#makes the math come alive u feel me

[hemipteran]

can’t take acid anymore bc everything comes a little too alive and I feel like a little fish swimming under the waters of the great firmament u know what I’m saying

[graceslcver]

all da ladies love leo valdez ! leo x daughter of poseidon!reader

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ in which, leo has a crush on yet another girl that’s beyond his league, percy’s sister … and his friends flame him for not being able to confess his feelings!

— this is set in like… university ?? obviously jason doesn’t die…hope u enjoy my first ever fic on here!! might be ooc, soz🫐 also jeyna is a thing…. sorry not sorry!! 🤓😂 (it’s actually not even relevant to this story, but i thought i’d let u know…)

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 4th, 2024

beauty queen

do yall ever wonder how it’s impossible to not pull hoes

like it sounds like a real SKILL issue

superman

who are you talking about, pipes?

beauty queen

who do u think I’m talking about???

the only mfo who doesn’t have a gf???

do NOT play dumb jason grace

latino elf

oh wow

talking shit in the gc is crazzyyy

superman

i wasn’t!

she was.

beauty queen

do not make me pull up our private messages

latino elf

i see how it is…..

😔 it’s always the bitches u think u can trust…

superman

ok

beauty queen

why is he the driest man alive

this why we didn’t last ong😭

latino elf

or maybe because ur lebanese ???

superman

she’s cherokee huh

wait is that supposed to say lesbian?

latino elf

isn’t that what it says…

beauty queen

💀💀

ok… anyway can we talk about the fact that leo has

been madly in love with y/n since like… forever???

latino elf

no thanks

didn’t ask

not true

lying on my name

superman

yeah yeah whatever helps you sleep at night

beauty queen

he’s down bad shhh

latino elf

OHHH GODDD 😭😭😔😔😔

ok so what if i like her shes so fine

and so nice and sooo mermaid 🧜‍♀️

beauty queen

she is very fine and very nice

and yes she’s very mermaid

superman

we all know he isn’t going to say

anything to her, though, right??

latino elf

hahaha 😂 wdym 😂

i’d tell her if percy weren’t her brother

superman

that didn’t stop you from trying to

flirt with MY sister though???????

latino elf

yeah that’s different tho

she COULDNT go out with me

beauty queen

not like she wanted to anyway

latino elf

gtfo

anyway i don’t plan on telling her that

i have any slight interest in her! 😎

superman

you should though

bet she likes you too

beauty queen

don’t feed into his delusions

superman

gosh pipes, pipe it down a notch

latino elf

fr listen to my bro ‼️

how would i even tell her dawggg

WHAT IF she rejects me 🤨 BOOM FRIENDSHIP GONE

superman

yeah i guess so

but yolo ???

latino elf

yolo my ass bro😒

superman

ok sorry for trying to help

beauty queen

this why she dont want u

latino elf

yeah nd thats why yo relationship was a LIE 🤣

superman

😐

beauty queen

🖕🏼

latino elf

lol ur mad

ok bye u guys are a snooze fest 😴

beauty queen

go talk to ur gf

latino elf

i will, beauty queen 🫡

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 4th, 2024

leo 🛠️

hey hey mermaid

y/n 🦈

hi leo !

whats up :)

leo 🛠️

the sky duh

nothing much tho, just chilling in my dorm

u should totally pull up

y/n 🦈

we’ll see 🧐

i’m in the library rn

leo 🛠️

nerd alert ‼️

y/n 🦈

ok but when u fail our exams dont come crying

leo 🛠️

if it were math/science i would be resting peacefully

but no fr i did study, trust 🙏🏼

y/n 🦈

not that u needed it though

you’re smart enough

leo 🛠️

wowie thanks mermaid

da ladies wish they had my smarts

y/n 🦈

🤨🤨

leo 🛠️

sorry that came out SO wrong 😭

y/n 🦈

ok ok well pull up to the library

perhaps i need ur smarts

leo 🛠️

si señora

will be there in a few 😎

shark_girl • 2h

send message ♡ ➣

pipermstealer replied to your story

omg he wants uuu 😳😳🤣😂

shark_girl

why are u insane

😅😅😅

pipermstealer

i am not insane he wants u

what boy willingly wants to study w a girl

shark_girl

one that’s my friend???

pipermstealer

friend my ass bro

he wanna kiss u so bad…

matching usernames??? THE MAAAN WANTS UU 😭

shark_girl

be fr we’ve had them since we were

like fifteen 🙄🙄

pipermstealer

bro get out I’m actually DONE

u have to wake up queen 😭🙏🏼

IMESSAGE, PIPER & JASON July 5th, 2024

pipes 🌸

i am so SO DONE with yn

jason ⚡️

why

pipes 🌸

bc she’s convinced that leo don’t want her

jason ⚡️

i think its very obvious

do you think yn wants leo thats the real question

pipes 🌸

ABSOLUTELY ?????

she has extreme heart eyes for him

but she’s better at hiding it

jason ⚡️

wait are you being serious

NO WAY

NO WAY??

a girl out of his league actually wants him 🤨

piper 🌸

wait I thought u knew???

jason ⚡️

uhm no

she must be good at hiding it

piper 🌸

or boys are just dense

jason ⚡️

ok well…….

we have to get them together

cause I’m so tired of hearing leo ramble abt her

piper 🌸

ok well i’m tired of yn too

how do we get them together

jason ⚡️

uh I don’t know?????

now why would you think I know

aren’t YOU the daughter of aphrodite

maybe YOU should know 😒

pipes 🌸

someone’s mad

but i don’t know?

one of them has to say something eventually….

jason ⚡️

no way, leo would never… not too sure about yn though.

leo cares too much about their friendship

and he is convinced she only sees him as a friend

and he’s deathly afraid to ruin their friendship

pipes 🌸

why do we have dumb friends

why can’t THEY SEEEE

jason ⚡️

yeah it’s very annoying

man, maybe we shouldn’t interfere?

let them figure it out themselves

pipes 🌸

unless u want leo to date the first girl

who gives him the opportunity to date her,

i think we SHOULD interfere! not a lot just a tiny bit 🤏🏼

jason ⚡️

well i guess you have a point… but how?

pipes 🌸

OK hear me out fr

u share a dorm with leo, yeah?

he always leaves his phone unattended

go into twt and make sure he isnt logged into his private account

jason ⚡️

where is this headed

pipes 🌸

ok shut up

OK but make sure hes on the main

since he always talks about her on his priv

so if yn sees a tweet about her then

SHES GOTTA KNOW

jason ⚡️

FIRST OF ALL thats an invasion of privacy

SECOND OF ALL what if she doesn’t see it before

leo realizes that wasn’t tweeted on his private account

pipes 🌸

no she like stalks his twitter so she’ll see!

and uhm so what if it’s an invasion of privacy

he’ll thank us once he gets the girl of his dreams 🙄

jason ⚡️

ok then….

i’ll do it

but if this backfires i was not apart of it

pipes 🌸

yeah yeah whatever

i’ll take the blame

FIVE DAYS LATER, TWITTER!

IMSG, “THE LOST HOES 🫤” July 10th, 2024

latino elf

HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT

IM JUMPING OFF THE NEAREST CLIFF

it was so nice knowing u two

superman

don’t kys ur so sexy haha

what happened though

latino elf

i accidentally tweeted something

about yn.

on my main.

superman

hey man, maybe she didn’t see?

beauty queen

yeah she probably didn’t

latino elf

yeah u guys are RIGHT 😅

she DIDN’T SEE IT!!!

beauty queen

mhm

latino elf

you’re being oddly quiet…

beauty queen

sorry????? IM BUSY

latino elf

yeah huh

superman

you’re crazy

latino elf

oh my god i’m gonna throw up

my friend ship is over with her

she messaged meEEE

HELPPPP

superman

MESSAGE HER BACK???

GO GO GO GOOO BRO

latino elf

no i’m leaving her on delivered

beauty queen

i swear to gods if u don’t message her

jason and i WILL jump you 😭😭

superman

exactly!!

latino elf

it was so nice being her friend 🫤

beauty queen

BRO STFU AND READ HER MESSAGE???

latino elf

ok fine

bye…..

IMSG, “Y/N 🦈” July 10th, 2024

y/n 🦈

leo did u mean to tweet that?

leo 🛠️

tweet what 🤨

y/n 🦈

you know what I’m talking about

you’re not stupid

leo 🛠️

you’re crazy

i got hacked by

jason

y/n 🦈

you’re crazier for thinking I’d believe you

so… u did mean to?

leo 🛠️

i don’t want to ruin our friendship

please don’t let this ruin it

you’re my bestest friend

y/n 🦈

gosh let me talk

i thought you didn’t like me

so i never said anything…?

but i like you, leo. i really do

leo 🛠️

oh my god

are you serious

wait i’m going to your dorm

y/n 🦈

what??

Delivered

Leo looked at his phone for a good second and then left it on his bed, unattended. he ran to your residence hall— it didn’t matter to him that it was quite literally on the other side of campus. he needed to hear you say the words he had been waiting to hear since he was fifteen. he’d always had a slight crush on you, mostly off and on.

But during the summer, he had fallen for you even harder than he thought he could. he never thought that he could love someone as much as he loved you. anyway, he was practically dying as he ran to your dorm! his hair was disheveled, and he was panting a bit. he wasn’t sure if he was sweaty because he was nervous, or because he had just ran to get to your dorm.

He knocked on your door three times.

You jumped out of your bed. you felt like throwing up from how nervous you were. you quickly slid on your slippers, and looked in the mirror before you opened the door for him. (making the poor boy wait). you adjusted your hair, making sure it sat right.

You took a deep breath before opening the door. you almost didn’t, but a voice in your head was telling you that you’d be an idiot if you didn’t open the door. your hands gripped the doorknob, and then unlocked it. leo was practically dying because you were taking years to open the stupid door. you finally opened it, getting met by a disheveled-sweaty-flushed leo valdez.

“Hi.” he croaked out, his voice cracking slightly. he felt like he was on fire, literally. he wanted this to be over with! well, no, that’s a lie. he just wanted to be your boyfriend already.

“…Hi.” you answered, your voice was quiet. you had an awkward smile on your face. you were praying that you would just drown at this moment. you’d much rather enjoy that than this.

He cleared his throat, and finally spoke after a long minute of awkward silence. The two looked at each other “I really… really like you. I.. Uh.. You obviously know that already, but I wanna tell you in person?” he said, nodding along with his own words. his hands went to fumble with the hem of his shirt, anxiously waiting for your response.

“I really like you, too.” You replied. you didn’t feel as nervous as anymore when he started to talk. you felt your face getting hotter, and your smile getting bigger. he grinned at you like an idiot.

He thought that he was dreaming when you said you liked him. The start of something. “Really?” He asked, just wanting to hear you say it again. He couldn’t help but grin like an idiot. He thought never in a million years that you’d ever like him! You were totally out of his league. you were so awesome, so pretty, and so sweet.

You nodded again, rolling your eyes. “Yes, really.”

THREE MONTHS LATER… INSTAGRAM!

shark_girl

🎶 let the light in : lana del rey (feat. father john misty)

Liked by percysbeth, lava_boy, pipermstealer, and 122 others

shark_girl happy three million years with my boy!!! i love u so so so much leo 🫶🏼🫶🏼

tagged: lava_boy

View all 16 comments

lava_boy who is that sexy man in the 2nd slide

→ shark_girl idk i found him at the store……

lava_boy we’re literally like this 🤞🏼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

lava_boy te quiero !!

→ shark_girl 🤍🤍

lava_boy ugh why do we literally solo everyone in new rome

→ shark_girl ntm on percabeth !!!!

→ percysbeth 🫡🫡

pipermstealer yeah you’re welcome 🥱

→ supermantaylorsversion i did all the work

→ pipermstealer i gave u the idea

→ lava_boy thank u jason 😒 thank u piper 🙄

→ pipermstealer i hope she leaves u

→ shark_girl woah guys no need to say that

percysbeth i support 🤫 (pls cook for me leo)

→ lava_boy on it 😎

lava_boy

🎶 ivy : frank ocean

Liked by supermantaylorsversion, shark_girl, and 98 others

lava_boy I would like to thank poseidon for being a father to my wonderful girlfriend of THREE DECADES 😎

tagged: shark_girl

View all 19 comments

shark_girl I THOUGHT THAT I WAS DREAMIN’ WHEN U SAID U LOVEEEE MEEE 😭😭😭

→ lava_boy the start of nothin 🦈

shark_girl i’m taylor lautner

→ lava_boy FORREAL

shark_girl hi bf 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

→ lava_boy hello girlfriend.

