, trying his hardest to free himself from the strangling hold it had on him.

“Happy, please, stop the car, he’s going to hit us.” Peter begged. “Please! Stop! Stop the car! Stop the c-”

“-eter! Peter! Come on kiddo, that’s it, come on,” Mr. Stark’s voice pulled him from the blood filled, twisted car.

“Misser Star’?” Peter slurred in confusion, before the panic brought him back to consciousness faster. “Blood, I’m covered in blood, and I can’t move.”

“There’s no blood kiddo.”

“No blood?” Peter mumbled out the question in confusion, how was that possible? He could feel it, it was everywhere. He was covered in it.

“No blood.” Mr. Stark confirmed. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. can you turn the lights up please?”

Peter blinked against the harsh light but allowed Mr. Stark to pull him up into a sitting position, still leaning heavily against the older man.

“Look, kiddo, no blood.” Mr. Stark confirmed.

He was right. “But it was so real?” Peter marvelled, running a hand over his t-shirt, trying to find traces of the red liquid that he had been so convinced was there.

“Nightmares will do that to you, kiddo.”

“It wasn’t a nightmare.” Peter mumbled.

“No?” Mr. Stark asked, “what would you call it then?”

“I uh, I don’t know,” Peter mumbled. “I’m fine though, I’m completely fine.”

“Come on,” Mr. Stark said, standing up and holding out a hand to pull Peter up off the bed.

“Where are we going?” Peter asked.

“Well, me and Happy were having hot cocoa and I figure you’d benefit from joining us.” Mr. Stark said.

“You guys are having hot cocoa?” Peter asked in confusion.

“He’s still getting migraines and I’m meant to be caffeine free after 6pm.” Mr. Stark said with a shrug.

Happy had been improving, slowly but surely, it had been a month since the accident and Peter was physically all better, but he refused to leave the compound until he knew that Happy was better. Thankfully, Mr. Stark had been able to use his influence to organise online classes for Peter to complete the year and May had understood.

Peter was lucky.

Happy was lucky.

So why wasn’t it good enough? Why was he still faced with the nightmares and the memories? Why did he flinch when a car honked its horn? Why did he wish he had taken Happy’s place? Why did he wish Hendersen could feel the same pain they had felt?

“It’s a bit late for you to be up.” Happy commented as Peter sat opposite him, Peter followed his gaze to the clock – 01:21 – huh, maybe it was a little late.

“One hot cocoa coming right up, peppermint free for the spider.” Mr. Stark announced as he rummaged in the fridge for milk.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Peter lied to Happy.

“Yes, you could,” Happy corrected, “you just couldn’t forget.”

“Can you?” Peter asked.

Maybe 1am was the time to be honest, maybe when the safety of daylight was gone, the night-time allowed them to be vulnerable with each other.

“No.” Happy said gruffly. “Honestly, I can’t forget any of it, and I’ll never stop feeling sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” Peter asked, frowning to himself.

“For not stopping in time.” Happy said.

“The light was green; you were right to go.” Peter said, staring at Mr. Stark’s back as he did so, he couldn’t meet Happy’s gaze. He couldn’t look him in the eye while knowing that he was the reason that the accident had happened.

“I saw the truck coming.” Happy said. “I just couldn’t do anything in time, I couldn’t stop quick enough or swerve out of the way. I could have killed you kid, because I couldn’t do anything other than panic.”

“Happy…” Peter paused, trying to work through everything that he’d just heard. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard you say, and you told me you hate froyo.”

“Yeah, me and Hap have been trying to work through his misguided guilt over the accident.” Mr. stark said, placing a mug in front of Peter.

“It’s not misguided.”

“You’re right, it’s completely unwarranted.” Mr. Stark said.

Wait. What?

“Happy, no,” Peter interrupted, “you don’t need to feel guilty, none of this was your fault. It was mine. I should have been on time after Decathlon practice, I should have been ten minutes earlier and then we wouldn’t have been at that intersection at the same time as Hendersen, I should have gotten to the tower some other way. You are Mr. Stark’s head of security; you shouldn’t be chasing me around the city or chauffeuring me back and forth between here and Queens.”

“Kid, Happy is the only one I would trust with you.” Mr. Stark said. “Both of you need to get off your self-sacrificial high horses and accept that the only person who should be taking any blame for this is the guy who decided to drive whilst drunk.”

“Tony told me you were trying to look him up.” Happy said quietly.

Peter’s gaze shot to Mr. Stark who was purposefully looking at the countertop, he knew? Why hadn’t he said anything?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. you’re a traitor.” Peter mumbled.

“I did not tell Mr. Stark about your theoretical enquiry.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. informed him.

“You didn’t?”

“No, she didn’t, it was Ned.” Mr. Stark said.

“Ned?” Peter asked, betrayed by his own best friend.

“Yeah, he’s worried about you, you’ve been dodging his calls, ignoring his texts and then you randomly messaged him asking him to trace the person who hit you and Happy.” Mr. Stark said. “I think he’s pretty right to be worried.”

“I’m fine.” Peter said.

“No, you’re not.” Mr. Stark interrupted.

“I am.”

“You’re not,” Happy said, “and I know, because I’m not either.”

“You- you’re not?” Peter asked.

“Not at all, Kiddo.”

-

Two long, difficult months had passed since the accident. Peter was doing fine, he really was, despite what Happy and Mr. Stark said. He was going out as Spider-Man for a couple of hours each evening, he was meeting his friends once or twice a week and he was planning to ask MJ on a date.

He was fine.

Sure, he was still having nightmares, he refused to get in a car, and he would freak out at the sight of blood – which in retrospect made being Spider-Man slightly more difficult, but he was doing fine.

He didn’t really understand why he was still having so many ‘problems’.

He was alive.

