#this looks so angst hours [open] but the convo probably went like

[theclownprnc-arch]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄’𝐒  𝐀  𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐘  IN  THE  TRUNK  OF  THE  CHEVY  AND  A  DEAD  MAN  AT  OUR  FEET  STARING  UP  AT  US  LIKE  WE’RE  SOMETHING  INTERESTING.

[ @qquinntessential ]

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Two)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: swearing

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

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You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.

It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.

You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.

So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.

But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.

You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Why would I look at you?”

“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.

“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.

“I’m going to my room now.”

“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.

“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.

Yeah, maybe you are a brat.

~~~~~~

You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.

The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…

“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”

“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.

“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”

You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.

“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”

You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.

“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”

Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.

“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.

You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?

You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?

“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?

“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.

You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.

You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.

You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.

You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.

“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.

“With what?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”

“You want me to kill a spider for you?”

“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”

You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.

“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.

“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.

“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”

Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.

“It was just here, I swear.”

You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.

“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.

“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”

“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.

“Uh, yes?”

“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, nah.”

“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”

“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”

“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”

“How is that even fair?”

“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”

Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”

You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.

“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.

“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.

“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.

Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.

Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.

“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”

Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.

“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.

“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”

“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.

~~~~~~

You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.

Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.

Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.

“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”

“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”

“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.

“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.

“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.

“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,

“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”

Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.

“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”

“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”

“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”

“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”

“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”

“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”

Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.

“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.

“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”

“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.

“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.

“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”

“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”

“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.

“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.

“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”

“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”

“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”

“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.

“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”

Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!

Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.

“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”

“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.

“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.

“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.

Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.

~~~~~~

Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.

He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.

He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.

He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?

He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.

Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.

“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.

They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.

“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.

“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”

Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.

“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.

“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.

“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”

The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.

“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.

“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.

Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.

“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.

“What about us?”

Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.

“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out.

“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.

“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.

“But what?”

“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.

“I would love to. We can—”

“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.

“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.

“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”

Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.

He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.

Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?

He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.

~~~~~

Month: 1

It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.

Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.

You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—

“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.

“This better be important.” He huffs out.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.

“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.

“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.

“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”

Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?

“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.

You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.

“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What game y/n?”

You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”

Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.

“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.

“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.

“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”

“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.

You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.

“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.

“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.

“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.

“Oh…okay.”

“Listen…it’s not you—”

“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”

“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.

“I’ll be in my room—”

“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.

“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.

“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.

You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.

“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”

“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.

“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.

“It does make me feel better actually.”

“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”

“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”

“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”

“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.

“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”

“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”

“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”

“Cooking is so we can eat.”

“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.

“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.

“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.

You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.

“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.

“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”

“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.

“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.

“Just clean it off me!”

“You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”

“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.

“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.

“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”

“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”

“You are so annoying.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”

You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.

“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”

Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.

“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”

“Uh, actually this was your idea.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.

“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.

“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.

“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.

“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”

“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”

Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.

“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.

“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.

You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.

“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”

You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.

“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.

“There.” You say, “All done.”

“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.

“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”

“They say you’re a smart ass.”

~~~~~~

“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.

“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you

“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”

“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.

“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”

“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.

“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.

“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”

“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”

“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”

“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.

“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”

“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.

“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”

You tilt your head up and chuckle,

“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.

“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.

You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.

You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.

You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.

After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.

“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.

“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”

“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”

You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?

“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.

“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”

Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.

“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.

“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.

“What?” you ask.

“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”

You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.

“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”

“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”

“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”

“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”

~~~~~~~~

The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.

It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.

You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.

You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.

You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.

You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.

“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.

You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.

“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”

“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”

“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”

“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.

He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.

“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”

“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”

“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.

“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.

“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”

You frown at that, “Why crazy?”

“Ugh, you know how women can get.”

You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”

You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.

“Different how?”

“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”

The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.

Why do you have to think of him?

After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.

Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.

“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”

You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.

“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.

“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”

“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”

“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.

“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.

“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.

“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.

“Why not?”

“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”

“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.

“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.

You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?

~~~~~~

Month: 2

“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.

Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.

You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.

“What did you do?”

“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.

“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”

“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.

You look at him incredulously.

“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.

“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.

Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.

Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.

“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”

[thran-duils]

Total Eclipse (P.5)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part Five) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 2,958 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always

Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The address Sherlock had left was for a hotel and you approached it with hesitance, not knowing what room to go to. He had not left that and probably for good reason since he had not booked the room yet when he had left you the note. Plus if the note fell into someone else’s hands somehow if he had booked the room… But you were walking in blind no matter the circumstance.

Approaching the front desk, you meant to ask for a room booked under Holmes but as you were walking, you were intercepted, an arm looping through yours.

“Sweetling, wherever are you going?” he said to you calmly, his fingers caressing yours. You fell into the act easily, feigning normal, and leaning into his embrace.

Sherlock led you away from the front desk, pulling a room key out of his jacket pocket and waving it in front of you.

“You should not go waving that about so freely,” you told him out of the corner of your mouth, looking around the lobby. “There may be eyes.”

“There are none that are of any concern to you,” Sherlock reassured you as you came to the elevator.

“Except yours?”

He smiled briefly, amused. “Except mine,” he agreed.

Sherlock stayed close enough to keep you at his side but he again, was cordial until the pair of you were let off on your floor and he escorted you to the hotel room. You were nervous; this was bold. The two of you entering a hotel room together on a weekend that your husband was out of town. And the fact you had already been caught with him before – albeit years ago – was not a good thing to remember at that moment.

When the door closed, you turned, asking him immediately, “How did you know he was going to be gone? Arthur.”

“I saw it in a letter,” Sherlock responded curtly as he walked past you. He tore his jacket off and tossed it on the back of one of the armchairs.

Face pinched, you asked, “You went through his things?”

“I merely peeked. It’s not a crime,” Sherlock sniffed, sitting down on the couch, looking at you expectantly to join him.

You ignored his expression, putting a hand on your hip, staring down at him. “On top of going through his things, you stole my perfume.”

Sherlock was quiet and you rose your brows, waiting for him to defend himself. He looked uncomfortable, avoiding eye contact, busying himself with fluffing the pillow on the couch next to him. He finally asked, stammering a little, “Do… do you want it back?”

Exhaling deeply at his nervous behavior – something only you seemed to bring out in him, you dropped your hand.

“No, I already got another one,” you admitted. “I did not expect to get it back.”

“How fortuitous I stole from the rich.”

“Should I expect to find any other of my belongings missing then?”

“I was quite fond of your lotion collection, but I knew it would not serve me.”

“But my perfume would?”

“I do not intend to wear your perfume.”

“I surely hope not.”

Sherlock and you stared between yourselves, and you only smirked briefly before looking away from him. He was such an ass sometimes. And you loved him so deeply. So, so painfully deeply.

“Were you followed?” he questioned, breaking the silence.

“By you,” you told him as a matter of fact.

Sherlock gave a little laugh. “You saw me then. Good.”

“Were you even trying?”

“Of course I was. I don’t doubt your intelligence. I was just making sure you got here safely. It is quite late. However did you manage to come by yourself?”

“I snuck out.” Sherlock looked impressed by that. “They will not check the bed. I specifically request to be left alone at night and I put pillows under the covers. It’s a childish tactic but it’s not something they would expect for me. Getting back in will be more difficult but I will be able to manage.” You switched the convo back, “I also expected you to follow me, so I was looking for you.”

“Naturally.”

“And apparently I was right. Was I followed though? By any sinister looking characters?”

“No. You were not. By anyone else, I mean.”

You came to the couch then, sinking into the cushions beside him. He was enamored, watching your lips before meeting your eyes again. You touched his jawline and asked, “How did you like my house?”

“It was far too large,” he told you, sounding impassive. “Anyone could be hiding inside, and you would not know.” He was always worried about your safety. “The artwork is gaudy – Arthur is quite proud of it though.”

Arthur’s name fell off his tongue like acid.

“And you acted so interested.” He shot you a look and you smiled, squeezing his chin. “The act was immaculate if you need that praise.”

“Where even is your touch on the place?” he asked sincerely.

Your face fell then, and he noticed. He opened his mouth to say something but then closed it again, thinking better of it. You shrugged in response though. “I was allowed to choose some of the furniture when I moved in because he thought new pieces would suit the place well… but the choices were very limited. So, it was me choosing from his array of choices. And I chose a lot of my wardrobe. But… not much past that.”

Sherlock sighed heavily and grasped your hand. He pulled your glove off, finger by finger and placed it on the back of the couch behind the pair of you. Your eyes were fixated on him, and he brought your bare hand up to his lips, planting a deep kiss. His eyes were something to drown in when he opened them again and you relaxed, feeling the anxiousness melt away beneath his affectionate look.

Scooting closer, he brought you in and his lips met yours, moving slowly. He reached for your other glove, lips still locked in passion, pulling it off as well. Bare hands grasped the back of his neck to pull him closer and you fell into the kiss completely.

<><><>

You woke up groggily. Where were you and what time was it? Blinking, you lifted your head and as your vision cleared, you realized it was Sherlock you were sleeping next to. Your lips curled up into a sleepy smile; this was a dream. Paradise. Your leg was swung over Sherlock, your head had been laid on his chest. You began to lower your head back down, wishing to continue sleeping.

That was until you remembered you had come to the hotel.

Sitting up straight in a quick motion, you startled Sherlock awake with the movement.

“The sherry! Christ!” you blurted.

The two of you had drank so much sherry. You had had sex and then drank and then had had round two. You must have dozed off after the second time.

“Yes, sweetling, we had a lot of sherry,” Sherlock confirmed.

Scrambling, you sat up on the edge of the bed, your bare back to him. You slid off, mocking him, “’Yes, sweetling’? Honestly? That’s what you have to say?”

“Is there something else I should be saying?”

You shot him a vexed glare as you went to get your socks. You should have been home by now. It was still dark out thankfully. But, you should have figured out how to get home by now and slipped back into your chambers or at least been back in your damn house. Your head was still swimming a little bit from the few glasses.

Sherlock continued, “If there’s something that miraculously just by me saying it, makes you feel better, pray tell me. I would do most things to set you at ease, love.”

“Help me get my dress on!” you demanded.

Propping himself up on his elbow, he asked you, “So soon?”

“Sherlock!”

“Certainly,” he responded, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. Nude, he walked over. “Are you sure you won’t stay longer, though? It is only three o’clock in the morning.”

Of course it was 3:00am. The witching hour. You pulled at your hooks on your corset hastily.

“How are you so calm about this?”

His hands came to rest on your shoulders, trying to be reassuring. “Arthur is out of town. You went to stay at a hotel because someone on your staff had a nasty cold and you wanted the house cleaned.”

“Yes and the fact my staff is not aware of this absurd story at all?”

“This is why you shouldn’t have a staff.”

You let out a growl of annoyance, pulling away from him and diving for your petticoat. Pulling it over your head and pushing it down to your waist, you struggled to stay calm under the climbing anxiety.

“Dear, let me,” Sherlock tried, grasping your wrists and stilling your movement. You breathed deeply as he held you, not moving. He slowly let go of your wrists and picked up the strings of your petticoat. “I will help you and then I’ll get myself dressed and I will escort you home. Only to a few paces from your home and then I will watch to make sure you get home. Is that satisfactory?”

Taking another deep breath, you calmed yourself more. You nodded, “Yes. That’s perfectly fine.”

“Good,” Sherlock responded as he tied your petticoat. “We must keep our heads, mustn’t we? If we are to continue this?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

Sherlock laid a kiss on your cheek and said, “Let me help you with your skirts.”

Unable to help yourself, you quipped, trying to calm the mood, “You’ve already done that.”

Chortling, he tipped your chin back towards his and laid a slow kiss.

<><><>

Sherlock and you managed to keep up your dance, meeting at times. And he showed up at dinner parties, the two of you acting as mere acquaintances. His eyes followed you though at these dances and dinner parties; he was inconspicuous about it to others, but you always felt the heat of his stare. And you played just as coy, dutiful wife to this rich man you had landed. Arthur was simply in love with your son, George, him reaching a year and a half now. George was strong and in good form according to the doctor. Arthur never wasted an opportunity to show him off.

And he was more than pleased you were with child again. It had only just been determined. You had missed your last monthly cycle and coming up on the second…

You on the other hand were less than pleased. You had made sure to be as regular with Arthur as you could be, especially being careful to do it at the times you had met Sherlock. But… the two men were different in appearance. Discrepancies between him and the new child could certainly be called to you, but it still put you on edge.

Arthur had taken the pair of you out for dinner in celebration the same day it was declared by the doctor, gushing about you all evening. It was hard to not have adoration for him. The two of you got along well but the deep intimacy was missing. That was so important to you and yet you still cared for him.

“I am glad I found you,” Arthur told you, holding his dessert spoon up to your lips. You gave a light, polite laugh at the gesture and he mockingly begged, “Love, please. I am sacrificing this delicious syllabub on you.”

Opening your mouth, he placed it in and smiled warmly.

“We truly are blessed,” he told you. And you felt the sincerity behind the statement.

<><><>

The next night, the two of you were returning back to your estate from his brother’s. Again, you had been praised all night for the great news and you had grimaced through it, trying to be positive about the whole ordeal. You regretted nothing with Sherlock but just the idea of being found out was eating away at you.

Cradling George, you poked at his nose. He had slept almost the whole time there, which did not bode well for the nanny, but you would do your best to stay up as long as you could to keep him entertained in apology.

You were close to coming back into the city limits at this point. You could see the lights from the city in the distance from the windows of the carriage. You were eager to get back inside and swaddle George.

A distant gunshot rang through the air suddenly and you jumped, recognizing the sound immediately. George immediately started crying and you cradled him close, your heart pumping hard. You looked out the window of the carriage and in that moment, realized the carriage was starting to veer with the horses.

“What fresh hell?” Arthur demanded, sitting up to peer out the window clearly. He threw the door open and you called out to him to close it, begging him to actually.

The carriage was going off the path and you yelped as it hit a bump, sending the carriage off kilter for a moment in the tall grass. Arthur heeded what you said and closed the door now.

Slowly, the horses were coming to a stop and the two of you stared at each other, terror mirrored between the two of your gazes. Why were you out here in the middle of a field and why had your driver let the horses take you off the path?

“HENRY!” Arthur bellowed. You could see a cold sweat forming on his brow. When he received no answer, his eyes were back on you and he was quick to act. “Y/N, get down. On the bottom of the carriage. Bring George with you.”

“What?”

“Do as I say!” Arthur barked.

He had never shouted at you and it startled you into action. You moved yourself onto the floor, keeping yourself clear of the windows. George was still whimpering and you cooed him, trying to bounce him to keep him calm.

It was eerily silent outside, the moon shining in through the windows.

Another gunshot rang out.

Arthur grunted as he slumped against the seat of the carriage.

You gasped, hands coming to your mouth seeing the blood. Tears stung, your fear starting to overwhelm you completely now. What was going on? Were you about to be robbed? You had no money on you! And how would that fare for you and George?

Arthur’s eyes were on the two of you and his fingers twitched in one of his hands as if he was trying to reach towards you. You bit your cheeks to stifle a cry, only holding George tighter, holding him against your chest.

People were approaching, you could hear them. This was it. Gunshots started going off again and you let out a cry despite how hard you been trying to be quiet and not give yourself away.

The carriage was shaking as they climbed aboard and you stifled a sob, fearing the worst. Your horseman was shoved off the carriage, his body falling past the window. You let out a loud whimper again, you burying your head into George to shield his little face.

The carriage began to move again, quickly this time. You were being kidnapped. They wanted Arthur’s money and you both were being taken for ransom. That was the only thing that made sense.

The sounds of the gunshots fell behind you. And then they stopped completely.

Pulling your head up, you looked out the carriage windows from your position on the floor. You wiped at your tears, clearing your vision. You were inside the city now, but you were heading towards the water front, that much you could discern. You knew your bearings about the city well enough because of your adventures with Sherlock. Were they going to put you on a ship? And take you to where?

Arthur was breathing shallowly now, his eyes closed. You did not want him to die.

The carriage came to a stop. You tried to slow your breathing and focus. You needed to be able to get an upper hand if you were able to. The carriage was shaking again as the people disembarked from the front and your eyes were trained on the door as it was thrown open.

It was Sherlock.

And John.

“What… what the HELL are you doing?” you shrieked when your shock wore off at seeing them.

John was already moving past you into the carriage, ignoring your outburst. He was going for Arthur, tearing his shirt off. Arthur was pale, he had lost so much blood. John was assessing the wound.

Sherlock pulled you from the carriage, “Come with me. Come.”

“What is happening?” you exclaimed, trying to not sink into the shock, trying to look back at where Arthur was.

Sherlock forced you to look at him and he cupped your chin.

“The men Watson and I have been trying to track down that have been targeting diamonds were after Arthur. I only realized it was him tonight that the clues were heading towards for their most recent hit and I tried to get there as soon as I could. I’m sorry I was not quick enough to prevent this,” Sherlock informed you firmly, holding your hands tight. “Darling, I promised I would keep you safe and I intend to keep that promise. And by keeping you safe means we need to take leave of the city until we are able to bring them down.”

~~~

Fic tags: @undecidedsworld @mcnegan

[rayofsunas]

 haikyuu!! as dads (pt.1)

A/n: hello! starting off with a clean slate here yay! if some of the first few seem so short and the writing seems different, it’s because I wrote half of this like three days ago- anywways, requests are open btw!!

Summary: haikyuu characters as dads/domestic living. 

Pairings: Semi Eita, Bokuto Koutarou, Kuroo Tetsurou, Oikawa Toru, Kenma Kozume 

Warnings: some timeskip spoilers, fluff, parenting, angst (kinda) swearing (maybe), crack, all characters are aged up

Word count: 1.8k 

Part Two!

Semi Eita

- the serious sometimes scary looking dad, but other than that he’s a fluff ball

- he may look scary but he simply cannot punish them for anything 

- especially after they bonded over music, legit cannot do nothing wrong

- on the days he’s not working or with his bandmates, you can often find him with his twin daughters, teaching them how to use different musical instruments 

- okay, so your daughters are still pretty young, so they aren’t very good at using most instruments, but for Christmas you and Semi got them both a small set of drums, something easy

- it was very cute to come home from work to see your husband and daughters loudly practicing on the drums

- sure at first it gave you a blasting headache, but after a while you got used to it, and even jammed out with them when you had the time

- mainly just random sounds/beats coming from the two five year olds, but Semi doesn’t mind, he’s willing to teach them and he does proudly 

- if one of his daughters or both wants too

- definitely writes songs for his daughters and you

- i can see him writing lullaby’s for them and working on them for hours making sure they were perfect

- lets just say they were perfectly beautiful 

- because you went to high school together, the nickname “semi semi” stuck with you (thanks chicken tendo)

- but your girls will also cutely call him “semi semi”

- you often bring them to concerts despite semi saying it’s probably too loud for them

- he’ll let you sit safely with them back stage uwu

- after he runs back to you three and is bombarded with hugs, high-fives and kithes

- YOU’RE ALL SO PROUD OF HIM

Bokuto Koutarou

- bokuto is a hyper dad, which we all saw coming. there is no taking the child out of bo

- i feel like he’d want tons of kids, probably even uses his children as an excuse to act the way he does

- i can see him with a few kids, 3 to be exact (2 boys and 1 girl)

- he likes to be really involved with his children, and gets very sad/emo when he doesn’t see them for short/long periods of time

- for example, the Black Jackals is a whole different game field than high school volleyball and it’s much more time consuming and has him away a lot 

- when he does come home and has time off, let’s just say he clings to his children like a puppy

- even after a while THEY get sick of him and wanna ditch him, cue emo bo :(

- if his children gang up on him (which they do) cue emo Bo again :(

- he babies them all, can’t ever say no

- tends to go back on his word lmao

- if your oldest son begs and begs for season tickets to his favorite sports team? Bo KNOWS they can be expensive, and he was even scolded by you, but two hours after saying no, he runs back to his son and gives him the money 

- if your daughter wants to get her nails done with a group of friends, he knows she picks out the most expensive polishes, etc, BUT HE DOES NOT CARE, he will gladly give her the money and even go with her to get his nails done 

- yes, you heard me

- of course he’ll being chaperone for this girls day, he promises to pretend that he doesn’t know them and keep his distance (sit very far away lol), but after a little while its just hard to contain and he’s screaming to everyone in the salon that his daughter is sitting on the other side of the room eye- 

- your youngest son wants an expensive sports car? done

- he just wants to make his family happy, pleaseee

 Kuroo Tetsurou 

- poor Kuroo, he has 2 daughters and you, so he’s surrounded by girls lol 

- he actually doesn’t mind it tbh

- between you and his two daughters, he wouldn’t have it any other way

- just gives him an excuse to be overly protective

- anywhere in public, expect either kuroo holding your hand

- or holding his daughters close to him (piggy back rides, yes)

- or, he stands protectively behind you and your daughters while you talk to someone, sending them threatening glares behind your backs 

- he was shy as a child, so it wasn’t surprising when one of his daughters, the youngest, was very very shy

- he doesn’t mind once again, just gives him an excuse to be protective 

- although he’s busy, he always makes time for his girls ALWAYS

- definitely a bragger

- if his family is brought into a convo, he pridefully will express how cute and smart his daughters are, may or may not openly declare his daughters are the cutest amongst his co-workers children

- he’s mad intuitive and aware/observant

- kuroo always knows when one or both of his daughters are about to start crying/throw a fit

- cue dad kuroo prepared to crack funny chemistry and or science jokes

- his shy daughter finds him very funny, doubles over every time he cracks a joke and calls him a “silly rooster”

- even when she's older she still laughs and even copies his jokes

- but his other daughter just cringes, every time sigh

- when she was younger she used to fake the laughs, but when he started saying the jokes in public she just stopped reacting, hoping he would stop-

- he didn’t...

- i like to imagine kuroo and kenma staying friends even after high school, and since kenma has hella video games and a whole arcade in his house, he’ll often bring his daughters over to his house

- his eldest daughter loves it at uncle kenma’s house

- cue jealous rooster dad

Oikawa Toru 

- okay so oikawa is ALWAYS busy

- isn’t home much, except during off seasons or if he messes up his knee again (yes, it’ll happen) 

- in the event that he’s home due to a knee injury, he’ll wanna be catered too lmaooo

- he doesn’t expect his little girl to cater to him and really only teases you about it

- but his daughter will get him whatever he needs while he’s propped up on the couch

- she admires him so much

- his daughter kinda has a smart mouth-

- definitely got that from him, having picked up on it from a young age, while he was home

- when he was home once propped up with a messed up knee, she went “here dadkawa” as she handed him an ice pack

- he laughs at the nickname, asking you about where it came from later

“she was on call with hajime’s daughter yesterday... hajime asked how ‘poopykawa’ was doing”

- he just rolls his eyes, “at least he cleaned it up for her sake” you explained 

- will not lose the “kawa” part, so it’s dadkawa lol

- when he’s away, she’s always asking for dadkawa

- when he’s here they're inseparable

- morning breakfast now will be her sitting in his lap instead of yours

- she asks to watch cartoons with him instead of you :(

- bath time consists of her arguing with you as you try to wash her hair, while oikawa sits on the closed toilet seat laughing to himself

- “mommy i want dadkawa to wash my hair!”

