#though the reason I’m disgusted is cause there is not a single normal dude I’ve met ever 😭 they’re all grotesque PLS GOD I JUST EANT TO MEET

[kavehater]

“In general I find the idea of being with a man disgusting but I don’t find it disgusting with him”

- spoken by a lesbian

[svtskneecaps]

crew and cast

(gender neutral) reader x jihoon

genre: fluff + some?? angst? listen i tried lmao; words: 2.8k

well howdy @toxicsocial​ tis i, your tct secret santa. so uh, i can’t actually make people cry in a timely manner and i didn’t figure most people would be down to read like 9k of buildup, so!! the angst is minimal!!! but i tried really hard and i hope you like it i love you so much also i forgot to title it again until right now so don’t look at it too hard

You loved your high school’s theatre crew. From freshman year they’d been a staple in your life. It was refreshingly stable to be able to walk into the tech room anytime and reliably know what would be going on. Except, there was one thing about theatre you couldn’t stand: Lee Jihoon. You’d avoided him since freshman year, but unfortunately for you, you’d taken over the position of Run Crew Head and Prop Master, and he was the Student Director. You were forced to sit through every production meeting with him.

Which, fine. You’d do anything for the show to run well. But that didn’t change the fact that he made you want to commit a crime.

Or three.

“Great news guys!” you yelled, sweeping into the tech room. “The crutches still aren’t right and Jihoon wants us to repaint the brickwork on the platforms to be less ‘garish’ and the typewriter is from the 1940s when it should be from the 1890s and I’m going to set something on fire!”

Chan slammed his head against the nearest cabinet. “This is the third time he’s rejected the brickwork, oh my god.”

“Fourth time he’s hated the crutches too, and I’ve told him that the only period accurate typewriter in the basement is literally one wrong keystroke from breaking onstage but I guess he’s willing to take that risk for a typewriter that’s going to be in one scene.” You massaged your forehead. “I’m gonna stay late Wednesday so we can have our shit together by Hell Week.”

“I’ll have to join.” Chan peeled his head off the cabinet, cracking his knuckles. “You think Mingyu’s got time to spare? I might get him to help; there’s way too much platform for me to do in time.”

“Dunno, he’s pretty busy.” Vernon scooped a loose screw out of a sawdust pile and swept the whole thing into the dustpan. “Makeup’s been working hard to get the ‘ragged urchin’ look right.”

“I’ll con Soonyoung into it then, I don’t think they’re rehearsing the dance numbers tomorrow so he might be free.”

“I wish you luck with that, dude.” You scooped the crutch off the floor. “I gotta go beg costumes to let me into the basement storage and see if there’s another goddamn piece of fabric I can use for the crutches.”

“You have fun.”

You ended up getting lucky; Minghao already needed to go down there so you wouldn’t have to fight for cell signal to make sure you were allowed to deface the cloth scraps you’d found.

“You seem stressed,” he noted as he unlocked the basement door.

You snorted. “Stressed is an understatement.”

“Jihoon again?”

“If he tells me to redo the damn crutches again I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

Minghao lead the way down the stairs. “I really thought you had it that time.”

“Nothing is good enough for that guy.”

He shrugged. “He just wants the show to go well.”

“Yeah, well, so do I. He doesn’t have to get up everybody’s ass sticking his opinions where they don’t belong. He’s never been crew, why does he get to make us repaint the entire damn set anyway?”

“He’s the director.”

“Everyone else thought the bricks looked fine!”

Minghao looked at you sideways. “What’s your deal with Jihoon?”

“Like I said, poking his nose where it doesn’t--”

“No, you had beef before he got appointed Student Director.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He’s always kind of been a pain even when he was ensemble.” You drove your finger into your temple. “And he broke a crucial prop that wasn’t his the night before the show opened and didn’t tell me.”

“You did props?”

“Buddy I was Prop Master. I literally didn’t find out until the Stage Manager tried to run that scene before school.” You glared absently at the shelves of typewriters to one side of the walkway. “I literally had to skip my last three classes and dinner to get a replacement and he never even apologized for it.”

Minghao whistled. “That’s unforgivable.”

“Tell me about it.” You waded through the costume racks to get to the bins of scraps in the back.

“And you’ve never considered forgiving and forgetting? I mean, it’s been two years.”

You sighed, leaning the crutch against a shelf. “I mean. . .”

He snickered. “Come on, it’s just you and me and the ghosts down here, you can say it.”

“I mean. . . he just makes me so mad!” You yanked the lid off a tote with a snap that echoed across the basement. “Like, every time I start thinking maybe he’s not so bad he pulls some other shit on me and I slam right back into hating his goddamn guts.”

“You’re on the same team,” Minghao called down the row. “You’re just trying to make the show better.”

“Making the show better shouldn’t involve painting the entire set three times.”

“I’m just saying, it’d put at least three years back on your lifespan.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You managed to update the crutches by the end of the day, and repainted the entire set on Wednesday--although you had to sacrifice your lunch and free periods and several hours after school to get it all done. Thursday left you with a finished set and another production meeting.

He didn’t like the bricks.

You saw red.

In the hallway, you pulled him aside.

“What don’t you like about the bricks?”

He frowned. “They detract attention from the actors.”

You wanted to seize him by the shoulders and shake him like a maraca. “It’s gray! It is the darkest most nondescript color we have in the buckets and you’re telling me it detracts attention from the actors? You haven’t even seen them rehearse with it!”

“It’s gonna be too much,” he argued. “It’s the same color as half the costumes--”

“I have seen every single costume in the show, it’s not even close to the same pigment!”

“Even still--”

“Listen,” you snapped, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, “if you want the set redone in time for Hell Week then I expect to see you in the goddamn tech room tomorrow after school wearing something you don’t mind getting paint on because I’m not going to make Chan and Vernon repaint the entire damn set by themselves for the fifth time and I have to figure out how to keep that 1890s typewriter from falling apart, do I make myself clear?”

He looked almost disgusted at the prospect, but he nodded stiffly. “Crystal.”

You turned on your heel just as stiffly, striding away before you lost all composure.

To your complete surprise, Jihoon actually showed up the next day, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a shirt so faded that whatever decal had been on the front had long washed away.

“So he arrives!” Chan yelled from his perch on the desk, where he’d been watching you wrestle with the typewriter.

Jihoon looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he squared his shoulders. “Where do you need me?”

“We gotta move all the set pieces in before we start,” Chan said. “Then I’ll probably have you start on the legs. We gotta wait for Vernon before we can move the tall stuff. One sec, I’ll--” he bolted into the hallway.

Jihoon stared after him, then looked to you. “Where is he going?”

“To tell Vernon we’re actually doing the repaint.” You shrugged. “Honestly I’m surprised you showed up.”

“I said I would.”

“Actually you just said you understood the ultimatum; we had no idea if you’d show or not.”

“Oh.”

You shrugged. “Good to have you anyway.”

Chan returned with Vernon before the silence could get too awkward, and you helped them move all the platforms back into the tech room. From there, Vernon set up his speaker and the real work began.

Jihoon helped choose the color of the bricks (and Chan threatened to really break his leg if he changed his mind about it later), and they got to laying down the base coat. You went back to glaring at the typewriter and reading through every antiques article you could find online.

After trying seven different methods to no avail, you shoved your chair away from the desk. “Typewriters are hellspawn created by the Devil himself to punish unfortunate Prop Masters.”

Vernon snickered. “That good, huh?”

“I’m going to put a screwdriver through the keyboard,” you said mildly.

“Okay maybe don’t do that.” Chan paused to pull a clean paintbrush out of his pocket and throw it at you. “You know where the overalls are; come take a break.”

“Why do you just have that?” Jihoon asked.

“A painter is always prepared.”

Jihoon glanced at you. You shrugged. “I don’t question it.”

Between the four of you, you managed to finish all but one platform by the time Chan and Vernon had to go. Being older, you had infinite time, so you cracked your knuckles and sat back at the typewriter. Jihoon lingered in the doorway.

“You need any help?”

You looked up. “Nah, I think I got it. Thank you, though.”

He shifted. “Listen, I know we didn’t really get off on the right foot but, I’m sorry. I know I never really apologized for the prop, and I’m sorry for how long it took, too.”

You sighed. “It’s fine. It’s kind of unfair of me to hold it against you this long anyway, so, I’m sorry too.” It wasn’t the only reason he made you so angry, but that chip on your shoulder made a lot of other offenses you would have normally overlooked seem larger.

“Can we maybe start over?” he asked. “Freshman year all over again?”

You actually found yourself nodding. “As long as you don’t make us repaint the set ever again.”

He laughed, running a paint-stained hand through his hair. “No, I won’t. I can’t do that to your crew again.”

“Good. Cause we weren’t kidding about breaking your legs.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He hiked up his backpack. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

“Happy Hell Week.”

Hell Week was hell (and the sky is blue).

Three of the actors lost their voices four days before Opening Night. One of the glasses for the restaurant scene shattered during the dance number--even though it was supposed to be offstage already--and the third lead got very close to twisting her ankle after landing a jump wrong. The actors could never manage to find their light, there were technical glitches with the backstage mics, and you were so on edge that if you heard the word standby you’d jump so bad you’d bruise your knee on the table.

The typewriter gave you more anxiety than it was worth. The actress using it had strict instructions not to actually touch the keys, because the only thing holding it together was gaff tape. You’d put Jun and Wonwoo in charge of bringing the desk it sat on onstage, because you trusted them to have it under control and keep it from tipping, because if it tipped at an angle any more than about 30 degrees, the keys would get out of alignment and that required time and experience to fix, of which you had neither.

Needless to say, you were two steps away from tearing your hair out.

At least you weren’t fighting with Jihoon, though. You’d even gone out to grab takeout with him for dinner, once, and yelling about all the problems in the car was really cathartic and you came back refreshed and relaxed, for once (only for every muscle in your back to clench at once because an actor bumped the prop table in their hurry to get in costume and one of the glasses fell over).

But it was Opening Night, and you were wound tighter than a spring waiting for everything to go wrong.

And it did.

Jihoon was in the hallway behind the stage, giving Joshua a few final notes about his big solo, and he didn’t check his surroundings closely enough. In his wild gesturing to demonstrate the level of enthusiasm, his arm clipped the typewriter.

And it fell.

He stared at it. Joshua stared at it. You could not tear your eyes from it.

The keys had tilted out of alignment. The bar holding the paper was skewed. The decorative paneling to one side had cracked down the middle. You didn’t have time to fix it before it went on. Maybe you couldn’t fix it at all.

“I am so sorry--” Jihoon started, but you stopped him with a hand, balling the other into a fist.

“Don’t,” you forced through your teeth, because you didn’t want to start yelling at him; it was an honest mistake and it was your fault for not resettling it on the desk after the last run. You were just seething with rage, at yourself, at the typewriter--you didn’t want to project it.

“Ten minutes to go!” someone yelled down the hall. You forced yourself to exhale, gingerly picking it up, flinching with every shift of the keys.

“Is there anything I can--”

“Get to the booth. Tell Seungcheol what happened, just-- be in your place. Jun!” you yelled into the tech room. His head jerked up. “I need you to take over headset for me, can you do that?”

His mouth fell open seeing the typewriter and he nodded, wordlessly, leaping to his feet and hurrying backstage.

Jihoon still stood there, looking between the typewriter and you with an anguished expression. “You’re sure you don’t--”

“I got it,” you said again, clipped. “I can handle it. I can-- just get to the booth, Jihoon!”

You hadn’t yelled. You knew enough not to yell when the audience was already in their seats. But your words had the same effect, because he flinched, and he nodded, and he turned the other way and ran.

Your rage was turning inward as fast as it was dulling, but you had a show to put on, so you placed the broken typewriter carefully on a counter in the tech room and sprinted for the basement.

You managed to get the 1970s typewriter back upstairs and on the desk before it went on, and the show went on without a hitch. The actors hit their marks, all the props found their way back to the prop table, and the pit orchestra didn’t have to loop a section for a missed cue even once.

You waited until everyone was gone before you let yourself cry.

“I really am sorry.”

You looked up.

Jihoon stood in the doorway, twisting his hands.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s partially my fault for not making sure it was centered right.” You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, hoping to disguise the redness. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you want help?”

“I don’t know if it can even be fixed,” you said, staring blankly at the remains of the typewriter in front of you. “It might-- it might be beyond my help.”

For a long moment, you stared at it, mind spiralling.

You pushed yourself up. “They’ll want to lock up.” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll just come in before the show and work on it. Maybe get Jun to grab me some McDonald’s or something and eat during the intermission.”

Jihoon’s brow furrowed. “That’s not healthy.”

“I’ve done it before.” You waved him off. “The show must go on, you know?” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The day came by in flashes as you researched the typewriter with a renewed vigor. You could probably use hot glue and some kind of putty to hide the crack in the paneling, you could probably put the keys back or at the very least tape them to look like they were back, from a distance. The bar at the top would be much harder but you hadn’t really inspected it the night before so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was?

You didn’t feel particularly hopeful when you stopped by the tech room to pick up the typewriter.

Until you saw the typewriter.

“What the fuck.” It was fixed. The keys aligned, the crack sealed, the bar sitting on top just as it was supposed to be. It looked exactly like it had when you’d first set it on that desk.

Jihoon came around the corner, dried putty staining his hands. “Hey,” he said, seeming tired but absolutely beaming at you.

“Did you do this?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t want you putting your health on the line.”

“Oh my god, thank you. I can’t-- this is incredible!” You kept tracing your fingers over the ridge formed by the sealed crack, but you couldn’t see it.

“I did a good job, then?” He put his hands in his pockets, grinning.

“Better than good, oh my god I could kiss you!”

Your cheeks burned when you realized what you’d said, but he laughed. “Whoa, buy me dinner first.”

“Bet,” you said, accepting it like a challenge. “You pick the place, I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” he said, and then lifted his hands. “I gotta wash up.”

“Meet you by the front door in five?”

“It’s a date.”

[teenwolffanclub-me]

Season 2, Episode 1: Omega (Part Two)

once again here’s the masterlist if you’re interested!

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader

Notes: lydia is finally back guys!! I’ve missed her sass the last few episodes & things are going to start heating up just bare with me for these first parts!

                                                        ————————

I stared through the glass double doors in front of me, watching people go about their lives like it was just any other day. To them, it was. But for me, simply standing on this property was raising my anxiety.

I hadn’t been at the school since winter formal, when my life had gone from slightly complicated to completely fucked up. I felt ready yesterday, and this morning, and on the way here. Now that I was standing in front of the entrance, though, I was starting to doubt myself.

“You know what, it’s too soon.” I rolled my eyes at Stiles as he whipped around and gripped my shoulders before trying to walk me backward. “We should just turn around. Get you back in bed. Try again next week.”

I sighed and brushed his hands away. “I can’t be a hermit for the rest of my life.”

As much as I wanted to go back home, I couldn’t let myself hide from the world any longer. I’d have to live my life again eventually. Plus, I had a shit ton of late work piling up, because apparently being bitten by a werewolf isn’t a good enough excuse to miss school in Beacon Hills.

“No, of course not.” Stiles scoffed, twitching his eyes at me before glancing back to the school like it had personally offended him. “Just another week or two.”

I rolled my eyes again and brushed past him, feeling a sudden urge to just rip the band-aid off. I gripped one of the handles in front of me and threw the door open, instantly cringing at the loud noises that assaulted my ears.

I hesitated before the threshold, uncertainty clawing at the back of my mind. This place had forever changed for me. It held this energy now, like what happened to Lydia and I was permanently engrained in the walls. With a deep breath, I forced my legs to carry me inside.

I almost immediately froze, waiting for my presence here to set off some unknown supernatural terror. A gentle hand at my back had me releasing a long sigh, my shoulders relaxing slightly as nothing bad happened.

“You okay?” Stiles peered down at me, his eyes rounded with concern.

Part of me wished that he wouldn’t worry so much. He had a long list of things keeping him up at night, and I didn’t want to be one of them. I hated that he looked at me like I was going to fall off the deep end at any given moment. It obviously came from a caring place, but that didn’t make it sting any less.

I nodded, forcing my lips up into what I hoped was a believable smile. “I’m okay.”

                                                   ————————

“Alright. It’s causing me severe mental anguish to say this, but Jackson’s right. What if the next body part she steals is from someone who’s alive?”

Scott’s head tilted in our direction from his seat in front of us, but he didn’t have a chance to respond as Mr. Harris sighed from behind his desk at the head of the classroom. “This is a pop quiz, Mr. Stilinski. If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career.”

Stiles pursed his lips from beside me, tapping his pencil on the surface of our table as he leaned back in his chair. He’d been trying to talk about something he overheard when spying on his dad—no surprise there—since we sat down a few minutes ago.

“Can you even do that?”

“There it is again.” Mr. Harris smirked, getting an unhealthy amount of satisfaction from messing with Stiles. “Your voice. Triggering the only impulse I’ve ever had to strike a student. Repeatedly. And violently. See you at three for detention.”

Stiles jaw ticked in frustration and he gaped up front in shock. I heard snickering from behind us, and turned to send a glare at Jackson and Danny. It didn’t seem to phase them as they continued laughing at his expense.

“You too, Mr. McCall?”

I spun back around to see Scott peering at us over his shoulder with a grimace just before he faced Mr. Harris again. “No, sir.”

I put my hand over Stiles’ reassuringly as it balled into a fist on top of our table. Our chemistry teacher has had it out for him since school started. There was no real reason, he just seemed to hate him with a burning passion. He always treated him unfairly, doing the same to anyone who dared come to his defense.

Although it wasn’t the most appropriate time to bring it up, we needed to talk about what he heard. Kate Argent’s liver had been “misplaced”, as he said, from her grave. And there was only one person we knew that could possibly do something like that.

It had to be Lydia.

As much as I didn’t want her to be a bloodthirsty monster, the news had restored my hope that she was at least alive. We still needed to find her before Allison’s family, though, which was proving frustratingly difficult.

“Dude. Your nose...” Danny’s concerned voice fluttered to my ears and I couldn’t help but glance behind me to see what was going on.

I watched as Jackson looked between his hand, which was covered in a thick, black liquid, and the paper on his table. My brows pinched in confusion at the sight. That didn’t look like normal blood. The closest thing I could compare it to was the disgusting ooze that came out of Scott when he was shot with a bullet covered in wolfsbane.

Jackson suddenly bolted from his chair, the metal legs scraping against the tiles loudly. He cupped his nose and ran out of the room, his eyes wide with panic.

“Mr. Whittemore!”

He didn’t look back once as he disappeared into the hallway. I faced forward slowly, utterly confused by what I just witnessed. My classmates seemed equally as concerned, but eventually went back to their quizzes at the request of Mr. Harris.

My eyes trailed back to the paper in front of me, my fingers tightening around my pencil. If I thought it was hard to concentrate before, now it was nearly impossible. Aside from the fact that I didn’t know how to do a single problem, my mind was racing with questions. I couldn’t help but think back to last month, when Jackson was acting incredibly strange. 

I chewed on my bottom lip and glanced toward the door at the back of the room. It was taking all the willpower I had not to chase after him to see what was going on. I forced my attention back to the quiz in front of me, squinting at the unfamiliar numbers and symbols.

Scott suddenly turned to glance at me over his shoulder, and whispered harshly. “Why is your heart racing?”

My leg started bouncing anxiously as my gaze swept back to the door. Stiles perked up beside me at Scott’s voice, his eyes flickering around my face in question. He seemed to figure out exactly what I was thinking and put a hand on my arm gently.

“Y/N, just leave it alone.” His voice rose in a quiet plea.

It wasn’t that I actually cared what happened to Jackson. But that whole thing was weird as hell and I couldn’t shake the curiosity bubbling inside me. If there was another supernatural problem brewing, I wanted to know before it got out of hand.

After another moment of hesitation, I jerked to my feet, unable to fight the urge to leave. Stiles’ hand tightened around my arm and Mr. Harris peered up over the rim of his glasses from his desk. Scott, still turned around, shook his head quickly with wide eyes.

Normally, I wasn’t the type to ditch class, but I really felt like I needed to see what was going on. It had gone past usual curiosity and moved toward an uncontrollable impulse.

“Ms. Y/L/N, do you have something to share?” Mr. Harris crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, seemingly amused by my interruption.

Before I knew what was happening, my legs were carrying me toward the hallway. Instantly, the room erupted with hushed whispers. I heard a chair scrape loudly against the tiled floor just as I passed through the doorway.

“Sit down, Mr. Stilinski! If another student leaves my class, I will not hesitate to...” I didn’t catch the end of Mr. Harris’s threat as I made my way down the hallway quickly.

I could only assume that Jackson would’ve gone into the nearest bathroom, which was just down the hall. As soon as I turned the corner, all the air rushed from my lungs as I rammed into a hard chest.

I staggered back with a wince, rubbing at my shoulder as it throbbed in protest. My eyes trailed up the leather jacket in front of me until they landed on one of the last faces I wanted to see right now. Or ever, honestly.

“God, what the hell are you doing here?” I breathed, narrowing my eyes suspiciously at none other than Derek Hale. 

Nothing good had ever followed seeing him in places he shouldn’t be. And he definitely should not be here.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in class?” He quirked an eyebrow at me and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

I scoffed, his concern very much not appreciated. “Aren’t you supposed to be graduated?”

His lips pulled into a frown as his icy blue eyes trailed over me from head to toe and I took a moment to do the same. I hadn’t seen him since the night he killed Peter, but he didn’t look any different, despite moving up the werewolf food chain. When several seconds passed and he still hadn’t said anything, I stepped to the side to brush past him with a roll of my eyes. 

He instantly moved into my path, blocking the doorway to the men’s bathroom in the process. “What do you think you’re doing?”

I glanced from him to the closed door, trying to think of a believable lie before I remembered that I didn’t owe him a damn thing. Including an explanation. “Checking on something.”

“Go to class.” He quipped, standing firmly in place. 

“You do realize that I’m not a part of your pack, right?” I huffed out a humorless laugh, moving to walk around him again. “Just because you’re an alpha now doesn’t mean have any right to order me around.”

