#but uhm. i warned you. that's my doom hour

[shadowcat222]

Well maybe seeing as I broke down into a sobbing fit my mom will stop talking me well into midnight

[hrefna-the-raven]

Hot as Hades

Misc. masterlist - masterlist

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3

Warnings: none

Words: 1620

Summary: getting ready for the next date (this chapter will be a bit boring, sorry in advance)

Chapter 4 - Invitation

"Whaaaaaaat-is-it-now?!", he bellowed, causing them to immediately fall into silence.

Pain and Panic exchanged glances, uttering unintelligible words to each other before one of them eventually took a step forward.

"Your most lugubriousness, we're sorry to disturb you but uhm you have a visitor."

"Guys this is the Underworld", Hades scoffed while conjuring himself a drink, "we constantly have visitors down here, like", his hand waved towards the never-ending stream of souls spiraling downwards past the window, "permanent visitors."

He sipped on his drink as he sunk back on his throne, already dismissing his minions' announcement under unimportant when suddenly the heavy stone doors of the throne room swung open, crashing into the walls on both sides.

"Brother", Zeus swaggered into the room as if he owned it, grabbing Hades by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.

The Lord of the Dead growled, squirming to free himself but failing.

"What brings you to my room of doom, Zeusy?", Hades grumbled, finally able to free himself out of Zeus' iron grip.

"Aw Hades, can't I just check on my favourite gloom from the tomb brother?"

"You rarely, no wait, in fact, never do so. And forgive me if this sounds a bit impolite, but I'm highly suspicious. Sooooo what in the undead are you doing down here?!"

Hades' voice cracked, his attempt to conceal his anger failing, his venom slowly seeping through his words. The night he spent with you was absolutely enchanting, from the delightful conversations to the shared laughter at each other's jokes. He could feel the intense desire you had for him, and he wouldn't forgive himself if he allowed anyone, especially his meddling brother Bolt Boy over there, to ruin it now. His gaze shifted towards his brother, who suddenly appeared overly interested in the table that still stood in the room, a physical reminder of the sweet memories he had created together with you merely hours ago. As if on cue, Zeus turned around, revealing a delicate sapphire belt held triumphantly in his hand. A self-satisfied grin spread across his face, growing more pronounced with each passing moment.

"Did you have a visitor?", Zeus asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a mischievous manner.

Hades' eyes widened in shock as he saw your belt dangling from Zeus' hand. He jumped up and snatched it away.

"None of your business", Hades snarled.

The last thing he needed was Mister High and Mighty snooping around his affairs. He knew Zeus too well, having experienced his meddling firsthand. The first time, it resulted in the rather involuntary responsibility of overseeing the underworld forever, the last time, it ended his relationship and, because it wasn't bad enough,Hades had to make constant, very conscious effort to forget all the instances where he got the blame for his brothers fuck ups. Therefore, he had no intention of divulging any information about you. At least in his scheming mind, he deemed you his which granted you the status of underworld business, and so solely his, business.

"Anyway, tomorrow, Olympus. Make sure to come, brother. It will be a grant gathering of everyone, oh and I've heard intriguing things about the lady you're with, I'm curious."

"Oh why don't you ask Aphrodite? I'm sure if things are being heard, she might want to add some details", Hades muttered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It's all Greek to me", Zeus winked and vanished, leaving a frustrated Hades behind.

Wasn't it already enough that his brother had imprisoned him in the thankless task of ruling the underworld for eternity? Why did he have to endure Zeus invading the very space of his confinement as well? And for what? To invite him to...something, probably a party. And you were supposed to accompany him, an unspoken invitation, and by extension meet the other gods. Hades closed his eyes, his fingertips pressed into his temples, slowly massaging the growing headache away. He called out for his minions, his muscles tensing at the irritating shuffles of their small footsteps on the stone floor as they approached, giving him a nervous salute. With a snip of his fingers, dark smoke materialised into a wrapped package he had gotten earlier from the Fates, hovering in front of Pain.

"Bring this to her, tell her I'll pick her up at sunset and nothing more! Capiche?"

"Yes boss!", Panic replied a little too eagerly, snatched the package, and scurried away with Pain.

As soon as you stepped into your house the following day after a tiring day at work, you sensed that something was amiss. It felt like the atmosphere had shifted, and there was an unfamiliar disturbance lingering in the air. As you passed through the kitchen, you instinctively grabbed a knife and cautiously made your way towards your bedroom. Carefully you pushed open the door, ready to defend yourself, but your steps came to an abrupt halt as you spotted two young boys energetically jumping on your bed.

"What in the-?"

"She's here, she's here!", both interrupted you and crawled off the bed, holding up a package.

"The boss will pick you up at sunset, wear this, nothing more!", proudly announced the boy with brown hair.

"That's not what he meant by saying that, you idiot!", the blonde one intervened, slapping the other one on the back of his head.

"Oh and how would you know what the boss meant? I was there when he gave the instructions!"

"Me too! Have you forgotten already?"

"You must be Pain and Panic", you sighed amused, giggling, finally putting the knife away and taking the package.

"At your service", both smiled, saluting you.

"So this is from Hades?", you asked, earning an eager nod from the boys.

"Please tell him we delivered and only did as asked", Pain requested, transforming back into his original form.

"We mean like really really put in a good word for us, we don't wanna be maimed", Panic added.

And with that, they both disappeared. Intrigued, you opened the parckage and ran your fingers along the smooth black material of a gown. You let out a gasp as you slipped it on, realising that not only did it reveal a generous amount of cleavage, but the fabric itself was see-through, but it also was as if magic concealed certain parts of your body, so never too much was revealed. As you gazed at your own reflection in the mirror, a delightful warmth began to spread between your thighs. Your mind danced with thoughts of the upcoming evening and Hades' intentions, especially considering the revealing and seductive nature of your robe. You weren't left with much time to wonder when you felt the air shift and the Lord of the Underworld emerged from a cloud of dark smoke beside you.

"Hi babe, I'm a bit early so I figured I'd pick you up here since we've gotten to know each other a bit better yesterday, you know it's more personal and all", Hades strolled around you, his eyes scanning the room, "I must say I dig your style, simple and yet those small skulls and bones give this place a personal touch, thumbs up-", his gaze finally landed on you, "wow wow wow, babe, I uhm, it suddenly got super hot in here and it's definitely not me for once!"

You chuckled at the god standing in front of you, his eyes roaming over your form, dilated pupils and open mouth, unable to hide his burning desire and you could have sworn that his flames burned even hotter than usual.

"You sent the robe."

Your voice broke Hades out of his train of thoughts and brought him back into the present moment with you.

"The Fates picked it", he casually remarked, attempting to regain his usual cool demeanour, "and they weren't wrong when they promised me I wouldn't regret it. But something's missing, hm hm hm", Hades pondered, tapping his finger against his lips, his brows furrowing, "ah yes I know! Let me help with the final touch."

Your hair started moving on its own, swirling and twisting until it formed a chignon at the back of your head adorned with a small bird skull. The tips of the few long strains hanging down on the side of your face were tinted in an almost glowing shade of the same blue as Hades' flames. A silent wow left your lips as you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. The combination of the elegant hairstyle and the flowing robe draped around you gave you a shimmer of divinity and a smile danced across your lips as you turned around hugging Hades.

"It looks perfect, thank you", you whispered, your words barely audible as they sank into the soft fabric of his toga.

"So well, are you ready to start the night?", he asked anxiously, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

You nodded, though a hint of suspicion flickered in your gaze as you observed him.

"Then get ready to meet the family!", he spoke quickly, his arm encircling you tightly as he pulled you closer.

"Wait what?! Does that mean we're going to O-", you cut yourself off with a scream as your surroundings seemed to dissolve.

You closed your eyes, nausea pooling in your stomach while every muscles in your body tensed at the feeling of weighing tons and being weightless at the same time. Just as suddenly as it began, it abruptly ended again and when your feet felt steady ground underneath, you cautiously opened your eyes and gasped in surprise.

"Olympus", you murmured, blinking several times, half-expecting to find yourself back in your own home, awakening from a dream.

Chapter 5

[hangmansgbaby]

Royally Pucked P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut, oral (f recieving), protected p in v, little bit of restraining, clear consent, multiple orgasms, one night stand with no names, douchey guy

Denver, Colorado. Every year my parents host everyone at a resort in Northwest Denver. This year, as the only single one because of my divorce, I'm currently sitting in the hotel bar by myself while my family enjoys kid free date night. 

So far the night had been pretty peaceful. Until this one idiot.

"Ya know, they say ski resorts are the best place to meet the love of your life during the holidays." I glance over to see someone I can only describe as a Chad.

"No one says that." I scoff, taking a sip from my drink.  "Plus you're not my type."

"Oh yeah?" He leans in closer, and suddenly I feel trapped.  "And what is your type then?"

The bartender walks up with two drinks and sets them in front of us. "Here ya go!" Before I could protest he's already gone. 

"I ordered this for you." 'Chad' smiles, sliding the drink closer to me.

"No thank you." I push it away and down the last of my drink. "Can I get my tab please?" I ask the bartender as he moves back around pulling my wallet out. 

"I got it." 

"Nope, I can pay for myself." I insist but 'Chad' is already dropping his credit card on the counter as the bartender returns. "Whatever, have a good night." I scoff and turn towards the entryway to the lobby. 

"Oh come on. Why don't you hang out a little longer?"  I look back at him in disbelief.  "What? We could get a room together, hangout with some privacy." He smirks. I roll my eyes and continue walking. "Hey! I'm talking to you!"

Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my arm and turn me to face someone. "This guy bothering you, darlin?" Instead of being met with 'Chad's' obnoxious face, I'm met with the most gorgeous green eyes. 

"Uhm--" I stutter, what do I even say?

"Hey man, we were just heading to get a room."

"With my fiancé?" Oh, thank god for this man.

"I don't see a ring?" 'Chad' says smugly.

"I'm not used to wearing yet." I smile. "He only proposed at Christmas."

"I'll glue it to your finger so that way I never have to see you without it." The green eye cutie smiles and presses a kiss to my left hand. "Thanks for keeping my future wife company but I'll take over from here." 

'Chad' just scoffs and makes his way back to the bar where his friends sit laughing at him.

"Thanks for saving me back there." I say gratefully once 'Chad' disappears. "You didn't need to do that."

"It's no problem. Should I escort you upstairs? Make sure the creep doesn't follow you?" He smiles and offers me his arm. I smile sweetly and loop mine through his.

"That would be great." We head up to the elevator landing.

"So what are you doing out here by yourself?" He asks me as the elevator closes and I push my floor number. 

"Nieces and Nephews are at kid's club so my whole family is out for date night." I sigh, leaning against the wall. 

"Boyfriend couldn't make the trip?" He questions from the other wall. 

"Oh no, no. I just got divorced so nothing is happening on that front." I chuckle nervously.

"Well he was an idiot." The man states. I look him in the eyes for the first time since entering the elevator and I can see the genuine sincerity in his eyes. 

"How about you? No one to keep you otherwise occupied here?"

"No, I'm traveling for work right now." 

"Oh?"

"Yea it's nothing major. Day was a dud until I kinda lucked out on the last hotel available tonight." He smirks.

"Yeah? How come?" I blush. He's moved closer to me. I can only tell because I've pushed myself further against the wall of the elevator. How long have we been in here? A minute? Ten minutes? I honestly have no idea. It feels like hours.

"We lost our game and up until I saw this gorgeous girl, I for sure thought today was doomed to end badly."  I can feel my heart skip a beat at those words.  His emerald eyes bore into mine as he reaches up and gently strokes a few strands of hair behind my ear. I close my eyes, allowing his touch to linger.  My body tingles with anticipation. He leans down, closer and closer, till-- "But, she's pretty adamant about nothing happening on the romance front." He says as he steps away. Oh this man.

"Mmhmm. So how would you convince her otherwise?" My voice is breathy.

"I told her it was okay that we kept things casual." He smirks, "I leave tomorrow morning."

"No names?" I suggest.

"If you'll let me show you that not all men are as terrible as your ex-husband must have been, I'll do anything."  He promises and takes hold of my waist. I'm instantly on cloud nine, practically giddy.

"Anything?" 

"Anything you want." He whispers, pressing his lips against mine. I melt into the kiss.  Suddenly the doors open and he pulls away. "Lead the way?"

I nod, exiting the elevator and walking towards my room. He has is arms wrapped around me from behind, trailing kisses along my jaw and neck as I try to get my key card to swipe. "Ya know, Denver, the key card works if it's facing the right way." He reaches a hand up, flips the card around and opens my door.

"Denver?" I question, turning around and stumbling through the doorway backwards, kicking my shoes off.

"Well I gotta call you something but since we're doing no names, I'm nicknaming you Denver, for the city we met."  He states, tugging off my shirt.

"Okay. What should I call you?" I ask, closing the door.

"You choose." He says with a smirk, pulling me back against his chest. I've only now noticed how enticing and sinful his smirk is and it makes my knees weak.

I blush as I try to think of nickname as he start kissing my neck again. "Alright. How about Rocky?" He pulls back to look at my face and raises a brow at me as he starts unbuttoning my jeans. "Well you said you lost a game. Game usually means sport and the only team from Denver I can think of is the Rockies."

"You think the Rockies are playing a baseball game during this season?" Rocky asks, pushing my jeans and underwear down my thighs and tossing them across the room.

"I could care less about when baseball season is, Rocky. You got five seconds to get me on that bed or--" 

I don't even finish my sentence and Rocky is already picking me up. I wrap my legs around his waist as we start to kiss. He slowly lowers me onto the bed. His hands slide across my hips he squeezes, sending chills up my spine. I gasp as he begins to trail soft kisses from my lips to my jawline, down the valley between my boobs.  When he comes to the sensitive spot between my legs I whimper. 

"Rocky..."  

His name slips out of my mouth on a quiet moan.  His mouth is on my clit in seconds, sucking gently. I move my hands down to his hair, running my fingers through the blonde locks.  

"Fuck!"

His hands move to my knees, moving them apart slightly before he places his lips against my folds. My head falls back into the pillow as I begin to rock my hips upwards. I grip his hair tighter, causing him to pull slightly harder. 

"Oh fuck, Rocky! Please."  I beg as he licks me through my slickness. My hands tighten around his hair as I reach my climax, throwing my head back as a loud cry leaves my lips.  I fall back onto the mattress as he pulls away. When I open my eyes, he's sitting at the side of the bed staring intently at me. "Wow." I breath.

 He shakes his head slightly then leans over to kiss me lightly.  I softly moan at the taste of my release that still coats his lips. 

"You sure did enjoy yourself there, Denver." He smirks.

"Shut up." I laugh, flipping us to where he is flat on the bed and I'm on top. He runs his hands up and down my thighs, eliciting another moan from me. I subtly grind my hips against his. 

"God, you're beautiful." He groans, his hands moving to my hips to help me move. I continue grinding against him and I can feel him harden even more underneath me. "Jesus, Denver."  I smile down at him. "I need to be in you now." Rocky flips us over and reaches for his jeans.

"Expecting to get laid tonight?" I giggle as he pulls a condom out of his back pocket. 

"Nah. My buddy slipped it into my back pocket after I chased off that guy." Rocky's cheeks are flushed as he holds the foil packet. "We don't have to... I mean..."

"Put it on hotshot." I smile, shifting up the bed to lay on the pillows. "Or I could take care of myself." I smirk as my hand drifts to my soaked center.  He gives me a cocky smirk before ripping open the condom and sliding it on. He crawls up the bed and pulls my hand away, placing it above my head. His other hand positions my other hand and pins them both together against the pillows. 

"Is this okay?" He asks, positioning his cock right against my folds. 

"Yeah." I moan as he presses himself against me.

"Good." He smirks then leans forward and kisses me, his tongue dancing in my mouth as he slips inside me. 

It feels so good. It almost felt too good. It felt better than good. It felt so fucking right. As we kiss, I can feel my walls clenching around him as he fully sinks in.  I'm completely engulfed in him, taking every ounce of pleasure he provides. Every thrust brings a new wave of euphoria and pleasure, leaving me moaning his name.

"Denver, oh god!" He groans as he releases my hands to hold my hips and starts thrusting faster and deeper. My orgasm builds higher and higher as he continues, filling me over and over again. I feel myself getting closer and closer to my climax. I feel him push a second time.  Before I know it, I'm coming undone.

"Ahhhhh! Rocky!" I scream as my orgasm crashes into me. We stay connected as the waves of pleasure run through us and I feel him spill into me. After a few moments, he pulls out of me and tosses the condom into the trash can before collapsing beside me, breathing heavily. I can hardly breathe myself, but I manage to roll over and snuggle into his chest. 

 "That was amazing." He mutters into the top of my head as we drift back to sleep.

When I wake up the next morning, everything aches. I roll over, trying to stretch my sore muscles. As soon as I do I realize I am alone in bed. I quickly jump up, grabbing my phone to check the time. It's 9:45 in the morning. "Rocky?" I call walking over to the bathroom but it's empty. turning back towards the bed is when I notice his clothes missing and a notepad on the bedside table.

Denver,

Thank you for a great night. I'm glad that I got to spend some time with you, even if it was for the night. Good luck in whatever adventure you find yourself in.

Rocky

PS you look cute when you sleep ;)

Three knocks ring through my room as my sister's voice rings through. 

"Layne? You alive in there?"

Oh I am so royally pucked.

Taglist (join here): @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @thedroneranger @kmc1989 @dempy @buckysteveloki-me @hangmanshoney @hookslove1592

[sleepiexx]

A Breath of Fresh Air

John “Soap” Mactavish x fem!Reader

Note: loosely based on my travel experience a few months back when I was flying alone for the first time but fucked up and got really sick and had a good cry in the airport bathroom.

Summary: (Y/N) is having a terrible day at the airport, luckily for her a very handsome Scottish stranger is there to help her out.