- “you always whine that he gets soap in your eyes”

- “I don’t care!”

- when you bring your daughter to games, she’ll be cheering him on proudly, “mommy, look at dadkawa!” “GO DADKAWA!!!!”

- since he plays for the professional Argentine team, i figure you all live in Argentina now, traveling from Argentina and Japan was tiring, so you moved to be closer

- when the news approaches him after or before games, he makes sure to show his daughter off and the whole time it’s his daughter stealing the show

- she might be shy at first, but as long as dadkawa is holding her, she’s fine

- he’ll teach her Spanish, defiantly sings happy birthday to her in Spanish because it’s special

- he calls her his princesa (princess in spanish)

Kenma Kozume 

- if his child didn’t enjoy video games like him or any of his hobbies like volleyball, I feel like Kenma would have a hard time with them

- he loves his son yes, but he’d have a hard time interacting with him, especially if he’s not into video games or volleyball

- if he is though, you can often find the two in kenma’s home office, playing games

- when your son was a infant, you would always come home from being out/work to find your son sitting in his pj’s on kenma’s lap watching his dad play video games 

- “it’s late, ken. i see he’s already in his pj’s- did you already have dinner?” “yes”

- “without me?” you asked, lifting up your son to give his cheeks kisses. “there’s apple pie in the fridge.”

- eye-

- yes he fed your son that, yes he needs a little guidance, yes he needs to be told apple pie is NOT dinner

- on another occasion of coming home, you found your boys in the same spot, once again playing video games, your sons eyes drifting between the game and his father every time he muttered under his breath 

- “the screen is bad for your eyes kenma, and he’s just a baby! he’ll get bad eyes too!”

- kenma’s short answer is, “he won’t” 

- when your son got older, and he started getting into video games, it got harder for you to tear his eyes away from the screen

- he’s been around video games his whole life, so of course it’d be hard, you just didn’t think he’d grow attached 

- kenma leaves most of the strict parenting to you, because he LEGIT doesn’t NOT know what to say

- he’s lowkey afraid he’ll push his son away if he says the wrong thing, but he’s also worried that if he doesn't say anything, they’ll have no real relationship, so he struggles 

- he tries his hardest to bond with him over video games and volleyball though

- as said by your son, kenma’s cooking can’t compare to yours, BUT he does know how to make a yummy apple pie

- his son will help kenma with said apple pie, when he’s younger he was often the taste tester and made a mess every time

- kenma gets nervous in huge crowds and really around anyone he doesn’t know, so if his son is a social butterfly he’ll try to get kenma used to people other than himself and you

- somehow, during the rare moments his son has problems (friends, school etc), kenma will be the one to speak up privately

- he’ll definitely tell his son to surround himself with a good friend/good friends, he also makes sure to let him know the importance of quality over quantity 

- he has a brotherly relationship with kuroo, and if not for kuroo he’d be alone, he wants the same thing for his son

10.20.20, rayofsunas 

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part I/VII)

"sleepless nights"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, nightmares, implicit PTSD

A/N: this is kind of... Fluffy(?) Somehow lmao. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The first night I thought I was hallucinating; it wouldn't be the first time since the Battle that I had imagined someone was wandering around the flat.

The second night I was dubious.

The third night I was completely sure George was, in fact, staying awake.

So, when, during the fourth night, I heard him pass by my door for the nth time in two hours, I left the comfort of my soft blankets and stepped towards the door.

"What on earth are you doing?" George, who was already walking away in the living room's direction, jumped at my whispering.

He took a hand to his chest, shut his eyes and breathed deeply. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, woman?" He leaned against the wall, his eyes still closed.

"Alright, sorry." I apologised. We kept whispering as if someone was sleeping in our house. "It's just— are you getting any sleep?"

His brown eyes finally opened, and as he stared into mines, I knew he, despite wanting to do so, couldn't find the strength to lie.

"I can't go near my room." He confessed, one of his hands running through his locks as his eyes welled up. "I— I tried, I just—" another deep breath, this one shaky.

I reached out to him from my door frame. The hallway wasn't that large, anyway; he only needed to slightly extend his arm and he would be able to touch my fingertips.

George looked at my palm hesitant, as if he didn't dare to hold it. "C'mon, I can't have you haunting our home for another night." With a resigned sigh, he finally took my hand, and I swiftly tugged him towards me, leading him into my room and closing the door behind us.

My dorm had a different atmosphere, and George felt it right away. Maybe it was because the room was certainly not the twins' making, or maybe because it was the furthest from Fred's, but in my room the air was less oppressive; it somehow felt comforting and homely.

I sat George down on the edge of my bed and took a proper look at him; his eyes were puffy and his nose red, but he was livid. I let my hand travel to his cheek, and he unconsciously leaned on it.

"I'm gonna go for a glass of water." I informed him, my fingertips wiping a tear that had spilled and was running down his face. "And I'll get your bags on my way."

"You don't have to." He muttered.

"Yeah, I have to, because you're not sleeping on this." I tugged on his overused shirt's collar. "Do me a favor; get a blanket from under the bed and place it on the divan." He nodded and complied, getting up as soon as I left the room.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I rubbed my eyes with my index finger and thumb whilst standing up and doing as Y/n had asked me to.

On the process of covering the divan with one of her soft, warm blankets, I realized there was no way on earth I would fit there.

"Why the puzzled look?" Y/n's voice breaking the silence so abruptly made me lost my train of thoughts. "Didn't mean to scare you." She apologised, handing me the promised —and very needed— glass of water, and throwing my bags over her bed. "You're not sleeping there." She clarified, motioning at the divan.

A frown formed on my face. "I'm not taking your bed."

"Yes, you are." Just as I was about to open my mouth and complain, she warned me, "Don't you argue with me, Weasley. We're both too tired for this."

"Alright, you win." I huffed, knowing it would be useless to try and talk some sense into her, and, in all honesty, I craved to lie down on a bed, and Y/n's looked so comfy and welcoming.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to bed?"

She walked to me tugging my hand so I was facing her instead of her mattress. "You're a mess." The girl mumbled under her breath, unbuttoning my shirt before I knew what was happening. "Off, now."

When she stepped away to reach into my bag, I kept doing what she had started until the piece of clothing was open. Y/n placed my pyjamas in front of me and quickly turned her back to my body before I could even remove my shirt.

"I really don't know why you keep doing that" the words were coming out of my mouth somehow more light-hearted, almost amused. "You've ran into me naked several times." I pointed out, completely undressed and reaching for my nightwear.

Y/n snorted. "That doesn't make it any less awkward." The ghost of a grin appeared on my face and I had to refrain myself from teasing her in any way. "Done?" I responded affirmatively un response and she turned around and removed my dirty clothes from her bed.

We both climbed into our respective resting places and threw our blankets over us before turning off the light.

"Y/n?" She gave me a sleepy hum, prompting me to speak. "Thank you." She mumbled something I didn't quite understand; my eyes closed surprisingly fast, and I fell asleep.

Something I was quickly regretting.

As comfortable as Y/n's bed was, and as much at ease as the atmosphere in her room had left me, the nightmares still haunted my dreams.

I jumped up with a yell I didn't know that had escaped my lips, sweating and panting, only to find Y/n close to the same state, somehow a little bit more calmed. We locked eyes, gleaming at the moonlight due to the not yet spilled tears.

I took a deep, ragged breath, and rubbed my face with both hands; I wasn't crying, I was just exhausted.

The weight on the bed shifted before Y/n's arms pulled me into a side hug; I leaned on her, throwing my own arm around her waist to pull her even closer. We fell over the bed like that, and didn't dare to move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up again. This time, though, no pants or tears were involved; I was calm and rested, something not very usual anymore.

After a moment, I realized the reason why I had woken up was probably the pain on the back of my neck. I blinked a couple of times in an attempt to shake the drowsiness off me before trying to switch my posture to one more comfortable.

I was then startled by a sleepy grunt that left Y/n's lips; I remembered then that we had somehow managed to fall asleep in each other's arms in the most uncomfortable position ever.

I managed to move her with me, without waking her up —and thank Godric for that, because the sight of her snuggled up to my side with our legs tangled and her hand on my chest was angelic.

A sigh escaped my lips when, due to the rays of sunshine that started to sneak into the room, she buried her face in the crook of my neck, hear breath fanning over my skin and sending chills down my spine.

Staring at the room's ceiling, I weighed my options; on the one hand, I could lay with Y/n a bit more and try to go back to sleep, but I risked falling into another nightmare; on the other hand, I could get up and go have a very needed shower, but I would have to leave the comfort of her arms and her room, and venture into our very own cemetery.

I went for the second option; I did crave a shower, and we couldn't let what once was the most cheerful flat in the Diagon Alley be covered by the darkness of grief forever.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

READER'S P. O. V.

I was shocked —in a good way, of course— when, the next time my eyes fluttered open was not due to a nightmare, but to the bright, warm sunlight inundating the room.

George was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if last night had been a dream. I dismissed that idea as soon as I propped myself up on my forearms, seeing his bags near the bed and his dirty clothes laying on the carpet.

The door creaked, announcing the ginger's arrival even before he hesitantly entered the room. "Morning." He offered me a small smile.

"Morning." I replied, mimicking his expression. "How long have you been up?"

"For about..." he checked the clock in my room, leaning against the door frame. "Half an hour. Just had a shower and I was gonna make some breakfast."

My smile grew a little wider at his newly refreshed attitude. "In high spirits, are we?"

He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side. "Turns out that getting some sleep does wonders."

"Indeed." I agreed, stretching before standing up and walking to him. "C'mon, I'll help you with that breakfast."

"I can do it myself." He assured me, walking right behind me in the kitchen's direction.

"Last time you tried to cook, you set fire to the table."

He groaned, grabbing a knife to slice the bread he had left on the counter. "You won't let me live that down ever, will you?" I shook my head no, turning on the fire before grabbing a pan. "I hate you."

"Liar." I placed my hand above the pan to check the heat before requesting, "Pass me the slices."

"I was gonna make you breakfast," he complied, nonetheless. "Not the other way around."

"Are you complaining?" I quirked an eyebrow at George, making him roll his eyes at me and turn to the cabinets consequently to reach for the mugs. "I was thinking—"

"You? Thinking?" Snort. "The world's ending." He stated dramatically, preparing the coffee.

"Twit." I flipped the nearly ready toasts before resuming my sentence. "I was thinking that we should reopen the shop." George stayed silent, leaning against the counter by my side. "I think it would... Help." I stopped again, carefully picking my words. "Getting the business running... I think— we can't— we need to do something, to stay occupied." I looked at him, awaiting for an answer, or at least a glance, but his eyes were fixed on his slippers. "I don't mean right now," he tilted his chin up to stare at the opposite wall, and then his head spun to me. "but I—"

"Y/n!" His eyes went wide and he swiftly pulled me away from the pan, tossing the burning bread into the sink. "Merlin's beard." I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing in defeat. "Trying to outmatch my kitchen pyromania?" George would have successfully lightened up the mood if I wasn't on the brink of a mental breakdown.

Fred had always been the one to cook. George wasn't even allowed in the kitchen for obvious reasons, and I myself had the attention span of a fruit fly.

"Oi..." George pulled me to his chest and my arms instantly wrapped around his middle. "What about we get dressed," he began, stroking my hair. "And we go have breakfast at The Leaky Cauldron?" I nodded against him, and he squeezed me tight before slowly pulling away. "We can start restocking when we come back, yeah?" I nodded again, catching a tear with the back of my sleeve before it could run down my cheek. "Then let's go." This time it was him who stretched his arm, offering me his hand, which I instantly took.

As we made our way back to my room, it dawned on me this would be one hell of a ride.

"Wait! The coffee!" I tugged him back to the kitchen.

"Shit!" We both jogged back in, rapidly putting away the coffee pot.

"I think we shouldn't cook." I stated. "At all."

"Agreed." He breathed out.

[domesticblisss]

Sorry, Wrong Number!

Timothy Thatcher x Female OFC Requested Prompts: Also from the meet cute list #47 Texting the wrong number but continuing the convo with Tim Thatcher. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 1436 Warnings: Fluffity fluff fluff. Also broken bones, but no angst. Summary: Tim gets several text messages from an unknown number asking for help.

→ emmy

→ don’t freak out

→ i know it’s impossible to not freak out when someone tells you not to but listen

→ i’m fine

→ i am!!! really!!!

→ i might have broken my right ankle tho 😬

→ before you ask, i went skateboarding with that dumbass josh and he left as usual

→ i’m gonna get x-rays now

→ could you come and pick me up? i’m at the mercy general

→ lub uuuuuuuu 🥺💗🥰💖💘❤️💗🤍😬🥰😭🥺😍😘

Tim had just started his mid-afternoon training session and his phone went off with texts. 10 texts to be exact. All from an unknown number. 

He debated on whether or not he should answer but decided on replying since the person was clearly in distress. 

← Hello. I think you have reached the wrong number, there is no Emmy here. 

And he moved on with his training. Or at least he tried to. Thirty minutes since he had texted the person and not even a word back. 

← Hey, is everything ok?

Staring at his phone’s screen for what felt like ages, four new texts came in right when he was about to close it off. 

→ omg dude!!! i’m so sorry!

→ i just got a new phone and i lost most of my contact list bc i’m a dummy and fucked the backup up

→ def got the last digit wrong 

→ everything is fine, the ankle IS broken tho. thx for replying back and thx for your concern

← No problem. Hope you can reach your friend. Take care of that ankle. 

→ wow, you are very formal aren’t you?

→ that‘s so funny 😂😂😂

Tim frowned, wondering what was wrong with how he texted. “That’s just how I speak.” 

← I don’t understand what you are saying. Also what’s it with all the squares?

→ squares?

← You just sent “That’s so funny.” and three squares. What do they mean?

She looked at her phone, puzzled. 

→ uuuhhh, those are emojis? what kind of phone do you have?

← A flip phone. 

“WHAT?!” she screamed, forgetting she was at the E.R.  A nurse rushed to her bay to make sure everything was fine. Embarrassed, she apologised and assured everything was alright. Anna had to take deep breaths to recompose herself before replying. 

→ what? why? dude it’s 2016 who has a flip phone? also i’m anna btw

→ oh my god, am i hallucinating from the pain? are you even real?

← I have one and I am very real, miss. And my name is Timothy. Were you able to contact your friend?

→ yes, but she won’t be able to pick me up since she’s on her shift and she’s alone at the store

← And how are you getting home?

→ oh, i’ll figure something out

→ will probably hail an uber or something

← Hold on. I will be back in a few. 

Tim rushed his way to the emergency room, making a stop at a convenience store to get a ‘get well soon’ gift for a girl he had never even seen but had taken a sudden concern about. 

Arriving at the hospital, his presence was quickly noticed by the front desk receptionist. 

“Hello sir, how can I help you?”

“Good afternoon, Miss. I’m looking for Anna. She checked in a couple of hours ago with a suspected broken ankle.” Tim answered, his nerves getting the best of him, already knowing what was going to be asked next. 

“Oh, yes. Are you from her direct family?”

“Yes.” 

The polite receptionist noticed what he carried on his hands and needed no further details. 

“Follow through this corridor, the orthopaedic E.R. is on the first door to your left. The nurses will lead you to her.”

“Thank you, miss.”

The path from the front desk to her emergency bed was a cloudy one on his mind. 

“She will probably think I’m weird.”

“I barely know this girl.”

“But I couldn’t let her go home alone with a broken ankle.”

He was so lost in his thoughts that he almost bumped into the funny, pink haired nurse when she opened the curtain that separated Anna’s bed from the others in the room. 

“Anna! Look, your boyfriend is here!”

Shit. Tim was gone. The confused face coming from the beach blonde haired girl sitting in bed was the most beautiful one he had ever seen. 

“I’ll leave you two alone.” the nurse said, whispering “Lucky girl.” before leaving. 

Tim let out a small chuckle, quickly recovering when Anna cleared her throat. 

“Umm, I think you got the wrong person, dude.”

“Anna!” he stopped, his nervousness making his already loud voice louder than usual “sorry. I’m Tim. The guy you texted thinking it was Emmy.”

“Tim, hi! Oh my god, what are you doing here?”

“You said you were going home alone and I couldn’t let you do that with a broken ankle. Also these are for you.” he explained, handing her the gifts he got. 

“You really brought me flowers and a teddy bear? That’s– that’s very sweet of you.”

They looked at each other, taking in their new friend features. Shy smiles, glances to the side, small giggles turned into full blown laughter after they realised what was going on. 

“God, I’m so embarrassed!” she exclaimed between laughs. “Thank you so much for the gifts, and for coming. I didn’t think you would actually show up.”

“I didn’t think I was coming either. Can I?” he said, pointing to the chair besides her bed, only sitting after she nodded “It was on impulse and that’s new for me.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“How’s the ankle?”

“It’s fine,” she winced when she tried to move it to show it to Tim. “It’s a minor fracture. I think everyone decided to break something today so it’s kinda busy, I’m just waiting for my turn to get a cast.”

They talked for what felt like hours, getting to know each other. Tim was amused with her beauty, with how funny and quick witted she was, always having an answer on the tip of her tongue. Anna was enchanted with how shy this big, mean looking guy is, with the way his loud voice and booming laughter took over the whole room. 

Tim was in the middle of an explanation on how he lost his tooth when the sweet pink haired nurse showed up with news and a wheelchair. 

“Your time has finally arrived, dear. Hop up on your carriage and let’s go to the cast room, bring your personal belongings. Oh, your boyfriend can come too.”

Tim smiled with the nurse’s comment. Quick on helping Anna on getting down from bed, he swiftly picked her up bride style, and gently sat her down on the wheelchair. 

“Aww, you two look so cute together.”

“Thanks!” both said in union, awkwardly. 

Twenty minutes, a pink cast and a pair of crutches later, Tim wheels her to where his car is parked, with a promise of taking her home. He helps Anna sit on the front seat, securing her seatbelt. The closeness and intimacy of the moment makes Anna act on impulse, and she kisses him. A tiny, quick peck on his lips, one she ends as fast as it started when she felt Tim freeze. 

“I am so sorry, Tim.”

He grabs her chin as soon as she looks down ashamed, tilting it up to look her in the eyes. His thumb rubs her cheek, then her chin and finally her lips before he goes in for another kiss. It’s a gentle, shy kiss, that tasted like curiosity. Tim is the one to break up, only to ask something he had in mind since he saw her in that hospital bed.

“Do you want to go on a date?”

“Now?”

“I’ve got nowhere to go, do you?”

“Nope, let’s go.”

He pecks her lips again before closing the door of this car and running to make his way to the driver‘s seat. 

Anna giggles, not in a million years she would have thought a broken ankle and a wrong text would have gotten her a date with a cute dude. 

Tim is making his way out of the parking lot when Anna remembers one little detail. 

“Hey, do you really have a flip phone?”

“Yeah, here.” he tells her, one hand on the steering wheel as the other rummages through his pocket to grab the phone and gives it to her. 

“Oh my god, I’m back to 2002.”

[kim-seungmine]

dream the night away

title: dream the night away

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life, romance, angst, best friends to lovers au, idol au, idol!hyunjin, hyunjin centric, inspired by 3racha’s cloud 9 but not really?

warnings: minor character death, sometimes heavy, slow burn (aka i wanted it to be but i wasn’t patient enough), i tried to proofread, i gave up trying to format text convo on tumblr, i think they kiss a lot.

word count: 11.6k i’m so sorry

synopsis: one night, hyunjin wonders how he long can stay floating on cloud 9 before he loses his balance and falls all the way down to the pits of hell. After that, nothing feels right.

disclaimer: this is idol!hyunjin so i just wanna say that this is not how hyunjin is in real life and im not trying to convince you that he feels the things in the story. some parts are inspired by the things they’ve said but everything that happens here is pure fiction... which actually goes without saying since this is a fanfic, but i just feel the need to say it. for my personal long ass author’s note, you can read it below.

Hyunjin is met with darkness when he steps into the dorm. It used to be more packed, it used to be messier, and it used to be really loud. Now he only shares the dorm with the 00z who are surprisingly quiet if you think about it. Seungmin sleeps early, Felix has his headphones stuck to his ears and plays games until the sun rises, and Jisung is snugged somewhere watching movies. On busier days, Seungmin and Felix are at the company for lessons and Jisung spends the night at the studio with Chan and Changbin. Hyunjin, meanwhile, usually has some photoshoots.

However, tonight feels unnaturally quiet, especially since Hyunjin has just won his first Bonsang as a solo artist. He switches the lights on, and his friends are soundlessly huddled together by the fridge, Jisung holding a small cake.

“Surprise!” Seungmin exclaims rather flatly as Hyunjin drops to the floor out of shock, shouting profanities. Felix proceeds to grab some candles from the kitchen counter and lights them up. “Come on, blow the candles."

Hyunjin lets out an amused sigh, rising to his feet before blowing all the candles out. “Please tell me these aren’t those candles that stay lit n—what the hell.”

He continues blowing, his friends giggling while Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to curse? I was about to post that on Instagram Story!”

“Why are we doing this anyways? We’re not 18 anymore,” Hyunjin protests half-heartedly. He can’t really remember the last time they gave each other a proper surprise. It feels like ages ago. Jisung scoffs, searching for a knife inside one of the kitchen drawers. Slicing the cake, he retorts, “Your dramatic ass loves surprises, stop denying it.”

“Anyone has anything to do tonight? The hyungs want to come over,” Felix informs while typing on his phone. Hyunjin’s vibrates after a few seconds; everyone on the Stray Kids group chat must be congratulating him.

Seungmin opens the chat, frowning. “Where’s Jeongin?”

“He hasn’t been replying since hours ago. That brat probably fell asleep. Just ask his bro if he’s home,” Hyunjin suggests, about to reply to Chan’s message when another message pops up.

y/n: sorry i couldnt watch the show

y/n: but i saw the news! congratulations!!

y/n: so proud of you, as always!

Hyunjin’s eyes light up at your messages. It’s been months since he saw you; he’s been busy with his solo debut and you’ve been busy with school. When both of you were children, you often pictured how life would be. Hyunjin would be a famous soccer player for Manchester United and the captain of South Korea national team. You would be studying to become a doctor.

