#whats that scrawny bitch gonna do huh?

[snekdood]

broly could totally kick slendermans ass

[pinkiepiebones]

This is another WIP chunk but... I think I'm actually going to write a longfic. I haven't planned/ written a multi-chapter fic since Dichotomy. Movie spoilers obv

As little more than a skeleton and ligaments and pieces of muscle, one intact eye and a dead, black heart, Dracula still possessed more power than at least three fully flesh and blood humans. His wolf form was no different- bones and muscles in the barest hint of structure, one wide, red eye and one black heart- but still stronger and meaner than at least four average wolves. He enlisted a few terrified wolves from the woods and they set out for the graveyard. 

Dracula had no sense of smell and barely any vision, but he somehow led the other wolves to the grave he sought.

His voice loomed large in their canine brains.

DIG.

The wolves scraped and clawed for hours. Dracula paced, keeping his one wild eye on them. They panted and whined but did not dare run. They dug until the coffin was fully visible. They snarled and bit and smashed until the lid was torn open, revealing the battered and rotting corpse of Tedward Lobo.

Dracula let them climb out of the pit and stop to rest. He then feasted on their blood. Wolf blood was a piss-poor substitute for human blood, but he needed what little sustenance they could provide in order to reconstitute his human form.

Dracula stood on slightly shaking legs, dressed in silky black furs, outstretched his arms, and sliced his palms open.

Black blood dripped down in the full moon light.

He had nearly exsanguinated his entire meager stock of blood when Teddy came back.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," he screamed as soon as his lungs were working again.  He had been somewhat unceremoniously tossed into his coffin; no one saw any reason to do an autopsy on a man who had somehow shattered every bone and had every organ punctured with bone shards. 

"Fuck!" Teddy looked around. He was unable to do much else. Dracula's blood was still seeping into his crushed form.

"Fucking... what the shit?" Teddy looked up to see Dracula, lurched over the pit, his one intact eye aimed down. "Master?? What the f- did I die? Was I dead? I'm in a grave aren't I? Whoa, You look like shit! What's going on?"

Dracula's voice was ragged on the edges. He spoke simply, clipped, like rusty hedge clippers snapping open and shut.

"Vengeance."

Teddy nodded and propped himself up on newly reformed elbows. "Oh hell yeah, I love vengeance! Vengeance, revenge, all that! Who we getting our veng- you know what, tell me in a bit, I'm starving."

As soon as his fingers reformed, and his arms and the nerve paths between his resuscitated brain were active, he thrust hands into the dirt around him and pulled out earthworms. Teddy ate noisily and his eyes flared with the dark power still somehow residing in him. He pulled himself out of the open grave, bitching about the quality of the coffin and the fact that he had been buried in the clothes he had died in. He stretched his tattooed hands out gripped at dead grass as he heaved himself up, finally free of his final resting place.

Teddy lept to his feet and let out a triumphant, howling laugh. "Eat shit, Death! Teddy Lobo's back and you can't do shiiii-" He trailed off when he finally looked at his Master.

"I gotta get you somewhere safe and maybe kill some people for you, huh?"

Though he was still without lips, Dracula grinned. Teddy was as stupid as a sack of doorknobs, but such a sack could still be utilised as a fairly decent weapon. Teddy carefully scooped Dracula's frail body up in his dirty, scrawny arms.

"Don't worry, Master. We're gonna fucking own Renfield's ass."

He hesitated.

"That's who were's gonna vengeance on, right?"

"Yes" Dracula hissed.

Teddy nodded and started walking towards the woods. "Sweet."

[yanderemommabean]

I was going through your archive when I found a post that I love so dang much. It's the one where you take a demons power to go to different anime's. But surprise! Everyone is yandere for you now. But I gotta idea for it. Let's say you FINALLY get back to your universe, you're thinking that no more yandere's are gonna go after you. Then you see L in a cafe, Sebastian along with Ciel coming out of a car, and all the yandere's you THOUGHT you escaped from have just entered the Real universe.

You think you’re safe, you think that finally you can rest and not have to worry about being taken, being stalked and watched every living second of the day. The world seems to have slowed down, you no longer feel the need to run and escape from those you once looked up too and favored.

But then you feel the hairs stand on the back of your neck. That familiar trepidation turning into dread, sinking your heart and stomach. Call it instinct, call it magic, but you knew in your gut you weren’t actually safe.

A familiar blond bombshell with red wings is being admired down the street, his golden eyes piercing yours while he wears his signature playboy grin. Like a true hawk cornering it’s prey.

Just a few feet beside him, a man with a green and black checkered jacket is seen asking people all sorts of odd questions, you can only guess that he’s asking about you.

No. No this isn’t fair! This isn’t supposed to be happening! You want to scream, to dash the other direction, but you also want to fight them out of the absolute frustration of being chased constantly without a second to breathe. That fucking asshole demon! An absolute bitch!

You begin to search for a route that would help you hide. Alleyways, crowds of people, stores with accessible storage rooms, anything would be a godsend to hide from the ever growing list of problems and psychos following you.

While dodging as many pedestrians as possible was a skill you’ve reluctantly been honing in on lately, it was going to happen that you’d lose focus through your panic. You collide into a muscular, well built man with his hair in a tight bun. Beside him is a smaller, but still taller light haired man with an apologetic smile.

Asahi and Sugawara. Of course, even the sweethearts are after you.

“Oh-oh my goodness Y/N! I’m so sorry! I know I was looking for you but I didn’t mean-“

“Easy Asahi-“ Suga soothed, helping you up off of the ground while you wince and scrunch your nose. While colliding with the absolute unit of a man, you fell back and felt a crack as you used your hands to break your fall, and it looks like your body took that term literally.

“Oh god, that doesn’t look to good” Asahi murmurs, gently rubbing his thumb over your ever swelling wrist. His lips softly kiss the skin while Suga places his hand on your back, guiding you to walk with them as he beams his beautiful smile down at you.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to worry about anything, we’re gonna take care of you. I guess the whole team kinda scared you off huh? They tend to do that when overexcited” he smiles, as if any of this was remotely normal.

You were trapped. Not only where they more capable of chasing you down, their height and strength combined meant you couldn’t possibly get away, unless some miracle occurred. And lately? That’s been a commodity you’ve been starved of.

Asahi continues to ask if you’re ok, stuttering and timidly looking away on occasion when all you manage is a grunt of irritation and pain. You can’t even focus on where these two are taking you, your wrist throbbing and burning as the impact of the damage done starts to sink in.

As you are turned down a sketchy alley, Asahi abruptly stops in his tracks, pushing you behind him and giving Suga a stern and suspicious expression. Suga just nods, and pulls you close to him as he whispers in your ear “Stay beside me, ok? Not to make you worry or anything but...we don’t think we’re alone here”.

Fucking duh. Of course you aren’t. There’s as many psycho, obsessed anime characters as there is germs at this point. For all you knew cells from cells at work were coming to take you. And it would be kind of funny if that wasn’t a real possibility!

You just bite back a sob of frustration, tears freely running down your face as you collapse to the ground and bury your face in the hand that wasn’t currently having a malfunction. Suga assumes it’s the pain, kneeling down to try and soothe you the best he could. Seconds later, a blade swings by and misses you both by just millimeters.

Looking up from utter fear, you see none other than Zack Foster standing with an unhinged expression. “Alright you had your fun you little runaway, but I’m kinda getting tired of chasing you all over creation. A mans got needs you know? Cant keep his needs away from him forever!”

Asahi tightens his fists and puffs out his chest, stalking closer to the scrawny man as he sets his scythe against his shoulder. “You aren’t even close to worthy of having Y/Ns love! You just nearly killed her!” He shouts, giving Suga a nod to lift you up and make a run for it.

The two continue to throw jabs and tauntings as Suga gently lifts you, nuzzling into your shoulder as he rubs your back to soothe you. “You’re ok, you’re gonna be ok” he repeats, as if talking to a scared child and not an adult wanting to sell their soul again to get out of this nightmare.

Once again, because sure why not, Suga stops in his tracks and clenches you tighter to his chest.

You look over your shoulder to see just what new clusterfuck the universe has given you, meeting the demonic eyes of Rui, who’s webbing was ready to slice the man apart if he so much as breathed wrong.

“Enough games. Give me what is mine and I’ll make your death much less painful. Y/N was taken from me and I plan on getting rid of any and everyone involved”. His words were so calm, so matter of fact, as if he expected Suga to just comply and accept his fate.

You shut your eyes, hearing the voices of many other characters approaching like piranhas to an injured animal. Except instead of working together, they planned to tear anyone apart just to have you, and no matter the outcome you didn’t want to see just who the victor would be.

(-Mommabean, please leave comments or tell me what you think! Helps motivate me and to see where I need to work on more!)

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Missed You

Summary: It’d been a long year with Chris gone, but he promised to become a better man for your family.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of jail time, smut, swearing, Chris calling the reader his bitch, daddy kink, breeding kink

(A/N: I saw this gif and got inspired. Anyway Chris and reader are mid 20’s in it. Feedback is like drugs for me so please.)

Tags: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya , @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove

Chris was bulkier than you remembered. The scrawny boy you’d crushed on in high school had been replaced by the man walking towards you. Through the many phone calls, letters he’d written to you, and the occasional visits it didn’t take long for you to realize there wasn’t much for him to do except read, eat, sleep, and workout. It paid off because damn he looked good.

You’d been waiting for this moment since he’d waved goodbye. Seeing him walk away from you was so hard. This hadn’t even been the first time he’d got in trouble with the law, it’s just that this time felt so different now that you had a one-year-old who was now about to turn three to take care of and had to hold everything down. Somehow you managed, not without help, but you made it through.

Now he was finally there. Trying to coerce you into letting him hit it even though he knew you had somewhere to be. His ma wanted to have a nice family dinner. Little Chris was already there, probably being fussed over by his grandma. All you were supposed to do was stop at home so he could shower and change and be on your way. He just couldn’t resist you in that dress.

He loved seeing you in sundresses and you knew that which is why you wore it. All he could think about once he saw you was seeing it bunched up around your waist since the moment he saw you. “Baby, we can’t,” you tried to reason with him, giggling as he kissed your neck. 

“C’mon. It’s been a year. I missed my girl,” he whispered into your ear before easily picking you up, to place you on the kitchen table. He’d just gotten out of the shower and had peeked into the kitchen to see you packing up some stuff you wanted to take to his mom’s. He hadn’t even gotten dressed because he knew what he was trying to do. Only his chain and the tattoos that were scattered along his body.

You looked up at him with a pout as he held you tightly against him. “Baby,” you groaned, trying to be serious. It was true, though. It had been a very long year. Your vibrator could only get you through so much. You didn’t want your first time together since he’d been home to be like this. Not a rush. You wanted to take your time.

The way he was kissing your neck let you know you were about to lose this battle. You shivered because fuck his lips did feel good. You touched his stomach, running your finger up and down the six pack that hadn’t been there last time.

What a fucking jerk. He knew what seeing him in the chain did to you for some reason. Especially with that fresh haircut. Fuck your man looked so yummy. 

He gripped your ass roughly, letting you know who the fuck was in charge right now. “Oh, no, Baby. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. You know better.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you sighed before tucking your bottom lip in between your teeth trying to look up at him all innocent.

“That’s my girl,” he groaned softly. He grabbed your hand placing it on his already hardening dick. He was so long and thick your hand could barely wrap around it. It was so damn fat. “I know you missed me, Baby.”

“I did.” You looked up at him as you now stroked his heavy cock. He put his thumb on your lips before greedily kissing you. 

It didn’t take long for him to pick you up again his muscles flexing against you as he made you wrap your legs around his waist. The whole time he’d carried you to the bedroom his dick was rubbing into your covered pussy.

He finally sat down on the bed with you in his lap. He laid back taking you with him your lips still on his. You pulled away so you could start taking your dress off, but he grabbed your hand to stop you. “Leave it on,” he said before smacking your ass.

You nodded, your eyes falling to his chest to that chain as you finally made out the script of the tattoo you’d never seen before. “Is - is that my name?” You asked tracing your finger over it.

He nodded leaning back with a smirk on his lips. “Mhm,” he said.

“Your mom is gonna kill you.” You grinned.

He shrugged. “You’re it for me, Baby. I want to become a better man for you.”

“Oh, Chris.” You teared up. He leaned up so he could reconnect your lips. You leaned down to him and he pushed your panties to the side so you could finally sink down onto his cock.

You hissed as your pussy was finally full of him after too long. You sat up straight so you could ride him properly. He grabbed onto your hips so he could fuck you with force. “So damn tight,” he groaned. “Fucking missed this pussy.” He looked so beautiful. His chain resting on his chest.“You missed me, huh, Baby? Missed my dick.”

His grip on your hips was tight as he made you bounce up and down his thick length. “Yes, Daddy.”

“No one else got to touch this pussy, right?” He groaned knowing the answer because you were his good girl. “It’s all mine?”

Your pussy felt so creamy on his cock. “Never. This is your pussy, Daddy.” You changed pace grinding your hips back and forth. He helped you move because even though you were on top, he was still in control.

“That’s right, Bitch. This is Daddy’s cunt.” You know you shouldn’t like your boyfriend calling you his bitch, but there was something about him degrading you that was so addicting.

Your dress had bunched up around your waist as you let him fuck into you. He almost felt like he was to much to take, but you were determined. You’d been daydreaming about this moment this whole year. Needing to feel him however he wanted to give it to you.

He looked between the two of you, to see your cream running down his length and making a mess on his pelvis. He was glad that you didn’t hate him. When it all first happened it’d been hard. The two of you getting close to splitting up, but somehow you managed to stick it out.

He’d felt like a piece of shit for putting you in that position. Not like it had been the first time, but after you got pregnant with Little Chris he’d done such a good job at staying out of trouble until he got cocky. Fucked around too much. It was okay. He was out now. You were back in his arms and on his dick. That was all that mattered.

Now he had your name tattooed to his chest because you’d be his girl forever. He wanted to grow old with you. Wanted to put more of his babies in you. He’d get his shit together and give you that ring he’d had hidden in his Ma’s house since last year. Then give you that big wedding he knew you wanted. That you deserved.

Just the way you were moaning while riding him was letting him know you deserved the world. He needed to treat you right. First, though, he needed to dick you down properly.

He got up still inside of you making you squeal. “Chris!” You squealed.

He chuckled before getting back onto the bed. He needed to feel your perfect cunt creaming for him over and over again while you withered underneath him. “Daddy!” You cried as he slammed into you again.

“That’s it, Bitch. Take this dick. Bet you didn’t even think about any other man, huh.”

You gasped as he rammed into you. You did love how he made you take him. How he stuffed you with his thick cock without any mercy. “Never! This is yours. I’m yours. This pussy is yours!”

“I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Did you stop taking your birth control like I told you?” His voice broke and you could tell he was so close.

His chain was dangling in your face. You don’t know what came once you as you put your mouth on it. You nodded looking into his bright blue eyes. You clawed at his muscular shoulders, needing something to hold onto as your orgasm finally crashed onto you.

It didn’t even stop. The way he was fucking you through it made you swear that you could feel him in your stomach. All you could do was take it like he’d told you to. It was all you wanted.

“Daddy’s gonna put another baby in this pussy.” His hips stuttered, losing the rhythm he’d built up since now that you’d cum all he wanted was to flood your pussy with his seed. “You wanna give daddy another baby? Want me to fuck my baby into you?””

You nodded all blissed out, but still taking it because you wanted to be a good little wifey. “Get me pregnant,” you cried, falling back against the pillow with the taste of metal on your tongue.

It was like music to his ears and the final push he needed to finally reach his breaking point. He went in so deep as he finally unloaded into you. Painting your walls with his thick cum.

His Ma was gonna kill him and rightfully blame him for the two of you being late, but he couldn’t resist finally being with you after this long. He promised he’d get his shit together this time. Now that he’d hopefully have two babies to take care of. He didn’t want you to have to worry about anything ever again. He’d make sure you’d never have to lift a finger.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Hello, I was wondering if I could have a request for the Campbell and Joe ship?.

Like Campbell being sick and Joe taking care of him. Or maybe Campbell is seen with Joe by his friends and he is overprotective.

You sure can!

Hmm, I'm curious to go with the friend one, since I love me some angst. These are his friends from before St. Jude's, because I'm sure Eddie and crew would totally be welcoming of Joe, but I dunno on Campbell's friends from his life before. So, I made up some people, enjoy.

Warning: insults

On with the fic!

--

"I think me gettin' day passes is really helping with my moods, ya know?" Campbell grinned like there was no tomorrow as he walked alongside Joe, hands shoved in his pockets, a bit of pep in his step.

"Oh? Is it the day passes, or is it that you get to spend time with me?" Joe teased, giving him a bit of a shove.

Campbell stumbled, but laughed, then grabbed a hold of Joe and started to give him a noogie, rubbing up his curly locks. The older boy shouted in alarm, but it was quickly followed by laughter.

"Is that who I think it is?"

Someone said behind Campbell and he paused, removing his hand from Joe's hair. Huh?

"You know what, I think it is, only Camp wore that jumper."

Wait a second, Campbell knew those voices, even if it's been about two or so years. He released Joe, who shook his head, trying to get his hair back into some sort of order, and Campbell turned, seeing a group of young men around his age.

It might have been a few years, but he recognized them all easily. "Mates!" He said with such joy, throwing his arms up in the air. "Oi, it's been forever!" He ran towards them, coming to a stop.

Thomas, Mark, and Arnie, he hadn't seen them since the day he was forced to leave to St. Jude's, without much warning. He hadn't even been able to give them a proper goodbye! If he had been given that chance, he would have stolen one of their cars and gotten the hell outta Glasgow.

Then again, he never would have made new friends, never would have gotten into DJing, and never would have met Joe, so he wasn't gonna complain too much.

"Yeah, too long!" Thomas laughed, slapping Campbell on the back.

"How's that private institute treatin' ya?" Mark asked, crossing his arms. "Too good, since ya never bothered to call or write us!"

Campbell almost asked what he meant by institute, but then he remembered his father had told him when he was first brought to the hospital that no one knew he was there. People were told he was going to a private school of sorts, and that was that.

He grinned, scratching the back of his head. "Oh yeah, it's been... ya know how those sorta places are, keepin' me busy, always got an eye on me, can't cause too much trouble."

"Impossible." Arnie snorted. "You do nothing but cause trouble, for everyone and everything."

"Ehhh... what can I say?" Campbell shrugged. "I'm unpredictable." He laughed and then glanced over his shoulder, seeing Joe still where he left him.

His boyfriend was frowning, looking confused and a bit unsure. Oh, oh shit. "Hey, I want you lads to meet someone!" He told his mates before motioning at Joe to come closer.

"Boys, this is Joe! Joe, these are my friends from school! We've got Thomas, Mark, and this son of a bitch right here is Arnie!" Campbell grinned, patting Arnie on the arm. God damn, did he become a meat wall of a man. Then again, he had always been the more athletic of the bunch.

Actually, now that he looked at them, his friends were clearly doing very well for themselves, in a sense, all grown up and everything. And then there's Campbell, still the scrawny beanpole he was when he was seventeen, all freckles and wavy locks.

Not that it bothered him, personally he thought he was pretty attractive looking, and Joe seemed to find him quite handsome.

"Is he a friend of yours from the institute?" Thomas asked, shaking Joe's hand.

"Uh, no, actually." Joe blinked. "Campbell and I met through a pen pal program set up by the hospital."

"Hospital?"

"Ehhh... don't worry about!" Campbell said, waving a hand about. "Come on, ya guys wanna get somethin' to eat or drink? We can play catch up!"

The group made their way to a nearby chippy, getting themselves something to eat. Joe had bought for himself and Campbell to share, which Campbell thought was sweet, but he felt eyes staring at him as he took a chip from Joe.

"What?" He asked. "Joe promised he'd treat me today."

"Because you blew all your money on new albums." Joe pointed out.

"We needed to mix things up! Some of the records weren't stored properly, and Eddie was complainin' about it. You cannae please that crowd with records that don't work, ya know?"

"Records?" Mark questioned. "You got a job, Camp?"

Campbell nodded, looking rather proud. "Of course! I'm a DJ!"

"Didn’t you wanna be, like, a pop star or somethin' before you transferred?"

Campbell shrugged. "Weeeellll... kinda, yeah? Pop or rock, turns out I ain't great with singin', only know a song or two on the guitar."

"That's not true." Joe frowned. "You're brilliant at singing, I loved that rendition of Sunshine on Leith you did for me the last time I visited you."

A wild grin came to Campbell as he felt his cheeks heat up. Joe smiled back at this and there was a weird laugh from Arnie. Campbell turned, looking at his friend in confusion. "What?"

"Ain't that a love song?" Arnie asked, giving Campbell a weird sort of smirk.

"Yeah? What of it? It's a great song, don't be dissin' The Proclaimers, Arn."

"You singin' a love song... to a guy?"

Campbell turned back to Joe, his smile once more replaced with a frown. He then turned back to Arnie. "So?"

"That 'institute' you apparently went to, was it an all boys place? Ya like guys now, Bain? Thought you were all about wantin' to get laid with a beautiful girl?"

Swallowing, Campbell sat up straight, glaring at Arnie. "You knew before I left that it wasn't just girls that'd catch my eyes. Don't be makin' a big deal of this."

"Are you dating him?" Thomas looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah." Campbell said with a sniff. "Joe and I've been goin' out for months now." He took his boyfriend's hand, ignoring the salt and vinegar that lingered on his fingers.

Arnie frowned, crossing his arms. "This why your folks sent you away to a loony bin, Campbell? Cause you like men?"

Thomas and Mark looked surprised and Campbell felt his heart get lodged in his throat. "W-who told you?"

"Doesn't take a genius to figure it out." Arnie rolled his eyes. "You've always been weird, Campbell. Always with your shoutin' and wavin' about, then going all quiet and dead to the world. So, when your parents said you went to a private place, it was clear they sent you to the mad house."

"St. Jude's isn't a mad house, it's a hospital." Joe spoke.

"Stay outta this." Arnie said, giving Joe a look and Campbell got to his feet.

"You brought him into this, Arn." Campbell glowered, jabbing a finger into the other man's chest. God, he forgot how much of a prick this guy could be, always high and mighty, probably only kept Campbell around as entertainment or something. "And don't you dare try to insult him."

"I don't think I have to, have you seen him?" Arnie smirked, knowing he was pushing Campbell's buttons. He used to do this when they were younger, he liked making Campbell react to things.

Campbell inhaled sharply, then breathed through his teeth, no, he wasn't going to give in to this. "Ya know, when I first got sent to St. Jude's, I was scared that I'd never see you lot again, but in the time I've been there, I've made friends with people who actually respect me. Yeah, they're loony like me, but at least they're good people. And Joe's the best thing to happen to me in a long time, so you can go right ahead and fuck off, Arnie."

He took Joe's hand, helping him to his feet. "Thomas, Mark, it was lovely to see ya again, hope I can hang out with you guys when I get the chance. Come up and see me sometime at the hospital, I can show you my work station, you'll love it. Arnie, you can go right ahead and bite me."

He turned away, walking off with Joe. When he was out of earshot, he let out a breath and shook his head. "Oof, I was about ready to punch 'im! Arnie's always been a real prick, always gotta find some way to make me feel like shit! And I wasn't gonna let him do that to you, Joe."

Joe looked at him, giving him a small smile. "You didn't have to do that, but thank you."

"And thank you for trying to stand up for me too, but he would've brought you down. He's always done that."

"Why are you friends with him?"

"Cause he's friends with Thomas and Mark. Those guys are at least nice to be around, if not a bit of a pain, but... uhg." He then noticed he had the package of chips in his free hand, when had he grabbed those? "Ya wanna go to the park and finish our snack? I got a great story for ya involvin' Fergus that you just gotta hear!"

Joe nodded, smiling a bit more. "Sure, I'd love to hear what your friend did this time."

--

There is a very, very lovely version of Sunshine on Leith that David covered, if you want to listen to it. Of course he sang a song from The Proclaimers, didn't expect anything less.

[tsuki-sennin]

31! Prepare yourselves for agony, Donbura Nation! We will not survive! The Dog Man and the Bird Man finally meet. The stage is set. No items, 1-on-1, Final Destination.

Spoilers, I guess...

-Ohhhhh, that's gonna change, Tsubasa.

-Oooooh, noodle...

-"Y'know Jirou... you're not half bad, son :)"

-:)

-Ah yes. We're not all together, huh?

-What the dog doin'?

-Jirou jlkjhkbbjh

-Dog smell.

-"HOLY FUCK I FED A CRIMINAL AAAAAAAAAAAAAH"

-The dancing in the OP will finally be canon soon!

-Oh, a dieter?

-Very angelic. This guy must be the Tensou-Ki.

-Tsubasa's at a crossroads.

-Straight up warped.

-DOG

-I wonder if Inoue is self-conscious about the "Poor Communication Kills" trope we associate with him? I mean, it's been played it almost exclusively for comedy each time we saw it pop up, so...

-DOGS

-TARO

-DOGTARO

-Guitar man!

-Inui Ryuji...

-Ah... Inui... that's a name I've not heard in a long time...

-I liked it, mister!

-Shoko?

-Oh

-OH NOOOOOO

-Did we do it?

-What're we talking about?

-Dog?

-Dog Bonk.

-TSUBASA'S GONE

-"We're bros!"

-Oni?

-jlhklh

-Inui Ryuji. Hello.

-Music man!

-Inu Brother!

-"YOU'RE A SCRAWNY LITTLE SON OF A BITCH, AREN'TCHA DOG BOY!?"

-HOLY SHIT MONEY

-"Yeah, that's it, a total misunderstanding."

-"WHAT THE FUDGE, DOG???"

-Noooooo, you were doing so well, man!

-Oh...

-Oh damn

-Did he exorcise his own desires!?

-Wow.

-Inui... :(

-Hero in black.

-Dinner!

-jlhklhgh Ryujiiii

-Easy Haruka, down girl.

-The two worst kind of people. Natto and other men.

-Oh goddammit, Tendo Syndrome is spreading.

-First with Yui Nagomi, now my beloved scrinkly dinkly rangers.

-My man got a sick cut, fell in love at first sight, and then exploded.

-Natsumiho!

-Er... perhaps "Crane Lady" would be a bit more appropriate a nickname.

-INOUE WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BRAIN

-Ohhhh

-All three men converge.

-Oh shit, gotta run

-This is

-Not exactly what I expected for this episode, but

-Ohhhhhhhh, brutal.

-Okay, calm down Tsuyoshi, stains on a blanket like that aren't easy to clean.

-Hey, Crane Lady, what's your game here?

-Inui...

-Looks like Heaven didn't forsake you after all.

-"Back in the game, dog guy."

-Let's go, Tsubasa!

-Inui ain't the Inu.

-INSERT LET'S GOOOO

-"Maaaaaan, I thought I was gonna steal the show! Oh well..."

-It's okay Jirou, you're my friend <3

-Starting small, huh?

-Absolutely bodied.

-I suppose that was enough for that

-Keep going, Mister :)

-Shoko...

-She looks nothing like Crane Lady!

-:)

-Hope those two

-Tsubasa... :(

-Our good boy...

Tsuyoshi: "You're a super fugitive now! That's so cool! :D" Haruka: We'll be cheering you on when we see you steal a car during a chase :) Tsubasa: ...what a doggone pain.

-SONO SQUAD RISE UP

-SONOI BACK

-Looking... awfully Momotaro-y.

-I swear, this show is gonna take several years off my life.

[vanillacaramelhoney]

Different (4)

Pairing(s): Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: YN leaned over to whisper to Five. "I like him."

Warnings: Mentions of doing the deed 😏, uhhh some violence?

A/N: I absolutely love Klaus and his dramatics

Will this post show up in tags? Who knows

Masterlist

Previous | Next

The Meritech building was modern, as expected for such a big company. Walls lined with windows gave a great view of the city outside while also allowing natural light inside. Nearly everything was white, giving the place a cold and sterile feel to it.