Warnings: reader has a panic attack

Word Count: 1673

The airport is a daunting place. First, you have to go through TSA. 30 minutes to an hour of being treated like a criminal, throwing away any drink you had to calm the head ache you’re sure to have, shoes off, going through some futuristic metal detector, all ultimately just standing as a reminder of the possible doom you face just getting on a plane. After that, there’s a million letters and numbers that you have to decipher to get where you’re going. Gates, terminals, baggage claim, why was there a difference? It all makes no sense, especially when it’s your first time traveling solo and the day just isn’t going your way.

To begin with, (Y/N) woke up on the wrong side of the bed. She didn’t wake up until 30 minutes after her alarm went off, completely off-setting her perfectly timed out plan for the day. She had to scramble to get ready, throwing on leggings and a sweatshirt, feeling like a total wreck. After that, she had to rush to call a cab because of course, she had no one else to drive her. While in that cab, it seemed the driver was having a similarly awful day because he was snippy with her the entire ride, topping it all off by dropping her in the wrong place.

She didn’t even realize until she checked her ticket again while going through TSA and realized she was 13 gates over from where she was meant to be. She’d heard before that for international flights, you’re supposed to arrive at the airport 4 hours before you’re set to board. She didn’t travel often, but when she did, she was taught to always follow this rule. Yet with her sleeping in, she was behind schedule.

After TSA, she looked around desperately at the signs for some sort of guidance on where to go, getting lost was the last thing she needed right now but fate just seemed to have it out for her.

Lost and late, she had somehow managed to get both lost and late. Her heart rate spiked at the thought. She could be stuck here in this country where she had nowhere to even stay the night rather than in Scotland where she planned to be all because she was a heavy sleeper this morning. She panicked, breathing becoming harder and harder, embarrassment peaking as she couldn’t stop tears from streaming down her face. The embarrassment only seemed to make breathing an even more impossible task. She felt like she was dying, gripping at her chest as her heart pounded.

A hand tapped at her shoulder, filling her with dread. Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone? It’s not like she’s about to give anyone directions when she herself is lost. She turned to her side to face the man who had tapped her. He looked roughly her age and to put it in simple terms, he was hot. He was muscular with a handsome face and blue eyes that you could just drown in. A Mohawk that (Y/N) would be aching to run her hands through under any other circumstance, but she had no luck in circumstance today. God why did he have to be hot? It felt like public humiliation, being all overstimulated and overwhelmed in front of the whole airport, and now in front of the pretty stranger.

“Look, I know it’s none of my business.” He began.

God, no. Please, why god?

“But you kind of look like you’re having a panic attack, and I know some breathing exercises that could really help if you want.”

Oh? He was… offering to help?

She sniffled, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her sweater before nodding, “Yeah, I’d- uhm, I’d really appreciate that.”

His lips quirked up into a smile, “Alright, let’s sit down first.”

He guided her to a bench on the side of wherever it was in the terminal they were.

“Okay, can you try and follow my breathing?” He asked. She nodded and tried to sync up with his breaths.

“Breathe in,” he muttered, breathing in and silently counting in his head, watching as (Y/N) did the same. “Hold,” she did, “And breathe out.”

They continued the cycle a few more times before the man could see that she had visibly calmed. He wondered what had gotten her so worried in the first place.

He couldn’t help but voice his curiosity, hopeful that he could find a solution, “If I may, do you know what’s got you so stressed?”

Her lips curled into a deep-set frown before she reluctantly admitted her issues, “I don’t know where my gate is.”

“Well I can help with that, pull out your ticket, I’ll point you in the right direction.”

It was only now that she realized he had an accent, something European. Her brain wasn’t running on 100% so she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what country, but she figured something like Finland or Ireland.

Disregarding her side thoughts about his accent, she reached into her carry on to pull out her ticket. She retrieved it, flattening out some of the wrinkles it got in her bag before handing it to the man.

“Hey, looks like we’re headed to the same place.” He said, pulling out his own ticket to compare, “I think we’re sat next to each other too. We can head there together.”

A wave of reassurance washed over her. They started towards the gate, he seemed to know where he was going so she followed.

“I really appreciate you helping me.” She told him, “I’m (Y/N) by the way.”

He smiled at her, face lit up like a beam of sunshine. “I’m John, but you can call me Johnny if you like. Nice to meet you.”

She smiled back, “You as well.”

Johnny was very charismatic. He led the conversation with no issue and never once made her feel like her anxiety was showing.

“So, what’s got you headed to Scotland?” He wondered aloud.

“I’m moving there.” She answered, “Are you from there?”

“Born and raised. It’s a wonderful place, you’re going to love it.”

After more small talk, they made it to their gate with time to spare. All of (Y/N)’s worries were quelled.

“What’s your favorite soda, (Y/N)? I’m going to grab us some from the little shop over there.”

“You don’t have to do that, I’m fine.” She assured.

John shook his head, “I want to. Besides, you’ve just had a panic attack, you need to get some hydration in ye’.”

She wouldn’t refuse his kind deed, simply telling him her favorite drink and letting him get it for her. Thanking him profusely for it, of course.

They continued talking as they waited to board the plane, and even after they eventually boarded. Johnny had been right, they were seated right next to each other. On the plane, (Y/N) shared one of her ear buds with him so they could watch a few movies together on her laptop. She found out he was actually hilarious, with his commentary on the movie making her laugh harder than she’d ever laughed before. She saw it as a win every time she got him to laugh just as hard.

They spent hours talking and getting to know each other. The flight she had dreaded, turned out to be not as bad as she had expected. As the 7 hour flight came to an end, she was unexpectedly really disappointed. She spent all this time bonding with this man, only to likely never see him again.

She frowned slightly as they waited to get off the plane.

“What’s got you all upset again? Thought I’d done a good job keeping you laughing, am I really that unfunny?” John joked.

(Y/N) shook her head, “Nah, you’re hilarious Johnny… I’m just kinda bummed I won’t see you again.”

He hadn’t thought about it, but it really bummed him out too. Thinking on his feet, he grabbed a sharpie they’d previously used to draw with. He pulled her arm towards him and began to write on her wrist.

“What, leaving me a drawing to remember you by?” She joked, trying to get a glimpse at what he was writing but ultimately failing with his head in the way.

He finished, moving his head and showing her wrist to her, numbers written neatly on her arm so she could actually read it later. “My number, so you can see me again. I’ll be your first new friend in Scotland, how’s that sound?”

As she beamed at him, he pulled her wrist towards him once more and wrote something else on it. She waited until he moved so she could see what else he had to say. He drew a little shark smiling at her with its razor sharp teeth.

“And that’s a cool shark, to remember me by.”

She burst out into a fit of giggles, John falling victim to her contagious laugh and giggling some as well. Basking in each other’s presence.

They stayed together at the baggage claim, Johnny grabbing (Y/N)’s bags for her, and waited for their friends. Eventually, they both spotted their separate friends holding signs with their names on them.

“I guess this is goodbye.” She muttered.

“I guess it is,” he frowned, turning to look her in the eyes, “You think maybe I could take you out sometime?”

“Like a date?” She asked.

“Only if you want.” He said with a shy smile.

In a rare moment of boldness, (Y/N) kissed Johnny’s cheek, telling him, “I’d really like that.” Before skipping off to greet her friends.

Having noticed John in his dazed state, his own friend walked up to him, looking in the same direction he was staring at.

“What’s up with you?” They asked.

He continued staring off into the distance at her, before grinning and looking at his friend, “I think I’ve just met the woman I’m going to marry.”

[engr4vedlesso]

《Not a wink of sleep~

《 Pairing: Lady Lesso x !sick !never reader

《 I think purple and green go well together ;)

Tw: !cursing

"I didn't sleep.." You groaned turning over to meet Hester's glare on your body.

"Are you serious." Anadil sighed and turned on her lamp, brushing aside her white hair covering her red eyes. Narrowing them at your fidgeting fingers.

"Well I can get an extra 2 minutes.." Dot wearily said covering her head from Anadil's bright lamp.

"I'm serious.." You sat up, "I drank a cup of warm milk before going to sleep, but I didnt.." Letting out a silent groan your head found its way into your pillow and you internally screamed.

Hester snickered, Anadil followed suit and Dot groaned taking the covers off of her head getting out of bed.

Soon Hester laughed allowing all three of them to laugh and you to sulk. The moment was trashed by Dot ripping open the dark curtains (They have curtains >:(..) making Anadil dive under her bedsheets.

"Time for breakfast!" Dot exclaimed making you all groan.

Anadil looked at your tired form. "You look like you get by with 1 hour of sleep every night. I wont even sugar coat it." Anadil said and chuckled.

As you all walked to your side of the hall, an ever had tripped infront of you twisting her ankle.

"Oh sh_t, are you alright..?" You panicked kneeling down to throw her arm around your shoulder hearing a faint whisper of "yes, I'm fine, thank you.."

"I'll catch up with you lot, go on.." You said walking with the girl.

"But.. you know what will happen.." Dot warned and you smiled.

Making your way to the ever's side of the hall a bunch of fairies blocked your way, looking behind you.

"Hello, uhm, I have to take this girl to the infirmary.. do you know where that.." You trailed off hearing the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking armor behind you.

"You've got to be f*cking me.." You whispered and set the ever down on a nearby chair making the fairies yelp in surprise.

"Look, you take care of her, while I get taken care of.." You narrowed your eyes as your hands were restrainted around your back.

"My name is Kasia by the way!" she winced as you were thrashed to the side by the wolves.

"Pleasure to meet you!" You said presenting your best smile at her from a distance.

"Oh dear, Kasia, you alright?" Another ever ran to her aid.

"Yes, Aaliyah I'm fine.." she winced again as Aaliyah supported her limp to the infirmary.

The wolves shoved you into the icey cold chamber and and clasped the chains around your wrists, ankles and neck almost stringing you up.

"Pleasant customer service.. I rate it.. a 1 out of 5 stars.." You laughed as the wolves growled making sure you were secured.

They then left without a word, you sweatdropped. (The version of the doom room is from the book, I may use both appearances from the book and movie.)

Your head met the wall behind you letting you close your eyes. "What an upgrade.. this room is right beneath the Dean's classroom.. she said it was warmer.. not colder." You let a toothy smirk grace you features.

You heard the sound of rubber gloves coming in contact against skin as well as the clicking of heels against the stone floor and stopped smirking. (I think she'd look hot in gloves..)

'Dont tell me its..' you thought leaning you head off of the wall. Your startled eyes were met with crazy curly copper hair.

"Beast went missing, so I have to deal with you brats.." Lesso muttered looking up before a smug smirk lit up her face. "This is wonderful.." Lesso let out a giggle and pulled on her gloves with her canines, smirking.

With a groan your head hit the back of the wall again, closing your eyes.

"What the hell," You laughed. "I thought a wolf was supposed to be ridding me of my sanity?" You shot a glare at Lesso as her body inched closer to yours. She hid her face in your shoulder and undid your restraints, stepping away.

"What the.." You almost fell but she caught you pulled you closer by your waist. "Why are you treating me like this..?" You muttered, eyes almost closing due to the close proximity of the two bodies.

"You didnt sleep last night, did you.." Lesso glared and took your face in her hands, staring off into your eyes. You dozed off into hers, your body felt weak.. (weak ash :) ) allowing the darkness to envelope your vision.

You woke up in a unfamiliar looking room and observed your surroundings. You looked down, beside you and saw the messy red head staring at you with a wicked smile.

You flinched back and was pinned to the bed by both of your arms. She then straddled your legs and looked down at you with a frown of authority.

"You're not going anywhere.. You're sick." She said and snapped making belts appear like snakes in the air and dove down to your wrists, ankles, and waist.

You blushed and tried to sit up but the pressure of Lesso on your lap wouldnt let you. With a groan you relaxed onto the bed and submitted to her attempt to get you still.

She was wearing a black vest with matching black pants and tie, complementing her white shirt.

Her hand felt your forehead, she saw your red cheeks and thought you were burning up. A look of realization was plastered on her face, then contorted to one of pride. She hopped off of the bed and walked to get a cold cloth from the bathroom.

You looked to the side and avoided eye contact when she placed it upon your forehead.

"I know you would much prefer my hands instead, but this will have to substitute.." She smugly said not before scratching under your chin as if you were a cat with her long finger nails, she kissed your forehead.

You let out an unintentional whimper, before folding your lips. Pulling on her trench coat, and gripping her cane, she sauntered out leaving you with a flustered expression in her bed.

[skzhocomments]

In the Dark - Choi Minho SHINee Fanfic - Chapter 12 - Somewhere I belong

General masterlist

Story masterlist - please consult it for the summary of the story, trigger warnings etc.

Wattpad | AO3

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

---

Chapter 12 - Somewhere I belong

chapter word count: ~4.4k words

~Jieun’s POV~

“Okay, kids! That’s all for today. See you tomorrow!” I waved and opened the door of the classroom, watching as parents came and picked up their children.

Just as usual, Nari and I were the last in the room, and I helped her take out some of her books so we could do her homework together until 4 PM, when I would take her to her art classes.

My grandmother’s funeral was two weeks ago, and the days since have brushed over me with such force, I felt like a small boat broken apart by large swells. I was still feeling strange about everything, and wasn’t sure how to keep going further, as there was no longer any final goal for me to reach, anything at stake.

I only moved to this city to take my grandmother to the best hospital in the country, but now that she was gone, what need was there for me to stay here?

I didn’t know anyone, I didn’t have any friends, my grandmother was gone.

Why would I stay here?

My eyes absent-mindedly turned to Nari, and I watched her solve her math problems in concentration. The furrow of her brows was really cute, and her resemblance to Minho was uncanny.

I found myself smiling at the thought of the father-daughter duo, and then I felt a pang in my heart, as Minho and I still haven’t addressed the whole In the Dark fiasco. We haven’t spent much alone time together after the funeral, and it felt unnatural to talk about it.

I wasn’t even sure how to broach the subject anyway.

Hey, Minho, I’m a whore! Surprise!

That surely wouldn’t work.

Instead of thinking about it any further, I started helping Nari with the more difficult exercises, and the hours passed by quickly.

“Okay, Nari, it’s time to go to your art classes.” I smiled and stood up, helping her put everything back in her pink backpack.

As if on cue, the door opened just as I said this, and Minho came in the classroom.

“Daddy!” Nari shot up and ran to her father’s arms, and my eyes widened.

“Hi, baby.” He kissed her head. “You ready to go?”

“Are you taking me to art today?!” She asked, her eyes full of surprise.

“Yes, Miss Park and I will take you to your art classes together today.” He replied, and I looked at him confused.

Nari returned to her backpack to finish packing as Minho came towards me.

“I was hoping you’d be free to talk a bit afterwards?”

“Sure.” I nodded, but I felt my chest tighten.

~

“So…” Minho smiled, looking a bit uncomfortable, and I was feeling just as restless.

He took me to a café, so I decided to focus on my coffee cup for the time being, feeling the impending doom his next words would most certainly bring.

“I really wanted to talk to you, but it’s been a bit chaotic with everything going on…” He continued.

“Yeah…”

“And you’ve also avoided my texts and calls like the plague.”

“I… uhm… I didn’t…” I shifted in my seat, unsure of what to say to excuse myself.

He was right, I’ve been avoiding all his attempts of reaching out, simply because I didn’t know how to act around him anymore. I only answered if there was something at stake concerning Nari, but that was pretty much it.

“It’s okay, Jieun. I know you’re probably feeling very awkward…”

“Aren’t you?”

“Not necessarily. You see… I had my doubts about you being Flame for a while. I just wasn’t certain.”

“I also thought you might be Charisma, but it felt like such an absurd thought, that I discarded it pretty much immediately.” I confessed.

“Absurd? How so?”

“Well, uhm… yeah, you’re right. This is really awkward.” I chuckled nervously, but Minho didn’t seem to pick up what I meant from my gestures alone. “I mean, look at you, Minho. You… you have it all. The personality, the looks, the money. You could be with anyone you wanted. Why would you hire a prostitute?”

“Because… I’ve been really scared of any intimacy after my wife passed. I guess I wasn’t ready for any serious relationships. When I found out about this site… I thought it might be good to try something new for a change.”

“Oh.”

“What about you, Jieun? Why were you on there?”

“I needed money for my grandmother’s bills and didn’t know how else to get it. It’s as simple as that. I’m feeling so ashamed right now. You must think I have no morals-”

“Hey.” He placed his hand on top of mine. “I don’t think anything like that about you. In fact, I’m really glad I found out, and that it was you. There’s nothing to feel ashamed about, yeah?”

“Minho, I can’t even look you in the eyes knowing that if you wouldn’t have been my consistent client I would’ve just sold myself to any other man who would’ve paid. It’s so hard to not feel ashamed, guilty even. And you’re glad you found out and that it was me?!”

“Yes. I’m glad because I was also feeling guilty for having feelings for you, Nari’s teacher, and wanting to pursue a relationship with you, while thinking about Flame. So, yes, Jieun, I’m really glad Flame was you the whole time, and it makes so much sense, too.”

“How does it make any sense?”

“Because I’ve always known what I want, or rather, who I want. But this time… damn, the whole situation was messing with my head, because I wanted you both. I’ve fallen for you twice. I started liking you, Flame, from your gestures alone. Remember that time you ‘kissed me’ with your hand on top of my lips? Who does that to show affection while respecting that one request I had, Jieun?”

“I just… it felt right, in that moment.” I averted my gaze.

“So, you also felt it. It wasn’t simply the fact that we were having sex, it was… more.”

“I also… felt confused. I liked Charisma a lot, I was even glad he wanted to keep seeing me because I enjoyed spending time with him. And then we started spending more time together, and I realised I also like you, Minho. I liked spending time with you and Nari, I liked us drinking together, and when you kissed me that night… I wanted to take it further so bad, but… it felt wrong, considering I was selling myself, you know?”

“I see…”

“That’s why I don’t even know what to say to you now. Because if Charisma stopped seeing me, and my grandma would’ve still been alive, I would’ve… I would’ve continued selling myself... to someone else, that wouldn't have been you.”

“That a hypothetical scenario, Jieun.”

“Even so.”

