#usually they only puke if they SOMEHOW find something they’re not supposed to eat

[delzinrowe]

I love being woken up at 3am by a puking cat

[mercurygguk]

cockblocked. (m) | jjk

➵ summary; in which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; “you’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”

pairing; jeongguk x f. reader

word count; 15.8k

rating; 18+

content; roommates au + friends (idiots) to lovers, smut/fluff/angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol, swearing, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, cum eating, oral sex (f. receiving), stupid jeongguk and stupid reader

a/n; i’ve been wanting to write a oneshot for so long with the ultimate boyfriend version of gguk, so i started writing with this gguk in mind. i hope you like it! ALSO, this is heavily unedited, so ignore any typos thx – enjoy!

find drabbles related to this fanfic through this tag !! 

Music is blaring through the speakers, shaking your body as you stand against the wall, watching people get shitfaced and stick their tongues down each other’s throats. There’s an untouched drink in your hand. It’s lukewarm by now and definitely tasting way worse than when it was made. You hate yourself for always saying yes to joining your friends at this type of scene. Quite simply, you hate every single thing about parties at frat houses. The music is shit, it’s nothing compared to your own favorite chill playlist filled with ballads and old classics. The alcohol smells and tastes like crap, and it doesn’t get you nearly as drunk as it should. To top it all off, your friends had left you alone for two random guys, so in conclusion, this night could’ve been better but it could’ve been much worse as well you suppose. It’s not like you’ve done anything stupid, so really, what’s the problem?

It’s not even that late when you decide to make your way upstairs. There must be a quieter place in this huge house where you can sit in silence until you deem it acceptable to leave again. But as you push your way past couples practically having sex on the staircase, you realize that all rooms are most likely taken. Maybe you should just leave now? You chuckle at your own situation. You haven’t even been here for two hours and you’re already planning on going home again. You shake your head to yourself as you continue your walk upstairs. It won’t hurt to see if you just happen to be lucky enough to find an empty room in this gigantic house.

The first room you come across seems quiet as you press your ear against the door’s surface. You take the chance and grab the handle before pushing yourself inside. You stop in your tracks when one of the two in there turns to look at you, the other one sitting with their head down a bucket. You grimace as you back out of the room, closing the door behind you. The smell of puke haunts you as you move on to the next door.

“Last room better be empty,” you whisper to yourself after checking almost every single room upstairs. You push yourself inside without a single warning to those who may be on the other side of the door. The scene in front of you doesn’t surprise you at all as you stay in the doorway. The pair stops their actions upon your presence.

“I swear that’s the seventh person to barge in here!” The girl, who was being grinded on by the dude on top of her, whines. The guy turns his head to look at you, a glare evident even though it’s mostly dark in the room. “And suddenly I’m not in the mood anymore,” the girl groans as she pushes Mr. Fuckboy off her, “see you around, Jeon.”

You watch with an amused smirk as the girl yanks her shirt off the ground, slipping it on and pushing past you out of the room, her shoulder bumping against yours. You chuckle to yourself, wondering why some girls just had to be like that. The guy you now know as ‘Jeon’ gets up from the bed, turning to face you fully. He’s not wearing a shirt which allows you to see the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. His pants are unzipped and his belt is unbuckled, and yet he doesn’t seem fazed at all. You cock a brow at him as he finally notices and reaches down to zip his pants and buckle his belt.

“Thanks for cockblocking me by the way,” ‘Jeon’ shoots at you, making you scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, it’s not entirely my fault,” you defend yourself, gesturing to the door beside you, “you could’ve just locked the door.”

He chuckles at your defensive tone as he grabs his sweatshirt off the floor. He slips it over his head, messing his black, curly hair up even more than it was before. That girl must’ve had a good grip on it for it to look like such a mess in this very moment.

“Why are you even in here?” Jeon asks, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. It tames it a bit, you think to yourself as you watch it fall back onto his forehead and slightly into his eyes. Not bothering to answer his question, you decide on stepping further into the room, making your way to the balcony that happened to be in this exact room. Jeon watches you as you open the doors and head outside into the chilly night air. He follows behind, joining you on the balcony. Why he does so wonders the both of you. He leans on the railing beside you, looking at the side of your face. “Party not fun enough?”

You chuckle. “Just not my typical scene,” you tell him, glancing at him.

The stranger, who goes by ‘Jeon’ so far, is still looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What is your typical scene then?”

This dude’s sudden interest in you doesn’t go unnoticed by you, so you decide to finally look at him fully instead of the drunk people on the front lawn below you.

“Somewhere quieter, somewhere you’re actually able to talk to people,” you explain to him, “and if there’s food, even better!”

This makes him laugh lightly, a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach tingle in a funny way. “A foodie then?”

You nod, a wide smile on your face. “Huge foodie.”

“What’s your name?” He asks, seeming genuinely interested in knowing it. “I’m Jeongguk.”

“___,” you tell him, “it’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk.”

He grins, a bunny smile appearing and you can’t help but think about how ridiculously cute he actually is. And yet still a fuckboy, without a doubt.

“Nice to meet you too, ___.”

You both watch the drunk people below in silence. You wonder what he’s thinking about. Does he think the same about these people as you or is he usually one of them? Maybe he’s one of those people who attends every single frat party. But he doesn’t seem to be very drunk at the moment. You’re about to ask him when he turns to look at you, eyes slightly wide with a glint in them as if he just thought of something brilliant.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” He suddenly asks. You squint your eyes at him, wondering what place he possibly could be thinking about. “I know this great place that has really good frozen yoghurt.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “you want frozen yoghurt at almost 1 am?”

He nods, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, why not? This party sucks aaaand you totally cockblocked me, so I see no reason to stay here anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle at his attempt to make you feel guilty once again. “I stand my ground,”  you snicker, “you could’ve just locked the door, dumbass.”

Jeongguk shrugs it off, a tiny smirk appearing on his lips. “So, is that a yes?”

You purse your lips, pretending to think about his question when in reality you had made up your mind the second he mentioned frozen yoghurt. Food is never questioned, you always say yes when your friends ask, and now also when Jeongguk asks. You nod, smiling widely.

“Yeah, frozen yoghurt sounds really good, actually.”

Jeongguk grins, grabs your hand before pulling you back inside and out of the room. A mild tingle erupts in your stomach as you look down at how tightly his hand is gripping yours. You shake the thoughts from your head as you follow behind, letting him guide you downstairs to where the party is still ongoing. He pushes his way through the crowd of people, glancing back at you once in a while to make sure you’re still with him. Were you really just about to leave this party, leave your friends behind to get frozen yoghurt with a complete stranger? Guess so. Were you starting to regret saying yes? Surprisingly, no.

As you ride with the bus to the downtown part of the city, you learn a few things about Jeongguk. He tells you that he’s majoring in photography and that his camera is his most prized possession, he tells you about how he’s a huge gym rat and that he’s basically living his life at the gym when he isn’t studying or running around with his camera. You learn that Jeongguk loves food more than anything and that he’s quite a chef himself (but you also learn that he isn’t one to brag, so you basically had to force it out of him). He also tried to assure you that he wasn’t a fuckboy, which you had claimed him to be when you interrupted him in that bedroom. You only laugh it off, patting him on the shoulder as if to tell him it’s okay, that you don’t judge him for whatever sex life he’s living.

You find yourself enjoying his company more than you had expected to, laughing more than you ever would’ve at the frat party. Even at some point throughout the bus ride, your one leg had somehow managed to rest over his thigh, his hand on it as if it’s the most normal position for the two of you. And there’s not a single moment of awkward silence during the entire trip to that frozen yoghurt place which Jeongguk had been gushing about since you got on the bus.

“Why is this place even open so late?” You ask as Jeongguk holds the door open for you. You walk inside the shop, him following right behind. Before Jeongguk can answer your question, you gasp loudly as you take in the size of the place Jeongguk brought you to. He chuckles from beside you, grabbing your hand once again to pull you to the yoghurt machines. Your mouth is agape in amazement as you grab a cup, starting to mix different flavours. “Jeongguk, there’s too many flavours! How am I supposed to make one without having to pay a shit ton of money?”

Jeongguk laughs, eyes scrunching together and pearly white teeth showing. “I guess that means we have to visit again soon?” He says, more like a question than a statement.

You nod excitingly, making him laugh once again.

Jeongguk ends up paying for yours even after you fight him on it, but he didn’t take no for an answer and left you to watch as he paid for both cups of yoghurt, yours ending up more expensive than you had intended.

“Thanks, that was really kind of you,” you softly tell him as he hands you your cup, playfully glaring at him as he does so. “It’s on me next time.”

He shrugs it off, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it, ___.”

You seat yourselves inside a booth, eating your frozen yoghurt in comfortable silence. Jeongguk finishes it rather quickly causing you to widen your eyes at his empty cup. You’re about to tell him he’ll end up with a brain freeze but the said brain freeze beats you to it. You watch as Jeongguk brings a hand to his forehead, groaning in agony.

“Fuck,” he swears, “wasn’t thinking about this when I shoved that down.”

You laugh, grimacing yourself as he grimaces in pain. After a while, it stops and Jeongguk rubs his forehead with a sigh.

“You good?” You ask as you try to stifle another laugh. He nods, glaring at you and then the empty cup in front of him. Pushing it to the side, you chuckle. “It’s not the yoghurt’s fault, Jeongguk.”

He sighs deeply as he leans back in his seat, watching you as you finish yours. You glance at him occasionally, offering him a small smile once in a while as well. His eyes are captivating in a way, dark brown irises and long lashes. You can’t hold his stare for long without feeling like he’s seeing right through you and reading everything there’s going on inside your head. A tiny crush is starting to develop at the bottom of your stomach, but you try to ignore it, not wanting to go in that direction right now.

“You never told me about yourself,” he then says, catching your attention once again as he leans over the table. You look at him, confused. “It was just me talking about myself on the way here and we never got to talk about you.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, “well, there isn’t much to tell.”

Jeongguk scoffs with a chuckle. “Come on, there has to be something.”

You think for a bit, trying to think about what you can tell him that could possibly be interesting for Jeongguk to hear about. “But what do you wanna know?” You ask him, smiling.

“Mhm,” he hums, “well, first of all, what’s your major?”

“English,” you answer.

He nods at that. “Favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“Favorite animal?”

Without thinking, you smile and answer: “Bunnies.” 

You swear you see Jeongguk’s cheeks redden as the word leaves your mouth. You smile to yourself, resting your chin in your palm as you watch him, his cheeks flushed. He rubs his chin, searching for another question. 

“Ah! Celebrity crush?”

“Gong Yoo,” you sigh, dreamy gaze with what you’d call a real-life ‘heart eyes’ emoji expression on your face. Across from you, Jeongguk is pretending to gag. You swat at him, giggling lightly. “Shut up! You’re just jealous.”

“Never,” he retorted quickly, making you smirk slightly. “Okay, last question.”

You wait, anticipating something but not sure what exactly.

“Can I have your number?”

There’s nothing to do to stop the blush that colors your cheeks as you nod, smiling at him for being so damn smooth. He hands you his phone with a small smile, you type his phone number in and hand him his phone back. Jeongguk laughs as he notices how you put your name in his phone; ‘cockblocker <3′

“I’m glad we did this,” he suddenly says, his expression a serious but soft one. You nod in agreement.

“Me too,” you tell him, meaning it. This night turned out way better than you had expected, and it was all because you happened to cockblock Jeon Jeongguk.

You run around your dorm room with a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair all over the place as you try to figure out where you left your phone. Your phone is currently ringing and you know without a doubt who it is, but you can’t answer him because you might have lost it in the pile of clothes on your bed and floor.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss to yourself repeatedly as you rummage through the clothes, the ringing of your phone becoming more persistent if that’s even possible. Then it stops ringing before you have the chance to locate it. You continue to look as you sigh, knowing it will most likely ring again in a few seconds. But it doesn’t. Instead there’s a knock on your door. You glance down at your body. 

“Great, still naked,” you groan to yourself and move to the door, opening it and revealing your curly-haired best friend (who may you mention looks exceptionally good in his ripped blue jeans, black hoodie and white sneakers). He marches into your room before you even get to greet him. You close the door after him before turning to look at him. You grip the towel tightly, terrified it will fall if you let go. And cause a very awkward situation for you and Jeongguk.

“What’s taking you so long? We have to-” Jeongguk stops as he turns to face you, just now realising you’re only wrapped in a towel and not fully dressed at all. “Oh.”

Your lips turn into a straight line, nodding. “Yep.”

His cheeks turn a slight red color as he quickly turns back around, his back to you. “Sorry,” he then says. You laugh at his embarrassment, clearly not as fazed about this as him. And he’s supposed to be the girl magnet, you think to yourself.

“Calm down, Gguk. I decided to let you in even though I’m basically naked, so really, don’t worry about it.”

He glances at you over his shoulder, not even slightly discreet about the way he looks you up and down. You feel your cheeks slightly heat up, noticing the way his eyes linger on your hand which is still clutching the towel tightly. It has been almost 9 months since you met Jeongguk at the frat party and there has been a slight tension of something you can’t quite decipher ever since. There have been more than several moments like these where Jeongguk is staring at you a bit too long or his touch lingers on you for a while longer than they probably were supposed to. You always shrug it off, not thinking too much of it because it’s probably all in your head anyway.

Jeongguk sits himself down on your bed, gesturing to the bathroom. “Well, get dressed already. Jimin’s performance is in like 30 minutes.”

“Right!” You shriek, now remembering what the purpose of your shower was. 

Jimin is Jeongguk’s best friend from high school and is a year ahead of you and Jeongguk at the same college. Jimin is a dance major, doing all kinds of dances varying from hiphop to contemporary and so on. He’s truly talented and even more of a sweetheart. You met him one night a few months back when you joined Jeongguk and his group of friends at a karaoke bar. You hit it off with Jimin in particular that night, and your friendship has only been getting better ever since.

Jeongguk watches with a lopsided smile as you scurry back to the bathroom to dry your hair. You haven’t even decided on an outfit yet. “What do I even wear?”

On your bed, Jeongguk is looking through your clothes. He holds up a red skirt without thinking, just simply liking the color of it.. “What about this?” He calls out to you, having no idea at all what you could possibly wear to go see a dance performance. You open the bathroom door slightly to look at him and the piece of clothing in his hand.

“A flaming red miniskirt?” You question, raising a single eyebrow at him. He catches your tone and drops it to the floor, looking for something else.

He tries again as he holds up a pair of light denim jeans with a cute, hesitating smile on his face. “Jeans?”

You grin, nodding, “much better.”

The place is crowded once you and Jeongguk arrive at the theatre where Jimin is going to perform. You look around, trying to see if you can spot Jimin. You want to wish him good luck before he gets on stage. Just as you locate him, he looks up and locks eyes with you. You wave excitingly, grabbing Jeongguk’s arm and pulling him towards his own best friend. Jeongguk lets you drag him along with a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Jimin beamed, hugging you tightly. You smile as Jimin gives you a light squeeze before pulling away.

Jeongguk grins at his best friend. “We wouldn’t miss it, hyung.”

Jimin pats Jeongguk on the shoulder in an appreciative manner. “Well, take a seat. The show is starting in 15 minutes or so,” he gestures to the seats, “I have to get backstage before the stylists have my ass for not being ready on time.”

You chuckle, not surprised that Jimin is one to always struggle with being on time. It has happened once or twice before.

“Good luck!” You make sure to tell him. Beside you, Jeongguk offers his hyung an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Jimin gives your hand a squeeze before heading off to backstage. You both watch him run off, the stylist already smacking his arm as she tells him to sit down. You glance at Jeongguk who’s already laughing because of his best friend. “Where do you wanna sit?” You ask him.

He shrugs, “you decide, I’m happy anywhere.” You nod and purse your lips, looking over the theatre.

“Let’s just sit here,” you point to the seats right beside you. Jeongguk agrees, his hand coming up to rest against the small of your back as to tell you to sit first. Your skin tingles underneath your shirt at his touch, his hand strong but soft on you and lingering a tad bit longer than necessary. You sit down, Jeongguk plopping down beside you. His hand is resting on the armrest between the two of you and it takes all in you to not let your own rest on top of his.

To say your crush on Jeongguk had become less and less the past 9 months would be a total lie. If anything, it has only become worse and yet you can’t get yourself to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s still the ‘Jeon’ you met at the party almost a year ago, his fuckboy tendencies coming through once in a while and you’ve seen girls leave his room in the morning when you’d arrive at his place to hang out. And it hurt slightly every single time but you’ve never considered telling him why it hurts. He doesn’t even know it hurts you. But then again, here he is on a Saturday night, spending his evening with you to watch Jimin’s dance performance when in reality, he has seen Jimin perform multiple times. More times than he can count and it’s nothing new to him. He could be balls deep in some random girl right now and yet he’s here. With you. And his leg is brushing against yours, his shoulder is also touching you. It would be so easy to just tangle your fingers through his but your insecurities and doubt stop you from doing anymore. You sigh deeply, leaning back in your seat.

Jeongguk notices the heavy sigh you let out, looking at you with slight worry in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You nod, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” you answer him, a small yawn escaping your lips. It was partly true. You can tell he doesn’t quite believe you but decides against it, not wanting to push you into telling him.

Jimin’s performance starts right then. The lights dimmed down as he appears on stage along with a group of other people, his dance team that consists of other guys. Some of them are also Jeongguk’s friends; Taehyung and Hoseok. You watch with wide, exciting eyes, feeling very proud of Jimin for finally doing this performance when you know how much he has been working on it and how time consuming it has been for him. What you don’t notice throughout the entire performance is that Jeongguk is occasionally watching you instead of the performance, his heart beating just a tad bit faster whenever you almost catch him.

When Jimin finishes and bows to the crowd, you stand up for an applause, smiling widely as he thanks everyone by bowing one more time and then heading off stage.

Jeongguk taps your shoulder, motioning his head as if to tell you to leave. “Let’s go find him,” he says over the music that’s still playing. You nod, grabbing your things and following right behind. You squeal, happy and excited as you spot Jimin by the stage. He turns around just as you reach him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Jeongguk stands by behind you, watching you hug the living shit out of his best friend. It doesn’t feel right, he thinks to himself.

“You were amazing!” You cheered, squeezing him tightly as he did to you earlier. He laughs at your gushing excitement as you pull apart, thanking you and flashing you that charming smile of his.

Jimin glances at Jeongguk, smiling lips falling into a straight line. You don’t notice but Jeongguk is glaring at Jimin and Jimin knows exactly why. He scratches the back of his head, glancing back at his team before looking back at you and Jeongguk.

“We, um, we’re headed to a bar downtown. You guys wanna join?”

You look at Jeongguk briefly before smiling at Jimin, nodding, “sure.”

“Great! We’re leaving in a few, I just need to pack up my stuff,” Jimin grins and heads over to his team. You spot two people that you know — Hoseok and Taehyung. Taehyung caught your eye a lot during the performance, his mop of curly black hair stood out a lot and the way he was so into the performance and the mood of the songs. Truly mesmerising. 

Jeongguk clears his throat beside you, letting you know that he’s still right beside you. Your cheeks heat up at the possible chance of being caught ogling a bit too long at Taehyung. 

“Let’s go,” you pipe up, leaving Jeongguk’s side to go find Jimin again. The tension that’s starting to form is too intense for you right now. You feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you as you walk away and up to Jimin. Jeongguk’s heart drops a little when he can tell that you decide to walk with Jimin all the way to the bar downtown. He doesn’t get to stand there and grumble too long because Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to pull him along, dragging him in the same direction you and Jimin left in.

Your laughter sounds like a sweet melody to Jeongguk as he watches you from his seat at the bar, laughing at something Taehyung says to you. You’ve been sitting beside Taehyung for the past two hours, laughing and having a good time which is great but Jeongguk doesn’t like how close to you Taehyung is sitting and he certainly doesn’t like the way you have to touch Taehyung’s arm every time you laugh at something he says. Jeongguk takes a swig of his beer as Jimin plops down on the seat beside him. Jimin follows his line of sight, sighing deeply once he realizes what has caused him to become so quiet. 

“Dude, you’re gonna burn holes in their skulls if you keep staring like that,” Jimin calls out, snapping Jeongguk out of his own thoughts.

Jeongguk sighs, taking his eyes off you and Taehyung. “Yeah,” he trails off.

Eyeing him carefully, Jimin places a hand on his shoulder. “If it’s that bad, why don’t you just go talk to her?” He suggests, the tone sounding hesitant.

Jeongguk glances at Jimin. “You know I can’t do that,” he grumbles, turning his back to you and Taehyung, facing the bar instead. 

Jimin nods as he remembers why. “Sure, but can you explain it to me again? I still don’t see the point.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair only for it to fall back into his eyes. He really needed a haircut soon, he thinks to himself.

“I can’t tell her how I feel because that’d ruin our friendship and I’d rather have her be my friend than nothing at all,” he explains to Jimin as if it’s obvious. And it was true. Jeongguk’s straight up terrified that you’ll find out how he really feels about you and then proceed to end your friendship. It’s a risk he isn’t willing to take, maybe someday but just not yet.

Jimin hums to himself. “What if she feels the same then?” Jeongguk stays silent. “Ever thought about that possibility?”

Shaking his head, he sighs, almost sounding like he has given up on you already. “Listen, I just know that she doesn’t. She wouldn’t be over there with Tae right now if that was the case- Ow! What the hell was that for?”

He rubs the back of his head, pouting lightly at his best friend. Jimin shakes his head. “You’re dumber than I thought,” he concludes before getting up from his seat and heading back to the table where the rest of his dance team is sitting. 

Jeongguk slumps in his seat, dropping his head into his hand. Jimin is right; he really is dumb. But as he glances back at you and sees the wide smile on your face, the same smile he can get out of you with his stupid jokes and goofy faces, he just knows that he wouldn’t be able to live without you even if it meant he got to tell you how he really feels. Jeongguk turns his back to the scene that is you and Taehyung again, finishing his bottle of beer before ordering a new one.

It isn’t even him who walks you home to your dorm that night. Taehyung gets the chance and swoops right in, offering to walk you home. You let him without hesitation and Jeongguk can only stand back, watching you walk off with Taehyung by your side. And it doesn’t go unnoticed, neither by him or Jimin, that you also forgot to hug your best friend goodnight. Jimin offers Jeongguk an apologetic smile, patting his shoulder and wishing him a good night before heading home with Hoseok, who’s also his roommate besides being his teammate.

Jeongguk is pretty sure everyone who passes by him on his way home can hear the sound of his heart breaking a bit more for every step he takes. But what does it matter? You don’t want this broken heart anyway.

“I’m thinking about moving out of the frat house.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you choke on the coffee Jeongguk had just served you, coughing lightly and holding a “one second” hand up to Jeongguk who looks at you worried. Once your coughing dies down, you look at him, still surprised.

“You what?”

Jeongguk chuckles in his seat across from you. “I don’t feel like staying at the frat house anymore,” he shrugs, “I earn enough from working here to find my own place.”

Jeongguk’s little part time job at the campus café actually does pay him a good amount of money, but you wouldn’t expect anything else since he’s here more than he’s in class. The hours he dedicates to this place also gives him the right to chill in a booth with you during his shift because the owner of the shop gives him that much freedom. He has her hooked around his little finger and she doesn’t even know it. You smile at the thought, knowing very well that every single woman — old and young — would let Jungkook do whatever he wants after being flashed that charming smile of his. You guess that’s just the way his charms work.

“What’s on your mind?” Jeongguk asks, tapping your forehead to get you back to earth.

Your cheeks turn pink, “sorry.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, eyes glinting like they always do behind that long hair. “Actually, I already found a place I would like to rent, it’s not far from campus and it’s the perfect size even though it’s a 3-bedroom apartment,” he tells you. You smile, happy for him.

“That’s great, Gguk!” You beamed. “I’m happy for you.”

He did say 3-bedroom apartment though. Does that mean he’ll get himself a roommate? Your head fills with possible options for a roommate for him. Jimin could be a good one, but he already lives off campus with Hoseok. Taehyung lives by himself in a studio apartment, so that wasn’t an option either. He could ask that other guy he sometimes hangs out with, that one from his photography class and his frat house too. Namjoon, was it? You purse your lips, several faces showing up in your mind. Jeongguk clears his throat across from you, bringing you back once again.

“You’re zoning out a lot today,” he states, concern covering his face. You chuckle. 

“I was just thinking about who you could ask to be your roommate,” you tell him and Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak up but you continue, “most of your friends already live off campus but you could ask that Namjoon fella, he still lives in the frat house, right?”

Jeongguk nods.

“He seems like a nice guy,” you ponder, finger tapping your chin. “You could just find some stranger too, but that’s quite a risk, isn’t it? Personally, I would prefer someone I know already, but you do you.”

You hear him sigh in defeat as you ramble on. “Or what about-”

Jeongguk cuts you off. “I already know who I’m gonna ask,” he blurts.

“Oh.” You fall silent. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, “she’s rambling her ass off right now and she does that a lot to be honest, so I don’t know if I still wanna ask her.”

Your cheeks are burning as Jeongguk smirks at you, knowing very well that you’re aware he’s talking about you. Composing yourself, you sit upright in your seat. “Well, what if she doesn’t wanna move out of her dorm?”

Jeongguk chuckles sarcastically. “Oh, but she does,” he snickered, “with the amount of times she has complained about the shitty shower in her room, I’m convinced she’s just waiting for the opportunity to get out of there.” 

“Am not!” You defend yourself even though you know he’s right. 

Jeongguk laughs. “Shut up.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended but you can’t hold the act for long as you burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. I really do hate that shower.”

“Thought so,” Jeongguk smirks lightly. He stands from his seat, knowing he has to get back to work before the customers think he’s some lazy barista. He offers you another one of those charming smiles of his. “You’re my best friend, ___. I can’t imagine anyone else in that room other than you. So just think about it, yeah?”

You nod, smiling. You watch him walk off, heading for the cashier. He moves around the counter, patting the other cute barista boy (he’s a sophomore and he basically idolizes Jeongguk) on the shoulder as he passes by him and continues out to the back of the café. You turn back to your laptop and books, smiling to yourself as you take another sip of your coffee, made (with a tiny amount of love, but you don’t know that) by Jeongguk.

You don’t get too much time to yourself and your assignment before a certain dancer slips into the seat Jeongguk was in previously. You glance up at Jimin, who’s smiling slyly at you. You give him a confused but curious look, closing your laptop screen. “What?”

He nods his head in Jeongguk’s direction. “Did he ask you?”

“Asked me what?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

You shrug. “He did,” you squint at him as he cheers, clapping his hands.

“Well,” he gushes, “did you say yes?” His excitement is bouncing off the walls as he leans over the table. You’re close to getting a whiplash from his quickly changing expression as you watch his face fall not even two seconds later. “Did you say no? Why?”

You shake your head, not able to keep up with him. “Calm down, will you? I didn’t even get to answer you.”

Jimin breathes out and slumps back in his seat. “Sorry,” he pouts but grins nevertheless, “I’m just excited.”

“You don’t say,” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t give him an answer yet, he told me to think about it.”

Across from you, Jimin smiles at you - his smile hinting at something. You let out a small groan. “Jimin! I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m not gonna do it.”

“What?” Jimin exclaims, hands up in surrender. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

Now it’s your time to roll your eyes because yes, you do in fact know what he’s about to say. Jimin has been pestering you ever since he met you about the fact that you’re ‘pining’ after Jeongguk, your feelings on your sleeve and obvious to anyone around you, except for Jeongguk. The fact that you haven’t even told Jimin how you feel about Jeongguk just shows how well Jimin reads people and apparently you’re like an open book, especially to Jimin. Not to certain others.

“Have you ever thought about the possibility that he might like you too?” Jimin questions you, the same question he asked Jeongguk at the bar the other night. You nod your head at this, sighing deeply in exasperation.

“I have, Jimin, I really have,” you mumble, “but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way. I can just tell that I’m nothing but a good friend to him.”

Jimin might scream at the both of you very soon. How blind and stupid can people actually be?

“If you say so,” he backtracks. You lean back in your seat, pen coming up to lay between your teeth. You bite on it as you stare at nothing in particular, Jeongguk is filling up your brain like he lives there rent free. “Look, ___,” Jimin catches your attention again, “accept his offer, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

He gives you a friendly, comforting smile and a squeeze of your hand before he gets up. He waves at Jeongguk who stands behind the counter again before leaving the café. His words linger around you. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.” Jimin had said and you wonder why he would say that. You know Jeongguk quite well even after less than a year as friends; what could possibly surprise you at this point?

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to live in the same place as Jeongguk. This thought has appeared in your head for the past hours since you left the café. Now you’re sitting here, in your bed with a Netflix show, which you’re not paying attention to, running through several episodes. Jeongguk’s proposition has been raking up your mind since he left you to yourself at the café. It’s like he knew you would have to think about it when he told you to do exactly that.

And as you sit here, thoughts running at full speed, you try to come up with pros and cons for living under the same roof as your bff #1. Pros are that you get a nice shower every time you have to bath, you will live off Jeongguk’s delicious gastronomic talent and you’ll have your best friend close to you at all times. Cons would be the possibility of getting tired of each other even though you already spend five out of seven days together during the week. Another con would be witnessing girls leave his room and your apartment in the morning after having heard her scream his name all night. That specific thought makes a weird, not-so-great feeling appear in your stomach, making you frown deeply. But you will have to realize sooner or later that Jeongguk won’t ever see you that way and that this crush of yours is a lost cause. Maybe it really is time to just get over it. You sigh deeply, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to send Jeongguk a text.

you [11:38 pm]: i’ll do it, but you gotta make me delicious food every day

You wait for his reply, staring at your screen. Heart hammers wildly as three dots appear on the screen. Your breath hitches in your throat as you read his reply.

gguk [11:40 pm]: anything for you princess ;)

Jeongguk has never in these months of you knowing him, called you a nickname like that. And the way your cheeks blush as you imagine him saying it, tells on you. You love it.

Jeongguk groans as he puts down your last box on the floor of your new bedroom. It’s a box with all your English books and there’s a lot. “Have you even read all of these?”

You stop in your little project of hanging up all your precious polaroid pictures, turning to look at him. You scoff, lying as you say: “yes, of course.”

He smirks lightly, giving you a look that says ‘nice try’. You laugh to yourself, turning back around to your polaroids. 

Jeongguk plops down on your bed, head laying on his hands as he brings them up behind his head. Today is a day for the books, you thought to yourself when he first arrived along with Jimin to get all your boxes and shove them into Jimin’s tiny car. He’s wearing blue jeans again, which you absolutely love on him, and he has styled them simply with a black t-shirt, showing off his tattooed right arm. You’ve been staring at him quite a few times since you arrived at the apartment you and Jeongguk have rented together. And it wasn’t helping how his arms kept flexing as he carried your boxes with all your shit up to your new bedroom.