He should be grateful for that; he knew that Happy was. Happy was even driving around the Compound, he wasn’t quite at the point where he could drive the streets of New York, but he was certainly doing well within private grounds.

May had brought up the subject of him moving back into the apartment a few times, and Peter wanted to, he really did, but every time he ventured into the city there were cars everywhere. They were loud, their tyres would screech, and horns would blare. Even though Peter wasn’t in them, he was scared.

He knew he was worrying everyone.

He was worrying himself.

“Peter, this isn’t your normal patrol area.” Karen said, interrupting Peter’s thoughts.

“I know, K, I just have something to do here,” Peter mumbled, as he scaled a building, eyes fixed on the balcony that he remembered from his computer screen, “it won’t take long.”

“Would you like me to alert Mr. Stark to your detour?”

“What? No! why would I want that?” Peter asked, irritation staining his tone. Why was everyone so ready to snitch on him?

“Just in case back up was required.” Karen said. “But your wishes have been noted.”

“Thanks, I promise, we’ll be back to our normal patrols soon.”

By normal – peter did not mean normal at all – he meant a short patrol in a low traffic area of town. He wasn’t ready to handle car accidents and hijackings just yet. Soon, but not right now.

The door to the balcony was slightly open, obviously the man inside hadn’t expected anyone to climb up to the seventh floor, after all, why would he?

“No, no, no, Jennifer, stop, think about this.” A man pleaded, he sounded so normal.

“I can’t do this anymore George,” Jennifer said, “I just can’t, you don’t even have any remorse.”

“I have plenty of remorse!” George shouted. Peter flinched. “I’m not allowed to drive anymore, my job laid me off, you and the kids have been so distant lately and that fucker, Stark, is still coming for me.”

“They’re all consequences.” Jennifer said. “That’s not remorse for your actions.”

“What more do you want?”

“I want you to look fucking sorry, that kid you hit? Stark’s intern? He’s the same age as your daughter.”

“I know that!”

“Why don’t you care?”

“He’s fine, he’s got Stark’s money, he won’t even care at this point.”

“This is about money?”

“No, it’s about you being a fucking judgemental bitch when you’ve made mistakes.” George shouted.

“Yeah, my biggest one was marrying you!”

SLAM

Huh, maybe Hendersen wasn’t as happy as Peter had thought, but still, he wasn’t as guilty as he’d hoped. He didn’t even seem to care that he was drunk driving, he only cared that he had been caught.

“Hey, Karen?” Peter whispered.

“I’m here.”

“Can you tell Mr. Stark that I’ll be home early tonight?” Peter asked.

“Sure thing.”

Peter had meant to confront Hendersen, to shout at him and tell him how much his actions had hurt Peter and his family, but now it seemed pointless. If Hendersen’s wife wasn’t getting through to him, why would he care what Peter had to say? Why would he care that Peter was still traumatised and scared? He wouldn’t.

Peter had heard the cocky edge to his voice, he knew that nothing he said would break through. It was pointless.

But peter wanted to be better.

Thwip

Thwip

He wanted to be the old Peter, the one who had carelessly thrown his backpack in the car and jumped in behind it. The one who knew accidents happened but never thought that any would happen to him.

Nobody ever does, Peter thought bitterly, as he ran out of trees to swing from and resorted to trudging the last few miles to the Compound.

“Hey, Pete,” a metallic voice said from beside him causing him to jump nearly a mile out of his skin, why hadn’t he heard him approach? Was he that off his game?

“Mr. Stark.”

“Karen said you’d be early.” Mr. Stark said, the suit retracting so he could walk beside Peter.

“Yeah, I told her to.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Mr. Stark asked.

Did he?

Not really.

Yes.

“I went to Hendersen’s apartment.” Peter admitted. He heard Mr. Stark’s sharp inhale, but was grateful that he wasn’t interrupting, instead he was letting Peter talk. “I know I shouldn’t have. It was stupid.”

Peter pulled his mask off, he was on the Compound grounds, there wouldn’t be anyone going about to see him.

“It was.” Mr. Stark agreed.

“I didn’t speak to him.” Peter said. “I just stood outside; he was arguing with his wife.”

He has a wife, and kids, he’s such an ordinary man.

“Did it help?”

“No.” Peter said simply. “I want to hate him. I wanted to talk to him and make him hurt as much as I did, but then I heard him talking to his wife and I don’t know anymore. I don’t think that any amount of talking would help. He was a bad guy.”

“It’s not fair.” Mr. Stark said.

“I don’t know what I wanted.” Peter admitted. “I guess I’m just fed up of feeling like this.”

“Scared?”

“Always.” Peter mumbled. “It was a car accident, people have them all the time, why can’t I just get over it?”

“because you’re a kid, and it was scary and it’s not something you’re going to be able to forget about quickly.” Mr. Stark said.

“I should be stronger.”

“You’re plenty strong.” Mr. Stark said. “You’re the strongest kid I know, in fact you’re stronger than most adults.”

“But-”

“No buts on this on, Underoos.” Mr. Stark said.

“Aren’t I making your life harder by being here though?”

“Not in the slightest, I love having you here, just ask Pepper and May.” Mr. Stark said. “I’d keep you if I could.”

“I’d stay if I could.” Peter admitted. “I’m scared to go back to May’s.”

“Have you thought anymore on my offer of therapy?” Mr. Stark asked.

“I have…” Peter said, hesitating, he didn’t want to take Mr. Stark’s money, but… “I think I want to go for it.”

“I’ll support you every step of the way, Kiddo.” Mr. Stark promised.

“I know.” Peter said. “I heard something else at Hendersen’s… he said you were going after him?”

“Damn right I am,” Mr. Stark said, ruffling Peter’s hair, “he hurt one of my closest friends and my kid.”

[ourcrazym]

Breakable.

