#had lots of fun hosting this ❤️

[yeritos]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ © ⠀ roller⠀ coaster

⠀finally, here we are with the roller coaster event results, apologise for the wait, i PROMIS i didn’t let it slip my mind.. it was the laziness in me ^__^ all of the mbs were such a gag JEBAL it made the decision difficult, i did settle for the top ones though! let’s all enjoy and live that life to the fullest and don’t get mad for not getting into the top 5 😖😖 also.. like and subscribe for banger moodboards..

🥇 — @ningrlz’s moodboard, see, this ones perfectly on theme AND a 10/10 while you’re at it there’s not much to tell, the moodboard speaks for itself imo.. orange blue is a hard combo kudos to u for making it work together so well!! RESPECT 💯😂🔥

🥈 — @yrminji’s moodboard, i liked this sm you won’t ever get it in the same will i ever will. i will always love it in a moodboarder way than you. trisha is the greatest and i’m not lying when i say this

🥉 — @aegsll’s moodboard, a recreation of my very first thought would be that it fits the theme extremely well and i’m a huge sucker for the cybercore vibes used here 😭😭 we love you aeGOAT

runner ups !! — coming in fourth place we have @p-oisn WHO ELSE PHYSICALLY GASPED IN AWE SEEING THE MB.. and in fifth place we have @haenxn and the sunghoon mb that i had to put in one of the top five there were no chances of it getting left out :o

⠀ 🥇 ⠀ ᯓ★ ⠀ a follow obviously, one blog theme of their liking, 100 reblogs, two moodboards, shoutout and three dividers!

⠀ 🥈 ⠀ ᯓ★ ⠀ a follow 2️⃣, 75 reblogs, a mb, shoutout and three locs!

⠀ 🥉 ⠀ ᯓ★ ⠀ a follow 3️⃣, 50 reblogs, a mb, shoutout and users

⠀🔥 ⠀ ᯓ★ ⠀ a moodboard for the runner ups 😆

all will be posted one by one on my page, dm me to claim your prize… thank u for the support yeritosnation i love you.

[foreingersgod]

omg I saw you wrote for pb and I was wondering your take on her comforting a reader who struggles with mental health or anxiety? Tysmia && I love your work !! ❤️🤗

for any of you struggling out there, i’m here with you! if you ever need, my inbox is always open :)

Anxious . PB

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

synopsis: you’ve struggled with anxiety your entire life, but you never told anyone, including paige. during one of your bad anxiety attacks, she finally finds out.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

since you were young, about starting middle school, anxiety controlled the entirety of your life. every decision, every breathe, every moment, anxiety was driving you. it was so suffocating that you fell behind the other kids. you didn’t play sports or join clubs, nor did you hang out with friends because you feared the worst. those voices in your head, that twisted feeling in your gut made life almost unlivable.

when you graduated high school and moved away for college, the anxiety lessened. you think in some ways college helped you find yourself and for a little bit, you were living freely.

in that time, you met your girlfriend paige. you had met her through one of your mutual friends at her birthday party. paige had spotted you from across the room, completely captivated by you. you were beautiful, had the most adorable laugh, and had the most unique style she had seen. she couldn’t help but ask for your number.

the rest was history. you and paige hit it off immediately and became inseparable. when you were with paige, you felt amazing. anxiety was the last thing on your mind. talking to people became easier, leaving your house was no longer scary, life was good. your days of anxiety and panic attacks were well behind you.

but about a year into your relationship, things started to fall apart again. that particular year, you were facing a lot of hardships and it was hard to manage it all. your mother was rushed to the hospital for a minor respiratory problem, she was recovering well, but the financial burden fell to you. school was beginning to pile up as well, it felt like you were drowning in school work. things at your job had been getting worse too, you were understaffed (and underpaid) and practically running the whole place. and on top of that, it was paige’s last year at uconn and she was so stressed about the upcoming season, and you were finding it hard to balance being her support system and the rest of your life.

it was hard.

when things started to go down hill, you felt that familiar feeling creep its way back into your mind. you found that your heart was pounding more and more when you left your cozy apartment, that your thoughts weren’t your own, and that you were always worried about the future. you couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t function properly at all. but you stayed optimistic, thinking that this would run its course. because you were getting better, right?

you kept all of this from paige. you were worried that she would worry and you didn’t want to make things worse. after all, you had never even told paige about your struggles with anxiety and mental health in the past and you wanted to keep it that way.

on one saturday night in june, one of paige’s teammates hosted a small get together at a quaint little restaurant with the team and their partners. everyone was stoked to see one another and catch up. normally, you would have loved this sort of thing. you used to love those types of settings, but now you were struggling to act excited about it. when paige had told you about the invite, you immediately became apprehensive.

“you excited?” she asked, telling you the details of the event “it’ll be fun”

“stoked” you managed to croak out.

when 6:00 pm rolled around, you were dressed and ready to go. paige was downstairs, keys in hand, awaiting your arrival, but you remained in the bathroom. you stared at your reflection in the mirror, trying to talk yourself down from a panic attack.

you can do this, YN, it’s gonna be ok you told yourself.

“YN!” you heard paige holler from the bottom of the stairs “we’re gonna be late, babe! are you ready?”

touching up your hair and fanning the tears out of your eyes, you rushed out of the bathroom. paige greeted you by the front door with a kiss, hands finding the small of your back and leading you out to her car.

the drive was dreadful. all you could think about was going home, thinking that something was going to go wrong and ruin your night. it had you discretely biting your nails as you looked out the car window. paige, oblivious to your agitated state, was telling you about the restaurant the get together was held at and how she was exited for you to try it. you nodded along, trying to keep yourself distracted.

after a painfully long drive to your destination, you were being escorted to the table where your party sat. you were met with toothy smiles and cheerful greetings from paige’s teammates as you arrived. paige pulled out your chair for you and sat down next to you while conversing with a few of the girls.

you were doing fine at first, only sparking up conversation with a few girls to keep your anxiety at bay. you were managing. even when the waiters began taking orders, you got through it no problem. laughter filled your small corner of the restaurant as everyone joked and talked with each other, there was absolutely nothing to be worried about.

20 minutes passed, discussion was still alive and you were getting through the night like a champ.

until the food was brought out.

the second that plate was sat in front of you, you felt the pace of your heart pick up. you didn’t know what was going on, but for some reason, the thought of eating your food in front of all of these people set you off. you hadn’t had a history of this, normally you didn’t mind eating in public. you assumed it must of been the stress of keeping food down. you stared at the steaming meal in front of you like it was some sort of extraneous creature. just the thought of lifting up the fork had you spiraling about every possible thing that could go wrong.

what if you threw up?

what if the food was raw?

what if everyone saw the way that you were eating? they’ll probably think you look funny.

your eyes welled up at the thought of it all, your head hung low to hide your dampened mood. your legs were bouncing uncontrollably to try and balance your nerves, body practically shaking from fear.

as you attempted to reserve yourself, praying no one would notice. you felt paige’s hand rest itself onto your knee, gripping it gently to halt your bouncing. she tapped the inside of your thigh, leaning in and whispering into your ear.

“hey, what’s the matter baby?” she muttered just enough for you to hear “you’re shaking”

you bit your lip harshly. fuck

you shook your head. it was all you could muster, couldn’t find the ability in your throat to produce any words. the urge to cry out for help gnawed at your chest.

before paige could question any further, you abruptly stood out of you chair. the wooden legs scraping against the black and white tile of the floor. as your back turned, rushing to the bathroom for any sort of isolation, you felt eyes burning in the back of your head. you heard paige call out for you faintly, but it was no use, you couldn’t sit at that table a moment longer.

the bathroom felt miles away as scurried past other tables. tears were streaming down your cheeks, most definitely taking your mascara with it. finally reaching the single occupant bathroom, you shut the door and locked it behind you. you were careless of the germs as you sunk to the bathroom floor in despair. knees hugged close to your chest and head buried into your arms. sobs racked your body and trepidation coursed through your veins. you were losing control of yourself.

out of the blue a knock sounded at the bathroom door. assuming it was another diner of the restaurant, you ignored it hoping they would move along. then you heard her.

“YN, are you in there? are you ok, what the hell is going on?” paige’s voice rang through the door.

“i’m fine” you hiccuped “i’ll be out in a second, i just need to pee is all”

“don’t lie to me” she said “you were shaking and sobbing when you left the table, the hell you just have to pee”

you continued to cry, loud enough for paige to hear.

“baby, please, what can i do? what’s going on, i want to help” she pleaded.

past all the pain your mind was putting you through, you yearned for paige. she made you feel so safe, the whole reason you were able to battle your anxiety in the first place. you didn’t want to rope her into this, but it was far past keeping it a secret now.

with hands still trembling, you unlocked the door and let her in. without wasting a second, she was at your side, locking the door behind her. her arms wrapped around you protectively, rubbing your back to comfort you as you fell to the floor again. she sat with you as you crawled into her. your head tucked into her chest as you cried, tears soaking into her shirt, fingers clinging to the fabric. paige tried to move the hair out of your face to get a better look at you.

“you’re scaring me, YN” a worried expression washed across her face “what can i do? who do i have to fight, huh?”

she tried to cheer you up, accepting defeat once you cried harder.

“i-i don’t-” you were struggling to speak still “i don’t even know where to start paige!”

she pulled you closer to her chest “just try baby, take your time. i’m right here with you, we’ve got all the time in the world ok. just get it all out, you’re safe”

and that was all it took for you to completely break down if front of your girlfriend. every detail from the last few days, from your past, everything about your anxiety came spilling out.

“before i met you, i had chronic anxiety. like so bad i could barely leave the house. then i moved away for school and it got better, and when i met you it pretty much went away. but you know with my mom? and school and work and now you’re in your last season with your team? it’s just been getting to me and the anxiety has started to get worse again. i can’t eat or sleep right and i feel like i’ve been losing my fucking mind, paige”

she was such an amazing listener, sitting there on the dirty bathroom floor as her girlfriend bawled into her shoulder. the whole time her eyes were glued to you, gentle fingers carefully wiping your tears away.

“why didn’t you tell me all of this? tell me about the eating and the sleeping? YN, it makes me sick imagining you going through all this alone”

“because i didn’t want you to worry and i was too embarrassed to say anything”

“well i’m worried now” she said “and embarrassed? baby…”

“i know, it’s silly, but i was just scared you’d think of me less if you knew what a mess i am when i get anxiety like this”

“i could never think less of you. ever. please know that”

“but i-”

“no, listen” she interrupted “just because you struggle with your mental health or have a hard time dealing with your anxiety doesn’t mean i’ll think anything less of you. you’re my whole world. this life and in the next, you’re my entire soul. i want nothing more than to be here for you and to help you overcome things like this. if anything, it only proves to me how strong you are and how i’m so lucky to have a girl who’s able to get through all this”

you sniffled, tears stopping as she continued “i love you, more than you know. and i’m sorry you felt like you needed to do this on your own”

you really had the best girlfriend out there. someone who loves you even through your own insecurities.

“i love you so much” you kissed her with your lips salty from the tears “thank you for being here, i don’t know what i’d do without you”

“get through all this just the same because that’s how strong you are. i’m just here to help in anyway you need” paige leaned in for another kiss, this time deeper, strong hands cradling your jaw “how about i go tell the team you’re not feeling well and we’ll go back home, eat some ice cream and watch anything you want?”

you nodded, wiping your cheeks with the back of your palm “even new girl?”

“yea baby, even new girl”

moments later, you were back in the comfort of your home. snuggled in bed next to paige, bowls of ice cream on your lap, the tv buzzing in the background.

you could finally breathe again, you just needed your girl.

[seospicybin]

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION

Lee Know x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Minho are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (7,2k words)

Author's note: Merry Christmas! Hope you enjoy my gift to you ❤️

HOST: Welcome to the Too Hot To Handle reunion! Today, we're going to get all the updates on your favorite couples and what happens once they return to the real world. And I know, you're all dying to know if the couples are still together or not but in the meantime, let's find out if our sexy group of people remember all the times they broke the rules.

-

AGNES: Uh, I did a lot [cringes]

LUCA: I wish I had broken more rules. [Laughs]

YOU: The kiss Agnes and I did with Jack.

JAI: [Counts with fingers] There's just a lot of 'em.

BRYAN: Uhm... I'm the accountant, remember?

MINHO: The sex?

YOU: Then I broke more rules with Minho.

AGNES: Oh, the kiss with Jack!

JACK: Just once but I kissed the two hottest girls in the retreat [grins]

-

HOST: Here's the couple who broke half of those rule breaks and managed to win the show. Welcome back, lovebirds!

MINHO: [Waves hand]

YOU: Hi, gorgeous! [Smiles]

HOST: You guys won. Congratulations! [Claps]

YOU: Thanks, girl!

MINHO: Thank you.

HOST: So, what are you guys doing with the money? Are you guys sharing it? Or maybe... saving it for the wedding? [Chuckles]

MINHO: I make her keep all the money.

YOU: He insists that I handle it.

HOST: Uh-oh. I sense something wrong. What is it? Tell us all about it...

MINHO: [Shrugs]

YOU: Ugh!

MINHO: We were supposed to go on this trip together.

YOU: [rolls eyes]

HOST: Girl, I can see you holding back. Spill!

YOU: [Sighs] Well, since I'm taking care of the money, I thought it would be nice to go on a trip together with the money we've won. On the day we were supposed to leave, we had an argument so yeah...

HOST: Oh, no [frowns]

YOU: I booked the flights, the Airbnb... I have to cancel all of that because he canceled last minute like... [exhales air]

HOST: Minho, you want to add to that?

MINHO: That's all true. We argued on the day of the flight and I canceled.

YOU: And I texted him, you know, he could have still come, we could sort things out face to face but no, he didn't reply to any of my texts.

HOST: If I were you, I would have still gone on that vacation.

YOU: Honestly, I was looking forward to that trip, I want to spend time with him and have fun... [sighs] I was a little heartbroken by that.

HOST: Just to clarify... are you still together or not?

YOU: I'm just going to let it out of my chest that I... I will always have love for Minho and I support him, I'll always be attracted to him. I—

HOST: I'm sorry, girl but you have to hold it right there and we'll get back to you later.

-

HOST: If there's one thing that the villa proves is that people are complicated and one person knows this more than most... it's Zara!

ZARA: [Blows kisses] Hi, hello! That's actually the nicest way to put it, it's complicated [laughs]

HOST: Let me tell you, I was sad to see you got eliminated [pouts]

ZARA: Aww... but that's the thing, I came home not feeling sad at all, and to feel that, I usually have to go out with friends and have a few drinks. But I was sitting at my home thinking of what Lana taught me and what I'd learned... [smiles] It was all a good life lesson.

HOST: What made you feel that way about your elimination?

ZARA: I don't know, I woke up feeling like I learned enough in the retreat, obviously, I didn't want to keep hurting myself and get myself into more drama... [inhales] it's for the best.

HOST: Are you seeing anyone at the moment?

ZARA: Yeah and he's amazing, he's sweet and fun and he's just as obsessed with me as I do for him [chuckles]

HOST: I love that, yeah. You just feel like want to eat him, right?

ZARA: [Laughs]

HOST: But in regards to what happened to you and Bryan, have you spoken to each other ever since? Are you on good terms?

ZARA: He sent me some texts once the show ended but that's just that [thinly smiles] let's just leave it at that.

HOST: It was fun catching up with you but I have to go and talk to Agnes and Jai.

ZARA: Send my love for them [Blows kisses]

HOST: And I am sending you my love. Cheers, babe!

-

HOST: I cannot wait to find out if they're still horny for each other, it's one of my favorite couples, Jai and Agnes!

AGNES: Hi, hi! [Makes smooching sounds]

JAI: G'day! [Grins]

HOST: I never knew I missed that grin of yours, Jai! [Chuckles]

JAI: I know [grins] I'm doing it for you.

HOST: Shush it, boy! Your girl is here!

AGNES: I'm very aware of how flirtatious my man could be. But I'm watching you [squints eyes]

JAI: [Holds both hands up]

HOST: Tell us what happened after the show. Are you guys still naughty and horny?

JAI: Oh, yes.

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: She stayed with me for a while, back when I was still having a roommate and he asked me if we were alright. We kept going at it that it concerned him.

AGNES: Oh, my God!

HOST: Oh! You two are just so passionate [laughs]

AGNES: [Nods] [giggles]

JAI: We are!

HOST: Now, for the most important question, are you guys still together or not?

JAI: We had a little break then we just kind of... found a way back to each other.

AGNES: [smiles] We are still together. Yay!

HOST: Oh, thank Goodness!

JAI: A month ago, is it? We took a trip together and eventually met her sister and her family.

AGNES: It was unplanned! [Laughs] [shows hand] There's no ring yet, everyone.

HOST: Jai? Any plans to put a ring on it then?

AGNES: [Laughs]

JAI: Uh... to be continued?

HOST: It's been lovely, you guys. I hope you two stay happy.

AGNES: And horny?

HOST: Yes [laughs] Thank you and see you [blows kisses]

-

HOST: Before we get to the final interview, the guests are sharing their best moments in the villa.

AGNES: Oddly enough, I missed the dressing room, I guess that's because we gossip so much in there [giggles]

JACK: The kiss, obviously [laughs]

LUCA: The first party in the villa. That was... just wild and so much fun.

MAISIE: The final date I had with Luca was just romantic, probably the nicest date I ever had.

YOU: It's all the times Sabine and I hang out in the pool. Then there's also the time when Minho said he likes me, with the cushion and everything [laughs] that was just so special.

BRYAN: Just having with the guys, I guess, we were fooling around a lot, just lots of laughs.

-

HOST: Finally, we have come to the most awaited moment. Let me take a deep breath first [inhales] [exhales] Okay, we're ready now.

YOU: Where were we? [Laughs]

MINHO: The canceled trip and you were sad about it.

YOU: Yes, that... we had arguments like that not once or twice, I think that's just our love language [laughs]

HOST: That's kind of sexy, actually.

YOU: At that time, I just knew I had to be the one putting on the big girl pants, again [rolls eyes] if he didn't want to come to me then I'll just come to him.

HOST: Oh, my God! Is it like one of those movie scenes where the girl chasing the guy—

YOU: yeah, it's pretty much like that but the problem was... it was around Christmas and you know how hard it is to get a flight during holidays, it was a nightmare but I went through all that to see him.

HOST: And...?

YOU: It was cold and snowing, I dragged behind me, and knocked on his door, expecting that his face would light up when he saw me...

HOST: Oh, no, I sense a 'but' coming...

MINHO: I was just telling you to stop knocking [shrugs]

YOU: That's what he did, he scolded me for knocking on his door.

HOST: It keeps getting worse... I don't think I want to hear the rest.

MINHO: We're still together, we made up that day.

HOST: Oh, thank you Minho. I was close to having a cardiac arrest [clutches chest]

YOU: [Smiles] I didn't mean to scare anyone, sorry. We're still together, we still argue sometimes but we're still together, thank God!

HOST: That's good to hear so what are the plans now? Besides trying to be civil with each other [laughs]

YOU: Oh, before I forget, Minho also said the L word that day [giggles]

HOST: What? How could you hide it from it?

YOU: We were exchanging Christmas presents and he casually dropped the L bomb.

MINHO: Casually?

YOU: Honey... [laughs] I didn't say I don't like it. See? [Sighs] We need a couple counseling.

HOST: That's not a bad idea [chuckles]

YOU: I think it was special that there were only the two of us, it was intimate and heartfelt, and it couldn't be more perfect [smiles]

HOST: Minho, that... I didn’t know you were such a gentle guy.

MINHO: I've been meaning to say it, I just... didn't have the right time to say it.

YOU: Because we're always arguing.

HOST: [Laughs] I love that you guys complete each other's sentences.

YOU: I know, that's why I love us. That, and also because the make-up sex is just... [moans] [thumbs up]

HOST: Ugh, okay, you got me jealous now. I'll leave you two back to arguing then [laughs] Best wishes to you two, my loves! [Blows kisses]

-

HOST: It's been a blast catching up with all the casts of Too Hot To Handle Season 2. Thank you so much for watching, see you next time!

-

LAST CHRISTMAS 

"I don't chase, I attract."

You say those words out loud and manifest them to the world when you meditate in the morning but here you are, getting off the plane to chase a guy who canceled your planned trip at the last minute and not replying to your calls or texts.

You might have attracted him but nobody tells you that you have to chase him around too.

The layers of clothes that should have shielded you from the cold only make your body hot and soon drenched in sweat.

Why there are so many stairs? Why Minho has to live up on the hill? Why is your suitcase so heavy? Why did you pack so many clothes? Why are you here at all?

Despite the fatigue that slowly taking over you, you manage to conquer the last flight of stairs and arrive at his house.

After hours of bustling through the airport and the traffic, not to mention, dragging your luggage through the street, you're aware of how you look and it's not how you want Minho to see you when he opens the door.

But he should be appreciative of your intentions to come here and surprise him.

Right?

Can't believe you have second thoughts when you're already standing right in front of his door, why couldn't you have these thoughts before you got on the plane?

You throw away your worries and stop thinking altogether, your hands start knocking on the door. Once, twice... no one opens the door.

Oh, God? What if he's not home? What if—

You keep knocking on his door in case he didn't hear you the first two times. Your knocking is almost turning into a banging when he finally pulls the door open.

Minho stands there and looks at you with your hand hanging mid-air.

"You can stop knocking now," he says, scolding you for the aggressive knocking.

You don't expect confetti or cake or grand entrance music, but not this either, just you and him, looking at each other in silence.

Another moment passes and Minho opens the door wider, "Why are you just standing there? It's cold, get in!" He scolds you again.

It's only been a few minutes but he has scolded you twice already and weirdly, you obey him, getting into his house, pulling your luggage behind you.

Something is beeping from inside the house and Minho runs to check it, you allow yourself to go further inside. You take off your coat and purse, putting them on top of your suitcase before continuing to look around his house.

It's not small, not big either and it's obvious that he keeps it tidy and clean. You expect nothing less than that.

It's like seeing a movie scene, except that it's real. Minho looks exceptionally gorgeous in his dark sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and one hand that is busy stirring something in a pot.

"Go wash your hands!" He orders.

You're too deep in your daydream to listen to him the first time and only get what he said the second time.

"Dinner is almost ready," he adds, closing the pot with a lid and then turning off the stove.

"Where's the—"

"The door behind you," he answers your unfinished question.

You're too tired to bicker with him and the smell of the soup he's cooking is appetizing, making your stomach rumbling in hunger.

Is it why Minho is not that happy to see you? You look horrible with your eyes looking dark and heavy with exhaustion, your hair is greasy and stuck to your forehead.

There's no time to dig into your suitcase to get your toiletry bag so you do everything to make yourself look presentable, wash your face, and brush your hair with your fingers, hoping that it's enough for now.

Minho has already set everything on the dining table when you return from the bathroom, looking at the food he's serving, your stomach is getting impatient on being filled with some home-cooked meals.

"This looks good," you say, taking a seat on the dining table.

He doesn't say anything to your compliment but goes to the kitchen to bring back a pitcher of water, then sits opposite you.

Minho immediately starts digging into his food and as much as you want to do the same, you're hoping to hear something from him other than commands.

"Do you perhaps... want to say something to me?" You carefully say.

He continues eating, taking a few things from different plates and eating them with a spoonful of rice.

"Like... 'oh, what a nice surprise!' or 'I'm happy to see you, honey'," you recite a few lines you wished to hear him saying yet he seems to enjoy his food too much to pay attention to what you're saying.

You softly sigh and pick up your spoon, "A hug would be nice," you mumble.

He glances up from his bowl of rice and looks at you, "You must be hungry. Eat!"

You cave in, obeying him again, and eat the food just like he ordered. Maybe because you were hungry, you feel less upset now that your stomach is filled.

You help with the dishes after dinner, drying your hands with a towel once you're finished then refill your glass with more red wine before leaning against the counter, watching Minho slicing up fruits, he looks so relaxed but maybe because he's in his element, in his own place.

"You're different at home," you mutter, then take a small sip of your wine.

He glances at you for a second before focusing back on the task in hand, the hand gripping the knife showcasing the evident veins on his forearm.

"Off-guard," you point out.

He pauses cutting an apple then looks at you, "Should I be on guard?"

To other people, Minho may seem like he's trying to pick a fight with you but that's just how he communicates, a bit snarky with a whole lot of nonchalance in it.

It's a good thing that you've been with him long enough to know how to handle him. You put your wine glass away and smile, "You're the one holding a knife, I should be the one on guard."

He smirks hearing your words and it took you this long to make him do that.

"So... will you put the knife down so you can kiss your girlfriend who came all the way to see you?" You sweetly ask, tilting your head to the side and batting your eyelashes at him even though you're not sure these flirting tricks would work on him.

You see that he loosens the grip around the knife and you come closer to him, "That's it, easy, easy..." you playfully say.

You take his other hand and let the knife drop onto the cutting board, turning him to face you. Holding his eyes in a gaze, you slide your hands up his arms then reunite them on the nape of his neck.

"I missed you," you softly mutter but your heart is close to shattering.

"So much," you say all of those words out while deeply looking into his dark brown eyes as they stare down into yours.

"Do you miss me?"

Minho hates it when you're insecure like this but you can't help it, it's just happens when you care so much about someone so let's hope he still knows that.

Then he leans in and kisses you, answering your question with a fiery kiss that melts your worries away until the only thing that remains is the warm feeling he brings with those lips.

When he pulls away, you forget the reason why you ever doubted him.

He then rests his hand on your back, he then slowly and deliberately blinks his eyes before saying, "I missed you too."

It's nice to hear that you're not the only one suffering from the longing. You smile knowing that he thought of you when you weren't here with him even though you're sure not as many times as you thought of him.

"Okay, good, the feeling is still mutual," you awkwardly say with a dry chuckle.

What can you say? Dating Minho is not for the faint of heart, it takes a lot of patience and courage, and it takes... a lot of things.

But is he worth it? The answer is Minho worth everything and more.

- 

The shower helps you get rid of the stress that’s been clinging onto you and you come out refreshed, not feeling tired at all. If anything, you feel excited to spend the rest of the night with Minho, catching up on a lot of things.

Before that, you make yourself presentable this time, putting on your night dress and drying your hair real quick. You notice the toiletry bag Minho brought to the villa is on the sink and it seems like he packed it recently. You shrug it off, keeping your skincare routine brief, impatiently wanting to join Minho on his bed.

On your way to the bedroom, you also notice that he packed a suitcase in his closet, you wonder if he’s planning to go somewhere soon.

Minho is sitting on his bed reading a book, doing it so elegantly like he’s in a furniture TV ad.

“Are you going somewhere?” You get on the bed and lay on your stomach facing him.

“Huh?” He asks without looking away from his book.

You peek over to see the book he’s reading, from the cover you can see that it’s either a mystery, thriller, or horror book, it could be all of that combined.

“I saw your suitcase, packed,” you tell him.

He lowers his book to look at you, “unpacked, you mean,” he says.

Ah, that explains it but looking at how he keeps his things in his house tidy, there’s no way he lets his things stay in his suitcase for too long.

“You should dry your hair. You’ll catch a cold,” he says nonchalantly yet oozing with affection.