He finds it funny that you’re doing the exact same thing while he’s doing something he never even imagined before. Hyunjin is always amazed at how well you planned your whole life and executed every single plan, albeit not always instantly.

After all these years, though, he dares to say that both of you turned out okay. Amazing, even.

“Order whatever you want. I’m eating outside but I’ll be back soon,” Hyunjin tells his friends, bombarding you with messages before you turn your phone off, the thing you always do when you’re about to cram.

Seungmin arches an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I asked whether she wants to eat gopchang with me.”

“You should really be careful.”

“Everyone knows we’re best friends. No one will make a weird rumor or anything.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “Well, do you?”

Whenever someone talks about you, it always leads to this very conversation. Hyunjin decides to let Jisung’s question (sarcasm) hang in the air, but he knows the answer. Yes, he knows you and him are just best friends. Does he like it that way?

Hyunjin knows the answer to that too. He only pretends that he doesn’t.

You’re already slurping your soup when Hyunjin says hi to the restaurant owners, Mr and Mrs. Jang. “Oh Hyunjinnie, I just watched you on TV. You won something, right?” he asks. His wife ushers him to sit down, putting extra servings of kimchi on the table.

“Why didn’t I get extra kimchi?” You pout, shooting a jealous glare at Hyunjin who’s busy explaining what a Bonsang is to the owners.

“You did a good job, then,” Mrs. Jang coos. “You don’t need to pay today. It’s on us!”

You quickly put your spoon down. “What about me? I barely sleep thesedays, and I’m not as rich as Hyunjin!”

“Aigoo, you started eating before your friend came then demand for free food. You’re lucky we love you as much as we love Hyunjin.”

The couple laugh at your reaction, jokingly scolding you for being whinier than Hyunjin when it used to be the other way around. He smiles, remembering all the times he forced you to eat his eggplants for him and the times when he begged you to help him study because he needed to beat all of his friends.

“Eat,” you scowl. “You only have half an hour to brag. I have a night shift.”

Out of the times you’re being petty towards him, you were only seriously petty once: when he beat your English score in ninth grade although you were the one teaching him. He had to bribe you with a week’s worth of Haribo jellies before you stopped ignoring him.

Hyunjin giggles. “When’s your exam? Tomorrow?”

“Next week,” you whine. “But I have so many things to do! And I think someone stole my notes, I can’t seem to find them anywhere. Do you even understand half the pain I’m going through right now? All I need is one solid hour of sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

You widen your eyes, eyeing Hyunjin from head to toe. “Sometimes I forget you’re Stray Kids’ Hyunjin.”

He pretends to stab himself on the chest. “That h-hurts,” he fake-groans. “Then who do you think I am?”

“My neighbor,” you answer. “—who doesn’t even live at home anymore.”

“To be fair, you’re practically holed in hospital now.”

“Yeah but I go home every two weeks? You go home twice a year.”

“Excuse me?! I went home on your birthday… in the middle of a tour! I could’ve been sleeping or practicing, but I came home!”

He always “argues” with you until both of you are out of breath, clutching your chests because it somehow feels hilarious. You drink the last few drops of the soup right from your bowl, setting it back on the table and empty your glass in one go.

“I don’t have enough energy for this,” you sigh dreamily, prepping your head on your arm. “Tell me about everything. Your first Bonsang.”

Hyunjin can still hear his fans’ voices chanting his name and cheering for him as he delivered his speech while sobbing (this is what he hates from solo promotions, nobody else is there to stop him from crying or taking over the mic from him so he could calm himself down). He remembers every single word he said and the proud faces of his fellow artists. The thrill, the triumph, the satisfaction, the love… it’s making him emotional all over again.

He grabs a tissue to blow his nose. “I was surprised when the company said that I was invited. Our group hasn’t made a comeback this year, and although my song did chart quite well, I never expected they would even invite me.”

“They gave me a 5-minute stage! I was so happy, I sent you my rehearsal videos, right?”

You nod, imitating one of the moves in his dance break.

“Everything was even more amazing on stage, with Stays watching me. I think I was possessed during the performance… I was goddamn nervous though.”

“Yeah, I watched it on the way here. You kept licking your lip, I don’t care if your fans think that’s hot. To me you’re just a nervous mess…”

Hyunjin has started to pout when you add, “… who did a very great job nevertheless! It’s just that I’ve known you so long. You can’t hide anything from me.”

He notices how you’re holding your breath, waiting for him to respond. After years, Hyunjin thought he would take negative comments much less seriously, but apparently it didn’t become easier. It became harder, so hard that he had to take a 3-month hiatus last year.

With you, everything is different. You can tell him that he sucks big time and he’ll take it seriously, but he never gets offended. There are a lot of times when people treat him like he’s made of glass (or a snowflake, Seungmin once said), but you treat him the way you’ve always treated him and he loves it. None of his other friends understands, but your honesty is priceless. It’s what keeps him going; he knows you’ll never cherish him less no matter what you say about the way he dances and raps, or the way he looks and behaves. And he’s sure that his honesty also means the world to you. You are each other’s toughest critic, but it will never change anything.

“Hyunjin.” You place your hand over his, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

He chuckles, flipping his palm to squeeze your hand. “You idiot. You just stated the facts.”

You squeeze his hand back before pulling away. “I’m looking at Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids who sold over 100.000 copies of his first solo album, who won Bonsang for the first time, who gets worshiped by everyone he locks eyes with—except for me of course. I’m a very proud friend.”

“Stop it.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but unable to hide his smile once he sees you grinning like a happy child. “How much time do we have left?”

You glance at your phone, sighing when a reminder for you to study pops up. “5 minutes. I have to go back to the hospital soon.”

“Can you even study during your shift?”

“I have to,” you mumble. “Anyways, thanks for dragging me out. I did miss you after all.”

“I missed you too,” Hyunjin says, probably too quick for his own good but he doesn’t regret it.

“I’ll be going now.” You stretch your limbs, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Any last words before I go to war?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan is the only one awake by the time Hyunjin gets back home. He huffs in regret, knowing that the hyungs decided to stay over to celebrate his Bonsang win. The leader greets him with a bear hug, carefully avoiding Felix and Minho who are fast asleep on the floor. “We’re so happy for you!” he whisper-yells. “How was Y/N?”

Hyunjin returns his hug with an even tighter one. “Thanks hyung. You composed the song after all! And sorry I came back too late.”

Chan shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. At some point we forgot why we were here and just started playing mafia.”

“Y/N is fine, anyways, just tired.”

“She’s always tired, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. It turns out that medical students are probably more tired than us.”

Hyunjin leads Chan to his bedroom. Each of the 00z has their own bedroom now. It’s much more convenient and they can arrange their stuff however they want to (they avoid entering Jisung’s room as much as possible), but Hyunjin misses the mess at times. The old dorm was cramped, either too hot or too cold, and way too noisy, but it was home for quite a long time.

Chan seems to be having the same thought. “We miss you kiddos sometimes,” he laughs. “But we fixed that sliding door. It closes properly now.”

“As long as Changbin hyung keeps opening it with too much force it will be broken again in no time. Trust me.”

Both of them are lying on Hyunjin’s king size bed, staring at the sideboard table he dedicates for his music show—and now, music award—trophies. “The kids don’t really say it but they’re all so proud of you. I’m proud of you. I raised you well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Kinda?!”

“I’m joking.” Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “You raised all of us. We raised Jeongin. And we raised each other.”

“3racha are almost finished choosing the final songs, you have 2 weeks to relax then we’ll start production right away. Our next tour won’t start until May, so we have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

“Ohhhhh I can feel my bones breaking already. We’re getting old,” Hyunjin whines.

Chan pats his thighs, cracking his knuckles before jumping out of bed. “You’re getting old,” he teases.

“I’m glad, though. Everything finally works out the way we wanted to. I guess we can say that we’re doing well now, right?”

Chan doesn’t wait for Hyunjin to answer and leaves the room right away. The latter ponders the rhetorical question for a while, recalling the goals they have reached for the past few years. Entering the Melon chart (and staying on Top 20 for a week), having one of the most successful world tour, winning prestigious awards at prestigious music awards, 3racha getting acknowledged as the industry’s top composers, 00z winning music shows for their unit debut last year, Jeongin getting drama roles, and last but not least, Hyunjin’s successful solo debut.

Feeling nostalgic, he scrolls through his phone, looking at old photos and silly videos. Looking at the lyrics he wrote on his note app. Then he goes through @realstraykids’ posts on Instagram, from when Jeongin still had braces until tonight. The latest selcas on his own official account are still getting likes, the fans showering him with praises.

Hyunjin has ticked off everything from his wish list. He has reached every goal he set a few years ago. They are doing well. He’s doing well.

He looks at his surroundings, immersing himself in the space and peace of his room that he once craved desperately. He’s supposed to be at peace now, but his mind won’t stop buzzing, asking himself what to do next.

For the very first time, Hyunjin realizes that he’s now floating on Cloud 9. Everything is perfect, he’s living his dream life. But at the back of his head, he can hear the clock ticking, ready to push him over the edge the moment he loses his balance, watching him fall all the way to the pits of hell.

Everything is perfect, but why does his heart feel so empty?

Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he tries to catch some comments the fans are posting. When he was a rookie he couldn’t get used to how fast the comments come in, and it’s something that doesn’t quite change. Probably he got used to it at some point, but they kept gaining fans that the comment section is always extremely active.

“Hyunjin oppa,” he pronounces the words slowly. ”Spo-spoiler please!”

He lifts his head to give the viewers a secretive smile. “Nope.” He wiggles his forefinger. “You have to wait for the teasers!”

“Ohhh the comments! You guys are so excited I can’t keep up!”

More comments flood in, and Hyunjin has to press his phone screen in order to read the one comment he’s been trying to read. “Recommend me a song, please!”

“Uhhh—” He takes some time to think of the songs he’s been listening to, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table while the comments keep coming in, but this time he spots words that stab him right on his gut. With trembling hands, he lifts his phone, clicking the report button as subtle as possible. His vision grows blurry as he reports every single comment that has the word “fuck you”, “die” or “talentless” in it.

The pause has become too long and too awkward, so he stops himself from reporting more and stares at the lens. “Ah, song recommendation!” he exclaims. “I have quite a lot but thesedays I’ve been listening to 00z songs a lot. We had so much fun promoting together.”

Hyunjin feels his other phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his mother checking in. It gives him a boost of energy, and he tells his fans he’ll stay with them for 10 more minutes. “When we’re just talking like this, I’m always reminded that we’ve come so far,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his face. “It feels good to know that all of you are making time for us, for me, after your busy day. And no, I’m not sleepy. Don’t worry, everyone!”

He reads some more comments, mostly cheesy pickup lines to cheer himself up as his brain is still trying to get all the hurtful words out of his system. “Ah, I think I have to go now,” Hyunjin announces lowly. “I have to go back to practice, if not Chan hyung will barge in and drag me back to the practice room.”

“What? You want me to get scolded by Chan hyung? Why are you so mean?!”

Hyunjin ends up staying for 20 more minutes before finally ending the broadcast. Conversation with his fans is something he values a lot; it gives him strength and makes him laugh. It makes him feel loved and he wants his fans to feel the same.

But it’s equally tiring. He has to brace himself for some less-than-nice comments, sometimes they are way too severe for him to handle that the company sues all the commenters. You’ve told him over and over again that those people aren’t his fans.

Everything could’ve been worse. Hyunjin still considers himself very lucky that he has much more fans than haters. Still, he often imagines how it will feel if he has no hater at all, since he does have some friends who seem to only hear pretty words.

Hyunjin stays inside the room for a few more minutes, replying to Seungmin’s messages and assures him that he’ll be back soon. He idly plays one of their songs he hasn’t heard for years, the song that was always included in their setlist before being replaced by some other songs. Hyunjin initially thought he wouldn’t need that song anymore, but tonight, he needs it. Maybe he needs it more now than before.

After making a mental note to ask the other boys to add the song back to the concert’s setlist, Hyunjin leaves, cursing himself for taking too much time to regain his composure.

Should I stop or not? Should I give up or not?

“Hwang Hyunjin, stop coming into my room without my permission! You literally trespassed into someone else’s property!”

Hyunjin groans into his pillow, instantly regretting his decision to pick up your call at midnight. “I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie to me. You took Gureum with you!”

He takes a quick glance at the rabbit plushie he placed on top of his pillow. Last night, he did go home because Kkami (everyone calls him old man now) got a little sick. “I miiiiight have made a quick detour next door when I was about to leave.”

“You’re pathetic. You got soooooo many plushies and toys and cute headbands from fansigns and you stole my Gureum.”

“Stop guilt tripping me! I missed Gureum, okay? Why didn’t you take him to your dorm?”

Hyunjin senses your hesitation as you clear your throat. “Well, sometimes seeing Gureum only makes me miss everyone more, so I just left him at home.”

Now he feels guilty. Your parents are currently staying overseas to take care of your sick little sister. He pictures you coming to an empty home every two weeks, exhausted and not having anyone to welcome you.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Our superstar isn’t busy?”

“I am, but I’m willing to sacrifice my precious time for my best friend.”

You scoff over the phone, but telling him to hurry up before ending the call. Hyunjin packs his clothes and toiletries, along with Gureum—his birthday present for your 11th birthday. You almost never sleep without it, yet the plushie still looks brand new.

Unable to hide his smitten smile, Hyunjin grabs his keys.

The apartment complex where Hyunjin lives has changed a lot over the years. The soccer field he used to play at is now a playground. The little bookstore you loved so much is now a bakery. Now there’s a big shopping mall right across the building. After saving up for a while, Hyunjin asked his parents whether they wanted to move to a bigger place. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t want it because he wanted to stay close to you (although coming home is a real challenge for him). Luckily, his parents said no.

He enters your door password leisurely, recalling the time when your parents told him to take care of you.

So far, you’ve been the one taking care of him.

Hyunjin heads straight to your bedroom, opening the door and sees you curling on your bed. The mattress he sleeps on whenever he stays over is already laid on the floor.

“Gureum!” you yell when he throws the squishy rabbit to you. Hyunjin drops his bag and settles himself on the mattress, staring up at you.

“How’s your sis?”

You scoot towards the end of the bed, showing him a photo on your phone. Your sister is smiling; she looks much better than before, but still very pale and thin. “I haven’t called her,” Hyunjin admits. “But she got the albums I sent to her. Sent the ones signed by the others too. That kid loves Jisung, do you know that?”

“I got her into Jisung.”

He sits up, looking almost offended. “Your bias is Han Jisung?”

“This world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.” You flash him a cheeky grin. “I wanted to ask you to let me go to the backstage again last tour, but I restrained myself. As your kind best friend, I shouldn’t abuse my privilege.”

“You know that he never cleans his room, right?”

You hum, “Nobody’s perfect, Jinnie.”

“Oh come on!” Hyunjin protests. “If it’s Jeongin I understand although he also never cleans his room. But Jisung? And you’re calling yourself my best friend!”

“He’s funny!” you argue. ”He has a nice voice—it’s really sexy when he raps, he dances well, he wrote all my favorite Stray Kids songs, and he actually had the balls to fight you. A real champ.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, making a gesture to snatch Gureum away from you. “And at the end of the day, you love him,” you add. “He makes you laugh too.”

Well, it’s a fact he can’t refute. You ask, “Do you think I should hit on him or something? Will people call me out? Does he have someone?”

“We are not having this conversation Y/N. I don’t care if both of you are my best friends, you’re not dating Han Jisung. What happened to that ‘hot senior’ Jung Jaehyun? The last time we called, you were so in love with him.”

The mention of Jaehyun’s name causes you to slump into your bed, covering yourself with your thick blanket. “I sort of blew it up,” you mumble. “He asked me on a real date and I said no.”

You seem to hit realization that’s way too late, and now you’re hollering, “I said no to Jung Jaehyun! Oh my God Hyunjin… I’m such an idiot!”

Hyunjin can’t contain his giggles. Relief washes over him; you and Jaehyun seemed rather serious and while he wished you well, the thought of you being with someone else always pains him. He knows he’s not allowed to feel that way just because you’re best friends.

Most of the times, he can’t help it.

“He’s a real gentleman and he said he was into me. ME. Everyone would throw themselves at him but he came up to me and I flat out rejected him. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

You’re rolling on your bed, whining and kicking at the air. “I tried not to think about it but… it was just a date? Even if I didn’t end up dating him at least I could tell my grandchildren that I went on a date with Jung Jaehyun!”

“Is he really that great?” Hyunjin asks, out of curiosity but laced with jealousy he hopes you can’t see. His words sound distant to his own ears, triggering his fear of losing you.

“Yeah, I guess?”

You nudge his legs when he doesn’t respond. “How about you? Everything’s fine? You don’t look happy thesedays.”

Hyunjin never lies to you. You have a full access to his heart; he lets you in on his happiest days when life feels like the shiniest summer. He also lets you in even after the messiest thunderstorm when he feels that everything is fucked up. This time, he wants to lock you out. There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to fix.

His heart is empty—he is empty, and he wants to protect you from the bleakness of it.

“I’m fine, just been arguing with Felix and Minho hyung over the song we’ll perform. It feels too monotone for me, but they think it’s perfect,” he explains, not completely lying. “I don’t know if I’m being selfish but somehow I just can’t let it go.”

“Have you tried explaining to them? Not how you feel, but how the song is. You can always go technical, you don’t need to worry just because Minho is more experienced.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I did, but probably it’s just me.”

“Do you wanna talk things out?” You yawn, squishing Gureum into your chest. “Or do you want to just sleep?”

He glances at the clock. “We both need sleep. It’s almost 3A.M.”

“Alright. Good night—I mean good morning!”

Hyunjin stretches his neck to look at you, your eyes are already closed. He relaxes his body and tries to sleep, but his jumbled mind keeps him awake. Hyunjin waits until you’re fast asleep before scooting closer, softly taking your hand in his before closing his eyes once again. He did it a lot when he was younger, holding your hand until he fell asleep. You nagged at him because it woke you up, but you never told him to stop doing it.

Tonight is no different.

“Hyunjin?”

“Sorry.”

You turn to him, “It’s okay.”

He mumbles a thank you, ready to go to sleep when you move to the mattress. Hyunjin gulps at the close proximity, it’s been too long since you slept on the same bed as him.

“Hyunjin, I missed you.”

Hyunjin heard a theory somewhere: 3.A.M-conversations are the most honest. It’s a little over 3A.M now, and he doesn’t how much of that theory is true, but your words fuel something deep within him. The feeling so strong he has to tear his gaze away from you. Hyunjin slowly pulls you into his arms, patting your back in rhythm with the clock.

He grazes his lips on your shoulder, mouthing his reply quietly, “I missed you too.”

You nod against his chest, pulling your hand out of his grasp so you could circle your arms around his torso.

Hyunjin falls asleep almost immediately, succumbing to the warmth and comfort you radiate.

He’s going to be alright.

“Do you think I’ll ever debut?”

Hyunjin takes off his SOPA jacket, plopping onto the bed while you’re munching on a pack of jelly. “Let me sleep for 10 minutes. I have to go to the company after this.”

You slap his thigh. “Why do you always sleep in my room? If I got a dollar everytime you sabotage my bed I’d be really rich now. Get out, you have practice!”

He reaches for your knee, using it as a pillow. Hyunjin feels you soften as you card your hand through his hair. “Is it hard? Are those mean hyungs still bothering you?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Changbin hyung told those motherfuckers to mind their own business.”

“Stop cursing!” you hiss. “It’s not cool, and what if you accidentally curse on broadcast later? You have so much to learn…”

Hyunjin opens his eyes and smiles when he meets your gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever debut?” he repeats his question.

“Have you seen yourself dancing? You’re better than most of the trainees I saw at the open showcase. Plus you have so many girls screaming your name. No offense, but that is definitely a plus point.”

You give his head a little smack when you notice doubt flashing through his orbs. “I believe in you, Hyunjin. Don’t doubt yourself,” you tell him softly. “And if you need someone to give those ‘motherfuckers’ a lesson, just call me. I know some people who can shut them up.”

He lets out an obnoxious gasp. “Are you a gangster now?! Your parents are going to be so disappointed in you. Looks like you have to say goodbye to medical school now…”

You sigh, now it’s your turn to look at Hyunjin with doubt in your eyes. “I’ll get in, right? What if I flunk my results later?”

“This is why I hate smart people,” he bemoans. “You rank first in the whole school, stop saying nonsense.”

Both of you a few more minutes lying in silence. When he waves you goodbye, Hyunjin feels like he can soar.

He’s safe with you, and you’re safe with him.

“Hwang Hyunjin, get off me!”

Hyunjin wakes up to you trying to untangle your legs from his. He catches your flailing legs, removing his before examining your face. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you running late?” you pester, pointing at the clock.

“Lunch?” he asks.

This is supposed to be awkward. Hyunjin can’t recall what happened a few hours ago before blushing—he’s never been that intimate with you before. You two have had a fair share of platonic cuddle sessions, but last night felt different.

“Not yet,” you mutter. “I just woke up. Oh God my back hurts.”

He wants to know whether you feel the same, but you’ve made your way to the bathroom before he could ask anything. “What do you want to eat?” you yell, almost incoherently due to the toothpaste in your mouth.

“You’re not going to shower?” Hyunjin playfully shrieks.

“It’s my day off!”

“My mom must’ve cooked something. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Although he’s done this at least a hundred times, it’s still hard for Hyunjin to leave home. Seeing his he’s never able to stop his heart getting heavier at the sight of bidding his family goodbye until God knows when.

“Please come home more Y/N,” his mother asks you, raising her eyebrow. “Hyunjin seems to randomly pop up whenever you’re here, so please, come home more.”

You smack his back loudly, causing him to let out a choked groan. “I’ll teach him a lesson, don’t worry.”

Hyunjin gives his mother a sheepish smile, knowing all too well what she meant. He pulls you out before she starts grilling him for information, yelling one last goodbye before closing the door. You search for something inside your bag, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

“You left something?”

“My dorm key,” you answer, walking back to your own unit. “You should just go,” you say. “It’s in the middle of the day anyways, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Hyunjin follows you inside, watching you rummage through one of the buffet drawers. He notices how your shoulders are slumped and the way your eyebrows furrow. As his mind wanders to last night once again, you jab at his stomach lightly. “Hey, you’re spacing out.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin can say. He takes a good look of you, something he always does before he parts ways with you. Before he can stop himself, Hyunjin has wrapped his arms around you, letting you hear his erratic heartbeat. He still misses you, even after spending the whole night together.

Eventually, you pull away. “I’ll go first.” You ruffle his head. “See you when I see you?”