Saints Row Series. Female boss because why not? Shaundi processes how Gat’s death hit Boss

She can barely keep her eyes open as they pull up to the HQ.

“Nice going today, Boss.” Pierce tells her. “The Morningstar are about to get their asses handed to them.”

Shaundi huffs. She had no interest in Zimos or his ho business anyway. Pierce pays her no attention. They get out of their car. A saint comes in and takes the car away for parking.

“Anyways, catch ya later.” Pierce says in a way that sounds he needed to be somewhere.

“Game of chess with Oleg?” The boss asks.

“Hell yeah.” Pierce quips and leaves. Shaundi follows her into the lift. The boss leans against the metal wall of the lift. The mission was simple, they just had to blow up some shit, as Gat would have said.

Shaundi was leaning against the wall herself.

“You doin’ alright?” She asks her.

Shaundi’s shoulders are tensed.

“I’m okay.” She says. There is a pause and she moves like she’s shaking someone’s hand off her shoulder. “I could have killed more Morningstar.”

“Me too. Its never enough.” The boss admits. Shaundi glances over the leader of the saints, and she notices the boss’ eyes were half lidded, and she looked tired.

“You need sleep.” Shaundi remarks.

“I sleep enough at night.” 

“Just take a nap.” She says as the door opens.

“Yeah...” The boss trails off and makes a beeline for her bed. Shaundi was feeling a snack and opens the fridge. She walks to the Boss’ bedroom to ask.

“Hey boss you want-” She begins but stops when she notices her out cold on the bed. She hadn’t even bothered to take off the shoes and was splayed at an angle.

Shaundi lets her be.

*

Pierce scoots to the side just in time for Shaundi to leap over the barricade and dodge a hail of fire coming her way. She peeks from the side to check if their Boss was doing okay.

Boss was trying to take down the nearest Decker and throws a punch, but it was so pathetic Shaundi wanted to laugh. She doesn’t have it in her to laugh, and her stomach lurches when the Decker hits back. The butt of the rifle lands squarely on the jaw and Shaundi doesn’t like the way she falls.

“Boss!” Pierce shouts and cuts down the Decker in a shower of bullets before Boss gets shot. Pierce pulls her to safety.

“She’s out cold.” Pierce says and lightly pats her face to wake her up. “W-what the fuck?”

“What happened?”

“She’s burning up.” Pierce says, and puts his palm on her forehead. He fires up the radio. “Oleg, I need help, Boss ain’t looking right.”

“I will be there shortly.” Oleg replies. Soon he’s there in all his might, making short work of the Deckers. He picks up the Boss, who was still unconscious. “She has high fever.”

“No shit!” Pierce says, looking feverishly for a car. “We need to get her to a doctor.”

A saint brings them a car and they speed away. Pierce was on the wheel. He didn’t play music.

“Shaundi, just open up her collar buttons, air her out.” Pierce says and Shaundi begins to unbutton the shirt. 

“What the fuck.” She breathes out, her face going pale.

*

They stand up when the doctor walks out of the room.

“She okay?” Pierce asks.

The doctor shakes her head. “She’s very, very far from okay.”

“What happened?” Shaundi bursts forward, edging ahead of Pierce, being as loud as a hospital would let her be.

The doctor raises the clipboard she had in her hand. “Where do I even begin...severe overexertion, low blood pressure because of blood loss here and there, and a lot, I mean a lot of unhealed or half-healed injuries. Some wounds are septic to an extent as well. Covering herself in bandages meant she was’t letting the injuries air out much.”

“Septic?” Pierce asks.

“It means the wounds were starting to get infected.” Oleg explains, looming behind them with a thoughtful expression on his face. The doctor nods in agreement.

“She was basically running on adrenaline and luck.” The doctor says. “Luckily you brought her in before either ran out.”

Pierce lowers his eyes. Shaundi was paler than anyone had ever seen her be. She sits down on the bench and buries her face in her hands. First Gat, now Boss? Her mind was swimming.

“Just give her some time to recover, she will be back to normal in no time.”

“Sure.” Pierce says, taking the lead here. He takes the other two away. “Take care of her, doc.”

*

When Boss opens her eyes, Shaundi is sitting by the bed, looking into the distance. She notices that her cheeks had trails, and she was missing makeup. Was she crying?

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She asks, low and hurt deeply.

“Tell you what?”

“That you were beating yourself up like this?”

“They were just smal-”

“They were not fucking dings and bruises!” She hisses. “You passed out!”

She says nothing. Shaundi looks like she could cry any moment.

“Its been too soon, Boss. Too soon after losing Johnny to lose you too.”

She decides to not talk.

“You always run face first into trouble like a fucking moron. Always fucking doing small jobs others could do so easy. I have never seen Killbane or fucking Matt Miller drive hookers around while they sold themselves off in the back seat. I have never seen them do small shit like errand boys, and yet here you are.”

“What’s your point?” She asks, slightly ruffled.

“I-I don’t want to lose you too just because you were too-”

“And do what, huh? Sit around and watch you, Pierce, or any fucking saint for that matter fucking get gunned? This gang is the only fucking thing I have ever had and you want me to just fucking sit around?”

Shaundi’s lip quivers.

“Answer me, for fuck’s sake.”

She stands up and leaves. Pierce is leaning on the wall right beside the door.

“Man, you the dumbest motherfucker I ever seen.” He says.

“What do you mean?” Shaundi says, closing the door behind her. Her eyebrows were knotted, but she didn’t have it in her to be angry.

“You really thought she did what she did just because?” He says, pushing off the wall and walking away to let Boss rest. Shaundi follows her to the car, which a saint had dropped off for them. “Thanks man.” Pierce says to the saint, who smiles like he had seen god. The two enter the car. Pierce drives off slowly. This time, he does play a song, but he doesn’t sing along.

“What did you mean back there?” Shaundi broaches the subject again.

