#i already had a huge coffee today but im considering making something else…

[daimonios]

hello. kitchen moment

[yanderecrazysie]

Twisted Zoo: Chapter Six

This is based on the stories of a keeper reader with the octotrio by @ashensgrotto and @merakiui.

Also @twistedcece @cenatour @ursinaw @xiaopleasecomehome @bearshideout @koebishrimpuwu @vash-yuu @help-whatdoimakemyusername @secret-potion @magmdnv @sunshine-for-serotonin @mel-star636 @silkkorchid @thatpersonuouknow @the-ace-reader @pamv11 @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @hrhqueenfox @goseew @luxthestrange @juno-of-wonderland @who-mst @despairingy-obsessed @lanxianschoenheit @ceramic-raven @sirenetheblogger @a13x15a5133p @abcdontbotherme @m0063576 @kimdourden @rammylog @starshiningsirius @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-monochrome-jester and @thisisafish123 wanted to be tagged! Let me know if anyone else wants to be tagged for future chapters. If you no longer want to be tagged, please tell me! (Some of the tags might not have worked, and I’m sorry if so!)

Summary: You’re a brand new zookeeper at The Halfling Zoo- a place where half-animals live in captivity. Your job is simple- feed them and study them. Your main worry is that one of the more dangerous halflings might kill you. 

Unfortunately, that may become the least of your worries.

Previous part: Chapter Five

Next Part: Chapter Seven

WARNINGS: suggestive content

Note: All characters are aged up, since there will be mature themes in future parts.

Also, I can’t promise I’ll finish this. I suck at finishing stories.

Note 2: Sorry for this being so late.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The first place to start was the aquarium. You were a little excited to see Floyd again, considering how friendly he was. If you were going to make a huge discovery, it may just be with the eel halflings.

You walked up to the water and peered down at it. It’s hard to see anything down there. From the surface, you could only see indistinct shapes of rocks and coral. You put your hand in the water and splashed it a little, hoping to get the attention of the creatures down below.

Suddenly, an arm seizes your hand and starts to pull. You lose your balance and tumble forward, falling into the water with a splash. You gasp and swallow salt water, gagging on the taste and, once you surfaced, scrabbling desperately against the concrete walkway that led up to the water’s edge.

You noticed a metal railing on your left, probably meant for divers to get out of the water easily. You began to swim for it but your ankle was grabbed and you were dunked under the water once more.

Once you surfaced, you spun around and were met with Floyd’s mismatched gaze. He giggled and playfully tugged on your ankle again.

“Stop!” you yelled, the sound echoing against the walls. Floyd let go of your ankle and moved backwards, looking like a kicked puppy.

You swam to the railing and pulled yourself out. You pulled your notebook out of your pocket to find it ruined, the paper too waterlogged to use. Thankfully, you used different notepads for each enclosure, so the notes from the days prior were safe, but the three notepads you had brought today were unusable.

“We don’t do that, Floyd,” you said sternly, “I don’t go into the water.”

Floyd blew bubbles in the water, his eyes sad. Suddenly, he disappeared into the water with a large splash that hit your already soaking body. You shivered in the cold air, wishing you had a towel. 

An eel surfaced, and you were about to scold Floyd again, before you realized the halfling was Jade, and not his twin.

“Hello, Jade,” you said wearily.

Jade blinked softly at you, before saying, “I am sorry for Floyd.”

Your heart melted a little, “It’s okay.”

It would be fine. You could just take notes when you got home. Next time, you’d put them in a waterproof container or ziplock bag or something before visiting the aquarium.

Floyd resurfaced, holding something black in his hands. It took you a moment to realize it was a tentacle. Confused, you watched as he dragged a blushing Azul to the surface.

“Brought… octopus… you asked,” Floyd said proudly.

It took you a few moments to put things together. Floyd was trying to make it up to you by bringing you Azul, who you had asked for yesterday.

“Floyd…” you weren’t even sure what to say to the eel. He clearly didn’t have any bad intentions when he pulled you into the water- he probably thought it was a game or something.

You sighed, “It’s okay, Floyd, I forgive you.”

Floyd swam up to the edge of the tank, blinking up at you with his heterochromatic eyes, still holding one of Azul’s tentacles.

Azul looked half-furious, half-mortified, trying in vain to get his tentacle out of Floyd’s grip.

“Floyd, you should let go of Azul,” you said gently. Floyd pouted for a moment, upset that you weren’t proud of him for bringing the octopus halfling to you, but let go of the tentacle. It immediately shot through the water, back to Azul, who began to sink under the water.

“Wait! I wanted to say ‘hi’ to you!”

Azul stopped in his tracks and turned his head to you, disbelief etched on his features. 

“My name’s (Y/n). I’m glad to meet all three of you,” you said, holding out a hand.

The three of them stared at your outstretched hand before Jade swam closer and gently put his clawed, webbed hand in yours and shook. His arm slipped back into the water without a splash. 

Floyd was fascinated by the action and reached up to grab your hand. For a moment, he tightened like he might pull you into the water, but once glance at your panicked face made him click disappointedly and release your hand.

Azul approached almost confidently and diplomatically shook your hand as though you were making a business deal with him. It was such a contrast from his normally-skittish attitude, that you almost forgot to shake back.

Floyd suddenly started to yell “(Y/n)!” over and over again. It was so loud that you covered your ears, the echoes bouncing off the walls as though he were shouting it three times at once.

“Floyd! Calm down!”

Floyd giggled and crooned, “Floyd, Jade, Azul, (Y/n)!” 

“Yes, those are our names,” you said with a tired laugh.

You looked at the clock and cursed. You had to split your time between three exhibits, which meant you had to get out of there now. “Guys, I gotta go.”

Floyd let out a sad wail, throwing himself against the tank wall and sinking down slowly and dramatically. You held back a laugh and waved to the other two halflings.

“I’ll see you all in a few days.”

“Days?!” Floyd wailed.

“Sorry, Floyd. Next time, don’t drown me please.”

Floyd stuck out his tongue and you laughed.

You left the aquarium, shivering when the cool air hit your soaked clothes and skin. Thankfully, there weren’t many guests in this area, but the ones that were around stared at you. You hurried to the reptile house, sighing in relief as the warm air from the heating lamps washed over you.

You opened up the door to the snake tank and stepped inside. “Hey Jamil, Kalim, I’m back!”

A white-haired head shot up out of the bushes, “(Y/n)!”

“Hi, Kalim,” you laughed at his enthusiasm and crouched down as he slithered towards you. He didn’t draw himself to full height, so that he would be only a little taller than your crouched form.

To your surprise, his hands shot out and grabbed the sides of your face. You were stunned into silence as Kalim let out a laugh, “So soft!”

“Kalim!” you weren’t sure how to react, so you gently took both of his hands and pulled them away from your face. He resisted, pressing his palms harder into your cheeks.

“Nooo, soft,” Kalim whined, pouting as if you were trying to take something precious away from him.

“Kalim, you can’t just hold onto my face,” you explained, trying fruitlessly to remove his hands.

“Soft!” Kalim exclaimed, as if that explained everything.

“Kalim, you can’t,” you protested, trying to stay calm, “It’s making me uncomfortable.”

The boa constrictor finally released your face, pouting slightly, “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. You knew he didn’t mean any harm, but you really didn’t like being touched without your permission. You could feel your hands trembling a little from the unwanted contact so you placed them on your lap.

“Where’s Jamil? I’d like to talk to him too,” you asked.

“Right here,” Jamil’s smooth voice answered. You could see his face peering at you from between two bushes. He looked amused and you had a sinking feeling he had been watching the whole thing without offering any assistance. His eyes strayed to your shaking hands and the smile grew a little.

“Jamil is best friend!” Kalim said happily.

The smile on Jamil’s face disappeared immediately. It seemed Kalim’s feelings were a little one-sided and you felt kind of bad for him. Both of them, actually.

Imagine being stuck in a tank with someone who doesn’t like you. Or maybe worse, imagine being stuck in a tank with someone you don’t like.

“Do you mind if I take notes on you both?” you asked, “We can talk too, if you feel like it!”

Kalim lit up like a Christmas tree, “Wanna talk!”

“About what?” you asked happily.

Kalim stared at you blankly. For a moment, you thought he didn’t understand, but then you realized he just didn’t know what to talk about.

“Can you tell me what it’s like to be snake halflings?” you asked, directing you question to include Jamil.

Jamil tilted his head, “We took a deal to live here. I sometimes regret that decision.”

You cringed a little as Kalim laughed happily, “No regrets for me!” He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Jamil was glaring at him.

Jamil slithered closer to you, “If you lived in the wild, having to feed off of rats, wouldn’t you want to move to a place where you are fed like a king?”

“Well, probably,” you admitted, “You wouldn’t have to fight to survive.”

“Exactly. But would you want humans tapping on the glass every day, trying to make you move?”

“No,” you replied, “I wouldn’t.”

“But which is worse?” Jamil asked, “Fighting to see the next day or being a zoo animal?”

“I- I don’t know,” you admitted, “Both have their own cons and pros.”

“‘Cons and pros’?” Jamil asked, confused by the phrase.

“Their own good and bad things,” you explained.

“Ah, yes. Their own good and bad things,” Jamil sighed, “Good and bad.”

Kalim looked back and forth between you two, wearing a confused expression on his face. “I like here,” he said, “Happy here.”

“I’m glad for you, Kalim,” you said, reaching over to ruffle his white hair. His eyes widened at the motion, pupils dilating. His tongue, one that matched a snake’s, but larger, flicked out to taste the air before disappearing into his mouth again.

You were fascinated, “Your tongue- I’ve never seen you do that before.” Normally, snakes were always showing their tongue, using it to scent predators, sense prey, and attract mates. However, neither of the snake halflings showed their tongues until now.

Jamil chuckled and disappeared back into the bushes. Kalim tilted his head at you and smiled, not responding.

“I should probably go see the next halfling,” you said. You couldn’t see the clock, but you knew that you had spent a good chunk of time with them.

Kalim’s tail wrapped around your ankle, but you pried it off of you. He pouted once more, but peacefully watched as you left the tank, promising to be back in a few days.

You walked to the other side of the room, waving at a few guests before slipping through the employee door into the lizard’s tank. “Hey, Idia, I’m back!”

“That’s fine,” came the dreary responding voice. You couldn’t find the source under all the bushes, so you waded carefully through them, making sure not to step on anything blue.

The lizard halfling doesn’t seem to be very friendly. Or, rather, he doesn’t seem very happy.

“Is there anything I can do to cheer you up?” you asked.

“No,” Idia replied.

“What do you like to eat, if not burgers?” you asked the halfling you still could not find.

“In the wild, I ate insects,” he drawled, “So fried grasshoppers would be nice.”

“I’ll put in a good word with your keeper,” you told him, finally spotting electric blue scales in the corner of his tank.

Idia lay on his stomach, head resting on his crossed arms. He looked up at you with a bored expression, “Thanks.”

“It’s no problem,” you said cheerfully, crouching down across from him, “If they don’t change your diet, I’ll try to bring you something.”

Idia’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened, “Y-you would do that? For me?”

“Of course,” you said with a gentle smile. Idia did not return the gesture, but you could tell his features had softened a little.

“I don’t like humans. Or other halflings,” Idia said in his soft, dreary voice.

“I understand,” you replied, “Do you want to be left alone for now?” It would suck if he said “yes”, sure, but you knew you had to take getting close to him in little steps.

Idia was silent for a moment before sighing, “No, you can stay.”

“Do you enjoy being here?” you asked, remembering your conversation with the snakes.

“Yes,” Idia replied immediately.

“Why?”

“I requested my own tank, so I don’t have to interact with anyone else. I get to be alone as long as I want.”

“Introvert, huh?” you laughed.

“What is that? Why are you laughing at me?” Idia sounded hurt, and you rushed to explain.

“No, no, I just meant… introvert means you like being alone at least sometimes,” you said, “I wasn’t laughing at you, I just…”

“Of course you would laugh at me,” Idia said, burying his face in his arms.

“No, it’s okay!” you said frantically, “I would never want to insult you. I’m so sorry.”

Idia peeked at you from under his arms, “Really? You won’t insult me?”

“Of course.”

“I…” Idia sighed softly, “I want to be alone for now. It’s nothing personal. Just… too much for today.”

“Okay,” you said reluctantly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Idia sighed again, watching you as you got up and left the enclosure, feeling like you’d messed up big time.

There were so many things to remember… you really wish Floyd hadn’t destroyed all of your notebooks for the day, because you’d have to write everything down as soon as you got home. You were so upset that you barely realized you had arrived at the next enclosure’s door.

You opened it up and embraced the humid air of the “jungle”. Like before, the two albino tigers stood near the door as though they were guards. This time, Silver was awake and alert, both of them staring at you with stern expressions.

Sebek’s expression softened as he recognized you, but Silver’s remained poker-faced. 

“What are you doing here again? We have already been fed,” Sebek said, suspicion lacing his voice.

“I’m here as a researcher. I was wondering if we could talk,” you said, trying to sound like you weren’t intimidated by the predators in front of you.

Silver’s ears and tail twitched at your words, but Sebek remained stiff.

“Talk about what?” Sebek asked.

“Well, are you enjoying your time here?” you asked, “What made you come here?”

“Young master is fascinated by humans and decided to take the zoo owner’s offer. We decided to follow him.”

“Young master?”

“Malleus.”

The panther with horns, you realized with a start. The amount of respect that they must have for him, choosing to follow him to a zoo halfway across the world, made you a little scared of him. To think there was a halfling here that could use magic… It made you more than a little nervous to know you had to approach him.

“Are you enjoying your time here?” you repeated.

“It is nice,” Silver spoke up, his expression still not changing, “Comfortable. No competition for prey.”

Sebek nodded, “It is better here.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” you were genuinely relieved. Jamil seemed to have his reservations, but everyone else seemed happy enough.