“See you soon,” he corrects you.

You smile, taking your bag from the floor and when he blinks, you’re gone.

Hyunjin still misses you now, even when you were just in his embrace a few minutes ago, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The empty space in his heart seems to expand whenever he thinks about you.

It hurts.

Minho ends the dance practice and everyone collapses on the floor the moment the music stops playing. Hyunjin immediately restarts the discussion they had before practice started.

“We used to sing both Grow Up and You Can Stay, why do we have to choose one now?” he demands while all of them are sprawled on the floor. “Our fans miss it too, I think it’s the perfect chance to bring it back.”

Chan takes a deep breath, nodding at Hyunjin. “I can’t see why not,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why we abandoned it in the first place.”

Hyunjin does, and he knows Chan does too. It was simple, really. The song that once gave them comfort turned into this big monster made out of their worst nightmares. Each member had cried to the song during some of their concerts, and now performing it in front of everyone always brings back the painful memories.

“Yeah, we should sing it again,” Felix adds, kicking Jisung’s leg so the latter would sit up and voice out his opinion. “Well.” Jisung scratches the back of his head, “I’m cool with it.”

The rest of the group mumbles similar answers and Chan claps, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up. “Hyunjinnie is all grown up,” he praises before gathering his things and leaves. Hyunjin snorts at the leader’s compliment, but his sparkly eyes can’t fool anyone.

He pulls out his phone to relay the happy news to you, but the sparks in his eyes quickly fade when his messages from hours ago are still unread.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” he asks.

Seungmin checks his phone. “5A.M.”

Hyunjin wipes his sweat, chugging his water. Their American tour starts in a few days, and while he’s ecstatic because they’ll be performing at LA Staples Center for the first time, he also feels uneasy.

He takes out his phone, opening his contacts and stops when he sees your name. He stares at the number he remembers by heart.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks. “If you’re worried about District 9’s formation change, don’t. You nailed it today.”

“District 9…” Hyunjin trails off. “We’re getting too old for District 9.”

Jeongin grunts in agreement. “Whenever we finish my head always spins for like a minute. It’s been too long.”

“Yah,” Seungmin scolds him. “You need to get it checked. What if there’s something wrong with your head?”

The youngest does an exaggerated head banging, earning a kick from the puppy-like boy. Hyunjin chuckles at the two’s antics; some things never really change, and he’s grateful that this is one of those things.

Seungmin throws a playful punch at Jeongin’s stomach one last time before focusing his gaze back on Hyunjin. “Seriously though, did something happen?”

Hyunjin’s brain has a lot of template answers to questions like this, but the cliché words on tip of his tongue feel burning. His friends wait patiently as he fumbles for words, blinking his tears away when he fails to find the right words.

“I don’t even know if there’s anything,” he finally concludes. “It’s just—ever since Bonsang, it’s been hard. It’s been… nothing. Empty.”

Seungmin and Jeongin only nod, as if they understand how he feels. They probably do, Hyunjin thinks. Maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe all of his members have experienced it at some point, although at different times. Hyunjin feels slightly relieved at the thought. I’m not insane.

When he was a trainee, he thought everything would be fine once he debuted. It was, to some extent. But he was young and naïve, and when things beyond his control happened, Hyunjin barely managed to stay afloat. People told him how to handle stress, how to voice out his concerns, how to manage his body, mind and soul. He knew how to survive, theoretically.

No one actually taught him nor the other boys, and for an 18 year-old boy, feelings got intense quickly. After some trials and errors, everyone figured that it was best not to bottle up their feelings. Once again, it sounded easy in theory. In reality, with so many things happening at once, most of them eventually created a space in their own heads to seal everything in. They endured.

Jeongin looks at him with hesitation, rubbing his hands together. “It happens,” he reassures him. “It’s okay to worry about it, hyung. But worry about it with me, please!” Jeongin raises his tone. “You can barge into my room anytime. You can annoy the hell out of me, but stop suffering alone, will you?!”

Seungmin can’t miss the chance to tease the maknae. “Says the one who cried alone all night long in the bathtub after losing his voice.”

“If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve passed out,” Hyunjin adds. Jeongin lifts his hands in defeat. “Whatever. But I meant what I said.”

“Our Jeongin is so dependable,” Hyunjin coos.

“You say that all the time.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “And then still baby me.”

Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s phone from the floor, passing it to the owner. “Call Y/N.”

Hyunjin panics a little. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Better days start after meeting the person you want to see the most!”

“Speaking of you and Y/N,” Jeongin quips. “You guys aren’t in high school anymore, stop flirting with each other and date already.”

Hyunjin gets a surge of bravery and dials your number, but immediately regrets his decision with each passing minute. He almost ends the call when you finally answer. “Hyunjin?”

“H-hi,” he stammers. “Busy?”

“Kind of... What? What happened?”

“Can we meet? I only need a couple of minutes. You’re in Seoul, right?”

“I am. Hyunjin, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

It’s scaring me too.

“I want to tell you in person. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

Hyunjin isn’t sure when the lines between best friends and something more started to get blurry. The worse thing is, he realized it way too late and things got complicated before he could do anything about it.

“It’s too late to back out,” he mouths to himself while opening the stairwell door in the hospital you’re currently at. You’re sitting on one of the steps, dozing off as your head hits the wall every now and then.

Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, guilt consuming him. He sits beside you, pulling your head to his right shoulder. The two of you always attended the same school until high school, when he decided to enroll in SOPA instead of a regular school. Since then, he never really knows what’s going on in your life. You told him about your close friends, the small fights, medical students’ inside jokes, the good looking boys, all the knowledge and experiences you’re grateful for despite the never-ending suffering and constant lack of sleep. You told him everything, but he’s never actually seen you in your world.

You’ve seen enough of his world—you’ve gone to his concerts, awards shows, even fansigns (as a prank because you wanted to see him getting all flustered while pretending not to know you). Hyunjin never has the time or makes an effort to do the same, and while it’s completely understandable due to the nature of his job, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

As he brushes your hair out of your face, Hyunjin asks himself whether he’s good enough for you.

“Whoa,” you suddenly whisper, straightening your body. “Did I fall asleep?”

Hyunjin stops you from getting up. “You must be tired.”

“So are you.” You remove his hand from your head. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

You’re here, sitting beside him, only wanting truth to come out of his mouth. Hyunjin bites his lip, the urge to just let go is eating him up, his soul begging him to get some answers. The familiar hollowness is back, and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time he cries in front of you, so you just pat his head, waiting for the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You lift his head, eyes looking straight into his. “What for?” you mutter. “Hyunjin, please tell me.”

Hyunjin makes a silent plead at himself to toughen up, but it’s hard when you’re staring at him like this, wide eyes filled with raw concern and sincerity that never fail to touch the deepest part of his heart. “Hmm?” you prompt, still patting his head ever so softly.

“It’s been hard,” Hyunjin sniffles. “It’s hard to look forward to the future. I feel restless all the time. I have nothing to fight for. It’s…,” He makes gestures with his hand in attempt to explain it better. “… empty.”

You wipe his tears with the sleeve of your white coat. “Do you know why you feel that way?”

Hyunjin nods. “We’re doing well, we really are… and that’s probably why. Everything is going too well I don’t know what thrills me anymore. I thought I’d feel content once I reached all of my dreams, but that’s not the case.”

He examines your face, rehearsing the next lines in his head again and again. You cock an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. And the last bit of Hyunjin’s defense crumbles with every blink of your pretty eyes.

“And you… I miss you all the time. Even when you’re right here with me, I still miss you. I have to hold back whenever I’m with you because I don’t want you to run away from me. I love you, Y/N. I don’t know when it all started but maybe I’ve always loved you and it hurts me not being able to tell you that. The emptiness… it gets worse whenever you tell me we shouldn’t be seen together or that you have to go or when you have other boys like Jaehyun who are clearly better for you than I am because they can be there for you. I love you so bad you don’t know how hard it is to go through days without you, without kissing you good night, without hearing you laugh for me. I keep thinking, ‘what if you’re suddenly gone?’ Maybe you’ll leave me someday, maybe you’ll tell me that you can’t be my friend anymore, but I need you, Y/N. I love you and I need you here with me to keep going. I—”

Hyunjin watches you slowly—very slowly—retract your hand from his head as words fail him, and he feels as if his guts are being hammered to pieces. He can’t read your eyes, can’t even try to define what your gaze means.

You eventually stand up, pulling him up with you. “I’m not the answer, Hyunjin,” you mutter. “You can’t expect that you’ll never feel empty again once I say that I accept your feelings. It’s just—it’s not fair. This isn’t just about us not being together.”

“But—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your body start shaking due to all the tension. “I know. That’s how you feel, and I can’t dictate you what to feel and not to feel. Think about it like this…”

You pause to check if he’s still listening to you. He nods, weakly.

“… you spent years working your ass off to get recognition from everyone, and you did it. Don’t ever forget that, I’m begging you. So all of your dreams have come true and you feel lost now… it’s okay. You have a lot of time, Hyunjin. You can always have a new dream, you can have a thousand more. Don’t make me the answer to everything just because you haven’t found any other answer.”

You wait for him to respond, but Hyunjin is frozen to his spot. His world is now upside down, and he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix everything.

Your phone rings, snapping him out of his trance. You look at him apologetically. “I have to go.” Those damn words again. “Ask Seungmin to help you ice your face, you don’t want to show up at the airport with swollen eyes, do you? Call me before you take off, okay? Hyunjin?”

He can only nod, trying his best to give you the most reassuring smile. He feels everything all at once: shock, shame, sadness… but mostly regret because you’re right.

You always are.

“Have fun on tour! Send me all the photos you take!”

Now it’s turn for Hyunjin’s phone to ring as you make your way out, leaving him alone. He’s about to press the green button when the door opens once again. Hyunjin lets his phone ring, watching you fidget with your hands.

He’s still pretty much tongue-tied, but forces himself to ask, “Did you ever… love me? As more than friends?”

To his surprise, you take quick steps towards him, tiptoeing to press your lips on his. Your eyes are closed, your hands are tied to your sides and it takes Hyunjin his whole willpower to refrain himself from pulling your body closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the life out of you. He closes his eyes and just stands there, accepting whatever you’re willing to give him because there’s nothing he yearns more than your love and trust.

Hyunjin almost whines when you pull away with red cheeks and teary eyes. “Come back to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you. Only you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s 10th (or 11th? He can’t really remember) visit to New York, but he’s still as excited as a kid with his lollipop. After years of traveling from country to country, Hyunjin realizes that he just doesn’t get bored, ever. Each place holds a special memory he keeps close to his heart, something sentimental that motivates him to go back every chance he gets.

“Stand there,” he motions at Seungmin—the only one who’s willing to accompany him walking around the Empire State Building for the nth time—to stand at the spot he points at. Seungmin follows his instruction, smiling when Hyunjin starts counting. They examine the result and Seungmin shoves his leg. “I guess you finally learned something.”

Hyunjin feigns hurt, setting his camera’s focus on a group of kids, holding his breath before pressing the shutter. “As if you taught me anything.”

He glances at his bandmate who’s busy taking photos with his own camera. Photo hunting with Seungmin is always in Hyunjin’s “limited free time” itinerary. They’ve strolled around so many cities together, sometimes it takes the whole day if time allows them. Strangely, Seungmin never gets bored of it either and although it’s no surprise since he loves photography more than anything else, Hyunjin is grateful.

“You never say no whenever I ask you to take photos with me,” Hyunjin states. “Why?”

Seungmin frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering,” Hyunjin mumbles. “We do pretty much the same thing everytime. Sometimes I force you to go to the places we’ve been to… don’t you get bored?”

“It’s always different everytime, I thought that’s why sometimes you take photos at the same place? It’s never exactly the same, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin goes through the photos he took in New York last year, smiling at some of them as he recalls the funny anecdotes behind them. When he slips his phone back into his jeans pocket and lets his eyes wander… yes, nothing is exactly the same.

“You truly are a photographer. When’s your next exhibition, Photographer Kim?”

Seungmin snaps his finger. “Ah! Exhibition! I forgot to ask you, why don’t we held a joint exhibition this time?”

“You want to show your photos along with my photos?”

“Why not? Yours are amazing too! And you’re my best friend, it’ll be fun.”

Hyunjin imagines having his photo framed on the wall. Small placards pinned underneath, containing the words he constructs to explain each of them. The fans will come to feel how it feels like to be here behind the lens. Maybe people who don’t even know him will come too, and get a chance to actually know him.

He reaches his phone to relay the idea to you, smiling to himself when he finds messages from you instead.

y/n: [sends a picture]

y/n: ahreum finally woke up today! isnt she pretty?

me: everyone is prettier than you

me: you must be happy!!

y/n: ??????

y/n: oh. she asked me to recommend boygroup songs

y/n: i made her listen to every single skz song

y/n: and your solo songs!!!!

me: awwwwwww

me: and you cant be doing this for free right?

“Is that your best friend slash girlfriend?” Seungmin is suddenly standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. “You guys are so cute it’s making me feel sick.”

Hyunjin sighs, gazing at the busy street upon him. “We’re not dating. At least not yet.”

“What happened? Just realized that I never really asked.”

“She asked me to come to her when I’m ready.”

Seungmin looks at him quizzically, but decides not to press him further. “Are you ready now?”

They’re flying back to Seoul next week, and while he thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the tour, he truly did. He thinks of all the good things that have happened: the sold out shows, the happy tears, his improvement, the upcoming exhibition with Seungmin, and lastly, you—the one who’s patiently waiting for him.

There have been a lot of times when Hyunjin feels like he’s everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It sounds scary, but now he realizes that he only needs to admit that he’s indeed everywhere, but never nowhere.

“Almost.”

The instrumental of Grow Up starts to play and all the boys rush back to their designated positions. The atmosphere turns a bit more sentimental as the bridge approaches, they’re just looking at each other while Minho is singing his part. In the past, they often teased each other during this very part, afraid that they would break down if they let their emotions overtake them. Hyunjin averts his gaze to the audience, watching the beautiful color of their lightsticks light up the huge stadium. As he gestures at some of the fans to stop crying, Hyunjin thanks himself for convincing the others to add the song back to their setlist.

The song comes to an end, and Chan gathers everyone to make a circle. Hyunjin feels pats on his head and back, Chan’s voice drowned by the fans who are still singing. He can’t resist the urge to turn around, so he does just that, and what he won’t trade what he sees for anything.

Their fans are standing there, eyes focused on everyone on stage as they sing each syllable perfectly. Changbin follows his gaze, and soon all of them are facing the audience again, listening to every wish, every hope, and every message relayed through the lyrics of the song.

Hyunjin lifts his mic, eyes darting to Chan who gives him a nod of approval. “Thank you,” he begins. “This is our last stop for this tour, and I can’t be any prouder and thankful to all of you.”

He lets the translator translate his speech before continuing, “I had a lot of worries before the tour started. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to go through everything.”

“You made our dreams come true,” Hyunjin continues. “You made my dreams come true and I naively thought that was the end of everything. But I learned a lot during this tour, and once again, you made this happen. All the pretty words you told us, they mean a lot. They always will. I realized that this will always be my dream, no matter how many times this has come true. I want to make you, who stay with us throughout everything, happy. I want to be here for a very long time. I want to be with you, to be with the members and our family, for a very long time.”

He stops when he feels he can’t continue anymore, letting the others take the spotlight. He gives each of his bandmates with a loving gaze, stopping at Minho who lets tears roll down his cheeks this time. Jeongin is giggling beside him, walking over to wrap the tsundere hyung in a firm hug.

Hyunjin thinks they’ve really come a long way.

Being back home usually gives Hyunjin a peace of mind, but when he sees no notification on his phone, he feels weird. He dials his mother’s number, his heart grows even more anxious when she picks up.

“Oh Hyunjin-ah, did you just land?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you come over here? Or do you have an important schedule?”

“No, we get 2 days off. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s sister passed away. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we didn’t want you to panic.”

“Eomma! How could you?”

“I’m sorry. This is Y/N’s request as well. She’s been here for 2 days and no one can make her eat anything. Can you take her home?”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re going to live in Germany! You’re such a lucky kid!”

The little girl smiles bashfully as you pout at her. “The luckiest girl on Earth,” you add, fixing her messy hair.

“If you’re so jealous of me, why don’t you come along?”

“Are you kidding?” you exclaim. “I’m on my way to be the greatest doctor in this country. You can’t change my mind.”

“Alright, it’s time to go,” your father interrupts, giving you one last hug before whispering things into your ear. Hyunjin steps back to allow you say goodbye to your family, tearing up at the painful sight. Your father, a doctor, accepts an offer to work in a hospital in Germany and takes the whole family with him since your sick little sister needs more intensive treatment.

But you’re staying to become a great doctor like your father, hoping you’ll get a chance to cure your sister later.

“Please take care of her, Hyunjin. We trust you,” your mother tells him. Hyunjin nods, enveloping your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here monitoring her every move and drag her back home whenever she spends too much time at the academy.”

Your sister laughs, bowing to Hyunjin. “I also want a boyfriend like Hyunjinoppa! Please take care of our unnie.”

You yank your hand away from him. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Hyunjin seems unbothered by your statement, bowing to your family to annoy you more. “Our family will take care of her, you can trust us.”

Your sister’s smiling face greets Hyunjin as he enters the funeral home. He stares at the photo then closes his eyes to pray, whispering strings of apologies that’s always too late. I’m sorry I never visited you. I’m sorry I failed to take care of your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t call you enough.

He bows to your family, the first bow since years ago, and he wishes he could turn back time. Hyunjin turns to you, gazing into your tired eyes. Your mother pulls him towards you. “She hasn’t eaten at all. Can you please bring her home, Hyunjin? I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry that we meet like this.”

“Hyunjin just landed in Seoul. How could you force him to come here?” you snap, returning his gaze. “Go home. I’ll call you later.”

Hyunjin almost yells in frustration, but swallows everything before dragging you out, only tightening his grip on your wrist when you try to pry his hand off of you. You keep shouting at him, yelling at him to stop, but Hyunjin doesn’t budge. He drags you all the way to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

Without waiting for you to move, he lifts your body and sits you down, fastening your seatbelt. “Please don’t push me away,” he pleads. “Why do you always tell me go home, go back to practice, to leave… why?! I promised your parents to take care of you. I promised your sister, why aren’t you letting me do that?!”

“I never asked you to do that,” you mutter through gritted teeth, causing Hyunjin to grip your shoulders.

“You only said that to hurt me,” he replies. “Even now you’re still trying to push me away. I want to be here Y/N. Don’t you want me here?”

You avoid his eyes, keeping your gaze on your clasped hands. “Tell me,” Hyunjin challenges. “Tell me that you don’t want me to stay with you, and I’ll leave.”

He waits for you to respond, letting out a relieved sigh he doesn’t bother hiding when you shake your head. “Want you here. Thank you.”

“Have you cried?”

After your sister was born, you were told not to shed tears in front of her. Your parents always scolded you if you started crying when you saw her in pain, and after some time, it became a habit. A habit that Hyunjin absolutely despises since it makes you suppress your feelings, as if punishing you for having feelings.

“I don’t know… maybe I haven’t.”

“You lost your sister, you can cry. Your parents cried a lot too, it’s fine.”

You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck when tears start to well up. Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple, finding himself tearing up the moment you start sobbing, something he has never witnessed although he’s known you for almost his whole life.

“Is this your Armani suit?” you manage to voice in the middle of sobs and snorts. He takes you into his embrace, chuckling, “Yes, but you can ruin it however you want. Another privilege as my best friend.”

“Can I abuse this privilege?”

“Ruining my expensive suits?”

“No,” you laugh airily. “Crying when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin cups your wet cheeks, gently pushing your hands away when you want to wipe your tears away. “Anytime. You can cry, laugh, curse, get angry, get drunk… you can do anything when you’re with me.”

And that’s all it takes before you start sobbing into his suit again. Hyunjin is standing there for the longest time, sandwiched by the passenger seat and door of his car with you in his arms. He doesn’t care, he will do it all over again, and he will do much more. For you, and only you.

“Where are you? It’s past midnight already!”

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’re lucky I’m willing to go home when I have a morning shift tomorrow,” you scold him over the phone.

“It’s my birthday! Wait, it isn’t even my birthday anymore!” he whines in an obnoxious tone that never fails to upset you. He giggles when he hears you huff, the sound of the elevator signaling that you’ve already arrived.

“You asked me to buy you a cake right before I left,” you hiss. “Now open the door, I’m outside.”

The call ends and Hyunjin rushes to the door. You’re carrying the red velvet cake he requested, the candles already lit and Hyunjin tries not to melt at the way you look at him. He did ask you to buy him a cake and “surprise” him at your apartment, but he is nowhere near ready to see you like this: all smiley and cheery for him despite sounding annoyed over the phone.

“Happy birthday,” you sing song, your smile growing wider as he blows the candle. Hyunjin returns your smile before taking the cake from you, pulling you towards your room. “Go get changed, I’ll slice the cake for you.”

A few minutes later, both of you are seated on your couch, talking about every little thing while enjoying the cake. Hyunjin tells you about Stray Kids’ upcoming comeback, a very special one since Minho choreographed the title track. You tell him about various cases that happened in the hospital while wondering if you’ll ever finish medical school and actually be a doctor.

Everything feels the way Hyunjin expects it to be, until you put your empty plate on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “Hyunjin…”

He quickly swallows and places his plate on the table as well, never breaking eye contact with you. “What?”

You gulp. “Do you remember when I asked you to come find me when you’re ready?”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Well,” you murmur. “I’m just wondering if you’re… ready.”

Fire lights up in his stomach, and before you can continue, Hyunjin is already trapping you between his body and the couch. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

You brush his fringe with your fingers. “You were waiting for me?”

“You told me to start dreaming again, so I did,” Hyunjin recalls. “And I realized that all of my dreams are right in front of me—you, my family, the hyungs, Jeongin, the fans… keeping you guys with me is something I’ll always dream of although all of you are already here.”

You pout at him, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the proud gleam in your eyes. “Then what’s taking you so long?”

He pinches your nose. “I waited for you to be ready, as you said before, it wasn’t just about us being together. I don’t want you to choose me only because you feel like you need me. I want you to… want me… to love me with a clear head. Just like what you wanted me to do. I want to give you the world, but only if you allow me to.”

You circle your arms around his neck, sighing happily, “You gave me the world, Hyunjin. You listen to me, you console me, you give me a shoulder to cry on. You’re the only one I’ve ever waited for, and I’m so glad that you came back to me.”