“Come on, think a little.” Pierce says. “What could be tying her up in knots?”

It hits Shaundi like a truck, Pierce was watching her expression carefully.

“She thinks she killed Gat.”

“Exactly.” He confirms. “And she’s been beating herself up ever since. Hell, I’d say she’s been trying to kill herself.”

Shaundi turns to him with such force that it makes pierce flinch. Her eyes were wide with disbelief.

“What, you didn’t notice it?” Pierce has a disbelief to match. “I mean, sure, her way is different, throwing herself into enemy fire, hanging off a chopper shooting rockets at cars and choppers shooting back.”

Shaundi takes a moment to process it all.

“Listen, thing is, she hates not having control, and its killing her that she couldn’t save Johnny. Suicidal or not, there is no way in hell she is letting any more of her friends die on her watch.” He says, taking a turn. “But at the same fucking time she knows she can’t keep us tied to her.”

Shaundi feels like her stomach doesn’t exist anymore. Or she dropped it halfway.

“Literally the only reason she is in the saints was so she could watch over people, keep them safe. And damn, she has failed some times. She still beats herself up when she mentions Lin or hell, even Carlos.”

Shaundi remembered the fondness Boss had toward Carlos. She treated him like a little brother she never had, always having extra patience toward him, whereas she would have torn Pierce or even her to shreds. Shaundi couldn’t imagine how she would have felt when she had to put a bullet in Carlos.

“She’s hurting, isn’t she?” 

“Oh she’s hurting bad.” Pierce says. Shaundi realizes they were driving along for the sake of it, there was nowhere he actually wanted to be right now.

“What do we do?”

“Take care of her.”

“Oh, so be a homey bitch and cook her pancakes for breakfast?” Shaundi asks, her temper flaring.

“Girl, you really are dumb sometimes.”

Shaundi quietens.

“You gotta take care of her the only way you know how. Be yourself, find out what she likes doing with you.”

“How do you do it?”

“Well, for starters,” Pierce says, fiddling with the knob on the audio and places it right on a radio station, “we put on music, and sing along. Give ourselves a little break. You know, loosen up a little. You could use that.”

“I’m not singing.” 

“Well, I didn’t ask.” Pierce says. “Put the hook together for me, I know you know it.”

Shaundi can’t fight her smile back, no matter how hard she tries.

[robin-the-enby]

Ghostly touches

Pairing: Arthur x Erika (basically just an x reader, but it's a gift for her)

Warnings: just fluff (wow what a shocker)

A/N: This is a gift for a fallen angel @ajokeformur-ray who is struggling and angels shouldn't struggle, so I decided to do something nice for her. Go read her works, she is so talented and reading her Joker fics is like reading the finest poetry, trust me.

To be honest, I'm really anxious, because your dream about Arthur inspired me, but my mind is swirling with thoughts like 'You got it all wrong' and 'Your writing yould never compare' and 'There are too many grammar mistakes' but I hope so much that this will help you at least a little bit. I wish you the best, because you deserve it. To be honest, it's getting bad again (for me I mean) and it breaks me to see that people around me, like you for example, are so stressed, so I'll do my best to be there for you and I hope you like this.

You two will be together forever <3

* * * * *

The whole apartment was silent as Arthur sat on his old sofa. The Murray show had ended a while ago and after putting his mother to bed he turned it off, as to not disturb her.

Now he was just sitting, deep in his thoughts. Surprisingly, they weren't those dark thoughts that attacked him all day long, twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. No, right now, his thoughts were more...philosophical.

Lately, strange things have been happening to him.

Sometimes, when he'd wake up, his bed would feel warmer than on other mornings.

Sometimes, he'd feel ghostly touches, like a pair of lips on his neck, cheek, nose or forehead or he'd feel something envelop his hand, a strange, but pleasant heat, that surprisingly brought him comfort.

When it first happened, months and months ago, he nearly jumped out of his skin, terrified it was one of the hallucinations his cruel mind tormented him with.

He mentioned it to the social worker he went to, but she didn't provide much help, only told him that increasing the amount of one of the many pills he took was the only thing she could do for him.

He was even more scared when he found out it didn't help at all, when one night he felt a slight weight on his shoulder, like if someone would rest their head on it.

Over the time though, he became more and more comfortable with it, even started to look forward to another ghost hug.

That's what he decided to call them - ghost hugs. The reason was simple. The more comfortable he was, the more of the touches he felt. Instead of just the weight of someone's head on his shoulder, he could feel something similar to arms wrapping around his waist.

Every time this happened, he felt an overwhelming amount of an emotion that could be described as comfort or maybe even as happiness and couldn't help himself bug hug back, or at least try to. Even though there wasn't a physical body he could accidentaly hurt, he still acted as if there was, the place between his arms always big enough for exactly one person to fit in, but Arthur couldn't help but feel that he was already hugging his invisible ghost.

That was all that he could feel though. Touches so soft that if he wasn't paying attention he wouldn't even know they were there, but nothing more.

Untill the night before this one that is.

Arthur couldn't help but smile. Smile a far away smile, his eyes would tell anyone who'd look that right now, he was anywhere but the sofa he was sitting on.

The previous night he went to bed strangely tired. Not tired of work, of life, of existence itself, but that type of tired when you know for sure that the second your head hits the pillow, you're out.

And that's exactly what happened. The fact that Arthur slept was surprising in itself, but what happened after, the dream he had, the reason he was now sitting still like a rock on his old sofa, was even more surprising.

In that dream, he was standing in the middle of a sidewalk and for a rew seconds he was confused. What was he doing there?

And just then, a wave of adrenaline hit him like a truck. Arthur was suddenly overcome with the feeling where you know you have to be somewhere, but you don't know where exactly.