“You want to see Malleus?” Silver asked.

“Young master is not one to be approached so casually!” Sebek roared. You covered your ears, the sound reverberating in your skull.

“Maybe you could escort me. You know, since you and Malleus are so close,” you suggested.

Sebek seemed stunned, “Young master and I? Close?”

“He wouldn’t have let you come if he didn’t care about you, right?” you weren’t sure your logic made sense, but you did want to make the tigers happy.

Silver stood up straighter, but his face was still stern. Maybe he doesn’t show emotion well.

“I would appreciate it if you could bring me to see Malleus and the other panther halfling,” you said.

“Lilia?” Silver said, perking up a little, “Yes, we can see him.”

“Alright, let’s go!” you said cheerfully.

“We can see him,” Silver said again.

You followed his gaze and realized that, once again, the panther with black and pink hair was hanging upside down on the branch above you. You recoiled in surprise, “You- you scared me! Geez…”

Lilia let himself fall to the ground, landing on his feet gracefully, “I’m sorry. Did not mean to scare.”

“It’s okay,” you said, holding a hand to your heart, feeling it pound under your skin. It began to slow as you got over the shock of his sudden appearance.

“Can we all go see Malleus?” you asked him. Somehow you felt safer approaching him with three halflings on your side than if you were alone.

Lilia looked surprised. After a moment, he replied, “Yes. We can.”

The four of you, led by Sebek, walked through the jungle. You finally came across the clearing you had been to earlier, finding the horned panther stretched out on the rock, as if awaiting your arrival.

You waved at him and his eyes widened, as though he didn’t expect it. He sat up, “You approach me without fear, child of man.”

You realized he was right. Although you had been afraid at the thought earlier, now that you stood before him, you had no fear. In fact, you kind of felt fascinated. As if in a daze, you walked up to him and asked, “Can I touch your horns?”

Sebek made a spluttering noise, Silver’s expression finally changed to surprise, and Lilia let out a soft gasp. Malleus’s eyes widened even further before a gentle smile spread across his face.

“Yes, you may touch,” Malleus said softly.

You reached out and touched the right horn, your fingers touching the rigid surface, surprising you with its warmth. Malleus’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a soft sigh, as though pleased by your actions. You wrapped your hand around it, feeling how tough it was and moved your hands down, feeling how it went from slim to thick. 

Malleus let out a moan, jolting under your touch. Time seemed to freeze as he slapped a hand over his mouth in embarrassment. Your face ablaze, you let go of his horn and profusely apologized.

Silver and Sebek were avoiding Malleus and your gaze, looking in opposite directions with blushes on their cheeks. Lilia, on the other hand, let out a giggle.

“I should… um… go back now!” you said, backing away. Malleus nodded, hiding his face from you with one hand.

You, Silver, Sebek, and Lilia began the trek to the enclosure door, Lilia still giggling the whole way. When you got to your destination, you awkwardly waved to them.

“Wait,” Lilia said. You turned around and he continued, “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making him happy,” Lilia said with a closed-eyed smile. 

Cheeks heating up, you managed to mutter out a goodbye before fumbling with the lock and bursting out the door. 

All three pairs of eyes watched as you left the zoo.

[liannyeong]

Crimson (Chapter 3)

Summary: Jaebeom tours Yujin around the mansion, and the start of the wedding preparations.

Word count: 2463

Pairing: Jaebeom X OC

Warning(s): None

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

A/N: Phew! Managed to get this done in time! And it’s a longer chapter too :D Do support my works by buying me a coffee! Follow me on Twitter for updates ~ See you next week! ^^

Jaebeom takes Yujin to the garden first. Standing a few steps away from the garden arch, pink flowers decorating the iron base. The vibrant petals contrast against the surrounding plain green hedges. Jaebeom doesn't bring her into the garden though. Instead, he briefly explains that it's more of a maze instead of an actual garden.

"What's in the middle of the maze then?" Yujin asks, looking beyond the arch. Interestingly, the sun is bright overhead, but the garden pathway is rather dark, and there seems to be a kind of fog clouding it, giving a mysterious aura.

"Oh, nothing much. Just a water fountain, that's all," Jaebeom responds, bringing her attention to the mansion instead. Yujin slightly frowns. Why does the fae seem rather dismissive?

"The mansion has an east wing and a west wing," Jaebeom gestures to the rectangular blocks that emerge from the centre of the mansion. "And there are three floors. The first floor is a common area, where the kitchen and the dining hall are located in the west wing. The east wing is where the servants' quarters are located."

"The second floor is made up of sleeping quarters for the rest of the household. That one, however," Jaebeom points out at the balcony just above the front door to the mansion, "is the ballroom. The third floor is the library in its entirety."

Next, Jaebeom brings her back inside the mansion. They step into the kitchen first, where Chan -- the one who served them earlier -- is focused on cooking a dish. There are two other faes busily moving about in the kitchen. None of them seem to be affected by their presence. Yujin catches the greenish glint in their eyes.

"Does your household employ different elemental faes?" Yujin asks when they exit the kitchen.

"Elemental faes prefer to stick to their own kind. But here, it's different. We don't follow the general notion."

"What about Jinyoung? He's your brother but he's not a Fire fae."

Jaebeom smiles ruefully.  "That's because he's my half-brother."

Yujin expects him to go on, but he doesn't. He leaves the conversation as it is. The next room over is the dining hall, but having been there during breakfast, Jaebeom skips to the servants' quarters.

"This is where the servants stay. If you need anything, you can approach them. Preferably, you should approach me though," Jaebeom murmurs the last sentence to himself but the silence in the house makes it loud and clear to Yujin's ears.

They head up the stairs, to the second floor. Jaebeom shows Yujin the ballroom, pushing open the large wooden door. It's basically empty, the daylight streaming into the room through the glass doors, casting a glow onto the marble-tiled floor. Beyond the doors is the balcony that she saw from the garden arch.

"We shall hold our wedding here," Jaebeom suddenly says, a huge grin on his face. In an instant, Yujin feels her heart drop. The tour has made her temporarily forget the reason she was brought here.

"Well, let's continue on." The fae walks out of the room, Yujin trailing behind.

He goes past the stairs and to the start of the hallway of the west wing, pausing there. "At the very end is where my room is located," Jaebeom states. "If you ever need anything, you can find me there."

Then they go up to the third floor, where the library is. The stairs form a bridge-like structure that splits into two pathways. The library appears taller than the other two floors, thanks to the roof that is shaped like a dome. It is made of entirely glass, allowing for the steady stream of sunlight. With the vast space -- a result of the merging of the two wings into one -- Yujin guesses there could be thousands of books in total: there are aisles of books, and every wall is turned into a bookshelf too!

"All the books in the library are my personal collection," Jaebeom gestures at the aisles. “But you’re more than welcome to read them.”

Yujin stares at Jaebeom, mouth gaping at him. She has always wanted to read new books but never had the chance, considering the financial situation of her family. They only have enough to sustain their survival, rarely anything more to purchase new things. Only once did her father gift her a novel that she has read multiple times throughout the years.

"Thank you, I’d like that a lot," Yujin can’t help but return a smile, genuinely grateful and happy. This seems to please the fae, for he looks at her as if she’s never smiled before.

"Well, uh--" Jaebeom clears his throat, “Come this way.”

Moving past rows of bookshelves, right at the very end, there is an arched glass window, with cushioned seats lined on the windowsill. Looking out, Yujin gets a bird's eye view of the mansion grounds, including the garden maze. She spots a fountain in the center, true to what Jaebeom said.

“It's nice, isn't it?” Jaebeom comments.

Definitely, Yujin thinks to herself.

“Well, that’s all there is in this mansion,” Jaebeom concludes. "I hope you’re more comfortable and familiar here."

“Yes, thank you for showing me around."

“Anything for you,” Jaebeom replies, eyes rather fond. "Ah yes, you’ll be fitted for your dress today, in the late afternoon. Yeri will remind you again."

“I shall leave you to yourself then,” he says, bowing politely and making his way out.

Yujin redirects her attention to the view outside. How advantageous is this, she realizes. Having a view from this angle will allow her to monitor the movements around the mansion.

She might have just arrived here and so far, no one has tried to harm her. Still, she can't get complacent. She can't let her guard down. There's a lot of things she doesn't know, questions that remain unanswered. But it's better she doesn't delve too much into it, she muses. The fae are skilled in deluding people, she reminds herself. It's better that she focuses on finding a way out of this place. She shouldn’t stay here any longer than necessary.

---

Yujin is woken by a shake on her shoulder, her eyes still heavy. She peeks an eye, the sun already casting slanted shadows through the windows. Yeri is standing next to the bed, reminding her of the dress fitting. Yujin quickly freshens herself up before following the servant lady to a guest room situated in the west wing of the mansion.

“Why couldn’t we do the fitting in my own room?” Yujin wonders aloud.

“It’s Master Im’s orders, Lady Shin,” Yeri responds as calm and dignified as usual. Then, she comes a little closer, and whispers, “Master Im doesn’t want anyone near or in your room.” She lets out a small giggle.

Yujin frowns. In an instant, the fae immediately reverts back to her composed self, as if she's done something wrong. Her sudden shift in mood has Yujin letting out a small laugh. Yeri smiles at her sheepishly.

The guestroom is as large as her room in the east wing. Seeing no one else in the room, Yujin decides to take her place at the loveseat. She’s rather thankful to have borrowed a book from the library and brought it along. She was reading it to pass time, but accidentally fell asleep until Yeri came. Basking in the silence of the room, Yujin flips open the book and continues on the page she left off.

She didn’t keep track of the time. She was nose deep into the novel when the door swings open and a commotion follows. Looking up, Yujin sees a male fae entering the room in the longest strides she has ever seen. He stands in the middle of the room, leaning his weight onto one foot. His legs are long, Yujin notices, and his cheekbones are visible beneath his slightly tanned skin. The next thing Yujin notices is the fae’s blue-colored eyes -- a sign that he is a Water fae. Yujin slowly rises to her feet.

“You must be the Shin Yujin,” the fae says with a subtle accent, looking her up and down. Perhaps elemental faes have different cultures and slightly different languages, much like human races.

“I’m Bam, your couturier,” he introduces himself. Before Yujin can even respond, he waves his hand and a mannequin appears in front of him, at the empty space between the guest bed and the loveseat. Bam steps forward, moving his right arm in a fluid motion and a measuring tape slides smoothly down his arm and into his hand. If Yujin had blinked, she might not have even noticed it.

“Measure her, please,” the male instructs and it’s like the measuring tape comes to life. Similar to water, the tape flows from the fae’s hand and slithers its way towards Yujin. It coils around her ankle, then spreads to her hip before covering her entire body like a tight-fit suit. It measures the littlest of details, leaving no skin untouched. Once done, it flows back down to the floor, creeping up to the mannequin. The mannequin morphs to be an exact replica of Yujin’s body.

“Alright, let’s see,” Bam goes. He crosses his arms, fingers underneath his chin, brows furrowed in thought. He tilts his head to the side, humming to himself. Then in the next moment, he suggests, “Perhaps a basic dress?”

Bam snaps his fingers and what appears to be snowflakes starts falling above the mannequin, to reveal a long simple dress. It is plain white, no design apart from the lace on the cap sleeves. The material hugs at the waist and tapers to her thighs, accentuating the Yujin’s curves. The tail fans out at the bottom, forming a smooth circle on the floor.

“What do you think?” the fae asks, glancing at Yujin. She doesn’t even get a chance to form her opinion, let alone open her mouth as Bam waves his hand, shaking his head. “On second thought, never mind. Let’s try another… I think… You’ll go better with an off-shoulder dress.”

Another snap and the basic dress moulds itself into an off-shoulder dress. The sleeves are long and tight to skin. There’s a dip in the middle, towards the cleavage but it’s not too low that it is racy. Around the waist is a rose gold embroidery, and the skirt flows loosely, multiple layers of light chiffon.

“What do you think?” Bam asks again, looking rather proud at his design. This time, Yujin has the time to step forward and feel the material.

The dress is beautiful, Yujin must admit, though she wonders if it suits her.

Just then, Jaebeom barges in, door slamming against the wall, his expression sour. “Bam!” he bellows.

“Oh, hello, Jaebeom,” the Water fae greets. “I think I’m just about done here--”

“How dare you make my bride wait!” Jaebeom raises his voice at the other, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Is this how you treat your clientele? Showing up late?”

Bam cowers. Yujin feels the temperature plummet. Watching the scene warily, she notices the candles around the room dimmed low, almost extinguished.

“I chose you as our couturier and yet, you treat my bride like a fool?”

“I’m sorry, Jaebeom, I had other business to attend to--”

“Excuses!” the Fire fae roars.

“Jaebeom--” Yujin intervenes, though her voice is small. Her own heart pounds in her ears. She definitely doesn’t want to be at the receiving end of Jaebeom’s wrath, but she feels the urge to defend Bam. The Water fae has his head hung low, avoiding any form of eye contact with the other fae. Yujin doesn’t know where she got the courage to move forward, such that she touches Jaebeom’s elbow. “It’s fine. It wasn’t a long wait -- not with a book to keep me company.”

Jaebeom looks over his shoulder. His anger seems to dissipate almost instantly. Out of the corner of her eye, Yujin notices the fires are back to normal. “Are you sure? I can punish him, if you’d like.”

“That won’t be ideal, would it? We need his service for our wedding,” she placates the male.

Jaebeom exhales steadily. Then he turns back to Bam, who is still looking down at his feet. Jaebeom jabs his finger into his chest once more, and spits, “You should be thankful to the mercy of my bride. Else, you’d be dead by now.”