He watches you in silence as you hang up the polaroids, standing with one in particular a bit longer. You smile as you reach down, showing it to him. “It’s us,” you smile softly.

Jeongguk takes the polaroid from your fingers, holding it closer to his face to see it better. It’s a polaroid photo taken at the Han River from that one night where you went out to eat dinner with his friends and some of your girlfriends. You had brought your polaroid camera along, hoping to catch some memories with it tonight. Jeongguk had noticed it that evening, grabbing it from your purse and snapping a ‘selfie’ of the two of you.

He smiles at the photo, remembering that evening as clear as if it was yesterday. That evening was one of the first times Jeongguk realized that he was indeed absolutely smitten by you and that you had him wrapped around your finger. You just didn’t know and you still don’t. “That was a great night,” he reminisces, handing you the photo back. You hang it up on the wall, right in the middle of all the others.

“Yeah,” you sigh deeply, “it was.”

Jeongguk claps his hands on his thighs as he sits up on the edge of your bed. You plop down beside him. “Pizza for dinner?” He suggests.

You nod frantically, “yes, please.”

And that’s how you and Jeongguk end up on the couch, watching that stupid movie with Gong Yoo. You’re completely sucked into that movie, mouth open in awe as you watch Gong Yoo unfolding his charms on the tv-screen. “Wow,” you breathe out as he kisses the main female character. Jeongguk scoffs from beside you, rolling his eyes before dropping his head backwards. The ceiling is more interesting than that ridiculous movie.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with this guy?” he asks, looking back at the screen again.

You shoot him a glare. “Are you sure you're not jealous?”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended by your words as he places a hand over his heart. “Am not!”

“Am too!” You laugh, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Admit it, you don’t like Gong Yoo because he’s getting a lot more attention than you.”

Scoffing again, Jeongguk knows that’s a lie and suddenly feeling like he needs to prove a point. He has girls waiting for him, not that you don’t know that. He smirks at you and says: “You know that’s a big fat lie, ___.”

You cock a brow at him. “You’re so full of yourself,” you scoff and get off the couch, taking the pizza boxes with you to clean up, “and you’re jealous, it’s obvious.”

Jeongguk scoffs right back at you as he gets up to follow you into the kitchen. “I am not jealous of some actor,” he states, “I have no reason to be.” You sigh to yourself, your back facing him as he leans in the doorway to the kitchen. You know very well that he has no reason to be jealous of some actor and you certainly don’t need him to remind you. He watches you clean up with a frown. “___.”

“What, Gguk?” You laugh humorlessly, turning to face him. “I get it, you’re hot and a woman magnet and so on, you don’t have to explain it to me.”

He smirks lightly, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to you. “Who’s the jealous one now?” He chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as he towers over you. You groan and push at him, making him take a step back from you.

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled, moving around him and out of the kitchen. Jeongguk watches you walk away towards your bedroom. “Goodnight, roomie,” you call out, waving a hand over your head without glancing back at him. There was a tone of sarcasm in your voice. The door to your bedroom being closed as Jeongguk sighs to himself, wandering his way to his own bedroom. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s asleep. The day must’ve been more tiring than he had thought. A nice memory of him and a pretty girl at the Han River fills up his mind as he dozes off into the night.

The next morning you’re sitting at the dining table, laptop and books out. Your reading glasses are resting on the bridge of your nose and your hair is in a messy bun, making you look relaxed as you study for whatever class you have coming up. Jeongguk strolls out of his bedroom, no shirt… only a pair of grey sweatpants. You glance at him as he passes by you, heading directly for the fridge. You can hear him rustle around for a bowl and a spoon. A minute later he joins you at the dining table, a bowl of fruit loops in front of him.

“Morning,” he says softly, voice still hoarse from waking up. Your stomach tingles at the sound and you mentally slap yourself for being such a wimp for him. You don’t give him a response, continuing to read in your book and type away on your laptop. You can feel him glancing at you occasionally as he eats his cereal. Jeongguk pouts lightly, sighing deeply as you don’t pay him any attention. This is not how he expected the first morning in the apartment to be like. He grumbles to himself for a bit, contemplating on what to say to fill out the silence that has overcome the two of you. An idea pops into his head. 

“Hey, I was thinking,” he starts, making you look at him briefly. You focus back on your laptop. Jeongguk falls silent.

“I’m listening,” you tell him, voice soft. “I just gotta finish this, but I’m listening.”

Jeongguk nods, hands fumbling. Why was he suddenly so nervous around you? There is absolutely no reason to be. Was it the tone from last time in which you had told him goodnight and then left him to himself that had him so on edge? He can’t really tell.

“I was thinking that we could have a small get-together with our friends, like a moving-in party?” He suggests. This idea actually sounds interesting, you think to yourself as you look back at him. Jeongguk smiles softly, continuing: “We can just invite the guys I usually hang with and then you can invite Lisa and Jisoo?”

You nod, smiling. “That does sound fun,” you agree on his idea, “let’s do it.”

A grin appears on Jeongguk’s lips. “Tonight? If people are able to make it with such short notice?”

Again, you nod. “I’m sure they don’t have more important stuff to attend on this Saturday evening,” you chuckle, knowing your friends and the fact that they rarely have much to do except for school, work and hanging out with each other. Same goes for Jeongguk’s friends. 

“You’re right,” Jeongguk laughs, feeling more at ease now that you’ve joked around with him a bit instead of just sitting there in silence and not really noticing him. It feels better when you laugh, joke around and talk like you usually do without the annoyed and slightly jealous tone. “I’ll text around, asking them to come over tonight.”

You nod lightly, watching him get up from his seat and bringing his cereal bowl to the kitchen. “Remember to tell them to bring their own alcohol! We have nothing in this house yet,” you call out, chuckling slightly. You really didn’t. You almost didn’t have any food either. Maybe today calls for a shopping trip to the supermarket. You turn back to your laptop, eager to finish the assignment and then getting to the supermarket to buy snacks and some food for your empty kitchen cupboards. Maybe Jeongguk can join you on the trip there.

“You think this is enough?” Jeongguk wonders out loud as he places the bowls of snacks down on the coffee table. You join him a few seconds later, a bunch of glasses in your arms for the beverage. Jeongguk notices you joggling all those glasses, rushing to your side with wide eyes to take some from you.

“Thanks,” you softly say, letting him take most of the glasses and placing them down on the table as well. He smiles sweetly in return. “I think it’s enough, we have a few extra chips bags in the cupboard.”

“Perfect,” Jeongguk grins, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in excitement. “This is gonna be fun, I didn’t expect everyone to say yes but they’re literally all coming here in like ten minutes.”

You chuckle softly, making Jeongguk’s stomach do small backflips. He ignores them as he plops down on the couch. “I’m excited,” you sigh, plopping down beside him.

Jeongguk nods, smiling still. “Me too,” he murmurs.

You and Jeongguk fall into small-talk as you wait for your guests to arrive. A bit more than ten minutes pass and the first guest knocks on the door. Jeongguk gets up to let them in, not getting to say much before he’s engulfed in a tight hug by Hoseok. “Hey man,” Hoseok grins, squeezing Jeongguk tightly. He pats him on the back before letting go and walking further inside. Jimin and Taehyung follow right behind, both giving Jeongguk one of those guy hugs.

You lock eyes with Taehyung, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He lets go of Jeongguk to make his way to you, smiling widely. He looks really good, you think to yourself as he stops in front of you. His dark hair was curlier and more unruly than the last time you saw him which was only a few days ago. His smile was wide and bright as always, and his eyes a warm, dark brown. “Hey,” he greets you, smiling.

“Hi,” you reply, leaning closer to give him a hug. Jeongguk is closing the door behind Jimin as he glances your way and notices how Taehyung is already at your side, hugging you. He feels himself become slightly frustrated but Jimin is quick to push a hand against his chest, stopping him from walking over to you and make himself look stupid.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head at Jeongguk, eyeing him down until Jeongguk looks slightly less like he could punch Taehyung in the face right now. His jealousy is starting to get the best of him. He watches you, noticing how you smile that specific smile whenever you get flustered or complimented. Jimin glances in the direction of you and Taehyung, sighing as he looks back at Jeongguk. “You don’t get to be like this, Gguk. Not when you haven’t done anything to get her yourself.”

Jeongguk breathes out deeply, taking his eyes away from the relationship that’s starting to unfold in front of his eyes. Jimin is right, once again. He has no right to get all worked up and angry at the thought of you with Taehyung. At least Taehyung has the balls to actually flirt with you. Jeongguk feels like it backfires every time he tries to. Maybe it just isn’t meant to be you and him. With one glance at you and Taehyung, he joins Jimin in the kitchen to get himself a beer.

The night goes on, the rest of your friends arriving not long after Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin. Lisa and Jisoo sit with you at the dining table, having fun as all of you laugh loudly at whatever you’re talking about. Jeongguk has been watching you tonight more than he’d like to admit, almost being caught a few times. But he was quick enough to look away before you could lock eyes with him. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your friends had arrived which made his heart fall a bit further into his stomach. 

You glance in his direction, smiling softly. Jeongguk smiles back at you, deciding to get up and talk to you for the first time in hours. Grabbing his beer off the table, he’s about to get up and make his way to you, but he quickly stops in his tracks. Taehyung appears out of nowhere, standing close to you. His hands are resting on your shoulders as you look up at him. He smiles and says something Jeongguk can’t make out. You get up from your seat, letting Taehyung take your hand in his and guide you to the small balcony that is in you and Jeongguk’s apartment. 

Jeongguk doesn’t notice Lisa and Jisoo looking at him, sad smiles on their faces as his face drops and he heads for the kitchen instead, walking past them. You nor Jeongguk knows that the two girls are secretly rooting for the two of you to finally get out of your heads and actually date. It has been too long of this pining after one another, but you’re both in denial no matter how much either Lisa, Jisoo, Jimin or whoever it is, tells you to confess to each other. Lisa gets up from her seat, letting Jisoo know she’ll be right back. 

Lisa sighs deeply at the sight when she enters the kitchen. Jeongguk is hunched over the kitchen counter, head in his hands. She walks up to him, leaning against the counter beside him. Jeongguk senses her presence, grumbling lightly. “What?”

She scoffs, throwing a slap to his back causing him to stand up and face her. He glares at her, but he doesn’t say anything as he leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He’s frowning deeply, looking at the floor. “What’s going on with you?” Lisa asks, even though she knows what’s up. Jeongguk glances quickly at her before diverting his gaze back to the floor.

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

Lisa scoffs again, not believing any of his bullshit. “Bullshit, Jeon. I know this is about ___.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of your name. He’s about to have had enough of talking about you and his feelings for you. Jeongguk is quite literally wearing his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see and yet you’re the only one who doesn’t notice. “I just needed a moment to myself,” he mumbles, sighing deeply before taking a swig of his 4th or 5th beer of tonight.

Lisa nods, “I get that. I mean, she did go with Tae just as you were about to approach her.”

“Yup,” Jeongguk pops the ‘p’, another sip of his beer down his throat. “She’s with Tae, probably already head over heels for him.”

The annoyance in his tone and the slight disgust makes Lisa sigh. “Listen, Jeongguk, you’re doing nothing. You walk around, hang out with her and now you live with her and she still doesn’t know. ___ is blind as hell and she won’t know about your feelings if you don’t acknowledge them yourself.”

“I know,” Jeongguk groans, “but I just don’t- I don’t think she’ll ever see me like I see her.”

Lisa pats his shoulder, giving him a smile that probably is supposed to comfort him but it only makes him feel like she’s pitying him. “Just think about telling her how you feel instead of getting hurt every time someone else does what you could be doing.”

And with that, she leaves him alone in the kitchen again. Staying in his place for a few minutes, he contemplates going out to the balcony and demanding to talk to you, even if it means he has to interrupt your conversation with Taehyung. He empties his beer, leaving it behind as he makes his way to the balcony. He opens the door slightly, slipping outside to see you there with your hand in Taehyung’s. His face drops a little along with his heart. He covers it well with a small smile, his heart hammering hard inside his chest still.

“Hey Tae,” he says, “can I steal ___ for a bit?”

Taehyung nods at his younger friend, looking back at you. “So Friday then?” Taehyung smiles at you.

Friday? What happens Friday?

Jeongguk looks at you, awaiting your answer like Taehyung. “Yep,” you nod, smiling softly back at the curly-haired man in front of you.

“Awesome, it’s a date then,” he grins and lets go of your hand, heading back inside. Jeongguk moves to the side, letting Taehyung through the door. You glance at your roommate slash best friend, watching him as he moves closer. Silence overcomes you for the second time today and Jeongguk finds it unbearable. There’s usually never silence between you or around you, only when you have study dates and even then you always end up chatting instead of actually studying. 

Jeongguk clears his throat to break the silence. “So a date, huh?”

You look at him, a small hesitant smile on your lips but it looks closer to being a frown than an actual smile. “Yeah,” you trail off, finger fumbling as you lean over the balcony fence. Jeongguk’s hands are in his pockets but he feels them itching, dying to grab your fumbling ones.

“He’s a great guy,” Jeongguk suddenly blurts. You look at him confused. “Taehyung, I mean.”

You nod slowly, wondering where this conversation is going.

“But he loves girls, ___,” he rambles on, “you know, like, he has a hard time focusing on just one.”

Your face becomes hard, slightly offended on Taehyung’s behalf as the words leave Jeongguk’s mouth. “Oh, so he’s like you?”

Jeongguk falls silent at your words and it feels like a low blow. He sighs and frowns, looking away from you, staring at the almost empty street below. You can’t help but feel slightly guilty from saying that but it’s not a lie. Jeongguk has a booty call or two during the week, always having someone to contact whenever he needs his dick wet. But you still feel bad for firing off such a harsh comment.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, softly touching his bicep before heading back inside, leaving Jeongguk alone on the balcony.

You’re right, he thinks, but it’s only you who actually matters to him.

Two months have passed since your moving-in party, and things have been a bit tense around the apartment ever since. Taehyung has visited the apartment more often than any of your shared friends, but not for Jeongguk’s company. No, yours. And even though Jeongguk really has no say in your relationship with Taehyung, he still can’t help himself as he finds it ridiculous. He can tell you’re not as much in it as Taehyung is and it’s quite painful to watch. Why you’re not as into it as him is still a mystery to Jeongguk.

Today is no different as Jeongguk sits on the couch, watching his favorite cartoon when the doorbell rings. He groans lowly as he gets up from the couch to open the door. Taehyung appears in front of him, his big and unruly curly hair taking all the attention. Dude should get a haircut, Jeongguk thinks to himself as he leaves the door open for Taehyung to enter. 

“Hey man,” Taehyung greets Jeongguk, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Is ___ home?”

Jeongguk cocks a single eyebrow. Shouldn’t he have checked that before coming here. “She’s in the shower,” he tells Taehyung, plopping back down on the couch. Taehyung nods, thanking him quietly before heading for your bedroom. Jeongguk watches him, grumbling under his breath because he’s starting to get tired of seeing Taehyung’s face that often during the week. He sighs to himself, trying to focus on his cartoon show instead of the sounds of you giggling inside your room.

Long hours pass before Jeongguk hears Taehyung leaving, the clock striking eleven in the evening before he’s out of you and Jeongguk’s apartment. He did leave quite in a rush though, making Jeongguk curious. He leaves his laptop on as he gets up from his bed to go to your bedroom. He knocks on your slightly opened door, peeking inside. You’re nowhere to be seen making him frown and furrow his eyebrows. He hears shuffling in the kitchen as he moves to the living room. When he reaches the doorway to the kitchen, he leans against it. You’re moving around, rummaging through the cupboards for something, dressed in pajamas shorts and an oversized t-shirt, one that looks awfully a lot like one of his.

“What are you looking for?” Jeongguk calls out, making you jump in surprise. You hold a hand to your chest as you turn to look at him, eyes wide. Jeongguk smirks lightly at your shocked expression, noticing the light blush that appears on your cheeks.

You turn your back to him to continue to look through the cupboards. “Just some snacks, I’m craving some right now,” you tell your best friend who you have no idea is just behind you. You freeze in your actions as Jeongguk reaches up to grab his usual snack off the top shelf. He hands it to you, smiling softly. You squint at him, wondering why he’s giving you his favorite snacks and the last pack at that.

As if he can read your mind: “You can have them if you want.”

Smiling, you open the pack and pop one into your mouth, the crispy consistency making you sigh in content. Jeongguk laughs at your happy expression, knowing the way to your heart is usually through food. 

You grab another piece, holding it up to Jeongguk’s lips. He glances at it before opening his mouth and letting you feed him. His eyes are on yours the entire time as his lips brush your fingertips. Your heart leaps, making you pull your fingers back quickly. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles, chewing the snack with the same happy expression you sported just moments ago.

“Let’s talk,” you suddenly blurt out, Jeongguk looking confused which causes you to explain further. “We haven’t like talked talked in a long time, so uh yeah, let’s talk?”

Your declaration has turned into a hesitant question as you wait, needing some kind of response.

“Sure,” he shrugs, smiling again. As he turns on his heel, you smile back and follow him into the living room. You plop down beside him on the couch, unintentionally letting your legs rest against his thigh as you pull them up under you. He glances at your bare legs for a second before diverting his eyes to you. “So what do you wanna talk about?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, life?”

Jeongguk chuckles, “life?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling at him, “yes, life.”

He purses his lips, wondering if there’s anything to tell. You basically know most things already and not much has happened the past weeks except for the fact that his little ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ hasn’t resolved at all, and that he’s still hopelessly in love with you even though you have a boyfriend now. Which still seems surreal to him because it’s one of his friends whom he usually likes but not right now because well, yeah, he’s dating you. But there’s no way he’s actually going to tell you all of that.

“I don’t have anything to say,” he decides on saying, pouting playfully. You chuckle at his facial expression. He smiles at you, eyes going soft because you’re sitting so close to him for the first time in a long time and he feels relaxed. More relaxed than he has been for a while.

“Nothing much for me either,” you sigh, moving the pack of snacks closer to Jeongguk so he can eat some. “Tae asked me to come home with him for the fall break, he wants me to meet his parents.” You leave out the part where you broke up with Taehyung.

Jeongguk’s movements come to a halt, one banana crisp inches away from entering his mouth. “Really?”

You nod. Jeongguk notices how your tone was slightly hesitating and off as you told him about Taehyung’s request.

“Isn’t it a bit…” he trails off, not knowing which words to use without sounding like an asshole. You watch him as he searches for the words.

“A bit what, Gguk?” You press.

He sighs. “A bit over the top, maybe?”

You scoff lightly, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeongguk panics as you move a bit away, your legs no longer touching his. You give him a look that tells him to explain what he means. He sits up, elbows resting on his knees. “Listen, I just think it’s a bit unnecessary since it’s obvious that this relationship isn’t as important to you than it is to Tae.”

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, voice stern. Jeongguk is right, but you’re not gonna tell him that. He hasn’t been talking much to you for the past months hence he has no idea what he’s talking about because you haven’t told him anything about your now ended relationship with Taehyung. Call you bitter, you don’t care. Your best friend hasn’t shown any interest in your life whatsoever for two months now and yes, you’re blaming him for the tension there is in this home.

Jeongguk lets out a small groan in frustration, “but I do, ___! I do know,” he insisted, turning to fully face you, “I can tell because you’re not looking at him the way he looks at you, you’re not fully there every time he’s kissing you goodbye by the door before he leaves. I’ve witnessed it enough to know that you don’t feel the same as he does.”

You’re silent as he talks, listening to everything he says but still holding onto the bitterness that you have for him in regards to his little to no interest in you for two whole months.

“Don’t you dare deny it, ____,” he snapped, “I know you and you don’t love him.”

Punch him. You want to punch him for knowing you so damn well and for seeing right through you. And you want to punch him for being so dumb and blind that he still hasn’t figured out why you’re not in love with Taehyung. How can he not see that he’s the one you love? You’ve been wearing your heart on your sleeve for the entire summer and more, slowly falling in love with him ever since that night he brought you to the frozen yoghurt shop downtown.

“You’re right. I don’t love him,” you mumble under your breath. Jeongguk glances at you, eyes still filled with a small amount of frustration and anger, all directed at you and only you. “But you have no right to tell me this when you haven’t been interested in me and my life for two fucking months, Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, his heart slowly starting to beat faster because why are you fighting? What the hell just happened? “Wha-” 

You get up from your seat, moving further away from him and Jeongguk feels like you’re slipping right through his fingertips even though he hasn’t ever been the one to hold you. But he should have, he should’ve been the one to hold you from the start.

“You don’t get to do this, not now when we haven’t really spoken to each other for so long,” you jabbed, “it’s my fault too, but I don’t come at you for having several girls over, do I?”

Jeongguk sighs, running his hands over his face in aggravation. “___, you’re overreacting. I wasn’t trying to tell you anything, I was just-”

“No, Jeongguk. No,” you shake your head, sneering at him. “I don’t need you to tell me or suggest anything, I don’t need your input and I don’t need you to make a decision!”

Jeongguk gets up, moving towards you, face twisting in anger. “Tell me, ___. What is he to you, huh? What is he?”

You glare at him, eyes hard on like his own and you don’t falter one moment. This anger and frustration has been a long time coming now, from both of you. “You’ve said he’s your boyfriend, but what is he really? Is he a fuckbuddy? Is he just someone to get yourself off with, huh?”

“No, Jeongguk, fuck you!” You shout, defending whatever it is that you have with Taehyung. “He’s good company, and no, I don’t see him like he sees me. He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

Jeongguk chuckles flatly, no humor behind it as he steps back from you. Hurt flashes across his face as he gets what you just said. “I see how it is,” he nods, giving you one last hurt look before retreating to his room. You stand back, hand coming up to cover your mouth as a cry rakes through your body. You didn’t know you had been holding back tears, the emotions you have for Jeongguk being poured out in the form of heavy tears in the middle of your living room. You’re frozen in your spot, sobs shaking you as you hold yourself. The sound of Jeongguk slamming his hand against the wall makes you move out of your frozen spot. You quickly make your way to your own bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

You slide under the covers, head feeling heavy as you let the tears fall. You didn’t intend to hurt Jeongguk the way you did, but you practically just shouted at him that you don’t like being around him, that his company isn’t good. It must’ve hurt him more than what you or he, himself, expected it to. You feel bad as you let your duvet engulf you whole, the taste of regret on your tongue as you keep repeating your own words in your head. 

“He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

How could you even say that when Jeongguk hasn’t been anything but great company for you? He has been even more than that, he has been a friend you needed more than you ever knew, a person so supportive and loving that you always felt like you had someone to come to whenever times were rough. And in the midst of all this, you managed to fall for him as well. He didn’t do much to make it happen, he was just himself from the very beginning of your friendship and you’ve seen sides to him not many people have witnessed and you know the real Jeon Jeongguk. The Jeongguk who loves his camera more than anything, the Jeongguk who loves food and snacks and banana milk as if he was five years old again. The Jeongguk who’s such a softie, when you first get to know him like you do, that half of it would be more than enough. The Jeongguk who loves with his entire being, always putting his loved ones before himself – including you.

You sigh deeply, hating yourself for shouting such inaccurate words at him. You had to make it up to him, apologize to him for being so inconsiderate when all he did was trying to make you realize that the relationship you have with Taehyung is a waste of time. Jeongguk is right, you know he is. You don’t love Taehyung and you know you never will. The feelings just aren’t there, they’re elsewhere with someone who’s been worthy of them since what feels like forever.

Sleep doesn't overcome you as you stay in bed, staring at the ceiling. You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, trying your very hardest to fall asleep ever since the fight you had with Jeongguk.You glance at the clock on your nightstand that’s reading 3 am — you have a morning lecture to attend in 6 hours. You let out a heavy sigh. Eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and your lips in a pout because why the fuck are you not able to sleep? Your eyes feel heavy from crying, but your best friend is taking up all your thoughts and the feelings you have for him are almost bursting out of your chest.

You groan to yourself as you roll over, pulling the duvet over your head. Closing your eyes, you try again for the umpteenth time. “I just wanna sleep,” you whine to yourself, but it’s no help. You give up on sleep.

You’re only half aware of what’s happening as you get out of bed and leave your bedroom, heading for Jeongguk’s bedroom. You stop in your tracks in front of his door. Maybe he’s also up, you think to yourself as you reach for the doorknob, turning it lightly. Peeking inside his dark room, you notice him fast asleep in his bed. You softly smile through the evident feeling of regret which is still heavy in your stomach. Without further thinking, you slip inside his room and close the door. You tiptoe over to his bed, glancing over him once again.

He looks peaceful, eyes shut and eyelashes touching the top of his cheek. Yet there’s a crease on his forehead and a slight frown upon his lips. The corner of your lips turn into a frown, copying his features unintentionally. Your eyes rake over the rest of his body. The duvet is only halfway covering him, from the waist and down. his naked chest is rising and falling as he breathes deeply. A soft tingle runs through your stomach as you carefully crawl onto his bed. You lift the duvet and slip under, sliding closer to him. He stirs in his sleep, turning over onto his side. you glance up at his face, noticing his eyes slightly open. You can barely see him in the darkness, but you can feel him looking at you.

“Hey,” he whispers into the darkness.

You smile, a sad smile, but he can’t see it. “Hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, voice soft yet hoarse. He moves a bit, trying to lay comfortably while creating more space for you. He’s careful not to touch you. 

You shake your head at his question. “Not really,” you mumble.

You scoot closer, hand reaching out to touch his that is lying between the two of you. “I’m sorry,” you whisper softly into the night. Jeongguk turns his hand, letting you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“For what?” He mutters quietly.

You breathe out shakily as Jeongguk is now the one to move closer to you. You let out a sigh, relaxing as his forehead rests against yours, his breathing clashing with your own.

“For the things I said, for shouting at you, for insulting you,” you explain, voice still soft and low as if someone outside would be able to hear you. “I didn’t mean any of it, I just-”

You stop yourself, hesitating. Should you just tell him? Tell him why you don’t love Taehyung when you have plenty of reasons to do so? Jeongguk senses the inner battle you’re having with yourself, his hand squeezing yours to let you know that you can tell him whatever it is that you have on your mind, reassuring you that he’s listening. “I don’t love Taehyung,” you sigh, “I broke up with him tonight… And there’s a pretty good reason for this.”

Jeongguk nods, humming in response because he already knows, it just took him insanely long to realize. Your thundering heart and shaky breath gave you away the moment he moved closer to you. Jeongguk is daring as he leans even closer, breath hitting your lips. You gasp lightly at the feeling of his lips ghosting yours, the skin of them softer than anything. His hand lets go of yours only to snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hand touches his bare chest, the almost new and fresh tattoo he got two weeks ago feeling rough yet soft under your touch. He’s holding you so close that you’re unconsciously holding your breath.

“I was so scared,” you whisper against his lips, hand moving up from his chest to the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush against his hair, his long and slightly curled hair soft like you had always imagined it to be. “Scared you wouldn’t say it back.”

The tension in the room is almost unbearable but in a good way. This is months of feelings, tension and longing all coming together and clashing right here in this moment. You feel breathless, like you can’t breathe but at the same time, you’re perfectly fine.

“Say what back, ___?”

His hand runs along your hip and to your thigh, hooking around it and bringing it around him to hug his waist. His crotch is almost touching yours and your breath hitches at the feeling. Jeongguk smirks to himself, knowing exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He loves taking your breath away like this, but he can think of another way, something he’s been dying to do for a long time.

“Tell me,” he demands softly yet strongly, making you gasp again.

“I love you, Jeongguk,” You breathe out, feeling a weight coming off your chest, “I love you so much.”

Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat, a small smile appearing on his face as he cups your face, thumb running across your cheek. “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back,” he whispers against your lips.

You whine at him for calling you an idiot and then you melt as he presses his lips against yours, soft and plump like pillows. Your hand tangles in his hair, fingers grabbing strands of curly, black hair as you let him kiss you until your breath is gone. It’s like you're sinking into him, fitting perfectly against his body. Goosebumps rise upon your skin as his hand wanders; over your bare legs to your waist and further across your chest and up to lightly wrap around the base of your throat. His tongue pokes at your lips, wanting to find yours. You part your lips, letting his tongue touch yours, the wetness and softness mixing well together as he pulls you even closer, a moan slipping out of you.

“Shit, ___,” he grunts against your lips as you press your core to his in eagerness, making him lose his mind, “please let me fuck you, let me love you so good, baby.”

You nod frantically, giving him full permission to do whatever he wants with you. A tiny squeal emits from your lips as he pushes you over, hovering over you and trapping you between his arms. He looks down at you, eyes soft and filled with want and lust. You smile up at him, hands running up and down the sides of his naked torso. You loved touching him like this, feeling his muscles tense under your touch and his soft skin that is filled with heavy tattoos, all of them having their own special meaning.

“I love you,” he whispers so softly you almost don’t hear it, eyes flickering between yours.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, cupping his face to pull him down to meet you for a kiss, a sloppy and wet kiss that makes your body tingle. You hum in satisfaction as he moves away from your lips, kissing his way down to your neck. He licks a stripe up your neck and to your ear, tongue flicking at your earlobe. He makes you shiver, his touch soft like a feather and yet rough enough to make you feel them more evidently than anything you’ve ever felt before.

As he works his way down with his lips, your hands are everywhere. On his shoulders, in his hair. You’re squirming under his touch, feeling impatient as he takes his time with you. It’s like he already knows every part of your body as he runs his hands down your sides and up under his T-shirt, that you’ve stolen at some point, pushing it up and revealing your breasts. He pulls the shirt all the way off, throwing it onto the floor without looking. His room is rather cold, making your nipples stiffen. He licks his lips, looking at your chest with hungry eyes. You gasp as he cups your breasts, thumbs running over each nipple. You bite your lip, holding yourself from moaning too loudly. You can’t hold it in as you watch him wrap his wetted lips around one of your hardened nubs, tongue lapping over it and flicking it.

“Holy sh- Jeongguk,” you moan, eyes closing as you arch your back in pure pleasure. He bites onto it causing you to twitch in his grasp. He smirks up at you as you glance down, watching him move to the other breast to give it the same amount of attention. He’s such a tease, you can barely comprehend it in your mind. 

A small tiny moan emits from your lips as he moves further down, lips kissing the skin on your stomach, trailing around your navel and to the edge of your pajamas shorts. He glances up at you for permission which you grant him with a small nod, teeth biting onto your lower lip. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, pulling shorts and panties down your legs. They’re on the floor within a matter of seconds, out of the world and out of the mind of the both of you as Jeongguk focuses his attention on the wetness that has formed between your legs. His dick twitches in his boxers, the sight of you bare and naked in front of him messing with his head.