Somewhere along the way, I’d grown out of my fear of him. It didn’t really make sense, considering the fact that I watched him murder his own uncle only a few days ago, but here we were regardless.

He didn’t budge an inch, the corner of his lips twitching upward in amusement. “Who’s pack are you a part of, exactly?” 

My jaw clenched at the unspoken meaning behind his words. It was something I’d been wrestling with since being bitten. I still didn’t know much about the supernatural world and all it’s rules. Was I in Scott’s pack? Or Peter’s?

I squared my shoulders and cleared my throat, trying to appear as self-assured as possible. While he was here, I may as well ask something else that had been weighing on my mind. “Speaking of being an alpha now...did you happen to gain any knowledge about how to reverse whatever your psychotic uncle did to me?”

“Sure you want me to answer that?” His eyes trailed over my face slowly, as if studying me. I raised my eyebrows expectantly, and he sighed. “You’d have to ask the one that bit you.”

My heart skipped a beat at his words. I sputtered silently for a few moments, panic quickly rising in my chest. He couldn’t possibly be insinuating that Peter was still alive, right? Right?

“What is that supposed to mean?” The question fell from my lips in a jumbled rush.

“When an alpha turns someone, they have a sort of...connection.” He drawled, as if this wasn’t life-altering, horrible information.

It was quite literally my worst fear at the moment to be connected in any way to Peter Hale. Not only did he royally fuck up my life by biting me, but he killed countless people along the way and somehow made Lydia disappear without a trace. All without a lick of remorse. He was evil in its purest form.

“Even after death?” I prodded, mostly wanting him to confirm that he was, in fact, six feet under. 

“Especially after death.”

My eyes widened in alarm. What the hell did that mean? I parted my lips to bombard him with questions, but froze at the sound of an anxious voice from behind me. 

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing?” I spun on my heel to see Stiles jogging toward me with his hands thrown up in exasperation. “You can’t just walk out of class. Mr. Harris is like seriously pissed.”

I just stared at him, waiting for a moment of realization that never came. “Didn’t you just do the same thing?”

“Well, that’s different. Because—you know what? Don’t go pointing fingers at me when you’re the one being weird. Why did you do that?”

“I was just talking to...” I turned, my brows furrowing as I saw that Derek was no longer standing behind me. I spun back around to face Stiles, stiffening at the look he was giving me. His lips were set in a firm line, his narrowed eyes slightly darkened with frustration.

“Y/N, you’re supposed to be...” He sighed, as if rethinking whatever he was about to say. “Just. Come on.”

He extended a hand out toward me, and I stole one last glance at the bathroom door behind me before taking it, not really wanting to leave my questions unanswered but having no other choice. I let him guide me back to our class, but made a mental note to keep an eye on Jackson from now on.

                                                  ————————

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

I sighed into my locker, shoving the last of my books inside. “Yes, Allison. I’m still fine. Just like the last five times you asked.”

She sent me a sheepish smile and popped her own locker open, rummaging inside for a moment before pulling out a dress covered in a protective plastic.

While all of my friend’s concern was appreciated, it wasn’t helping with the whole trying to be a normal human thing.

“No, it was her aunt.” A hushed voice from across the hall had both of us turning to see what was going on.

Two girls stood against the lockers just a few feet away, and quickly averted their eyes when we made it obvious that we’d heard them.

“The one that murdered all those people?” One of the girls leaned toward her friend and failed at whispering again.

“You mean the crazy bitch that killed all those people? The fire, the animal attacks, it was all her.”

I let my eyes sweep back to Allison, and watched as she slammed her locker shut with a tight jaw. The local newspaper hadn’t been kind to the Argents once word of Kate’s death came out. The sheriff’s department easily connected her to the Hale fire, and immediately ran with the idea that she’d been the one going around killing people.

It was both convenient and utterly untrue, obviously. I’m sure that even in his grave, Peter was more than happy to let her take the fall for his atrocities.

“Are you kidding? I sit next to her in English!”

“Find a new seat...”

The two girls snickered and walked away, either painfully unaware of their surroundings or intentionally being huge bitches. I let out a sigh and turned back to Allison.

“Are you okay?” I let my eyes flicker over her face as she sagged against her locker, her dress held beneath crossed arms.

“Fine.” She sent me a tight lipped smile. “They’re right. My family is crazy. It just sucks that now the whole school knows it.”

This is exactly why I didn’t want everyone worrying about me. Each of my friends had their own shit weighing on them. Allison was grieving someone she knew didn’t deserve it, Scott was dealing with Derek being an alpha, and there wasn’t actually anything going on with Stiles, but he was always anxious anyway.

“Nice dress.” Both mine and Allison’s attention moved to the locker a few down from ours at the unexpected voice.

It was a boy I recognized, but didn’t know the name of. I’d seen him around the school plenty, but hadn’t really crossed paths with him much. His dark eyes swept over Allison from head to toe slowly, sending a uncomfortable prickle up my spine. He looked nice enough, but there was something off about him. I just couldn’t place it.

“Nice camera.” She smiled awkwardly, complimenting the device he held in one of his hands.

Oh right, that’s where I’d seen him. He was always walking around with that thing, taking pictures for the yearbook or something. She turned back to me and furrowed her brows, seemingly just as weirded out as I was. I shrugged one shoulder and we made our way toward the exit.

We had a funeral to get ready for.

                                                       ————————

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Okay, so. I may have forgotten about my detention.

My legs bounced anxiously as I stared at the clock across the room. Stiles let out a slow breath from beside me, his lips twisting angrily as we both counted down the seconds silently. Mr. Harris sat at the front of the room, grading our quizzes from this morning. He’d barely looked at us since we arrived almost an hour ago.

He’d barked the punishment at me when Stiles and I returned to class and honestly, I was surprised he didn’t have anything worse in mind. Not that this didn’t still suck. We were supposed to be going with Scott to Kate’s funeral, although we’d have to hide somewhere within the graveyard since it was for family only.

Time seemed to slow as the seconds ticked by. Stiles held his breath and brought his hands up to squeeze the sides of his face as finally, the clock struck four.

We both bolted upright, only to immediately freeze at Mr. Harris’ curt demand. “Sit.”

“Wha—it’s been an hour!” Stiles threw his hands up in exasperation.

“My detention’s an hour and a half.” The edge of his lips twitched into a smirk as if he got some kind of sick satisfaction from torturing his students.

“You can’t do that.” I huffed, my jaw clenching in frustration.

At this point, we were already running late. The funeral was supposed to start at four thirty and I wanted to talk to Allison beforehand. So much for that, apparently.

“Oh, but I can.” He quipped, his dark eyes dancing in delight as they jumped from me to Stiles. “You see, Stiles...since your father was so judicious in his dealings with me, I’ve decided to make you my personal project. You’re going to benefit from all that strict discipline has to offer.”

I glanced to my fuming boyfriend beside me, the anger rolling off of him almost tangible. His nostrils flared as he worked his jaw, eyes never leaving the man who was steadily moving toward being the worst teacher ever.

I’d nearly forgotten the role he played in connecting Kate to the Hale fire. He’d apparently gone on a date with her several years ago, and detailed how to commit arson and get away with it. Why that wasn’t a red flag for either of them was beyond me. He also ended up recognizing a necklace with their family symbol on it that further helped solidify her guilt.

Let’s just say that Stiles’ dad hadn’t been kind in his sentencing after Mr. Harris kept that piece of information to himself until the last minute.

His eyes narrowed at us as if we were the bane of his existence, despite the fact that he was the one keeping us here against our will. “Now, sit down before I decide to keep you here all night.”

                                                      ———————

Stiles and I scrambled toward the tombstone Scott was hiding behind, moving quickly to remain undetected. Luckily for us, all the attention was on Allison and her parents. There was an excessive amount of reporters surrounding the cemetery, shouting and taking pictures.

We peered around our hiding place as the three of them stumbled their way through the thick crowd, dodging each question that was yelled in their faces. 

“Who the hell is that?” Stiles whispered from beside me, gesturing toward an older man that was talking to that weird guy from school. 

My brows furrowed as I watched him inspect a large camera, which I’m assuming he took from our classmate, before taking out the SIM card and snapping it in half. The guy threw his hands up angrily and snatched his camera back from the smug man. His eyes suddenly flickered our way and we all ducked down quickly.

“Definitely an Argent.” Scott muttered, looking troubled by the idea. 

“Hey, you know, maybe they’re just here for the funeral. What if they’re the non-hunting side of the family? There could be non-hunting Argents. That’s possible, right?” Stiles tried to sound reassuring, but it was obvious that even he didn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. 

There were two men with the older guy, both flanking his sides with nasty scowls on their faces. They were intimidating as hell, even from our safe distance.

“I know what they are.” Scott sighed and glanced at us over his shoulder, his eyes clouded with worry. “They’re reinforcements.”

Before either of us could respond, Stiles’ dad appeared out of nowhere. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him stalking toward us, his face hard with anger. He gripped Scott and Stiles by the collars of their jackets and hauled them to their feet with a jerk. I scrambled upright quickly, eyes wide with panic.

We seriously couldn’t do a damn thing—even support Allison—without being caught or almost killed.

“The three of you.” Mr. Stilinski bit out through clenched teeth, his harsh voice hushed as to not disrupt the service. “Unbelievable. Pick up my tie.”

He sent me a pointed glare and I grabbed the discarded material hastily. I quickly trailed behind them as he shoved the boys toward his car, which was parked just outside the cemetery. He wrenched the back door open and practically threw them inside. I followed suit wordlessly, chewing on my bottom lip as my heart raced with anxiety.

My shoulders stiffened as the car door slammed shut harshly. Scott huffed in frustration and let his head fall back onto the headrest behind him. I glanced between him and Stiles nervously, but felt myself relax—if only slightly—as I saw that neither of them looked all that upset. I guess they were used to this sort of thing, with how much trouble they’d gotten into throughout the years. 

He would probably just give us a lecture and send us home. I hoped, anyway. If he was in a bad mood, we could easily end up at the station for the night.

Mr. Stilinski plopped into the front seat with a long sigh. The radio on his dash went off loudly, a quick string of muffled words filling the tense air of the car. He pulled it free quickly, his brows pinching as he spoke into it slowly. “I didn’t copy that. Did you say four one five Adam?”

“Disturbance in a car.” Stiles instantly whispered, eyes flickering between me and Scott. 

My brows rose in surprise at the fact that he knew the meaning behind the obvious police code. Although, at this point, I shouldn’t have expected any less. It was clear that he’d spent his entire life beside his dad, whether he was aware or not. He’d eavesdropped and snooped his way into knowing way more than any civilian ever should.

“They were taking a heart attack victim to the hospital, but on the way something hit ‘em.” The strained voice came through the walkie-talkie more clearly this time. 

“Hit the ambulance?” The Sheriff’s voice rose with concern, the sound instantly raising my anxiety. It couldn’t be a good sign if he was worried.

“Copy that.” Stiles perked up from beside me and leaned forward, as if that extra few inches would help him hear better. “I’m standing in front of it now. Something got inside the back. There’s blood everywhere...and I mean everywhere.”

My heart skipped a beat, my chest tightening as panic surged through me. I glanced at Scott, and saw that he was already staring at me with wide, anxious eyes. My gaze swept toward Stiles, but he was busy watching every one of his dad’s movements.

“Alright, unit four. What’s your twenty?” He sighed, a little tense but otherwise surprisingly unfazed by what he’d just heard.

“Route five and post. I swear I’ve never seen anything like this.” The deputy was clearly freaking out, making me feel ten times worse.

It only took a split second of hesitation for the three of us to know that we were on the same page. We had to get out of here. Now.

Scott and I popped the doors open and we all tumbled out, instantly running toward the tree line just outside the cemetery. Scott led us through the woods quickly, muttering something over his shoulder about the location being nearby. 

Along the way, I tried bracing myself for whatever horror we were about to find. My mind raced with worst-case scenarios as I struggled to keep up with Scott’s quick pace. It could’ve been Lydia, or Derek, or maybe another supernatural creature we had yet to meet. No matter what, I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.

After a few minutes, Scott suddenly froze mid-stride. Stiles and I clambered to a stop to avoid ramping into him. My chest heaved as I struggled to catch my breath, my eyes roaming over the scene before us quickly as I tried to piece together what I was seeing. 

There was the ambulance, stopped on the side of the road just beyond the trees. A man lay on the gurney inside, covered from head to toe in blood. My stomach churned with disgust as I took in the grotesque scene. There was no way the poor guy was still alive. My heart hammered painfully in my chest as I searched the area for any signs of Lydia.

“God. What the hell is Lydia doing?” Stiles breathed from beside me, eyes wide with alarm.

“Okay, we don’t even know if it—” My attempt at defending her caught in my throat as something tentatively emerged from the trees up ahead. 

I squinted through the darkness, not quite believing what was in front of me. Without hesitation, I bolted toward the road. The earth crunched behind me as Scott and Stiles raced to catch up. I briefly glanced at Sherriff Stilinski as his disapproving gaze fell on the boys and I, but continued my path to the trees on the other side of the road. 

“Lydia?” I called, gaze flickering over her nude form. She walked stiffly toward us, both arms up covering her chest. My mind raced as I processed what I was seeing. 

It was definitely Lydia. And she was in one piece. All at once, I felt a wave of relief wash over me, followed instantly by overwhelming dread. She may be alive, but that didn’t mean she was unharmed. She’d undoubtedly been permanently changed by Peter’s bite and her week long excursion in the woods.

She looked dazed as her wide, unfocused eyes roamed the area slowly. I could see her body trembling from here, and was honestly surprised that she hadn’t gotten hypothermia by now. At night, the temperatures had been dropping to the low forties.

Her strawberry blonde hair was matted and covered in dirt, twigs, and leaves, a sign of her living conditions for the past week. Miraculously, she didn’t seem to be injured in any way. Although, it was hard to tell what was beneath the thick layer of grime covering her skin.

“Lydia!” I shouted, hoping to get her attention as I slowly walked toward her.

Her eyes instantly snapped upward. It looked as if she was coming to for the first time since disappearing. Her eyes rounded before flooding with tears as she visibly fought to steady her breathing. Her lips quivered as she became more aware of all the eyes that were currently on her. 

“Well,” She gasped, her arms twitching in a sort of tense shrug. “Is anyone going to get me a coat?”

Episode 1, Part One                          Episode 2

[brutal-nemesis]

Seasoned Explorers

Uhh yeah I finally had to turn in my writing portfolio AKA I finished my phat fiction story with a whumpy ending! 

This is a VERY non-canon space pirate AU featuring Castys, Syll, and Erebus, all of whom are mortal and completely human here.

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: character death, body horror, implied amputation, self harm to escape from danger

“Hey, Castys, I just picked up another old distress signal. And it’s close by, so we should be able to at least pop by and grab some valuables before we need to head back to base,” Syll said, glancing up from her command console.

“This better not be another planet with one of those giant evil apocalypse monsters still roaming around. The scars that fish thing gave me have not gone away yet.” Castys rolled down his sleeve as he said this, revealing a row of puncture marks that stood out on his bronze skin. He lazily examined them while still driving their spaceship. 

“The cool thing about scars is that they don’t go away.”

“Oh hey shut up look at that it’s the planet-wow it’s super white.” Castys peered out the window at the huge white sphere that had come into view once the ship had slowed down. Syll got out of her chair and joined him in front of the main window.

“Is it winter in both hemispheres? I didn’t think this one was far enough from its sun to warrant this much ice. And I can’t see any structures or oceans or anything, everything must have been completely frozen over. It could be how they all died,” Syll mused.

“Well, if we get too cold we can always just stab ourselves with our thousand degree knives.” Castys pulled out his plasma knife and held it close to his chest, which probably would have killed him if the blade had been turned on. “Big toasty~.” He put it back in his pocket. “Anyway, could you go get Erebus up while I land this thing? I’ll do it in the southern hemisphere since it’s supposed to be summer there and less cold is good.” Syll nodded and went to wake Erebus, who was sleeping on the lower deck of the ship.

Castys landed the ship in a field next to a frozen city. The three of them met near the exit hatch, and Erebus checked the outside conditions display to see if the atmosphere would be breathable. It was, thankfully, but there was something else that stood out on this supposed frozen planet. “Guys… I don’t think that’s ice out there. The temp gauge says it’s warm out there. Like above-the-melting-point-of-water warm.”

“For real?” Castys replied, shoving Erebus aside to look. “Wack. Guess I won’t need all this warmy stuff then. Especially since this planet isn’t one where the atmosphere isn’t made of toxic gas that’s going to burn my skin.” He shed his warmer layers, and the other two followed suit.

When they stepped outside, they had to shield their eyes for a moment. Everything was a blinding white as far as the eye could see. Every tree and building was covered in a layer of glittering crystals. Flowers sprouted here and there, unnaturally still in the breeze. The ground crunched as they walked on it, the only sound disturbing the unnatural silence that pressed on their ears. The dead planets they pillaged typically still had some sort of life on them, something crawling or running or flying about, but everything here was completely still. Frozen, quiet, and crystalline.

Upon entering the city, they began to find the people. Their forms had been hard to make out from far away in the stark-white environment, but there were hundreds of them throughout the streets. Each and every one was frozen in time. Running, crawling, fallen to the ground, screaming in agony, in disbelief, reaching out to one another, staring up to the sky. Perfectly still statues with every flavor of pain and fear written across their faces.

“What...happened here?” Erebus had stopped in front of the form of a woman collapsed on her knees, a look of horror on her face as she stared at her own hands.

“Yeah this is pretty messed up.” Castys nudged the arm of a person lying on the ground, but they didn’t budge. “I don’t know if it’s as bad as that one planet with all the mushrooms...well, I’m sure y’all remember, but these guys are just like, perfectly frozen in their, uh, magic crystal death.”

“What does it matter? We’re not here to play detective for a dead planet.” Syll paid the frozen people no mind, weaving past them as she continued to walk down the street, looking buildings up and down. “Besides, there’s no use getting all sad about dead people we don’t even know. We see them all the time, pillaging dead planets as much as we do, and this time’s no different.”

“I don’t think we’ve seen anything exactly like this before.” Syll shot an annoyed glare at Castys and he held his hands up in surrender, continuing, “I get what you’re saying, though, so I’m down to stop staring at dead people and try to find some valuables.” He began walking with Syll, and Erebus reluctantly followed, giving the dead woman one last glance.

The three of them usually tried to find a museum or building of the sort when pillaging planets, since works of art of precious artifacts were worth a lot more galaxywide than the planet’s local currency ever could be. Normally, street signs and maps could typically assist in their search, but their crystalline coating made them impossible to read. Erebus tried to scrape the crystals off, but his efforts yielded nothing but more crystals. Wandering around looking for a museum was all they could do.

However, once they saw the building in the distance, they knew they had found it. It was much shorter than the surrounding buildings and was flanked by impressive columns and statues. The three walked through the open doors hoping there was something of value inside. The lights no longer worked, but huge windows along the walls allowed enough light in to see, even though the glass had been turned into the strange crystals. The situation inside the museum wasn’t any different from the outside. Every single thing had been converted to crystals, from the skeletons to the works of art, a blank white scene of greatness long-gone.

“I don’t think there’s gonna be anything worthwhile in here since it’s all crystal-y. Let’s just call this one a dud and head out.” Castys began to turn back and head outside.

“Wait.” Erebus held his arm out, stopping him. “A lot of museums have, like, a room with different minerals and stuff right? Maybe if this place had one we could go and see if this planet has some weird mineral that, I don’t know, spread all over for some reason? There’s gotta be a sign with information or something.” 

“That would be a great idea except for, oh yeah,” Castys gestured to a large blank sign next to him, “words aren’t real.” There was an awkward pause. “Like reading words. Here. Because of the crystals. If there was a sign we couldn’t read it. Because everything turned into-” Erebus clamped a hand over Castys’s mouth before he could continue.

“Thank you, Castys. Shut up, Castys.” Castys responded in an even more mature manner by shoving his friend back, causing him to trip and fall on his back. “Ouch. Geez, dude. You made me bite my tongue.”

“OH NO! I’ve killed you, my dear friend.” Castys fell to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him as if in prayer. “Forgive me for this grave sin.”

“Would you two stop fooling around?!” Syll yelled from the top of the large staircase on the other side of the room. “There might still be something worthwhile in this place, even if it is made of these weird crystals. So start looking.” Castys gave her a thumbs up and helped Erebus off the ground before beginning to explore.

After about an hour, the three of them met up in one of the rooms on the upper floor. There wasn’t much of a haul since most of the things they would normally steal, like gold and gems, lost their value upon becoming crystal. They did find a few small figurines that would still be valuable since their delicate craftsmanship was preserved and a few fossils that were probably detailed enough to be worth something. As they moved to leave, Erebus motioned for the other two to wait.

“I might know what these crystals are. I stopped by what used to be the gemstone room, and being in there helped me remember some stuff from that geology class I took when I was younger.” He held up a chunk of crystal he’d picked up from somewhere. “There’s one mineral that you can lick it and you know exactly what it is. Give it a try, Castys.” He tossed him the crystal.

“Well, you know I like licking things.” Castys immediately tried it out, much to Syll’s disgust and Erebus’s amusement. He made a face. “Eugh. It’s just super salty.”

“Wait, it’s actually halite? It’s the mineral that’s just straight-up NaCl, one hundred percent salt. I was hoping it was just going to be quartz or something, here, let me try.” Erebus motioned for Castys to give him the crystal back. 

“So you just wanted me to lick a random rock for no reason? Why didn’t you just try it yourself?” Castys replied, tossing it back.

“Every scientist needs a guinea pig.” Erebus smiled. He licked the crystal and immediately winced. “Ouch, yeah that’s halite all right. Which I normally wouldn’t mind licking, but somebody made me bite my tongue.” He stuck it out for them to see the small wound, but where it should have been red, there was a patch of white. And it was growing bigger. 

“Erebus, what is that?” Syll asked, moving forward to get a closer look.