“I would’ve still understood, if you’d told me. Sex for money and sex for love are different things, so how could I be upset that you were a prostitute?”

A prostitute.

It stung.

“Are they that different, though? Because it sure as hell didn’t feel any different when it was Charisma.”

To that, it seemed I shut Minho down for a few moments. Still, he recovered quickly and kept persisting, going back to one of his previous points.

“If we would’ve talked-”

“Then what?” I cut him off. “You’re being too idealistic, Minho.”

“I could’ve still paid you, or-” He started, but stopped as soon as I threw him a look. “Ok, that was a bad thing to say.”

He chuckled awkwardly, and I also laughed briefly, and the air between us shifted from unbearably uncomfortable and suffocating to a bit more easy to breathe.

“The thing is, I really like you, Jieun, and I want to take us further and to be honest about our feelings. I don’t care that you were Flame, and if you also don’t mind that I was Charisma, then what is holding us back?”

His words made my eyes instantly turn back to my now empty coffee cup. I should’ve been happy hearing this, perhaps, but for some reason, his words were registering in a wrong way in my head, and dread was settling down in my stomach.

I wanted to be with Minho, that much I knew, but somehow, it felt as complicated as trying to force the stars to align. But aren’t stars just old, dead lights?

What is left of us, then?

What if what I wanted from Minho was simply out of reach, even if it seemed closer than ever? After all, I always had the tendency to reach for the unreachable, and Minho felt like he was just that.

He was out of my reach, even if he was sitting right in front of me, confessing some… fleeting feelings.

What if he’d change his mind once he fully processed that I’ve never been that great woman he made me out to be in his head?

I was just a whore. We were doomed from the beginning.

How could I even begin to accept his words, with my heart feeling this deep agony?

What was there even left to say to him about this whole train wreck we found ourselves in? 

I was rummaging through my head like I would for something in my bag, but with such a mess inside, it was too hard to find anything.

It was better to keep silent.

“You don’t have to give me an answer now…” He started after a while, and I realised how much time I’ve been deep in thought for, which forced an apologetic smile on my face. I couldn't say anything after all. I couldn't... I couldn't accept his feelings, not with the ache in my heart and this unbearable fog in my brain.

I couldn't.

“I don’t know where to go from here, Minho. Me, you… us?” I chuckled bitterly. “It’s… it’s too complicated. Too many things happened at once and I think I haven’t fully processed anything. I’m sorry, but I… I need some time to put my thoughts in order.” I said, and every word burned my tongue, but it was true.

My feelings were too complicated to navigate now, and I needed more time to process it all, to think about whether I should stay here or go back to my hometown and friends. Whether I should keep living here and lean on Minho and maybe become the mother Nari’s never had or return to my previous life and try to forget that this past year has even happened.

“I understand.” Minho replied in a kind tone and placed his hand on top of mine, over the table. “You should just focus for yourself on the time being, Jieun. Everything else can wait.”

~

It was hard getting out of the slump I fell in.

Days blurred into each other, grey, never changing. 

Wake up, get dressed, go to work, come home, sleep and repeat.

Day after day, week after week, this mindless routine was the only thing that helped keep my life in a somewhat order.

The first few weeks were the hardest. As my grandmother’s death began settling in, so did all the suffocating feelings I’ve been repressing. It was hard to focus on anything once the shock wore off, because the heartbreak was too painful, and the realisation that my grandma would never call my name again hit me like a truck.

When I was at home, I would try to focus on reading or on watching a show just to get my mind off things, but I would keep spacing out instead. I would try cleaning, only to end up in bed one hour later, realising I don’t have enough energy to at least stand up. I'd go to the bathroom for a quick shower, only to realise it's been two hours and the water ran cold.

Every action I did was performed with thin detachment, as I wasn’t really feeling like a person.

It was quite ironic, really. Having been independent for so long, I was used to being on my own. This time, however, it felt lonelier than ever. It felt isolating and painful, and remembering how I got to this point felt like getting punched in the gut over and over again.

I missed my grandmother. Terribly. And this thought kept recurring, making me break down and sob, crying my heart out until no more tears would fall. But despite of this, time kept moving on, giving me no chance whatsoever to collect myself. 

They say time heals, but it somehow didn't lessen the suffocating pain in my chest.

As the weeks passed, however, I got better at managing these episodes.

On my own, I learnt how to calm myself down, how to stop crying and how to accept the harsh reality. It took a long time to do so.

My destructive pattern of isolating myself from others came in full force though, and a lot of things around me changed. For instance, I stopped reaching out to the friends I still had left in my hometown, and I stopped replying to Minho.

I couldn't. I couldn't speak to anyone. It hurt too much to articulate what I was feeling, and being on my own felt like the safest option.

My former friends all stopped trying, eventually.

Falling into a pointless routine felt like the only way I could protect myself, keep myself from becoming insane. I tried to focus all my energy into teaching my class, coming up with new lesson plans and grading papers, because thinking about anything else made my head hurt.

This worked for a while, but the loneliness started eating away at me slowly. I still wasn’t sure of what to do but knowing that everyone else had their own lives while I was stuck on my trauma felt even more lonely and isolating. It was like trying to speak but having an index finger against my mouth.

I realised slowly that this isolation was not beneficial to me at all. It was hurtful not only to myself, but also to those people I’ve been keeping at arm’s length. Still, it didn't feel right trying to get back in touch with my friends. There was too much distance between us now, too many unspoken words.

I considered once again it might be better to keep staying on my own, but my anxiety got the best of me, and then, one evening, when it all got too overwhelming, I knew I had to do something about it. I needed to stop thinking for once, to stop making excuses or ponder on what to say or how to apologise for being so detached. I just picked up my phone, texting the one person who hasn’t stopped trying even though I’ve been distant.

The moment I sent him the message, he called. Instantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” I replied sheepishly. I felt bad.

I haven’t answered him much lately, and despite the pointless conversations about the weather (or such) we had while he dropped Nari off and picked her up from school, we haven’t really talked... at all.

Because of me.

“Are you feeling any better? I was waiting for your text, you know.” He chuckled slightly.

“Yeah…” I replied, but quickly shook my head, even if he wasn’t able to see me. “… no. Sorry.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Should I come over or come pick you up?”

“What about Nari?”

“Sleepover at Jiho.”

“Okay.”

“Great. I’ll be there in 15.”

Once we ended the call, I started looking around my apartment, noticing how messy everything was. Lots of items were misplaced, there were clothes on the floor, unwashed coffee mugs, and it was generally a mess.

I started picking up a few things before realising I should probably take a quick shower and change from my pyjamas, because I haven’t changed since yesterday afternoon when I got back from school, so I gave up on cleaning the apartment and cleaned myself instead.

When I was out of the shower, Minho was already at my door, and the apartment was still a mess. Only the living room was somehow presentable.

I opened the door slowly, peeking from the inside at the man who, despite dressed casually, looked like a million bucks.

“Hi.” I smiled, pondering on whether I should invite him in or not.

Minho smiled at me expectedly.

“Do you… uhm… want to come in?”

“If you’ll have me?” He chuckled softly. The situation was once again absurd. I told him to come over, and now I was reluctant to let him in simply because I had a messy apartment.

“I didn’t clean up…” I smiled apologetically and moved away from the door, and Minho followed me in with a chuckle.

“This is you not cleaning up? You can’t be serious, Jieun.” He looked around and then threw me a look.

“It’s dirty.”

“A few things are misplaced, yeah, but it’s definitely not dirty.” He laughed and patted my head once, as if I was a child.

“Hey, what are you doing?” I grabbed his arm as I saw him bend down to rearrange my shoes.

“Helping out.”

“No.”

“No?” He laughed again, then pointed to my little shoe rack in the corner of the hallway. “It’s gonna take two seconds to put these there.”

“Still.” I shook his hand a bit and found myself pouting, before quickly correcting my expression.

“Can you make me a tea while I put these there?”

“Okay…” I reluctantly agreed and let him be and went into the kitchen. I picked up some dried mint and made tea, and then took the two mugs to the living room, where Minho already made himself at home on my sofa.

“Thanks.” He smiled, picking up the mug I handed him.

I sat down as well and looked into my teacup, examining the liquid as my heart was doing rounds in my chest. I wanted to apologise for basically disappearing, and I wanted to tell him everything that was on my chest, all the thoughts that didn’t let me sleep for the past weeks.

But I didn’t know how to begin, or where.

“Long time no see.” He started for me, placing a soothing hand on my back and making me look at him. I saw him putting his mug on the table, and I followed suit absent-mindedly.

“Minho, look… I’m sorry for-” I started, but he cut me off by taking me by surprise with a hug.

I stopped talking and just hugged him back, breathing in his scent. He smelled good, like soap and deodorant, with a tint of perfume on his shirt.

When he pulled away, he looked at me and removed a few strands of hair from my face.

“You lost weight.” He frowned. “And you’re pale.”

“You saw me almost every day, Minho.” I reminded him. Despite not talking or meeting one-on-one, we did see each other every working day of the week when he came to school.

“Not this close.” He shook his head. “How are you feeling, Jieun?”

He let me go and picked his mug to take a sip of his tea, and I did the same, because I didn’t know where else to put my hands, or what to do.

“Honestly…” I shook my head. “Not good, Minho.”

I let out a shaky breath and blinked back a couple of tears.

“I’m sorry.” I chuckled. “It’s just that… everything is so confusing. My feelings are all over the place, and I’m tired all the time, and I couldn’t even reach out to anyone. It felt like the biggest chore to get up in the morning, to get dressed… and even to reply to texts. I got so fed up with everyone’s texts, really. I am so sorry for your loss. Let me know if you need anything. It’s so damn tiring, Minho.”

He didn’t say anything, however, he placed his hand back on my back, rubbing circles soothingly.

“I don’t know what to do to get back on track, to feel a bit better. I’m completely lost. I focused so much on making sure my grandmother is taken care of, and now that she’s gone, I feel like my life no longer has any purpose.”

“It does, Jieun.”

“Like what? What am I even doing in this city, Minho? I don’t even belong here-”

“That’s not true.” He cut me off. “You have a job to get back to, with so many children knowing that there’s a safe space that waits for them in your classroom. You have your little routine here, your own place-”

“I’m renting, it’s not really my place.” I mumbled, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“You know what I meant. Point is, you’ve been building this life for the past year, you’ve made your own habits, you have a favourite coffee shop, and a favourite market, and hell, you told me yourself about how your neighbour’s dogs even recognise you and come to play with you, so how can you not belong here?”

His words made me pout slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by Minho, who put his hands on my face and forced my lips in a smile.

“You’re so childish.” I started laughing at his antics, and he smiled kindly.

“And you also belong next to me and Nari. She’s been asking me to invite you to dinner practically every day, and it’s getting harder and harder to make up excuses on why you can’t come. She misses you, Jieun.”

“I don’t know, Minho. I’m still feeling so weird about… everything, really. I’m still confused about us.”

“What is there to be confused about?” He tilted his head. “I’m in love with you, it’s as simple as that.”

He confessed, and I had to blink a few times.

“What?”

“What? Why are you so shocked?” He laughed softly and leaned back. "I told you before that I have feelings for you."

“You did, but... You are so… direct.” I looked at him, confusion plastered all over my face. “I just didn’t expect you to say it so… causally.”

“I told you, Jieun. I want to be honest about my feelings from now on.”

“How come you haven’t changed your mind? I’ve ignored you this past month.”

“Ah, so it was on purpose!” He exclaimed, making me roll my eyes and laugh. “Jokes aside, of course I wouldn’t have changed my mind. If anything, I feel like I got to think way more about you, and us, and it’s made things so much clearer. If it was not fate that we met first on In the Dark, and then practically the second day in your classroom, I have no idea what fate is supposed to be.”

“It’s truly weird that things worked out like this, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, and I told you. You made me fall for you twice. The first time, slowly through your words and actions, when seeing how good you fit in with me and Nari and how much you add to our lives, and the second time, without even knowing who you are or what you look like, once again through your actions and the small details.”

“Damn, I’m pretty good, aren’t I?” I joked, but Minho nodded truthfully, his eyes full of praise.

“Now, of course, there’s also the chance that you don’t like me back, which, I mean, would pretty much suck, but I’d understand.”

“It’s obviously not that.” I rolled my eyes again, then looked at how he was manspreading on my sofa.

“Oh, yeah?” He challenged me, and it felt as if I was under a spell, because the next thing I did came naturally.

I shifted on the sofa and made my way over to him, supporting my hands against the backrest and hopping onto his lap, straddling him.

He raised an eyebrow and let out a smirk, and I could feel my heart beating faster and faster. Although we’ve been in this position a lot of times, even naked, it was the first time I was actually seeing him.

With another leap of courage, I grabbed his face in my hands and pressed a soft kiss against his lips.

“I do like you, Minho.” I said in a quiet voice. “I’m just insecure.”

“Do I make you feel insecure? Do you doubt me, or my feelings for you?” He asks, as quietly as me, and put his hand on top of mine, squeezing.

“No.” I shook my head. “It is I who makes me feel insecure. I don’t think I’m good enough for… for you.”

It was hard getting this confession out of my chest, but it’s one of the main reasons why I’ve been hesitant to let Minho in. While keeping my grandmother in the hospital, I’ve tried my hardest to not look down on myself. I tried rationalizing why I was selling my body, and it made sense, but now, with her gone and with way too much time to spare, my mind kept spiralling.

The same answers I’ve told Minho weeks ago during coffee were circling through my head repeatedly. If she were still alive, and if Minho wouldn’t have found out that I was Flame… what would I have done? Date him while cheating on him with Charisma - or God forbid, with another man - every other night just for some more money to pay the bills?

Everything weighted way too heavily, and I felt another pang in my heart and another headache settling between my temples.

“What do you even mean, Jieun?” Minho asked calmly, his voice soft. “You’re not only good enough. You’re perfect for me.”

As he said that, he moved his other hand closer to my face, rubbing the frown away from between my eyebrows.

“Are you looking down on me for visiting Flame through In the Dark?” He asked all of the sudden, checking my eyes for answers.

“What? Of course not!”

“Why not?”

“You had your reasons.”

“So did you. So stop looking down on yourself.” He moved both hands on my waist and kept looking into my eyes, and God, the way he was looking at me was so beautiful.

The whole moment felt intimate, despite the pain in my chest, and I could feel my heart thump harder. Things looked so easy from Minho’s perspective, so black and white, but my head was a mix of colours sprawled around all over the place.

“Please don’t doubt my feelings.” Minho shifted our bodies, sitting up straight and pressing me closer to his chest, while whispering in my ear.

His hands started dancing from my waist to my back, giving me goosebumps all over.

“I missed you.” He whispered again, pressing a small kiss on my collarbone, before raising his face to look at me.

“I missed you too.” I whispered back, kissing his lips.

“Yeah?” He asked, but this time, it didn’t sound challenging. It sounded genuine, and full of hope.

“You’re such a patient man, Minho. All these weeks of me ignoring your texts, and you still picked up and came here when I reached out.”

“Of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you for reaching out to me, Jieun. Please don’t pull away again.”

“I’m sorry.”

Minho smiled and kissed my lips again, and then hugged me tight, and the night witnessed our silent promises as we went to sleep embraced, and for the first time in weeks, I was able to get a good night's rest.

~

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[hehebread]

[BKDK] Izuku keeps mentioning a Kacchan to reporters and they think that's his gf

this was a request on twt that i had way too much fun writing. warning for suggestive language!

--

“And is there…. a special person….or a group of people you would like to thank on air today? Anyone who inspired you? Anyone you would attribute your success to? An image of victory per say?”

Izuku’s eyes glimmer as the bright lights of the studio reflect on his irises. “Oh!” He jumps in his seat, his perfectly- coiffed curls bouncing as he nods frantically to the show’s host. “Yes! Yes!” Leaning forward with his hands on his leg, the camera zooms in on his face where the blush is painting his cheeks. “I wouldn’t be the hero I am today if it wasn’t for Kacchan!”

And it’s as if an earthquake alert dropped on the talk show. The host grows this devious grin on his face as he turns to the camera team and says, “Well, well, well, behind every great man is a woman after all.”

Izuku isn’t quite sure why the host is bringing his mother into this since the interview is reaching its end and he has already discussed her influence in detail very early on, but he doesn’t get a chance to ponder.

The host, Yamaguchi-san, leans into Izuku’s space with renowned interest and an interesting glint in his eyes. Izuku feels himself sweating in his oversized maroon-striped suit.

“So, Midoriya-san, Hero Deku, Rising Symbol of Equity and Hope, can you tell us more about … Kacchan?” His voice goes higher at the last syllable, almost sing songs, and Izuku is not sure if he should be worried or not, but he won’t pass an opportunity to gush about Kacchan!

“Ah, Kacchan is very … confident, hardworking, strong, and smart. Kacchan is a hero who knows how to lead a team and perform under pressure, an inspiration to both myself and our entire graduating class, and a”—Izuku can feel the heat rise in his face as he tries to hide in his colour— “a shining star who was closer to me than All Might!”

The host makes a loud ‘AWWW’ noise at the same time as the small audience in the studio. “My, my! Sounds like Kacchan is very important to Hero Deku! Don’t be shy! Tell us more! Is there a physical description to go with your precious person?”

“Ahm!” Izuku fiddles with his fingers as he avoids the gazes on him. There a long beat of silence before he manages to say, “Muscles….Blonde…..Sharp eyes….” With a vague gesture to his middle section, he mumbles, barely audible, “Big, ugh…..” Heart.

“OOOOOOOOOH!” The host goes wild and so does the audience. “So are we talking Hiromi Oshima type big or maybe Rio Natsume, or aaaah Aki Hoshino even ….?”

Izuku feels his ears ring in humiliation as he tries to process what they’re talking about. Something Kacchan has in common with all these beautiful women is his big successful career so Izuku nods. “Yes!” Then, a thought occurs and he rises in his chair. “Even bigger!”

After all, Kacchan’s net worth is higher than these ladies.

“BIGGER?”

“The biggest!”