You whimper as he spreads your legs, revealing your wetness to the cold air of the room, making you shiver once again. He inhales as he lowers his face between your legs, quiet growl leaving his lips. “You smell so good, baby,” he rasps, hands running from your ankles to your thighs and squeezing the soft flesh there, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

The feeling of his lips against you makes you jolt, your breath quickening as you feel him kissing against your folds. Jeongguk brings a hand up, the other hand gripping your thigh tightly to keep your legs spread for him. You moan lightly as he runs a finger down between your wet lips, loving every second of watching and hearing you squirm beneath his touch. You’re not prepared for the feeling when he spreads your folds with his fingers before diving in, licking up and flicking your already sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you moan out, your hand digging into his hair as he licks and eats you out like a starved man. Your breathing picks up as he quickens the pace of his tongue, feeling yourself nearing your high. “D-don’t stop, Gguk.”

Jeongguk hums in response to your words, letting a finger slip between your folds and inside you. You gasp, leaning up onto your elbows to watch him. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face as he glances up at you, lips still tightly connected to your core. “Oh,” you hum, biting your bottom lip tightly, “oh, fuck.”

His mouth leaves your wet lips as another finger sinks into you, pumping in and out at a fast pace. He’s desperate to bring you to your orgasm, lips kissing all over your thighs and lower stomach. “Let go, baby, cum for me.”

Your arms give up, your head hitting the pillows as your first orgasm of the night comes at you with full force – Jeongguk’s goal is to make you cum at least three times tonight but you don’t know that. “Fuuuuck Jeongguk,” you moan, voice high pitched as you close your eyes. Your toes are curling, fist grabbing the sheet tightly as his fingers fucks you through your orgasm. As you come down from your high, Jeongguk removes his fingers from you, your release covering them as he holds them up. You watch him bring his fingers to his lips, licking your cum off them. You whine, sitting up to reach for him, desperate for more.

He chuckles with a smirk, letting you pull him closer by hooking a finger around the silver necklace around his neck. Your lips finally land against his again, a sigh emitting from you as you let him lead you back onto your back again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he positions himself between your legs, his cock twitching against your core. You can feel how hard he is through his boxers. Your tongue dances with his as you reach down, cupping him through the fabric of his underwear.

He grunts against your mouth, letting your lips go to rest his forehead against your collarbone. Your hand squeezes him causing him to whine lightly. “Baby, don’t do this to me,” he rasps, lips pressing tiny kisses against the skin on your throat. “Need to fuck you.”

You nod, running a hand through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder blade. Pushing at the waistband of his boxers, he gets the hint. He helps you push them down his legs, his cock springing free and slap against his abdomen. You let him do the rest himself. He kicks them off, leaving them to fall onto the floor, long forgotten. He reaches over to his bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a condom. You watch him rip it open with his teeth before reaching down to roll it onto his sensitive, throbbing dick. You kiss him once he returns back to hovering over you, tongue sloppily fighting against his. Pulling away, he trails kisses to just above your breasts and back up to your neck. His hands are everywhere on you, running over your nipples to your stomach and further down to brush against your still wet, pulsing core. “Still so wet for me, huh?” He hums against your neck, teeth lightly biting into your skin. “Only for me?”

You nod, breathing heavily, “only you, Gguk.”

You can feel his smirk against your neck, shivers running through you at the thought. He lines himself up, leaning up on his elbows to glance at your face. You lock eyes with him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes closing momentarily before he presses a kiss to your palm.

The moment his eyes open again, you gasp. They’re dark, filled with lust and desperation. You don’t get to say a thing before he pushes past your folds and inside, making you moan his name out loud in surprise and pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep tightly. He hisses at the mixed feeling of your nails digging into his skin and the sensation of finally getting to be balls deep in you after all these months. He bottoms out, head resting in the crook of your neck as he stays still for a moment. 

“Oh god, you’re big,” you breathe out into the darkness, taking a few minutes to adjust to his size before you tell him to move. He chuckles against your neck, pressing a small kiss there before leaning up to support himself on his hands, looking down to see where you’re connected as one. “Gguk, please move.”

You’re in another world as he pulls out and pushes back in, the force already unlike anything you’ve ever tried before. How is he better and bigger than what you’d expected? 

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so tight.”

Your moans become more high pitched for each thrust Jeongguk does, your stomach tightening in just the right way. He sets a steady rhythm, somehow managing to hit the perfect spot every single time. “I love you so much,” you gasp out as he grinds into you, bottoming out in you and filling you to the brim.

He moans at your words, a hand grabbing your leg and wrapping it tightly around his waist as he fucks you harder. “I love you too,” he breathes out against your lips before kissing you hard but sloppily.

Jeongguk man handles you halfway through, unwrapping your legs from his waist and bending them to press against your chest. This angle causes him to hit even deeper than before. “Jeongguk, please fuck me faster,” you whine, moaning. He bites into his bottom lip as he follows your command, setting a faster yet still hard pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits you deeper for every single thrust, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks hard into you.

You’re seeing stars as you close your eyes and moaning out loud in pleasure, loving you better than anyone ever good, cherishing your body in every way he can as he brings you to another orgasm. White flashes for your eyes as it hits you, hands digging into his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whine against his lips, feeling yourself tighten around him.

This brings him to the edge, low grunts and groans leaving his lips in between sloppy kisses. His last thrusts become even harder as he hits his high, he stills as he cums into the condom. He’s breathing hard along with you, forehead resting on your chest.

“Holy fucking shit,” he sighs deeply as he pulls out before plopping down to lay beside you. He pulls the condom off and throws it into the bin close to his bed. “That was-”

“Amazing,” you breathe out, turning onto your side to look at him. He turns his head, smiling at you. “You’re amazing,” you tell him.

He grins, leaning up to press his mouth to yours in another sloppy yet soft kiss. You peck his lips one, two, three times before resting your head on his chest. Jeongguk wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. The duvet is pulled over the two of you as you’re slowly beginning to drift off to sleep. You don’t allow yourself to fall asleep before you’ve talked about this whole thing.

You rest your chin on his chest, locking eyes with him. His finger tips are running up and down your naked back, goosebumps rising once again.

“What now?” You question hesitantly, voice soft and careful.

Jeongguk shrugs, smiling softly at you. He brings a hand up to push strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s just you and me,” he softly says, running his thumb across your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb, making him smile even wider.

“Just you and me?” You repeat.

He nods, “you and me.”

You lean up, pressing a last kiss to his lips before resting your head against his chest once again, this time really falling asleep. Jeongguk lies awake for a bit, fingers still running up and down your spine. Your soft snores fill the quietness of his bedroom and it already feels like this is how it’s meant to be, finally.

The sun is forcing its way through the curtains in Jeongguk’s bedroom causing you to stir in your sleep. You stretch before rolling over onto your other side, coming to face a sleeping Jeongguk. You smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth and love as you watch him sleep with his mouth slightly parted and light snores leaving him as well.

You reach out, brushing his overgrown, curly hair out of his face. He stirs lightly, reaching up to wrap his hand around yours and intertwining your hands. He’s still sleepy as he opens his eyes, dark brown eyes meeting yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, shuffling closer so that you can press a soft peck to his lips.

He smiles, feeling his chest fill with warmth and the feeling of being content and happy in this exact moment. 

It doesn’t even take five minutes before Jeongguk’s is more awake and has you pinned down beneath him. He leans down, lips ghosting yours as he rests himself between your legs. He’s still naked just like you.

“Wanna go again?” He whispers against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

You chuckle, “wasn’t last night enough for you?”

He shakes his head, lips moving further down to your neck and biting into your skin, in the same spot as last night. “It will never be enough,” he hums into your skin. You can feel his dick twitch against your thigh causing wetness to quickly appear in between your legs.

Without another word, you reach down and line him up against your folds. “No condom?” He looks at you, confused.

You shake your head. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean,” you tell him, “aren’t you?”

Jeongguk looks at you in awe, nodding his head. “Of course, I am.”

He leans down, kissing you softly, tongue poking out to ask for allowance. You kiss him back, letting him in, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close. Jeongguk lines himself up again, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. You feel him poking at your folds, stomach tingling in excitement because there’s simply no cock better than Jeongguk’s.

“I love you,” he softly whispers.

You smile, “I love you too.”

Just as he’s about to push himself fully inside, the sound of the front door slamming shut stills him. Jimin’s voice sounds throughout the apartment: “Guys, get up! I’m inviting both of you out to eat breakfast, so you better be ready in five minutes!”

Jeongguk drops his head to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. “I can’t believe I get cockblocked again,” he grumbles against your skin, making you laugh out loudly.

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[cactusnymph]

Prompt fill #5 for @dimension20alphabet:

Escape

[part two to this]

Usually it goes like this:

 The Bad Kids eat lunch together in the cafeteria and otherwise Fabian doesn’t talk much to any of them over the course of his day. It’s not like he’s actively ignoring them, but he’s more on the side of the popular kids. The cool guys. The jocks.

 Meanwhile, the others—well, maybe except for Fig—don’t exactly fit the bill.

 Sure, Fabian would die for any of them, but somehow the social structures at school still feel restrictive in a way that gives him a hard time moving against them.

 Now though, now the unthinkable has happened.

 The Ball is ignoring him.

 Well, not as much as ignoring Fabian as he’s actively fleeing from him the second Fabian comes into view. At first Fabian thought that The Ball had just forgotten something in his locker when he turned around and ran—ran—in the opposite direction of Fabian.

 But it happens again during the first break and Riz is not at their usual table when Fabian joins the others for lunch.

 Everyone is looking at him.

 “What?”, he asks.

 His mood was bad all weekend. After the ridiculous dare he received on Theo’s party The Ball was nowhere to be seen. Both Adaine and Theo—Theo of all people, as if he was The Ball’s friend—followed him out of the room while everyone continued to stare at Fabian accusingly.

 Even Gorgug looked somewhat perturbed, like it was Fabian’s fault that a room full of people had chanted about him kissing The Ball. That hadn’t been his idea!

 “Hey man, you know, you could’ve said ‘no’ without making it sound like, you know, Riz was like, a slimy ghoul or whatever”, Ragh had said to him quietly.

 As far as Fabian knows, Theo and The Ball had ended up making out in one of the empty rooms or behind the house. Those pictures in his head didn’t lead to his weekend getting any better either.

 He trained way too much with his mother. He ate so many kippers that Cathilda asked him if he was feeling alright—which he wasn’t, but he couldn’t exactly explain why. He went for a run three times on Sunday and was still feeling on edge about everything that had happened.

 In the end he crashed on his bed with sore muscles and a scene of The Ball and Theo kissing playing on repeat in his mind that followed him into his dreams.

 And now his friends were looking at him as if he had personally murderer The Ball. With his bare hands. For fun.

 “Did you talk to Riz?”, Adaine wants to know.

 “No.”

 Silence answers him and he looks around the table.

 “What? He saw me in the hallway, turned around and ran away!”, Fabian exclaims angrily. His face is getting hot. He hates all this emotional bullshit and almost wishes he could just go back to being his father’s darling boy instead of his own man, because somehow that seemed way easier.

 “Oh no. Poor Riz”, Kristen says and Fabian almost loses his shit right there.

 Why is it ‘poor Riz’? Why is no one acknowledging what a shit weekend he had? And how fucking dumb that dare was? And how it’s offensive to consider that Riz and Theo made out behind the house while Fabian was being stared at like someone who strangles puppies? And also, he fucking hates it to be ignored.

 He is Fabian Aramais Seacaster.

 He refuses to be ignored!

 “Did you try to text him to apologize?”, Gorgug asks.

 Fabian stares at him.

 “For what?”

 “I mean. You know, because. He looked pretty hurt and like. Isn’t he your best friend?”, Gorgug says quietly and Fabian feels like someone has dropped an iron weight into his stomach.

 “I mean, I guess we’re friends, I wouldn’t go as far as to say that, you know—best friends is maybe a little—“

 A voice in his head whispers “Why would you say that, isn’t that a lie?” but Fabian doesn’t get to listen to it as Fig lowers her fork and looks past Fabian at someone right behind him.

 “Oh, no”, Gorgug says very quietly and Kristen gets up halfway from her chair which leads Fabian to turn around just to be faced with The Ball’s very pale and very unhappy face. For a split second Fabian has the opportunity to notice that Riz looks as if he hasn’t slept or eaten for the past two days, but then he notices Fabian looking at him and escapes immediately.

 “Okay, Fabian, I know talking about your feelings is super fucking hard and everything, but get a grip, man”, Fig snaps at him.

 “My feelings are perfectly fine, thank you”, Fabian grits through his teeth but he doesn’t touch the rest of his food and instead spends the rest of his lunch break cursing the universe for having The Ball turn up right at that moment when Fabian announced that them being best friends might be a bit of a stretch.

 Fabian never really had a best friend before.

 Fuck if he knows what that’s even supposed to mean.

 Riz always just went ahead and announced it to the whole world after they’d barely known each other for a week and back then it had been completely ludicrous.

 Now, though.

 Fabian doesn’t know.

 He might have announced that toxic masculinity is dead, but the truth is that it’s still hard dealing with all this emotional bullshit when no one ever really taught him how it works. And he’ll rather be shot than admit that. At least for now.

 It was hard enough to deal with the fact that he never really did anything on his own and was nothing but a pale shadow of his father, but now that he managed to work through that, everything else was still as difficult as before.

 And who the fuck are you supposed to talk to about these things?

 His father is a madman flying a dead dragon through hell.

 His mother heats up whole cantaloupes in hot pans, because she doesn’t even know how to cook some fucking scrambled eggs.

 Cathilda would probably know a thing or two about this stuff, but Fabian has yet to fully grow into the whole Cathilda-is-basically-his-surrogate-mother-and-not-just-his-maid-thing.

 And how is he going to explain this whole mess anyway?

 “Hey Cathilda, I went to this party and someone told me to kiss The Ball and I was like ‘No, that’s ridiculous’ and now everyone is acting like I’m a complete asshole and The Ball doesn’t talk to me anymore, which is quite frankly offensive, because he always says that I’m his fucking best friend.”

 Even to Fabian that sounds ridiculous. And it doesn’t take into account his obsessive thoughts about Theo and Riz kissing or how The Ball might have overheard Fabian saying that they’re not best friends. And his bloodshot eyes with dark shadows under them. And his pale green face with all those freckles.

 And...

 Fabian decides that school can suck his dick on this terrible Monday and he leaves the Aguefort Academy directly after lunch break instead of going to his fighter class.

 It’s not like he needs it, anyway.

 He could probably wipe the floor with his teacher at this point.

 On his way home he receives multiple text messages from his friends.

 “Hey Fabian, where are you? Are you okay?”, from Gorgug.

 “Just text him”, from Adaine.

 “Maybe Jawbone can help you out, he’s really good at this relationship stuff”, from Kristen.

 Relationship stuff?

 What relationship stuff?

 The Ball is not his boyfriend.

 Fabian laughs as he passes a mother with her two kids and she looks slightly concerned about his well being and tugs her children further down the sidewalk.

 What if The Ball wants Theo to be his boyfriend?

 Fabian stops in the middle of the road and stares at his phone. He doesn’t want to talk to Jawbone. Sure, Jawbone is cool and everything. But talking to Jawbone feels too much like admitting that he might have a serious problem, more so than if he maybe just talks to one of his friends.

 For a split second Fabian thinks that wants to talk to Riz until he remembers that that’s not possible right now.

 Because Riz doesn’t talk to him. And also Riz wouldn’t want to talk about anything related to kissing or—or—

 Fabian stuffs his crystal back into his pocket and turns a corner that leads him towards Mordred Manor instead of home.

 Ragh is outside in the vast garden of the manor, wearing a straw hat and some shorts and nothing else while he waters some plants.

 “Hey, what’s up, bro?”, he calls over to Fabian, turns the hose and hits Fabian square in the chest with a jet of cold water. It only takes a few seconds until he’s completely drenched.

 Ragh laughs loudly while he turns off the water and throws the hose down into the grass.

 “You good, man?”, Ragh asks as he walks over to him. Fabian feels like on any other day he might have simply punched Ragh in the face for getting his expensive sneakers wet, but today it just seems like maybe he deserved a shower of cold water.

 “Um—yeah. No. I don’t really know”, he says and his voice reminds him of the time when the whole Leviathan debacle went down. He clears his throat and wipes some water out of his face. “Do you—uh. Have some time to talk?”

 “Sure, dude. Let’s find a spot with a little more shade.”

 Fabian hates the feeling of water in his shoes, so he takes them off and follows Ragh through the garden and into the shade under a big maple tree.

 “What’s up, dude?”, Ragh asks and throws himself down into the ground, pulls the straw hat off his head and leans against the thick trunk of the tree. Fabian sits down cross-legged and puts his sneakers to the side.

 “So—uh”, he starts and then closes his mouth immediately because he hasn’t actually thought this through at all. Ragh looks at him curiously and Fabian wonders if there is a good and nonchalant way to ask the things he wants to ask. Instead of acting cool and composed how he wants to, what comes out of his mouth is:

 “Do you think The Ball and Theo made out?”

 There is a beat of silence in which Fabian considers just getting up and running out of the garden and into traffic. This was not what he is supposed to ask.

 This is not—

 “Dude”, Ragh says and he leans forward to look at Fabian. “You look like you’re about to puke, man.”

 Fabian doesn’t feel great. His chest feels like someone installed iron clasps around it and is pulling his ribs tight and his stomach is doing some acrobatics that it’s absolutely not supposed to do.

 Why did he ask this?

 And what if Ragh says yes?

 Why the fuck does it even bother him?

 The Ball can kiss whoever the fuck he wants!

 “I’m—sure. Fine. Yeah. It’s all—uh. Fine.”

 “Yeah, dude, no offense, but like, it doesn’t look particularly fine to me. So—what you’re asking me is. If Riz and Theo got it going after that whole Truth or Dare thing?”

 Fabian takes a deep breath, which seems particular hard for some reason. This is ridiculous.

 He’s Fabian Aramais Seacaster. He knows how to fucking breathe.

 “I—guess?”

 “Hm”, Ragh says and leans back again. “Not sure if that’s my story to tell, bro. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sorry you feel like shit, but, like. Isn’t that something you should talk to Riz about?”

 Fabian thinks that, if one other person tells him to talk to The Ball, he might actually commit cold blooded murder.

 “Great suggestion, seeing as to how he keeps running away from me like he’s afraid I’m going to breathe fire at him any second”, he growls and crosses his arms in front of his chest. Ragh sighs and cocks his head from side to the other.

 “Would it like, bother you if they actually had made out?”

 Fabian wants to snort and say “No”. What comes out instead is a garbled noise as his brain is bombarded with pictures about Riz and Theo kissing.

 “Woah, dude, okay”, Ragh says and he looks alarmed. “Breathe, man.”

 Fabian can do that. Breathing is really easy, except that it’s not.

 “Okay, dude, Imma just say it now, okay? It’s like ripping a band-aid off!”, Ragh says loudly, grips Fabian’s shoulders and stares at him very intently. “I think you’re totally into Riz.”

 Fabian’s brain feels like it’s suffering from a bad case of frostbite. His thoughts turn sluggish as he tries to process what Ragh just said, but it doesn’t make any sense. Fabian is not into The Ball. He’s not in love with Riz. That is insane.

 “Okay, so, hear me out, bro. Remember how I was totally in love with Dayne? And it took me like a million years to like, get that? Feels pretty similar to what’s happening with you right now, right? Because we’re like, these manly dudes and we’re supposed to be into hot girls and all that stuff, right? So it doesn’t really fit the picture, but it’s totally fine, dude. It’s all good. You can be in love with Riz.”

 Fabian blinks at him. He can hear the words and he can feel the corners of his mouth turn upwards as if to try to form into a grin.

 “Don’t be insane, Ragh. I’m not—That’s—“

 “It bothers you when he’s with other people because you’re fucking jealous, dude. I’ve been there, okay? And it’s like this weird thing of—you’re not allowed to be jealous because that’s fucking weird, right? Because that’s like, your best bro and everything. But then you keep obsessing about him making out with other people and then it’s like, okay, but what if he kissed me and then you feel really fucking bad, right? Because you’re brain shouldn’t go there?”

 For the very first time Fabian imagines what would have happened if he, instead of saying “No, that’s ridiculous”, had actually kissed The Ball.

 He thinks about Riz’ sharp teeth and how he keeps chewing on his bottom lip when he’s nervous and the second Fabian’s brain arrives at Riz’ bottom lip it feels like there is a dam inside his brain breaking.

 He imagines grabbing Riz and pulling him into his lap, pressing his lips against his and hearing Riz make a choked noise against his lips—

 “What the actual fuck.”

 Ragh lets go of his shoulders and nods.

 “Yeah, dude. Intense, right?”

 “But—why?”

 Ragh shrugs and rubs the back of his head with one of his hands. Somehow the cold water drenching Fabian’s clothing feels like a blessing now because his skin seems to be on fire.

 Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck—

 “Because, dude.”

 “But like—what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?”

 “I mean. Sounds to me like you should totally kiss your Ball, bro.”

 Fabian’s stomach does multiple somersaults.

 “But he’s not—into that kind of stuff.”

 Ragh chuckles.

 “Dude, I love Riz, I really do, but I feel like now that you figured this part of the whole deal out I can just tell you, that like. Riz doesn’t want to make out with Theo or pretty much anyone, right? Which is totally fine, bro, don’t get me wrong. But also, like. I’m a hundred percent certain that he would totally kiss you, man.”

 Fabian’s first response is “Of course he does, why shouldn’t he” but then his brain catches up and his skin starts to tingle.

 Maybe this is why kissing Aelwyn for the second time wasn’t really working out. Maybe this is what Aelwyn meant when she said “Well, I suppose we’re not a good match after all”.

 “Riz... wants to kiss me?”

 Ragh nods and grins.

 “Yeah, dude.”

 “Okay. Well—uh. I have to go.”

 “Don’t forget your shoes!”, Ragh shouts after him but Fabian doesn’t give a rat’s ass about his shoes as he takes off.

 Maybe he can unpack all of this shit later. Maybe he should actually talk to Jawbone. Maybe this is going to be yet another thing that makes him different from his father and as soon as he has some time to think it through he can maybe arrive at the conclusion that that isn’t a bad thing.

 At some point he stops running because he actually has no idea where Riz is. Is he still at school? At home? At his damn office? Fabian pulls out his crystal and hastily types a message to Riz.

 “Where are you???? We need to kiss!”

 He deletes the last word and types “talk” instead. Fabian watches with his breath held as three dots appear on his screen very shortly before they disappear again. He waits in the middle of the street, no shoes on, dripping wet. People passing him by look as though they’re concerned for his mental state but Fabian couldn’t care less.

 Maybe now is not the time to be manly about his feelings if he actually wants to fucking kiss his damn best friend.

 “I need to talk to my best friend”, he types.

 The dots reappear immediately.

 “at the office”

 Fabian stuffs the crystal back into his pocket, considers calling the Hangman to drive him over there but then decides that he doesn’t want to wait for him to arrive.

 The last time Fabian was in Riz’ office there was a terribly creepy doppelganger of Riz trying to kill him, but he pushes the thought to the side as he rushes into the building, dripping water everywhere as he heads up the stairs.

 Fabian doesn’t think he can manage another emotional talk today because the last one left him completely drained and exhausted, but the second that he spots Riz behind his desk ripping some papers in a nervous craze his heart leaps into his throat and goes into overdrive immediately.

 Fuck.

 He rips open the door and Riz flinches so hard that he sends all the papers flying. Then he stares at Fabian with his huge, yellow eyes.

 “Why are you wet? And where are your shoes?”, he wants to know, looking completely confused.

 “Doesn’t matter”, Fabian says, rounds the desk and grabs Riz by the shoulders. “We need to talk about Saturday.”

 Riz turns his face away and there is a dark green blush on his cheeks and the back of his nose. Now that Fabian knows what his damn problem is he realizes how fucking badly he actually wants to kiss Riz.

 “Oh—well. Yeah. Haha, weird, right? Don’t worry about it, it was totally ridicu—“

 “I should have done it”, Fabian interjects. Riz’ eyes grow impossibly wider.

 “Wh—what?”

 “I should have done it. Kiss you, I mean. We should have kissed.”

 Who would have thought that the son of the famous Bill Seacaster would die of a heart attack at the age of eighteen while wearing no shoes and dripping wet clothes.

 “Wh—why?”

 “Because I—“

 Fabian didn’t actually get that far in his head. He grabs Riz’ shoulders tighter and fuck, he can’t bring himself to say the words.

 “Because I don’t want you to kiss anyone else”, is what he manages in the end and he watches closely as Riz’ swallows and the dark shade of green on his face grows impossibly darker still.

 “Did you mean it?”, he asks quietly, his voice raspy and hoarse.

 “Mean what?”

 “That—in your text message. About—you know. Being best friends or whatever.”

 Fabian takes a deep breath.

 “Yeah.”

 Riz makes a very small “Oh” sound and then, all of a sudden, Fabian stumbles backwards with his arms full of Goblin. It occurs to him that this is the first time they actually hugged.

 “So—uh. Can I? Um—kiss you?”, he asks and his voice sounds like he swallowed a bunch of sand.

 “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

 It turns out that kissing someone you’re actually into is better than winning a Bloodrush game, better than dancing, better than pretty much everything he’s ever done before. Riz holds onto him as if his life depended on it and Fabian feels like he won’t let his best friend down anytime soon or he might just fall over and die.

 It occurs to him that this must be Riz’ first kiss and something inside him purrs contently at the thought of that as he lets himself sink down into Riz’ chair so Riz is sitting in his lap.

 “Thought you were into that Theo dude”, he mumbles against Riz’ lips.

 “’m not.”

 “Yeah, I get that now.”

 “I’m uh—pretty much only into you. So...”

 Fabian’s heart is doing a very silly little dance in his chest but all he can bring himself to say is “Yeah”. All the other words that he probably should say get stuck somewhere half the way up his throat because his heart is beating too fast.

 “So... no more Truth or Dare”, Riz says sheepishly.

 “No, definitely not.”

 “Cool.”

 Very cool indeed, Fabian thinks, as he kisses Riz again.

[the-silentium]

Trial by Fire

Masterlist - Chapter 1

Fors is an Original planet. I do not give permission to people to use it for their own fics, the planet, the animals, the Nightmares, the lore or anything related to Fors. Thank you.

Pairing: Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 4020 words

Warnings: Blood, gore, monsters (yay).

A/N: Woohoo, action chap! From this point on, the will be blood on almost every chap. Be warned.

Taglist:  @haloangel391​ /  @lightning-wolffe​​ / @cherrydemon5​​ / @and-claudia​​

_____________________

"Something happened." One of the members spoke up, addressing the problem from his position at the end of the long table. "The planet is angry again." 

"Why would they come back now?" Another asked, finger nervously tapping at his tight. 

The man leading the council took a second, to release the armchair from his deadly grip, allowing blood to return to his white fingertips. 

"We all know how it started." He didn't know why they were back, but he certainly knew who was the cause. 

Whispers erupted from the dozen of people sitting at the table, accusations, hateful exclamations, worried questions, they all blended in a cacophony that beat at the leader's growing headache. 

"Enough." He barked, effectively bringing silence back into the closed room. 

"She's back and we need to find her. Send half of our available hunters into the jungle for a retrieval mission. No one is allowed back in until she's here."

"But Arlan," the head of the scouts paused, unsure of his own next words, "she's dead." 

No one dared to breathe, in fear that they may be chosen to venture the darkness away from the village's protection if they dared to make a sound to disturb the stillness of the room. 

"Apparently not." Arlan growled, frustrated that the thorn in his side was back. 

____________________

You took a deep breath in to calm your buzzing nerves, they couldn't control you right now, not when everyone's lives, your family, was in danger. They needed you strong and in control, something you hoped you could be long enough to get the whole group to safety. It was your only chance. You had your instincts, they were sharp and trustworthy so you had to rely on them and not let panic overflow again. 

You exhaled slowly, wiggling your fingers and toes to relax every inch of yourself. You could do it. You were an experienced hunter in these jungles and they were highly trained commandos with a flawless success rate. Let's not forget the fact that they had blasters. You were good with your knife, but it clearly wasn't the best weapon out there. Maybe the odds were in your favor. 

But they were used to droids, not unpredictable monsters that loved to tear beings apart limb by limb. Tonight would be your trial by fire. For all of you. 

"We need to be ready to meet them." You cracked your knuckles unconsciously, already picturing yourself in front of one of your nightmares. 

You acknowledged Hunter's comment with a nod, already walking to the nearest tree to stab it with your knife and insert your loyal tap into the hole.

"We all drink before it's no longer possible. It's gonna be a long night and this is our last chance to do it." You pointed to Wrecker. "You first." 

He obeyed in a beat, trusting your survival skills. You knew you'd need all the energy available and the sugary water would provide you just that. Also, you needed to be as hydrated as possible. 

"Okay." You turned towards the rest of them, all their visors fixated on you. "So, I don't know much about them. There are different species that are common beliefs in my village and other species that are proper to other villages. But they all have in common to eat whatever cross their path and to roam solely at night." 

Wrecker moved away from the tree, wiping his mouth with his wrist to make place for Tech who removed his helmet to drink. 

"This planet is a trap." The grey-haired clone grumbled at your unhelpful lack of information. 

"I know, I've lived here my whole life." You glared at him before concentrating again. "No one in my village ever came back from a night outside, so I don't know for sure what species are around. All I know is that there are Algax roaming around."

You signaled to Cross to take Tech's place. 

"They are taaaall creature, with dark blue-ish skin and really long arms and legs. They are shy," you gesticulated your hands around to find the right word, but couldn't find it so you went with the first word that came to your mind, "things that tend to hide along the trees and grab their prey when they don't look. They don't eat the prey, just crush it to death and let it there for the other things." 

You were losing time fast, the jungle was darkening with each passing minute and you were far from ready. There was too much to cover and so little time. Plus, there was the fact that what you knew wasn't 100% reliable. Beliefs change from people to people, from village to village, who knows what version of the stories these beasts really came from?

"And they're super sneaky and silent. Hunter your turn." You announced a tad too dryly, but no one called you out on it, maybe because they were as on edge as you were, mentally preparing themselves for what was to come as best as they could considering they didn't really know what was to come. 

"I'll do this quick so listen. And Tech, listen really really carefully. Rule number one, if you see a light, something cute, something scary, hear a sound or hear your name being called, you. Do. Not. Follow it." 

"They know our names?" Tech's hands stopped mid-air, his helmet almost back on his head, eyes wide in surprise. 

"The planet hears us talk. Of course they know." You almost rolled your eyes at the stupid question coming from the team's genius. Ears everywhere duuh. 