“I-” was all he could say before his tongue became completely encased in the white crystals and Erebus found he couldn’t move it anymore. The spread of the crystals didn’t stop there. The patch of flesh-turned-salt grew bigger and bigger, radiating out from his mouth. He collapsed to the ground, frantically scratching at his skin, trying to get the rapidly forming layer of salt off. Castys and Syll looked oh in horror as every gouge he made in his flesh quickly changed from red to white, drops of blood only coloring their bleached surroundings for a moment before turning completely into salt. 

“Erebus, Erebus!” Castys grabbed his hand, trying to do something, anything, to help his friend. “What the hell is happening?!” He yelled desperately.

“I-I don’t…” Syll felt rooted to the spot, like she was the one turning into a statue. All she could do was watch as Erebus’s movements became jerkier in his last act of grabbing Castys’s hand tightly with both of his own. And then he was still, completely encased in the same crystal as the entire planet, immortalizing his final moments of agony.

There was silence. Castys and Syll stayed perfectly still, as if they were waiting to see if the same fate would befall them. 

“I-” Castys looked up at Syll, tears brimming in his eyes, “Syll, this is all my fault, I-I made him bite his tongue is that what killed him oh god I-”

“We don’t know what for sure, Castys.” 

“Well then why aren’t I made of salt now too?! I licked it and nothing happened, but Erebus…”

“Hey, hey Castys, it’s okay, you didn’t know, there’s no way you could have known.” She knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, feeling him shake with sobs. She was too much in shock to cry now, it still didn’t feel real. But there was no way Castys could deny Erebus’s fate. His left hand was still tightly clasped between both of Erebus’s. He couldn’t stop staring at his face, one that was laughing and smiling a minute ago, now frozen in an expression of terror. 

They weren’t sure how much time had passed, but when the light coming in from the windows began to dim, Syll stood and offered a hand to her friend. “Come on, Castys. Let’s...let’s go home.” Castys nodded wordlessly and started to stand, but when he tried to pull his hand out from Erebus’s, it wouldn’t budge. He tugged and tugged, but he couldn’t free himself from the dead man’s grip.

“Syll, Syll, my hand is stuck. He won’t let go.” He looked up at her pleadingly, the grief in his eyes beginning to mix with fear. 

“Uh-I-I don’t…” She had an idea immediately, but she hated herself for thinking of it. She looked around checking her pockets and her bag for some other solution, but there was nothing else she could think of. Nothing else she could do besides use her plasma knife. “Hold still.” She turned the knife on, the superheated blade flickering into existence, and positioned it near one of Erebus’s wrists. “I’m sorry, Erebus.” The knife cut through the salt easily, melting it before it even came in contact with the blade. When she was done, Castys lifted his arm, hand still clasped between the disembodied salt ones. He began to try to pry them off, and Syll joined in once she had turned her knife off. One of the hands snapped with an audible crack, fingers breaking off and leaving behind jagged stumps. One of which sliced into Castys’s palm.

Red blood oozed out of the gash, but that red quickly faded to white as crystals began to replace flesh and blood. “No, no, STOP!” Castys screamed, holding his hand as far away from himself as he could, as if that would stop him from meeting the same fate as his friend. “Stop it please I don’t want to die I’m sorry Erebus I’m so so sorry!”

Syll felt like she was on autopilot as she grabbed his wrist in one hand and the knife in the other. There was no time to think, no time to hesitate. She couldn’t lose them both.

 She turned the knife on and swung. 

There were three severed hands made of salt lying on the ground. But there were two flesh and blood people. They were hurting, to be sure, but they were alive. They could escape. And escape they did, leaving the silent planet of salt behind.

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Hello,

So, it's funny because i was depressed right? and then as we all know the world kinda got scary, and now it's like i almost have a reason to feel validated in my feelings of hopelessness, which doesn't make me feel great, but does seem to kind of level me in this strange way.

I spend too much fucking time on reddit. I live in Portland, and basically i worked for this really extremely poorly run restaurant/brewery pub called Laurelwood. It's a long story, but the place has the worst management. Some of the people weren't like, bad people, but the way it was managed was really bad in ways i would have to spend hours explaining. They recently did a deal with Ninkasi a little over a year ago and now you can find their beer everywhere, and i guess if you are into beer most people seem to like it, so it's not really a diss on their alcohol itself though i am more of a hard liquor/hard cider fan and beer isn't typically my thing unless it's some desserty imperial stout. They expected a lot from their employees - and because of their poor management they also kind of let a lot of us get away with stuff. So we kind of, as employees created a very strong personal work ethic and friendship amongst one another in turn, we within reason broke rules and had a system of doing it to where we remained competent and managed ourselves, as our management was failing and self centered. If it wasn't the really cool friends i made there - some of the closest friends i have ever had and a ton of first time unique experiences - i learned a ton about myself and grew a lot in that position, i probably would have hated it. the owner was the kind of boomer who wanted to pull in hype of like, young trendy Portland kids, but they really made it look like a bad wannabe applebees and never really valued the fact that we were basically keeping the place open for him, so the aesthetic was kinda lazy and the demeanor between us and our top heavy upper management was pretty separated.

Anyway, since of course i worked in this field when the whole pandemic thing happened, I was naturally laid off. They didn't pay us. They sent us a message saying they just didn't have the money, and it's clear that they hoped to just, kinda, take the money they had left and bounce. The message was vague and demeaning, and everyone in the last three weeks is essentially working for nothing. So, one of the brewers, a pretty nice dude named Brandon that i didn't know too well, went on reddit and was respectful and clear, about how this really messed him up. They not only cannot pay us for the last two pay periods, but they also had a lot of their previous checks bounce. This on top of the financial collapse. To me, it's bad, but i sort of expect a lot of bad stuff now. I mean, this kind of collapse was a long time coming. I imagine it's going to take literally years for Portland to bounce back. I hear horror stories from long time Portlanders about how pretty decent people just became homeless during the recession of 2008, and i have a feeling this is going to be even worse. I feel like thus far in my life, though i've had a lot of really bad luck with relationships and family stuff, and sometimes my health, I've never had to really worry about something like this so directly impacting me. When 2008 happened, i was 19, I had never worked and lived with my parents on bare minimum, but my life had always been that way so i never felt that bad about it, though on retrospect it was kind of neglect. I lived in a factory town that had particular staples and products that never were that hit by the market crash, so that particular town in Idaho never saw a real drop in unemployment. I read about the collapse a lot, watched the Big Short and stuff, so i have my fairly strong opinions about it, but it's never actually caused me to go without. My mother is a nurse at a nursing home, and my father worked at a bullet factory. And like i said, i was relatively unaffected.

The message from Brandon took off, on reddit, thousands of people are seeing it and are disgusted, and they are being turned in for not paying us, because that is theft, that is illegal. I am willing to sign whatever documents neccesary when it comes down to it, if i don't get paid eventually. I was already personally very bad off, and i have this bitter realization that after the damage of this pandemic takes it's toll, I'm gonna have to struggle hard. I am not even mad at this point in a personal way. I just think companies need to know you don't fucking treat people this way. That the principle of the matter is that we are not just cogs for businesses to step on. We need to make the wealthy, even the vaguely wealthy people know that they need to appreciate fully those who work for them and under them, and when something bad happens, and they better intend on taking care of those people, or whatever their business model is is going to fail. It goes without saying that this pandemic has exposed a lot of what was already there. I think some people are naive enough to believe this corruption or this problem was unexpected. Lawmakers, and people who are privileged should have worked to make sure that hospitals had enough for the worst case scenario, and that there needs to be a safety net for people. None of these issues are new. I mean, it's not, at all. This is the rich doing the same old shit they have always done, and i imagine, trying so hard not to be pessimistic, but imagining just the same that this is only going to get worse. There are so many homeless drug addicted and mentally ill people in Portland already it's crazy. There was already rent that was impossible for full time employees to pay. It's funny because all these 'luxury suites' are being built throughout town in Portland, and i wonder now who they think is going to move in. Most of them were empty anyway. It's a mystery to me, because in a way it is classic gentrification the way they tore down old buildings and built these giant fancy expensive apartment buildings everywhere, but kind of weird because they were mostly empty. I mean, how could that have been worth it to investors or business owners?

I guess there is a lot I don't know about the stockmarket, banks, finance, housing and such, but it stands to reason that if you spend hundreds of millions to build something and nobody can afford to live there or pay your inflated rent, why are you bothering? I was told that a lot of these places were because of the Portland's population grew so much and these buildings were just now being built from people who had hoped to ride the 'rich Californian movers' era. The rent has just become kind of unmanageable. It's normal to live in a house with four or five people, all working full time just to maintain a single bedroom in a house of half-strangers. Meanwhile, studios that don't even come with a separate bedroom are nearly 2000 dollars, and things that should be there to help the homeless like tiny houses are marketed to rich minimalists who are so bored and guilt ridden by their own privilege they have to pretend to be quaint little peasants in order to feel unique in their own position, that they literally make it expensive to live in something not unlike a camper. But Portland is now just kind of at a steady growth. They came to late, and now with what's happened, what comes next.

Anyway, i am not leaving this city. I hated Idaho. It was a sad place for me, and i see a lot of beauty in Portland. I feel like i have a personal relationship with a good portion of the city. I tried to walk ten miles a day the first year i lived here. I lost a lot of weight here, fell in love here, I had a lot of meaningful experiences, met new people, gained new perspective. I've been afraid for my life here, drank more here, lost and found myself i mean, it's been an adventure in and of itself that becomes clearer to me now the more i have been here. I really do love Portland. It's sad but a lot of places i really loved and appreciated here in Portland won't be here anymore when this is over. A lot of small businesses i really appreciated. The kind of stuff that makes Portland really interesting, or reaching for something new. I hope that culture will crop up again, but we shall see.

I have a dry cough, and i wonder if i am catching Covid 19. My throat tingles a little, and I've already had two fever/colds in the last month, so something tells me this is it. Like a pregnant woman waiting to give birth or something. I am self quarantining. I'm a little nervous because a friend of a friend has a cousin in the FBI who has heard word from his superiors that they are considering the possibility of a full on quarantine, closing even the grocery stores. I didn't want to give in to early hysteria, like the toilet paper thing baffled me. I remember people getting really scared about Pigflu and Birdflu in the past years, but it didn't seem to really spread too far, though i did catch the Pigflu. My foodstamps refill on the 7th, so i hope if this does happen, they don't close by then. I just need to get in and get some bare essentials, because it now is looking like it might be smart to stock up now.

It's funny too, because i am not a homebody. I naturally am inclined to be depressed if i stay in one place too long. I have a somewhat mild case of ADHD, and i love to move, and i enjoy working. If i won the lottery, i'd still work in some fashion for 20 hours a week because i realize i don't feel satisfied living for myself. I like having a civilian duty, even if it's just cleaning off tables. I like feeling useful and connected to people. But i have a leg injury that's not going to heal on it's own, so walking has hurt me for the last eight months, and now this, and i have a health condition that makes it pretty easy for me to gain weight. So i am trapped in the house, snacking and trying to find things that make me laugh or inspire me. I did get inspired to start making paper mache masks. I think i can make the most of my quarantine time. I just hope they don't close the grocery stores before i get my money.

I am worried about both my parents. I have a lot of family, so it's not that unlikely i could lose someone to this virus. I am not concerned with myself that much. I could die, but the chances are relatively low. I am reading a lot of informed reddit posts, about the aftermath of this whole thing, and i'm a little bit nervous.

[floof-reppu]

Invalidity

[omg, so... I may or may not have written a first part to what I hope will be a long ass series... about a Villain AU Mt. Lady. I.. kind of ended up throwing my OC in there, but why the fuck not? anyways... if this is well-received, I’ll definitely continue it soon!!]

Word Count: 2.8k

“You’re absolutely disgusting. You’re a terrible person, and I never want to see you again-”

“You really believe you’ll never see me after this? Think again. I’ll be on the front of each and every published print in Japan, and then the entire earth. You’ll remember me as more than just a pretty face; you’ll remember me as your goddess.”

It was easy for Yu to get the upper advantage in a situation. On the streets during daylight hours, everyone knew her as the likable Mt. Lady. She was loved by all, children and adults alike. But the fame was beginning to get to her. If she wasn’t on the front page of every published tabloid and magazine in Japan, nobody was allowed to be on the front.

It was this ideology that made the pro into somebody sinister, someone who was willing to cross the lines between heroism and villainy alike.

Yu Takeyama wanted to make it bigger than every other hero, no matter what.

Even if that meant turning to crime as the answer.

...

Another day, another crime, another interview; the cycle always repeated itself.

Today, us as The Lurkers just so happened to have an easy criminal to apprehend. I sustained minimal injuries, even as I haphazardly took a chunk out of a nearby building without thinking and threw it at the villain. I was lucky I didn’t injure any surrounding civilians in the process with how forcefully I threw the concrete. Today definitely wasn’t the best of days. 

And to top it off, I was berated by Edgeshot and Kamui for acting recklessly. Come on, can’t you give a girl a break every once and awhile? I’m lucky the press showed up after the fact and had no clue of the… mistake I made.

“Mt. Lady, tell us, how do you feel about the rising crime rates in Japan? Do you believe that pro heroes such as yourself and your fellow members of The Lurkers are going to be able to keep up?”

Interviews were just another part of being a pro hero. The citizens always want to believe that everything is going to be okay, that every single villain that attacks the city is going to be apprehended. I always made sure to sugarcoat the truth in order to keep chaos at bay, because hell, I’m busy enough as it is.

“Of course! It’s our duty as heroes to keep crime at bay. Just because the rate is rising doesn’t mean we aren’t doing our jobs right.” Smiling at the camera was about all I could do to ease the nerves in my stomach. Was I scared? A little. The future of society was starting to become uncertain with the number of crime syndicates rising, as well as independent criminals.

Sometimes I question if what I’m doing is the right thing. But all I could do is put on a brave face and act like everything is okay, at least for the time being.

“I see! Thank you for your time!”

“We- ...I-It’s no trouble at all!” That’s usually not how it goes, at least most of the time. I’m sure there was a reason the reporter cut me off short. 

I took a look through the window of one of the nearby shops. 5:38 P.M. Damn, it’s already that late? I guess I was so caught up with the media that I didn’t really pay attention to the time, since I was technically done patrolling a little over a half hour ago. 

I really am an attention hog, aren’t I?

…

Do I ever go out during the night? It usually depends on how busy the day was, or my mood. Sometimes I’ll go out for a drink or two, out of costume of course (since if I didn’t I’m sure my reputation would be ruined if I was seen drinking in public), at one of the local bars near my apartment. It’s not uncommon for people to recognize me, but I’m technically off-duty when my entire costume is off and put away in my dresser. It’s always nice to unwind after a long day of doing my duties as a pro, alcohol or not. 

“Ah, come in for yer usual, Takeyama?” The bartender greeted me, grin plastered on his grungy face. You could tell that he spends most of his hours here, the disgusting five o’clock shadow dusting his jawline. 

“Nah, I’ll go for a whiskey on the rocks tonight,” I leaned across the bar and placed a thousand yen bill over to him, “and keep the change. Don’t get the wrong idea, though.”

“Aye, so are you really with Nishiya-”

“Not in a million years. We’re just good friends, is all. I’m as single as the next woman that walks into your bar for a drink.” God, how I hate this dumbass. Just ‘cause I’m on the same team as Shinji and we spend time together as friends doesn’t mean shit. 

I watched him grab a glass full of ice and pour bourbon whiskey over top until it was almost ready to spill over.

“Got’cha. Here’s your drink.” 

The cheap smell of alcohol flooded my senses as the drink was slid over to me. I took it in my free hand, pinky dangling over the edge, and went over to the darker corner of the bar to survey my surroundings. Sitting down in an old wooden chair, the bar was mostly empty, save for a few of the normal groups of coworkers who frequently drink together. You wouldn’t catch me drinking with any of my coworkers, though.

There was one man, however, who caught my eye. Clad in a nice shirt and dress slacks, it seems like he just came back from working himself, and you could clearly tell that he dyed his hair, white being the predominant color on top and neatly cut raven locks underneath. He looked quite familiar to me, but I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly who he was.

No better time like the present to find out.

“Hey, you.” I spoke in a monotonous voice, my face showing almost no emotion as I tried to get the man’s attention. He looked up from his smartphone to glance at me, but didn’t give me a second thought as he went back to what he was doing.

Oh, hell no. 

I stood up and started to march my way over to his table while resisting the urge to get up in his face and cuss him out in more ways than one. His grey irises were fixed on one of the many social media platforms installed on his damn phone, which was a bit aggravating, but I guess he was used to it since he was sitting by himself. 

“Did you not hear me? I was trying to get your attention,” I placed my palms on the opposite end of the table and leaned over, staring straight into his soul.

“I heard you, I’m just a bit preoccupied, lady.” 

“Then I don’t think you’d mind if I took this from you-” The classy glass of wine that sat on the table right next to him was wide open, so of course my right hand took a dive to grab it, but then out of nowhere it seemed to vanish and reappear on the other side of him. “Okay, what the fuck was that?!”

“Don’t you know not to touch what’s not yours?” The man grinned, finally setting his phone down. “Aren’t you Mt. Lady?”

“Wow, aren’t you smart.” I snorted, rolling my eyes and sitting down across from him. “What gave you that idea?”

“Platinum blonde locks of hair styled to look the way they are, hair all the way down to the top of your ass, the ‘give me attention’ attitude? Yeah, it wasn’t that hard.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest and gazing down to my hands. “I never figured you as the type to go to disgusting bars like this.”

“It’s my choice, not yours. Besides, you’re also here, right? Means you don’t think this place is half bad.” 

“You’re smart and intuitive. Shame that you’re going out with-”

“Don’t you fucking dare. There is nothing going on between Kamui Woods and I, thanks.” 

“Then let me be the one to introduce myself,” he stuck his hand out over the table. “Hayato Kurosawa. I’m a pro hero just like yourself, but you’ll just have to find out-”

“Chrono, right?” I should have known, especially with the way he made his drink disappear like that. His quirk is labeled as Time Manipulation, but I just call it plain trickery. I’ve only worked with him once on a mission, and I haven’t seen him since. No wonder I didn’t recognize him at first glance. 

“-damn, you remembered. It’s been awhile since we’ve seen each other, but even then we never got introduced formally-”

“Takeyama. Yu Takeyama.” I shook his hand with a firm grip, giving him the most genuine smile I could muster. Man, was his palm sweaty.

“Ah, well, er, it’s nice to meet you? Hahaha…” Kurosawa averted his eyes, a small blush creeping onto his face. Was this dude seriously flustered?

“Anyways…” I retracted my hand back to my side of the table, palm down. “Care to share why you were sitting alone?”

“Going to the bar with other pros is unethical, at least in my opinion.” 

That entire statement made absolutely no sense to me. How is going to the bar with a couple of buds from the hero biz unethical? I decided to stay silent and not voice my opinion, but something tells me that Kurosawa isn’t all that he’s cracked up to be.

“I have a question for you, Takeyama,” he started, folding his hands neatly on the table, “why are you so interested in the media?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your entire costume, at least to me, screams sex appeal just as much as your hero persona. But yet you’re so much more relaxed and carefree now that you’re out of costume. Are you just trying to put on a show to get attention?”

I instantly froze up.

At first, I wanted to be a pro so I could not only make money and provide for myself and any future family I might have, but also so that I could help those who couldn’t help themselves. My quirk turned out to be more destructive than useful in an urban area, but that didn’t stop me from establishing my agency in the big city. If I had gone to a much more rural area, I would never have gotten the attention that I’m currently getting.

Am I being fake? 

I’d like to think that I’m not, but the more that I pondered this thought, the more that I came to the realization that I wasn’t being true to my purpose as a pro hero. Does that make me a hero, or does that make me, in theory, a villain? 

Honestly, I don’t know what I am anymore.

…

I went home that night with a few more glasses in my system. 

Kurosawa thankfully escorted me back to my apartment, as the post-it note on my counter-top claimed, along with his phone number scribbled hastily below. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t try to take advantage of me in my drunken state. It wasn’t the first time I’d gotten horribly drunk, but it was the first time that someone had thought to escort me back to my apartment.

I’m sure I told him where I lived while I slurred my speech or some shit. 

Waking up this morning was a nightmare. Immediately, I had to rush to the bathroom and vomit all of the contents in my stomach from last night into the toilet. God, I absolutely hate hangovers. After a solid minute of throwing up and wiping my lips off with toilet paper, I walked to the kitchen and saw the note he’d left for me.

‘Text me if you want to talk about last night, or if you’re bored.’ 

“What the hell…” Kurosawa is definitely an interesting man, and who knows what he might turn out to be to me. But right now, I should probably try to get rid of this nausea.

Grabbing a bottle of water from my fridge, my mind drifted back to the words he said last night. I couldn’t recall what I said after that, but chances are I avoided the question and started to drink my problems away like usual. I hate how I got so worked up over what Kurosawa said, whether his question was out of sheer curiosity or seriousness. I went to go sit on my sofa, turning on the television and opening the water bottle, taking a swig of it before screwing the cap back on. 

The interview from last night was on. My smile was forced, my words a lie... I was no better than the criminal I helped to apprehend. I’m still no better than them. I put on a brave face to hide my fear, even now my face was scrunched into an expression I couldn’t begin to describe with words. All the movements I made were exaggerated, exuberant, fake. I wanted the camera to focus on me, on what I had to say, not the damn reporter. It seems that the cameraman got the memo and zoomed in on all of the parts I wanted to be highlighted.

That’s why, when my phone buzzed, I didn’t know what to expect. It was my day off, after all. The name Shinji Nishiya flashed on the screen multiple times, and I picked up my phone.

“Yeah, what’s up?” I propped my legs on the coffee table, laying back on my sofa. 

“Yu, are you watching the National News?” Shinji’s voice was laced with concern, which made me worry.

“No, what’s on the National News?” I picked up the television remote and changed the channel, and instantly I dropped everything. What was the headline, you might wonder?

Mt. Lady: A Hero, or a Villain in disguise?

What the fuck. 