This is why you love him, he’s hot and cold, always keeping you on your toes, dating him is one endless thrilling ride.

“I just didn’t dry the end,” you tell him.

The talk about the suitcase reminds you of something. You roll over to the side of the bed and open your suitcase, taking two gift boxes you actually prepared for tomorrow. You bring them over to the bed, sitting next to Minho and place the smaller box first onto his lap.

“Merry Christmas,” You say with a bright smile on your face.

Minho raises an eyebrow at you then glares down at the gift on his lap, “What is it?”

“Your Christmas present from me,” you simply answer.

He seems way too calm for someone who receives a gift from his girlfriend and not sure you’re going to get used to this.

“Open it!” you impatiently say because he keeps observing the box and doing nothing to find out what’s inside.

He finally takes the lid off and sees the bracelet inside. You’re smiling as he takes it out to observe it. You hurriedly help him putting it around his wrist.

“Do you like it?” You ask once you clasped the ends together.

“Did you buy it with the prize money?” He asks with a sly grin.

Why he’s making it hard for you? You must admit that Minho makes you realize that you have a lot of patience in you. You take a deep, deep sigh and put on a big smile for him.

“I’m glad you like it and you’re very welcome,“ you respond, not going to make this supposed-to-be-a-heartfelt-moment into an argument.

It’s time to hand him the second box, instead of putting it on his lap, you drop it right on his crotch as a way to get back to him. He doesn’t flinch but pulls the box closer to his chest before opening it. You put your hand on top of the lid, stopping him from opening it.

“It’s not for you,” you tell him.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Then why did you give it to me?”

“Because I know you don’t have a Christmas present prepared for me so I got you one,” you explain.

It takes him a moment to process your words, “So, you bought this for me to gift to you?”

“Yes,” you answer without a beat.

He bursts into laughter and the box is shaking along with his body as he laughs, “So it- this one for you?”

You take the box from him and smile at him, “Thank you for the present, honey,” you say, then place a quick peck on his lips.

You put on an act, pretending not to know what’s inside the box and slowly uncovering it, taking the lid off with low exciting squeals coming out of your parted mouth. You tear through the wrapping paper and gasp at the sight of the content.

“Oh, my God! Honey…” You coo at him.

You take the pair of lingerie out of the box and show it to him, “This is so beautiful!” You exclaim with excitement even though you were the one who bought it.

“You like it?” He’s slyly smiling as he asks you.

“Are you kidding me? I love it!” You dramatically ask, clutching the gift close to your chest.

You lean in close and tilt your head to the side, “Ugh! You know me so well,” You sneer, then peck his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” He coyly asks.

You put everything into the box and sigh, “I wanted to put them on and show them to you but…”

You put the lid back onto the box, excessively raising your shoulders, and slump them down as you let out another dramatic sigh, “I’m not in the mood.”

Minho snorts and puts away the boxes, stacking them on the bedside table, “Yeah, you’d better rest, you must be tired.”

And Minho always picks the worst time to be considerate towards you, you roll your eyes and stomp your feet as you walk back to your suitcase, tossing the lingerie into your suitcase and angrily shut it.

“But if you’re not tired, I would love to see you in them,” he says with a devilish smile dancing on his beautiful face.

Hate that you melt right away to his sweet consolidation, your foot is tapping the floor as you pretend to consider his request.

“Well… if you insist,” you say, grabbing the lingerie back from your suitcase.

You’re giggling as you walk to Minho’s closet, changing out of your night dress and putting the lingerie on. As you’re changing, you see Minho’s backpack sitting next to his “unpacked” suitcase. You don’t mean to snoop but it’s open, you can see what’s inside. Using your fingers, you pry it open wider and see that he has a plane ticket clamped between his passport, you reach down to take a look at it when he calls from you from the bedroom.

It feels as if you got caught stealing, you scramble to leave the closet and Minho is putting something into his bedside drawer when you come back. He looks at you, confused to see you standing in a silk robe that comes with the lingerie.

“That’s not the same as what I bought for you,” he playfully says, sitting on the edge of the bed facing you.

You come up to him and stop right in front of him, “Jeez, Minho! You’re not a kid anymore, unwrap your gift yourself,” you tell him with a cheeky smile.

It’s a good thing that he can’t hear how fast your heart is beating right now and it’s beating faster when he looks up, staring into your eyes as his hands reach for your silk robe, untying it until they part open.

You do the rest, sliding the silk robe down your arms and letting it fall onto the carpeted floor. You take a final step, closing the gap between you and him.

He places his hands on each side of your waist, his fingers teasing the thin straps of the lacy underwear but his eyes never stray away from yours even for a moment

“So…?” You curiously ask since he’s not saying anything the moment he sees them on you.

He glides his hands up to your back and draws you close until his lips land on your abdomen, inhaling your scent as he kisses it, making you flutter inside. After a while, he glances up at you and says, “Glad I bought it.”

That sends you into a laughing fit and at the same, he pulls you until you both collapse onto the bed.

-

A breathless gasp escapes your parted mouth as Minho inserts his fingers inside you, he uses two digits to find that spot that makes you let out another gasp, louder, almost inaudible.

He’s hovering above you as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace and his face is so calm, a contrast to your state: a moaning mess under him.

He presses a kiss on you with tongue and teeth clashing in your mouth, his kisses are hungry, it feels as if he wants to eat you whole.

“Oh…” You moan again, feeling his fingers curl inside you.

Minho then drags his mouth down your chest, using his free hand he yanks down the cup of your bra just so he can suck on your nipple and leave it soaked and wet with his saliva. He continues his trail of wet kisses down your body and he stops with his head hanging between your legs, watching your eyes fluttering as he keeps pumping his fingers.

He pulls your underwear to the side and keeps it there, without wasting another second, he plants his mouth on your cunt, not caring how wet it is. He lifts his head for a moment, using the tip of his tongue to trace your folds and gently, circling your clit that is pulsating with so much desire.

Minho dives down into your wetness again and this time, he lands right on your clit and sucks hard on it.

“Oh, fu-“You can’t even finish your profanity, your voice is shaking and so are your legs.

You slip your hands into his hair, tugging at it as he keeps on sucking and it’s a fruitless effort to try to stop him, the more you try, the harder he sucks on your clit and the faster he pumps his fingers, making you overwhelmed with pleasure.

The only conclusion is Minho won’t stop until you

“I’m- oh, I’m cumming…” you whine, helplessly tugging at his hair.

He hovers above you again but now, he slowly puts his body on top of you, pinning you as he presses kisses on your lips, making you dizzy as he can’t stop kissing you until you run out of breath.

“Honey…” you sigh as you gently push his chest away.

You smile at him and put your hand on the back of his head, wanting to keep him close to you. As you catch your breath, you allow yourself to take a moment to enjoy this moment with him, placing a sweet kiss on his lips and then letting out a low sigh as you pull away.

“Gosh…how I missed you!” You pour out all of the emotions you’ve been keeping inside you and seal the hole in your heart with a kiss that yet again, takes your breath away.

It’s time to show him how much your body misses him. You pull the hem of his sweater and take it off of him to continue kissing him. Slowly, you roll him to the side until he lays next to you and overlaps half of his body with yours.

Minho lets you have the pleasure of doing whatever you want to him, he puts his hands over his head as your hand goes lower and slips it under his sweatpants, palming his member before letting it out.

You glance down to see how his cock is hardening in your hand, “Oh, he’s excited to see me,” you playfully mutter to him.

 “What are you going to do then?” He coyly asks.

“Mmh…” you delightfully sigh as you pretend to think of an answer all the while your thumb is circling the tip of his cock.

“I just have so many ideas,” you answer him with a seductive tone.

To execute your ideas, you first get rid of his sweatpants then sit on his thick thighs. You seductively smile at him as you take hold of his cock in your hand again, slowly stroking it with your clothed cunt only inches away from it.

You both wanted it but what’s the fun in giving in to the temptations right away?

His cock is swollen and hard, so ready for you and you are just as eager to take him but refrained yourself. Instead of that, you lean down to lick the tip of his cock with your tongue. The second time, you place a lick from the base up to the tip and then stroke it again.

“How you like that?” you tease him.

Minho doesn’t say anything, he remains calm but his body tells you otherwise, not only his cock, his body reddens all over, his chest, his ears, his cheeks… he’s completely turned on.

You tease him by rubbing his cock to your clothed core, “Mmh… yeah,” you hum in pleasure.

To tease him more, you put his cock inside your underwear, soaking it with your essence as you start grinding on him, unknowingly teasing yourself too in the process.

The yes he’s giving you… oh, it’s so intense, so full of lust, he looks at you like you’re the sexiest thing he ever laid his eyes on, making you feel so wanted, and admired. You suddenly feel a charge of confidence surging all over you and you lean down, kissing him with so much passion until you drain all the air in your lungs.

“Screw this!” you mutter.

 Carefully, you push his cock inside you and ease yourself down, taking him little by little until he’s fully sheathed inside you. You just sit there to adjust yourself to his size, closing your eyes as your hands start touching yourself.

Minho gets his hands on you too, he places them on your thighs and glides them up the sides of your body. You take his hands, using them to cup your breasts and fondle them together. You’re lowly moaning as he squeezes on them.

Minho only stops just to pull you close so he can kiss you, putting his arms around you to not let you go and without warning, he starts bucking his hips into you. You can tell he’s smirking against your lips while you let out a broken moan.

“That’s not-oh, not fair!” you mumble yet pressing another kiss on him.

Minho insists on you keeping the lingerie on, he ends up being the one taking it off of you and tossing it onto the bedroom floor. He made you climax twice already but Gosh, looking at him passionately making love to you, you can already tell you’re going to climax for the third time.

“Oh, my God! You feel so good,” You murmur into his shoulders with your fingers clawing his back.

Minho crashes his lips on you, deepening his kiss as he thrusts harder into you. He can sense that you’re about to cum again, he adds intensity to his thrusts and goes as shallow as possible.

Your eyes are screwed shut, feeling the knot inside you keep tightening, getting close to your-

Minho slows down, knowing that you just cum around him and the way he kisses, it’s so gentle as if he knows that you’re already overly stimulated.

You hold him close as you come down from your high, returning his kisses while keeping him inside you.

“You’re not going to stop, are you?”

You brush his hair back with your fingers, putting all the hair covering his face and holding his jaw, “Don’t stop, honey,” you whine.

Nothing gets him off than hearing how needy you are for him. You wrap your legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer, “I don’t want you to stop until you cum inside me,” you whisper into his ear.

That seems to work as planned, Minho picks up the pace of his thrusts, harder and deeper, giving what you both wanted.

You give up on holding in your moans, you let them spill out of your parted mouth and as he gets closer to his release, you press a haste kiss on his mouth.

“Want you to cum inside me, honey,” you whine again.

You have to pause a few times as he mercilessly pulsates his hips against you and the bed creaks along to his movements.

“Oh, please, please!” you sigh.

“Minho, please!”

At this point, you can’t tell if you’re begging him to stop or keep going, the pain and pleasure start to blur into one. You hold onto his shoulders with fingers digging into this flesh and forming crescent marks on his warm, honey skin.

It takes Minho a few more thrusts to finally cum inside you, releasing all of his seed inside you as he collapses on top of you. You embrace him, holding him with so much love, and kiss him with all of your heart until it quakes inside your chest.

Minho hastily kisses your lips, then drags his mouth close to your ear, you’re already drowsy and tired from the day that you barely can keep your eyes open anymore. You can hear him mutter something into your ear but when you’re about to tell him to repeat it, you fall asleep instead.

-

"Honey, wake up!"

If it isn't because of the hand squeezing your asscheek, you wouldn't have budged from your sleep. When you try to open your eyes, they are heavy and you feel like taking another hour of sleep.

Then Minho bites at your arm, making you jolt on your bed in reaction.

"Minho!" You sharply gasp.

"Wake up!" He says again, now slapping at your ass cheek.

Your feet are kicking the duvet as you whine like a fussy kid, "It's too early."

You turn over on the bed, lying on your side to face him, and croak, "What time is it?"

"One."

"One a.m?"

Minho presses a kiss on your shoulder then gets up from the bed, "Come on, wake up!"

He walks out of the bedroom and leaves the door ajar. You force yourself away and rub your eyes before opening them.

The daylight is almost blinding you and you immediately shut your eyes again, scooting to the side and your hand reaches for your phone on the bedside table.

You tap the screen until it lights up, showing you that it's indeed one o'clock in the afternoon. You must be tired from the flights, dragging your suitcase up the hill in the cold, and then there was the sex, a lot of sex. You remember how you passed out not long after he cum inside you.

Oh no, you missed the whole Christmas morning and that's not the plan. You thought of how nice it would be to snuggle together with Minho on the sofa while having hot chocolate on Christmas morning.

Instead of that, you stand in front of the sink and feel horrified to see your reflection in the mirror, how tired and miserable you look after ten hours of sleep.

Instead of wearing your clothes, you stop by his closet and borrow one of his comfiest knitted sweaters. His suitcase and his backpack are still there, you assume he didn't know you were snooping into his stuff.

Well, there's another reason to snoop in further to see where he's going with the flight ticket. You check for the situation first and waddle back inside, taking his passport out of the bag.

Minho looks so hot even on a government-issued ID photo and before you forget the main goal here, you flip it open to see the details of his flight ticket and you see it.

Unless he has someone else to see in the city you live in, you can safely assume that he planned on coming to see you too, and probably wants to spend the new year with you.

"I knew it!" You exclaim to yourself with a giddy smile on your face.

You wanted to remain calm and pretend that you didn't see the flight ticket and everything but... you can't help but smile when you see him sipping his coffee in the kitchen.

Minho is what people say as one with the softest heart builds the hardest shell. He acts cold, nonchalant, and a bit mean, but that's how you know he really cares for you, and he's genuine and sincere about you.

You come up to him and throw your arms around him, not wasting time kissing his lips, putting all of your affection into this long kiss, and pull away with a gasp.

"Merry Christmas," you happily say to him.

Minho smiles and returns the kiss with a quick peck on your lips, "Coffee?"

You eagerly nod and you wait on the sofa, taking a cookie out of a plate full of them, watching the snow floating in the air through the window.

"Thank you," you mutter as he hands you your cup of steaming hot coffee.

"This is good," you tell him, taking another cookie from the plate.

"I made them," he casually says like he didn't put any effort into baking such delicious cookies.

Minho is good at a lot of things so when he said he made these cookies, you didn't doubt him even for a second.

You place a kiss on his cheek, "These are really good," you tell him again.

You might have missed the Christmas morning but there's always a time to snuggle close to him. It's quiet and warm, it's such a nice moment and to be able to spend it with him is one that you're most grateful for.

Suddenly, Minho takes something from the end of the sofa and shows it to you.

"For you?"

You stop chewing your cookie and put the rest away, "For me?"

He nods and coyly sips his coffee, watching you excitedly unwrapping the gift to find out what's inside.

You gasp as you see a necklace inside, white gold with a small pendant, delicate and beautiful.

"I love it," you tell him with a gleeful smile.

It's always the thoughts that counts. The fact that he thought of you when he picked this gift worth more than the gift itself.

"You should be. I bought it with my own money," he pokes fun at you.

You pout at him, handing him the box so he can put it on for you. You hold all of your hair up in your hands as he puts the necklace around your neck, safely clasping the ends together.

"I love it," you mutter again, letting go of your hair so you can bring his head close and give him a sweet little kiss on his lips.

"Thank you," you say as you break the kiss with a soft caress on his cheek.

He smiles and places a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw. When you think he's going to kiss your neck next, he brings his mouth close to your ear, and ever so softly he murmurs, "I love you."

Your heart shrinks and the next second, it expands twice its size, overflowing with warm feelings. You feel like flying, riding on the clouds of those three words.

"What did you say?" You ask with a foolish smile on your face.

He slyly smiles and sips his coffee, "You heard," he says.

"I heard but..." you lean in close to his side and hold his hand, "can you say it one more time?"

Your sweet smile and the fondness in your eyes are not enough to make him cave in. You should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

You pout and then sigh, but you feel the need to return those words to him. It's not because you have to, but you have known for a while that he is not just a passing fancy, you see a future with him, and as silly as it sounds, you can see yourself growing old with him.

What you have for him is real and it's powerful, it's taking over you.

You hold his jaw and turn his head to look at you, you lean in close until your noses meet in the middle, softly you nuzzle them together while softly smiling at him.

"I love you," you say back with all of your heart that it aches.

Then you place your lips against him and let your heart pour out, flowing all of your emotions into the kiss.

When you open your eyes, his eyes are staring straight into yours. He holds your gaze and lovingly, he says those three words again for you.

"I love you."

And in his eyes, you find comfort, safety, you find a home you want to live in, forever.

-

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[onlyseokmins]

$$60 billion (part 1) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: eventual smut (minors dni!), trigun!au action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, death, gore, guns, injuries, destruction, mentions of knives, weapons, violence, creepy monsters and creatures, ptsd, moral ambiguities, dark topics tbh, smoking, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, platonic (but not really) nakedness, reader is operating on a short fuse bc I believe u have to be built different for this universe, their communication is abt to be as poor as the plant life 💀 Seungcheol kinda his own warning imho, biggest apology to chan, and we all love seok sm bc he sings abt total slaughter 🙇🏻‍♀️ WC: 19.5k of 32.7k | Part 2 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I feel like the boys may seem ooc but I had a lot of fun putting this together 😌 Thank you Summer and Isa for hosting this collab and your utmost patience in me finally writing my piece! I hope everyone enjoys this and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!!

Everyone wanted Lee Seokmin. 

The cities' great militaries. Bounty hunters. Bandits on the roads. Criminals escaping death row. Prowling pirate gangs. His twin brother. You. 

Though you reckoned your "want" for him was a bit… different from others. Well, at least you hope so, goddamn it. 

You shiver. 

At first, you wanted him just like the mass majority would one day as well — dead. The deed swiftly carried out with a silver pistol aimed at his temple.

Besides, your blood-thirst began before the destruction of July. Unlike most, who angrily shake their fists at the gaping crater on the fifth moon in the spirit of pure vengeance. Yes, the tragic incident of the great city that upped the bounty dangling over his head like a noose to a sixty billion double dollars reward. But Little Ivywood was the first of many places that would end up reduced to ruins after Lee Seokmin set foot there.

Wiped off the map. Wiped from history. Wiped from existence. But never forgotten. Especially not by the small town's only known survivor — you.

Your earliest memories contain little about the events that led up to being left on the doorstep of Little Ivywood's unofficial orphanage. How could they when you were just a baby? One swaddled in a ratty cloth weighted down by a rusted pistol. There was just one simple hint to your past — scribbled nearly illegible on a torn piece of paper dotted with blood — and could only be what the nuns had to assume was your name.

At least that's how Sister Meryl relayed the tale whenever asked, her hands clasped tightly together in praise and gratitude to the Saint that delivered you to them unharmed. The irony, considering Sister Lucia always looks like she'll faint just like the day she opened the convent's side door. It wasn't an easy sight to see or recall, the image of a wailing infant mouthing on the empty muzzle of a gun.

Neither versions of your origin story could be that far off thanks to the scar marring your left hand and the gun held tightly in your right. You've had both for as long as you can remember. And as you grew and changed, so did they.

The scar shrunk and faded through the years, seemingly forgotten amongst a myriad of other markings littered across your skin. Over time, the pistol's rusted parts were repaired or replaced and soon, its shine and character returned. Restored to its former glory while forging a new beginning ahead with a different owner.

But there were two things that stayed constant throughout your years at the orphanage. The first was your birth name. Not even the nuns, who generally loved bestowing scriptural monikers as if they were granting rich titles to unnamed orphans, tried to change yours. The second was a person who you still refuse to call by his baptismal name — Chan.

He helped you, became an assistant of sorts. Originally just some snot-nosed, beanpole of a fellow orphan you didn't really pay much attention to. A scared kid who cried way too loudly even after you'd even taken the time to demonstrate that the gun was safe after he'd been the one continuously pestering to see it. Very much to Sister Constance's chagrin, since it all went down in the middle of confessional time.

But curiosity eventually overturned the initial fear.

Lucky, because by acquiring bravery, Chan could discover his innate talent for gunsmithing. Lanky, noodle arms transformed into well-formed, sinewy muscles. The soft baby skin of his hands roughened with callouses as he whittled away near the convent's underground furnace. He'd spend hours down there, returning with sweat, grime, and charcoal smudged all over his skin after melting together the random metal objects found by digging beneath the basement's unfinished floor.

The Sisters disliked dirt and grime all over the children and tracked through the doors. But it was hard to keep clean out in the middle of a sandy desert. Complaints dwindled thanks to the fellow orphans who would stop their mischief to watch Chan work. And as time passed, his shoulders broadened further, his voice began to deepen, his dark hair grew longer, and those brown eyes started to sparkle with something different from simple, fleeting passion — it was a dream.

The excitable boy would tell you all about it under the stars. Late into the nights when you searched for what had to be remnants of Earthen materials from the Big Fall, he'd chatter on and on.

"Once we're actual adults," — free from the guardianship requirement provided from the orphanage — "we're gonna leave Lil Ivywood behind and explore the great wastelands of Gunsmoke!"

You snort at the ridiculousness of such an idea. "And how do you think we'll survive?"

"Easy-peasy, I'm gonna build a bunch of guns and we're gonna end up so rich. And famous!"

"Yeah, sure. Throw a couple double dollars at the worms, I'm sure they'll let us pass with no problem."

Not one to be deterred by your eternal sarcasm, Chan shakes his head."Nah, that's where you come in. Didn't think I'd let you freeload, right?"

He stands and stretches both of his arms straight out, the ones your roommate had started to gush over. Hands clasped together like Sister Meryl's always do before prayer time and then extending both pointer fingers into a mock handgun, out into the distant sand dunes one rarely dares to stray.

"You gotta be a sharpshooter to not let my hard work go to waste!"

You lazily take aim next to him, handling the freshly restored pistol with uncharacteristic gentleness. While it might officially be yours, it's also Chan's baby.

"Mm-hm, me and my killer skills."

And then you both dissolve into laughter.

It was such a pipe dream and yet; it didn't seem utterly impossible. There were little moments you let yourself imagine it, too — just until the suns peep their heads above the horizon. There was no way you could defend yourself — let alone another person — from the dangers of the desert or it would've been something you'd attempted years ago.

But when Chan spoke of his plans under the glow of the orbiting full moons, confidently mapping an adventure through an area he's never been to or seen before, and dreamed — he easily pulled you under his spell too. It was contagious, exciting, addicting, and most of all — it could really be… possible.

An armory of grade-A weapons. The bank account overflowing with double dollars. Endless boxes of bullets and the refined skills to shoot them; you were the force to be reckoned with and a protector of those who couldn't do it for themselves.

"Do you think… we could really succeed?" you ask one night, running a finger along the familiar engravings on your gun's grip panel.

Chan's grin was as shiny as the circular metal shell he was carving into. You refuse to look his way because of how infectious it could be. Plus, the main reason it was so stinking bright was due to this being the first time you verbally entertained his ideas.

"Oh-ho-ho, doubt my capabilities?"

"Obviously."

If offended — he was not — by the instant agreement, there was no sign of it. Instead, he focused back onto his handicraft, knowing you would eventually spill your true thoughts if he was patient.

There was no rush tonight after all. A star-filled expanse of black blanketed across the sky — one he hoped would never change to blue.

"More like… it's just going to be so risky!"

"And that's why you'll be the —"

"But I've never even held a gun before!" You spot Chan pointedly direct the corner of his gaze to where your hands rest, causing you to flinch them away from the weapon and wave around haphazardly as your cheeks heat. "I mean, like, to shoot! Sister Lucia always says it'd be too dangerous."

"Sister Lucia thinks water that doesn't flow directly out of the holy grail is dangerous."

"Technically, that's true."

"Oh god, she's got you thinkin' the same, too!"

"But she'd probably rather swear by the Saint than ever let me get any bullets…" The thought alone of the devout nun saying the Savior's name in vain makes both of you smirk but yours falls just as quick as it came. "And we're going to need those if we ever want to leave Little Ivywood."

"Well —"

"And I… I'd have to kill things! People, too. I don't know if I can do that, I —"

" — Think fast!"

It's his turn to interrupt, chipper voice ever optimistic as he tosses the finished trinket your way. Thankfully, your reflexes work fast enough to catch it nimbly in time. The oval is hot to the touch after hovering over searing flames and despite its small size, weighs down your right palm as you glance over its etchings.

Satisfied, Chan takes that as his cue to walk toward the nook that shields you from the roaring heat of the furnace. Squatting down so he's eye-level with your knees, he brushes back his tangled mess of hair with one hand and taps knowingly at the barrel of the pistol with the other.

"There's no reason to kill anyone or anything."

"But this can hurt people… I could hurt people."

"You've had this ever since you were a baby and never harmed anyone with it."

"It's… it's never been loaded or…"

"Doesn't need to be. If you smacked someone with it, they'd surely feel that hit." He snickers, tone bordering on the edge of cockiness. "I would know, considering the sturdy and valuable materials used for repairs."

You roll your eyes and mutter, "Show-off," but it lacks true malice behind it.

"And even so," Chan takes one of his hands and pats the back of your free one, unintentionally right over the spot where your scar lies. "You've hurt no one before. Not even me, who annoys you the most!"

"About time you finally realized how merciful I am."

He says your name in earnest, remaining uncharacteristically serious and lays your intertwined hands on top of the gun before squeezing tightly. "Both this and you don't have to kill a single thing or person — ever — if that's not what you want to do. You can aim for non-vital points, shoot up in the air… Bullets or no bullets, just the sight of a weapon alone can be enough of a deterrent for most."

Chewing hesitantly on your lower lip, you let his words sink in and he continues.

"The fact you're aware of the hundreds of risks when handling a weapon like this means you'll be even more cautious when using it. I trust you, so trust in yourself."

Warmth spreads from your interlocked hands and through your entire body like you're wrapped in another one of his sweet hugs, culminating into tears threatening to spill past your lash line. Chan believed in you and though you'd never admit it aloud, it meant the world to you.

"When did you grow up so much?" you tease, letting out an exhale you didn't realize was being held.

"Aw, c'mon! I've been taller than you for months now!"

"Keep dreamin' if it makes you feel better."

Though Chan sasses back by sticking his tongue out, he lets you ruffle his sweaty bangs despite receiving a slightly bruised forehead in return because you forget about the new gift in your hand. Plotting an escape, he stands and pulls you up with him, joined by your clasped hands.

"We should probably head back. Sister Constance's likely gonna ask us to check the Plant before morning mass and you don't want her to catch you dozing off again."

"Last I recall, you were the one she caught napping!"

"But you have the most demerits this week."

"And whose fault is that?!"

Quick as lightning, he nudges you with enough strength to catch you off guard and destabilize your balance. Then he tears away, calling over his shoulder, "Snooze and ya lose!"

"Ugh, this is exactly why — you never play fair!"

Regathering your bearings at record speed, you dash right after Chan. The boy's raucous laughter echoes in your own lungs and you swear the stars twinkle brighter in the nighttime sky. You overtake him right before reaching the convent's door — the same one you were left on — and clutch at his arm before he can reach past to open it.