Hyunjin is sure that his whole system has stopped working, the words you just uttered feel like the strongest, yet the sweetest liquor he’s ever tasted. He is drunk on the love you offer; he’s drunk on your touch, your smile and everything you want to give him. You’re driving him nuts, completely nuts, but it’s the only thing he wants to feel. You are the only one he yearns to feel.

You seem to sense his burning gaze and start nibbling on your bottom lip. “So this is the part where you kiss me…”

“This is the part where I kiss you…”

You shake your head. “This feels weird. You’re my best friend.”

“You kissed me,” Hyunjin reminds you. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

“No, but—” You pause to let yourself breathe. “I kissed you. This is different, I’m not going to survive you kissing me.”

“For the love of God Y/N, just—”

You point at your lips. “And I still have my lipgloss on!”

Hyunjin is caressing your reddening cheek now, trying to destroy the last bit of your defense. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asks softly.

“It’s sticky! Our lips will get stuck and it won’t be romantic.”

“So what do you want to do? Go into your room and wipe it off with a cotton pad or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do—”

Hyunjin doesn’t let you finish as he finally dives in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that set both of you on fire. He hums when he feels your body relax in his hold, allowing him to savor you with so much longing and want. Hyunjin lets his heart take the lead, kissing you harder whenever you tug the ends of his hair and making him putty under your touch. It never feels enough, it feels like he only gets hungrier everytime you return his kiss, the feeling of your lips moving against his almost destroys him.

Nothing is stopping him now, he came back to you and you welcomed him with open arms. Hyunjin leaves one more open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling away with a loud pop, taking in the sight of you trying to breathe. You slowly meet his eyes with flushed cheeks, eyes mirroring his own and Hyunjin tries to remember every single detail. “God I love you so much,” he hears himself whisper.

You smile, lifting your hand to trace his face delicately. “I love you.”

“Are you mine now?” Hyunjin knows this is childish, but he wants to hear it. He longs to hear it.

Thankfully, you’re willing to play his game tonight. “Only yours.”

“No more mourning over Jung Jaehyun?”

“Jesus Christ, do you need to stoop that low.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin pecks your nose. “He doesn’t listen to K-pop, right? Introduce him to me.”

You roll your eyes. “I love you, why the hell are we talking about Jaehyun now?”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Since we’re on a competition to ruin the mood, lemme burst your bubble: my parents are moving back in next week so we need another place to do... this.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers. “What are we gonna do now?”

You wrap your legs around his torso, making him gasp. “I don’t know, kiss me again? I’m gonna tell you this just once, but I, along with thousands of other people, have always wanted to kiss you. It made me feel pathetic, but it is what it is.”

Hyunjin blushes, but refuses to lose to you. “You tried to make me not kiss you a few minutes ago and now you’re desperate to kiss me. Was I that good?”

“Hmmm I guess so,” you hum.

He swiftly lifts your body, grinning when you tighten your hold around his neck. “Well, I’m yours to kiss now,” he teases, trying to walk into room without knocking into things. You leave soft kisses all over his face, prompting Hyunjin to walk faster so he could just kiss you already.

When your back hit your bed, Hyunjin stops to admire your face. “I kissed you a long time ago, don’t you remember?”

Your eyes widen. “You? Kissed me? With those plush lips? When?!”

“You don’t remember? But it was our first kiss!”

You spend the next few minutes racking your brain before nodding. “Ah, it did happen a long time ago.”

“It’s okay, maybe you wanted to forget that moment. It was your darkest time, and I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb along his lip. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.”

Hyunjin closes the gap between you once again, hoping to chase away all the sorrow inside your soul. You pull him closer, making him practically lying on top of you, feeling your chest rise with each touch of his lips on your skin. “Thank you,” a kiss on each of your eye, “for,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, “making me,” a kiss on your lips—this time he lets it linger, “dream,” a kiss on your chin, “again,” and a kiss on your neck.

It took Hyunjin so long to understand the world, and now he still hasn’t understood even half of it. But in the middle of his journey, he met you. He learned to dream, he learned to love you.

And he learned to love himself.

The door opens with a bang, revealing an incredibly panicked Hyunjin. He just finished training when he received a call from you, who said nothing but, “I won’t let you walk home alone.” You wouldn’t end the call throughout his way home, but refused to say anything else and almost making Hyunjin dash to the police station.

Hyunjin sees your shadow, letting out a small scream when he spots you lying on the floor in the dark. He runs to you, about to carry you back into your room when you stop him. “I feel like crying,” you rasp, choking on your saliva. “I can’t stop it.”

It’s been a month since your family left, and while you’re trying your best to be a big girl and live the way you always do, it’s not easy. Hyunjin lies beside you, eyes locked on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You never cry loudly. You never sob nor wail. You just cry silently, mostly in the dark so you can’t see yourself crying.

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, hovering over you before tracing your tears with his lips as if it can stop them. He pecks every wet spot, slowly getting to your lips. He leaves a chaste, barely-there kiss before wrapping his arms around you, whispering comforting things until you start falling asleep on the hard floor.

Hyunjin hopes you’ll allow yourself to cry however you wish to someday.

a/n: i was so happy writing this that i almost cried when i finished because i know i’m going to miss writing this one. this story feels so sentimental, happy and sad at the same time and probably that’s why i feel so attached to it. ive wanted to write this since last year, even before “give my heart a chance”. i always wondered what would happen after we reach our dreams and i hope you’ll feel a little better after reading this (especially if you’re experiencing the same thing). this story is a long journey, but i hope you’ll enjoy it. 

[crimson-dxwn]

Room 8297 (Fox/Mouse Companion Piece)

When you try and write a little companion one-shot and end up creating an OC complete with backstory and appearance…

So @detroitbydark and I were having a little convo about what the nurses on Mouse’s ward think about the constant Coruscant Guard presence and I got a little carried away. She was gracious enough to let me write a little scene from one of the nurses’ POV. 

Warnings: Angst. A lot of it (I’m a dramatic bitch). Medical stuff, nothing explicit. 

Word Count: 1,900 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ It was finally the end of her shift. It had been another frantic, exhausting day. The Medcenter was understaffed and it seemed like Tekla always had one more task to do, more charting, endless paperwork. She allowed herself a stretch from her gray-wrapped lekku down to her toes before lowering herself into a seat. She’d been getting ready for sign-out to the night shift when an alarm went off from one of her rooms. SW-8297.

Mouse, she’d heard one of the soldiers call her. A strange nickname, but the men guarding her door said it with such fondness that Tekla couldn’t help but attach it to her patient too. Only in her head, of course. Tekla hadn’t been out of school long, but she prided herself on her professionalism and bedside manner. As she checked the alarm on the screen before her, other nurses hustled around, busy with last minute vitals checks and scribbling down notes for the next shift.

Tekla checked her wrist chrono. She’d given Mouse her last dose of pain medication an hour ago, which should have kicked in by now. Luckily, the woman was young and healthy and had been recovering well. By far the strangest part of her stay had been the fact that she was under constant guard. 

According to her chart, she’d been mugged on her way home from work. Tekla had overheard the medics saying that the man had been caught, so she wasn’t completely sure who or what the red-and-white-clad clone soldiers were watching out for. But they kept watch nonetheless. An endless rotation stood perfectly still at attention, never faltering, never a piece of armor out of place. Their discipline was impressive. Working at a civilian Medcenter didn’t give Tekla a lot of chances to interact with them, but she knew from the Holonet News that they had helped liberate Ryloth from the Separatists in the early years of the war. They seem like good men. Their brothers probably saved my family. As Tekla walked the unit, she would occasionally get a peek at their guard changes. Usually the men spoke briefly for a while, laughed and joked sometimes. They seemed more concerned with her patient’s well-being than randomly assigned soldiers would. They must know her.

Sighing deeply, she rose from her seat at the nurse’s station and headed towards 8297. It was more likely that the alarm was from a malfunction or Mouse moving around in her sleep than anything serious, as she’d been prone to nightmares over the last week. It wasn’t uncommon after being attacked. Mouse’s overnight nurse, Miri, had told her at the beginning of her shift that the slight woman had woken the night before, disoriented, screaming. The trooper on watch had been able to calm her down without having to use any meds, but she’d still slept poorly. Tekla prayed Mouse wasn’t having another nightmare. Her thrashing tended to spike her pain to unbearable levels. She was getting discharged tomorrow, or that was the plan at the moment, and she needed all the rest she could get. The last guard outside Mouse’s door had been attired differently from the rest, with inverted armor colors and a dark visor adorning his helmet. Tekla thought she spotted the Senate seal on one of his shoulders as she’d rushed by earlier. She was good at noticing patterns, and she knew for sure she’d never seen that armor before.

The injuries her patient had arrived with had been serious - a through-and-through shot to the right abdomen and a blaster graze on her left shoulder. She’d spent days in a bacta tank, and even after that she’d needed inpatient care.  No cuts, bruises, or scrapes though, except for some transparisteel lodged into the back of her neck. No scratches from fingernails, no dirt or grime on her shoes or clothes. Working on Coruscant, Tekla had seen her fair share of assault victims. Mouse’s injuries were unusual for a mugging, to say the least, but who was she to argue with the Jedi that brought her in? Jedi don’t lie…do they? She continued to ponder her blasphemous question as she made her way towards Mouse’s room. Regardless of the suspicious nature of her injuries, whoever had shot her was no professional, judging by their aim. The woman was lucky the bastard didn’t know their way around a blaster - guess it wasn’t much of a shock they’d caught the man so soon.

As she entered the hallway, the absence of a guard outside Mouse’s room immediately took her by surprise. Probably just another nightmare. The pain meds likely aren’t helping either. That didn’t stop Tekla from increasing her pace. Until she reached the doorway, that is. Voices were just audible, one male which she didn’t recognize, and the other female, which she knew immediately to be Mouse’s. Unbearably curious, she stopped to listen for a moment.

“…leave once I do.” “Yes, that was the deal,” she heard the male voice say. “You’re not going to come back,” replied Mouse. “No, cyar’ika. I’m not.” Tekla felt the finality in his statement, all the way from the doorway.

After a moment of silence, Tekla poked her head into the room. The trooper was in bed with her, blood-red armor still on save for his helmet and a glove. They were curled around each other, face-to-face, her with one hand on his neck and his ungloved hand stroking softly through her hair. His eyes were closed, brow knitted ever so slightly, as if he was in pain too.

Tekla may have been new, but she certainly wasn’t stupid. He and Mouse were together. So this was the reason she had what amounted to an honor guard outside her room. They looked so peaceful, lying together on the bed. There was no way she could disturb them like this. Mouse’s vitals had been stable up until now and her color was good. Better, actually. From the door, Tekla could see the small woman’s chest rising and falling slowly. Leaving them for a little while longer isn’t going to hurt anything, she thought to herself. She felt intensely voyeuristic, even though they were both fully clothed and Mouse was mostly tucked under the blankets. He’d been courteous enough to leave his twin pistols on the table by the window. She was glad; blasters made Tekla nervous. Both of them looked like they needed rest. Who was she to say that having him there wouldn’t help Mouse get better?

Then, right before she turned to leave, the clone’s eyes snapped open and met hers. They flicked to his blasters on the table beside her, protectively down to Mouse in his arms, and then at the floor, shame flashing hot as he looked away. But he didn’t move a muscle - she even thought she saw him tighten his arms around Mouse ever so slightly. Tekla lowered her eyes in response and carefully closed the door just a bit more to give them some privacy.

—————

She made her way back to the nurse’s station, which by now was packed with everyone getting ready for sign-out. Her coworkers were chatting excitedly, eager to head home, exchanging gossip and stories from the day they’d been too busy to relay earlier. Tekla wondered what had to have happened between Mouse and the trooper for him to take so long to come see her, and then to leave her? It seemed incredibly cruel. She moved to sit, and a familiar voice wrenched her out of her musings. Le-Tii, one of the veteran nurses on the unit had taken the chair next to hers and was eyeing her suspiciously.

“You know patients aren’t supposed to have visitors past 1700, Tekla. You’ve been here long enough.” 

“She’s fine,” Tekla offered. “I didn’t want to disturb them like that. Plus he’s not exactly a visitor.” 

The stout man huffed in annoyance. “Please tell me they at least had their clothes on.”

“Yes!” Tekla was flabbergasted. 

“Hm. Good,” he picked at his nails, clearly bored. “’cause I’m not quite sure I approve of my taxes paying for the Republic’s finest to screw my patients in their downtime.”

“Well I think it’s sweet,” Tekla retorted. She felt some sort of protectiveness over Mouse. She was so patient and kind compared to some of the other patients that she cared for, and the woman had obviously been through a lot. How much harm could one night with him do?

“He’s a Commander, you know. Guards the Chancellor personally,” the man said, opening a ration bar, “If you look close on the Holonet you can tell it’s him. His armor’s different.”

A lowered voice from behind her back had joined the conversation. 

“I bet he’s the one who shot her.” Looked like Miri was here for her shift.

Tekla gaped as the meaning of Miri’s words sank in. She felt better about her reaction when she looked over at Le-Tii, who was sporting the same expression.

“No, hear me out. She’s been here, what, over a week? And he’s come here three times. Twice I saw him turn on his heel and rush out before he even got past the nurse’s station.”

“That’s ridiculous, Miri.” Tekla couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She shook her head. “No. Why would he-”

“-when do they ever need a reason? She woke up screaming his name last night and he hasn’t come to visit her once.” 

“That’s a horrible thing to say.” The thought terrified Tekla. It hadn’t crossed her mind in the whole time she’d been caring for Mouse. She thought back to the image of the two lovers lying in the bed together, to the look in the man’s eyes when he saw Tekla in the doorway. No. There was no way he did this.

“It’s not horrible if it’s the truth.” Le-Tii offered, finally deciding to contribute to the conversation. 

“Well I just checked on them and she’s actually looking better now than she did the whole day, so take that as you will.” 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Miri replied, indignantly as ever. 

The human woman was always fond of reminding Tekla that she had more experience than her. Something in her manner told her that the other girl had something against Twi’leks. Or maybe it was just non-humans...and clones, apparently.

To Tekla’s relief, Miri dropped the subject and they began their sign-out routine. Right before they handed off their last patient, Tekla noticed a flash of red at the corner of her vision. He’s leaving, she thought, poor Mouse. He walked past the nurse’s station, head studying the floor, trying to be inconspicuous. He wasn’t successful. Almost every head in the group turned to watch as he made his way to the lift. A bizarre silence made its way over the usually animated group. Not once did the visored helmet turn back.

“Good riddance,” she heard Miri mutter under her breath. “All those things know how to do is kill.”

—————— -Later that night-

Tekla hesitated before she typed the word into the search bar on her datapad. Cyarika. She hoped she spelled it correctly. 

The results popped up and she studied the first entry: Mando’a to Basic Dictionary. Cyar’ika: n., beloved.

[donttellpeterparker]

HSMTMTS Part 3

Summary: Coming into Junior Year things were going to be different. With my handsome and sweet Senior boyfriend on my arm, I could do and be anything I wanted, nothing was going to stop me... except... of course... maybe him.

Requested: Yes xx I am getting too carried away with this I am so sorry xo

Word Count: 2.9k+

Warning(s)?: Do I even need to say it? Angst. Buildups seem to be my thing ;) (Italics in quotation are lyrics), Written in third and first person which is something different, Yes this is following the script from the show so please no comments about how it's exactly like it because... that's kinda the point :)

Taglist: Open

masterlist

——————————————————

HSMTMTS

Over the next month rehearsals grew hectic. It was everyday after school, even occasionally a few hours on Saturday too. I grew accustomed to the nervousness I still felt around Peter during practice but I got use to it after a while, trying to focus on EJ or my friends instead. I wasn't going to let my old self complicate things for the new me during this production.

Things were a little tense between EJ and I too, ever since he dropped the L-bomb... I kind of bee avoiding him a little apart from practice. We began hanging out less and less, the both of just claiming we were too busy or too tired to catch up. It honestly worked for me while I sorted my feelings out.

So seeing as I was... kinda avoiding EJ, I may or may not have made a quick dash to the theater room when I saw him down the hallway. I lent my back against the door and sighed in relief, grateful for not running into him yet. A faint melody was coming from the stage so I moved closer, the sound of the piano keys filling my ears. Unfortunately, the girl, who I learnt a few weeks ago to be EJ's cousin, spun around so quickly in fright.

''I am so sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here'' I apologized, sending her a smile. She sent a stiff one back and began packing away her things.

''Wait no-''

''I can be gone in like 7 seconds, 6 if I don't zip my bag...'' She stopped once she felt my hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

''Please don't, what were you playing?'' I asked nicely. She glanced up and sent a shy smile back, turning to face her music notes.

''Oh, that. It's um.... Miss Jen asked me to compose a song for my character. It's probably way too much. But I'm playing Miss Darbus, the teach...''

''I know who you're playing, Ashlyn. I sat across from you at the read-through'' We both nodded.

''Besides, your EJ's cousin'' I smiled. She frowned and quickly glanced away, shaking her head frantically.

''We don't have to talk about EJ'' She said, growing nervous again.

''Okay... what about that song then?''I asked with a hopeful smile. She sighs but nods her head, placing her slightly shaky hands over the keys. She began to play, a sweet melody sound drifting through the air around us. It was beautiful.

''Seems like a part of me will always have to lose... Every single time I have to choose... Swore that it felt right, but was I wrong?... Is this where I'm supposed to be at all?... I don't have the answers, not today... It' like nothing makes the questions go away...'' I couldn't help but to smile, loving the sound of her voice and the song. I bit my lip as I continued to listen to the lyrics, finding myself now leaning against the piano.

''On the other side of all I had and lost... Would it be enough... Or would I still be wondering?...'' She looks at me, tilting her head slightly to her notes for me to join in. I smile and nod, glancing down at the notes and making sure I was already on pitch.

''If I could go back and change the past... Be a little braver than I had... And bet against the odds... Would I still be lost?... Even If I woke up in my dreams... Would there still be something I'm missing?... If I had everything... Would it mean anything?...'' We sang together in perfect harmony, glancing to each other with small smiles.

Peter raced through the hallway and towards backstage. He stopped running once his gaze fell upon the two girls by the piano, one sitting down and a familiar one leaning against it. Y/N, he thought with a smile. He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to be noticed by either of you yet.

''Maybe I should turn around and take the other road... Or maybe I'm just looking for what I already know... I'm just wondering... It felt like I might have broke the best thing that I had... I said too much to ever take it back... I'm scared I'll never find something as good... And would I even know it if I could?'' My voice lowered a little too match the tone I was feeling with the music. Once Ashlyn began playing her notes I went higher as well. I moved to sit down beside her. Peter stepped closer as well, feeling entranced by her with every word she sung perfectly and with heart.

''If I could go back and change the past... Be a little braver than I had... And bet against the odds... Would I still be lost?... Even if I woke up in my dreams... Would there still be something I'm missing?... If I had everything... Would it mean anything... To me?...'' I trailed off softly, letting my voice drift. Ashlyn glanced over once she saw Peter, a frown settling on her face. I frowned myself, wondering what she was looking at before turning around myself. I gulped a little, my hands beginning to go clammy.

''Uh, we're back'' Peter spoke up, his voice breaking slightly.

''What?'' I asked, feeling too lost to really know what he was talking about.

''Downstairs. Miss Jen wants to see everyone in the bomb shelter'' He had to stop looking at me like that, like I was some porcelain doll that was going to break or some lost puppy. I shook my head and glanced down at my hands.

''We'll be down in a minute'' I used a dismissive tone, hoping he would leave. He soon did. I sighed and rose from the piano, smiling towards Ashlyn before leaving the stage, walking out the door and back into the hallway.

~*~*~*~*

Peter bit his lip anxiously, pacing back and forth on the stairwell. He couldn't be like this anymore, he couldn't continue to talk to her or be near her as if they were friends. He wanted to much more than that. Deep down, he knew she would never take him back, not like this but he had no choice. Ned had been bugging him to just tell her the truth but he was scared, telling her the truth meant putting her life in danger. She was so much safer not knowing, safer and hating him.

Maybe all of this was for the best. Ned thought he was a big wuss and he was, her safety meant so much more to him then whether or not she'll ever like him again... well... maybe not quite.

''God, come on Peter'' He sighed to himself, raising a hand to his forehead. It had been a little over 3 months since the break up yet everything still felt so fresh for him. The guilt was gnawing away at him, chipping bits and pieces of his sanity away. He needed to get it off his chest but... was he really going to do it over voicemail?

''It's me. Your... buddy, Peter. Sorry to bother you. I know we don't do voice convos... anymore, but I saw you singing with Ashlyn today, and I felt like we shared a moment, or a thing. I don't know, maybe a moment is a thing? Why am I still talking? Anyway, whatever. If this voicemail is too much, or too soon, or you're not into it, we can just ignore this and pretend nothing ever happened, okay? Poof! Gone. Okay, bye'' Peter hung up quickly, gripping his head in embarrassment. He paced the entire time, his face growing redder and redder as he stumbled over his words. God he sounded so pathetic. A part of him hoped she never listens to the voicemail.

''Good going, Peter'' He sarcastically said to himself, bounding down the steps before his next class could begin.

~*~*~*~*

''You need to return this. Now'' Ashlyn argued with EJ, the both of them sitting in his car in front of the school. She was already feeling guilty about what he had done, she didn't want to be an accomplice too.

''I know'' Ej sighed to himself, taking the phone from his cousins grasp.

''Y/N could still be inside''

''I know'' He hated himself a little for doing it but he had to. He knew something was up with Peter and didn't trust him when it came to her.

''For the love of God, do not listen to that voicemail'' EJ had been so tempted to answer the phone when it rang, wanting to curse Peter out as soon as his name popped up on the screen.

''I will! I mean, I won't'' Unfortunately Ashlyn knew her cousin too well. She knew he was about to do something stupid.

''You're gonna listen to it, aren't you?'' It was more of a rhetorical question.

''Why don't you believe me?'' Deep down, he knew she was right.

''Forget the ride, I'll walk home'' She scoffs, hoping out of the car. EJ watches her walks off and huffs to himself, pressing his hands against the steering wheel in aggravation. His eyes dart to the Y/N's phone still in his hand. Without giving it another thought, he quickly played the voicemail, holding the phone against his ear.

~*~*~*~*

(A day later)

''This is not good'' Peter mumbles to himself, hanging upside down on his roof. He usually found himself like this whenever he was deep in concentration. Ned just laid across his bed, throwing a ball in the air, a few times Peter using his webs to knock it around a bit.

''I know'' Ned agreed, mainly paying attention to catching the ball as it fell back down.

''No, this is really not good'' Peter emphasized more to gain his friends attention.

''Yeah, but it's not news either'' That stung Peter a little. He frowned, slowly swinging down from his position back onto the ground.