“Last night, civilians recall the pro hero Mt. Lady endangering the lives of innocent bystanders as she violently hurled a chunk of a nearby building at a criminal. While this managed to take said criminal out, there is no excuse for this kind of behavior as a pro hero.”

“That’s very true. If she had common sense, she would have never risked civilian casualties, nor would she have purposefully damaged public property.”

“She’s only in it for the attention. Either that, or she’s just that dumb.” 

She’s only in it for the attention.

Either that, or she’s just that dumb.

“Yu? Yu, are you-” I hung up on Shinji, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.

My career, my reputation as a hero, is ruined. One of those goddamn civilians said something out of spite, and now look what happened. I’m done for. 

I turned off the television and threw the remote across the room. The tears came flowing out like a waterfall, and I sobbed uncontrollably, head in my hands as I started thinking about what would happen next. I didn’t want this to be the end of my career, no, I wanted to make it big, I wanted to be the smiling face that people of all ages would come to love and enjoy. But it was all taken out of my hands as soon as that report aired. 

But I… kind of liked the attention that I was getting. I loved the way they talked about me as if I was famous nationwide, as if everyone in Japan knew my name. If they didn’t know before, they sure did know now. That’s when I knew it had to be true, what I had thought about earlier.

If I was willing to do something like that just for the attention, I really must be fake.

But... I’ll show Japan that I don’t have to be a hero to make a name for myself.

Fuck the system, I can do whatever the hell I want and get away with anything I want to. I’ll be on the front of every magazine, be the highlight of every news report, have entire articles about me, myself and I. Today, I was reborn as a different being. One that didn’t care what the media thought, and one who wasn’t fake, because I’m being true to my personal goals.

Because this is the real me, and this is who I want to be.

[iwillgiveyoumyhappiness]

최산, Choi San

shizziebo asked:

Could you write a collage au where you & san have a competitive/teasing manner to how you interact with each other & cause of this, you don’t really get along but you’re close friends with the rest of the boys (that’s how you met) & they’ve slowly become fed up with how they treat each other & are convinced that you two actually like each other but are just afraid to admit it cause you think you’ll both get hurt, so they set up an intervention to get them to become friends... well, lovers????

Group: ATEEZ (에이티즈)

Member: San

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“Wow,” San said, seemingly amazed. He spoke quietly so as not to be caught by their World History professor, or ratted out by the other students. Though, by this point, he was mostly being quiet out of courtesy for everyone’s naps. 

This teacher was always a snooze-fest.

“I can’t believe you actually smell like feet,” he said to her. “Incredible, really. How do you even get that scent? Is it a custom order, or...?” he trailed off. 

She rolled her eyes at his teasing. It was nothing new, and it hadn’t been since the first day she’d met him. 

Actually, that wasn’t true. The first day that she’d met him (after being introduced to him by her close friend and chemistry seatmate, Wooyoung), he was the perfect gentlemen. He was kind, filled to the brim with charming smiles, he pulled out her chair and he even opened doors for her.

She was pretty charming herself. She returned every compliment she received with a genuine air, she laughed at his jokes—even when they were dumb—and she tried her best to include him in any conversation that she and Wooyoung might’ve been having. 

But that all changed after they got to know each other. And when the six other rowdy but lovable guys in their friend-circle was added into the mix? 

Only chaos could ensue. 

“Don’t be a jerk,” she whispered back, turning a little in her seat. “At least I don’t smell like ass.” 

He smirked at her. “Unlike feet,” he began, “ass is delicious.” 

She made a disgusted expression. “Dude, don’t even pretend like you’ve got game,” she scoffed, turning away from him. “And if you pull my hair one more time, I’ll smack you into next week.” 

His eyes widened a little. It was like she could sense him. He’d found that sitting one row behind her gave great access for hair-pulling at random times, but she’d seemed to have figured out his pattern.

Begrudgingly, he pulled his hand back, grumbling a little. “I’ve got more game than you think,” he said, crossing his arms and glaring at the back of her head. “Hooked up with this girl the other night, in fact. She was gorgeous.” 

“Does it look like I care?” she sighed, tapping her pencil against her notebook thoughtlessly. “Besides, anyone can tell that you’re lying.” 

They heard a hushed groan, three rows down from them. 

“Can you two shut up?” 

They recognized that scolding, perpetually exasperated tone of voice. The one and only—Park Seonghwa, founding member of the debate team. He had the pleasure of being their friend, but the displeasure of being in the same class as them. 

He rubbed his temples, unintentionally mirroring a single mom with too many kids and not enough me-time. “You guys are so much more bearable on your own,” he sighed. “Can you just date already, put me out of my misery?” 

San’s face screwed up in partial disgust, partial cringe. “Ew,” he said, stopping himself from being too loud. “If I wanted to date feet, I’d at least find pretty feet.” 

She clenched her jaw. “And if I wanted to date ass, I’d find ass,” she quipped. “Pretty or otherwise, it’d still be better than you.” 

Seonghwa groaned, burying his face in his arms. 

+++

“You two are an embarrassment to society,” Seonghwa huffed once the bell rang, packing away his pencils and notes. 

She looked down at the floor, a little apologetic. “I’m sorry,” she said, well aware of how irritating her bickering with San could get sometimes. She got irritated with it herself, but he made no effort to stop it, so her pride didn’t see a reason to either. 

“I’m not,” San said with a small chuckle, slinging his bag over his shoulder and shoving his hands into his varsity jacket pockets.

She rolled her eyes, nudging him firmly with her elbow. She grabbed Seonghwa’s bag for him, handing it over with pleading puppy-dog eyes. “Still friends?” she asked. 

He melted a little, a small smile spreading on his lips. “Fine,” he said, grabbing the bag. “Let’s just go meet the others, yeah?” 

For once, she and San both agreed, nodding their heads in unison. 

Meeting up with the others for lunch was always the highlight of their days, no matter how they looked at it. Lunchtime had become their escape from normal life. It was when they would talk about everything and nothing at all. 

Everything was always insane at their table—loud and incoherent—but it was their insane, so they understood it well. They always did, and they always smiled because of it. 

They had a dumb little group name for themselves, given by the great Song Mingi, member of the Theater and Arts Club, along with Kim Hongjoong. They’d given the group the name ‘Aurora’. 

Everyone knew that (despite Mingi pitching the idea for it), Hongjoong had to be the mastermind behind the name. He spoke about it so passionately and with such detail. Even if it was a little silly to have a name, they couldn’t help but fall for it. 

She and San had been initially against it, thinking it was stupid, but when they saw all the sparkles in Hongjoong’s and Mingi’s eyes as they talked about it, they couldn’t bring themselves to say no, so they just nodded awkwardly, accepting their fate.

The name had grown on them a little, if they were being honest. 

When they got to the food court, Wooyoung was the one to wave them over, as always. He had that same million-dollar grin plastered to his face. It was the kind of smile that made the semester bearable, if that makes sense. 

As per usual, when she sat down, San snagged the seat right next to her, giving her a look of ‘you’re-not-getting-rid-of-me-that-easy’. 

“Why do you always do this?” she huffed. She stabbed a piece of her food, perhaps a little too aggressively, the table making a clattering noise. 

He poked her forehead. “’Cause it pisses you off,” he said before diving into a bowl a noodles. 

She was two seconds away from calling him an asshole, but she decided to let the others have some peace for once. The last thing she wanted for her unreasonable arguments with San to get in the way of having fun with her friends. 

Instead, she scooted to the right, closer to Yeosang. 

Yeosang was a quiet guy that kept mostly to himself, never really joining any clubs on campus. She and him had bonded over her accidentally catching him singing one day. She’d forgotten her bag in Creative Writing, and when she went back to the seemingly empty classroom, she was blessed by a beautiful voice. 

When she started clapping for him after he was finished singing the gentle ballad, he was beyond embarrassed, red-cheeked and mortified. She complimented him so much after that, telling him that he should be confident in himself. 

Their friendship had grown from there.

When she invited him to their lunch meetings, that was when she found out that him and Wooyoung had been friends since before school even started. She was mildly offended that Wooyoung had never introduced him to her.  

Yeosang looked over at her, glancing at their shoulders, almost touching. “Reason?” he asked. She gestured to San, taking another aggressive bite of her lunch. He nodded. “Ah,” he said simply. He went back to pushing his food around his plate until he found a suitable piece of food.

Cafeteria food was bad, even in college. 

+++

She and San had run off a few minutes ago, having to head to their next classes. Luckily, in different directions.

Seonghwa sighed as he stood up and grabbed his plate. “They’re getting worse,” he said, a concerned wrinkle in between his brows. 

Wooyoung let out a relieved breath of air. “I’m glad I’m not the only one that thinks so!” he said. “You can tell she’s still not big about arguing in front of us, but San’s completely given up. He’ll beef with her anywhere.” 

“Honestly,” Yeosang started, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I think they should just kiss already; get out all their frustrations.” 

Yunho snapped his fingers. “You think so, too?” he gasped. “Oh my gosh, me too!” 

Seonghwa nodded. “I mentioned something along those lines this morning,” he said. “It’s obvious that they like each other.” 

Mingi scoffed. “Yeah, so much that they hate each other,” he said. 

“There’s thin line between love and hate,” Hongjoong said wisely. “I think that’s why they act the way they do.”

Jongho hummed aimlessly, lost in thought. “So,” he started, thoughtfully dragging out the vowels and tapping his fingers on the table, “if we got them to date each other, do you think they’d be less annoying?” 

Yunho nodded, wiping up the crumbs on the table. “Probably,” he said. He raised a brow. “Why?”

The youngest gained a devilish smirk and a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Then I have a plan,” he declared. “And it’s fool-proof, so you know San won’t catch on.” 

+++

The weekend was a perfect time to carry out their devious plans. No classes, just infinite opportunities. 

“Isn’t this a little schemey?” Mingi asked worriedly, a bouquet of flower shoved into his hands. He crinkled his nose, the smell getting to him. 

“Of course not,” Jongho said, smiling gently. “It’s very schemey. But it needs to be done, so it’s okay.”

Seonghwa snorted, crossing his arms. “Let me know how that holds up in a court of law,” he said. 

Jongho held up a hand, demanding silence from the eldest. “Just hush.” He looked back to Mingi. “Do you have the note?” 

Mingi dug around in the bouquet for a moment before spotting the lavender-colored note. “Yeah,” he said, “it’s here.” Said note was something Wooyoung had forged for them. Being her friend the longest, Wooyoung had gotten well acquainted with her handwriting. 

It read: 

Her name was sighed neatly at the bottom. Hongjoong had argued that it was a little too neatly, considering her handwriting was always a little messy when she was in rush. 

Hey, jerk.

I just wanted to say something real quick, but it’s awkward to say it in person. 

I hate that we fight so much. It’s annoying to me, and I know it’s annoying to the guys, too. Wanna stop? ‘Cause I know I want to. 

Meet me at the fountain if you wanna resolve this, or something. 

“How do you know she rushed this?” Wooyoung had asked, trying to sound over philosophical. “When it comes to love, you should take your time.”

He’d basically given up at that point. “They still hate each other right now, though.” 

Worry passed across Mingi’s face again. “Are you sure he’ll buy this?” he asked. “It seems sketchy. Also, why do I have to do it? I’m a terrible actor!” 

“You’re his roommate,” Jongho said. “You’ll the only one he’ll believe when it comes to this.” 

Mingi sighed. “Fine.” He pouted. “I’ll try my best.” 

Yunho gave him a pat on the back. “You’ll do fine,” he said, trying his best to cheer him up. The rest of the group started walking away. “Remember, get him to the fountain at 6, no matter what. If you have to drag him, go for it.”

“You’ll have everything set up?”

The taller boy nodded, flashing him a thumbs up. “For sure.” He gave a quick wave before joining the others and rushing down the hall. They had some things to take care of. 

Mingi took a deep breath. It was now or never.

+++

“No way these are from her,” San scoffed, tossing the bouquet and the note onto the table. “She doesn’t have that much class. Flowers? Really? She’d never dare.”

Mingi started to sweat nervously. “Well...” he stuttered. “They were left outside the door, and it’s her handwriting, so it’s gotta be her. Right..?”

San shrugged. “Someone coulda forged it,” he said. “Don’t know who, though.”

Mingi tried to laugh it off. “Why would anyone do that, though?” 

“Fun?” he suggested. “I don’t know—but it’s just weird. It feels really sudden and forced.” 

He sighed internally. There was really only one way he was going to get San there. “Let’s make a bet,” he said. 

He looked intrigued. “Oh?” 

“If she’s there, you have to do my homework. If she’s not and it’s a prank, I’ll do yours.” He hoped that would be enough to entice him. 

It took a beat or two and couple thoughtful hums, but finally, he agreed. “Fine,” San said. He smiled and started slipping on his shoes and jacket. “We’ll see how this goes.”

+++

“San wrote this?” she snorted. She held up the note. “This?”

Wooyoung chuckled, a little unsure. “Yes?” he said. He didn’t mean for it to sound so much like a question, but his heart was racing now. What did they get wrong? 

“Do you think it’s a fake?” he asked, trying to sound as genuinely curious as possible. 

She tilted her head a little. “I’m not really sure,” she said, giving him some relief. “It just seems so...” She searched for the right word. “Tender.”

Wooyoung wanted to bang his head against the wall. He knew he shouldn’t have let Yunho write the fake note!

“Maybe he’s drunk,” she wondered out loud.

He stepped towards her, taking the note and the flowers and discarding them somewhere unimportant. “Or maybe,” he suggested, “he’s actually a nice guy.” 

She gave him a skeptical look. “I don’t know, Youngie...” 

“Just meet with him,” he said, giving her a smile. He mussed up her hair. “If he really wants to apologize, let him apologize.” 

She nodded and flattened her hair back out. “All right,” she said quietly. “I’ll meet him.” Wooyoung almost started a victory dance, but he stopped himself. “I just don’t know if I can apologize to him...” she said. “Does that make me a bad person?” 

He shook his head. “Of course not,” he said. “It makes you someone whose trust has to be earned. You don’t just toss it around thoughtlessly.” He leaned forward, a devilish gleam in his eyes. “Make him beg for your forgiveness, girl.” 

She snorted and pushed him away. “You’re so weird!” she laughed. 

He flashed her a playful wink. “You know it,” he said. “Now, go. He might be waiting for you.” 

+++

San showed up about the same time she did. They were both shocked by the rose petal-covered ground, the full picnic laid out and the overall romantic vibe. 

They were both ready to run away, but for whatever reason, they didn’t. They just gave each other confused looks and walked cautiously forward. 

“You called me out here on a date?” they asked at the same time. Both of their eyes widened. 

She shook her head. “No, you called me,” she said. 

“You called me!” San insisted, pulling the folded up note out of his pocket. “You sent flowers.” 

Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “I’d never send you flowers,” she said. She pulled his note out of her back pocket. “You wrote me this.” 

He scanned over the note. “I’d never write something that cheesy,” he said. 

She nodded. “See, that’s what I said! I knew that Wooyoung was—” They both froze. “Hey... Did one of the guys give you the letter?” 

It slowly dawned on him. “Mingi, yeah. And you—?”

“Wooyoung,” she said. 

They both groaned after a moment, “Choi Jongho!” There was something so comedic about it, they couldn’t help but laugh, both doubling over into a pile of giggly messes. 

She finally sat up, a few stray tears on her cheeks. She wiped them away, still chuckling. “So,” she started, “I guess we’re still enemies, huh?” 

San shrugged. “I guess,” he said. He looked over at the picnic. “But yo, there’s food. Wanna eat?” 

She raised a brow. “You’re being shockingly kind.” 

“It’s no fun being a jerk to you if no one’s here to see it,” he said. 

She smirked a little. “So you admit your a jerk.” 

He rolled her eyes. “Are you gonna accept the invitation or not?” he asked. 

She thought for a moment. “You know, normally I’d say no, but I’m really freakin’ hungry right now, so yes.” 

They made their way over to the nicely laid out picnic blanket, complete with scented candles set delicately in the grass. 

“How much you wanna bet that was Yunho’s idea,” San said. 

She nodded, grabbing a bowl of fruit from inside the wicker basket. “Or Mingi,” she suggested. “He can be shockingly romantic.” 

He pouted a little. “How would you know that?” he asked.

She plopped a blueberry in her mouth. “We dated briefly in junior year.” 

He choked on the Cola he’d started drinking. “You did what?” he coughed. 

She couldn’t hold in her laugh. “Dude, I was kidding!” she cackled. “You know? A joke?” 

He sighed, completely relieved. “Not funny!” he whined. 

“Why?” she chuckled. “Why’s it not funny? You’re always talking about the girls you hook up.” 

He propped himself up against the wall of the fountain, pulling mindlessly at the grass in between his fingers. “As you say,” he began, “those stories are clearly lies.” 

She nodded understandingly. “Okay,” she said. “No big. I mean, I called it, but no big.” She grabbed out a sandwich, handing the other to San. Seonghwa most definitely packed this. 

“I can understand you lying to the guys about it so that you’d get more street cred, but why me?” she asked, letting her curiosity flow. For once, she didn’t feel so up-in-arms with him. Maybe it was the chill atmosphere, but it was just... normal between them. 

It was a nice feeling. 

San was glad that she wasn’t looking at him, or she might’ve seen the flush on his cheeks. He wasn’t even fully aware of the redness himself, but judging by how hot he suddenly felt, he assumed it was there. “I don’t know,” he said softly. “I guess I was just trying to seem cool.” 

“Being a man-whore doesn’t make you cool,” she said bluntly. She handed him some water melon from the fruit bowl. “It makes you a man-whore.” 

He chuckled and took a bite of the melon. “Point taken,” he said. 

“Why’d you wanna seem cool to me?” she wondered out loud. 

He shrugged. “You were pretty, I guess.” 

She froze. “I was pretty?” she asked, 

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You were pretty.” 

She let out a single laugh, breathy and disbelieving. “That’s...” She was at a loss for words. She picked at a loose string on her jeans. “I didn’t know you thought that.” 

He cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting his sitting position. “Well... Now you do,” he said. 

She chuckled. “Guess so.” She tugged the string off and shoved it in her pocket. “For the record, I thought you were handsome,” she said quickly. 

He looked shocked. “You never tried anything with me, though,” he said. 

She shrugged. “I figured that if you liked me, you’d like me without me trying too hard.” She gave a bittersweet smile. “But you kinda ended up hating me.” 

He frowned. “I don’t hate you,” he said quietly. 

“You act like it,” she said. 

He took another bite of melon. “Well, I don’t,” he said simply. “I was just...”

She quirked a brow. “Just what?” 

“I don’t know, really,” he admitted. “I guess I was crushing on you a little bit in the beginning, and then after we knew each other for a while, you didn’t seem interested in me, so instead, I decided to be a jerk so it wouldn’t hurt so much.” 

Her eyes widened. That’s exactly what she’d done. It was hard for her to see someone that she liked almost every day, but live with the knowledge that he only saw her as a friend. So instead, she’d rather be enemies. “One extreme to the other?” she asked.

“Just like that,” he said, sending her finger guns. 

She groaned, smacking her forehead. “Crap, the guys were right!”

He tilted his head in confusion. “About?”

“Us!” She threw a grape in frustration, making him laugh. “We like each other so much that we wanna kill each other.”

He took a deep breath gathering his thoughts. He couldn’t really stop the smile creeping up his cheeks. “Well, for the record...” He reached over and grabbed her hand before she could toss another innocent fruit. “I don’t wanna kill you right now.” 

She froze for a moment before answering. “You know what?” She squeezed his hand back. “I don’t wanna kill you either.” 

If only they knew that the others had been hiding behind various trees and bushes, filming the whole thing. Jongho was positive that this would go viral on YouTube. 

.

.

.

Y'know, I’m really soft and whipped for San, but I’m also ready to fight him at any given moment, sooooo... Take that as you will. 

I hope you enjoyed it, @shizziebo! Sorry it took a while. ^-^ Hope it met expectations! Or maybe... Heaven forbid, exceeded them?

[fangirlingtodeath513]

read here on ao3

warnings: needles, blood drinking, click here for more info about those

Dean feels like he’s just fallen asleep when Sam kicks him awake and shoves a laptop in his face.

“Dude, check this out. People are going missing in Poughkeepsie, New York. Eight in the past six days.”

Bleary-eyed and staring up at Sam, he tries to take a second to process the words that just came out of his brother’s mouth. It’s too early in the morning, and it’s been too long since he’s gotten a good night’s sleep. Frowning, he sits up and runs a hand through his hair, sighing. “Fine, but I’m showering first.”

“Awesome, I’ll drive.”

“You will not!” Dean shouts over his shoulder as he steps into the bathroom. “I just fixed her, you can keep your grubby hands off, thank you very much.” He shuts the door, rushing through a shower. Ten minutes later, teeth brushed and dressed in clothes that at least smell clean, he steps into the room and lets Sam have the bathroom. Their bags get tossed in the trunk and Dean sits in the car, leg bouncing while he waits for Sam.

They’re on the road fifteen minutes later. Dean swings by a coffee shop and treats himself to a donut, munching on it as he drives. It’s a long way to Poughkeepsie, and he’s gotta do something to keep himself awake.

They pull into town late at night, so he heads for the first motel he sees. It’s a slightly more upscale one than they normally stay in, but it’s the same price, and neither he nor Sam are gonna complain about nicer digs. Sam gets a room while Dean drags their bags out of the trunk. Bags end up on the chairs surrounding the tiny table under the window, and both Sam and Dean collapse on the bed for the night.

Dean wakes up to Sam shuffling papers around on the table and cursing. As much as he’d like to roll over and go back to sleep, they’ve got a case to work on. “What’s up, Sammy?”

Sam sighs and Dean can almost hear the eye roll. “None of these victims have anything in common. I’ve been pouring over their informations for a couple hours now, and there’s nothing.”

“There’s gotta be somethin’,” Dean replies with a frown. “Or we’re dealing with a monster that doesn’t give a shit who their victim is. Maybe we just have to find out how they came in contact with said monster.”