"Hey… thanks."

He grins all goofy. Chan's well aware you mean much more than that, but he opts to flick your forehead rather than give you grief over it. "Yeah, yeah. I do so much for you, you know?"

"Mm-hm."

"So it's about time to finally pick a name I can carve onto that bad boy. If you don't, I'll put mine there." He nods to your gun excitedly, then points to the oval. "Oh, and I'll make a chain for that soon. Did you decide what you'll put inside?"

"Questions, questions, demands, demands." You wave him off and open the door with a yawn. "I'll think of one. And yeah, you know that Earthen gadget we found? Gonna cut out those papers and put them in there before sleeping."

Once while digging for materials, you had stumbled across a square object that wasn't completely destroyed, unlike many others. After a few experiments of messing with the random knobs and buttons, you determined it could mimic whatever was directly in front of the clear coated lenses. And later — much to your amusement and amazement — it printed out the image on thick, shiny squares.

Fascinating little things those Earthlings created!

You'd luckily put the last few sheets left in the machine to good use. Experimenting with the surrounding scenery that blurrily featured some of Ivywood's buildings, then one of Chan, and finally wrangled a frame that captured both of you together.

"Do you think you'll be able to stabilize it?"

Your tentative question makes him look toward the large, bulbous structure that houses the Plant. The power source Little Ivywood depended upon.

He sports a cheery grin. "Won't know 'til I've tried!"

"Ever considered too much confidence might be a bad thing?"

"If you're jealous, just say so. But with you by my side, there's nothing we can't accomplish together!" He bounces excitedly on his heels. "Besides, I forgot to mention…" Beckoning you with a hand to come closer, you lean in, curious. "I've become quite the master at bargaining. There won't be a single worm who'll refuse a double dollar from the great Chan!"

"What did you do?"

"What haven't I done?"

"You're the worst. Like to ever exist."

"The absolute best, you mean 'cause there'll be no reason for you to waste any bullets or fear cutting a single lifespan short!"

"Goodnight, Chan."

"You mean 'thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Chan!' but whatever! You can make it up to me tomorrow!"

But tomorrow never came.

Or rather — daybreak arrived in the unrecognizable form of rapid gunfire and screams of terror. The buildings rattled, trembled, and shook from the onslaught just like the people cowering in fear within them.

The dust stirred up in the chapel's hall after a wall unexpectedly collapsed causes you to cough. Amidst the chaos and panic, you spare a glance over your shoulder to see Sister Meryl, who strides confidently to the altar.

She stands with poise and purpose in front of the marbled stone. Steadfast and unwavering in strength because of her faith alone, even as the grand statue of the Saint starts crumbling down with the ceiling tiles falling around it.

It's a visual you're not likely to forget, carved deep into your memory before you flee with the rest. Sister Lucia is flustered as usual, ushering everyone as fast as she can near the grand oak doors that lead out to where additional shouting can be heard and only more pandemonium must await outside.

You're struck with the damning realization.

The gods — they have completely abandoned humankind.

"That would be ten demerits any other day," Sister Constance voice abruptly snaps, "fortunately for you, now is not the time for such things."

It's astonishing how even at this moment, the nun remains on high alert for 'troublemakers'. Her sharp-nailed fingers latch around your wrist as she breezes by — much too similar to when you've been dragged off to detention. And as if that's what's happening, your heels plant firmly in the ground and obstinately tug her back a step.

"What about Sister Meryl? We can't just leave!"

"If you knew what was good for you, you'll obediently obey me. But if you knew that, you'd recognize faithfulness will guide her and the rest of us to safety."

"Nothing guarantees —"

"Those who do not devote themselves truthfully will never understand. Should the Saint deem Sister Meryl's sacrifice to be in vain, then she has failed not only the Holy Bishop and our sacred bonds, but you — one she unnecessarily dotes on — as well."

You want to argue and protest as Sister Constance yanks you forward. But the faint tremors you feel despite the tight grip of her hand and the tensed jawline of the woman whose stoic face is normally unbreakable makes you pause.

She's shaken. She's unsure. She's wavering.

Sister Constance doubts.

And something about that thrills you. Terrifyingly so.

The shock of it all is as startling as the pale sunlight blinding your eyes when the chapel's heavy doors finally get thrown open. Grains of sand swirl through Little Ivywood, diluting the usual brightness of the glowing orbs in the sky and their powerful rays.

A sandstorm brews on the horizon.

That's the least of your worries, though. Blood stains the soil where shrapnel grazed tender flesh. Fellow orphans scream and cry out from their wounds as they struggle to get away from the captors attempting to drag them to the center of town.

With a chill, you alarmingly realize who they're trying to escape from. Women in black and white robes don a wild, crazed look on their faces. The ones who have raised and cared for parentless children throughout many years and tended to every need they could within their means.

The Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood.

Sister Constance turns and you jump. Both at the horrors of the present and a reminder of how many times a quick movement of hers led to the sharp pain of a switch or ruler tearing into skin. An eerie sound of laughter rings out and your blood runs cold, eyes darting left and right for the source.

And then through the dust particles, looms the sinister silhouette of a figure in a long trench coat flapping in the wind. Spiked hair sticks straight up, retaining its menacing style despite the powerful wind gusts and emphasizing an already impressive height. You gulp, swearing there's a flash of metal followed by a fanged smirk that glints dangerously as Sister Constance tugs you closer to the terrifying shadow beast shrouded by sand swirling in the air.

A declaration of your given name — stern and cold. "Know that your purpose is being fulfilled, that you are serving the great —"

And then comes a shout of your name, this time from someone desperate and panicked. You're yanked forward and then suddenly catapulted backward, grunting at the impact of your body slamming against someone else's.

"You need to go! You need to get out of here!"

"Chan?!"

He clings to you, shifting so his back is to the nun only a few paces past the corner he dashed around for safety and to stall for time. Throwing a cautious look over his shoulder before whispering urgently, "Go! And don't look back!"

"What about you?"

"Don't mind me." The smooth leather of a satchel presses against your palm. "Get movin'!"

"But —"

"Seriously," the boy shoves you forward with a not-so-gentle push. You gape at the audacity and he waves his hand, like he's shooing away a pesky flying worm. Rude. "Please! I'll be right behind you but —"

An eruption of nearby gunfire and a series of high-pitched shing!-like noises interrupt him. He glances again over his shoulder. You cautiously step forward and his head whips back to let out a hiss.

"Chan, what's —"

"Need to grab a few more things, see if any other idiots need help. Just… just get out of town, wait for me by the rocks if it'll make you feel better." He smiles, though it doesn't make those brown eyes of his sparkle like usual. "It'll… it'll all be okay."

You're uncertain and scared. But something about Chan's speaking powers have always made you believe in the impossible. So, you nod resolutely while taking the bag from him and warn, "Promise you'll be safe."

"You hate those kinds of things."

It's true. To you, promises were only made to be broken. And yet…

"… And somehow you've changed my mind before."

The bangs of carnage draw closer. Louder.

"Fine, just go. Please! And don't look back!"

Acquiescing to his pleas, you sprint toward where he pointed. Sitting like giant sentinels lays an outcrop of boulders bordering the western edge of Little Ivywood. The desert is only two paces away, expanding outward into a desolate plain filled with the undulating slopes of dunes. Picking a sizable rock to hide behind, you keep watch for Chan, cringing at the distant sound of gunshots still rapidly being fired.

What was that? What did you see? And what did you almost get dragged into?

What was going on?

Boom!

It's an ear-shattering noise that causes even the great stones around you to tremble from the explosion. A flare of light so bright leaves you no choice but to look away to protect your eyes, ducking behind the rocks as a shield.

When you recover after it dissipates to see what just happened — Little Ivywood is no more.

It's gone.

"No…"

The tiny town reduced to only rubble and ash. What once were rows of square buildings stacked on top of each other to divert the view of a relatively flat lay of the land are now parallel to its surroundings.

"No… no… no…"

Gone.

You don't think twice about running toward the wreckage. Chan is there. Chan has to be there!

"No!"

And most importantly, he has to be alright.

Broken piles of the shoddy architecture littering the landscape prevents you from traversing too far. Bile rises in your throat as you desperately scan for a sign — any sign — for Chan. For survivors. For anyone. Even the air is still, no longer rippling with irritable heat waves and heavy gusts of wind because the blast was strong enough to ward off nature itself and the incoming sandstorm.

For now.

And during the futile search, that's when you spot him. On his knees with his back to you, slouched over in the only clear space amidst the destruction. The tattered fabric of a cerise garment hangs off the man's broad shoulders and pools around his body like a puddle of blood. Reddish-brown bangs tinged with black hang limply as his chin curls further and further into his chest.

I don't understand, you vent to yourself after a couple ungraceful vaults and stumbling through the debris to get closer. This bastard got what he wanted, did what he wanted, and won! So, why is he acting like that? Who destroyed his town? His people?

Finally, you're a couple steps behind him. Thankful, at the very least, for whatever weird state this man is in because it grants you the opportunity to approach and press the cold steel of your pistol to the side of his temple.

"Don't. Move."

You hope it comes out as the threatening command you intend it to be. There's a tense beat of silence as you wait for his next move until you realize he's doing exactly what you demanded.

Then he chuckles. A choked out, watery sort of sound. Your hands start shaking even as they press the barrel harsher against his head.

"Go ahead and shoot."

"Answer me first." Your voice becomes as unsteady as the quakes in your body and you rasp out, "Why… why'd you do it?"

His head lifts and you flinch, but he takes no further action besides staring blankly ahead at the ruins. "I wish I could tell you but… I've been asking myself the same question."

"I — you…! You wreak hell and havoc upon a whole innocent town and… and you don't even know why?!"

"Pathetic, isn't it?" The man laughs again, without a shred of humor. A gloved hand reaches up to wrap around the weapon and you momentarily falter at the force of him leaning into it. The weight pushing it closer into his skull seems hard enough to leave a nasty imprint, as if that should be a main concern right now. "I'd simply like to know how I did it."

"I —"

"Not loaded," he sighs and drops his hand, twisting around to actually get a proper look at whoever was holding him at gunpoint.

You're taken aback by the intensity of death radiating in those dark brown irises that casually observe you through amber-colored, cracked lenses. Your arms fall down, dumbfounded at the stranger's unflinching behavior, the pistol bumping into your thigh. He lets out a "tsk" and then pulls something out of his pocket.

In his opposite palm, clad in a fingerless glove unlike the left, rests a conical golden object. Though you've never seen one in real life before, you think you know what it is. The shape matches the hollow outlines when Chan disassembled the chambers of your gun.

"A cartridge," he says and you blink. "A bullet," he clarifies upon noticing your confusion. Then the man smiles encouragingly. "Go on. Take it."

You're incredulous. "You're okay with handing that over to me?"

"It's what you want, right?" There's a wistful look on his face. "This place… it was your home."

"No," you're quick to refute, shocked at such an automatic response. Then admitting, "I don't even know what a home is."

Innocent town, my ass, is what you derisively admit inward and snort at yourself.

The convent itself was far from comforting. The other orphans with their bright grins when Saint Meryl sang lullabies on the nights you couldn't sleep — those were the kinds of things that made it bearable.

Guilt.

"I — I —"

It overwhelms your senses. Rattling up your entire nervous system and settling a cruel, cruel weight in your chest. You hunch over, chest heaving, and throat burning. There's a thump as your gun falls to the ground, its silvery sharp edges becoming distorted, warped, and blurred through a film of unshed tears in your widened eyes.

"Should've… It should've —"

"Hey, hey…"

"It should've been me!"

The man rises to his full height, brushing off his clothes before crouching down. A sturdy hand grips your shoulder and dutifully encourages your gasping upper body into an upright position. Gently, ever so fragile, he bops your forehead with his and you subconsciously lean against the unexpected support.

He's near enough to ground you to something solid. But distant enough for two strangers whose first meeting is one amidst a crumbling town's travesty. With his close presence comes the scent of gun smoke, though not as bitterly pungent and putrid as you recall from before. It's subtle and smokey, reminiscent of the fire that Chan once proudly stoked in his makeshift forge.

Your body shakes as the tears finally slip free.

"All lives are equally precious, one shouldn't be sacrificed for another."

"… How can… how can you say that so… easily?"

The death-come-over look in his eyes changes to something faraway. Like he's seeing something beyond the destruction surrounding both of you. Those amber lenses don't have to be cracked to draw attention to the fracturing despair radiating behind them.

Then, he shakes his head and shrugs. "Because you should live even when those dear to you are gone. This world is made of love and peace, after all."

Your crying abruptly pauses with the natural effort it takes to let out a scoff. Ignoring your utter scorn and disbelief, the man's gaze drifts to the pistol still on the ground. The tip of a steel-toed boot kicks it up into the air with a flourish, single-handedly catching it to inspect the weapon with practiced ease.

"Live because there's a reason you survived, even if you loathe every second of it. You'll feel like you don't deserve it. But persevere because you should. Because that's what they would've wanted and you keep them alive by living yourself. A burden? Maybe. Why spend such a cursed blessing only dwelling in regret when you can do so much more?"

He offers the gun back, its handle extended in your direction.

"If nothing else, live for yourself most importantly. Help show the world the love and peace it deserves. Even if it couldn't afford to gift it to you. That's what life is all about. The ticket to the future is always blank!" Pausing, he shrugs with a regret-filled smile on his face. "At least that's what I was taught… and what I think."

"… Awfully full of optimism for some dude who wiped out a full town and doesn't even know why."

"Name's Seokmin," he returns, now sporting a cheeky grin as you cautiously reach out for the pistol. Only to be outsmarted with a literal 'sleight-of-hand' and meeting the warmth of fingers and a gloved palm instead of the expectation of hard, cold, and familiar steel.

"Huh?"

"Lee Seokmin, to be precise! And it's a pleasure to meet 'cha! Erm, despite the… terrible circumstances." Seokmin jiggles the gun in front of you with his other hand, almost taunting you to reach for it again.

You don't.

"And what do you call this lovely lady?"

"Nothing."

"A shame. But not everyone cares to name things, 'specially if they don't hold any value." He finally tosses it back and you barely manage to catch it in time with a scowl.

"Just haven't decided."

"I see! Mine's Geranium."

"Oh, like… the flower?"

He visibly perks up at that even further, a radiant smile showcasing two pointy fangs. "You've heard of it?"

"Well," you scratch your cheek, "the, uh, sisters gave a girl that name because of her hair."

There's an uncomfortable pause as the dreadful realization you'll never see those brilliant ruby locks bounce because of her excitement again settles back into your stomach. You swallow, eyes roaming the stranger in front of you for a distraction.

"Um… you must really like the color… red."

Seokmin glances down at the tatters of his scarlet clothes and shrugs. "I guess. Though the one I saw was red, I've heard they come in different colors."

"You've seen a plant? Like a plant plant? A real one! You know — that grows out of the ground and transforms and all that? It doesn't, well…"

Vegetation was a rarely discussed concept. The only thing you knew came out of the poorly written history books in the dusty library's darkest corner. In the desert outskirts, you had a better chance of finding ancient Earth technology that might still be intact to share its plethora of knowledge about the old world humans left behind than hope to find whatever resources the big cities had access to.

"Mm, yeah, a long time ago. But say," he jovially waves the cartridge from before and it glints in the setting rays of the suns. "Would you care to hear this man's story before shooting him?"

And of course, you listened. What other choice did you have, you who lost everything at once? But even back then, something small and precious was planted in the barren depths of your heart. That was just the beginning. It would continue to grow, watered and tended to under the sunny smile of Lee Seokmin — the destroyer of cities and a very wanted man across the planet.

You leave that tiny bit out during the recitation of your past to the inquisitive pastor. Though something you'll regrettably find out later is he's already got you all figured out.

Bastard.

"… So, that's how I met the infamous Lee Seokmin and didn't end up killing him," you declare with a flourish and take a satisfied gulp of cheap beer picked up from some abandoned mart along the way out of Little Jersey.

Draining another bottle dry, you toss away the metal cap, close one eye, and peer through the narrow bottleneck like it's a telescope — albeit a very poor one.

Through the distorted glass stretch endless sand dunes as far as the eye can see. Stars glitter and sparkle amid the glow of the full moons in orbit, temporarily dimmed by a puff of the roguish's man's cigarette that wafts through the inky darkness.

You wonder if he'd be willing to share one.

"A shame," Seungcheol grumbles and offers a white stick from his pocket.

You take it eagerly only to see it's nothing but — a lollipop. The hard candy's become a strange gooey consistency thanks to melting in the desert heat all day and partially re-solidifying during the nighttime's chilly air.

It's stale too.

Fucker.

You let out a disdainful sniff but nod in agreement to his statement. "It is. But he promised me something. Then his bounty increased from a meager six million to sixty billion double dollars after destroying July, putting a hole in the moon, and all that. So… following him around has paid off."

"I guess," he shrugs, "guess I don't really care 'bout yer lil meet-cute story."

You gape at the audacity. "You're the one who fuckin' asked!"

"Well… figured we could bond, ya know? Orphans 'n all that cozy, feel-good shit."

"You know, not a single thing I've said thus far coud be classified as 'cute'."

"Uh-huh."

"And I never took you to be a sentimental fool."

"Hey, now —"

You hold up a hand. "'Thou shall not bear false witness'."

"As if ya even know what that means," Seungcheol retorts and flicks the ashy cigarette stub in your direction, the cross around his neck ironically reflecting in the moonlight. "Was gonna say, if anythin', I put the mental in sentimental, sweet'art."

Well, you certainly wouldn't argue with that point. "…What I do know is that you're doing this all. For him."

"'Ol Needle Noggin, eh?"

"Well… yeah. But he's only part of a bigger picture for you."

"… 'S none o' yer business, ya know? Best to know less."

Your eyes roll. "Sure. That's why you nearly got hit by our car 'cause you wore a suit into the desert and didn't bring a drop of water. All while hauling that stupid, big-ass cross around! And then you insist on joining us — try to scam us! — but hey," you put your hands up, "none of my business."

"Wasn't tryna scam —"

"Hella shady, man... Hella. fuckin'. shady." You're shocked you can see the man's eyes roll in a begrudging defeat behind his black sunglasses — at night, no less — but you nudge him. "C'mon, just tell me! I bet it has to do with Hopeland, something… or someone back at that orphanage."

"Anyone told ya how irritatin' ya are?"

"Only the ones that are equally just as annoying!"

"Tch, woman." Seungcheol messes up the back of his black hair, mouth opening as he cracks his jaw. There's a pregnant pause. "… 'Han was… he was different. Ya wouldn't get it."

"Try me. Evidently you weren't listening very well, were you?" No surprise there. You retrieve the locket that takes refuge beneath your top, a familiar oval swinging from its long chain between the two of you. "Believe it or not, I do get it."

His eyes fixate on it like a pendulum, darting to your face, and then up to the sky. A crooked smile quirks up the corner of his mouth and he lets out a resigned sigh. "Ya really love 'im, don'tcha?"

You feel a funny sensation.

Akin to getting caught in a horde of flying worms and trying to squash down as many as you can. Your answer is hushed and Seungcheol snickers. Unbeknownst to the two of you that an additional pair of ears — assumed to be asleep — also catches your whispered reply.

"So, how much ya gonna pay for confessin'?" the pastor goads and lets out a startled yelp when you try to smash the hand-held bank he totes around that's shaped like a cathedral.

"Oh, go to hell, Choi!"

"Stare any longer and you'll no longer be needin' Sirocco." An amused snicker follows the relaxed drawl. "Bullets're 'bout to start flyin' outta those eyes 'stead of that gun o' yers."

You scowl at the dumb man seated next to you. "It's not like subtlety has ever been a strong suit of yours. But could you at least pay better attention to your surroundings?" A meager amount of golden liquid sloshes against the sides of the glass you pointedly wave around. "Or are you already too drunk to forget where we are?"

"Ain't no lightweight," Seungcheol brags with his fourth pint of the night in hand and a rapacious grin cockily tilting the empty lollipop stick in the corner of his mouth upward. "Can't say the same for the rest, though. Whiskey's stronger than a punch to the gut."

"… You would know. I'm sure it might just taste like water to some by now."

While it might initially elate most visitors to order as many rounds of the only available beverage on the menu as possible, the reality of the situation was much more grim. As if he can read your mind, the man clad in black, gray, and muted silvers flippantly reminds you of why your so-called merry band of travelers are even here.

"Needle Noggin said 'e fixed the Plant up just fine 'n dandy, so here's hopin' we get some clean bathwater t'night."

At those words, your gaze instinctively shoots back to where it focused earlier. Seungcheol snorts and drains his glass with a satisfactory sigh before poking more fun at you.

"Gonna put a hole through his head at this point."

"Not like that's anything new."

"Yeah, but rather than constantly laserin' holes through his skull, ya should be tryna convince him to fill yers up, instead. 'N not referrin' to that empty space behind yer forehead."

"I know exactly what you mean, you perverted freak."

That cracks Seungcheol up. "'N here I was thinkin' ya was gonna end up a nun servin' the Eye of Joshua!"

By now, you're well-accustomed to the hedonistic ways of the man who still keeps a leather band with a cross on it strapped across his Adam's apple, sewn into the cuffs of his black suit, and carries the hulking shape of one on his weary shoulders.

Unfazed, you fire back, "If they even let someone like you into the blessed and holy ranks, then any whore off the streets would be welcome to join."

It's a series of light-hearted jabs you both take in stride. The truth is much darker and deeper, but tonight serves as a tiny snapshot away from the normal weariness of day-to-day survival in Gunsmoke. Right now, you celebrate alongside the residents of Tonim what peace could really look like in the future.

Except you're on edge.

For a reason that's silly compared to the usual adrenaline rush of tracking down Plants nearing red status and defending the area, all the while trying to prevent the inevitable destruction and chaos to follow. Still, it's why you beckon the bartender over for another refill as a positively "tickled-pink" Seungcheol not-so-silently judges.

"Now who's staring?"

"'Kay, but's not with unbridled lust and — " He's cut off by a sharp kick to the side of his shin delivered by one of your heavy combat boots. "And feelin's," gets wheezed out before the pastor falls silent at your nasty scowl paired with Wonwoo's timely arrival.

The saloon owner and de facto authority in town approaches the two of you cautiously. It's no secret who you are, who you're with. What you do and the things that follow when you do what you do. And yet what you've done has saved the town and given its people — especially the younger folk — something that some of them have never experienced before.

Hope.

And that seems to be good enough proof for Wonwoo. Rumors may just be rumors, after all. None of you are like the reports relayed in a tinny voice through the virtually enhanced radios that are non-plant-powered — aka illustriously dubbed by their inventor as VERnons.

"… the Bloody Rain… follows… Lee… Humanoid Typhoon… armed… dangerous. Punisher… cross… machine gun… two unknown… likely… agents…. Bernardelli Insurance…"

The VERnon sitting behind the counter splutters out bits and pieces of information. He side-eyes the device awkwardly and starts fumbling with the buttons, trying to mumble over the static and monotonous voice.

"Can I pour you another drink?"

"Sure," you chuckle, pleased.

The bartender's well-intentioned efforts are fruitless which is to be expected. Only the creator, and those he personally taught, could truly modify the invention as pleased. A part of you hoped to find evidence Hansol had traveled this far but alas, he was probably still searching through the seven major cities for his beloved Milly before attempting to wander through the treacherous wastelands.

A brown, short-haired darling sneaks awe-filled glances at the two of you from the corner where a group of women around your age gather to chat. Seungcheol's the first to catch onto the admiring starry-eyed gaze and winks. Chuckling when a pudgy hand clings tighter to one of the lady's long skirt, using the fabric as a demure little shield against his effortless charisma.

You catch the tail-end of the interaction with the ghost of a smile. If there's one thing that can definitely soften Seungcheol's rough edges, it's children. You can't blame him, reminded of cheery voices and energetic footsteps pounding after your own through the convent's hallways.

The attractive woman wonders what's drawing the younger girl's attention and leans down to whisper in her ear. Gesturing in your direction, you watch as she nods encouragingly and offers a gentle smile, pushing the tiny brunette forward who readily toddles over. The gaps still waiting for pearly white teeth to grow in that shy smile on the little girl's face are endearingly winsome.

"'Lo, Wonu."

The bespectacled man starts, eyes wide as he peers over the counter and just manages to glimpse the top of her mousy brown tufts. "Is that you, Lina? You're not supposed to be here."

"Past yer bedtime, lil one?"

She huffs indignantly at the two men, hands on her hips. "I've once stayed up 'til four in the morning, mister!"

"Oh, Lina…"

"Besides, how can anyone of good standing sleep properly when there's heroes in town?"

"Huh, what a darlin' angel!"

You scoff at your comrade's words. "As if you've ever seen one."

"I do beg your pardon," Wonwoo scrambles to excuse the child's enthusiasm. "Looks like another talk is due with, uh, Sheryl."

"You're just jealous, Wonu. Sherry says they're heroes."

A chubby finger points at you and Seungcheol and the bartender clicks his tongue — partially in reproach and the other half out of embarrassment. The two of you hardly pay any attention to his reaction, seeming to not mind her boldness at all.

"That's right, sweet'art. And don'tchu forget now." In fact, a certain cross-wearing man revels in it. He rummages deep in his pocket and pulls out a lollipop with a flourish. "'N here's a lil magic gift for ya, princess."

You're one step faster, snatching it and unwrapping the candy with a quick inspection. At least it looks fresh and clean. Seungcheol snorts. Ignoring him, you crouch down and hand it to Lina with a gentle smile.

"Remember to be careful with what you take from strangers."

"I know! But you're heroes… and heroes are always good people! You would never hurt me!" Those blue-green eyes are certainly dazzling as she stares into yours, reminiscent of the clean water now filling the town's reservoir. "You're very pretty."

"That might be the highest compliment I've ever received."

"Pretty people don't hurt anyone either! Sherry's super pretty and she's the gentlest I know!"

A very pretty pastor himself snickers for multiple reasons. Meanwhile, Wonwoo laments with a tired sigh, "Dunno what that crazy woman's been teaching her, I swear…"

"You're not supposed to talk about people you like like that, Wonu!" Lina gives them both the stink eye but returns her attention to focus solely on you — Tonim's loveliest savior in her teal-eyed view. "Will I grow up to be as pretty as you?"

Ah, how your heart aches.

"Even prettier."

"I…" She gnaws on her lip, as if it does anything to hide how much her pleased grin glows. "I wanna be a hero, too!"

"Don't see why you wouldn't become one." To you, she already is — in all her innocent radiance and glory.

"Gotta grow big 'n strong first, missy."

"I am strong!"

"Don't doubt it. But wait 'til yer at least twice my age 'fore ya go swingin' at thugs."

She wrinkles her nose. "I'll be in the grave like Grammy if I wait that long, old man!"

Seungcheol guffaws at her unexpected remark and you hear the bartender beg, "Lina, please!" But you focus on all the brilliance in front of you — from precious unkempt locks to blue eyes full of fire and finally to the worn out, dust-covered shoes.

"Hopefully you'll never need a reason to be the hero, though. It's our duty to keep that from happening."

There's too much hidden meaning and brutal experience in your words for her to fully understand. The lull gives a certain pastor an opportunity to sidle back into the conversation, ready to get up to no good as always.