"Rule number two, don't eat or drink anything from now on. Can't have one of us puke their guts or get poisoned or paralyzed." Out of the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw a shiver shake the sniper's body. Lesson learned. 

"Number three, if I say run, you all run. In the same direction would be best, but if it comes down to it, you run and don't stop. We'll regroup afterward. You have trackers on us, right?" 

"If you keep your comlink on you, yes." You patted your pockets in reflex, hand closing around the small object to confirm its presence and alleviate your concerns. 

"Last rule, if I do this," the index, middle and ring finger of your free-hand closed to let only your thumb and pinky pointing to the ground, "you have to hide, absolutely don't run. Hide. Some of them are guided by movements and you'll only attract them." 

"Hide? But we can blast 'em!" Wrecker's enthusiasm didn't affect you this time around. It was a first. 

" 'm just no sure they'll stop moving if you do. Best to make our way around unnoticed." 

He grumbled his disappointment at having to be silent, it never has been his forte. Plus, he had the added difficulty to hide his imposing stature, so this would be a challenge. Thankfully their armors were almost entirely black, would they have been the usual white with color stripes, it certainly would have been even more difficult to blend in with the vegetation. 

It felt weird giving them orders, like you were totally out of place. And in a sense you were. The newbie wasn't supposed to command the trained soldiers. The newbie followed behind and shut its mouth. 

Well, at least that's what you've always been told and that's what you've always done. It was no use to fight with the other hunters. They were a group of dickheads that deserved hell, but they had more muscles than you. And they were outnumbering. Aaand they were watching each other's back, whereas you were alone without any backup. All that being said, it didn't stop you from making them pay for their hurtful words, harsh treatments, condescending tones and constant bullying, one way or the other. 

For the first time, people let you lead them and it was unsettling. A part of your mind waited for the inevitable low blow to hit you square in the face. You knew the commandos weren't like that, but you couldn't help it. It was a defensive reflex you developed over the years of trying to fit in a world that you were too different to live in. It was totally foreign to be listened to and not berated down, it felt good and terrifying at the same time. 

"Understood?" Your voice softened into an unsure tone, its once imperativeness melted under the weight of your anxiety of being listened to. 

One after the other, they all nodded, gazes full of determination and something else that almost made you sweat. They all showed their trust in you, even Crosshair who you thought didn't like you much, offered you his trust. It meant way too much and stressed you beyond measure. You couldn't let them down and have them killed. Any single one of them. 

Nodding in return, you walked to the tap beside Hunter and forced yourself to swallow the water, pushing down the lump that formed in your throat. You could do it. You could survive the night if you played your cards right. With your knowledge and their excellent combat skills surely you could defend yourselves. Right?

"Blasters ready gentlemen. We have to find a shelter as quickly as possible." You removed the tap from the tree and hid it back into a pocket. 

"A den should be alright or a small cave." 

With one last look at the four of them, you noded to yourself. 

"Good night, good luck." You told them as per habit and hope that the saying would somehow protect you all. Your usual joking self was nowhere to be seen, letting you wear a mask of complete seriousness.

They tensed, apparently getting on the fact that this was an important custom on this planet. 

"Good night, good luck." They repeated, one after the other, causing you to smile tightly at the gesture. 

You took North, continuing away from the ship and into unknown territory. You knew that after a while you'd eventually fall into Forsians hunting territories and then you'd have a better knowledge of the terrain, but those parts of the jungle were still hours away. Hopefully, you'll be able to climb up and make your way back to the ship before getting there. 

"Will you be alright to walk in the dark?" Crosshair's voice erupted from your pocket and you knew this wouldn't work. Each time they'd speak the whole jungle would hear. 

"I'll be fine. Like I said, the best mutate to survive." You winked at the white crosshair on the sniper's helmet. "I can see in the dark. Not full 10/10 on the chart, but enough so I won't ram into a tree."

You fished the comlink out of your pocket and showed it to Tech who was rummaging around in his utility belt pockets.

"Can't have it screaming my position every time someone spea-" 

"I know." He cut you off, presenting you an earpiece.

"This will do." He took your device to connect them together, or so you think. "There. You'll hear us through the earpiece but you still need the comlink to talk." 

He gave you back the electronics and you quickly put the earbud on, comlink returning to your satisfyingly deep pocket. 

"Thanks. We should continue to follow the ravine and hope that we can climb it at some point and return to the ship." 

Agreements resonated in your right ear and you got on your way. It got darker and darker until the only colors you could see were different shades of blue and black. 

The silence around was nerve-wracking, every tree seemed like it would turn around and jump at you at each and every step you took. 

It was nice to quickly fall back in your old habits, feet barely making a sound, eyes recognizing every scratches and marks on the trees let by multiple species marking their territories; Dire bears, Lacergans, Fu-

You almost jumped at the low rumbling whisper right in your ear. Thankfully, your scream stayed in your mind and the only thing jumping was your heartbeat. 

"Movement ahead." You couldn't hear shit, but you trusted Hunter's heightened senses. 

You stopped, the boys getting into their shooting positions at your sides. You could do it. 

"Smell like death." Hunter added with a grunt of displeasure. 

The new information registered like a cold bath, freezing every muscle in your body. The ice-cold bath that just fell over your head paralyzed any transfer of information between the neurons in your brain, leaving you totally helpless for a whole second. Your brain was still out of service when your body just moved on its own, already knowing what to do despite the lack of orders from above. 

The three middle fingers of your free hand closed, letting only your thumb and pinky pointing to the ground, clearly informing the clones of the course of action. Thankfully, all their gazes got attracted by your moving hand, immediately changing the formation. 

Twiggs broke a bit to the right, still far enough for you to dodge behind a tree undetected, soon joined by Tech who as opposed to you, faced the tree. His chest plate pushed on your torso to get closer to the tree, one of his blasters raised right next to your head, the other grazing your upper arm, caging you in a position that would be extremely hot in totally different circumstances and with a totally different clone. 

At the corner of your eyes, you thankfully noticed Wrecker's imposing form hiding as best as he could behind a particularly thick bush, Hunter standing behind a tree next to him, weapon pointed towards the sky above. Crosshair was nowhere to be seen, so you hoped it meant he found a good spot. 

Rustling leaves and moving grass made you freeze completely. No one moved as the footsteps got nearer and nearer. Of course, this was the first creature you'd encounter. Kribats were the worst creature one could run into. 

They were told to feast on human flesh like there was no tomorrow. They were starved, walking the jungle every night in hope of biting down on some stupidly brave human who ventured the night, but these times were rare nowadays. Almost no one got out at night, reinforcing their desperation for human blood.

It was told that they could paralyze you in fear at simply one glance to their wicked red eyes, allowing the beast to pound on its victims and take their life. It wasn't clear how it killed its preys, but all the versions were unanimous, it was a bloodbath. 

Fors really seemed to hate the Bad Batch. 

If it wasn't enough that the most dangerous monster was hot on your asses, Tech's recording light flashed to life, illuminating your position and burning your retina like a mighty beacon. With a fast but careful movement, you reached around his arm encasing your body into the tree to cover the red traitorous light. 

Blinking the tears away, you really hoped your glare got the message perfectly clear to the engineer. Forget about your hobby for one night, you dumbass!

The rustling grass behind Hunter's tree stopped your breathing, all senses focussed on the beast's movements to know if it detected your group or not. 

Tech's eyes visibly widen behind his visor at the ungodly sight of the creature's emaciated body, the skull of a cervid posed atop a male human body rivaling Wrecker's height was disturbing, but not as disturbing as the sight of all the blood covering its dark skin. There was so much blood that it pooled at its feet, leaving behind a river-like path in the grass. 

The low ragged rumble of the monster passed your tree, surprising you that he hadn't bounced on it to grab you from behind. You glanced at its retreating form and oh this is new. Your version of a Kribat didn't have a feathery tail trailing behind. Now, what could this be useful for? They couldn't fly, could they? 

The Kribat wandered deeper into the depth of the jungle, leaving its imprint on everyone's mind as well as on the jungle floor and all your noses and mouths. 

You waited for a little longer, just to be sure that it was far enough to not catch its attention before nodding to Tech. 

"Clear." He whispered through the comm. 

The first breath you took in almost pulled you to your knees. The smell was atrocious, grabbing you at your throat. Decomposition, blood, acids, they all mixed to form a rancid smell that you could almost taste. 

"What in the Nine Corellian Hells is that?" Crosshair stood from behind a dead trunk on the ground to join everyone at the dark trail. 

"Human blood, flesh and organs." The shredded pieces of meat here and there turned your stomach upside down. 

You were used to flesh and blood. Heck. You were a hunter and often butched your meals yourself. But this flesh was human and the state of it only left you to imagine was it must have felt like to be ripped apart. You didn't want to speculate if the victim was alive or not when it happened. 

"Kribats are craving human flesh but they don't have a digestive system. It gets in and gets out, so they're never satiated." 

"So this one just ate?" Wrecker approached behind you. Now faced with what these beasts were capable of, his enthusiasm disappeared somewhere, letting him wary and if only a little bit scared. 

"It looks like it." You fixed the blood, deep in thoughts. Why were there humans out tonight? 

"I thought no one was supposed to be out at night." Tech inquired while disconnecting the red light on his helmet. 

"They're not supposed to be. It means that something's wrong." You sighed. Tonight couldn't get any better. The planet was throwing a tantrum. 

There was nothing you could do about it, so you focussed back on the present. You swallowed to keep yourself from puking as you dropped to your knees before the red river. 

"And what are you doing?" Crosshair asked, not daring to approach the thing himself. 

"Camouflaging my smell of a juicy living being." With shaky hands, you plunged your fingers through the sticky mixture. You gaged at the feeling but covered your sleeves nonetheless. 

"You guys should cover your armor too. Lucky bastards." At least it wouldn't touch their skin. 

"No way." Crosshair groaned as Tech walked over asking "Why?" 

"Because I want us to survive the night." You deadpanned. There was no time to explain the how and why. 

You stopped breathing for a second to cover your torso and pants, cringing at the warm wetness soaking the fabric. You allowed yourself a second to mourn your once perfect clothes that you loved so much. You'd have to burn them after only one day wearing them. 

At your sides the boys reluctantly followed your lead, grunting in disgust every two seconds. 

You decided to forget your face, this would end badly for your stomach. 

Turning around as you wiped your hands on a clean spot on your pants, you noticed Hunter's clean body leaning on a tree for support, head tilted down with a hand over his heart. You didn't need to be a Jedi to feel his distress at the overwhelmingly nauseating smell. 

"You okay?" His visor lifted to meet your eyes at your worry. You controlled yourself and refrained from pulling him in a hug, you'd only make it worse. 

"Yeah." But he sounded far from okay. 

"We have to continue, but if you stay close, we all should be able to hide your smell without rolling you into the stuff." He grunted in agreement. 

Tech, Crosshair and Wrecker joined your sides, covered in the mixture. 

"Okay. We continue." 

Hoping that your sergeant would get used to the smell, you took the lead once more. You didn't know if his mutation would allow his brain to stop registering the smell after a couple of minutes like everyone else. You mentally crossed your fingers for him. 

The trees seemed taller into the dead of night. The occasional moon rays passing through the leaves made the heavy ambiance slightly more bearable. 

You wondered what a night outside looked like on another planet where no monsters crept their way around. Where you could lay down and watch the stars, not through a tiny crack in the rock like you used to in your village and fully admire the high sky, illuminated by a sea of sparkling orbs. You deeply wanted to experience it with your team who would definitely think you stupidly simple. 

But they would understand. After tonight, they would. 

Your progression was steady for a while, every ears and eyes were focussed around to detect any unwanted creature lurking in the shadows. 

Back to his collected usual self, Hunter finally seemed used to the smell plaguing his nose. To add to the good news, you spotted a mature tree, particularly large. At first glance, it looked like it reached the top of the ravine.

Excitement flooded your veins, a hand lifting to stop the group who tensed in alert. 

"I think this one could get us up." You whispered to them, pointing at the tree.

"It definitely could." Tech scanned the tree, the others still watching the surroundings. 

"I'll go check." You broke away from the formation to get to the closest branch. 

"Wait-" A hand caught your upper arm. 

"Hunter, I'm the best climber here. Plus, you guys will make too much sound for a recon with your armor. I'll make it quick." Your determined eyes met his visor, not willing to get back on your position.  

"Be careful." He released you to position his team around the tree. 

You send him a quick salute before pulling yourself up the tree. You kept your knife in one hand and climbed up several branches. The next one was pretty high, too high for you to reach it without jumping. Your knife found its home at the side of your boot and you focussed on your jump. Crouching slightly, you suddenly extended your legs and pushed with considerable force. Both hands grabbed the top of the desired branch before letting your biceps do the rest of the work. 

"Are you okay?" Hunter called through the comm. 

Leaning on the trunk, you reached in your pocket to retrieve the communication device. 

"Yeah, had to jump to continue. Think I'm almost at the top. I'll be down soon." You answered, looking up to the thinning branches where more moonlight pierced the darkness. 

"Copy that." 

Your comm returned to your pocket to free your hands. Up. Up. Up. In the same minute, you made it to the top. The moon was still low, not fully visible above the line of trees obstructing your vision. 

Now, you noticed that the edge of the damn ravine seemed barely close enough for you to jump there. Maybe Wrecker could throw you there. But how would he reach the top? Checking under the edge, the lack of roots keeping the ground stable was highly disappointing. Even if you were to jump all the way there, the chance of the dirt crumbling under your fingers was too high. 

Quickly, you grabbed your comm to let the boys know that you were coming back. 

With a grumble, you started to descend, moving gracefully from branch to branch without making a sound. The gap you jumped looked pretty big from above, causing you to hesitate for the shortest of seconds. The need to get down was more pressing than your unease so you braced yourself and pushed yourself off your perch to the one below. 

You landed perfectly, both feet on the hard surface, hands wrapped around it tightly to not move further. 

For a second, you were perfectly stable. The next you were falling through the air, propelled by the body hitting you full force. Wood painfully came in contact with your shoulders, arms and back, emptying your lungs before a scream could escape your lips.

[samwrights]

Two Little Lines

Let’s just keep playing around with the pregnancy/baby theme, shall we? 😂😈 it’s going to be on the fluffier side, however, we are gonna sprinkle in some very mild NSFW. And we got real angsty with Kenma and we’re just gonna make em all real long. Sorry this took me a few days to do!

Kenma;

Let’s be honest, Kenma would be the cautious one that would more so plan for pregnancy.

Life’s going great for Kenma—great job, cushy life, hot wife??? How did he get so lucky?

Cause he’s cute af that’s how

He was finally ready to add another player to the party.

However, life can’t always be perfect and apparently neither can the two of you trying for a baby.

For the last year and a half now, Friday nights were your thing. No streaming, no work, no phone calls. You and Kenma—that’s it. And while he definitely had become very explorative in that time, every negative pregnancy test was wearing his drive down.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone that Kenma isn’t a fan of going to the doctor, even to check on how his little swimmers are doing. “If it’s not meant to be, we’ll find another way.” But you could tell it was breaking his heart a little bit.

Frisky Friday’s became fragile Friday’s, in which the two of you really just cuddled in bed together, fireplace lit, and talked about hopeful dreams of finally having a child together, until one of you hopefully got in the mood.

Shit, this whole ordeal was even making your marriage rough. Kenma had been so hard on himself lately that he could barely look at you, which caused you to start to feel insecure, causing the both of you to fight.

It’s Friday night. No streaming, no work, and no phone calls. That was how it was supposed to be. But instead, Kenma is naked in bed atop the comforter, playing with his switch.

It’s pissing you off.

“I don’t know what you wanna do anymore, Kenma. Do you even want a family? Do you even want to be with me anymore?”

“Why would you even say that?” It’s Friday night. The two of you are supposed to be hanging out in bed, naked and just being together, not picking fights with each other. But since that seems to be the case, you see Kenma flush with anger.

“Maybe because you’re playing Animal Crossing instead of looking at me??” Your husband sighs before putting his switch on the night stand before taking down the loose knot that his hair typically resides in. He’s anxious. “You’re acting like I’m not upset about this too.”

As you’re talking to him, you cautiously clamber over him, your face filled with raw emotion. And, after being married for the better half of a decade, you can see what he’s feeling. Failure, distress, and pain were only the start of it. “Please, Kenma. One more time, and we’ll start looking at other options.”

Apparently one more time was all it took, according to the three pregnancy tests you’d taken a month later. Seeing those two little lines on one of the tests that your husband had bought in bulk sent your heart into palpitations. You were going to be a mom.

Kenma comes home from work that Friday—you decided to surprise him. “What do you want to do tonight Kenma?”

??? “Honey, it’s Friday. Don’t we usually...” he stops. Either you were giving up on trying, which you two would have discussed, or... “wait, you don’t mean...”

Holding up the positive pregnancy test, you begin to cry. Kenma does too.

“Baby Kozume has joined the party.”

Kuroo;

Only the two of you would get pregnant while having an IUD implant. Literally, that was just your luck. But it was still possible.

Which you had yet to tell Kuroo—at the moment you were thankful the two of you weren’t cohabitating yet because you were able to hide your unbearable morning sickness.

You were at least waiting to see your doctor to have your IUD removed before telling him, mostly out of fear but also because, if he did notice your morning sickness, you could pawn it off as symptoms of the removal.

You hoped that this wouldn’t take too long or as be as painful as it was going in, but then again you were going to be pushing a human out in nearly 8 months.

It’s a Wednesday afternoon; Kuroo has already finished classes for the day while you’re still out at your appointment. He did have a key to your appointment, but it was strange that you weren’t home considering you didn’t have classes.

He wasn’t gonna call you out on it though—Kuroo trusted you. Instead, he opted to just rummaging around your apartment, cleaning up dishes that were left standing in the sink and making lunch for the two of you.

The minute you walked through your door, the smell of his cooking wafted through the air and absolutely did not agree with you or the baby’s sense of smell. “Fuck,” you grit out before bolting to the bathroom to hurl.

??? = Kuroo.

“Babe? You okay?” Your response was more vomiting, which was apparent both by sound and by visual—you hadn’t even closed the door to the bathroom and Kuroo got to witness the scene clear as day.

In comfort, Kuroo rubs your lower back in an attempt to coax the remaining bile from your body. Disturbing, was the only way Kuroo could describe it, considering you rarely ever puked. In the last six years of dating, he’s only seen it once while you drunk.

When the nausea finally passed, Kuroo cleaned your face up with a warm rag before sitting you on his knee while he sat at the edge of the tub. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“That, actually.”

“What?” Kuroo’s a smart guy, however it took him a few minutes to decipher your two word puzzle. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah, I was gonna tell you today, actually. I just had to go get my IUD removed.” For a moment he’s stunned—the IUD was supposed to be nearly foolproof. But nearly is the key word.

“Babe, you’re pregnant! Holy shit, I gotta call Kenma and Bo and tell them they’re gonna be uncles!” 💀💀💀

“Sooo, you’re okay with it...?” After all, there was a reason you had chosen to go with an IUD after your guys’ last pregnancy scare two years ago.

After all, being a freshman in college wasn’t necessarily an ideal time to start a family.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He balks.

“Because we’re college students that still have another year to graduate?” You deadpan as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“And? Now we’re gonna be married college graduates with little baby Kuroo.” M a r r i e d?

“I think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself, Tetsu.”

“What, you don’t wanna marry me?” For a minute, his face contorts with...confusion? Sadness? Anger? A myriad of all the above? “I’ve wanted to marry you since high school.”

“Is this a proposal?”

“The rings been in my gym bag since senior year.”

Akaashi;

Akaashi Keiji, contrary to popular opinion, was a real romantic.

Even as college students, while your focus should be on your studies, Akaashi never slacked on making you feel special and loved. He knew it, you knew it, and your poor neighbors that shared the wall between your bedrooms knew it.

Kinda made it awkward when the two of you would leave for class and you’d meet your neighbors’ eyes in the apartment hallway. But ya know, it is what it is.

Honestly, it’s too challenging not to go at it every day when your boyfriend is the sweetest, most endearing human to walk the planet.

But enough gushing about Akaashi. Four years into your relationship, you had never felt so off in your life. The last three weeks, all you wanted to do was sleep and eat, you couldn’t focus on anything at all. You couldn’t even have sex with Akaashi.

You know, your wonderful partner that you literally boned everyday? Yeah.

It felt like a permanent, three week PMS for a period that never came. Not that that was entirely abnormal for you—intense amounts of stress can throw off your menstrual cycle and stress was certainly no stranger to you.

But no. You knew your body and you knew it well. Something was wrong.

Just in case things went awry, you scheduled a doctor’s appointment with Keiji’s knowledge. After all, it could very well be nothing and there was no point in causing your man to worry.

“Miss, were you aware that you’re nearly six weeks pregnant?” 💀💀💀 obviously not, doc.

Not entirely convinced, whether because you’re a tad dense or because you really just don’t want to believe the doctor, you swing by a local drug store to grab a test. Just in case, like somehow the doctor would be wrong.

Thankfully, you get home before Akaashi is back from work for the evening, giving you the privacy of seeing your results with your own eyes. Even though you literally could go look at the results and notes from your doctors visit, but ya know.

You don’t even know how long you sat on the floor of your shared bathroom, just staring at the two little lines. You didn’t even realize Akaashi came home.

He calls your name, at first not necessarily concerned that the only light in the apartment was peeking from under the bathroom door. But with no answer, he calls out your name again. No answer. “Honey, is it okay if I come in?”

“Y-yeah?” You aren’t really sure how to answer. How the hell was Akaashi going to react? You guys didn’t have time for a kid?? You’re completely zoned out, staring blankly at the bathtub in front of you. Lowkey, you’re freaking out Akaashi.

Even more so when he sees your hand loosely cradling the pregnancy test—judging by your reaction, he knows what the result is. But he can’t think of anything to say, what is there even to say?

He’s not upset, no. Shocked? Obviously. Mad, not at all considering he’s just as much responsible. The “R” word is what triggers him.

Responsible, in the sense that in less than a year, the two of you were going to be parents. It swelled joy within him. While the two of still had yet to speak, Akaashi comes to your side, sliding down the wall to sit beside you before wrapping his arms around you.

“So, are you hoping for a boy or a girl?”

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

OOH can we see how Kohga would react to Mipha asking for relationship advice? Since she’d see how devoted and passionate Sooga is for his Master, and not really anyone else in their group is in a relationship soooo

I’m just obsessed with him just adoring Mipha and trying his ass off to get her and Link together it’s so cute

One, thank you for recognizing the fact that Kohga playing Mipha’s wingman is possibly the best idea I’ve EVER had. Two, I am SO ready to start this absolute soft shit. Smut is fun and all, but come on, Kohga trying to hook bitches up is amazing. And third, this got waay out of hand, so enjoy some double dates here.

“So, did you get me something?”

Sooga hardly left Master Kohga’s side. Whenever he had to, be it to lend a hand elsewhere; he had TWO rules to follow; come home to him at the end of the day, and bring him something. Kohga had been sitting here, having tea with Mipha, while Sooga offered to help Sidon hunt for sneaky river snails (Sooga had a real knack for knowing where to find them). They came back with quite the haul, so the fact that he managed to get anything else was nothing to scoff at. He put the large bag of fish down on the floor, and from his pockets, produced a small cage. Inside the cage was what appeared to be a winterwing butterfly. Kohga clapped his hands together, clearly loving it.

“Ooh, I’ve been looking for one of these!”

“I know. It was why I had to stop in the middle of fishing to catch it for you. I may have let Sidon fall in the water in my haste. Maybe.”

Mipha cocked her head to the side upon seeing his reaction to the small bug.

“You like bugs?”

“Just the butterflies. I only keep them for a day or two before I let them go, I just think they’re neat.”

Kohga took a hold of Sooga’s chin, grinning from ear to ear.

“And SOMEONE seemed to remember me saying I wanted this specific one. You’re such a sap, Sooga.”

Sooga was trying (and failing) not to smile.

“I listen to EVERY word you say, master Kohga.”

“Ugh, you’re being mushy again. Get outta my face, go help shark boy with the fish.”

Kohga tried to look mean as he gently pushed his face away, but it was plainly obvious; Kohga loved him. Sooga pardoned himself, hoisted the bag over his shoulder, and walked off with Sidon. Mipha took a sip of her tea, watching as Kohga lightly shook his head. She knew it was a bad emotion to feel, but she couldn’t resist feeling a bit jealous. They were so happy with one another, and yet, her own love and affections were clearly not recognized by the one boy she loved, more than anything. Perhaps…

“Kohga? Can I ask something?”

“Whatever you want.”

Kohga stopped ogling his boyfriend for a second and gave her his attention, snacking on the cookies she made, just for him (shaped in just the cutest seashells). She squirmed a bit in her seat, unsure of how to go about it, before she finally came out with it.

“How...did you get someone to love you, the way Sooga does?”

Kohga stopped eating for a second, looking at her sullen face. This little fish was just sweeter than banana bread, and it hurt poor ol’ Kohga to see her love so much, without Goldilocks even talking about it with her. Sure they were young, and they had forever to talk about this stuff, but there was no time like the present.

“Sooga is a fucking idiot, for one, and I attract idiots. Second, you kinda just. Come out with it. We started off as friends before anything, and that’s now all relationships start. Course, your case is a BIT different from mine. You want my honest opinion? Just shoot your shot. I mean, worst he’s gonna say is no. Or nothing with his mute ass…”

Kohga mumbled that last part, helping himself to another sip of tea. Realizing it didn’t seem to be very helpful, he sighed.

“Or, you could cook him something. Call me old fashioned, but my mama always said the quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I make mean salmon skin, look at the hunk I bagged.”

They both turned to look at Sooga, who was busy de shelling the fish alongside Sidon. Mipha pursed her little lips, before softly nodding.

“I...suppose that isn’t a bad idea at all. If I can find the courage in my heart to ask him.”

Just then, Kohga noticed Link walking alongside the princess. Small land, honestly. Kohga put his hands to the side of his face, crying out to Link.

“Yo Goldilocks! Mipha’s cookin’ tonight, you want in?!”

Link nodded, giving a thumbs up. Kohga shrugged.

“See? Easy. You just gotta be straightforward with boys.”

Mipha held her face in her hands, obviously embarrassed.

“But what do I do WHEN I make him something?! What do I say? What do I talk about with him?”

Kohga loved Mipha, really he did, but girl needed to stop seeing boys as a lynel, and more along the lines of wild horses. Something to tame, not to fear. He sighed.

“Tell you what. Me and Sooga will join you, sorta like a double date kinda deal. I’ll be there if the date goes bad, and we can dip when the date is going GOOD.”

Mipha looked up from the table with just the softest eyes you’ve ever seen.

“You...would do that, for me?”

“Course, lil red! You’re like, my favorite in the little team of goody two shoes. Plus, free eats, can’t complain-”

She suddenly got out of her seat, and nearly pounced on him for a hug. The things he did for love.

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

“He here yet?”

“Not quite, but I’m just about done!”

Kohga came back a while later, alongside Sooga. Kohga had his own men helping her in the kitchen, setting up the dining room, everything she could need, Kohga helped with. Kohga scoffed as he put his gift on the dining room table (he’d be remiss if he didn’t bring something to drink for the occasion), lightly pulling up one of her fins, and scoffing.

“Okay, let the boys finish up. Sooga, get to work on this girl, she needs to focus on being as pretty as a fresh stack of banana pancakes.”

Sooga nodded, prompting Mipha to follow him to her bedroom. Kohga was about to see just what she was cooking, before the main doors flew open. Link. Aka, Goldilocks, aka, the guy that never fucking knocked. He was wearing the classic gerudo outfit. A real tits out look, and honestly Kohga would jump on that in a heartbeat.

“Goldilocks! Bit early! How you doing? Mipha will be ready in just a second, take a seat, lemme get you a drink!”

Link nodded. Kohga chatted him up for a minute, serving him a nice glass of banana wine (it’s actually VERY good). When he caught the eyes of Sooga, he pardoned himself and dipped into the hallway. He took one gander at Mipha, and gave a whistle.

“Girl look at YOU! Lookin’ prettier than a pack of opals!”

She really did look like a beauty. Freshly touched lipstick, sharpened nails, her silver jewelry replaced with gold, and instead of her usual blue sash, Sooga somehow managed to find time to make a blue, see through looking dress for her. It fit around her body snugly, but it was a loose, comfortable material, perfect for fashion, and function. Sooga was so talented, getting that together so quickly. Kohga nodded towards Link.

“Go keep him busy, gotta give this girl a pep talk.”

Sooga nodded. Once he left, Kohga carefully put his hands on her shoulders.

“Look at me. Lookin? Okay good. You like this guy, so be you. BUT, you need to let him know you’re interested. Be flirty. Touch his hands, compliment him, fucking, feed him from your plate- make it obvious. You’re a princess. He’s a knight, it’s GONNA happen.”

She nodded firmly, shoulder’s straight as a Lynel’s. 

“I can do this!”

She peered over at Link, and immediately hid behind a wall again.

“I can’t do this! He’s wearing the voe armor!”

“For the love of…”

Kohga sighed. Why did he love all these shy bitches?

“Mipha. You’re gonna make HIM drool, not the other way around. Come on, you’ve got this. I’ll be right here, I’ll make you look good as hell. On three. One. Two. Three!”

He carefully pushed her towards the dining room, and Mipha looked ready to have a heart attack. Poor thing.

“Link! It’s so nice to have you over! I hope my invitation wasn’t sudden!”

Link shook his head. Kohga, sensing things were still awkward, jumped in. He was always the fun one at parties.

“Hey, you know what, we should totally start eating! I heard Mipha made quite the spread, Sooga why don’t you help bring the stuff out?”

Sooga nodded, heading into the kitchen. Kohga gestured for all of them to take a seat (with Mipha sitting right next to Link of course), and him just a bit away from them. Close enough to be supportive, but just far enough to beat it if he was cramping their style. Soon enough, trays of food were brought in, and even Kohga had to admit, he was starved.

“Master Kohga?”

“Yes, Sooga?”

“I’m sorry.”

He was about to ask what for, but then he saw it. Fish dish. Fish dish, not a single dish WASN’T fish. And he couldn’t just NOT eat her food, less he make Mipha’s food look awful. Kohga gulped, and Mipha seemed to catch onto his distress.

“Oh Kohga, I’m so sorry, I forgot you didn’t like fish! Please, let me make you-”

“Nope!”

Kohga could feel his ass sweating. He was really gonna sit here and eat fish, because Mipha deserved it. Link looked over at him, clearly just as confused as anyone else. Kohga forced himself to chuckle.

“I mean...I HATE clam chowder. A lot. It’s gross, it’s squishy, it smells AWFUL. Unless it’s Mipha’s. I LOVE Mipha’s clam chowder! She is just. SUCH  a good cook, I could eat a whole bowl!”