Sam turns to glare at him. “What exactly do you think I’ve been doing all morning, Dean?”

Dean raises his eyebrows, putting his hands up. “Jeez, man, chill out. Why don’t you go get us some breakfast and I’ll look it over with a fresh pair of eyes?”

Sam rips his jacket off the back of his chair and storms from the room. Dean watches him with raised eyebrows, pushing himself out of bed and over the the table.

It’s… a lot of research. With a sigh and lamenting the fact that he doesn’t have coffee for this, he digs in.

By the time Sam gets back, he’s nearly halfway through, and he simply holds a finger up to Sam while he finishes the page he’s on. A coffee and pastry are plopped in front of him and Dean is eternally grateful for his little brother.

“Alright, so you’re right, they don’t have anything in common. More than likely, we’re dealing with something that has no preference what it kills and possibly eats. Did you get autopsy reports?”

Sam sighs and nods. “Drained of blood. I was kinda thinking we might have a pack of vamps, but there were only needle punctures on the victim’s arms, and all of them had given blood recently.”

“Whoa, hang on, they’d all donated blood?”

Shaking his head, Sam shuffles through some of the papers and sets a few in front of Dean. “Most had, yeah, but three of them had to give blood for a doctor’s check-up. They all went to different places and had their blood drawn by different people, though, so nothing there adds up.”

Dean deflates with a frown. “Huh. Guess we’d better ask around town then, see if anyone’s seen anything weird lately.”

One long day of talking to locals behind them, and they’ve still got nothing. Every single person they’d talked to was tight-lipped about what was going on in town, and the one person they’d managed to talk to that wasn’t had only pointed them to an old warehouse that’s been deserted for decades.

“Great,” Dean mutters, kicking a rock across the similarly-deserted parking lot of said warehouse. “Now we get to stake out a crumbling warehouse in the hopes that somethin’s gonna go bump in the night, and we both know damn well nothing will.”

Sam rolls his eyes at him, grabbing his gun. “I’m gonna go check the outside of the building, see if I can find something. You coming, or are you gonna stay here and bitch?”

Dean scoffs, grabbing his own gun and barely resisting stomping his feet like the toddler he feels like at the moment. “Fine, let’s get this over with.”

They split up when they get to the building, Sam heading around the left while Dean takes the right. They meet up in the back, straddling overgrown weeds and garbage with matching looks of disgust.

“Anything?” Sam whispers, sighing when Dean shakes his head. “Me either. Back to the car, then.”

“Good morning, Dean,” a husky voice purrs against his neck. There’s a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin below his ear that has Dean shivering and snuggling back against the person behind him. A person much more solid than he was expecting. Tensing, he shifts to face the person behind him. “You okay, babe?”

Dean looks the guy over, just a little off-kilter. “Uh, yeah, just… a weird dream, I guess. Morning.”

The guy leans in for a kiss, and Dean really can’t think of a reason not to, so he lets his eyes slip shut as soft, plush lips meet his. The hint of scruff rubbing against his own is delicious and has a heat building low in Dean’s belly in moments. He’s still a little uneasy from his dream, so he pulls back from the kiss with a soft smile. “Breakfast?”

The guy—god, he really wishes he could remember his name—smiles at him and stretches, all lean muscle and soft skin brushing against Dean’s side. Eventually, after a few more languid kisses, they push themselves out of bed and head to the kitchen.

“James,” Dean mutters under his breath, letting out a relieved sigh when he finally remembers his boyfriend’s name. Apparently it’s gonna be that kind of a morning.

“Eggs and bacon okay? I’ll make them if you make the coffee.”

Dean grins. “Hell yeah, man, your breakfasts are the best.” He presses a kiss to the back of James’ neck before he turns to get the coffee started.

Soon enough, the smell of coffee and bacon fills the kitchen, and Dean honestly couldn’t think of a better morning if he tried. He finishes setting the coffee up well before James is done, so he leans against the counter with his arms crossed over his bare chest and admires his boyfriend as he cooks. He’s beautiful. Bed-ruffled brown hair, chocolatey-brown eyes and a dusting of hair just above his boxers that has Dean wishing he could see more.

“I’m almost done, I swear,” James says with a laugh, smirking when she sees the confusion on Dean’s face. “You look like you wanna eat me.”

At that, Dean smirks back. “Maybe after breakfast. Gotta have something to look forward to, right?”

Dean doesn’t miss the dilated pupils just before James turns his attention back to the food and now he’s more than a little excited for what happens after breakfast.

Dean gets home from work three days later to find Sam sitting in his living room. Frowning, Dean sets his bag on the floor and kicks his shoes off. “Look, just cause I gave you a key doesn’t mean you can just hang out when you’re bored.”

“Dean,” Sam gasps, springing off the couch. “Wow, I didn’t think that would work. Listen, this isn’t real, okay? A bunch of djinn ambushed us.”

Dean frowns. “A bunch of… what? You been drinkin’, Sammy?”

“Dude, no, come on. You have to remember. We were checking out a case in Poughkeepsie and we went to stake out this old, decrepit warehouse one of the locals told us about.”

Raising an eyebrow, Dean shakes his head. “You okay, man? You hit your head or something? Spare bedroom’s made up if you wanna go lay down.”

Sam lets out a frustrated groan, running a hand through his hair. “We were at the warehouse, we checked the outside of the building, and then a couple of them jumped down on us and attacked us. By the time I got the one off me, you were already gone.”

“Dude, seriously, did you take something? I don’t really want your drugged-up ass here when—”

“Babe? You home yet?”

Dean flinches when he hears his boyfriend’s voice. Sam gapes at him as James rounds the corner and stops in his tracks.

“Oh, uh, I didn’t realize… Right, I’ll just head upstairs, I guess.” His fingers brush the small of Dean’s back as he passes, out of Sam’s line of sight. When he’s upstairs and out of sight, Sam turns a confused glance Dean’s way.

“I didn’t know you were into dudes.” Sam frowns, head tilting to his right after a moment. “Actually, no, that explains a lot.” Shaking his head, Sam sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Right, whatever, not the problem here. This isn’t real, Dean. You’re in a dream world. He’s not real. You’ve gotta wake up or you’ll die in here.”

Right, well, so much for explaining himself. Rolling his eyes, he sits on the couch and puts his feet up on the coffee table. “Seriously, man, whatever you’re on, I don’t want any part of it.”

Sam glares at him. “I’m not messing around here, Dean. Wake up!”

Maybe Sam’s right. He doesn’t really remember anything before waking up in bed with James a few days ago, which is weird. He’s not really sure what a djinn is, but Sam seems to know what he’s talking about. Maybe this is all fake.

Suddenly everything goes blurry. He can’t see Sam anymore, and it feels like his apartment drops out from under him. He thinks he yells out something, but he can’t hear it.

“Dean. Dean!”

Blinking wearily, his eyes focus to find Sam standing in front of him, pure terror on his face. He only has a second of confusion before everything comes flooding back—the warehouse, the djinn attacking them, Dean getting dragged away despite his best efforts to the contrary and being strung up and bled. Frowning, he glances up and spots the needle in his arm, still draining him of his blood. Sam’s hands reach up, but they go right past the needle and cut the rope holding Dean’s arms in the air. All the sudden weight on his legs makes him stumble, but Sam catches him and hands him a rag after he pulls the needle out.

“We gotta go, there’s way too many of them. I saw six that attacked us, and at least two more inside. We can’t do this on our own.”

Dean can’t really walk, so one arm gets flung over Sam’s shoulders and he’s basically dragged back to the car. Sam deposits him in the back seat and out the back window as they drive away, he can see ten dark figures in the shadows of the buildings.

It takes Dean about two weeks to regain his strength after their djinn encounter. They’re far away from Poughkeepsie at that point, but they’d gotten confirmation a week ago that the entire nest of djinn was taken care of, thanks to a few of Bobby’s hunter friends.

“It’d make a good code word,” Sam says over breakfast one morning, a slight smirk on his face.

Dean raises an eyebrow at him, more than a little confused. Most of his attention is focused on their current case, some weird deaths at a soon-to-be-closed inn.

“Poughkeepsie,” Sam explains, like that’ll actually let Dean figure out what the hell he’s talking about.

“Code word for what?”

Sam snorts. “Drop everything and run? It’s literally what we did.”

Dean frowns, but nods after a moment. “Yeah, probably should have one for somethin’ like that. Works for me.”

Sam nods and turns back to his research, but Dean can tell he’s not finished. Sure enough, less than a minute later, Sam nonchalantly says, “so are we going to talk about your djinn dream?”

“No,” Dean replies sharply, glaring at Sam over the top of his laptop. “We absolutely are not, don’t even bring it up again. How’d you even get in my dream, anyway?”

Sam shrugs, poorly hiding the smirk on his face. “Read something about how ingesting the djinn poison with some of a victim’s blood will put you in the same world. Figured it was worth a shot.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. “Dude, ew, you drank my blood?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “It was, like, two drops. Would you prefer I let you die?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Dean mutters, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t, so now you can tell me all about your dream boyfriend,” Sam replies with a choked-off laugh, covering his mouth to hide his grin.

“Yep, definitely rather be dead.”

[drabbles-and-shit]

Window Seat

Castiel groaned in dismay as he surveyed the public transit that was about to deliver him to the most important interview of his adult life. Of course, today of all days, his car was in the shop. Today, the day he needed to make the best first impression possible. He NEEDED today to go perfectly, and it was already off to a bad start. He sighed as he grabbed his suitcase, gathered his resolve, and climbed into the ratty city bus. He took the first open seat available and grimaced as he sat down, knowing any number of disgusting substances could be transferring from the grimy seat to his freshly-cleaned suit.

He quietly hummed to himself as the bus filled up, and he absent-mindedly noticed another passenger had claimed the seat directly behind him. Mostly he was worrying about the interview, though. It needed to go well. REALLY well. His whole career--hell, his whole life was riding on it.

Only a couple minutes after Castiel had boarded, the bus doors slammed shut, and the sputtering of the diesel engine kicking into action and shoving the rickety bus into motion. Almost immediately, Castiel felt a breeze hitting his face. Under normal circumstances, a breeze would be fine, but it was not a normal day. His hair. His precious, carefully-styled hair was getting blown around haphazardly by the wind. It was being ruined! He scanned the bus for open windows, but it looked like the main source of aerial disturbance was simply from the window located directly above his own seat. He sighed in relief to see it would be easy to fix the problem, reached up, and deftly slid the window closed. Crisis averted.

Or not.

Castiel's peripheral vision was suddenly disturbed by, upon closer inspection (slight turning of the head and moving of the eyes), what could only be described as the hand of Satan himself.

Okay, maybe that was a little melodramatic, but still, Castiel was moderately disturbed by the hand and more disturbed by the fact that it was moving to open up the window he had just shut.

'What the...?' Castiel didn't want to call the guy out. He probably didn't even notice that Castiel had closed it in the first place. It was probably all just a misunderstanding. Yeah, of course. So, like a normal human, Castiel reached back up and carefully slid the window back shut again.

And the Hand was back, opening the window, letting in all the stupid wind. Again. Castiel furrowed his brow, not necessarily angry, but pretty miffed. He obviously didn't want the window open, so what the problem of the guy behind him? It wasn't like it was even the window above that guy's seat; it was the window above Castiel, and he was full rights regarding the overt nature of said window. Or at least, he hoped he did. Maybe he shouldn't take it to court, just to be safe.

And yet, the Hand came back, and if it was possible to read body language off of a single hand, then Castiel was positive the man behind him was getting just as miffed as he was about the whole window situation.

'Well, it serves him right; his future doesn't depend on this window being closed...' Castiel thought to himself as his slammed the window back shut, this time keeping his hand pressed firmly to the glass to keep it closed. When the Hand came back that time, he was prepared, and he fought back against the actually ridiculously strong force pushing the window towards the open position. He put up the best fight he could, but eventually, the Hand won out, and the window slid wide open to let the air flow yet again.

Castiel rubbed his eyes. This was not what he needed today. But he wouldn't give up. Having that window shut was his God-given right, and he was damned if he was going to let some random stranger take it away from him.

So he reached back up and closed it.

And the Hand opened it.

And he closed it.

And the Hand opened it.

After a couple more rounds, neither man was letting go of the glass, and every time one pushed, the other pushed back twice as hard. The battle for window dominance had completely and utterly consumed Castiel's thoughts, and he had even forgotten about the interview. All he cared about was beating whoever the hell was sitting behind him and keeping that window shut. Hell, he didn't even care about his hair anymore. This was more than that now. So much more.

With a finality that quite literally shook the ground upon which Castiel was planted, the bus screeched to a halt, and the jarring motion brought Castiel out of his window-centric trance and back into his anxiety and frustration-filled reality.

He couldn't help it--he had to confront the Hand. Well, the Man behind the Hand. Whatever.

So, he whirled around in his seat and immediately caught his tormenter's eyes. What surprised him, other than the extreme (very extreme) attractiveness of the man, was that his own annoyance was mirrored in the man's face. This was puzzling, because Castiel had kind of been working under the impression that the man didn't actually give two shits about whether or not the window was open or closed but was just relishing the torture that he had been putting Castiel through.

He didn't get a chance to voice his confusion, because the man spoke first. "Dude, what the hell was that?!"

"I could ask you the same thing!" he crossed his arms across his chest and scowled at the man.

"Why the hell did you keep closing the window? I mean, what the hell even is your problem??"

"Why did YOU keep opening it?! I needed that damn window closed, but nooooo, you just had to torment me this entire stupid bus ride by opening it, just to annoy me!" Castiel gathered by the man's incredulous look that maybe, just maybe, the man hadn't actually been doing that because of a personal pranking vendetta.

His suspicions were confirmed when the man yelled back, "You moron, I couldn't give a shit about you and your hate for open windows--I need the window open in a moving vehicle or I WILL throw up all over the damn place, and my window isn't broken, so maybe get your head out of your ass for a second??"

Castiel bristled. Okay, so yes, the man had had valid reasons for wanting the window open, but so had Castiel for wanting it closed! Very valid! "A little vomit is okay with me if it means I look okay for the most important job interview ever! Yes, you're not the only person in the world with problems! I need to go right now, or I'm going to end up working in fast food till I die, so excuse me if I don't feel pity for the man whose nausea may have just lost me the job opportunity of a lifetime!” Cas was gripped with sudden weariness and despair, and his legs gave out from beneath him, causing him to drop painfully back into his seat.

A moment of terse silence later, the man situated himself suddenly and forcibly in front of Castiel's face and fixed him with the look of a confused cat that just watch the red dot disappear and is wondering where the hell its prey went. Castiel just sighed and looked away, but his eyes were brought back when the man spoke again, quietly this time.

"Wait, so you're angry because you're afraid a little messy hair is going to ruin your interview chances?"

"Uh, duh. I need to look professional and my best, so yeah." Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Wow, you're a complete idiot..." Castiel glared daggers at the man, his seemingly innocent insult not slightly helping his hideous mood.

"Thanks, asshole."

"No, I mean, you're the most handsome man I've seen in my entire life other than whenever I look in the mirror. And dude, I saw your 'professional' hair when I got onto the bus; believe me when I say it looks better a little messy."

Castiel let his confusion show on his face. "Just a second ago you were furious at me; now you're flirting with me? Why does it feel like a complete stranger carefully planned the perfect way to ruin my day...?"

"Oh, sorry if that was coming on too strong; I get it if you're not into guys. Mostly I just think it's incredibly stupid that you're going to let something like this 'ruin your life,' or whatever you said. You look great, and I'm sorry I 'messed up' your hair, even though it definitely makes you look hotter this way. So yeah, don't let your career be flushed by this, man. Go own that interview. If you don't, I'll throw up on you."

Something about the sudden sincerity of the man immediately cheered Castiel up. His smile was like the first rays of sun in the morning, warming the day and coloring the once-dark earth.

It took very little deliberation for Castiel to resolve to follow the man's advice and go to his interview. His words had breathed life back into Castiel's weary soul. He grabbed his suitcase and was about to run out of the bus when he stopped dead in his tracks at the man's voice calling out to him again.

"Wait! I didn't catch your name?"

"It's Castiel; my name is Castiel."

"Nice to meet you, Cas. My name's Dean."

Read on AO3 here

[angelicmemo]

Listen okay I need to talk through some shit that has scarred me emotionally so like I’m sorry but I need to let this out somewhere.

Okay so Number One- internalised homophobia

now I didn’t used to consider this a big issue for me and on the romantic side it still like I love girls I know I love girls I accept I love girls and I honestly love that I love girls however more and more over the past few years I have been feeling ashamed for being Sexually attracted to women. Romantically I’m fine but when it comes to the Sexual part of sexuality it’s something I want but hate that I want. Like being sexual is something I’m not allowed which is dirty and shameful and I know that that’s wrong and I would never apply that standard to anyone else but within me any sexual attraction towards women I just push down and refuse to agknowledge out of fear of coming across as predatory meaning I instead come across as naïve or ‘innocent’ and I am treated by others as a joke or as not a real lesbian. This is even the case around other lesbians I know irl- because I’m not comfortable enough to express my sexual attraction to women out of fear and shame other lesbians treat me like a child and as if those feelings don’t exist. Like newsflash fuckers I love women they’re soft and sweet and smell nice.

See? See what I did there? None of the comments that were made about me loving women in a sexual manner were actually sexual like that is how big of a barrier has been put between me and expressing my Sexual love for women (like I said no issue with the soppy romantic stuff akdbdkfbfkg)- I see other lesbians talking about how hot and sexy girls are and all the sexual things that are beautiful and normal and natural that I relate to so much and want but I can’t bring myself to recognise that because I’m too ashamed of it. Like this is getting super personal and kinda tmi but I don’t even masturbate naked I keep my clothes on because it feels as if if my clothes are on then it’s something that I’ll never have to physically agknowledge.

I believe a lot of this shame was inherent within my growing up in a single parent household- my mum wasn’t getting any and was super uncomfortable around sex and the notion that it could be something anyone would want (i highkey think she’s asexual and just doesn’t know the terminology or that how she feels is not how everyone else feels but that’s a conversation for another day). So that means that I grew up being the naïve innocent person I am still assumed to be and letting go of that once I figured out my own sexuality and sexual desires is something I’m still not done with- like I’m out to my Mum but I tried calling a girl hot once and she was there and she just looked at me and was like ‘that’s disgusting why would you think that’ ‘because I’m a lesbian??’ ‘Well that’s fine but don’t think that’ like dude do you not know how being a lesbian works??? Sorry sorry a little off topic I know but still relevant to me as hello slut shaming the second I even vaguely agknowledge being attracted to girls.

To make matters even more complicated there was a girl and she was the first girl I ever truely fell in love with and she was the first girl I felt sexually towards and at first that was fine!! Great!! Especially because at that time I was still closeted to my mum and therefore she hadn’t addressed sexuality with me at this point. However the girl was someone who was extremely uncomfortable with physical contact which is all well and good but the way she went about it made it seem to my anxiety ridden depressed brain that it was me that was the problem. It wasn’t that she hated the touch of anyone it was that she didn’t want me sitting too close to her or doing her makeup or holding her hand like it was specifically the fact that it was me putting her off (untrue but what my brain was telling me) leading me to affirm that I was disgusting (as my mental illnesses had already told me) but this time in manner relating to my sexuality therefore associating that feeling of shame and wrongfulness for wanting to be close to and touch or have any form of physical contact with other girls with hate and shame and me making people uncomfortable.

I honestly think that if I had had someone, like just one person in my life, who would let me touch them even in explicitly nonsexual ways then I wouldn’t feel this shame I do or have my intense fear of being seen as predatory causing me countless panic attacks over the tiniest of things like my knee accidently brushing against someone whilst I’m sitting down or accidently touching a girls hand when picking something up.

I am 17 years old and I still haven’t been kissed- the last time I was in physical contact with a girl who wasn’t my mother was over a year ago despite the fact that physical contact of any form is something I crave. I see other lesbians I know being all happy and snuggly and together and at the same time being able to embrace the sexuality of their relationship (seriously so many strap on jokes I like died) and am just hit with this wave of want like I want that life so badly but not only do I feel as if I don’t deserve it and that no one would ever want to be near me or touch me but that by wanting this I am being inherently predatory.

It’s not so bad over the internet- the one relationship I’ve had has been extremely long distance so like I didn’t have to worry about accidently knocking into her or accidently touching her in a way she wouldn’t want - it was so much easier to feel validated in my own lesbianism and my relationship if I didn’t have this massive cloud of anxiety surrounding unwanted physical contact hovering over my heart at all times but it was also lonely. I need to be touched and held I need physical contact but at the same time I’m terrified of it on behalf of the other person.

I’m fine around boys though. I have friends who are boys who I snuggle up to or hug or hold their hands to drag them places and I don’t feel that shame because there isn’t that inherent feeling of I’m doing this because I’m Gay and they DONT want it even when that isn’t the case. I have friends who are girls who I’m not attracted to in the slightest but I’m still scared to touch in case this is the reaction I get of disgust. With guys I’m not attracted to any of them so it’s so much easier to be openly affectionate because both they and I know it is and always will be purely platonic- I think that’s the same reason there are so many boys on my blog like I’m not attracted to them and have no capacity to be attracted to them so I can just love them in peace without this feeling of I’m Wrong pooling in my stomach

At this point I don’t even know if this is making sense but TLDR I just want to be able to be around girls without being terrified in case I accidentally touch them and they/I believe me to be predatory because of it even if there is no sexuality behind the actions.

Also my first Love fucked me up big time mentally possibly causing repercussions that could last a lifetime.

[sfw-haikyuu-nsfw]

Letting Go

This is kinda all over the place, sorry about that. There’s no specific timeline, each piece jumps in at various times throughout the relationship. And some are mundane but also important to the type of relationship we had, while others are bigger moments.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy.

This is one of my first steps in putting it all behind me and trying to press forward.

They were in a nightmare.

There was no other explanation with the sudden and abrupt disjointing of their entire life.