Five and YN waited a while for the building to open before they could finally go in. As they waited, Five had filled her in on the importance of the eye.

"Can I help you, kids?"

Turning back around, Five and YN saw a man dressed in a white lab coat with identification wrapped around his neck.

Five took the lead, stepping forward and holding the eye up. "We need to know who this belongs to."

YN stood right to the side of him.

"Where did you get that?" the man asked.

"What do you care?" Trying not to sigh, YN poked Five's back as a way to tell him to say something better. "We found it. At a playground, actually. Must have just-" Five clicked his tongue "-popped out." Five smiled up at the man, while YN bit the inside of her cheek, resisting a laugh.

"I wanna return it to its rightful owner," Five explained.

"Oh, what a thoughtful young man," the receptionist awed.

"Yeah, look up the name for me, will ya?" he asked her.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but patient records are strictly confidential," the man told him. "That means I can't tell you-"

"Yeah, I know what it means," Five stopped him.

"I can tell you what I can do. I'll take the eye off your hands and return it to the owner. I'm sure he or she will be very grateful, so if I can just-"

"Yeah, you're not touching this eye," Five snapped.

"Now you listen here, young man-" before he could continue, Five had the collar of his coat in his hands, pulling him down to his eye level.

YN let out a sigh, innocently glancing away from the scene.

"No, you listen to me, asshole," he spat. "We've come a long way for this, through some shit your pea brain couldn't even comprehend, so just give me the information we need, and we'll be on our merry way. And if you call me 'young man' one more time, I'm gonna put your head through that damn wall."

"Oh, dear," the receptionist's voice wavered. YN sent a smile her way.

"Call security."

The woman picked up the phone and quickly dialed. Recognizing defeat, Five let the man go with a shove.

Vanya let out a sigh at the sight of her brother. "Oh, thank god." He glanced back at her. "I was worried sick about you."

"Sorry I left without saying goodbye," he apologized, turning to her.

"No, look, I'm the one that should be sorry," Vanya said. "I was dismissive, and I guess I didn't know how to process what you were saying. And I still can't, to be honest."

"Maybe you were right to be dismissive," Five said. "Maybe it wasn't real, after all. It felt real. Well, like you said, the old man did say time travel could contaminate the mind."

"Then maybe I'm not the right person for you to be talking to," Vanya told him. "Look, I used to see someone. A therapist. I could give you her information."

"Thanks, but," Five trailed off for a second, "I think I'm just gonna get some rest. It's been a long time since I've had a good sleep."

"Okay," Vanya said. "And your friend- is she alright?"

"Yeah, she's around here somewhere."

"Alright." Vanya left the room after one final look at Five.

He followed after her to make sure she left, and the wardrobe door came open, two figures crawling out and unintentionally pulling stuff out with them.

"That's so," Klaus trailed off as he stumbled up, as did YN. "...touching. All that stuff about Dad and time. Wow!"

"Did you have to shove me in there with you?" YN asked Klaus.

"Would you two shut up?" Five hissed. "She'll hear you!"

"I'm moist," Klaus played, patting YN's back.

"I thought I told you to put on something professional," Five said, gesturing to Klaus's outfit.

"What?" Klaus asked. "This is my nicest outfit."

Five sighed. "We'll raid the old man's closet."

"Whatever, as long as I get paid." YN snorted.

"When the job is done."

They trailed out of the room together.

"Okay, but just so we're clear on the finer details," Klaus said, bringing them all to a stop, "I just gotta go into this place and pretend to your guy's dear old dad, correct?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"What's our cover story?"

"What?" YN asked. "Why would we need a cover story?"

"Well, I mean, was I like really young when I had you guys?" Klaus went in. "Like 16? Like, young and terribly misguided?"

"Sure," Five agreed, wanting the conversation to be over.

"Your mother, that slut." YN tried to hold back her laugh but failed. "Whoever she was. We met at..." he trailed off in thought before a fond smile spread across his face, "the disco. Okay? Remember that."

Klaus snapped his fingers. "Oh, my god, the sex was amazing."

"What a disturbing glimpse into that thing you call a brain," Five said, turning and grabbing YN's hand. He led her down the stairs as Klaus said something about time-out.

YN leaned over to whisper to Five. "I like him."

"Of course, you do."

"Like I said to your kids earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential," the man Five and YN had dealt with not long again spoke to Klaus now, who sat across from him. "Without the client's consent, I simply can't help you."

"Well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name," Five told him, leaning on the desk.

"Well, that's not my problem," he said. "Sorry. Now, there's really nothing more I can do, so-" "And what about my consent?"

The three looked to Klaus, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"Who gave you permission...," Klaus trailed off before continuing to speak with an edge of pain to his voice, "to lay your hands...on my kids?" He pointed up at Five, who stared down at him in confusion.

The man across from them seemed just as confused.

"What?" the three asked.

"You heard me."

"I didn't touch your children."

"Oh, really?" Klaus asked. "Well, how did he get that swollen lip, then?" He sat up in his chair.

Both YN and the man tried to question him on Five's lack of swollen lip. Klaus, however, was one step ahead, standing from the chair and swinging at Five.

The man stared in shock, and YN bit her lip to keep herself from doing anything.

"And her?" Klaus pointed back at YN, who's eyes widened as she realized it was her turn. "That bloody nose."

YN sighed, bracing herself.

Klaus's fist collided with her nose, and she stumbled back with a shout. Blood slowly dripped from her nose and down her face, falling onto the floor.

For someone that looked as scrawny as he was, Klaus sure did pack a punch.

Five was by her side in an instant to make sure she was alright.

Klaus inhaled sharply, turning to him. "I want it. Name, please. Now."

"You're crazy," the man pointed at him.

Klaus chuckled. "You've got no idea." He glanced down at the snow globe on the desk, picking it up. "'Peace on Earth.' That's so sweet."

In a quick motion, he smashed the snow globe on his head, groaning out in pain.

The three jumped, startled, as Klaus let out a howl of pain.

"God, that hurt." His face was wet, glitter in his hair and blood dripping down his face.

The man quickly picked up the phone, mentioning security. Klaus ripped the phone from his hand.

"What are you doing?"

Klaus gasped into the phone. "There's been an assault in Mr. Big's office, and we need security now," he said. "Schnell!" He let the receiver clatter onto the desk and looked up at the man.

"Now here's what's gonna happen, Grant," Klaus said.

"It's...Lance."

"In about sixty seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door, and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood, and they're gonna wonder 'What the hell happened?'"

Five looked at Lance, a smug look on his face.

"He really knows what he's doing," YN muttered to him. Five glanced back at her.

"And we're gonna tell them that you...," Klaus trailed off as a look of sorrow spread across his face, and a whimpering tone took over his voice, "beat the shit out of us." He let out a dramatic sob that turned into a sigh.

"You're gonna do great in prison, Grant," Klaus told him. "Trust me, I've been there. A little piece of chicken like you, oh, my god, you're gonna get passed around like a..." the man trailed off as he began rotating his hips in a circular motion. He quickly waved off the thought. "You're just- you're gonna do great. That's all I'm saying."

"Jesus, you're a real sick bastard," Lance said, looking between the other two before staring up at Klaus.

"Thank you." He spit out a shard of glass.

Lance picked through the documents with shaky hands with the three watching him closely.

He pulled out a file and opened it, sending an uncertain glance at Klaus.

"Huh, that's strange," he said.

"What?" Five and YN asked.

"The eye," Lance explained. "It hasn't been purchased by a client yet."

Klaus dropped off the surface and landed next to him. "What? What do you mean?"

"Well, uh, our logs say that," he trailed off a moment to glance at Klaus, who walked around him as an intimidation tactic, "the eye with that serial number... This can't be right. It hasn't even been manufactured yet. Where did you get that eye?"

He looked at the two across from him in bewilderment.

Five sighed with a subtle shake of his head.

It was quiet for a moment before YN finally broke it.

"Do you have any tissues?"

"Well, this is not good." The three walked out of the building in defeat once again.

"I was pretty good, though, right?" Klaus asked. "Yeah, what about my consent, bitch?" He let out a wild chuckle.

"Yeah, you were great, Klaus," YN agreed, "but did you have to give a bloody nose? Jesus." She dropped down on the steps of the building, holding a bundle of tissues to her still dripping nose.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Five injected.

"What? What? What's the big deal with this eye, anyway?" Klaus questioned.

"There is someone out there that is going to lose an eye in the next seven days," Five told him. "They're gonna bring about the end of the world as we know it."

"It's a pretty big deal," YN added.

"Yeah, can I get that twenty bucks like, now, or?" YN groaned in annoyance.

"You can't be serious, Klaus."

"Your twenty bucks?" Five asked.

"Yeah, my twenty bucks."

"The apocalypse is coming, and all you can think about is getting high?" Five seethed.

"Well, I'm also quite hungry. Tummy's a-rumblin'." He imitated his stomach, adding in weird hand motions.

"You're useless," Five said. "You're all useless."

"Five," YN warned.

"Oh, come on, you need to lighten up, old man!"

Five ignored him, opting to sit down by YN.

"Hey, I just now realized why you're so uptight- you must be horny as hell," Klaus laughed out, joining Five's side. "All those years- did the two of you never go at it, or something? That would be mind-blowing. Surely you'd crack at some point. Besides, don't think I didn't notice those rings."

YN hid her face in her free hand, trying to hide in embarrassment.

"You don't need to hear about all the things we've done," Five grumbled.

"Oh, so you've done a lot?"

"Oh, my god," YN drawled.

"I bet you say that to him a lot." YN looked away in disbelief.

"You know, you guys sure have been together a long time," Klaus said. "God, the longest I've been with someone was three weeks, and that's only because I was so tired of looking for a place to sleep."

"Can we leave?" YN whispered to Five.

The boy grabbed her hand, and they jumped into a taxi.

The driver looked back at them, startled.

"Don't stop," Five told him. "Just keep driving."

----Taglist

@fancytravelerbird​ @megasimpleplan4ever​ @yikes-matey​ @we-all-are-strange​

[sachigram]

((In standard me fashion, I picked a prompt from Shizaya Week, weeks late, and have no intention of doing the others, lmaoooooooooo)) 

Prompt: I can’t sleep so will you hold me?

Shizuo doesn't think he could ever get used to Izaya and his bat-shit flea antics entirely, but Izaya has proven to be easier to deal with than Shizuo ever would've thought before. There are often hidden truths in Izaya's actions, things ordinary people who don't deal with him often enough would think to look for. Shizuo doesn't consider himself an expert in anything, but he thinks he's become a decent flea-to-human to translator.

Izaya will cook, but not without making snide remarks about Shizuo's inability to cook. Izaya will do laundry, but will refuse to fold it. If Shizuo asks for Izaya to come home early, Izaya will do so, but he'll still arrive later than Shizuo requested. Sometimes it still annoys Shizuo what a brat Izaya is, but he can see Izaya is actually trying, and that's enough to keep Shizuo from flying off the handle.

Izaya's sleeping habits, however, remain a constant source of contention between them both. Shizuo has a regular sleep schedule and always has. Even when he's angry or upset, which is more often than not, he finds sleep easily. It's taken him a long time to wrap his head around Izaya's sleeping habits, which are all over the place. Truly, Shizuo still doesn't get it.

Izaya will be up all night and then wake early in the morning, even without setting an alarm. He'll pass out at his desk and be dead to the world, but wake up a mere hour later and go right back to work. Sometimes he'll be out after Shizuo goes to bed and already be gone in the morning before Shizuo wakes up. It drives Shizuo insane, especially when Izaya will have dark circles and bags under his eyes but still firmly refuse to lie down. Izaya always says he has too much work to do to sleep like a normal person, and then he'll make some scathing remark about Shizuo having a caveman sleep cycle, and they'll end up arguing. It's always the same song and dance, but Shizuo is getting fed up with following Izaya's lead.

Today, Izaya is at his desk, clacking away at his keyboard. He has a humongous coffee cup next to him, which he will occasionally reach for and sip from, and he has a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He looks cute, and Shizuo hates him for it, because Shizuo wants to be mad at him.

“Why are you staring at me, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo glowers up at him.

“You didn't come to bed last night.”

“What's wrong? Are you worried I was out being unfaithful to you?” Izaya bats his eyelashes playfully, and he grins at the expression on Shizuo's face. “I told you, I have to work.”

“All night? And you're still at it. What are you even doing?” Shizuo grumbles.

“That's top secret! I don't ask you about your work, now do I?” Izaya keeps typing even as he speaks, barely glancing in Shizuo's direction. “I'll sleep when I'm done.”

“You're never done. As soon as you finish that one, you'll think of something else to do.”

“No rest for the wicked,” Izaya sings, still not looking at Shizuo. “It takes a lot to be as efficient as me, you know? I rest for one day and suddenly I'm out of the loop.”

“I'm not asking for an entire day! I'm asking you to sleep when you need it!” Shizuo snaps, and Izaya finally frowns up at him.

“Your nagging is unattractive.”

“You—!” Shizuo stands and stomps over to the desk, looming menacingly over Izaya. “Turn off. The computer,” he hisses through clenched teeth.

“I'm not tired, you idiot! Damn it, just—“ Izaya lifts his hand as if to wave Shizuo away, and Shizuo growls before grabbing Izaya's hand and tugging him. “Stop it! Shizu-chaaaaaaan!” Izaya wails as Shizuo drags Izaya, swivel-chair and all, towards the stairs. “Shizu-chan, you're hurting me!”

Shizuo freezes in his tracks and releases Izaya, who glares up at him, cradling his hand to himself. Shizuo feels guilty, feels like lead is in his stomach. He doesn't want to hurt anyone, but he especially never wants to hurt Izaya, even when the fucker deserves it.

“Sorry,” Shizuo mumbles.

“Oh, relax, I was kidding. You weren't hurting me; I just wanted you to let me go.” Izaya scoots himself back towards the desk, and he lifts his coffee cup, grinning at Shizuo over the rim. “What an expression you're making! I bet you wished you hurt me now, huh?”

Shizuo takes a deep breath, cracks his knuckles by one, and then moves towards Izaya again, who only looks up at him smugly. Shizuo leans onto the desk.

“You wanna work? Fine. But tonight, you're going to bed when I do, and you're not leaving the bed till I do,” Shizuo says.

“That's not happening,” Izaya says, taking another sip of coffee. Shizuo slaps the coffee out of his hands, and Izaya looks from the shattered cup to Shizuo, clearly irritated.

“Yes the fuck it is happening, 'cause if you refuse, I'm gonna throw your computer out the window, and then I'm gonna tie your scrawny ass to the bed for a week.” Shizuo smiles, but there's nothing pleasant about it. “What's it gonna be, I-za-ya?”

“You're going to tie me down? Kinky. I don't see how turning me on is going to get me to sleep.”

“Keep it up and I'll tie you upside-down.”

“Whoever would've guessed how high-maintenance you are?” Izaya sighs loudly and then shrugs. “Sure, what do I care? I'll just watch you sleep and do creepy stuff to you until morning. Will that placate you?”

“Yes,” Shizuo says, not threatened in the least. Izaya scowls, but doesn't argue, and that's a victory in Shizuo's book.

***

Hours later, after they've both eaten dinner, (Izaya at his desk, eating while working) Shizuo stands from the couch and yawns. He looks over at Izaya, who is pointedly ignoring him.

“Bedtime,” Shizuo announces.

“What? Now?” Izaya asks, looking from the monitor to Shizuo. “It's not even ten!”  

“I'm tired now,” Shizuo says. “Besides, you look like a zombie. You need it more than me.”

“I'm not tired!” Izaya whines, his legs kicking out a bit. Shizuo withholds a grin at Izaya's antics, finding them cute. Before they got together, he never would have guessed how childish Izaya can be. Izaya doesn't throw tantrums, but he does pout and whine when he's not getting his way, and his surly attitude will persist for a long time afterwards until the opportunity to be a vindictive little shit comes along. “Shizu-chan, I'm still not done!”

“A deal is a deal. Come with me, or I'm tying you down, and you'll miss even more work.” Shizuo crosses his arms and watches Izaya, who rolls his eyes, sinks into his chair, and glares at Shizuo with his bottom lip poking out.

“You're being unreasonable.”

“I'll count to three.”

“Shizu-chan, I just—“

“One.”

“This is really important. My life could be on the line if I—“

“Two.”

“I hate you. I detest you! You're horrible, absolutely the worst!”

“Three.”

Groaning loudly, Izaya pushes himself up, slumps his shoulders, and makes his way up the stairs, grumbling the entire way about Shizuo. Nodding to himself, Shizuo moves to Izaya's computer, shuts it down, and turns off all the lights before joining Izaya upstairs. Izaya is in the bathroom, cat ear headband pulling his bangs off his forehead, and he's brushing his teeth with his narrowed, catlike gaze settled on Shizuo.

“Keep sulking all you want. You not sleeping isn't impressing anyone. You're lucky you haven't passed out in the path of one of your enemies,” Shizuo says, pulling his shirt off. He unbuttons his pants and steps out of them, and when he looks up, Izaya is still glowering at him. Sighing, Shizuo walks into the bathroom, shoving past Izaya to get to his own toothbrush.

When Izaya is done, he moves on to his skincare, an extensive process. Shizuo finishes brushing his teeth and then leans against the counter, simply watching Izaya apply serum after serum to his face.

“You know, you could put less shit on your face if you'd just sleep sometimes,” Shizuo says, amusement clear in his tone.

“You sound like a broken record,” Izaya says.

“You sound like an asshole.”

Clearly fuming but not wanting to show it, Izaya slams the container in his hands onto the counter, not bothering to look at Shizuo. He moves on to the next step of the process, and Shizuo reaches out to tug on the hem of Izaya's shirt, pulling him closer.

“Let go of me. You're lucky I haven't kicked you out,” Izaya huffs, but Shizuo pulls him in anyway.

“I wouldn't have to nag you if you'd bother to take care of yourself,” Shizuo murmurs into Izaya's hair.

“I take care of myself just fine,” Izaya argues.

“You don't. Being clean and having good skin isn't taking care of yourself.”

“Neither is punching people. Neither is being a stupid, simpleminded beast of a man.”

“I think that's enough skincare. Clearly you're getting grumpy from lack of sleep,” Shizuo says, unaffected by Izaya's sharp tongue. Usually he'd be enraged, but the sight of Izaya in the cat ears is too endearing. He'll yell at Izaya later, he decides, and in a swift motion, he throws Izaya over his shoulder and carries him towards the bed. Izaya curses and squirms, his bony elbows digging into Shizuo's back, and Shizuo tosses him down onto the bed, grinning triumphantly down at him.

“At least let me get undressed,” Izaya grumbles. He pulls his shirt off, pulling the headband off along with it. He looks up at Shizuo expectantly.

“Oh, you want one of my shirts?”

“Clearly.”

Snorting, Shizuo tosses a T-shirt at Izaya, who pulls it on with a pleased expression. Izaya is just squirming out of his pants when Shizuo turns out the light, bathing the room in darkness. Izaya sighs again, flops back into the bed, and relents to being held, though he doesn't relent quietly.

Despite all of Izaya's bitching, he falls asleep within the hour. He's soft in Shizuo's arms, his leg wedged between Shizuo's, and he's breathing evenly, dead to the world. Shizuo smiles and runs his hand through Izaya's hair before he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him as well.

***

When Shizuo wakes, it's still dark.

It takes him a minute to figure out what exactly woke him, but then he realizes Izaya is moving around, muttering little things under his breath.

“Flea?” Shizuo asks softly. Izaya doesn't respond, and Shizuo realizes Izaya is dreaming, talking in his sleep.

“Need to...work...” Izaya says something else after it, unintelligible, and he swats at Shizuo, who is beyond amused. “Brute.” Izaya finishes.

“What's that? You dreaming of me?”

“Hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shizuo says. He lifts his hand to wipe some drool off his chin, and Izaya makes an affronted little noise, pawing at Shizuo's chest. “What?”

“Want...want Shizu-chan...”

“I'm right here.”

Izaya whines and burrows closer, still swatting at Shizuo.

“Flea, quit it, I'm right here!” Shizuo huffs, though he's finding it hard to be annoyed when Izaya is being so cute. Izaya makes another anguished sound and presses his face into Shizuo's neck.

“Hold me...” Izaya's words are muffled, barely audible, and Shizuo wonders if he imagined them. Izaya is never this clingy, this open with his desires.

Gently, Shizuo wraps his arm around Izaya, who makes another noise, this one sounding happy. Izaya stops squirming and the room grows quiet once more, save for the pounding of Shizuo's heart. Izaya is a pain in the ass, and he's hard to deal with, and he's stubborn as all hell, and he's the last person in the world who should feel safe with Shizuo, but he does. He's here, sound asleep in Shizuo's arms, asking to be held, and Shizuo feels a lump in his throat.

“Izaya...”

Izaya hums in reply, clearly contented, and Shizuo kisses Izaya's forehead, pulls him closer, and dares to hold him a little tighter.

[ateezmakemeweep]

on one condition.

seonghwa x reader; a walk to remember au

word count: 19k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of death and terminal illness)

park seonghwa had always been a troubled boy. 

and not in the cheesy, cliche 'bad boy' way, like he's parading around town with a motorcycle and worn leather jacket. 

in the 'he has absolutely no regard for himself or others' type of way. he doesn't care if he hurts himself in an attempt to prove he's the best nor does he care if he hurts anybody with his words or fists.

this all started fairly early in his life, showing questionable behaviors at the ripe age of eleven.

it started with skipping classes, asking to go to the bathroom and then meeting his friend's outside on the field; there had never been a child sent to the principal's office as many times as him that year.

by middle school, it had quickly escalated. 

vandalizing obscene objects and words onto the bathroom stall or spray painting on the back of the school. he was intelligent though, both naturally book and street smart, so he knew to wear black attire and a mask; he was only almost caught once.

his last few years of high school now consist of women and fighting.

because if he wasn't pounding into the newest girl of the week, telling her that that was fun but she knows where the door is, he was smacking some kid's head off the pavement for no other reason than that he could. 

that he had such uncontrollable rage in his body, probably from being stuck with and accustomed to the delinquent ways of his friends, that it was the only thing to make him feel better.

because he couldn't deny it, he didn't like who he was.

you had always been a good girl. 

and quite literally in the cheesy, cliche way: sweaters and a nonexistent dating life and your nose always in a book if you weren't at the church your dad preached at every sunday.

you didn't mind your simple, solitary life. 

you had gotten used to being alone and you didn't ever care when people made fun of you for it. because you liked your sweaters and reading and even spending your days after school tutoring younger kids.

it was a place you went every monday through friday, accustomed to the children and other helpers, mainly teachers, that were in the stuffy school library. 

you were surprised to see none other than park seonghwa walk through the doors one afternoon, looking around at the layout of bookshelves and tables like it's the first time he's ever seeing it.

you tried not to watch him float around the room, a blank expression on his face as he settled for standing in front of the main desk waiting for instruction. he was leaned against the wood with his arms folded and jaw set, a very obvious distaste and annoyance present on the boy.

you continued to work with the younger 7th grader who couldn't quite grasp the concept of solving for x, ignoring the way the head teacher pranced over and spoke hushly to the boy.

"and what exactly are you doing here, mr. park?"

seonghwa felt dread fill him immediately, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the teacher who kicked him out of class everyday back in tenth grade.

"tutoring," is all he says, surprised and ready to punch the older man in the mouth when he lets out a scoff.

because apparently after your third strike for starting a brawl in the cafeteria, the only options were suspension or helping out the very understaffed, depressing after-school programs along with an extra research project.

"how long?" the boy asked the principal who sat across from him, a large man with kind eyes despite the destruction the student in front of him has brought into the school since the day he started.

"the rest of the year, mr. park."

seonghwa's eyebrow raised as he truly considered suspension. 

because at least that would only be two weeks of sleeping in and dicking around, not eight months of excruciating 'volunteer' work with bratty preteens and mundane class work. 

that's why he got up and went towards the doorway, throwing a mock wink at the man.

"i think i'll take the suspension, sir."

but the chipper man laughed like he was told the funniest joke he's ever heard, rising from his throne and walking over to pat seonghwa's shoulder. 

"you'll start on monday in the library."

and now he sees he severely underestimated just how tragic today was gonna be, sitting across from a boy who's just as pissed off as him about being here.

"what do you need help with?" seonghwa finally asks after five minutes of silence, leaning back in his chair as he observes the scrawny boy.  

"i don't know, i don't even need this stupid help," the younger boy snaps, the words already getting under seonghwa's skin. "they forced me to be here."

"well, that makes two of us," he mumbles, his eyes moving to the test paper sticking out of the boy's backpack marker with red x's. "but it seems like you do need help, kid. a 42 is shitty."

your eyes widen hearing those words fall from his mouth, clearing your throat and throwing him a chastising look when he meets your gaze; he only rolls them and moves his stare into the kid's beady, brown eyes.

"now don't waste my time and i won't waste yours. open your book," seonghwa demands, the coldness in his tone visibly throwing off the boy.

you feel your heart grow heavy at the student's dejected, frustrated face, your chest burning with the need to yell at and scold seonghwa.

because that's the last way to approach a child already struggling and getting in trouble by his teachers and parents. 

he needs to be shown the problem in different ways until he finds out which one works for him and that's through someone's patience, kindness and genuine desire to help them - which is exactly what you tell seonghwa when 4:30 rolls around.

"thanks for the advice, y/n, but i think i'll be getting this shit over with my own way," he says, glaring at you before he attempts to leave.

you're quick to squeak out "wait," walking around until you're standing in front of him.

"look, i know you probably don't wanna be here," you tell him softly, gently, like the way you talk to kids who also don't wanna be doing work they don't understand. "but you can't take it out on them. you need to at least be nice and try to help him not only pass but also understand it. that's the whole-"

"I could give a shit if the kid passes or not," he snaps at you, pinched glare roaming over your face. "we're all not perfect little angels like you, y/n."

he's known you since elementary school, has watched you parade around with ugly sweaters and books and entertain the kids people avoid because they either spit on you when they talk or go on for hours about nonsense.

some people might find that commendable, that you give everyone a chance and seem to be completely pure and good, but he finds it incredibly irritating - he always had, watching you grow up through the years and feeling some sense of pity for you. 

because no one could genuinely be that kind and unbothered by the fact that they have no friends. that they smile in the faces of their bullies and give even the weirdest of kids the time of day.

"that's not why i'm saying it, seonghwa," you tell him softly. "i just want you to take this seriously. these kids need help."

"they need help when you're the one tutoring kids for fun," seonghwa scoffs, feeling himself grow more agitated and bitter as he talks down to you. "i don't know if you realize how sad that is."

but then in a strange twist of fate, it feels like you're the one talking down to him. because you can only find it in you to shake your head at him and meet his tense gaze.

"more sad than you needing to be forced to help anyone but yourself?"

whether he wants to admit it or not, your comment rings in his head for the rest of the day. he knows he's selfish and a bit of a dick but hearing it put so bluntly to his face causes his chest to churn uncomfortably.

"what does that bitch know anyway?" hongjoong coughs out after passing him a joint. "she's been a tight ass since birth."

"and it's only gotten worse with age," san says before he lets out a thoughtful hum. "but you know... she'd probably be hot if she wasn't such a prude."

the two boys in front throw him a disgusted look, seonghwa blowing smoke directly in the boy's face. 

"you're that desperate for a fuck, huh?"

san swats at the smoke around his face, rolling his eyes at his friends glassy, red eyes. 

"no! i'm just saying."

seonghwa can only picture you in his mind, sporting your ugly green sweater and worn sneakers, bare face looking at him with wide, innocent eyes and softly spoken words.

"don't see it," the boy grumbles out, hongjoong snorting next to him as he reaches out to grab the joint back.

"you know he could be on to something though," the driver says, placing the paper between his lips. "it's always the quiet ones who are freaks."

"ha, like you'd know pussy boy," san says, earning a loud smack on his mouth. 

seonghwa can only smirk at his two friends, knowing damn well you're the type of girl who's probably gonna die a virgin.