"Ya wanna meet the hero of all heroes, darlin'?"

"Choi —"

"Yeah!" Lina claps ecstatically.

"Go 'head 'n give 'er yer second key," he coaxes quietly with a shit-eating smirk.

"I swear!"

"C'mon… never like keepin' such a sweet gal waitin'!"

After a minute's hesitation, you begrudgingly agree and take it out.

"Thank ya. Now, got a lil mission for ya, Miss Hero-in-the-Makin'."

"Really?!"

Barely able to conceal her exuberance, she reverently takes the key like it's actual gold and not simply plated. Seungcheol ruffles her hair affectionately.

"Y'see the man in all purple?"

"Mhm, yeah! The one that looks like the night sky?"

"Yeah, give 'im it. Make sure to say it's from this pretty lady."

"Choi!"

"Talk to 'im too 'cause he'll love that. He's a real hero, y'know? Truest of 'em all."

"Yes, sir!"

"Attagirl."

Lina scurries off and you turn back to the counter with a sour glare directed at Seungcheol. "What was that all about?"

"Dunno, cute?"

"I'm really sorry about that all," Wonwoo apologetically interrupts with the offer of another refill which is readily accepted. "She… she's very excitable."

"No need for apologizin', man."

"Yeah, she's adorable. Is she yours?"

The bespectacled bartender stutters, almost dropping the glass he's handing to you. "That's, uh, that's my sister!"

"Ah, makes sense! Didn't mean to assume."

He flushes and turns away. But not without mumbling something about it being okay and your comrade groans.

"Reminder — ya get too drunk, 'm not dealin' with ya ass."

"Great, I don't want you near my ass."

"'S not what I meant!"

"Yeah, yeah."

Seungcheol downs another shot and you're quick to follow his lead once Wonwoo hands over another refill per your shared request. However, this time, the stoic man surprisingly lingers and awkwardly fiddles with his wire-rimmed frames, doing his very best to not let his eyes wander your scantily clad figure as your head tilts back to swallow the burning alcohol.

Meanwhile, the pastor's grin turns wolfish.

"So, uh, who are you, really?"

"Curious, eh?" You lean comfortably onto the counter, braced by your forearms and an alluring smile on your face for the handsome saloon owner. His gaze drifts down to your scar-covered hands which also happen to be placed conveniently underneath your breasts.

You'd once said the best disguise and toughest armor was none at all. And why not flaunt your assets — literally — and put them to good use. The desert is hot anyways!

Seungcheol and Seungkwan both called bullshit. Mingyu applauded you and waved his "I respect women's rights, wrongs, and all the above no matter what!" flag. Seokmin — already used to your behavior and attire — had nothing else to say other than his normal quips of, "As long as you're comfortable".

"Well, a-a beautiful woman like yourself has to have everyone wondering."

And you laughed in the face of your haters every time it worked.

"Just a bounty hunter."

Wonwoo nods at the casual answer, recalling the holster strapped around the plush of your thigh beneath short denim shorts. "Where from?"

"Well… around. My hometown was destroyed so…"

"Oh? Same here."

"Ah, camaraderie." You jab a thumb menacingly in the direction of the purple-cloaked figure and the life of tonight's celebration, currently animatedly chattering to Lina. "That's why I'm turning him in."

"He's…?"

"Yup, Lee Seokmin. Yes," you confirm with a smirk at the way Wonwoo's eyes bug out behind his glasses, "that one — the infamous humanoid typhoon. Don't worry, he won't hurt anything or anyone here."

"He's… uh, he's not quite what I expected."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"You must be pretty badass to reign him in. Heard he's giving what's left of the July regime officers a run for their double dollars."

"For sure. But it's thanks to the other two drunkards, really. Believe it or not, they're Bernardelli insurance agents. Raven-haired one's Seungkwan and the tall one is Mingyu. They're helping to monitor that whopping bounty of mine and prevent any more disasters from happening. Heard I might get a bump in value if I bring him in alive."

"Oh, well, it looks like it's working. And he seems… willing? To come with you?"

"The irony. Always been quite blasé about facing his doom."

"He's really a Plant engineer, too?"

"Of sorts," you huff at his visible confusion but wave your empty glass. "Can I get another?"

He's more than happy to accommodate and returns with two, sliding one over to Seungcheol with a cautious look at the person who seems the closest to you. "And this is…?"

"Pastor. Pleased to meet'cha."

"Oh! Really?"

"A surprising addition to the mix, yeah. But everyone needs to, like, pray sometimes." And under your breath, low enough so only a certain man can hear, "no matter how sketchy they are."

"Do you, hm, officiate weddings?"

The one in question quirks a thick eyebrow. "Ya lookin' to get hitched, boy?"

"M-maybe."

And Seungcheol feels wholly compelled to bless him silently from the bottom of his blackened heart with full sincerity, seeing as how the bespectacled man timidly peeks your way before his gaze darts elsewhere. "Sorry lad, charge 'bout a thousand double dollars minimum."

While the solitary bartender crashes back into the sad reality of capitalism, you jab your elbow into the pastor's ribcage. "Fuckin' scammer."

"Only the best of the best! Ya know, sixty billion's still on the table — 'n it better be callin' my name."

"No one even has sixty billion double dollars!"

"We have 'im." And he points back to where hoots and hollers erupt from the center table of the saloon.

Lina's returned to the woman she was with earlier — presumably her beloved Sherry — but that doesn't mean Seokmin's alone. There's so much disdain in your side-eye, spotting the busty violet-haired sweetheart his arm wraps around. After all, he's the worst kind of ladykiller.

And by that, you mean he absolutely sucks at flirting and can't get or keep a partner to save his life. Yet you're constantly stuck witnessing women, men, and attractive people of all kinds throw themselves at the good-looking man until he opens his mouth and they're put off by his clear lack of suaveness or strange little idiosyncrasies.

"Stop with the stupid bet, it's not happening. Nobody's going to be winning a thing."

"It's called usin' the damn 'magination, darlin'!"

"Which means you need to get better hobbies. You've corrupted my friends!"

"Hah! Them fools were already too invested in this 'fore I ever came along."

"Fill me up again?"

Intent on ignoring Seungcheol, you belatedly realize how aggressive your request comes across. You're also eager for something to help soothe ache in your chest. It comes and goes like a bad toothache — manageable enough to forget about the pain until it returns tenfold.

Thankfully, Wonwoo meekly complies with the back tips of his ears tinged red and Seungcheol barely manages to hide his extreme amount of mirth for the situation behind another glass. In the dim lighting, at certain angles, and with another shot of whiskey settling into your system, you conclude that the handsome saloon owner could certainly pass as Seokmin's brother and vice versa.

But you know the truth.

Familiar with the one who's all too identical to the infamous gunslinger, yet entirely different altogether. Irritation flares in your gut, prickling harsh enough that even the burn of alcohol fails to drown it out.

"I'm turning in for the night."

"Smartin' idea."

"Don't get too smashed."

"You should get smashed."

"Bye, Choi."

Tipsiness is a great excuse to bump purposely into him as you get off the stool. It's only thanks to his genetically enhanced metabolism that the pastor's able to stay upright. He grumbles something that's likely insulting, but standing upright causes you to realize you drank way too much. Everything spins or sways, including your body as you stumble up the stairs.

Somehow, you safely make it to the second level. Above the saloon is a hallway of small bedrooms that Wonwoo generously loans out to routine drunkards or stray travelers. It takes a few minutes of fumbling around but you finally find the lock that matches the first of its paired key and tumble face-first into (thankfully clean) bedsheets.

A hazy mix of drifting in and out of consciousness follows. It's not until the door clicks and there's an ominous creak of floorboards followed by a noticeable presence creeping up at your side that fully rouses you from the feverish dreams of gunfire, explosions, and loss that still plague your mind to this day.

You roll over, intending to assume both an offensive and defensive position against the nighttime visitor, but a hand lands on your shoulder before you can. Still sluggish, there's no way you could ever hope to outmatch the humanoid typhoon, even at your best.

"Hey, you."

It takes a bit for your eyes to adjust to the darkness after hearing his voice — and then there he is. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Seokmin greets you with a fond, megawatt grin. The thumb of his cybernetic prosthesis gently traces little circles over your bare skin. There's a faint hum and glow from its advanced tech mechanics, paired with moonbeams from the window, casting off an ethereal radiance.

"So, you're staying here tonight?"

"But of course, isn't that why you sent such a cute little cherub my way?"

Ah, Lina. You unwittingly smile, remembering how joyful she was to accomplish her mission.

Then your eyes close, nose wrinkling at the copious stench of mixed perfumes and alcohol he brought in and refusing to acknowledge what he says.

"You hella reek."

"Says the one who drank over seven shots."

"… That preacher's a fuckin' tattler. And a liar. And a total scammer. Don't fall for him, Seok."

"Now, what makes you think Seungcheol told me, hm?" He leans down almost nose-to-nose, enough to make yours scrunch even more at the buzzing feeling of how near he is. Your eyes open to squint at him and he winks. "Silly boy tried to mess with god again and max out his intake. Spoiler alert, he failed. Mingyu dragged him back to his room."

"You're the only one I know who can call Choi a 'silly boy'."

"'Cause that's what he is."

"And you need to stop acting like my babysitter!"

You shift away from his gorgeous face and he leans back to give you space, sporting a smug grin. "Then who would take care of you, mayfly?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?"

"Be nice to me and maybe I won't keep count on how many glasses you down next time," he teases. "But since I'm so kind and forgiving, would you like a nice, warm, relaxing bath?"

Well, it did sound wonderful. TMI, but cleanliness was a luxury when traveling the desert. Even more so when the places you arrived at had Plant issues. Luckily, Seokmin was more than capable of fixing them but even then, circumstances varied. Especially around the one known across Gunsmoke as mankind's first localized human disaster.

"Only if you get one, too."

It slips from your mouth without a thought. But you might as well have told Seokmin you'd gotten him a box full of doughnuts with how delightedly he clasps his hands together.

"As you wish, m'lady!"

And he treats you like one, scooping you up into his arms in a princess-style carry. At least tonight you're more willing to let him do as he wishes, especially when he discards the perfume-infused outerwear. Whiskey, sleepiness, and the smooth material of his undershirt keep you pliant and cuddly well after he'd snatched you off the bed.

Seokmin's already ten times stronger than even a human like Mingyu and his prosthesis only helps take further advantage of that fact. He easily deposits you on the edge of the tub. Normal routine would require untying the tight laces on your combat boots but since you'd kicked them off prior to resting, he skips to the next step.

Deft fingers make quick work unbuttoning your shorts, the prosthetic digits of his left hand then moving to loosen the straps that keep your top on. His other hand holds them together in a pseudo-knot to keep the material in place.

Honoring a sense of modesty, you suppose — even though you've seen each other unclothed before. But you melt into the secure press of his palm paired with the support of his chest against your back as he leans over to turn on the water.

"Let me know if it's a good temperature."

"M'kay."

"You're so agreeable when drunk!"

"And you're still just as annoying."

"Okay, okay," he relents. Amicably even.

Seokmin never enjoys butting heads like Seungcheol constantly does. Although another "mayfly," gets tacked on to the end of his playful yield in a mischievous tone because if there is one thing, it's that he can never tease you enough.

Brown eyes quietly trace the ink and scars that mark your skin, some disappearing or completely hidden beneath the parts that are covered. Finally, they land on the silver chain around your neck, only a breadth away from the tip of his fingers that suddenly twitch at how soft you feel beneath the calloused roughness of his own skin.

You let out a little sigh and it shakes him from his reverie, noticing the tub's filled up past your calves. Guiding one of your hands to where the locket lies beneath your clothes covering your chest, he stands. "Call me if you need anything or just want help getting out, m'lady."

"'Kay."

You're already stripping bare but Seokmin breezes out the door before you can blink. You sigh again and slip into the hot water, enjoying a soak to ease the heaviness you feel.

It's hard to understand this emotional turmoil. Knowing that you don't enjoy feeling this way, you make a false promise to not drink ever again, staying submerged in the water until your fingers wrinkle.

Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you didn't. There's a bathrobe laid on the sink when you're ready to get out that you don't remember from before but who knows. Who cares? It's cozy and you haven't felt this clean in a while.

"All yours," you lazily declare, stepping into the bedroom.

Seokmin perks up from where he casually sits cross-legged on the bed, fiddling with Geranium. A dopey smile lights up his face, gaze moving from the hefty nickel revolver and zoning in on you.

"All mine?"

"Yeah."

"Yeah," he repeats quieter, more to himself, "all mine…" But when you unconsciously shiver, his eyes flash and brows furrow. "C'mere, I warmed the bed up for you."

"Aren't you going to bathe?"

"Yep, so don't miss me too much, my dear mayfly!"

He accompanies it with a saucy wink and saunters into the bathroom, humming. You find yourself in a bit of a daze, head and cheeks holding onto the heat of the steam from your bath (and more). You change into a light tank and cotton shorts before sitting back down. As promised, where Seokmin rested was indeed warm and smells of faint gun smoke that always brings back memories.

"Total slaughter…!"

Splash!

"… Total slaughter…"

Splash!

"I won't leave… a single man alive."

Splash! Splash!

"La de da de dai~," echoes from the bathroom. "Genocide…"

Splash.

"La de da de duh," splash, splash, splash, "an ocean… of blood."

"Let's begin… the killing time."

Seokmin possessed a lovely melodic voice no matter how nonsensical or gruesome the words he sang. Your eyes close with relaxation as he continues into a different tune. Though the lyrics are definitely more hopeful this time, there's a heavy sense of underlying desolation despite the rapid, upbeat tone.

"So…" splash, "on the first evening," splash, "a pebble from somewhere out of nowhere drops upon the dreaming world…"

You think back to how he silently cried when he thought no one was looking after a young stowaway on the sandsteamer broke into the same nostalgic song. Your heart aches in empathy for the woman whose heroic sacrifice saved humankind but left behind irreparable damage to twins she adored.

Rem Saverem.

She was to Seokmin as what Saint Meryl was to you. But your fondness for the nun who dared to favor one random orphan above the other equally ordinary ones with an unprecedented amount of kindness paled in comparison to the devotion Seokmin exhibited for Rem. Her kindness, hope, and love for and of life didn't simply become Seokmin's philosophies — they were a true part of every fiber, woven into his very being.

He was peculiar. Hardheaded — or in Seungkwan's affectionate term: a hardass — when it came to nonviolence. A true pacifist. Even when enemies held him at gunpoint, allies turned their backs on him, and his choice to always save was at the very cost of his well being… Seokmin would choose to tear himself apart limb by limb before ever causing damage or letting harm come to another.

And even if he always chose the world and those living in it first before anything else, that's what you loved the most about him.

"What's got you making that face?"

You're quick to school whatever expression it might be. Your tongue feels fuzzy. You purse your lips as he lumbers closer, freshly dressed in a comfy white long-sleeved shirt and black sweats.

"What face?"

"You know, the one where something's weighing on your mind."

The bed frame dips and squeaks when he flops down to snuggle against you. Still-damp, reddish-brown bangs lay across your shoulder and dampen your skin. The chilled press of the gold hoop in his left earlobe raises bumps wherever it touches as he endearingly nuzzles you.

"There is."

"Tell me."

"You need to dry your hair properly."

"Do it for me."

"… This is on purpose, isn't it?"

Nevertheless, you take the unused towel around his neck and vigorously rub at his head. No complaints or protests defending his honor come from Seokmin. Just the usual little trills of contentment escape as he leans into your touch. Once you're satisfied the job's done well, he plucks the towel from your hands and you fix him with a stern look.

"Well, Seok? You gonna answer me?"

He curls in on his lanky frame, enough so to find room to plop his head pitifully onto your thighs and nuzzle the bare skin with his nose. "Not if you won't answer me first."

"You."

"Hm?"

"Was… thinking about you."

"Oh, really? Dreaming about how cool, dashing, handsome, and awesome I am?"

"… Yeah. I like you."

He chuckles, closing his eyes. More so at the feeling of your fingers idly playing with his strands of hair than seriously taking what you say. "I like you, too!"

"No, I mean," you jostle him harshly as you shift anxiously, tugging a little too hard at his roots. "Something's wrong with me."

"… Mhm yeah, you've been drinking."

"Goddamnit, Seok… that was like hours ago! But… what if… what if I'm in love with you?"

Your fingers retract like you've been caught red-handed stealing Mingyu's pudding and a millisecond later, Seokmin's head flies off your lap as he sits up to stare incredulously at you and can only gasp out one word, "What?"

It comes out more like a statement than a question. You've seen all kinds of emotions appear in those clear brown eyes of his. Emptiness. Excitement. Happiness. Fear. Loneliness. Mysteriousness. Pain. But now, you can hardly make sense of what turmoil is swimming in those murky depths.

"There's no way," he shakes his head — laughter high and brittle. "Fake", is what Seungcheol occasionally points out whenever he spies the gunslinger's smile. You've never believed him until now. "You're drunk."

Seokmin's been hurt before and you know that. It's why you wish for him to be nothing but happy, that there's some truth to the joy he constantly tries to radiate. Hoping some parts are really healing, that he's giving time to let the bloody wounds coagulate — if even just a little.

"It's me. I mean, I'm the one that's drunk," he reiterates, shaking his head.

"Why are you acting like that?"

"… Like what?"

Perhaps you were too hopeful.

"Like I'm making some sort of mistake. Like I'm wrong about this. About us."

And still under the influence of the too-damn-strong alcohol.

"It's… none of that, it's just…"

"You think I don't know what I'm talking about."

"Well, do you?" he fires back rather harshly, "'cause you're still wearing that thing and —"

You wince as his voice breaks off, palm instinctively flying to where the locket rests. "What the hell does that have to do with anything right now? I thought we were over this! Years ago!"

"Maybe you were since you continue to stubbornly follow me everywhere!"

"I'm not the only one!"

"Yeah, 'cause no one ever listens to me!"

"I always listen to you, Seok. Even if the words that come out of your mouth don't match how you actually feel —"

"You don't know how I feel!"

Silence.

Seokmin's chest heaves, wide eyes taking in how you immediately freeze. That look, oh, that look on your face could kill him and his body moves on auto-pilot to stand, directing his gaze to stare daggers into the floorboards. Begging them to rip off like a bandaid and shield him from your wrath.

The wood beneath his feet groans, shaking ever the slightest.

"You're right. How dare I?"

"Wait, mayfly… I —" he switches gears with a plea of your given name.

"And obviously, you have no fuckin' idea how I feel." Now it's your turn to let out a disingenuous chuckle, fake humor cracking under the pressure of sadness it's struggling to mask. "You think all I'm after is revenge more than the actual thought even crosses my mind. You put on this show that nothing bothers you, make assumptions that no one can keep up with you, that you can do it all on your own."

"No, that's not… that's not what I meant! You know how dangerous —"

You stumble ungracefully off the bed, flinching away when Seokmin's words break off as he automatically reaches out. For you. To support and for support.

Yet, it hurts all the more.

"But what do I even know? How can I, when you keep everyone at arm's length? It's like… it's like I don't even know who you are! Like you're someone else, someone I'll never get to understand…"

To others, it might not make sense, possibly the dumbest thing you could say — especially with the state you're in. But you know Seokmin, a fact he's subconsciously taken comfort in.

But you also know Seokmin. Which means you know the exact place to hit him where it hurts the most.

And suddenly, those words you say propel him back into a moment from the past, body free-falling in the sky.

Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Pleading.

Begging that exact phrase and being demanded of the same accusation. All from the one who's falling with him. Whose face mirrors his own, but couldn't be more different in that crucial and devastating moment.

His brother. His twin. His other half who was once his everything — now a total stranger from the person he thought he knew.

A fifty-year-old reunion that should've been a reconciliation, turned into a doomsday.

And for you, the once simple toothache pain is now overwhelming your full body and you refuse to let him see how it's dampened your cheeks. Especially when you hear the pained whisper of the name that escapes his mouth when you're the one that triggered those awful memories. Staggering to the door, you yank it open and he instinctually takes a step forward.

Don't leave me.

You hear the unspoken plea as clearly as if spoken aloud.

"Don't follow me," is what you hiss out instead, and just like when you first met, Seokmin obeys.

When Seungkwan makes room arrangements — if there is enough money to spare when needed and the options are available — he books everyone their own private space. More often than not though, he and Mingyu share a room and so do you and Seokmin.

Out of everyone in the group, you're the only one who is used to putting up with Seokmin's idiosyncrasies and the constant white noise of the cybernetic prosthetics's technology. You've rarely paid mind to having your own space unless Seokmin gets in one of those rare 150-year-old moods and wants some time by himself. Rare in nature, because he doesn't enjoy being left alone with his thoughts that threaten to consume him.

But he'll have to make due tonight. For the first time, you're extremely grateful for Seungkwan's pro-activeness.

You lock the door, crawl into a fresh cold bed, and wet a new pillow — one that lacks the comforting scent of gun smoke — with unshed tears.

For all his short-tempered and sassy mannerisms, Seungkwan is quite the worrywart. When the suns have peeked past the horizon and you're not already downstairs bullying Seungcheol, he's immediately knocking at your door and inquiring about your well-being. You assure him you're just hungover and he reluctantly leaves you be, likely picking up on how terrible you really do sound.

By high noon, Mingyu raps on the door next. He even sweetly offers to share his prized pudding in the hopes that you'll peek your head out. Though you appreciate it, you send him away, too — after reassuring the sensitive man you'll feel better after some rest.

Seungcheol doesn't miss the chance to be annoying times ten. He doesn't indulge in the effort of knocking, opting to make the floorboards squeal by pacing back and forth in front of the door. All the while, muttering this and that about "yer boy's like a pathetic dog and blah, blah, blah" until getting very kindly told to "fuck off!" and dragged back downstairs by a certain raven-haired insurance agent.

Even Seokmin checks in. Four times.

Once and then twice after you'd left and he'd figured out which room was yours. Then two more visits throughout the following day. He doesn't exactly make his presence known — but you know he knows you know he's out there.

If not by the distinct gait you've picked up on listening for after all this time, then by the hesitant thuds of combat boots lingering outside your door. Lost technology whirring with the action it takes to make a fist with his left hand, raising it up to the door and then back down again in self-inflicted defeat.

You refuse to see anyone, choosing to pity yourself first. Wallowing in your feelings and then sleeping as much of the heartache — and more so the hangover — away.

When the moons are visible in accordance to their nightly orbit, you get up to fuss with the mini VERnon in the room's corner. Nothing but static greets you. At the very least, the white noise is better than complete silence. By the time it's morning, you slowly awaken to the virtually enhanced radio trying to catch onto a faint signal. Enough to report the latest news in snippets with its mechanical voice.

"Beast… reported… Tonim town… !"

Your eyes fly open. Now is not the time to be wasting away. Donning a clean set of attire similar to what you wore into town — and with Sirocco strapped comfortingly to your thigh — you descend downstairs.

"Good morning!" Mingyu cheerfully greets with a delighted shout of your name and eagerly waves you over to sit next to him, waving around a promised cup of pudding. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, thanks. Sorry about that, whiskey here sure is strong."

"'S one helluva killer," Seungcheol sulks across from you, still sporting a massive headache and looking worse than that one time Seungkwan hit him with the car.

"You're just weak."

"Wha'zat say 'bout you?"

"Since I can equally acknowledge both my strengths and weaknesses, that makes me infinitely stronger than you'll ever be."

Seungkwan wordlessly hands you a bowl and you graciously accept it. Next to the pastor sits Seokmin, unnaturally quiet. You don't even spare him a glance even though brown eyes burn into the side of your face until you glare his way.

The stack of doughnuts on the plate in front of him remain untouched — minus the smudged icing on one that was likely from Seungcheol trying to swipe it. Evidently, Seokmin was in low spirits if he didn't want to consume his favorite desserts. But, he is still prideful enough to prevent anyone else from snatching the prized delicacy.

How typical.

An awkwardness ensues, charged with an underlying current of tension. A vein forms in Seungkwan's forehead from his blood pressure rising.

Its pulse matches the twitch in the corner of his fake smile as he attempts to make conversation, to which Mingyu — oblivious and happy-go-lucky as ever, bless his heart — replies enthusiastically. Seungcheol stares listlessly into space, twirling a lollipop around and around with his tongue. Next to him is a soul acting like a thunderstorm's personally pouring over him. Seokmin starts pitifully poking at his grand doughnut pile while you ferociously tear into a piece of bread like it's the last supper before swallowing.

"Soonyoung's coming."

Your unexpected, but welcomed, interruption ironically pauses Seungkwan's second diatribe about Hansol's calamitous ingenuity. If possible, the apprehension in the room intensifies tenfold.

Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. "How'd you hear?"

"Tuned the VERnon last night."

"'Course you did."

"Something about the Beast and Tonim came through. Not for sure but…"

"It never hurts to be too prepared!"

"True, 'Gyu. 'N if Soonyoungie's gonna be there, ya know what that likely means…"

You nod in understanding at Seungcheol's implication. "The Crimsonnail."

Seokmin's jaw clenches at the name but it's the disgruntled pastor who continues speaking after a hearty and loud gulp of water. "'Course the Eye of Joshua's gonna send their best two. Soonyoungie's Hoon's eyes 'n ears for these kinda things."

"Or… it could be Jeonghan."

Your noncommittal remark receives Seungcheol's scathing glower. "Bet."

"It wouldn't be the first time," you shrug.

"There haven't been any notable disturbances and the ground's been stable. So hopefully their only goal is to simply antagonize us further."

Antagonize.

A funny word for such a twisted coin game between a hunter and the hunted. You can't and don't blame the younger Bernardelli agent — only you were privy to most of the true horrors Seokmin dealt with behind the scenes, Seungcheol a close second. And because of that, you were usually the one at his side before an encounter with Jihoon and the ever lingering threat and terror of said man's monstrous power.

But today, you get up from the table without so much as a glance in his direction. Only a parting command of "Let's regroup near the entrance at high noon," while Seungkwan and Mingyu exchange looks of minor distress.

The black-haired man in his hangover blues obnoxiously blows a raspberry as you leave.

Later, there are two solid knocks on the door as you get ready. You know who it is before the door swings open after your agreeable hum to enter. Many may be intimidated at the sight of the silver weapon in your gloved hands. Seungkwan and Mingyu make up half of the quartet who aren't.

They take a seat on the bed as you purse your lips at the reflection in the dusty mirror. Then you fuss with the strap for your gun. Satisfyingly re-securing it around your thigh before throwing a carmine trench coat over tight kevlar that covers almost every inch of skin possible.

"Surprised you didn't dye everything else black during a fit of rage."

Your lips curl upwards. "How on Gunsmoke would I manage that?"

"With the way you're acting, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…' or so the saying goes."

"Really, 'Kwan?"

"I'm an avid supporter of women's rights and especially their wrongs."

"Sure you are."

"You would absolutely look dashing!"

"Thanks, Mingyu. Should've given my color scheme a little more consideration."

"But then you wouldn't have achieved such an infamous moniker. I mean, okay. Maybe the black plague killed tons of Earthlings eons ago but it doesn't have the same ring as 'Sirocco, the bloody rain that follows after the humanoid typhoon'…"

Seungkwan allegedly graduated at the top of his class, leave it to him to spew out all kinds of random facts that you know nothing about. You huff and adjust the brim of the large hat atop your head.