“Oh my god!” The host is losing his mind now! “And is it … natural? Or did Kacchan get a little help from professionals?”

“No, no, no! Kacchan was a natural ever since we were in school together!” Izuku’s eyes shine with a fire to defend his childhood best friend, no longer trying to hide in his big suit. “No one helped Kacchan get this big!”

“That’s … amazing!” The host shakes his head in both awe and disbelief. “Now we want to see Kacchan in action! When the hero works around the city, defeating villains, does the size get in the way?”

Does Kacchan’s fame get in the way of his work? “Sometimes,” Izuku muses, “But Kacchan never lets the restless and perky nuisances stop him, y’know. With a little shake from his hands, and a few colourful words of wisdoms, nothing gets in the way!” Izuku laughs as he remembers Kacchan’s way of dismissing fans and reporters alike.

“Wow!”

“Of course, there are times where Kacchan’s big firm moulds become springy and hard to control, but I have yet to see an instance where that has been a major issue. ”

Kacchan is still having some adjustment problems with his new hero costume, particularly his grenade mould, but that’s as far as distractions go.

“Does Kacchan not use support?”

“Uhm, only when it’s a dire situation! Sometimes I’m even allowed to provide assistance!”

“You must be very lucky…”

“I am! It feels … exciting and … very special! Kacchan doesn’t trust just anyone, y’know! I can never quite get used to the trust we built together. We are one unit working together.”

“Do you use your hands…. Or something else?”

“Oh, hands! Yes! But anything works really! Whatever Kacchan is comfortable with and needs at the time. Black Whip, combo moves, an iron grip...”

The host furrow his brows and seems to be considering Izuku’s answer before he opens his mouth again. “Uhm, never mind.” He then turns to the camera, smile back on. “Our time is almost running out! Thank you, hero Deku for your time! We look forward to seeing you again in the big screen!”

--

The next day, Izuku wakes up to the headline: Hero Deku And His Mysterious Busty New Girlfriend: The Beautiful and Spunky Kacchan!

He’s doomed

--

He sees Kacchan early the next day.

Having spent the morning talking to tabloids and the host show agents about the misunderstanding and whether or not it was possible to take down the episode at least, Izuku slumps his head on his desk in defeat.

Oh, this is very bad.

He starts thumping his forehead on the wood in sync with the bleeps noises in the phone, already planning his funeral in his head.

Okay, so it seems the suspense around this girlfriend is raking up his popularity, but god, at what cost.

“Nerd, we need to talk.”

Izuku’s soul near flies to the roof at the sound of the door to his office slamming close. Fuckfuckfuck.

Kacchan stands before him with his hand on his hip, teeth snarled and looking ready to tear his flesh open. Oh, this is going to be fun!

After flashing a haughty glare at the glass door to scare away the nosy friends hanging about, Kacchan continues, “About the interview.”

Of course! Yes! His final hour is approaching. “Haahahaha, what about it?” Izuku feels his undershirt cling to his torso, sweat collecting on his face. He directs a shaky hand to a nearby chair. “Feel free to take a seat, Kacchan! You want me to get you anything? Water, tissues, uhm, a knife, a body sized bag, or uhhh, a shovel? I think I have some spare sheets of paper if you’d like to give me a chance to—“

“So…” Kacchan starts.

“PLEASE TELL MY MUM I LOVE HER!”

“…this Kacchan, huh?” Having completely ignored every single word Izuku just said, Kacchan crosses his arms and scowls. “Is she strong? How come I never heard about her before? Since when did you start dating this gravure idol and pro hero, huh?”

“Wha—?”

“So, you just go around giving everyone pretty nicknames now?” Kacchan snorts and his expression darkens before he slams his hands on Izuku’s desk. He looks at Izuku from under his chin, and Izuku swear he can see flames behind his eyes. He growls, “What’s her actual name?”

An alarm bell rings in Izuku’s ears and he stutters, “Ka— Ka— Kat— Katsuko! Bakugan Katsuko…….”

Kacchan’s expression doesn’t change and Izuku feels his heart leap to his throat. God, Kacchan is gonna call his bluff at any minute now. He’s going to reject him then he’s going to break his heart and his bones.

“What’s she like?”

Kacchan shifts forward slightly and Izuku is just know noticing the ample cleavage in clear view. Right there. In front of Izuku’s face. “Uhm. Ah, she’s very, ugh, im- pec— impeccable!! And strong! Muscl— mature!! Breasty too – I mean, pretty! PRETTY!” Izuku bites his tongue then swallows thickly. “Beautiful, actually!” Lifting his gaze to meet Kacchan, he whispers, “Gorgeous. Just the most amazing person in my life.”

Kacchan is staring intently with his sharp red eyes, and Izuku feels his chest swell with confidence he never had before. “Kacchan is my inspiration, and I just … love … Kacchan so much. I wish I had the courage to tell him— um, her that.”

“Are you two serious?” Kacchan asks, impassive but there is silent rage hiding behind his words.

Something flashes quickly through Kacchan’s eyes before he narrows them. It takes Izuku a second to recognise that it’s /hurt/ and then he realise what he has just done.

“No, no, no!” Izuku backtracks immediately. “I don’t even know her that well! In fact, she kinda smells and definitely has sweating problem.” Izuku needs to do damage control and come clean NOW. “You know what? I will call her and break up with her right now. Ha ha ha.”

What the hell is he saying? Who is he going to call?

Kacchan stands up while Izuku fumbles with his phone. “Don’t be a dick,” he says, before he heads to the door.

Izuku jumps from his chair and is ready to chase after him when Kacchan stops him. “How big?”

“Huh?”

“You said Bakugan was big.”

Ah, yes, he did. Tragically.

“Um, y’know just…” Izuku motions with his hands like he’s moulding two doughballs, palms up and fingers wiggling because he’s lost control of his life once he accepted his funeral date, but that’s not even happening anymore so what is he doing really.

He then makes am hourglass shape in the air and belatedly realises that he’s just outlining Kacchan’s shape in front of him. Izuku retreats his hands and puts them behind his back in shame.

Kacchan is looking at him funny. Like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Does she shoot aerial bomb or something? Is that a combat-style quirk?”

Izuku blinks.

Kacchan just sneers and turns around.

“Whatever. I’m doing a photoshoot this afternoon. The Sekushī clothing line is dropping a new summer set and they asked me to model.”

“Se- Sekushi?? You mean, like—” Izuku feels his face go impossibly red. “You’re saying that, you’re going to wear, like…..” his voice goes down to a whisper when he says “…..a b-b-b-b-b-bikini?”

“Swimwear,” Kacchan turns to say over his shoulder, “Among other things.”

The sexy smirk he sends Izuku’s way is doing very, very weird things to Izuku’s body and imagination, things too inappropriate to describe in a work setting.

Kacchan leaves but not without offering the most dangerous challenge to Izuku’s mental wellbeing. “Feel free to drop in.”

Oh, he absolutely will.

“Bring Bakugon.”

Oh, he absolutely will not.

Actually….

Maybe, he will.

Kacchan is going to ruin Izuku

[tinyjeanmarco]

modern!porco x reader

okay, so, since i absolutely adore porco, i’m gonna write a little fluff that popped into my head. i just believe in porco supremacy so expect a lot of porco fluff from me lolol. but yeah! here goes modern!porco x reader where they had a little date planned, but reader has been overworking themselves with cramming for finals, so they fall asleep when the two were supposed to be going out! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ i uhm, think my writing needs work so i apologize if this isn’t the very best! <3

modern!porco x gn!reader

warnings: none

wc: 1,587 words

the date you had planned with your boyfriend was in two hours. that’s plenty of time to cram a little more before getting ready, plus you’re really behind as it is.

if you were honest, the whole date thing was stressing you out more than your work was. you already knew that you would be up to the wee hours of the morning studying, but you might have to be up even later now that you would be spending time on something other than your work.

you loved porco, of course, you would enjoy the time you two will spend, but you’re still anxious about it as all hell. you ignored the thoughts of your impending doom and tried to focus back on your textbook. that’s all that was going through your sleep deprived brain.

textbook, write notes, textbook, more notes, quiz yourself, textbook, more textbook.

you didn’t even notice when you fell asleep, face planting right into your open book.

your boyfriend, however, did notice when you didn’t show up to his place, and also didn’t respond to your texts and calls. the plan was to meet up at his apartment and then walk to your favorite diner so he could treat you and hopefully take your mind off things. that did not happen.

after the eleventh unanswered text, porco was greatly annoyed with you, but just a bit more worried than anything. he made his way over to your apartment, ready to grill you on why you won’t answer him. 

knocking on the door, he kept glancing at the time on his phone. it was almost an hour past the time you two had planned to meet up. unsurprisingly, you didn’t answer the door either.

worry and panic stirred in porco’s stomach. what if something happened to you while you were on your way to his place? shaking the thought out of his head, he pulled the spare key you had given him out of his pocket and proceeded to open the door.

“(Y/N)? i’m coming in.” he called out as he pushed the door open. the lack of response did little to help the growing panic in him, and rather solidified it. still however, he pushed it from his mind. you’re fine, you had to be.

calling out to you, he made his way through your apartment, searching for you. he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he spotted you in your room at your desk. asleep.

taking large strides across the room, he placed his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you, so as to not freak you out. didn’t work, but was worth a try. you shot up, eyes wide, whipping your head around.

“whuh? who? where am i?” you called out groggily. porco chuckled fondly, his hand finding its way into your hair, petting you gently.

“you were asleep at your desk, sugar. our date was supposed to be an hour ago.” your head cleared at his words, and guilt replaced the tiredness in your head.

“oh. porco, baby, i’m so-” he cut you off, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

“enough of that, you look like shit, darling. i’m just glad you were sleeping and not like dead in a ditch somewhere or something.” you sigh, pushing your chair away from your desk and getting up. you stretch and a few of your joints make a loud popping noise, causing porco to grimace.

“sugar, how long have you been sitting there?” he pulled your sluggish body into his chest.

“mmmph. i dunno, i fell asleep like two, three hours ago and before that, i was there for a few more hours. six in total at the least.” you mumble into his chest. porco’s heart clenches out of sympathy. “just lemme get ready and we can head out, pock.”

“oh. no, no, we’re not going anywhere now. we’re gonna stay here and take care of you because you can’t seem to find time to do it on your own.”

“wait, no, pock, i messed up, we can still go, i swear just let me- ah!” he startled you, picking you up and carrying you to your bed.

“alright, here’s the plan. i’ll run you a nice, hot bath, you get in said bath and while you’re doing that, i order some takeout and then we cuddle all night until we fall asleep.” he pressed dozens of tiny kisses to your face. you tried to protest again, but he wasn’t having it, pressing another kiss to your lips.

“you need a break. i don’t like seeing you so down and worn out. just let me be a good boyfriend and take care of you. no more studying tonight. just us, okay?” you sigh, relenting with a nod of your head. “thank you, sugar.” he pressed another kiss to the top of your head and set off to get a bath running for you.

you suppose a break could be good for you, after all you have been studying your ass off, running on barely three hours each night for a week now. it’s time to just stop and trust yourself in porco’s care. 

finally being in your bed, you lie back and listen to the sound of running water, feeling your eyes droop closed. you barely rested your eyes for two minutes when porco came back in your room to tell you the bath was ready. making your way to get up, porco halted your actions and instead picked you up just as he did earlier, and carried you to the sweet smelling bath water.

he took it upon himself to make you a bubble bath, and if you weren’t already madly in love with him, this would do the trick. porco helped you undress, and lower yourself into the tub.

“okay, now stay here, i’m gonna go order some food for us.” and with that he left the room, allowing you to soak in the warmth that surrounded you like a blanket. now that you’re actually relaxing, you are so glad that porco decided to make you do this. it had been a while since you just took time to care for yourself.

you leaned your head back, allowing yourself to just sink into the heat and melt away the stress. you almost missed the sound of porco coming back in the room. he settled himself on the floor right beside you.

“how are you feeling, dove?” 

heart skipping a beat at the use of the pet name he rarely uses, you mumbled out a response, “a little better. thank you for this, pock.” he grins, feeling accomplished. 

the two of you sad there, chatting softly for around twenty minutes before porco made movement to help wash you and get you out of the tub. drying you off, he slips his hoodie off and onto you. you blush, clutching the soft material closer to you, taking in the comforting scent of his cologne.

the blond takes you by the hand and tugs you to your front room, pulling you on his lap. his arms snaked around your center, pulling you impossibly closer to him. burying his face into the crook of your neck, pressing the softest kisses to the skin there. your boyfriend was the best when he was extremely clingy like right now. nothing is nearly as soft has him seemingly trying to absorb you and your essence.

the doorbell interrupted the silence you two had surrounded yourselves with, and your boyfriend made his way to the door, collecting your food and bringing it back. he told you to put on a movie of your choice as he set up everything on the table in front of the couch. 

at this point, you’re thanking yourself for falling asleep earlier, or you wouldn’t have gotten this night in with the one person you love the most.

the rest of the evening was spent in a heap of cuddles in front of the tv, watching movie after movie until you began to drift away to sleep in the safety and warmth of your beloved’s arms.

“baby,” you tugged on his shirt to get his attention, “ ‘m tired.” you mumbled out to him, nuzzling even deeper into his embrace.

“alright, sugar, let’s get to bed then, yeah?” you nodded in response, making your move to get up, but again, for the third time tonight, he made his move first, picking you up and carrying you. 

porco, being the best boyfriend ever, laid you down in your bed, tucking you in with a forehead kiss, and then going to clean up the living room. you were already half asleep when he came back in your room and slid into your bed right behind you, pulling your back snug against his chest.

“why are you still here? don’t you have to go home?” you ask into the darkness of the room.

pressing kisses into your neck and behind your ears, he replies, “not gonna leave my little sugar cube all alone tonight. gotta give you the best night of sleep ever, so that clearly means i’m here.”

you let out a chuckle before turning in his embrace, connecting your lips. your mouths slide together slowly. sparks fly everywhere, burning your soul with the love you have for this man. you pull apart with a smile on your face and dig yourself down into his chest.

“i love you, porco.”

“i love you too, (Y/N).”

[artisqueer]

RetroBangBoy AU - The Hangover (ao3)

Notes: 

hang·o·ver /ˈhaNGˌōvər/ noun 1. a thing that has survived from the past. Example: "a hangover from the fifties" 2. a severe headache or other after-effects caused by an excessive intake of alcohol or drugs

Characters: OT7

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Brief mentions of alcohol.

Jungkook wakes up parched, hungry, and with a pounding in his head. He pushes the covers off his face and down his chest. His long fluffy hair standing from the static of the sheets. He stretches out his arms above his head, dragging out a groggy yawn. It feels like he’s just woken up from a century-long nap. He looks up past his hands outstretched in the air. The posters above his bed are the same. He looks down, past his bare feet at the bottom of the bed. His drum set, books, and gadgets are all in their place too.

Huh…what year is it?

A heavy thump on the other side of the wall startles him out of bed. The crash is immediately followed by a low moan. Jungkook dashes out to the hall where Yoongi is already standing at the entrance of the bedroom next door. His eldest roommate chuckles behind a mug of coffee, head tilted 90 degrees to the side. Jungkook peers inside the room to see the source of the ruckus, his round head naturally tilts to the side as well. They both stand in the doorway, observing their housemate, Namjoon.

On the floor, upside down, legs folded over his shoulders.

“Where are we?” he asks as he looks up at them from between his thighs.

Yoongi shuffles back to the kitchen, holding his head in pain. “It looks like we’re not in Jeju anymore…” His voice is raspy and deep.

***

Jungkook’s round eyes bounce back and forth across their house, looking for clues to explain their current predicament. His head is throbbing with pain too. He suddenly remembers his thirst and runs to the kitchen for water.

Once Namjoon has restored himself to a perpendicular position, he joins them in the kitchen too.

“Why does my head hurt? Did we get shit-faced last night?” Jungkook groans into the kitchen counter.

“I can’t remember,” Yoongi grimaces between gulps of coffee.

“Is it a week-day? We have never gone out on a school night… I would never go out on a school night!” Namjoon folds his thick arms across his chest and blinks. “I’m so hungry.”

Jungkook turns away from the sink and his eyes pop at the sight. A whole ass meal, complaining about the lack of a meal...in the kitchen of all places. pls.

“Me too. We better go out for food. There’s nothing to eat here.” Yoongi says with very little energy.

“How can that be? I always stock up on groceries!” Namjoon frantically checks the cabinets and cupboards, finding them all bare.

“What the hell did we do?” The two eldest housemates look at one another, dumbfounded. Jungkook leans into the kitchen wall, aggressively chewing on his thumb. He's nervous, eyes big and wide. He opens his mouth to speak when the phone rings.

Ring ring ring.

Namjoon answers it, rather desperately. “Hello?”

“Good, you’re home.” The voice on the other end breathes out a sigh of relief. “It’s me. Taehyung. Emergency meeting. Your place. Now!”

***

“So, we’re all blacked out from yesterday. We have the worst hangover of our lives. And Bighead and Jin are missing…” Jungkook repeats as he paces back and forth the living room.

Hoseok enters the breakfast nook and sets down an extra-large pan of sunny side eggs and sausage. He steps back before the starved men wipe it clean.

“What’s gotten into you? You’re all so hungry today,” Hoseok scorns them as a smile grows on his lips. He’s thrilled that he finally gets to cook for them. Jin normally does all the cooking.

“You’re not going to eat?” Jimin asks him from behind a mouth full of food.

“I just don’t feel hungry,” Hoseok shrugs. He wipes his hands on his apron. “I brought us enough groceries to last through the week, so eat well.” Oddly, Hoseok has more energy than everyone in the room put together.

Taehyung speaks from the head of the table. “Guys, we’re not all blacked out—which is why I called everyone here..."

They look up at him from their plates, still eating like the food will be taken away if they stop.

"I remember everything.”

Jungkook interrupts. “Wait. Has anyone checked the date?!” He wiggles out of his chair and nearly trips running to the front porch, where the Sunday paper should be.