"so what do you know about acute triangles?" seonghwa asks the boy, clenching his fists under the table because how fucking hard is it to remember this?

he'd been working with him for almost two weeks now and he's been slowly making progress. 

some would say that the improvement in itself was a good sign but seonghwa was convinced if the boy had someone more cut out for this, he would've learned it by now.

he wouldn't be staring down at the blank paper with a questioning gaze on his face or religiously spend the first thirty minutes in a tense silence.

"there are....three angles," the boy says, uncertainty laced in his tone; seonghwa can only nod his head because wow, yeah, good job.

"okay. and what about them?"

the boy swallows nervously, eyes boring in to his like he's gonna help him out - he only stares back blankly, raising his eyebrow challengingly. 

and once the student sees that, remembers seonghwa's harshly spoken words reminding him to pay attention in class so they can both stop this bullshit, he blurts out "i don't know!"

seonghwa lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair before shaking his head. the boy lets out a loud, frustrated groan, throwing his pencil across the room and springing up from his chair.

"fuck this! this is so stupid!"

you watch as seonghwa just stares at the boy with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossed over his chest and you just know he's trying not to roll his eyes or scream back. 

before the man can say anything 'comforting' back, the younger student stomps off and rips open the library door.

several other kids softly murmur to each other before they get back to work, your eyes moving to seonghwa who hasn't uncrossed his arms. you quietly tell the student you're working with to try the next problem by themselves, walking over to seonghwa and taking the previously occupied seat.

"he's just frustrated," you tell him softly, hoping to ease the obvious tension on seonghwa's face and body. 

you had trouble when you first started too, remember feeling dejected and upset that the kids would get mad, and thinking that you couldn't help them.

his eyes flicker to meet yours but he's quick to look away, seeing the soft compassion and care in them; it always makes him uncomfortable when someone doesn't look at him in disgust or annoyance.

"what do you want from me?"

he misses your face fall ever so slightly, a quiet sigh leaving your mouth as you shrug your shoulders. 

"i just wanna help you, seonghwa," you tell him softly, knowing it's important for both of them to get something out of this. "it might help teaching him in a different way. maybe something he can relate to more."

"and how do you recommend i do that, princess?" he snarls at you, shoving his seat back and stomping towards the exit. 

you notice the head teacher's about to say something when you catch his gaze and shake your head slowly; to your surprise, he lets the boy go with a simple roll of his eyes.

you continue working with your student until 4:30 rolls around, your eyes occasionally moving to the empty table and library door. neither seonghwa nor his student ever came back and it causes a sinking feeling in your stomach.

you wait around for five extra minutes, cleaning the tables and putting your books away before figuring both of the unmotivated boys just ditched. as you're walking out the door to your car, you hear the familiar sound of a basketball bouncing off the gym floor.

so, albeit nosily, you peek your head in and feel your lips quirk up when you see seonghwa's tall frame next to the boy. the two of them are standing a few feet away from the hoop, a rare hint of a smile on the man's face as the both of them move around the floor.

"so this would be a....?" you hear seonghwa ask, the boy immediately responding with "acute angle! and it's less than 90 degrees," who then proceeds to take the ball from him and shoot; in a tragic turn of events, he misses.

seonghwa lets out a playful scoff as he catches the ball with ease.

"used all your brain power for that you can't even get it in, huh?" he teases, throwing the ball with one hand and watching with a cocky smirk as it shoots through.

"you're a showoff," the boy mumbles and you bite your lip so you don't let out a giggle, watching as seonghwa dribbles the ball away from the boy who chases after him. 

you leave the gym as chuckles ring through the air, feeling your heart tug at the fact in all the years you've known seonghwa, you think that’s the first time you've heard him laugh.

you're surprised to see his good mood carries over into the next day. 

sure, he's not being overly happy or nice but he's genuinely helping the student with his work, a focused expression and strong voice as he explains the problems slowly. 

you try to contain your smile, thinking maybe your hope in him isn't misplaced until you decide to tell him he's doing a good job.

"what?"

"you're working well with him," you say softly, turning to wave at the boy when you hear him say goodbye to you both. "he really seems to be getting better."

"yeah," is all he says, tone clipped and short. 

you look over to see his jaw is tight, body defensive and on alert so it's probably in your best interest to not mention you seeing them in the gym yesterday.

"it's hard at first for everyone,” you continue encouragingly. “but then i think once you break that barrier, it's gonna get-"

"why are you talking to me, y/n?"

his short, harsh tone causes your face to fall and for a split second, he feels bad. 

he knows you're just doing what you always do, showing people unwavering decency and kindness, but those are things he, both, can't relate to and finds makes him uncomfortable. 

he doesn’t want you to think just because he helped one kid out that means he's a reformed pupil.

"i just wanted to-"

"well don't," he says, picking up his bag and throwing it over his shoulder. "it's bad enough i have to do this. i don't need you talking down to me also."

"i'm not talking down to you/ it's called encouragement, seonghwa."

"then don't encourage me. just ignore me the way i intend to ignore you." 

you're left alone in the library watching the door slam behind him.

and true to his word, he doesn't look your way or entertain conversation with you for the rest of the week. anytime your eyes meet, he'd quickly advert them and makes sure to be out the door the second the clock strikes 4:30.

and today, as you rush to your car in the pouring rain, you mull over in your head what you could have possibly done to the boy to make him so wary of you. 

time and time again, you've just tried to help him. give him advice and make the whole process easier for him but he just lashes out.

then again, you haven't done anything to the general population at school and they still make fun of you. and it's for the stupidest of things: your 'grandma sweaters' apparently the bane of their existence or the fact that you're studious and care about your schoolwork.

you don't allow their words to get to you, though, because you were taught to always be kind and respect others. that if people are mean to you, it's because they're unhappy about something within themselves.

even so, a part of you has always been intrigued by park seonghwa, whether it be because of his obvious good looks or some feeling deep within you that knows he's not as bad as he portrays himself to be. 

through the rain as you think, you see the drenched boy, hood up and head down, as he walks on the sidewalk.

you don’t even think twice about pulling up next to him, roll down your window and ignore the way he side-eyes you.

"do you want a ride?" you ask him quietly, surprised he's even heard you over the roar of the rain; but he's quick to shake his head silently and continue on his way. 

you let out a sigh before following behind him, asking him one more time because he really is drenched and it's starting to get dark and cold.

"you're gonna get sick," you say to him, causing the boy to stop in his tracks and stare you down.

"and what does that matter to you?"

you only raise your eyebrow at him, reaching over to open the door and smiling softly as an invitation. he rolls his eyes as he huffs, looking down at his drenched sneakers and feeling it seep into his socks.

some part deep within him feels ashamed to accept your kindness after the way he's treated you but he gets in and slams the door anyway. a real stand up guy he is.

"happy?" he grumbles. 

you only smirk as you hum softly, eyes peering down to the seatbelt buckle before going back to the road. you feel his gaze on you as you drive, a loud huff leaving him after you stop at the third stop sign.

"what?" you ask, looking both ways before taking your foot off the break.

"how the hell do you get anywhere," he grunts out in annoyance, feeling around in his pocket for a cigarette and agitated when he finds he doesn't have a pack on him.

"it appears i drive like a grandmother, too," you mumble, a snort leaving his nose as he shakes his head.

a few moments of silence pass before you stop at a red light. 

"i don't get you," he suddenly says, causing you to look over at him.

"what do you mean?"

"you really just... don't care about what other people think of you?"

you can't help but smile at the puzzled expression on his face, shrugging your shoulders as you look at him. 

"no."

his eyebrow raises, something about your soft, small smile causing him to squirm in his seat. 

"why not?"

"because why do they matter?" you ask quietly. "while i can, i'm gonna live the way i want."

a quiet hum leaves the boy's mouth, at the time not realizing how strange that sentence was coming from a teenage girl.

he just couldn't understand how a young person would want to live such a sad, quiet life between the covers of books and walls of church. how someone could go on smiling and being happy when they had no friends to make memories with.

"seems like a sad way to live," is all he finds himself saying, a smirk playing at your lips as your brain quips back with a sassy comment - but because you're you, your mouth doesn't open to respond. 

you simply shrug your shoulders again, looking back at the light just as it turns green.

the rest of the ride is silent as you make your way to seonghwa's, asking him a few times for directions until your car is sitting in front of his house.

"thanks, y/n."

"you're welcome, seonghwa."

he turns to you to see your gaze already on him, his eyes narrowing at you ever so slightly. you send him a small, innocent, almost unsure smile and he feels himself grow less guarded.

"i'll see you monday?" you ask, slightly uncomfortable by the silence as you two just look at each other with uncertainty. 

the boy next to you shakes himself out of his daze, stuttering out "y-yeah.”

he slams your door shut, not hearing your car pull away until he opens the door to his house.

after your tutoring session, you stayed behind at 4:30 to make a study guide for your student and expected to be the only one there - which is why you were surprised to hear footsteps coming your way and even more surprised when you met the familiar dark eyes of-

"seonghwa," you say as you put your pen down on the table. "what're you still doing here?"

"i could ask you the same thing," he says, peeking at the paper before taking the seat across from you.

that's when you knew he was about to ask for something, like a pardon from this 'stupid volunteer work' (as if you have the authority to do that) or to cover for him one day this week so he can go do whatever normal destruction he does on the weekdays.

because in all the years you've known park seonghwa, he has never initiated a conversation with you.

"i'm making a study guide for my student," you tell him. "she's still having a bit of trouble so i'm hoping this will help her."

he nods his head at you, resting his elbows on the table as he watches you write with concentration for a few silent minutes. 

"but i know you don't care about that," you say to him quietly before meeting his intense gaze. "so why are you here?"

he lets out a sigh, running his hand through his hair that seems to be out of nervousness - but in what kind of sick, confused world is a man like him nervous to talk to a girl like you?

"i need your help with something."

your eyebrow raises as you look at him, dropping your pen on the table and the noise echoes through the quiet, empty library.

"is... park seonghwa asking for my help?"

he rolls his eyes before blankly staring at you, the dead look in his eye causing you to giggle softly. 

"what do you need help with?"

your giggle and soft tone relax him ever so slightly, popping his neck to the side and you resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics. 

"i'm- uh, i'm supposed to write a play for my class."

"okay..." you say as you nod your head. "and you need help...writing it? editing it? coming up with ideas?"

his mind starts to swarm with slight panic and uncertainty, completely out of his element and comfort zone. he doesn't know the first thing about writing fucking plays, you couldn't pay him enough money to even sit through one.

"uh...all of it," he says with a wince. "but i know you're like... a theater geek."

you can't help the snort that leaves you, shaking your head as you look at the boy in front of you. 

"a theater geek?"

"not like that," he says, tone desperate and unsure and you can hear how uncomfortable he is asking for help. "i just mean like you're probably...good at that stuff."

"ahh, because i'm a big fat nerd, right?"

his eyes close at the horrific turn this has taken; he can't even ask you for help without insulting you. 

"i didn't mean it like that, y/n."

you watch him for a few moments, hands in his hair as his leg starts to bounce and you decide to finally put him out of his misery. 

“i'm just kidding. i'll help you."

his head snaps up immediately, face once ridden by anxiety and panic full of surprise and relief. "really?!"

"really," you say with a smile. "but i'm only gonna assist you. you have to do most of it, okay?"

"yeah, right, of course," he grunts out, already bored and over this conversation.

"and you have to take it seriously. on the days we do it, you're gonna have to be focused, seonghwa."

"i wouldn't have put myself through this and asked you if i wasn't gonna take it seriously," he grumbles, watching you furrow your eyebrows at him and quickly realizing he's falling into his dick-ish ways before mumbling out an apology. 

"i mean, of course, yeah."

"thank yo-," he says before you cut him off.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly.  he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart; but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

everything in him stills as he looks at you, trying to figure out if you're joking with him until he sees how seriously you're looking at him. he almost feels bad at the blatant laugh that bubbles out of him, his hand coming up to (fakely) wipe his mouth.

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem," he says, humor and amusement heavy in his tone. it doesn't make you feel bad because you just nod your head and shrug your shoulders.

"okay!"

"okay," he says a few seconds later, a small grateful smile on his face. "thank you, y/n."

"you're welcome."

you can't help but smile back because it really seems as if he's trying to better himself now. 

apply himself more and show people that he's more than just some 'cool' guy who gets in trouble. he asked for help and that's the first step in anything required to get better and grow as person.

but sometimes people will ask for help, receive help, and it still won't be enough. 

because just the next day, you see him in the cafeteria with his group of friends. and perhaps it was ballsy of you in the first place to see him and hold his eye contact and greet him with a smile that only led him to divert his gaze.

that should've made it obvious that going over to him was not gonna be a good idea.

but you thought you were seeing a change in him, you were so excited to see him work with the students and take an initiative to do his project, so you walk over and say hi to him.

"hi, seonghwa," you say sweetly, waving at his friends who just look at you with a bewildered expression. "do you wanna start working on your play after tutoring today?"

the second him and his friends let out sarcastic laughs, you know he's about to disappoint you.

"i think you're lost, princess," he says, tone full of venom and spite. "we'd never do anything together."

"unless, of course, you're willing to show him what's under that sweater," his friend next to him says, his eyes roaming over your body and making you back up uncomfortably.

"hongjoong," the tallest one says warningly, like he's probably the only good one within this group.

"oh fuck off yunho, she needs a little fun."

your eyes never leave seonghwa's, the tight, hard look melting slightly since his bickering friends are now distracted. the change in them doesn't make you feel any better, instead nodding your head at him and quietly saying "okay, never mind then. sorry."

the fact that you apologize makes him feel like a piece of shit for the rest of the day, even caused him to lash out at hongjoong for saying that pervy comment to you and then get kicked out of his last class.

which is how he catches you right before tutoring starts at 3:15, grabbing you by the elbow and ushering you into the tiny computer lab against your softly-spoken protests. 

he closes the door behind him and turns to see you staring at him blankly.

"just hear me out, y/n."

"i don't think there's anything to hear out," you tell him softly. "you made it obvious you don't need my help anymore."

you're about to go around him when he grabs your arm again, your body stiffening immediately causing him to let go. 

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't...i shouldn't have done that."

it's like the fact that he knows it was wrong is making it worse. he knew it would hurt you and make him look bad but he did it anyway to prove a point to his friends.

"but you did," you say quietly. "and i know you don't care, seonghwa, but i really thought you were trying to be better."

he lets out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance; he really knows how to fuck things up.

"i was. i am. that's why i need your help. please y/n."

a group of kids come barreling through, the girl you're working with catching your eye as she takes a seat at the normal table. you meet seonghwa's gaze that's staring down at you, eyes regretful and tense.

you know it's only because now he's not getting something out of you, not because he genuinely cares about you being upset and disappointed.

"the drama teacher is really nice," you tell him softly, sending him a small smile as you tighten your bag around your shoulder. "you could probably sit in with her and get some pointers."

"but i wanted you to-"

he can't even finish his sentence when you move passed him and out the door, his body whirling around to see you wave at the curious younger girl. 

he watches you meet his gaze once more before they flicker back down to the table, your heart sinking every so slightly because you were stupid to think he was capable of changing.

seonghwa was shocked by how much it annoyed him that you were ignoring him. 

that anytime he tried to get your attention, you would just smile dismissively and busy yourself. that you no longer lingered at the end of the day or gave him words of praise and encouragement that used to piss him off so badly.

it, oddly enough, made the next few weeks drag on even longer, his afternoons now an even more dull and dreary experience.

that's why on friday, purely out of selfishness, he ended his session with the boy five minutes early and waited outside the library like some sort of creep; if this was the only way to talk to you, it appeared he was gonna do it.

you open the door to leave, fishing through your backpack for the keys buried at the bottom, and look up just in time so you don't smack right into seonghwa's large frame.

"hi."

you narrow your eyes at him, his body and face lacking its usual confidence and smugness.

"hi."

the two of you just look at one another, your eyes confused and awaiting while his hold a twinge of insecurity and nervousness.

you had been making it a point to steer clear of him these past weeks, dodging him in the hallways and cafeteria when you noticed him and completely avoiding his presence during tutoring.

"are you gonna make me beg?"

your eyebrows shoot up at his lowly spoken words, head turning to the side in confusion. 

"what?"

"i miss your stupid encouragement, okay," he blurts out suddenly. "and i miss talking to you. i want...i want you to help me with my play."

you let out a shaky exhale, crossing your arms over your chest and trying to gauge his mood. he could just be saying all of this to get what he wants and make his life easier.

"what's wrong with the drama teacher?" you ask him. "she's nice. i'll even ask her if you can-”

"she's not you."

you swallow the lump in your throat at his words, panicking slightly at how your heart and stomach just reacted; you should not be so effected by him after the way he's treated you.

"that's kind of the point," you tell him, voice strong despite the way you're shaking inside. "it seems as if that's what you wanted the other week."

he lets out an annoyed huff, taking a few steps closer to you and looking straight at you. 

"that was wrong and i'm sorry, y/n, i am," he says to you, watching your gaze soften as he all but begs you. "but i'm trying here. and i need your help."

you truly take the time to assess him, look him up and down to gauge if he really is trying -  you suppose you won't really be able to tell until you start working with him though. 

and you can't ignore the fact that, no matter how he's treated you or anyone else, he's here and genuine and asking for help again.

a sigh leaves your mouth as you shake your head at him, cursing the fact that's he's not only handsome but persuasive (or at least sly enough to pick the right victims that can't say no to helping people).

the silence that stretches between you two makes him ready to jump out of his skin, not knowing at all what to make of your flickering eyes and blank expression.

he nearly topples over when you mutter out “fine. but all the same conditions still apply, seonghwa. even if you're...embarrassed to be seen with me, we still have to do the work and-"

"i'm not embarrassed," he's quick to clarify, your eyebrow shooting up at his blatant lie. "i'm not," he repeats.

you shake your head at him before taking out your car keys and swirling them around your finger. 

"well, whatever, it doesn't even matter," you tell him quietly. "just get ready to start working next week, okay?"

the boy nods, thanking you one more time and feeling a twinge in his chest when you smile back and send him a little wave. 

he didn't expect to feel so much lighter after the conversation, no longer having a pit in his stomach or hearing that small voice in the back of his head scream at him.

but because he's not completely reformed, he distracts himself with one of the many girls interested in him or with his friends as they smoke and drive around their boring little town.

the boring little town that has an eerie little cemetery just a few blocks from his house.

most days when he walks home, he goes the opposite way because there's something very unsettling to him about death and dying and mourning. he hadn't dealt with any loss in his life properly, going off the rails when his dad left and then again with alcohol and drugs when his grandpa died.

he was actually buried right in that cemetery and for whatever reason that sunday night, something was telling him to pass by and visit.

he turns the corner and catches the sight of your hair, stopping in his tracks to watch as you open the old, iron gate and walk right in the dark cemetery alone.

"what are you doing," he mumbles curiously to himself, his interest fully peaked as he speeds up his footsteps to follow after you.

he watches you weave in and out of the headstones, backpack in one hand and blanket in the other as you stand in front of a tombstone and bow your head to pray.

if anything makes him more uncomfortable than death, it's religion. 

maybe because he's not sure himself what or who he believes in, fascinated by people who can fully put all of their faith in something that has no proof. 

regardless, he waits until you raise your head and lay out your blanket, placing a few books down next to you as you sit criss-cross style in front of the tombstone.

"so this is how you live on the edge huh? sneaking around a cemetery at night."

you jump at the teasing, deep voice, snapping your head to the side and smiling slightly at the sight of seonghwa. 

he's dressed in his usual all black, a sliver chain hanging from his neck and a beanie over his dark hair - devastatingly handsome, per usual.

"no sneaking," you tell him. "but that's you, apparently. i didn't even hear you come in."

he shrugs his shoulders as he sticks his hands in his pockets, eyes curiously taking in his surroundings. you watch him look around the cemetery with slight discomfort, his eyes focused on the back corner where a large oak tree stands.

"so were you actually following me?" you ask him, causing him to rip his gaze and look down at you. "or are you here to see someone?"

a few beats of silence pass before he answers.

"would it be weird to admit i followed you?"

a smile covers your face, teeth in your bottom lip as you try to contain a laugh. 

"not much weirder than me spending my sunday night in a cemetery, i suppose."

a short, deep chuckle leaves his mouth as he rocks on his feet, looking down at his boots so you don't see his own smile forming. 

"guess that's true,” he mutters lowly but you’re able to somehow catch it. he looks up when he hears your hand tapping on the blanket-covered ground. 

"you can sit, if you want."

for whatever reason, he accepts the invitation immediately. he keeps a good distance between the both of you, his butt just hanging off the edge as he can't help but stare at the headstone in front of him.

he wouldn't dare ask about it because how can he just so casually ask which dead relative of yours you're sitting in front of?

"my mom," you say quietly, because it's hard not to know what he's thinking. "she died giving birth to me."

his eyes widen at your confession, a low curse leaving his mouth. 

"shit."

you nod your head, placing your chin on your hand as you look at the death date. 

"yeah. it's always a little weird to see my birthday as the day she died."

seonghwa watches your face as you look at the tombstone, surprised not to see sadness or sorrow but the same look of compassion and pureness that always seems to be on your face. 

and now with the glow of the moon on you, he's realizing that you are kind of pretty. in a unique, natural way but pretty nonetheless.

if he thought he was surprised to be thinking these thoughts at a moment like this, he's even more surprised when he finds himself asking, "why do you come here then?"

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, it’s also something that some get uncomfortable with or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. you don’t want him to misconstrue your gaze on him so you quickly look back at the grave as you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll just read."

he nods his head again, looking over at the grave and wondering how much this piece of stone has heard about your life.

do you tell it how people treat you at school? how much you volunteer your time to help others and make them better? maybe even how you've been trying to help him but might see him as a lost cause.

he hears the sound of a paper rustling and turns his head to see you, pen in hand, scribbling down something on your book; even though it's nosy and intrusive, he peaks over out of curiosity.

"bucket list?" he asks aloud. 

a smirk pulls at your lips as you nod your head silently, scribbling down a #4 on the page.  "do you have one?" you ask him quietly, meeting his eyes that are boring into the side of your face.

"can't say i do," he hum, "although i definitely have a lot of stuff i wanna do."

"like what?" you ask, trying not to show just how interested you are in finally getting to know something about this elusive boy. it falls flat when you see him lower his head and shrug his shoulders, immediately closing himself back up.

"i don't know," he mumbles, suddenly feeling embarrassed and on the spot.

you let out a small giggle, turning the page and ripping out a piece of paper before handing it to him. he looks down in surprise before taking it from your hands, your fingertips brushing and he can't help but notice how cold your skin is.

"writing it down might help."

you place the pen in between you both, letting the book lie on your lap as you lean back on your hands; his eyes can't help but fall down to peak at the page.

"fall in love, get married, see the ocean," you hear his deep voice read before he sees ".....get a tattoo?!" he asks, voice raising slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"is that so hard to believe?" you ask, a mock expression of hurt on your face. he chuckles trying to picture you with a sleeve of tattoos, your pastel pink sweater rolled up your arms and showcasing an array of colors.

"kind of, yeah," he laughs out, smiling when your own giggles rings through the cold night air.

"why do you even have one though?" he asks a few moments later, trying to distract himself from the way your giggle just made his heart swell. 

"don't only people who are like..." he cringes as he remembers you are both sitting surrounding by corpses. "don't you only make these when you're gonna die? get news that you have like a year left to live or something?"

and just like in the car that day, he doesn't think about how sadly cryptic your answer is. how odd the dreary words sound coming from the mouth of a high school girl whose only cares should be about prom or college acceptance letters.

"i could only have a year left to live," you tell him softly. "i could even only have a month left. you never really know, do you?"

he can only nod his head, furrowing his eyebrows because while your words ring true. 

"that's pretty fucking morbid, y/n."

a small chuckle leaves your mouth at his profanity, shrugging your shoulders as you turn around to look at him. 

"i guess but it's true though," you say, moving your hands side to side like you're showcasing a house and not a cemetery full of rotting bodies. "after all, look around."

a loud, surprised laugh leaves seonghwa's mouth as he looks at you, shaking his head half in amusement and half in astonishment - he’s never met anyone like you in his life.

"good point," he says, biting down on his lips desperate to quirk up into a large grin.

it's an odd place and time to spend the rest of the night sharing shy smiles and glances but it happens nonetheless.

by the end of the night, you're both convinced of something: you only further confirming your suspicions that this boy is so much more than the person he portrays himself to be and seonghwa thinking that maybe grandma sweaters and bucket lists aren't that bad after all.

the more you talked and spent time with seonghwa, the more you saw how great he was. 

you figured that night at the cemetery was a fluke, that if you ever dared mentioning it or tried to make it happen again he’d laugh in your face or feign confusion. 

so the surprise that ran through you when, at lunch, he plopped down in the seat across from you was truly overwhelming. you had looked side to side in confusion, thinking that maybe his friends all went out or that your budding friendship was all one big practical joke.

but his friends looked just as confused, eyebrows pinched together as they whispered and hit one another.

“your friend’s look confused,” you say quietly. “you should probably go back.” 

but without missing a beat, he just shrugs and takes out a tattered black notebook.

“fuck them.”

your eyes widen at his vulgarity, watching him with a curious, slightly cautious gaze before it softens as he meets your eyes. he holds out his book for you, a shy smile appearing on his face.

“i...wrote some of the beginning last night. do you wanna read it?”

the smile that lights up your face has that familiar twinge in his heart appearing, excitedly nodding as your fingertips brush when you take it. 

“the prologue,” you correct him gently as you read his opening lines. 

“the what?” he asks. 

a little giggle leaves your mouth as you continue to read, missing the way his eyes soften as he looks at you with admiration - but his friends don’t miss it. 

don’t miss the way he chooses to sit with you everyday for the next few weeks, the way your hands brush as you make edits on your paper and the way his eyes never leave you as you read over his corrections. 

“i’m gonna ask you straight up,” mingi asks when he’s over seonghwa’s one night. “what’s going on with you and church girl?”

the boy can only look up from his notebook, shaking out his aching hand as he raises his eyebrow at the boy. 

“what?” 

the taller boy can only roll his eyes, going over to the open window as he lights a cigarette. 

“you like her.”

“mingi...” seonghwa says warningly, not wanting to get into this right now; they’d been giving him shit every chance they got, poking fun at his newfound desire to succeed in school.

“i’m not giving you shit, i just wanna know,” the boy says, “because it seems pretty obvious.”

seonghwa rests his feet on his desk as he looks over at the boy, letting out a sigh when he sees how genuine and indifferent he looks. 

“i might,” he says because it’s a fact he’s been mulling over since that night at the cemetery. 

ever since then, he’s been overwhelmingly eager to see you and please you. 

he keeps wanting to show you time and time again that he’s capable of doing this work and tutoring the kids. keeps wanting to see that happy smile that lights up your face or your soft voice squealing about how good his play is coming along.

“you might,” mingi laughs out, blowing smoke out the window as he shakes his head. “you absolutely do.” 

“i’m gonna push you out that fucking window,” seonghwa grunts, a smirk crossing the boy’s face as he shakes his head.

“that’s not very holy of you,” his friend says, sarcasm and teasing in his tone. “what ever would y/n say if she found out you-” 

mingi’s words are quickly cut off by high-pitched yells as he watches a cup of pencils and pens go hurling towards him. 

and whether it be a twist of fate or just pleasant circumstances, tutoring sessions on one friday afternoon are cancelled for construction in the library. 

the both of you look at one another and somehow know it’s mutually decided that you’re gonna work elsewhere, even though it’s friday and there’s a party going on at his friend san’s house.

“we only have to work for an hour,” you tell him as you guys step outside the school. “i know there’s a party tonight.”

“do you wanna come with me?” he blurts out before he can even stop himself, shocking the both of you. 

the boy would laugh at the terrified, wide-eyed expression on your face if he wasn’t so thrown off by how quickly and impulsively he asked that. 