Something had felt off all day; that Thursday. It began with excitement though, the birth of a child was to happen just hours later. The mother checked in at eight that morning. And the birth of that small, precious girl was supposed to be the focus of the day; that happy day.

But then Oikawa called, their hands full of paint as they answered. Maybe it was the tone of his voice or maybe it was the anxiety attacking again, but the air around them changed. A constricting band around their heart that wasn’t connected to any valid reason.

Everything was perfect; they had just told their mother so two days prior.

They wished someone had told them that it was otherwise. Apparently had been for nearly a month with their oblivious smile living blissfully through it all.

It was surreal to watch his car drive away, the remnants of an embrace that wasn’t tight enough and the lingering touch of his lips to the corner of their own. Left only with a note. His way of making up for whatever words he couldn’t force out in the moment.

You have been absolutely wonderful to me and it tears me apart to know I caused you so much pain, because you don’t deserve that.

Then stay; the answer seemed so easy to them. He should’ve stayed to prevent the very pain he caused.

I had to take a hard and honest look at myself and where I am emotionally and I realized that as much as I care about you, my heart is not in the same place.

And why realize that now?

Legs gave out beneath them, that paper clenched in their trembling hands and the grass scratched against their skin. Numb; everything around them felt like a numb abyss that opened underneath them.

You have been my best friend and are truly one of the most beautiful souls I have ever encountered and I am so grateful I met you.

And although I know this means I may lose our friendship and you may never want to talk to me again, I want you to know that if you ever need anything I will always be there for you.

You will always be a part of my soul.

Love, Oikawa

Yes, that extraordinary baby girl was born into a crumbling world.

Loud, pulsing, reverberating.

One could get lost in the crowd, lost in the music.

Bodies were too close, the air was too warm. But everyone moved in sync, their hearts beating in unison and their hands all reaching towards the same sky.

They only had one goal: to lose themselves within it all. To forget who they were for just a moment and be the person they always dreamed of being.

A touch - warm and soft - to their shoulder brought their gaze away from the dancing lights at the front. Eyes locked with milk chocolate ones, a smile accompanying them. He was beautiful - they noted instantly - within those flashing lights and they smile they returned was rightfully earned.

He was leaning forward, his lips touching lightly at their ear before he was speaking, voice working at being louder than the speakers around them.

“You’re insanely pretty,” the words were simple, effective, “can I give you a bracelet?”

Ah, the bracelets. Only that morning they had discovered the meaning and culture behind the very objects that covered his arms. The simple things sparking a contest between them and the two friends - Bokuto and Kuroo - they brought along with them. Who could obtain the most before the night was up, this was an immediate jackpop for them.

Smiles grew as they nodded, their hands rising to perform the simple ritual before their fingers laced for the trade. Touches traveled from their hand along their arm as he situated the bracelet in place, his gaze completely the journey along their skin until he was meeting with their eyes again.

It was their turn to lean, his hand ghosting above their waist. “Dance with me,” it was bold, a command they would never have given in a previous life. One that pays off when his hands find their hips. One that more than pays off when their bodies are too close for complete strangers. One that they would never regret when they find their mouth slotting together with his.

They lost themselves in that night, in the arms of that stranger by the name of Oikawa, in everything that would come from that single chance meeting.

“It just doesn’t make any sense,” they found themselves mumbling again. Surely both boys were tired of hearing the comment. It was all they could say, though, without diving too deep into the underlying meanings, without breaking down again.

Bokuto’s fingers gently dug into their hair, carefully pressing into their scalp before dragging them through the strands. “Whether it makes sense or not, the dude’s a dick.”

A foot nudged against theirs and they raised their legs to allow Kuroo his place on the couch before dropping them across his lap. “Yeah, I mean, talk about a slap in the face,” he added, handing them the glass of red wine they had asked for.

“Feels more like a sledgehammer to the stomach,” they revised before taking a long drink.

There was nowhere for them to rip the reasons apart. Perhaps they were just as Oikawa said: he couldn’t emotionally provide the future he felt they deserved. But it didn’t feel right, didn’t feel complete.

Laying their head back down to Bokuto’s lap, they let out a heavy breath, finding comfort in the presence of her two best friends.

“Ya know, my brother is still single,” Kuroo teased, earning a laugh and a nudge to his stomach. It definitely helped to laugh.

A kiss. A press of warm hands to bare skin. A voice.

“Morning,” Oikawa whispered, his mouth to their shoulder, his arms pulling them back against his chest, “we have to get up.”

“You have to get up,” they countered, body folding into the warmth his provided. It was still dark, a fact that felt disgusting in just knowing it. “It’s too early,” they complained, shifting until they were facing him to shove their face against his chest and feel his fingers dig into their hair.

“You’re the one that wanted to come to work with me,” it was true. But the idea had sounded more appealing the night before. ‘Seizing the opportunity’ they had claimed when they suggested it. They spent so little time together as it was, they couldn’t pass up the opportunities given whenever possible.

“Skip work,” they breathed him in, body relaxing into him, “money is the devil anyway.”

Oikawa huffed a laugh, but didn’t fight it, his own body easing back into slumber. “Just a bit longer.”

And it would only be that bit before he was coaxing them from the blankets. The air cold in the early spring. Their body sought the heat he offered as they trudged to the bathroom together, a comment of ‘fix your windows’ leaving them as he started the water to the shower.

It was warm and his wet skin was comforting against their own. Head resting against his shoulder as they allowed the water spray to arouse their consciousness, their fingers dipping into the muscles of his back. He hummed, a sound that was surprisingly rare as he leaned into the touch.

“Thank you,” he breathed and they knew he didn’t just mean for that morning.

They stared at the screen of the computer. Their eyes taking in the detailed lines of the logo before them. Oikawa sat with them on his lap, waiting for their response. The logo was his own, one that would represent who he was as a designer. And he cared about their opinion, wanted them to critique it for him.

And while they might not have been the right one for the job, they took it seriously. Working hard to remember every conversation they had ever had about the art of graphic design, every complaint he had ever had about any other piece he’d shone them.

“I like the fingerprint,” they finally said, “it brings a personal touch to it without completely breaking away from the professionalism.” And while no one else would know, it was his own print incorporated into the design. “And it is round for a reason? Does the seventeen represent what year it was made?”

“No,” there was a slight hesitation as he spoke, considering, “making it round was just for aesthetic appeal. But I might try something square just to see. And I kinda threw the number in to balance it. Didn’t think anyone would question it.”

“Well, I’m questioning,” they responded as they leaned back against his chest, his arms taking their place around their waist.

He laughed, his nose pressing into their shoulder as his gaze stared hard at the design. “Good, then I’ve taught you well.”

They could tease that he more forced the information on them. He was nearly inconsolable whenever they came across anything that was ill-designed. Hands would rise and he’d groan before asking ‘but why?’ Smiles were always their response, their own eyes taking in the image they would normally take for granted as he listed every possible way it could’ve been made better.

He was always trying to make things better.

Alcohol hummed through their veins, making their head light as they sprawled across the surface of his bed. They were giddy and tired, body sunburnt and salt clung to their hair. A shower sounded refreshing, but above that they wanted him.

“Come ‘ere,” they coaxed when he shut the bedroom door behind him, their arms reaching out to him. He obliged instantly, never one to keep them waiting for long, fitting himself perfectly above them. Fingers traced through his hair and down his back, clinging to the fabric of his shirt lightly.

Lips found theirs, lulling easily into the pattern they were both familiar with since the first day they met. Each time feeling like the bliss they were always meant to find.

“Oh,” his lips parted from theirs as his eyes searched for his phone, “I forgot to text Iwa-chan about tomorrow.”

“Again?” they laughed, hands clinging to him as long as possible before he was entirely out of their reach. Despite being one that always needed a plan, Oikawa proved again and again that he was terrible at actually making them.

Sitting at the edge of his bed, his gaze remained on his phone, only giving them a small nudge for the tease. They shifted and stared; his back hunched slightly as his head bent to watch his fingers move across the surface. And it didn’t take much convincing from their tipsy brain to wedge themselves in his lap, ignoring the small ‘babe’ of complaint as they settled themselves.

Desperate lips found his and their hands pulled at the back of his neck, holding him tight against him. “All you’d have to do is ask,” the words were spilling out before they had time to really think about them, “and I’d marry you tomorrow.” They couldn’t remember what conjured them - a conversation they had earlier that beach day, surely - but they couldn’t stop them; maybe they didn’t want to.

“Babe,” there was a lilt to his voice, one that they had a hard time placing in their slightly intoxicated state - maybe regret? “I’m not ready for that.”

“When you are,” it was an easy answer despite the tears that pricked at their eyes “whenever you are.”

First times moved quick for them, they were finding. It was exciting and terrifying all at once. They didn’t know how to properly respond when he was peeling their jeans from their hips, his gaze drinking in the flesh exposed. Many thing were clear to them when he threw the article to the floor and traveled back up the mattress to kiss them greedily.

One: date number two might be too soon to be jumping into this kind of relationship. This wasn’t usual for them and the closer it got, the more they felt the panic ebbing at their heart.

Two: it could all end tomorrow. They had only known him three weeks at most and they didn’t exactly have the ‘what are your intentions’ talk. For all they knew, this could be what he was investing his time in and that would be it.

Three: they wanted it so fucking bad.

Oikawa’s breath shuddered against their neck, their hands dragging along the expanse of his back. Lust crowded any rational thought beyond that. So when his voice broke through the thick air to ask, “Can I? Is it okay?” they didn’t hesitate with their consent.

A gasp, a groan, and hips rutting together. It was awkward and messy, they were two people discovering each other for the first time, but they had never thought the act could feel this was before.

And they knew, they knew right then that this wasn’t meant to end. Two pieces of the same soul had finally come together.

“Hey,” Oikawa’s voice was soft when he opened the door, eyes already red.

“Hi,” they hoped he heard it, cause they weren’t sure if they could make their voice any louder.

A silence, one that had never been present between them before. It felt strange, unnatural and tainted. They desperately wanted to break it, but they didn’t know how. Didn’t know if they could.

“Are you okay?” again soft and they suddenly became aware of the space that was between them. It was wrong, it shouldn’t be there, it had no right separating them.

Damn the promise to themselves of staying composed. They couldn’t, not when everything was so thinly on the line, not when this was the last time they would see his face. “No,” their voice shook, but they didn’t care, “I’m not okay.” Teary eyes met with his, their jaw clenched and their posture stiff. “Because what you did was unfair and out of fucking nowhere.”

“I know,” they didn’t want him to agree. They wanted him to break, to cry and beg for them to take him back. “I know it was.”

The two talked, never closing that damn space between them and shorter than they would’ve liked. Tears fell and hands grasped for something they couldn’t hold onto anymore. They had gone there knowing they couldn’t change anything; he was too stubborn for that. But they had hoped for some clarity and they walked away unsure they had obtained it.

Because when you loved someone weren’t you supposed to hold on to them?

Anniversaries. A fresh couple coming into their first was the purest celebration of love that they had ever known. Though they knew it was only the first year mark, they felt as though they had known him their entire life. It was a mystery how they had gotten on before he came along.

“Presents now or on the actual date?” Oikawa questioned, his head resting in their lap upon the floor of his bedroom, his hands idly tugging at the few cords that strayed across the carpet.

“I don’t care,” they answered, “it’s up to you.” Gifts were nice but not their focus that weekend. They wanted to head out, marvel in the festival that brought them together and make love long after it's over.

He pondered this for a moment before pushing himself to his feet. “Now, yours might melt.”

“What?”

A laugh, but no more answer than that was given as he made his way out of the room. They shuffled in his absence, hands grabbing for the rectangular box they had wrapped only that morning. The gift itself was cheesy, really. A poorly made paper mache box - each image if lights, owls, and galaxy stars all a reminder of him - with a speaker and T-shirt tucked away inside.

In some ways they wondered if it was too much. In others they wondered if it wasn’t enough.

His return was accompanied with a box of his own. This one a perfect cube with a lid that pops off and a thick paper sticking from the top. “You first,” he insists and their hands reach out for the owl printed item, “pull the top.”

The grin was irrepressible, their fingers tugging at the top to pull more of the paper free, text written across it white letters.

For all those times spent kissing you, And all those times that I couldn’t. For the precious times spent with you, And those times spent apart. For every smile I’ve experienced, And those times I had to go without. For every happy tear that was shed, And those that fell with sorrow. For every day I heard you laugh, And the days only memory could serve. This is for all the wonderful moments spent with you, And the moments still yet to come! Here is 365 days worth of kisses… In case I missed one.

Water swam in their eyes, their smile to wide to contain. They barely caught the guidance to pull as they took in the length of words. “Huh?” they asked when they brought their eyes up to him.

“Pull,” Oikawa laughed, tapping the top of the box.

Taking hold of the edges, they tugged upward, the top freeing the sides of the box which fell under the weight of the mass amount of Hershey kisses it contained. They gaped, a surprised laugh coming from their lips. “What…?”

“Kisses,” he chuckled along with them, “365 of them!”

“You counted?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I believe you,” they leaned across the space between them in order to bring their mouths together.

“There’s more,” he spoke once they parted, fingers pointing to the barely revealed red heart shape box at the center.

Pulling it free from the chocolate avalanche, they opened it, eyes falling on the glittering silver and green bracelet within. They cooed, finger dipping in to run along the edge of the precious metal, eyes quickly catching sight of the note in the center: I love you.

“Why’d you make me go first?” they were instantly complaining, pulling on the piece of jewelry in order to admire it against their skin, “mine gift is shit compared to yours!” They both laughed, lips finding each other again.

“Doubt it,” he answered, tugging the wrapped box towards him, “if it’s anywhere as pretty as you I’ve already won.”

That box never left his bedside table since that day.

“Can I ask you a question?” Nerves buzzed underneath their skin and they silently wondered if Oikawa could feel their heart pounding against the side of his chest. They could hear his, after all, beating beneath their ear of his chest. It was the steady bu-bum that they tried to follow.

“Of course.”

Here goes nothing. “What do you think about maybe moving in together after I graduate?” It was a dream they’ve had for a long time now, but waiting for him to suggest it was taking too long for their liking. To build a future, they had to move forward together, they figured this would be the next step.

A pause, a shift in body as he turned away from the television to meet with their gaze. It was an important conversation, one that required his full attention and he wouldn’t deny them that. “I just…” he stopped, thinking. But they could already feel the cracks forming across their heart, “it’s always been a dream of mine to live on my own first, ya know?”

It was them that looked away, eyes resettling on the TV screen. “I know,” and they did. He had spent most of his post college life providing support to his mother. He deserved a space of his own for a change.

“Hey,” his fingers tapped at their chin, coaxing their gaze to him again, “it’s not that I don’t want to. There are just some personal goals that I think are important to fulfill.”

“Yeah,” tears were unpreventable now, their head dipping again before they were standing, back to him, “be right back.” They didn’t want him to see them cry over this, didn’t want him to think that they didn’t support his dreams or goals. But they felt that small break, felt the way those words stung under the surface.

Maybe if they had known then that it was never to be a dream of his some part of them could have been spared.

But they walked back into that room, fell into those comforting arms and accepted the small apologizes, the ‘I love you’s with an aching soul. And they drifted off to sleep that night with the fantasy that it would come one day.

The first weekend without him was empty. They didn’t entirely know what to do with themselves, didn’t know how to fall asleep without his body next to theirs, didn’t know how to go through their day without hoping every text on their phone was from him.

So they sat, textbook in hand, silently hoping that the new amount of free time would give them the chance to stop procrastinating - they would be wrong but at least they tried. Anything they could do to keep their mind busy enough not to think about him. They tried to pretend they didn’t care if he was eating or sleeping well or getting home at a decent hour from work. They tried so goddamn hard.

And he may never realize, but their world stopped that day he made his decision. It fell and tumbled and left a black void.

They tried to smile more, to pretend that the something better was coming. But it felt empty compared to everything they had gathered and lost. And they wanted to hate the fact they still loved him, wanted to hate that they still clung to hope that this wasn’t really the end.

But Oikawa had made the decision to move forward without them.

It was time they did too.

[samthewrestlingfan]

DIVE Part 3

Hey Lovebugs! 

Thank you for baring with me yesterday! I just had a long day, and the BEST time at RAW! 

Please enjoy this chapter you guys, I don’t know how long I’ll keep this going, but as long as you guys enjoy it, I guess I’ll keep writing!

Let me know what you all think! <3

Taglist:  @wrestlingbabe @caramara3 @alexahood21 @blondekel77 @isawthesights 

“Oh my God.” Seth breathed, his mouth forming into what can only be described as a confused smile. “Ella…I–I can’t believe you’re here.”

I nodded, “Neither can I.” Part of me wanted to embrace him, to have him pull me into his arms, and kiss me like he used to. But my memories were with the old Seth, I no longer knew the man that stood in front of me.

I cleared my throat. “Seth, just please stop. You’re causing a scene for no reason. I’m the one who asked Hunter not to let you know I was here.” I spoke as sternly as I could, despite my trembling voice.

He scoffed, “I’m causing a scene?!” Seth’s raised his voice again, “You knew I was gonna be around, so why are you even here? I thought you stopped coming to work because of me in the first place!”

Oh hell no. This son of a bitch is not going to have an attitude with me, he as no right.

“Not that its any of your concern, but I came back because Hunter asked me two. He and Steph offered me a job, and I took it.”

Seth opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by HHH, “May I suggest the two of you finish this conversation in my office. These sort of things should be discussed in private, Ella.”

I shoved my hands in the pocket of my sweatshirt, thankful for the bagginess of it, and placed them on my stomach. The baby was wiggling around like crazy, it always did when ever my blood pressure started to rise.

Seth threw the door open and walked inside, Hunter stopped me before I entered. “You need me, just yell.”

I nodded and walked into the office. Seth had perched himself against the desk, arms crossed, eyes locked on me.

HHH closed the door, and then it was just he and I. Something that used to feel so normal was now the most uncomfortable thing in the world.

I kept my gaze on Seth as he began to pace the length of the room. He punched the filing cabinet, and while it looked like it hurt, it seemed to help him calm down. He moved his way back over to the desk and let out a few breaths before speaking.

“How are you?�� Seth asked, his tone much calmer now that he didn’t have to act macho.

I sighed. “I’m fine. Not that you actually care, but I am.”

“Don’t say that, you know I care about you.” He sounded offended.

I couldn’t help but let out a laugh, “Really, Seth? That’s the line you’re going with? Pretty sure when you care about someone–”

He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. “Ya know what, I don’t even wanna get into that.”

Lie.

“I’m over it.”

Lies again.

Seth let his arms drop to his sides as he let out a chuckle. “Exactly what about this situation do you find funny?!” I said flustered.

“Nothing, Els. You just–well you still tap your foot when you lie.” He motioned to my moving right foot. “Dammit…” I mumbled.

A moment of silence passed between us as he stared at me. I did my best to ignore his gaze, but to be honest, I haven’t looked into his eyes in so long they almost hypnotized me.

Seth’s gaze drifted to the floor before he spoke, “Why did you come back? The real answer. Not the one you’ve been telling everyone.” Seth said pushing himself off the desk. “Better yet, why did you leave? You just up and vanished.”

I flopped myself on the couch, “No offense, Seth but I didn’t exactly owe you an explanation. I still don’t.”

Seth looked down and nodded. “So that’s it then? Is you’re plan to ignore me completely until you retire, or decide to disappear again?”

I sighed, “No, not exactly. I just–”

He ran his hands through his hair, then back over his face. “Ella, I thought it was my fault.”

I looked at him confused. Obviously I didn’t leave cause he cheated on me, but Seth seemed to think that was the case. He sounded almost…guilty.

“I asked anyone who would know anything and no one told me shit. Hunter stopped taking meetings with me that weren’t about business. I even offered to go to Smackdown if it would help you get back here.”

I stood slowly from the couch, “Why would you do that?”

Seth approached me slowly, “Because I know I hurt you, Ella. I didn’t want to be the cause of anymore pain in your life.”

I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest. Is he acknowledging what he did? “I appreciate that.” I said trying to sound as casual as I could, but all that was about to fly out the window.

I spoke suddenly, but softly. “I have something to tell you.”

He looked puzzled, “What is it?”

I inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling as though I was going to throw up any second. “Please just listen for a sec okay?”

He nodded, and stepped closer to me. “I don’t even know where to begin to tell ya the truth.”

I began to pace, another sign to Seth no doubt that I was nervous. “I just need you to know that I didn’t find out about this until we were over. I was so angry and disgusted with you and I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you back in my life if I’m honest…”

I let out  breath I didn’t know I was holding in, “But I also didn’t want to disrupt your life.”

Seth shook his head in confusion, “Ella, what the fuck is going on?” He asked, sounding genuinely worried. I let out a deep breath and paused for what felt like an eternity.

As Seth’s brown eyes watched me, I slowly lifted the front of my hoodie. I stopped when Seth had a full view of the bump. “I’m a–I’m p-pregnant.”

Seth backed away from me slowly, “Y-you’re what?”

I held my stomach with both hands, “I’m pregnant. About 5 months.”

The color had drained from his face. “5 months…” He mumbled. “Is it–do you–are you sure it’s mine?” He stammered

I scoffed, offended at what he was insinuating, “Last time I checked I wasn’t the unfaithful one in our relationship.”

He stammered about for a moment, before he composed a coherent thought. “For fuck’s sake, Ella!”

He paced in small circles, “You don’t just fucking spring this on someone!”

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t think I would ever have see you again! Then I find this out? That the father of my unborn child fucked another woman in the bed and home we shared together?” I felt the emotion welling in my throat, but I pushed it back.

Seth stopped moving and looked at me, “I’m sorry you weren’t the first person I ran to.” I shocked myself with how frankly I was speaking.

“Regardless of what I did, I had a right to know, Ella. Especially something like this! You’re 5 months? Would you ever have told me? Or would you just have given birth and kept me in the dark.” Seth sounded so hurt. Now it was me that was feeling guilty.

“That is my kid too. You should have told me the second you found out.” His voice trembled on those last words.