Having just eaten to the brim, Yoongi yawns and casually turns on the TV set, out of habit. The display does something completely new. Huh, TVs don't have color? Jimin and Hoseok are most mesmerized by this, moving to sit at the foot of the screen as a Coca-Cola commercial plays:

It's more than taste,

Bigger than a name,

As big as your best times,

As good as your best friends,

As real as the way you feel…

Jungkook runs back with the newspaper all spread out into disarray like his long dark hair. “Um…guys?”

There’s a long pause in the room.

“We’re not in the fifties anymore…”

What—

Their wide eyes look from him to the television and back. There’s only one thing that could mean coming from Jungkook…and it’s not good.

“We, uh, must’ve jumped twenty-seven years into the future,” he scratches the back of his round head. “It’s...1985.”

Taehyung clears his throat. “You guys will need to sit down for this. I can explain.”

***

They gather in the living room. Namjoon and Yoongi take up the couch, Jungkook sits on the floor between them, and Hoseok and Jimin share the love seat.

Taehyung’s knack for taking pictures and love for journalism make him a natural storyteller. His fine hands sway in the air as he talks. “You all have varying degrees of memory loss. For some very strange reason, I can remember everything that’s happened to us in the last 48 hours.”

Tae recounts their field trip and the events leading up to the portal inside the Manjjanggul Lava tube. How Jin wanted to hide the portal from the lab, Heaven Inc., but Jungkook wanted to destroy it. How Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi stormed the cave clearing as Jungkook was opening the portal gate. How Namjoon and Jin fought each other as the cave collapsed. And most importantly, how they were all unexpectedly pulled into the warp after Jungkook. All, except Jin and their beloved Bighead.

Their memories start coming back to them, piece by piece. Oddly, it’s as though only Taehyung could trigger their recollections.

“I don’t understand.” Namjoon finds his glasses and puts them on. Suddenly, he looks more like a professor than a biker. Big-tiddied mathematician. “Why is Taehyung the only one who remembers what happened?”

Taehyung thinks for a moment before an unusual blush forms at his cheeks. “Probably ‘cause I appreciate art. So, I remembered.”

“Uhm, ok. And why doesn’t Hoseok have hangover symptoms like the rest of us?” Yoongi crosses his arms, which seemingly grew thicker in the micro-span of the jump.

Hoseok vibrates from his place next to Jimin. His bright smile radiating through the room. “Ooh, I know I know. ‘Cause I’m your hope! Everyone was totally beat, but I could give you my energy. Like sunshine to a dying plant or light at the end of a dark tunnel or a—”

“—mOtH tO a FlAmE,” the rest mock. Apparently, no one forgot Hoseok’s notorious house party pick-up lines. They all laugh.

Could this be? Do some of the jocks have certain abilities now? What about the bikers?

“We have another problem: where is Sweetcheeks, and Seokjin?” Taehyung seems frustrated.

“And another problem: why did we all get warped with Jungkook in the first place?” Jimin pouts. “What about our families, and my—”

“—Cat! Your cat! Cats have nine lives. For three they play, for three they stray and for the last three, they stay. Why...did I just say that? It feels so familiar, so stran—” Yoongi stops talking out loud, resorting to mumbling to himself instead. He quickly grabs the paper from Jungkook and begins searching it for something.

The others continue to talk over each other, flooded with their worries and bits of things they’re starting to remember. The upcoming homecoming game, the unattended house parties, mourning parents, exams, etc.

“Quiet!” Namjoon’s clear and booming voice silences the room.

“I don’t know,” Jungkook fiddles with his tattooed fingers. “I-I don’t know why I dragged you all here with me. That’s what I have to figure out. I will figure it out. I promise. I’m worried too. If Bighead and Jin didn’t get warped here with us, maybe they, they ended up in a different d—” they sit in silence, thinking the worst.

“No no, that can’t be,” Namjoon reassures. “Given everyone’s memory lapse and their expert recklessness, they may have just wandered off.”

“We have to go back,” Jungkook says. “We have to go back to 1958.”

“How? We’re stuck here,” Yoongi deadpans, his nose still in the paper.

“Actually,” Jimin recalls, “on my way over here I stopped by the coffee shop…and um…well my boss didn’t recognize me at all. He didn’t even know my name.” Jimin’s worries grow. It’s unlike Jimin to walk down the street without a single greeting. He is—was—very popular.

“It's starting to make sense...” Jungkook says under his breath.

“What does, Jungkook.” Namjoon’s jaw does the thing.

“People don’t recognize us in this place because,” he pauses, “because we’re not from here. I don’t mean this town, I mean, this dimension.”

Namjoon presses a finger to his lips, thinking.

“We should pick new names and find temporary jobs. To blend in. We can't go back to school, we don't have identification. We need the money anyway,” Yoongi advises, “to support ourselves while Jungkook figures out a way back.” Yoongi seems to have become incredibly wiser after the jump. He peels the paper apart, pen in hand, circling jobs from the employment section. He looks up from the paper again. “How did I know to say that?”

“Whoa, are you like, a genius now?” Jimin sasses, as much to tease him as to distract from the impending doom that is being stuck in the future.

“No.” Yoongi scoffs, withholding a severe blush. “It’s like I’ve read all the books at the library, and lived nine lives since we left 1958. I just, know things.”

Namjoon nods in agreement. “It’s the best plan we’ve got. If twenty-seven years have passed since our “disappearance”, then our sudden re-emergence could bring unwanted attention, or worse…”

“Could someone still be looking for us after all years?” Jimin asks Tae. Hoseok instantly understands and wraps him in a comforting embrace.

“We need to sort this out as quietly as possible. Let’s keep low profiles until we figure out a way to get back to 1958. I don’t want us to get tangled in loose ends.” Namjoon sighs somberly. Being the leader of the biker gang has made him a suitable leader for whatever mish-mosh-of-a-gang this is now. “We’re in a different dimension and we don’t entirely know what that means. It could be dangerous, but as long as we stick together we will be okay. My priority is to keep us all safe.”

At this declaration, all eyes sparkle. Especially, Jungkook’s.

“I got us here, Joon. You can trust me to find us a way home,” Jungkook gets up from the floor, making for the door.

“Stop!” Jimin interrupts. “We can’t go out dressed like this.”

They look down at their clothes. They are still in their 50s outfits.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Yoongi puts down the paper and pouts.

Hoseok pounces off the sofa, “YES! New clothes…get up get up! We’re off to the mall!” He tosses his apron aside and leads them out the front door. Namjoon and Yoongi groan, dragging their feet toward the back of the group.

Jungkook smiles ear to ear. Maybe the world is not quite right, but everything he truly wants is right here with him.

[ohmyitsfaith]

50 days of learning love/Part 1

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: After surviving the apocalypse, you try to survive in the dusty and lonely world. But it has been five years and you’re losing hope of ever living normal again.

Warnings: It’s fucking long. Also language. And slight angst.

Word count: 3.1k

A/N: Hey! I was bored on online class, so I decided to write. Hope you’ll like it :)

You never expected to see an apocalypse in your time on Earth. You thought you’d be fine. That your family would be fine. But none of that happened. For some reason you were lucky enough to survive. How? You don’t even know it yourself. But you were fine, living on Earth, only by yourself. Not a single soul on the horizon. Just endless destruction.

That went on for weeks. Or months. Or years. After a while you lost count. Everyday was the same. Nothing has changed. Except for maybe the fact that the fires stopped. But you were still alone.

Until one day, when you started losing hope permanently. You saw a dark dot moving in the distance. You stood up from your little seat and squinted, hoping to see better. You kept your breath in as you waited for the dot to get closer. And as it got closer, it became clearer. It was a teenage boy, not older than you. Around maybe 17 or 18.

You were shocked to see someone else here after all those years, spent alone. But you were more than happy. As the boy came closer and closer, you went to see the miracle for yourself.

“Hello there” you said with a raspy voice from not using it for so long.

He looked at you with fire burning in his eyes.

“Who are you?”

“A survivor?” you asked taken aback.

“Congratulations. You’re alive. What do you want?” he asked.

“Woah, hey buddy, it’s been five years and haven’t seen a human since. Don’t you think you should be nicer since we’re literally the only two beings alive?” you said now mad.

“I don’t have time for this” he said dismissively.

“Oh, yeah you have! There’s literally nothing here. It’s the end of the world! You have all the time in the world!”

“No, I really don’t! I have to get back!” he argued.

“Oh, really? And how do you plan on that?” you asked not believing him.

“Time travel” he said.

“How?”

“You don’t have to know that.”

With that he continued his way. You stood there for a bit, but then you followed him.

“You seem familiar” you tried to start a normal conversation.

He sighed, clearly irritated.

“Wait! Of course! You said time travel, so you must have some kind of power! Say, aren’t you from the Umbrella Academy?” you asked.

“Wow, you’re so smart” he said sarcastically.

“Well, rude” you rolled your eyes. “Which one are you?”

“Can you just leave me alone?” he asked.

“Would you rather be alone in this ruined world than have someone else on your side keeping you from going totally insane?” you asked shocked.

“Frankly, if the only person is this annoying, yes” he said.

“Well I’m gonna tell you the harsh truth. You’re not the greatest company either, but guess what? We’re the only ones in the whole world. So either you need to get used to it or get out” you said seriously, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Fine” he said angrily, staring into your soul.

You two stared into each others eyes, until he decided to turn away and continue his way to… somewhere.

“Asshole” you muttered just loud enough in the deafening silence for him to hear it.

“It’s Five!” he said back.

You rolled your eyes and went back to your place for the night. But you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing about Five. He was definitely from the Umbrella Academy, but what could he do? You thought about the fact that he mentioned time travel, but surely, he wasn’t that smart. Although you couldn’t know that of course.

Meanwhile Five only got like 300 meters when he stopped and thought about your words. Truly you guys were the only ones on Earth. Maybe it was worth a shot. And so went the first day and night.

On the second day’s morning, you started your routine. You got up, got your bag, that you found sometime after the fires stopped and went on the trip to find food and some water.

But this day, you were stopped by a very grumpy, very serious Five.

“If we stay together, you’ll need to listen to me. There are limited amount of food and water on the whole Earth and we have to be smart. Every week or so we need to change our location to make sure to get every last bit of it. Not too much talking, otherwise we’ll go on each other’s minds” he said.

“Good morning to you too” you rolled your eyes. “And what do you think what have I been doing for 5 years? I’m not dumb” you said and walked around him to continue your way to wherever that day would take you.

You heard Five sigh and you fell back as he spatial jumped in front of you. As he did that, he almost collapsed, being truly exhausted.

“You… you can teleport?” you asked, shocked.

“Li-listen here. I don’t know when we’ll get out of here. Or if we get out of here. But. We need to stick together. We’ll never get out if we don’t” he said panting.

“Wait, so if you can teleport, then… you can time travel too? This is how you got here!” you realized.

“Yeah” he nodded.

“So you can just get us out of here!” you looked at him suddenly more hopeful than ever in those 5 years.

“It’s not that simple! I can’t just jump back! We can mess up the time-space kontinuum and we’ll never fix that! We need to… I need to work out the equation. Then I can maybe, just maybe! Get us out of here” he said seriously.

You nodded and swallowed, taking it all in. Then you got up.

“I’m Y/n” you said softly.

Five nodded and got his trunk and you guys started on your trip to find food and water.

After walking for hours under the bright sun and finding nothing, you stopped for a bit after finding a bit of shadow. You got out the small flask from your bag and offered it to Five. Five looked at you and took the flask. He drank a few gulps of water and gave it back to you.

“Thank you” he said.

You nodded and drank a bit from it too. Then put the flask back to the bag. You looked up at the sky and just watched the sky for a while.

“What happened?” you asked.

“I messed up” he confessed. “I got into something I wasn’t ready for at the time. I acted on impulse, without thinking.”

“And now you’re stuck” you nodded.

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I don’t know. It just happened. I don’t remember anything. My first memory was waking up and seeing the world on fire. It was hot. And I saw so many…” you stopped, not wanting to say it. “I couldn’t do anything. I was stuck there, alone.” you looked at him.

“Well that must have sucked” he said.

He understood it and offered you sympathy. In his own… Five way. You nodded and looked back in front of you. Then sighed and got up.

“Come, we need to find food.”

He nodded and got up with the help of you and you continued on you way. You walked for hours again, before finding a bit of food, just enough for the two of you. The sun was still up, only being halfway on its route, you guys continued searching, hoping for anything. Clothes, food, water, anything.

And you found exactly that. You found a day’s worth water, enough food for the day for you two to not die and half of a blanket. You didn’t complain though, that was more than you hoped for. And when night came, you guys got back to the place you stayed that week.

And so went the second day and night.

The third day started with the difference of Five being next to you in the dust. You sighed and looked back up to the sky. It was very early and in a normal situation you wouldn’t have woken up. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

Five’s groan made you look at him. He was waking up.

“Good morning” you said as he turned towards you.

“Good morning” he mumbled.

“We’ll have a sandstorm today” you said casually.

“How do you know?” he asked.

“Look at the sky on the left” you pointed. “The bottom of it is grey with a bit of brown. It’s coming, so we should probably start to get going.”

“Then let’s get going” he said, sighing.

You both got up and got your few belongings. Your first thought was that you should go to hole where you survived your most sandstorms. But Five thought differently. He thought you should find the most stable building ruin and stay there until the storm ends.

“But what if we don’t find anything? Then we’re stuck out in the fucking sandstorm! Five! Would you just think for a second?” you asked, totally mad.

“Yeah, but we have more luck in surviving in a fucking ruin than surviving in a hole!” he said irritated.

“Give me one good reason why I should trust you” you looked at him.

“Because if we do this, we survive. We’ll have a bigger place, than in the hole.”

“Well at least if we die, I’ll blame you” you rolled your eyes, have had enough of the arguing.

Five rolled his eyes and started walking. You didn’t speak a word and walked as fast as you could to find shelter before the storm caught up to you. But when the sky started to darken, you looked up at the sky, worried.

“Uhm… Five?” you called his name.

“What?” he asked.

You grabbed his arm and pointed at the sky. His eyes widened and he grabbed your hand and started running. The sandstorm got closer and bigger. It towered over your heads like a huge wave. You were running as fast as you could, to get somewhere safe, before tragedy struck. Five reacted fast, when he saw a good enough place and  to the ruin. You did everything to make it as safe as it can be. I was just in time, because the sandstorm reached you. You sat down on the ground and looked up at the ceiling. Five was double checking everything.

“I hate this” you murmured. “I really fucking hate this.”

Five looked at you.

“Yeah, well we’re stuck. The only choice is to survive.”

“What’s the point? Huh, Five? What if we’ll never get back? This Earth is doomed! Just like we are! We might as well just die now and save ourselves the pain!” you looked at him seriously.

“We’ll get back! Have a little faith, okay?” he rolled his eyes.

“How? You’re constantly exhausted because sleeping on the dirty, the half burn mattress is just as bad as sleeping on the floor! You can’t even spacial jump! You don’t have enough energy. So how would you have enough energy to time travel? Because maybe, you could get out, but I would be stuck here, no matter what! I don’t have powers like you or any kind of power for that matter!” you ranted, totally lost all hope.

Five looked at you with emotionless face, but you could see the fight in his eyes. But he didn’t say anything just sat down on the ground next to you. He sighed and looked around in the dark. You did the same too.

You sat there for hours, in the darkness, alone with your thoughts, until both of you fell asleep.

And so went the third day and night.

“We ran out of food. Also we really should try to keep up our hygiene as much as we can” you sighed.

The storm was still raging on as you both woke up. You felt more tired than when you fell asleep. Although the sky was still kinda dark, but it was better when it struck. You were bored and needed to go out even if it was dangerous.

“You can’t go out, it’s too dangerous” he sighed.

“But we don’t have food!” you looked at him.

“We’ll survive” he said, looking at you.

“No, we won’t! Who knows how long will the storm last! Come on Five, just think!” you said.

“Y/n, please stop. The storm won’t last too much anymore. We’ll have enough time” he looked straight into your eyes.

You stared into each other’s eyes until you broke eye contact and got your bag. You pulled the scarf in front of your nose and mouth and turned away from Five.

“Did you hear anything I just said?!” he called after you.

“I did. I simply don’t care” you looked at him for a sec, then headed out, carefully so the sand didn’t go to the hiding place.

You walked through the storm, breathing slowly and in the silence, the only thing that was in your mind was Five and his voice and words. He was right. You probably would’ve survived. But you couldn’t stand the awkward silence with him. At least out here the only thing that gave sound other than your thoughts was the storm. And you’d rather be alone than know that Five is next to you, but wouldn’t talk.

So you walked, and walked, until you found a small place, where you found some (not healthy nor filling) food. But it was more than nothing. So you headed back. The storm was still on and although it seemed like it was near its end, you knew that it would go on for a few hours, possibly until late afternoon.

While you were heading back, Five was fuming. He was angry, ‘cause you didn’t listen to him, but also he was scared he’d lose you and deep down he knew it, even though he wouldn’t have admitted it if you asked. He was pacing, when an hour passed and you didn’t arrive back.

“Why didn’t they listen to me?!” he mumbled. “Why couldn’t they just stay?”

Five of course knew that until some extent, you were right, but still! He was more right and that was what mattered.

So when you fell back to the safe place, he decided to give you the silent treatment. He was mad, that you didn’t listen to him and you were mad, that he was mad. It was a big bunch of madness. Like literally.

Your prediction was right. The storm stopped in the late afternoon and you guys headed back to your base, where you put down everything and cleaned off the sand as much as you could. Five still wasn’t talking to you and you guys ate in silence. Then you cleaned your face and hands in the small dirty puddle which kinda made it even worse, but it was more than nothing.

And so went the fourth day and night.

The fifth day started just like the others. You woke up, ate a bit, drank a bit and then put together your stuff and started on your journey. Five finally spoke to you, even if it was only the ‘thank you’ and ‘good morning’ that he probably only said, because he was raised to say them.

But as you walked through the town to find more useful stuff, you tried making a conversation…

“When are you going to give up the silent treatment?” you asked.