Link looked him right in his face, grabbed a bowl, and filled it completely with clam chowder. He slid the bowl over to him, and Kohga wanted to throw up. That yucky, smelly smell of fish. 

“Son of a bitch..I mean, yum! Thank you, Link.”

Mipha just had to like this blonde asshole. Sooga made a motion to grab the bowl, but Kohga halted him. He was going to do this for Mipha. He took a taste of it, and he fought every urge not to puke. Dear god, the smell and the taste was awful. But he forced himself to swallow, smiling.

“See? I l-like it! So it’s GOTTA be good! Mipha is just, so talented!”

Link seemed satisfied, helping himself to a bowl. Mipha looked at Kohga, clearly worried, but he shook his head. 

“Make it up to me by getting some, Mipha.”

He muttered underneath his breath, forcing himself to eat more. Sooga had no problems, this asshole, eating fish like it was nothing. Mipha pretended like she didn’t know anything was wrong, giving her attention towards Link.

“So, Link! You’ve been over at the Gerudo desert, I take it. Urbosa is doing well, I trust?”

Kohga didn’t pay attention to the one sided conversation, too focused on handling the thick creamy broth. His stomach churned, his head hurt, and he was just. Dying. Not even Sooga could help him. He was going to bail, but he saw it in Mipha’s eyes. She was getting more nervous, and this was JUST from watching Link eat. Oh god this was a mess. He forced himself to think past the creamy mush still left in his bowl.

“So, Link, what do you think of Mipha’s new look? Nice right?”

Link looked her up and down, before giving Mipha a thumbs up. Her cheeks exploded in color, and she looked ready to just melt. Kohga tried not to gag at the fish burp he just had.

“And Mipha, thoughts on Link’s outfit?”

Mipha hesitated, letting herself get a look at him, totally not looking at that titty (atta girl), before softly nodding.

“You had it dyed white, it looks very...nice, Link. It really goes with your golden hair.”

Distracted by her thoughts, she played with a strand of his hair, before suddenly realizing what she was doing. They both looked away, buried in blush, just two, dumb, flirty messes. Oh his girl was KILLING IT. Kohga forced himself to gulp down his bowl (somehow not choking on the chunks), nearly gasping as he finished. Oh that was a mistake. That did NOT feel right. Didn’t matter, Mipha was GETTING somewhere with this guy. He whispered to her, nudging at her side.

“Offer him some of your food.”

“But? He has the same thing in-”

“Say yours is different. Just do it, trust me. Sooga! With me, kitchen, now.”

They dipped into the kitchen, and Sooga immediately handed him a bucket. Just in time for Kohga to purge his guts. Sooga patted his back, sighing.

“No one told you to finish the bowl, Kohga.”

“I am SUPPORTIVE, dammit! She deserves-”

Yet another purge of his guts. He groaned, relying heavily on Sooga to keep him upright.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m VERY proud of you. Going through so much for the sake of her happiness. You’re a wonderful person.”

“Sooga, that’s sweet, but dear god I’m throwing up here, shut the fuck up.”

Kohga was three for three, and he was wondering if it was worth it. Then he peered into the dining room. Mipha was spoon feeding him from her bowl, going so far as to scold him for his messy face, and cleaning it with a cloth napkin. It was adorable, it was sweet, and dear god was this worth it. Sooga chuckled, peering down at Kohga.

“You’re incredible, Master Kohga, letting her have this.”

“I AM pretty great, aren’t I?”

They sat there, watching them. For a moment, for a brief, sweet moment, she wasn’t shy. She was honest with herself, she was even just a bit flirty. And Link looked as if he wasn’t clueless. It was so goddamn sweet, it was worth every second of stomach pain. Kinda.

“Oh it’s coming again- he better marry this girl, or I’m starting the war all the fuck over again.”

He was complaining, sure. But he was really, honestly proud of his little Mipha. He’d do this again and again, if it meant getting to see such a sweet, happy smile.

He just prayed he didn’t have to.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//the wind goes right through you, it’s no place for the old

hey! i’m running out of things to say by now so here’s the next part. also, i haven’t counted but i think there’s only like three parts left after this, whaaaat? anyway, i hope you like it! it’s sort of a filler bit, but it is important! 

Lighting flashes through the permanently dark sky making your eyes snap open.

You sit up quickly, the memories of Christmas Eve hitting you instantly. The fight with Steve, the snow and then-

“Ow!” You quietly curse and look down at your leg. 

The blue jeans covering your legs have been dyed red on the left side and you know you’re going to be there forever explaining that to your mom. The hand print on your face was bad enough, but a bloodied leg and claw mark the size of your calf is going to be something else. 

Thunder rumbles through the sky and gust of wind blows through your hair making you shiver and wrap your torn jacket closer to you. You look up at the sky and watch as the blues, blacks and grey’s swirl together, and then it hits you.

“For fuck sake.” 

Well this is definitely the worst Christmas you’ve ever had, including the time your fish died when you were eight. Disappointment flickers in your chest at the realization that the mall wasn’t the last of it. Somehow you’ve ended up as the main person in a the story, and you most definitely would rather be the one throwing fireworks at a big, screaming monster. 

The feeling only grows when you think of Steve. The last thing you did was argue, and now you’re here. You’d definitely much rather be arguing with him, but now all of that is forgotten. It seems stupid to argue about names when you’re facing near certain death. 

You remember being told about Barb, what took her and what happened to her afterwards and you feel your blood run cold at the thought of the same happening to you. 

Ashes fall around you, almost like snow and you decide you need to stop dwelling on what happened and what could happen. 

You need to get out, and now. 

You push yourself up and groan when you feel your hand fall into something sticky, but you decide it might be best not to look at it, instead you just wipe it on your jeans and slowly stumble forward.

Your legs shake underneath you and you can feel blood trickling from your wound, but a ruined pair of jeans is the least of your worries.

It seems whatever took you, decided it wanted to get some last minute Christmas shopping done because you’ve been dumped in the parking lot of the mall. Which is 1, just inconsiderate. If they were gonna dump you, at least do it somewhere a bit nicer...not that there is anything nice here. And 2, it’s such a walk back to your house anyway, never mind when there’s tripping hazards all over the floor.

You’d think if they were going to invite company over, they’d at least clean up a bit.

Speaking of them, it seems oddly quiet here. It seems colder than you imagined, and even more run-down. The only noises come from the sky, but there’s no screams or screeches or thuds. It feels almost empty. Usually, that would be a good thing, but if the scary place is devoid of any otherworldly creatures, that can’t mean anything good.

The neon lights flicker eerily, almost as if sending a sign to the rest of the world saying ‘she’s here!’ and you give it a dirty look, despite it being an inanimate object. That stupid place has already given you enough grief to last a life time, you don’t need anymore. 

You quickly scan the floor, hoping to find something you can use as weapon, just in case something does decide to say hello, but the only thing you can see are dried vines and dead leaves. 

“Fucking great.” You mutter angrily and start a slow hobble back ‘home’. Your hoping that if you were taken by your house, they’ll be a way to get out back there. 

But the further you walk, the harder it becomes to believe. You wince with each step and try to focus on the dark road ahead of you, but the way the trees wilt around you and the buildings look even more run down than you’d expect, doesn’t fill you with hope. 

It looks dead. Okay, more dead that it already is. And you’re not entirely sure if that’s good thing or not. Your foot slides in something wet and you force yourself to look down and then instantly regretting. 

What looks like a rat lies with its guts hanging out on the side of the road and you have to force yourself not to puke. 

“Sorry.” You whisper and pull your gaze away from it. Something screeches in distance making you freeze. 

Okay, apparently it’s not that dead. 

Who thought Christmas was the perfect time to take a trip to the Upside Down, it certainly wasn’t you. 

You should have never come back to Hawkins in the first place, its a cursed town with cursed people and anyone who lives there should get as far away from it as possible and never look back. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you think of your family and friends. This year was supposed to be perfect. Everyone was going to be back together again, hoping to make new, happy memories to replace the horrible ones first found here. 

You hear heavy footsteps pound behind you, they get louder with each second. You twist and turn, trying to navigate where you are and if there’s any place you can hide, but it’s no use. You’re in the middle of an open road, and you know even if you did go into the forest and survived, you’d end up lost with absolutely no hope of getting out again. 

Lightening flashes again and then you see it. A few feet away a creature that you can only describe as one of Dustin’s old science experiments gone wrong. It’s a lot smaller than the others things you’d seen, skinnier, like it had gone weeks without eating. It’s back hunched and you could see its spine move when it did. Black eyes stared at you without blinking, but you were probably doing the same. 

Who blinks when they’re too scared to anyway?

If you close your eyes, you can imagine Steve, running in at the last minute with the now rusting baseball bat. He’d swing it around all cockily like he did before and then beat the shit out of whatever was trying to get you. 

And then after, he’d brush the hair out of his face, give you the famous Steve smirk and say something he thinks sounds really cool but actually just sounds lame. 

You’d tell him so when you were both safe and far away from Hawkins, and he’d roll his eyes at you but press a kiss to your forehead anyway. 

You close your eyes and accept your fate. You’re gonna be this things dinner, and there’s nothing you can do about it. 

But when you don’t feel anything, and when the noise gets quieter, you force yourself to open an eye. There’s nothing there, and so you turn around watch as it runs straight past you and into the woods. 

The last time a something like that ran past you, it was scared and desperately trying to protect its leader. But this one looks terrified, and you really don’t want to find out why. 

“...great.” 

[adarlingwrites]

Absolution

Summary:

noun: formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment

The Capital Wasteland lauded the Lone Wanderer as a hero, a Messiah, a savior who’s willing to give her life for the Good Fight. Beyond the legends, the propaganda, and the mythification that surrounded her legacy, there is only one person who knew her bare soul. She gave him his absolution, and now he will fight for hers.

XXVII

January 13, 2278.

Goddamn, not another killer hangover.

This time, I feel like a dozen brahmin trampled my skull. Never in my centuries of existence did I ever get this wasted. How did I even get home?

Opening my crusty eyes, I see the ceiling of Percy’s home, and looking down, I see Dogmeat lying on my chest, sleeping. I’ve been stripped out of my armor, wearing a clean shirt and pajamas that doesn’t reach my shins, and I feel clean. Damn, did Percy do that? I don’t mind, but I’m not a pretty sight to look at.

Sluggish as hell, I sit up, the dog waking up and giving my face a lick. I can smell something cooking, and damn, it smells good. My stomach grumbles, and I let out an awkward cough.

“Oh hey, Charon. You’re finally awake,” Percy calls out from the kitchenette.

Back turned against me, Percy was stirring something over the stove. I shuffled towards her, and pressed my cheek against the top of her head.

“Mornin’, angel.”

She gives me a soft chuckle. “It’s already the afternoon, big guy.”

Fuck. I slept for that long? “What happened last night?”

“I saw a mountain of a ghoul stumble around drunk in Gob’s Saloon, is what happened,” she replies, a lighthearted tone to her voice.

The events of last night came crashing back to me, and I buried my face in Percy’s hair in embarrassment.

I remember sitting next to Percy in the saloon, nursing my beer as she exchanged ideas with Moira. Half of what they’re talking about sounded out of this world. I can’t make any sense out of it, but it was nice hearing Percy’s voice. It’s good hearing her happy and enthusiastic again.

Then DeLoria’s goddamn voice breaks me out of my focus.

“Yeah? Yeah? I’d like to see you try, old man,” he blurts out from the other side of the bartop. What trouble has he gotten into now? Somehow, my instincts as a bouncer kicks in, and I stand up from my seat to look at what’s going on.

“You’re all bark and no bite, kid. Bet your ass would be on the floor before you can even finish a bottle,” said Jericho, the ex-raider.

Oh, a drinking contest. I thought I had a fight to de-escalate. Grumbling, I was going back to my seat, but DeLoria grabbed my arm and pulled me towards him.

“Well, I bet my buddy Charon and I can outdrink your crusty old ass.”

Boastful idiot. You just had to rope me in, huh?

“How much are you willing to bet, pretty boy?”

“Twenty-five caps,” DeLoria replies, setting it on the table. Laughing, Jericho set his money on the table too. “You’re on, asshole.”

“Hold on a minute, I don’t have caps,” I tell them. “I’m afraid I cannot participate in-”

Before I can even finish, the ex-raider flags Gob over. “Oy, Gob! We’re gonna have a drinking contest ‘ere, bring us more booze.”

Goddammit. I had considered taking a swing at DeLoria, but to my surprise, Percy saunters over with a grin.

A drinking contest huh? I’ve never done one before. Have you ever tried playing, Charon?”

“No. Usually, I’d be the one to break it up when one party’s already slumped on the bar.”

My partner gives me a conspiring grin. “Well, I’d like to try it. C’mon, big guy, let’s show these two how it’s done. We have caps to gain,” Percy replies, taking a seat next to me and tossing in fifty caps in the pile, covering my bet.

Gob set out four shot glasses in front of us, and people were starting to watch. If Percy is here, then I’ll make the most out of it. Maybe I’d end up carrying her tonight again.

Ten shots of vodka later, DeLoria washed out, stumbling off his seat and shaking his head. “Damn, I can’t do this anymore,” he blurts, running to the saloon door and shoving it open. He retches and the crowd bursts into laughter.

“Knew he'd wash out first,” Gob chuckles, refilling our glasses. Percy gently nudges me with her elbow, giggling.

“Hah! And the kid was the one to suggest the challenge too. Asshole,” Jericho mutters. “Just you, me, and the zombie, kid. Can you hold out better?”

“Call Charon a zombie again and I’ll fuck you up so bad, you’ll think getting attacked by a Deathclaw’s a back massage,” Percy slurs, eyes trained on the ex-raider. There was a hint of humor in her voice, but it was sharp; a guarantee that she’d follow through.

“Woooow. The little Vaultie’s finally all grown up, learning to curse like a true waster. First time you showed up in this town you were a pampered baby girl,” Jericho snaps back, snickering.

“And this pampered baby girl just took down the Capital Wasteland’s biggest slaver ring. Don’t try me, gramps. It’s time for the next round.”

That shut him up.

Eleven shots. Twelve. Thirteen. On the fourteenth, Percy raises both arms and shakes her head. “I’m at my limit,” she groans, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“And our amateur abolitionist is out,” Gob announces, taking Percy’s glass away. She slumps towards the bartop, turns to me, and gives me a thumbs up.

“Give ‘em hell, big guy!”

I found myself grinning at her encouragement.

We counted all the way to twenty shots. At that point, Gob was scratching the little skin he had left on his head.

“You two are gonna drink me out of business. Let’s do a tie-breaker,” he suggests. He turns to the shelf, and produces a bottle with green liquor in it. I vaguely remember serving a contract holder who drank that in Vegas and it smelled like death. He pours it in our glasses.

What the hell, is that absinthe? Isn’t he supposed to light that shit up first or something?

“Whoever can take a shot without puking their guts out later wins,” he announces, sliding us the drinks.

Jericho caught a whiff of the alcohol and his face contorts. Staring at the glass, I once again find myself questioning what went wrong in my life for me to get to this point, but I was having fun.

Three, two, one. The ex-raider and I drank the last shot at the same time, and I slammed the glass against the counter. Now the waiting game starts.

By the time it kicked in, I was seeing double, and Jericho fell out of his seat.

“We have a winner! Charon takes home a hundred caps!”

Everything around me is a colorful, rowdy mess. Nudging my shoulder, Percy grins at me and clings onto my arm. The best I could, I gathered the money and slid it towards my partner.

She gives me a questioning look. “Hey, it’s your caps big guy! Spend it on whatever you like,” Percy tells me, beaming, face flushed from the booze.

“Just… just hold on to it for now. Hell, spend it on something nice. I mean it,” I slur, resting my chin atop her head. At that point, I knew there were people whispering and gossiping about our closeness, and Percy probably knows it too, but I just didn’t give a shit anymore. I wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she let out a soft grunt from the squeeze. My vision isn’t the best at that moment, but I swear I saw the red spread from her face to her neck.

“Okay. If you say so.”

The events after that were a blur. Vaguely, I remember DeLoria almost crawling back in and getting picked on by wasters before Hannibal Hamlin, pulled him into a corner and chatting with him. Moira was deep in conversation with some random waster, and Gob poured himself and Nova a drink, joining the merriment. I’m not sure if my mind had made it up, but the radio was playing some old Pre-War torch song, and I was holding Percy by the waist, shuffling drunkenly and clumsily in a dim corner.

We had a conversation. I’m still trying to remember what it was about.

“How did we get home last night?” I asked her, delicately brushing down her hair that I ruffled when I leaned into her.

“Believe it or not, Butch and I dragged you back. He’s still asleep upstairs.”

Ah. Well, fuck. What a sight that must’ve been.

Looking over her shoulder, I see some kind of brahmin rib stew in the pot. Behind me, I can hear the patter of Dogmeat’s feet. The dog must’ve caught a whiff of that, too. On the unoccupied part of the stove, there was toasted bread slathered with brahmin butter. I’d never thought I’d be grateful to still have my sense of smell and taste. Even after all that binge drinking from last night, my dry mouth started to water.

“You said that I could spend your winnings on something nice,” Percy quips, shaking me out of the memory of the night before. “So, I made us a nice lunch. Get the bowls out for me, please?”

“How could you even cook while nursing a hangover?” I muttered as I fetched the bowls.

“Good old salt, sugar, and water,” said Percy as she ladled the stew. “Get these to the table and I’ll make some more for you.”

“Thanks, angel.”

I could practically picture Percy rolling her eyes at the nickname as she reached for the green pitcher at the top of the shelf, her laughter soft.

I set the food down on the coffee table, the broken television that once occupied it gone, salvaged for parts months ago. Meanwhile, my partner goes up the stairs to wake our guest up. DeLoria drags his feet, yawning and rubbing his eyes. Then, he sets his eyes on me. His hair is a goddamn mess, unlike the pomaded hairstyle he usually wears, and I couldn’t fight the urge to snicker.

“Oh. Hey. You were a bitch to carry back,” he mumbles, taking a bowl. He carves the meat out of the rib, slaps it on the bread, and eats. Percy joins us soon after, bringing a pitcher of the hangover cure.

I took a bite out of the food and fuck, this might be too luxurious for me.

“You should open a diner after you’re done kicking ass, Perce,” Butch comments offhandedly, using the bread to wipe the sauce off the bowl.

“I’d rather run a clinic, honestly.”

The two chattered idly, and Dogmeat was having his share of food as well, unseasoned scraps of meat and a bone to gnaw on. My focus shifts back to the two when Percy nudges me.

“What do you think, Charon? Should we bring Butch with us to Lamplight?”

“No. There’s no room on the bike.”

“Aw c’mon, you’ll draw attention to yourselves on that bike, plus you’ll need someone to watch your stuff from the kids.”

“Well, we could use a pack mule,” Percy comments, and Butch flips her the bird. “Hey, you said you’d watch our stuff for us.”

“Yeah, watch the stuff, not carry it or somethin’.”

Percy and Butch bickered for the rest of the afternoon as we prepared for our journey. Coupled with my hangover, the more I hear them chatter, the more annoyed I get. But I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t amusing.

DeLoria’s still an obnoxious asshole, and I’m still figuring out what I feel for Percy, but hearing Percy crack jokes and exchange jabs with her childhood friend brings me some reassurance that things will be fine.

Snow was heavier than ever. The clothes Moira gifted us came in handy as we started our trek to our destination. Aside from the odd raider and mole rats loitering about, we faced no real danger on the road, much to my relief. Aside from protecting Percy, I have to look after the dog and Butch too.

I’m not letting what happened in Anacostia repeat itself.

We travelled fairly fast, but it was too deep in the night to continue any further. Making camp in an old power substation. As I cleared the fallen furniture and the debris, Butch unfurls the bedrolls, while Percy looted the place clean, starting with the first aid box, thorough as ever. We didn’t eat dinner. The meal we had this afternoon was more than enough to keep us from going hungry tonight.

Falling asleep swiftly, DeLoria’s back is turned to the wall, snoring. Percy lies in the middle, eyes closed, but I know she’s not asleep yet. I lie facing the door, keeping watch.

Fabric shifts next to me as Percy sits up. “Hey. We never got to finish the first book I was reading you.”

“Which one?”

“White Fang. The one with the wolfdog on the cover.”

Ah. She’s right. I fell asleep at the last chapter of the book as she read to me months ago, and we never picked it back up, moving on to another one.

“I have it with me in my pack. Do you want to finish it?”

“Gladly.”

Leaning against the wall, Percy reads as I nudged her clothed thigh with my head. Voice soft so she wouldn’t wake Butch up, she continued narrating what became of the wolfdog, the main character in the story.

After being ripped away from his mother and caring human, enduring Beauty Smith’s cruelty, and learning to trust his new human companions, White Fang finally lived. He lived an idyllic, carefree life, surrounded by puppies and sleeping under the sun.

In some ways, the wolfdog reminds me of myself. But unlike him, I didn’t have any masters to serve anymore, and got a partner instead.

Now, the only thing that’s missing is the happy ending.

But that doesn’t exist in real life, doesn’t it? Not in this shitsack world. So I’ll take any comfort that I can get, and right now, having Percy beside me is exactly that.

Fine. The dog too. And maybe Butch.

My eyelids growing heavy, I drifted asleep.

This time, the dreams didn’t have pain in it. Maybe it’s because of the book, or just plain stupid wishful thinking in my part, but I dreamt of Percy and I.

I dreamt of the world before it was ravaged by radiation, the waters of the ocean reflecting the blue sky above us. We’re on a beach in California, and a child collects seashells near the shore.

Just like I did when I was a child.

Beside me, Percy plops down a basket of food, hiding under the beach umbrella while I bask in the sun.

“Son! It’s time for lunch! Charon, will you fetch him, please?”

I smiled at my wife and shook the dust off me to get our boy. He laughs and shrieks as I carry him, seashells in his arms.

Looking down at the clear waters, I see myself. Thick red hair. Clear blue eyes.

Untarnished.

If only.

[astarryon]

Simpler Times

Characters: The Hargreeves Siblings

Warnings: Mention of potential substance abuse, the ‘f’ slur is used in passing (not as a direct insult)

Summary: On one of the last nights where the kids get to be anything close to normal, Klaus suggests they have some fun. His idea? Heading over to the 24/7 doughnut shop and getting absolutely trashed on sugar.

A/N: this is nothing but me working through grief as I wait a whole year for the next season of Umbrella Academy to drop. These kids deserve love and happiness and if the writers aren’t gonna give it to them I’ll do it myself!! (That’s only kind of true, this is somewhat angsty lol). Anyways, enjoy, let me know what you think, and stick around! This definitely isn’t going to be the last Umbrella Academy piece I write!

Based on Five’s line about how he and his siblings used to sneak out to eat doughnuts until they puked

—

October 20th, 2002

Klaus tiptoed across the floor, unable to keep from holding his breath out of anticipation. He was much too tired to tell whether it was anxiety or excitement causing his heart rate to spike — maybe a bit of both? — but he didn’t have the time to stop and wonder about it. He was already short on time, and with everyone else already waiting for them downstairs, he needed to work quickly lest they be left behind.

Slowly, so slowly that he could hear the click of the knob unlatching, Klaus twisted the door handle and carefully pulled it open. There she was — he just had to make it to the far side of the room without startling her. If he could do that, he could invite her, and they’d all be home free for the next couple of hours.

“Vanya,” Klaus whispered, shaking his sister gently once he was close enough to touch her. He climbed up on her bed, kneeling at her side and leaning over her face. Vanya looked so calm when she slept; he had to envy her for it. With as much as their father had been throwing Klaus into the mausoleum in an effort to get him to comfortably commune with the dead, he hadn’t been sleeping very well lately. He wondered what it was Vanya dreamed about, and wished he could experience it for himself. All his dreams were of pale faces with their mouths stretched into never ending screams.

Klaus hated to wake her, but he was almost positive she would be glad for it. “Vanya,” he whispered again, a touch louder this time. “Wake up, okay? It’s important.”

Vanya exhaled hard, lips parting as she made her way back from the land of sleep. Her lashes fluttered a few moments, tickling Klaus’ face, and when she eventually opened her eyes, she looked confused. “Klaus?” she murmured, rubbing a hand over her face and pushing her bangs out of her eyes. “What time ‘s’it?”

“Like one in the morning,” Klaus told her, curling up on his side next to her. “Sorry to wake you. You looked like you were having a good dream.”

Vanya frowned. She was familiar with what went on at night, what their father had taken to doing to Klaus. There had been a couple of times when she’d even snuck over to Klaus’ room to keep him company, usually just until he fell asleep, but the two of them had been careful not to share that with any of their siblings. It was more for Klaus’ sake — Luther and Diego would never let him hear the end of it if he confessed to having nightmares.

“I was,” Vanya confirmed. “Want me to tell you about it?”

“Maybe later, okay? You gotta get dressed and come with me.”

Vanya scrunched her eyebrows in confusion, fighting off a yawn. This wasn’t the first night her brother had crept into her room; Klaus was a lonely soul by nature, and he seemed to oscillate between spending his nights with Vanya, Diego, and Ben — Allison, too, when she was feeling especially charitable — but this was the first time he’d asked her to follow him somewhere. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s great,” Klaus told her, nodding enthusiastically. “But we have to hurry, because the others are waiting for us downstairs, okay? You know how Five gets if we make him wait for stuff too long.”

“I don’t get it,” Vanya insisted. “What are we making him wait for? Where are we going?”

Klaus couldn’t contain his excitement anymore. “We’re getting doughnuts!” he exclaimed, hands shaking out of pure giddiness. “Just us seven, we’re all gonna sneak over to that twenty four hour doughnut shop and party! No Dad, no Mom, no Pogo. Just us and about a million maple bars!” Vanya’s responding frown wasn’t exactly what Klaus had been hoping to see. “Hey, what’s wrong? Don’t you wanna come?”

Vanya sighed, crossing her arms over her chest subconsciously. “Do the others want me to go?”

“What do you mean?” Klaus asked. “Of course they do!”

She wasn’t so sure about that. Her siblings weren’t exactly the greatest at including her. Five did his best, often staying up late to make peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches with her, and Klaus and Ben always roped her into their hijinks one way or another, but most of the time it seemed as if her siblings hardly even noticed she was there at all. Half of them probably wouldn’t even bat an eye if she ran off to join the circus.

“I don’t know, Klaus,” she mumbled, frowning at her brother. She pretended not to see the tired bags beneath his eyes, tried to imagine that her brother was a normal and well rested boy the way he deserved to be, one who wasn’t haunted by dead people in dark crypts. “I mean, should we really be sneaking out anyway? You know dad’ll flip if he finds out we left without permission.”

“He’s not going to because none of us are snitches!” Well, except maybe Luther, but Klaus was trying to inspire confidence, not break it down further. “Come on, Vanya, please? For your favorite brother ever?”

She was silent a moment, contemplating. It was no joke that their father would be pissed beyond belief if he found out they’d all snuck out; Vanya couldn’t even begin to imagine the consequences. Plus, they all had a strict wake up time of eight o’clock sharp; if it was already one in the morning, the seven of them were sure to be dead tired when they next awoke. Still... when was the last time they’d gotten to act like normal kids, powers or no powers? When had they ever been able to do something so silly? When would they ever be able to again?

“Okay,” Vanya murmured, sitting up in her bed and waiting for Klaus to right himself as well. “I guess doughnuts sound good. We don’t have any money, though, so how are we supposed to—?”

“Trust me, I have money,” Klaus told her. “Don’t worry about it! I’ll wait outside your door, okay? Make sure you put on something warm.”

“Got it, Dad,” Vanya teased, smiling at her brother. They were the same age, and Klaus certainly didn’t act like it, but Vanya liked to pretend that he was something of an older brother to her. “I’ll be right out.”

—

“They’re taking too long,” Diego complained, leaning his forehead against the nearby wall. He was doing his damnedest not to let the others know just how tired he was, but that was proving exceptionally difficult. “I say we just leave them.”

“That would be rude,” Ben pointed out, tugging his sweatshirt on over his head and stifling a yawn. He wasn’t afraid to look as tired as he felt.

“Not to mention that Klaus is the one with the money,” Five added. His head was covered with an oversized beanie, and the scarf wrapped around his neck only served to dwarf him further. He looked like an adorably oversized, half thawed toddler. “This whole thing was his idea, and he’s the one paying, so. No Klaus, no doughnuts.”

Allison rubbed her eyes, trying not to fall asleep where she sat on the bottom step of the staircase. “Where do you think he even got the money?”

“Probably stole it,” Luther muttered. “I’m still not sure we should be doing this.”

“If you don’t stop being such a killjoy,” Klaus announced from the top of the stairs, Vanya just a step behind him, “then you’re uninvited. We’re going out to have a good time, Luther, not to suck a rulebook’s dick.”

The comment won a collective chuckle from the siblings. Vanya covered her mouth, always amused at Klaus and his eccentricity, and Ben reached up for a high five as soon as the two had made it down to the foot of the staircase. Even Allison let out a bit of a giggle. She wasn’t one to admit it, but excluding Luther, she was pretty sure Klaus was her favorite brother.

Not that any of them would say it out loud, but Klaus was everyone’s favorite brother.

“Is everyone ready?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and patting a small wad of bills to make sure it was still there.

They all looked around at one another, making sure their affairs were in order. In truth, the seven of them looked ridiculous, what with their bundles of warm, black clothing. Vanya, pressed for time, had simply tugged her thick winter coat on over her pajamas, shiny black rain boots adorning her feet. Luther had oversized gloves obscuring his hands, which he kept rubbing together in an effort to gain some feeling back into his fingers. Diego — stupidly, in everyone else’s opinion — had forgone any particularly warm clothing, claiming that only sissies complained about the weather. Ben had taken one look at his brother and gone back to his room to put on an extra layer of clothing, partly because just the sight of Diego had him shivering in his boots, and partly because he wanted to make sure a coat would be available if his stubborn brother changed his mind. Klaus, the only one who had known this outing was coming, had been the most prepared and yet also somehow managed to look the most wild, wrapped in an oversized bubble coat and ready to take on any weather the night may throw at him.

If they were any older, someone might see them out on the street and think they were on their way to vandalize city property. Any younger, and people might’ve assumed that they were dressed as a gaggle of robbers, out to trick or treat at the wrong time of year. Either way they hacked it, this was, perhaps, the first time the siblings had looked anything close to normal in their thirteen years of life.

Their walk wasn’t a long one, thankfully enough. Griddy’s doughnuts was only a few blocks from the academy, and the cold temperature of the night was incentive for the kids to make quick work of the trip. There wasn’t much talking, save for the occasional complaint about the whether and Luther grumbling about how this wasn’t a good idea. Allison tried to convince him not to worry so much, though her words weren’t seeming to sway his paranoia. Klaus made a mental note to himself to thank her for her efforts sometime later.