The Fire fae faces Yujin once more, gently tapping her shoulder, a smile on his lips. His hand slides down her arm to hold her hand up between them. “If there’s anything you are displeased with, don’t hesitate to call me.” He brings up the hand higher, pressing his lips to her knuckles. Gently letting her go, Jaebeom turns on his heels and leaves the room. Yujin can’t help but notice how Bam immediately relaxes.

“Thank you for saving my life,” the couturier expresses his gratitude with a slight bow, a relieved expression on his face.

Yujin offers a kind smile. “I don’t think I did anything but you’re welcome.”

“Such amazing ability, you have,” Bam says. “I can’t believe that it’s true.”

Yujin cocks her head to the side. “What is?”

“Well,” Bam starts rather hesitantly. “Jaebeom has always been a hot-headed person, much worse than what you saw earlier. But his temper has mostly died down ever since he moved to this mansion, you see. Occasionally, he does get angry when it comes to important matters. But the fact that he was furious at me for being late and that you calmed him real quick… You really have Jaebeom wrapped around your finger.”

Yujin got reminded of Jinyoung, who said the same words. She shrugs her shoulders. “Maybe he doesn’t like truancy.”

Bam shakes his head. “I’ve known him all my life. And I’ve never seen him like this.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “You must mean a lot to him, considering that he’s protective of you.”

Yujin doubts so. There must be another reason for Jaebeom to behave in such a manner. Even if he is protective of me, it's because he needs me for something. But I wonder what...

“Ah!” Bam’s face suddenly lights up. He whips around and snaps his fingers at the mannequin. The sleeves are gone, and thin straps are added instead. Then, just slightly above the chest, a gold jewelry wraps around the mannequin. Magic flows downward, constructing a long chiffon cape that drapes all the way down, almost touching the floor.

“How do you find this?” Bam presents it to Yujin, his blue eyes gleam with pride.

“It’s-- Majestic.” Yujin finds herself amazed by the elegance it holds.

Bam grins wide. “Perfect for the bride of the Im house.”

[unsettledink]

Gotcha Chapter 6!

(Trying something new and posting the full text here as well as AO3? It feels too long, but I’ve posted longer things here before, Idk.)

Read on AO3

Peter: sorry im on my way!

Peter: iswear im just running late

Peter: i will be there supr fast!!

Peter: sorry!

Quentin stares down at his phone and somehow, manages not to sigh. It’s a full ten minutes past when they were supposed to meet, and he doesn’t even want to be here in the first place.

Quentin: Don’t worry, it’s fine.

Peter: im sosorry

Peter: my alarm got set for tomorroow instead of today

Peter: i dont even know how

Peter: adn i just woke up and i dont even sleep this late like ever

Peter: but i willl bet there soon i promise

Peter: sorry!

Quentin: Really, it’s fine! There’s no hurry.

Quentin: We’re not exactly on a schedule or anything.

Peter: its so rude tho

Peter: for once it wast me losingt rack of time!!

Peter: im still sorry!

Quentin had given himself a little extra time this morning, just to remind himself of all the many, many reasons he is doing this, in this particular way. Had spent that time summoning up every bit of patience he could find to get through this day, because he had a feeling he was going to need it.

It feels like he’s already used half of it.

And of course he won’t be able to comment on Peter’s lateness, not even as a joke.

Peter: im like hafway there already illl just have to chagne and then ill be there!

Peter: seriously i am so sorry

Normally he’d be all for hearing Peter apologize, but it keeps happening every other word, Quentin will lose his mind.

He’s already losing his mind.

Well, he’s not going to just stand here until Peter does show up. He glances around for somewhere to sit; there’s a coffee shop just across the street. Perfect. He’s going to need that.

Quentin: Hey, don’t rush!

Quentin: I’ll just grab a coffee okay?

Quentin: I’ll be over at Kaldi’s, it’s just across the street. Can’t miss it.

Quentin: You want anything?

Peter: you dont haveto!

There’s no stopping the sigh this time. God.

Quentin: Not what I asked, kiddo.

Peter: um

Peter: suure?

Peter: someting with carmel i dont care mych

Peter: ill be there realy soon tho!!

Quentin: Then we can just sit for a bit.

Quentin: You’ll probably need it if you just woke up.

It’s a little funny how… drastically downgraded Peter’s texting is when he’s apparently still half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that he’s in a hurry. Or—

Quentin nearly stops in the middle of the sidewalk. He— surely, Peter isn’t—

Quentin: Are you texting AND webswinging?

Peter: …maybe?

No wonder he goes through phones so fast.

Quentin: You’re going to drop your phone

Peter: hey! imst icky! i wont drop it!

Quentin: Then you’re going to fall from being distracted

Quentin: And I won’t feel sorry for you.

Peter: :(

Quentin: I’ll laugh

Peter: :( :( :(

Quentin: You brought this on yourself.

He spends the time until Peter gets there reviewing Lynn’s newest plans for the miniaturized drones; they actually aren’t too bad.

Of course, they’ve probably had them sitting, waiting, for months, what with how they’ve harped on and on about how this should be a priority.

It won’t do to let them get too full of themselves, so along with the praise he sends back plenty of potential revisions. Even brings up some entirely new bits for them to consider; should keep them busy for a bit.

“Hi!” Peter says, flinging himself down across from Quentin. He’s flushed and still out of breath, his hair sticking up. “I’m here! I’m so sorry!”

Quentin allows himself a slightly amused smile. “Hi,” he says. Pushes Peter’s drink—some sort of ridiculously sweet caramel flavored thing that’s barely coffee at all—across the table to him. “Sit. Drink. Relax a bit, okay?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, running a hand through his hair and only making things worse. “Yeah, okay. I’m sorry, though. I’m just… it’s really embarrassing to be that late when this was my idea in the first place and—”

“Peter,” Quentin says, cutting him off. “Breathe! It’s fine, I promise.”

For once, Peter listens, and takes a deep breath, holding it in for a moment. Lets it out and relaxes the smallest bit, and grabs his drink. “Oh,” he says. “This is good! Thanks; you were right about me needing it.”

Quentin watches while he unwinds; Peter’s latest idea regarding ‘things they could do together’ was to show Quentin around Queens, so today they’re wandering. Quentin’s thrilled.

It could be worse. Peter had been all set up to take him to the most popular, well known, touristy spots, and Quentin had barely been able to hide his dread at the thought. It’d taken a little work, but he’d manage to convince Peter that Quentin would much rather see Peter’s favorite places. Even if they were nothing fancy or exciting, or little hole in the wall type places, or silly.

Even if they bored Quentin to tears.

Not that he can let Peter see even a hint of that. There’s a special kind of… vulnerability in sharing the smallest things you like, something different than exposing the larger, more damaged pieces of yourself. Something oddly hopeful about showing someone the unexplainable, intimate things you like and waiting for them to enjoy those things as well. Or at the very least, not reject them, in a way that suggests they’re rejecting your tastes as well.

Not rejecting you.

He’s started to prove to Peter he can handle the bigger things, the superhero stuff and the feelings nearly suffocating Peter; time to show that he can be trusted with the little things too. That Peter can come to Quentin with anything at all. Anything. Everything.

“So,” Quentin says. “What’s first?”

He was right; it is pretty boring. Not… awful, surprisingly, but not Quentin’s sort of thing at all. Peter’s apparently decided to try and cover as many miles as he can in one day, dragging Quentin from one end of Queens to the other. And then back; Quentin’s going to take tomorrow off for sure. Peter just has so much energy.

Has so much enthusiasm, Quentin thinks, as they poke through a small used record store that isn’t nearly as hipster as he expected from Astoria. So, so much enthusiasm, for the smallest things. It just bursts out of him once he gets comfortable and isn’t second guessing every single word he says.

Once Quentin has seemed interested in the first few things Peter shows him. Peter’s nervous about it, trying to explain away any shortcomings before Quentin’s even gotten in the door. He’s just desperate for approval, for acceptance. For Quentin to like him.

It’s not that hard to, actually.

It’s never been that Quentin dislikes Peter. Sure, Peter’s causing him grief and can be incredibly annoying, and sure, about half of what he feels for Peter is pity, but those can exist alongside the fact that Quentin kind of likes Peter.

Has liked him, ever since he started compiling research on him, ever since he’d met Peter as Mysterio and shook his hand and watched him get so excited over the existence of multiverse. It’s harder not to like Peter, not even a bit. He’s ridiculously smart, and stupidly good-natured, and—

He throws himself into everything he does; goes full out, with his heart on his sleeve. It’s no wonder he gets anxious as hell, if his first impulse is to practically flaunt all his soft spots, open and eager and expecting the best. It’s going to go poorly more often than not.

Must have, judging by the way Peter pulls himself in and hides, overrides that instinctual reaction so quickly it’s just a flash, a glimpse Quentin keeps catching again and again. He’s been taught to second guess himself somewhere along the way, by someone—probably a lot of someones—who saw those tender spots and couldn’t help poking them, taking advantage of them.

Just like Quentin’s doing; Peter should be better about spotting that sort of thing by now.

It’s almost a shame to fix Peter just to tear him apart completely, to have to use him like this, but… well. In the end, Peter’s nothing but another obstacle scattered in Quentin’s path. There are far more important things to worry about than the fate of one kid.

Peter grins at him when Quentin admits that this dinky little secondhand bookstore in Jamaica was worth a stop, even if it’s just for the most comfortable couch Quentin has ever sat on. Smiles when he points out a mural he loves on the way to the next attraction and admits he’d actually webbed up someone who started to tag it.

Straight up laughs at Quentin’s face when Peter shows him the most supremely creepy things in some huge thrift store, full of weird antiques and vintage crap. God, it’s disturbing that the things Quentin had as a kid, even as a teen, are considered vintage now.

“Jesus, Peter,” Quentin says after he has to look at a one hundred percent haunted taxidermied squirrel. “Why would you make me see that? I’m going to have nightmares.”

“For that exact face,” Peter says. “Oh my god, you look like you think it’s going to bite you!”

“It might,” and it’s unfair that Peter just laughs harder. He glares at Peter, but it might be slightly put on.

He’s allowed to like Peter a little, Quentin decides, watching Peter nearly double over with giggles. It’ll make having to deal with him easier, if nothing else, and it’s not as though liking someone has ever stopped him from using them—even disposing of them—in the past. It sure won’t this time.

They wander some more, Peter chattering on and easily filling the silence as long as Quentin remembers to make the appropriate listening noises occasionally. Every now and then, Peter hesitates, a nervous stumble in his words, something throwing him off, and Quentin reengages fully. He can’t afford to let Peter get too caught up in his thoughts.

But a few questions—carefully designed to make Quentin seem far more interested than he is—are enough to get Peter going again, bouncing from place to place until Quentin suggests they could use something to eat.

“Oh my god, yes,” Peter says. “I’m starving and didn’t even realize it. Ooo, last time we were down here, Ned and I found this awesome truck that does crazy good Korean barbeque, you’d love it.”

“No,” Quentin says without thinking, the sweet tart burnt smell so strong he can nearly taste it, can feel it stinging when he draws in a breath.

He twitches, shrugging it off, and tries to walk back how sharp that had come out. “Uh, I’m not big on sweet sauces and meat?” he says. “Got another recommendation?”

Peter drags him to a place that has the weirdest chimichanga combinations—and normal ones too, thankfully—and once again, attempts to pay.

“You know,” Quentin says as he pokes Peter out of the way, immensely irritated that Peter is still pushing him on this. “I didn’t realize your memory was this bad.”

“Hey!” Peter says. “It’s not! What are you talking about?” like that doesn’t prove Quentin’s point exactly.

“I seem to remember a bet I won,” he says, “relating to this exact situation.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest, and then closes it. “Um,” he says.

“Yeah,” Quentin says,raising his eyebrows.

“Okay,” Peter says, “okay, you can’t blame me for trying!”

“Hmmm,” Quentin says, passing over one of the foam trays. “You’re forgiven. This time. Just don’t do it again.” It’s always a good idea to get Peter into the habit of following Quentin’s rules, of remembering not to challenge Quentin too much.

Of remembering that Quentin will forgive him anything, easily.

“Fine,” Peter says through a mouthful, so mature.

They eat on the way to the next stop on Peter’s little tour; Quentin had been hoping they were approaching the end, but when Peter looks at him and asks, so hesitantly, if Quentin is tired and wants to call it a day—

Well he can’t say no.

Quentin finds himself dragged on to little half hidden shops, with any signage and down stairs that Quentin has to ask how Peter could have found in the first place. To statues Peter likes, to places he feeds pigeons—why he’d want to, Quentin doesn’t know—places with great views of the Hudson.

And, over and over, once Quentin catches on and starts pushing it, places to eat. Because Peter’s metabolism is a thing of wonder.

It’s interesting watching Peter banter back and forth with an older man about his sandwich; Quentin had gotten the impression Peter was uneasy around strangers, all his awkwardness amping up. But the way Peter’s interacted with people today is much more relaxed, much easier. Peter has a sharp sense of humor that Quentin has only started to see, as Peter gets comfortable around him.

Why do all these strangers get it right off the bat?

He watches Peter dart over to help get a stroller over a curb and— they’re not strangers. Not really. It’s not just that everywhere they’ve gone is somewhere Peter has been again and again, to the point where he knows people.

This is Peter’s home ground. His comfort zone, and the people in it— they’re his people. And when he’s helping them, his nerves disappear. His awkwardness becomes a tool of its own, disarming, downplaying the threat Peter could so easily be.

This is what he wants to be when he’s Spider-Man; the guy on the street, helping in a hundred tiny ways.

That’s fine with Quentin. Perfectly fine; now how does he get Peter to stay there, with EDITH looming over his head?

He can practically hear that in William’s voice, ugh. He’s working on it.

They wind up in Kissena late in the afternoon, almost early evening, really. Peter steps off the path once they get into one of the more wooded areas, and there’s a grassy spot past a few bushes, with a truly massive tree near the center, smaller ones scattered around it. It’s well hidden.