"All that does is make me cringe."

"Uh-huh, so what's making him act like that?"

"Who's acting like what?"

"Fine, keep playing dumb. Did you reject Seokmin or something?"

Mingyu gasps. Dramatically. Hands on cheeks and mouth open in a wide 'o' shape, puppy-dog eyes glistening with despair.

"There's no way!"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Uh-huh."

"Besides, nothing happened so don't think you're gonna wheedle out of me whether you're going to win that stupid bet you two have going with Choi."

"Eh, don't worry. I've been out of the running for a while now, unfortunately."

"The hell did you even throw for?"

He shoots you a deadpan look. "Guess who's aged eighty years watching the two of you dance around each other like dumbasses? Could've sworn you'd be married with a toma farm or a dozen little children by now."

"It's your own damn fault for falling victim to that pastor's salacious schemes. And it's not even remotely like that, so…"

"Someone just doesn't wanna give in."

You stomp your foot, frustration boiling over. "Ugh, I'm never drinking again!"

"Wait… No fucking way…!"

"Literally shut up, Boo."

"I mean Choi did bet you'd confess and you know… get intimate afterwards… if you were drunk so…"

"Oh, so that's why he was so damn pushy last night."

"Dirty cheater."

"You expect anything less from someone like him?"

A sigh. "No."

It's a well-known fact that Seungcheol would rather stoke the flames of hell than ever needlessly dabble with holy water as one might be expected to with his chosen career.

"But judging by both of your moods, evidently nothing happened." The raven-haired man really has the gall to look disappointed that no one won yet pleased Seungcheol didn't, and the gall to point out the obvious. "Anyways, what did you bet on, Mingyu?"

"Don't recall!"

"Figures." Seungkwan's face falls flat against his palm with a groan before dragging it wearily down his face. "Whatever, it's not like it's that serious. Seriously," he adds on, feeling the burn of your perpetual glower. "Don't let it weigh on your mind. We need you fully focused."

"And when have I ever been less than what's expected of me?" You hold up a hand. "Wait! Don't answer. But really, worry more about that idiot."

"Aw, see? You still care!"

"… About that sixty billion bounty, Mingyu? Yeah."

"Sure you do."

"And truthfully, I was talking about Choi, 'Kwan."

"Well, both of them always get into those zany headspaces!"

You shrug at the tall man's truthfulness. "They're both holding a lot of trauma and baggage."

"And you aren't?" Seungkwan snorts with sarcasm dripping from the dig.

"At least mine's manageable. And… hasn't threatened your lives yet."

"As far as we know."

"In fact, I think I've saved your 'so-very-untraumatized' lives more often than not. Stay with me and you'll both be okay."

They good-naturedly give you individual looks of disdain. Perfectly in sync when you accompany that last statement with a devilish smirk and a twirl that flares out your tail coat with a flourish. By no means are they incapable. Clumsy Mingyu can adeptly wield his massive concussion gun when it counts, of course, and Seungkwan stealthily hides several derringer 'throwaway' pistols under his white cloak that he can fire with deadly precision.

Nonetheless, they loyally flank to your side when Tonim's bell tower signifies the hour of high noon has struck. Seungcheol meets the three of you outside the door of the saloon, smoking a cigarette and one arm lazily draped over the Punisher — a terrifying machine gun mockingly designed in the burdening shape of a merciful cross.

You spot Seokmin up ahead. He's standing on the low border wall near the town's entrance, perched next to a pillar for back support with the heel of his boot propped up behind him. Decked out in the usual galaxy ensemble, purple fabric cut off at shoulder-length of the top left sleeve to allow free range of movement for his prosthesis. His hair's slightly gelled up for a more intimidating and dramatic flair and it almost makes you giggle.

But there's that stern gaze focused on the horizon, likely able to see far out into the distance through those amber lenses the human eye can't quite decipher. Despite such a hardened resolve, his head tilts slightly up toward the blue sky with a faint smile on his lips — an honoring appreciation for the beauty and wonder of life despite its inevitable horrors.

Seungcheol clicks his tongue to get your attention while Seungkwan and Mingyu keep walking ahead. "Spiky Hair thinks he's really gonna do it?"

"Won't stop until he's tried every last resort."

"Even if it kills 'im?"

"Even if it kills him."

"This damned situation 'cause of ya know who."

"Dokyeom. DK."

"Nah, nah. There's the asinine version, eh?"

"Absolute pain in my ass?"

He slaps his knee. "Ah, aye… good one! But nah, 's really stupid one, Deathly, uh, er…?"

"… Deadly Knives?"

"Pfft, yeah, 's that one. So, we gotta try 'n stop one genocidal brother from sweepin' out the whole human race 'n tryna convince greedy humans not to keep exploitin' 'em with the other. Back 'n forth again 'n again. I swear…'s only ever gonna be impossible."

"What makes you think it can't happen?"

He looks at you like you're stupid. Maybe you are. But what does that make him? "Both sides — humans versus DK — think they're right 'n too proud to think otherwise."

"So you don't think they'll settle for a compromise. Or at least try to see the other's viewpoint?"

"Hell naw. Ain't no compromisin' when both think they're justified in what they're doin'."

"Well, regardless — you joined a good cause, Choi. World could use a little more peace and love, don't you think?"

He grunts. "Lookit who's corrupted yer ideologies. Don'tcha know what destroyed Earth?"

"And do you know what saved humans? Kindness. Hope. Empathy. Compassion. Change. Making and being the difference. The good kind."

A long time ago, maybe in a different twist of fate, you might've staunchly agreed with Seungcheol. But despite it all, you've been somewhat changed — or like the pastor said, call it a corruption of sorts — by Seokmin's unwavering sense of positivity and kindness no matter how bleak the future.

You admired him. Truly.

"Un-fuckin'-'lievable."

Seungcheol shakes his head as if he's not gearing up, ready and raring to go as he stomps forward to join a fellow 'brother-in-arms'. The thought inwardly makes you smile with affection until you remember you're actually, in fact, mad at Seokmin.

A dust cloud stirs up on the horizon, steadily growing closer to where you stand.

"You're so full of goddamn self-flagellation."

The individual where all your ire is centered on jolts, doing a double-take at your sudden but familiar presence by his side approaching. Or maybe it was the mere fact you were talking to him again. A warm expression overtakes his facial features at the sense of calm that automatically relaxes the tension in his muscles as he looks down at you.

"Well then, hello to you too. Feeling better, mayfly?"

"… Remind me to never drink again."

"I told you —"

"Yeah, yeah." You wave away his nagging and step up on the wall to stand next to him. "Don't worry, I won't be making a mistake like that again."

"… Mistake?"

There's an edge to his tone. Searching. Sometimes you hate how perceptive Seokmin can be. Though he actively acts oblivious and carefree, it's usually a ploy to lower other's guard.

You wonder how long he's known.

So, you sigh. "I'm talking about drinking, of course. And… I wish I could say I forgot even if… I haven't. But it's fine, I know where I stand."

The latter part of your sentence trails off. It's true though. You do know — thankful you can even be next to Seokmin. You might not be with him but at the very least, your place will always be somewhere by his side. Affectionate flings may be sought elsewhere. But they're always temporary. In your heart of hearts, you know you're irreplaceable to him.

And that's going to have to be good enough for you.

The man in question scratches the back of his head. "It's not… it's not like that. I know I fucked up."

"Stop." You grip at his prosthetic, knowing despite how sensitive the sensors are, they won't be able to pick up how you slightly tremble. "It's okay. Really."

Who is it you're trying to reassure?

"Mayfly," Seokmin murmurs. "Look at me."

With the slightest hesitation, your gaze finally rises from its focal point centered on his boots and the stones beneath to meet dark brown eyes. The ache in the gunslinger's chest eases just a little. It's been far too long — a day, in actuality — since he's got to lose himself among the vibrant hues of your irises and he squeezes your free hand in gratitude.

"It's not okay, I want to talk to you. Sober. But…"

"I get it. Now's not the time for a heart-to-heart, especially not in front of your brother's henchmen."

You laugh, for real this time. The sight is breathtaking; it makes Seokmin's eyes crinkle, a fond smile to accompany his affection as he leans in closer to you to whisper a sweet, "Thank you."

Three sets of eyes try to make it very not obvious that they're very obviously totally not watching the overdue interaction with bated breath.

"Oh golly good, they've made up!"

"'Course they would."

"It's about time, I couldn't take the tension anymore."

"Don'tcha think it'll get worse once they start canoodlin'?"

"Good lord," Seungkwan groans, "perish the thought."

"What's wrong with a little love? Yay for love!"

"Well, I don't think they've made it that far yet. But we're getting there. Baby steps."

It would be a good cause for celebration, a resumption of last night's festivities. Unfortunately, the merry moment is cut short with a screech of brakes, signaling the arrival of Jihoon, DK's most elite performer in his unmerry band of henchmen.

Next to the feared Crimsonnail's suitcase sits Soonyoung the Beast. Silver strands peek out behind the unsettling, bug-like circular mask hiding his face. He casually waves, acting like the unnerving discovery behind the innocent, abandoned child — who went by Hoshi — was simply a facade initially put on around your group and not such a grand revelation.

Having sorted that out in the stomach of a giant flying worm serving as a hive mind for Gunsmoke's legion of its original inhabitants and swearing not to let your guard down again, all five of you remain on high alert.

Jihoon's steel-colored eyes flicker to Seungcheol. "Hello there, Undertaker. Or… should I say Judas?"

"Howdy dandy to ya too, ya son of a bitch," the pastor snarls, spitting his cigarette in their direction. Cursing under his breath when the distance and uselessness of the fizzling stub doesn't blow up the engine like he wishes it would.

"Now, now. You don't want to make me mad, do you?"

"Kinda wanna piss ya off as much as ya piss me off, yeah."

"Surely you know what —"

"He means nothing by it." You'd quickly abandoned your post next to Seokmin to place a hand on Seungcheol's taut shoulder. Boldly facing the blonde man's haughty expression with one that's hopefully placating enough on behalf of your comrade. "He's just grumpy because he's still hungover."

"Well, well… if it isn't the humanoid typhoon's little blood shower."

Ugh, you inwardly grimace, why the fuck does everyone have such unflattering nicknames for me?

"Still following him around, I see."

"'S a lot comin' from —"

" — Hasn't gotten rid of me yet!"

"… Seems it," Jihoon sniffs and cocks his head. "Similar to the dilemma I have with this persistent bug."

Soonyoung chortles, neck contorting at an unnatural angle to peer at the driver. "You love me."

"You're delusional."

"Why are you here?"

Seokmin's question comes sharp and pointed like a dagger, a far cry from his usual demeanor. His tone remains detached. Aloof. Vaguely accusatory. Unlike your harried action to cover for Seungcheol, you don't dare divert attention away from the gunslinger who stalks forward after elegantly hopping down from his perch. Despite an outwardly calm demeanor, there's an underlying urgency in his gait that's threatening to snap.

"For amusement. A show, if you will."

"One that's not even orchestrated by Joshua's freakish cult powers!"

Out of all the males surrounding you, you're not sure exactly who growls at the Beast's mere mention of the devil-like figurehead — in fact, it could've been all of them — but there's one noise that rings out above the din of it all.

Click!

You don't need super-hearing to pick up that telltale sound. Not when every person over the age of eighteen in Tonim has a cocked gun trained on each member of your ragtag gang.

"Uh, so… how many times is this?"

"One too fuckin' many," you answer Seungkwan with a petulant hiss and reluctantly mimic him by putting your hands up in the air.

Jihoon cackles. "And when will you fools ever learn?"

"'S my question, actually," the pastor nonchalantly calls over his shoulder, directed at the town's ringleader. "Didn't know ya had it in ya, boy."

You didn't think Wonwoo had it in him either, to be honest. But that's not something you were going to mention aloud with the shaky hold the bespectacled man has on the firearm waveringly aimed at his target — the one whose head is worth a 60 billion double dollars bounty, dead or alive.

"Felnarl. Jeneora Rock. Descartes. Dankin."

There's a faint twitch in one of Seokmin's eyebrows. Seungcheol rolls his eyes, sarcastically muttering under his breath an addition of location names, "Voldoor, Inepril, December, Lewiston…" and Mingyu joins in on the fun with a cheerful, "New Miami!"

Seungkwan watches warily and your jaw clenches. You can feel your teeth grind together in annoyance as Wonwoo's smarmy sneer grows smugger.

"And now, Tonim Town. What?" he jeers, seizing the chance to use the man's silence as a way to ridicule him. "Don't recognize what you've laid waste to? Must I bring up the big ones to jog your memory a little, like the city of July and Augusta or the hole in the fifth moon?"

"Why you —"

Enragement propels you a step forward, but the barrel swinging your way halts your next move mid-step. The sullen look on Wonwoo's face surprisingly holds no malice. He looks saddened, if anything, but you can't bring yourself to feel too much sympathy with the rifle he's now pointed toward you.

"You forgot one."

"Pardon?"

Seokmin's voice is hardly more than a whisper yet it rings out loud and clear amid the tense silence and stillness. "I said, you forgot one. There's not a name of any place or person I'd ever forget. I'm well aware of the ones you're talking about… and more. However, there's somewhere I won't ever forget that no one will ever know existed."

"… Huh?"

"Little Ivywood."

Wonwoo seems so taken aback and the pause unwittingly allows your eyes to drift over to meet Seokmin's brown ones. There are so many emotions conveyed in the sidelong glance — a mixture of regret-filled feelings yet ever so soft — and it lasts a second too long to snap the befuddled aggressor out of his reverie.

"Oh… I see." He pushes up his glasses, the lenses glinting in the pale sunlight like a typical anime villain. The long gun lowers to the ground the same time as he throws back his head to let out a bitter laugh. "So that's how it is! All you do is take and take and take, Lee. Destroy, destroy, destroy; again and again and again!"

"Aye, ole chap's gone off his rocker."

"You've made an ally out of a would-be, should-be enemy and think other victims with their pain and grief don't exist?!"

"Wow," Seungkwan wrinkles his nose in disgust, "yeah… he's gone completely insane."

Mingyu hums in agreement. "A little unhinged! Off the rocks! Unstable even! When can I knock him out?"

You'd love to give the gentle giant the go-ahead. Really. But even so…

"Damn you —"

"Stop it."

The townspeople's uncertainty and hesitance tells you all you need to know, especially when Wonwoo's hysteria leaves them even more perplexed. After years of handling a gun like a second arm, you can spot inexperience and fear of handling a dangerous weapon the second someone is near one. You lower your arms and step forward once more, confidence growing when he makes no move to threaten you further.

"You don't want this."

The corner of his mouth quirks upward, a rueful smile. "You know, I thought we really did share some camaraderie."

"We do."

"Yet you gallivant around with a monster like that?"

"He's not a monster."

"I should've known better, really, when the VERnons said you're the sirocco that follows after the humanoid typhoon. Heroes, my ass! I don't get it, how could you do that to others after what happened to you?"

To us?

It remains unspoken yet you can hear the intent of the accusingly barbed question. Two survivors of a wrecked hometown. Shared camaraderie hadn't been a lie. Even now as you meet the flickering fire in Wonwoo's eyes with a blazing flame in your own, all you can see is a reflection of your past and what you could've turned into in a possible future.

A cold gleam returns to his gaze as he takes your silence as defiance. Or maybe even shamelessness. "How could you turn a blind eye to such a bloody warpath of destruction when you know too well of the tragedy that's left behind?!"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"… Excuse me?"

"That's what all of you are doing right now," you declare loudly and some of Tonim's residents whose conscience stings have the decency to avert their eyes. Awareness of their actions seem to weigh down on them, guns lowering ever the slightest and the awkwardness encourages Seungkwan to speak up.

"We would've left peacefully tomorrow."

"But yer actions're gonna be the very cause of the destruction yer tryin' so damn hard to prevent."

"Because you took a bribe!"

There's a stilted, horrified, and collective gasp, so you try to remedy Mingyu's exclamation.

"It's because you let your malice sway you. Tell me, Jeon. What all did you lose?"

"My whole town. Then my parents. Almost my life and nearly Lina's too. My lover…"

"And your sense of self. Plus, the new life you've created here — and those things? Almost lost because of your own accord. Why would you destroy the few good things you're granted?"

Wonwoo's eyebrows scrunch as his face tenses. Your heart goes out to him despite everything, hoping to get your point across as you continue speaking.

"That doesn't negate the losses. The grief. The pain. It never goes away but… you can choose to clean out the wound, put some salve on it, and bandage it or let it fester and infect your body 'til it rots even your soul."

You can hear the shift in the sand as Seokmin approaches to stand next to you. He regards Wonwoo with a kind smile and the understanding, crescent-shaped squint of his eyes is like a punch to the other man's gut.

"…. I —"

" — It's your choice, Jeon. What did they offer you? Money? There are so many bets on July's militia lying about the payout. I mean, c'mon, there's no way a ruined city would have the funds."

"Yer Plant's no longer in red status, so ya won't need to barter no more."

"I'll throw in a better deal — let us go and I'll have Choi marry you and Sherry, free of charge."

His cheeks flush and you inwardly gloat, instincts right on the money. Seungcheol's jaw drops, absolutely flabbergasted, and the townsfolk exchange a few knowing snickers.

"If it's protection you need, we can figure that out too," Seokmin recovers and offers in a low voice. "And if Do — er, Knives — or his gang approached you with a deal, just know that they never hold up their end of the bargain."

"You're lucky you threatened us first. DK's side is a little too slash-happy and trigger-loving to resort to verbal methods. They're the ones you'd want to go after anyways, you see, this man and Knives are twins if you don't look close enough, they're eerily similar at the strangest moments. So the real story is that it's all just spiraled out of control."

"You mean…"

"I won't deny responsibility." Seokmin admits sternly. "It's true that I've wreaked devastation to many towns. Failed to save the people I swore to protect."

"But DK keeps forcing his hand to get Seok to join his genocidal cause. And every time he refuses to do so, his brother throws a tantrum and well, knives go flying everywhere. Literally."

"He's a little…" The gunslinger searches for the right word — and finding that there is none — cringes. "Dramatic."

You stare at him, aghast. "He cut your arm off!"

Wonwoo pales, swallows, and then grimaces, daring to ask, "So… I've had it wrong the whole time?"

"I guess not entirely." You shrug, also guilty as charged years ago. "And obviously not the first."

"And certainly not the last," Seungkwan pipes up.

The bespectacled man looks down at the ground. "I don't… I don't know… Do I even deserve this kind of treatment? This… mercy?"

"No."

With such a blunt answer, Seokmin's quick to protest with an admonishment of your name while Seungkwan and Mingyu suppress smiles at your straightforwardness. Seungcheol freely chuckles, lighting a cigarette.

And Wonwoo's face falls as remorse hits all over again.

"But," you smirk, "what have I told you?"

"Oh, ah… why destroy the few good things life grants me?"

"Good. You were listening. We might get along just fine, after all." You send him a teasing wink. "Camaraderie and all that be damned."

A sheepish look overtakes the man's previously hardened features. And suddenly he's laughing with his head thrown back like earlier, but this time it's with an unrestrained amount of joy. Relief. Hope.

"The ticket to the future is always blank, Wonwoo." Seokmin extends a hand and the other man takes it, the small grin on his face turning into a full-blown smile.

"Guns down, Tonim town. The rest of you, come on out! Let's celebrate!" He calls out to everyone, gesturing for your group to follow. "Drinks are on me to make up for this whole mess. I'm sorry for getting you all involved."

You turn around toward Seokmin, elation written all over your face that he readily mirrors. Just as you're about to grab his hand as he reaches out at the same time, there's a slow, loud handclap that sets off mental warning sirens blaring all over again.

"Conflict resolution. How very touching."

The velvety voice is deceivingly sweet. But beneath the dulcet tones lies a raw and wicked strength. It rings out clearly, even more so when the jubilant mood abruptly dies down as a new figure approaches.

"Aw, c'mon Joshie! Just when it was gettin' good!" Soonyoung whines and you belatedly realize you forgot all about the real enemies at the entrance gate, thinking they had grown bored and left.

"What about that was 'getting good'?"

The Beast huffs at Jihoon's surly attitude, more than likely pouting beneath his mask. "Was really lookin' forward to those free drinks…"

"We don't need drinks and we don't need you, Josh."

If there's one commonality between the adversary and your group, it's the shared disdain for the elegant-looking man dressed in all black fabrics with shiny leather buckles, and slicked-back locks to match.

"Hm. But I think you do."

Chilling ochre-colored eyes couldn't be bothered to look at you, drifting past you and Seokmin like you were nothing more than the grains of sand littering every surface on Gunsmoke. And like a marionette, your head automatically swivels to follow his line of sight, blood draining from your face when you realize what he's looking at.

Lina.

She breaks away from holding onto Sheryl's hand after they emerge from the saloon, bounding toward her brother with excitement all over her face. The arm that isn't supporting his firearm extends gallantly outward, ready to welcome her with a hug as he strolls to meet her halfway.

They're smiling at one another with so much adoration after the intensity from earlier. If you weren't fucking terrified, you'd wish Dokyeom was also there to see how pure a sibling relationship and affection should be.

Instead, your stomach lurches, and Seokmin hisses beside you. With your back turned, you can't see Joshua but you're sure he's smirking when Wonwoo's frame stiffens, body jerking as it moves beyond his control.

Hastily, he's cocking the rifle with expert ease and assuming the perfect position to fire it, something he previously displayed no knowledge on before. Wide eyes have no choice but to peer down the scope and he chokes at how it's unforgivingly aimed directly at his little sister.

She skids to a halt, ten paces away. Hesitant. Wary. Puzzled.

"… Wonu?"

It all plays out in slow motion as you reach for Sirocco, simultaneously screaming out to your friends to alert them and provide cover. Frantic panic swirls in the air like a sandstorm at the turn of events, but even more fear generates when the townspeople can do nothing but helplessly succumb to their limbs moving on their own too.

Despite every single effort and all of his muscles straining not to do it, Wonwoo's pointer finger on the trigger pulls back. It doesn't matter how much he struggles to fight for control, his body refuses to listen. Tears flow from his eyes even though he can't speak, can't yell, can't beg for forgiveness — the vehement sense of horror is the only thing able to overpower Joshua's terrifying control, leaking out a salty excess.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Three gunshots ring out at the same time. You fire right before Wonwoo does and Seokmin follows two seconds later. Not because his reaction time is slower. But because he could see and calculate where the bullet's headed after you changed its trajectory by shooting at Wonwoo's barrel.

It doesn't end there.

Seokmin is a half-step closer to Lina and can move at an inhumane speed, diving into a tuck-and-roll to reach her moments before the residents have no choice but to open fire too.

You know he's fast enough to dodge bullets at close range, but the staggered distance spread out among all of those present in the town's square works little for that insane advantage. Instead, the skilled combatant focuses all his attention on shielding Lina beneath the loose flaps of his impenetrable trench coat. She clings tightly to his leg, whimpering.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you."

Continuing to mutter reassurances, he pats her fluffy brown hair with an unshaking cybernetic palm while the other rapidly points his revolver upwards to deflect a bullet that might've been lucky enough to shatter the bridge of his glasses. Then doing the same to one at five o'clock on his right. He angles his body this way and that as if a puppeteer is yanking the strings connected to his limbs to the perverse beat of an unheard tune. The few he misses land harmlessly against the thick kevlar material you're all wearing.

Meanwhile, your steady hand supports the familiar weight of Sirocco. Muscle memory aids you with cocking the gun as you run. Aiming at the closest group of people near them and then — bang!, bang!, bang! — snipe off the barrels on their guns in rapid succession, rendering them useless.

From behind, something flies past your face and nicks the top of your ear — one of the few places unprotected by bulletproof material — causing you to hiss. Scowling over your shoulder, you squint in the direction it came from.

While a complete bastard, Seungcheol is also the most resourceful ray of hope in a shootout like this. The Punisher's automatic artillery relentlessly fires shot after shot, destroying old and weather-beaten guns like they're empty, crushable soda cans. It's faster too. The trigger-happy pastor twirls it around maniacally, taking only the slightest care to not actually kill anyone.

You're a hundred percent sure it's because of Joshua's disturbing power that allows him to reanimate corpses rather than Seokmin's "Thou shalt not kill" lecture and pacifist philosophies that keeps the supposed 'god-fearing' man from snuffing out anyone's life this time around. Despite the bullets whizzing around, you know he'll fare alright with that healing serum of his — just as long as he doesn't overdose on it.

Mingyu rushes over to stand back-to-back with the pastor, x-shaped claws firing out of his 'stun-gun' and immobilizing many of his targets with ease. You can't help but grimace though, wondering if they'll sustain more brain damage from Joshua's nefarious telepathy or a well-meaning concussion that leaves them unconscious and no longer posing a threat. A solid steel object flies past the brown-haired man's head, knocking down the mind-controlled person who was trying to sneak up on him using a blind spot.

"Ooh, thanks, Seungkwan!"

"Pay attention, you blockhead!"

An empty derringer lays at said blockhead's feet and Mingyu kicks it away with a childlike glee. A brand-new loaded pistol is already in Seungkwan's right hand even as he throws away the one in his left toward someone approaching Seungcheol. The young man's never empty-handed for long because with another flashy twirl from out of his cloak and a new handgun is cocked, aimed, and fired.

Despite the distance and conditions, all three work together like clockwork. Different shaped and sized cogs all interconnected to succeed without causing too much harm. And you know you must play your part as well, turning your attention back to the few townsfolk that remain.

"Seokmin, switch!"

It's not like he needs the heads-up. The way you'd both been inching closer to each other every time your gun's fired already issued the forewarning. It's like a subtle tango performed by two fierce allies surrounded by deadly enemies. If you didn't know better, it's similar to an intricate sword dance.

But you knew how dangerous it was to play with knives.

The swift transfer of Lina's warm little body into your arms is a welcome comfort. Seokmin sends you a dazzling smile, one full of confidence at a successful swap.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you coo and your gloved thumb wipes away one of the tear trails cutting through the dirt smudges on her face. "You are so, so, so brave and I'm so, so, so proud of you."

"He," she sniffles, "my… my… br-brother. W-Wonu!"

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you turn her to face the other way. "Everything's going to fine. I promise. Now, run to Seungcheol. He'll keep you safe while the rest of us finish this."

Seungkwan and Mingyu had effectively disarmed everyone on their end and now worked on dragging the town's unconscious residents inside the saloon and attending to any wounds. The pastor stood guard near the entrance with his Punisher staked firmly into the sandy ground. Although empty of ammunition, the machine gun still served a purpose as a great defender with its imposing cross shape.

With the target assuredly safe — out of sight, out of mind — the control Joshua has over those remaining falters and starts to lose its effect. In the brief lull, Seokmin dashes ahead to deliver a flying kick that helpfully unsheathes the dagger hidden in the sole of his boots, demolishing one more firearm in someone's grip before it can be used again.

Bang!

Bang!

And with Sirocco's precision, the last two are destroyed as well. You match your comrade's grin and turn triumphantly to where the instigators still stand at the entrance.