“Are we even going the right way?” Diego demanded, trying not to let his shivering effect his voice.

“Do you want my jacket?” Ben whispered to him quietly.

“I’m not cold,” Diego snapped, crossing his arms tighter over his chest.

“Trust me, I know where we are,” Klaus responded. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Okay, but you’re sure?”

“Seriously, Klaus,” Luther added. “It’s way too late for us to be getting lost in the city.”

One of these days, Klaus thought to himself, his siblings would have enough confidence in him to take him at his word. Or maybe they wouldn’t. The truth was, he really didn’t care much either way.

“This isn’t the first time Klaus has come out at night,” Five murmured, tugging Vanya sideways by the hand to make sure she avoided stepping in a particularly large puddle. “He probably knows where he’s going better than we do.”

“You’ve gone to get doughnuts without us, Klaus?” Vanya asked, sounding particularly put off by the idea. She felt left out as it was, what with not being able to participate on family outings for crime fighting. Klaus tried to include her as much as he could, more than the others tended to, so to hear that he might’ve been going out on adventures without her hurt her feelings just a touch.

“Oh, no, this is the first time,” he answered quickly, offering her a kind smile. While Five wasn’t technically incorrect — fucking snitch — Klaus had never gone for doughnuts on his late night outings. In fact, the idea of his siblings finding out that he’d actually been making late night trips to buy substances to suppress his powers was terrifying to him. Klaus knew the look that Ben would get, knew that Luther would give him a self righteous talking to and Diego would fix him with a disapproving look. Vanya and Allison might be a bit gentler with him, if the slightest bit judgy, and from the sounds of it, Five already suspected what he was up to. Still... saying it out loud made him feel itchy. “Oh, look, there it is! Who doesn’t know where he’s going, brothers mine?”

Each of them looked across the street to where Klaus pointed, a bright, neon sign winking invitingly at them. For the seven of them, children who had been kept from the outside world in favor of practicing and honing their powers, often against their individual wills, the well lit interior of the doughnut shop was just about the most exciting, wonderful thing they had ever seen.

Diego took one look at the place and let out a shout of relief and desperation, dashing across the street and immediately making for the door. He wasn’t about to say it, but he was just about done with freezing his ass off to look tough. “Let’s go!” he yelled back at his siblings, wrenching the door to the shop open.

The other six exchanged glances with one another, their giddiness bubbling up and out of them. As Five was already grasping one of Vanya’s hands, Klaus grasped her free one and then reached for Ben’s with his other, who in turn grabbed onto Allison’s, who was already holding Luther’s. They all squeezed each other’s palms, reveling in this night of freedom and silliness and borrowed time to behave like children, and let out their own cheers of delight as they charged their way across the street, following in Diego’s footsteps.

—

“Uh... hello... ma’am,” Luther greeted the dumbfounded blonde, middle aged waitress behind the counter. He wasn’t sure why, but he strained to make his voice deeper. It didn’t change the fact that she was staring at him and the other six like they were some freak show — which, technically, they were anyway — but it was enough to make him feel a little more adultish.

“Are you kids lost?” the woman — Agnes, if the name sewn into her uniform was anything to go by — prompted. Her eyes got wide in a way the kids weren’t quite used to. Normally when people were staring at them, it was because they were curious, or they wanted to try and catch a glimpse at them using their powers. This lady seemed more concerned for them than they had ever seen an adult be before. “Where are your parents?”

“We’re old enough to be out by ourselves,” Diego told her politely, trying his hardest to look neither guilty nor disrespectful. “Could we order some doughnuts? Please?”

Agnes glanced between the seven children with wide eyes, taking in the sight of their oversized clothing and pink cheeks as each of them in turn gave her suspiciously innocent grins. She couldn’t be sure whether they were runaways, didn’t know where they had come from or why they were out so late. The only things Agnes did know for certain was that it was nearly two in the morning and below freezing outside. One of the children wasn’t wearing a jacket, and the rest of them looked like they’d just stepped into the White House, they were so amazed. She couldn’t just kick them out... but...

“I’m sorry, kids,” Agnes told them, hating herself for having to steal their excitement away. “But I really can’t just let you sit in here. This is a business, and—“

“Oh, don’t worry!” One of the boys, the tallest of the bunch, stepped forward and climbed up on one of the barstools, shoving his hands into his pockets. When he brought them back out, he dropped several wadded bills — large ones — on the counter in front of her. “We’re paying customers!” When Agnes only managed to stare further, the boy hesitated, glancing at his siblings and then back to Agnes somewhat nervously. “This... that’s enough, right?”

More than enough, actually. Just a cursory glance at the bills that boy had offered up told Agnes there was enough money there for a dozen doughnuts at least six times over. Still, though, where were the kids’ parents? How had they gotten here? Were they plating hooky? Were they trying to escape from authorities? Agnes really should go in the back room and make a call to the authorities, right?

Then again... who was Agnes to deny these kids their fun?

Sighing and resigning herself to the fact that an angry adult could show up at any time, Agnes pulled out her pen and her order pad. “Make yourselves at home, kiddos,” she told them, smiling gently and looking each of them over as they other six climbed up onto stools. “What’ll it be?”

—

 “So, are you gonna tell me why you had all that money?”

Klaus glanced sideways at Diego, not bothering to hide the slight flinch he’d given out of surprise. Diego was always quiet, annoyingly enough, and Klaus had found himself on the other side of a never ending prank war because of it. 

“Don’t see why that’s any of your business,” Klaus replied. He didn’t mean to be unkind, but his siblings were a bunch of cryptic assholes, and Diego was especially dramatic. Could anyone really blame him if that caused his anxiety to spike? “Not like I robbed a convenience store or anything, so you can drop the wannabe Batman voice.”

“I’m not doing my—“

“There it is again!” Klaus teased, pointing a playful finger at Diego’s chest. “Come on, dude, you have to know you don’t sound as tough as you think you do!”

He was deflecting, and he knew it was stupid obvious, but if it got him out of Diego’s interrogation then Klaus could overlook his own shitty acting skills. Besides, it wasn’t like he was acting too much to begin with. He really was happy to be out with his siblings, happy that they could stop pretending to hate each other to enjoy a sweet treat with one another, if only just for a couple of hours. Klaus knew this wasn’t going to last forever, and couldn’t be entirely positive that it was ever going to happen again, but he was just happy that he knew for a fact that his siblings were having a good time because of something he’d done, if only this one time around.

“Hey, I’m macho as hell, scrawny ass,” Diego shot back, unable to help his own little chuckle. Klaus liked his brother best when he was willing to drop his act like that. “And you’re changing the subject.”

“I saved it,” Klaus mumbled, letting his gaze wander over to the shop counter. Vanya and Five were busy seeing how many donuts they could stack atop Ben’s head without the tower falling over. Allison and Luther were whispering conspiratorially to one another, wide, stupidly happy grins on each of their faces. “And I took some stuff to the pawn shop downtown the other day. Guess I was just excited to spend it. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Diego gave his brother a long, blank stare. It made sense Klaus wouldn’t think he’d know any better; all the siblings were generally a bit distant from each other, confused as to whether they should consider the others allies or competition, and Diego made it clear which way his opinion swayed. Still, though, that didn’t mean he never paid attention. His siblings were competition second, family first. Not even their father’s repetitive droning would knock that idea out of his head.

“Let me try again,” he eventually sighed, fixing Klaus with the sternest expression any thirteen year old had ever managed to muster. “What were you gonna do with that money before you decided on a family donut trip?”

“Does it count as a family trip if Mom and Dad aren’t here? And, do we count Pogo, or—“

“Klaus.”

Klaus sighed, suddenly finding the neon vibrancy of the jukebox he’d crossed the room to peruse particularly fascinating. 

“I... you remember when I was sick last month?” He kept his eyes on the jukebox’s track list, but made sure to focus more on Diego. This was a sensitive topic for Klaus, and while he was never embarrassed to share his feelings, he was a bit scared of what his brother might think of him after hearing what he was about to say.

Diego thought a moment, trying to remember the incident Klaus was referring to. “That time you cried every time you swallowed ‘cause your throat was so sore?” He’d been worried Klaus was going to die of laryngitis or whatever he’d been sick with, not that he’d taken the time to express that out loud. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Right, that’s the time.” Jesus, this jukebox was filled with a lot of old school crap, wasn’t it? “Well, anyways, Mom gave me some NyQuil one night, just to help me get to sleep. I don’t think she liked seeing me in pain.” He paused, feeling his eyes growing threateningly warm. “She didn’t know Dad was planning on throwing me in the mausoleum again that night.”

It was silent for a few beats, and Diego scratched the back of his neck in confusion. Klaus kindly ignored the slight horror on his face at the mention of the mausoleum. He’d known their father made Klaus undergo particularly cruel experimentation, but Diego tried not to think about it too often. Shit was depressing, after all, and sympathy wasn’t going to do Klaus any good. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything,” he said simply.

Klaus frowned, searching for the words but unsure whether he actually wanted to find them. “It’s just... I didn’t see any ghosts that night. Usually they show up as soon as Dad locks me in, but they weren’t there. You know that’s the first time I’ve ever not seen a ghost outside the house?”

He tried not to sound too excited, but that was hard to pull off. Klaus was so used to living in terror, not that his father cared. He liked to think his siblings might, but any worry they offered him wouldn’t be productive, considering they had about as much power as Klaus did. It was a terrible situation that he was powerless to stop, making the fact that he finally had a way to help himself his greatest accomplishment in life.

“Mom gave me more the next night,” he continued, pushing the words out. “And I didn’t see anything then, either. Dad doesn’t even let me take ibuprofen because it’ll inhibit the ghost goggles, you know? But the NyQuil kept knocking me out, so I figured I should try something a little... stronger.” There it was; his big secret. “I was going to try it tonight, but I got too scared and didn’t want to be alone. I had a little money left over and figured you guys would wanna hang out with me if I had doughnuts to give you.”

Diego blinked, trying to make sure he understood correctly. This was the one time he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. “So, you... you bought...?”

“Drugs,” Klaus finished. “Yeah, I did. It’s just weed, but I hear it’s not so bad, and you don’t get, like, addicted. Better than some of the other stuff, y’know?”

Diego was still having trouble processing. His brother Klaus, the freest, most carefree person in the house, was experimenting with drugs? Klaus, who never seemed to be bothered by anything or anyone? Who let Allison paint his nails and flipped off the asshole kids who waited outside the house with the rest of the crowds just to call him a faggot for it with a shiny black-tipped finger?

Klaus was hurting?

What a stupid question. Of course Klaus was hurting; they all were.

“Don’t tell the others, okay?” Klaus pleaded. He clasped his hands tightly in front of him, hoping against hope that Diego would be as cool a brother as he knew he could be. “If they tell Dad, there’s no telling what I’ll—“

“That’s your business, dude.” The words had come out a bit rougher than Diego had intended, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t tell if he was more horrified that Klaus wanted to stoop to as low a level as taking drugs to numb his powers instead of facing them, or that their father had been the one to drag Klaus down to that point in the first place. “It’s got nothing to do with me, just... be careful with it, alright?”

Klaus’ face softened as he understood, able to see through the curtain of Diego’s barbed words. “Love you too, brother. What do you say we go shove some doughnuts down our throats?”

“Sure, Klaus,” he sighed, watching as his brother finally selected a song from the jukebox before heading back over to their siblings. The urge to say something about what his brother had just admitted — Diego wasn’t sure what he could say, only knew that he should say something — wasn’t easily fought off, but he managed. For the sake of this desperately sought out good time between the siblings, Diego let it go.

It wasn’t until he was a few years older and saw just exactly what Klaus would become that Diego wished he would’ve said something, anything to derail the path he’d allowed his brother to take that night.

—

“I’m gonna... oh my god, I’m gonna puke,” Ben muttered, clutching at his stomach in agony as they all trudged home. “I knew I should’ve stopped at that eighth custard filled one. The doughnut holes really messed me up.”

Diego — now noticeably wearing the extra jacket Ben had made sure to bring — carried his brother along, slinging his arms tighter around his shoulders. “What, you would’ve rather gone down like a coward? No, dude, you did good.”

“Yeah,” Allison sighed, leaning heavily on Klaus. Normally that was a position reserved for Luther, but Klaus’ height made him a better standing pillow. “At least you didn’t actually throw up.”

Klaus laughed hard, ignoring his sister’s dirty look. Poor Allison had only made it about four jelly filleds in before running outside to hack her guts up. He wished he’d had a way to record it, if only so they could all laugh about it together later on. He guessed they’d just have to settle for memories.

“I’m gonna pass out,” Vanya sighed, stumbling a bit over a crack in the sidewalk. Five made sure to reach his arms out to catch her, just in case she actually did fall. “Does anyone know what time it is?”

“It was almost four when we left Griddy’s,” Luther muttered, furiously rubbing his eyes in an effort to stay awake. “Are we almost home?”

“We’re literally two feet in front of the mansion, you big baby,” Five scoffed. “God, I’m still coming down off that sugar high. This was such a good idea.”

“Everybody say ‘Thank you, Klaus,’” Klaus teased, shifting his grip on Allison so he could lean forward and pull the door open. He half expected his father or Pogo to be waiting for them all at the door, ready with a shaking fist and a sharp reprimand, but the foyer was dark and no one was to be seen.

“Thanks, Klaus,” Allison murmured down at his side. She smiled at him kindly, using the fact that she was already leaning against him to engulf him in a tight hug. “Really.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Diego chimed in as he and the rest of the siblings shuffled inside. “This was... really cool of you. We love you.” That last sentence was punctuated with a meaningful look, and Klaus had to try really hard not to let it mean too much to him.

“Thanks, Klaus,” Vanya murmured, darting forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

They all took their turns thanking him, hugging him, telling him they loved him and each other. It was the kindest they’d ever collectively been, and that fact was enough to make his chest grow warm.

Klaus watched as, one by one, his siblings disappeared to their rooms, sleepy smiles on their faces and their stresses and anxieties temporarily relieved. Maybe they didn’t get along all the time; maybe they were all obsessed with outshining the others so that their father would like them best. But Klaus had managed to give them all the gift of childlike excitement, had made it possible for them to let go of their worries for a little while. The fact that he had that knowledge, that he knew he’d been responsible for making everyone fell better, that?

That was magical to him.

He went upstairs to his room, changing into pajamas and taking one look at the box on his night stand, the box where he was hiding the drugged brownie he’d managed to get his hands on before disregarding it entirely and moving to get some sleep. His siblings might not have realized it, but they’d given him a gift in return for the one he’d offered. None of them knew it, not even Klaus himself, but sneaking out together to go get donuts and make happy memories together had bought Klaus his last two weeks of sobriety.

But, then again, no good deed ever truly went unpunished. Five would go missing in the next week, lost to a stupid desire to prove that he could time travel, and Ben would die horribly the week after that, leaving Klaus the only one who could speak to him for the rest of his days. Luther and Allison were closing themselves off, Diego was pushing him away, and he couldn’t stand to look at Vanya anymore because he knew Five wouldn’t be beside her like he always used to be.

So, eventually, Klaus ate the brownie, then began experimenting with other, stronger things, and before he knew it, he’d all but mentally checked out of reality. Let his surviving siblings call him a coward, let his father consider him the greatest disappointment imaginable, Klaus didn’t care. As long as he could numb the pain, as long as he could look back on that happy memory of the donut shop and forget everything else that had happened to both him and his siblings, he would be fine.

Because finding bliss? Being happy?

That was all that mattered now.

Klaus would never see a sober day again for the next sixteen odd years, but as long as he had that last good memory to hold on to while he was doping up and numbing the pain, he didn’t much care.

[thenobodyhasarrived]

Writing Abuse

So, I just realized a big pet peeve of mine: people incorrectly representing food issues and abuse in all media but mainly books. As someone who was abused as a child I thought to make a list of some of the big things I see off the top of my head. This is on mobile and my abuse was largely centered around food so keep that in mind.

1.) Hiding food:

I've seen some stories, a lot of times fanfiction if I'm being totally honest, have the idea that as long as the abuser does not see the person being abused eating that it has been successfully hidden. That is, usually, extremely incorrect. whenever I read a character just taking from the pantry when a parent figure is asleep, I get incredibly stressed because that would have gotten me in a huge amount of trouble. A big part of hiding food is what I like to call cushioning. Cushioning is when you do not eat the first or the last of anything, ever. If you open a package then it is far more likely to be noticed. If you are the last one to eat something then the package has to be thrown away and the loss of the package becomes much more noticeable. people are much less likely to notice a little bit of something taken from the middle. Unless the abuser has multiple children and abuses each of them in a different way or only abuses one of them, and unless those non abused children stick up for the abused kid and realize that food is being deprived from them, then the loss of the food is very prominent.

2.) Obtaining ≠ Success

So another thing is that it's not just about eating the food, it's about being able to keep down the food. If the character has been abused this way for a long time then it usually becomes kind of ingrained that eating is bad all of the time. I am almost perpetually hungry but I cannot bring myself to eat enough to fill my stomach more than half of the time. I once didn't eat all day and then made myself a plate of spaghetti, ate a single bite, and then stared at the plate for 4 hours after because even though I was ravenous I could not eat the food for the life of me (this often results in stress which could result in crying or anger or complete dispassion depending on how a person responds to trauma.) so it's not just about being able to get the food to eat, it's about being able to physically and mentally make yourself eat.

3.) Behaviors

I want to preface this with saying that my father was the one who abused me and I haven't seen him since about between the ages of 12 and 14, and I am 18 now and I still experience these behaviors. Being possessive over food is a very big behavior. A lot of times these cues are subtle and even the person experiencing the behavior might not know what's causing it. One of my behaviors is that whenever I eat something off of a plate I will curl my arm around it, no one really notices because my posture is very casual it kind of looks like I'm just steadying the platw but in reality it's so that no one can take my plate or take from my plate without my permission and so that I can hunch over/snatch my plate if need be. Being giving with food is also a common behavior. Just the phrase "I haven't eaten" sends me into a panic regardless of who's saying it. I once overheard a conversation between two people that I didn't know at my high school, it was exam week so we were not having a lunch that day we had to bring our own, and one kid said that he fainted the day before because he didn't drink anything for a few days and then I heard the dreaded "and I haven't eaten" which was compounded by "in days". I gave him my water (of course), I think I gave him a granola bar and maybe also a Pop-Tart. I offered to give him money so you can go to the vending machine. And then I told him the only reason I wasn't giving him more was because his stomach probably couldn't take that and I didn't want to make him puke. I had a friend with anorexia and I would give her parts of my lunch every single day I would split it in half,and that was as young as an elementary school because to me when you have the opportunity to eat you have to take it because you don't know when you won't be able to eat next. so there is some dikotomy there and if you're writing it or experiencing this it can swing from both sides of the spectrum rapidly or stay on one side of the spectrum or just have certain situations that make their behavior swing. In my household I used to have to ask every time before I ate and the answer was often no. so even years after whenever I open the fridge even if the house is empty I will still ask if I can eat something or I will avoid eating something because it hasn't been opened and I can't pretend I didn't take anything later.

4.) Trash

Under no circumstances should the food your character is hiding end up in the trash.if there's even the slightest chance that the parent might find a rapper or an apple core in the trash then it does not go there. I used to eat apple cores stem and all because it was easier to hide the fact that I ate apples that way. I had my granola bar wrappers and things like that in my book bag and then I would throw it away once I got to school and when there were no school times I would either keep them hidden somewhere in my room until I could dispose of them or I would take them and throw them away at a friend's house. This is something that only works if the abusive parent also does not search the child's belongings.

5.) Food Hoard

The character will almost definitely even years after the abuse have a place where they hide food. Even if other people know that it exists, they still need to be reassured that should they want to they can eat whenever they have safe food from a safe place. a food horde is filled almost exclusively with non-perishable items because they're easier to hide because they don't go bad.

6.) Gaslighting

gaslighting is essentially when someone tries to convince you that something that did not happen did happen or that something that did happen did not. It's something that's very common with abusers. An abuser will ask if they've ever broken a promise and you're supposed to say no even though they have— I've always been a bit slow when it comes to social cues so even with my siblings begging me to lie and say the right thing I was very blunt and I would say yes which would result in worse things. it's not something I see as much as I think I should see in any story about abuse because even physical abuse is usually compounded by some sort of mental abuse. The abuser will try to paint themselves as a decent person when they are anything but, they will say that it was your fault and you made them mad or that they wouldn't hit you you just misremembered because you fell and hit your head and haha what a klutz! I'm including false justification with gaslighting and by false justification I mean things like "my side of the family is prone to obesity and I just don't want you to be fat I want you to be healthy that's why I'm doing this it's to keep you healthy it's a good thing". even if an abuser knows they're in the wrong they will not admit it unless they have to keep their victim complacent somehow, and even then it will be an apology that ultimately pins the blame on the victim or some sort of backhanded compliment etc

There is so much more but as I am on mobile it's already getting lengthy on my screen. whether someone is experiencing abuse and wants help dealing with it because it's a situation they can't get out of or someone wants help writing an abused character, feel free to either reblog this with a question or comment with one or two directly DM me if you want to stay more private. My abuse also extended into verbal and a little bit with physical but not a lot and of course emotional. I'm pretty open about it and I don't mind talking about it now because I'm comfortable, so genuinely feel free to ask me questions I will not mind.

[cherry-imagines]

Hello, i've just found your blog, I hope it gets more popular. Could I request how the SDC gang would be as parents?

Thank you, I really hope so too! Popularity would mean that people actually like my work and that is all a writer could ask ever ask for!

Joseph

• 3 words: pampering, pampering, pampering. He is going to pamper and spoil his child to infinity. They’ll have all the new toys, clothes, bottles, food… Everything. He knows he can afford all the best and that is exactly what he’ll do.

• He’d feel a bit weird at first, but would deal with being a parent pretty well. It’s not his first time, so he’s got plenty of experience up his sleeve.

• One thing he wouldn’t be prepared for would be the long nights though. Holly was a pretty calm baby and would only wake up once, if at all, throughout the entire night, so hearing his second child scream at half past four in the morning would come as a great surprise to him and, honestly, even as a slight annoyance at times. He would be quite stressed and would thus have slight troubles putting them back to sleep, but would soon find it worth it when he’d manage to put them into their bed, all tiny and absolutely adorable.

• His favorite period would probably be when they’re a toddler, still small and innocent, but growing more mischievous by the minute. He’d play with them all day long, causing all sorts of trouble, until they both become so tired they just collapse and fall asleep someplace together.

• He’d hate dealing with them when they’re a teenager though. He can’t stand the drama and mood-swings, and would probably end up making someone else deal with that instead of him. When he does have to deal with it, he’d act very annoyed at first, but would quickly get caught up in all the drama and would start throwing in his own remarks here and there. They’d badmouth his child’s classmates and acquaintances alike for hours at a time, and he’d soon start coming to his child to vent about his own problems. (They’d continue with this habit for the rest of their lives)

• He’d be a pretty amazing dad, really. He might not act very serious at times when he’s supposed to, but that will only work in his favor. His child will be able to relate to him more like that and it would definitely be the key to them becoming as close as they do.

Jotaro

• (Slightly angsty, just warning you)

• Honestly, Jotaro would be pretty bad at parenting.

• When his child’s still a baby, he’d be too afraid of hurting them to hold them long enough to just put them to sleep. He can be quite rough and is well aware of that, and would try to stay away from his child while they’re still so young in fear of somehow bringing harm upon them.

• He’d only muster up some confidence to hold them properly when they’re already old enough to support their own neck, and by that time they’d already feel much closer to their mother. (or a nanny, if the mother is gone. Jotaro would feel too insecure to raise a child alone and would definitely get one)

• He’d soon realize his child often cries while in his arms, doesn’t fall asleep with him as soon, or doesn’t eat as well, and would leave almost everything back to their other guardian. He’d feel like he doesn’t deserve to be in his child’s life and like he would just do an awful job at being a parent, and would only grow more and more distant.

• His child would grow up thinking he doesn’t love them, and he’d grow up thinking they don’t love him. It’d be a really bad relationship overall.

• He would have to receive an enormous push from someone close to him to try and fix their relationship. It’d be really shaky at first, but they’d both soon realize they have more in common than they’d like to admit.

• They’d only grow closer from that point onward, eventually reaching the bond only a father and child can share. They’d realize the bond is equally as strong even if achieved later in life, and they would be really grateful for that.

• Their relationship wouldn’t be a usual one, and definitely not a good one at first, but would grow into something great in time under the right circumstances.

Kakyoin

• The best father ever.™

• He’d be very gentle and cautious with his child, the most when they’re a baby. He’d be able to spend hours just carefully holding them in his arms, telling them how much he loves them and how thankful he is to have them in his life. He’d have the softest look on his face, just looking at them, feeling the happiest he’s ever been.

• Because of how alone he felt as a child, he didn’t really get the chance to live out his childhood the way he was supposed to. He would try to make up for that by doing as much as possible with his child as an equal.

• They’d have lots of fun when his child is younger, playing all sorts of games and doing practically everything together. They’d often be found walking together, eating ice cream (always with cherries on top for the both of them) or some other sort of sweet and planning out how they’ll spend the rest of the day. They’d be each other’s closest friends and it’d really be a sight to behold.

• He’d have a way of cheering up his child when they’re feeling down, knowing exactly what they want, that no one can really understand. He’d see them moping around and would immediately run off somewhere without letting out a single word, only to return later with just the thing they needed. Then he’d sit them down and ask them to tell him what’s wrong. He’d patiently listen to their problems and suggest ways to fix them or make them better. Those conversations would always end in his child thanking him with the biggest smile on their face and running off to follow their father’s advice. Kakyoin would be watching them from where he sat in pride with an equally happy grin on his face.

• He’d have a lot of trouble dealing with the mood-swings that come with puberty, not knowing what his child needs for the first time in his life and feeling like he can’t do anything right by them. The bond they built up before would become truly crucial at this point. It’d be his turn to sulk now, and his child’s to cheer him up. It will be like what they did when his child was younger, except it would be them to give him reassurance now. Just like he is able to comfort them, they’d never fail to convince him that he’s the best father anyone could ever ask for.

• They’d stay close for the entirety of their lives, removing every obstacle they come across and, most importantly, doing it together.

• He’d be his child’s best friend throughout their entire life.

Polnareff

• He would be a very caring and protective father.

• When they’re a baby, he’d spend a lot of time cuddling and cooing at them. He’d take lots of joy in feeding them, bathing them and playing with them. He’d roll over in laughter every once in a while, not being able to resist the urge to do so at their cute antics. They’re just so adorable.

• It’s another thing entirely when it comes to burping them and changing diapers though. The first time his child pukes on him after burping would cause him not to willingly attempt to do so for a while. When he finally makes up with the fact that it’s unavoidable, he’ll start burping them again, but the distaste would be very obvious on his face. He will never get used to the diapers though.

• When they’re older, he’ll still love playing with them, but would also grow to love talking to them. They’d be able to hold decent conversations at this point, and he’d ask them about their day every day after they come home from school. The closeness they’d build up at this time would be the thing that gets him through the teenage years in one piece, really.

• He’d soon start teaching them how to fight, trusting they’re old enough not to use the abilities they gain for bad. He’d only teach them self-defense at first, still a bit worried, but he’d make it his task to eventually teach them everything he knows so they can hopefully even surpass him one day.

• When his child’s a bit older, not much has changed. They’re still as close as ever, maybe even closer. They talk to each other every single day and do a lot of things together, a lot of Polnareff’s interests and habits rubbing off on them.

• He’d be an amazing father, just a tad overprotective, especially if his child is a girl. He would be in constant worry that the same thing that’s happened to his sister will happen to her too, and would refuse to let her out of his sight for a single moment.

• He’d be much less protective of his son, but would definitely start teaching him how to fight at a really young age, just to make sure he can properly defend himself.

Avdol

• The best father ever. No one can hold a candle to Avdol in terms of parenting. (except Kakyoin, those two would make absolutely amazing fathers)

• When his child is still a baby, his first instinct would be to shower them in affection. He would be a really loving father and there would rarely be a moment when he’d let them out of his arms.

• He’d do everything he can for his child in order to spend as much time with them as possible. (and to help the mother, if she’s alive/with them) He would feed them, burp them, cuddle them, bathe them and change their diapers, no matter how much he dislikes that last part of the job. It comes with being a parent and has to be done, so he won’t complain.

• Nothing would give him as much joy as putting them to sleep though. Even if it could sometimes be a task quite hard to carry out, and could last for hours at times, there is nothing quite like feeling your own child lay their head against your shoulder and fall asleep. He’d feel an overwhelming bond between them at that moment, relieved they trust him enough to fall asleep against him. He would truly feel like the love is equally strong on both sides at that moment, even though one is still too young to fully comprehend it. He might even shed a few tears of happiness the first few times this happens.

• He’d be a really calm and seemingly strict father, but under that mature mask hides just a little bit of mischief. He will scold his child for doing something bad or pulling a prank on someone in public, but would occasionally give them tips on how to improve and not get caught the next time afterwards.

• He would be the wise father. (if such a thing exists, but even if it doesn’t, it does now) His child would really look up to him and think of him as the wisest person in the world. They’d be in awe of how he can easily answer every single question they throw his way. They’d feel incredibly lucky to have a smart father who is never too harsh with them, and even when he is, he’d make sure they fully understand why he’s being hard on them.

• He would bond with his child as they grow and get more and more mature, because the more grown-up they get, the better they can understand him. They would become truly inseparable later in life, and his child would often come to him in need of advice, or just someone to talk to. Avdol would be more than happy to oblige both.

• In conclusion, there’d be a really strong bond between him and his child that’d last an entire lifetime.

Bonus:

Joseph

• I think Joseph would only have one (legitimate) child other than Holly, and I have a feeling it would be a girl as well.

Jotaro

• I can also see Jotaro having only one more child along with Jolyne, but being equally distant towards both. He’d make sure their name starts with a “Jo” too because it’s become pretty much a family tradition to do that at this point.

Kakyoin

• I can see Kakyoin wanting a lot of children, but at the same time being very afraid he’ll leave at least one feeling unloved or like he doesn’t spend enough time with them, so he would just tell himself it’s a bad idea. His S/O would have to be quite convincing to get him to try for more, but when his next child is born, he’d feel like he’s in heaven. He’d find that he can balance both really well and would ask his S/O if they’d be willing to try for one more not too long after their second child is here.

• I think he’d have 2-4 children, his first child would be a boy and at least one would be a daughter.