“Alright,” Quentin says, as he has with every other place, “what's the story behind this? How’d you find it?”

“So, when I got bit, when everything changed?” Peter settles down at the base of the tree, cross legged. “One of the things that was like, a huge pain, was how all of my senses got crazy amplified. Everything was turned up to eleven, you know?”

Quentin sits across from Peter, stretching his legs out as he leans back. Ugh, grass; he’d better not end up with bug bites. “Okay,” he says. “Sounds like that was pretty overwhelming.”

Peter groans. “You have no idea! It was really hard for a while, because even once I started to get used to everything being too loud and too bright and too smelly and— things tasted weird and my clothes made me feel like my skin was crawling and it was—” He stops, tipping his head back against the tree and looking upward.

“It was a lot,” he says. “Eventually I sorta started being able to deal with all that sort of… feeling stuff? I mean, physical, sensory, not like feeling feelings.”

Coherent; Quentin does not roll eyes through sheer force of will.

“But I was still really struggling with the, um,” Peter frowns, tips his head back further until Quentin can’t really see his face. “The stuff in my head. Actually doing things, thinking about things or even focusing on one thing was all so hard. It was like…”

“It was like what?” Quentin asks, after a few moments have passed.

“Everything was a distraction,” Peter says, slowly. “That’s still not right, because normally, before, I’d get distracted thinking about something else I wanted to do, or I’d be daydreaming, or, um, just, good stuff? Stuff that I’d want to focus on, just not right that second.”

“This wasn’t like this.” Peter looks down and starts to fiddle with a bit of grass, pulling up blades one by one. “This was like so much noise inside my head, like every little detail about every single thing was right there, grabbing my attention. I’d be trying to do one thing and all that would be clamoring at me nonstop.”

He closes his eyes, scrunching his whole face up. “People talk about wanting super sense a lot,” he says, “but it sucked so much at first.”

“People generally don’t think through those kinds of wishes very much,” Quentin says. Honestly, for the most part people don’t think at all.

“I’m pretty much okay now,” Peter says. “I figured out how to filter things most of the time; when there’s a bunch of stuff at once I can get so caught up in trying to ignore it that I ignore everything, and then that’s it’s own problem.”

“I noticed,” Quentin says, dryly. “Makes you pretty jumpy.”

Peter huffs, almost a laugh. “Yeah,” he says, brushing the ripped up grass off his pants. “I’m still working on getting the kinds of focus right?”

Quentin leans further back on his hands, crossing his legs. “You said something about focusing on me that one time,” he says, and Peter goes faintly pink. “That the sort of thing you’re talking about?”

“Something like that,” Peter says. “If I have one thing I can focus on, almost completely, then I can make it into… uh, white noise, I guess? Or it makes everything else into white noise. If that makes any sense at all.”

Not one bit, but whatever. He can press that later. “Sure,” Quentin says, waving his hand. “I’m following.”

It’s actually something to consider— if Peter manages to function better in difficult situations by focusing on one specific thing, what happens when that thing is taken away? Is ripped away from him, in fact. Would there be a moment of disorientation they could take advantage of? Maybe they could set Peter up to focus on what they want; he’s already using Quentin as a focal point, apparently.

He’ll have to watch Peter, Quentin thinks. This fumbling little explanation leaves a lot to be desired, but he doesn’t have much faith Peter actually could explain it better even if he tried.

“That helps,” Peter’s saying, “but it’s still really exhausting after a while. Sometimes I want to just… stop. Just not feel it at all, not have to try not to feel it.”

He glances at Quentin, and Quentin nods. Peter looks oddly shy, so he’d better pay close attention to what he’s showing.

“I’ve found a couple of places like this, but this is probably my favorite,” Peter tells him. “I can come here and actually relax. If I stop trying to block things out, or stop focusing on one thing, it doesn’t matter.” He tips his head back again, looking up at the tree.

“It's quiet here, pretty much all the time,” Peter says; the light through the leaves is diffuse, dappled on his face. “Even the noises that I get are like, soft things. Leaves and wind and things walking on grass. People talking, yeah, but that’s more distant and almost like background noise. It’s still shadowy in here when it’s super bright out, and there aren’t any super gross strong smells either. Just dirt and water and uh, green stuff.”

He darts a glance down at Quentin without moving his head. “Don’t laugh at me!” he says, and it’s right on the edge of plaintive. “I don’t know what else to call it.”

“I’m not,” Quentin says. He understands; it’s not something a city kid would be around that often, would probably even notice without senses like Peter’s. “I wouldn’t. I know what you mean, Peter.”

“Okay,” Peter says. Looks back away from Quentin and then closes his eyes. “It’s nice. And when I have to go back to the real world, it’s not quite as hard to handle.”

Quentin watches him. Watches as he slowly, slowly unwinds. Peter doesn’t move, aside from his head tipping slightly to the side, and Quentin—

He’d thought, earlier, that it was interesting how much Peter loosened up around people he felt comfortable with, places he felt safe. He’d thought it was a large degree of relaxation—and it was—but it was nothing compared to this.

Nothing compared to the way the tension drains from him with each passing second, from every single bit of his body, until he looks calmer than Quentin has ever seen.

Happier.

If this is how he looks when truly relaxed, the level of stress Peter must carry with him every day, everywhere he goes—from the physical tension to the mental, the anxiety, the constant background level of effort that other people don’t have to think about—must be ridiculously high.

He doesn’t want to say anything, do anything, that would break the stillness that seems to have spread over the entire glade. Poor kid. He might be doing a great job at being a pain in Quentin’s ass, but he isn’t cut out for this superhero shit.

Everything Quentin sees just convinced him further that taking EDITH from Peter really is doing him a favor. He’d never intended for that to be true, but— it’s not a terrible byproduct.

Peter sighs eventually, a barely there breath of a thing, opening his eyes halfway. He looks dazed, almost half asleep.

At least, until he notices that Quentin is watching him, and then he flushes. Looks down, the moment dissipating. “Anyway,” Peter says. “It’s— it’s a nice place for me,” like he’s admitting something embarrassing.

“I can tell,” Quentin says, offering him a small smile. “You deal with a lot every day, don’t you.” He shifts against his tree, trying to get more comfortable without Peter noticing and getting all fussy about it.

“I guess,” Peter says.

He picks up a leaf, twirling it through his fingers absently. “It’s getting really frustrating,” he adds. “Because it’s been almost two years, right? So I should have a better handle on this! I shouldn’t still be getting tripped up by such little things. And—” he makes a face, shoulders starting to hunch again.

“So I have this… this sense? Uh, I call it a spidey sense— I know, it’s kind of stupid. It sort of warns me about things? Like someone poking me, or shouting that something bad is about to happen.”

“Mmm, you mentioned that once,” Quentin says. “Sort of like a limited precog?” Honestly, he’d dismissed it— not fully, it wouldn’t do to completely dismiss anything about Peter. But it hadn’t seemed like it did much for Peter in Europe.

And it hadn’t picked up anything about Quentin, so how good could it really be?

“Oh, huh,” Peter says. “I hadn’t really thought of it like that? Maybe, but it’s not very exact. Sometimes it’s super obvious, but others it takes me a while to figure out what’s wrong. And lately, especially, it’s been— it’s gone kinda nuts? I don’t feel like I can trust it anymore.”

“Like, like right now?” he adds. “Right now it’s just going off like something really big and bad is happening, but come on!” He throws his hands up, exaggerated. “We’re just sitting here talking! Nothing, literally nothing bad is happening. It’s freaking out for no reason.”

Fuck.

Maybe he really shouldn’t have dismissed it, Quentin thinks, trying to stay as relaxed as he was a moment ago. Maybe he really fucking shouldn’t have, because some part of Peter knows that Quentin’s not good news. Knows that Quentin is something dangerous, is a threat.

And apparently knows it very, very insistently. Oh, fuck, this is the last thing he needs. Why now? Why is Peter’s sense losing its shit now and not at any time in Europe? What has he done differently to set it off?

God, what if it had been going off then too? Could that be why Peter had backed off at the last second in the bar, EDITH almost in Quentin’s hand? Has Peter been feeling this the entire time?

It’s a good thing he doesn’t seem to be listening to it, but that could stop at any second. At any time, Peter could decide that maybe his stupid ‘spider sense’ isn’t wrong, and that would be— that would be bad. That would be so bad.

Quentin has got to figure out how to make sure Peter keeps dismissing what it’s telling him.

“It’s so annoying,” Peter’s saying. “I wish it would stop, would just shut up already. It’s like this constant thing lately, sort of fading in and out but almost always there, but not a single thing has happened!”

Oh, that’s really, really not great. Almost always? In and out? How long will it take before Peter starts to realize it’s linked to Quentin?

No. No, he can fix this. He can nip this in the bud, before Peter has even a hint of suspicion. Peter’s already trying to ignore it, already annoyed by it. Quentin can use that.

“Maybe it’s just confused?” Quentin brings one knee up and rests his elbow on it, letting his arm dangle oh so casually. “After all,” he adds, “I’m hardly a bad thing, am I?”

Peter smiles, all that irritation gone in a second. “No!” he says. “Of course not! You’re like, the least bad thing that’s happened in a while.”

Quentin grins back at him. Yeah, keep thinking that, kid. “Well that’s a relief!” he says. “How finely tuned is this thing anyway? Could something have… I don’t know, damaged it? Hmm, screwed up its baseline, maybe? How do you even recalibrate it?”

“I have no clue,” Peter says. “I mean, it’s not like I can’t really test it or fix it or whatever. It’s practically useless now.”

Perfect; he wants Peter distrusting this sense. Wants him not thinking about it at all, avoiding the topic entirely— ah.

If he can get Peter thinking his damaged sense has something to do with the fights he’s been in, these bigger battles, that would be ideal. Peter’s already trying hard not to think about those; tie this sense to them as well, and he’ll just have even more reason to avoid both

“Could something have overloaded it?” Quentin asks. “Just completely swamped it, and it hasn’t recovered yet? If it got used to there being danger nonstop, on all sides, maybe it can’t stand down.”

“…maybe?” Peter says. “But I don’t know what would have caused that, or even when. It doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

What.

Really, Quentin thinks, really? Peter can’t think of anything that would fit? Why wouldn’t he think of that? “Nothing?” he says, quietly.

Peter frowns. Takes a moment, and when he opens his mouth, Quentin is almost sure he’s made the connection; but Peter hesitates. Shrugs. “Not anything that’s like, major or a big deal or anything,” he says.

Does Peter— has he really managed to convince himself that all the fighting he’s done is nothing? Or at least, been trying to, because that hesitation says a lot.

He should have expected this, with the way Peter’s consistently downplayed himself so far. He really should have, but somehow it still annoys him. No wonder Peter isn’t willing to admit how scared and screwed up he is, if he thinks he’s completely overreacting to ‘no big deal’.

“Well,” Quentin says, and he’s watching Peter carefully. He doesn’t know quite how this will hit. “You were at war, on a battlefield. More than once, even. That can really mess you up in all kinds of ways.” Remember, Peter, he thinks. Remember that you were hurt, that there’s a good reason to be scared. To run.

“I— that—” Peter stares at him. “I wasn’t in a war,” he says. Dammit. Looks like downgrading it in his head is exactly what Peter’s been doing, and that is exactly the opposite of what Quentin wants.

“No? What would you call it?” Quentin asks, raising an eyebrow. He pushes himself more upright, uncrossing his legs. “It sounded a lot like war to me.”

Peter shakes his head, fingers crushing the leaf he’s been playing with. “It was just a fight,” he says, strained. “That’s all!”

A fight. Just a fight, like it was nothing more than a little spat, was nothing at all. Has someone been telling him this, reinforcing it? Fury, maybe, or even Tony before that?

He knows Fury wants Peter to think he can handle things, but has he also been trying to convince him that what he’s been through so far was small enough Peter should have been able to handle it? Should be able to handle the aftereffects? That he shouldn’t be upset about it, that he’s overreacting?

That’s not good; Quentin doesn’t need Peter doubting he can handle things. He needs Peter to be certain he can’t, and more, that it’s perfectly normal. Acceptable. Not something horribly selfish at all.

“Peter,” he says, “it wasn’t just a fight.”

“It was! It was just one— it wasn’t a war!”

“It wasn’t— Peter,” Quentin says, and sighs. “It was a lot more than that. You’ve been dragged from fight to fight to fight the past couple of years, without anyone helping you after; from what I hear, you really could have used some after that thing upstate.”

He huffs, too sharp to be a real laugh. “And that’s just what I know of,” he adds. “I’m not stupid enough to assume that’s everything.”

Peter sucks in a sharp breath, his hands fisted on his thighs. Blinks, and then looks at Quentin intently, his brow furrowed. “How do you even know about that? About— about other fights?”

“I spent some time talking with Fury,” Quentin says. “He wasn’t big on details, but I got enough that I can fill them in on my own. I’m willing to bet he doesn’t even know every fight you’ve been in, though I’m sure he’d like me to think so.”

He’d been talking with Janice, more like. God, she’d been such a find; seething about having had Tony himself be an ass to her, more than once, but willing to stay where she was to pass things on. She’d had access to so much confidential information, and every time SI and SHIELD decided to bury another thing, shift the blame and throw money at it until it all went away—for them, at least—she’d gotten a little more resentful.

It’s true that they might not have the finer details—it drives him nuts how sparse the info about whatever it was that crashed SI’s plane into the beach is—but he has enough to know that Peter’s been involved time and time again.

“Oh,” Peter says, looking down, losing some of his ire. “You probably didn’t hear much good, I bet. But— it doesn’t matter if it was more than one fight, cause they were all different. All like, spread out and about other stuff. It’s still not war.”

“What do you think war is, then?” Quentin asks, actually curious.

“I don’t, uh. War is… more?” Peter stumbles along, and he’s being incredibly stubborn about this. “More than that, than any of those. Worse. Way worse. You don’t— you weren’t there, you don’t know what it was really like. It wasn’t like that.”