“i...uh...don’t think that’s a good idea,” you say quietly, eyes trained on the floor shyly. you nearly fall right down when you feel his hand on your jaw, lifting your face so your glossy, nervous eyes meet his.

“nobody would mess with you if i was there,” he says lowly, the protective, confident words causing you to swallow nervously. you only shake your head slightly, the feeling of his hand on your face so foreign and bare-minimum but sending your heart into overdrive. 

“it’s not that, i’m just... i wouldn’t do well there.”

i wouldn’t be allowed.

his eyes search yours for any hint of a lie, that maybe you actually wanna go but fear that stupid girls or guys would make fun of you for whatever idiotic reason they can think of tonight. 

your small smile assures him even further.

“i probably wouldn’t do well there tonight, either then,” he says, your eyebrows furrowing as you look at his eyes shining with certainty. you’re about to ask him to clarify when he removes his hold on your face, taking your smaller hand in his cautiously.

“what are you-”

“you drive here today?” he asks and you can only find it in you to shake your head. 

“we’ll walk to my house then?” 

you stare blankly at him before looking down at your intertwined hands, feeling a blush creep on your face as you’re successfully rendered speechless. 

you hadn’t really know what to expect or feel holding someone’s hand but it definitely wasn’t this feeling of closeness and warmth and excitement. 

when you look up and he sees the pinkness on your cheeks, he can’t help but smile. 

seonghwa looks down at you questioningly, raising his eyebrow and looking at you until you stutter out “ye-yeah that’s..good.” he intertwines your fingers and pulls you along the sidewalk, holding your hand and occasionally looking down at you the entire way to his house. 

he ends up missing the party that night in exchange for writing, editing and playfully rehearsing his lines with you. his chuckle fills the room when you dramatically read his lines, giggles leaving your mouth when he cringes at the fact he wrote some of this dialogue. 

he drove you home after the sun had set, your hands intertwined as they rest on the console. shy gazes and quiet giggles fill the car, your softly spoken “goodnight seonghwa,” ringing through his head for the rest of the night. 

and then much to his dismay, after three months of preparation and work with you, his play was due. 

you had worked together in the library one last time, your encouragement and assurance that he would absolutely get an a filling the boy with an unfamiliar feeling of pride and excitement. 

he had worked hard, you both had worked hard, and he’d never been so excited to hand in an assignment in his life; it all had paid off because he was able to showcase a big, 100% to you in red ink.

“seonghwa!” you squeal, clapping your hands in the empty library and throwing your arms around him without a second thought. “i told you you were gonna do amazing!”

he can’t even think about your words with your arms around him, the feeling of your body against him the final confirmation for him that he 100% absolutely likes you (as mingi so juvenilely put).

you feel his body stiffen and realize what you’ve done, quickly drawing your arms back and flushing as you quietly apologize. 

but just as the words leave, his arms are around you and your head rests on his chest. once you’ve recovered from the shock, you allow your own arms to slowly go back around him, the two of standing in the empty library wrapped in each other’s arms. 

it’s a strangely intimate hug for just a good grade on a paper, your arms tight and hearts pounding as you feeling a buzzing in the air changing everything you’ve worked to build over these past months. 

“do one more thing for me, y/n?” you hear him lowly ask in your ear. 

you meet his gaze nervously, biting your lip as you stare at him with a wide-eyed gaze. “what?” you squeak, your voice barely coming out. 

“let me take you on a date.”

convincing your father to allow you on a date was one thing but convincing your father to allow you on a date with park seonghwa was damn near impossible. 

“dad,” you whine for the twentieth time that day.

“y/n, i’m telling you, i’m not comfortable with this.”

“you’re not even giving him a chance, dad,” you tell him softly at the table, your eyes trained on the clock that reads 6:50. “he’s gonna be here in ten minutes.”

whether your dad approved or not, you were going on this date. 

you had gone your whole life without dating or boys or even having a crush and now you were overwhelming ready to try it out. despite your nervousness and despite the fact you have absolutely no experience, you’re excited.

seonghwa has brought out something in you that was suppressed for so long, that you only read about in books or watched in other couples - now with your shy smiles and intertwined hands under the table at lunch, you’re convinced that he’s your first love. 

“y/n, i’m uncomfortable with this for more than one reason,” he says, sadness and apprehension in his tone; it makes your heart sink a little bit. 

why does he have to bring this up now? why can’t he just let you have one night to be a normal teenager?

“why, dad?” you ask, voice far too even and calm even though you already know where this is headed. he can tell too, because he grabs your hand from across the table and squeezes it apologetically. 

“i’m not trying to upset you,” he says, “i just don’t know if you should start something when...”

“i’m fine though. i feel fine.” 

his face turns into one of shock and confusion, not once hearing you snap at him; that’s when he notices that you look...different. 

a short-sleeved dress over your figure with a hint of blush and mascara on your face. your eyes flickering to the clock and door before back to him and he feels his heart pull in his chest. 

“i know you do,” he says, pulling his hand back and running it through his thinning hair. “you didn’t tell him, did you?”

“of course not,” you quickly get out. “there’s no need to tell him.”

“no need to-” the words die in his throat so he doesn’t start a fight or upset you just minutes before your first date. 

he knows that if you actually accepted to go out with a boy, you have to like him and there has to be some sort of...connection between the two of you. 

“what if this gets more serious?”

a knock at the door causes you both to jump, your neck snapping over to see seonghwa’s handsome face through the window. 

“then we’ll deal with that when it comes,” you tell him, voice serious and hushed. “just... please be nice, okay? he’s important.”

and with that, your dad watches you open the door and greet seonghwa with a smile, ushering him in as you giggle when he says something lowly. you drag him over by the hand, seonghwa and your dad standing only a few inches away from one another a sight you’d truly thought you’d never see.

“hi sir,” seonghwa says, his voice deep but friendly as he outreaches his had. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m-”

“park seonghwa,” the older man finishes, taking the boy’s hand roughly and shaking it before dropping his hold. “i see your mother church every sunday but i can’t say the same for you.”

“dad,” you whisper, face flushing in embarrassment. 

“it’s okay, y/n,” seonghwa says quietly before he looks your dad in the face. “i...probably should go more but-”

“no need to explain yourself to me, i was just saying,” he tells him, watching the way seonghwa’s face falls slightly and you narrow your eyes at him. “where are you guys going tonight?”

“just dinner, like i told you,” you say, voice tight and arm grazing seonghwa in an attempt to bring him comfort; even if he doesn’t need comfort, you need his skin on yours to ground you. 

your dad meets his gaze, causing seonghwa to quickly confirm the plans.

“yeah, just dinner,” he says, comforted by your arm touching his. “i borrowed my mom’s car.”

a quiet hum leaves your dad’s mouth and seonghwa feels the nervous pit in his stomach growing, like he’s judging him for being a possible satanist who still borrows his mommy’s car.  

even if he was thinking that, he smiles warmly at the both of you before reminding him to have you home by ten. 

“will do, sir,” he says, already telling himself to have you home by 9:55 so if anything, he’s at least punctual. you all but drag seonghwa out of the house, waving to your dad and thanking the boy quietly when he opens the car door for you. 

he starts the car and there’s a few moments of silence before he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“he hates me.”

you let out a soft giggle as you shake your head, tapping his arm playfully. 

“he doesn’t, he’s just...protective.” 

seonghwa only looks at you, completely unconvinced if the blank stare he’s giving you is any indication. 

“okay, maybe a little,” you agree softly, the boy rolling his eyes away from you despite the smile on his face. 

you watch him drive and admire his sharp features, wondering how and why on earth this boy asked you on a date in the first place. he turns to look at you when the light turns red, his eyebrow quirked up when he sees you’re staring at him. 

“what?”

“nothing,” you say, shaking your head before you shyly say. “i just can’t believe you asked me on a date.”

he bites his lip to hide his smile, taking his hand off the wheel and taking your hand in his. 

“you look pretty,” he says suddenly, causing you to sharply inhale and nearly choke on air. 

you never imagined someone other than a family member or elderly woman at church calling you pretty, completely thrown off and unsure how to respond. the pinkness creeping up on your cheeks is a dead give away that it’s effecting you, his eyes roaming over your face as his smile finally breaks through.

“really pretty.”

and so you don’t completely go mute and dumb, you tease “it’s just because i’m not in a grandma sweater.” 

he only rolls his eyes and taps you on the nose. “i’ve come to really like those grandma sweaters.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth and he can only smirk as he looks back at the road. 

the light turns green and your heart flutters ever so slightly when instead of disconnecting your hands, he brings it to his lips to press a soft, sweet kiss.

your hands don’t disconnect when he pulls up to the restaurant nor when you walk in and wait to be seated. 

you look around at the other couples in the area and that’s when it hits you that you’re one of them. that right now, you’re on your first date and have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. 

“what’re you looking at?” he quietly hums in your ear, watching you look around at the other young couples embraced in a handhold or back hug. 

“nothing,” you say quietly before looking up at him. “i just... i’ve never been on a date before.”

his lips press against your head and you hear him laugh against it, your eyebrows furrowing as you smack his stomach lightly. 

“stop laughing,” you whine.

“but you’re cute,” he hums lowly. 

he hears you let out a sigh and disconnects his lips from your head, taking your cheeks in his hands and ignoring the way your eyes widen at the contact.

“just take a breath for me, okay?” he says lowly, staring down at your wide-eyed gaze and feeling such an overwhelming desire to kiss you. “it’ll be fine. there’s nothing to worry about.”

“but i don’t kn-”

“seonghwa, table for two,” a female voice interrupts. his eyes widen teasingly as a quiet gasp leaves his mouth. “let’s go, baby.”

and, of course, he was right. 

it was fine. 

the second you sat down and looked over the menus, you fell into a natural and teasing conversation that carried on for the rest of the date. everything was always light-hearted and fun, never delving into serious topics or issues. 

he paid the bill after eyeing you the second you pulled out your wallet, a blush crossing your face as you quietly mumble out your gratitude. he took your hand in his, you shyly looking down and watching your fingers intertwine as he leads you through the parking lot.

“where are we going now?” 

you look up at him and see him watching you with a small smirk, probably from the permanent blush on your face, and relishing in the fact that he’s the one that put it there. 

"you’ll see.”

the two of you walk hand-in-hand across the street, tiny squeals leaving your mouth as seonghwa abandons the crosswalk signs and runs straight across. low chuckles leave his mouth as he tightens his hold on your hand, dragging you in front of him and shaking his head.

“you think i’m gonna let you get hit by a car?”

“i just don’t know why you couldn’t wait,” you say, amusement in your voice. “do you have to always prove you’re just such cool rule-breaker?” 

his eyes widen at your uncharacteristic snark, a smirk playing at his lips that only makes your small, smug smile grow wider. 

“rule-breaker, huh?” he hums. “is that what you really think of me? i got a 100 on my play, you know.”

a laugh bubbles out of your mouth as you roll your eyes playfully, your heart soaring because you just know how proud he actually is of that. something about it is so cute, that he now knows he’s capable of succeeding and doing well.

“oh right, i’m sorry,” you tease, looking up at him to admire his smiling face in the setting sun. you don’t know if it’s just because you hadn’t known him well or only saw him in bad situations but you never noticed just how sweet his smile is. 

you see the exact moment something in his eyes change, your gaze following his before you let out at tiny gasp.

to all the places this boy could’ve taken you, like some sort of underground ring or a crazy house party, you’re both standing in front of-

“a playground?” you squeal, trying to contain the childlike excitement building in you. 

“yeah, is that stupid?” he asks, an unsure smile on his face as he looks down to gauge your reaction. he watches your eyes traveling from the swings and slides, feet wiggling beneath you and feels his heart soften even more. 

your neck then snaps up to look at him, a shy smile on your face as you quickly shake your head. 

“not at all,” you say, tightening your hold on his hand. “i just wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“and why’s that?” he asks, dipping his head ever so slightly as his words fan over your ear. “it’s against the rules to go into a playground at sunset.”

your eyes widen when you look up at, a tiny scoff leaving your mouth. but before you can get the words out to chastise him, he pulls you towards the fence that is short and easy enough for you both to climb over.

“are you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa asks, bent down with his hands on your knees, watching you breathe heavily as you sit on the swing.

the two of you had run around the playground like children, racing down the slide and then chasing after each other when one of you lost. 

you squealed as he caught you around the waist, his hands digging into your hips and nearly making your heart explode. he was always quick to loosen his hold and take his hands off of you afterward, demanding a rematch as you watch him run up the steps. 

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, leaning your head against the cold chain and flooding with relief. “just out of shape.”

a scoff leaves seonghwa’s mouth as he watches you carefully; you don’t look out of shape. 

“i’m fine, seonghwa,” you whine, feeling his gaze still on you. he only narrows his eyes, rubbing your exposed skin before standing up and plopping down on the swing next to you. 

the two of you swing in a comfortable silence for a few moments, admiring the dark sky and singing cicadas. head still on the chain, you turn yourself to look over at him and he must feel your gaze because he does the same, eyes roaming over you because he doesn’t like how lethargic you’ve become.

“thank you for asking me on this date,” your soft voice says suddenly. “i...i had a lot of fun.” 

he watches your cheeks warm with a smile, holding his hand out for you to grab again. 

you take it immediately, his eyebrows furrowing at how small and bony it feels in your hand - have you always been this small?

he pushes down the thoughts because he doesn’t wanna ruin this moment, be distracted from the soft smile on your lips and the pink on your cheeks.

“yeah?” he hums. “i felt some pressure, being that it was your first and all.”

a quiet giggle leaves your mouth as you shake your head. 

“well it was perfect so good job,” you say, “another 100.”

he snorts at your nerdy comment, turning his face away to hide his smile and look at the rest of the playground. 

he hadn’t come to this playground in years, remembering it so vividly from his childhood. how it seemed so big and scary, like some sort of deathtrap that he could only handle because he had someone next to him.

“i used to come here a lot, you know.”

“oh yeah?” you ask, voice happy and light as you picture a young, exuberant seonghwa. 

“mhm,” he hums, a lump suddenly in his throat as if it’s begging him not to say his next few words. some part of him wants to tell you, break down some unfamiliar, vulnerable side of him in an effort to show he really is trying for you. 

and what better way to do that than woefully spilling about his absent father? 

but then when he finally says, “i used to come here with my dad,” he wishes he hadn’t. it’s embarrassing and kind of humiliating to talk about these types of things with a person you’re starting to-

“that’s sweet,” you tell him softly, smiling over at him warmly. “he sounds like a good dad.”

“he left us a few years after.”

your body stills and veins run cold when those words leave his mouth, your heart tugging in your chest at the sad, short way he says it. 

“oh.”

an awkward chuckle leaves his mouth as your surprised response, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously in fear that he just ruined the vibe between you both. before he can try to backtrack, however the hell one could backtrack something like that, he feels your hand squeeze his. 

“i’m sorry.”

he looks over at your soft, sympathetic gaze and smiles sadly, feeling the overwhelmingly need to cup your cheek and brush over your soft skin.

“not your fault,” he says. 

you move further into his touch, swallowing at the way his eyes roam over your face.

“well, it’s not yours either,” you squeak out, unsure of what exactly to say to comfort him but wanting to so bad. 

because sometime within these months, you’ve discovered what a kind, sensitive person he actually is. how all of his troublesome behaviors and bullshit was just covering up for the fact he was sad and frustrated and maybe a little lonely.

he lets out a scoff, that overwhelming urge to kiss you coming back with a vengeance.

“where were you years ago,” he laughs out, thinking back to his middle school self creeping through the schoolyard and etching his rage onto the brick of the school. 

because for some reason, the boy had convinced himself it was all his fault.

that his dad had gotten tired of his bad grades and snarky backtalk and the fact that he never listened to him. it took him up until a few years ago, when the sadness turned to anger, that he knew his dad left purely due to the fact that he was just an asshole.

you smile sadly watching him stare blankly, knowing his mind is probably going to all sorts of sad places. to a time in his life where he blamed himself and didn't know how to properly cope. 

if you had known, you would've done what you did now. offer him your support and friendship and let him know someone will be there for him.

"i'm here now though," you remind him quietly, moving the swing back and forth, in sync with the way your thumb starts gently brushing over his hand. 

it's like he needed that touch to bring him back to reality, his blank eyes turning to look at you and wonder if you're even real.

the way he's looking at you causes you to nervously fidget, the intense softness of his gaze making your stomach and heart go into frenzy. so much so that you shyly look away, focusing on the way your hand always looks so small in his.

you feel him bring his swing closer to yours, holding himself right beside you and lifting your chin gently. his gaze immediately falls to your lips and you let out a shaky, nervous exhale, your eyes darting across his face because you've definitely read about this before.

the buzzing energy before a kiss, the way someone's eyes lower and tongues dart out to lick at their lips.

"i wanna kiss you," you hear him mumble, his eyes moving to yours and his heart dropping when he sees your wide-eyed gaze. he also sees a hint of curiosity though, a hint of the same desire and need in yours.

you swallow again, your own eyes falling to his lips before back up to him. 

"i... might be bad at it,” you whisper, voice caught in your throat.

if your statement didn't make his heart hurt in the best way possible, your eyes proved to be the bigger weakness. proved to make a smile spread across his face, a short chuckle leaving his mouth as he shakes his head at you.

"that's not possible," he hums, his gaze boring right into you, like he's waiting for any sort of permission. 

after you let out another shaky exhale and close your eyes, you feel his lips press lightly against yours.

and while it's a careful, slow kiss, it doesn't take away from the fact that it's perfect. 

that it makes your insides warm and flutter and brings an immediate blush to your face. that after a few moments, he pulls away and rests his forehead on yours and makes you feel like that was the nicest thing to ever happen to you.

you take a few calming breaths before opening your eyes, dropping them shyly when you see him looking right at you.

"see," he mumbles, placing a kiss on your cheek, and then the other, before a finishing one on the tip of your nose. "not possible."

a flustered, girlish giggle leaves your mouth that he can't help but also laugh at, rising from his spot on the swing before standing in front of you with his hand outreached.

"what?"

his lips turned into a frown before he kneels down in front of you again, placing his hands on your bony knees. 

"as much as i don't wanna leave you right now, i gotta get you home."

true to his word, he gets you home five minutes before ten, silently hoping your dad notices and logs in it the back of his mind where his lack of church attendance is also stored.

because even though he sleeps in on sundays and kissed his daughter two more times, he's really hoping he'll be okay when he comes to pick you for date number two next week.

date number two turned into date number six and then over the next few months, you both had started to lose count.

if you weren't together at your house, doing homework and midterm projects in the living room, you were at the cemetery or playground. 

leaned back against his chest on a blanket, his arms wrapped around your waist as he hums quietly against your head. his hands grazing the small of your back as he pushes you on the swing and watches you tip your head back in the air.

tonight's date, however, was a surprise. 

he had told you on monday to clear your schedule for saturday, silencing you with a peck of the lips any time you pressed him further. your constant questioning served to be of no use because even in the car on your way to the surprise, he wouldn't budge.

if anything, he made it worse by then whipping out a blindfold and securing it around your face at a red light.

"do you trust me?" he had asked, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. you only let out a sigh, lips turning into a pout because "of course i do." 

that right there sealed your fate for being completely blind for the next twenty minutes.

you feel the the car suddenly stop, the scent of salt hitting your nose through the open window and making your eyebrows furrow together; you had never smelt anything like this before.

"i'm gonna get out and open your door, okay?" he tells you, the sound of his door shutting quickly followed by yours opening. 

you reach out your hand for him to grab, a foreign softness under your sneakers when you step out. he guides you for a few minutes with your blindfold still on, letting out huffs and grumbles every now and then that were silenced by his laughter.

and then when you hear what sounds like crashing water and the loud chirp of a seagulls, you hear his voice from behind you tell you take it off. 

a gasp leaves your mouth that lights up his entire face.

"number three, see the-"

"ocean!" you squeal, turning around to throw your arms around him gratefully. his laugh is muffled against your head, lips pressing a kiss on top on your hair.

"thank you, seonghwa," you say, tightening your arms around him as you press your chin into chest, looking up at him with a bright, excited smile. he can only find it in himself to smile back, take your face in his hands and place another full kiss on your lips.

luckily, your kissing has gotten a lot better with practice. 

pressing up on the tips of your toes to deepen it, your mouths gliding and parting as a breeze from the ocean hits both of you. when you pull apart, his eyebrow raises mischievously, both at your new found boldness and the prospect of exploring the ocean, so he takes your hand in his.

"you're welcome, baby. now let's go."

he pulls you toward the water as your giggles ring through the salty air, squealing when you feel the freezing water on your bare feet and jumping in seonghwa's arms when a big wave splashes up and hits your leg.

he completely uses that to his advantage, tightening his hold on you and running further out into the ocean. he doesn't care that his pants get soaked and his feet go numb, because your loud laugh and squeals of his name have come to be his favorite sound.

you eventually jump down and deal with the consequences that are freezing bones and a wet dress, running away and splashing through the ocean before he catches you by the waist and twirls you around.

but then he notices that concerning, lethargic wave hit you when you grab onto his arm, something he’s been noticing more and more of these past few weeks together. 

he quickly ushers you out of the ocean, guiding you onto the towel that he laid out as he wraps his arm around your shoulder.

"what happened?" he asked, voice full of concern. "are you okay?"

you insist the you're fine. that the waves of the ocean were rough and that you're not used to it. 

you push him down when he asks again if you're okay, allowing your head to rest on his chest and watching the waves crash onto the shore as the sun sets below the horizon.

"i can't believe you took me to the see the ocean," you mumble against his chest, still in disbelief that this is the same seonghwa you've known your whole life. 

the same seonghwa who constantly wore a pissed off expression, punched anyone who looked at him funny and yelled at you during tutoring.

"i like to see you happy," he says, his words genuine, without a single hesitation which makes you burrow your head and smile into his wet shirt. "which is why i have another plan for us."

you perk up at this words, lifting your body and sitting cross-legged beside him. "another surprise?" you squeak excitedly, reminding him of a child on christmas day.

"yup, another surprise for my girl," he says teasingly, sitting up to peck your cheek. "and if you say yes, you'll be my tattooed girl."

he has to keep his poker face on but it proves to be a challenge with the way your face drops, eyes wide and skin paling as you stare at him blankly. "wh-what?"

"yeah, i figured we'd just cover number four too," he says sweetly, faking it just a little bit to sell his point. "so i looked up tattoo shops around here and-"

"what?!" you squeal out again, feeling panic start to creep in your veins. "seonghwa! i-i can't actually-"

"but why not, baby?" he asks, the smirk tugging at his lips uncontrollable. "it's on the bucket list."

"okay, yeah, but you don't have to do everything on it."

his eyes narrow at you, tapping you on the nose that you naturally scrunch. 

"i think you do when there's only four things on it." 

your eyes remain wide and panic-stricken, staring at him mouth agape like he's grown five heads.

"seonghwa," you manage to get out, "you have to be- you're joking, right? you have to be joking. i can't go home to my dad with a freakin'-"

your words halt when you watch him throw his head back in laughter, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into him. 

"of course i'm joking, baby. do you really think i'd bring you home with a freakin' tattoo?"

heat rushes to your cheeks as you push him over, slapping his chest playfully and yelling at him for being so mean and scaring you. he's quick to push you onto your back, holding himself above you and peppering kisses over your face and cheeks as an apology.

"that's why i got these," he says after he pulls back, fishing in the back pocket of his jeans and pulling out five white cards. your eyebrows pull together in confusion, lifting yourself up and gasping when you see an array of temporary tattoos.

"these are perfect!" you squeal, taking them in your hand and examining each of them as if they're not gonna fall off by the time you get home; after careful consideration, you pick out a purple butterfly.

"i want this one. you pick now," you tell him with a smile, laughing when he goes with the identical butterfly in pink. the both of you run to the ocean, securing your tattoos in matching spots with cold salt water.

"this is so nice, imagine i really got one," you say, twisting your wrist as you hold your arm out in front of you. you look over to see him watching you softly, feeling a blush creep up on your face.

"what?" you say, shy embarrassment suddenly in your tone.

"nothing," he says causing you to shrug and look back at your tattoo.

his brain screams at him that he has to tell you, that this night can't end without him telling you and that it’s most definitely not nothing.

ten minutes later, with your head resting against his chest watching the steady ocean waves gain, he quietly says your name. 

you hum questioningly against his chest, feeling your eyes grow heavy at the tranquility of... everything. of his presence and the ocean and the way your life just seems so-

"i love you."

and just like that, all the tranquility is gone.

you rip your head away from his chest, eyes darting to his to see such raw vulnerability and love shining in his eyes. you can't control the way your own widen, the way your heart and stomach twist and turn into knots and make you feel even more nauseous than usual.

because he can't love you. he can't. 

something could happen at anytime and take you away from him and then what's gonna happen? you can't be responsible for hurting him and making him feel sad, even if you're-

"now would be a good time to say something," he says lowly, feeling his heart sink at the evident panic on your face.

but then he starts to panic when he sees your eyes fill with tears, backing away from him slightly as you shake your head at him.

“y/n?” he asks, holding his hands out as he walks closer to you, proving he’s not a threat to you.

"and on one more condition, seonghwa."

he raises his eyebrow at you, nodding his head as he looks at you awaitingly. because he knows it's probably gonna be something stupid like to try his very best or make it from the heart. but the last thing he expects to hear is:

"you have to promise you won't fall in love with me."

"uh...yeah, okay, that shouldn't be a problem."

"i.. i told you not to fall in love with me."

his heart sinks at the flashback, watching tears stream down your face and not being able to help the way he reaches out and takes you in his arms. he thinks you're probably just scared and vulnerable, not used to the feeling of loving someone and giving another person your entire self.

but neither is he.

and that's why, with his lips against your head, he tells you not to be scared.

 that he'll wait until you're ready to say it back and that you'll learn to do this together. 

he thinks it must calm you down a little because your arms wrap around his waist and you burrow your face in his damp shirt, muffling your cries and sobs against his shirt.

but your cries and sobs only continue later the night, putting on a strong front for the car ride home. 

seonghwa kept his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and occasionally bringing them up to his mouth to kiss; every time he did it, you looked over and smiled at him and tried to show through your eyes how much you loved him back.

but then the second you got home and your dad saw your face, he knew.

"did he tell you?" he asked gently, his heart breaking at the sight of your red cheeks and teary eyes. 

he watched park seonghwa fall in love with his daughter before his very eyes, the more evident it came the more awful he felt in his gut about it.

you can't even talk without sounding broken so you only nod your head, nearly collapsing onto the couch and hiding your face in your hands.

"you knew this was gonna happen," your dad says, not wanting to say i told you so but knowing from the start how reckless and tragic this was gonna be. "you have to tell him. be fair to him, y/n."

but nothing's fair. 

nothing about any of this is fair and you should've known life was getting too good. that you should've been expecting what tragic events were about to come.

“let’s take our bets now,” san says from his table at lunch. “is he gonna sit with her today?”

“when was the last time he sat with us?” yeosang grumbles, looking around the boy’s faces that hold a mix of anger and hurt. “he’s definitely not.”

they hadn’t seen much of seonghwa at all, really. 

missing him by the time they all gathered in front of the school after the final bell or going to his house on the weekends just for his mom to inform them he’s already out. 

and while most of them didn’t care, the older boy with hard eyes and a ticking jaw has been taking the ‘betrayal’ the worst.

“who knew he’d become such a little bitch,” hongjoong snarls. “and for her, nonetheless.”

mingi and yunho share a look, the two of them kind of caught in the middle; they’re best friends with hongjoong, have been by his side since elementary school and don’t intend on breaking that alliance. 

but they’re also close with seonghwa and see how different he is now. 

how much happier he seems because you’re in his life. they had even met you briefly after school and while you were a bit shy, there was something genuine and warm about your smile that they instantly liked. 

“she’s good for him, i think,” yunho dares to say, hongjoong’s narrowed eyes snapping to him. 