''You broke her heart, crashed her play, you bugged her then left her a sad voicemail'' Ned points out all of the errors, secretly driving Peter mad.

''You think I should move on?...'' Peter trails off, not wanting to hear Ned say 'yes'. He needed to win her back, he lo-

liked her, a lot.

''I wouldn't, but you have that other thing'' Ned states, throwing the ball back up in the air. Peter grew confused.

''What other thing?'' He asked, shooting a web to grab his drink from the desk. Ned just rolled his eyes, throwing his arms out before sitting up.

''The whole Spider-man thing'' Ned spoke up sarcastically, Peter eyes widening.

''You dated the girl for a year yet never told her the truth, how do you think she'll respond now?'' Ned asks, looking at Peter.

''She can't know, Ned'' Peter absolutely refused it. He did everything he could to protect her from his alter-ego's life.

''I agree, but secrets have a way of coming out, I just think it's better if she hears it from you rather than someone else... that someone else probably trying to kill her'' Ned was being sarcastic but Peter deep down had a terrible feeling. He couldn't even imagine her being in a situation like that. It scared him to death.

''Luckily, you're the only one who knows'' Peter sighed, he left The Avengers out of it, knowing they would never become involved anyway.

''Yeah, for now'' Peter scowled.

~*~*~*~*

(Next afternoon)

''Okay, let's take it from the top. Remember, those two are 'best bros', which is a sacred thing, for reasons I will never understand. Ready?'' Mrs Jen spoke up, holding the directing folder in her arms. Peter and EJ stepped forward, both of them not glancing towards to each other. The tension grew thick in the air, awkwardness surrounding everyone on stage. Mrs Jen cleared her throat then signals for the boys to start.

''We had a meeting how we haven't been like a team, Troy. Us, not you... And the singing thing-'' Ej begins, getting into his 'Chad' character.

''I don't want to talk about it'' Peter interrupts, holding the script in his hands as he adjusts his voice slightly for his character. EJ takes a step forward along with two of his friends.

''We want you to know that we're gonna be there, cheering for you'' EJ faked a smile.

''Huh?'' Peter fumbled, not liking the look he was receiving from EJ as he advances again.

''Win or lose... We're teammates'' EJ punches Peter's shoulder harder than necessary. Ej had hoped it hurt a little but unknown to him, Peter barely even registered it.

''Even if you turn out to be the worst singer in the world...'' EJ rolls his eyes, slipping out of character.

''And you're not gonna hear me sing, because Gabriella won't even talk to me, and I don't know why'' EJ wanted to throttle him.

''Okay, that's okay, but it was a little stiff. Let's loosen up, pass some energy back and forth. Let's use the ball and improvise'' Mrs Jen speaks, smiling towards the end. EJ's friends hands him the basketball.

''Just say whatever?'' EJ asked.

''Chad it up'' She chuckles at her own pun.

''Troy, you're the best player we've got. We're so lucky'' He begins, glowering at Peter as he bounced the basketball to him. Peter catches it, eyebrows furrowing a little, picking up on the vibe from EJ.

''Wouldn't be anything without you'' Peter fakes a smile back, bouncing the ball a little harder. EJ catches it, throwing a fake smile on now too.

''The way you pretend to play basketball is inspiring'' EJ mocks, throwing the ball strongly towards Peter. Though, he catches with ease, smiling a little to himself.

''Thanks, Chad, and the way you dance is totally normal, and not at all weird for a high school kid'' Peter points out, throwing the ball back a little harder. EJ glances towards him in disbelief and anger, catching the ball.

''You deserve everything that's coming your way'' EJ threw the ball harder, Peter catching it again.

''Back at you, dude'' Peter threw the ball even harder. Mrs Jen watched with her smile beginning to fade away.

''Back at you times two'' EJ responded, throwing harder again.

''Four!'' Peter called out with a mocking smile, throwing the ball back using a little bit of his spider senses this time. EJ still managed to catch it.

''Eight!'' Ej threw harshly, almost stumbling on his spot.

''Back at you infinity plus one!'' Peter used more of his power but soon frowned once the basketball hit EJ square in the jaw, his nose instantly bleeding. Mrs Jen gasps before making her way over towards him, his friends circling as well. Peter gulped a little nervously, not meaning to throw it that hard.

''Let's take a soft ten people!''

~*~*~*~*

''Hey! Y/N!'' I kept walking, despite hearing my name being called out. My feet kept going past the front doors of the school and out towards the parking lot.

''I have to say something to you. I know we're not a couple anymore, I get that'' Peter came rushing out in front of me, stopping. I huffed, readjusting my backpack on my back as he looked m dead in the eye.

''You've been very clear... But...'' Peter scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. My eyes skimmed around, not wanting to be talking to him right now.

''I thought there was a little trust left between... us. I thought I still meant something to you'' I looked backed to him and shook my head, biting my lip.

''I can't do this right now'' I move to walk past him but he cuts me off again, gaining weird looks from a few students passing by.

''Fine. Okay? But the next time I spill my guts to you in a voicemail, do me a favor and keep it to yourself'' my eyebrows furrowed but he still continued.

''I don't need to hear from EJ that it's wrong and stupid-''

''Wait, what voicemail?'' I cut him off, still not getting what he was telling me. Peter stopped talking, taking a deep breath. He glanced at me with a look I couldn't quite decipher.

''What do you mean?''

''You heard this from EJ?'' I asked, my eyes glancing over Peter's shoulder towards him in the distance, standing by his friends next to the school bus wearing their football uniforms. My head turns back to face Peter. I stare up at him for a few moments, trying to make sure he was telling me the truth. He was.

I sighed to myself sadly.

Looks like I traded in one secretive boyfriend for another, classic me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Part 3! Ahh! I feel like this mini series is actually going so quickly. If it is going too fast I am sorry, I'm just trying to get things moving along because I don't want this to have like 10 parts or anything. Heart and comment what you think lovelies xx

P.S: We may have a *cough* ;) moment *cough* coming up

[rvnjun]

nct 2018 reacts: yelling at you because they are stressed/tired

Requested; hey!! can I have a request whereby members of NCT 2018 bursting out their anger at you because they're tired or stressed out? thank you!!

Warnings; Fighting

Genre; Angst and Fluff

Authors Note: I don’t think I made some of them based around the fact that they are tired/stressed, I hope you don’t mind

Authors Note #2: NOT PROOFREAD SO PROBABLY MANY SPELLING ERRORS

Taeil

His grip on the doorknob tightened as you told him that you wished he was around more. He whipped around and gave you a glare, full of an emotion you had never seen on him. “Why don’t you try and be there for me more? It feels like you haven’t put any effort into this relationship for awhile,” his voice was seeping with venom. You stared at him, surprised by his sudden words. You actually started to think things over, were really the problem, the one who hadn’t been there for the other. As you were starting to think that you were a complete bitch Taeil walked over to you and wrapped you in his arms. “I’m sorry Y/n. I didn’t mean to say that,,I think I’m just tired,” his voice was low and quiet,” he explained. “Why don’t you skip practice tonight and get some sleep? I’ll tell them it was my idea,” you said while pulling him in the direction of your shared bed. He didn’t even attempt to pull away, all he wanted was to sleep with you in his arms.

Johnny

Johnny couldn’t stand it anymore, the sound of your voice had become the last thing in the world Johnny wanted to listen too. “Can you please be fucking quiet, gosh you’re so annoying!”,” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air. You stopped mid-sentence and stared at him like a deer in the headlights. Dropping your fork you began to stand up and leave the dinner table without saying anything. Johnny watched as you left and immediately felt like an asshole “Wait Babe,” He hollered out but you had already left the room. He cleaned up the dishes on the table and looked for you in the living room. When he saw you weren’t in there he figured you must have went to bed. Slowly he opened the bedroom door and saw your figure bundled up in bed. Your body shook lightly telling Johnny you had been crying. He couldn’t blame you, that was your first dinner together in almost a month and he was a total dick. “Y/n I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was such a dick. Can you please forgive me?”, he would ask, sitting on the edge of the bed while rubbing your back soothingly. You turned around to face him with a pout on your face “I guess I’ll forgive but, you better give me the best cuddles ever!”, you said with tears still in your eyes. “Oh I’ll give you such good cuddles that you’ll never want to leave,” he joked while crawling into bed with you.

Taeyong

Right after he yelled at you for not cleaning the kitchen he immediately regretted because he knew what he said was wrong and he could tell that he has caused you a great deal of pain. “Y/n I realize that what I said was complete rude and Id like to apologize. Id understand if you are still mad at me though, i would be too if I were in your position,” he said while walking into the living room.You looked up at him from your spot on the couch and sighed heavily, till upset by his sudden and unnecessary outburst. “Taeyong its fine.I understand that you're stressed and tired. I probably should have cleaned the kitchen anyway,” you gave him a smile to show that you weren't upset. It felt like a bunch of weight had been lifted off his shoulders as he at on the couch next to you and cuddled into your side.”thank you for understanding,” his eyes shut as he drifted off into a sleep. 

Yuta

Slamming the door shut behind him Yuta walked into the house, right past you. You flinched at his actions, concerned over if he was okay or if something had happened. “Babe? What’s wrong?”, you asked as you stared at his fuming figure. Turning to face you Yuta raised his voice and snapped “Nothing is wrong. Why are you always trying to get in my business?” Your eyes widened at his words, you had asked a simple and polite question yet he exploded at you. “Maybe because it’s my job as you partner to make sure you are happy,” you snapped back, huffing and slipping on your shoes to get out of the apartment. “Wait! Where are you going?” He asked as he watched you open the door. “Away from yku since clearly you want it,” you were about to shut the door on him when he called out. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I yelled at you, I was just thinking about practice and I got a little mad,” you could hear his voice crack as he spoke. “I won’t forgive you right away since it was complete uncalled for,,,,do you want to talk about it?” You took off your shoes and walked back to where he was. Yuta nodded and pulled you into his arms

Kun

Right after the words left his mouth he regretted what he had said. His words got stuck in his throat as his brain wracked over what he should say. Normally he would have apologized but he didn’t know why he was apologizing since he didn’t know why he said it. You stared at him with gentle eyes, you knew that something was bothering him so even though his words hurt you, you weren’t upset. “Babydoll you need to relax. I can feel how tense you are from over here,” you took careful steps towards him. He stared into your eyes before bursting Into tears “I,,I don’t know why,” his voice wavered. You held him close and let him poor out all of his emotions into you. Everything that he had been holding back on for months came pouring out and you were there to catch all of it

Doyoung

“I’ve been working so hard for this comeback! What have you been doing, huh? Nothing,,nothing at all,” Doyoung kicked a pillow that was resting on the floor. “Nothing, Doyoung? I have done nothing but support you. All the times you can home late and I made sure to have a hot fresh dinner ready. I made sure that you could take a long hot shower. I kept the house sparkling so you wouldn’t feel the need to do anything. I checked up on you, sent you messages throughout the day to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself to hard. But yeah, I’ve done nothing,” you rolled your eyes and grabbed your coat. Opening the door you slammed it shut without even listening to Doyoungs protests. Arriving in the elevator you pressed the ground floor button and held back the tears that were threatening to fall. Just as the doors were about to shut Doyoungs hand went between them, causing them to slide back open. Without saying anything he pulled you into him, holding you tightly he began to cry. “Gosh I was so focused on myself and what I had been doing for the comeback that I didn’t even notice all the things you had been doing for me. I don’t know if you can forgive me but I’m so sorry,” he said, words dripping with remorse.

Ten

“Yeah and how would you understand?” Tens vocie raised a few octaves catching you by surprise. You hadn’t thought he would raise his voice at you from such a simple comment. “I may not understand what you’re going through but I can try to!” You didn’t tell yet since you didn’t want to argue with him. Ten rolled his eyes at your words “Like you could do that,” he simply said. For some reason his words pierced your heart. You stared at him with dull, emotionless eyes. Without exchanging more words you turned around and went to the door so you could slip on some shoes and go for a walk. Once your back was to him Ten sighed “Babe I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled when you were just being nice,” he would say right away since he realized how much of a dick he was being. You smiled and nodded your head “Thank you. Now let me try to help.”

Jaehyun

Jaehyun was a little worked up over the radio show and you couldn’t blame him, if could be very stressful and exhausting. When you brought him and Johnny some food to eat between the show he asked if you would meet him outside to talk. You didn’t think it was anything bad until he shut the door and looked at you with an emotion that sent shivers down your spine. “Can I not work my job without you being nosey?” He asked while looking at the ground. You bit your lip and shook your head no “I like to help take care of you,” you added. Jaehyun ran his fingers through his hair “I’m a grown adult and I don’t need you to take care of me,” he yelled while flinging open the door and rushing out of it. You stayed in the quiet room for a few minutes trying to collect your thoughts and stop your tears. When Jaehyun returned Johnny told him he should apologize since you were being nice. After hearing Johnny talk about how amazing you had been to him he would realize just how in the wrong he had been. He would go back to the room only to find you still there, body shaking from tears. Pulling you in for a hug Jaehyun stroked your hair and apologized for being such a dick all of a sudden when you err just being nice.

Winwin

Winwin was normally a super sweet boyfriend who rarely snapped or yelled at you. The few times you did get into an argument you would both apologize and try to grow from it. So when Winwin and you got into a fight about making sure he was sleeping enough and he left for 4 days you were in hysterics. For those 4 days he was gone he would be wallowing around the dorm in his one pity over what happened. Taeyong would sit down to talk to him and Yuta would secretly record what they said. During he convo Winwin talked about how he felt bad for lashing out and how he didn’t know how to apologize. You would call Winwin, getting voicemail you left a message saying that you missed him and that you didn’t care about the argument anymore, you just wanted him back. Winwin would go running into your arms, picking you up he would apologize and say that he was stressed and he took that out on the wrong person.

Jungwoo

With the announcement of their tour he was piling on more stress than ever. Between hours spent practicing and some recording he felt like he didn’t have any free time. All he wanted to do was nothing, he wanted to lay in his bed and relax. When you made plans to have a double date with your friends without telling him he got very angry and snapped. “It would have been nice to know! Why did you think it as okay to make plans without consulting me first?” Jungwoo closed his eyes and breathed heavily. You felt tears well up, he had a point and you hadn’t seen him so angry before. “Y/n,,I’m sorry I didn’t mean to. I would,,I’d love to go on a double date,” he said after calming himself down. He knew that he shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. “Thank you but if you don’t want to I can cancel! You were right and I shouldn’t have made plans without asking you first.” He pulled you into his chest for a tight hug

Lucas

“I just wish you were around more,” you mumbled into the soft pillow, clutching it tighter when you saw Lucas’ intense gaze. “Y/n I’m preparing to debut in another unit, it’s obvious that I’m going to be busy. You know what I wish? That you were more understanding and caring,” his voice raised a notches. You gasped at his words, unable to comprehend what he said. The minute Lucas saw your expression change he felt his heart sink. Lucas reached out his hands as he tried to find the words to say. You burried your head in the pillow and closed your eyes tightly, trying to hold back the tears. “Y/n I take it back. I wish that you will forgive me for being such a dick to you. I’ll,,I’ll try and be home more often, I swear,” he said while plopping down on the couch next to you and pulling you into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and whispered apologizes in your ear

Mark

Being in 3 units and being one of the popular members, Mark often struggled to remember basic things. Mark sat on the table, trying to write down lyrics. You say across from him as you worked on some school work. Glancing over, you realized just how dead and sick Mark had looked. “Mark honey, what would you like for dinner?” Your soft voice caught his attention. “Huh?,”He asked since he hadn’t been listening. With him staring at you, you could see the dark circles under his eyes. “Baby I’m going to make dinner and then I think you should shower and get some sleep,” you gently placed your hand over his. Mark grumbled something before speaking up “I’m fine, Y/n. I need to finish these lyrics and then I’ll go to bed,” he rolled his eyes like a child at you. “Mark you aren’t going to write anything decent on an empty stomach and 2 hours of sleep,” you stood up and started to pull ingredients out of the fridge. “Oh yeah? And what do you know about my job, Y/n? Huh?” He asked while standing up with you. Your eyes widened and you turned to face him, “Apparently I know nothing but I do know that writing when your tried isn’t going to get you anywhere!” You yelled at him, not wanting to deal with his sudden anger. Mark looked at the ground as he sat down. It was silent for a few seconds before he spoke up “Can,,can you make the pasta that I really like?” He scratches the back of his neck. You smiled and walked over to him, raising his chin with your fingers you placed a gentle kiss on his lips. “Of course I can, why don’t you go shower?”

Renjun

Renjun stares blankely at the plain wall. He knew that what he had said was incredibly rude and he knew that you were hurting because of it. Sighing he hit his head with his hand before standing up. “Y/n I’m so sorry that I said that and that I was a big dick to you. I’ve just been super stressed lately and I know that’s no reason for me to yell at you, yet I did, forgive me?” He knocked on your locked door. Wiping some tears from his cheeks he waited for your response. After a few minutes of silence he heard shuffling and you opened the door with red puffy eyes. “You are forgiven but you owe me,” you said while burying your face in his chest. He kissed the top of your head and smiled “Of course.”

Jeno

He had never yelled at you before, especially not so rudely. Staring at you with wide eyes he couldn’t even believe his own words. “Did I,,did I just say that?” He asked while starting to cry. You held back your tears and nodded “Is that how you really feel?” You asked while taking some steps back. He immediately shook his head “No of course not! Y/n I love you more than anything and I don’t even know why I said that. You mean the world to me,” he started to cry and reach out for you. You knew that he had been stressed these past few days and upset form Makrs graduation. Forgiving him instantly you held him close to you and kissed his cheek. “Stop holding everything to yourself. I’m your s/o Jeno and I want to be able to help you.”

Haechan

Breaking his shin had really taken a toll on him at first. Since he wasn’t able to perform at the award shows or be there for Marks graduation he felt completely useless. On the other hand he was enjoying his break with his family. Sometimes though, he would snap for no reason. You had come over and were watching movies with him when he suddenly yelled at you. “Don’t you have anything better to do? Why are you so useless?” He asked while scoffing. Your eyes widened as you sat up and stared at him blankly. After the words left his mouth he furrowed his brows. “I thought you wanted me here?” You asked. He shook his head and went back to watching the movie like nothing happened. Your vision went blurry with tears. You sat up and grabbed your things, leaving without saying another word. As you walked home you received a phone call from Haechan. You were going to ignore it but you were worried that something had happened. Answering the call his voice was loud as he spoke “Please come back. I started to think about how useless I was feeling at the moment and I wrongly took it out on you,” he said while sniffling. You could tell that he had been crying. “Haechan you have to promise me that you’ll stop snapping like that and if something is bothering you then you need to tell me properly,” you said while already turning to head back to his place. He nodded through the phone. “I promise,,please come back.”

Jaemin

The smile wiped right off of his face when you accidentally spilt your drink. Immediately you rushed to clean it up so the water wouldn’t get everywhere. Jaemin watched silently from the back before speaking up “You’re so stupid,” he simply said. Those 3 words halted you in your tracks, they pierced right through your chest. “What?” You asked while turning to face a mortified Jaemin. He started shaking his hands while protesting “I didn’t mean to say that! I don’t even know why I said it,” he explained. You smiled softly and stared into his tired eyes. “It’s alright babe. Maybe you should get some sleep.”

Chenle

Chenle rubber his eyes, Mark leaving Dream was affecting him more than he had originally thought it would. You continued to tell your story without realizing that Chenle wasn’t listening. With a heavy sigh Chenle yelled “Can you just shut up for more than 5 seconds? It’s unbearable!” You froze in place while staring at him. “I’m sorry,” you quietly looked at your lap while waiting for him to do something. It was silent for a few seconds before the sound of crying caused you to look up. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just thinking about Mark,” he said while reaching over for a hug. You returned the hug and rubbed his back soothingly while telling him everything would be alright and that he would still see Mark.

Jisung

It was rare for Jisung to have an opportunity to take you somewhere. You were super excited, practically bouncing off the walls to go somewhere nice for a change. Jisung rubber his temples “I don’t even wanna go somewhere. I rather stay home in bed, by myself,” he coldly said while staring at you. Your brain processed what he said before you nodded “If you rather go home then that’s fine. You have been working so hard lately,” you continued to be optimistic. Jisung nodded his head and started to turn the other way before he stopped. “You deserve to go somewhere. Tonight we can stay at the dorm and cuddle,” he shook his head after he realized how rude he suddenly was.

[arthur-morgan-slap-my-ass]

Breaking Walls

A/N: It took me long enough, it seems????? This was idealized with @anniesburg at a late night convo about our mutual Silver Fox Daddy Hosea pining and because we need angst for him. Also, huge thanks to my amazing girlfriend @winters-uprise for proof reading and being my beta. And wow, I suck at writing summaries and picking names for fics!

Word Count: 4200+ (y ikes)

Summary: After a rather unfortunate encounter with Hosea, you’re left to doubt and sulk about your early stage-relationship and question yourself if his feelings for you are over. Unbeknownst, that is just the tip of the iceberg.

Rubbing your hands together for some warmth, you approached the tree trunk near the edge of the cliff of Horseshoe Overlook. The moon was high in the sky, the flames of the campfire long diminished to candid looking embers as most of the gang had gone to sleep already. You pulled the shawl around your shoulders, welcoming the brisk coolness of the night for the time being as you went looking for Hosea.

It was a relatively recent thing, what you both had; with fleeting looks and bashful flirting blossoming into something more by the time the gang had to make its hasty escape from Blackwater. You still felt unsure, but Hosea was anything if not patient of your fretting pace. There was no word for it — for what had formed between the both of you, but it was clear on one matter: you were together.

So, when you saw him retreat quietly by the end of the night, you had assumed he had gone to your shared tent, surprised to see the man was nowhere to be found when you got there yourself. Frowning, you decided to go after him around camp — because Silver Dollar was still hitched with the others, so it was obvious he hadn’t left.

It was hard to miss the dark silhouette propped up against the tree trunk, one knee bent up and a long arm resting against it casually. It wasn’t strange for Hosea to seek quiet moments in the midst of the chaos that was the camp on a daily basis, so you approached and made sure your footsteps were heard.

“Won’t you come to bed, Hosea?,” you asked, voice soft. You were, of course, curious; because as much as he enjoyed the quietness, it didn’t happen much during the nights, but you decided not to ask of it. “It’s late already.”

Taking a moment, Hosea didn’t reply immediately, humming instead. “Not really tired,” he offered quietly, and you couldn’t help but notice the bottle of whiskey sitting by him, even though the man didn’t seem particularly drunk. “You should get some sleep, though.”

Frowning, you crossed your arms in front of your chest. “Are you alright?”