And because it was a dream, and dreams do whatever they want with us, he ran. He didn't know where, he couldn't even look around himself to see where he was, which part of city this was, the faces of people around him were all just a blur, it was like he was just a passanger in his own body, but it couldn't have been, because there was a strong pull he felt in his heart, as if the organ was the thing controlling him.

In the distance, he saw a bus stop. And at that bus stop, there was a bus and something was telling him that it's about to take off.

His heart soared with the same feeling he felt when he'd wrap his arms around his ghost and he forced his legs to move faster, despite the growing anxiety telling him it's for nothing, stop, you won't make it.

But he did. He didn't even feel out of breath, his legs didn't ache, even though he'd just ran what felt like a marathon. No, instead, he felt calm, he felt...confident, as he got in the bus and searched the passengers for...he didn't even know who, but he was sure when he'll find them, he will know it's them.

It almost felt like a game of hide and seek and he smiled smugly to himself at the idea. And just then, he saw her.

Although others wouldn't probably notice her, to him, she stood out from all the people on the bus. She was looking at him with a radiant yet soft smile and her eyes shone with little galaxies in them.

The sun that so rarely showed itself in this forsaken city and now shone through the window created what looked almost like a halo above her head and he knew.

It was her. He just knew it. He came over to her and like by a miracle, the seat next to her wasn't taken. He plopped down eagerly and just like she had done so many times these past months, he rested his head gently on her shoulder, his hand searching for her own.

At the first skin to skin contact he knew definitely it was her, she was his ghost, for those feelings he felt whenever she touched him through the different worlds they lived in came back, but ten times stronger and more intense.

And that was what he was thinking about right now. This couldn't have been just a hallucination. He heard somewhere that your mind can't create people in your dreams and he was sure he'd never seen her.

But it felt right. She felt right. Looking at her felt right, touching her felt right, feeling her presence felt so right, Arthur was sure nothing had ever felt this right before.

When Arthur woke up the next morning, his bed felt warm like with another body present, again, but now he could picture her laying next to him, her face so angelic as she rested her head on the pillow and he gently caressed the spot where her cheek would be and very surely was, just in another world.

[damonsbitchx]

Florida Burn (P1)

Summary: This is kind of written like the beginning of New Moon, but Bella leaves Forks instead of staying and falling in love with Jacob. I don’t know how many parts I’ll make of this! My prompt image was pulled off of Pinterest. I also want you all to know I wrote this listening to “Possibility” by Lykke Li the absolute entire time. It made me cry while I proofread it because I read it out loud.

Characters: Bella, Charlie, Renee briefly on the phone

Word count: 3,385 (oops)

If you would like to be on a tag list send me an ask with the @ you want me to use!!

Prompt(s): The prompt is bolded but slightly altered in the fic.

     Charlie helped me lift my damp, aching body up from the couch after everyone left. He weaved his arm around my waist and began to help guide me to the stairs. I glanced at the digital clock on the stove as we trudged past the kitchen, the green numbers read 12:38. I wonder how long I’d been out in the woods.

“You should change your clothes Bell,” Charlie suggested gently once we’d reached my room.

     I nodded once, my blank face unchanging, my eyes focusing on nothing in particular around my dark room. I had no idea when I had finally stopped shaking but I was reminded by the shiver that rolled up my spine that forced me to notice how cold I was. I hugged my torso, dragging my feet a few paces forward to stand by the edge of my bed where I’d left my comfy old sweats. I could still feel Charlie’s eyes on me so I turned slowly and forced myself to look up at his face. His expression was furrowed with concern as he stood in my doorway without a sign of moving yet. I pushed my facial features into what I hoped was a smile good enough to convince him I was fine now and he could go to bed. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” he asked, his voice cracking subtly at the end.

     He better not cry. I shook my head once, redirecting my gaze to my sweats so I could grab them. I held them up to him with another one of what I hoped was a smile and began making my way back to the door frame. I walked past him heading to the bathroom and he didn’t say anything else. Once I was past him my face dropped blank again as I slipped into the bathroom and shut the door, flipping on the light so I wouldn’t fall or knock anything over. I heard Charlie’s socked feet pad across the hall to his room and then it was silent. I sighed heavily, glancing up at my reflection in the mirror, grimacing at what a mess I was.

     I made haste in turning on the shower so it would warm up faster and also to give my brain less of a chance to process the events from the past 24 hours. I quickly began peeling my damp clothes off my body, shuddering each time more damp skin would hit the cool air raising goosebumps all over. As soon as I’d finished I launched myself into the shower, shocking my cold skin with the boiling hot stream of water. Then, I stood there. I didn’t move for a long time. I just stood under the warm spray of the shower, letting my skin soak it up like it was the Arizona rays of sun I once missed so much. My mind was vacant, my chest felt empty, my body felt heavy. At some point, I decided to sit down before I fell. 

     I’m not sure how long I was there, but the only thing bringing me back to a conscious level of existence was the feeling of the water beginning to get colder and sting my back. So, I shut it off and shoved myself up into a standing position again. I swiped a towel from under the sink, wrapped myself in it and turned to the cupboard to grab my bag of toiletries. I took extra care in brushing and braiding my hair, applying lotion, washing my face, brushing my teeth. Anything I could do to keep my mind occupied was necessary. Once I’d used nearly every item in that bag, even items I’ve never actually used except maybe once in my life, I dropped my towel and pulled on my sweatpants and T-shirt. Desperate to keep my mind occupied and put off whatever world of hurt was waiting for me, I wadded up my wet towel and clothes from earlier to take downstairs and put in the wash. The clock in the kitchen read 1:32 now. I was almost completely sure it had been longer than that and the disappointment made me frown. I sighed and shoved the clothes into the washer, turned it on, then trudged back up the stairs. I hesitated in my doorway for a moment, looking around my room as if I was searching for something, but I couldn’t think of what it was. Then, I climbed under my covers and positioned myself onto my back to see if I could sleep. 