“how could she be?” the boy snarls, embarrassed that anyone he associated with could be connected to the snobby, holier than tho type like you. “i bet she doesn’t even put out.”

“i bet it’s not about that,” mingi says quietly, stiffening ever so slightly when he notices both of you come through the door. 

and like seonghwa always does, he sends them a nod of his head before sitting down across from you. your bumping arms and loving smiles make it obvious to everyone what’s going on between you two. 

hongjoong can only watch for so long seonghwa be a ‘lovesick bitch’ towards you. rolling his eyes when he watches him fawn over you, getting your food and drinks and not allowing you to lift a finger. 

(he doesn’t know it’s because seonghwa’s getting more and more concerned about how fatigued you’re growing throughout the day, something in his gut telling him it’s way more than you forgetting to drink water or not getting enough sleep as your excuses say). 

when he watches his friend tuck your hand behind your ear lovingly, a move they both would’ve laughed at before seonghwa lost his balls, he decides it’s time to get his friend back.

“what’re you doing?” he hears his friends ask from behind him but he only waves them off, stomping towards the table and rolling his eyes when you meet his gaze first. 

“seonghwa,” hongjoong says, annoyance already in his tone. the boy looks up and he stiffens, immediately recognizing the look in his friend’s eye.

“hey,” he says, voice tight and cautious. 

do not fuck with her.

“are you done with this shit or what?” 

the anger bite in the boy’s words has your head dropping immediately, eyes focusing on your lap as you try to properly prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

that’s exactly what happens the second seonghwa asks “what are you talking about?” because it’s like hongjoong goes off the rail, scoffing as he looks at his friend. 

“you’re kidding, right? you haven’t sat with us in months. we haven’t even hung out.”

“i’ve been busy...” seonghwa says but it sounds more like a question, completely thrown off by his friends odd behavior - what is even getting so mad about?

“with what? your girlfriend?” the last word twinged with disgust.

seonghwa’s eyes travel to you and the second he sees how uncomfortable you are, he stands up and towers over hongjoong.

“we can talk about this later.”

“no, i think we should talk about it now,” hongjoong says condescendingly, everything about his tone and stance making seonghwa’s fists clench. because he can tell it’s making you more and more uneasy. 

“what the fuck is your problem?” seonghwa asks lowly, pushing his friend back. 

“my fucking problem is you dropped all of us the second this bitch came along.”

the first time you brokenly get out “stop,” is when seonghwa’s immediate reaction is to grab hongjoong by the collar of his shirt, the low mumble of student’s voices when they see the first inkling of a fight. 

“don’t call her that.”

a sadistic smirk crosses hongjoong’s face as he stares into seonghwa’s dark, blazing eyes, seeing just how quickly he’s about to lose his control. the boy’s eyes then flicker to you, looking at them fearfully.

“let me tell you, y/n. your pussy must be something, i-”

seonghwa lands a punch on the boy’s face before hongjoong’s back is slammed against the wall, a hand around his throat as his eyes blaze down at him. 

"you better shut the fuck up.”

“why?” hongjoong laughs out despite the crushing weight on his windpipe. “you mean we’re not gonna share? i think we’re all very curi-

you hear yourself begging seonghwa to stop when he drops hongjoong to the ground, giving him a few forceful kicks in the stomach before the rest of the boys jump up. 

they grab the back of seonghwa’s shirt as you join them, trying to block out the way hongjoong and him are screaming and cursing back and forth despite the pounding in your head.

whether it be from the chaos of fighting or you’re already weakened, fatigued state, your vision blurs and your brain feels foggy before you whisper out seonghwa’s name. 

you feel an unfamiliar pair of strong arms around you before passing out and your world turns black. 

yunho carries you out to his car, mingi attempting to calm down seonghwa who hasn’t stopped calling your name frantically, cursing hongjoong and saying how this is all his fault. 

the two boys are quick to ground him, tell him that that’s not what’s important right now and instead deciding where to bring you. 

seonghwa rakes his fingers through your hair, your head lolled in his lap and he feels sick looking at how pale and sunken your face looks. 

“baby, what happened to you,” he mumbles out, his long finger coming out to trail over your cheek.

the second yunho pulls up to your house, seonghwa picks you up bridal style and rushes to your front door. your dad catches the sight through the window and nearly collapses in fear. 

“what the hell happened?” the older man asks frantically, terrified and haunted by how you look lifeless in the boy’s arms. 

“she passed out at school,” seonghwa grunts out, mingi and yunho awkwardly standing in the doorway watching him barrel through your house and rest you on the couch. 

he kneels down and runs his fingers through your hair again, the lump in his throat making it nearly impossible to speak. 

“i-i don’t know happened. she said she was feeling tired but-”

“you have to go.”

his head snaps up at your dad’s words, the man watching him with hard eyes and a pale face. seonghwa can only squint his eyes at him, shaking his head as you takes your hand in his.

“with all due respect, sir, there’s no way i’m-”

“you are,” he says, his voice hard and firm and such a contrast to the peaceful way he speaks in church. “you shouldn’t even be with her.”

the statement takes seonghwa back, his eyebrow raising as he squeezes your hand before standing up. 

“what?” the boy asks, making his way over to your dad. “why?”

“seonghwa, maybe we should just-”

“no,” seonghwa growls, his head snapping to the doorway before back at the older man. “why shouldn’t i be with her?”

the pain and worry in seonghwa’s eyes is overwhelmingly obvious, the love and care he has for you completely genuine and real, but right now that’s not your dad’s concern. 

if you were a normal, healthy teenager, he knows the boy in front of him would be perfect. 

but you’re not normal or heathy and adding another person into this mix of hurt and worry and pain is something he just can’t do, even with the fact in mind that you love him and he loves you. 

he knows it’s not his call to make and he’s being incredibly selfish but he does what he thinks is best at the time.

“because she’s too good for you. she deserves more and it’s selfish of you to think otherwise.”

the room, the house, the entire world seems dead silent after those words leave his mouth, seonghwa not only taken back and pained by the fact he said it but because it rings slightly true. 

he’s known since this started that you were too good for him and he didn’t deserve you. he’s been trying to prove himself worthy by treating you well, listening to all your dad’s rules and just being patient and loving you.

“i...even though that’s true-” seonghwa begins to say but the older man takes a step closer to him, his face full of anger and frustration as he tells him once more to leave. 

that’s when mingi comes in and grabs seonghwa by the arm, the boy fighting against his friend’s hold as his eyes move back to your unconscious body.

“mingi, fucking stop,” he screams, fighting against his friend’s hold and feeling himself grow more and more anxious the further he gets from your house. 

the hold on him doesn’t loosen until he’s put into the car, the two boys jumping in front and turning to see him bouncing his knee nervously. 

“how am i not supposed to be there,” seonghwa says as he looks at your house. “she’s gonna wake up and i’m not gonna be-”

“she’ll be fine,” yunho says gently, mingi nodding in agreement before adding on that your dad is there and everything will be fine. that you just need to rest and that you can talk tomorrow.

when seonghwa visits your house, both, saturday and sunday morning, your dad turns him away. 

tells him you’re too sick and can’t be around people right now. even when he pleas for just five minutes, just to talk to you and see with his own eyes that you’re okay, he still says no. 

it’s not until the man slams the door in seonghwa’s face that he lets his hard exterior down, his body deflating and eyes stinging because he hates that he has to do this. hates watching you sit on the couch not meeting his gaze.

“y/n, i’m doing this for-”

“don’t say it,” you snap. “i’m going to school tomorrow and i’m telling him.”

your dad lets out a sigh, sitting down next to you on the couch and running his hands over his face. “the doctor said...”

“one day isn’t gonna kill me,” you say, “i’m already dying.” 

your dad’s face falld before he quietly mumbles out his approval and goes into the kitchen, both of you crying separately, pretending like the both of you aren’t doing so, and wondering why this had to happen.

the tears just follow into monday, holding them back all day when seonghwa catches you before first period and takes you in his arms. 

“you scared me so much,” he mumbled against your head, his tight hold on you nearly crushing you but you don’t care; you both need this and you’ll only need it more later. 

later being when the library cleared out after tutoring. 

seonghwa noticed you purposely lingering by wiping down the tables and slowly putting your things away. he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to lean against the wall and admire you moving slowly around the room.

the room where you guys got to know each other. 

where you went from strangers to friends and watched each other grow. 

where he remembers being so defensive and wary of you because he couldn’t believe someone like you actually existed. 

you feel his eyes on you and smile at him with a raised eyebrow. 

“what?” 

but he only shakes his head, holding his arms out in front of him and causing you to roll your eyes; who would’ve guessed that the man with every full intention of ignoring you would grow to be the clingiest boyfriend known to man?

not that you’re complaining. 

you’re quick to make your way over and wrap your arms around him, your head resting against his chest and his hold on you tight and warm.

“are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, not being able to shake the feeling that something’s wrong with you. 

your stomach plummets when you realize the conversation is about to happen, that nothing is stopping it and now you’re here finally about to tell him.

“i’m okay,” you say, standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek. his smile quickly falls, however, when you add on. “but there is something i need to tell you.”

his eyebrows furrow at the seriousness in your tone, taking one look in your already glossy eyes and seeing something is seriously wrong. as nervousness floods through him, he takes you by the hand and leads you over so you both can sit down.

“what?” 

his panic starts to increase more and more as the silence between you stretches, your tongue licking at your dry, chapped lips and your pale skin nearly translucent. 

every time you try to get the words out, he sees you close your mouth and eyes well with tears.

“you’re freaking me out, baby,” he says, squeezing your hand before taking the other. “please, just tell me.”

“i’m...i’m sick,” you eventually get out, swallowing the lump in your throat because you know that’s not good enough. you know that when his eyes narrow and he says he knows, that your dad told him yesterday, you just have to say it.

your first set of tears and sobs finally come, your face falling into your hands as you shake your head over and over. he thinks that scares him more than anything, watching how fast you break down and sob out apologies, barely able to acknowledge his arms around you.

“y/n, what? what is happening? please tell me.” 

you pull back and wipe the wetness off your face, lip trembling and voice shaky when you’re finally able to gather the strength. 

“i have leukemia.”

the words don’t sink in at first, his heart reacting but brain convincing him that, no, that’s not what you could’ve said. there’s no way you could have cancer. 

“no,” he says, shaking his head as a humorless laugh leaves his mouth. “you’re- you’re perfect, you can’t-”

“i was diagnosed two years and i’ve stopped responding to treatments.”

you watch through tears and a breaking heart as his head falls into his hands now, breathing in and out like he’s trying to prevent himself from having a complete panic attack. 

there’s no way you could have cancer. there’s no way you could have cancer and be dying when you’re a perfect high school student. there’s no way you would’ve kept something like this from him.

“and you... you’re just deciding to tell me this?” he asks, his head snapping up so you can finally see the tears in his eyes. “why the fu...why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“i didn’t want you to feel weird or be different around me,” you whisper out quietly, “i was just gonna try to go on with my life and be normal and then just... die quietly or-”

he shoots up from his seat, the clattering of the chair falling back causing you to jump. you watch him pace around the room like he’s unhinged, his hands pulling at his hair as he shakes his head.

“die quietly,” he snarls out, his jaw ticking and tight and he wants so badly to punch something. “die quietly. what the fuck does that even mean?” 

you can only cry quietly watching him pace and digest the news, your head hanging low as the salty tears seep onto your lips. he’s walks over to you and kneels down, his hands on your knees as he looks up at you with teary eyes. 

“please tell me this a joke,” he says, his voice wavering and wet and broken. “please tell me you’re not...”

you can’t tell him that, so you don’t say a word. 

and it’s like that’s all the confirmation he needs to know his girlfriend, the first person he’s learned to love and the first person to ever see something in him, is dying.

he completely falls apart in your lap after that, cries wracking his body as your hands run through his hair. it’s the first time in two years you’ve ever felt scared to die. 

your condition worsens over the next few days, landing you in the hospital and seonghwa in a depression. he doesn’t leave his couch or eat for three days, his mom softly cooing and begging to tell her what happened. 

but it’s like he’s lifeless, his eyes void of anything but sadness, and it’s a sight that his mom can’t stand to look at any longer. 

she had noticed the change in her son immediately, used to his usual teen angst but quickly realizing this was so much more than that. 

she called out of work and sat down next to him, not saying a word but just stroking his hair the way she did when he was a child. 

she didn’t press him about anything, didn’t ask if something had happened with the lovely girl he had brought home weeks ago or if he wanted to talk about anything.

after an hour of just sitting with him in silence, he finally had the strength to say it aloud.

“my girlfriend... she has leukemia and she’s dying, mom,” he said, so straight-forward and matter of facty, like he’s not able to grasp that he’s talking about you. 

the woman feels her heart break for a moment, her eyes swarming with tears as she wraps him in a hug. 

“i don’t know what i’m gonna do,” he says once he’s able to speak again. “i... what am i gonna do without her? i love her.”

“i know you do,” she says gently, her heart truly aching for the both of you right now. “but she’s still here, seonghwa.”

the boy can only look at his mom watching him with her soft gaze, knowing his own face is a red, tear-stained mess. 

“what?” is all he manages to cough out.

“you should be with her right now, while you still can,” she says, not wanting to upset her son further but knowing he needs to hear this. “enjoy the time you have and make what she has left worth it. you both need that, don’t you?”

that was just the kick he needed to get off his couch and charge over to the hospital. barreling into your room and feeling tears come to his eyes again at the sight of you in a hospital bed. 

“seonghwa,” you weakly say, your lips quirking up when you see the boy standing in the doorway. your heart lifts when he smiles back at you, cautiously making his way over to you and whispering out an apology. 

“it’s okay,” you mumble out, leaning into his touch when he places his hand on your cheek.

“it’s not baby. i was an asshole.”

the last thing he expects to hear you do is giggle, sunken eyes shining as you look at his confused expression. 

“what could you possible be laughing about right now?”

“just that it takes me dying for you to admit that you’re an asshole.” 

and perhaps it’s too soon for you to be making jokes like that because his face falls as he backs away from you.

“that was a joke,” you say quietly, pouting in hopes that it’ll get him to lighten up. his lips only form into a thin line, teary gaze shooting around the bare hospital room before back at you.

“it’s not funny.”

you hold your arms out to him, uttering a tiny “come here.” he falls into them immediately, his head burying in your neck and you feel tiny, tears hit your skin ever so often.

“i’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling your own sorrow hit you. 

you’re not only sorry for your comment but sorry that you waited so long to tell him. sorry that you’re now putting him through this and that he’s gonna have to watch you grow weaker and weaker.

“please don’t,” he mumbles against your head. “you have nothing to be sorry for.” 

he knows by the look you give him that you think it’s a complete and utter lie but you really don’t have anything to be sorry for. he understands why you didn’t tell him and why you wanted to remain going on like a normal person.

because if you did tell him, he would’ve never dragged you all around the state on date nights and weekend getaways. he would’ve been far too concerned and nervous, fawning over you and choosing instead to do the same old thing you always did.

so you guys just agree to disagree, his lips crashing down on yours and you smiling against them before a very flustered nurse comes in and apologies for interrupting. 

given how much seonghwa never leaves your side, how from the second he gets out of school until he leaves (at his bribed time of 11:00 pm), you end up apologizing to every member of the staff. 

on the days you have the energy, you’ll walk hand-in-hand through the garden and slow dance with the elderly couple you’ve met; you guys had seen them dancing and they noticed your looks, smiling softly before all but forcing you to join them.

on the days that you have more often than not, when you feel tired and drained, he sits at your bedside or even crawls in next to you. 

your dad had walked in one night to see you both asleep on the tiny bed, seonghwa’s arms around you protectively with your head on his chest, and forgets that he never properly apologized to the boy.

“this is why i did it,” the man says to him the next day. 

they had left to get you soup you’d been craving, pushing seonghwa by his back and sending him a thumbs up despite the terrified expression on his face. 

“what?” 

the man looks at seonghwa as his eyes gloss over. 

“i didn’t wanna involve someone else in this heartbreak. i was... i was trying to spare you.” 

and while the boy can empathize with his reasoning, even feels slightly grateful for it, he finds himself shaking his head. 

“i love her.”

“i know,” the man says, putting his arm around seonghwa’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. how could he not when he sees the way you both look at each other? “she loves you too.”

“i know,” seonghwa says, smiling happily before taking a deep breath. “and that’s why i wanted to ask you something.”

and so it was a random wednesday night, summer break now in session and successfully keeping seonghwa at the hospital all day and night, when you completed your bucket list. 

when you whined at him to kiss you and his eyes lit up, like he was waiting for you to say something of the sort. 

“on one condition,” he says teasingly, his eyebrows shooting up playfully as your lips are just a few inches apart, so close to giving you what you so desperately want. 

“what?” you whine, your lips turning into a pout.

“marry me.”

the wedding was held at the church your dad preached out, a small group of your friends and family gathered for the celebration. it had been the happiest day of your lives, not a hint of a sadness or heartbreak despite the circumstances.

you ate and danced and sang like you were any other young bride, dragging seonghwa out on the dance floor who’s hold on you never loosened. 

he stepped on your feet and you got the cake in his nose but it didn’t even matter. you were able to get married and fall in love with park seonghwa and he was responsible for some of the best days of your life. 

seven months later, seonghwa finds himself walking through that same cemetery he (admittedly) followed you into. 

it was the place where he first realized there was something about you he was gonna fall in love with. where he saw just how much you were gonna effect and change his life. 

he had not only finally learned how to love but how to grieve. 

learned that he didn’t have to be destructive or hide behind his fake persona. that he had people in his life who cared about him and would be there to listen to him.

it’s how he’s coping day by day, knowing that the pain in his heart will never go away but that he’ll learn to live with it. that memories and reminders aren’t supposed to make you sad but serve as a way to carry on someone’s life.

with the blanket he has under his arm, he lays it out and places it in front of the grave. he drops down the flowers he’s brought every month since that devastating day and just begins to talk. 

“why do you come here then?” 

the question holds no malice or judgement, just a genuine curiosity that you perhaps understand. because while it's fairly common for people to visit their loved ones graves, its also something that some get uncomfortable by or don't understand.

"to talk to her, i guess. i think she'd wanna know what's going on in my life."

he mulls over your response in his head, nodding in understatement even though he doesn't really get it.

"what do you talk to her about?" and for the life of him, he can't understand why he's so interested in this. in you, all of the sudden.

you turn to look at him, slightly surprised that he's taking the lead in the conversation and showing an interest. but before he can misconstrue your gaze on him, you shrug your shoulders.

"anything really. i tell her about school or my dad's sermons or what i did during the weekend. sometimes i'll read."

he talks about his upcoming semester of school and how excited he is about it.

“i wish you’d be able to see me,” he says quietly, the lump forming in his throat making it difficult to breathe. 

he stands up to run his hand along the cold stone, his long fingers trailing over it before he moves back and looks over the engraving; a few moments later, he feels arms around his waist and smiles softly at the feeling. 

“you okay?” the soft voice asks him quietly. 

“yeah,” he says lowly, feeling the presence behind him move. “just telling her about school.” 

a quiet, soft hum rings through the air. 

“she’d be proud of you, you know.”

his eyes look over the grave once more before turning around, his eyes and smile softening. “i know.” he stands there silently, looking down at the headstone before picking up his blankets and saying his final goodbyes.

“see you soon, mom.” 

he turns around and meets your teary gaze, taking you in his arms and placing a kiss on the top of your head. 

“no crying, pretty girl.”

the doctors had called your remission nothing short of a miracle, transporting you to a different hospital where new treatments were being held. 

you all had been convinced that it was gonna be a waste, almost denying the treatment all together and letting the spot go to someone who’s family hadn’t come to terms with their loved ones death.

but then seonghwa’s mom came in and softly encouraged you to take it, her hand holding tightly onto yours like she knew you guys were gonna need each other come the time.

“you say that every time,” you sniffle, pouting as he wipes at the tears on your face. 

“because you cry every time.”

your soft giggle rings through the cemetery, your hands intertwined as you walk out of the squeaky gate that always reminds you of the night you shared your bucket list. 

(the bucket list that now has way more than four things on it). 

[malethirsty]

Beats, Alleys & Seats - Billy (Asphyxiation) / Kinktober 2020

Summary: Tired of coming up short at the bar, you decide to step out of your comfort zone, but when you entangle with the club’s bad guy Billy, you step becomes a massive leap. 

Warnings: Smut (21+), Bareback (Wrap Before You Tap!), Choking-BDSM (Have a safe word!)

Whilst it seems like a Gen Z thing, clubbing has been a tradition passed on through the generations, whether it be your folks at a punk rock bar, a disco lounge, or you at a nightclub with Dance music, the aim is still the same, arrive, drink till you get drunk, tipsy or have enough to still stay safe, dance around to the music, live in the moment and then leave when the times right with someone new on your arm, or head out alone, filled with the memories of how good the night was and crave the opportunity to return when you can. You had done the latter so many times that you’d become tired of constantly coming up short, so as you eschewed your usual nightlife clothes and donned something more risqué, coated in leather, striding down to the club on the side of the street of your apartment complex, one aim was on your mind: Get Thoroughly Fucked. You’d become a regular at the bar, so getting in through the line wasn’t an issue, and you were once again met with the thudding of EDM and strobe lights flashing an array of colours as people moved around in random patterns fitting their definition of the word ‘dancing’. You’d decided tonight instead of throwing yourself into the music, you’d strike right at the heart of the source of lonely patrons looking for a casual fuck: The Bar.

So you crossed over to the counter where people were collecting their drinks and moving along to tables so they could sip and relax, deciding spur of the moment on your order “Sex On The Beach please” you told the bartender, who immediately grabbed together the various juices, vodka and the cocktail shaker “Looking for some action tonight?” the tender quizzed as he shook the mixer, tossing it around a bit to wrangle the mixtures together “Yeah” you responded “You’ve got your work cut out for you. You need to approach the right person at the earliest hour, otherwise you’ll get waved on, clubbers are vicious, especially when it gets real late like now.” Whilst you nodded and gave a courteous ‘uh huh’ at his advice, innerly you realised how deep you’d have to dive in order to secure your catch of the night, however as you scanned the room, you caught sight of a table with one of the regulars drinking alone, he was wearing a leather vest, was decked in tattoos on his sleeves, and looked like he knew how to fuck someone up, both literally and sexually. You had recognised him as he was often in the bar on the nights you came, he didn’t usually stay for long, usually he’d leave with some girl, or get into a fight due to sleazy behaviour and have to be escorted out by the security guards, you knew he was hot, and had wanted to approach him before, but alongside his various exhibits, your nerves held you back, not tonight though. 

Your revery was interrupted by the bartender tapping you on the shoulder, you turned as he presented you with your cocktail of choice. You paid the tender and shot a thank you his way as he left to continue to take orders from the other patrons coming up the bar, taking the cocktail, you made your way over to your targets table, swerving around so as to not knock over your cocktail by colliding with passing raving clubbers. You eventually arrived without spilling a drop, and crossed over to the man, taking a seat on the lounge directly opposite his position on the table. He looked up as you took your seat, before staring down at his glass before commenting “Usually people ask if the seat’s taken before they sit with someone.” He seemed a bit disgruntled, brought on by the beers he’d been going through, but you didn’t come all this way to not stand your ground “If this seat had been taken, it wouldn’t be occupied for long, you’d be out dancing with the person, or fucking their brains out in the bathroom. And when were you such a stickler for this clubs rules?” He looked up “You a fucking staff member or something? Tailing me so you can get on my ass later?” You took a sip of your cocktail, the liquid seemingly giving you the confidence to retort “No just a humble fan who’s a regular here. And I’d rather you on my ass, but somewhere in private rather than get you thrown out again, eh?” “Feisty aren’t cha, I like em feisty, what’s your name pretty?” “Y/N” you responded, this was going well “Y/N” he repeated as if swishing the way it sounded around in his mouth “Well Y/N, my names Billy. You might wanna drink up before someone spikes your drink.” 

Taking his advice head on, you skulled the rest of your drink, not an easy task, given the fact your cocktail contained vodka, the Russian delicacy burning your throat as it went down. You hacked a bit, gulping for air, but you were determined to not let this break you “Damn, that shit’s strong.” You commented mattarfactly to Billy, as if you were making a comment about the weather, he raised his eyebrows, clearly impressed “Scrawny guy like you, didn’t think you’d be able to handle that, people like you pussy out and make it without the vodka so they can swig it better.” “Do they now? Well to tell you something, don’t let my looks fool you, I can take em hard.” You knew your innuendo had worked as Billy shifted on the lounge, due to the fact that his dick had begun to harden in his pants. Knowing you were getting to him, you continued “In fact, this is quite tame, but what do you expect from this bar, you have soft drinks, weak ass security, and one night stands who’s holes are so wide, they can’t even grip your dick properly.” “You’re a regular here, what does that say bout you?” Billy sharply responded. Damn, he was good, but you were better, you knew it so you did what you could to counter his smart retort “I told you, don’t let my looks fool me, I’m not one of the usual girls who flings their panties at you begging you to get your dick wet, I’m taking my time, working out what gets you off, so that when I get to ride that wave of orgasm later, I’m not the only one getting off.” “And what do I like Y/N?” Billy questioned, his voice now becoming very soft, his bravado dropping, as if testing you “You like someone to be on your wavelength, to acknowledge you, how sharp you are, how hot you are, but also someone who can sink beneath you so you are still in charge. And if you let me Billy, I can be all that and more, so, what do you say big boy?” 

Billy swallowed deeply, before letting out a heavy breath, leaning over the table he whispered in your ear “I say you should come over here, sit on my lap and give me a test ride Mr. Confident.” The dance floor at this point was packed with people, so thankfully the security couldn’t see you as you crossed over to Billy’s side of the sofa and sat on his lap, his erection prominent against the fabric of his pants. You slowly began to work yourself up and down, giving him his own personal lap dance to the thudding of the EDM coming from the speakers. It was softer in the sofa areas speakers, so you could clearly hear the pleasurable groans and encouragement Billy was whispering to you “Oh yeah Y/N, that’s right, show daddy what he’s working with.” After a slow but seductive performance, he gripped onto your ass cheeks and began to move you to the beat, a lot rougher than your initial pace “God this would feel incredible with your walls wrapped around me as I pump into your slutty ass, make you moan as I fuck you like the bitch you are, fuck!” He breathed the last part out in pleasure as he grabbed your right hand which you’d used to balance yourself on him and slid it in his pants, coming into contact with his dick, hard and pulsating in your grasp “That’s what your doing to me Y/N, you’ve made me so fucking hard, got me so close to coming in my pants.” You knew you had him in the palm of your hand now, there was no way you weren’t gonna get your back blown out tonight. “Take me out of here Billy, show me what a good time with you is really like.” He grinned at you “Now you’re really gonna get it you fucking slut, follow me.” He growled out, and gripping onto your hand, you both worked your way through the bar and made it outside, tension rising all the while. 

You walked a considerable distance across from the bar before Billy made a sharp abrupt turn into an empty alleyway, slamming you into the wall as he smashed his lips to yours. Whilst they were thin, he still made the kiss impactful, and it was easier for him to slip his tongue into your mouth, the two of you doing a mouthy tango with the other for a while until he wrenched you away “On your knees” he demanded, and adrenaline pumping through your system, you obeyed, sinking down, pulling his pants down as you went down, his thick cock dropping out, incredibly hard from both your dirty talk and the lap dance as well, precum slicked on it “While I love that your admiring my cock, it would be better if you were choking on it as I fucked your mouth.” The filth purring out of Billy was utter music to your ears, and without further ado, you sunk down onto his cock, pushing his length down as far as you could go “Yeah that’s right, get daddy all down your throat baby” Billy purred as you encased his length in your hot, wet mouth. With a good idea of how much you could handle, you began to suck, up and down you went, cries of lust coming from the bold man above you, shimmering in the dark light of the alley. “God damn, you’re fucking professional at this shit, you sure you’re not a whore?” You moved off his cock to respond “No I’m not” Billy’s hand suddenly surged down, grasping your hair and shoved you back onto his cock “I didn’t say you could stop, now you’re gonna take me right down to the base, till your lips are touching my balls” you now started to gag around him, spit flying from your throat onto his member “Fuck yeah, drool over this cock, get it wet for when I fuck you bareback, pump my load inside you!” 