Hosea sighed this time, not really looking at you. “Mighty fine. I’ll go later, right?”

Feeling the slight cold shoulder he had turned on you, you decided to leave him be for the time being; assuming he just wanted to be alone, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head whispering that he had always seemed welcoming of your presence even when he was focused on something else — like writing or reading.

Somewhat dissatisfied, you turned around and went back to the tent, hoping he’d come in some time in the night; only to wake up next morning to the empty cot beside you. Sighing, you got up and started getting dressed for the day, wondering what had gone wrong the night before. Maybe he slept and woke up before you? Or did he really stay up all night?

When you stepped out of the tent, the day was still grey and cold, with some of the early birds of camp up and about, you went to check the trunk where you had seen Hosea last night — and sure as it was the sun would come after the moon, the man was still sitting there.

Sheepishly, you prepared a cup of coffee for him — the way you knew he liked, no sugar, no milk; straight black coffee — and another one for yourself, hoping to share it and see if his mood had improved a little. Arthur nods a good morning at you, sipping on his own drink with Charles. Careful not to spill any of the coffee, you made your way towards Hosea — still unmoving, at the same spot; his eyes narrowed and a cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Morning,” you call out, sitting on the trunk he’s leaning against and Hosea visually tenses up when your knee brush his arm, “brought you some coffee.”

He forces a smile up at you, cigarette long gone out still there and you suspected he hadn’t even smoked all of it. “I already had some,” came the quiet answer — and you suspected it was a lie, because it looked like Hosea hadn’t bothered to move at all since last night; not to mention the clear absence of a cup anywhere near him.

Refusing to comment on this, you leaned forwards and placed the steaming drink beside him, taking a sip of your own. “Have some more with me, then.”

Hosea took the cup in his hand, silently, as you sipped yours — but he didn’t move to drink any of its content and you watched the drink grow cold in his hands. The silence stretched, awkward and uncomfortable between the both of you. “Is something bothering you, Hosea?”

Your voice seemed to have startled him, and the man fixed you with a look not too far from a glare by the corner of his eyes, before setting it on the horizon again. “Ah, I’m fine,” he started, playing a nonchalance you knew was staged by the way his shoulders were tensed — the way they get when he’s lying, “nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure?,” you pressed on, unrelenting in your inquiry to figure out what had him in this melancholic state, “because…”

Hosea sighed, putting the neglected cup of coffee to the side; untouched and cold. “What is it?”

“Because it seems like… hell, I don’t know. You just seem off,” you spoke, not minding to cover the worry building up in your voice.

“Maybe I just want to be alone,” the man retorted, tone cold and clipped.

“I don’t want to leave you alone right now,” you confessed, trying to touch his shoulder; but Hosea bolted away from you, turning to fix a harsh glare your way.

“That’s the problem with everyone, it seems,” he spit out, “can’t seem to leave me the fuck alone. Can’t seem to care about what I want for one damn second, always like this. And you know what? Maybe I’m too old and tired for this!”

“Hosea—“

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he grunted, turning from you and setting an irritated look along the tree-line on the horizon. “Don’t need anyone nagging at me about things they don’t understand and you’re no exception. Now, leave me be.”

Not sure about what to say, you opened your mouth, only to close it again. You knew about Hosea’s explosive nature and quick temper, but had never seen it directed at you; and the way in which he so easily brushed your reciprocate feelings aside stung more than what you’d have expected it to. A tight knot formed at the pit of your stomach as you got up, clasping the brass cup in your hands and you walked away from him, no matter how shakily that was.

You approached the fire by the cooking tent, Arthur watching you cautiously with now John pouring himself a drink of his own beside him — Charles was nowhere to be seen.

The blonde man spoke your name gently to catch your attention, “Are you okay?”

Plastering a weak smile on your face, you nodded, fighting the clenching in your throat. “It’s fine.”

“I don’t know what got to Hosea,” he started, pinching the bridge of his nose, “but whatever it was, he’ll come around.”

“Yeah,” you echoed hollowly, watching the swaying flames, sunshine touching your shoulder; and yet, you couldn’t enjoy the warmth of it. “I just wish I knew what was wrong.”

“That’s the thing with Hosea,” Arthur spoke solemnly, head cocking to one side, “no one can tell.”

“Man’s a mystery,” John commented, sitting down with a groan.

“Give him time,” the other proposed, “he’ll come around. Everyone knows Hosea has a soft spot for ya.”

*

Gnawing on your lower lip, you sat down at the dark corner of your conjoint tent — was it still that, though? You wondered. The day had been rough, with doubts eating away at the thinned tatters that had become your mind. Drowning yourself in work to avoid thinking about your situation seemed to be the best way to hold everything back at an arm’s length — and now, with the sunset approaching quickly, you allowed yourself to cry quietly.

No one knew what was wrong with Hosea, although the ones you’ve spoken to assured you of one single thing: it wasn’t your fault and Hosea would come around, at some point. If they knew about it, the reason was being held from you — and as frustrating and infuriating as it was, with curiosity nagging at you insistently, you came to the conclusion that there wasn’t anything you could do about it; not really.

And so, dragging your feet, you quietly slipped away from the late afternoon bustle of the gang to the solitary safety of your tent with tears already prickling the corner of your eyes. The moment in which Hosea had pulled away from you so violently kept playing in your mind, over and over, on repeat like a scratched vinyl. Did you disgust him? Did you say or do something that had caused this? It seemed unlikely, since there weren’t any dangerous missions that had happened and Hosea had kissed and hugged you only hours before growing cold and distant.

Did that mean your… relationship was over? Could you even call it that, though? Maybe you had given more importance to it than you should’ve. Hosea probably grew tired of you, like Dutch does with all the girls he tumbles with — it was an unspoken thing in camp, since no one dared to comment on it —, but you hadn’t expected the silver haired man to be the same. Maybe you were too young and naïve.

Hiccupping softly, you pressed your face to your hands, shoulders shaking with the effort to keep your emotions in and not let out the weakness, but it was hard not to when you knew you had been played with and tossed aside like a broken toy.

Someone called your name softly, once. Then twice, the low baritone voice perhaps too well known by you not to recognize it straight away.

“Are you in there?,” Dutch asked, making his way in unceremoniously, spotting you easily and frowning in the process. “Why are you crying?”

“I…,” you started, fumbling with the words in your mind, too far gone in your misery to care about the man standing there with your messed emotions on display, “I don’t know, I’m just… and Hosea, he… I don’t know what’s wrong, I’m—“

Dutch sighed, rubbing a hand on his stubbly chin as if deep in thought. “Now, now,” he shushed your sobbing, sitting on the cot bed beside your corner on the ground. “There’s no reason to cry yourself over that. You did nothing wrong. Hosea has his own demons to tame, he’s just a cranky old man—“

“Everyone keeps telling me that!,” you exclaimed, furiously wiping your face to get rid of the insistent tears, and Dutch offered a white handkerchief to you; which you grabbed from his hand without as much as a look his way. “I feel like you’re all mocking me, like you know something I’m not supposed to. All you fuckers laughing, watching me grasp at thin air!”

“It’s complicated—“

“The hell it is!,” you hissed, a hiccup blossoming from deep within your chest, “I like him and I don’t even know if I messed it up, I just want to know why—“

“It’s Bessie,” Dutch’s voice rang, loud and clear, even if it dripped with grief. “Bessie Matthews.”

“B— Bessie?,” you asked, looking up at him in confusion, “Hosea’s late wife?”

Dutch huffed out a breath, refusing to look at you now. “Exactly.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, mulling it over, but there was no way you could connect the dots that would result into the situation at hand. You knew Hosea had been married and that his wife had passed, but were not familiar with the details; but he had always referred to her with warmth and love, and you knew it’d be pointless to be jealous about it, so instead you encouraged him and even asked questions about her. Hosea had said once he thinks she’d have been fond of you, even. “I don’t… get it.”

“Ah, so he hasn’t told you,” the older man muttered under his breath, disbelief across his face. “It’s the anniversary of her death, today. Every year since then he has been avoiding us, spending his time alone and thinking about God knows what.”

Still working on digesting the words, you looked down at your feet; boots dirty and chapped on the edges. He had never told you about the way Bessie had passed — and you knew this was a sensitive subject —, so you never asked; but you had no idea her death had taken such a toll on him.

“So we just leave him be,” Dutch shrugged lightly, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees, hands rubbing together. “He takes his time and we don’t bother him. Hosea comes around eventually, as he always does,” he turned to look at you, calloused hand resting on your shoulder and squeezing it reassuringly, “you didn’t do anything wrong, my girl.”

It was strange, very strange indeed to see the softer side of Dutch van der Linde, one of the most wanted men of the country — and at the same time, one who’d offer guidance to someone in need, taking in vagrants and children who didn’t have anywhere else to go.

“Go get with the others,” Dutch spoke quietly as you mulled over the situation and when you looked up, he was standing in front of you with an outstretched hand to help you up. “Family stays together, always.”

Nodding numbly, because you didn’t quite know how to say you’d rather jump off of a cliff than socializing right now, you accepted his hand and made your way over to the campfire; Javier, guitar in hand, waving you over to a spot beside himself.

Dutch watched you go, hooking his thumbs on the belt loops, and like a dutiful father, he smiled once Charles pushed a bowl of food in your hands and Arthur leaned to whisper something to you.

Hosea was going to hear a piece of his mind, definitely.

Turning around, he made his way to the far off side of the camp, where he knew the older man — and his best friend — was to be found, still brooding over past mistakes that couldn’t be fixed.

“We need to talk,” was all the dark haired man said, a booted foot stepping over the tree trunk in which Hosea still rested against.

The other sighed, shaking his head slightly. Dutch noted the clear absence of alcohol — and that eased his mind. “What do you want, Dutch?”

“You to keep that temper of yours in check, that’s what I want,” he snapped, not backing away when Hosea turned on his way with a glare.

“Of all the days—“

“It’s not for me,” Dutch cut in, leaning forwards to get his point across, “I’m not scared of your ugly face no more, old friend. I know you too well for that,” he made a pause, sighing as he turned to look out at the nighttime scenery, “but the girl doesn’t, Hosea.”

The other man stiffened visibly, crossing his arms on his chest with a slight twist of his lips. He was defensive, clearly. “It’s none of her goddamn business.”

“Stop being so damn stubborn, Hosea!” Dutch hissed at him, annoyed and doing nothing to hide it. “She’s there, crying her heart out, and all you can care about is yourself?,” the words seemed to have some effect on him, and Hosea turned to his friend; confused, but still untrusting.

“What do you mean—“

“What else could I be meaning, you thick headed idiot?,” Dutch grumbled, having the decency of not using an accusatory tone. “She thinks she did something wrong. That you got angry at her specifically and no one has the guts to tell her what this,” he gestured at Hosea, making him feel embarrassed, “is about.”

Hosea pondered over it, lighting a cigarette with a practiced flick of his fingers. “She…,” he huffed out, looking sideways at Dutch before continuing, “she wasn’t supposed to…,” another sigh, “I didn’t mean to snap on her.”

The other man scoffed, taking a seat beside the silver haired one. “The girl has no fucking crystal ball, Hosea,” he took out a cigar from the pocket of his waistcoat, taking the lighter Hosea offered him without much of a fuss, “how was she supposed to know if you wouldn’t tell her?”

Hosea nodded thoughtfully, heart dropping with dread in his chest. He had made you cry. That’d be hard to forget — even more so for himself. The tip of the cigarette burned lazily in the middle of the night, beside Dutch’s cigar as he reflected on it. “All these years,” he started, quietly, eyes squinted out in the darkness, “and I’m still a fool.”

“We all are,” was Dutch’s equally soft reply, “specially when it comes to women.”

*

“Now, quiet, quiet!,” Javier called fingers quickly flicking at the chords of the guitar, “one more before we call it a night,” he turned to you with an easy smile, “pick a song, mija, I’ll play your favorite.”

Smiling quietly to yourself — and feeling somewhat better, surprisingly —, you laughed at Javier’s game of favorites.

“Oy,” Sean called from the other side of the campfire, “what ‘bout my song?”

“I don’t like playing yours,” Javier jested back and you laughed out loud at Sean’s indignant noise, Arthur making a mocking-pain face at you once he caught your attention, “you have bad taste, amigo”

Most of the gang had retired for the night already — leaving you, Javier, Sean, Arthur and John to the campfire. Taking a sip of your lukewarm beer, you pushed on Javier’s shoulder for his nipping at Sean and just as you were about to tell him to play “Cielito Lindo”, there were footsteps shuffling closer to the fire; and when you turned around to spot Hosea’s figure against the firelight, you felt as if the breath had been punched out of you.

Tipping his head to the side as he discreetly elbowed John, Arthur got up with a tiny groan. “No can do for me, fellas. Gotta go to Valentine early tomorrow, me and John. Sorry ‘bout that.”

“I didn’t know—,” John started, only to be cut off by Arthur.

“We do, now,” he pushed him away from the tree trunk, “you’re as thick as a goddamn brick wall, Marston—“

Javier widened his eyes slightly, looking pointedly at Sean over the gentle burning flames, “I think it’s time we render Charles from guard duty, don’t you?”

“Ohh, right,” the redhead chimed in, dusting off his weathered trousers, “lead on, lead on!”

Left alone with Hosea and cursing your friends, you tried to ignore the sound of him seating on the wooden crate beside you, the fluffy pelts doing little to muffle the creaky noise. You didn’t know what to say now, unsure if you even should do so. Nervously, you teared off the labelling of the beer bottle in your hands, giving it your undivided attention.

Hosea sighed and you could feel his eyes on you, but you refused to look up and meet him. With all the shooting and lying and kidnapping you had done all this time with the Van der Linde gang, you had never found yourself more tongue tied in your whole life.

The man opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again and frown at himself. How was he even supposed to do this? Pressing his lips together, Hosea turned to you again; this time reaching to touch at your shoulder — and the moment you flinched away from him it did sting.

Were you afraid of him? The possibility of it shattered his heart. You must’ve been mad at him, wanting to throw things, yell or even slap him — but not afraid, this was too much. Swallowing thickly, Hosea closed his eyes to gather his thoughts.

“Do forgive me, dear,” he whispered, almost low enough for the crackling of the fire to drown out his voice, “I didn’t do you right, since yesterday. There was no way you could’ve known—“

“Because you never told me,” you answered promptly, still refusing to look at him; the tears burning the corners of your eyes.

Hosea didn’t have the heart to disagree, “I didn’t.” He fiddled with his hands, trying to piece together what he was about to say — his silver tongue was of no use to him now. “I… it’s been too long, sweetheart. Too long since I had someone like you in my life. We grow used to violence and harshness, in this life we lead; and I’m afraid I couldn’t keep it from getting to me before you did.”

You fought the tears welling in your eyes, still refusing to give in; but the man carried on, tone of voice not too different from the one he used for the heartfelt confession all those months ago.

“Even so, it was no reason to push you away the way I did, I realize that now. I’m here to apologize. So, please,” Hosea pleaded, “will you look at me, sweetheart?” Sniffling, you shared a coy glance with him; and Hosea smiled, although tiredly. “You’re a blessing to a man who does not deserve it, dear.”

“Flatter will get you nowhere, Hosea,” you nitpicked at him, now looking away and taking a small sip of the disgusting beer.

“Is it still flatter if I speak the truth, I wonder,” he spoke quietly, more to himself than anything else. “You remind me of her, in many ways.” The logs crackled loudly, making the situation seem even eerie, “but at the same time, not at all,” he looked up at the sky now, arms resting his knees, “I was on a mission the night she died, on a mission with Arthur and Dutch. She…,” he hesitated, risking a glance at you, “she never wanted this life. Not for long anyways, Bessie never agreed of going back to this. We were done with it.”

“But it’s never easy,” you offered simply, another swig of beer.

“No,” he hummed. “She had been sick for a while, but I was too busy with the gang and everything else to…,” Hosea frowned now, putting his hands together as if trying to piece together his words in the same way. “Sometimes I blame everyone else, as foolish as it is. Thinking that if I didn’t talk her into going back, maybe… well, maybe she’d still be alive. No other way to put this.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you spoke quietly, leaning towards the man’s body and pressing your head to his knee.

Hosea’s hand came to rest on your shoulder now, stroking the covered skin there with his thumb, a touch so gentle and light you thought you could’ve dreamed it.

“It’s still not enough of a reason to treat you the way I did,” he quietened down for a moment, words escaping him as his caress turned more insistent, “I don’t think there ever will be a reason, if I’m being honest.”

His hand now tangled with you hair, scratching your scalp the way he knew you liked; and the shifting of your hair tickled the side of your neck for a second.

“Mrs. Grimshaw gave me the news, as soon as I got back,” Hosea’s voice came off clipped, with some sort of effort, “Bessie had been sick for a little while and we thought nothing of it. Hadn’t seem like there was anything to think of it. 3 days later, Mrs. Grimshaw said, she passed. In her sleep, apparently, but had asked for my whereabouts then.”

The crackling of the fire was too loud now, an intrusion to the weight of the subject spoken between the both of you. An owl hooted somewhere far away and you pressed your face to the roughness of his jeans. “I’m sorry, Hosea.”

He replied after a long while, eyes watching the flames but not really seeing, “Me too.” Hosea’s hands moved to the curve of your jaw, cupping it softly as his thumb touched the gentle curve of your cheek. “Please,” he started, “do forgive me, sweetheart.” Hosea’s voice was unusually breathy, a vulnerability you could only imagine to have laced it, “and tell me we’re not through.”

“Of course we’re not,” you protested, pushing up on your knees; the bottle of beer shoved aside and slowly emptying itself of its ambery liquid, “don’t be stupid, I’d never—“

Hosea held your face in his calloused hands, leaning forwards to press a kiss — filled with gentleness and warmth — to your forehead; and he smelled like the tobacco, the night air and campfire, something so incredibly Hosea you wouldn’t be able to point them apart even if you wanted to. You sighed, taking hold of his wrists and pulling away to catch his lips with yours, the warmth of him and at the corner of your eyes an insistent reminder of your love. And you tried to convey the feeling for him in a kiss, as clumsy as it was with the weird angle, as needy as it felt for the both of you.

Far away, the owl hooted again; but this time you really did pay no mind to it.

[words-are-my-existence]

Tea and Coffee

Introduction Part III: Mellifluous

Note: Contains fluff, comedy and angst. There may be mature themes and course language but mainly softness.

~

Time ticked away, the sun slowly making its way to the horizon to sleep. Jai still had not returned, obviously distracted by something adorable Eliza had presumed.

Still it wasn’t terribly busy, only a few patrons had come and gone, the morning hours of the day usually being more of their peak time so a quiet evening was expected. During this time if it was quiet Eliza would sit down and catch up on her reading or art, sitting by the table booth in the corner that caught most of the afternoon sunlight plus had the bookshelves right by it. Jai had outfitted the cafe with them when they had first opened and already they all were packed to the brim with various books and mangas she had collected for the store, Eliza wagered soon they would have to add a few more shelves if they wanted to add more to their collection.

The barista took her normal seat and began reading her current novel, keeping an ear out for the door to make sure she wasn’t startled again as she was earlier in the day. While she did so she kept an eye on the time as well, knowing that soon as it hit four o’clock sweet music would begin to play outside the cafe. And exactly as the hour came around beautifully plucked guitar strings began to sound, the tune gentle and calming like a lullaby made even more so by the deep but light singing voice accompanying the song.

Eliza put her novel away and quickly went back to the counter, making up an iced cappuccino as the musician outside continued to play their soothing melodies. Once she completed the drink she went outside, the busker finishing up their current song and looking up at Eliza with a large goofy smile,

“Hey Liz! Is that what I think it is?” The fluffy haired man asked excitedly as he rested his acoustic guitar down,

“Yup, one fresh iced cap with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles for Mr Chanyeol,” Eliza announced as she handed the drink to him. Park Chanyeol was a regular of sorts, coming to busk outside the cafe fours days each week at exactly four in the afternoon. It was like clockwork each time, the neighbourhood blessed by his music for the hourly periods. Chanyeol was definitely charming, with both his tall muscular figure and soft chocolate eyes, he drew in many passerbyers each time he sang. Which also aided the cafe in bringing in more clientele to. As a thank you for such Eliza would make up Chanyeol’s favourite drink, which he gladly accepted though he would also add that bringing in customers was more of his payment to the ladies for letting him busk in the first place. He was a gentle giant, never failing to brighten Eliza’s and Jai’s day with his presence and music.

As he took a few sips of his coffee Chanyeol glanced around confusedly,

“Huh your partner in crime isn’t with you today?” He questioned noticing Jai’s absence,

“Yeah she’s currently on a stock up run, though mind you she left three hours ago. Something tells me either she’s seen a cute animal, person or both and is completely distracted with that,”

“Hopefully she’s advertising your business while she’s at it,” Chanyeol added with a slight chuckle, Eliza rolling her eyes with a smile,

“She probably is. One good thing that comes out of Jai being side tracked is the fact she brings back plenty of people wanting to chat her up more. It’s funny seeing suitors chase after her though, brutally finding out later on she has zero interest in relationships beyond one night stands or that she just wants to see their pets instead,” Eliza shook her head as she continued,”I almost feel sorry for some but she tends to have her reasons so I stay out of it,”

“She is a quirky one,” Chanyeol noted as he placed his drink down and picked his guitar back up, absentmindedly strumming it as he spoke,”I’m sure that there’s still plenty of customers who come by to talk to you to,”

“What makes you say that?” Eliza asked in reply, the musician quietly focusing his gaze on his instrument,

“Well um, you’re an interesting person to...as well as very kind, beau-“ He had started but cut himself off as several women rushed up to him, each giggling and blushing as they addressed Chanyeol,

“Oh my gosh! We are such massive fans of yours!” One started and politely bowed, her friend batting her eyelashes as she spoke,

“We admire you sooo much! Please can we get a picture! And an autograph to?!”

“I-I um please not to close, uh thank you-“ He nervously stuttered. Chanyeol was a soft spoken person and gentlemanly, so he wasn’t used to these sort of interactions especially with females. Jai was usually here to help sort overly excited fans out but it looked like Eliza would need to step in this time,

“Alright ladies please give him some space, he will get to both your requests if you wait just a moment and calm yourselves,” She sternly spoke up as she moved forward in front of Chanyeol creating a small barrier. One of the girls frowned upon seeing Eliza, her eyes growing green with envy. She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by her friend who subtly pinched her arm,

“We’re sorry, we got a bit over excited there. We’ll wait of course,” She apologised, elbowing the noticeably angry friend who mumbled a sorry.