There would be no casualties today. You and your comrades would make sure of that.

Joshua, stoic as ever, surveys the aftermath with an air of unbothered gracefulness. Jihoon fumes next to him. Panic spikes when Soonyoung can't be spotted at first until you spy him curled up in the car's front seat — asleep.

You fist bump Seokmin in high spirits. Then fearlessly meet a pair of deep orange eyes devoid of any emotion or warmth, a shift occurs in your smile. Confidence and satisfaction hone the corners of your mouth into a daring smirk and something about the bold taunt causes a rare flicker of humor to cross Joshua's lips. Whether it's scornful pity or simple mockery, you don't have time to figure it out because Jihoon snaps.

Nails.

Several of them fly through the air and their wielder's formidable namesake comes from the daunting color that makes the multitude of piercers look like thin streaks of blood against the pale blue sky. The spikes as long as spears are all fired from Jihoon's large suitcase-turned-crossbow that aims just shy of your left side.

Those steel eyes of his are as sharp as their color. The malice within them feels suffocating, so strong and heavy that it sucks all the breath straight out of your lungs. Only the pain from a nail grazing your cheek is enough to pull your attention away from drowning in the unnerving emotion and you put a hand up to the laceration to soothe the sting.

Wetness oozes from your skin, an unsettling feeling of sliminess accompanying the touch. Puzzled, your fingers retract and you ponder the sheer amount of red viscoelastic fluid coating them. There's so much of it pooling that droplets fall to the sand below while others dribble down past your wrist and under your sleeve, the stain blending right in with the fabric of your coat.

Drip.

"It's all your fault!"

Drip.

"Their blood is on your hands…"

Drip.

"Don't you feel guilty?"

Drip.

"Don't you feel responsible?"

Drip.

"Do you regret being the only one left to live?"

Drip.

Faces you know and voices you cannot recall overlap and echo. Unfamiliar frowning expressions and intonations you remember as once gentle now ridicule, belittle, and find every crack in your well-made armor. Insidious whispers weave inside, entangling themselves within the fragile support structures of your mind and very soul. They point and cackle to one another at such a sorry sight, only for you to realize you're angrily jabbing a pointer finger at your worthless reflection with those cursory words coming straight out of your own mouth.

Drip.

Your head turns robotically, like an early prototype of the lost technology Earthlings created. This time it's Sheryl who's the victim, helplessly well within the trajectory line of Jihoon's rage. Every muscle aches, weighed down by exhaustion. Your shoulder burns. Yet you still somehow find the strength within you to rush toward her, especially hearing Lina's desperate wail as she's held back by a grimacing Seungcheol.

Drip.

Like a comet, Seokmin blazes past. He skids to a stop, effectively shielding the woman right before impact. You're too slow to move. In fact, it feels like an out-of-body experience. As if you're nothing but a hologram inside the floating ship — an artificial intelligence projection with no other choice but to witness the horrors and observe tangible objects scuttle towards their inevitable doom without interference. You're left with no choice but to simply watch as the nails are propelled through the air with the intent to strike.

Drip.

Someone's screaming. Maybe it's you.

Drip.

The nails impale Seokmin without mercy. Strike after strike, they pierce straight through the material of his coat designed to repel only bullets and plunge deep within the muscles beneath his skin. One after the other. So many of them stick out of the man's backside like the skeletal bone formation for wings. He slumps to his knees, falling on top of a bewildered but unharmed Sheryl. When he only lays still with no further action, you're struck with the dreadful knowledge that he may never move again and it fills you with an unfathomable maelstrom of raw grief and anger.

Drip.

Suddenly, you're no longer drowning in invisible quicksand and can move freely again. There's zero hesitation in your now fluid movements — not even when the blond-haired man poises his crossbow directly at you this time. Pulling out the spare gun hidden near your hip, you blast the airborne spikes flying towards you without hesitation.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

More fall than you shoot. The anger, pain, and grief you wield is enough to tear them apart like they're nothing but worm larvae helplessly caught in a sandstorm. You stalk forward through the crimson ire that relentlessly strikes down, clearing a path that's littered with broken, twisted, and dented nails before resolutely aiming point-blank at Jihoon's forehead.

Click.

More people are screaming and the spiteful cacophony in your mind resumes. But your ears feel like they're filled with cotton and this time you're stuck underwater. Your chest rises and falls, trying and failing to collect yourself.

"… out of it!"

"Hyperventialing -"

"Goddamn it! Get ahold o'yerself, woman!"

The Crimsonnail sneers.

Your cheek stings.

The dissonance reminds you of the wound from before. But this time it feels like a sting, as if someone slapped you — albeit rather gently. Numb, you halt in place and cautiously raise your hand back to your surprisingly unmarred face. But rather than skin, you grasp onto something solid. Something familiar. Something kind. Something loving. Something safe. Something warm. Something that's yours — always has been and always will be.

Someone.

And then… you open your eyes — and find yourself staring directly into Seokmin's sparkling brown ones.

"Y-you're dead," you manage to choke out in disbelief and his eyes incredulously crinkle into half-moons at the statement to hide the tears brimming in them.

The soothing hand caressing your cheek moves to wrap around the barrel of the gun you're pressing to his forehead and he smiles disarmingly. As if what you just said was the funniest thing ever.

"I know, mayfly."

Part 2 | Read the whole thing on AO3

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

[cupcakeslushie]

Do you have any tips on for people starting a comic and wanting to post to tumblr? Like pacing ect. Or well any experience you’ve had with your comics? Love your content as well ❤️

If it’s simply for fun, and you’re just trying to gain experience, my biggest advice would be to just START. Don’t worry about it looking perfect. Don’t worry about comparing it to other’s comics. Just try something, and if you find it’s not working, you can always change things up. I have gone through several styles and page layouts since starting. Do I wish those first pages of EW looked just like what I’m doing now? Yes, but if I’d waited around for perfection I would have never started. And I wouldn’t have had nearly as much fun creating it! If people like it, that’s great, but your art is for you. If you’re growing and learning and having fun, then you’ve accomplished something!

Now for some less preachy advice 😂…

—If your comic is gonna be hosted on Tumblr specifically, I would say, make sure you keep the 10 image limit in the back of your mind when you’re pacing things. That can definitely cause some headaches down the line. If you don’t plan ahead, and end up hitting it, you’ll have a sudden cut in your flow. This last update I knew it was gonna be long, so while I did plan, but I could’ve planned better.

—Variety is key!!!!!

Composition changes keep your viewers from getting bored. Sometimes I’ll find myself falling back into the bad habit of just doing the simple back and forth with two characters talking straight on, but changing the camera angle, making establishing shots when you change locations, and over the shoulder shots, etc etc…All these will make for a more interesting viewing. You may think a character needs to be in every single panel to make it interesting, but if you have a lot of dialogue, a simple plain shot—either in top of a solid background, or just over something boring, like a glance at the set, etc—this will let people focus on the words rather than splitting their focus.

Variety applies to shading as well—whether you’re using color or black/white. Variety in values are SO important for comics. You’re shoving a ton of information in a limited space, so try to keep your values different for items that are close together….it can make things very confusing and turn your line work into indistinguishable blobs if you shade without this in mind.

(Using this panel as an example….)

The top two panels have a variety of darker values and a halftone background—so the next two with Venus, I kept rather simple. I could’ve colored the buildings behind her, but then, she might’ve gotten lost amidst all the grey. There’s not really any trick or solid rule to this, but once you develop your creative eye, you’ll make these choices without even thinking about it.

A few links to helpful tools (they’re all procreate centered I’m afraid 😅)

Outline brush — a free tutorial for Procreate users. This brush kinda mimics the CPS feature that lets you create panels with a nice black outline. I used this brush very often, and it really gives your panels a professional look. Fair warning, it can be glitchy, but it’s free…

Manero Comic Bubbles and sfx — These brushes are not free, so I would recommend maybe getting in your groove before you try them out. They’re by no means necessary, but I’ve just started using them, and they save me so much time. There’s a HUGE selection of shapes, and they go on with a solid white background, so you don’t have to worry about coloring around your dialogue balloons.

[live-laugh-lenney]

You should so do a fic where the reader has a podcast (like saving grace) and everyone noticed how comparable she and Arthur seem he. He’s a guest (even though she’s like much more extroverted) would be fun🤞❤️

oh, this would be so cute :'))

if there was one thing yn felt comfortable doing, it was waffling.

she just loved to talk. about anything and everything, from what she had read on twitter to what she had heard about online to a brand new documentary that she had taken an interest in when flicking the channels on the television. delving deep into topics that had endless possibilities, spewing off facts that she'd read about online and putting her own thoughts forward in certain aspects that she found interesting and favourable to whoever she was with.

when she came up with the idea of hosting her very own podcast, in the middle of a housewarming party for one of her friends, she was excited to have a platform where she could let her own thoughts be freed yet she was also terrified it wouldn't take off and that she'd make it to a respectful ten episodes before she gave in and decided it wasn't something that the world needed.

when her first episode came out, she had asked james marriott to be her very first guest. one of her best friends, someone she had known for a while, someone who she felt comfortable around and gave her the space to speak freely without making her feel judged. allowing him to promote his new album as well as allowing them to discuss all kinds of musical knowledge from who their favourite bands were and who he would love to open for on a world tour.

and it took off.

earning herself over half a million views in the passing of one day, a lot of youtube subscribers who were offering their own suggestions on the different guests she could have and the more positivity she saw, the more she read, the more excited she was to continue.

she had herself a sweet studio; big beanbags instead of chairs, with a blanket draped over the back of each one and a decorative pillow that was there for added comfort and matched the colour scheme of the whole room, with shelves nailed to the wall full of relatable objects and images that fit her branding - images of her friends, her podcast name in neon lights and a few faux plants that hung low. it was just a simple setup but it felt homely and that was the vibe she had planned from the very beginning.

"good morning, good afternoon or good evening, depending on when you're checking in. i'm yn and welcome back to the one and only podcast on youtube dot com where we just sit and talk shit for an hour," she grins widely at the camera, cosying back into the beanbag beneath her and crossing her legs, hand holding the microphone to her lips, "today, we're joined the king of 90 day fiancé. it's mister arthur television."

"hello, hi."

he gives the camera a short wave and smiles widely, already having cosied himself down in a similar manner to the way yn was sitting in her beanbag, their shoes (both a sucker for comfort and choosing their air force 1's over any other trainer) kicked off aimlessly onto the rug in the middle of the room and left in a heap, his jacket draped over the back of his seat.

"thank you for having me," he looks in her direction, "this is definitely one of my favourite sets i've ever been on. it feels so homey and wholesome."

"i tried to base it on what my bedroom back home used to look like as a teenager," she giggles softly, looking over her shoulder and flicking on the orb lamp that was placed on a shelf above their heads for a bit of additional lighting to fit the ambience of the room, "i was such a tumblr girl growing up, i think it shows."

"i was gon'a say," he laughs and she rolls her eyes in his direction, "it feels very nice. very comforting. especially with the blankets."

"my nana knitted them for me," yn states, "just for this podcast. she's an avid listener, my number one fan, ."

"really?"

"no. i'm kidding," yn laughs softly and he looks across to her, "i don't think she really gets the whole podcast thing, to be honest. she's only just started to understand the whole youtube thing, bless her. she's a sweet soul and i love her but she's so innocent when it comes to all things technological."

"you should use that story more," arthur insists and adjusts himself in the seat as he felt himself sliding down into a slouch, "it adds more story to the setup. it's cute."

"i'll tell her you said that. she'll love it," yn giggles, 'but, anyway. you, arthur frederick, are one of my most requested guests to appear on my podcast."

arthur's eyes widened and he can feel the heat covering his cheeks as he looks across to her, microphone still held tight to his lips, hoping it hid the shy smile that grew on his lips.

"seriously. i had people practically spamming me on twitter to get you on here," she explains and looks at the camera, "you're a loved man, aren't you?"

"i guess i am," he admits shyly, "people are also asking me and isaac to get you on the bach and arthur podcast. close second to george."

"we'll have to make that happen," yn grins widely, "the viewers would love that crossover. chaos crew and little ol' me."

"i think you'd fit in perfectly," he says, "at least i'll have someone on there that appreciates my facts and interesting tidbits of information. it gets lost amongst them. they're not so intelligent when it comes to you and i."

she snorts and shakes her head, dropping her eyes down to her lap before she looks back up; he wasn't lying, truth be told. she was no stranger to being in a conversation with him, at parties and at events both of them were attending, that involved exchanged fact after fact after fact with each other, hours passing by as they discussed nature topics and the newest piece of information to do with outer space and all the theories coming from online.

with the hour closing in, she didn't want the conversations to end. and she knew, in the back of her mind, that she needed him back on her podcast for another episode because he understood her. and she understood him. and their talks flowed effortlessly with no need for extra encouragement from those around them in the room.

he was an interesting man and she wanted more.

both personally and for her podcast.

--

anyone else getting heart eye vibes from the two of them???

yn was in her element for this episode!!

arthur being on this podcast just made my day. we need more of the two of them!!!

the way there was no silence at all this entire episode. conversations flow between these two.

the two of them are the same person, i swear.

without a doubt, arthur is the male version of yn. that's adorable.

its like the universe copied and pasted their personalities into two people of the opposite genders. that's so cute!!

--

"the podcast episode was a hit thanks to you."

yn surprises him and made him jump as she approached him at the bar, his figure turning from where he was stood with his back to her so he could pull her in for a hug, and she grins up at him before her own arms wrapped around his waist. a sex on the beach cocktail held tight in her hand and she was careful not to spill it down the back of his shirt.

"i was wondering where you were," he says and lets go of her to pick up his beer that had been placed on the bartop, "when you texted me to say you were coming to chris' birthday drinks, i knew i had to come and find you when you arrived."

"looks like i beat you to it," she says and she takes a sip of her drink through the straw, "people loved the two of us together on there."

"yeah?"

she nods quickly.

"i'm pretty sure it was the best episode to date. figures wise," she says and he grins widely, looking over her shoulder and seeing a free table in the corner of the room, using his head to indicate for her to look at where he was looking, "i'm gon'a need you to feature again, for sure."

she turns on her heels and wiggles her way through the crowd, the feeling of his hand resting on the base of her back driving her insane as she set her drink down on the table and hopped up on the stool, watching as he did the same.

"i'm not keeping you from chris, am i?"

"no, he's about to hop on the karaoke with isaac," arthur cackles out loud and looks over his shoulder at where his two friends were arguing over the song book, "i'm too sober for that at the moment so I can't think of anything worse right now."

"you're not one of those party poopers, are you?"

"no," he shakes his head, "i just need to be almost blackout drunk in order to belt out my lungs really, really poorly."

"i think i need to get some shots in you then because i really need to see that tonight." xx

[jobean12-blog]

Along for the Ride

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader (Biker AU)

Word Count: 1,855

Summary: You convince Joel to go to the state fair wtih you..he’s grumpy about it but he’ll do anything that makes you happy.  

Author’s Note: This is for @the-slumberparty June Monthly Challenge-Summer vibes! My item is a popsicle and my setting is a festival/fair. Thank you so much to Navy and Roo for hosting! I have one planned in the same setting for Cowboy!Joel because one my friends are the best kind of support and two it was really too hard to pick between them haha! Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️All dividers used are by my lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics

Warnings: lots of fun, fluff and flirting, soft and sweet moments, Joel is grumpy but he’s always perfect for you. 

EDIT NOT MINE: Thank you so much to @pedritosdarling for making this amazing edit with my Biker!Joel in mind, it means so much! I LOVE IT! 😍

Joel Miller Masterlist

“Is it ok if we take my bike darlin’?”

“Of course,” you answer with a quick kiss. “You know I love riding with you…but showing up in your pickup truck would be more on par for the fair,” you giggle.

“Yeah, yeah. I still can’t believe you convinced me to go to this,” he grumbles.

“It didn’t take much,” you tease, batting your lashes.

“Well you had me in a compromising position when you asked. I wasn’t exactly thinking with my brain.  I’m pretty sure I would have agreed to anything princess.”  

He’s trying to suppress a smile but the more you hold his gaze the more his lips twitch upward.

“We’re going to have a great time,” you state as you pack your bag. “Besides, you never tell me no…no matter what position you’re in.”

You wiggle your shoulders haughtily before asking, “and what’s with calling me princess?”

He slides up behind you, pressing into your body so he has you caged along the counter, his arms on either side of you.

His lips brush the shell of your ear. “Mm you’re right, I never tell you no. Made me think of a princess…”

“And you’re my knight in shining armor,” you giggle, willing your body not to react to him.

Warm and soft lips trail down your neck before meeting your shoulder, his fingers pushing the strap of your dress down so he can continue his path of kisses.

“Thought I was your teddy bear…” he murmurs.

His beard tickles your skin, sending goosebumps running down your arm.

“Joel,” you breathe out, trembling in his hold. “Don’t you dare try to distract me. We are going to the fair.”

Your words come out breathy and much less assertive than you wanted and you feel him smile against your skin.

“Whatever you say princess.”

His other hand smooths down the curve of your waist and he turns you around to face him. His kisses continue to move down your neck, across your collarbone, and he traces the thin edge of the top of your dress, the barest of touches but it leaves a burning heat in its wake.

“Joel.”

It’s a warning but comes out more like a whine.

He takes your chin between his thick fingers and brings your eyes to his, kissing you softly before smiling.

“Ok darlin’. Come on. I’m gonna take you to the fair…”

His warm hand closes around yours and he starts to walk you to the door.

“I feel like there was a but at the end of that sentence,” you say, squeezing his fingers.

“Let’s just hope I can behave while we’re there.”

With a cheeky wink he escorts you out the door, handing you your helmet before throwing a long leg over his bike.

You practically skip toward the entrance, one of Joel’s hands in yours and his other stuffed into the front pocket of his jeans as you drag him nearer.

“Come on you!”

He takes too long strides and catches up, releasing your hand only to wrap it around your waist and tuck you into his side.

“What are we doin’ first?” he asks with a kiss to the top of your head.

As you approach the fairgrounds, the air is filled with anticipation and a buzz of excitement. Everything is colorful and vibrant from the bright lights and colorful banners to the lively music playing in the background.

You glance at Joel and notice as he takes it all in that he’s rubbing the back of his neck and looking sort of misplaced.

When he catches you staring he huffs lightly. “I stick out like a sore thumb.”

You do nothing to hide the way you blatantly check him out then grab the front of his tight tee shirt and drag his lips down to yours.

“Who cares,” you whisper when you pull away.

Your fingers sneak under the tight sleeves of his tee before sliding down over his biceps. He flexes and you hum appreciatively, pressing closer.

“Now who’s lookin’ to cause a distraction princess,” he growls.

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip and you give him a demure smile.

As you move further onto the grounds, you’re immediately greeted by a plethora of sights and smells. Food stands line the pathways, enticing you with the delightful aroma of freshly cooked and fried treats.

“Somethin’ smells good,” he says, eyeing the ice cream and cotton candy stand.

“Let’s get something!” you cheer as you rush over.

After ordering two popsicles you head over to a picnic table in the shade.

“Do you want some?” you ask as the pop hovers near your mouth.

He keeps his eyes trained on you and waits, watching intensely as you press it to your lips, parting them then sucking it into your mouth.

“Mmmm so good.”

He sits on the bench of the table, his legs spread wide as you settle between them, still working the popsicle in and out of your mouth.

“Princess,” he warns, his eyes dark. “You better stop sucking on that pop like you wish it was my…”

“Joel Miller don’t you dare finish that sentence!” you admonish but make no move to stop the way you’re clearly deep throating your popsicle. “We are at the fair and there are children present.”

Without another word he grabs you around the waist and pulls you down onto his lap, his free hand landing on your bare thigh.

“I’m pretty sure no one would be surprised if I said what I wanted to say darlin’.”

“Yeah, yeah. Big tough guy…tattoos…leather…”

You press your cold lips to his scruffy cheek and then move to take another lick of your popsicle but he grabs your face and turns it so he can give you a proper kiss, parting your lips to taste the flavor on your tongue.

“You done working that popsicle yet?” he asks, brushing his lips lightly along yours.

You push it back into your mouth then pop it out again. “Nope!”

He shifts you on his lap so you can feel how your popsicle eating antics are affecting him.

With a squeak you wiggle your butt and he quickly tightens his hold on your waist to stop you.

“And I thought I was the one who was going to be the problem today,” he simpers.

You shrug like it’s nothing, still sucking on your popsicle.

“Ok, I’m done,” you say, when there’s nothing left but the wooden stick. “Let’s go find a game where you can win me a stuffed animal.”

You hop off his lap and tug on his hand.

“Just gimme a minute princess.”

You giggle and go to sit back down but he blocks you.

“Darlin’,” he grumbles. “That won’t help any.”

When you discover the games you’re eager to find one in particular and you pull Joel along, pointing out all the cute stuffed animals he can win for you.

“There it is!” you shout.

You rush over to the balloon dart game and try to keep your excitement at bay.

“You’re going to be so good at this,” you tell him. “You always beat the guys at darts at the bar!”

The guy working the booth gives Joel the once over before taking his money. You roll your eyes and press yourself into Joel’s side, giving the guy a mocking smile.

Joel lines up his shot and pulls his arm back to let the dart fly. It lands just above a red balloon. You don’t say anything and just wait as he takes the other two shots.

He misses them both.

“Fucking weighted darts,” he grumbles. “They make it so you can’t win this shit.”

His body is tense and his jaw is set in a hard line.

You hang on to his bicep and whisper in his ear, “one more time…for me? Please?”

He looks at you and his expression softens. “Just for you princess.”

He pays for another round of darts and readies himself again. The first two miss but on his last shot he hits a blue balloon and it explodes in a spray of water.

“Fuck yeah!” he cheers and you join in with a whoop of happiness.

“Which one do you want princess?” he asks as he pulls you in front of him and wraps you in his arms.

“THE BIG PINK UNICORN!” you say excitedly.

The guy at the booth pulls it down and hands it to you.

“What are you gonna name him,” Joel asks.

“Joel.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Really princess.”

“Yep,” you reply, popping the p. “Really, really.”

“He can be best friends with the teddy bear you got me,” you explain as you run your fingers over your new unicorn.

Having Joel’s bike was the best idea, especially once it came time to catch the evening sunset before fireworks and the two of you are able to meander through the traffic and find a secluded spot on the grass.

You sit comfortably in his embrace, watching the sky transform into a canvas of vibrant colors, the hues of orange, pink and purple beginning to spread across the horizon.

“This is so beautiful,” you say in awe.

He grunts in response.

After a few moments you turn in his arms and snort.

“That’s all you got? Ungh.”

You mimic the noise he made.

He stares at you. “You’re so much more beautiful.”

You stare back and suddenly your eyes go wide and light up in realization.

“OH MY GOD, you’re still grumpy about losing the darts game!”

He looks offended. “I am not darlin’! And besides, I didn’t lose…I won you the unicorn didn’t I?”

You poke his hard chest. “You are so!” you tease. “And I mean it took you two tries…”

“Whatever you say princess,” he mutters, but you can see the corners of his lips turn up slightly.

“And his name is JOEL,” you add, unable to stop your laughter that bubbles up.

He kisses the smile right off your lips but you feel his own before he presses the palm of his hand to your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin, his eyes soft as he studies your face.

You reach up and lightly drag your fingers across his jaw then run your nose along the same path, your eyes closing as your lips meet in a soft kiss.

The sun descends, its rays illuminating the fairgrounds, casting long shadows and creating a beautiful interplay of light and dark. The rides, food stalls and exhibits start to twinkle, creating a background of sparkling rainbow lights against the deepening sky.

His hands move lower, curling around your waist and sliding you under him until you’re laying back on the blanket beneath him.

As his lips kiss a path down your neck his hand slides up along your inner thigh and he gently pushes your legs part.

“Joel, the fireworks are about to start,” you weakly protest, letting your legs fall open.

“Nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he murmurs, his hand gliding higher. “And besides, think I’ve behaved for long enough princess.”

@sstan-hoe @justkinsey @blackwidownat2814 @beccablogsthings @laineyreads @lorilane33​ @littleseasiren​

[arielburrow]

Joe being nervous of you meeting his family

Pumpkin Pie

nothing like a Thanksgiving fic in June 🤭

Fall in Ohio was definitely your favorite time of the year. The leaves changing always signaled to you mentally that football season was in full swing and the holidays were around the corner.

You take in the scenery for a moment before continuing to your boyfriends front door. “Joe!” you call out, entering his home.

“Hey you!” he welcomes you with a warm hug after being away from each other for a week. You traveled to Pennsylvania to visit family and attend an event with other NFL photographers that the league hosted annually.

“How was your trip? How’s your mom doing?” he questions as you both take a seat on the couch.

“Shes doing good, I saw my sister, it was really nice to be home for a bit and see everyone before they leave.” Your mom was traveling to Europe with her lifelong best friend, which you were a little concerned about at her age, but she insisted it had to be checked off the bucket list. Your sister was also heading to Florida to stay with her husband’s family for Thanksgiving, so your mom wanted everyone to be together since you’d be apart for the holiday.

“That’s good to hear, but i’m glad your back, I missed you a lot.” He smirks pulling you to his chest.

“I know Joe I missed you too, you know it’s funny we’ve only been officially dating for a month and I don’t even like being apart from you for a week.” You giggle into his chest.

“Yep. Joe Burrow effect.” He innocently shrugs receiving a nudge from you causing him to laugh.

“Hey I have a question….” he leads on. You look up to him with a bit of concern.

“Can you…I mean….do you by any chance like pumpkin pie?”

You laugh at his demeanor, he seemed almost scared for your response. “ I love pumpkin pie Joe, why do you ask?”

“oh thank GOD.” he looks almost relieved as he stands from the couch and walks to the fridge. You watch as he pulls a Costco pumpkin pie from the fridge, this of course being the only thing in the fridge besides a bottle of ketchup. He grabs two forks and heads back to you, placing the pie between you two and handing you a fork.

“Here.” he smiles and reaches for the remote to find a movie.

“Plates?” you ask.

“Nope, we don’t need them.” he insists.

“alright then.”

After a long night of Joe showing you how much he missed you, you got up early for a workout with your best friend.

She catches you up on her guy drama and you fill her in on Joe.

“Oh so you’re going to Thanksgiving with Joe’s family? That’ll be fun!” She responds to you’re blurb about you being home for the holiday.

You whip your head towards her as you both push through the stairmaster.

“Um what?” You respond in complete shock at your assumption.

“Well yeah…I mean, what is Joe gonna do, drive to Athens and leave you here for Thanksgiving? No way, he’s gonna want you to go with him.”

“I’ve never met his family before though, he makes them sound so sweet but that’s like a huge thing.” You respond between huffs, wiping your hand of the sweat along your forehead.

The two of you go back in forth on the conversation as you finish your workout. Leaving the gym you couldn’t help but to overthink the situation. Was Joe assuming you would just go with him? He might not even be considering it?

After showering and ordering takeout, you finally have time to wind down in your own apartment. You were finishing up some editing when Joe texted.

Joe❤️- dinner tmr night, I’m cooking

you- you mean your chef is cooking?