→ shark_girl 😭😭😭

pipermstealer no because you guys are actually cute

→ lava_boy ACTUALLY cute 🤨

→ pipermstealer what do u want me to say yall are actually ugly

→ shark_girl pipe it down a notch 😔

supermantaylorsversion he’s a romantic now

→ lava_boy erm i’ve always been one get out 🤓

percysbeth no cause yn has actually dressed up as a shark

→ lava_boy send pics or it didn’t happen

→ percysbeth check imsg

→ shark_girl i thought that was PRIVATE

→ lava_boy LMFAOO U LOOKED SO GOOFY

→ shark_girl you’re done….

｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ hello….. first smau done 😎 hopefully u really like this bc i died ten times whilst making it !!! uhmm pls lmk what you thought about it 🥲!!! i was sort of rushing at the end, so umm.. shhh 🤫…. @thelostheroo @amoosarte

also i will have a master list soon….???? (hopefully) and my requests are OPEN! so, plsplsplspls request…. con amor, mo!

[gojofavho3]

Hi there i have a little Gojo req in mind; Gojo x male reader but reader is like,, taller than him, bigger yk? maybe a bit buffer, arms big enough to throw Gojo over his shoulder hehe. Maybe Gojo is infatuated by the idea of climbing on top of Reader and absolutely WRECKING himself on him 😍 alright okay that got out of hand i hope thats okay but ofc if not i understand and you can just ignore this req, but if you DO do the fic then i am FOREVER IN YOUR DEBT 🙏🏼

Heyyyyy, thanks for the request!!! Sorry to keep you waiting, I had a math test, so I had to put all my focus on that, and that shit was so easy mann

A/n: It probably won't be long, trying to discover other types of writing tbh, because my writing in English is not as good as my Portuguese yk? And dyslexic also doesn't help a lot

There aren't many people who are taller than gojo, At least that he knows personally

gojo is 1.90 centimeters tall, any taller than that you will have to bend down at doors

When you two started dating, he was the happiest man alive, there's is not much people close to him that live so long so, he tries his hardest to protect you and make u become more and more happy every day of your relationship

He just loves you too much

He lets you do anything with him, first time you put him in your shoulders he was surprised. he didn't know what to say or what to do, he was blushing so bad that even a rose couldn't be that red, he was caught off guard not using infinity. Eventually, he got used to and sometimes he doesn't use infinity so you can grab him and put him in your shoulders

He also loves the warmth of your body, especially when it comes to cuddling, he won't leave you alone, not even for one second. You being bigger then him and probably with a bigger chest, he will put his cheek on your chest and rub his cheek against your chest, very close to your nipples, all his problems in the world almost fade away in that state

And thats one of the reasons you have the so called the "strongest" on your dick rn!

" Satoru gojo desperate for a dick so bad. who would imagine?

The so "strongest!"... strongest hoe that's for sure "

The white hair has his cheeks red, red and red, he was on top of you, some of his sweat going to your stomach and pre cum too

In this angle the white moon made him look glorious, the shadow makes his blue eyes glowing like the stars.

It was a dark night, and a cold one too! With autumn the winds start to get stronger and stronger

And what's more warm to made two body's sweat than sex?

"c-can't you he-help me a little ah-awh!"

" nopee! You tied my hands, your the one who wanted so bad to do it alone "

Your hand points to your hands, tied up to the bed by Satoru with one of his blindfolds

He pouts, but continues to go up and down on your fat cook

Every time he goes down he lets out a moan and whimpers, closing his eyes shut tight with his head looking up

Up Up Up Up Up

Down Down Down down down

He goes down and sucks your nipples until it becomes red and purple, he loves hearing you whimpering and creaming, he could feel you getting more close in the seconds

Sometimes he letted it leave his hole put he slip it back again, with the most care in the world

He stopped sucking it and goes to your face, giving you a honest smile, with his eyes close, and then giving you silly kisses that he knew you loved

Satoru could feel your cheeks being heated as he played with them, like a granny, making you made silly faces too.

"why are you making my face look silly in the middle of fucking?"

"b-because..."

"because..?"

"because I cann! W-Why~~? Wanted me to slap them?? Agwh!.."

"no sir!"

You says Ironically as he stops after a while and continues to bounce on your dick

His ass cheeks slapping with your lower part, making the clap sound over and over

You could feel he was cumming, you could feel how tight his hole was becoming and the sounds he was madding becoming more loud

" c-ca-can I I cum.. mhm! "

" n-no need to ask, jus come, I'm also close..."

You say already feeling your cum starting to leave your cook

Up Up Up Up Up Up upupuupupupup-

Downdowndowndowndowndowndown-

Splash!

White

Everywhere

You two were heavily breathing, with white splashed on your stomach and the covers

He falls in your chest, cum dripping down on his hole going to your cook and traveling to the covers

His hair is all messed up like yours

He kisses you, a kiss really heated out, until you two become with almost no air, painted out

" d-did... did you g-get warm...? "

Satoru nods as he can't talk yet

" good.. "

You say finally taking your hands of his blindfold, going immediately to his ass, slapping with all your strength, making his ass red as fuckkk, letting it jiggle, yes, he has some cake there

He whines and lets out a loud moan that even your neighbours could hear

He had a confused and hot look on his face as he puts his hand in his hair wires, messing it more

"w-why..??"

" to get you ready for round 2

It's good that you warm but! This shit ain't over love!! "

Hope u like it! And now your in debt with me 😈

Kidding

This was funny to write

I don't understand people who say the moon is yellow, like the only colour I see is white there

And for knowledge, I'm not colour blind, I think

And now, I'll farm for sampo, my big titties man 😋💖

See you, till next time!

@heart-lovees

[peachesofteal]

with all these asks im resigning myself more and more to the bittersweet ending of them not getting back together but it being for the benefit of them all 😭

they obviously love eachother so much but for several chapters there’s this idea that’s been floating in the back of my head haunting me lol. idk when it’s mentioned, but you said in an ask that ‘simon’s job when he’s home is just darling’ in that he shoulders taking care of her. which is so lovely and when she isn’t doing well it seems necessary, BUT i feel like its cruel long term. he almost sets her up to fail (not on purpose) bc he gives her all of the support and attention he can and then he goes basically no contact for an indeterminate amount of time in a very dangerous environment where he can’t guarantee he’ll ever come home, and when she falters without the crutch, he gets home and has to do so much legwork just for her to get back to “baseline”. and this repeats over and over and she never gets the opportunity to really take control of her own health and wellness.

i can’t see it working longterm if one or both of the boys stays on fieldwork, but i feel like simon talking to price was about getting to him to switch to deskwork but the Hand of Author God makes me feel like him switching wouldn’t have worked if bringing it up for the first time made everything so fucked up like this lmao. like, for this whole blowup to happen because she never let him finish his sentence to say “i’m switching off fieldwork” seems like too much of a consequence for it to be the ONLY problem with the plan

him being on deskwork fixes the on-off support with darling, but he’d probably be miserable and then johnny would be alone in the field without his support. and the 141 would be definitely kneecapped if half their team transitioned to deskwork, and i feel like there’s too much camaraderie for them to leave Price and Gaz high and dry like that

i think it’ll end up happy but not in the way that erases all of the issues that have been building. which sucks. but is very empowering to darling, to potentially see her get out of the cycle of hurt that honestly hurts MORE since it comes from such pure intentions. she loves her boys and they love her but it’s so hard on them all :’)))) maybe a few years down the line when she’s more solid and self-sufficient she could withstand the downsides of their job better, and maybe by then they’d be semi retired from age or injury anyways, but idk. then it starts to become simple math HAHAHA

id love for u to prove me entirely wrong and be like no actually the power of love fixes it all, they all get happy and pseudo married or whatever and no one is sad ever again but i feel like you’re not gonna do that lmfao

anyways hugs and kisses for this story its eating me alive HAHAHA

All I will say is happy endings are ✨ subjective ✨ but don’t resign yourself to anything, just wait and see 🖤

[likeastars]

Pss, hey! Ya got any of that *looks around* band au?

- totally not Not incorrect_nevermore why would you think that?

Omg hi Totally Not incorrect_nevermore!!!! I'm always happy to see new people in the fandom

ANYWAY YOU WANT SOME BAND AU UR GONNA GET UR BAND AU

We're gonna do 💫backstories💫 today

Annabel and Lenore are both from very very very very rich families

Like

Ceo levels

Lenore comes out tho and she gets cut off (and this is the MAX of angst I'll go with this we have enough in the comic itself) and this is when she meets Annie!!!!

Because.

Lenore's father asked her to be a straight good influence on her deviant daughter. (I lied. This is is the max angst lol) Yay!!!!!

But Annabel isn't all that straight so not so yay

She discovers it while she hangs out with Lenore and she goes "oh this will be a problem"

I feel Annabel's internalised homophobia would make them separate up and have a big fight but this is all in the past alright? The gays have done their drama we doth not care they are together they are dumbasses right now

When did all of this happen???? No idea. Zero. College? High school? No-one knows.

Annabel's parents support her music career but they're also in control of it at the beginning, so the more famous she gets the more power she strips fro mher parents and this point they're not even a problem

Wanting her own manager is one of the first liberties she takes and so her parents hire Ada as almost a joke because she has no prior experience but she's surprisingly competent????? Also one of Annabel's first fans

Prospero has always been her bf so the second he meets Ada he goes "lat me handle finance" and Ada falls instantly in love bc she thinks he's a gentleman but Prospero just doesn't trust her with money. Or math (sorry Ada wove u but ur too gay 4 dis)

Annabel currently also wants to become the owner of their company and Lenore is having Big Bad Thoughts about her gf in a suit and bossing ppl around but we'll skip over that

The Spectreless become famous a while after The White Lady but they BLOW UP.

I feel like Annabel would do a bit more mainstream music (always imagining her as Ariana Grande-esque) while Lenore more indie-rock this kind of stuff??? Like sir chloe but more dynamic

Theo taught her to play the guitar!!!! So she associated the guitar with good times and her brother (WHO IS ALIVE AND TRAUMATISED AT THE NEWS SHE'S FUCKING A BRIT WE'RE KEEPING THEO IN THIS) and the piano with coercion from her parents.

But also whatever she plays Annabel sings with her so she's learned to love them both at last.

AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST

Montresor also plays the guitar and Lenore always makes the same joke that "the only time any woman will say that he's skilled with his hands is when he plays the guitar" lol

Will is the tired assistant that runs around him

[jvngha]

hello everyone...!! i'm fifi ( she/her, 21+ ) and i bring to you jungha and hyoseop (zb1riize u are so special to me)! i would love love love to plot with everyone so please feel free to like this post and i'll jump straight into your ims! i always have a twitter and discord available upon request if you'd prefer to plot there!!

i'll start off by introducing my beloved muse, jungha! ex-almost-idol (newave 💔), current part-time tutor & delivery boy who's fluent in korean and ksl!

i have both his profile and bio available but you can find a tl;dr below the cut as well as some fun?? plot ideas!!

profile // bio

fluent in korean & korean sign language! both his father and older brother are deaf, so jungha communicates with them in ksl

really enjoyed music as a kid growing up and dreamt of becoming an idol. his parents, especially his dad was against the idea. they get into a large argument and jungha refuses to acknowledge his dad for weeks.

at 16, his mother passes away. he's devastated.

at 18, he auditions for a company and passes. his father is furious at him, and they fight yet again. they refuse to speak to each other, but only do so when his younger brother gets into big trouble at school. they communicate with one another and jungha's father finally laments, but he tells jungha that he will never truly support him.

he's a decent trainee! gets along well with the other trainees and staff and is known to be friendly and kind. they tell him that he's made the cut to join newave and that they'll be recording their pre-release song 'memories'. jungha is ecstatic. he feels like his dream is finally coming true.

he records memories, and thinks of how amazing it'll be once he finally debuts.

the dream is short-lived. he's pulled out of training one day, and it feels eerily similar to what had happened to him in school, the day his mother passed. the staff inform him that his father is in the hospital.

his dad is in need of a liver transplant, and urgently. he’d gone so long undiagnosed that even the doctors are surprised. jungha is there to sign the whole conversation, terrified by the information that he’s learning. his father had ignored his own ailment, had instead been working longer hours in an attempt to earn more money. jungha feels sick to his stomach.

the doctor explains to jungha that the fastest way to have his father go through the liver transplant is if either jungha or his younger brother decide to be the donor. jungha wastes no time to volunteering himself.

the doctor explains to him that he’ll have to run a few tests, but if the results come back as a match, it’s possible. but he also tells jungha that continuing the life of an idol trainee may be hard for the next few months. 

jungha will have to drop out of his company, he’ll have to throw away his one chance at debuting. surprisingly, his father is against the idea. refuses to allow jungha to do this. “you can’t throw away your dream because of me,” he signs. but jungha is stubborn.

it’s fine, he thinks. he’s fine with giving up his dream.

jungha drops out of the company, leaving behind his dream of becoming an idol. maybe it was never meant to be. 

the operation, thankfully, goes smoothly. his father never speaks of his idol dream again, but jungha knows that he carries a guilt that he can’t quite explain. he tells his father that it’s alright, jungha is happier this way too – with his father alive and well.

jungha is now a university student, as well as a part-time math tutor and delivery boy. his father continues making his monthly check-ups to the doctor, and jungha continues to strive for a better life.

plot ideas!!!

friends! jungha is really friendly. pretty selfless too, so he'd love to have friends! from uni, or highschool! depending on when they met, they would've known about jungha's stint at the idol life

people that dislike jungha. jungha isn't the type to easily dislike someone but maybe your muse doesn't sit right with him for some reason.

exes! fluff.... angst... anything really please give me exes...

one-sided crushes? jungha has a crush on your muse or your muse has a crush on jungha... maybe he's oblivious, maybe he's not!

newave members that trained with jungha!!

people that recognized jungha ( woah!! ) from the memories pre-release from the time when he was slated to debut with newave

delivery plots! jungha's a delivery boy so he could've delivered something to your muse and friendship ( or more?? ) grows from there!!