Polnareff

• I can honestly see him having twins, but if not twins then an older daughter and a younger son. He’d definitely end up naming his daughter Sherry, after his sister, or at least making it her middle name. or he’d name her Marylou because of Michel Polnareff’s song

Avdol

• I can see him wanting a lot of children, just like Kakyoin, but without the fear of them feeling left out by him. He’s full of love and not afraid to share it. He’d just be slightly worried about finances, but that’s nothing to worry about when you have a big and happy family. He’d be alright with having 6 children at most, but is really more than alright with it if his S/O wants much less lol

I wanted to write how they’d be with a child who also has a stand ability too, but I realized it’d be just too long if I did that… 😔👌

Hope you liked these! 💖

[nehasy]

Dear Brother

Vision of Escaflowne fanfiction

A series of letters between Dallet and his twin brother, an apprentice madoushi.

Dear bro,

I can’t even begin to tell you how amazing this place is!  I know you’re going to lecture me about it all being classified, but if I don’t tell someone, I’m going to burst!  We’re on the flagship!  Can you believe it!?  It’s huge!  Seriously huge!  We’re talking the size of the north wing of the Academy huge!  I’ve already gotten lost twice if you can believe it...stop smirking you ass.  At least I’m doing better than Guimel, remember him? The little mouthy guy from the Academy?  The one who looks like a sheep is trying to mate with his head?  He’s here, and he got lost once on the way to the cafeteria that we actually had to send out a search party.  We found him down by the engine room and waaay out of bounds.  Ever try to sneak your way through a heavily guarded floating fortress when you can barely tell left from right without being seen?  It’s not fun.

Oh sure, you’d have just sweet talked your way out of there like always.  That still drives me nuts by the way.  There’s no way you got through the Academy with a perfect disciplinary record.  I know you, you social deviant!

Anyway, We have our own little wing on the Vione.  There’s barracks, a conference room, a gym and a small lounge.  Gatti has already decided that the lounge is going to be just for us.  Anyone else who gets added onto the team is going to have to find their own place to relax.  This is ours dammit!

Things really aren’t what I expected here.  I mean, the fortress is amazing, state of the art everything, and the Strategos... he’s sort of mind bogglingly terrifying.  No one should be that tall... or that gloomy. I’m also pretty sure he can read minds.  When he looks at you, I swear he’s looking right through you... also, he’s really good at finding and confiscating any illicit material being brought on board. Pretty sure he’s not human.  

Oh!  I have a partner now!  His name is Shesta and he’s sort of weird.  He comes from a small border village where they worship some stupid rock and think that you can trap a spirit in a piece of hair or cloth.  He’s a cute kid, but ugh, he’s sort of like cousin Tansin.  I swear that there’s no way he’s ever going to become a soldier.  Don’t get me wrong, he’s really sweet, but the other day I caught him in a restricted area feeding bloody birds or all things!!  I think his brain might be a little broken.

So how’s the Science Academy?  Did you get a cloak yet?  Do I have to call you sir?  Can you throw fireballs?  Viole says that Madoushi can do that sort of thing... course... I think Viole’s mom drank a bit too much when she was pregnant with him...he’s not quite right in the head.

Dammit, lights out. Write back!

Dearest Moron,

What part of classified fails to breach that thick brick you call a skull?  If your message had been intercepted, you’d have been summarily dismissed from service and likely sent to a work camp.  Not to mention, Mother would have gutted you like a pig and danced on your entrails!  For future letters, I am enclosing a cipher for a code we will use.  Do try to follow it, I did my best to keep it simple so as not to strain you too badly.

In all honesty though, I do miss you and am glad that things are going well.  In answer to your questions.  No, I do not have a cloak yet. Yes, you call me sir, not that you will ever bother to even though I’M the one with the noble title (I point out for the fiftieth time this colour) and as for your final question.... that’s classified.

Don’t tease your roommate.  I know you still will because you’re an ass, but do try to understand that the border towns have... unusual beliefs, but it doesn’t pay to discount them too lightly.  I’ve seen many strange and un-explainable things, try not to piss off powers you don’t understand.  If you can’t quite grasp that concept, simply remember the time you pulled the tail of father’s horse.  Picture that in your mind then multiply it by a factor of ten.  Also, there’s nothing wrong with feeding birds.  I happen to like them.

Just so you know, the Strategos CAN read minds.  How do you think he always has an answer for everything and is never surprised?  The man is a genius and you should always give him your utmost respect.  I’d suggest several books that he’s written, but I know you won’t bother reading them since they don’t involve heaving breasts and accompanying pictures.  That was NOT a thinly veiled suggestion for you to draw said pictures in one of his books.  If I hear of you doing that I WILL report you, you philistine.  

Now for the important bit, and fuck being classified information.  Tell me about your damn captain!!  You know that’s the only reason I told you that you could write to me.  What’s he like?  Is he really as good as the stories?  Is he really as gorgeous as they say?  I hope you know that I expect an autograph or something for my birthday which I might remind you is coming up shortly.

I wield the forces of Time and Space.  It’s important to appease me at all costs.

Dear Wielder of the Forces of Time and Space,

Mother said that some of the older apprentices locked you and two others in the storage closet for the night.  Bet those fireball throwing skills really would have come in handy.

I know, I know, I’m not using your stupid code.  It was dumb and paranoid and I’m not indulging in your cloak and dagger fantasies.  Be glad that I’m taking the time to even write to you and yes, my handwriting is particularly bad because I’m so tired that I can barely hold a pen.

Your precious beautiful dream captain is a nightmare made flesh.  Seriously.  I’m pretty sure that he’s actually trying to kill some of us.  We’re up two hours before dawn doing stretches and warm ups, then he has us running laps around the Vione until someone pukes.  I’m not being sarcastic at all.  Shesta’s thrown up twice, Viole and I once, poor Guimel has thrown up three times.  Miguel, Gatti and Ryuun haven’t yet, but I still hold out hope.

The worst thing is that the Captain runs right along with us, making us all keep up to him and the pale assed bastard doesn’t even break a damn sweat!!! Then, after we’re all trying to not have heart attacks from sheer exhaustion, he has us spar!  It’s supposed to be something about instinct over intellect, that our bodies are supposed to know how to react even when our minds have shut down.  It sounds like utter bullshit compared to what our instructors at the academy taught us, but seeing the guy fight....

I’ve never seen anything like it.  When he moves, it’s like trying to watch the wind during a storm.  He just tears through his opponents and the guy has no concept of mercy.  All of us have spent time in the infirmary already and I’m pretty sure that I’m permanently going to be various bruise colours for the rest of my life.

It’s tricky being on his team.  He’s a stickler for rules... only, they’re not the usual rules we were taught in the Academy.  He has his own set, and you follow them above all others unless you want to be  kissing the floor.  The problem is... I don’t think he really has permission for these new rules, because we keep getting in trouble with the other units... and the Strategos, and pretty much every other unit on the fortress.  Still, as crazy as it sounds, I’d rather have the Strategos made at me than Captain Albatou.

Stop daydreaming about him.  He’d eat you alive and pick his teeth with your bones.

As for the rest of the team, we’re forging bonds of brotherhood in our joined suffering.

Gatti- He’s an arrogant know-it-all ass.  You’d probably like him.  The guy has no sense of humour at all and I’m pretty sure his face is an elaborate mask of some sort because I’ve never seen him so much as have a single expression.  He’s brilliant though and never seems to lose his cool, believe me, we’ve all tried to rattle him.

Shesta-I amend my initial impression.  He’s nuts.  But it’s a fun nuts.  I’m positive that he actually enjoys annoying the Captain and so far he holds he record for the most times knocked out.  The guy is stubborn and fearless, even if he is a little weird.  He’s also got a huge crush on the Captain and I swear he just acts up for the attention.

Guimel- he’s suicidal, that’s all I can figure.  He is second place for most times knocked out and I’m pretty sure he’s only still on the team cause the guy fights like a cornered rat.  He’s a vicious little monster and snarky, but he’s decent enough when the Captain isn’t around.  My gidaru is on him trying to stab the Captain in his sleep before the week is out.

Miguel- Arrogant, snide, uppity... you’d think he was a noble, but he’s from some northern village I’ve never heard of.  He’s like you in the fact that he’s always studying something boring and then explaining it at length to the rest of us.  I think he’s trying to impress the Captain, but so far it’s not working.  He and Gatti are at the top of the team so far and always competing against each other, it’s sort of fun to watch.  They’re either going to kill each other, or fuck by the end of the colour... we have a betting pool going.

Viole- I like him. He’s crazy in a good way and knows not to prod the damn dragon of a captain.  I’d prefer to have him as my partner rather than Shesta seeing as how we enjoy hanging out, but I can sort of see the logic behind the selection.  Viole and I like to just hang out, smuggle in the odd  illicit shadowgraph (Which somehow the captain ALWAYS finds) and explore the ship.  He looks like a girl, which was sort of creepy at first, but really... everyone on the team is... pretty.  Am I pretty?  Ugh, talk about an identity crisis.  I always considered myself to be roguishly handsome.  Viole says that all I’m missing is some padding on the chest and I could have a field day with the infantry guys.  Ugh... mental images.  STOP LAUGHING!

Ryuun- he’s a stick in the mud.  Rules rules rules.  I swear that he reads rule books when he’s taking a crap.  Granted, he’s never in trouble and he tends to keep Viole (his partner) more or less on task... no small feat by the way.  Sometimes he’s not so bad, he did cover for me one night when he caught me coming back to the barracks after hours...  He’s a good fighter and really has a head for strategy. I sort of feel sorry for him when the Captain has us free spar when exhausted, he tends to get his ass handed to him, but anytime we’re doing any strategy based training, he’s incredible.  

Anyone of note on your end?  I mean, other than the losers you got locked in the closet with?  I hope you at least had a little fun to kill the time.  When do you get an actual assignment?  Do you guys do any crazy experiments?  Can you summon draconians or anything cool like that?

Dear Pervert,

No, I did NOT “have a little fun” during that debacle and who told you about that anyway?  I won’t get an actual assignment until I complete my apprenticeship thesis and am selected by a Master to work under them. Yes, I am working on one and don’t worry, I won’t bore you by telling you about it, but it IS fascinating and uses words far too large for you to properly comprehend.  

As for crazy experiments... there have been a few.  We learned (the hard way) that combining varidium with Alurium ore then adding heat as opposed to cold will turn your hair a rather shocking shade of pink.  Yes yes, laugh while you can.  My hair will grow our but you dear brother will always be a moron.  We did have one bad accident though, a young woman was badly burned by some acids during one of our experiments and from what I’ve heard, she might never recover.

I’m sure you’ve seen your share of battle wounds already, but watching someone’s skin melt off their bones... smelling it... I’m a firm believer in following proper safety procedure now, no matter how boring and tedious.  We all are.  It sort of makes me wonder if the instructors had arranged for the accident to happen as an object lesson.  I know... it sounds like my usual paranoia... but sometimes you hear things... odd rumours and what not that make you rather reluctant to wander the halls late at night or poke around in places you shouldn’t.

I honestly don’t know what you’re complaining about really with your training.  I’d kill to be in your shoes and you damn well know it.  So you’re sweating and are all bruised.  Cry me a damn river.  You’re training under the brightest Captain in Zaibach history and part of an elite unit that will likely be pivotal in the glorious future of our Empire.  You’re going to learn how to pilot a guymelef!  For that alone I’d do anything to experience even just once.  Remember how lucky you are and think of me stuck reading dusty tomes and fiddling with disgusting ingredients which might very well melt me to pudding if I blink at the wrong time.  Which of us do you think is more hard done by?

Seriously though, you need to stay out of trouble.  Don’t put your position at risk just for a few laughs of a roll beneath the sheets.  If you get any of those ladies with child you’ll be discharged, not to mention what your Captain will do to you.  I’ve been hearing stories about his temper.  (This in no way lessens how much I worship him mind you and I still expect that autograph, but I’ll settle for a lock of hair.  Remember that you love me.)

I’m glad you’re getting along with your team, you were always the shy one out of the two of us.  It seems so odd that destiny deemed that I’d be the intellectual while you’d be the big bold warrior.  Just because I could never completely bow to fate’s whim, I’ve enclosed a book I think you’ll enjoy on advanced mechanical theory. You likely won’t find this on your ship’s library... that is IF it even has one, but it’s part of our reading curriculum and I thought of you when I saw it.  Are you still building things?  Maybe you should spend your spare time doing that rather than plundering young maidens, it will likely advance your career much more effectively.

Lastly NO!!! I have not summoned any draconians!!  What sort of idiot would want one of those things lurking about!??!  What part of hideously cursed being have you failed to understand!??!  Ugh, they blew up their damn world you idiot.  I don’t want them on this one.

Read the damn book. I WILL quiz you.

Dear Brother,

I almost died today...

The Captain tried to kill me.

Ever been executed for gross negligence?  Ask me how!

Gatti got promoted to second in command... he saved my life today.

[danfanciesphil]

A spooky prompt where one of them ends up possessed? I leave the rest to you babe

this excites me!!

I'm gonna do the Supernatural version of possession as im a massive spn nerd fan hope that’s cool!

xx

Prompts are temporarily closed for the time being! Thank you all for your submissions, I’ll be posting the ones I have in my inbox asap!

If it were anyone but Phil, Dan might never have noticed a difference. 

Dan can be a little self-involved at the best of times, so if one of his other friends changed their manner of speaking, or began dressing in an unusual way, or stopped eating as much, or did anything that even slightly deviated from their normal routine, Dan’s not sure he would pick up on it. 

But he spends every day with Phil. He knows every little thing about the guy, from the side of his mouth he starts brushing with the toothbrush first, to what theme song he’s most likely to be humming when he first wakes up. 

It’s honestly a little creepy, how well he knows Phil Lester. He finds himself having to play it down in front of other people, because they would undoubtedly find it more than a little odd. After all, it’s not like he and Phil are married. They’re just close friends. 

So when Phil doesn’t come back for almost three hours after he told Dan he would one evening, after a meet up with his brother in town, it’s not all that surprising that Dan begins to worry. 

He texts Phil three times. He calls him. He leaves two voicemails. 

It does nothing to quell Dan’s anxiety that Phil doesn’t respond to any of them. 

Eventually, when Phil does roll in at around nine in the evening, he expects a fantastical story and a long, detailed explanation of how Phil had been roped into a weird drama with some stranger or other, or how he’d clumsily dropped his phone into the Thames. 

Instead, Phil just gives some vague answers to Dan’s questions, rolls his eyes at Dan’s ‘dramatic overreaction’ and slinks off to his room. He doesn’t re-emerge for the whole night, even though they’d made plans to watch the next episode of Bake Off together. 

After that, it only gets stranger. 

Phil begins leaving the house for unexplained, prolonged periods, never bothering to tell Dan where he’s going. He barely speaks to Dan when he is around, and there’s something odd about his voice when he does. It still sounds like him, but the lexicon is wrong, like he’s forgotten how he used to construct sentences. He sounds too formal now, like he’s speaking with a total stranger.

Dan begins to worry that he’s hiding something big. Perhaps something has happened, some family tragedy that’s preoccupying his brain. But Dan can’t help but think that, if this were the case, Phil would surely tell him. 

They tell each other everything. They haven’t kept a secret from each other in years - it’s just easier that way. Besides, they’ve gotten to a point in their friendship where they’re pretty sure there’s nothing that could tear them apart. 

One night, Dan makes dinner, and keeps it in the oven on a low heat until Phil gets home from wherever he is. 

As soon as the door clicks, Dan jumps off the sofa, ambushing Phil in the hallway before he can disappear into his room for the night. 

“I made spaghetti.” Dan blurts at him as Phil removes his shoes. 

From the way Phil reacts to the information, it seems as though he’s never even heard of his favourite dish. “Oh.” 

“Come and eat.” Dan commands, walking back towards the kitchen before he can listen to whatever excuse he’s sure Phil is about to make. 

Phil follows after a while, a bored expression on his face as Dan hands him a hot, steaming plate of spaghetti bolognese. Phil stares down at the food, his nose crinkling in distaste. 

“I didn’t put cheese in, so don’t bitch at me.” Dan says with a chuckle. Phil raises an eyebrow, and takes the fork Dan hands to him. 

He follows Dan out to the dining room table, sitting down after some hesitation, probably because he’s not sure what else to do. 

Dan looks at him for a moment, then decides to just try and be normal. He digs in, winding the spaghetti around his fork and pushing it into his mouth. It’s delicious, he must say. He’s no Gordon Ramsay, but Dan knows how to make a damn good bolognese. 

After a while, Dan glances up at Phil to see if he’s enjoying it too. The fork lies motionless beside Phil’s plate, his food untouched. 

Dan pauses, registering this with some concern. “Don’t tell me you’re not hungry.”

Phil shrugs, glancing around the room, disinterested. “Guess not.” 

Dan places his fork down, staring at him. “Have you even eaten anything today?”

Phil smirks at him. It’s an unusual expression to see on his face. “Why would I eat if I’m not hungry?”

Dan just stares more, perplexed. “To keep you alive, for starters?” Phil laughs, shaking his head pityingly. “Besides, you love food. You’re a self-admitted ‘secret eater’. Is something wrong? Are you sick?”

Phil grins, unnaturally wide. For some reason, it sends the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck upright. “On the contrary, I’ve never, never felt this good.” 

“Right.” Dan mutters, turning his attention back to his plate. 

He picks up his fork again, at a loss for what more to say. His own appetite has dwindled though, and he just twirls the fork around, playing with loose strands of pasta. What once seemed like a delicious, sauce-covered carb-fest, now seems like a lukewarm, slimy pile of congealing worms. He lowers his fork again, disgusted. 

He’s just about to push his plate away, when he sees something move. He peers closely into the depths of the spaghetti, trying to work out if he’s hallucinating. No, there’s definitely something moving in there. 

The thought of it turns his stomach, and Dan pales. He peers closer, trying to see into the mass of spaghetti. 

All of sudden, he realises that it’s all moving, every strand, all of it wriggling and squirming about, just like-

“Holy shit,” Dan cries, clapping a hand over his mouth. He’s seconds away from puking. “Is that-”

“Wow,” Phil says, tutting. Dan glances up; he’s reclining on his chair, tilting backwards a little on the hind legs, watching him with that same smirk. “No wonder I’m not hungry. You’re trying to serve me worms.” 

Dan shoves his plate away, terrified. What the fuck is going on? 

“Is this a fucking nightmare?” He asks, feeling dizzy with nausea. 

Phil cackles, scooting his chair a little closer to Dan, moving around the side of the table so that they’re sat together. 

“You know, in a way I guess it kind of is, Dan.” Phil tells him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

Even through the fabric of his t-shirt Dan can feel how cold he is - unnaturally so. He flinches away, scooting backwards. 

It doesn’t make sense, but he feels scared of Phil right now. Why on earth would he be scared of his own best friend?

“What’s- what’s going on, Phil?” Dan asks, eyes flicking left and right, searching for an escape. 

“Oh, aren’t you sweet.” Phil says, picking up Dan’s discarded fork and licking the tines clean. It makes Dan shudder; how can he do that, knowing it was just covered in worms? “Philly’s not really able to answer right now, I’m afraid.” 

Dan balks at him, wondering if Phil has lost his mind. 

He glances down at the plate of spaghetti, and sees no trace of the wriggling worms from a moment ago. Which makes him wonder if it’s him that’s losing his mind. 

Phil’s left hand is splayed out on the table and his right grips the fork by its handle. In one, fast, decisive movement, he brings the fork swishing through the air, stabbing the four prongs right into the back of his own left hand. 

“What the fuck!” Dan exclaims, jumping forwards to grab Phil by his wrist. 

It’s too late though, the fork is already penetrating Phil’s flesh, pushed in so deep that Dan wonders if he’ll be able to pull it free. Blood bubbles to the surface at once, dribbling out from the holes into which the metal tines are wedged, trickling over his hand and onto the table beneath. 

“Phil, fuck, why did you-” Dan cries, flapping his own hands because he has no idea what to do. “What should we-”

Belatedly, Dan realises that Phil hasn’t made the slightest noise throughout all of this. He hasn’t so much as whimpered in pain. Warily, Dan drags his eyes up to meet Phil’s, and he immediately jumps backwards, knocking over his chair in his haste to get away. 

Phil’s eyes are jet black. From corner to corner, they are completely, opaquely onyx. Two black holes staring out from beneath his windswept fringe. 

He cocks his head to one side, smiling. He appears to be observing Dan, nothing more. 

Dan’s gaze jumps from between the fork sticking out of his skin, to the terrifying lack of Phil’s usual Bambi-blue irises in those monstrous eyes. 

“Your eyes...” Dan chokes out, feeling his own eyes start to sting in fear. 

All of a sudden, his chair is upright, facing Phil, and Dan is shoved down into it by some unseen force. He tries to move, to wriggle even, but he can’t. It’s as if he’s tied to it somehow. 

Phil pouts in mock-sadness, his lower lip jutting out, and he nods. “Scary isn’t it, Dan?” He says, then smirks at Dan’s expression. “Phil’s eyes are a little prettier than mine, I suppose.” 

He blinks then, and suddenly Phil’s eyes are normal again, that same baby blue peeping out as if it had never left. 

Dan stares at him, trying to piece together what he’s hearing. “You’re... not Phil.” 

The not-Phil smiles, toothily, and winks at Dan in a way Phil never would. 

“Caught on at last.” 

“Who are you?” Dan manages to choke out, though he’s not sure he wants to know. 

The not-Phil sighs, leaning back in his chair. “More a question of what, really.”

Dan waits, not trusting himself to speak. 

“I’m a demon, Dan.” It says, watching him carefully.

Dan struggles not to scream. His heart pounds incessantly. The demon smiles. 

“You’re possessing Phil,” Dan deduces, swallowing around his tight throat in terror. 

“Bingo,” the demon says. “He’s a very comfy vessel, too. Tight. Warm. Soft.” 

“Get out of him.” Dan spits, anger rippling over his skin. “Leave him alone. He’s never done anything wrong.” 

The demon places a hand over Phil’s heart - the one with the fork still jutting out - and sighs. “So sweet. So caring for your bestie.” The demon licks its lips, surveying Dan silently. “He’s in here, you know. He can hear what you’re saying. He’s been screaming at you to notice I’ve taken control for days.” 

“I’ll get you out, Phil.” Dan says, his voice raising. “I will, I’ll do something, I’ll-”

“Shh, shh.” The demon interrupts, and Dan’s mouth clamps shut of its own accord, not listening to him as he tries to prise it open. “All that gushy stuff is so boring. And you’ve just started to capture my interest, Danny.”

He releases Dan’s mouth, at last, and Dan gasps, rolling his jaw around. “What do you want from him?” 

The demon makes a ‘hmm’ noise, tilting back on his chair again. “Good question. You see, the thing is Dan, us demons are getting kind of... bored, as of late. There’s just not a whole lot to do nowadays. People are smarter. They know not to practise witchcraft, or use ouija boards. Sure, you get some dumb ones now and then, but mostly it’s just kind of...” The demon flaps his hands, then shrugs. “Dull.” 

“So you’re possessing a random, innocent guy for the kicks?” 

“No,” the demon sighs. “This is not a random decision, Dan. I chose your best friend very carefully. I did a lot of research before entering him. I don’t take these possessions lightly, you know.”

“So you did it because, what, he’s YouTube famous?” Dan asks. “There are tons of YouTubers. Plenty who deserve a demon inside them more than Phil. Why didn’t you climb inside Sam Pepper? I doubt anyone would even notice.” 

The demon cackles again, and Dan cringes. “How do you know Sam Pepper isn’t already possessed?”

Dan hadn’t considered this. He shrugs the thought away, deciding he can think about that later. 

“It’s not just because he’s a YouTuber.” The demon says, smiling wickedly. “Though it’s to do with that. It’s about your fans, Dan. Both of your fans. They’re so committed to you. They’d do anything either of you would say. They cling to your every word, they throw themselves at your feet, they spend thousands of dollars to wear your names on their clothes, or to play the games you invent, or to send you a message that they know you’ll see.” 

Dan listens, despising the way the demon is framing this. “You make it sound like Phil and I are the leaders of some kind of- of-”

“Cult?” The demon supplies, grinning too wide. Dan says nothing, narrowing his eyes. “Yes, that is sort of how it seems, isn’t it? And oh boy do I love a good cult.” 

It’s sickening, watching this come out of Phil’s mouth, but Dan forces himself to pay attention, to act like it’s not his best friend’s face with his eyes closed in pleasure at the idea of thousands of people being manipulated into mass suicide. 

“When cults get it right, they’re just... delicious to watch.” The demon says, licking along Phil’s lower lip. “All those people, willingly trundling to their own deaths just because of a few cleverly worded speeches, and a dash of false hope...” The demon’s eyes open, flashing black for the briefest of moments. “That’s the most dangerous thing in the world, you know, Dan. Hope.” 

“Our fans are not going to do whatever Phil tells them to do.” Dan says firmly. “You’d have to be an idiot to listen to a fucking YouTuber when making life decisions. Our fans are not stupid. They know that Phil is just a regular guy who films stupid things in his bedroom.” 

The demon laughs, that pitying look in his eyes again when he looks at Dan. 

“Oh Danny,” he sighs, the nickname making Dan’s skin prickle. “You underestimate their devotion to you. Besides, it’s already working.”

“What?” Dan asks, paling. 

“I started out small, of course.” The demon shrugs, getting out his - Phil’s - phone. “Tweeted some things. Asked them for a few favours. Look, here’s one I did today.”

He holds up the phone for Dan to see. There are two tweets on the screen, from AmazingPhil’s account. 

@AmazingPhil Hey guys! Thanks for sending all the pics of your cute dogs yesterday! I have a different request for today o.O [1/2]

@AmazingPhil Take your dogs for a walk somewhere you’ve never been! The quieter the better. Bonus round: if you see a stranger, make friends! Everyone wants to be talked to! Good luck! [2/2]

Dan’s mouth falls open, and his stomach plunges to his knees. “Oh my God. The average age of our fans are fourteen to seventeen.” 

The demon giggles, nodding excitedly. “How many teenage girls do you think will have gone missing by tomorrow?” 

“Fuck,” Dan whispers.

“I’ve done some other stuff too. Brainwashing fans on the street, encouraging them to explore old abandoned houses, or wander into dangerous parts of town, that kind of thing.” The demon sighs happily. “It’s going well, I think I’m getting the hang. I’ve worked out how to sound just like him! I’m thinking of making a video tomorrow asking for some help taking down a few of the more popular YouTubers. You know, spamming their channels with hate, spreading rumours about them sexually assaulting people, all that stuff.”

“That’s so evil.” Dan says, horrified. 

The demon looks at him oddly. “Uh, I’m a demon, Dan. Evil’s in the description.” 

“I’ll stop you.” Dan whispers, his eyes glistening. He means every word, though. “I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll stop you.” 

“Aw,” the demon says, pitying. “No you won’t, Danny. Cos I’m gonna keep you under wraps until I need you! And when I do, I can keep you from saying anything I don’t want you to, like this!” 

Dan’s mouth clamps itself shut again. He struggles, trying to open it, but it’s useless. The demon giggles, releasing him. 

“Then Phil will stop you,” Dan hisses, his jaw clicking as it unsticks itself. “You said yourself he’s in there with you. He can fight it. He can stop you from doing this.” 

The demon stands then, a slow smile spreading over Phil’s lips as it crowds into Dan’s space. Phil’s hands press into Dan’s shoulders as Phil’s face moves towards his. 

In a different context, Dan doesn’t know how this might make him feel. Being close to Phil, in a physical sense, has always been confusing. He used to think that it was because his mind didn’t know how to separate close friendship from romantic feeling, but recently he’s been wondering if it’s something more than that. 

Perhaps the real reason Dan never allows himself to linger too long in a hug with Phil, or to keep their arms linked past a brief thirty seconds or so, or let Phil sleep on his shoulder during long flights or train rides is more to do with the fact that Phil’s eyes are a sharp, penetrating cobalt blue. Perhaps it’s because Phil smells like cinnamon buns and cherry blossom trees. Perhaps it’s because Phil is witty, and he’s kind and loyal. Perhaps it’s because he’s intimidatingly clever, and everyone loves him the second they meet him in a way Dan envies. 

Suddenly, there’s a weight piling into Dan’s lap, and he holds his breath when he sees his best friend’s figure towering above him, one knee either side of Dan’s legs on the chair. 

He swallows, forgetting for a moment that this is not Phil, not really. His hands move instinctively to Phil’s hips. Then, Phil’s eyes flash black. Dan’s hands snatch themselves away. 

The demon laughs. 

“So you think Philly can fight his way out? Honestly, it’s kind of sweet how you two think of one another.” The demon says, smirking cruelly as he stares straight into Dan’s eyes. “I can read all of Phil’s thoughts, you know. D’you wanna know one of his deepest secrets, Dan?”

“Get. Out.” Dan says, wishing he could move to push the demon off him.

The demon ignores him, grinning again. “He loves you, Dan.” 

Dan’s heart stutters. His mouth parts. He tries not to react, because it’s what the demon wants, but he can’t help it. 

“He loves you with every inch of his poor little heart.” The demon continues, sighing. “A shame really. He’ll never get to tell you that himself.” 

“You’re lying.” Dan says, his eyes already stinging with tears. 

The demon shakes its head, slowly. “Cross my heart! Well, Phil’s heart. He’s loved you since he met you. Since you kissed him on the Manchester Eye, all timid and bashful.” The demon reaches out to pinch Dan’s cheek, hard. “Adorable.” 

“Phil,” Dan whispers, looking into the eyes he knows so well, trying to see through them into the depths of Phil’s soul, to find the piece of him still lurking inside. “Phil, I didn’t know...”

“Ugh!” The demon cries out. “What did I say about the gross schmaltzy stuff? Do you want me to clamp your mouth shut, Dan?” 

The demon climbs off his lap, rolling its eyes, and releases the invisible bonds tying Dan to the chair. Dan immediately stands, dumbstruck by the use of his limbs again, not sure what to do now that he has them back. 

The demon sighs at him, folding its arms. “Well, fun’s over I guess. Wanna be locked in your room till I need you? In the bathroom?” 

Dan takes a step towards him, not sure of his plan. He crowds into the demon’s space, making it frown in confusion. 

“Phil,” Dan says hurriedly, knowing he only has seconds before the demon clamps his mouth shut again. “I know you’re strong enough to beat this bitch, okay? You’re the best, bravest, most incredible person I’ve ever met. And I love you too. Obviously.”

The demon rolls its eyes dramatically, lifting its hand to do some weird demon magic, but Dan acts fast, slamming his lips into Phil’s before it knows what’s coming. The demon struggles at first, not expecting it, but Dan just kisses and kisses, trying to reach into the depths of Phil’s mind with his own - to use the strange connection that has tethered them to one another for all these years and haul him out of the depths. 