He was right. I sighed and sat back down on the edge of the couch. “You’re right. I’m sorry for that, but honestly can you blame me? Every time I thought about you, I wanted to throw up. I almost sold the house, because every thing, every room in it reminded me of you! I hated you, I think part of me still hates you.”

I sighed, “I didn’t think you’d want to be involved. I thought you just run when you found out.”

Seth flopped down next to me, “Ella I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to you. But you know me, how could you think I would ever abandon you because of this?”

“Seth I knew you, I don’t know you anymore. You’re at a totally different place in you’re life than I am. I’m ready to be a parent, I’ve accepted it. I also prepared myself to be single parent if I had to.”

“You won’t have too.” He spoke quickly. “When we were together, we knew we would want kids someday. Granted it’s not the most traditional way of doing it, but we were never exactly traditional, Els.”

Seth grabbed my hand, causing me to flinch for a moment. “Ella I promise, whatever you need, I’ll be there. Not just for this–” He gestured to the bump, “But I’ll be there for you.”

I smiled at him, “Thank you, Seth.” I couldn’t believe Seth was being so caring. He made me feel so instantly comfortable. Now, here’s to hoping I can trust him again some day.

I slowly rubbed my bump. “Do you know what it is yet?” Seth questioned.

I laughed, “No actually, I haven’t wanted to know yet. But I do have a doctors appointment next month. Maybe I should have them tell me there, I am kinda sick of referring to him or her as ‘it’.”

He paused before he spoke, “Would you mind if I went with you?” He asked hopeful. I turned to see his eyes staring back into mine.

A smile spread across my face, “I would actually really like that.”

Seth laughed comfortably. He shifted his body so his chest was towards me, “Can–Can I hug you?”

My heart skipped a beat at the hopefulness in his voice, “Y-yes. Yeah, you can.”

He wrapped his strong arms around me slowly, I felt myself melt into his hug. I’ve forgotten what it felt like to he held by someone, it’s been so long.

I inhaled his scent, it was so unbelievably comforting, Seth jumped back suddenly. “Whoa! What was that?”

“What? This?” I asked, grabbing his hand and placing it on my stomach. The baby was kicking like crazy! Seth’s face lit up, and he had that big cheesy smile on his face.

“Oh my God. That’s crazy.” He brought his other hand to my stomach and placed it on it. “Hey little one…” My head shot up as I heard Seth speak to my stomach. “It still doesn’t feel real. I don’t know why I’m so happy.” Seth said smiling ear to ear.

I nodded, “Welcome to my world, dude.” He laughed with me.

“I know this doesn’t change things, but I’m really glad you’re here, Ella. And this, well this is just icing on the cake.”

My soft smile hid the inner turmoil my emotions were putting me through. I hated this man. Everything he did to me, how he broke me, and how he ruined what was the best time in my life by being so selfish.

“I have to go get ready for my match but if you need me, come find me. Anything you need, I’m here okay Els?”

I nodded, “Go kick some ass…”

“Hey! No swearing in front of the baby!” He joked, I laughed lightly as I rolled my eyes.

But I still have some kind of love for him. The baby is making it hard not too, but I couldn’t be in love with him again.

—

I opened my hotel room door after getting to the next town. I was so exhausted from being on my feet all night. I laid in bed, only to have a knock at my door not 10 seconds later.

“Uggghhhh!” I groaned out loud.

I opened my door to see no one there, but a bouquet of white tulips on the floor beneath me. I bent down, (and I’m using that term loosely) and grabbed them when I noticed the note.

I unfolded the envelope to see Seth’s handwriting as my eyes began to skim the note.

Hey Ella-Bella…

I hope you made the trip okay, I asked Nia to swap and let me ride with you, but she wasn’t having it.

You know I’m not that great with my words so I figured if I wrote them down it might sound a little better.

I am so unbelievably sorry for what I did to us, and to you.

I know I hurt you more than words can express, but you have to believe me when I say that I didn’t do it because I didn’t love you. I loved you more than anything in my life. I still do.

I know it will bring up a lot of pain, and a lot of hurt. But please let me explain myself to you. It might not change things, but I need to get this off my chest.

Let me know, you know where to find me.

         -Seth

My eyes welled with tears as I let out a sob. Can I deal with all of this again? I don’t know.

But I guess I’m about to find out.

[shadyb00ts]

My Top 12 Favorite Pop Albums of 2017

Man, 2017 was a great year for pop music especially. This year was also when I started actually using Spotify, subscription and all, for the first time, so the new music I discovered just kept on piling up and I was so here for it. I decided I’d compile a top 12 list of my favorite albums, since it’s the end of the year, why not. And yeah I know the “normal” format is top 10, but bitch I have 12 favorites, whaddaya want. And even these I had to really narrow down. If you follow me on Twitter at all though, you probably know exactly what my number one album is. It’s an album that’ll probably be on many people’s number one spots, but I think I’ll do this list descending. This is also only the music that I’ve discovered personally, so if a big pop album/EP from this year wasn’t mentioned, means I either didn’t really like em that much or I have yet to discover them.

#12. BETTY WHO - THE VALLEY

Spotify | iTunes

I actually first heard of Betty Who through Troye Sivan’s song “Heaven” which she featured in. She strikes me as Australia’s equivalent of Carly Rae Jepsen because her songs are all just the completely infectious, bubblegum pop sound that I find irresistible. Some of my favorites from this album are “Mama Say”, “You Can Cry Tomorrow” and “Human Touch”. This is a great album to put on when you’re getting ready with your friends or just wanna jump around and be crazy. If you’ve never heard of her and you’re a pop music freak like me, this album is right up your alley cause it’s chock-full of bops. I’d also recommend checking out her debut album, Take Me When You Go, which has more of the Carly Rae-esque 80s-y feel to it than this one.

#11. TOVE LO - BLUE LIPS (LADY WOOD PHASE II)

Spotify | iTunes

Oh, Tove. What else can I say? If you love pop music then you know exactly why this album made the list and it probably made yours too. She is just the ultimate master of making unapologetically sexual bops. She’s always been very sex positive and seriously, the production on her songs is always spot on as fuck. I’d say “shivering gold” is one of the songs that I keep coming back to the most, as well as “stranger” and the addictive lead single “disco tits”, but this entire album is filled with solid and sultry pop songs that you can pop your pussy to any time. Tove is just always so unabashedly nasty and honest, I always love that about her.

#10. ANNA OF THE NORTH - LOVERS

Spotify | iTunes

One of the indie artists I discovered on Spotify which I’m immensely grateful for. Her music is right up my alley; modern yet very much rooted in dreamy, 80s-inspired synthpop. I pretty much like every single song across the board, but some of my favorites are “Money” which is a really cute song about warning a guy about dating a gold digger, and then “Feels” and the title track “Lovers “ which both just make me drift off into a dreamlike state every time and zone out, and I find most of the songs on this album have the same effect on me. “Dreamy” really is the perfect adjective to describe it. I strongly suggest checking her out if what I’ve described is your thing.

#9. BILLIE EILISH - DONT SMILE AT ME

Spotify | iTunes

I know this is technically an EP since it’s under 10 songs, however I couldn’t possibly skip out of putting it on my list. Billie Eilish is one of the biggest breakout artists of this year I think. I saw a tweet recently from someone who said and I quote, “Whatever ‘it’ is, Billie Eilish has it.” I agree 1000%. She’s got star quality all over her. Looks, talent, all of it. The thing I love about her songs is that her attitude is always present in every one of them. Like in “my boy”, when she’d go “WHAT” or “Alright, dude, go trip over a knife” in between the breaks, and in “COPYCAT” where she does this long, drawn out apology only to top it off with a “sike”. “party favor” is also a very interesting song since it starts off with an answering machine message and it gradually fades into the actual song, and I thought that was such a cool effect; her personality just shines through in her music and that’s what makes her such a star. I have a feeling Billie is going to take 2018 by storm.

#8. DUA LIPA - DUA LIPA

Spotify | iTunes

Yet another new artist who is just oozing with star quality. I had a bit of a slow-to-grow thing with Dua though, for whatever reason. I held off from actually listening to her debut album because I wasn’t really feeling the singles she’d released prior to it. I recognized that she had an incredible voice, but for some reason I just wasn’t warmed up to her enough yet. Enter “Scared to Be Lonely”, her duet with Martin Garrix, which I think is one of the best EDM songs ever made. When I heard that song, I was like okay let me just sit down and listen to this bitch’s album and see what she’s all about. And I was pleasantly surprised. I was surprised at how diverse this album was especially cause she explored a lot of different sounds for almost every song. “New Rules” will always be my favorite, because obviously. That followed by “Genesis” and “Begging” are just a few of the stand-outs for me. Just like Billie, I have a feeling 2018 will also be a big year for Miss Dua.

#7. MUNA - ABOUT U

Spotify | iTunes

God, I am so happy I found this group. I first discovered them through their song “Winterbreak” which I thought was so beautiful and melancholic, I had to dig up more of their songs. Even just thinking about this album gives me a feeling of joy because I just fucking love their music so much. It’s not even something I can explain, you just have to hear it really. The stand outs for me are, well shit, there’s a lot actually. As well as “Winterbreak” I also really love “So Special”, “Loudspeaker”, “I Know A Place” (which I think of as a queer anthem tbh and it is such an empowering, joyful song) and “Crying on the Bathroom Floor” (which has a pretty morbid subject matter but is I think one of the best songs on the album). Please please check them out and support them if you like what they’re giving. I can’t wait to see what they do next cause I am all aboard the MUNA train for sure.

#6. LANA DEL REY - LUST FOR LIFE

Spotify | iTunes

I thought for sure LFL would make it onto my top 5 but it just scraped it. I think when I first listened to the album I was a little too quick to say that it was Lana’s best album to date. I think I was just so wrapped up in the fact that she was back that the excitement and how much I stan for her had me caught up in the moment. I mean let’s be real, even though I do love all her albums, I think most people are in agreement that Born to Die will always be her best. I did really enjoy this album however, especially Lana’s new happier outlook and the fact that she’s a little more political with her lyrics. Even just looking at the album cover, you can tell that she’s in a much better place in her life My favorite song from the album is without a doubt “13 Beaches”, it’s just so stunning and so quintessentially her. Overall I was just happy to hear that she didn’t stray too far from her sound for this album; she’s still unmistakably Lana.

#5. KESHA - RAINBOW

Spotify | iTunes

The long-awaited comeback that at one point I honestly thought would never come. I remember the #FreeKesha movement and how horribly Kesha was treated in the entire case against that monster Dr. Luke. It made me sick how he literally owned her soul at one point, and I’m glad that now despite the fact that she isn’t fully free of his influence, she was at least able to work without him and produced this magical little album. When the video for “Praying” first dropped, I was in tears. In legit tears, because it was the perfect comeback. Her vocals in that song gave me chills, and even though those of us who are massive fans of her have always been aware of her vocal ability, I feel like Kesha always has to constantly prove to the world that she can sing all because for the longest time she was known as “the autotune girl”. While Animal and Warrior were really good albums in their own right and I have a lot of nostalgic affection towards them, I feel like Rainbow was the album she always WANTED to make, just like Joanne was for Gaga. It gave her a chance to truly showcase her talent, which people often forgot or didn’t even know she had. But the thing I love most about this album is that it comes from a place of triumph. I am so proud of my girl. I hope one day she’ll be free of her disgusting abuser and can truly be happy.

#4. ALLIE X - COLLXTION II

Spotify | iTunes

I hesitate to use the word “perfect” a lot of the time, but Jesus Christ I can’t describe Allie in any other way. Even when I first discovered her via her 2015 EP CollXtion I, I immediately described her music as “pop perfection”. Because that’s literally what she does. She takes everything that sounds good about current pop music and makes it her own. She is such a hit maker and it boggles my mind how underrated she is. I think her song “Sanctuary” from her first EP I would even go as far to say as one of the best pop songs I’ve ever heard in my life. IN MY LIFE. In this particular album, every song is a certified bop. “Casanova” is for sure my number one song from it because that production is so flawless it’s criminal. If you’ve never heard of her and are listening to her songs for the first time, make sure to hide your wigs because I’m telling you; they’ll all disintegrate by the time you’ve gone through her discography. Allie X is the real deal, and she deserves WAY more fame and success than she’s getting.

#3. SZA - CTRL

Spotify | iTunes

Okay, yes, I know that technically this is an R&B album, but it would’ve been criminal for me not to put SZA on the list. She joins Billie and Dua as some of the biggest breakthrough artists of the year. I don’t really know why I fell in love with SZA and this album so much, because it’s normally not the kind of music I go for or am interested in. But for some reason I got lost in her gorgeous voice and the insanely crisp production of the songs that I was just hooked the house down boots. Initially my favorite song was “Prom” because it was probably the most pop-sounding song out of the bunch, but it wasn’t long before I grew to love the entire album as a whole, which I didn’t expect to happen since it’s so out of my comfort zone. SZA has this honest way of writing that really cuts deep at times, for example in “Drew Barrymore” when she says: “I get so lonely, I forget what I’m worth / We get so lonely, we pretend that this works” that shit hit hard. It’s REAL. “20 Something” is another one of those songs that anyone in their twenties could probably relate to due its pure honesty. Ctrl was seriously the surprise hit of the year, and I can’t wait to see what SZA does next. I low-key hope her next two albums will be called Alt and Delete.

#2. LIGHTS - SKIN&EARTH

Spotify | iTunes

I have kind of a special connection with Lights. I first discovered her through her song “Savior” back in like, 2010-ish. I was in eighth grade at the time and it was a very tumultuous period in my life. I was in an Islamic school, I had zero friends and I was still coming to terms with the fact that I didn’t fit in with anyone and I never would. I was in a deep depression, and her debut album The Listening helped me through a lot of that period of time. While most people coped with depression through listening to music that mirrored those feelings, I dealt with it by listening to songs that were happy and upbeat. Lights’ songs at the time were adorable and cheerful, sort of akin to if Owl City had a female vocalist. Ever since then, whenever she would release an album, it always helped me out of slumps, and I became really devoted to her. I was obsessed with her follow up albums Siberia and Little Machines, and now Skin&Earth falls into that category. I adore this album, and it’s one of those albums that I have to listen to from start to finish all the time because I just love it so much as a whole. At this point I know she could never disappoint me, and she’s one of the girls I always look to for catchy pop sounds with beautiful lyrics. I love her dearly, and I implore you to go through her catalog if you’ve just now discovered her. She is a true pop gem.

Before we get to the #1 (which I’m sure is pretty obvious at this point), some honorable mentions, most of which are EPs. I’ve attached each of them with their respective Spotify links in case you wanna have a listen to any of em. In no particular order:

Astrid S - Party’s Over (EP)

Monogem - 100% (EP)

Khalid - American Teen (this one almost made the list)

Superfruit - Future Friends (this one too)

PVRIS - All We Know of Heaven, All We Need of Hell

Terror Jr. - Bop City 2: TerroRising

Terror Jr. - Bop 3: The Girl Who Cried Purple (EP)

Sigrid - Don’t Kill My Vibe (EP)

Daniella Mason - Daniella Mason (EP)

Echosmith - Inside a Dream (EP)

Phoebe Ryan - James (EP)

Charli XCX - Number 1 Angel

Fickle Friends - Glue (EP)

FRND - In Your Dreams (EP)

Paramore - After Laughter (another one that just scraped the list)

Transviolet - Kaleidoscopes (EP)

Zara Larsson - So Good

Lola Marsh - Remember Roses

Thomas Azier - Rouge

Halsey - hopeless fountain kingdom

Ralph - Ralph (EP)

Sabrina Claudio - About Time

Demi Lovato - Tell Me You Love Me

Vera Blue - Perennial

Brother Sundance - Honey (EP)

Fifth Harmony - Fifth Harmony

MØ - When I Was Young (EP)

Stalgia - NOMAD

EMBRZ - Progress (EP)

Aly & AJ - Ten Years (EP)

LP - Lost on You

Mothica - Heavy Heart (EP)

SAKIMA - Ricky (EP)

Ella Vos - Words I Never Said

I highly suggest checking these artists out. Just because they didn’t make the list, doesn’t mean they’re less good; my favorites just sorta overpowered them. Anyways, now that that’s outta the way, onto my not at all surprising number one pick.

#1. LORDE - MELODRAMA

Spotify | iTunes

I told you this was Melodrama. How could I not crown this masterpiece of an album number one? Ever since I first listened to it, I was adamant in saying that it would be THE album of the year and I’ve stuck to that. I strongly believe that it should win the Grammy, and deservedly so, because Lorde really outdid herself with this. I mean, holy fuck. When I first heard Pure Heroine I knew she was a talented writer and that was a great album, but I had no idea she was THIS talented. Melodrama really captured the depth of her ability and also how much she’s grown as both an artist and a person. Pure Heroine was all about teen life and coming of age, it was a very cohesive and uniform album and also a very influential album musically speaking, since Pure Heroine along with LDR’s Born to Die has such a heavy effect on the pop music of today. Melodrama still has some of that Pure Heroine charm but it’s unmistakably more adult, darker and grittier, and maintains the cohesive theme of the rise and fall of a relationship. I don’t know how Ella’s mind works but she writes like a dream. All of these songs are masterfully written, and her and Jack Antonoff make an amazing team. One of the songs in particular, “Supercut”, gives me a very euphoric feeling in a way that it makes me want to dance around while laughing and crying at the same time. It is very reminiscent of my feelings toward Gaga’s song “Gypsy” from ARTPOP. “Liability” is a standout in regards to songwriting also, because a lot of artists like to promote their work as “personal”, but this song and really this entire album is pretty much Ella baring her soul, and that’s as personal as “personal” can get. I’m just really in awe of her talent, and Melodrama deserves to top every “album of the year” list out there. It’s an incredible piece of artistry and I think decades from now it is going to be remembered as a classic.

[thirstyfortom]

High School Band AU: Ch. 4

I’ll be back later with a cute fic for Baehee. Meanwhile, have fun with chapter 4!

“Come out, MC! Let us see how you look!”

Ugh… you feel so pathetic, you don’t even know what’s worst, the ruffles in the dress or the cat ears Saeyoung insisted you should try. This dress is too short, you’ll have to wear a bloomer… oh my God! Is there something lamer than a freaking bloomer?

So let’s see, are you uncomfortable because of the clothes or because you’re changing in Yoosung’s bathroom? Both? Yes, Yoosung’s bathroom is pretty clean and all, but ugh… it’s still a young boy’s bathroom… and your father always teased your uncle about what kinds of thing he used to do alone in the bathroom when he was a teenage… no, you don’t want to think like this, especially not about Yoosung, who’s so sweet.

“Please, MC. I told Jumin we would have a costume ready for you until tomorrow.” Jaehee pleads. Oh yeah… she’s the reason you agreed on coming to Yoosung’s house after class. If it were only you, Yoosung and Saeyoung, you wouldn’t probably want to go. You’re glad there’s another girl here, even though she sounds as uncomfortable as you.

“Okay… here it goes…” you open the bathroom door and walk in to Yoosung’s bedroom, only to find three pairs of eyes analyzing you.

“MC, you look… kinda adorable…” Jaehee says, without blinking.

“Kinda? She looks perfect! I knew the cat ears would be a nice touch to the piggytails, which was genius of you, MC. I knew piggytails were your brand as soon as I saw that video with Zen.”

Yoosung is just blushing and staring. Is he alright?

“So… what do you think, MC?” Jaehee asks.

“I…” you sigh “I look like I’m the star of a Card Captor Sakura porn parody, which would be disturbing in so many levels…” Saeyoung doesn’t even change his expression, which concerns you. “I’m sorry, I know you put a lot of effort in this, Saeyoung, it’s very cute, it’s just… not for me?”

“But you’re very cute…” he pouts and whines, and it’s so annoying you don’t even care he’s complimenting you.

“I… it’s just too short, it’s shorter than my shorts from that night with Zen and…” ugh, don’t even think about that night again, just to think of how many trouble that brought…

“You… l-look… really g-go-good, MC. I like it… a lot.” Yoosung finally speaks, his face is as red as Saeyoung’s hair.

“Thank you…” now you’re blushing, because he’s being too cute, you smile at him and he tries to smile back, but he’s so flustered it’s almost scary.

“Whoa! You look like the star of a Card Captor Sakura porn parody, which would be disgusting!” Saeran almost shouts as he walks in Yoosung’s bedroom. Ugh… did you two really think about the same thing?

“See, even this asshole agrees with me, Saeyoung! Just imagine what Jumin will say…”

“And ever since when do you care about what Jumin thinks?” Saeran asks.

“I don’t know, Saeran, ever since he jumped at Zen’s throat?”

“Ah, yes, that… Don’t mind their bickering too much, stupid.” He shrugs, you roll your eyes.

“He’s right, MC. Don’t worry about them, they’ve been like this since first year.” Jaehee says as she’s talking to a kid. “Besides, Jumin already apologized to you, didn’t he?”

Did he? Time for a quick flashback.

After lunch break yesterday, you were in your locker looking for the biology book, when Jumin showed up, just like he did early in the morning. Oh no… is he going to yell at you? Actually, you would prefer if he yelled at you, maybe it would be less scary than what you saw in that old room.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sure… go ahead.”

“I… was talking to Jaehee and she booked a gig for us, we’ll play at some seniors’ party in two weeks. Rehearsals will start tomorrow at Yoosung’s garage, okay?”

“Okay… thanks for the heads up.” You keep flipping through your books, his furious eyes looking at Zen still giving you the creeps. And the fact that he keeps standing next to you with his hands in his pockets without saying anything  isn’t helping at all. “Anything else?”

“Yes, I… I… just wanted to say that we’re even.”

“Even?”

“I’ll forgive you for the way you talked to me in the audition if you forget what you saw this morning.” Oh… so he feels bad too.

“May I ask what that was about, by the way?”

“Don’t worry, it was just Zen being dramatic, and I… got a little carried away with all his drama as well. Just… forget what you saw, and… please know I don’t think you’re vulgar, I just expressed myself in a wrong way…”

“Will you apologize to Zen too?”

“Don’t worry about Zen, MC. He doesn’t deserve your concerns.”