…only for it to fall on deaf ears.

“Come on, Five!” you pleaded.

When he didn’t answer, you decided on a different approach.

“Okay, then, I’m going to talk until you snap back, because I talk way too much. Did you know I was a grade A student? Most of my tests and exams were As or at the very least B+. Until the fucking Moon decided to blow up and set Earth in flames. That was epic by the way. Seeing as a big asteroid is coming towards Earth. But it was also scary, because, like it was coming towards us. Lucky, that you weren’t there. It was freaky. Anyway, I have no fucking idea why I survived. Maybe I was meant to help you here? Or maybe I was meant to keep you company. Or I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hey, did you know I was born on the same day as you? I-” you talked fast and about anything that got into your mind.

“Wait, what?” Five stopped you. “You were born on the same day as us?” he asked.

“Yeah October 1st″ you said smiling smugly.

“Which year?” he asked.

“2006” you said.

“But I don’t understand it” he shook his head. “Seriously, how did you survive?

“Oh, dear Five, like I said, I don’t know. But I did” you shrugged. “Ooh! Look!”

You stopped and pointed at a hole in the ground.

“What?” he looked at where you pointed.

“A box, you idiot!” you said. “Whatever’s in it, we have a win.”

“Y/n, no” he sighed.

“Y/n, yes!” you said, dropping your stuff on the ground and you climbed into the hole and opened the box.

“Told you not to” he said with an ‘I told you so’ look on his face, when there was nothing in it.

“Shut up Five” you murmured and tried to climb up.

“What was that?” he asked, looking down at you.

“Five” you whined.

“Hm, well if you don’t need my help…” he shrugged and stood up.

“No, Five, please, don’t leave me” you said, looking at Five with the puppy eyes.

“That’s real cute” he said, not answering to the look. “Still not helping you though.

“Come on, pwease, help me” you didn’t give up.

“What’s in it for me?” he asked.

“Uhm… um… you… can have my turn on the mattress!” you said quickly.

“Hm…” he looked down at you, like he was considering it.

“For the next… week! You can have the mattress for a week!” you said, hoping that it would convince the smug bastard.

“I don’t know…”

“Please, Five” you said quietly, almost whispering.

He sighed and he bent his knees and reached for you. With both of your effort, you were out of the hole and sitting on the ground.

“Thank you” you said. “I thought I was going to die in there.”

“Stop being dramatic and come on! We have stuff to do” he said and started walking.

You smiled and got up, grabbing your things.

And so went the fifth day and night.

[Masterlist] [Next]

[wastelandcrown]

all’s fair in fake love and gore

CHAPTER 1: (un)predictability

Summary: Roman and Patton have been dating for a while, and it’s fine. Remus doesn’t care. Unfortunately, it’s another excuse for his family to put Roman on a pedestal. Except that, through a turn of events nobody expected, Remus ends up pretending to be madly in love with his close friend Logan for his family’s holiday trip. Both parties are convinced nothing will happen between them. Roman and Patton, however, are terrible meddlers who believe in the power of love.

Warnings: Potential ooc behavior, Lightly tense family dynamics, Remus being Remus, OCs for family members (If I miss something please tell me!)

Notes: Listen-I hate the holidays but I live for this trope. I’ll try my hardest to do it justice and make it work. Name was suggested to me by the lovely @grayskiesrainyskies, thank you ma’am!!

Pairings: Intrulogical, Royality, Creativitwins

Two hours. It’s just two more hours. He’s reasoning with himself against all odds, but the urge to slam his head against the dining table is palpable and he’s barely holding it together. Remus had always hated family dinners, he hadn’t even bothered going up until recently. Adulthood was messy. Family was messier. More accurately, Remus was the mess of the family. Roman and him had long since mended their relationship, they even hung around in the same circle! That only made it worse when Roman and their mutual friend Patton started dating. It’s not that he wasn’t happy for them, he was. Their fluffy, happy, fairy-tale romance was something out of some god damned Disney movie, and Remus was so happy someone put up with Roman’s hopeless romanticism. Except now, because the family loves Patton.

He’s spent the entire night being as family friendly as he possibly could. It was a tiring effort to be dressed up like a “normal person”, without any makeup or accessories, and placating the old fleabags that he happened to be related to. Even then, he got the typical onslaught of negative attention. He didn’t even care. He didn’t, he really really didn’t. What made the dinner so wildly unbearable was Patton’s existence. He got along with everyone in the family, helped out with cooking, set the table, watched the kids, and was entirely sweet and rated-G. The family doted on him. Remus and Roman’s parents told Roman that Patton was “the one”. Both pairs of grandparents called him a “sweet young man” who was “the perfect homemaker for Roman”. Ugh. Perfect Roman, perfect Patton, and their perfect romance. 

Dinner came, and now the family can’t seem to stop asking them happy little questions. The kids table even came over with the occasional curiosity about Patton and Roman. Remus could tell Roman’s calm and polite demeanor was shattering around question thirty. Even Patton was tired at question fifty. Then Aunt Patty had to open her stupid mouth.

“Well Patton,” She says with a wide smile, “You really are such a great young man! It’s quite the blessing that you’re with Roman.”

There it is. That’s what Remus has been waiting for all night. 

“Aunt Patty, please,” Roman mutters, putting his head in his hands.

“Uhm, I’m not really sure what you mean!” Patton laughs nervously, genuinely confused about what she means. 

The table laughs, and Aunt Patty continues, “Oh, well, I just mean that you chose the right twin!”

Roman succumbs to the urge and lets his head slide onto the table, his hands are behind his head and squeezing at his neck. Patton stares at Aunt Patty like she’s gone mad. Remus slips his butter knife off the table and stabs the back of his hand with it. It hurts, but skin doesn’t break. Most of the table laughs. His parents, his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his adult cousins. They all laugh at the prospect of someone so nice dating someone like Remus. He stabs his hand again, harder this time.

His mother pipes up next, and Patton looks as if he’s going to lose his mind, “It’s a blessing really! If Remus brought someone home they’d probably be crazier than he is!”

“We really are lucky he doesn’t keep partners around for long!” Says his grandfather, and the table laughs again. Remus stabs his hand again.

He can see the gears of Patton's brain working as Roman sits up, “Guys,”

There’s something dangerous behind Patton’s eyes, “Can we please,”

Patton smiles in a way that makes Remus panicky, “Just leave Remus alone?”

He’s got a devious plan, and Remus can tell by the way he places a soft hand on Roman’s shoulder.

He brightly says, “See, Remus, this is why I told you you should have brought him!”, while making the most innocently intense eye-contact Remus has ever had. 

Patton has been spending way too much time with Janus. 

Everyone goes silent. Even the kids, which is a miracle. Remus stabs himself in the hand for the fourth time, the skin breaks. His blood gets onto the sleeve of the white button-up Roman lent him. 

“Remus,” His father speaks very softly, “Do you have a partner?”

Patton smiles at him again, he thinks it over once or twice, “Yeah, what about it?”

“Why didn’t you bring them?” His mother asks with excitement clear in her voice.

Remus scowls, and everyone knows why, “You literally just fu-freaking laughed about his mere existence.”

One of his uncles clears his throat and breaks the silence, “H-How long have you been with them?” 

“Six months.” Remus lies, he hopes the three of them can act well enough to pull it off.

That amount of time is five months longer than any of his previous flings, and his parents erupt into dramatic cries, “You haven’t told us after half a year!”

“I told Roman and Patton!” He yells back, turning back to his food and shoving some in his mouth to angrily chew.

“Roman! Patton! Who is it? Do we know him? Is it serious?” His father has stood up and has leaned over the table to interrogate the pair. 

“Do-” Roman starts, and Remus knows he’s doomed, “Do you remember my friend, Logan?” 

Remus kicks Roman under the table. As hard as he possibly can. His father stops moving, his mother drops her fork. 

“You’re lying.”

“He’s not!” Patton chirps, “None of us expected it either but they’re very cute together!”

“Is Logan that stuck-up boy from their high school graduation who kept talking about following the proper protocol?” His grandma asks with a surprisingly shocked expression.

“That’s the one!” Roman points as he speaks, then the entire family has their eyes on Remus again. 

“What? Are you looking for some explanation or something? He’s smart and he’s hot and he respects my choices,” Remus scoffs out, getting out of his chair and taking his plate to the kitchen, “I’m not talking about this anymore.” 

Patton and Roman follow him into the kitchen with their plates. As he scrapes his plate into the trash, he gives Patton the most intense glare. 

“Remus, I’m so sorry-” Patton pauses, and snatches him by the hand, “Did you stab yourself!?”

The next two hours, nobody brings anything up. It’s a breath of fresh air to have them shocked into respecting his damn privacy. Family leave or head to bed. The only people left awake when the trio are leaving are the twins' parents.

“What do you want, dad?” Remus asks when his father approaches.

His father gives a smile that he assumes was supposed to be warm, and opens his mouth to speak.

“Dad, Remus and I should really be going,” Roman cuts in, probably to try and save Remus from a potentially foreboding conversation.

Roman is pushing Patton and Remus towards the door, their dad chuckles. They must look fairly comedic with Roman angrily pushing against their backs as they stand without budge.

“Remus, you know the family’s winter trip is coming up,” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” He rolls his eyes, and Patton smacks him upside the head.

“Your mother and I would like to extend the invitation to Logan, to get to know him.”

The room is so silent, you can almost hear Aunt Patty snoring in the guest room. Despite everything, Remus can’t bring himself to just say “no” to this offer. The family Cabin is huge, beautiful, quiet, and has a very nice library. Y’know, rich people shit. It really does seem like something Logan would love under different different circumstances. 

He agreed to ask, but he was sure Logan would say no.

“No.”

Called it. Remus knew that even if himself, Roman, and Patton groveled and begged, Logan was not going to budge.

“Logan! It’s only two weeks!” Roman pleads.

“You need a break anyway! What’s more relaxing than being my little boytoy!” Remus grumbles, he’s only partially joking. Logan does need a break, he can tell.

“Okay but have you seen their cabin?” Patton asks in the innocently excited way he tends to do.

That piqued Logan’s interest. He looks at Patton and inquisitively moves his eyebrow vaguely upwards. Roman opens up a folder on his phone of photos from the cabin. There are nearly two hundred, but each photo is whittling down Logan’s resolve. He thinks again about their neat little family library. The fairly large room goes almost entirely unused, only with two exceptions. Remus, and long past on Gran-Gran. Remus remembers sitting on his great-grandmother’s lap while she read to him countless stories. She didn’t mind his weirdness. Logan didn’t mind much either. He’d be alone with hundreds of books for three weeks, what more could he want? He’d just have to let Remus sit in. 

“You know,” Remus leans in, whispering into Logan’s ear very gently, “We’ve got a big library.”

That’s what breaks Logan, who lets out the longest sigh Remus has ever heard in his life.

He agrees to go on two conditions. He will have physical contact with Remus but he will not kiss him, and he gets the make up the story of how the pair met. Remus couldn’t be more ecstatic. His family could suck it! He had a sexy ass fake boyfriend, who's probably gonna make up some dumb and adorable story about meeting in at a Library Book Club Meeting. Logan’s hot, he’s hot. It will work out. No strings attached. None. 

Roman jokes to Remus everyday before the trip that we all know how the trip will end. Remus thinks he’s more unpredictable than that. He hopes he is. 

[impaladolan]

Capture - Grayson Dolan [5/-]

summary: a flash from the past, present, and future, Y/N is startled awake from her almost too-real dreams by her one and only capturer, whose similarities to the boy in her dreams are uncanny... or are they...

warnings: fluff, kinda

a/n: how are we liking the continuation so far?

"It's only a couple more minutes from here." Grayson says, trudging through the dewy grass while I follow in suite behind him. I wasn't sure where we were going, or why, but I faintly remember talking about a nighttime adventure earlier this morning.

I just didn't know he meant so soon.

But I trust that boy with all my heart, no questions asked. He’s been my neighbor for years and frankly, my first love. Although, he doesn’t know that yet.

I watch him as he walks in front of me, his head held up high that only one of his small little smirks could hold. He seemed so brave and unafraid, while I was frightened by the trees around me. They were tall, drooping, and overall spooky. But the subtle warmth from just the thought of Grayson being here with me, faded all my worries away.

“Here, hold my hand.” He suggests, stopping in his tracks and reaching his hand out for mine. I gladly take it, a small blush decorating my cheeks. Luckily it’s too dark to see. “Be careful, we’re almost there but this path is tricky.” I coherently nod my head to his words, gripping his hand a bit tighter and watching my steps a little closer.

I keep quiet, focusing on all the rocks and branches that surround the area. It’s seems like Grayson walks with so much ease while I struggle to keep up. “Grayson! Slow down!” I giggle, wrapping my other hand around our combination of skins. He quickens his pace, chuckling as he looks behind to see my struggle. “Grayson!” I trip over what almost looks to be a boulder, my body flying forward. I scream, starring at the sharp rock I’m about to come in contact with, and I know I’m doomed.

Before the sharp and pointy piece of the rock hits between my eyes, I feel a warm grasp wrap around my abdomen and pull me upwards. My yelling subsides as my body is pulled back to a stable and stationary position, in front of the luckily strong Grayson himself.

“You’re an Asshole, Grayson.” I frown, crossing my arms. His grip slid to my hips as he assured himself that I was steady, but his small touch did send a plethora of tingles down my sides, and it made me feel so gitty and forgetful of the moments before.

“Sorry, but we’re just about there, princess.” My heart fluttered at the name. Whether it was meant to be an insult or not, it sounded nice rolling off his tongue. He rewraps his hand around mine and walks slower than before in the same direction we were walking. I throw back a yawn as I reminisce on the late hour at hand, but the excitement still swirls through my body.

I truly don’t know where he’s taking me.

Our feet soon collide with a much more smooth path, rather than the rough one I almost fell in before. We come to a sudden stop, complete darkness shuttering the moon’s brightness around me. “Wait right here, I gotta check something.” He whispers, letting my hand go and walking a few steps in front of me. He seemed to be peeking through a branch of leaves, but I couldn’t exactly tell.

“Okay now, close your eyes and walk a couple steps forward.” He directs, his voice still only above a whisper. I shake my head and cross my arms in fear. “I’ll fall again, Gray.”

“No you won’t, it’s only a couple steps.” His soothing voice calms me immediately. I largely sigh, slowly stepping forward, like he told me to, and I come in quick contact of him. I hear shuffling of branches and leaves, and I could feel his excitement from underneath my eyelids.

“Okay, open.” I quickly open my eyes, adjusting to the new light and surroundings.

Wow.

The full moon shown on the beach front, the waves crashing softly and the breeze running through the trees slightly. I travel my gaze down to the large, checkered blanket on the sand, an already lit lantern sat there and food spread around.

“G-Grayson, how-how did you do this—“

“Ethan did help me, but I’ve been planning this for awhile.” He shyly smiles, taking my hand to guide me to his creation. We both take off our shoes and settle down, as I remain speechless and overjoyed.

“Grayson, this is wonderful.” My eyes couldn’t stop wandering around, taking in all of this detail. Every romance movie or book I’ve ever read or watched to this day could never compare to this.

If there was any moment to tell him that you loved him, the time is now.

“Can I, uhm, admit something to you?” I wearily ask, fidgeting with the ends of my pajamas.

“Of course, Y/N, I need to too..” He does the same as he begins to move around a bit, in what seemed to be a mixture of nervousness and excitement. I swallow a deep breath, exhaling slowly and rerunning the words in my head.

“Grayson, I think I love you. And, I have for the longest time. Ever since you’ve been neighbors with me, I’ve always had feelings. Oh god, I’m embarrassing myself, aren’t I?” I facepalm my forehead, shutting my eyes tightly.

“That’s funny, because I feel the same for you.”

"Y/N?"

"Y/N, wake up." A hushed tone spoke in your ear, like an orchestrated melody in an empty room. Your eyes slowly opened, darkness still surrounding you but the warmth beside you made it relaxing. "What were you dreaming about?" He asked with a childish curiosity, tucking a hair soothingly behind your ear. Your heart skipped a couple beats and the hairs on your arms rose, but you remained composed.

"I can't really remember, something about the moon." You reply, yawning during the process. It was too normal feeling, like the two of you were used to beaming up in each other's grasp. You can't even remember when he had even gotten in your bed, but you didn't necessarily mind it..

You look up into his eyes, a striking similarity to someone that you’ve known before, but you just couldn’t recollect who, exactly. “What’s you name, Capturer.” You gaze upon him, his warmth and protection all too familiar as well.

“Capturer, huh? I kinda like the ring of it.” He looks up, smiling at the name you’ve given him, though it was initially an internal one. “But, you should know my name.” It seemed so dark the way he said it, like he was the villain in a movie. Which, isn’t so far fetched.

“Could you possibly give me some sort of hint? Anything that could help me?” You almost plead, watching as he lifts himself from your designated bed. In silence, he walks to your bedroom door, stretching his hands above his head in a yawn. He turns around, attaching his hand to the doorknob.

“I’m from your past.”

to be continued...

[hearteyesbowen]

elevator mishaps ☆ joshua bassett

requested by: @faithiebrock01 thank u for ur submission !!

when joshua and y/n get stuck in an elevator, there’s nothing else they can do but chat while they’re stuck, but y/n has major anxiety and joshua needs to confess something

warnings: anxiety attacks, one swear word, overall fluff

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“You know you don’t have to take me home, I can just call an uber.” You said to your best friend, Joshua Bassett.

You and Joshua were both walking back from his costar, Matt’s room so he can drop you off at home. Matt wanted to hold a cast party to celebrate the end of season one of High School Musical: The Musical: The Series. You would always visit Joshua on set when he was shooting to bring him lunch, or when he simply missed you and needed your company (which was pretty much all the time). You never minded, you loved hanging out with Joshua, mostly because of your gigantic crush on him since you two have met. He introduced you to his co-stars, and you had grown to love the cast and became a close friend of theirs as well, which is why Matt wanted to invite you too.