[professor-abeloved]

great walls tumbling down - a jocelyn x mc (reg custodio) fanmix | listen here

a playlist to listen to when you're playing gay chicken with a beautiful girl with bloody knuckles and heart of gold.

art by @hsaijou <3

tracklist (not in any particular order because these queers are messy)

kiss me more - doja cat (feat sza)

Can you kiss me more? We're so young, boy girl We ain't got nothin' to lose, oh, oh It's just principle Baby, hold me 'Cause I like the way you groove, oh, oh

everything is embarrassing - sky ferreira

Maybe if you let me be your lover Maybe if you tried then I would not bother Hurts so bad I don't know what you want from me You know I'm trying You know I'm trying

34+35 - ariana grande

Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight (yeah-yeah) 34, 35 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, 34, 35) Can you stay up all night? (Do you know what that mean?) Fuck me 'til the daylight (you know what that mean) 34, 35 (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) Yeah, yeah, yeah Means I wanna 69 wit' ya', no shit Math class, never was good

china - tori amos

China all the way to New York I can feel the distance getting close You're right next to me But I need an airplane I can feel the distance as you breathe Sometimes I think you want me to touch you How can I when you build a great wall around you In your eyes I saw a future together You just look away in the distance

cherry - rina sawayama

Even though I'm satisfied I lead my life within a lie Holding onto feelings I'm not used to feeling 'Cause, oh, they make me feel alive When they tell you that you've got to stay the same Even though you're not yourself And you've got somebody else When they tell you that you've got yourself to blame Even though it's not your fault But your heart just wants to know, know

gimme love - carly rae jepsen

Eyes so bright You got a hold of me the whole damn night I toss and turn but still I can't sleep right I should've asked you to stay, begged you to stay But when I get right next to you I hear this heart beat break in two I feel the earthquake in the room and so I pray Fall into me and then Gimmie love

brave - twice

In deeper wounds The rain that fell on my heart which never healed You make it stop before you know it, you are my only believer The dreamer who made me run a little farther I can hear you calling (Only you)

i like u - niki

I like you, I like you, I like you Sorry, I never meant to But who're we kidding, it wasn't like I had a say One look at you and I won't have it any other way I want you, I want you, I want you I want you to want me, too I know that I signed up for this casually But I fell for your tricks, I'm the casualty

closer - tegan and sara

Here comes the heat before we meet, a little bit closer Here comes the spark before the dark, come a little closer The lights are off and the sun is finally setting The night sky is changing overhead It's not just all physical I'm the type who won't get oh so critical So let's make things physical I won't treat you like you're oh so typical I want you close, I want you

california king bed - rihanna

Eye to eye (Eye to eye) Cheek to cheek (Cheek to cheek) Side by side You were sleeping next to me (Oh, next to me) Arm in arm Dusk to dawn With the curtains drawn And a little last night on these sheets So how come when I reach out my fingers It seems like more than distance between us?

seven - jung kook feat. latto

Weight of the world on your shoulders I'll kiss your waist and ease your mind I must be favored to know ya I'll take my hands and trace your lines It's the way that we can ride It's the way that we can ride (oh-oh, oh-oh) Think I met you in another life So break me off another time (oh-oh, oh-oh) You wrap around me and you give me life And that's why night after night I'll be lovin' you right

tokyo love hotel - rina sawayama

I don't wanna check into the Tokyo Love Hotel I just want your love all to myself

stray italian greyhound - vienna teng

This stray Italian greyhound These inconvenient fireworks This ice-cream-covered screaming hyperactive thought God, I just want to lay down These colors make my eyes hurt This feeling calls for everything that I am not I'm not that kind I'm so good at shooting down any notion This tired world could change It's all been bought Well at least that was my line No use in spending all that emotion when there's someone else to blame But you had to come along didn't you? Rev up the crowd Rewrite the rule book Where do I go when every no turns into maybe So what do I do with this?

[flieslikeamoron]

I have a playlist for Sleight of Hand and you can listen to it if you want. Is it at heart a conversation between Fiona Apple saying I'm too fucked up to love and Arctic Monkeys saying I just wanna be yours? Sure. But there are a lot of other songs too! I listed all the songs below for those that don't have spotify.

The Fic | The Playlist on Spotify

My Type - Saint Motel

And take a look around the room Love comes wearing disguises How to go about and choose? Break it down by shapes and sizes I'm a man who's got very specific taste

You're just my type Oh, you got a pulse and you are breathing

A Mistake - Fiona Apple

I'm gonna fuck it up again I'm gonna do another detour Unpave my path And if you wanna make sense What you looking at me for? I'm no good at math

Pick U Up - Adam Lambert

I'mma pick you up, I'mma pick u up We're gonna see where we can go This is how I live, this is what I give And you're the one I want to know All my life, I've been waiting Pass my time, procrastinating

Hey Pretty - Poe

I see a stairway so I follow it down Into the belly of a whale Where my secrets echo all around You know me now but to do better than that You've got to follow me Boy, I'm trying to show you where I'm at Hey pretty Don't you wanna take a ride with me?

When We're High - LP

When we're high Oh my God, you blow my mind So let's get high Live until we die You and I Let's just do it one more time (A million times) Let's get high Live until we die

R U Mine? - Arctic Monkeys

She's a silver linin', lone ranger ridin' through an open space In my mind, when she's not right there beside me I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be And satisfaction feels like a distant memory And I can't help myself All I wanna ever say is, "Are you mine?" Well, are you mine? (Are you mine tomorrow?) Are you mine? (Or just mine tonight?)

Temptation Waits - Garbage

I'll tell you something I am a demon Some say my biggest weakness I have my reasons Call it my defense Be careful what you're wishing You come on like a drug I just can't get enough I'm like an addict coming at you for a little more

Don't Talk to Strangers - Dio

Don't talk to strangers 'Cause they're only there to make you sad Don't dream of women 'Cause they'll only bring you down Run, run, run, run away

Indestructable - Welshly Arms

You're my blood rush Just out of touch Kills me inside But I feel so alive And now you got me like- I'm flashing like a red light But you know I'm gonna keep trying Why you gotta be so Indestructible Fire in your bones Nothing can touch you

Got Dynamite - Demi Lovato

Tell me what you've got to break down the walls Kick senseless my defense Tell me what your gonna do I need you to light the fuse Tell me what you've got to break down the walls You just might need dynamite

Stay Soft - Mitski

Just tell me what you want to do Tell me what you want To burn away 'Cause I could be your stoker

Open up your heart Like the gates of hell

You stay soft, get beaten Only natural to harden up You stay soft, get eaten Only natural to harden up

Left Alone - Fiona Apple

Oh, when I try to love I can love the same man in the same bed in the same city But not in the same room, it's a pity, but Oh, it never bothered me before Not 'til this guy, what a guy, oh God what a good guy And I can't even enjoy him 'Cause I'm hard, too hard to know

How can I ask anyone to love me When all I do is beg to be left alone

One Way or Another - Blondie

One way, or another, I'm gonna win ya, I'll get ya, I'll get ya

Straight Through the Heart - Dio

Never tell a secret with your eyes It's the eyes that let you down Tell a little truth with many lies It's the only way I've found

You Might Think - The Cars

You might think it's foolish This chancy rendezvous You might think I'm crazy All I want is you

Fast as You Can - Fiona Apple

O darling, it's so sweet You think you know how crazy How crazy I am You say you don't spook easy You won't go But I know And I pray that you will Fast as you can, baby Run, free yourself of me Fast as you can

I Want it All - Arctic Monkeys

Blind faith, heartache Mind games, mistakes My sweet fireball My sweet rigmarole I want it all

Runaway - Grace Potter & The Nocturnals

I hooked you with the beat The heavy heat gettin' out of hand And I loved you in a lonely bed The word you said made me understand That if I loved you, I would stay I'd never stray or runaway And I fall down, lonely night I can't fight but maybe I should pray Lord Give me the strength to stay 'Cause I always run away

It Will Come Back - Hozier

You know better, babe Than to smile at me, smile at me like that You know better, babe Than to hold me just, hold me just like that Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

To Your Love - Fiona Apple

My derring-do allows me to Dance the rigadoon around you But by the time I'm close to you I lose my desideratum and now you

Please, forgive me for my distance The pain is evident in my existence Please forgive me for my distance The shame is manifest in my resistance to your love

I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner Breathing in your dust I wanna be your Ford Cortina I will never rust If you like your coffee hot Let me be your coffee pot You call the shots, babe I just wanna be yours

Never Be Me - Miley Cyrus

If you're looking for someone to be all that you need That'll never be me (hard as I try) That'll never be me (I play with fire)

Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys

(Do I wanna know?) If this feelin' flows both ways? (Sad to see you go) Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay (Baby, we both know) That the nights were mainly made For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

Lights On - The Pierces

This won't get any easier now that your heart is beating in my hand And I'll try not to destroy you, baby, even though we both know I can Oh, you know I can

Make love with the lights on baby Tell me what you see Clear the bed to lie on darlin' Make a mess of me

FOOLS - Troye Sivan

And my hopes, they are high, I must keep them small Though I try to resist I still want it all

Little Bit - Lykke Li

Hands down I'm too proud for love But with eyes shut It's you I'm thinking of But how we move from A to B It can't be up to me 'cause I don't know Eye to eye, thigh to thigh I let go I think I'm a little bit, little bit A little bit in love with you But only if you're a little bit, little bit Little bit in love with me

Love Me More - Mitski

I need you to love me more Love me more, love me more Love enough to fill me up Fill me up, fill me full up I need you to love me more Love me more, love me more Love enough to drown it out Drown it out, drown me out

Raw Raw - K. Flay

You disarmed me, no defense My armor turned to sand It's hard to escape the wounds of the past Every time I feel something real, I wanna take it back

Sensitive, I'm peeling back my skin You got me raw, raw So emotional Raw, raw Oh, I feel exposed Chainsaw Buzzing at my throat Pressure building up inside my chest You pulled the stitches out again I feel the feelings creeping in You got me raw, raw

The One That You Love - LP

Try to be the fire for you, try to be the sun Try to be your home and the place that you come to Babe, I took my whole world and put it in your hands I'm really trying hard but I don't understand How to be the one that you love

Happiness - Black Keys

You got to do the thing you don't want doing Even if it's going to ruin what you had If what you had was bad Say the words you don't want saying Find the nerve to stop delaying Happiness

Respectable Dive - Rufus Wainwright

And baby I love you And I do not want to lose you But I'm not able to put my cards on the table And if you only knew of the hand that I'm holding You would be blushing And I am so far from bluffing

FistfIght - The Ballroom Thieves

They said love is grabbing blindly at a pit full of snakes And wait to feel the only heel among the rows of all the venomous teeth What did I do to deserve you? How did you find me? I was already halfway gone You were a bright light You were a fistfight

Tightrope - LP

We're just a step from fearless Reach out for me my dearest, don't you cry You don't know, you're almost near it

All this time You're just tryin' not to lose it You can always learn to fly You never do until you do it

Up high in the middle of nowhere Don't know but you know when you get there Walk slow and low on a tightrope Hope it lasts but you know, you never know

[wonderhoyman]

THEY OMORBIUS (yes i called it omorbius)

“bob is not real” -one of my friends when i showed a whole group the real world image

BASICALLY THE ENTIRE PLOT: This all happens after the events of Little Man 2 (go play/watch it rn so u know), except instead of Little Man dying of lead poisoning, he just passes out cold on the ground. He had to buy a whole new goddam house because of that, and now, to repress and pretend like nothing ever happened, he now lucid dreams of a world where everyone he held dearly is alive.