“Well, consider yourself lucky, this is the closest I’ve ever heard about Jumin Han apologizing.” Saeyoung says.

“Yeah, and I kinda agree with Jumin, MC. You shouldn’t worry about Zen that much…” Yoosung speaks a he’s afraid of your reaction.

“Why not? He was the victim and… that fight started because of me, after all…”

“MC… don’t say that. Why would you even think like this?”

“Isn’t it obvious, Jaehee? She’s catching the feels for Zen! Ugh… you’re so predictable…” Saeran narrows his eyes at you, you do the same.

“I’m… I’m not! I’m just worried!”

“Ohhh, I saw how worried you were walking him to the nurse when he clearly was fine.”

“So what? I was worried and I helped him because he was really nice to me before!”

“MC? Did something happen between you two in the nursery?” Jaehee asks in a concerning tone.

Did it? Time for another flashback!

“Ugh, I should have broken that jerk’s face!” Zen mutters.

“Then we would be going to detention instead of nursery…”

“Detention isn’t that bad, trust me. And what’s with the ‘we’? You would go to detention with me?”

“I would, since I started the fight…”

“What? No, you didn’t! I mean… that jerk was being a jerk to you, but I started, MC. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t put you in trouble.”

“Funny you say that after giving me a fake ID and taking me to a nightclub... You’re lucky that I had fun, otherwise I would have to report you!” you two chuckle “Oh, remind me of bringing your jacket tomorrow, I need to give you back.”

“Keep it if you want. It looked better on you, anyway.” No, not really… “Plus, use it when you’re in a place with a lot of guys, they’ll think you have a boyfriend and leave you alone. Men just respect girls if they know she already belongs to another man.”

“Yeah, because a ‘no’ from the girl isn’t enough, she needs to walk with a NO sign that smells like testosterone from another guy to be respected.”

“I… guess… Please keep the jacket, okay? It’s an apologizing gift for everything I did…”

“It’s fine, Zen. You can apologize to me singing good duets like that ‘Kiss’ one. You killed it, sir!” he blushes again and chuckles, looking down.

“It’s easy to kill when you sing from your heart…” what… what does he mean? “Thank you for giving me your… extra time, MC.” Shit! Just imagine if he says he wants a kiss, like in that Prince’s song… no, look at him! Look at you! He doesn’t really… why is he coming so close?

“I… gotta go, I’m late for math class. Boy, do I like math? So uhm… text me if the nurse says you’re not ok… so, uhm… thanks for the jacket. Bye…” you almost ran out of there, swearing you saw  a little smirk in those perfect lips…

“Nah, nothing happened. Saeran is just being a prick, but what else is new?”

“Okay… tell me if something happens, okay? Zen has this little tendency of flirting with…”

“Everything that breathes.” Saeyoung interrupts her.

“And… this could be trouble for the band, so tell me if he’s making you uncomfortable, okay?” you weren’t really uncomfortable, were you? It was more like… surprised?

“Sure, I will. Don’t worry…” you don’t want to cause any trouble for Zen… again.

“Okay, Jumin will probably like the costume, but since you didn’t, MC… I’ll keep looking, how do you feel about red latex?” you and Jaehee look at Saeyoung with widen eyes. “Just kidding… or am I?”

“Very funny. Come on, guys, let’s help Yoosung opening the garage. Jumin and Zen are probably on their way.” Jaehee says, grabbing Saeyoung’s arm to force him out of Yoosung’s bed.

“I’ll just change into normal clothes and meet you.” You say, heading to the bathroom. Ugh… this zipper… is stuck! Maybe Jaehee is still here to help you?

“Hey, Jae…” you yelp as you see Saeran still there. “Why aren’t you helping Yoosung in the garage?”

“Don’t tell me what to do, especially when you look so pathetic!”

“Ugh… whatever, dude. Just shut up and help me with this zipper.” You walk to him.

“W-what?”

“The zipper in the back is stuck, help me! Or you’ll have to keep looking at this pathetic figure during rehearsal.”

“I’ll… I’ll call Jaehee…”

“Dude, you’re here doing nothing and she’s busy! It’s just a zipper!” you don’t even like each other, why would this be a problem for him or for you? It’s not like you’re asking Zen or… no, forget that “Or are you that useless that you can’t help me with this single fly?”

“I’ll show you useless!”  he grabs your shoulders and makes you turn your back on him. “So, uhm… we told you before, but since you’re so stupid, I’ll say it again. Don’t mind about Jumin and Zen too much, you’re not their problem at all. Just focus on singing.”

“Why should I listen to you?”

“Because I’m the only one who will always be honest with you, since I don’t really care about how you feel. So… just know this thing between them didn’t start with you, it comes from when Rika was still in the band.” You feel the zipper going down. “So, don’t think you’re so special, okay?” he grins at you.

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, I can probably see one if you don’t put a bloomer or whatever…”

“GET OUT!!!” what a gross stupid jerk! He walks away laughing as you slam the bedroom’s door.

You walk into the garage and meet everybody, including Zen and Jumin.It’s the first time you see them together after that weird scene from Monday, the first time you see Jumin after his attempt of an apology and the first time you see Zen after… whatever happened in the nursery…

Ugh… what is this feeling in your stomach? You just wanted to sing, you didn’t sign up for all this drama, and definitely not for these feelings…

← Chapter Three | Chapter Five  →

[fair-fae]

I’m going to tell you a story, because I don’t know what else to do with this information or how to process it lmao.

I had some problems finding my place in XIV and its community at first when I started playing at 2.0′s launch and it nearly caused me to quit the game. And a huge portion of this problem was a girl who played a Miqo’te named something along the lines of R’aenah (the character has no doubt long since been deleted or renamed). I started 2.0 with @its-the-val-pal, who had played my character’s husband in our previous MMO, and we decided to reroll similar characters here. We intended for our characters to become romantically involved again, but we didn’t want their relationship to feel rushed or forced, so we waited for it to happen organically, if it were to work out at all. But being new to the game (or, rather, the game and community itself being new), we were trying to make new contacts, and one who’d shown interest in Val was R’aenah. Her character almost immediately proved to be sexually attracted to his, and idgaf, IC is IC and she could have been thirsting for him OOC for all I cared. Our characters weren’t even dating yet. We have no OOC involvement. No skin off my back. At first. RPing with Val quickly became impossible, especially anything that was one-on-one or would help push our characters’ relationship in the direction we were hoping. I was still low level, so we could only (safely) RP in so many places. We both only had so much time to dedicate to FFXIV which didn’t always overlap, and we were both still trying to level. We didn’t have a ton of time to RP. R’aenah began to crash every single one of our RP’s. As soon as she saw us online in the same area, she’d run around until she found our characters and immediately swoop in IC.  Due to the IC dynamics between the characters at the same time, the scene always played out the same. R’aenah would barge in no matter what was happening to immediately try to convince Val to sleep with her and drag him off for sex or other alone time right then and there, and make some jabs at Faye in the process. Val, single and at his maximum horndogness and probably the peak of his sexual frustration, would be intrigued. Faye would be like “wtf are you doing, you’re my bodyguard, you’re not supposed to ditch me to sleep with random women (especially ones being super bitchy to me) while you’re on the job.” And then R’aenah would start hurling insults at Faye for trying to cockblock her, Val would take R’aenah’s side and even join in because as far as he was concerned she was the one putting out and Faye was his snobby employer who kept rejecting him, and Faye would get furious until the situation would escalate to the two of them having a good ol’ Faye roastfest until she stormed off and they could flirt or bang in peace. And it was frustrating. I didn’t really care what was happening IC. But I did care that I couldn’t enjoy RP with my RP partner anymore on an OOC level because it either never happened, or wasn’t fun when it did. Faye was either quickly edged out of any RP we tried to do, or I’d have to sit through an RP of two characters trying to get laid with each other meanwhile harassing my character nonstop, which proved to be not fun RP content after a while, and also made little sense from a meta standpoint because Faye wouldn’t just hang around and endure that. But the source of the problem was IC, and I didn’t want anyone to have to censor or change how their characters naturally behaved, so I kept my mouth shut about my frustrations.  But things quickly bled over into OOC. R’aenah started telling Val things like how he owed her RP, he needed to spend more time with her, he should spend less time with me, he had already been RPing with me enough (even though the reason we had to try to schedule so many RP’s is because we had no quality time RPing together because she crashed them all). He tried to explain to her that we’d been friends for two years, that we hoped/intended for Faye and Val to get together, that I was his primary RP partner, but that meant nothing because apparently some rando with no relation to him IC or OOC trumped that because she said so. I began to realize the things she was doing IC weren’t just her character’s personality coupled with some OOC obliviousness to our space and time together but were part of some weird agenda to cut me out of Val’s RP time so she could monopolize all his character’s time and make sure he never got together with Faye. That didn’t fly for long. We cut ties with her, I told her to fuck off, she called me a bitch/cunt/etc. and said she was quitting the game forever, we’d never see her again, yadda yadda.  TWO GODDAMN YEARS LATER. A girl joined my FC playing an Elezen. She gave no indication that she knew either of us and did not state in her app that she’d played another character or under another name. She was fine and normal at first. Eventually, one evening I noticed her character had some IC jealousy issues and was acting extremely petty. It sent up red flags for me since 90% of the time I’ve seen that, it’s bled OOC. I wasn’t surprised when I got a message the very next day from the same girl she’d been harassing IC telling me the same thing had been happening OOC. So I sat her down, we had a talk, told her that shit wasn’t gonna happen again, and to my knowledge she chilled out... on that single front. She started dating a dude in the FC, he bought a plane ticket for them to visit each other. Another girl who’d had experiences with the same guy told her it wasn’t a good idea. She immediately broke up with the dude and cancelled their plans to meet. She started mocking the dude to someone in private about how he hadn’t been able to get it up to exchange nudes with her. Thanks, tmi. She met up IRL with a couple other people from the FC and apparently hooked up with one of them. Tmi again, thanks, why do people tell me about these things. She got super jealous and abusive with the person she hooked up with IRL. Despite all these things, she goes on and on about how ERP is disgusting and tries to shame people in the FC who admit to doing it. Drama from all these things ensued. She eventually got kicked for said drama. I’m mean and evil for kicking her for “no reason,” etc. A few months passed. Some ERP-for-gil courtesan starts chatting at me OOC and gushes about my character and tells me how much she wants to RP. We get a few posts in and suddenly it’s too late and she’s tired and has to go right now. She apologizes profusely and promises to RP another time. It never happens. On multiple occasions, she stands across the room from my character for hours with my RP flag up, but she doesn’t approach me and I don’t hear from her OOC about it again.  Courtesan, however, does contact Val one day and says we seem really nice, it’s so weird her roommate really hates us. She tells Val her roommate is the Elezen girl who was kicked from our FC. Weird, confusing, and bizarrely coincidental, but hey. Neither of us hear from courtesan again. She name changed and fantasia’d several times and I’ve lost track of who she even is on my friends list since then. A few more months passed. Tonight, Val and I are reminiscing about some of the really crazy stuff that happened to us when we started playing. “I bet half these people who told us they’re ‘quitting forever’ after they got caught being creepy/jerks are long since playing again with new names or characters.” We get nosy so we look into a few. We dig up R’aenah’s old, long abandoned RPC profile. Lo and behold, it no longer lists R’aenah as her character... but instead, the name of the Elezen who’d stirred up all that drama in our FC. For like a year??? This girl who had almost made me give up on the game yet boo-hoo’d about how I made her “quit forever”??? was in my FC??? that we led??? certainly knowing it was us since we’re playing the same characters with the same looks and names and personalities and same FC name and acronym since launch??? not saying a word about it to us??? acting all buddy-buddy with us both??? coming to me for advice for her problems??? whining to me about all the drama she stirred up herself in the fc??? acting like it was unjust she got kicked for it??? completely hiding who she was all that time??? What the fuck? So that is my story. Balmung may seem to have a huge number of people are who are creepers or assholes. Apparently half of them are the same people just pretending to be someone else. Idk if that’s reassuring or even more unsettling. But, y’know, there ya go. (and I was already a little rattled because today someone asked to join my closed FC and a quick google search revealed it was a girl who’d hated me and been out for my blood in TERA)

SO YEAH, THAT’S MY FUN STORYTIME, HAVE A GOOD NIGHT AND FURIOUSLY GOOGLE EVERYONE YOU MEET

[misssugarpinkshome]

Oh I feel bad :(. Could you do a Sans and Male Reader short story? I hope your day gets better! You're a great writer. Maybe Sans admits to the reader that he has a crush on them? (I know it's not very creative, and if you don't want to write for it, that's okay! I just hope (whatever you're going through) that you can see the good in whatever's happening. There's always something good to latch onto in a bad situation. I love your writing, and hope your day gets better. :)

Thanks so much for the prompt. :) I’m feeling much better than I had been, and this fic really helped! It’s just a random reader and a Sans. I think Reedz was kept pretty gender neutral in this one, but I imagined a male reader.

Thanks for the compliments as well. It was a huge confidence booster. :)

Fic is under the cut!

You sighed, struggling to light the cigarette in your hands. Today had just been absolute shit. First, Sans - the skeleton, as he had told you when you’d first met - had introduced you to Toriel and Asgore. That would’ve normally gone a lot better, had you not made a complete fool of yourself because they were royalty.

You’d floundered in the kitchen when trying to help Toriel bake a pie, you had spilled tea all over yourself, and your attempt at a goat pun had fallen ridiculously flat. You just weren’t good at that stuff, especially under pressure. Toriel had given you a pity laugh and Asgore had given you a patient smile. The kid there, Frisk, was evidently the ambassador that you’d heard so much about. They had just scrunched up their nose at the pun. Sigh.

Worst of all was probably the way Sans had been watching you all night, though. He had that same smile on his face, that idiotic ‘I know something you don’t know’ smirk that, for some ungodly reason, just made your heart thump a little harder in your ribs. It had only gotten more genuine, wider, after your failures today.

God. He probably thought you were a bumbling moron.

You sighed, relieved as you finally got the cigarette lit. You didn’t smoke often, but you needed to relax after today. You watched the sky, shivering; it was hella cold out, but you would sacrifice that for the view of the stars. Something about it helped to ease the tension in your body, and that always helped you think just a bit clearer.

That would’ve been nice, if all of your thoughts weren’t stuck on Sans.

You knew you had a crush on him. Hell, you’d had a crush on him since the day you met. You had relieved that moment way too many times since then - really, an embarrassing amount of times since then. You remembered the exact look on his face, the exact shape of his eyesockets and the surprised little flicker in his eyes, right down to the moment when you’d fallen directly into him.

You had always been ridiculously clumsy in the winter. Fuck ice. But in this case, you had slipped and fallen on something much softer than icy sidewalks - surprisingly, Sans’s bones were much softer, something you could easily see yourself cuddling. And god, had you imagined it, seeing as you had no control over your dreams. But, unfortunately for Sans, when you fell into him that day, around 2 months ago, all of the art supplies you had been carefully lugging along with you to your studio had decided to fall directly into his fucking eyesocket.

You had been so embarrassed, apologizing profusely, blood rushing to your cheeks faster than to your head as you picked up the few things that didn’t go into his eye. He was absolutely frozen under you, sockets void of color. And you still remembered the exact thing he’d said, the thing that had made your heart suddenly skip just a single beat, enough to make you feel off for the rest of the day.

“eye know iris-k sounding cornea, but i think you just got lost in my eyes.”

You chuckled to yourself as you remembered that moment. It had been one of your most embarrassing ones, for sure - and that was saying a lot. But it had introduced you to… well…

He was funny. Witty, really, with how fast and clever he was with puns. He was protective and good at it too - something you had always needed, being not too strong and not too smart. He made you laugh when you needed it, which was more and more frequently nowadays. But better yet…

You made him laugh too. And it seemed like, sometimes, he needed it  more than you did.

So yeah. You had a crush on a (depressed?) comic skeleton without flesh who would probably think your taste in men is weird. And, well, it probably was. You had only dated a few people before, none of those relationships going very far, and all of them more outlandish in personality than the last. Figured the next one would be a skeleton.

Next… er… Crush. Not date. Because, well…

Why would he ever want you?

You sighed, watching the stars, alone with your thoughts.

“heya, buddy.”

Not as alone as you thought.

“GAH!” You jumped, eyes widening. Sans held up his hands as a sign of good will. “Jesus, don’t DO that! Why do you move silently!?”

Sans grinned, eyes flickering with mischief. Oh no. “i’m not jesus, but feel free to worship me if you’d like.” You groaned, rolling your eyes and looking away from him, visibly pouting. He laughed, motioning next to you on the steps leading to your apartment complex. You’d been living next door to the brothers for awhile now, another fact that made your heart pound. Close proximity did shit to your hormones. “this seat taken?”

You took a breath, letting the smoke trail out your nose as you breathed out. “Be my guest.”

He sat down, glancing at the cigarette. “that stuff’ll kill you, y’know.”

“Not today, it won’t.” You slipped it out of your mouth and crushed it under your shoe anyways. No sense subjecting him to the smoke (did smoking even affect skeletons?). “What brings you out here?”

He didn’t say anything for a minute. You didn’t look his way; doing that usually just made you flustered. You watched the stars in silence until he spoke. “i, uh… wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?” Again, he paused. You risked a glance his way. His cheeks were a bit flushed, tinted blue with his magic. He looked embarrassed, to say the least. At first glance, the sight was adorable to you, making you just want to hug him close and not let him go as you laughed about how silly he looked with a blush. But, well, then your brain caught up with your thoughts.

He was embarrassed.

Oh.

You sighed. “I get it,” you said, seeing him jolt out of the corner of your eye even as you looked down. “Look, I’ll stop bothering you guys, I know I made a complete ass of myself tonight-”

“what? bud-”

“-And I mean, who even tries to joke around with royalty, right? But I was just hella flustered, and when I get stressed out, word vomit happens - like, erg, right there, who uses the phrase ‘word vomit’, that’s just disgusting-”

“human.”

“- So yeah, I’ll just head back inside and you can ignore me for like the rest of life because I know I’m just an embarrassment of a friend? Alright, nice talk, see-”

His hand slapped over your mouth, causing you to stop speaking, mostly out of shock, both from the hand and his face. He looked so concerned. “okay, first off… what? the fuck?”

He dropped his hand. You stayed silent. “like… dude. i don’t give a shit about dinner? actually, believe it or not, that was one of the best times at tori’s that i’ve ever had.”

“Seriously? Sans, I accidentally put salt in the pie. A fucking cup of salt, Sans.”

“and?” Sans ran his hand over his vertebrae, a lopsided grin on his face, eyes just full of light (not that you saw any of this). “you were sodium cute.”

“Sans, stop it with the p-” Your words left you instantly as you processed what he had said.

“… fuck.”

“Sans-”

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-” You looked over in time to see him bury his head in the hood of his jacket. His cheeks, still visible, were stained a brilliant blue. “shit, i have better ones in stock and that’s the one i went with!?”

You blinked, mouth opening and closing without a sound.

He gestured wildly, hood flipping back as he did, still talking. “i was gonna take you to grillby’s, use my old me-n-u pun, or maybe start a fire in the fireplace at tori’s and say ‘you’re hot and i want s’more of you’ - and in the end i went with sodium cute?!” He covered his face with his hands.

“Sans.”

He peeked at you out of the corner of his hands. You laughed a bit at his bashful expression; it wasn’t a face you could ever have imagined on him. “Sans, you’re… You’re flirting with me?”

“er…” He cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “well, i was tryin’ to. dunno how bad i’m doin’.”

“But… why?”

He blinked, watching you. You felt your cheeks warm up at his expression and wow okay the winter air suddenly felt much less chilly with the look in his eyes. “buddy. have you seen yourself?” He gestured to you with his hand, a helpless look on his face. “you’re goddamn gorgeous, hilarious, and so fucking kind you make my soul hurt.” Your heart lept into your throat as he said that. “i’ve been tryin’ to figure out how to ask you out since, heh, i got lost-”

“-in my eyes,” you finished, wonderment on your face. He stuttered to a stop, that blue tint pulling all your attention. He just nodded wordlessly. “I… Sans…”

“‘s… ‘s okay if you… y’know… aren’t interested in all this.”

“Sans.” You reached out and grabbed his hand. He started at the touch and looked at you. “I… Goddamn it.” You tugged him forward, shutting your eyes and going for it. You lifted his chin so he was in the right position and kissed him-

Right on his teeth.

You pulled back quickly, blushing and opening your eyes. He looked… confused? Fuck. Fuck that was the first time you had kissed him. You had just kissed a skeleton.

HE DIDN’T HAVE FUCKING LIPS.

“… Goddamn it, I can’t do anything right,” you said softly, clearing your throat. “But, uh… T-Think that tells you how I feel about you.”

Sans blinked. He slowly, slowly began to ease into a comfortable smirk. “yeah, you… really can’t kiss right, can you?”

…. Ouch.

This was a prank, wasn’t it? An awful, sick joke he had played on you. And you had fallen-

“cause, well, it takes tulips to kiss, and while you rose to the occasion, i was a lily bit too lazy, huh?”

…

This motherfucker.

Your shock turned into a wide, beaming smile. “Sans. Sans, there’s no flowers out here, it’s the middle of winter.”

“hmm… icy.”  You snorted, your emotions running away with you. Fuck. Fuck, he liked you. He actually - oh god, you actually liked each other? That was a thing? That was a thing that was currently happening? He looked at you and your heart skipped more than just one beat, thumping hard in your chest. Because suddenly, he looked proud, happy, and most of all…

Passionate.

“well… maybe thistle cheer you up.” As he pulled you forward slowly, hand under your chin, you could feel the magic tingling around his skull, and suddenly you were kissing lips made of that magic that made you feel so intensely, and…

He was definitely right.

That cheered you up immensely.

You pulled away softly, a smile on your face. “Guess our love really… blossomed from that first pun?”

“heheh… you’ll make a good pupil,” Sans said, winking. “c’mon - it’s cold out. let’s go warm up, verta-bae.”

You liked the sound of that.