     I was afraid that if I laid down everything would come flooding back to me, but it didn’t. I just laid there in the silence, in the dark, and I stared at the ceiling. My mind was more blank than ever, my body felt hollow inside, like just the weight of my skin made it cave in on itself. I felt numb and empty, tired but not enough to sleep. So I simply laid there waiting for the memories to catch up. 

     They didn’t have a chance before the dim light of the early morning sun began to shine through the wall of trees into my bedroom window that I hadn’t bothered to close. I faintly heard Charlie rustling around, probably getting ready to go fishing like he does every Saturday with Harry Clearwater. I shut my eyes when I heard him coming to peek in at me, pretending to be asleep until I heard the door click shut again. I pulled my eyes open and I half expected to see something new this time, but everything was still the same. It was dark and gloomy outside with a thick covering of clouds stretching over as far as I could see. I continued to lay this way for another indistinguishable amount of time. I listened to the sounds of Charlie moving things around downstairs, open and shut the front door, lock it, and then I heard Harry’s truck roar to life and drive away. I was alone. 

     I immediately felt a searing pain in my chest as if I’d just used hand sanitizer with a bunch of paper cuts on my hand. The burn worked its way up and stung my eyes. I only remember being so confused as to why I was about to cry. Nothing had changed, my mind was still blank, I hadn’t moved from the same spot, nothing had happened. My arms shot across my torso and squeezed tight as I turned over onto my side and scrunched up, thick sobs now ripping from my body. My body shook with tremors like earthquakes that forced the memories into my mind as I gasped and coughed for air. There was no one to save me now. 

      My life went on similar to this for a couple months. I was fine when I was around people, but when I was left alone the pool of magma would devour me. Although I eventually got better at managing the pain, some days were just worse than others. Some days my body would burn with anger. Anger at him for leaving me instead of staying and trying to make it work. Anger at myself for being so stupid and clumsy. Anger at Alice for not foreseeing me cutting my finger and preventing it, anger at Charlie for being so calm and accepting of my wallowing. Just red hot anger was all I could feel some days. Other days it was just deep blue and grey with sadness and shame, perhaps even depression. Some days the burn would come from shame for letting this affect me so deeply, despair for myself, despair for hurting him. I blamed myself the most, there were no questions about it. As time went on I could let myself think about more details before the right ones finally knocked me off-kilter again. I would think about my birthday, rake over every tiny little detail and imagine what I could have done, what I should have done, to prevent what happened that night. If I wasn’t so clumsy and stupid maybe they wouldn’t have left me. Maybe he would still want me. 

      That was the part that burned the wildest in the beginning whenever the thought crossed my mind, that he no longer wanted me. Those words he spoke that night paralyzed me for weeks after. I didn’t go back to school until midway through October when Charlie finally decided he’d had enough of my moping. Even going back to school burned my chest. He was everywhere I looked but I also couldn’t find him anywhere anymore. I would shove his biology chair deep under the table and sit right in the middle, but I could still feel the ghost of his gaze on me. During lunch, I’d sit at our lunch table by myself, but I never ate. Some part of me wanted to stay close to his memory, but the other parts of me wanted to get as far away as possible. I parked in their spot every time I’d come to school and after a while, my friends stopped trying to coax me back out of the hole I’d dug for myself because I brushed them off every time they tried. I knew they talked about me, sometimes I would hear them during lunch when they thought I couldn’t. Angela was always sympathetic and tried to defend my bubble I locked myself in when Jessica and Lauren would spit out snarky remarks about my moping. I missed her the most, but I was no good for her, she deserved a better friend than me. I wished I could tell her thank you for sticking up for me even after I’ve been such a bad friend to her.

     Although I was pretty much useless at school, I still had to convince Charlie that I was okay. So, after a while when my thoughts didn’t hurt as much I found that I could at least go through the motions. I started hanging out downstairs with Charlie more and actually doing my homework. On weekends when he was gone during the day I would spend my time in my bed or sitting by my window and sometimes I’d read. On weekdays I would go to school like normal and I always made sure dinner was on the table when Charlie got home. My homework was always finished before I went to bed every night and I did it downstairs in the living room while Charlie watched whatever game was on TV. Those were the only things I found that I could use to occupy my mind with and, even then, small fragments of memories still found a way in through the cracks. I tried my best not to let myself fall asleep most nights because every time I did I would wake up screaming from my nightmare, but it wasn’t just a nightmare- not anymore.

     It always started out the same. It was me laying in my bed at night like usual and he’d be there again, holding me. For a while, I would feel okay. He would press his cold lips to mine and smile, reassuring me everything was going to be better now, that he couldn’t stay away from me anymore. He’d tell me he really did want me, in fact, he couldn’t live without me any longer much like I seemed to fail at living my life without him. I dreamed that my life went back to normal because it was all I wanted. Only then, I’d be back in that forest again and he would look at me and scream that he doesn't want me, that he never wanted me. Then, he would retreat deep into the forest and I would sprint after him screaming his name.

“Edward!” I shrieked.

     I’d be sprinting and gasping for the cold night air that would burn my lungs. The forest would be moving by me at an agonizingly slow pace, so I’d push harder and try to run faster to catch up to him.

“Please! Don’t leave me again,” I would sob.

     And then just like that night, in my dream I would trip and plant myself into the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. Once I hit the ground my body would get heavy, like someone tied an anchor to each of my limbs and my waist, I couldn’t get up. The forest would be spinning and I would sob and sob, screaming his name and begging for him to not leave me until my eyes snapped open to the sensation of Charlie’s warm hand on my cheek. When I was yanked back into consciousness the screaming didn’t stop until I would realize the screaming in my dream was being unintentionally mirrored by my own voice. Charlie’s face was riddled with agony and concern for me every time, I could see that although I could barely make out his features as my eyes adjusted to my dark surroundings. He’d cradle my face in his hand as I tried to catch my breath through my gasping sobs.