CHARACTER INFO (HEADSPACE):

Ron: A 12 year old who’s a charmer, but plays rough sometimes. Is Renory’s younger brother. Has a soft spot for Bob, is NOT willing to admit that to anyone. Takes Hero’s role.

Renory: A 16 year old who also plays rough, but more often and a little gentler. Is Ron’s older brother. Way too aware of surroundings sometimes. Takes Basil’s role.

Little Man: A 22 year old who is about 4-5 inches tall. Can scream as high as an E3, but only when necessary. Is Ron and Renory’s father. In Headspace, he rarely speaks perfect English, but does squeaks. Takes Omori’s role.

Shuttle Man: A 14 year old that is obsessed with badminton. He brings his racquet everywhere possible, and will refuse to move an inch without it. Is Ron and Renory’s half-cousin, but they consider each other cousins. Takes Kel’s role.

Bob: Ageless, but created the same year as Ron, so that technically makes him also 12. Provides food and rest for the party everywhere, and is confined to a picnic table. Is Ron’s love interest (don’t kill me y’all). Takes Mari’s role.

Opheebop: Same excuse as Bob for the age. Targets a lot of insults and harsh words at Ron, but sometimes they’re just a joke or sarcasm. Basically Ron’s frenemy, and Bob’s ex. Takes Aubrey’s role.

CHARACTER INFO (REAL WORLD):

Little Man: A 27 year old who now has a less angrier face, and is still drinking alcohol. He has not come out of the house for 5 years, if you haven’t done the math. Has Ronthing and Bob. Takes Sunny’s role.

Renory: A 21 year old with cool shades, and tried to feel better by getting jacked. He constantly checks on Little Man, just to make sure he’s sill alive. Has Ronthing. Takes Basil’s role.

Shuttle Man: A 19 year old with the same attitude as ever 5 years ago, but more mature. Also checks on Little Man outside the front door. Poor Shuttle Man… getting locked out even with his own home. Has neither Ronthing or Bob, but is aware that Little Man had something to do with Ron’s death. Takes Kel’s role.

Opheebop: Still the same excuse as Headspace Bob for the age, which technically makes her 17. Holds a grudge on Shuttle Man and Renory. Unaware of how Ron & Bob died. (clueless) Takes Aubrey’s role.

Bob: Guess what? Same excuse for the age, making him 17. Eyes are closed 24/7, yet still all-seeing. Looks the exact same, but a little more gray. (somehow) Died of heartache after Opheebop broke up with them. Takes Mari’s role, side-by-side with Ron.

Ron: A 17 year old who is monochrome and wears the same clothing the day Ron got crushed under a piece of rubble during the events of Little Man 2. Takes Mari’s role, side-by-side with Bob. (confusing, right?)

[elysianslove]

Hewwooo! This ask just came into my mind and I wanted to share. So Yuuji has a girlfriend that is a civilian and at first Sukuna is annoyed by her but as time passed he starts to take a like on her since she's always so nice to him despite him being a curse. And he's just so confused about his feelings because him being the king of curses falling for a weakling? Ridiculous. I want to read your interpretation of this idc if its hcs or scenario. Do whatever you like❤

hi my love!! i really hope you like this!! i made it into headcanons so i can go over a larger span of time more smoothly, so i hope that’s okay!

i’m getting so many sukuna requests hell yes 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️

okay so let’s make it that you’re yuuji’s gf from before he ate sukuna’s finger ( yeah btw wtf is up with your bf ??? )

he called you as soon as they’d announced the death of his grandpa, because it had felt like you were the last family he had left. seriously you’re his whole world

you’re there when megumi starts explaining stuff about how this finger’s super dangerous and people will die you and yuuji are like 😃✋🏼 wha 

but also so unbothered bc he can’t be serious

turns out he is serious laugh out loud

yuuji makes you go home as you’re at the school gate and you’re like mf what??? no???? i’m not leaving you?? 

he ends up making you wait and then he just never comes back

megumi explains everything to you 

but again you’re like 😃✋🏼 pause wtf 

you keep texting him and calling him and he’s not responding you’d be angry at him if you weren’t so fucking worried 

and so eventually he finds you again 

after eating sukuna’s second finger (again, what the fuck sir) 

now megumi had told you he was now like ? possessed ? by a curse? it sounded like gibberish to you tbh and it was the last thing you were thinking about when you finally saw him again

all that mattered was that he was okay and alive and in your arms 

you’ve never hugged him tighter tbh 

so anyways ! yuuji does not want you to meet sukuna 

like ever 

but when he meets you one day really frustrated from a mission, you ask him about it, and he just vents out everything to you. he tells you how the responsibility can be so overwhelming sometimes, and how sukuna can be so infuriating and you can’t imagine what it must be like having this guy in your head 

and then you just go 

“can i meet him?” 

at first he’s like absolutely not ma’am are u insane 

but then you convince him, telling him you trust him and reminding him he has control 

so he shifts 

you really were expecting something horrendous like seriously you were anticipating fainting from fear 

he’s just your bf 

with a rougher edge 

you like instantly relax 

even if this guy’s expressions are nothing like yuuji’s, you remind yourself that it’s still yuuji inside, no matter what 

“i like your — tats?” 

what do you even say to a curse??? 

he’s scowling at you so much you might piss yourself but you just repeat constantly that he can’t hurt you 

“you disgust me,” he spits out

yuuji shifts back so quick, and just groups you on his arms 

“that wasn’t me, i swear,” he says to you and you have to calm him down and tell him it’s okay !!  it’s not his fault the guy’s an ass 

now! yuuji’s pretty comfortable with your level of physical affection 

in fact, he loves it so much. it’s one of his favorite things about you. 

so he’s always welcoming an embrace from his favorite person in the world, but it’s so hard to ignore sukuna’s words in his mind repeatedly saying how this is so revolting 

he tries his best to pay him no attention 

sometimes y’all will be cuddling and a mouth appear somewhere on yuuji’s body and it’ll say “get ur hands off my vessel human!” and ngl

it always makes you laugh

like how comical is that

eventually, over time, the hugs are 

kinda nice, sukuna realizes 

like he’s a thousand year old cursed spirit

he’s not really gotten any affection yk 

like ever 

and it’s not that he ever wanted it

but being with you

or well, him possessing yuuji and yuuji being with you and you being with him through transitive property (thank you grade 7 math)  

it really like softens him

kinda 

a little bit 

like the tiniest bit 

some part of him, he probably thinks it’s yuuji and not even him and that he’s just confused but really some part of him grows to anticipate the hugs 

and when you kiss yuuji 

god

your mouth feels so good he wants to feel it for himself 

it’s like angering him how you’re growing onto him, so he asks yuuji to shift them 

and they do shift

you’re a little surprised bc yuuji gave u like a 3 sec warning before those familiar markings appeared on his skin

“i never thought i’d see you again,” you admit. 

and he just kisses you 

like full on the mouth 

no warning

you pull him back in shock, and rest a hand on his shoulder to keep a distance between you two

“i don’t know where this is coming from but it doesn’t feel right, sukuna.” 

and you’re just

you’re just so nice

why are you so nice???

“i love yuuji, so much, and even though you’re sharing a body you’re still a whole other person. it feels wrong.” 

god why are you so good? it’s infuriating???? 

yuuji shifts back, starts apologizing again like the first time

“you have to stop apologizing for something someone else did, babe.” 

when he’s alone with sukuna that night he’s like dude, dude, bro, my man — we gotta talk boundaries bc wtf

sukuna just goes “not fair u get to kiss her” 

like yeah??? she’s my girlfriend tf ???? 

so sukuna resorts to watching (or feeling) from the sidelines again

as he grows more and more affectionate towards you 

until he’s just as protective over you as yuuji is

until he realizes that 

what yhe fuck

maybe he has feelings for you because, one of the main things about you is that the two times you’ve encountered him, you’ve never treated him like a curse. even if being treated human was once considered belittling to him, having you dote on him like that, speak to him as softly

it made his brain go brrrr 

so he asks yuuji one day, “can i kiss your gf” 

like that’s something you just casually ask

took a lotta convincing but eventually yuuji says “if she says yes then okay” 

it takes like 

90 minutes for both you and yuuji to decide that you’re okay with it. sukuna’s like fuck it ion wanna anymore lmfao

but anyways 

yuuji shifts into him 

and 

he doesn’t even wait the impatient mf 

he just kisses you so suddenly, cupping your neck and tugging at your hair like damn how long has he been wanting to do this

clearly way longer than even he thought 

after that yuuji doesn’t exactly share you, but yeah he’ll let sukuna kiss you every now and then

sukuna’s still not fully accepting of his feelings towards you, but he learns to appreciate you

especially your kindness towards him and yuuji, and the tenderness of your touch 

he never would’ve seen it coming when he awoke in this teenage boy’s body, but he can admit that you’re definitely an added benefit

[spitfire-of-the-sea]

Whatever it takes

Always salty about how Marineford went and how *conveniently* all the commanders were occupied and no single other WB/Spade Pirate seemed to be around, I plan on writing an Ace lives A/U. Naturally.

Nobody can tell me the (former) Spade Pirates wouldn't go to any length to save their captain or that he'd have gathered a crew that's not willing to give everything for him. Or is weaker than all the other Supernova crews. It's the hill I'll die on, if I have to!

It's a crew that traveled the whole Grand Line AND New World with him. If they weren't badass in their own right, they'd never have made it to Wano or Whitebeard.

Angsty little piece set in the hours before the Moby Dick reaches Marineford; promises are made.

It’s in the dark of night that they meet with only the light of a few slowly dying candles to keep them company. It’s a full moon but here, hundreds of meters below the waves, they can’t see it and they are left in darkness with no glimpse at even the nightly reflection of the sun. They come in one by one, quietly and with downcast eyes, and settle around the little old table with heavy limbs and even heavier hearts as if it is their last supper. Perhaps it is.

The little flames paint shadows on their faces, flickering in a cheery little dance as if these aren’t the last hours before their very last chance at saving the world. Saving their world.

None of them speaks, none finds the words just yet. It’s only hours until the sun will rise and less than twelve hours before the time of execution and they hear the clock ticking, every single one of them. Their eyes are on the little glass vial in the middle of the table, fragile and tiny, and the quickly burning paper within it. More than half is gone already, burned to ash, and all that’s left is singed and smoldering and they can watch it fall apart piece by piece. Slowly. Surely. With it, their hearts fall apart. It shouldn’t hurt this much, this little paper, but it hurts worse than any wound ever could.

“Did you bring it?” Saber asks eventually, his voice hoarse and gruff, his eyes unmoving.

Deuce slowly puts a bag on the table and then begins to take out syringe after syringe, slowly, methodically, as if it pains him. Perhaps it does. “There’s only five. I couldn’t make more.” On the table are four, one he keeps for himself. There is no argument there. “Do not use it if you have any other option. Any other option. It will keep you going for a few more minutes if worse comes to worst.”

His hand clamps around Saki’s when she reaches out and her fingers touch one of the syringes. “In those minutes, you will not feel any pain and the adrenaline will keep you from crashing. The pain will come back multiplied when it wears off. The shock of it might kill you. You also won’t feel when you need to stop, all pain receptors are blocked. You might not feel a lethal wound. Using it… it might well kill you.” He lets go of her and her hand curls around the syringe, taking it without hesitation.

“Whatever it takes,” she says, quietly.

Saber takes the next one, and then Aggie and Wallace. The others hold back, their hands shaking with restraint. It’s all math. Percentages of likelihood. Those that have the highest chance to get close to him get the trump cards. They’ve been over the calculations, again and again, trying to come up with a plan like they have so often in the past. A plan that will make a miracle happen. They have only one, it’s simple, really. Fight with everything you’ve got, teeth and claw.

“Inject it into muscle – any muscle. It will work within seconds,” Deuce says. And then, into the silence: “Do not use it if you have any other option. We get out of there alive, all of us, you hear me?”

He gets no answer, nobody dares to make that promise. They’re going to war and they’re willing to go to whatever length they need to. One for all. All for one. He’d do the same for them without a single thought of hesitation. He has done the same for them already, countless times.

Silence settles over them for a moment and then, with an impossibly loud thud, Saki sets her hand down in the middle of the table, and when she lifts it, 6 little balls are sitting there, shimmering in the candlelight, onyx with a faint emerald glimmer. “These are seastone bullets,” she says, not more. Those that have been with them since the East Blue know exactly where they come from, know their meaning, know they’ve traveled the Grand Line with them all the way since back then. She takes one and holds it up into the light. Her hand is painted against the wall as she rolls it between her fingers. “Strong enough to keep logias in their solid forms. Standard mold. Do not waste them on anybody lower than Vice-Admiral, these are the only ones we have.” She places it back down but doesn’t let go of it.