“I think,” Quentin says dryly, “I have a pretty good idea of what war is.”

Peter looks absolutely horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says. “God, I didn’t mean— I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I just, just meant that you were in a war. In a real, horrible, endless one and this…” He shudders. “These were just fights. It’s not the same, it’s not anywhere near as bad.”

“I’m so sorry,” Peter says. Looks at Quentin and then drops his head into his hands, knees coming up as he curls in on himself. “Fuck, I’m so sorry Quentin, I didn’t mean…”

This is really not what he was going for. Shit, he shouldn’t have said it like that; Peter’s too sensitive for him to be even a little sharp.

Quentin sighs, very softly, though he’s sure Peter still catches it. Pushes himself up onto his feet and walks over to Peter, who doesn’t even look up. “I know you didn’t mean it like that,” Quentin says. “It’s okay, Peter.”

Peter just shakes his head a little; Quentin thinks of sighing again but—somehow—manages to restrain himself. He sits down next to Peter, his back against the tree.

“War doesn’t have to go for a long time to be real,” he says, not looking at Peter. “It doesn’t have to drag on and on for it to still be awful, for it to still affect you,” and Jesus, he’s had to hear shit along those lines so many times. Had to sit there and listen to people be told over and over that what happened to them is worth being fucked up over.

Even if it isn’t. There’s a lot of reasons he never opened his mouth at those meetings, and his disgust at everyone else was the biggest. What a waste of time.

Well. Maybe not. It did give him the material to work Peter over.

“It doesn’t have to be some huge, dramatic battle to qualify,” Quentin says. “It still counts. Pretending it doesn’t doesn’t get it out of your head.” Come on, he thinks, let it be bad, be a nightmare. Admit that there’s a good reason, a real reason, for you to be scared, and then you can back down without shame. Come on, Peter.

“It doesn’t feel like it should count,” Peter says, a bit muffled, head still in his hands. “It wasn’t— lots of people have dealt with so much worse. Something like this, it’s not— it’s not an excuse for, for…”

He doesn’t finish that thought, but Quentin doesn’t need him to. An excuse, hmm? He turns his head toward Peter, just a bit. “Why don’t you want to call it a war?”

Peter lifts his head, arms sliding down to cross across his chest. “Why does it matter to you what I call it?” he asks, and there’s a hint of sharpness in there. Maybe even anger. “Why do you even care if I admit— if I think it’s a war?”

Nice little slip there; isn’t that interesting. Peter does know it was more than a few little fights. He knows, he’s just trying as hard as he can to pretend otherwise. Trying to redirect, as usual, turning the question back on Quentin. Why does it matter, Peter wants to know, and there are so many answers Quentin could give.

It matters because you need to see yourself as badly damaged. Because you need to acknowledge that this is something huge and overwhelming and frightening. Because I need you to start accepting what I say as right, start accepting me as an authority. I need you to not question me.

So many reasons, and he can’t tell Peter any of them. Ugh.

He turns further toward Peter. “Because I think you’re doing yourself a disservice,” Quentin says, tightly, irritation rising up in him. “When you sit there and insist that it’s nothing more than a little fight, when you play it off like it’s nothing— you’re devaluing what you did, and that’s wrong.”

“Don’t act like what you went through, what you did, doesn’t count,” Quentin says, and Peter’s looking over at him, startled. “That it wasn’t brave as hell, and terrifying as hell too.”

Peter stares, his eyes very wide. “I— it’s not like I did more than anyone else there. Than, than anyone else would have.”

“It sounds like you did more than enough,” Quentin says. “And— it doesn’t matter, Peter. It still messes you up. War fucks everyone up. Maybe it didn’t go on long enough for it to really warp your thinking, your morals or empathy or capacity to even feel, but that doesn’t mean it didn’t damage you.”

Peter jerks, sitting up straighter. “I’m not damaged!”

For fuck’s sake.

Quentin has to dig deep for a bit more patience. “Sure you are. Hey, Peter— wait,” he says, watching as Peter shuts down all over again, hurt. “That’s not bad, kid. It’s not an insult. It’s just… you gotta admit that before you can get better.”

Or not, if Quentin gets his way; admitting it might lead to Peter actually getting over his fear and stepping up. But with Quentin around, guiding him along? Peter’s never going to take that admission as anything other than a personal failure.

As just another reason he can’t, and someone else should.

“I don’t know,” Peter mutters. “It doesn’t feel like it should count.”

Quentin watches him for a minute. Leans in, his shoulder bumping against Peter’s. “You’d agree that I’ve been in war, right?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“And that I’m able to judge what is and isn’t war. Right?”

Peter can be smart, sometimes. He sees where this is going. Sighs. “Yeah,” he says.

“Will you—” Quentin pauses, waits until Peter is looking at him. “Can you trust me here, and believe that I mean it when I say what you went through was war?”

Peter blinks, his eyes dropping. He’s silent, and Quentin can feel the muscles of his arm moving as Peter fiddles with something out of sight. “I’ll think about it,” Peter says, which is not quite the response Quentin was hoping for. Still, it’s not another denial. Baby steps.

“I’ll— maybe,” Peter says. “I guess you would know, even if you weren’t there.”

“You should listen to me,” Quentin agrees, leaning a little harder against Peter. “I do know!”

You should listen to me, and only me, he thinks. We’ll get you there, kid.

Peter huffs softly, pushing back against Quentin’s shoulder. “Maybe,” but he’s smiling faintly.

Quentin smiles back; he can accept a maybe, for now.

He’ll get a yes soon enough.

[mikmikisnotcrack]

Music Box || Im Jaebum

Fantasy AU: Ghost! Jaebum

▪▪▪

• Your grandmother was a lil weird

• When you were a kid, she always told you weird stuff. A lot of them revolved around one thing though, and that was witchery

• You thought it was really cool that your grandmother told you this witchery stuff, but eventually your parents told you that it was all just fictional.

• It ruined your childhood, but hey, you still thought your grandmother was cool

• But when you grew up, she became weaker and eventually passed away.

• You were absolutely devastated. I mean, who wouldn't? You had a cool grandma who always told you witchy stories and who was by your side whenever you had problems in your life.

• Before she passed though, she had given you a carousel music box that you were told has been around for ages.

• You kept it on your bedside drawer so that you wouldn't feel alone.

• Whenever you stressed about exams, deadlines, your best friend Jackson or work, you always turned to the music box for comfort.

• Though, when you thought it made you feel like you weren't alone

• You didn't think it would actually make you feel less lonely

• Because you sWeAr tO gOd you feel a presence around you ever since you brought the music box into your apartment.

• It could just be you being paranoid because it was your first time being away from your family home

• But legit it felt like someone else was in the room

• You wanted to consider putting it back in your old room back at home, but it has stuck with you for too damn long to NOT be by your side. Besides, it was from your witchy grandma, why would you keep it away from you?

• One night, you were incredibly stressed. Finals were coming up in multiple subjects of yours and it was really hard to balance that with your part time job as a barista.

• On top of that, some professors were so helpful in lessening your stress by giving some paper works due! How fun.

• The night was full of your constant groans of frustration and the sound of paper crumpling.

• It was 2:30 am you wanted to drop the fuck out right there and then as you slammed your head down on the multiple papers scattered on your desk.

• The frustration from the past few days that you bottled up was finally bursting, and now here you were, crying on the bond papers that have been on your desk.

• Until you heard it

• Your music box was fucking playing

• Your head snapped over to your desk where you saw the music box playing. The little gold horses were spinning.

• This shit was something straight out of a horror movie.

• The moment your head left the papers, they all went flying off your desk. You didn't even know how to react because all the windows were closed and your fan wasnt open. You're haunted fOR S U R E

• "You know, you should really take it easy on yourself"

• You whipped your head around but nobody was there.

• Nope nope nope nope

• You pushed away all the papers that remained on your desk, shut your laptop, shut your textbooks, and went straight to your bed, covering yourself with the duvet.

• The music box will not stop playing!!

• You inhaled sharply before you were met face to face with a boy with dark hair and eyes to match.

• You wanted to scream, but you didn't know where your voice fucking went

• "You know, it's really bad to pent up your frustration like that. You should relax"

• "P-Pardon???"

• "You heard me"

• Your eyes were wide as dinner plates. This guy was definately not here when you entered the aprtment

• And this guy was definately not a normal human being!!!

• "Ohhh shit I forgot that humans aren't used to this thing... sorry"

• No shit humans arent used to that thing!! It's not everyday your dead grandma's music box plays in the middle of three am and a ghost throws off your damn paperwork!!!

• "You know what, my stress levels are sky rocketting right now! I'm seeing things!! I should really go to bed!!"

• And with that, you turned to face the opposite way from ghost boy and put the duvet up to your nose.

• Before you completely fell asleep, you heard your papers being fixed and the lamp on your desk turning off.

• "Good night (Y/n)"

• The next morning you woke up a little more refreshed than normal.

• It was a friday, which meant that your classes started a little later than usual.

• You brushed your hair and went to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

• After doing your morning routine and picking out your clothes, you went to the kitchen to make breakfast.

• Except, it was already made for you.

• There in the kitchen, was ghost boy placing the sunny side up egg on the freshly cooked bibimbap

• "Oh, you're awake"

• Proceeds to pour you a cup of coffee in a shameless "stressed, depressed, kpop obsessed" mug

• "Uhhh, y e a h"

• "You should eat up, your finals will be coming up today and you need nutrients to keep your head functioning"

• Places the mug on the bar counter.

• "Well? What are you waiting for? Eat up"

• You reluctantly take a seat on your favorite bar stool and dig into the bibimbap. It was surprisingly reslly good! It tasted exactly...

• "The way your grandma used to make it?"

• "Excuse me???"

• "Oh! Im not a mind reader or anything, it's just that a huge wave of nostalgia just appeared on your face and I just thought that you thought... Yeah, I'm just gonna stop right there"

• You took a sip on the coffee he had made and realised it was exactly how you make it! With a huge amount of creamer and sugar.

• You watched as he leaned on the bar counter and eyed you down.

• "How are you doing that?" You ask

• "Doing what?"

• "You're definately not human, because I know for a fact that I do not have a roommate and you appeared out of no where... Yet here you are, you just cooked breakfast for me AND scared the shit out of me last night"

• "Oohhhh fuck um... Sorry about that. I'm Jaebum by the way"

• You squinted at him as you proceeded to drink your hella good coffee.

• He pulled at the collar of his black hoodie nervously as you eyed him down

• "ANYWAYS! Ghosts that have been around for some time become more powerful, and we learn how to lift objects and do normal mundane shit. Though, not exactly as mundane because we're still technically spirits with no bodies"

• "Interesting..."

• Once you finished your food, he took it from the counter and placed it in the sink while you made your way back to the room.

• You were about to pack your notebooks, but you realised that Jaebum had done it for you.

• Wow, a very helpful ghost!

• "I guess I'll talk to you later???" You say before exiting your apartment.

• "Lmao as if you have a choice on not talking to me"

• Son of a--

• And with that, you leave!

• After another eventful day, you come back home to find Jaebum on the couch eating the honey butter chips that you stored away in your shelf while he watched Strong Woman Do Bong Soon on netflix.

• "Yah, those are my chips!"

• "Woops"

• It was a weekend tomorrow, so you didn't have to worry about any of your shit. Free time for you, yay!

• You dressed up in your favorite t-shirt, a huge hoodie and a pair of shorts and mads your way back to the living room and watched SWDBS with your ghost friend.

• "Soooo Jaebum, why the hell are you here??"

• He pauses the drama before turning to you.

• "Weeellll I may or may not be binded to your music box and I can't go anywhere else"

• "W h y???"

• "Strap in, I'm telling you a longass story"

• So! From what you have found out, Jaebum's mom really liked the music box that she was gifted with during her and her husband's first wedding anniversary. However, that marriage slowly spiralled down into chaos once Jaebum was born.

• When Jaebum grew older, they eventually divorced yet his mother never let go of the love she felt for her husband. Eventually she died, still holding the music box

• Jaebum was surprised that she wasnt the one that haunted the music box

• He swore to himself that he would protect the thing his mother cherished the most and the person who cherished the carousel music box.

• So his mom's best friend's daughter ended up getting the music box after the both of them had died... And that daughter ended up to be one of the ancestors who passed down the music box, until it was handed to you.

• "Soooo you dont have any plans on going, idk, to heaven?? Or hell"

• "yAh I am a good ghostie with good intentions!! Why would I go to hell?!"

• "I dont know!! Just saying!!"

• "I dont know, maybe when you die I'll consider going back to heaven"

• And that is how you got stuck with your ghost friend Jaebum!

[chokememrstark]

The Soulmate Sam Never Asked For // Part 5

Ship: Samifer (Sam Winchester / Lucifer)

Words: 2822(Chapter 5 / 12)

Fic Summary: Sam doesn't know how he got into this situation. What he does know is that he is faced with a side of Lucifer he didn't know existed and that it breaks his heart in more ways than he can count. His classmate - and soulmate, of course - is suffering through much more than he lets anyone know and Sam finds himself offering his help in a very unusual and surprising way.

college!AU, human!AU, soulmates!AU, dysfunctional families, abusive parents, dramatic romance, or romantic drama, your choice, big brother!Lucifer, soulmates hating each other, referenced alcoholism, death and abuse, some violence, and lots of feels, fluff and cuteness, some drama but not too much, lots of bickering, and two damn stubborn soulmates (!!)

Note: My lovely beta reader @brieflymaximumprincess called this a rom-com and even though I don’t believe it is, in my eyes, it does have certain elements of it. This is not the angst you know from me, not at all.

Yes, there is some drama, but there is also a lot of sweet and cute moments, much more than the dramatic ones. I guess you could say I accidentally wrote cute fluff? Because it was not intended, but here we are.