“It’s okay Bella, you’re safe,” he’d say softly, wiping tears from my cheeks with his thumb.

     This nightmare, this pain, was the only evidence I had left of his existence. I could tell Charlie didn’t understand why I couldn’t get past this. I didn’t even understand it myself. I didn’t understand how I’d come this far from the person I used to be. I liked who I used to be, I missed the sun on my skin. I missed my mom and Phil. I missed dry sandy beaches and wearing shorts and tank tops. Above all, I missed not being in pain and I missed myself. 

     So, one Saturday morning I caught my dad before he went out fishing, down in the kitchen. 

“Hey, dad?” I began, lifting my eyes from the ground to meet his. 

“What’s up, honey?” he asked as he spun around to face me from across the kitchen.

“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” I breathed, playing with my own fingers but watching his expression warily. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched back.

I knew this would crush him a little. He gazed at me skeptically but sunk into his chair at the dining table.

“Okay,” he spoke finally, peering up at me evidently intrigued.

“Well…” I began quietly, moving towards my chair at the table. “I was thinking about, um, moving back to Florida with mom and Phil.”

     He looked slightly shocked, although he took a minute to process my words. Then, his features softened. “I think that’s a great idea, Bells,” he spoke finally, smiling at me in relief. 

     He swiftly closed the gap between us and threw his arms around me, hugging me firmly to his chest with a deep sigh of contentment and relief. It took me by surprise at first, but then I wound my arms around his waist and hugged him back. I felt a twinge of guilt in my stomach, but he seemed happy enough. When he finally let go after Harry cleared his throat loudly he looked at me and smiled again. 

“I love you, Bells,” he gushed.

“I love you too, Dad,” I responded with a small smile. Smiling started to hurt less after a while too. He squeezed both my shoulders with his hands and spun around to pick up all his fishing gear. “I’ll help you book a plane ticket when I get home tonight!” he called as they ran out the door. 

     Then, just like that, I was all alone again. I started heading back up to my room to start packing my stuff before I felt too much of the loneliness seep back into the hole in my chest. Packing would be a perfect thing to keep me distracted for the weekend. I decided to start cleaning my desk first, although it was not very cluttered. I can’t remember the last time I’d sat there and done anything. I tried to do my homework downstairs around Charlie so that he could see I was okay, but also to avoid what happened to me when I was left alone. I worked on putting everything neatly in a box I’d kept from when I moved in here and decided to call Renee while I was cleaning to tell her the good news. I knew she’d been worried about me, sometimes I would hear Charlie on the phone with her while I was doing the dishes or my homework and I could only imagine what kind of state she thought I was in. Charlie thought he was being quiet enough but I’d had practice listening for talking that you wouldn’t normally have to listen for. 

“Hi Bella, honey,” she greeted me in her bright Renee voice.

“Hey mom, what are you doing?” I tried keeping my tone casual and upbeat to show her I was okay.

“Oh, I’m just painting, honey, what’s up? How are you feeling?”

“I’m good, mom, I just wanted to call because I miss you and I have something to tell you.”

“Okay…” she sounded worried, her full attention turned to me. “What is it?”

“Um, well, I talked to dad this morning and... I decided I’m coming home.”

     I heard a loud gasp and high pitched squeal come from the phone that was sitting on my desk a few feet away from me. I was glad I didn’t have it by my ear or I’d be half deaf by now. I huffed a small laugh at her reaction, carefully arranging more objects into the box from off my dresser now. 

“Awww Bella, Phil and I are so happy you’re coming home!” she wailed, probably now crying. 

“Yeah, mom, I am too,” I reassured her. “Charl- er, Dad said he’d help me buy a plane ticket when he gets home from fishing tonight.”

“We’ll go get your room set up right now! This is going to be so much fun, we’ll be a family again!” she squealed, definitely crying this time. I chuckled softly to myself.

“I love you, mom.”

     I heard ruffling from the phone and then a crash and she was gone. Must’ve dropped her phone and hung up trying to grab it. That was okay, I told myself. Suddenly the whole left side of my body began to feel hot and the sun was in my eye, peeking out from the clouds and that was okay. I moved my desk chair in front of my window and sat in it, closing my eyes and soaking up the hot rays of my friend, the sun, whom I had missed so much since moving to Forks. I was comforted by the heat laying over my skin like a blanket. Then, I opened my eyes when a glare flashed over my eyelids that caught my attention. I looked around to see what it was, only to realize that if I moved a certain way the screen on my cell phone would reflect light into my eyes. “It reminds me of-” I began to think, but I stopped myself short to hug my torso at the return of the searing burn around the edges of the hole in my chest before I could even finish the thought. This burn was not comforting, this burn pulsed through my veins like venom, biting each cell it touched up and down my arms and legs, then it started stinging my eyes. I tried to focus on deep breaths but my lungs constricted each time I tried, forcing the air back out faster each time. I sat frozen in that chair, swallowed up by the intense burning pain shooting through my veins while the sun began disappearing behind the clouds. 

     What if moving to Florida was a mistake? What if I leave and he comes back someday looking for me? What if Florida isn’t what I thought it would be? What if the nightmares don’t stop? My head was spinning with doubt, but I wasn’t going to let myself be talked out of leaving. I needed to get out of Forks if I had any hope of getting myself back.

Taglist: No one because this is my first real Twilight fic lol

[joongie-teez]

Mysterious Kitten ~ 01

Pairing: OT7 x hybrid!reader

Genre: fluff, angst, smut (maybe), idol!bts, hybrid!reader

Warnings: none yet

Word count: 1,4k

Summary: Seven boys moving into a house in the middle of a forest. Not that weird right? Well to you it was. Never in your life have you seen humans so close and being the curious little being you are, you have to check them out. How will they react to you?