“No frontal shots,” Mihar tells them, taking one. “Each single one of them will be able to evade your shots if he is aware of them. Use the chaos. Do not give away that this is seastone – load other bullets before this one. Bluff. They might not bother trying to evade it, especially the logias.”

Deuce takes another one, fisting it carefully. “Don’t give it away too early. We’ll need them.”

Saber rolls one over to Mihar. “Take two. You’ve got the best chances to land a hit on any of them. You’ve got no bounty, they won’t be watching you.” Mihar takes it, nodding slowly, and then looks up to Saki. Her face is hidden in the shadows, he can’t read her expression. “Want me to load a pistol for you?”

Her hand twitches and then she lifts it and drops the bullet into his hand. “Yes.” She’s no pistol wielder, not usually, but she’s the most likely to get close enough. Math and percentages, they’ve thought it through. The sheets of paper are still lying somewhere on a table, strewn out and filled with scribbles.

Kotatsu growls, unhappy and restless, and circles the table. Hands reach out to run over his head, his side, his back. “Sorry, boy.” He knows he can’t use any of it, and he hates it, feels his claws itch, and his blood curl with the need to tearripbreak.

Aggie grabs another bullet, and Skull the last one. They weigh heavy in their hands, heavy with old blood and traces of treacherous hope. Even after almost three years they still stink of clipped wings and chains.

One candle gives up then, the little flame dying in a matter of seconds and allowing darkness to creep closer. The others are burning dangerously low and threaten to plunge them into darkness in a matter of minutes, a problem they never had to face before. With him, their captain, they didn’t mind when a light puffed out because he was there and they never went without a guiding flame, not even in the middle of a storm. Never before was the threat of night so real, the threat of all the things that go bump in the night being let loose.

“Did everybody memorize the pictures and abilities of the Admirals and Vice-Admirals I put together?” Skull asks, his voice muffled against his mask. They nod, some don’t say anything. They’ve been over the images and information several times on their way here, they know who they’re up against. They know how slim their chances are. Slim, but not zero.

Silence presses down on them again as they sit there and don’t dare to look at each other, afraid to break first. It is Saki who stands up first and doesn’t look at any of them as she moves around the table, unable to leave and yet unable to stay still any longer. “Remember, we need to keep the commanders safe. They have the highest chances of reaching and freeing Ace. Stay in the teams we discussed and keep their backs free.”

“I am sure they will try to use seastone to stop Pops, Marco, and Jozu. Keep a close eye, make sure no sniper catches them by surprise,” Skull added as if they hadn’t already been over it a dozen times. Chairs are scraping as some of them get up, and others stay seated.

Aggie’s voice is quiet when he speaks: “What if we’re too weak? What if we can’t get to him?” It quivers ever so slightly as he sits there, hunches over, the bullet clutched to his chest. His eyes are squeezed shut, light reflecting off a tear he can’t hold back.

“That’s not an option.” Saki turns around and looks them over and then makes her way to a shelf, blindly grabbing for a bottle and flicking the lid off. “This is it. No more weakness. We are what we are and we do everything we can. We will get him out of there, we will free him.”

Deuce slowly comes to stand next to her and turns to look back toward the table. Both their faces are unreadable, the dying flame reflected in their eyes. “We’ll get Ace back.” He takes the bottle from her hand and lifts it to his lips, taking a big gulp. He grimaces as it slides down his throat, burning, scalding. “Whatever it takes.”

She takes it back from him, takes a swig, and then passes it on before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes hard. “Whatever it takes.”

It’s a promise they make, one by one, in a little room deep in the bowels of a ship that carries them towards the hour of dawn.

[in-tua-deep]

idk if you still do au ideas but what if delores was a real person in the apocalypse? how it woul dbe done i have no idea but i love all your aus and thought it would be cool

okay okay I don't tend to go for real!Dolores aus admittedly because I find her much more compelling as what she is: a reflection of five himself and a symptom of his crushing loneliness

but i started thinking about it and you know what?? i think five deserves a little socialization, as a treat

so say like, 0.5% of the population is resistant to abilities. Allison would really struggle to rumor them, Five wouldn't be able to jump with them, and, most importantly, whatever the fuck Vanya's ability does has like, reduced damage or something

and the og apocalypse isn't the moon apocalypse, so let's say that it was pure waves of Vanya's powers that fucked over the earth

so 0.5% of the population survives the apocalypse. though, let's be honestly, the real number is a lot smaller than that. People who might have survived Vanya's initial power wave (miraculously) did not survive buildings crushing them or survive the car/plane/bus/train/other transportation crashes or survive being left alone when they are too young to reliably look after themselves, or the variety of other problems that come with 99.5% of the population dying at once

So, Five arrives in the apocalypse and is met with ruin and fire and a whole lot of dead people. He finds his siblings, but it doesn't matter. They're dead. He doesn't even recognize them at first, these strange grown-ups who he identifies not by their faces but by the umbrellas on their wrists that match his own

As he realizes the full impact of his situation, he hears a voice that says, very succinctly, "holy shit!"

It's a girl a few years older than Five himself, maybe 15 or 16, and she is very excited to see another survivor.

And here's where I u-turn this au around bc i'm not all that interested in real!Dolores, but I would be down to talk about Five meeting survivors in the apocalypse, because if Dolores is real I don't buy no one else survived.

So Dolores shows up and see a Literal Child crying over the corpses of his family and assumes that Five is a fellow survivor, and she immediately grabs him up. Five is incoherent with grief at this point anyway, so he doesn't even protest when she basically hauls him away from the bodies. She's babbling at him, but he doesn't really hear anything she's saying

And then she takes him to her dad

(Why not, let's have the 1% potentially be a heritable thing)

and her dad, let's call him just some dad name. like Rick. it has been a fucking WEEK for him, okay. he had his daughter with him, his ex-wife is on the other coast for her work, and by some miracle he survived the apocalypse and so did his child, and he's been wracking his brains trying to figure out what the fuck to do next

and then his daughter shows up with a traumatized thirteen-year-old in tow

now rick is a good dude. he's a dad. they get out of five that his name is five ("what the fuck" dolores mouths to him over five's shoulder and rick can't help but agree) and the bodies he found were his siblings ("Dad and Ben and Vanya weren't there though," this child cries desperately and rick feels his own heart clench in response, "They might still be alive!")

"We can look for them." Rick assures his new adopted child, because he is an adult in a fresh apocalypse and this kid has presumably lost everything he's ever known (more than rick even knows at the time)

and they do. They each get wagons and they go out and find supplies and look for other survivors. Five is... surprisingly helpful and also surprisingly docile as he is able to rely on Someone Else to give orders while he attempts to (dissociate) process what the fuck has happened

and here's the thing: Five prides himself on being independent, sort of. He's independent for a child soldier, but he's used to taking orders from a male authority figure and Rick happens to be just that

The first time that Five does something dangerous and Rick yells is a revelation

(Rick isn't sure if he hopes that Five's dad is alive or not, because if they find that man alive then Rick might just kill the jackass himself. Also like, Five is bizarrely knowledgeable out survival skills, like way too knowledgeable about it, which is helpful for them but also very concerning)

they find a newspaper and Five finds the article that mentions his father's recent death ("Huh. Heart attack." Five says, and there is no emotion in his voice)

(Years later, years later, Five and Rick talk. "I don't think I wanted to find him, either." Five admits, softly because Dolores is asleep, "I think I was more scared of finding him alive than I was of finding his body. He would've been so mad at me, I think.")

this newspaper is how Rick and Dolores find out about Five being Number Five, Umbrella Academy Missing Person

"Dude, what the fuck." Dolores says, wide eyes, "You're like, thirty?"

"I'm thirteen." Five says, and then checks the date on the newspaper again, "Also I think I would technically be 29 if I lived through all of it, 'cause it's April and my birthday is in October."

"You... time travelled?" Rick asks, which is honestly the more relevant question, "Can you go back?"

And Five just,,, crumples on himself. Because he tried, he tried really hard. It didn't work. "I'm gonna figure it out. I'm gonna go back, I'm going to save them."

That, Rick thinks, is a lot of weight to put on one person's shoulders, but especially the shoulders of a child.

"Alright." Rick says, because what else can he say after finding out his new child has superpowers and is from like, 2004? "What do you need?"

("Oh my god I have so many memes to teach you." Dolores says later, reverently. Five blinks in confusion and Rick mentally prepares himself for the recitation of so many vines)

And it's easier, somehow. Five sometimes feels like it's a betrayal, but he settles into apocalypse life with an ease that surprises him.

He lets Rick fuss over him and help tie his scarf securely around his head every morning before he sets off on supply runs with Dolores. And they're kids! Five has never had a friend before, and Dolores is funny and smart and she's struggling just as much as he is.

"I don't know if my mom's alive." She says to him, in solidarity when he checks the face of every corpse to see if they're Vanya.

Five is practical in the way only a child soldier can be. He's economical with the room in their wagons, carefully examining what might and what might not be useful.

Dolores, on the other hand, constantly takes up space with what Five sees as useless shit.

"Excuse you," Dolores says, shoving a game of monopoly, the entire discworld series, and a pack of glitter gel pens into her wagon, "These are absolutely vital apocalypse supplies."

She challenges him, plays with him in a way no one ever has. "I bet you I can find more batteries today than you can," She grins at him, "Winner gets to pick dinner first?"

"You're on." Five says, directly before Dolores pulls two packs of 24 AA batteries from behind her back, like a cheat.

Dolores makes him take a ten minute break when they find a playground that has been mostly not-destroyed. They rummage around kids backpacks and mother's handbags for some good loot, too numb to corpses to even be bothered all that badly about the corpses they belong to.

"I'm getting on the swings." Dolores says when Five starts making noises about moving on, "I haven't been on a swingset in ages."

"What's the point?" Five grumps.

"Don't be sour because you can't swing as high as I can!" Dolores laughs, getting higher and higher as the swings creak ominously.

Five grumpily gets into the other swing and grudgingly kicks himself back and forth until Dolores takes pity on him and teaches him how to properly move his legs and body to get higher and higher.

Dolores jumps from the swing seat and lands with a flourish and smile. Five jumps out of his seat and then jumps, warping right in front of Dolores and making her yell and hit at him in outrage. Five smiles the widest he has all week.

This is how Five grows up in the apocalypse, with Dolores teasing him into taking breaks and leaning over his shoulder to look at his math and scandalizing him by stating that she'd only just started on matrices in her own high school math class.

Every night they huddle around Rick while he picks up whatever book Dolores picked out that day because it is a travesty that Five has never read hunger games or whatever, and then they read together because it would be a genuine blood bath if they all took turns. The first time Five accidentally mentioned a spoiler and Dolores genuinely considered murder was the birthday of this tradition

Some days the air is too smoky or there are dust storms or it's just plain too dangerous to go out, and they all stay in. Dolores regales Five with stories about public school, and Five tells them about his siblings.

Then they all cry

"I shouldn't be crying." Five sobs.

"Shut the fuck up," Dolores sobs back, "You literally watched me lose my shit over remembering my shitty eighth grade dance and listened to me sob-sing toxic for like four hours."

"In fairness I also wished you would shut up then."

"Let me hug you or I will start singing songs that I only remember the chorus for again you absolute fucker."

"I could always sing some -"

"No, Rick/Dad."

And Five grows up. Rick shows him how to shave very carefully in front of cracked mirrors. Dolores teases him every time his voice cracks. Rick tells Five in no uncertain terms that he loves and cares for him, and that Reginald was a little bitch. There are a lot of heartfelt conversations around that, honestly. Rick telling Five that he and the siblings deserved better, that they were children and deserved to have a childhood.

And that he has faith in Five. Rick and Dolores both do, they bring him back paper and pens and pencils and chalk and anything Five can use to write equations. They poke around any libraries for books on theoretical mathematics and quantum physics. Rick and Dolores go out scouting for food while Five stays home and can work longer.

They also make him take breaks, make sure that he's looking after himself.

They're a little better off than OG!Five when it comes to food, because some animals survive. Enough that Rick figures out how to hunt. Five is the first one to each bugs, and even though Dolores makes faces they all start eating bugs as well.

"Pretty sure there's loads of cultures that eat bugs." Rick says grudgingly, wondering if he should try stirfry the cockroaches and if that would improve the taste. "There's even, uh, cricket flour or whatever, right?"

"Plus you eat like, five spiders a year when you're asleep." Dolores says cheerfully, just to watch her dad's face scrunch up in displeasure.

"That doesn't sound true, but I don't know enough about spiders to dispute it." Five mutters, and Dolores gives him such a proud look that it makes him roll his eyes.