It had gotten late, like, you had work in 6 hours and you were too distracted and having too much fun that you lost track of time kind of late. Although you wish you could just call in sick and miss work, you knew you had to go or your guilty conscious would eat you up the rest of the day.

“Are you crazy? It’s 1:00 in the morning and you want to call an uber? You could be kidnapped, or worse! Besides, your car being in the shop is partially my fault, so I owe you one” He argued, pressing the button to the elevator.

“Partially? You backed up my car into a tree as you tried to parallel park.”

“I said I was sorry!” He countered, holding up a finger to you, making you laugh.

You had almost forgetten where you were, and seeing the silver elevator doors made hands start to shake slightly, your anxiety building up. You didn’t want to admit you were scared of the tight space and the idea that if the wires broke you would both fall to your impending doom, but it did cross your mind. You looked around the empty hallway, taking in the details of the monochromatic wallpaper matching the tile floor. You read the sign a few feet away from you that read stair case.

“J, can we just take the stairs? You know how scared I get.” You begged, pointing towards the dark staircase.

“Y/N, that’s like 30 flights of stairs.” He laughed, until he noticed your frightened expression. His face grew softer. “I’m sorry, I know you get scared. But you’ll be with me, I promise there is nothing to worry about.”

Joshua’s hands went around your shoulder and pulled you to his side. He looked down at you, giving you a reassuring smile. You felt your cheeks heat up as you tried to hide your giddy smile.

The elevator dinged, and the two doors slid open. You felt your heart speed up, and not in the usual happy way that Joshua makes you feel. Joshua’s hands fell from your shoulders to your lower back, and he guided you inside. You watched as he pushed the button for the lobby, soon making the the doors close shut. You internally screamed, and stared at the ceiling. The slight shake of the elevator going down startled you, and you instantly latched onto Joshua’s arms. He let out a small laugh under his breath as he gave your arms a small squeeze that made you feel safer. It was his turn to try and hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks.

“See, we’re all good.” He smiled.

You looked up at him and sighed, “I guess so.”

The lights started to flicker, making you both jump. You looked at the small screen indicating the floors you were going, but the red numbers glitched back and forth to different letters and numbers. The elevator floor came to a stop, making you both screech and slightly shook you onto each other. The main lights shut off and left only the small emergency light.

Your felt your heart speed up rapidly, and your body began to shake. Joshua was quick to notice you.

“Hey princess, it’s ok. It’s probably just a small power outage. Press the emergency button.” He said, trying to calm you down from you heavy breathing.

You stared at the buttons until your eyes fell the the red button that had E on it. You pushed the button multiple times, hoping for the lights to turn back on or for help to answer you. Joshua pulled your shaking body away from the buttons and brought you into him as he brought out his phone. You tried to contain your heavy breathing while you stuffed your face into his chest. Your body began to shake as you felt the anxiety building up even more. You only heard the ringing in your ear and the quick tapping on Joshua’s phone.

“Hi, 911? I’m at the Hilton Hotel inside the elevator. The power went out and we’re kinda stuck inside.” You heard his voice say into his phone, trying his best to remain as calm as he could for you so you wouldn’t worry.

You only heard mumbling on the phone, only making out some of the words they said.

“The screen keeps glitching between 19 and 20.” He read. “It’s just me and my girl.” Your eyes grew wide at the name, but after that you couldn’t focus on anything else they were saying.

He ended the call with 911 and looked down at you, “I’m going to call Matt or Olivia, ok? Just stay here and sit down, I’ll be back. Don’t worry Y/N, we’ll be ok.” He whispered in your ear. You only could nod as he let go of you gently.

You stared at his back as he typed on his phone and brought it up to his ear again, watching as one arm held the phone and the other went under his armpit. You felt your legs get heavier, so you slid down against the wall and by the corner of the elevator. Hot tears slowly rolled down your cheeks as you tried to hold in your crying.

Panic attacks aren’t new to you. You used to get them often as a kid when you were left alone, but it was never this bad. In fact, they started to grow worse as you grew up, and you would always overthink the worst of things. The fear of being lived out would haunt you every night. You would text Joshua about this when you felt another panic attack was happening, so he would either facetime you or if possible, drive over to your apartment.

“Yeah, hi. Uhm, I don’t know how to explain this, but Y/N and I are sort of stuck in the elevator.” Joshua mumbled into the phone, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m fine, but Y/N is getting some pretty bad anxiety. I’ll be fine taking care of her here and I already called 911 so they should be coming and getting us in like ten minutes. Just meet us here, yeah? Ok, see you.”

Joshua hung up and turned around, only to see you completely broken down. He quickly shoved his phone in his pocket and kneeled down in front of you, holding your shivering body in his. He rubbed his hands on your back and you let out relentless cries. He took the black denim jacket he wore and placed it over your shoulders in hopes that it would make you feel warmer and safer.

“It’s ok, princess, it’s ok. We’re going to be fine. I promised you we would be fine, and when have I ever broken a promise?” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. Your sobbing started to slow down, feeling your head get dizzy. You steadily gained back your senses, and the panic lessened as you snuggled deeper into Joshua’s chest.

“I’m right here, Y/N. You know I’ll never leave you or let anything happen to you. I could never live with myself if I did that. I love you too much.” He babbled, not realizing what he just confessed.

Your eyes grew wide and you looked up, noticing his flushed cheeks. He gave you a worried smile, and gently held your face in his soft hands. You felt as he soothingly wiped the tears off your stained cheeks, hoping you didn’t look like a monster with your smeared makeup. Did Joshua Bassett, my best friend, just tell me he loved me? Am I dreaming? Have I ascended?

“Do you want to lie down, princess?” He offered, hoping his confession didn’t disgust you. You only nodded, and slowly moved away from him so he could properly sit down and let you lay on his lap.

You laid on his leg, using his coat as a blanket from the cold elevator floor. Joshua stroked your hair peacefully, humming and softly singing tunes that he knows calms you down when you get anxiety. All this happened while you still tried to process what he said. Your best friend, the boy you met at the coffee shop you work at, the boy who spilled his drink all over you as he tried to leave, the boy you’ve had a crush on since you became friends, loved you back.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, you both trying to figure out what to do. You have probably been in the elevator for 20 minutes already. Suddenly the anxiousness came back. You didn’t know why, which made it all the more frightening. Joshua felt your breathing under his arm speed up.

“J?” You murmered.

“Yes?”

“Can you distract me? The quietness is making me feel worse and I don’t want to overthink more.” You pleaded, sitting up and fixing your hair that must have been all tangled and messy.

He opened his arms and let you sit up next to him, and you snuggled into his side. “Remember when I spilled my coffee all over you three years ago?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, your steaming hot coffee that took me way too long to make?”

“Sorry about that, Y/N, but I was just so distracted by you.” He confessed, rubbing his head from the possibly headache this situation has brought upon him.

“How could I have distracted you? My uniform is no where near cute.” You asked.

“Everything about you is cute. Your soft hair, your really pretty eyes, your adorable smile. I get so easily distracted by you every time I see you.”

“You’re pretty cute too, you know.” You replied, giving him a small smile.

“Oh yeah?” He asked hopefully.

“One hundred percent, yes. I absolutely love your hair, it’s probably my favorite physical feature of yours.” You rambled, “Plus, you’re the sweetest person in the world. You’re super funny, and so smart, it’s probably why I love you so much.” You decide you admit.

He stared at you with wide eyes. You instantly regretted your choice. The fear consumed you once more, and suddenly being in an elevator that could kill you was the least of your problems.

“You probably didn’t mean it the way I did, god I’m so stupid. I-I’m so sorry I probably just ruined everything.” You panicked.

“Y/N,” He started, grabbing one of your hands.

“No, no I’m so fucking dumb.” You trembled, getting up from the floor and backing up into the other corner. Joshua hurriedly jumped up and walked up to you.

“Y/N, listen to me.” He begged, and you stopped, staring at his soft eyes with your red ones.

Joshua gave you a loving smile before he placed his large hands on either side of your waist and brought you in for a long kiss. You were surprised, your eyes still open from shock until you relaxed into his lips and kissed him back. Your hands went to his cheeks, bringing him closer to you. You tried to slowly pull away to look at him, but Joshua didn’t want that. One of his hands left your waist and went to your chin, bringing you back to his soft lips. You deepened the kiss, tilting your head to get even closer to him.

You were both so caught up in each other’s embrace that you didn’t notice the lights of the elevator coming back on. The elevator ding is what brought you back to reality and the machine moved down for the slightest second, making you both pull apart. The doors quickly slid open and you saw the three firefighters and the rest of Joshua’s castmates standing outside the elevators. The firefighters quickly escorted you out and an EMT rushed to you, giving you a water bottle and guiding you to the closest chair. The man asked you questions, like if you could breathe properly and checked your heart rate. Olivia, Sofia, Julia, and Dara rushed to your side, checking on you more than the EMT could. You saw Matt, Frankie, Larry, and Joe pat Joshua’s shoulders as they brought him into a small circle to talk.

“Are you ok, babe? We heard how bad it was for you in there.” Dara asked as Olivia gave you an advil from the paramedic and Sofia rubbed your back. Julia thanked the man as he packed his stuff.

“Yeah, I’m a lot better now. J helped me a lot.” You gave them a big smile, remembering the kiss you shared with him.

Sofia tried her best to rub the smeared mascara off of you with the makeup wipe Julia had, “Speaking of Josh, what happened between you two?”

“Nothing, he just helped me with my anxiety. He’s really an amazing guy.” You answered, catching Joshua’s glance at you, making you both smile at each other.

➢➣ ➢➣

“Maybe you should just call in sick, you’re not going to get enough rest by the time you have to go to work.” Joshua pleaded as he walked over to your side of his car.

“I’ll be fine, J. I can live off of three hours of sleep.” You joke.

Joshua softly pushed you up against the car, his hands grabbing at your waist, yours on his chest. “Or you can just come back home with me, call in sick, and we cuddle the rest of the day.” He mumbled.

You leaned up to give him a short, sweet kiss. You rested your forehead against his, “I think I can do that.”

He let out a small cheer as he opened your door for you, helping you in. He ran around to his side and started the car.

“And you wanted to take the stairs.” He joked, his hand resting on your thigh.

“Shut up, Troy Bolton.”

A/N - here it is ! my first request ! i actually managed to finish writing this lol i hope u like it faith, i kinda tweaked it a bit to how i experienced panic attacks, i hope u dont mind (: but i hope y’all like this one, and send me any requests for any more imagines . the next update will be a part 2 of practicing lines since y’all requested it !! i’ll have more time to write since im sick and i get to stay home tomorrow so hopefully i can get the next update this week ((: love u guys xx

[iwrestlenow]

Many More To Die

TITLE: Many More To Die

FANDOM: Sanders Sides (Necromancer AU)

SUMMARY: For over a thousand years, necromancy has been forbidden in the Kingdoms, the Necromata--its practitioners--feared, reviled, and punished for a power they never asked to wield. Those Necromata who are not killed in the cradle are taken from their families, stripped of their Name--the core of identity and memory--and imprisoned for the rest of their lives.

Logan was twelve when he entered the palace dungeons. Prince Roman was fourteen when he witnessed the young necromancer being brutalized, imprisoned, and left to suffer.

Roman only wanted to offer the other boy comfort, and perhaps a scrap of dignity. He didn't realize his kindness would follow both of them into adulthood--or that Logan would one day become the only person in all the realms that Roman would be able to trust with his life, his heart, and his very soul.

SHIPS: Logince (Logan/Roman), future Moceit (Patton/Janus) and Dukexiety (Remus/Virgil)

WARNINGS: lots of death because necromancy, slash, and more to come as I figure it out ‘cause it’s late and I’m tired. Also, no betas, we die like men.

NOTES: This is based on the gorgeous piece of art by @gretacticdraws that can be found here. I ended up writing a ficlet for it, and then my brain got swallowed up. Breathe at me wrong, and I’ll write more...hell, who am I kidding? I’ll write more anyway because this? Is self indulgent drivel. XD

Also located at AO3 over here.

1023, A.A.

Necromata.

Sitting in the middle of his cell, twelve year old Logan...Logan choked on tears as his shoulder screamed, his bones ached, and the flickering lights of his cell let his imagination run wild with all manner of monsters and omens of doom lurking within every shadow.

He knew he was lucky—many necromancers were caught in the cradle and killed. Very few survived as long as he had. He could be grateful to his family for that much, that he'd lived long enough to escape a death sentence.

He did have a family. He knew that much—remembered that much. Everything else, they had taken before throwing him into his cell. The prison mage's hand was still a ghost of cold fire against his forehead, worms of icy coal burning through his brain to wipe out every trace of the things that would make him what he was, allow him to be more safely contained.

The name spoken with fear and loathing was all that he had left.

Necromata. The legions of the Animator...the necromancers.

“Psst!”

The hiss echoed off the stone in the corridor, made his heart leap into his chest as he looked around for the source of it.

“Psst! Over here!”

Logan tried to scramble back from the door of his cell, and screamed when he forgot about his dislocated shoulder, collapsing as it gave way under his weight.

“No, don't—please, it's okay. I don't want to hurt you.”

Blinking, Logan squinted into the low light beyond the torches that barely lit his new home. Something bright green flickered there, an outline visible that was vaguely person-shaped.

“Who...who are you?” he asked, curling his injured arm as close to his body as he could so he wouldn't forget again as he got to his feet.

“I...I'm not supposed to say.”

Logan shuffled a little closer to the bars of his cell. “Then how do I know you don't want to hurt me?”

“The prison mage took your Name—you won't understand if I tell you. Just...”

The person-shape on the other side of the bars moved forward, an arm protruding through to set a bowl on the dirt floor of Logan's cell. Inside there was water, and sitting across the rim was a heavy piece of leather.

“I saw what the guard did when you came in. Your shoulder...it happened to me once when I snuck out to hunt for the Lazari.”

“The Lazari don't exist.” Logan replied, reaching up with his good hand to try and wipe some of the tears and snot off his face. “They're a fairy tale, like the Animata.”

“How do you know?”

Logan opened his mouth...then closed it after long moments.

“I...I don't know.” he admitted. “I must have lost it when the prison mage took my Name.”

“Then you could be wrong.” the person-shape insisted, those emerald flecks in the near shadow sparkling with determination. “I'll find a Lazari one day. Just you wait.”

“What does that have to do with my dislocated shoulder?”

“Oh! Sorry—uhm, I did it once. When I snuck out, I fell from a tree and mine popped out. My brother showed me how to use the bars on our window to pop it back in! I threw up, though—and he made me bite a belt so I wouldn't scream.”

The hand appeared between the bars again, nudging the bowl and the leather strap forward a little further.

“I can tell you how to do it.”

Logan shuffled forward a couple more steps, then shifted to kneel in front of the bowl of water.

“I...might know.” He replied, staring at the bowl for a long moment before he peered back into the dark, into the green spark that was his benefactor's eyes. “Thank you.”

The person-shape said nothing for a long moment...

“Berry.”

“What?”

“Berry! The guards called you Logan, right? They took your Name—maybe Berry can be your new one.”

Before Logan could comment, the person-shape grew less distinct, and the flicker of green was gone with the clatter of footsteps scurrying away into the dark.

It was a silly idea—a Name taken could not be restored so easily. Still, the word rattled around in his head along with the one that made his bones ache again.

Necromata. Berry. Necromata. Berry. Berry.

Logan Berry.

Something stirred in the middle of Logan's mind, in his marrow—in the place that magic had scoured out and rubbed raw within the pathways of his brain. Something stirred, settled...

Something slid into place, and all of a sudden the shadows were far less frightening.

Popping his shoulder back into the socket hurt far more than dislocating it had—and yet while he'd sobbed his soul out after being injured, after being robbed of all that made him a person, he shed not a single tear as he put the leather between his teeth, wrenched his joint back into place, and used the fresh water to clean up after he'd emptied his stomach into the corner of his cell.

He even managed to sleep on his pallet of straw, and dreamed of green embers in the dark, drifting into the shadows in his cell and transforming every monster into a friend.

**********

1033, A.A.

“I had the dream again.”

“A kinky one?”

“Sweet leaping gods, Remus!”

The high, strident cackle of his twin brother echoed through Prince Roman's bedchamber, making him wonder yet again why he thought he could talk to the crazy idiot about anything remotely meaningful. Yes, Remus was trustworthy—he gave Roman all manner of hell for the secrets he shared, but had suffered his fair share of indignities to keep his mouth shut—but sometimes he wondered if it was worth the teasing and the laughter to have such a steadfast confidant.

Remus had secrets of his own, after all—the numerous Anima that shared his bed, for one. Like Roman, Remus was fascinated by the Necromata, the true necromancers that all citizens of the Kingdoms were taught to hate and fear. The Anima were little more than pretenders, mages of other disciplines that toyed with the death magic that had been outlawed for over a thousand years.

Still, they had a lot to teach—and made good company, from the way Remus spoke of his dalliances.

“Oh, I'm just yanking your chain, big brother!” Remus assured him, crossing over to drape himself over Roman's back, chin settling on Roman's shoulder to read what his twin was writing as he hunched over his desk. “C'mon now—tell me about the dream, and I'll tell you about the Necromata I fucked last night.”

Roman straightened abruptly at that, unceremoniously sending Remus sprawling to the floor. Turning his chair, he gaped down at his brother and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“You did not sleep with a real necromancer, you lying sack of horse dung!” he hissed. “Why would you even say that in the palace of all places?!?”

“Because the sex was unbelievably good?” Remus offered, shrugging from his place on the floor, flat on his back. “Believe me, Ro Bro, a guy that can't actually feel human contact can keep it up for a nice, long, slow roll in the hay. It's pretty remarkable!”

Roman just huffed, standing from his seat—and promptly sinking to the floor to sprawl out right beside Remus.

“You're lying.” he said simply.

Remus was quiet a long time...then sighed.

“Of course I am. He was just another Animata.”

“Anima. The Animata are a myth, like the Lazari.”