This fic is already completed and will be posted by the regular schedule from now on: Thuesday, Thursday and Saturday! So, enjoy ♥

Tagging: @shebahda   @sassysupernaturalsweetheart    @spnyoucantkeepmedown  @brieflymaximumprincess @multifandomhcsforinsanity @etysky @justasmalltownsuperwholock @humongouscandycoffee​ @daddycasstiel @nnegann​ @blakechaos08

If you want off the tag list or want to be added, just drop me an ask or IM!

Read on AO3!

As soon as they were outside, all of Lucifer’s happy demeanor dropped and he covered his face with his free hand, just leaning against the door and not bothering to let go of Sam’s hand. It was as if he watched a mask fall off the other’s face, one that Sam now realized had been crackling ever since he came here.

“Lucifer, are you okay?” Sam asked carefully, worried when he suddenly heard a dry sob coming from the blond.

“No, I’m not okay!” Lucifer barked, gripping Sam’s hand tighter without even realizing it, almost painfully. “He doesn’t deserve this! Everything was fine, he was better and happy and now he’s back here and even worse than before! How can I be okay with that? How?”

Sam felt a huge lump in his throat when he tried to swallow. He had never seen Lucifer actually worried or even a little emotional, so this was absolutely shocking. There were literal tears rolling down the blond’s face through his fingers and Sam felt utterly helpless and crushed.

“Hey…” The word sounded absolutely stupid when it came out of Sam’s mouth and when he awkwardly patted the other on the back he completed the picture of an idiot.

“He’s ten, man! Ten!” Lucifer continued, not even looking up or acknowledging Sam’s hand on his shoulder. “What did he see of life? Half of his time he spent in hospitals… that’s just not right…”

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam asked slowly, hoping to not make it even worse. “Is there nothing they can do?”

“They already did,” Lucifer said and shook his head slowly, tears still rolling down his cheeks. “He got a kidney transplant last year and things were getting better, he could even go back to school. We all thought he was fine again...”

“What happened then? Why is he back here?”

“His teacher called me last week, he broke down in class…” Lucifer slid down the door into a cowering position and Sam had no option but to do the same. “His body is rejecting the new kidney, it’s poisoning him… they removed it now, but without a new one he has no chance.”

“Shit…” Sam whispered and plopped down on the floor next to Lucifer.

He had no idea things were so dire, no wonder Lucifer couldn’t hold it back anymore. Without even realizing what he was doing, Sam began to knead the other’s shoulder with his hand. Now he felt even worse for acting like a rejected date at prom night.

“Gabe is heartbroken, he refuses to leave Raphael for even a minute,” Lucifer mumbled quietly, his voice still heavy and creaky. “I don’t know what to tell him, I can’t  do anything… I begged them to just take one of my kidneys but it doesn’t fit, we don’t even have the same blood type, goddammit!”

“And there is no one else?” Sam asked, but Lucifer shook his head.

“He’s at the top of the transplant list, but they didn’t give us much hope. I don’t know what to do anymore, Sam… I wanted to get us out of there so they can just be kids but I can’t, I just can’t…”

For the first time, Sam felt actual sympathy and compassion for Lucifer. Here was this young man that was going through hell day in and day out, that sacrificed everything for his little brothers, including his mental and physical health, and Sam was sure he would even kill himself to make sure they were fine - how could he be a cold, emotionless dick when being shown this side of him? He didn’t need to be someone’s soulmate to show understanding, even if it took him long enough to realize that.

“There’s gotta be a way to help him,” Sam said quietly and, much to his own surprise, leaned his head against Lucifer’s shoulder. It was an instinct he didn’t fight and somehow it felt like the right thing to do in this moment.

“I hope so,” Lucifer sighed, tilting his head so it touched Sam’s slightly. “I really do…”

After Lucifer had calmed down partially, Sam insisted that he would go to the bathroom to wash his face so he would look normal again, while he went to the nurse station so see if Raphael’s wish for pudding and ice cream could be satisfied. Lucifer didn’t argue with him, which was a little weird considering that Sam had half-expected him to. The nurse Sam talked to promised to bring their little patient some pudding, ice cream was sadly out of question. A bit more satisfied, Sam walked back to the room to wait for Lucifer. Raphael was sitting in his bed this time, a book on his lap.

“Good news,” Sam smiled when he walked over to the chair Lucifer had used before and sat down. “Pudding is on the menu for today.”

“Yippie!” Raphael exclaimed quietly with a big smile. “Where is Luci?”

“He’ll be back soon,” Sam promised. “He had to go to the bathroom quickly.”

“Do you like my big brother?” Raphael suddenly asked, completely taking Sam off guard.

“What?”

“Do you like Luci? He never brought anyone here, so I just thought…” the boy shrugged, giving Sam a knowing look and a smirk that was eerily similar to his big brother's.

“Yeah, he’s a nice guy,” Sam smiled back, not wanting to admit that he normally never even talked to the other. “You like him too, don’t you?”

“He’s the best!” Raphael stated proudly and fully convinced. “He’s not like Mikey who ran away, Luci always says we have to stick together and that he’ll never leave us.”

“That’s very sweet.” Sam felt warm in his chest at this. “He’s a good brother, I can see that. He really cares about you.”

“Dad doesn’t like it, but I don’t care,” Raphael said and pinched his nose as if they shared a secret now. “Luci is gonna be our dad soon and we’ll live in a house all by ourselves.”

“Really?” Sam asked, amused by the thought. “Did he tell you that?”

“He promised and Luci said you have to keep your promises.”

“That’s true,” Sam nodded with a stern face. “You have to do that. And if he promised he’ll make it happen, I’m sure of that.”

“You can visit us when we live there if you want to,” Raphael smiled and put the book back on the nightstand. “I can show you all my books then, do you like books?”

“I love books!” Sam laughed, to which Raphael giggled into his hand.

The two were still laughing when the door opened and Lucifer walked in, visibly confused by the sudden happy atmosphere in the room.

“Everything okay?” he asked suspicious and Sam forced himself to stop laughing.

“Raphael just invited me over to when you move into your new house, right, Raph?”

“Mhm!” Raphael nodded proudly at his big brother. “It’s okay, Luci, right? Sam can come visit us or not?”

“Of course he can,” Lucifer said with what Sam thought was a very forced smile, but Raphael didn’t seem to mind. “But first you gotta get better, okay? Maya will be here soon with your food and medicine and doctor Francis wants to do a few more tests with you after that. You think you can do that?”

“But not the blood washing machine again, please!” Raphael groaned and dropped into his pillow. “I hate that thing!”

“Not today, promised,” Lucifer said. “I’ll have to kidnap Sam though, is that okay?”

“And Gabe?”

“Let him sleep. If he wakes up one of the nurses will play with him until the doctor is done, they always do. Maybe Nancy has some time for him, they had a lot of fun last time.”

“Okay!” Raphael said, slightly relieved and turned to Sam. “I like you, Sam. You’re really nice. You’ll come visit me again, right?”

“Sure,” Sam said surprised and a bit flattered. “If your brother is okay with it, why not?”

“We’ll see,” Lucifer smiled and tucked on Sam’s shirt. When the brunet stood up and looked at Lucifer, he noticed that the cold water only slightly helped with his appearance. “You’ll be nice, yes? Sam and I will go eat something downstairs, you know how to reach me.”

“Just press the 6 on my phone and your pocket rings, yeah,” Raphael grinned and rolled his eyes. “Bye, Sam! Nice meeting you!”

“Nice meeting you too Raph, bye!”

Sam let Lucifer drag him out again, but this time they didn’t stop in front of the door. Lucifer guided him down a few stairs until they entered the cantina, where he found a table for them in a corner. He walked away for a few minutes to get two coffees, but when he sat down he didn’t look happy at all. If looks could kill, Sam was sure he'd be dead already.

“What did you two talk about?” Lucifer immediately asked, without trying to hide his disapproval.

“Nothing, really!” Sam quickly assured the other, surprised by the sudden change of his behavior. “He just told me that you’re the best brother and care for them, that’s all. We just chatted.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” Lucifer sighed. “He barely sees a different face, only Gabe and me and the nurses and doctors. I bet he told you about dad too.”

“Just that he doesn’t like that they like you more, that’s it,” Sam answered honestly. “He really seems to adore you.”

“He thinks I can do anything,” Lucifer smirked sadly and looked up. “But I can’t make that he’s not sick anymore sadly. Raphael thinks I’m Superman when in reality I’m not even Clark Kent…”

“But you’re trying,” Sam insisted. “Look what you do for him! You dropped out of college to be there for him and you do it again now. Maybe you’re not Superman, but you’re doing all you can, don’t you?”

“I’d burn this whole place down if it would save him,” Lucifer huffed. “He’s such a smart little kid and it’s all wasted because he’s sick. He doesn’t even have a rare blood type, but we still can’t find a donor that matches! It’s so frustrating.”

The two were silent for a bit, both sipping from their coffee sporadically. Sam desperately wanted to say something, but all he could think of were empty words. This wasn’t a situation to just say ‘keep your head up’, he knew that. Lucifer was obviously drained and exhausted and didn’t know how to help his brother anymore.

“What blood type does he have?” Sam eventually asked, just to say something and Lucifer sighed.

“A… it could be worse, he could have O, but it seems not even that helps…”

“I’ve got A.”

Lucifer lifted his head and looked at Sam, surprised and squinting his eyes suspiciously.

“I mean…”

“No.” Lucifer’s voice was so cold and strict that Sam’s heart actually skipped a beat. “Don’t even think about it, no.”

“Well, it wouldn’t hurt to test me, would it?”

“This isn’t a game, Sam!” Lucifer barked and glared at the other angrily. “You can’t just come here and say ‘Oh let’s see, maybe I’m a match’ and think it works like that because it doesn’t. My brother’s  life is on edge here, I’m not up for any half-hearted jokes!”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Sam asked offended and glared back at the blond just as angrily. “Who says I think this is a walk in the park? I’m just saying let’s get me tested, if it’s a chance, why not, what's the big deal?”

“Because you could die, you moron! Ever heard of complications? And even if it works you don’t know if his body will reject it again or if you’ll have problems later on! He can’t go through this again, his body won’t take another failure! Hell,  I can’t take another failure either!”

“So?” Sam didn’t see the point. “You said they don’t have a donor and we share the same blood type, so what’s the problem in getting me tested? Lucifer, I’m sorry to break it to you, but this isn’t about you, okay? It’s about your brother.”

“Fuck, I know, okay!” Lucifer slammed a fist on the table and let his head follow shortly after. “I  know it’s about him and it’s killing me!”

“Look,” Sam sighed, more calm now and trying to stay this way. He laid a hand on Lucifer’s, which was ruffling through his hair, and he stayed still. “I know you’re upset and scared, I get it. But just seeing if I might be a match won’t hurt anyone, right?”

“You’re really serious with this?” Lucifer asked and looked up, Sam’s hand still on his head. “Would you actually do it if you turn out to be a match?”

“Of course I would,” Sam smiled warmly. “And this isn’t about you, don’t flatter yourself. I still don’t like you particularly. But I like Raphael, he’s a sweet kid and he deserves to live. If there’s a chance I can help him I wanna give it a try at least.”

“You’re the most stubborn person I met so far, seriously.” Lucifer huffed, but Sam saw the corners of his lip jerk up a little.

“That’s because you don’t know me,” Sam said and leaned back, finally letting go of Lucifer’s hand. “I’m the most stubborn person you’ll  ever meet, actually.”

At this they both had to laugh, even if it was an awkward and weird laugh. Still, Sam meant what he had just said. This wasn’t about Lucifer, not really at least. He did kind of warm up to the blond, even if he disliked the idea but, he really wanted to help Raphael and the brothers deserved the chance to get away from their awful dad to live a better life. Wasn’t that what he had done too by going to college?

After a few moments of silence between them, Lucifer suggested they get something to eat and Sam was relieved about the lighter topic. Even if hospital food wasn’t his favorite, he couldn’t deny that he was hungry. It turned out to be less awful than he had feared luckily and when they were done they went back to the unit Raphael’s room was in to wait for the doctor to come out. They didn’t talk much, maybe there wasn’t anything to say right now, but it was less awkward than before.

Finally, when the door opened and a man and two nurses came out, Lucifer jumped up and rushed over to them.

“And? Is everything okay?” he asked, unable to hide his worry any longer.

“He’s stable for now,” the doctor said, but he still gave Lucifer a sad look. “I can’t say for how long, though. The dialysis works at the moment, but if he doesn’t get a new kidney soon it might not help anymore.”

“Doctor?” Sam interrupted the two, drawing the doctor’s attention. He held out his hand for the man in white to shake. “I’m Sam, a friend of Lucifer. I wondered if you could test me to see if I might be a match for Raphael? Lucifer told me we have the same blood type and since there aren’t many hopes for a new donor I wondered if I might be able to help him.”

“You would consider donating a kidney to him?” the doctor asked surprised and Sam nodded quickly.

“If I can, yes,” he answered. “I know it’s a long shot, but I’d like to try and get tested at least. If I’m able to help him I will do it.”

“That’s very noble of you,” the doctor said and turned to Lucifer, who stood next to them awkwardly. “You have a very good friend here, Lucifer.”

“Yeah, it seems like it…” Lucifer mumbled, a hint of red on his cheeks now.

“If you have time I could explain the procedure to you now? Just so you know what might happen if the test results come back positive.”

“Yes, of course!” Sam agreed eagerly. “Lucifer, will you say bye to Raphael from me? But don’t tell him anything yet, I don’t want him to be disappointed if it won’t work.”

“Of course, yeah,” Lucifer answered perplex, but still nodded. “Thanks, Sam.”

“Come, we can go to my office for the details.”