They're in their thirties when Rick dies. He's out foraging and hunting, and the rubble he's standing on gives way and he ends up with a gash in his leg. He manages to stop the bleeding, but the world is filthy and they don't have any antibiotics.

He gets an infection.

"It's okay." He tells both of his kids, "It's okay. I'm just so glad that you guys have each other, y'hear? I'm so glad."

"It's not okay." Five says, voice thick and choked, "It's not."

"Yeah, well, you're going to figure out how to go back, right? Go back in time and save everyone. Then I'll have never died, right?" Rick smiles, "And even if you don't, I'll be waiting for you on the other side and we'll see each other again anyway."

"I'm going to fix it."

"I know. I have faith in you, Five." Ricks says honestly, and that's more than Reginald ever said.

They sit quietly together while Dolores is out scavenging. They've been taking turns sitting with Rick.

"I won't remember you, in the past, will I?" Rick says rhetorically, but Five answers anyway.

"I don't think so."

Rick hums, "Well, doesn't matter. If you need help in the past, you come to me, y'hear?"

"You won't remember me."

"Doesn't matter. You come find me, and you tell me your crazy story until I believe you, and then I'll help you." Rick says firmly, "You're family. You're my son. Timelines? Don't matter. If you need help, with anything, even if it's just with - with filling out a bowling team or something -"

"I have never been bowling in my life and you know it." Five interrupts, but it makes him laugh just a little bit which was clearly Rick's intention.

"Well who knows what you'll get up to in the past! You'll be able to go bowling, you know. Get to wear those uncomfortable shoes. Hey, you go far enough back maybe you can go to Dolores's tenth birthday party and put me out of my misery."

"Was she bad at bowling?"

"Oh, she was wiping the floor with me. No contest."

"Honestly, that sounds absolutely accurate."

"Shut up, bowling just wasn't my sport. Regardless, the point was that I'm giving you a free pass to come and get me. Because I know you, I know how you think." Rick brings up his hand to tap his finger against Five's forehead, "You get it into your head that you need to go it alone, take it all on your shoulders. I'm telling you that if you do that I'll somehow manifest my memories and come smack you over the head for being stupid, you hear?"

"I'm not dragging you into anything." Five says firmly, "I'll have my siblings."

"Who were also children." Rick points out. "And dragging? Dragging is such a strong word for a volunteer."

"A volunteer who won't remember volunteering." Five shoots back.

Rick just shrugs, and then winces when the movement jolts his bad leg. "Five, I'm going to be honest with you here. And sappy. Can you handle a bit of sappiness for a minute?"

"No."

"Well too bad. Can't leave a dying man, you'd feel too bad. So you're stuck with me. But you listen good, okay? Because you aren't dragging me into anything. Whatever life you have, I want to have a part of that. Because you're my son. Wherever you are, whatever you do, I want to help because you're family. What you'd be doing by leaving me out of it is depriving me of someone I love, depriving me of knowing one of the best kids I've ever known."

"Shut up." Five says, choked.

"Nope, it's sappy time." Rick states, "Maybe asking you to come find me is selfish, but I don't care. No matter what version of me exists, I want to be in your life."

"My life is a walking joke, why would you want any part of that?"

"It has been my privilege to watch you grow up. To help you. To be here for you. Of course I'd want to be there to watch you grow up the rest of the way."

"But -"

"Shut up, just let me tell you that I am so proud of you. You never give up, and your heart is so big. You love so much and so loudly, and it's been the highest honor of my life to be included in your family."

Five pauses for a moment to collect himself before simply saying - "You're the best dad I've ever had."

Rick snorts, "Considering my competition, I'd sure hope so. That bar was so low old Reggie was practically limbo dancing with the devil. Now get over here and give an old man a hug."

They don't bury Rick, when he dies. They don't have time and the ground is too hard and they don't have the heart to move him. Instead the pack everything up and seal him in the shelter they'd lived in.

Dolores pulls out a bottle of ancient nail polish and painstakingly writes Rick's name on the wall with his birth year and an approximate current year. They aren't 100% sure though, since time blends together out in the apocalypse, but it's something.

They continue by themselves. They get older.

Dolores jokingly calls him her husband because the way his face scrunches up makes her cackle. They see other people very occasionally, usually passing through. Usually groups. Dolores and Five get to flex their hosting skills, though more than one group declines their cockroach stirfry.

("It's a family recipe." Five says with amusement in his eyes that usually manages to drown out old grief.)

"Jeeze, that kid couldn't have been older'n twenty-three." Dolores complains, "Makes me feels positively ancient."

"They wouldn't have known any world 'cept for the apocalypse." Five muses, pouring some boiled water into wine glasses because they might be living in the apocalypse but they can be fancy.

"Do you ever think about that?" Dolores asks, turning to him with no judgement, just curiosity. "When you go back, you'll be like, erasing them from existence."

Five shrugs, "Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe this place will just split off into an alternate timeline."

"Maybe none of this is real." Dolores says, amusement coloring her voice. "Maybe you aren't talking to a real person at all. Maybe this is just a symbol of your insanity and cracked mind."

"Dolores, I literally have a scar where you stabbed me. Did I somehow manage to stab myself in the back?"

"Scraped you, I scraped you. By accident."

"So you maintain." Five says haughtily, swirling his water in his wine glass like a pretentious prick.

"I could totally be fake. You don't know my life."

"I know way too much about you, Dolores. Like, way way too much." Five scoffs, because Dolores and him have literally no secrets from one another at this point. Five even knows the truth behind what happened at Janet Scranton's thirteenth birthday party. Like, he said, way too much.

"Maybe you made it up. Maybe that's why you know so much."

"Dolores, I'm going to be honest with you right now." Five presses the tips of his fingers to his chin, "If you were a figment of my imagination, you would be so much better at math."

"Hey!" Dolores squawks indignantly, "I didn't even get to finish high school you pretentious prick!"

"Neither did I!"

"You didn't even go to high school, you brat."

"I'm fifty-two I think I've outgrown 'brat.'"

"Tell that to your attitude." Dolores says haughtily, "You're still younger than me."

"Won't be when I go back in time." Five says cheerfully, completely ignoring Dolores's venomous look.

"That's cheating."

"Sucks to suck." Five says loftily, taking another sip of his water.

Sometimes they talk about The Plan, with capital letters. What Five is going to do when he goes back in time, depending on when he pops out. Is he going to adopt his siblings? What about Reginald?

"You don't think I could kill Reginald?" Five says, holding a hand to his chest in mock offense.

"I think you should let me do it. I'll even give you control of tonight's music if you do."

"What are you doing to do? Bite his ankles? What if you're like, seven or something?"

"All the better to get away with it since I'll be too young to convict or whatever."

"Pretty sure that's not how the law works."

"How would you know? Just for that I'm playing Istanbul on repeat again."

"I don't know why you think that's a threat. That song slaps."

It takes a few more years before Five is close enough that the Commission comes to interfere. Because that's what I think happened - Five was getting too close and they stepped in because they might as well distract the man as much as they can with missions, right?

So the Handler shows up. And she offers Five a job, telling him that they have the ability to travel through time. And Five - hesitates.

"Give me some time?" Five asks, and the Handler graciously gives him 24 hours.

And he and Dolores talk it over, because now that his goal is more in sight than it has ever been and Five is scared.

"What are you waiting for? You have the chance to see your siblings again." Dolores says patiently.

"Yeah," Five says, and what he doesn't say is clear. But I won't see you.

"Five." Dolores says, and she cradles his face between her palms like he is something precious, "I have had so much time with you already. More than I would have ever. We have been so lucky, to have this time. How can I demand more than what we have already been given?"

"When have you ever not demanded the world, Dolores?" Five asks, his own hand coming up to cover Dolores's own.

"We've had decades together, Five. We're getting old. I was always going to lose you, one way or another. Nothing lasts forever."

"I don't want to lose you."

"I know. But if I had to choose a way, if I could decide where our story ends, this would be it. Letting you go, because this way you get to live. You get to see your family again. You get to save the world. I could ask for nothing more than for you to get your happy ending."

Five removes Dolores's hand from his cheek so that he can cradle it between them, "I'm happy here with you. I've never been happier. Isn't that silly? That I was happier in the apocalypse?"

"I bet killing Reggie would make you happy." Dolores laughs rustily.

"One day you're going to see the mysterious disappearance of a famous billionaire in the paper and feel a twinge of satisfaction and now have a clue why." Five laughs as well, shaking his head.

Dolores pats Five's hands, "Five, look at me. We've had our time. And you're going to give me even more of it. More time with my father. More time with my mother. I'll never know it, but you'll have saved me."

"What if this is - what if this is an alternate reality? What if I leave you here alone?"

"Then you'll be saving a 15-year-old girl from the same fate as me. Because as much as I love you, as much as I have loved this time we have had together, this is still an apocalypse. This should never have happened, and if you have a chance to go back and prevent it, then I want you to take that chance with both hands."

"Even if it means leaving you alone?"

Dolores smiles at him, "I'm not going to be alone. Far too many creepy crawlies in the apocalypse for that."

"Shut up, I'm being serious."

"Hmm." Dolores hums consideringly, "Maybe I'll head North, to that new settlement that last group said they'd heard word of. Sure they'd find some use for an old woman who's survived this long in the wilderness."

"You can have my half of the record collection." Five says, pulling her against him into a hug that she easily returns.

"As if I wouldn't have stolen them as soon as you left." She scoffs, but it's a little wet, and Five pretends his own eyes aren't leaking tears.

When The Handler comes back, Dolores gives him another hug. She also slips something into his pocket - some photos. They'd taken it a year into the apocalypse, when Dolores had found an ancient looking polaroid camera and towed it home despite Five's protests about practicality. The photos are worn and faded at the edges, but the smiles on Five's little apocalypse family's faces are undeniable.

"You'll have to see if they magically fade when you change the timeline." Dolores whispers to him with a grin, "Like in the movies."

"Okay." Five whispers back.

"You have the list of movies to watch, right?" Dolores says. Five rolls his eyes and nods because he wrote the list last night into his Vanya-book while Dolores hovered over his shoulder and critiqued his handwriting.

"And you promise to try a proper non-expired twinkie at some point?"

"That I do not promise. I think even looking at one would make me lose my lunch. I have twinkie-trauma."

"Shut up and get going." Dolores says, because the Handler is starting to tap her foot impatiently.

And off Five goes to become an assassin. Though - he's much more gentle this time. He's careful, he doesn't kill children and he usually takes jobs that don't require killing at all. He distracts and manipulates events as much as he can without killing.

He's actually much more well socialized, thanks to Rick and Dolores. Less feral child and more determined man on a mission.

Which is why he's so frustrated when he finally, finally manages to get the equations to work and falls through and falls - directly back into his stupid thirteen-year-old body.

"Shit." Five says, loudly, and revels in the surprised look on his siblings faces.

He strides into the kitchen, and they all follow him like ducklings. They look exactly the way they did when they died.

"Wow this is actually way harder than I thought it would be." Five muses, looking at their dead faces. But as Dolores would say, life is hard but you have to keep on trucking sometimes. "Whatever, what's the date?"

"Five, where have you been?" Diego demands, looking irritated. It makes Five snort in amusement.

"The future. The past. If you want like, an exact list of dates you'll have to hold your horses. I spent like, two weeks in Peru once. No souvenirs though, unfortunately."

They look taken aback, like they didn't expect Five to have quite this much sass. Oops. That is definitely Dolores's influence. Or maybe he was always a little asshole. In fairness, what teenagers aren't tiny assholes? He has an excuse.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Diego's eyebrows are furrowed in anger. It kind of takes Five aback for a second, because he remembers a Diego who stutters when he argued.

"When did you learn the fuck-word?" Five asks, raising an eyebrow before her can help it, "Grace ought to wash your mouth out with soap."

Diego immediately goes red, "Shut up!"

"Wow you're so easy to rile up. Aren't you like, twenty-something? Actually, I could figure out for myself how old you are if you gave me the date."

"I'm twenty-nine." Diego growls, like that was the point.

"Haunting!" Five says cheerfully, because that means there is way less time than he would like, narrowing his time down to a six month window.

It's extremely funny how his cheer makes all of them make faces.

It's Klaus who leans forward, "Why do you need to know?"

Klaus's face is open and curious and - (looks exactly like he did when Five found him all those years ago) - and Five can't help but answer him. "The world end on April 1st, 2019. No it isn't an April Fools joke, yes I have heard that joke like a million different times. I just want to know how close I landed so I can, you know, start working on how to fix that."

"Woah woah woah, roll it back." Allison says, holding a hand up, "What?"

"The apocalypse occurs on April 1st, 2019." Five says, slowly. "I have traveled from afar to prevent this from happening, because like, everyone dies."

"Everyone?" Vanya says weakly from the side.