“Thank you, I’ll grab some pens and papers for you both,” Eliza cheerfully said, rushing off to retrieve such items. They calmly waited as Chanyeol signed autographs for them and posed for selfie as well, the two walking away happy and satisfied though the jealous one did throw Eliza several glares which the barrister ignored. There was plenty of people like that these days and Eliza had learnt to take no heed of them, it was a waste of energy and time being envious especially over guys.

Chanyeol let out a heavy sigh of relief,

“Thank you so much, I’m really not comfortable when those sort approach me. They just want so much and expect to get it,” He breathed and looked at Eliza gratefully,

“It’s no big deal, people need to learn about personal space mind you,” She responded shaking her head,”I best head back inside and let you continue your set, just give me a shout if any trouble rises again,”

“Ah wait!” Chanyeol shouted and hastily jumped to his feet, almost knocking his guitar over,”Before when I talking, before those girls I...I um...”

He was trailing off and getting quieter with each word that Eliza couldn’t make out what he was saying at all,

“It’s alright I know I have a few customers who take interest in me as well, I’m not envious of Jai more so happy I’m not bothered constantly by random strangers,” She reassured him as Chanyeol paused. He stared down now at Eliza with a troubled look. He was a good several inches taller then her, flustering the shorter girl slightly,

“Have you ever considered...actually dating any of them?..”

“No, not really. I rather date someone I’ve actually talked to after some time or I myself am actually interested in,” She ruminated, growing curious to why Chanyeol was inquiring on the topic,

“Can I ask why you’re so concerned on this matter?”

She caught him off guard with this question, Chanyeol quickly looking away. Was he blushing?

“I...I...” He tried speaking but seemed to have the words caught in his throat.

Before Eliza could press more the two were suddenly tightly embraced by a third party, a giggling voice perking up,

“Look at you two cuties! Is this one of men Jai spoke about that was crushing on you Lizzy? Man it’s so great seeing you!” The person in question let go and moved back a few steps smiling, Eliza grinning herself in recognition,

“Levi you’re back! How was Japan?” She hugged the puffy black haired girl back, Chanyeol bowing to her in surprise at her appearance,

“It was great as always, Lucy already wants to go again. She can’t get enough of Kyoto and wants to go to Hiroshima next,” Levi explained and bowed to Chanyeol,

“Chanyeol right? Jai has told me heaps about you and the other guys, it’s nice to meet you!”

“Other guys?...” He managed to say as he grew pale, but the ladies didn’t seem to notice as Eliza started to lead Levi in inside,

“Come on you need to tell me everything! Where is Lucy by the way?”

“Oh she’s helping Jai bring back a bunch of coffee beans, I’m assuming she was on a stock run,” Levi guessed while Eliza nodded,

“Yeah. Good thing Lucy is with her, she can keep Jai on track to actually get back her,” She joked, waving to the frozen musician,

“I’ll catch you Friday Chanyeol, we’ll pick up on our convo then. Take care!” She finished as she and Levi went inside, Chanyeol slowly taking his seat again and running a hand through his hair,

“I need to tell her...” He whispered to himself and nodded his head thoughtfully. He resumed busking, filled with a new sense of determination on having decided on a course of action for the next day.

~

[theclaravoyant]

AN ~ this one’s for myself, but also for @jadehendrixmusic who asked on a convo between me and @marvelthismarvelthat that this be written. Enjoy the PAIN but srsly have I told you how much I love Daisy mcfreaking Johnson. This also fills @aosadvent2017 prompt “hope”

“We can’t change the future,” he reminded her. “We couldn’t then and we can’t now. But they did get one thing wrong.”

The real story of how and why Daisy Johnson broke apart the Earth.

Read on AO3 (~2300wd). Rated T. Rshps: Daisy-centric, Daisy & the Team, Daisy & Fitz. Angst with a Happy(ish?) Ending. MCD and I’m not f*ckin around w that

Destroyer of Worlds

In the end, Daisy thought, she should have seen it coming.

She’d felt it for a while, somewhere deep inside herself.

The knowledge that she would bury her friends.

-

For a while they managed to stick together as the world collapsed into chaos around them. They clung to each other, looked after each other so well it almost felt like they were the last real people left on Earth. But of course, there was only so much that seven people could do against an alien dictatorship and soon enough, things started to spiral beyond their control.

Coulson was the first to go, in a fiery, guns-blazing, one-against-the-world sacrifice to buy time while Daisy and Elena escaped, and rescued a mob of Inhumans from the Kree cells.

A little while after that, Jemma’s mysterious immunity to one of the Kree’s favourite pathogens attracted the wrong sort of attention from their leaders. She was captured and – after flatly refusing to cooperate, whether willingly or under duress - experimented on, before finally being released. Delirious with her newly regained freedom, she had sprinted full-tilt for that shadowy corner of the world that the team now called home, until she’d realised - and stumbled and fallen and ploughed into the dirt with the shock of it – that the only reason they would have let her go was because they’d won. She’d contracted something. Something dangerous. Something that could wipe out the resistance.

So she’d run the opposite direction instead, and died alone.

May lasted a little longer than that. She was getting old by the time she went. Her eyes clouded with cataracts and she walked with a permanent limp, her legs and knees having been destroyed and re-knitted so many times. She remained a key strategist in their little band of resistance until the end, and died in as much peace as anyone could afford these days, surrounded by most of the remaining people that loved her.

It was funny, Daisy mused, the way that people used ‘funny’ for things that were not funny at all – like how she was sure that May would have preferred Coulson’s end, and he hers.

Still, the rest of them soldiered on.

-

And then there was Fitz.

His was a slow death, and one of the hardest as the dwindling resistance lost perhaps its truest believer. It started with a painful arthritis - in his hands at first, which was cruel enough, and then it spread to his shoulders, his back, his knees. Still, he refused to stop working; building panel after panel, machine after machine, engines and life support systems and generators and UV light-towers for growing food, and all manner of things that Daisy and even Mack did not fully recognise or understand. As per the policy they’d developed in case of capture, nobody had a clear idea of what all this was supposed to mean, not even the people working on it, until the day Fitz died.

That day, Daisy was curled up in a chair by his bedside as he slept, trying to resist the urge to chew on the sleeve of her jacket. She had asked not to be disturbed, feeling much less the hardy resistance leader their followers knew, and much more the lost girl about to watch one of her best friends disappear before her very eyes.

Fitz mumbled something, incoherent, and Daisy threw herself forward, falling to her knees at his bedside. He smiled – amused, apparently, by her dramatics, as if he wouldn’t have done exactly the same thing.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “’s just what happens when you breathe in metal dust all day, ‘n don’t eat anything, and-“

He cut himself off, his words lost in a barrage of coughing, and Daisy poured him a glass of water. She couldn’t tell if her hands were shaking or if it was the water in the glass itself, but she got it to him eventually and the coughing calmed. She helped rearrange his pillow so that he could sit up, but Fitz batted her away, too tired for the effort. Almost too tired to keep his eyes open. His whole body ached, even as he smiled ruefully over at Daisy.

“Not long now,” he said, his voice croaking with an age he hadn’t lived yet.

She clutched his hand fiercely. “Mack – just wait for Mack. He’s coming in from scouting. He’ll be here soon.”

“That’ll be nice.”

His body shook – once, violently - as if it was about to launch into another coughing fit, but was too tired to manage it. The end was coming faster than he thought it would, and though it hurt to push her away, he had to claw past Daisy to pull open a nearby drawer. He pushed a notebook into her hands. Frowning in confusion, she pulled out more papers from the drawer. On one of them was an illustration of a massive space station. Daisy’s jaw slackened.

“This is what you’ve been building?”

“The Lighthouse,” Fitz confirmed. “That’s what it was called, right?”

“Yeah. The one in – the one in space, after I…” Daisy frowned, piecing things together slowly. “Wait. You don’t think –“

“It’s big enough for several thousand people. Mack’s been helping me make shuttles, too. We’ve been sending bits and pieces into space. It’s nearly ready.”

“Ready? For what? I don’t understand.”

“Yes, you do,” Fitz pointed out. He reached out again and Daisy gave him her hand. His squeeze was not as strong as it once had been, and his skin felt papery and odd, but it was still his hand. It still felt warm. With horror, she thought about how this might be the last time she’d ever feel that warmth. But Fitz needed to tell her something, so Daisy looked into his eyes, and saw in them why he had been such a believer. The wonder and the inevitability of the universe.

“We can’t change the future,” he reminded her, his voice soft but steady, and full of conviction. “We couldn’t then and we can’t now. We bought ourselves a little time, with a lot of lives, and here we are. But they did get one thing wrong.”

He smiled.

“You’re Daisy Johnson, and you’re going to save us all.”

-

Those words echoed in Daisy’s mind for hours. Days. They were a lot to live up to – as were the eyes of the gathering crowd, who had fled here from, as far as Daisy could tell, all over the world. Some of them still managed to have such hope that it almost broke her heart at the same time as filling it. Most of them, though, looked to her: the last hope, for humanity and Inhumanity alike.

“Don’t let me fail them,” she whispered. She was not sure to whom. Mack, standing a few feet away, directing refugees about their final missions on Earth? The ghost of Fitz or Jemma or Coulson or May, who she longed to guide her through this? Maybe herself. That’s all she had left, really.

Not long now.

The ground seemed to beat beneath her, as if it could feel the anticipation thrumming through her veins. The crowd buzzed, scared and hopeful, curious and heartbroken. The prospect of spending the next few days in tiny shuttles in the unknown vacuum of space was not an inviting one, but it was better than the alternative: the Kree were turning more and more Inhumans – there were even rumours of mind and blood control – and those pockets of resistance that had made it this far were being snuffed out one by one. As far as Daisy had managed to discover – and as Fitz had probably already known – this was the last one.

Before her sat the last shuttle of the 10-stage interstellar evacuation mission to save humanity.

The SS Hope, Fitz had called it.

That’s why they’d decided to launch it last: in case it pulled a Challenger and blasted itself out of the sky. Nothing killed a revolution like Hope literally going down in flames.

Fortunately - as could always be expected of Fitz and Mack’s work – the other shuttles had all taken off harmlessly and were well on their way up to the Lighthouse. The last of the remaining civilians were walking up the gangplank of the Hope when Elena appeared at Daisy’s side.

Daisy clenched her fist.

“They’re here,” Elena reported.

She’d seen this coming too. Felt it, in the vibrations on the ground: armies, marching. This being their last chance – life or death - they’d be coming after the dregs of the resistance with everything they had.

“We’re ready,” Mack announced, marching down from the gangplank with a determined expression. “Everyone’s strapped in, ready to go.”

“Yeah, but we’ve got company,” Daisy informed him grimly. He frowned, at her, then at Elena, who he knew had been out scouting before. The shotgun axe came down from his back, and he cocked it.

“Where?”

Elena nodded her head in the direction they would have to go, and Mack nodded with determination. To Daisy, he said –

“Get that bird off the ground,”

- and with that he was gone, following Elena to face the firing lines. Two of them against an army would never last long, but for them this had always been where it was going to end. Humanity’s last line of defence. Death so that others may live. Not the worst way to go, all things considered.

Which brings us back to Daisy.

It was with a heaviness in her heart that she signalled for the last pilot to take off. She received his solemn final salute with a stiff upper lip and turned her attention to the task ahead. It was all up to her now and these precious, last few seconds were where she would make her final stand. They were oh-so-close now, and she knew what she had to do.

Daisy lifted her head, proud, feeling the heat on her face and the rush of the air from the engines of the last shuttle lifting off. She reached out after it, feeling its vibrations in the air; feeling her blood sing with the frequency that would get humanity to freedom. A smile touched her lips as she farewelled the ship – after all, maybe she couldn’t literally change the future, but who would have thought that one day she, a scrappy orphan raised in a van, would become this?

Kneeling slowly, Daisy put her outstretched hand on the precious earth. She dug her fingers into its surface and reached down into it with her mind, feeling the frequencies of rock and magma and shifting plates. She reached further than she ever had before, pushing through the nosebleed and the headache, downward and outward until she could hear the running river; the grass crushed underfoot; the kickback of pistols and the falling of bodies in battle not far away. She felt – with a violence she had not expected; so powerful it was as if she could see it – Mack’s body crash to the ground as the immense odds finally overwhelmed him. She was hardly aware of her own self, her own heart breaking, the tears on her own face, with her consciousness spread so wide across the world, but she knew it hurt. And when she felt the hummingbird heartbeat that was Elena die it was if strings were being cut inside her.

Maybe they were.

The last strings holding Daisy to this world were gone. Overwhelmed with the pain and Elena’s scream when Mack was cut down and the dissonant screaming of the earth she screamed too and the world shifted. Rocks cracked and split, magma trembled and fissures broke open – not just at her feet but all across the country. Kree ships were blasted out of the sky. Cracks opened in the earth that swallowed trees and buildings. Her body hummed with all the frequencies of a dying world and Daisy watched herself be lifted into the air, pulling all the threads together into a reluctant, tumultuous harmony. She hit a note, somewhere in there, and all of a sudden it didn’t hurt. It felt like diving into a pool of water; slow and smooth, and she could watch the world collapse around her in slow motion, untouched.

Drifting above the apocalypse, Daisy remembered that once the Asgardian, Sif, had claimed she would be transformed into a Kree weapon; a drone, marching at their beck and call – or worse, a believer in their empire. The Kree themselves had been pretty excited about that too. And Deke, and the others on the Lighthouse fifty-odd years from now, had believed it too, or some version of it anyway. That she’d destroyed their world. Only she knew… she, and the ones who had come before her… that it was not so simple.

She was Quake. Destroyer of Worlds.

Yet, even as the tectonic plates of the Earth cracked and burst by her will, like a glass still in the motion of breaking, she had crushed that name into the dust. There was hardly anything left to destroy. Only enough for one hell of a scorched-earth campaign as the Hope escaped the atmosphere, sailing humanity onto their next sanctuary – and their next challenge.

Those few Kree who had somehow managed to cross the burning, exploding Earth approached Daisy. They looked small, and greedy, and far too confident for the likes of her. Could they not see what she had become?

She was Daisy Johnson. Saviour of Humanity.

And like an opera singer breaking a glass, she waited until the perfect moment to let go the note she’d been holding onto. The harmony shattered, and all the discord of this dying world unleashed at once. It ripped through her fragile human-esque body, and through the Kree, and through the Earth, and the whole planet finally splintered around them.

Daisy died with a bloody, victorious smile upon her face.

[vampykitty-kun]

Update:

Well, it’d been about a year or so and I guess it’s time to say that I’m not dead. I’ve only just now, as of an hour ago, gotten internet hooked up in my ‘home’.

This past year was a train-wreck.

the move I planned for almost 2 years, and spent all my savings on, was a bust. I had to move back after only 3 months, because once I got out there the property owner changed their mind on a whole bunch of crap. I spent the entire summer in 80-100 degree weather and no AC. Given that I was up in Wisconsin and lived my entire life in northern IL me and heat do not get along. They wouldn’t let me have the electric company come out and install electrical lines, because the company needed the property owner to sign off on it and he was a paranoid ass that kept insisting he was going to get stuck with the bill despite me having the cash in hand and the order being under my name. I spent the 3 months with one extension cord, no gas, no plumbing.

The guy that moved me out there also moved me home. He was a neighbor that was friends with my mother but only 3 years older than me. He was in a rough spot. Lost his job, his girlfriend left him, and the roommates he acquired after she left stole the rent $ and ditched him. By the time the 6 hour drive home was done he managed to convince me to move into his house. My father had stolen my bedroom after I moved out, threw out all my furniture, and was not going to give my room back. Neither parent wanted me to move back in with all of my pets either. I would have been stuck taking my grandma’s old room, which never would have fit all my stuff, and I had no furniture to speak of while this guy already had a bed, dresser, and TV in a room for me.

I took the chance and moved in. Honestly I just wish I never tried to leave home. I moved in mid September and spent the next several months without internet, paying all his back rent, paying most of the ongoing rent, buying all the food and cleaning supplies, etc, etc, etc, to the point that I’ve never been so tapped out financially in my life. He did start working on Halloween, but then was bad with his money, and it took several occasions before i had to start demanding to see rental receipts because not only would he often not give the landlord as much as he said HE was giving him, he often kept money I gave him for the rent and spent it elsewhere. Then because He was having to ride a bike home 40 mins from work as the buses didn’t run that late, he bought a beater car from a co-worker when we still weren’t caught up on rent. In the end I had to even contribute to that cost. Then we were FINALLY almost all caught up and he was laid off the first week of March. 

It got to the point that I flat out refused to pay for anything anymore, sold some things, and started saving money for my own place. But as many people know, renting with multiple pets is a nightmare. We were about to be evicted, he at the drop of a dime acquired a girlfriend who moved in the day they started seeing each other, and I ended up having to drop another $600 to avoid ending up out on my ass. He and she were of course supposed to contribute to that, but they didn’t. She did get a job and start paying rent after that, but he only managed to finally start work last week. I of course no longer have money saved up to move out so I’m trapped here until at LEAST July. I had to pay to get the internet hooked up and $100 towards rent again just 2 days ago.

Past housing related issues there have been plenty. 

Right before I moved out May 2016 my grandmother had a stroke. She ended up in rehab, recovered some after a few months, then came home. But then she had another stroke and ended up with mercer, and ended up back in the hospital just a week after coming home. She did not recover that time. She ended up in hospice. I did manage to go see her a few times before she passed away November 4th, just 2 days after my mother’s birthday and we had gone to see her.

Atticus, my sweet, adorable smooshy faced kitty jumped out the window a week before Halloween. I had repeated yelled at my roommate to put the screens back in the window, but he was ‘anti-screen’ saying it blocked air flow. I then repeated told him to warn me if the windows were open so I could lock Atticus in my bedroom. He of course never remembered. I was outside when he jumped out the window, I heard his collar bell, and did go after him. Unfortunately it was already dark out and I had no idea where the flashlight was, so when he dove into the garage I let him stay there. The garage has no power and has been used as storage so it would have been a nightmare trying to get in there in pitch black. he had gotten out a couple times before, during the day though, and after an hour or so he’d always come running if called. Those of you that followed me closely know I’m very anti-indoor/outdoor cat due to the zillion safety risks. I wasn’t thrilled by any of this. Well I tried an hour later to get him in and he did not come. I sat down, watched a movie, and just as it ended it started storming. I went out looking for him, got soaked completely through my coat, got the flashlight from the roommate who was home by this point, and NOTHING. He was no longer in the garage, not in the yard, not under any of the cars, not at my mother’s around the corner, he simply vanished. I went a few hours later and checked again after it stopped raining, and nothing. Checked in the morning, nothing. Walked the neighborhood listening for his bell when I called, nothing. I put up fliers. I called every animal control, shelter, rescue, and vet in the area. Nothing. Brought the fliers to them even. Checked animal control and the local rescue in person several times, nothing. I had this cat for 10.5 years and he just vanished without a trace. I got to hoping that someone at least found him and was cruel enough to me and attached to him to keep him. He was half persian which is a desirable look. But at least in that situation he’d be alright. My roommate watch me go nuts for weeks never giving up. It all ended when I found out from this girl he liked and I never talked to (I guess he thought I never would, but I went to McD’s and we started up a convo though when we ran into each other) that my cat was dead. As it turns out my roommate’s friend a block away found him the day after the storm dead at the curb in the grass near his house. My poor cat ended up hit by a car in a thunderstorm and died alone and in pain, all because of stupid ass screens. Instead of giving me the closure, my roommate hid this shit from me. He apparently told the girl this saying he had to get it off his chest but didn’t want to upset me. Then when I confronted him, he denied it. But he’d lied to me about so many things since moving in I never believed him. I continued to bring it up regularly, until he finally got fed up and admitted it to me. He claimed he went to confirm that it was him, then came home for a bit before he went back to pick him up, only to find that the city had already removed him. I doubt it. So not only did I not get the closure, but I didn’t get to bury him or anything. He never intended to tell me. he watched me continue searching. Watched me gt into the neighbor’s car and go to animal control various times. So yeah... coming on here to see that my profile pic was still my poor cat landed me in some serious angst...

Then after Grandma passed and the new year started, my mother had a stroke. Just after grandma had had her two. Turns out she had lupis, and it did something to her heart and tissue tore, and some of that tissue pinged around in her brain. She didn’t lose any feeling, but her speech and some other things were affected for a couple weeks. Because it was the heart and lupis that ultimately caused it, they ended up having to put her on the proper meds, and she had to have open heart surgery to correct the tears. She has since recovered mostly.

Meanwhile I’ve been having a nervous breakdown and existential crisis the past years and it finally blew up to the point where I couldn’t function at all, barely left bed, slept an average of 14 hours and still woke up physically and mentally exhausted. I had lost a good 15lbs out in Wisconsin for 3 months but at this time I have since gained 30lbs. Enough was enough, I started having some seriously shitty thoughts, and I went and got a medical card and adulted, scheduling a shit ton of appointments. I’ve started getting my bad teeth fixed, the ones I suffered through for the past 6 years. My blood pressure is magically stable despite the massive amounts of stress. No diabetes, a miracle. All my bloodwork came back normal. They have me scheduled to check for a couple different cancers, as there’s several in my immediate family. They have me seeing a therapy lady 1-2 a month for anxiety and depression. My anxiety got so bad in all of this that I started breaking out into hives and rashes at random. They have me on anxiety meds now and while they’re still trying to figure out dosages it did completely get rid of the rashes. They want to see how I do on these before they decide how to address the depression. They said if I think I need it they can assign me to someone to see weekly, but really I’m taking baby steps. 

Past all angst and chaos I’ve really not done that much fandom related, and I feel I have to apologize even though I guess I sorta have a legitimate excuse? I did draw some things during my time out in Wisconsin. They’re inked and I had started coloring them but never did finish. I didn’t touch any of my fics, though I certainly don’t want to abandon them, it’s just been a bad time. I did however start on two actual novel-novels, one of which is probably 2/3 of the way through. It was honestly easier in all of this to write something outside of fandom.

As for what I’m currently into, I’m still a big BatFam fan, but I did get into the Marvel Cinematic universe, and several Marvel comic titles outside of that. For the most part not their big main people, I like a lot of the smaller characters and a lot of the alternative versions of main people. I also dove into Teen Wolf the past couple months and a I forgot how much anything werewolf related thrilled me, so it’s been a good time there.

Idk where I’m going from here. I waited to come back to tumblr until I had my own internet connection. I guess I’ll just have to see how things go. I did miss this site’s content quite a bit, and shit, I really missed a lot of the people on here even though I’m sure some of you are gone, and no one has the same profile pics anymore, and a lot of you have even changed your names, so things are confusing, but I’ll figure it out.

I’m glad to be back and I seriously hope I can finish pulled myself out of this hole.

~Vampy