As he continued to push you down on his cock, you began to get caught up in the moment, a light sensation ripping through you as you choked on his dick, whilst choking could be deadly and bad for your airways, for some reason, as you struggled to focus your breath in through your nose and not your mouth, it was as if you were floating on air, midway between the ground and the sky, you’d never experienced anything like it before but loved it immensly. Wanting Billy to experience the same high, you began to roll his balls, eliciting cries from the man above you “OH FUCK! Yeah that’s right, work those balls Y/N, Jesus Christ you’re gonna make me cum in your mouth!” You realised the sudden grip of your hair had gone, Billy’s hands now flat against the wall as he arched forwards, taking advantage, you pulled off his cock with a loud slurp, causing Billy to groan in confusion “Huh, what?” “I think you said something about wanting to fuck me, and if that’s the case, we should make the way back to your place so you can do that, I don’t want you coming until your balls deep.” Billy looked exasperated “My flat’s too fucking far, can’t I fuck you here up against the wall?” You shook your head, a better idea forming “You got a car?” Billy’s eyes began to glint as he saw where you were going “My my, aren’t you full of fuckin ideas. Alright, I’ll take you back, but” he pulled his pants back up “The spit on my cock will be your lube tonight, so you better hope it hasn’t dried by the time we get there.” 

As it turns out, it was an empty threat, as his car was parked down a couple more streets not too far from where you were. You let him walk up to the door and kept a distance as he opened the car, and pushed the front seat down. Getting in, he cocked his fingers at you, and obediently, you made your way into the car, shutting and locking the front door behind you. You straddled Billy as he rested back on his seat, whilst you pulled your shirt and pants off, giving him a show which he appreciated with a wolf whistle “Damn, you’re gonna look so pretty when you ride daddy’s dick like a dirty slut.” He growled out as you leaned down to his ear “Come on then daddy, show me what I’m working with” mimicking his flirty taunt in the bar earlier. He grinned up at you as he leaned up, pulling his best off, exposing his torso, also covered in tattoos, as you admired the art, you lifted yourself up so he could pull off his pants, leaving them in a bunch on the floor “You ready for this?” He said, grabbing onto his dick and slapping it against your ass, you nodded and he wasted no time thrusting into you, both of you crying out in pleasure, it was finally happening, you were getting fucked by a bar guy, and fuck did it feel good! You placed your hands onto his pecs, grabbing his nipples and tweaking them as you began to ride his cock, gazing down at Billy, seeing how into it he was, sweat forming on his forehead as he watched in lustful awe, mouth open and letting deep breaths out “Fuck yeah, ride that shit baby, take daddy’s cock into your ass, fuck it like it deserves to be fucked” He snaked his hands up and grabbed onto your ass, guiding you onto his cock, now setting control. You surged forwards, kissing him deeply, before moving down his neck, onto the tattoos on his torso, you began to trail your tongue around them, to the utter pleasure of the man now fucking you passionately hard “Oh fuck, damn you really like that shit?” You nodded your head up at Billy, who seemed too into it to tell you to be verbal, soon returning back to his tattoos. 

After a while, Billy’s hands left your side, making you resume the faster pace he had set, his hands trailed up to your neck, as he wrapped his big hands around your neck and pushed in harder, finding the sight of you being choked by him utterly arousing. Not that you were complaining, thanks to him, you were back on that high you had experienced in the alleyway when he pushed you onto his dick, you lost all focus of the situation, Billy’s pounding, his face, the car, everything, white spots were dancing in your vision as the lack of oxygen, sent you spiralling into a sense of a mixture of euphoria and nothingness. You had no idea how much time had passed, or even what was happening until Billy’s hand slapped you across the face, pulling you out of your revery. “I said do you like being Daddy’s fucksleeve? Answer me Y/N, or I fucking pull out and finish on your face like I should have done in the alley!” “No! No! I fucking love it!” You said in a panic, you’d come so far, that you couldn’t be left in the lurch now “Then. Why. Didn’t. You. Fucking. Answer?” Billy roughly said as he slapped his cock further into you, hitting your prostate on each stroke “I didn’t hear you, I was loving how you were choking me daddy!” It all came spilling out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, Billy suddenly halted, a mixture of shock and surprise on his face. You stayed like that for a moment before he caught his bearings and grinned at you “So you like being choked huh?” “Y-yes” you breathed out, not noticing you had been holding your breath “Oh this is gonna be so fucking nasty, but so fucking hot at the same time!” Billy cried out, like a man who’d struck gold in a mine, you had no idea what he was thinking until you heard the seatbelt being withdrawn forwards, wrapping part of it round your neck “You hit me on the chest if you need to stop, alright?” Billy told you and you nodded, showing you understood “That’s the spirit Y/N.” He said before pulling back. You began to choke again, yet under Billy’s control and full understanding of what made you tick, it didn’t hurt, once again it was like you were flying in midair, only this time it was as if you saw Billy flying across from you, at the same midrange position you were in “Fuck, you feel that Billy?” You gasped out “Fuck yeah I do! God your clenching around me so fucking tight, so fucking good for me Y/N.” He drawled out, deciding to tweak your nipples the same as you’d done to him, you drew a desperate grasp of air as you slammed your hand against the glass window which had begun to mist up. 

“Fuck Tiger, you look damn near ready to explode” Famous Last Words from Billy as high from the adrenaline, Billy’s cock, and the seatbelt contracting your neck, you came all over Billy, load after load splashing onto his tattooed torso “Fuck! Damn! You really needed that, didn’t you Y/N?” Billy loosened the seatbelt so you could respond to him, you coming slowly off of the high “Yeah, I guess I did” “Well your walls are clenching round me, so I’m ready to come as well, you gonna take all my load, take it all for me?” You nodded, though less throughly then before, a slight pain starting to form from your neck, Billy gripped onto your sides and moved you up and down as he ansi thrusted into you rougher than before, chasing his own orgasm “Fuck yes, so tight, bare down on me Y/N, fuck like that, oh fuck I’m gonna come!” Billy suddenly started groaning and growling in powerful domination as he shot load upon load, so much was filling you up, it was like a volcano had exploded in your ass. You didn’t think he would stop, but eventually the last of his load pumped into you, he let out a ragged breath, sucked one in, and let his hands give way, causing you to fall on top of him. He began to laugh “God damn Y/N, that was one of the fucking best orgasms I’ve fucking had, got to take you back to mine for Round #2.” You looked up at him “You sure you can go again? That seemed like a lot for you” He gripped your hair, albeit softer than the alleyway due to having climaxed “You don’t even know, you’ve never had a man as hot as me or can last as long as I can.” “Even if I sucked your balls instead of your dick for the second round?” You countered “Fuck now you’re asking for it, get into the seat and fasten up, I’m gonna give you a night you won’t fuckin forget!” As Billy started his car up and drove off to his apartment, you sucked in a deep breath, and looked across at him while he drove, both of you innerly counting the moments until both of you would ride the high together again. 

[cattles-bians]

damie vibecca exes au part 8

post directory

obsetress: now i just want fanart of damvibecca at the gym

em: well. pitch it to me comrade ghostfucker

obsetress: idk that's about as far as i got i just reread that bit about vibecca in their matching gym outfits and my brain got stuck

em: hypothetically do u have a colour palette in mind bc i associate gym outfits w like. bright loud colours and

em: idk if it works w our earth sign queens

[em note: emily is a liar and did NOT draw fanart of damvibecca at the gym]

[em note 2: we have the gym art now [x] [x]]

obsetress: i was imagining like charcoals tbh, or jewel tones

obsetress: i could see them in like jewel tone purples or that jewel tone blue green color

obsetress: yeah viola jewel tones or blacks n charcoals

obsetress: becs pastels and camels but jewel tones at the gym

em: it’s about Matching

em: And Destroying Ur Ex (platonically)

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: viola's feeling particularly smug about it but then

obsetress: dani's in an old school tshirt and shorts and jamie's in............ one of dani's old school tshirts and shorts

em: YES

obsetress: not intentionally, she just grabbed whatever was there

obsetress: dani chirps "oh you two look so cute! baby look, they have a matched set"

obsetress: viola arches an eyebrow "and so do you, it seems" and dani laughs "not on purpose, jamie just grabbed whatever was on top in the drawer"

viola: you two... share... a wardrobe?

dani: yeah?

em: god cute

obsetress: cute n dumb

em: they can share nearly everything except pants

em: well. pants as a treat

em: haha pants

em: trousers

obsetress: also rly nice rly clean smooth funny juxtaposition in my brain of vibecca being the ones who intentionally match and damie the ones for whom it just accidentally happens

obsetress: hahahah pants

obsetress: they can share pants but................ should they

em: idk miss chapter 12 danis thighs jamies pyjamas

em: should they

obsetress: PLEASE

obsetress: that's exactly what i was referring to THANKS

obsetress: anyway

obsetress: rebecca just laughs

obsetress: viola huffs and bex is like "sorry, babe, but it is kind of funny"

em: dani jamie wearing like

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY

em: poor viola

obsetress: thinking about dani's ass in those

em: yeah....

em: violas huffing until jamies exercise flush lasts a little Too Long

obsetress: big blush jamie taylor

em: she’s still like ‘oi dani close ur mouth’ but then she

obsetress: yeah

obsetress: just ogling each other

obsetress: (they briefly pause to ogle vi and rebecca passing a medicine ball back and forth as they do squats and have to acknowledge that, yeah, they've all done alright by themselves)

em: funny montage of the gang doing exercise while surreptitiously taking Peaks

obsetress: omg all i want

obsetress:sometimes having friends as a lesbian means they're all your exes except one, who's your gf, and you're all checking each other out always anyway

em

And That’s Beautiful

obsetress

obsetress: dani: checking out viola's biceps, rebecca's abs

viola: checking out dani's thighs n ass

rebecca: minding her business

jamie: scowling n scrawny

obsetress:(n also checking out dani's thighs n ass, viola's biceps, and begrudgingly peeking at rebecca's abs)

obsetress: every other woman at the gym: checking out jamie, trying to figure out the entire dynamic here

are they a polycule? what

em: jamie probably like

em: maybe she gets really into running bc she just checks out and listens to her audiobooks but like

em: slow twitch vs fast twitch fibers so stays scrawny

obsetress: i can see that

obsetress: just gets on the treadmill and zones tf out

em: jamie ‘why don’t i have biceps’ taylor vs jamie ‘no u gotta lift w ur hips’ taylor

obsetress: she hates it but her psych told her it'll be good for her routine so you know she was like yes ma'am every day ma'am

em: cant believe safe lifting procedures screwed her over

em: ‘yes ma’am every day ma’am’ ur just Going for it arent ya anshdjdh

obsetress: sorry but don't tell me you can't hear it

obsetress: jamie's the person who takes notes in therapy

obsetress: jamie, in the locker room after their workout: do my biceps look bigger?

dani, patiently, already knowing where this is going: bigger than what, baby?

jamie: than yesterday

dani: mm, rome wasn't built in a day, you know

jamie: do they look bigger at all?

dani: well

em: i mean not to perceive her too much but mattresses scene indicates AE/jamie like. at least some muscle in the leg area

em: poor jamie

em: not playing to her strengths

obsetress: yeah she does

obsetress: i mean ae has toned af arms

obsetress: she's just wiry

em: how could i forget the benchpressing dog gif

obsetress: dani's like "jamie, baby, come do squats with me and vi" "m'good" "baby, c'mon, you'll like it" "don't wanna do squats" "it could be good for you" "don't wanna do squats with you two"

em: dani: you gotta like. eat more

jamie: i eat plenty

dani: no u graze all day and then u don’t eat dinner

obsetress: dani: five biscuits spread out across a day doesn't count as eating more

em: dani: protein jamie it’s abt protein

obsetress: dani: you need more protein, which is why i think some lentils would really––

em: jamie thinks protein shakes are Nasty

obsetress: jamie does think protein shakes are nasty but dani will make her a smoothie and sneak it in like she's a child

obsetress: viola and rebecca, with their matching monogrammed blender bottles, just staring

obsetress: becca's like "jamie, just drink it, really, it's fine"

obsetress: viola just does this haughty sniff at her and that's what finally gets jamie to start

em: jamie can deal w being a brat but the idea of viola having Anything over her drives her Insane

em: Drives Her Fuckign Nuts

obsetress: she hates it

obsetress: just the absolute fuckin worst

em: do u think dani ever like

em: like they REALLY need to clear out storage but it’s a boiling frog situation where it’s increased so gradually that

em: like jamie thinks it’s Fine storage is Clear Enough

em: it’s Not

em: danis like. should we invite rebecca and vi over

em: just be Idea of A Snide Viola Comment fills jamie w a burning rage

obsetress: oh my god

obsetress: i'm obsessed with this

obsetress: i would read a whole oneshot about this

em: eventually dani comes clean abt it n jamie thinks it’s v funny bc yknow; open and honest communication is a v important part of their dynamic

em: jamie: next time just tell me my storage looks like shite dani or i will be grumbling abt viola for a Week

obsetress: inevitably

obsetress: when they do have to come over to clean

obsetress: dani offers them takeout and wine ("step up from pizza and beer at least," jamie grumbles) and viola's like "jesus, dani, let's just go out to dinner. my treat"

obsetress: at dinner, viola's like "if you want more storage, i have some wonderful properties––"

obsetress: rebecca's mouthing "sorry" from next to her across the table

em: every time they go out rebecca takes vi aside n is like ok sweetheart so you promise you’re not gonna try convince them to sell the apartment again

em: and violas like (mock horror) of course i won’t. ye of little faith

em: and every time

em: every time she does

em: she’s tryna HELP

obsetress: she would too she'd be like

obsetress: "i'm just trying to HELP"

obsetress: "they're our FRIENDS"

em: i’m on a mission to figure out like

em: this is way way down the line

em: but i wanna believe eventually viola and jamie start to, at the v least, Tolerate each other

em: jamie might even be fond of the crazy bird but she’ll NEVER admit it

obsetress: god like vi's on business or some shit in like

obsetress: the UAE

obsetress: negotiating some Deal

obsetress: and so dani and jamie get dinner with just bex and they're driving home after and having a perfectly mundane conversation and then jamie's just blurting like

obsetress: "i think i miss vi"

em: she’s HORRIFIED

em: she tries to play it off as like um

em: she’s Too Comfortable

em: things are Too Boring

em: which is weird knowing everything we know abt jamie

em: but actually she just... maybe misses viola

em: danis like god i wish i was recording this

obsetress: jamie's passed out next to her at home later (it's ten pm) and dani's chattering happily away on the phone with vi (drinking a martini in her dubai hotel room at one am since, y'know, no bars) in bed right next to her

obsetress: "jamie, uh, said she misses you. i know. no, i KNOW. don't tell her i told you. yeah, yeah, you win, vi, we know. uh-huh. uh-huh. i'm gonna pretend you didn't just ask me that"

em: CUTE

em: u can’t lord it over her vi it’s a little secret

em: vi's like when have i EVER

em: she does

obsetress: once they're good again, dani and vi absolutely just. lose time (there's a metaphor in there) talking to each other still

em: this is wholesome tbh

em: i really like the damie stories where like

em: look it’s nice when damie have each other but it’s also nice when they have their own friends and stuff

em: dunno how to articulate that well

em: it’s a balance! it’s a balance

obsetress: yeah! exactly

obsetress: because that's part of the love n possession thing too yk

obsetress: not to say either of them would ever be like "no friends for you" but

obsetress: wanting to have a life outside of your partner yk

obsetress: they're meeting vi and rebecca for dinner after vi gets back and vi's just grinning and sweeping jamie into a hug "i heard you missed me"

em: she gets jamie a souvenir t-shirt

em: it’s too big

em: OR

em: child’s t-shirt

obsetress: (jamie sleeps in it that night)

obsetress: oh childs might be better

obsetress: she's like "you're a little scrawny, so..."

em: jamie sleeps in it.... soft bitch

em: she feels too much

obsetress: jamie taylor softest bitch

obsetress: dani watches her pull it on and raises an eyebrow and jamie's just like "wot"

em: jamies like (grumbles) i knew she was comin back i’m just

em: shouldn’t you be HAPPY about this development dani

em: ‘s’a gift... s’rude not t’....’

obsetress: YEAH

obsetress: dani just grins "mmhm"

em: it accidentally makes its way into jamies workout clothes pile

obsetress: oh my GOD oh my god

obsetress: viola's shit eating GRIN when jamie shows up at the gym in it

em: jamies like fok

em: mental maths tryna figure if she wants to just. work out in a sports bra

em: she Doesn’t

obsetress: she Doesn't!

obsetress: (she's shy)

em: god it’s one of those shirts that’s like

em: someone who loves me went to UAE and got me this t-shirt or something

obsetress: dani corners her in their empty row in the locker room "you could've just taken it off, you know" "dunno, not everyone needs to... see that, you know?" "i'd certainly like to see it" jamie rolls her eyes but she's grinning "you can see that any time" "well maybe i wanted to see it during my workout" "dani......."

em: jamies embarrassed bc of her gnarly farmers tan means her tummy is at least five shades lighter than the rest of her

em: crisp tan lines

obsetress: god jamie's farmers tan

em: once again i am bringing my tan lines jamie agenda

obsetress: dani loves jamies dumb farmers tan so much

obsetress: she giggles

obsetress: but it's the most loving giggle possible

em: and then when she gets into running...

em: god when i was rowing there were a couple ppl w like what i called a neapolitan icecream tan which is

em: gimme a second

obsetress: jamie gets all huffy when dani giggles at her tan but then dani's like "baby, no, i think it's cute" and jamie gives her a look and dani grins mischievously and ducks her head

obsetress: and then she's licking and kissing and nipping her way along jamie's dumb tan lines

em: there it is

obsetress: it was inevitable

em: so caught up in the joy of jamies dumb farmer tans i forgot abt her gnarly scar she keeps under wraps

em: baby

em: the most baby

obsetress: baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

em: jamie decides the only way to claim the stupid t-shirt as hers is to cut off the sleeves

em: it’s abt the ritual of the thing

obsetress: she shows up at the gym wearing it and

obsetress: that's viola's "oh no she's hot" moment

em: YEAH BABY

obsetress: literally just like

obsetress: world stops

obsetress: viola stares

em: jamie finally gets to do an exercise that shows off her sinewy manual labor grip forearms

em: viola’s probably just as horrified to find jamie hot as every time jamies like oh no

em: violas hot

em: and once again jamie CANNOT know she’s hot bc she will be insufferable

em: she will be the Worst

obsetress: viola's tugging rebecca aside "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "what?" viola waves a hand and rebecca just furrows her brow a little and is like "that's just... what she looks like, vi"

obsetress: viola corners dani next "why didn't you tell me jamie was hot" "i did" "oh. right" viola pauses, then "why didn't you make sure i was listening?" dani just gives her a look and walks away

obsetress: dflksdjfldaj god the way jamie and viola are. the same

obsetress: kind of incredibly, in the same ways dani and rebecca are the same

em: “hey baby, did viola seem different today? seemed off”

em: jamies like. is she mad at me. did i break another social taboo.

em: rebecca ‘jamie looks like jamie’ jessel vs dani ‘my gf is so hot i can’t stand it’ clayton

obsetress: "i tell you how hot she is at least three times a week, vi"

em: danis tryna goad her into making the damn shirt a crop top

em: jamies like yeah but isn’t that a step too far. i feel like i am destroying this shirt too much

em: she does it anyway

em: so jamies workout clothes are danis endless grey baggy school t-shirts and this one ugly souvenir shirt that like

em: psychological warfare and she doesn’t even know it

obsetress: i would........ like to see it

obsetress: also crop top jamie is one of my favorite jamies

obsetress: she is severely underrated

em: crop top jamie is

obsetress: and we do not talk about her enough

em: jamie wear More crop tops

obsetress: viola and rebecca in bed, in matching facemasks, after going to the gym post-epiphany that Jamie Is Hot

obsetress: viola: are dani and jamie hotter than us?

rebecca: what?

obsetress: and like

obsetress: viola is NOT insecure

obsetress: she is constantly confident that she's the most attractive woman in the room at any given moment, but

obsetress: she's just so staggered by this realization

em: some neutral third party (ms grose and mr sharma probably) are like well. u guys definitely have a little more of a scary thing going on

em: i’m imagining rebecca and viola at brunch w hannah and owen v seriously discussing this

em: viola brings it up and rebecca GROANS but then she gets invested in the convo

obsetress: GOD yeah

obsetress: she's leaning forward and gesturing with her fork "when you say 'scary'..........."

em: owens like scary is a compliment

em: hannah grose sips her tea knowingly

obsetress: rebecca just narrows her eyes at hannah grose and hannah raises her eyebrows and shrugs

em: after a week or so viola bursts into a room w stupid big sunglasses and a tray of take out coffees and she’s like Don’t You Worry Jamie I Have Concluded You’re Hot But I’m Not Threatened By It

em: jamies like sorry WHAT

em: you’ve been thinking about WHAT

em: viola leaves without ever following it up

obsetress: dani is entirely unfazed

obsetress: doesn't even blink

em: danis like neat she remembered the oat milk

em: everyone in this au is insane

obsetress: any lesbian in 2021 is insane

obsetress: par for the course

em: was gonna protest but

em: Yeah

obsetress: this lesbian meme account i follow on insta is doing “stop asking who’s the top and who’s the bottom. start asking...” posts

obsetress: and one of them is “start asking who’s baby and who’s fuck around and find out” and it just makes me chuckle

obsetress: jamie taylor baby

obsetress: viola lloyd also baby

em: dani is baby passing and jamie is fuck around faking

obsetress: oh my god that’s why that’s why i think we cracked it

obsetress: dani (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: rebecca (fuck around) dated jamie (baby) and vi (baby)

obsetress: the reason they could never cross further even tho per the transitive property dani (so similar to vi) should be able to date beccs and jamie (so similar to beccs) should be able to date vi is because

obsetress: you can’t have two babies and two fuck arounds in a relationship together

em: oh of course. i see. i see

em: however in the rare rare crack ship of the ‘jamie viola hatefuck’ a similar phenomenon to ‘social anxiety mum friend ordering food’ instinct takes over and someone fucks around and finds out

em: this is just my unhinged jamie viola hatefuck bulkshit which is. it’s ironic ok it’s ironic it’s ironic it’s

em: ok one last thought bc i know it’s super late for u but

obsetress: omg i also have a last thought let’s trade

em: what if mikey is about isabels age n jamie ends up looking after him for one reason or another for a bit

em: and viola absolutely Dotes on him

obsetress: omg

obsetress: that’s what does it. jamie seeing viola w mikey

em: grumble grumble i guess she’s not that bad

em: except then she’s like god what if mikey likes her MORE than me

obsetress: “dani what if mikey gets one of those weird first crushes on vi”

obsetress: dani doesn’t even look up from the laundry “who hasn’t had a crush on vi”

obsetress: jamie’s like “mE” and dani just gives her the most withering look

em: danis like It’s Par For The Course Jamie

em: danis a teacher she’s like it happens don’t sweat it

em: anyway

em: what was. what was ur last little thought

obsetress: i was just thinking more about viola also baby and how also she’s been so privileged her whole life that sometimes there are just some things she can’t do for herself because she just doesn’t know how

obsetress: like she’s never had to learn

em: rebecca gets um

em: freeze dried coffee

em: nescafé

obsetress: but like

obsetress: rebecca genuinely loves taking care of vi for whatever reason (it’s because she loves her) when she really needs it but

obsetress: rebecca also takes no shit and is like “i’m not making the nescafé for you. you’re 36 years old, vi, you need to learn to do it for yourself”

obsetress: and she’ll stand there and watch her do it and then she makes vi do it at least three more times for posterity

obsetress: “i’ll make a plebeian of you yet, viola lloyd”

obsetress: (god only the two of them would think a line like that is funny)

[that-winged-rat]

Promises

Promises ~ Part 6

*not my gif*

Summary: Y/N loses hope when her and the others find out why she has been cursed.

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Rowena, Chuck.

Warnings: angst, hopelessness, chuck

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: The long overdue part six of Promises! I guess I owe an apology for not uploading this part for so long, I didn’t really know where to go with the storyline but yeh. Also, sorry it’s so short. Anyhoo it’s here now so enjoy! Also, I’ve never written Chuck before so it might be a bit off :)

“Chuck, you get your ass here right now, you dick.”

The man chuckled to himself, kicking his feet up and sipping on his martini. The heat bouncing off his pasty skin as he shifted in his pool chair.

“What are you laughing at?” his sister asked from the chair next to him.

“They figured it out,” he said. “I just got an angry prayer from Dean Winchester.”

His sister sighed, pushing down her sunglasses to look at him. “Did you really have to do that to her, Chuck? You could’ve just killed her.”

“Well, yeah, but... I mean, where’s the fun in that, huh?” Chuck smiled.

“Chuck? It’s, uh, it’s Sam Winchester. I’m guessing you know what this is about, so... just get here?”

He sighed. “Well, sis... duty calls,” he said before putting down his martini and vanishing.

---

“He’s not gonna show up,” Dean complained, pacing around the war room.

“It’s rude to assume things, Dean,” a voice said from behind the group of four. They all turned around to see the small and scrawny man, Dean’s fists clenching in anger.

“Get her out. Now,” the eldest Winchester said through gritted teeth.

Chuck tilted his head to the side, making it seem that he was thinking it through. “Hmm, no,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. “Did you really think that I would just let her out when I was the one who wanted her there in the first place?”

The room went silent for a minute. “The least you could do is tell us where her body is,” Sam suggested.

“Do any of you know why I wanted Y/N there?” He asked and got no response. “She got in the way. She’s not supposed to be a part of this story, boys.” He walked over to your corner, looking you dead in the eye. “She’s nothing.”

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head. “No, we all know that nothing happens without your say-so. Nothing happens without you wanting it to. So if you didn’t want her to be here... she wouldn’t be here.”

He turned back around to face the group. “You’re right. I’ve tried—I’ve succeeded at—killing her. But I gave my creations free will, and you two just keep bringing her back each and every time,” he explained. “So, I figured the only way to get rid of her for good would be if you didn’t remember her. But, I guess... nothing last forever.” He shrugged. “And besides, this is more fun.”

“Why couldn’t you of just killed me?” you asked, as if he could hear you. “Emptiness is better than this...anything is better than this.”

He turned back to you. “Because I can do whatever I want,” he said before turning back around to the others. “See you around.” He winked at them and vanished. 

“That son of a bitch!” Dean exclaimed, his fists clenched and his breaths short, as he paced the length of the map table. Sam was standing behind him, biting his nails in frustration while Cas and Rowena looked down to the ground, their faces sorrow.

Meanwhile, you were standing in the same spot, still staring where Chuck had stood mere seconds ago. And you were still standing there five minutes later when Sam came to talk to you.

“Y/N, I am so sorry,” Sam said. He stood behind you, his shoulders drooped and his eyes trained on the back of your head. 

You released a heavy sigh as you turned to face Sam, shaking your head. “Sam, I told you not to apologise for something you can’t control.”

“I know. I just... I’m sorry that this is happening to you,” he said, offering you a smile that you found yourself incapable of returning. He noticed this and sighed. “We will get you out of here. I promise.”

You shook your head again. “No you won’t.” Sam opened his mouth to speak but stopped when you started speaking again, “God himself doesn’t want me in the world. He put me here because he couldn’t get rid of me for good... I think–I think that maybe you guys should just move on, you know, just forget this happened.”

Sam frowned, suddenly angry. He shook his head. “No. We’re not gonna let this go. We will find a way to get you out of here. We’re gonna bring you home... God can shove it right up his ass.”

You smiled a bit, but still it didn’t reach your eyes. “Well, good luck then.”