She's clearly expecting to be ignored, so Five turns his head to address her directly by wiggling his hand back and forth a little. "Sort of. Like, not too many people survive at all. A handful of the human population, you know."

"But you survived?" Diego recovers admirably, if bitingly.

"Well, no." Five says rolling his eyes, "Wouldn't you just know it, Klaus here has managed to figure out a new ability!"

Everyone turns to look at Klaus, who immediately holds up his hands like he's being arrested or something, "I did not!"

"Wonderful! Now that we've established that I'm alive -"

"Why should we trust a word you say?" Luther says for the first time, looking pensive.

Five blinks, genuinely taken aback. "Because... I'm your brother? Because I can clearly and obviously time travel? Like, yeah, it would have been more convenient if I'd arrived in like, my old-body for proof-purposes, but like. I mean. Thirteen is still a pretty convincing age to be to prove time travel considering if I hadn't, I would be like, almost thirty."

"Roll it back again." Allison says firmly, "What do you mean by 'old body'?"

"Great question!" Five says pointing at Allison and smiling. Everyone looks at him weird again, and Five takes a moment to wonder if they've ever experienced positive reinforcement. Knowing Reginald, probably not. "Wait! Is Reggie alive? Wait, no, answer that in a second. Uh. When I time traveled I fucked up my body I guess, I was like, old. White hair and wrinkles-type old from spending decades in the apocalypse. But I fucked up the calculations and got booted back to my thirteen-year-old body, I guess. How, I have no idea."

"What?" Vanya says, still equally weakly.

"You have no idea how fucked up time travel is." Five whispers conspiratorially to Vanya, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "There are so many ways to die. Or permanently tear a hold in space time. But like, with life as we know if ending soon-ish, I figured I couldn't possibly fuck it up worse than it already was, y'know? Speaking of, anyone have the date again?"

"Wait, what was that about dad?" Luther asks, very focused.

"Oh, you still call him dad? Big oof." Five says automatically, because apparently his verbal filter is shot to hell after living with Dolores. It does make Klaus bark out a too-loud laugh.

"What does that mean?" Luther asks aggressively.

"It means Reginald sucks and doesn't deserve the title of 'dad,' what did you think I meant?" Five asks, and now both Diego and Vanya and both cracking smiles, though Vanya is covering hers with a hand.

"Have some respect for the dead." Luther growls, standing up and looking very large and threatening.

Five sways back, craning his head up, "Woah there big buy, sit down before I injure my poor growing spine looking up at you. Jeeze, did Reggie force feed you steroids or something? I wouldn't put it past him but like, I just want to know he at least went over the side effects of the drug with you. Also like, thanks for narrowing it down. Also terrifying! Seriously though, exact date please because if I have less than 24 hours I am going to break down crying and that is a threat."

"I love this Five." Klaus says reverently.

"March 21st." Vanya offers, finally.

"Wow! Terrifying!" Five says, clapping his hands together, "Hate that. Ten days, huh? Well, who wants to get on board the save-the-world express?"

Klaus immediately flings his hand in the air, Five points at his brother appreciatively. "Yes, excellent! I'll take the volunteer in the lovely skirt as my first team member. Any other volunteers?"

"Danke!" Klaus simpers, grinning widely like this is the vest entertainment he's had in weeks.

"I'm not just going to stand here and listen to you badmouth dad and boss us around." Luther slams his hands on the table.

"Well not with that attitude." Five snarks.

Diego raises his hand, "I would like to join team fuck dad as well."

"We can certainly debate team names later." Five says, nodding wisely as Luther gives some sort of scandalized gasp.

"Honestly, I just want to see where this is going." Klaus confesses.

Five shrugs, because he doesn't really care about the reason. "Don't you want to prove me wrong them? Prove what a well-adjusted young man Reginald Hargreeves raised?"

"Shut up." Luther grinds out, looking a moment away from throwing a punch.

"If this is all true, I have to get home." Allison cuts in, looking concerned, "I have - I have a daughter."

"I mean, if you want to give Claire a world to live in then I'd stick around, but that's just me." Five shrugs.

"You know her name?" Allison asks, obviously taken aback.

Five is almost offended, "Uh, yeah. I have her photo as well. Y'all get on like, a bizarre number of gossip magazine covers did you know that?"

Allison manages to outdo herself in terms of being taken aback once more.

There's a beat of silence, and then Five turns, "Vanya? You in?"

"Me?" Vanya blinks, looking shocked. "What can I do?"

"Yeah, what can she do?" Diego asks, crossing his arms and suddenly looking grumpy.

It baffles Five, who scrunches his nose, "Uh, like, a lot? I assume? I mean. I'm going to be honest here, just looking at y'all right now is a lot. In more ways than one! Hashtag trauma and all that, but like, name a single one of you that wouldn't be the most obvious person in the room as soon as you walked into it. Except Vanya, who somehow manages to look like a well adjusted adult, by some miracle."

"Did you just verbally say the word hashtag?" Allison asks, looking so deeply confused.

"More concerned about the trauma he tacked onto there, but y'know, to each their own." Klaus immediately cuts in.

"You think I'm well-adjusted?" Vanya asks, looking oddly touched.

"I would like to direct your attention to Diego's leather pants-scowl combo and Luther's general aura of daddy-issues." Five says pointedly, "I can practically smell the tragic comic book backstory in this room. If I'd jumped back a decade earlier this would have been Batman's wet dream of orphan selection."

"Alright! Game plan!" Five says, waving Diego's knife in his hand.

Diego's hands immediately go to his weird harness looking thing, "Hey!"

"Give me just one moment to get the tracker out." Five rolls his eyes, "Then I'll give it back, I promise. Also if someone could ask Grace for like, some antibiotics that would be good."

"What?" Allison asks, directly before Five stabs himself and there is suddenly panic at the table.

"Relax!" Five says, allowing Diego to remove the knife from his hands. He doesn't need it anyway and his hand immediately drops down to root in the wound.

"Five what the fuck!" Diego yells, but Five just pulls up bloody fingers and waves the tracker into Diego's stupefied face.

"What the fuck is that, Five?" Allison demands, looking very shaken.

"I literally just said it was a tracker." Five points out, "Now, I think our first team activity should be voting on whether we destroy it or take it out to bumfuck nowhere and ditch it to confuse the Commission."

"What the fuck is the Commission?" Diego barks.

"Man. Maybe I should just hit up Rick." Five muses, "This is going to take so much explaining."

"Who is Rick."

"So much explaining."

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Four

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Almost Smut

Word Count: 2.3K

A/n: hello I hope you all enjoy this!! I’m loving this series and I hope to keep updating it and Of Kings and Beasts regularly. Idk though. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

~*~

“You’re sure I look good?”

Nat groans and climbs off your couch reluctantly, grabbing you by the shoulders and stopping you from pacing anymore.

“You look gorgeous.” You bite your bottom lip nervously, hands itching to come up to your mouth.

Your hair is pushed behind your ears, natural and beautiful, and your makeup is light. Adorning your body is a simple light blue dress that stops just above your knees, as well as a beige cardigan that hangs loosely off of your shoulders.

Nat grabs you a pair of beige heels and shoves them into your hands.

“Put your shoes on and stop worrying. He’s on his way up so even if you didn’t look good there’s no time to change now.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths before crouching down and putting your shoes on. Right as you’re doing up the clasp around your ankle there's a knock on your door.

You freeze in place, looking at Natasha in absolute terror, and she rolls her eyes.

“It’s open!” She calls. You shake your head, one shoe on and the other off as you run to your bedroom.

“I can’t,” you whisper as the door starts to open. Hiding away in your bedroom, you listen to Nat greet Bucky.

“She’s almost ready. Just needs to grow a pair,” The redhead says loudly, her footsteps clomping towards the bedroom door.

She whips it open, ready to give you an earful, but when she sees the genuine fear on your face she reconsiders.

“Beans, you’re gonna be okay. He’s a real gentleman and he won’t do anything that you don’t want to do, I promise.” You take a few deep breaths, trying to hold back tears.

“What if I get hurt again, Nat? I don’t think I could handle it.” The weak whimper that leaves you has her heart shattering in her chest.

“He won’t hurt you. If he does I’ll kill him, I swear I will.” You sniffle and chuckle softly, sliding your foot into your other shoe and doing the clasp up.

“Okay. I think I’m ready.” She nods, taking your hand and giving it a firm squeeze before stepping aside and motioning to the door.

You take a deep breath, lift your chin, then leave your bedroom.

Bucky stands in the doorway, a bouquet of flowers in his grasp. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a black button-up, as well as a leather jacket.

“Wow,” he whispers, eyes wide as he takes you in.

“You look... wow.”

You smile shyly at him. “You clean up pretty nice yourself, James.” He chuckles, then, as if remembering he’s holding flowers, offers the bouquet to you.

“I uh... I didn’t know what kind of flowers you’d like... and Steve said to get red roses but Nat said that red roses are for love and I think it’s too early for that because this is our first date and all and I really didn’t wanna scare you away and now I’m definitely talking too much but I’ve been looking forward tot his for.. since we set our real first date and-” Nat interrupts his rambling, hating and loving seeing her usually so confident friend stumbling over his words.

“You’re doing great, Casanova. Keep this up and she won’t even leave.” You glare at Nat over your shoulder, not wanting her to be mean to Bucky.

“Thank you, I love them.”

He got you a bouquet of beautiful lavender roses, white lilies, and an assortment of small little leaves that tie the whole bouquet together.

“Nat, can you put these in a vase for me please?” You hand the bouquet to her after taking a long sniff, smiling eagerly at her. She nods, taking them from you and handing you your purse.

“Now go on. Have fun kids, use a condom and all that.” You groan, risking a glance at Bucky to see that his cheeks are bright pink.

Feeling better at the fact that you’re not the only nervous one, you take his outstretched arm and allow him to walk you out of your apartment.

“So where are you taking me?” You ask, smiling up at him.

“Well, I know this little café that makes these nice little sandwiches. I figured we could start there, grab a bite to eat and see where the day takes us.” You nod, taking a few deep breaths to calm your heart.

~*~

“I’m really glad you gave me a chance, I know things started really rocky but I... I’m glad I get a second chance.”

You smile at him, setting down your cup of tea and nodding.

“Of course. I don’t think I would have ever heard the end of it from Nat if I didn’t anyway.” The two of you share a laugh, him smiling brightly at you.

“I’ll make sure I thank her.” You nod, taking another sip of the decaf tea, heart thundering in your chest.

“I-I’m sorry, I just need to take something. I’m very nervous and my heart-” He reaches across the table and grabs your hand, squeezing gently.

“You don’t need to explain it to me if you don’t want to. Do whatever you need to do to keep yourself healthy, okay? Your health and happiness... those are my top priority.” You swear if it wasn’t beating unbearably fast against your ribs it would melt.

You take your pills as discreetly as you can, but Bucky, being ever the gentleman, excused himself to the bathroom to give you space to do whatever you need to do.

~*~

“I uh... I pushed Steve out of the way when we were in a really bad fire. I saw the beam coming down and it would’ve killed him. So I pushed him out of the way and... took the damage instead. Doctors told me if I had waited a second longer it would’ve been too high up and would’ve got me right in the chest. Instead... it took my arm.”

You sit idling in Bucky’s truck in front of your apartment, the two of you talking for the past two hours.

“Oh James... I’m so sorry.” He shakes his head, smiling at you. “If it hadn’t happened then Steve wouldn’t be alive and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself knowing I could’ve done something. Besides, Tommy thinks it’s pretty cool.” You nod at that, fingers tracing small patterns on his metal hand.

“I uh... When I was younger my mom was really careful with me. She wouldn’t let me do gym class... I could never go out with friends... nothing. One day we got into a nasty fight before I went to school. We called each other names and said awful things...

“I stopped on my way to school and bought an energy drink.” He stiffens beside you, eyes wide.

“I’d never even had caffeinated tea before, but I was so... so angry. I thought that... ‘whatever happens will teach her’. And I drank it. The whole can. I started feeling it halfway through class and when I raised my hand to tell my teacher... I just passed out. Collapsed right there in the middle of math class. They rushed me to the hospital and... I’ll never forget the fear I saw on my mom’s face. They said I almost killed myself. My heart couldn't handle the caffeine and I almost died. So from then on I just kinda... listened to my mom. Lived my life in the safe lane.”

He’s quiet for a long moment, eyes on your pretty face as you continue tracing patterns on his prosthetic.

“I’m glad you took a chance with me,” he whispers.

You look up at him, a shy smile on your face.

“I am too.”

His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, and you do the same, silently granting him permission.

He leans in, and before you have a moment to second-guess your decision, his warm lips are against yours.

You whimper, hand grabbing his wrist while the other finds his hair. He leans forward, lips moving against yours as if that is what they were made to do.