Joe❤️-😉

The next day you spend at the facility and finishing up more editing. Heading to Joe’s house the question rings through your head again. Does he want me to meet his parents?

You can immediately smell the fajitas Joe requests weekly as you walk into his house. You greet his chef and make your way upstairs do find him on the phone with someone. You walk into his room quietly and plop down next to him, soon able to put together that he must be talking to his mother. As he hangs up he turns back to face you, pulling you into him. “You hungry?” he questions. “Starving” you respond pulling him up from the bed to go back downstairs.

You both take a seat at the table as the chef brings over the food; both expressing your gratitude for the meal, after all, neither of you could cook. Without Joe’s chef, takeout would be the only option. You both make small talk throughout dinner and go over each others days.

“I heard you talking to your mom, how is she doing?” you ask picking up the glass of water. “She’s good, she was just checking in on things, asking me about Thanksgiving and stuff. I’m on pumpkin pie duty because she knows i’m picky about where the pie is from.” He babbles on, you laugh at the pie comment. “You know i’ve know you for almost a year and was given no insight into the punpkin pie fanatic that you are.” he gives you a surprised look. “Umm, what do you mean? Friendsgiving last year? At Jamarr’s? The pie that everyone was raving about…the one that I brought.” He goes on bragging about this situation which you have zero memory of, but give him the credit any way.

“So, since your family’s all out of town, what are you going to do for the holiday?” he looks up to you with seemingly hopeful eyes. “Um I don’t really know honestly, maybe i’ll just hang around here or go to Anna’s place?” you responded taking both of your plates to the sink.

“Why don’t you come with me?” he asks. “To Athens for the night, we won’t stay long cause of practice and everything but it would be nice for you to meet my family” he picks up the dishes to clean as you seat yourself in a barstool across from him.

“You’re ready for me to meet them?” you ask watching him load the dishwasher. “Yeah, I mean i’ve been wanting you guys to meet for a long time and they never get to see you at games cause your always on the field.” he says.

You think for a moment, then smile. “Yeah i’ll go with you.” He smiles in return, walking over to you and sitting with you on the couch. “Can you stay tonight?” He asks pushing a strand of hair from your face. “I have to go to the office early tomorrow, like earlier then you go for practice,” you say to him. “That’s fine, I have to meet with Brian anyway.” he returns. “Okay then, im staying,” you respond shifting yourself to lay in his lap as he finds a show to watch. “My moms going to be so happy your coming,” you smile as you hear him say it before dozing off.

A week later your packing a bag for Joe’s house. You were heading over there tonight, and leaving tomorrow morning for his parents house. You had him on FaceTime at the moment as you got everything together. “I hope you like them, I mean i know they’ll love you, but I hope you like them and-”

“Joe” you cut him off laughing. “They’re you’re parents, i’m going to love them, don’t you worry. I’m the one whose supposed to be nervous not you!” you giggle. “I know, I know, it’s just really important to me you know? I love you and I want you to feel like you’re apart of the family.” You smile at what he says. You and Joe confessed your love for one an other a while ago, but it still made you blush hearing him say the phrase. “I love you too Joe, and I promise i’m so excited to become apart of your family.” You pick up the phone to see his face. You and Joe had a funny dynamic. Technically you had only been together for a month, but you fell for him way before that. The day you were hired by the Bengals you knew there would be a professional problem because you became addicted to him. His looks, his jokes, just being around him was like a drug for you and you knew there was no escaping. You were definitely a little nervous about meeting his parents, but you were excited that this was happening. It made this whole dream feel a little more real.

The next morning you wake up in Joes arms. The two of you spend the morning getting ready and Joe expressing his little worries to you which you insisted he stoped talking about. “You know they’re going to drown you with questions right?” He asks you getting in the car. “Joe, that’s okay, all you need to worry about is your pumpkin pie.” You console him cupping his cheeks as you lean over to kiss them. He glances to the backseat to ensure it’s there, making you laugh.

The drive to Athens is quiet and relaxing, you let Joe have aux for about 15 minutes before you steal the cord. Pulling into his parents driveway, you take in the old red brick home that seems to be gushing with childhood memories. Joe’s parents appear and you meet them with a warm hug and hello. Robin hugs Joe tightly after not seeing him for a few weeks. Walking into the house you’re immediate hit with the sweet smell of cinnamon spice and you can’t help but smile. The four of you take a seat on the couch and Robin explains that others will be joining soon. She asks about your job and how you like working with the organization. “It’s honestly amazing, I worked in Seattle for a while, but it doesn’t even compare to this organization, and it’s nice to be able to work back in my home state,” you say. “It’s definitely something special, they really care.” Jimmy chimes in with a smile. After some more small talk Joe and his dad talk football while Robin gathers photo albums. She sits with you as she shows you baby Joe and gives you a backstory on the pictures. You die over each picture which Joe rolls his eyes at. “I was three!” he yells over your reaction to the picture of him running bare naked in the street with a football in his hand.

You could immediately tell Joes parents were something special, they are a big part of the man he is today and you were so happy you got to join the Burrows.

Others arrive soon after, and the house fills with chatter. You make your way around meeting the others and saying hi to Joes friends who also joined dinner, who you have met before.

You help Robin and Joes aunts in the kitchen for a while, the four of you chattering for hours before Joe pulls you aside.

“So?” he asks. “So what Joey? You want a rating on your family? I love them, I love all of this, I promise. Stop overthinking this and go sit with your friends.” You reach up to kiss him on the cheek and he smiles and nods.

You finish helping with dinner and setting the table with Joe. You all finally sit down together, the table beaming with chatter and laughter. “Thank you all for being with us, those of you who were on time, and those who showed up five minutes ago.” Jimmy says glancing towards Joes brothers, causing everyone to laugh. “I’m just kidding, but really it’s nice to have everyone under the same roof for the holiday.” “we love you all, now please eat!” Robin adds with a smile. You make small talk with different relatives at the table and with Joe. After dinner, you sit with Robin and Joe’s aunts, while the guys do the dishes.

“So y/n, you and Joe are absolutely adorable, really I know that boy and how he is with girls and he is really in love with you.” His mom’s sister comments with a smile. You return the smile and you can’t lie that you felt a blush from that comment. You loved that she picked up on that. “Do you see your family often?” the other sister asks. “Sometimes, most of them are in Pennsylvania so they come to games some times and I just went up there last week to visit.” you respond. Everyone joins in the living room as Joe serves the pumpkin pie. Robin puts on a Christmas movie, insisting that it was now Christmas season, which you couldn’t argue with.

Joe takes a seat next to you and you rest your head on his shoulder. The rest of the night is filled with reminiscing on childhoods and lots of football. You hug everyone goodbye and Robin pulls you in tight. “Thank you y/n” she whispers “he really needs you” she smiles and moves to hug Joe goodbye. The drive home is again a comfortable silence that you happily doze off to, knowing you’re family just expanded tremendously.

[fadingdaggerr]

Hey can I request a melissa schemmenti x femreader based on season two episode 1.where maybe the reader is rlly stressed out and maybe she can’t park bc Ava is using her parking spot to celebrate the eagles game and maybe mr Johnson comes into to tell the reader her is getting toed away so her,Melissa and the other teachers run outside and maybe the reader is getting angry and shouting at the man,melissa is begging her to calm down.and then she does what Janine did in the actual episode and she gets in the car and try’s to drive off and everyone is telling her to stop and Melissa try’s to get her out the car and out of rage she kicks the car and hurts her foot and then maybe the reader storms back into the school and melissa goes to find her when the school day is over and the reader has a panic attack and Melissa comforts her. Tysm ❤️

delphinium blooms

pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader

summary: request above! i made little changes, mostly just so i wasn’t just rewriting janine’s scene but with r and mel but i hope you still like it :)

warnings: hurt/comfort, r has a morning of unfortunate events, r is kinda mean (to a man so it’s fine), stress/anxiety crying

note: i rewrote so much of this because i kept thinking of things and creating nonsense lmao but i had a lot of fun writing

development week has always been the calm before the storm. you had everything planned already: each month’s separate decor to keep a lively room, the giant drawing paper for the wall so students could doodle during free time (and you could proudly display their art), and even the seating chart was done. everything was perfect and in order, everything just needed to be set up.

but sometimes the storm comes before the calm, or the calm packs its things and jumps out of the moving car.

the coffee maker in your apartment died on you, only about half a cup of watery coffee in the bottom of the pot. you didn’t have the money, nor the time, to stop that the cafe one block over. rent’s more important, we can get coffee at work, you tell yourself. you soon found that it was nearly unbearable to eat breakfast without your coffee and splash of oat milk creamer. coffee and maybe breakfast at work, i guess.

at nine in the morning, there is a full-on barbecue in the parking lot of abbott elementary. janine’s parking spot was a grill station. your spot, which was two down from janine’s, was currently being used as a blow-up pool splash zone. you roll down your window when you see ava close by.

“ava! what the hell is this?” you yelled out your window.

“it’s a development day party!” the principal responded with a big, happy grin.

you sighed, “your party’s in my parking spot.”

“pay valet or park somewhere else, i have a party to host,” she waves you off as she turns to talk to whoever approached her. after a, give-or-take, nine hundred point turn, you parked your car on the street. you prayed to the meter-maid goddesses that you’d have time to move it before someone came and ticketed you.

you pulled box after box out of the backseat, stacking them in your arms, creating the leaning tower of heavy-as-shit. as you slowly walk towards the fourth grade classrooms, you top few boxes get lifted away, easing the load significantly. you look to see who it was, expecting gregory, but instead you’re met with jade green eyes and fiery hair.

“trynna show off carrying all these?” she says with a laugh.

you laugh with her, “oh, of course. how else am i going to impress the ladies?” melissa snorts a laugh at this, opening the door to your classroom and letting you in ahead of her.

“and who are these ladies?” she jests.

you look at her, taking in the smirk on her face before answering, “we both know it’s just the one.”

she helps you spread out the boxes and get everything open before asking, “ready to head to the opening meeting?”

“you mean the ava show?”

she laughs, “yeah, come on.”

—

you half-listen to ava’s little speech and flirts to gregory, your eyes trained on melissa’s rings instead of ava’s vacation photos. you only perked your head up when janine mentioned donuts at her little mixer.

“and why would i wanna go to that?” melissa answered janine, barbara nodding in agreement beside her.

“you said donuts?” you ask janine, she nods eagerly, “then count me in teagues, but if there’s no strawberry frosted i’m leaving.”

there was no strawberry frosted. you dropped into a seat next to melissa, who was happily eating a chocolate frosted donut. she sees your pout and offers you a bite, which you accept with a smile. she wiped a blue sprinkle that managed to land on your cheek, the action is enough to make you smile a bit, warmth spreading through your cheeks.

just when you think the worst part of the morning is over, the tried and true mr. johnson walks into the library.

“anyone drive a beat up sedan?” all the hands in the room rise up. “who drives a silver one?” less hands, but still a good amount. “one with a sticker that says ‘if you see this, thank a teacher’ on the bumper?”

janine pipes up, “oh that’s mine!”

“you’re getting boot on your car, young lady,” he answers, and janine immediately is running out with jacob, gregory, and barbara behind her.

“oh and anyone got a green sedan? little cat bobble head on the dash?” mr. johnson speaks up.

melissa turns to look at you before you say, “don’t tell me it’s being booted.”

“course not,” you sigh in minor relief, “you’re about to get towed.”

you’re immediately running out to your car, melissa hot on your trail. you get outside to see a boot placed on janine’s car and the tow guy is rigging your car to the truck.

“aye, back off the car! what are you doing?” you yell, getting close to the tow operator, eric.

“no parking zone, can you read? it’s for the buses. we’re pulling ya,” he says as he continues his work. you groan in anger, walking closer to the car where he had already hooked it up.

“what fucking buses? school hasn’t started yet,” you counter.

“it’s still a bus zone, and you’re still getting towed,” eric says.

before you start throwing hands with the guy, melissa steps in, “how much to not tow the car?”

he laughs, “you can get it back at the lot, should be two hundred. might be three for wasting my time. you’re not getting it back now, it’s parked illegally.”

you see red when he mentions raising the cost, you couldn’t even afford the original one, “wasting your time? your time?! i’m supposed to be in that building making lesson plans for children who will be here next week, and i’m wasting your time?”

“yeah, you are. now move your ass or i’ll move you,” the man answers angrily.

you bravely taunt him, “try then.”

“sweetheart…” melissa tries to reach for your arm, but you step just out of reach.

barbara and gregory say your name at the same time, both of their tones advising caution. melissa is stuck between wanting to help and letting you just handle it. she wearily watches as you squat down and start undoing clasps and hooks, taking the chains off the car. you’re movements are fast, getting two wheels free from the rigs.

“hey! you can’t be touching that!” eric yells once he hears the disconnect. he stomps over to you and grabs your arm, harshly yanking you away from the car with a tight grip. “stupid little shit,” he mutters.

“touch me again and i’ll break your fingers,” you threaten, and by the look on your face, melissa knows you’re serious. now is when she has to step in, she knows that much.

“twenty bucks says our scrappy-doo over here wins!” ava yells over, holding her phone up, ready to record if you followed through.

“not helping ava!” barbara and melissa shout at the same time.

melissa moves to gently wrap her arms around you from behind, pulling you away from your car and away from the tow guy. when you try to pull away, she tightens her hold, muttering to you to calm down and slow your breathing. you’re irritated, and melissa can feel you shaking against her. she knows you’re using your anger to coverup how much you want to cry.

once the car is all set, the man speaks to melissa only, “here’s the address of where to pick it up. and thanks for keeping your dog,” he pointedly looks at you, “on its leash.”

once he drives off with your car, melissa releases you slowly. your chest rises and drops with every unsteady breath, and you groan loudly. immediately, and without much thought, you repeatedly kick the stone wall around the entrance, even when pain strikes after the first one.

“sweetheart. baby, stop…” melissa grabs you again, “you’re going to hurt yourself.” barbara ushers away everyone else, giving the the redhead space to calm you.

it took a few moments for your breathing to slow, but when it stuttered, melissa turned you in her arms and hugged you tightly. your face instinctively tucked itself away in the junction of her neck and shoulder, your arms firm around her waist. you could feel her arm around your shoulders, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back and she swayed from side to side, in hopes the motion would help you focus your breathing.

“baby?” melissa asks with a hushed tone.

you pull away from her to sniffle but tuck back into her skin before answering, “i can’t afford a cup of coffee. i can’t afford a new coffee maker. i haven’t eaten since we had dinner last night. and this half-wit just stole my car and put it up for ransom, because there was a pool in my parking spot.”

the accumulation of everything from today being said aloud made fresh tears fall from your eyes. melissa held you tighter, whispering soothing words to you even if they fell on deaf ears. after you’ve calmed down again, she coaxes you back so you can see your face. her hands hold your face delicately, thumbs stroking away left behind tears.

“i will hand deliver you coffee every morning until you find a new coffee maker,” she says making you huff through your nose, “and i’ll buy you lunch, maybe make you dinner too, if you want,” she sees you perk up at the offer, “and i’ll stab a hole in the pool.” you laugh for real this time, making melissa smile. these days, she found that making you laugh was her favorite thing to do.

“what abo-” you start, but melissa cuts you off.

“oh, you’re not paying a dime,” you go to tell her not to pay it, but she’s ahead of you. “and neither am i, trust me. i could pull a uncle carlo and get them to give me three hundred bucks, for my time.”

you shake your head, “you bringing the bat or just that cute face?”

melissa cheeks grew rosy at your words, “you were crying five minutes ago and now you’re flirting?” you nod, biting your lip, but still waiting for an answer. she gives in, “the bat will be stay in the car unless they really deserve it. scout’s honor.”

you laugh and press a kiss to her cheek, mumbling against her skin, “thank you.”

she turns her face, pressing her forehead against yours with her eyes closed. she leans in and presses a sound, loving kiss to your lips, then your cheek, then the other, a final one placed on your forehead. she holds your face once more, “you needed me, and i was there. you don’t have to thank me, i love you. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

you kiss her again, very quickly, then say, “i love you, too.”

—

after she bought you lunch, she didn’t drive you straight back to abbott. no, melissa was parked in front of market street towing company. she wordlessly got out of the car, but motioned for you to stay when you went to undo your seatbelt. you just watched her walk away nervously until she disappeared inside.

two songs and one radio ad later, you see your car pulling out of the fenced lot, melissa behind the wheel. you jumped out of the car as she got out of yours, grabbing her tightly.

“oh my god, thank you, thank you, thank you,” you say excitedly, only hearing her laugh a bit.

“no one was harmed, except maybe a couple egos,” she says before pulling back to drop your keys in your hands. “we still on for dinner?”

you grab her chin between your forefinger and thumb, bringing her lips to yours in a slow kiss. when you pull away, you revel in her stunned look, and it’s just too tempting to kiss her again, but she beats you to do. she breaks the kiss for air, and you speak quietly in the small space between you, “dessert, too.”

i hope u like this anon and i hope i did ur vision justice <3 feedback appreciated as always

[babybluebex]

Hi I have a request 🥹

Could you do one on Joe Quinn for when he was doing Off Menu podcast but his girlfriend is vegan or something like that and it gets brought up as he seems to eat everything and doesn’t understand ~picky~ eaters lmao. She’s a podcast person but the hosts are like “but does she listen to our show??” and he texts her during it to find out 🥹❤️

ok technically my requests are closed but this was too cute to pass up

“Aw, yeah, ‘I don’t like that’,” Joe said with a playful sneer. “Eat it.”

Ed and James exploded in laughter, just as they had been all afternoon. The podcast was going swell, the boys having a fun time discussing ideal meals and joking around like old friends, and Joe twisted the ring on his finger, wishing you were there with him. You weren’t in London at that time, having had to go home to deal with some personal matters, and he missed you terribly. He knew that you would be such a blast on the podcast, and he pulled his phone out from its hiding place under his thigh, and he shot off a quick miss you xx.

“My girlfriend does that,” Joe said quickly, and James widened his eyes at him, urging him to speak. “Aw, she drives me mental. She’s a picky eater, and we’ll go somewhere— She’s a mushroom person, won’t touch ‘em.”

“A mushroom person!” Ed exclaimed. “They’re the worst!”

“I try to get her to, like, try it,” Joe said, and the tip of his tongue touched his lips as he considered the last time he had semi-bullied you into trying a mushroom sauce. “And she goes ‘no. Absolutely not.’”

James and Ed both started talking, distressed over your lack of an openness with mushrooms, and Joe added, “She argues that, like, I know what I like, right? And I like a lot, and I’ll try a lot, but she argues that she knows what she likes, and she doesn’t like mushrooms. It drives me— Ah! Up the wall!”

“Is there anything you’ve successfully gotten her to try?” James asked. “Like, how good are your powers of persuasion?”

Joe cleared his throat, feeling his anxiety flow away with every passing second, and he said, “She was hesitant about— It was pistachio ice cream, and I got her to try it, and she hated it. But at least she tried it, so, like—“ His phone buzzed on the table, and he chanced a quick look down at it to see that you were texting him back.

miss u too handsome &lt;3

“Is that her?” James asked. “Does she listen to our podcast?”

“I, um,” Joe began. “I don’t know. She listens to a lot of podcasts, I can ask…” He paused and took his phone back into his hand, and he typed out: do you listen to the off menu podcast?

You answered back quickly: who hosts it?

“She asked who hosts it,” Joe said, and Ed and James winced.

“She doesn’t listen to us, I know it,” Ed said, and James laughed and nodded in agreement.

“Not a clue who we are,” James added.

Joe texted you back— james acaster and ed gamble— and the bubbles appeared as you typed back. “She’s typing,” Joe relayed.

never heard of it. is that the podcast you’re on today?

“She’s never heard of it,” Joe said, clenching his teeth playfully, and Ed and James once again moaned and groaned.

yeah, they were asking if you listen to it.

nope, tell them sorry.

“She said sorry,” Joe relayed, and James chuckled. “But I’m sure she’ll listen to this episode.”

“Especially after you slandered her eating habits,” James said, and Joe widened his eyes as he smiled.

“Oh, she’ll love that,” Joe said as his phone buzzed one last time.

ily handsome man. have fun on the pod xx

[calholic]

idk if you'd be ok w this but tom kaulitz x female reader highschool au?

T. KAULITZ x READER

★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you go to high school with the tom kaulitz

★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, cigarettes, extreme bullying

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: someone had a similar req to this where reader gets bullied so i tried adding some of that into here ❤️ also i feel like i add angst to all my stories 😭 ik i’m making tom sound like a bad guy in these stories which can make people feel that way about him irl (ahem my living nightmare) but plz guys im just doing it for the angst i swear im not a tom anti haha

you’ve know tom and bill since forever, i mean the three of you have been together since elementary school. they were both really different now with tom being a massive player and bill being, well, bill. you guys were now in high school and you would like to say it got easier but it didn’t. you were constantly harassed by tom’s fangirls which was unbearable. obviously you’ve talked to tom about it but he ended up being honored that his fans were so loyal. “stay away from tom, pick me,” you hear a girl say as you walked down the hall. these girls would never say anything to your face, only spew hate from behind your back.

you ignored them all of course but it was still annoying. “your fangirls are at it again,” you said to tom as you sat down in your first hour class. “i’m flattered,” he said half-heartedly, looking down on his phone, texting. tom had been texting a lot lately and you were curious. “who’re you texting? you been at it all week,” you asked. “some girl i met last week while shopping with bill,” he said. “oh,” you replied, looking down at your desk. you’ve had a crush on tom since middle school and hearing about his new love interests really hurt. “i think she might be the one, i’m meeting with her tonight,” he said smiling, totally ignoring your sudden change of emotion.

you were silent for the rest of class and left early, leaving without waiting for tom like you usually did. you went to go confide with bill later at lunch. “ugh it’s just so annoying hearing him talk about other girls,” you said sighing. “why don’t you just confess then?” bill asked. “you don’t get, it’s way more complicated than that. i mean, he doesn’t even like me!” you said. “you never know~,” bill said. “why? did he said something about me?” you asked. “calm down, he didn’t say anything,” bill said, letting your hopes down. “ugh whatever, i’m going to class now,” you said before leaving.

you packed your bags as the dismissal bell rang, you would walk home with bill and tom since you guys lived nearby. you were still a little mad at tom but you wanted to wait for bill. you felt a water bottle lightly tap on your head and you turned around to see tom. “why’re you mad at me? is it because i talked about another girl?” he asked, smirking. “what did bill tell you?” you asked, annoyed that bill would tell tom. “what?” he asked confused. you might’ve just accidentally almost revealed your crush on tom so you quickly came up with a lame excuse. “what? no? of course not, bill told me you stole my bag of chips,” you said defensively.

“oh, yeah i forgot about that,” he said laughing. “hey guys, ready to go?” bill asked as he walked up to the two of you. “yeah, let’s go,” you said. the walk was pretty silent now as you thought of what tom would be doing with that girl tonight. it wasn’t fair that he was having all the fun meeting people and hooking up almost every night. you wanted to experience that fun too so when you got home you called your friend audrey, and asked if she knew anyone throwing a party. “oh yeah! i heard adrian’s hosting one at his dad’s house and i heard that it’s massive too,” she said. “cool! when is it?” you asked. “friday, wanna come over to get ready together?” she asked. “of course!” you replied.

it was late now and you were getting ready for bed before you heard a knock at your window, it was tom. “what do you want?” you asked. “can i come in?” he yelled from below. “whatever,” you said, walking back into your room. he quickly slipped in and laid on your bed. “she ditched me, i can’t believe her! how could you ditch such a hottie like me??” he said. “who wouldn’t?” you asked with a laugh. “what’s your problem?” tom looked at you with a serious expression now. “well let’s see, first your sho up to my house unannounced at 10pm, then you talk about your failed hookup, do i need to say more?” you asked. “you’ve been acting like a bitch lately,” he said. “i’m leaving,”

and with that tom left as quick as he came. you felt a little bad but you knew it needed to be addressed. the next day at school was rough, tom avoided you and the girls were even more relentless now as well. “what did you do to tom?” asked jessica, one of tom’s biggest fan girls. you couldn’t give her the time of day so you walked off.