It doesn’t happen right away, but Dan can sense, even as he kisses the cold lips of his best friend - the lips that are so Phil, and yet so not-Phil that it makes his head hurt - that the demon is struggling with something internal. 

He doesn’t push Dan off, though he could, quite easily, were he at full power, Dan is sure. Instead, he seems distracted, muffled noises escaping from his mouth as he battles something unseen. 

Then, so fast it’s a little terrifying, Phil rears back, gasping. He throws his head back, and screams as a viscous stream of black smoke pours out of his mouth and disappears through the ceiling. 

A minute or so passes, Dan watching in alarm, and then Phil collapses onto the floor. Dan throws himself down beside him, taking Phil by the shoulders and trying to shake him awake. 

After a while, Phil blinks sleepily, swimming back into consciousness. 

“Dan?” He croaks.

Dan lets out a laugh of relief, but it comes out more like a sob. “Hey,” he says through his tears, his hand cradling Phil’s face. “Hey, it’s me. Is that you in there, Phil?”

Phil nods, looking exhausted. “What’s- what’s going on?”

Dan pales, realising that Phil has no idea what he’s doing on the floor. Which means... he likely doesn’t remember any of being possessed. 

Or... anything else. 

Dan swallows. It’s not important right now, he tells himself. “Nothing. It’s okay, you’re just... tired. I’m gonna take you to bed, okay?” 

Phil nods, seeming confused, but allows Dan to help him to his feet. 

After some quick, improvised first aid on Phil’s hand (the fork had fallen out somewhere in the midst of the demon exiting Phil’s body, thank God), Dan slings Phil’s bandaged hand over his shoulders. With some stumbles and unsteadiness, they make it to Phil’s room, and Dan tucks him under the covers fully clothed, not prepared to divest him of clothes after everything that just occurred. 

“Okay,” he says, switching off Phil’s bedside light. They’ll talk about it in the morning, Dan tells himself. “Night, then.” 

He turns to the door, sighing. 

“Where are you going?” Phil asks, sounding bewildered. 

Dan turns back towards him, not understanding. “To bed.” 

“You tell me you love me, then want to sleep in your own bed?” Phil asks. 

Dan’s heart skips a beat. What?

“You... remember that?” 

“Pretty hard to forget something that big.” 

“But...” Dan protests, not sure why he’s even arguing at this point. “On the floor just now, you acted like you didn’t know why you were- like you didn’t remember-”

“I only remember bits from the last few days.” Phil says, sounding confused still. “I remember not being able to move my body. Being trapped. I remember shouting at you for help but you couldn’t hear me.”

“Yeah,” Dan whispers, trying to imagine how awful that must have been. “Um-”

“I remember you kissing me.” Phil says then, a smile clear in his voice. 

Dan chuckles, shifting on the spot. “Um, yeah, that er... that happened.” 

“I couldn’t kiss you back though.” Phil tells him, sounding sad. 

Dan clears his throat. “We could... try again, maybe.” Dan cringes at his own words, wishing he wasn’t so bad at this. “I mean, if you want.” 

There’s a silence, and Dan wishes he could hoover the words back up into his mouth. 

“Come here.” Phil says at last, the urgency of it piercing through the darkness. 

Dan goes to him, obediently, clambering under the covers beside him. He lets Phil wrap his arms around his waist, lets himself be pulled in. 

Even in the darkness, there’s no doubt that it’s Phil now, Dan thinks to himself, placing a hand over Phil’s stuttering heart. 

“We should, um, get some protection.” Dan says without thinking. 

Phil laughs awkwardly. “Uh, I mean, sure. I’m kind of tired right now though...”

Dan flushes deeply, covering his face with one hand. God, he’s a twat. 

“No, no, I mean- fuck.” Dan shakes his head, marvelling at his own stupidity. “I mean like, anti-possession stuff. Sage. Little charms. Tattoos, maybe.”

“Oh,” Phil chuckles, “right. Yeah. Okay. Um, why?”

Dan pauses, realising that Phil doesn’t really know what happened, still. 

“Just trust me.” 

Phil leans in then, kissing him softly, sweetly, but so deeply, and with such intensity that it leaves Dan reeling. 

“I do,” Phil tells him, smiling. 

[dvbermingham]

Chapter 14: Tako

He shrieked when he saw me. I get it. I’ve been shrieked at before. A unexpected pulpy man lying on the couch, totally understandable. The shriek was loud and dramatic and he feigned like he was going to run, almost like he was acting, like he was on camera.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I guess Vicky didn’t call you.”

“No Vicky didn’t call me. Vicky never calls me.”

“I’m Lou.”

“Oh well Hi Lou. A friend of Vicky’s, I presume? Not just some derelict she found on the street? It wouldn’t be the first time, you know.”

“We just met, so I don’t know why. She said she liked how I danced.”

He scanned me up and down. “This happened to you dancing?”

“No, afterwards. Backroom scuffle. I’m a bodyguard. It’s not usually so hazardous. Mostly you just stand around looking big, bluffing. Sometimes people call that bluff.”

“You might want to go to the hospital.”

“That’s what I hear.”

Hadrian shrugged and went about his business, treating me like a piece of furniture or a sleeping dog, something that should be left alone unless it bothers you first. That was fine by me. My body ached, my mind ached, but the pain had worn off just enough from the pills that there was now room for that sweet, sweet shame. Sham for having lost my Matzu, shame for having failed, shame for losing the tuna and the limo, but mostly the tuna, the dread of having to call Stella and file a missing body report. Stella would have to reach out to Alfonso and maybe if I was lucky Matzu was alive and would take me back. Otherwise it was back to the temp agency, waiting for someone to ignore my references and just hire me out of desperation. I supposed there was a case to be made that we had been ambushed and overpowered by a gang so large that no bodyguard in the world could have prevailed. I mean, no one knew how many drinks I’d had, or the depths of the dance trance that consumed me just moments previous to being held up at gunpoint.

Then I got to reflecting. Always something I try to avoid in the moment. It’s what got me into so much trouble in my former careers. But lying out with nothing but a puke bucket by my side doesn’t leave a lot else to do. For me reflecting came in the form of wondering whether Takuto’s death and Matzu’s disappearance were connected. And whether there was a fight for New York sushi territory happening behind the scenes. Whether this was the beginning or the end or somewhere in the middle. And whether somebody caught in the middle could be held responsible, could be given another chance.

Maybe I could call it quits right then and there, I thought. No, I certainly couldn’t. Even though I had only known Matzu for one night, his disappearance would always be an unanswered question, a terrifying void in my life. I could never move on unless I figured out what had happened to him.

Hadrian popped his head in from the other room. “I’m ordering lunch, you want anything?”

“Just get me whatever you’re having.”

“You’re buying.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Cheaper than a hospital bed, pal.”

Twenty minutes later we were eating shawarma from the Lebanese place across the street. Fantastic stuff, greasy and spicy, just what my bludgeoned and hungover body needed. At my age, you don’t really think you’ll ever experience a new style of meat-sweats in your lifetime, so when they come, you savor them. Hadrian had an accent I couldn’t place but didn’t want to ask about. Possibly Rhode Island. He wore very tight clothes that looked coordinated, like he studied fashion magazines or had a thing for mannequin displays. He was a confessor, I could tell right away. Like he hadn’t talked to anyone in a few days and seeing as I was just laying on the couch I should do just fine as a fresh set of ears. Fine by me —  it helped me feel useful. Useful, exactly! Hadrian said he knew exactly what I was talking about. Cleaning is the best way to feel useful. He said he always felt he had all this potential built up and if he didn’t use it somehow, even if it wasn’t ideal, you might never get around to using it and you’ll die wondering if you completely missed your calling. He didn’t want to clean houses and apartments for a living, he wanted to be a chef. Not a restaurant chef but a TV chef, like Emeril Lagasse, his hero. To him, Emeril was a hero, a legend. He found his calling, the most important thing in life, and on top of that, he found managed to figure out a way to broadcast it every day to the entire world. There was nothing better, he said, than showing the world over and over again how great your life is, how your biggest concern is maybe not adding enough garlic to your damn tomatoes. It’s almost a better feeling than your life actually being great.

Alas, he said, the television and culinary worlds required some schooling and he didn’t have the money to go back. He had a degree in media and broadcasting, but no clue about the kitchen world.  Cleaning was the easiest job he could get that paid the best and still left him feeling energized at the end of the day. All in all, that wasn’t a bad setup. He’d leave apartments tidy and smelling fancy, go out for an early happy hour when the bars were almost empty and he’d sit at the bar and listen to the regulars and the bartender talk, and watch intently s the bartender pretend to have a task in front of her at any given time, sometimes real tasks and other times just moving things from one place to another and back again trying to appear busy but always engaged with the regulars who never had anything new to say because they spent all their free time in the bar seeking fresh ears and if none were available then old ears would do just fine. Hadrian liked to watch for the bartender’s micro-reactions, little smirks, eye-rolls, anything subconscious that showed her true feelings. Bartenders are dishonest people, he said. It’s a job and part of the job of bartender is to listen to what your customers have to say, make them feel welcome, cheer them up and keep their minds from wandering, or help their minds safely wander out of their daily rut, whatever they’re in the mood for, and always keeping a keen sense of balance and vibe, similar to the balance and vibe you create when cleaning apartments, a balance that makes people feel like someone is taking care of things around them so they won’t have to worry. But underneath the bartender’s facade are the tiny little minuscule reactions they can’t hide, or are too tired to hide, and that’s what Hadrian looks for, those bartenders who keep that balance in the bar but on the inside they’re wavering. I was done with my pita by that point, was mopping up my cracked, misshapen lips while Hadrian had barely taken a bite, was just holding his shawarma while he talked, the bread filling with sauce and grease from the lamb and starting to drip and crack apart, which is a pet-peeve of mine, two people not eating at the same pace.

He could tell I was losing interest and/or consciousness on account of his story or possibly the aforementioned meat-sweats and of course the swelling so he changed the subject and started talking about Vicky and watched me perk right up. Must have been obvious I guess. Like the television host he dreamed of becoming, he felt my energy and launched into some gossip. About Gwen the little genius who is most certainly destined to be a singer or voice actor. About her life as a model for sculptors in Gowanus. About how she lost her husband the year before, he thinks from a motorcycle related crash but wasn’t sure. They were about the same age, had been together since forever. “She didn’t tell me at first,” he said, “I thought they just got divorced. There were remnants of him all over the apartment that she didn’t take down. I started asking whether she wanted me to take down the pictures and whatnot but she said no, that she wanted to keep them up for Gwen. She seemed fine, keeping everything together. She kept bartending, kept going to school, kept herself and Gwen in a routine that would get them through the tough times. Creatures of habit, right?  Why do people hate on routine so much, you know?”

Then he said, “So what do you do again? Wrestler?”

“Bodyguard.”

“Of course, right. Who do you guard?”

“I work for a chef. Maybe he can get you a TV show.”

“What’s his name?”

“Thing is…he might be dead. I’m not sure.”

“Well, where does he work? If there’s a vacancy maybe they need an apprentice.”

“It’s a sushi place on the east side. I’ll find the name for you.”

“I thought we weren’t supposed to eat sushi anymore.”

“Why?”

“It’s poisonous I think. The fish have turned poisonous from over-fishing. Like, in rebellion, maybe? Does nature rebel like that? I think plagues are sort of like that. Or maybe it was that the fish was always poisonous and we didn’t realize it. We just thought it was too fancy not to eat it, and we all ignored that it was poisoning us all along. I think that was it. Or something like that. I heard it somewhere.”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Oh, I think I remember. There was an article, I can’t remember where. It said rogue sushi chefs were poisoning their own fish to try to make it less popular. As like a backlash against popularizing sushi. A cultural thing. Stopping foreigners from eating their sushi.”

“Foreigners? Like, Americans?”

“Yeah.”

“In New York?”

“Yeah.”

I considered the number of times I felt sick after eating at FishySmell, and wondered if it had anything to do with the rumor. A wave of blood filled with nervous little blood cells rushed to my skull all screaming at once a word I couldn’t understand.

“How Brooklyn, right? Try to keep it out of the mainstream as long as possible. Ha, get it. Mainstream. Like, the opposite of underground. No wait…underwater! HA!”

Hadrian asked if I was okay, must have sensed something was wrong, but I couldn’t get the words out, my legs and hands were cramping, my meat-sweats were transitioning to anxiety sweats. The shawarma was turning on me. It felt like all my energy was being sucked out of my body.

“Maybe you should lie down.”

“I think I need to go actually.”

He laughed. “Go where? You can barely open your eyes.”

Tears filled my eyes. I felt my chin wiggle, trying to hold back the flood. “I lost him. Two in a week! I’m a bodyguard and I lost my body, twice. Do you have any idea what that means for a guy like me? For him? A young guy, an up-and-coming chef, probably dead. And on top of it I lost a very expensive tuna loin which was meant to be distributed to the chefs of New York. Now there’s going to be a tuna shortage and its all my fault!”

“Tuna loin, eh?”

I tried to talk through my sniffles. “It was entrusted to us by the head of nationwide sushi-syndicate who might also be criminals, I don’t know. It was worth a lot of money.”

“High quality tuna loin? Like, as in, something a chef would be very happy to receive?”

“Yea, sitting in a hot car all night.”

“Was it wrapped up?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Come on, let’s go get it.”

“Really?”

"I don’t have anything going on.”

“I don’t think you don’t want to get involved. This is a dangerous situation. Look what they did to my face!”

“How do I know you didn’t look a lot like that before you got beat up?”

I cried some more.

“Well regardless of how ugly you were, you can’t go outside with a face looking like a crushed up turtle. All lumpy and gooey and stuff.”

“Don’t say turtle, please.”

“Listen, I’m going to be honest with you because I don’t have a lot of patience and I just like to say things I believe are true even if they’re not: If your friend is dead, he’s dead, and there’s nothing you can do. So what’s the rush? I’d be more concerned about that rotting tuna in the back seat of your car. If we can get that to some chefs, maybe get on their good side, a little introduction, we could get your job back. And an apprenticeship for me…”

“You think he’s dead?” I asked.

The phone rang. It was Vicky. She said she was running late and had to go straight to work instead of stopping home first. “She says she’s sorry. But to just hang tight, she’ll be home before we know it.”

We decided we would go see if the tuna was still there, if the car was still there, swing by my apartment to get a few things, and come straight back. He made us coffee and we waited until Gwen came home. He helped her get her homework started and then told her to be a good girl while the two adults went for a little ride.  

Before we stepped out the door, I stopped and said, “We can’t leave her alone. Her mom won’t be back for hours.”

“It’s fine, she knows the neighbors.”

“Are you sure?”

“I do it all the time.”

“I’d really feel more comfortable if she came with us. I mean, what if something happens to her.”

“She’s in a kid proof apartment, in a building filled with adults. It’s more dangerous bringing her with us. I mean, need I remind you of the hideousness of your face and how that all happened?” “Listen, I’m not going to be fighting anyone or saving anyone or sticking up to anyone in the next few hours. I just need some first-aid, a fresh change of clothes, and some bearings. If anyone comes for me, I’ll surrender. They won’t hurt a hipster and a little girl sitting in whatever car you own. Can’t be anything special. They’re sushi people. They’re classier than that. We take a little drive into the city, check out some tuna, head to my apartment, pack a bag, and come right back here. Sound good?”

[saegusakin]

Roquill Misc. Thoughts

(there’s a little line in the middle of this if you don’t want to read the more smutty stuff so take notice of that)

everyone always seems to think that rocket is really inexperienced when it comes to romance/sex and i understand why you might think that

but consider: lylla

he’s not completely unused to the idea of romance, it’s just that in the sense of roquill he just thinks that quill is too good for him, he isn’t from halfworld, he doesn’t look like him, if he was supposed to find anyone it was probably her and somehow that got all messed up so good going

but honestly

consider: rocket is very envious of gamora, every time quill’s attention has been on her instead of him he’s acted out to get his attention back (and when he and quill finally become a couple that part is blatantly obvious and at least he slowly calms down with it because quill is essentially ‘jfc no i care about you, not her, she’s OUR friend, yeah, but YOU’RE my boyfriend’ - on that semi-related note, just try to tell me that rocket stealing the batteries in gotg2 isn’t entirely because quill didn’t care about his music player and focused on gamora too much, rocket clearly never needed the money, the motivation was getting quill’s attention somehow, even if it was negative, he just wants to be focused on) but quill is also pretty secretly jealous of lylla, in a way

lylla was called rocket’s soulmate, by all senses of the word they were supposed to end up together and if she’s still out there the fear still exists in his mind that rocket could still somehow end up with her and no, he does not like that, nuh-uh, get her away he hates anyone being called rocket’s ‘soulmate’ but him, and so much as he might try to hide it, if she were ever really around him he’d be far far far more standoffish towards her than he’d ever been towards anyone else

of course rocket would find this hilarious in a way because what??? HE’S jealous??? what? i’m so used to glaring at any girl that goes by that this is a flarking riot of course at some point he’d probably just tug quill down so they were eye-to-eye and smirk and comment i thought you of all people would know that i’m not even into women anymore, good god. and before you say it - ‘cause i know you’re gonna - i’m not really into any guys, neither. ‘cept you. you’re my baby boo, no one else is. 

ofc someone’s gotta poke them and go guys we still have a mission to drag them out of the likely make-out fest that follows, but you know

also, if you think gamora’s reaction to ayesha hitting on quill in gotg2 was bad, rocket in that position would’ve been so much worse less subtle glaring, more outright crossing his arms, tapping his foot, a-HEM, they’re all ugly anyways they’re creepy and yellow and if they want to ‘study natural reproduction’ they can SHOVE SOMETHING UP THEIR OWN--

quill’s just gotta hold rocket and go shhshh and eventually rocket will calm he gets a bit smug when it’s made clear that he’s the one quill loves but that’s okay, it usually just manifests as a little smug grin and nuzzling into him

SMUT PORTION

on another note with that ‘rocket is inexperienced’ idea, i’d think he knows what sex is, he’s not naive, it’s just that he’s probably ever only done it once with lylla and whoops, that’s it and that was probably heavily just well, that happened, it was....okay, i guess?

the part that he’s inexperienced on is that quill is a) a human, and b) male, and okay, he gets how it works with men-women and he knows it can be done same-sex wise but he’s not going to admit the fact that he has no idea the specifics, but no, he has no idea, and part of him is kinda afraid that that won’t ever happen anyway because hahaha just look at him, sure, they can do the cute kisses and hugs thing fine but actual sexual intimacy he’ll probably never want--

quill’s opinion on the subject is i have done so much weirder so me being sexually attracted to rocket is not surprising, he’s my boyfriend after all so?? yeah ofc 

rocket would legitimately be shocked by that and quill just holds him in his arms and just softly sighs with a grin you’re never gonna really realize it and i know you won’t, but i think you’re incredibly handsome, ‘kay? you’re beautiful and someday i’m gonna get you to see that, too

that pretty much entirely wins over rocket because the fact that he sounds so sincere and he’s so caring and perfect and flark it, i’m his

of course their first time would be a bit confusing on rocket’s part because oh i lift up my tai--OH...that’s....that’s what happens, okay, um,...okay, i trust you

note that quill has probably made sure that everyone else on the team is off doing something else for the night because he highly suspects that rocket is not the quiet type and lord is he right not that it probably isn’t pretty hot, though, and he’d never say it to rocket out loud but holy shit rocky is good at playing up the submissive angle

not that rocket doesn’t know that, of course, and he’d gladly manipulate that if he so pleased

the sex is good but the day after their first time?? rocket is having a lot of trouble with this ‘can’t sit down’ portion of things and he is swearing far more than normal because D’AAAAAAST IT HURTS and quill is barely keeping himself from cracking up, rocket just glares at him every now and then but he’s pretty sure it was worth it

by the way, yes, rocket does have heats quill will just immediately go WELL, ROCKET AND I ARE GOING ON VACATION FOR A LITTLE WHILE WE’LL SEE YOU SOMETIME SOON C’MON ROCKY LET’S GO the rest of the guardians have to handle things for a while, that’s fine, mostly, though at some point someone probably does call in asking for the ‘leader’ and gamore just has to go yeah, he’s on vacation the other person pauses and goes okay what about the second in command he’s on vacation too ...third in command? you’re speaking to her

so yeah, i don’t believe rocket is inexperienced with sex in general, just sex with guys he has no idea until quill shows him how it’s done (and ofc quill knows, peter quill is completely pansexual and i will not hear otherwise)

something else worth noting: headcanon that celestials are very very intent on reproduction whether it be with women or men so whoops, sorry rocket, your boyfriend is half-living god so he could easily knock you up on accident

OKAY THAT PART’S OVER BACK TO CUTE

THIS IS CUTE IF YOU’RE DOWN WITH ROQUILL MPREG OTHERWISE SKIP AND YEAH, I DID A FANFIC A LONG WHILE BACK BUT THESE THOUGHTS ARE MORE IRONED OUT

okay so about that rocket getting accidentally knocked up situation that’s a very viable possibility

rocket throwing up is probably nothing new because the raccoon drinks a lot and even he is just like okay this is worse than normal but nothing completely unexpected until he deliberately refrains from drinking one night and still ends up puking so??? maybe i’m just sick idfk

 it’s only when he starts realizing that he’s getting a bit more chubby is the sign that makes him go okay what no this shouldn’t be happening i’m not eating any more than normal what is going on quill, being quill, has a natural aversion to hospitals and doctors offices because they give him the bad worrying feelings that he tries really really hard to ignore because no, rocket needs this and they both crack up at the idea of oh, rocket’s pregnant, ha up until they realize that ‘quill is half-celestial’ bit of things and it all slowly starts to piece together that no, this isn’t a joke

rocket is horrified, by the way, and freaks out pretty bad because FOR ONE I’M A GUY, FOR TWO WHAT THE HELL IS IT GOING TO LOOK LIKE WITH A COMBINATION OF OUR GENES?? FOR THREE okay, imagine this all turns out okay, do you really think either of us are mature enough for this?? 

that last one quill just kinda quietly goes well i mean you were really good when groot was a baby so

and it’s obvious quill feels awful about this because this wouldn’t even be a thing if not for him

rocket just lightly sighs and just nuzzles into him and goes look, neither of us knew, i’m not mad at you, i’m just...scared. really, really, really, really scared.  but i guess this is happening, whether we like it or not, so....

he just tries to chuckle

because his next words are you realize that this gives me an excuse to be even more pissy than normal, right? ...ain’t that gonna be fun. good luck.

he’s not lying, either

normal rocket is bad, pregnant rocket is a terror that is not yet known to the hearts of mankind, those mood swings are HORRIFYING and the only ones able to calm him are quill, groot, and mantis if she uses her powers and she probably has to at least once

rocket is very upset that he can’t drink at the moment, by the way, even if everyone else sees that as a good thing, he probably tries to more than once and everyone has to make sure that the alcohol is kept away from him

plus, when he’s getting further into the pregnancy, the fact that he can’t go on missions outright pisses him off because WHO CARES IF I’M KIND OF FAT, FIGHT ME, I STILL HAVE THE FASTEST TRIGGER-FINGER IN TWENTY-SEVEN GALAXIES, YOU ALL NEED ME, and he eventually relents because quill is the one person who can convince him into anything through sweet words and rocket kinda hates it but he’s in too deep at this point so quill is able to get him to stay on the ship even if rocket ends up being a bit huffy at it all

the delivery has to be c-section obviously because of the whole ‘being male’ thing, and this entire time rocket has expected it to be some horrifying thing that’d live for like three minutes or so and then die

but no, perfectly fine little girl with big brown eyes and raccoon ears and tail and he just is lying there completely dumbfounded meanwhile everyone else just. they love her. rocket loves her too but he’s just so surprised he didn’t even think of a name or anything he was just going to call it ‘the thing that came from me’ because he heavily expected some kind of furred misshapen creepy thing but no, she’s adorable

the first name that comes ti his mind is lucille, or lucy (because of course, rocket is originally a gigantic beatles reference) so she ends up with full name lucille meredith quill

she’s probably a cheerful little thing, honestly, but she will grab at and try to bite anything and everything, the only ones able to stop her are her dads or groot, she loves groot

she ends up having brown hair, raccoon ears on top of her head, big brown eyes, raccoon tail, and she acts a lot like rocket she is tomboyish, smart, and she has her little upset spells where she’ll only speak to either of her two dads or groot but she’s also a bit more lighthearted and she can easily have quill’s natural talent at being sociable if she so pleases, it’s just that predictably she thinks most people are idiots which rocket agrees with without hesitation he will not disagree bc when his baby girl is right she’s right people are dumb

she’s still a bit more lighthearted and friendly, but she clearly has a lot of rocket’s personality in her while she looks a lot like quill

and much like rocket, she will bite at anyone who tries to touch her without her explicit permission and her ears will twitch when she’s excited, she’s a cute little thing and her dads love her very much

OKAY THAT’S IT FOR NOW I THINK I’LL PROBABLY HAVE MORE LATER, BUT YEAH

[violenceeisgolden]

Tmi/tw/an update

Had such strong cravings for alcohol/such strong urges to say "fuck my health, I'm already fucked, lets fucking lose all this weight you gained in recovery, buy some adderall and vodka and allllll the opiates in the world and at least enjoy however many shitty yrs you have left" except like ???? Okay, so my private insta kept !! Getting !! Fucking deleted !! Idk why, like yeahh i bitch about my drug problems and my mental illness but i have never shared a triggering picture? Meanwhile all these accts with people fkn shooting up are still up? Huh what a concept So anyway, i was thinking of making a side blog. Or i could just vent on here i guess but posting on my side blogs sounds safer. Damn. Been out of the Tumblr world for a while now. Anyway, since it's quite clear that I don't care about a fkn thing anymore... lemme give you all a lil update on the joke that is my life. This one's gonna be EPIC. So. Uh. First things first... I made it five days without any form of any opiate in my system. I did not eat anything in those 5 days. (Wanna lose weight?! Just get addicted to painkillers and develop crohns, then quit your painkillers cold turkey!!! You'll drop 10 lbs in a week!) I did not keep many fluids down, aside from the days when i was in the hospital. I was shitting and puking blood by the fourth day, because my body had nothing left in it to get out. I still smell like the stench of withdrawal - aka, overpowering body odor, desperation, sadness, guilt... etc. On the fourth day, my "stool" was nothing but black and blood.. I knew my potassium was low, not including sodium, etc. Was starting to get chest pains. Blah blah blah. IST was acting up. Whatever. I knew I had no choice but to go to my shitty hometown clinic (and... yeah i hate NOTHING more than that fucking place). Luckily, I got this cool 1st shift dr who appreciated my extensive knowledge of my esophageal and colonic conditions. She also gave me morphine. But I mean, 4mg through an IV is like... nothing. But.. that fucking rush. Whenever I get IV narcotics in hospitals, it's a nice reminder for me to forever stay tf away from needles. Anywhoooo Moving along. So i got some fluids/potassium, two of my veins are dead now (not even bc of drug use, as i stated above.. legitimately because I've had one too many IVs placed or wtf ever) so they had to stick me a million and one times and i was like :))))) yeahhhh keep causing more pain guys because ya know. I can just fucking take it obviously!!! And then.. this bitch drops the bomb that i realllyyyyy have been hoping was NOT true for like... ya know... a fucking year... that... okay fuck it, you guys all know i am a shit person anyway, lets add onto it.. anyway yeah. I have herpes. And my HPV is progressing. Still dunno about those cancerous cells bc no one tells ME ANYTHING but she said i have a severe pelvic infection that is travelling towards my liver. So they're like "lets do a REALLY intense course of antibiotics" and im like ??? Fucking a man im getting mad just writing this all out. Anyway i was like uhm. How tf am i supposed to keep down antibiotics when i CAN'T EVEN KEEP DOWN WATER THAT IS WHY I'M FUCKING HERE JFCCCC. And they were like "yeah we're aware but you legit do not have a choice" bc yeah, don't want my liver to go downhill (I've been such a lil fuck to my drs lately.... could not care less tho bc they deserve my bluntness) so i called my new case worker (she is super chill, super gay, lets me swear and call my drs fuckers as much as i want, which is dope) and basically explained, she said she's gonna try and get me back on subs legally so i can at least nourish myself and keep my health up (ill still be in pain but I'm learning that id rather have my body not slowly dying and be in pain... what a cool sacrifice. I also was like... "Hey yeah no hospital is gonna admit me rn... and my health is worse now than it was in '14 when i weighed 60 lbs less so like... I'm going to use street subs. Or opiates in general. For a few days. So i can get my electrolytes back somehow... also did i mention i have herpes? *bawling ensues* anywhooo... Just thought I'd let you know." And she was like "Fair enough. You need to eat." And i was like okay cool tell my dr and his bitchy nurse that usually replies to my messages bc i do not need anymore fucking stigma rn .. okay? Tyvm" so that was.. that i guess. So yeah. I used. On day 5. And... i didn't even truly fucking want to. That's the worst fucking part of this whole fucked up bullshit... I WANT TO PROVE EVERYONE WRONG AND SHOW THEM THAT I CAN DO THIS. And i could have. If it wasn't for my poor health... i fucking could have. And I'm gonna tell that to my pdoc when I see him. But you know what? I fucking ate. I kept down a loooottttt of liquids. Opiate wds technically cannot kill you. And the thing is... I've been through the "near fatal" ones (booze and benzos)... but I always caught my alcohol dts super fast, got treated and then away i went. But no. Opiate withdrawals will not be dangerous~~~..... to a person who is in decent health. I say decent bc lbs if you're using them either legally or illegally, something is already prob wrong lol. I remember a story that my ex sponsor who is now a good but distant friend (who relapsed, and when she relapsed, we became close lol shes sober now tho dw) told me once about opiate dts... she said one of her friends was so dehydrated, malnourished, etc... that he almost did die. And it took him almost dying for anyone to take him seriously. And, as I was laying in that miserable hospital bed... I remembered that. Opiate wds cannot kill you, but you're gonna wanna a) kill yourself, because it's honestly fucking easier that way (or so your mind will tell you) and b) if you're in poor health... try and find a detox center/hospital that will take you. ASAP. On tuesday... fuck i lost my train of thought... (in other news, i now have a promethazine script and... boy oh boy lol probably the best non naroticc/not scjeduled drug I've ever gotten my grubby lil hands on)... yeah idk that's all I publicly got rn. If you actually read all this... 👀 @ you, Ashley, bc ik you're the only one who reads my shit on here anymore (love you for that, btw 💜)... but yeah if you read this all, you guys are the real MVPs... I'm gonna start using one of my private blogs on here. Mainly because..welll...its fucking private and also really enjoy the fact that i saved the URL "clonqz3pain" so... yeah that's all I got. Hope you all are doing better than me.