“Since when did you turn into such a brainiac, Roro? We both know I've always been the smart one.”

Roman rolled his eyes with a grin, stretching his leg to kick Remus's ankle—but the truth of the matter was, Remus was right. Between the pair of them, Remus was smarter by leaps and bounds. He was studying the collegiate sciences when he was seventeen, and began his magic training before he'd even reached puberty. The fact that the only part of the sciences he enjoyed were anatomy and mortuary study were entirely besides the point, as was the fact that Remus wasn't actually capable of using magic at all.

He was, as their father lovingly put it, a rogue genius: in possession of an intellect so massive that the rules couldn't restrain him. He either knew too well how to circumnavigate them, or he simply didn't care enough to bother and did what he wanted—what he thought was right, no matter the consequence.

Roman might have been the elder of the twins—by one hour, eleven o'clock of one night where Remus came at midnight the next morning—but he aspired, every single day, to be the maverick that Remus was. He simply lacked the brains...and the courage.

Which was why today, it was Roman their father would be naming as his successor, and not Remus. Roman would be king, would rule by the law and the will of the gods, and Remus would...get to be Remus for the rest of his life, a crown prince without a care in the world.

“Tell me about the dream, Roro.”

Remus's voice was gentle this time, his fingers walking their way along Roman's arm until he could find his hand and weave it into his own.

Roman sighed, staring up at the mural on the ceiling of his bedchamber—a beautifully wrought depiction of the Fall of Death, the final battle between the Animator, the first of the Necromata, and their ancestor, King Thomas Andres, that had saved the Kingdoms over a thousand years ago.

“He was in it.”

“The boy from the dungeons?”

Roman nodded. He could feel Remus watching him...

Just like he could feel the boy from the dungeons watching him every time he had the dream... ********** “He was here again.”

“Jumpin' Jiminy, Lo—are you sure?”

Logan nodded, mostly to himself. Patton couldn't see him, not from the bathtub behind the partition that separated it from the rest of the room, but it hardly mattered—after eight years as cell mates, the two of them had become as close as brothers, as close as twins according to some of the guards that had met the king's identical twin sons.

They had grown so naturally into the relationship, it made Logan wonder sometimes if he'd had a brother before his Name had been taken.

Well...it made him wonder in the early days, at any rate. Logan had stopped wondering many years ago.

Suffice to say, Patton didn't need to see him nod to know that Logan had.

“Well? What'd he do?”

Logan let his mind wander back to the night before—the dream space that he so often occupied, the boy that had come to him in the dark ten years before with a bowl of water, a leather strap, and a name.

The boy he'd come to think of as the Green Man, with those eyes that the dark couldn't fully hide.

“The same thing he always does.” Logan managed to reply, setting down the pen he'd been using in favor of resting his elbows on his desk and steepling his fingers to press against his lips. Among those Necromata imprisoned in the palace dungeons, Logan was quite fortunate: he was allowed a cell mate, access to books and writing implements, even a small window sill garden consisting of plants that couldn't be used for magical purposes.

He was very lucky. Ten years of good behavior had given him an incredible amount of leeway and granted him creature comforts like access to regular bathing privileges. The guards even referred to him by his chosen name.

He was, for all intents and purposes, treated like he was truly human. A prisoner, always, but one the guards and prison mages shared a basic blood connection to, unlike the other Necromata.

“...Lo?...Logan!”

Shaking himself, Logan cleared his throat and tried to beat back the heat he could feel rising in his cheeks, having been caught wool gathering.

“Apologies, I didn't catch that.” he called over his shoulder.

“I said, did he say anything this time?”

Logan shook his head, knowing once again that his actions would be understood rather than seen. Patton asked the same thing every time Logan mentioned the visits, and every time it was the same.

If Patton really knew the content of the Green Man's visitations...

Pressing his fingertips to his mouth again, Logan shut his eyes and let himself remember.

The visits were always in a dream space—for years, before the visitations became more regular, Logan had assumed the Green Man was a guard's son, or the child of some member of the palace staff. Later, when the Green Man came to Logan in his sleep, he figured he was the son of a prison or court mage—who else could manage to dream walk in the mind of even a crippled necromancer like him?

Then again...Logan was different from many prisoners like himself.

In the dream, Logan still cannot see his face. Like those ephemeral dreams from his first few nights in the dungeons, he's little more than shadows with burning points of light the color of fresh shoots just springing from the soil. Over the years, he's become more distinct, but still nothing Logan can give any real definition.

He is a man made of darkness, his eyes reflecting what spark of magic lives within him. They never speak to each other—Logan never dares, secretly apprehensive that disturbing the quiet will somehow end this irregular communion they share.

All the Green Man does is extend a hand, the only part of him Logan can truly see. What was once small and slim fingered has changed over the years into a large hand, broad but lean, tendons standing out below each knuckle and tanned by exposure to the sun. Every time, he reaches out, and every time, Logan takes his hand and just...holds on.

In the dream space, Logan can feel his touch. It's likely a projection, something imagined, but there's strength and warmth in that hand—the pressure of fingers meshing with his own, the heat of palm sealed to palm. There's something under the skin, itchy and trembling, and it makes Logan want to pull away because it's just too much...

The Green Man never lets him. Gradually, the feeling passes, and Logan clings until the feeling returns, crashing over him and sliding back in waves beating the shore of his nervous system.

Logan is always the first to let go. The Green Man makes sure of it—and then he leaves.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Logan looked up sharply, twisting to see Patton over his shoulder. His mop of tawny curls is swept back from his face, still dark and wet from his bath, the chill of the cell raising gooseflesh on his bare torso.

He has one hand holding the towel around his waist, and the other resting on Logan's shoulder.

The pressure is barely there, that buzzing awareness of contact easily missed if not expected.

Patton hastily lifts his hand, face screwed up in silent apology. Logan dislikes physical contact, even if he cannot feel it—just like any of the Necromata, so divorced from the living, human populous that they cannot even connect to them through touch.

“Didn't mean to spook you, Lo. Just...you're real quiet. Usually, you got more to say after a visit from You Know Who.”

Logan nodded, then made a point of reaching out to squeeze Patton's hand briefly before letting it go just as quickly.

“Apologies. I suppose I'm just...distracted by today.”

“Yeah—hey, you think the prince'll come down here?” Patton asked hopefully, drawing back to go and find some clothes. “I mean, if he's gonna learn to be king after the ceremony...”

Logan let Patton continue to chatter about the potential for this new ruler to somehow see their plight, somehow be their salvation. He let the words, the hope, wash over him without making contact.

Patton could have hope, because he had no Name. No history, no memory, no past and therefore no future. He was a blank slate, for all intents and purposes, unable to access the power of the Necromata with no life of his own to bind it to.

Unlike Logan. Logan, who no longer wondered if he'd had a brother in his family.

Logan, who could share a dream space, something only mages were capable of.

Logan, who had been given a new name by his benefactor so many years ago, a name that others used daily.

Logan Berry, who even now could feel the essence of every rat behind the dungeon walls, every guard on patrol, every prisoner languishing beneath the lowest floors of the palace...and every noble, every royal, every peasant up above.

Logan Berry, who could not remember his family, but could remember that he once had a brother.

Because, despite the fact that a Name taken could not be restored so easily, Logan had taken a name freely given and made it his own.

A Name, freely given. A life, restored.

Logan could not have hope, because he had the power of the Necromata at his fingertips—and it was only a matter of time before good behavior would no longer be enough to earn him the leeway to stay alive.

[hanadolphieron]

lunar artist!yeojin; chapter four~

warnings; space ships, flying in space, space battles, explosions, grenades, fighting, armies, exhaustion, bad dialogue sorry bout that, unconsciousness, prison

genre; sci-fi, strangers to friends to lovers, fluff, angst

pairing; im yeojin x gender neutral!reader

word count; 2.1k

summary; your small crater town on the moon was rarely visited. one day, artist!yeojin travels all the way from mars to paint the serene, wistful scenery of your planet.

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

you’re sweating at this point. hot, itchy perspiration runs down your neck, your arms, all over your body. you don’t care. all that matters now is escape. 

the gates to bexyim are close now. close enough that you can see the people crowding around inside them.

well, it’s not exactly a crowd. more like a small, distanced flock of humans scurrying around. they look terrified, like someone is about to snatch them up and take them away.

and, you notice, somebody just might. 

as you slow your pace to a walk, you catch sight of armored beings, covered in the silver regalia you know belongs to the lunar military.

they patrol through the city, daring people to challenge them.

you recall stories of the drafts that occurred when you were still a kid. your dad was fortunately not called, and your family was safe.

but others weren’t.

some poor mothers lost their whole family to the drafts, and some not only to those, but to the war.

and you’re seeing the aftermath of that right now. 

you emerge through the city gates, being scanned by the flashing lasers inside them, and see the tired faces of the people around you.

and you know the look of exhaustion isn’t just the natural downwards shape of lunar faces.

these people have lost their livelihood, the most important part of lunar life- their family.

all because of that dreadful, burning planet called mars.

you know the moon didn’t start this war.

the resource of your world are spread thin to begin with, there’s no way your government could have made a decision that bad.

i mean, they are politicians, and don’t make the best choices, but still, they would have known better than this.

you keep walking, breathing hard and loudly. you feel self conscious from all the stares being trained on your back, and look down, watching your feet.

a voice calls out to you, “y/n!”

you glance up, seeing your boss.

“oh, hello,” you respond softly.

“we’ve lost contact with you since the war started. where have you been?”

“i’ve actually been at my house. i had no idea there was a war going on!” you giggle, drifting into the shallow, polite persona you use with your company.

“well, we need you to be on the job. now. we’ve been losing journalists by the second, either to the drafts, deaths in the family, or just pure fear. we know you can handle the job.”

“the job?” you question.

“yes, we need someone to be at the frontlines, giving reports on how the battle is going.”

“aren’t there multiple war areas?” you don’t like the sound of this. i mean, go up to the frontlines? and report? who do they think you are?

“yes, you’ll be moving around throughout them. the first station is one to the south of mars, closest to where all the big battles are. we seem to be winning over there, only a ragtag group of soldiers is there, they’re all runaways or have some other thing going on. none of them are as disciplined as the rest of the army. their leader is though. she’s fierce. watch out for her.”

“okay,” you say, “where, where do i go?”

“come with me,” your boss says, leading you towards another street, “do you have anything with you?”

you walk fast to keep up with her pace, “i don’t actually! it was sort of a spontaneous trip here, i was trying to figure out what was going on,” you say, letting out another chuckle.

“there’ll be some supplies on the ship, i’m sure,” your employer easily responds.

out of the corner appears a launchpad. a small ship sits atop it. hopefully it’s just a transport, you don’t fee confident prancing up to the war in such a tiny vessel. 

you don’t feel confident going anywhere near the frontlines to begin with, but duty calls.

laylia, your boss, doesn’t even stop, continuing onto the ship. you follow, helpless. everything is moving so fast. 

“well, guess this is where we part. have fun y/n,” she calls, already leaving.

“yeah, uh, see you!” your voice barely makes it out, the door is already closing and air whistles around you, carrying you into the air.

you clutch the side of the ship, not used to the movement.

after you make it into the atmosphere and turn on the hyperdrive, you make you way to a seat and plonk down.

exhaustion overtakes you, and despite your nerves, you pass out on the chair.

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

blaring red sirens awake you a few hours later and you sit up way too fast, making your eyes have a seizure and fill up with colored parallelograms.

falling up into a standing positions, head still spinning, you look around.

you notice something in the side window. another ship. a marsian one.

gasping, you urgently glance around, searching for someone who knows what they’re doing and can hopefully help you.

everything begins to set in.

you could die. right now. right this very second. and what have you done with the time you’ve had?

someone grabs you by the shoulder and you’re jolted out of your thoughts.

“hey, you’re the journalist, right?” they ask you.

“yeah,” your voice shakes.

“come with me, we have to go,” the solider says, and seeing your nervous expression adds, “you won’t get hurt, i promise, we’ll protect you. i’ll protect you.”

the soldier continues to stare into your eyes.

who the heck is this kid? you think. are they really trying to flirt in the middle of a life-threatening situation? you shake your head, stepping forward and pushing them to move along.

the two of you run towards the doorway, which has somehow docked at an enemy ship.

an enemy ship?

hold the shuckadoddle frickety frack up. you can’t do this anymore. regretting everything, you tell yourself to stop, anxiety taking over your mind.

your legs don’t listen to your thoughts, and you keep running.

escaping and heading into danger because of impulsive decisions seems to be a constant theme in your life. hmm.

explosions fill your ears. you can’t see them, only the grey walls boxing you in the quiet metal ground disappearing under your feet.

your eyes are trained on the floor beneath you, but you somehow take in everything around you. peripheral vision seems to work double-time in emergencies.

soldiers rush forward in the other corridors, going the same direction as you.

they’re just blurs, silver numbers moving as a group, dispensable and unimportant. 

the person leading you hasn’t given you a weapon. you’re defenseless. but hey, when have you ever not been? you have no idea how to use a gun.

adrenaline takes over. you’re the most confident you’ve ever been since that one time when you were little and your mom bought you high heels and you got to walk around the house like a venusian model.

the memory makes you sad. you haven’t seen your mother in years. you might not ever see her again. 

regret flashes through your mind.

you push it away.

the explosions are near. you hear them before you see them.

thundering, blasting booms echo through your eardrums, becoming the only thing you can hear.

next, you see them.

smoke wafts toward you, mixed with sparks.

then before you can register it, a crash erupts and orange fire comes streaking towards you.

the soldier pulls you down behind a doorway, and the fire goes past.

they move as soon as the fire goes past.

“come on, we have to hurry!”

you can barely hear them over your own fear. it’s the only thing going through your mind.

you chase after the soldier, probably running to your doom but who cares at this point. you have nowhere else to go.

you reach the hanger, where the battle is commencing. sliding to a stop behind a crate, you catch your breath, heaving, almost spitting all over the solider.

they seem to be in a better state than you. stupid trained military.

“turn on your comm,” the soldier speaks to you. 

“how?”

they reach over and push a button.

“talk. report something.”

“uhm. ok,” oh dear how are you going to do this.

still breathing hard, you pant into the microphone, “we’re in the main hanger of ship 456,” you read off the crate you’re slouched against, “lunar reinforcements are coming in by the second. we seem to be in the lead, our troops are hiding behind crates and have shelter. ships are blowing up from explosions thrown at the other side,” you pause, catching your breath, you’re speed-talking into the microphone.

remembering what your boss said, you say, “the general doesn’t seem to be here. just a rag-tag army of shorties. let’s go luna!”

turning off the comm, you belch a sigh. 

then your world turns upside down. a sound like a sonic boom pushes at your eardrums. your vision goes green and purple for a second. you black out.

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

yeojin almost falls again. laughing you shriek at her, “yeojin! this is the fortieth time! get yourself together!” the last part comes out in a purposefully strangled voice, one you use whenever you’re yelling but don’t want to yell because you’re not mad, just overly excited.

she trips over her ice skates, cackling over your words. you barely catch her this time, arms weak with happiness.

you pull her up, holding her close to you. she’s touching your arms, holding onto them, leaning in closer, looking as happy as can be.

but something isn’t right. 

you feel nervous. 

something’s coming.

yeojin’s face falls, and your sight shifts.

you’re dreaming. yeojin isn’t here. 

eyes opening, you shudder and flinch with the harsh reality of waking up. you’re not safe. you have to run.

making a start, trying to get away from a place you haven’t even looked at, you’re caught by restraints.

finally registering your location, you realize where you are.

in a prison cell.

panicking harder now, you push against the cuffs clasped around your wrists and ankles.

you’re breathing hard, but if feels like you’ve been holding your breath, submerged under water.

you’re drowning.

thoughts fill your mind. you can’t look at them, pushing them away, the only emotion in your system is fear. it’s propelling you. the only thing keeping you going. you need it.

sharp exhales fill the room. you don’t realize it’s you.

a deep voice, that special kind of scary government-esque voice that means serious trouble, breaks through, “hey!”

cutting through your mind like a knife, your mind shifts to the right side of the room where the voice is coming from, hyperfocusing on all the details.

white light comes from the ceiling. it reflects off of the metal walls, the same color as the ones you ran through before. it feels like it’s been days since then. maybe it has.

the person who possesses the voice moves toward you, quickly and with purpose. their shoes clack across the black floor. 

they move past the other holding devices, ones that look exactly like the one you’re in- upright but titled at an angle, putting the prisoner in an awkward vulnerable position, cuffs around the ends, a cold feel of despair and fear crawling on them like slime.

other soldiers flood through the door. two of them. they follow the first one.

the three officials stand in front of you. silent. 

then they start whispering to each other. you don’t say anything. can’t actually, your voice box has gone unresponsive and clogged.

turning to you, the one seemingly in charge, barks, “what do you know about ha sooyoung?”

you freeze for a moment. you have no idea who that name belongs to.

“i- i don’t know,” you breath out.

“what?” the man steps closer to you, getting in your face.

“i don’t know!” you say louder this time, voice hitch.

“really? why are you here then?” the man doesn’t move away. you can smell his breath. peppermints, smoke, and death.

“i’m a reporter,” you say, clearer this time. hopefully there isn’t any harm in saying that. ratting out your country is the last thing you want to do.

“well then you must know all about her,” the officer stresses the all, moving closer.

you’re shaking at this point.

“i promise i don’t. i haven’t been to any major city in years. i- i don’t know anything. nothing.”

“i don’t believe you. no way you’re telling the truth. you sound too suspicious. not even knowing about ha sooyoung? your own general? impossible. kerek, get out the electrifier.”

“wait! no! please!” you scream without even registering your words. electrifier? this has to be a dream. you’re not going to be tortured. no. this can’t be happening. you can’t do this.

kerek, one of the man’s accomplices, moves to the edge of the room, retrieving the device. 

then he stops. a noise comes from the right side of the room where the door is.

someone opened it. they’re now standing in the doorway.

they move forward into the light, illuminating their small figure.

you can’t believe your eyes.

it’s yeojin.

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