Sam pulled you into a tight hug and planted a soft kiss on your scalp. You leaned into the touch and let your tears soak into his flannel. You didn’t really hug your brothers much but you missed the freedom of doing it whenever you wanted. You missed your brothers, you missed your friends, you missed your bed, you missed food, showers, different clothes. You missed basically everything.

You didn’t know how long you stood there for but it was a long time. There was a few times where Sam seemed uncomfortable and shifted on his feet, but he didn’t complain once. 

“How’s she doing?” Dean asked once Sam was back. His face grimaced as he braced himself for the update.

Sam sighed as he stood up. “Not good. She’s–she’s given up,” he said. Dean rubbed a hand over his face. “But this just sets us back a few steps.”

Cas nodded. “Yeah, we can still find a way to get her out.”

“I can contact some witches who knew Cynthia and see if they know anything,” Rowena spoke up. Sam looked over to her and nodded gratefully. She stood up and headed through to the maze of corridors.

“Alright,” Sam started. “Just because Chuck’s not going to tell us where her body is, doesn’t mean that we won’t be able to find it. It’s just gonna take a little extra work.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah,” he said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than agreeing. He nodded again, more sure. “Yeah. I mean, we have a freaking witch and an angel. We can do this.”

While Rowena was away, finding out what she could, and you were wallowing in self-pity, the boys formulated a plan on what they were going to do. They could get Rowena to do a spell to find out where your body was — a spell that she could probably do in her sleep, so it was no problem. The only trouble would come in when they needed to retrieve your body, since Cas couldn’t just zap them there. But they’d be damned if that stopped them. 

Sam meant what he said to you. He was going to get you out of that hell hole if it was the last thing he did. And he knew that was the same case with Dean and Cas as well. Rowena probably wouldn’t go as far as that, but Sam knew how much she like you, and that she would try her hardest to get you out.

When Rowena got back, they filled her in the plan and were happy to hear that she was all for it. She gathered the few things that she needed — a mirror and one of your belongings — and got to work. 

The boys gathered around her in the library, anxious on what were to happen. Even you stood up, leaning forward as far as you could, but all you could see was the side of Cas’ arm.

“Ostende mihi illum quem quaero,” Rowena spoke, her eyes glowing purple. She looked into the mirror, searching for any clue as to where your body was. After a few seconds, she found it. “Boys, she’s... she’s only in the next town over.”

“Wait, are you serious?” Sam asked, voicing the same scepticism that Dean and Cas felt. “Surely it’s not gonna be that easy.” 

“Well, then I say we stock up, be prepared for whatever’s waiting for us,” Dean said confidently. “She’s been in there for months, Sam. We owe her this.”

In agreement with what Dean said, Sam and Cas left the library to get ready, packing everything they could find; guns, knives, holy water, holy oil, salt, even goober dust. They had no idea what they were walking into, but they did know that they’d do anything to help you.

[when-they-write-stuff]

Hey, it's me again( sorry). I was wondering if you could write a fic where Allison, Lydia and Stiles are besties, and have 'Team Human nights' where they just basically sit around, paint each others nails and bitch about their boyfriends. And Derek comes in through Stiles window during one of these nights?

“Remember that one time Jackson forgot about date night?”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, sighing. Across from him, Allison threw back her head with a laugh and Lydia just sighed, focusing on her newly painted nails. She didn’t look upset though; just a little intrigued as she turned her hands over and tilted her head.

“Yeah. I still use it against him.”

See, if someone had told Stiles two years ago that he’d be spending almost every one of his Friday nights sitting in his bedroom with both Lydia Martin and Allison Argent without it being sexy in the future, Stiles might have thrown himself out a window. He didn’t think his younger-self would be disappointed exactly, but he might be a little peeved.

But right now, Stiles couldn’t imagine a better way to get the weekly gossip and get his nails painted. “I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again; what a douche. Tell me you at least kicked his ass. Just a little.”

“Oh, he slept on the couch for a week and watched the Notebook only for a month after that.”

“Good woman,” Stiles said, glancing down at Allison’s hand held lightly in his own, before finally drawing back with a grin. He was pretty sure when he’d first been corralled into “Team Human” nights and Lydia had informed him he was learning how to paint nails, he’d been less than inclined. But now he could say he had some serious skills, thank you very much.

He was basically a professional.

Allison glanced over his nails and smile. “I love it, Stiles.”

“Damn straight, you do.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Lydia said, gesturing to the other unopened polishes. “Your turn. Pick a color.”

“Blue,” Stiles said. Lydia raised a brow and he rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Blue’s just pretty.”

“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s it.”

Stiles huffed and tried to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about. But Allison was giving him a knowing look and Stiles hated everything sometimes, holding out his own hands as Lydia reached for them. The red-head pursed her lips at the times he’d obviously chewed them down to nubs and Allison passed around the Twizzlers, placing one between Stiles’s teeth when he opened his mouth.

“So,” Stiles said, chewing around the candy and raising an eyebrow in her direction. “Date night this weekend? Please tell me before Scott attempts to.”

The brown-haired girl blushed, lowering her eyes. Lydia looked smugly knowing and Stiles would have cackled if not for the candy.

“Or are you two skipping date night all together and just going straight for the—”

“Stiles. Really?”

“What?” He said, shooting Lydia an offended look while she gave him a chastising one. “Allison knows how to share certain things without oversharing, something that Scotty-boy still hasn’t figured out yet. Do you really want to know some of the things I have to listen too?”

Allison’s face was even brighter red and she kicked Stiles in the shin, making him yelp. Lydia scowled as he yanked backward, smudging her handiwork, and Stiles instantly winced.

“Oops.”

“Oops is right,” she said sharply. “Now I’m going to have to start over.”

He just grinned.

The first time Allison had brought up the idea of “Team Human” nights, Stiles had decided he was never going to do that, thank you very much. But apparently, he didn’t get a say in the decision because then there had been a knock on his door that Friday night, Lydia in the lead, and Stiles had learned long ago never to tell her no.

His dad had been… curious at first, to say the least. But then he’d just gone with it and if he sometimes snuck a slice of pizza when he thought no one was looking, would Stiles really say anything?

He probably could. Probably should. But he tended to let his dad think he got away with it. It kept him from asking too many questions. The man just seemed relieved Stiles wasn’t risking his life that particular day.

Lydia finished up with his left hand and Stiles sat back to admire her handiwork. He could call himself ‘good at it’ all he wanted these days, but Lydia was something else. There were two little red dots on two of his fingers and Stiles gave her a narrow-eyed look. Lydia only smirked.

“What?”

“You know very well what, devil woman.”

“Hm.”

Stiles just rolled his eyes and focused on letting her finish his right hand. Except she didn’t seem to be finished, only doing half before looking up at him again with a small smirk. 

“You know, we could go on a triple date if you’d ask a certain werewolf out.”

Stiles’s heart stopped but he tried to cover it up by making a face and pretending to gag. “What, Isaac? Yeah, no thanks. And Boyd already has Erica. She might rip my throat out if I ever made the moves. Unless it was the three of us. And that’s… no.”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “You know exactly who I’m talking about.”

“Nope, I don’t. Not at all.”

“Okay,” Allison interjected, not looking convinced at all. “So you’re just never going to tell Derek you’re in love with him then.”

“Oh my god, this just went from zero to one-hundred way too quickly!”

She only grinned at him and Lydia smirked too, ducking back down to his nails. But before she’d even touched paint to his index finger, there was the sound of the window being shoved up and Stiles yelped, shoving himself up and scrambling for a baseball bat. The things of nail polish spilled across his floor and he already knew that was going to be a bitch to clean out.

Allison apparently carried knives even to Team Human nights, because she looked like she was about to stab the intruder. But then Derek froze, slowly raising his hands, and Stiles could’ve had a heart attack right there.

“Dude, seriously?”

Derek’s eyes tracked around the room, lingering on Stiles’s half-done nails and the packages of snacks strewn across the floor. Then his gaze focused back on Stiles and Lydia made a small noise at the back of her throat, moving to grab Allison’s arm and tuck the girl’s knife away.

“Right. We’re just going to be going.”

Stiles blinked at her. “What? You’re leaving? Why?”

She gave him a pointed look and glanced back at Derek, and Stiles really hoped his heart didn’t skip as many beats as he thought it had. But then Derek’s face was turning red, so Stiles was pretty sure he was out of luck. And he was so getting Lydia back later.

Except then they were gone, bedroom door closing behind them, and Stiles wondered if he’d live that long. Because Derek was giving him a constipated look now and he could’ve sworn the man was growling at the back of his throat.

“So,” Stiles said, nudging at the Twizzlers packet with his foot. “Twizzler?”

“Stiles.”

“... Uh, yeah, dude?”

The man moved forward and Stiles stumbled back, yelping as his back rammed into the door. He wondered if he screamed for help, Lydia and Allison would hear him. But then he heard the faint sound of a car starting up and headlights shone through his window as they backed away, and Stiles realized he was all alone.

He was so getting his throat ripped out.

“Look, dude,” Stiles said, babbling now. “I don’t know how soon you came or what you heard, but I promise that was just them messing with me and it’s  Team Human night, dude! Why are you even here?”

Derek furrowed his brows, stopping a few feet away and glancing around the room. Stiles’s stomach did a flip and he straightened.

“You do remember it was Team Human night, right? You know, when you train the furries and we do each other’s nails while gossiping about said furry asses, and—”

Stiles promptly cut off as Derek’s eyes snapped back to him. The man glanced back at his nails, narrowing his eyes and Stiles chuckled weakly, lifting them up to wiggle through the air. Derek’s gaze zeroed in on the two red dots and he stepped forward, catching Stiles’s hand and turning it to get a better view. Stiles’s breaths stalled in his throat.

“That’s not what it looks like.”

Derek raised a brow. Stiles swallowed hard.

“Meaning it looks like nothing.”

“Huh.”

“Monosyllabic, great. Are we gonna have an actual conversation here, Sourwolf? Or are you just going to flash your eyes and be all scary Alpha-like and maybe leave me for dead or something?”

Derek looked at him like he was an idiot. Stiles nervously licked his lips.

“Because I don’t know what you heard, but—”

“Is it true?”

And nope, this is Stiles’s worst nightmare. This is why they had ‘Team Human’ nights all the way across town instead of at the loft while the others trained, thank you very much. Stiles did not need werewolves getting into his business and he sure as hell didn’t need Derek Hale telling him that he’d never fall for Stiles’s scrawny ass, ever.

This was his worst nightmare. And Stiles had no idea how he was getting out of it.

“Look, dude—”

“Is it true?”

“Do we really have to do this, Derek? Aren’t I already humiliated enough?”

Derek actually looked confused. For a moment, Stiles was terrified Derek hadn’t heard as much as he’d thought and he was just making an idiot out of himself, but then the man’s face cleared and Stiles realized he was dead all over again. Until he also realized how red the man’s ears were turning.

Stiles blinked a few times and Derek looked anywhere but his face. Carefully, Stiles tilted his head.

“Dude, what exactly did you hear?”

“Nothing.”

“I didn’t even hear you drive up. How long have you been outside my window?”

Derek’s face was the color of his Alpha eyes now and Stiles’s breaths lodged in his throat. He squawked and the man flinched. 

“Oh my god, you totally knew it was Team Human night!”

“I did not.”

“Liar! You’re such a Stalkerwolf!”

Derek gave him a flat look, but Stiles wasn’t finished. He pushed a finger into Derek’s chest and moved closer, making the man actually look scared.

“This better have been the first time.”

“I don’t stalk you, Stiles.”

“Oh, clearly not. You were what, just chilling outside my window until Allison and Lydia left?’

Derek didn’t say a word. Stiles’s heart skipped a beat again.

“You were!”

“Do we have to do this right now?”

“Do this? Do this? Oh my god, dude, that was totally a private conversation. Oh my god! I’m lining my window with mountain ash. Better yet, I’m lining my roof with it! No, no, my entire lawn! Stalkerwolf!”

Derek’s eyes had turned dark and dilated, and Stiles suddenly realized how closed he’d gotten. Mouth going dry, he started to step back, but then Derek caught him by the wrist. Stiles froze and stared at the floor.

“Derek, I—”

“Did you mean it?”

And wasn’t that a question Stiles never wanted to address again? He wondered if he ran fast enough, he could make it to his jeep and leave before Derek stopped him. But then the hand left his wrist and tipped up his chin, and those thoughts were gone again.

“Stiles—”

“Yes, you Stupidwolf, I meant it. I’ve been in love with you ever since I was an idiot seventeen-year-old and for some reason, green eyes and strawberry blonde hair didn’t make me swoon anymore. I’ve been in love with you for years. So there! Are you happy now?”

Stiles could’ve sworn Derek’s lips twitched, which totally wasn’t fair because he wasn’t trying to be funny, dammit. But then Derek’s eyes were red and Stiles might have forgotten to breathe, and the man was definitely smirking now.

Which was also not fair.

“I am,” Derek said, eyes searching Stiles’s face. “Happy now.”

Nope, not fair at all.

Stiles would like to say that he’d expected nails, gossip, and snacks tonight. Most certainly not a certain Sourwolf. Most certainly not a certain Sourwolf getting all up and personal with the token human, Stiles Stilinski. He’d expected movies and maybe a bit of trash talking. Not Derek Hale. Never Derek Hale.

But then when the asshole kissed him, Stiles thought maybe he could make due. 

Yeah, he could do that.

- -

Okay, this is so late (and never be sorry, my friend, I adore seeing you in my inbox!!) but I had so much fun with this one. I’m trying to clean out the old inbox and I was so excited to write this prompt!

(if you enjoy my writing, consider supporting your student writer? You can also request a prompt if you’d like!). https://ko-fi.com/rh27writer

[yamithediaperdork]

Midnight Stroll (Soul eater)

Midnight stroll

It was a bright star and moon filled night out, something that a certain weapon wasn't all that happy with as he made his way toward the park in death city. When he'd originally planned this all out it had been with the understanding of a cloudy night to help him hide a little better and now that plan had gone to hell. Of course the fact he was even going to enact his plan outside meant that our hero wanted to be seen but still. who's our hero and whats the plan you may be asking? The Hero of course was Soul, weapon extorinair and always hungry for well, souls.And his plan was to engage in his bi monthly diaper waddle of shame. You see Soul wasn't like most boys his age who were off chasing girls and being all manly. his idea of a ideal date would be getting spanked silly, diapered and teased till he pooped himself and then being put to bed in a crib without a diaper change.  As you might expect, this made his dating options slim to none so he just handled his babying himself. Granted there had been a close call or two when his roommate Black Star had walked in while he was diapered but Soul had manged to get under his blankets before being seen.

It was that close call that had soul decide to take his diaper games public, though he really only went out around midnight, and only did a quick little walk (or waddle if you prefer) in a area where not many people were up/knew him. before he had done massive diapers under shorts, and a diaper and t-shirt but tonight's main event so to speak would be his most daring outfit yet, and this time he wasn't going to carry his big boy clothes in a back pack with him. This time he was going to leave them in the public bathroom at the park so he'd have no real way of wussing out and hiding in a alley, scrambling to get pants on over his diapers. Just the thought of how MUCH of a big dumb stupid baby he was going to be had him almost skipping as he made his way into the park and made a B line for the bathrooms.

In the bathroom stall Soul paused and caught his breath, mentally psyching himself up for what he was going to do  There was no two ways about it, while the THOUGHT of what he was going to do had him rock hard and squirming like crazy as he leaked into his Garfield briefs, he KNEW just how bad this could be if he was caught. Just picturing Maka or Death or really ANY of his friends finding out what a big baby he was had him whimpering even if he was totally ready to have a 'accident' if he kept it up. Still, he hadn't blown a ton of money to order these items in and NOT use them, and nothing ventured nothing gained. or some bullshit like that. In any case, he started to strip.

Walking out of the bathroom with a waddle in his step, Soul was crimson faced but grinning like a fool as he checked out his reflection in the mirror. looking back at him was a young man, in thick massive nursery print diapers that forced his legs apart and would be more then up for the challenge of holding ANY messes the so called big boy could make. On his feet gone were the sneakers and instead was a pair of white baby booties in his size with little silver stars decorating them. His scrawny chest was covered with a plastic bib, white with a silver trim and in silver letters proclaimed soul to be a 'messy eater.' In his mouth bobbing in and out, and attached to a string around Soul's neck was a white and silver Pacifier, with a extra large nipple on it so his whole mouth was filled and it was already making him drool like the big baby he was. the final piece of his new look was a oversized white and silver baby bonnet to A) help him look even more silly and B) help help his identity. 'You, are SUCH a baby!' he thought to himself, squirming and crinkling as he wiggled his hips. Giggling like crazy he waddled back over to the stall and zipped up the book bag with all his big boy stuff in it and hung it on the inside door hook, the closed the stalls from the outside. Sure anyone who pushed on the door would see no one was in there buttt it wasn't like the place was exactly hopping with a bunch of people so Soul was sure it would be ok.

the first few steps into the wide open area of the park was the most nerve wracking, there was NO where to dodge and try and hide once he walked more then five steps away from the bathroom and Soul felt like at any second everyone and their uncle was going to pop outta nowhere and point and laugh at him. 'Mental note..next time toke up first.' he thought, squirming and his belly full of butterflies as he waddle over toward the play structure. Plopping his butt down in one of the swings (and barley fitting) he looked over at the baby seat swing with want in his eyes but if his fat diaper butt could barely fit in a normal swing, they'd have to call someone to cut him free out of one of those. Swinging back and forth a little he closed his eyes and pretended that it was the middle of the day, and a group of kids were all gathered around pointing and laughing at him. 'oh nooo! they're all being sooo mean to widdle meee! where my mommy and da-' Soul was thinking , but with his eyes closed and getting carried away he didn't notice that the slick plastic of his diapers had been sliding on the seat and suddenly he fell off the back of the swing. '...owwwwww..' he whined mentally, looking up at the sky. Since clearly swings and his diapers were going to work out on this fine evening, Soul after picking himself up moved on towards the slide. Climbing on the metal ladder with it being somewhat narrow and his diaper so bulky was a little trickier then he'd thought it would be and his foot slipped more then once as he made his way up. 'I swear, if I hurt myself AGAIN on playground equipment I'm just gonna bring a bucket and sand shovel next time and play in the sand box.' Soul thought dryly. the fact that he was apparently too much of a baby to use this stuff meant for little kids though DID make him feel nice and babyish and he was all grins as he got to the top of the slide and started to come down..At least till the static cling and the bulk of the diaper and the smallish sides of the slide meant while he didn't get stuck, he got one hell of a diaper wedgie. 'Anddd I think I'm done with the playground.' Soul thought sheepishly, trying to pick his diapers out of his ass crack.

The next part of his little planned fun was a little bit more risky then just playing on the playground. the playground had been close enough to the bathroom that he could of dashed back in as needed, but now as he tapped his chin and looked in different direction, he was going to go and walk for a block in the city on one of those directions. He wasn't too worried about being jumped or attack since well, diapers or no diapers he was a fucking weapon, but still people seeing him, pointing and laughing, maybe even taking pictures.... It was everything he dreaded and everything he wanted and it didn't take long for any common sense to be drowned out and he picked the southern route, meaning a good 6 minutes of waddling just in the park before even hitting the streets. His nipples stiff under his baby bib, Soul took one last look back at the park, then waddled out into the city.

as fate would have it, the path that Soul took actually went by a new all night gay bar, something he didn't realize till he turned a corner and there was a group of 5 well muscled men out having a smoke. The sight made him freeze in his tracks which was bad because he was under a street lamp at the time and while he to unfreeze and back track, he got noticed. "What the hell.." Came a drunken voice. "Oh my god! Tell me I'm actually seeing this and it's not just the phantom blast shots I've been pounding!" "Pffftt..it's a little diaper boy!" "You lost little boy? come sit with uncle." Anther one called and patted his lap. "Heh, think they'd wipe our bar tab clean if we brought him inside?" The last one asked. Soul's paci was moving in and out of his mouth BIG time now as he unfroze, but was squirming like crazy as a deep red blush covered his face. the men got up and started to walk over, smirking, smiling and one of them was pulling his cell phone out! "A-Ah! N-No pictures please!" Soul squeaked out, letting the paci fall out of his mouth and trying to cover his face. "heh..Cutie offer cutie. turn around and wiggle that cute butt of yours for us and there will be no FACE pictures." Cell phone said. A huge whine came out of soul, but he had to admit this was exactly that kind of attention he had humped stuffies into oblivion thinking about. It wasn't like he was going to be able to outrun the guys even if they were clearly wasted with the massive diaper between his legs and he briefly thought about maybe just switching to pull ups for next time so he could take off easier if this sorta thing happened again. Banishing THAT thought from his mind he did a half turn so his pampered butt was facing the drunks and then he started to shake it back and forth and getting into it, reached back and slapped it a couple of times. "Oh, somebodies a naughty baby huh? Does your daddy and mommy know where you are?" "hehehe Nope~! And.." Soul paused, the attention and the feeling of all of this short circuiting any restraint. "And it's just my daddy. We live together but he doesn't know what a dumb diaper bitch I am and How much I love being a pamper filling humiliation junkie~" "..well I'm hard." came a voice he recognized as cell phones. Soul giggled and wagged a finger back and forth. "ah ah ah, Sorry Uncles..This diaper boy is a official virgin for life so I can't help you with that! No sex for me ever, just poopie diapers and lots of teasing!" Soul giggled, then swatted his butt again and rubbed the front of his diapers. "Oh man.. no one is ever going to believe this..even with the pictures." "I'm seeing it with my own two eyes and -I- can't." Soul giggled again but then his tummy gurgled and grumbled, apparently his greasy supper wanted to make a appearance. "..wait..is he going to.." One of the guys asked. Not having to look at them, Soul found himself more daring then ever and popped a squat, rubbing his tummy. "Ohhh nooo! the big dumb BABY has to go boom boom!" he whined in babyish tone, and dared a look over his shoulder. and then paled. the original five had turned into 15 men watching him and smirking and suddenly the idea of loading his diapers in front of such a big crowd didn't seem like such a good idea. "A-Ah on second thought.." He squeaked. "Aww come on, don't be a cock tease! you promised us a show!" a guy wearing a bandana and sunglasses at night protested. "I..But..This is too many..and.." Soul whined and squirmed, his guts churning and a muffled fart coming out of him. "...Ok guys we're scaring the baby. phones away, no one record little soul's accident." Came the voice of one of the original five and Soul relaxed for a second..then turned around, letting out a massive poot and eyes wide. "W-Wait you know m-my name!?!" He practically shrieked. "uh..Yeah. wasssss I not suppose to? you're kinda famous in town." the guy said rubbing the back of his head. "..I'm going to run away now." Soul said, voice going faint. He made it all of five steps in his effort to get away, over the protest of his crowd of 'fans' when he was forced to hunch over and pop a squat again. Those who watched the show would later on agree while the visual effect of watching a deadly weapon helplessly blort out his diaper so it was sagging and discolored was hawt..they could of done without the smell. Still when Soul had dropped to his knees and pounded a fist on the street, while crying out that he was making cum cums, that helped them put up with the stink.

The waddle back to the park took much longer, though with the heavy load in his diaper making him waddle worse then before and his legs weak from the force of his orgasm it wasn't that shocking. Several times he had to pause and rest against a lamppost, and just suck on his paci, having semi orgasmic after shocks as he thought about what he had just done. 'Well, Ones thing for sure. that's to sure fuel my stuffie humping for at least half a year.' He thought and giggled a little. Finally making his way back to the bathroom, and having to wave away flies now, soul had let the paci fall from his mouth as he was holding his nose. "guh, I'm fucking rotten. no more greasy joeys fried chili-dogs for me." He muttered softly and spotted his stall. and froze. because it was wide open. "Ohhh no. no no no.." Soul said, gulping and a shaky smile on his face. "M-My Book bag is GOING to be there. it's going to be there. it's going to be there." it became a mantra as he took one step at a time, a feeling of weakness washing over him. "it's going to be there. it's..it's.." Soul mewed as he made it and looked, tears welling up in his eyes. "It's..Not here..But..my house key was in there...I..I have to waddle home..In..In a poopie diaper..and..And get Black star to let me in.." the big baby went silent as it sunk in and then feel to his knees crying out and sobbing even as a second powerful orgasm wracked though his body.

Black star was less then pleased as the doorbell wouldn't stop. he'd had more then a few drinks before going to bed and shouted for soul to get the fucking door, but of course the white haired bastard was ignoring him. 'I swear..after I answer the door if he's still asleep it's hand in warm water time.' Black thought. in just his white boxers with little black stars all over it (Yes, he was THAT vain) he made his way down to the front door. Modesty wasn't really a big thing for him and to be fair with how late it was fuck whoever was knocking on the door and ringing the door bell, they could see him in his undies. Not bothering to use the peephole first to see who it was, Black Star just opened the door and started to snarl. "What do you fucking..want..Uh..soul?" he roared, then went from a pissed off face, to a confused one, then smirking. "Oh. My. God." Soul whined and blushed, squirming back and forth. "C-Can you just move and let me in already?" the big baby whined. "Bwhahahaha! I knew it! Maka and everyone else said I was crazy But I fucking knew it! I know that was a diaper I saw you in the other day!" Black star crowed, then paused and wrinkled his nose. "wait..is that smell coming from you?" "N-No! I mean..yes, but uh..I just..stepped in some dog crap! yeah! that's it an-" Soul tried to say, but Black star not only tugged him into the house, but turned him around and planted his palm on the massive mess in the back of soul's diapered, making the big babies eyes roll in his head. "You did! you totally fudged yourself! Oh man!" Black star laughed, and then kept patting the poor weapons droopy pampers. "I think we need to have a nice long talk about how things are going to change around here, don't you?" Black Star asked and smirked. "I..I Uh..Ohh.." the weapon mewed and spread his legs to allow Star a easier time of smushing his mush tush. "though first and foremost, the first thing that needs to be changed is your stinky diaper butt..little boy." Black star said and then kissed soul's cheek. As his third orgasm in under a hour wracked his body, soul couldn't help but think that maybe he should of just stayed in tonight and streamed a movie.

The end

[japiform]

Helmsman: Wake up somewhere new

Grand: You are doing more paperwork, fuckin kill you with a culling fork. More and more and more and you satisfy yourself by reading one, telling the sleeping psion the joke that is these assholes requesting aid, and write 'Fuck Off' in big spiky letters across the whole thing. That goes in the Done pile. Next paper, type a moment to research what the fuck they're even talking about, because you stopped hiring motherfuckers to know more details than you when they kept fucking dying or leaving. Getting exiled. Whatever.

Your typing hand leaves the husktop to run over the fuzz of the psion's warm fragile skull while you read some more shit, strike out some more shit, and sigh. "Motherfuck, I need a vacation," you mutter, and it's a joke because this is about as close as you GET to a damn vacation, but not a joke funny enough for you to laugh. You look up round the room, all the medicullers absent save the one you successfully disarmed (okay, that one you'll laugh at), and he's dead the fuck asleep. Everything's in white, save the floor which is a multihued stain down to the drain in the center of the room, though it is mostly subtle variations of purple. Not a lot of offcolor fucks that you consider WORTHY of gettin tended to, after all.

This helm don't know how lucky he has it.

Helmsman: Stirring, your hornbeds crackle with power as the sedatives start wearing off. The dull, fullbody pain makes you groan under your breath and squinch your eyes tight, before it fades and you can settle again. 

It occurs to you that you're being touched, but you don't sense any animosity from it, which is strange and new. Along with this feeling of not-bad is the voice you recognize. The one that makes you feel. Not-bad. 

Your blue eye creaks open to survey your surroundings, and you grimace at the white, zapping the troll next to you to get their attention. 

"Hey. Can'ya turn off th'lights? Ssbright." Grumble.