“i’m not done talking!” she screamed. “i don’t care,” you replied. you weren’t having it and just wanted to go home, you were tired of everything and couldn’t take your mind off tom. you kept walking to your next class until school ended finally. you didn’t even wait for tom or bill and just went home by yourself, you even ran a little to avoid them. bill called you later and asked why you and tom weren’t talking. “some stuff happened last night and i’m honestly so tired of him now,” you explained. “come on now, you guys are like two peas in a pod!” he said. “not anymore,” you replied. you scrolled around and myspace and saw that tom had posted something. it was him at a party, probably from last night after he left your house. he was surrounded by girls which made you even more frustrated.

the party was one day away now and you were deciding your outfit, you were going to go all out. perhaps something slutty? you didn’t know yet, but you did know that you were going to get drunk and hook up. you met up with audrey to discuss friday before school started. “maybe a halter top?” she suggested. “ooh a miniskirt!” you added in. “i think i’ll wear my sequined tank top with a skirt,” she said. “i don’t know what i’m wearing yet,” you said putting your head down. “it’s okay, if you can’t find anything you can wear some of my clothes,” she said. “okay,” you said.

you walked into first hour, dreading it. you didn’t want to see tom, like at all. when you ed in, his desk was surrounded by girls as usual. one them gave you a dirty look as you walked up to your desk. you overheard what they were talking about and tom was telling them about what you said. that bitch, you couldn’t believe he was telling people, and his fangirls at that, your guys’ personal business. you knew you wouldn’t be able to live it down from them so you just put your headphones in and head down. your jaded your head when classed started and you swore you’d as tom smirking at you as the girls started dissipating.

when school ended you began walking before you felt someone grab your shoulder, it was tom and you wondered what he wanted. “we need to talk,” he said. “about what? how you’re telling your stupid fangirls about our business? they’re never going to leave me be now that they know that! but you don’t care do you? because you’re so selfish and only care about which girl you’re going to fuck next right?” you said. you left tom speechless and left before you gave him time to speak. you can’t believe you just let all your anger out on him like that. you tried not to feel bad because he deserved it but you still couldn’t help it. you quickly walked home after that’s hoping to avoid bill as well.

you wanted to drown now and never see anyone again. you took a nap and woke up to missed calls from bill, which you answered. “hello?” you asked. “______ i don’t know what going on with you and tom but it needs to end. you guys are best friends and can’t be on bad terms like this! i care about you two,” he said. “i love you bill but nothing is going to change my mind. anyways, see you at adrian’s?” you asked. “yeah whatever, bye,” he said. you put the phone down and got in the shower. it was late now but you decided to do homework before going to bed. you woke up the next, refreshed and ready, you felt very confident and ready for tonight. you met up with audrey to discuss plans and then went to first hour.

tom was already there and he waved at you, signaling he wanted to talk but you turned around immediately and went to go talk to someone else. school felt like forever but eventually it ended and you met up with audrey to go to her house. “okay, i’ll shower first and the i’ll start on makeup okay?” audrey confirmed. “sure,” you said as you sat down on her bed. soon enough she finished her shower and you got in.

the two of you finished your makeup and it was time to choose outfits. audrey ended up with a halter top and a low rise skirt while you wore a tupe top with the shortest skirt ever. you guys did hair as well and then left. adrian’s house was indeed hug and there were already people there. most were kids from school but others were from different ones too. you immediately saw tom on a couch, sitting next to a girl. you hate to say it but you were jealous, jealous that that girl wasn’t you. you brushed those thoughts away though and headed straight to the drinks you took shot after shot and drink and drink.

after a few minutes you were drunk and decided to mess around. you saw a cute boy and decided to approach him. “hey,” you said, slurring your words a little. he seemed to be i by you to by the look in his eye. “hey beautiful,” he replied. you noticed tom looking and a smile gee on your face. you took the boy into a random room and started making out with him. all of a sudden the lights turned off though and the boy got up. suddenly a bunch of girls appeared basically out of no where and started recording you half naked with their flashlights on.

they were yelling things like slut and whore. you soon recognized them to be tom’s little fangirls and you were so embarrassed. holding back tears, you got up and put your clothes back on but not before one of the girls approached you and started laughing in your face, calling you names. “you really think tom likes you? this is all your fault for breaking his heart,” she said. your tears were flowing now and you couldn’t control them, you tried to get up but one of the girls held you down. you thought it was over as the girls all started laughing and circling you until you heard a familiar voice, yet again it was tom. “what are you guys doing?” he yelled.

he shoved the girls aside and helped you up. you were no even more pissed at him since you knew this was his doing, all the fangirls, all the drama and all the gossip. you pulled your arm away from him and out your clothes on. “why are you mad at me? i get that we fought once but we usually get over it,” he asked. “are you fucking kidding me?” you asked frantically crying now and breathing heavy. “are you asking me this now? i’m mad because this is all your fault, i’m mad because the only reason this happened is because you decided to tell your fan girls our drama and i’m mad because i like you so much that i hate when you’re around other girls!” you shouted. tom was silent, only letting out a small “what?” your face was red from embarrassment and you ran out the door, straight to the exit.

you ran all the way home, as it started raining, your tears blending in. when you got home you went straight to your room, ignoring your mothers worried calls for your name. you took off your wet clothes and laid on your bed. you got a call from tom but ignored it along with calls from your other friends, you knew they all had the same question, “are you okay?” you were tired but lit a cigarette outside, looking at the moon before you dozed off to bed. the weekend passed and you stayed home during all of it. you didn’t want to go out and embarrass yourself more.

the video had now surfaced and everyone and their mothers have seen it. you were a joke now and it was all because of tom. “wake up ______ it’s time for school,” your mom said. “mom, i can’t go, you’ve seen the video right? i’m a joke,” you cried. “you’re only a joke if you let them make you out to be one. if you let them steak you down like this then you’ll never recover,” she said and she was right. even thought you didn’t want to, you got up for school. you walked into school and everyone looked at you, whispering things. you wanted to die.

tom was in first hour, sitting by himself surprisingly. you were halfway into the door before you guys made eye contact. he got up to approach but you instinctively ran away from him to go hug in the bathroom. you skipped all of first hour and hid away in a stall. you went to the rest of your classes as normal but not without being humiliated. you only went back to the bathrooms for lunch, hoping to avoid people. when school ended you were relieved. you ran out the gates and straight home. you didn’t talk to anyone all day and you avoided everyone too. you decided to do homework since you threw your phone away, hoping to avoid everything.

you were studying for hours until you heard talking ay your window. you looked down to see tom but you ignored him. the last thing you’ve antes was to see him.

he wouldn’t budge though and kept knocking. you finally opened it to tell him to go away but he had let himself in already. “______ i-,” he started but you cut him off. “look i know what you’re going to say, but just please forget what happened on friday, okay?” you pleaded. “no, i can’t. i want to say that… i really like you too ______,” you were shocked, not knowing what to do. “i didn’t know how to tell you though, so i coped by sleeping around with girls,” he confessed. “im sorry for what those girls did to you, and i’m sorry for telling them our business,” he apologized but you didn’t know whether to forgive him or not. “why?” you asked. “why what?” he said. “why did you tel them?”

“i dunno, i was jealous i guess,” he said. “oh what?” you asked. “of how good you were doing without me,” he admitted. you laughed at the irony since you weren’t actually doing as great as he thought. “are you serious?” you asked, he was silent. “i’ve been crying myself to bed all night!” you said. “i’m sorry,” tom said as he looked down. “me too i guess. i didn’t mean to say this things that night. i was pissed you were off with another girl,” you admitted. “so you weren’t mad over the chips?” he asked. “no,”

“were you serious about what you said friday night, that you like me?” he asked. “yeah…” you looked away, embarrassed. “your face is red,” he stated. “whatever,” you rolled your eyes and fell back onto your bed with tom following. you two faced each other, staring into each one’s longing eyes. “i love you,” tom whispered before leaning in for a kiss.

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hello! Spreading more asks around for the first kiss prompt!

I'd love to see the prompt - "don't you dare tell anyone about this." "wasn't planning on it." With Crosshair, but the second part being said by the reader possibly with a wink? If that's too specific just the prompt going either way. (The inner Crosshair simp must be fed!)

Love and Wrecker Hugs! ❤️🖤

ahhh!! this was the perfect prompt for Cross and I had a lot of fun writing it! thank you bb!! I fully intended to wait to answer all of these all at once but I'm too excited so, I present:

First Kiss - Crosshair

Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin, folks. Prompt in bold.

Warnings: some angst (because it's Crosshair), a little bit of a toxic relationship but it's fine, mention of my OC Captain Flare, medic!reader, gn!reader, fluff, confessions

Word Count: 1.4k woops

TBB divider by the wonderful @wizardofrozz, other divider by @dystopicjumpsuit

You’ve worked with Clone Force 99 now for nearly a full year, and while you could technically be reassigned at any moment, both Cody and your supervisor, a bitter old bat, assured you that the Republic had bigger fish to fry than the logistics of shuffling one nat-born medic every few campaigns. And so you’ve stayed with the outcasts. They’ve become something akin to family, at least to you. You know most of them feel the same—Wrecker never fails to express his brotherly affection for you, Tech continues to adjust the ship’s thermostat to a temperature that is best suited to you when you’re feeling off, and Hunter’s silent nod and smile tell you all you need to know. 

Crosshair, though, is a tough nut to crack. 

At first, you swore he hated you. Despite the rest of the squad’s assurances that he’d come around, you’d been skeptical. It wasn’t until several months into your assignment, on a mission you really shouldn’t have been on as the team’s medic, when you saved Crosshair from commando droids that something changed. He still snarked you, still flicked his used toothpicks at your face to bother you. But he slowly began to open up to you. He included you in inside jokes, actually listened to your medical advice, and even let you hold his Firepuncher once.

So despite the hospitality and friendliness of the rest of the squad, it’s Crosshair that your heart has chosen to love. You know he cares about you. You just don’t know to what extent. 

Because even though he still maintains an impenetrable wall around himself, he looks after you. On missions and otherwise. When you go out on shore leave as a squad, he glowers at anyone who dares even look in your direction. 

And that’s exactly the situation you find yourself in tonight. Planetside, on Triple Zero, you’d convinced the others to have a night out with you before you shipped back to the warzone in a few days. The missions have been nearly incessant, and you’re all starting to feel the strain. 

Leaning back against the sticky bartop, you survey the crowded dance floor. Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker lounge in one of the coveted corner booths, looking more relaxed than you’ve seen them in a long time, dressed in civvies and nursing the cheap booze served by the 79s management. A smile lifts your lips. They deserve this, just one night off, to remind them what the war is for.

But you came here wanting more than to drink weak, watery beer. Taking a swill, you glance sidelong at Crosshair perched on a barstool next to you. 

He hasn’t left your side since you walked in. Normally, his presence is comforting, especially in unfamiliar settings, on unfamiliar planets, around unfamiliar people. But 79s hosts none of those things. In fact, the way he’s ordained himself your personal shadow is beginning to grate. You know he’s scaring off any of the regs who might otherwise ask you to dance, or offer a drink, or even just a friendly hello. You know he’s hovering to protect you. 

You just don’t understand why.

Sighing, you take another swill of your drink. “Kark, what’s a person gotta do to get a dance around here?” 

Crosshair doesn’t answer, just shifts his toothpick to the other side of his mouth. 

You huff. “Cross, c’mon. I don’t need a babysitter. Go drink with the others. I’ll be fine.” 

“S’not you I’m worried about,” he mutters. “S’them.” He jerks his chin toward the dance floor, gesturing broadly to the gathering of regs. 

“I can handle them,” you say, an edge of ice to your voice. Frustration at his inability to actually say what he means boils below your skin. 

Crosshair, predictably, ignores the bite of your words. “Didn’t say you couldn’t.” 

“Great,” you say, pushing away from the bar, “glad we’re in agreement.” 

Shoving your half-empty bottle into his hands. He looks down at it with a bewildered expression, then up at you, his eyes narrowed into slits. You give him a sarcastic, two-finger salute before dipping into the crowd. 

You find a clone—Flare, you think he says his name is—who is more than willing to dance. His grasp on your body is unfamiliar but respectful. The pair of you sway and grind through several songs (you’re certainly not keeping track, too focused on trying to avoid the impulse to see if Crosshair is watching). When Flare whispers into your ear, his lips brushing your skin, your eyes slide shut, desperately wishing he were someone else.

A moment later, Flare yelps and his arms are ripped from around you. Eyes shooting open, you whip around to find Crosshair, every line of his body radiating anger, his fists clenched at his sides. Kriff. 

“Sorry,” you call to Flare as you grab Crosshair’s bicep and haul him through the crowd to the front door. “What the fuck are you doing!?” 

Scoffing, Cross yanks his arm free, though follows hot on your heels as you emerge into the cool night air. “Could ask you the same thing.” 

“I was dancing,” you say.

This is going to be an argument, you just know it, and you don’t want to subject all these strangers to the impending shitstorm. So you keep walking, leading Crosshair around the corner where it’s quieter. 

“Bantha-shit,” he hisses. His firm grip on your shoulder spins you around. “His hands were all over you.” 

“He wasn’t doing anything I didn’t want,” you say, glaring at him. “Maker, what is your issue? I can’t even have a fun night out without you stepping all over my plans, can I?” 

“No,” he spits. “Not if it means—” He cuts himself off and looks away, jaw clenching and unclenching. His chest heaves with emotion, two high spots of color on his cheeks. 

Something in you softens, anger cooling into confusion. “Not if it means what, Cross?” 

Nostrils flaring with every inhale, he shakes his head minutely, eyes pressing shut. 

You hesitate, but after a moment, you sigh. Reaching up, you gently cup his face to draw him back to you. His eyes flutter open to meet your own. This is the closest you’ve been to him, you realize, in your entire time with the squad. Besides his medical exams, this is the most you’ve touched him, too. The realization sets your heart pounding. 

“Don’t shut me out,” you say. “Please.” 

He studies you for a moment. Across his face flits several emotions, none of them identifiable, and you begin to grow worried that all the progress you’ve made with him is about to be tossed over the ledge of this Coruscanti sidewalk. 

A worry that is dashed as soon as he surges forward and kisses you, one hand cupping the back of your neck to steady you. A sound of surprise squeaks out of you. Then you’re melting against him. Tilting your head, you deepen the kiss, one hand settled over his heart. It beats hard and fast under your palm, nearly in tempo with your own racing pulse. His lips are chapped and rough against yours, but you don’t care, because it’s him, and this is all you’ve needed these past few months. 

When he pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His forehead pressed against yours, his eyes remain screwed shut. He releases a shaky exhale. 

“Cross, I—” 

He kisses you again. “Don’t. Don’t apologize.” 

“How did you—”

“Because I know you,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

Warmth blooms deep in your chest, right where you’ve made space for him in your heart. “Y-Yeah. Alright. But—”

“No,” he grumbles. “You need to know that I- I’m sorry. For being a di’kut. I should have made a move sooner.” 

A soft chuckle spills from you. “Yeah, you should’ve.” 

At last, his warm, amber eyes flutter open to meet yours. Your breaths mingle in the small space between your faces, and the intensity of affection in his gaze nearly makes your knees collapse. Smiling up at him, you catch the barest hint of a smile in return. For a moment, it’s just you and Crosshair in one another’s embrace, the sounds and smells of the side alley of 79s fading away. 

The moment is shattered when he speaks again. “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.” 

Laughing in earnest, you can’t help but shake your head. The others are going to find out about this new development sooner or later, but as you meet his gaze again, you realize he doesn’t mean the kiss. Sobering, you nod. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

You can’t resist winking, though. He rolls his eyes and grumbles, but tucks you against his side all the same to lead you back to the barracks.

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[pablitogavii]

Hii, so I have this idea where the reader and pablo are secretly dating and she is perdis sister so one day she invites her Friends to a pool hang out and the reader was whearing a red little bikini not knowing that Pedri was also inviting his friends over. So when pedris friends see you they start making comments about how good the reader looks in the bikini and other stuff like that , and then Pablo started to get jalouse listening to his friends talk about his girl right in front of him.you can write the rest and in don’t mind if you change anything

Thank you❤️❤️

Best Friend's Little Sister Pt. 3

Pablo's POV

Another week have passed and we still haven't told Pedri that we are together. Whenever I think it's the right moment, something just comes up like trainings, a bad game or event. And I think I'm using all of that as an excuse cause I'm terrified of his reaction.

pedri: pool party at my house tonight. you coming?

I re-read that message over and over again knowing that she will be there..in a swimsuit nevertheless. And I am just supposed not to look at my own girlfriend? Ugh this will be torture!

pablo: yea sure. see ya

A few minutes before leaving the house, I checked Instagram seeing that she posted a new story. I opened it immediately feeling my swim trunks tighten at the sight of her...damn that bikini looked so perfect on her body.

y.n.bebe

ready for the pool party!

Yeah, she was ready alright..but not for the pool party but for mission 'torture your boyfriend when you know he can't react' little minx!

I sighed knowing that I had to take care of my newly acquired problem before leaving so I texted that i will be a few minutes late. Damn in bombon!

Your POV

You've noticed people starting to show up, both your and Pedri's friends but there was no sign of Pablo. Was he going to bail last minute?

"Hey, is Pablo coming?" you ask Pedri who accepted that the tow of you because closer friends since you called the truce not knowing you did a lot more than that ;)

"Yeah, said he is going to be late a few minutes" Pedri answered joining Raphina in the pool and you smirked taking your phone and going into your room to text your man.

amorcito: I'm waiting for you papito..where you at ;)

pablitoo: it's your fault i'm late amor! that bikini!!

amorcito: just for you papi ;)) hurry up!

You smirked proud of yourself before joining the others at the party and soon afterwards Pablo joined as well wearing sunglasses which made him look ahh that much more hot! This won't be easy!

The boys were sitting on their own by the bar while the girls spent their time at the pool chatting about newest gossip that didn't intrigue you much. All you could think about is Pablo shirtless at that bar and then an idea popped into your mind.

This was your party and as every good host, you should ask them if they wanted any drinks. Like his personal little bartender ;)

"Can I get you anything to drink chicos?" you walked to them when Pedri left inside for a moment standing right besides Pablo and placing your hand on his shoulder. He tensed up and you smirked looking around and taking what everyone was saying.

Some wanted another beer, others cocktails but Pablo was staying quiet with his jaw clenched probably too focused on your hand on his body. You were playing with fire but it was so fun!

"And what would you like? Hm?" you turned towards him slowly stroking his shoulder and he gave you a warning look saying another beer would be fine as you gave him a teasing smile.

"Coming right up!" you walked away swaying your hips on purpose just to torture him and it was certainly working.

Pablo's POV

My dick was painfully hard and it didn't help that she was purposefully messing with me with that 'drink order' she pulled a few minutes ago.

"Mierda! She is hot as fuck!" Ansu was first to say it and suddenly all the guys started to talk about her body, her hair, her smile, the things they would do..it made me go crazy!

"I would let her bring me drinks every day.." Ferran added and Pablo wished he can tell him to shut the fuck up right now. He was taken for god's sake!

"Hmm I would let her do more than that.." Balde smirked and everyone but me laughed which made them a bit confused.

You're talking about my girl, cabróns! is what was running through my mind but I could exactly say that, could I?

"You're talking about Pedri's little sister..." was what I said instead and they rolled their eyes saying that rule he made was stupid and wouldn't last. Little did they know that I already broke it..

"Here are your drinks chicos!" she came back and they were all eyeing her up and down obviously imagining what was hiding underneath that little bikini but I cut their show short grabbing her wrist and pulling her inside quickly.

"Ow! That hurts!" she said and my hold relaxed while we went into her room locking the door behind us. I need to control my anger now but it was so damn hard!

"What the hell do you think you are doing!?" I yelled and she raised her eyebrows at my little outburst. Ugh! She was driving me mad!

"I wanted to talk to you!" she spat back angrily while I ran my hand through my hair in frustration. This hiding and sneaking around was driving em insane and I was so sick of it!

"Baby what's wrong with you??" she walked to me placing her hand on my cheek and other one on my abs..I sighed in annoyance.

"They were talking about you amor in front of me..about things they wanted to do to you..to my girl! All because you are wearing that and acting all.." but I stopped myself when I saw that she was starting to get mad as well.

Your POV

I couldn't believe he was acting mad when all I wanted was HIS damn attention! I don't care what other players say or think! I wanted to be with him today because he is the only one I want!

"Acting like what!? I wore this for you cabrón! I wanted only your attention when I asked for drinks! Gosh! I even stood and touched your shoulder!" I was frustrated and he was quiet clenching his jawline repeatedly. This boy was driving me mad!

"But I can't enjoy you properly! Not when we are here and your brother is right outside! I have to sit and listen to everything my friend's want to do to you! I can't even kiss you!" Pablo yelled and you felt your eyes watering knowing that this secret was destroying all beautiful you had.

"Pablo.." you said but he just sighed saying he should go home not really in the mood for the party anymore. You rushed to stand in front of the door to block his exit.

"Please, Pablito don't go..I'm yours.." you snaked your arms around his shoulders playing with small hairs while he closed his eyes enjoying the sensation for a few moment..this was all her wanted since he came to the party..just to be with you!

"But I can't claim you out there..I can't shut them up my grabbing your ass and kissing those sweet lips of yours..I can't do that!" Pablo was mad and you were turned on blushing at his words while looking at his lips.

"But you can do that here papi.." you whisper and he clenched his jaw kissing your lips passionately while spanking your ass squeezing it roughly making you moan into his mouth.

After fifteen minutes of making out on your bed, you were on top of him pulling back and sitting up on his lap while he looked at you with a smirk on his face.

"Mm forget about their stupid comments, because you are the only one I would let do all those things to me..only you" you kissed his jaw to his lips before getting off and fixing your hair up.

Pablo's ego was certainly stroked and he got up as well going behind you and kissing your shoulder before fixing his own hair which you messed up badly during your make-out session.

"You ready to go back amor??" you asked and he pulled you closer again kissing your lips before nodding his head feeling much better.

"You go first..and um I'll wait for you in the pool to join me" you smirked and he did as well pecking your lips one more time before walking out and making sure nobody noticed he just walked out of your room.

Pablo's POV

I was in the good mood again knowing that all they can do is wish for what I have..she was mine!

"There you are hermano, everything good?" Pedri brought me back from my thoughts and I nodded knowing that I had to tell him soon, it was getting stupid to hide it any longer especially when I plan to have her be mine forever.

"Let's grab a beer" I suggested and he hugged my shoulder's walking towards the bar again. Pedri was a good friend, he will understand..right??

We both joined the rest of the guys who wouldn't dare talk those things in front of Pedri and I noticed her walking out as well winking at me while getting into the pool.

"It's hot. I'll go freshen up" I said after a few minutes leaving the boys who were busy talking about next games anyways getting into the pool meeting her gaze.

We were talking to each other and to anyone at distance we looked friendly, but the moment nobody else payed attention we went underneath water kissing passionately.

"We're crazy.." I said when we got up for air and she giggled with her red cheeks and sparkling eyes.

"Crazy in love.." she whispered to me before we both smiled at each other not caring how corny we became..from worst enemies..to biggest love story.

"I'm going to tell him.." I said and she looked at me with raised eyebrows not expecting those words to come out of my mouth so suddenly. But I was determined..I loved this girl..I will fight for her..and I will be honest with my best friend about it.

"Are you sure now is the right moment Pablito?" she asked me but I knew that never will be the right moment. We both left the pool and I sighed walking towards Pedri who was standing by the bar still with a beer in his hand. Here come nothing..

"Hermano..." I said and he turned and so did all the other guys who were standing there.

Oooo what will Pedri say??? Comment!

[kyotakumrau]

2023.11.06 DIR EN GREY at CLUB CITTA

The beginning of the ending as Kaoru said.

The doors opened at 18:00, the start of the show was scheduled for 19:00.

The final sound check started 18:58 so it was certain the show won't start on time xD they were 14 mins late xD

The animated intro A book titled Phalaris opens and for a brief moment we see the text on the first page. Phalaris was always renowned as extremely cruel. (googling the sentence took me to Wikipedia, they actually simply copied the Wikipedia entry about Phalaris xD) In the intro Phalaris is portrayed as a parasite, changing it's forms one by one, from a larvae to an insect to a monster to a dragon to a brass bull, changing its hosts into something evil until they infect the next victims. The parasite growing inside their bodies into something grotesque and transforming them. A set of dice next to the book. Priests and prayers mixed with torture and dying girls, women. Is Phalaris a sickness of cruelty and hatred causing people lose their humanity? The members walked on the stage as the intro footage was shown on the front screen. They played Otogi as the images continued on the screen. The screen went down as Otogi ended.

Die had his fabulous hair and a black jacket with red stains. Shinya wore white shirt with silver decorations. Toshiya had a sparkly jacket with one sleeve only, shorts and long leather boots. Kaoru's hair was silver? grey? He had some kind od painting on his face but from my place I couldn't see properly what was it, like lines over his cheeks and forehead? (apparently he cosplayed Father Pucchi from Jojo😆) Kyo came wearing a black Adidas tracksuit, he removed the jacket a bit later on, staying in a white cotton tank top. He's growing a mustache or a goatee I think? His hair was parted and sleeked back a bit, not so much hair product to make it flat.

The set list was so interesting. The energy went up with the few following songs, then Oboro shifted the mood and finished with the Inward Scream. The sound/musical part of the inward scream was new. Kyo ended it with '壊れて・broken' cried softly. And after a brief pause they continued the set with The World of Mercy. The first line of 誰が知る？本当の私 本当の心 Kyo changed 'kokoro' to '意思・ishi' (intentions).

During Rinkaku's 'Minerva' we got to shout for him as he turned with his arms stretched to the sides.

The following flow with 13, keigaku, different sense and Eddie was so good! Kyo moved around his box to get fans to let go even more and give him more😁

The main set ended with Kyo leaving quickly. Fans were clapping and shouting encore. Btw we had to wear masks for this show but singing and shouting was allowed (so hot with a mask on😂)

Encore started with Increase Blue, very nice as Kyo got us singing and dancing. But when I heard the first notes of NATIONAL MEDIA BOYS I almost cried. I hoped they will do something as a tribute and they did😢❤️ Interestingly a lot of people didn't recognize the song and thought it was a new dir's song😂

TDFF and Rubbish Heap were pure 🔥 Toshiya climbed to the back of the stage so he stood at the bottom of the back screen, showing off his looooong leather boots and shorts.

Finishing with Kamui changed the mood drastically though. The footage matching the style of the intro started on the back screen. Some images of the war they used before but the main theme was different. A girl standing inside the sinking boat, the sea being so angry. Small group of people walking through a desert. A praying jew. A bible. A cross. A closeup of the chest of Christ, a trail of blood and next to it a trail of tears. So much death.

The footage ended with the tour title on the black background.

Kyo left very quickly after the song ended (usual for him, especially at the start of the tour). But Shinya did as well? Did I miss him throwing stuff or he really didn't? Die and Toshiya walked around the stage throwing picks, all smiley. Kaoru stayed the longest having fun spraying fans with water, then throwing those bottles into the crowd. I bet he was in the celebrating mood with Hanshin Tigers winning Japan Series. Before Kaoru left he pointed at the screen in the back to show there will be some announcements, waved and left :)

First we got 19990120 and then the special January tour info. We tried briefly for the second encore but the staff insistingly kept announcing that the performance is over so we clapped one last time and it was over.

[fatuismooches]

hello, it’s 🍊 anon again. firstly, how have you been? i hope you had a good christmas (if you celebrate it, if not, have this alternative: i hope you’ve had a good december) have a happy new year too!

and secondly, to celebrate new year, imagine dottore and fragile darling celebrating the new year

i just imagine that fragile darling has like this silly little calendar that shows how many years they’ve been together as like a funny thing they have.

darling just has x amount (a lot) of boxes filled with calendars that span back agesssss.

i also imagine that dottore isn’t quite big on the idea of celebrating new year, i mean, he already doesn’t have time for a lot of things besides his research so why would he have time to celebrate what is simply another day for him.

perks if fragile darling asks to see fireworks or do something special on new years too!

Dottore is not someone who cares about the passing of many holidays, the day being the same regular thing for him and the segments. Has two specific Harbingers hassled him in an attempt to get him to join the festivities the Tsaritsa hosts? Yes, but even they have not been very successful... if something is not mandatory, then Il Dottore will be staying locked up in his lab. That was before you woke up of course. You liked celebrating things, whether or not you particularly cared about it, it was just fun to share the excitement and fun with others. And during the Akademiya, you'd always stay up late for the clock to hit 12 AM (well, you were probably usually awake at that anyway. Zandik too of course, so you made it a tradition to make kissing him the first thing you did in the new year).

When you wake up, that's not going to change! You probably don't have enough space for four hundred+ calendars... but they are certainly written down in the first calendar you own since awakening. Ah, you definitely have a lot of mushy dates marked down and circled on your calendars. ("Zandy fell asleep in my lap for the first time!" "Omega took his mask off around me for the first time today." "Zandik took me to see the snow.") It's your own little way of making sure you don't forget all the lovely things in your life.

Anyway, the new year is pretty meaningless to him but you seem to like it, well, more than him at least. Snezhnaya isn't the best place for fireworks, considering how hard the blizzards rage there, but the Tsaritsa is known to quell her storms on the last and first day of the year... so with enough pestering, and threatening your husband that you'll go see the fireworks with Columbina instead (and Tsaritsa forbid Pantalone or Childe...) you're allowed to drag him out and view the fireworks at a nice spot near the lab.

It's not what Dottore was planning, and his time could be better spent right now but... you always tend to smile around this time, even if you haven't been before, so it's alright, he thinks. And maybe, just maybe, he thinks about the times he saw the fireworks in Sumeru with you too.

I KNOW I'M RESPONDING FASHIONABLY LATE AS USUAL... (typical smooches moment) BUT I HOPE YOU HAVE A HAPPY NEW YEAR AS WELL 🍊 ANON!! I've been well, thank you, I hope you're doing good as well ❤️

[katrina37973]

Haleth/Caranthir DTIYS hosted by @thelien-art

Above with background, below is without.

I had a lot of fun with this piece, especially the gold ornaments and rubies. Changed some minor details but overall, very happy with how it turned out!