The doctor put an arm around Sam’s shoulder and only left the boy the chance to smile back at Lucifer as an answer. That he actually wanted to do this seemed to shock the other more than his outburst from before, because he kept looking after them in utter confusion as they walked away. For Sam it was the right thing to do though. Even if he rejected the idea of soulmates and refused to acknowledge its influence, there was no way he would let an innocent child die if there might be something he could do about it. If Lucifer knew him, he would understand, he thought.

[unproduciblesmackdown]

there was an ask list but instead of reblogging it im just doing the thing where i answer it all and put it here under a readmore

what mythical creature do you wish actually existed? idk i like griffins but i feel like thats boring b/c they dont like have any Powers...

soundcloud or vinyls? i dont rly use either lol

what book does everyone right now need to read? whatever they want i have no huge recs. i like the ashbury high / brookfield series & thats kinda unknown but thats it

do you like wearing other people’s shirts/jackets? its not much of a thrill...i guess im neutral but it has to fit me for starters

what was the best thing that happened to you this month? i donno. watched some stuff, had ppl compliment me

what’s a promise you’ve recently made to yourself? i periodically tell myself to care less about various shit

would you rather be the sky, the ocean or the forests? i guess the sky....clouds are nice. the ocean is full of heinous shit and the abyss. the forest can be kinda iffy too and also cut down

would you kiss the last person you kissed again? i havent kissed anybody romantically* so its not really an issue for me

do you plan your outfits? rarely

how do you feel right now? eh theres the usual undercurrents of misery and frustration but that’s just bg noise most of the time. im alright i suppose

what’s the last dream you remember having? well i was having trouble driving, which is a frequent dream, because it was a bus, which is an unusual detail. i think we were trying to take a roadtrip to a beach in another country, which is a thing that happens in my dreams lately. but then i suddenly found out i was in a play that was in like rehearsal/performance stages already, which is also common. my role was to act like i was real gay for some other guy character. i was like lol no prob

what are you craving right now? im usually a bit hungry i guess

turn ons/offs? i like people who can go along with a joke i suppose and who seem interested in other people and what they have to say. too many things repel me from other ppl to list

when was the last time you cried? why? i’ll cry super easily if im just imagining some sad concept

did the one person who hurt you most in your life apologize? there’s some contenders there smh...but no

do you bite or lick your ice cream? lick....

favorite movie ever? i dont have one

do you like yourself? yeah im alright enough

have you ever met or seen in person a celebrity? not like an a-lister no

how many countries have you visited? just the one ive always been in

have you ever been in a castle? no

what’s the craziest/bravest thing you’ve done? i dont think anything too special. got in front of a car w someone but it was moving slow. proceeded w my stage entrance anyways even when a curtain cue got effed up & led the Improvisation of working around it, but that was dance so nobody had any lines to change

what’s on your mind right now? hoping it tstorms really dramatically later

what’s your zodiac sign? gay

name 5 facts about yourself. my eyes are blue, my pupils dont dilate evenly coz one is a bit less dilatable, im horribly nearsighted, i can cross one eye, i have sort of a unibrow

do you believe in karma? i dont believe in not karma

ever been in love? not romantically*

whom do you admire and why? a lot of activists, im interested in activism and volunteering but have rarely been able to actually be involved in things

what was your favorite bedtime story as a child? man i dont remember having bedtime stories, i dont think i did that much after learning to read myself. i read “pat the bunny” a lot for my little brother, that one was his fave

did you make someone laugh today? i dont think so

do you believe in ghosts? ive always liked hearing about ghost shit, i am not inclined to think that everyone who says theyve had Ghost Encounters is lying, i know ppl personally who have stories who i dont think are lying and it would be presumptuous to say like “well but they probably didnt REALLY x y or z,” and yet still i am always skeptical abt the whole thing. i am agnostic abt everything ever re afterlife stuff, but again—if we’re in a horror movie haunted house situation and shits going down, im going to assume ghosts and everything ive heard about them is true and act accordingly until we’re out of there, Greg The Adamant Disbeliever can have fun dying. and catch me not messing around w ouija boards or any of that shit either...im good.

if you could go back in time which time period would you visit? visit....damn i dunno.

would you want to live forever? why/why not? i mean if other ppl are doing it to then it might be fine. but like me specifically as things are now living forever, im not much interested. someone else can have my immortality

what makes you sad? shit like, life man

was today typical? why/why not? yeah i didnt do anything interesting

who do you trust the most? i dont particularly distrust anyone but i dont really have anything i’d need to trust anyone over

what did you have for breakfast today? i didnt

do you have any regrets looking back in your life? not really

what’s your favorite fictional universe? i dont have one

favorite tv show? i dont have one

share a favorite quote. i have some but i’ll never be able to think of one on the spot

what does your ideal day look like? ahh idk. doing something fun while being around other people

do you have any hobbies? i guess drawing / writing count. theres other things but i dont do them regularly / recently

share a small random book passage that means something to you. dont have one

what’s something you always wanted to do but were too scared? theres not really anything like that

do you usually date people your age or older/younger? neither

who means the world to you? why? any cat ive ever met b/c theyre angels

best books you’ve ever read? i guess i can plug the ashbury/brookfield books again

who is your favorite cartoon character? i gotta say lars dont i

coffee or tea? tea

would you rather be extremely rich or extremely loved? loved but like by multiple ppl right? gimme that magnitude in Widely rather than Intensely

are you a dog or a cat person? i feel like only dog ppl consider this to be a real Binary

what is your biggest addiction? biting my lip endlessly lol

do you ever think about the galaxy? sure

what’s your favorite color? blue

do you have a good relationship with your parents and siblings? why/why not? nah...my sibs and i are like friendly acquaintances i guess. thatll be an abusive household i guess

are you a morning or a night person? night

have you ever dealt with a mental illness? I Guess

how would your friends describe you? uhhhh people say im funny sometimes

do you consider yourself and extrovert or an introvert? bit of both

what’s something you love watching/reading but you are too embarrassed to admit you do? i dont think i have any secrets there

describe yourself in 3 words. extremes, thoughtful, Gay

best memory as a child? idk i always liked swimming and going to pools / waterparks

what is your eye and hair color? blue / brown, respectively.

do you like crystals? theyre cool

if you could change one thing in the world, what would it be? imperialism banned

what’s your hogwarts house? idk slytherin hufflepuff or smthing

biggest pet peeve? theres many..

would you rather go to a cocktail party with your best friends or stay home and read a book/watch a movie with your pet? well first i need the mythical best friend group but also can we be doing something more fun than a cocktail party

share a secret. I’ve Pooped Outside

would you rather live longer or happier? this might only be a difficult choice if it was live shorter or happier

who’s story is your biggest inspiration in life? why? nobody coz idk

do you wear glasses? yes

forest or river? forest

do you like exercise? its alright i dont like just straightup running though

do you like poetry? it depends on who the poet is. cishet white dudes shouldnt be allowed, for starters

any special talent that you have? i’m good at telling if lines are parallel lol

[luisneer]

selected tweets 2016-17

These are tweets from my first @luisneer twitter account. Recently I made a new twitter account with the same username, after having deleted my account and having been without twitter for several months. These tweets are from August 2016 to March 2017, which was most of my first year of college at Shepherd University, in Shepherdstown, West Virginia. I don't go to Shepherd anymore; I transferred to West Virginia University, in Morgantown, WV, after my second semester. My tweets from late March 2017 to [July or August] 2017, when I deleted my twitter, were not archived. 

I'm creating this blog post so the world will have access to some of my tweets from the deleted @luisneer, in case they have any merit as literature. I'm still not sure if I will continue to use twitter in 2018/the future. Usually when I use twitter I feel like I'm actually wanting to be doing something else, but I don't know what; or wanting to be using "another app" that doesn't exist. Twitter generally seems bad for me. Questions about my tweets August 2016-March 2017 can be directed at luisneer@gmail.com. Thank you

    2016

   morgantown has ~48 vape shops

 **morgantown has ~480 vape shops

 siri has werner herzog-like inflections

 considering changing outfits when i take several walks in one day (so nobody thinks im a serial killer, stalker, spy, alien)

 think i remember ~5% of things i said today

 imagined vague connection btwn 'vitamin d' and 'reptar'

 felt distinctly that i was a monkey or chimpanzee while crouching in the corner of my dorm room eating peanuts out of a jar

 just thought (as a request to my mom) 'fax me my skateboard...'

 looked at toilet in bathroom stall with expression of 'utter terror' for what felt like ~15 seconds while it flushed

 listening to bright eyes with headphones at house show

 feel that the toothpaste i use is advancing decay of my teeth

 feel 100% certain that i could train myself to use telepathy to operate my phone during classes

 enjoying the sensation of my right leg 'falling asleep' during psychology class (left foot is also 'asleep')

 felt 'sociopathic' after eye contact w library worker who watched me pick up & pocket a pair of apple headphones someone had left on a chair

 left stolen apple headphones on gray bench across the street from my dorm

 repeatedly placed/removed sunglasses while walking in hallway

 strong desire to remove all positive patterns from my life and perpetuate/embrace all negative ones

 feel that my laptop 'knows' which parts of its screen im looking at

 in winchester, VA

 thought of my own music as having 'no compelling audible elements'

 thought of myself as being legally named 'the fuck up', then couldnt remember my actual name

 successfully, i feel, duplicated 'sociopath facial expression' during eye contact with arch-nemesis in stairwell

 ive taken 13800mg ibuprofen since i got to college

 feel compelled to ask my 9 yr old brother for advice re 'college-level' personal issues

 feel smart after sitting on couch in painting studio + reading art magazines for 2 hours

 persistent notion that 100% of students at my college personally hate me

 psychology professor muttered something like 'scary snake... endocrine system...'

 feeling heavily drugged/sedated in psych class

 psych professor seems obsessed with/terrified by snakes

 imagined kanye smoking crystal meth and tweeting something like 'please help me... cant feel mouth... need help'

 saw a moth at open mic, thought about god

 experiencing difficulty trying to smile

 enjoying using numerous cliches ('the case is closed', 'taking a step back', 'harsh realities') in an essay

 intrigued by conversation i had 9 hrs ago w/ 2 boys who countered my tone (calm, eloquent) exactly by being loud and rude in a friendly way

 felt simultaneously really cute and really lonely while giggling with my mouth closed in french class

 imagined kanye inventing the word 'compactualize' and using it in a sentence during a televised interview

 enjoyed 8-sentence john updike bio in norton lit anthology

 perceived person standing outside bathroom stall occupied by me could 'sense', via something like echolocation, that i was/am depressed

 spoke to french professor in what felt like a distinct persona/alternate luis neer called 'marge simpson voice' luis neer

 feel confidently that the public debut of 'marge simpson voice' luis neer was a success

 feel that 'marge simpson voice' luis neer is the culmination of an unconscious process that initiated in my mind maybe 3-5 years ago

 i want to identify/analyze additional alternate luis neers

 i dont like videos

 i came to college and got weirder, better at writing, more arrogant, more defeated, more sensible

 simultaneously feel that i should run 3 miles and that, at this moment, i would be incapable of running any distance

 feel urged to draw new attention to my 'marge simpson voice' tweets

 huge power outage at shepherd lol

 realized theres no such thing as a 'nation'

 remembered ive blown off obligations to several people, not just one person, so my irresponsibility doesnt 'have a focus', felt comforted

 feel that my follower count is 'crystallized' / will never increase or decrease ever again

 struggled to convert 'stick-and-poke' to past tense during conversation in line at sheetz

 feel it would be pleasurable to take a donut + bottle of coca-cola from this sheetz via armed robbery

 crossed busy road, felt really surprised i didnt get hit by a car, also i wasnt wearing glasses, was walking to sheetz, bought an icee

 laughed alone in my dorm thinking that i should print out a picture of barack obama to put on my wall

 drank from separate glasses containing soymilk, coffee, iced coffee, apple juice, cranberry juice, water, sprite for dinner/breakfas

 just thought 'from adorno to zizek' sans context while shitting

 opened gmail, emailed my father, closed gmail, opened gmail again, viewed email to my father, forwarded it to myself

 'camcorder' would be a good band name

 i thought arnold palmer had already died

 willem dafoe doesnt make me uncomfortable

 i want to stop being mean

 i hate bfs but i want to be someones bf

 wishing i was in a car with friends and no cellular service

 tangled up in myself and others

 twin peaks is depicted as a small town but its population is greater than that of every city in west virginia including the state capital

 eating shark

 thought of my own intelligence as 'frightening'

 thought while walking to class that ginger ale should be made public domain

 had the stitches on my chin removed today, touched the scar tissue for the first time

 i miss being in therapy

 i love carpet

 i love carpet !!