Grand: The crackling of his horns takes a moment to register, the groan less so. You finish writing Fuck Off on this next illustrious waste of tree pulp, running your off hand down his nug til you get to the base of it before you withdraw--Just in time to get zapped. You let out a curse that's actually just a verse of your most holy of texts (elixirs 5:18; pour one out for you, your blood is paint yet to be spilled), and bare your teeth at him, eyes flashing with menace. 

Oh. He's just waking up. 

“Poor motherfucker," you croon, and it's a mocking tone that you speak in. But what the fuck ever, you can stand for a break. You turn off the lamp closest to him, shut your husktop with a finite click, and captchalogue the stack of important papers that you've filled out. ... Oh, and the not done ones too, if for no other reason than state secrets or whatever the fuck.

Helmsman: "Thenks." Your voice is rough from both overuse and underuse, and you clear your throat a few times before swallowing a little bit of blood. Gross.

Blinking your eyes open, you take a better look at the room around you, and then up at the troll looming over you.

"Oh sshit." Oh shit is right, because if you aren't mistaken, that's the fucking Grand Highblood. In the flesh.

"Sso. Are you the personification of the Angel of Death, or am I hallucinating?"

Grand: "You fuckin flatter me," you say, batting your lashes a bit. "Either that, or you're hallucinatin, cuz I ain't been called angelic in a while." Your hands are to yourself, but you know the sound of a fucked up voice when you hear one. You wonder if you'll have to shove a tube in his mouth to get him to take somethin from you, or if he'll take it just to make you stop botherin him.

... But you also take the chance to look him over. Mostly just his face, which has the capacity for expression now, and is therefore finally actually interesting. "So surprised to see me? I told you I'd help."

Helmsman: You look confused, and a bit upset, like you'd had a present ripped away from you. "Then... I'm not dead." Thin eyebrows furrow and you attempt to sit up, which is hard when your arms feel invisible. After a bit of struggle, you flop back down heavily, hissing at the pain. The light in your eyes seems to pulse, like you're trying to focus. "The- the data..?"

Grand: "Not a fuckin clue." This is definitely about to get spicy, and you don't grin. But you want to. You want to rub your 'i told you so' in his moronic fucking face. "You ain't dead. You're limbless and on my ship, after you tried to fire up a single fuckin cannon and immediately fainted. Whether you managed ta finish transmittin your entire self into the space between helms, i ain't got an iota of an idea. But I told you that you didn't have to shoot me, that i would wait for you to get your business done. So I don't know that I feel like that's my problem."

Helmsman: "Limbless." Yeah, that explains why your arms feel invisible. You failed. After everything you did.

After all that pain and hard work just for it to fail. You're silent as you process this, before your eyes grow damp. You can't even wipe the frustrated tears away, so you curl away from the clown so you can cry with a little bit of fucking dignity.

God your life goddamn SUCKS. The sobs hurt as they rip out of you but you can't make them stop, thin frame heaving. He should have let you die. You shouldn't have told him anything. God you're so stupid!

Grand: ... Oh.

You expected this motherfucker to fight. To flare up bright, like you saw he could do in the ship, like you know he could do as a ship. The fight wouldn't do much good, him limbless and you your powerful, merciless self, but you woulda had fun trying to take him out without takin him all the way out.

You look over him, crying, weeping and just barely able to turn away from you, and you feel

something.

Fuck knows what.

"For fucks sake, we doin this shit?" you snap, and you think it should have come out a little harsher, a little louder. Or maybe you should be laughing, perhaps. No motherfucker would be surprised to hear you laugh.

"Like I ain't the most powerful motherfucker this side of the damned universe. Where the shit are your files or what the fuck ever."

Helmsman: Shaking your head, you laugh through the tears, a mirthless, harsh noise. "Where the fuck do you think they are?"

Crying is such a relief, though. Like you finally can expell all the horrid feelings you've been holding close to your chest for so long. You've been ripped from your ship, sanitized, bundled up all careful in a medical cot, what more do you need to hide? What would it possibly change?

"I was always doomed. What difference does it make now."

Grand: You grit your teeth at that unrighteous sound, but what the fuck is it you can do? Where the fuck indeed. You keep your helms and your files separate, at the rate you burn through them, and why the fuck wouldn't you? But you've never thought about the logistics of how the fuck one would store themselves, never thought about how it wouldn't be in ship storage unless it was some place the fish bitch could see.

For a second, from the way you have trouble breathing, and from the way your pump aches, you think you're finally kicking it. It's only a breath, only a beat, but still enough to get your fronds all wound the fuck up in the soft silk of the hospital bed. Still enough to have you reeling.

"Well. Guess you're gonna have to stay lively long enough ta write your fuckin memoirs, ain't ya?" you say, and it's quiet, and not all that funny, and you don't know what the hell is going on. "So, let's see to that."

Helmsman: You half feel vindicated from seeing that conflicted look on GHB's features, but the other half of you feels really bad. The guy went out of his way to save your useless life, used his resources, time, and energy to pluck you specifically from death's door and sit next to you.

Memoirs he says, like that isn't a ridiculous statement to make this late in the game. How are you gonna write them without arms, you wonder. It makes you laugh again, and this time it feels better to laugh. Once the giggles have settled down, you look at the troll next to you, really look at him, yellow streaks run down your cheeks and staining the white pillow under you.

"You've been here the whole time, right?"

Grand: There you all in all your glory, thousands of sweeps old and not quite so young looking as you were when you first caught this motherfucker, wearing what amounts to your casual clothes and the tie you wear when you're feeling like you should get yourself in the head for business. Your hair has grey, your paint has a fine line or two in it, but you're still an unholy terror when you want to be, which is still fucking most of the time. 

Your hands unfist in the covers, and you roll your eyes at him, recline in the chair you stole from your office because fuck if you're gonna use a visitor's chair, you're the fucking king. "Nah, motherfucker, I got shit to do other than tend to your pathetic ass." Your ankles cross and you look up at the ceiling, casual as you fucking please. "But I been here often enough. When I ain't preachin or doin other holy shit. Medicullers just ain't made like they used to be, and some don't know how to ask first instead of puttin their knives where they ain't wanted. Can't have them makin that mistake when I went through all the trouble to nab your scrawny ass, can I?"

Helmsman: "Well. Thanks, I guess. You've got your reasons I don't doubt, but." You avert your eyes, not that he can tell. "It was better than being alone."

Okay you need to sit up Now. Cracking your neck, you test your reach with your psionics, the energy roving over the whole room as you manually adjust the power. Ugh, that feels weird. It takes a negligible amount of thought to arrange yourself a bit more upright against the pillow, and it does wonders making you feel less like you're at the mercy of circumstance. 

"... You haven't changed a bit, huh you shitty old man."

Grand: You roll that thought around your head, feel it shifting shit behind your eyes. It was better than being alone, he said. Ain't that a terrible weakness of his, that dislike of being alone? Feels like the fucking point of a wriggler's afternoon special, soft and sweet and weak as it is. Pathetic, is what it is. 

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, watch him sit himself up with power that you still don't trust not to be pressed into the flesh of you, though the thrill keeps you from locking it away tight with something or another, and you are a little impressed that he even knows how to use those when he's spent so long being sucked dry of em.

"Course I've changed. I think I've gotten taller. Definitely gotten older. I think I've killed a few more thousands of fuckers, though I might be off by a decimal point or some shit. You gotta be more specific, motherfucker, if you want to get a particular answer."

Helmsman; Scoff. "It was rhetorical, fuckhead." The residual psionics definitely is filling the air with static, and now that you've tapped into them it's increasingly hard to tamp down on them. Guess you're going to be fizzing like a carbonated beverage for the next little while. 

"I do have some questions for you though."

Grand: You bark out a laugh, as your head fills with static and your hair puffs up faintly like an angry cat. You're going to have to rub him down with fuckin drier sheets or some shit, just to get some peace and not have your papers stickin to you. 

"What the fuck else have we got to do, bitch? Go on, ask."

Helmsman: You chew on your lower lip as you think of the right way to word it. "Does Survivor know I'm alive?"

Grand: "Yep," you pop the word sharp, rocking back on your heels and two legs of the chair. More throne than chair, really.

Helmsman: Would be a shame if he were to fall backwards and hurt himself... Someone's gotta teach this guy not to lean on the back feet of chairs. He could hurt himself. What a shame. 

The front two legs slam back onto the floor, and you sneer at him. "The last thing I need is for you to suffer some kind of concussion right now."

Grand: You yelp, an unseemly noise, as your chair is forced groundways, making you a six legged shape once more. "My skull is thicker than that, for messiahs motherfuckin sake, ask your damn questions instead of fussin over my old ass, you motherfuckin limbless horror."

Helmsman: “It'd just be inconvenient, is what I'm saying. Like I'd bother fussing over you, nightmare fuel." 

This fucking guy. You shut your eyes, exhaustion hitting you like a truck all of a sudden. "Will I see her anytime soon or am I just gonna be stuck in this glass bottle forever so you can keep prodding me with sticks?"

Grand: Nightmare fuel. You like that, and it makes you chuckle different, a low bass rumble in your chest. 

"You'll see her when she comes up with a plan that her and blue think will keep me from wreckin their shit, and as soon as you can get jostled without openin up every scab you got from nose to nook, which believe me, are plentiful.. And maybe a little longer than that, dependin on your amusement ta annoyance ratios. Don't go tryinna manipulate em to your wantin, cuz I ain't gonna tell you which keeps you here longer."

Helmsman: "I'm going to be honest with you: I'm a doer not a schemer. I'd pinky promise you, but, well..." 

Shrug. 

"As long as I get to see her again." You forgot what it was like to yearn for someone, but right now it's all you can take to be away from Bastet. You were being honest earlier when you admitted you don't know how to be alone anymore.

Grand: You hear that, and you tip back in your chair again, arms crossed behind your head, and you smile. Fuck yes. "Ain't that sweet," you chirr, and it could be nice if it was anyone other than you. But you are, as he said, nightmare fuel, and you ain't particularly inclined to be anything else. 

"Give it a week or two. A perigee, tops. You'll get where you wanna be. Think you can wait that long, motherfucker?"

Helmsman: "Only been waiting the majority of my life." Sinking back into the thin blanket. "If you're going to stick around, do it goddamn quietly, for fucks' sake." 

You're starting to feel lightheaded, and want to sleep now.

Grand: A snort. "And here I thought you liked my company. You'll tolerate it or you won't, and it ain't my problem either way." 

Still, when he nestles himself down, you draw the blanket up past his damaged shoulders so he don't catch chill and kill himself on something nothin much at all. And you go ahead and take off your business garb (the polkadot tie you wear when you're deep in the shit creek that is your backed up paperwork), twirling it around your finger before you captchalogue it. "Just fuckin sleep, you're gonna need it."

Helmsman: “Don't need your permission." You bite back, already fading off into dreamland. Geez, being a sassy sourpuss takes a lot of energy.

Grand: He falls asleep to the low rumble of your laugh at his expense, amusement in the face of his fucking spite. Once he's out, you realize you forgot to make him drink, and decide you'll get on with it when he's a little more conscious. No point forcing him if he's not around to make you work for it, is there? 

You don't turn on the light for a good hour or so. You just sit back in your throne, the back legs of it worn away from just such play, and you think. And you speak a few more times, half thoughts that you don't bother to explain cuz he ain't around to ask. But mostly, you just think.

[anothersillyfanblog]

Earth On Hell

This is my Sanders Sides gift for @marsupials-of-mars for @sanderssidesgiftxchange!!! Basically all the sides are demons, hanging out in hell, but one of them (wonder who) is a teeny bit more chaotic than the others. (P.s I am gonna post on ao3 in a few days as well btw.)  Btw I’m not great at tags so mega apologies if it still slipped through sorry.

Hell.

Lunch breaks round here weren’t boring- there was plenty to see and do in hell- it had just kind of reached a point for Janus where most of it had already been done. Hence why, no matter what his colleagues in the eighth circle said, there was something interesting about sitting down with this chatty little demon and watching the human flesh blister.

“Y’know what I think?” the younger demon, Remus, casually asked. Janus sighed. “I try not to.” “I think that everyone who ends up here is dumb.” He tossed a rat into his mouth “All you gotta do is act nice and suck up to the big daddy in the clouds- that’s it! Easier than boiling babies!” “No,” Janus raised his eyebrows. “Because it’s based on the nature of your soul not what you do.”

“Well that ain’t fair! What if you can’t HELP dreaming of torture and carving hearts into carcases (or whatever these idiots got in here for), like it’s in your pretty little head from day uno?” He wagged his finger at Janus. “They could never do anything wrong in their entire life but get sent here for naughty thinking… seems a lil shitty to me.” “Well apparently they can ‘repent their sins and get eternal salvation’.” Janus revelled in the other guys’ confusion for a moment. “Say sorry a lot and it’ll be ok.” “Ohhhhhhhhhhh right. Oh yeah ok.” Remus nodded. “Seems a bit suspicious, are you sure that’s a thing?”

A couple of screams got louder, and Janus turned to see a scrawny horned demon carrying a bucket and biting his lip. He had his arms comically wrapped all the way round it- an ugly neon yellow bucket with a ‘warning’ label (because hell needs health and safety standards)- and he was edging towards a nearby cliff.

“Hey Virge!” Remus called out “What’cha doin?” “I…” the horned demon tipped the bucket over the precipice as the screams intensified “…am adding a couple… of new souls… to the… whirlwind.” “Come get lunch, Virgil! It’s rat day!” he grinned, holding up a rodent “Also didn’t Pat tell you to do that like, a week ago?” “Yes but I’m also a dumb bitch.” Virgil sat down next to Remus. “Who’s this?” he glanced awkwardly at Janus. “I-” “HE’S my friend from the EIGHTH FUCKING CIRCLE!!!” Remus interrupted. “That not being the eighth circle of fucking, though it might well be…” “It’s not.” Janus clarified. “Yeah, I didn’t think it was.” Virgil smiled “I’m Virgil. I work with him under Patton? Second circle so-to-speak.” “Oh yeah I know the guy.”

Patton was the overseer for a lot of things in the lower levels. Not really a specific tier, or a specific expertise, but if you spent any time in one-five then you at least saw him. Most people ‘above’ him were aware of him in a general sense. Janus had met him twice? Three times? Yeah, if you counted bumping shoulders at the river Styx that one time, then it was three.

It made sense that Remus and Virgil worked for Patton- a lot of the younger demons did these days.

“UGH doesn’t everyone?” Remus whined “He is annoying!” “He’s your boss.” Janus observed. “Yes, and he’s annoying! I say we, I dunno, set fire to his ass or something…” Virgil shrunk into his seat “He’s our boss? Also he isn’t in charge of everyone, he has a boss right…” “Yeah, but uh…” Remus clicked his fingers “We were saying weren’t we?” he looked at Janus. “No. Whatever you think we were saying, we weren’t.” “People shouldn’t get here for wanting to do crimes!” he clapped his hands “I think we should break everyone out of hell.”

One week later: Hell

Work hours, naturally. Janus was trying to process new souls but honestly there was no signal and his tablet just wasn’t working.

“And they say eighth circle is an enviable job…” he tapped the screen “I- I’ll be with you in a moment, sorry about this.” He said to the guy in line to be thrown into the pit. “No, no, take your time.”

Finally, the sound of footsteps approaching! Janus looked up and smiled. “Ah, the tech guy! Yeah, there’s no service on this, so if you could-”

“Where’s Remus?” Janus smiled a little “Excuse me?” “Which circle can Remus be found in?” the tech guy kept his face stern (if he was the tech guy) “I know you know him.” “I’m working right now, or trying to, so come back when I’m not and then we can talk.”

The tech guy ripped the tablet out of Janus’ hands.

“Where can Remus be found?” “He isn’t an important demon-” “Lower tiers…” “Not what I mean, I meant you shouldn’t need him.” “But I do.” “Why?” “Irrelevant, just tell me where he is located.” “Well forgive me for thinking you’re going to hurt him, but I think you’re- you know- going to hurt him.” “Falseh- it’s inconsequential, I must find him.” Janus paused. “Fix my tablet, please. I believe you.”

The tech guy looked momentarily confused before realising what Janus meant and doing so. “Second circle, every time I’ve seen him.” Janus said “Is… is he in trouble?”

“Not with me, negative. I do not have the influence to get many people into trouble. As for the future…” he sighed “I would advise you to keep your distance from him, though that’s my observation.” He left off towards the exit of the tier.

Janus grimaced, looking at his now-working tablet.

“If it’s any consolation, it probably won’t affect you.” The guy in line said, making Janus jump in surprise. “Shit! I need to get all you processed, I am gonna get in trouble.” He smiled at the guy who now frowned. “Okay name and age at time of death…”

One month later: Hell

“Where’s-” “Remus?” Patton interrupted. “we’re dealing with it.” Janus chuckled “Will anyone down here actually let me finish a sentence?” “Of course, my apologies- what were you going to say?” “Where is Virgil?” he smirked. “He works in your general bracket, right?”

Patton breathed in sharply. No one had seen Virgil since Remus had started (conveniently) quietening down, and Janus knew it. Everybody knew it. His work tallies were still placed in- by who, nobody knew- but the second circle was widely lacking in Virgil.

“He’s doing some work on…” Patton’s eyes darted round rapidly “admin. He’s working on potential field experience up there, needs to put in the admin first.”

Janus raised his eyebrows, looking up towards the Earth. “The thing is, Pat, I’m Eighth circle. I specialize in fraud- you know what that is?” Patton nodded. “Deceit, Patton, lies. And every day suave fuckers queue up trying to tell me why I have ‘the wrong circle’ or why ‘they should get special treatment’ and guess what, Patton? It’s always bullshit.”

He stared straight at the other demon. “I have been doing this for too damn long to not have the fucking right to tear the throat of anyone, ANYONE, who dares to be as lousy as you at lying to me. So don’t ever tell me that Virgil is doing admin, FUCKING ADMIN, because no one here will believe- or miss- you.” He sighed. “Let’s start again. Where’s Virgil?”

Patton swallowed “I…”

“Do you not know?” Janus asked, “This will go a lot better for you if you just admit that you don’t know.” Patton shook his head “Not exactly, no.” he whispered, “We’re not sure where he is.” “Not sure or don’t know?” “We know he’s in hell… we know that, we’re aware of him but not where.” Janus pinched his forehead “Okay so out of all the nine circles of hell, you have no clue, none. Lovely.” “If Remus would co-operate…” Patton muttered. “If I would what now?”

Ah yes, Remus. Walking cheerily towards them, smile slightly wider than ever, living his best life. Of course it was most likely that he had been questioned on Virgil’s whereabouts, given their activities during the past month-or-so, but Remus had decided to ‘calm down’ now and had ‘no idea about anything that anyone was doing’. Or so he had said to Janus.

“Patton! You already know I told ya everything about Virge, didn’t I?” he grinned. “Of course, don’t doubt it.” Patton said, as if he were lecturing a child. “And you got all your silly little friends to stand down which was very good of you.” Remus clapped his hands. “Yes! I did that!” “BUT!” Patton wagged his finger “I think you may have forgotten places that Virgil could be- or things you knew about Virgil.” Remus gasped in shock “Oh no!” “We want to find him, you want to find him. Let’s do this together please.” Patton nodded towards Janus. “Isn’t that right?” “Huh?” Janus smirked “Oh yes, working together. Of course.” Patton smiled again, then turned to leave.

Remus groaned “Ugh, what an annoying piece of poop! Wanna feed him to a pack of rampaging squirrels!” “Where’s Virgil?” “Up your butt!” Remus laughed, “Just kidding, don’t check, I have no idea.” Janus nearly prayed out of sheer frustration. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Remus, unholy shit.” “Okay, okay!” he giggled. “So I might know… but I can’t tell you.” “Why?” Janus asked, confused, “You think I’m going to run to Patton?” Remus looked down “Well, Logan says you shouldn’t be involved in-”

“You’re still working with Logan? You said you’d told them to stand down…” Remus chuckled “You believe that?” “Well, no,” Janus admitted, “But I…what the fuck are you planning?” “Eh, just a little bit of trouble…” “What you did already was a ‘little bit of trouble’- hell, it got your supervisors’ attention, so actually it was kinda a bit more than that.” Janus explained. “I made a group?” “A militia.” Remus threw his arms up “Well, we barely did anything! Pat WAY overreacted!” “Not… if you’re actually planning something he didn’t.” “So you are on his side?”

“I…” Janus looked away. “I don’t want this going south. For you, Virge, us. That’s the bargain you make when you leave heaven, to look out for you and yours. Get what is considered ‘best’ down here.” “But what if what is ‘mine’ is…” Remus looked wistfully at the hurricane of souls swirling around them “Never mind. See you around!”

He made his way off towards the offices where he worked, leaving Janus listening to the winds scream for mercy.

One year later: Hell

“Here.” Janus held out a bucket of blood that spat angrily at both of the demons, “from management.” Roman didn’t look up. “Chuck it in, before they get too comfortable.”

Janus peered down at the bubbling lake, almost glad to see that some parts of hell hadn’t changed that much. He poured the new blood in and watched the souls writhe- no hope of Remus for this lot. Though somehow, in some corners, they screamed out his name. How? Patton had nearly torn his horns off the first time he’d heard it, because how? How could they know about him? And that was the problem when the fresh blood was added and the screaming began anew.

What they screamed for.

Roman rolled his eyes “I’ve never wanted them to stop more…” Janus scoffed “You should see Patton, he has lost it.” “How so?” “Apparently,” he began, “He’s been inventing and subjecting harsher tortures for any souls who mention his name- or the others.” Roman chuckled at this “Well! Woe betide any gossip outlet, then…” “He’s getting them shut down, I think.” Roman gasped “His higher-ups can’t approve of that- right?”

Janus raised his eyebrows “His higher-? Roman, after the whole, well, you know… after Remus did all that, his only higher ups were a couple of folks in what used to be ninth circle.” He looked to the lake of blood. “Now? I don’t think some of them would even challenge him…”

“Oh.” Roman smiled. “How long’s that going to last?” “What?” “Patton- in charge? Until things are figured out, right?”

At this Janus started to laugh. He kept laughing and laughing till Roman joined in then realised it just wasn’t funny because it never had been.

“Forever.” He scowled. “He’s going to stabilize and reorganize the layers he has, take back the ones he doesn’t, put the souls back into torment, then execute the demons. All of them. Remus, Virgil, Logan, Remy, ALL OF THEM WILL DIE. Painfully. And then! He will rule over hell forever.”

“That’s a bit cynical.” “Well EXCUSE ME-” “No, I just thought- being an ex-friend of Remus- you might’ve been more cheerful.” Janus bit his lip. “We weren’t friends because we were even remotely similar. We were friends because I was bored, work was boring.” “Okay, makes sense!” Roman smiled. “So we’re all gonna end up working under Patton (if we aren’t already) and it’s gonna be aaaahhh ooohh not good very bad?” “Little bit more than that, but yes.” “Ah so more painfully terrible every moment we’re awake?” “Yeah.” “Hm… why not leave?” Roman casually asked. You know, casually.

Janus scoffed “Because of the whole dying thing?” he gestured wildly “I can’t go off on my own; I don’t stand a chance, I can’t repent; you have to mean that shit, and I can’t go with Remus and his crew because- because…” he looked down “I’m sorry Roman but the reason I never got too involved in the first place is because what he plans just isn’t going to work. He can’t win- he’ll die, and if I get involved then I will too and the point of all of this,” he spread his arms round “Is so you can look out for yourself, so you don’t have to be selfless and give up everything for someone else. Why do I have to be ashamed for not wanting to be a martyr?”

“I… you don’t.” “Exactly” Janus snapped. “If you truly believe that this is what’s better,” Roman added. Janus whistled “No, that’s…” he shook his head “Anyway. Whatever happens, they can’t be faulted for trying.” “No, absolutely not! Wait we are talking Remus and-” “Of course I’m talking about Remus’ lot.” Roman nodded “Ah, well yes- I agree. They’ve done a surprisingly competent job, all of them.”

They both paused for a moment. “It’s because they have the tech guy.” “It’s coz of the tech guy.” Roman agreed “I mean it’s not like the rest of his crew can’t organize things, but…” “It’s the tech guy.” Janus concluded “I hear he orchestrated the ‘Virgil plot’.” “Exactly!” Roman exclaimed “and that was wow, just impressive as anything (if you don’t mind me saying), like- hiding Virgil for that long to steal that many souls? If they don’t win it’ll be a little depressing.” “It’ll be more than that.” Janus smiled solemnly.

“It’ll be the end of life as we know it.”

Ten Years Later: Italy.

“Virge!” Janus could hear someone calling outside of the cavern “can you get that thick ass over here, please?” That ‘someone’ was probably Remus. “Janus, that includes you too!” “How does ‘Virge’ include me?” he called back. “Don’t question the king of crimes!”

Reluctantly, Janus stood up and wandered out to the frosty mountainside. He grimaced- the cold bits of hell had never been his favourite, even when they flaunted ‘coveted positions’ and such. Still.

“You want a coffee?” Remy asked. “Please.” He gestured over to a nearby hut “The coffee machine is right there, honey.” “But I never get the ratio right…” Janus pleaded. Remy chuckled and sipped his drink “Girl, that just ain’t my problem!”

“Janus!” Remus grabbed his arm suddenly and yanked him away “You sexy motherfucker, I called you an AGE ago! Now come on!” “Right, what do you need?” “Emotional stability…” Remus placed his hand on his chest “Just kidding! So basically, the waterpump’s broken (but Logan’s “dealing with that”), we received word that Patton has guns now- so we need better defences just in case- and also Patton has guns so yeah. Can we have those please?” Janus’ eyes widened. “Ok so is Patton-with-a-gun confirmed, or a rumour? Because hell basically never deploys projectiles.” “Are you sure I can’t be used as a projectile?” Remus half-spoke aloud “Yeet me at them.” “You’re getting distracted.” “Oh. Yes, it’s confirmed. One billion percent.” Janus pinched his forehead “Well, somehow I doubt that statistic, but okay. Let’s work on anti-gun strategy, defence, etc. because it is possible they’ll get hold of unholy projectiles specifically for us.” “Why can’t we get guns?” “Maybe one day, but if you actually think I trust you with a GUN-” “Fair point”

“Um, I was called?” Virgil was stood in the snow, watching them talk. They both jumped. “Yeah like, FIFTY YEARS AGO!” Remus cried. “Oh I’M sorry, look I did show up- it’s just I didn’t want to interrupt…” he trailed off. Janus smiled. “That’s understandable.” “That’s understandable.” Remus mimicked “Ooh, whatever, we were just chatting! No rules on chatting! Also what are your thoughts on guns?” “I think we should focus on hiding for now…” “BORING! Guns?” “Let him speak” Janus warned. Virgil looked down “I mean, our last skirmish went well, and we are getting more to join… but right now I think we should focus on what we have. And that advantage is mystery. Let’s keep it.” “Ooh mystery! Spooky!” Remus wiggled his arms. “No, I get what you mean.” Janus nodded “Like how you got so many in the beginning because they were intrigued, people will talk if we stay off the map for a while.” Remus tutted “Oh, you. Being sensible.” He frowned “We’ve been lucky, haven’t we? To live?” Janus smiled “Like this? Absolutely.” “Yeah, we should go under. Be sneaky! Recruit people who aren’t dicks and so on.”

Logan agreed with the idea for once, which was probably because it was Virgil’s, but also he stated: “We have already been living ‘both figuratively and literally underground’ so it makes an appropriate amount of sense to make this an officially secret place of dwelling.” 

He also agreed with Janus’ gun-plan. This, of course, being that they focus on defence and perhaps work on getting weapons of their own in the future. Though he was a little heavier on the “no gun-wielding-Remus” stance, stating: “On no condition can he be allowed a gun, none. Others in our company- fine. I will trust from the upper-most generals to the smallest child amongst us with a projectile, but never Remus. Oh and can we consider adding Remy to that list?”

Janus didn’t bother to question the part about trusting children with guns, he simply nodded and got to work on defence, sometimes smiling at Remus as he did.

And it didn’t matter what anyone was or wasn’t doing, Remus always grinned away.

One Century Later