Taglist: @ayyeaestheticgirl18

Authors note: I’m so sorry it took me so long! I don’t really want to use this as an excuse but school has been hell for me… but I’m back! So the reader is going to be a serval hybrid, if you don't know what they are please search them up because they are so cuteeeee (I know that they actually belong in the African savanna and not in a forest, but it kinda fits the story)! Enjoy (~˘▾˘)~

Normally the forest would be quiet, the only sounds that were made were those of the animals that lived there. Maybe that’s why every living being seemed to panic as soon as the moving trucks arrived. Not all of them were scared though, a lot were just curious to see where the truck's destination was.

The mansion was known to be empty, this was actually the case for years. In the winter animals would take shelter against the cold and when the raining season began the mansion was the home for all those who didn’t have one. Seeing humans move into their safe house was quite upsetting for the population of the forest. A few weeks ago there were already a group of people who took down the house and renovated it. Some were angry, some were scared and some didn’t really care. Though they all had the same thought the moment this event happened; ‘we’ve got to protect her’.

For Y/N, the day began as any normal day would. She woke up and a few birds would bring her something to eat. The birds were, however, a bit late and the stressful ambiance of the forest seemed to put a lot of her friends on the edge. She didn’t think much of it. Maybe she should have, but she was about to find that out moments later.

^0^0^

The seven boys were excited, to say the least. A huge mansion in the forest, surrounded by a beautiful scenery. When they were looking for a place they’ve always kept in mind that their perfect place was one with quietness. A kinda ‘magic’ place where their creativity could work in the fullest. Being a relatively big artist doesn’t come with a lot of privacy, but in this place, no one would be able to find them. They were now on their way to their new house, driving in a car just behind the moving trucks. They knew that before they could live there peacefully the mansion needed to be renovated. The original plan was to do that themselves, but their company forbid it and hired some workers who already did the job a few weeks ago. Big Hit couldn’t risk the Bangtan Boys getting hurt, of course.

Arriving at the house, the maknae line rushed out of the car with the other four boys calmly following behind. The workers did an amazing job, the house looked nothing like it did before. It used to be an old mansion, abandoned and about to collapse. Almost all of the windows were broken and the doors were none existed. Standing in front of the newly renovated mansion the seven boys couldn’t believe their eyes. Not even one moment in all those weeks of waiting did they not think about how beautiful their new house would be, but they did not expect this kind of beauty.

Walking down the path to their new house the first thing they were greeted with was the absolutely stunning front yard containing all kinds of exclusive flowers they had never seen before. The house was a beautiful white color with big, wide windows giving them a good view of what the inside of the house would look like. Breaking out of their trance, the seven boys walked towards the mansion, excited to begin their new life. Running inside the mansion as if their lives depending on it, they didn’t notice the thousand pair of eyes following their every move.

^0^0^

Walking around the forest Y/N noticed something was wrong. How could she not when none of her friends were nearby? Being abandoned in the forest by her creators when she was just a little kitten she was sensitive to being alone for a long period of time, not that anyone would blame her. Just when she was about to burst into tears, she saw some wolf pups watching the not-so-old-looking-anymore mansion with a watchful eye. Deciding to punish them for leaving her alone Y/N came up with a little plan. While having an evil glint in her eye, she slowly stalked up to the five pups to scare the living shit out of them.

“BLEH!”

The once quiet forest was disturbed by the yell of Y/N and the frightened peeps of the poor pups. Bursting out in laughter Y/N fell to the ground while holding her stomach, her large ears flat on her head from laughing way too hard. “You should have seen your faces! That’s what you get for leaving me alone.” The last sentence was said with a pout. All the pups could do was glare at her playfully. What a shame that their fun was ruined by the sound of another voice.

“Hyung! Did you hear that? I think that there is someone in the forest!”

In just a blink of an eye, all joy was gone. Tensing up in fear Y/N looked around to get a glimpse of whoever said that. As the footsteps drew closer and closer the fear slowly started to get overwhelmed by curiosity and bliss. ‘This smell… why is it so good?’ When the footsteps were just a few meters away from their hiding spot the wolf pups started to growl.

“Oh man holy shit! Hyung that’s not a person!”

“Yah! Watch your language young man!”

Hearing the men run away, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Why, she couldn't quite decipher yet. As if drawn to them by an invisible force, Y/N moved forwards in an attempt to follow the humans, only to get held back by a massive wolf. The mother of the pups came running to their spot as soon as she heard the little growls. Not wanting to get in an argument the hybrid reluctantly turned around and began the long journey home, but not before she turned around one last time as if she was expecting the humans to stay and look for her.

^0^0^

Silence…

It was night time and the forest was surrounded by a deathly silence, sometimes disturbed by soft noises made by the sleeping animals, but those were bearly noticeable.

Y/N couldn’t sleep.

Those voices and smells were keeping her awake as she lay beside her dearest friends. There was something about them she couldn't describe. Slowly she got up, trying not to disturbed anyone, and walked outside the cave, hoping a nice walk outside could help her clear her mind. Greeted by the cold night air she let out a refreshing sigh. Walking down the path of the forest she was once again lost in her own thoughts. ‘Who were those people and why do I feel such a strong connection with them? I wonder if they are staying in the mansion, if so that would explain why my friends don’t really like them that much.’

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t even notice that she was slowly walking towards the mansion. It wasn’t until the smell of sweat and excitement of seven men hit her that she noticed that she was standing behind one of the last trees that were shielding her of being seen. Looking into the window with a longing gaze she could see the humans were playing a game and baking food. It looked like they had a lot of fun. Growing even more curious that she was before, Y/N was quick to make up her mind.

One peak wouldn’t hurt…

Right?