 just thought about my own tweets and lol'd

 mood lately very fragile

 this is what i get for staying up til 5 am

 all night i've felt a wave of dread swelling up, now it's really hitting me

 sound of laughter in public still frightening + unnerving

 my instinct for when to unfriend people on facebook has adapted so that i unfriend people over statuses that make me feel no emotions at all

 fuck, im feeling so much terror

 gucci mane was born 3 days before conor oberst

 the other day i mentioned that i was a poet and this vape guy interrupted me to say "and you didnt know it" and i went fucking nuclear

 interacted with mailman who was picking up mail as i was trying to mail chapbooks, he didnt notice at first that i was talking to him

 what if old people have secrets

 my dad is making me root for a football team but im in pain emotionally

 i feel guilty in general

 thought of my poem "portrait of a nation without any people" as the "lead single" for my full length; it appeared in potluck 14 months ago

 im close friends with satan rn

 feel like travis scott never intended for people to spell his name with a $

 from now on every time i get honey on something ill list the thing in this thread

 finger

 desk

 coffee cup exterior

 pajama pants

 knee

 carpet

 chin

 phone

 shirt

 shoe

 thought that my elderly geography prof. moves by "shuffling"

 feeling shorter, broader

 the only part of the new bright eyes box set i want is the booklet

 is there a booklet? i know there are nvr b4 sn photos

 the song "lime tree" came to conor oberst in a dream

 i like citing things in MLA

 i write essays by pretending im werner herzog

 doesnt seem to be getting later

 lit professor gave my project (sequence of 6 sonnets) a C, i wish she would have gotten me expelled, shelley + ginsberg both were expelled

 heard someone in another room ask "where's wal-mart?" as if wal-mart were a person whose location could change

 i think i just swallowed a filling while eating popcorn, i am very scared, please help

 crazy how things get worse

 there are people on my floor having tons of fun and im upset

 bit my mattress while sitting in the chair next to my bed

 weird that chance the rapper only has 2.4 million followers when he's sort of one of the most famous artists in the world rn

 also weird that donald trump has made 34,000 tweets, seems like an incredibly large number

 the strangeness of yesterday was, for me, augmented by people on the internet talking about a tv show that ive never seen or heard about

 the sunlight is obscene

 im so upset about the sun being so bright im afraid to go outside

 im glad im the only poet who likes trailer park boys

 i slept in a blanket fort under my bed and havent left it all day

 yr = your ur = you're

 my favorite things are pdfs

 now that ive adapted my living space to allow me to never leave my blanket fort i feel like my roommate, omar, exists in a parallel universe

 i hear him but i never see him

 i love latte art, i drink many lattes

 thought that twitter "isn't worth it" in an upset tone while drinking mtn dew

 felt pleasant considering uniqueness of all parent-offspring relationships

 went through my closet + made sure all shirts and jackets were zipped/buttoned

 my blanket is generating flashes of light from static electricity

 record store guy became visibly sick of me several months ago; feel a little guilty every time i enter his store to spend money

 i prefer EPs

 felt "out of control" walking downhill listening to dead kennedys with headphones

 writing an essay is difficult because idk how much relevant information other people have already considered / moved on from

 have been wanting to write at least one poem inside my blanket fort but i don't think it's going to happen, i don't know why

 the internet isn't big enough

 usually when i think "i dont understand the uproar about [event]" i realize there is no "uproar"

 "uproar" is media's way of manipulating the public spotlight and distracting people from important tasks

 feeling helpless + melancholy after dying 15 times and killing 2 stormtroopers in star wars battlefront

 the only way to attain conor oberst-level emo hair is to lay in bed and sob for hours

 i'm sad

 my mom was confused when i told her my first book comes out today

 was luis neer in odd future

 thought "sometimes i just want to end it and start all over" in an exasperated tone re my goodreads account

 becoming increasingly convinced it would be best for me personally to take myself extremely seriously/never joke about myself

 thinking that my tweets would seem terrible if i were a senator/governor/other politician

 imagined doomsday device for future @starwars movies: the "death train," a normal train that exists in space and destroys planets

 how does anyone do it

 in science fiction movies, spacecraft usually look like shopping malls

 everyone in the world is high except me

 feel like i want to have poems published immediately

 having delusions of grandeur

 im sitting on my record player

 my most-used word in 2016 was "bleak"

 prepared and ate garbanzo beans w a lot of rosemart at 2:00 AM

 my brother has a friend over and is being mean to the friend

 all i want for christmas is to never cheer up, ever

 watching eyes wide shut and hugging duckuc

 my nose feels like it's going to bleed

 im sad because every bf looks like me

 getting better at eating ice cream by punching it with my tongue

 the internet is too freaky...

 i think 2017 will be a year of realizing things

 im watching the angry birds movie

 the angry birds movie is so shitty... why was it made...

 ive never had a new years kiss

   2017

   im weird

 eating medicinal ice cream

 im not going to do any drugs in 2017

 made a medicinal phone call

 i want to drink some blood

 i dreamed that roger ebert wrote a negative review of life after ppl and called it "liner notes"

 years dont kill people

 feel inexplicably/explicably really scared about the future of my poetry career

 i've felt stoned since i was a baby

 downloading google earth

 made eye contact in starbucks with possible luis neer incarnation from ~50 years in future; bon jovi "dead or alive" played through speakers

 realised that at some point in the future i will become extremely interested in watching football

 i recommend reading poems extremely slowly while touching the text with your middle finger/index finger

 experiencing cognitive dissonance

 used phonetic clues to correctly predict meaning of & use the word "tandem" while discoursing with myself internally

 i miss steel pedal guitar sounds on conor oberst songs

 my previous incarnation "college luis neer" has evolved to become "high school luis neer-like luis neer in college setting"

 thought "man, i got to stop caring what people think about me" in an emphatic tone that seemed confusing/interesting

 mediocore

 beyonce is cool i think

 i want to re-read "v for vendetta" and to not tweet about it

 remembered that i own a pinata

 i will be at awp

 how could i make twitter a better place

 i saw 4 people wearing yeezys in dc this weekend

 feeling increasingly self-conscious about how much i use the phrase "in the world" or refer to "the world" in poems

 felt robot-like while attaching detachable headphones cord to my headphones while wearing the headphones

 watching shepherd univ lacrosse team practice from "safety of" student center

 i invented releasing two chapbooks in one day

 im dumber than me

 reasoned mentally that im more likely to produce accurate drawings of myself because "i basically look like a bird, so i just draw a bird"

 i want to have a "fake tweet" (e.g. a simple phrase) to tweet repeatedly every time i feel urged to tweet an uninformed/unimportant opinion

 my fake tweet for the foreseeable future will be "i dropped my textbook in the stairwell". when i tweet this it means i have an opinion

 i dropped my textbook in the stairwell

 does anyone remember the chapter of "the hobbit" where bilbo avoids starvation by ingesting peanut butter, honey, cherry nyquil, and water

 sensed that all my college friends just simultaneously shifted from having vague/non-serious negative feelings about me to hating me

 resulting from continuous building of irrepressible/inevitable conjecture in the friends' conscious thoughts

 eating chicken and squash

 i click on 100% of poetry links tweeted by poets i follow

 when i was writing Waves i was obsessed with waves (e.g. energy waves, frequencies) and used the word "waves" at least ~10 times every day

 i dropped my textbook in the stairwell

 white nike swooshes on shoes of boy in library look vibrant/magical

 terrified of being cool

 walked to library really slowly while listening to noise music through big headphones

 i was really, really yung when i started publishing and i'm still really yung

 2 chainz always looks like he's walking in an airport

 i have 5 twitters

 i didnt know what bill paxton looked like, i was thinking RIP gene hackman

 why doesnt anyone blog about me

 thesis statements arent real

 thinking about my book

 i deleted both my tumblrs by accident

 sad about my tumblr

 my name is all over the internet

 im a lizard

 someday there'll be no more ppl

 a lot of conor oberst song titles have parentheses

 feeling sad about the actions of my clone, who passed away

 idk how to use venmo or what it is

 present-day tumblr is like the end of the never ending story where atreyu is talking with the rock biter and the nothing is swirling around

 when someone, anyone, is upset with me im afraid im going to be assassinated

 the views-era apple music ads that depict drake working hard in the studio have really affected and inspired me

 on tumblr i have 4 followers

 almost all of my tweets seem unimportant

 feel that if someone told me that one of my tweets made them upset i would just apologize and delete it

 ground control to commander venus

 i like my new tumblr

 i would be wearing a cardigan rn but i dont have one

 feel that i will continue to generate bright eyes-related content throughout my life

 is everything ok

 i look like michael moore

[noahhernandez]

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? Kenny 2. Are you outgoing or shy? Shy around people I’m not too familiar with in intimate spaces/events. But like at work I can talk to a huge crowd of people at one time and not even care 3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? The cashier at any nearby fast food restaurant and kenny 4. Are you easy to get alone with? along with no alone with no im not a hoe 5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? Um, I’m not sure 6. What kind of people are you attracted to? rich ones. 7. Do you think you'll be in a relationship two months from now? That’s a tough question. 8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? idk angel and brit 9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Yes lmao. 10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? fuck um idk deep like how ?? sharon angel and I are discussing Ware’s father in the hospital 11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? You should [drink] but only if you stay at your cousins 12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now? hm. Woke the Fuck Up, Mercy, Side to Side, ????? idk i need a radio on rn 13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? I guess, but I have little bit of hair 14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? not really  15. What good thing happened this summer? I didnt die 16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Yes  17. Do you think there is life on other planets? yes  18. Do you still talk to your first crush? who is that 19. Do you like bubble baths? too tall for a damn bath 20. Do you like your neighbors? ive never met them 21. What are you bad habits? Smoking 22. Where would you like to travel? new york and the europe-y area 23. Do you have trust issues? Yes 24. Favorite part of your daily routine? going to sleep 25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? All of it 26. What do you do when you wake up? immediately check the time to make sure i’m not late for work 27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? a little darker because I dont like people thinking i’m white because I am latino!!!! 28. Who are you most comfortable around? Michelle, Brit, Angel, Brianna, Keyla, Peter,  Alosa!  29. Have any of your ex's told you they regret breaking up? hmm yes but i do not care 30. Do you ever want to get married? Not really no 31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail? no 32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? Shawn Mendes and Ryan Reynolds  33. Spell your name with your chin. no 34. Do you play sports? What sports? hahah 35. Would you rather live without TV or music? TV, i mean i basically do now 36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? um probably 37. What do you say during awkward silences? smile and leave 38. Describe your dream girl/guy? $$$ 39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? anything  40. What do you want to do after high school? Well considering I already graduated. My original plans were to go to UNT but I am stuck in Houston going to school here renting out a decent apartment and working my ass off to eat some pizza. really i like it though 41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? Depending on the person and the situation 42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean? I’m thinking- which probably has me being anxious  43. Do you smile at strangers? of course 44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? space has more of a view 45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? money 46. What are you paranoid about? not being good enough 47. Have you ever been high? one time i threw up because i was so high 48. Have you ever been drunk? one time I threw up because i was so drunk 49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about no 50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore? red 51. Ever wished you were someone else? no 52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? my teeth 53. Favourite makeup brand? no 54. Favourite store? mcdonalds 55. Favourite blog? me 56. Favourite colour? black  57. Favourite food? anything chinese 58. Last thing you ate? a breakfast burrito 59. First thing you ate this morning? a breakfast burrito 60. Ever won a competition? For what? play competitions 61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? no 62. Been arrested? For what? nah 63. Ever been in love? no 64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? i don;t  like it !! it was in the boys locker room 65. Are you hungry right now? starving 66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends? dont hav ne  67. Facebook or Twitter? twitter 68. Twitter or Tumblr? twitter 69. Are you watching tv right now? no 70. Names of your bestfriends? god. Michelle, Brianna, Brit, Peter, Keyla, Angel, Sharon, Alisa, my brothers and sisters. 71. Craving something? What? Wings. 72. What colour are your towels? all of the colors 72. How many pillows do you sleep with? 2  73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? no 74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? zero 75. Favourite animal? sloth 76. What colour is your underwear? grey  77. Chocolate or Vanilla? chocolate 78. Favourite ice cream flavour? i dont like ice cream 79. What colour shirt are you wearing? black 80. What colour pants? grey sweats  81. Favourite tv show? greys ? 82. Favourite movie? Scream 83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Mean Girls  84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Mean Girls 85. Favourite character from Mean Girls? ??? This a mean girls questionaire um idk gretchen  86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo? dont like that 87. First person you talked to today? Kenny 88. Last person you talked to today? Lsat person texted me wwas Kenny 89. Name a person you hate?  ! Ryan from work who got fired for stealing 90. Name a person you love? me 91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? idk no 92. In a fight with someone? no lol 93. How many sweatpants do you have? like 3 94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? like 2 95. Last movie you watched? ... hmm I can not remember 96. Favourite actress? not Jennifer Lawrence fuck her 97. Favourite actor? no 98. Do you tan a lot? no  99. Have any pets?  no 100. How are you feeling? exhausted 101. Do you type fast? sure  102. Do you regret anything from your past? being annoying 103. Can you spell well? yes 104. Do you miss anyone from your past? not at all  105. Ever been to a bonfire party? yeah they r cool i guess 106. Ever broken someone's heart? no  107. Have you ever been on a horse? yes  108. What should you be doing? eating or sleeping 109. Is something irritating you right now? im hungry 110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? no wtf yes lmao 111. Do you have trust issues? YES u asked this 112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? Brittney because our friend Darrell tried to kill himself 113. What was your childhood nickname? it is still Noahita 114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? yes fun cool 115. Do you play the Wii? for my netflix yes 116. Are you listening to music right now? nothing i forgot to put more music on 117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? what a very specific question bc i recently told someone I hate chicken noodle soup 118. Do you like Chinese food? omg yes 119. Favourite book? Freedom Writers  120. Are you afraid of the dark? not really 121. Are you mean? lol yes  122. Is cheating ever okay? Is my boyfriend gonna find out im just kidding no 123. Can you keep white shoes clean? no thats why i wear black shoes 124. Do you believe in love at first sight? no  125. Do you believe in true love? sure 126. Are you currently bored? bored 127. What makes you happy? sleeping 128. Would you change your name? Eli Ian  129. What your zodiac sign? libra 130. Do you like subway? its ok 131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? u literally know im gay 132. Who's the last person you had a deep conversation with? u asked i said idk 133. Favourite lyrics right now? no 134. Can you count to one million? im not going to 135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I was on a date with a boy who was being really boring and I told him I had to leave because I had to go take my brother to the mall so we could buy funeral clothes 136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? both i guess 137. How tall are you? five ten and a half   138. Curly or Straight hair? wavy now 139. Brunette or Blonde? black hair 140. Summer or Winter? fall 141. Night or Day? night 142. Favourite month? october 143. Are you a vegetarian? fuck no 144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? milk 145. Tea or Coffee? coffee 146. Was today a good day? it was alright 147. Mars or Snickers? snickers 148. What's your favourite quote? nothing 149. Do you believe in ghosts? yes