After a moment he pulls away, eyes wide.

“I-I’m sorry! I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have done that. I-is your heart okay?” You giggle, pushing him back into his seat and climbing over until you’re seated comfortably on his lap.

“It's gonna take a little more than some kissing to stop me,” you whisper, bringing your lips back down onto his.

He kisses you with newfound passion, hands gripping your waist and pulling you tight against him. His tongue explores your mouth, dancing with your own and making you feel things you haven’t felt in... ever.

When you pull away to breathe he doesn't stop. No, his lips, teeth, and tongue work their way down your neck until you’re quivering on top of him, body desperate for more.

“Come upstairs,” you whisper, panting against his mouth.

He lets out a weak chuckle then sighs, shaking his head.

“I shouldn’t.” You pull away, giving him a confused look. “Why not?” His hands find your thighs beneath your dress and he rubs his thumbs in circles on the soft skin.

“I... I wanna take my time with you. I wanna take you out again and I wanna wine and dine you real nice. If we just get right to it... It doesn’t feel right.” You go to climb off his lap but he stops you.

“This feels right. I didn’t mean that this,” he motions to where you are,” doesn’t feel right. I just... you already deserve so much more than I can give you, and I wanna do everything I can to prove that I’m gonna take care of you. Believe me, I wanna come upstairs and fuck you until you can’t remember your goddamn name.” You shiver at his words and he chuckles, pulling your hips forward a bit. You gasp as you feel his hard length through his pants, pressing up against you.

“I fucking want you,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. “You’ve got no idea how bad I want you. But you deserve to be taken out and treated like a queen.” He pulls away, flesh hand coming up and cupping your cheek.

“I like you, (Y/n). And I don’t wanna ruin things before they get good.” You rest your hands against his chest, fingers splayed on the warm skin beneath his shirt from where you’ve popped a few buttons open.

“I like you too, James. A lot more than I thought I would. And... if I’m being honest... that scares me.” He frowns, looking up at you and waiting for you to continue.

“I just... what if something happens to you?” His heart melts and he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, and then another.

“Don’t you worry about me, pretty girl. I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as I’ve got you willing to wait for me.” You grin, nodding and leaning down to press a kiss to his chest. Your lips linger long enough to feel the steady pulsing beneath the skin.

“I’m gonna be waiting for as long as you’ll have me.”

“Good.”

He walks you up to your apartment, hand held tightly in yours and a goofy smile on his face.

When you reach your door you feel sad that the night is coming to an end. Slowly you turn to him, eyes filled with things you want to say but can’t explain.

He simply chuckles softly, metal hand cupping your jaw gently.

“Text me when you get home, okay?” You ask softly, eyelids fluttering closed as he leans down. His lips find yours and you never want them to leave.

They fit so perfectly against yours, you could spend all of eternity kissing him.

Unfortunately, he pulls away after another fantastic moment.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes on his as he slowly stands up to his full height.

“You can still wine and dine me even if you stay the night,” you whisper, already knowing what his answer will be.

He laughs quietly, shaking his head while smile lines fan out around his eyes.

“You, (Y/n), are gonna be the death of me. But god, what a way to go.” He presses a gentle kiss to your cheek then a lingering kiss to your knuckles before pulling away slowly.

“I’ll see you soon, babydoll. And I promise to text when I get home.” You nod, watching as he walks down the hallway. He shoots a glance over his shoulder when he reaches the elevator, a smile spreading on his face and red coating his cheeks as he sees you watching him.

Only once the door is closed do you unlock your apartment.

You hardly have time to step a foot in when you hear the door behind you open up.

“Next time you put on a show like that let me know so I can make popcorn.” You giggle, turning to Gladys and shaking your head.

“If we had known you’d be peeping on us we wouldn’t have done anything.” She shrugs, smiling at you. “It’s hard not to watch with a man like that standing there.” You roll your eyes at her.

“Goodnight, Gladys.” She’s already back in her apartment.

“So I’m assuming it went well?”

You nearly scream.

“Nat?! What the fuck!” She laughs, throwing her head back and letting out a good belly-laugh.

“You should’ve seen your face!” You glare at her, throwing your purse at her.

“Not funny! Why are you still here?” You kick off your shoes and groan as your toes finally have time to relax after being in heels all day.

“After last time I wanted to make sure nothing went wrong. But from the sounds of it I almost caught something scarring, didn’t I?” You shake your head, sighing and plopping down on the couch with her.

“He’s a fucking gentleman. For better or for worse.” She nods, hand slapping your knee.

“I told you. He’s gonna treat you right, Beans. I promise.”

[wincore]

act iii, incomplete | ten

pairing: ten x reader

summary: it’s the same vivid dream every time — you, a feline constellation that keeps smiling at you and a boy who won’t ever forgive you. autumn, spring and everything in between come to save part of that but the truth is this: no amount of time spent at your small town theatre with your once best friend is going to speak the words for you.

alternatively, 

best friends aren’t meant to be lovers and ten, despite the millions of roles he’s played, keeps trying for the one role he won’t ever get.

genre: childhood best friends to lovers, slight theatre au, reincarnation themes, fluff, angst

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries, mentions of death

words: 23.9k

a/n: hello i’m so glad i actually completed this !!!!! i’ve never written something like this before !!! also longest fic let’s gooo ahaha special thank you to miss cat for reading this and making it at least infinity times better i am in indebted to u <3. playlist here.

part of the almost collab by @hyucksie !! (thank you for hosting this, it was lovely to be a part!!)

ACT I: HOMESICK

act i scene i. 

For the first time in years, you hold your breath at the local theatre, the walls more and more debilitated each year. It’s the only place, perhaps, that is so vibrant in its dull shades. The key is memories. Memories keep you alive in a way death and life and sickness cannot interfere. 

A single drum beat resounds through the theatre. A second one follows before a tune from a flute sets the mood. A voice speaks out, that of a woman, and it strikes you as somewhat sad. In that moment, you believe Ten would have pointed out to you that she is meant to do that, she is meant to play the part of someone sad. The curtains stare at you as undulating as a calm sea of red and you hold your breath. 

This is a modern play and you’ve only kept up with them for the sake of watching Ten play a part in them. As for other plays, high school Shakespeare was the most formidable text you’ve ever read and you’d rather not fight for your life again.

“Has the world ever seen a woman’s love unrivalled?”

A projector displays a flower, peonies, on the curtains.

“She once fell sick, dreaming of a lover; and once sick, she grew worse. Love is not love at its fullest if one is not willing to die for it.”

You don’t think that’s quite right. The curtains are drawn right then, their velvet sheen accentuated under the bright theatre lights and two characters appear on stage. 

Your first thought is that he’s grown far too much. The second is that he hasn’t changed much. Ten stands in the character of a play you haven’t finished reading yet, in clothes that accentuate his dancer’s figure and with the look of someone that isn’t him. You had tried to read  the play earlier but you might have gotten a little too excited to complete it. 

You bounce your legs in anticipation, the music and his voice fading out—it’s not like you can focus much with the high school kids giggling and making out in the seats right behind yours. You could always make a scene but it’s not like you to steal the spotlight away from your dearest friend. Besides, you need to reiterate through the list of things you have to help him catch up on since he’s been gone. Ten wouldn’t want to miss out on some spicy gossip. You chuckle to yourself, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool yourself. 

Ten likes overwhelming responses. You like to be overwhelming. You’re the perfect pair. 

The play ends in a way you can’t tell if it was a tragedy or a comedy. You could have if you paid more attention but this isn’t literature class. You can do whatever you want now and you’re a little preoccupied with your own thoughts. Ten. Your best friend is back from Broadway after a year of barely talking. You can’t wait to hear the stories.

You get up as soon as the lights are on but when no one else does, you sit back down. The curtains part now and the cast comes on for their final bow. You shift around to see if Ten is looking at you, the older people beside you grunting in annoyance and muttering something about the youth. He’s not but Sicheng is and when you send a wink his way, he shakes his head.

You pout at the lack of attention but it’s time to make your way backstage now. The crowd is exiting and you need to get there before Ten leaves. 

Once outside, you make a beeline to the back of the theatre building and mess up Sicheng’s hair as he leaves for home. 

“He’s inside,” he informs curtly and makes as much distance possible between the two of you.

“Oh, don’t be shy, Sicheng,” you coo to annoy him. “You performed so well. Not as good as Ten though.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “Were you even paying attention?”

You cross your arms and push him onto his track. He shrugs and you watch his figure disappear behind the corner before taking a deep breath. With anticipation, comes a little unrestrained droplet of anxiety. You shouldn’t be worried, you tell yourself. This is Ten, after all.

The crows sing a song to themselves under the purple evening sun and you feel annoyed at the sound. It’s a song for ghosts. You hate the sound of it. 

You rub your temples, trying to hush away the headache. You can’t wait to see Ten.

You swing the door open in an attempt to sneak up on him. However, you take a few moments to see him barefaced, the stage makeup washed off and a red undertone running through his nose and cheeks. That dark mop of hair sticks out every which way, and no attempt has been made to rectify it. It was once your job, actually. He rubs at his sleepy eyes, a yawn escaping his lips as he stuff his belongings into a worn-out satchel bag. You gave it to him when you skipped prom night. You smile. 

“Ten!” you yell at the top of your lungs. You’ve missed him so much—an old greeting should warm him up. This town started feeling more like home once you heard the news Ten’s back.

He looks at you so cold that you stop dead in your tracks. You freeze up, the words suddenly collapsing into themselves like wilting flowers. You don’t recognize Ten all of a sudden. He wears a deep frown and empty eyes, something you cannot understand no matter what angle you look from. Everything’s changed now, hasn’t it? You truly understand what that means when you meet his eyes.

“Ten,” you repeat at a more respectable volume. “Hey. I… I missed—”

“Hey,” he responds a little too quickly. Eyes less sharp than usual, he averts his gaze. “I- I need to get home early.”

Ten grabs his bag and leaves the room, his shoulder brushing against yours. You stand there for a few extra moments, breaths shallow and quiet. When you regain the sound of your heartbeat, you leave the practice room, throat dry and a frustrated sigh on your lips. Consequences, every time it’s the consequences biting back.

The crows’ song goes unheard.

act i scene ii.

“So… you want me to get Ten to talk to you?” 

Sicheng looks at you in disbelief, the ice cream in his hand starting to melt. You’ve never met anyone who enjoys ice cream in mid-autumn as much as he does. Sore throats are foreign to him.

You nod, crossing your arms. “I don’t know why he’s avoiding me.”

Sicheng scoffs, choking on the ice cream and taking a few moments to regain his composure. 

“Thanks,” he says when you rub his back in pity. “But… you really don’t know why he’s avoiding you?”

You shake your head. It’s a lie. But the only thing you can think of is the summer he left, when he confessed his feelings and you rejected him after a few seconds of contemplation. You had good reason. You just can’t tell him that. You’re still young and there’s so much to look forward to.

"You obviously have feelings for him!"

"Yeah, anger! Why would he just ignore me like that? We've been friends for, uh…"

"Stop counting, you suck at math."

You punch his shoulder and his ice cream almost falls off. He looks at you with a glare so strong, you have to take a step back.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I thought we were like any other pair of best friends.”

Sicheng snorts. “Yeah, best friends in love with each other. Didn't you suggest getting married once?”

“As a joke,” you interject, feeling heat on your cheeks. “Actually, do you know how useful a marriage of convenience is? It's got convenience in the name. Think of all the tax benefits.”

Sicheng rolls his eyes. “The way you looked at each other wasn’t a joke—you know what? I’m not going to be the supporting act to your whole romance charade. You figure this out.”

You pout. “So you’re saying you won’t help?”

He shrugs. “Maybe. You won’t know if I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, groaning in exasperation. This was supposed to be a happy reunion and yet, you’re here moping to a theatre kid, hoping he helps you. You expected Ten to not take it well but right now, you wish you weren’t so blunt. You could have said it nicer.

You’re joking, right? Haha, nice one. Best friends don't fall in love.

Oh, this is all your fault. You knew him better than anyone else. You should’ve known the consequences too—you could scream right now. In your defense, you thought college made him lose a few brain cells. You still have to make it right. 

“Fine. Whatever you might do, better do it soon.”

Sicheng shrugs, turning back to his ice cream and browsing lazily through one of the magazines. He’s supposed to be watching the store—he gets paid for it but he couldn’t care less about this place. Sicheng is something of a theatrical actor too, traveling around and performing with his theatre group. He never cared for Broadway as much as Ten did.

However, you’re all here now. This autumn is going to be spent with your best friends no matter the cost. You smile as you think of the time you and Ten surprised Sicheng with a whole bag of ice cream and he cried although most of it ended up melting. Sicheng raises an eyebrow at your expression but doesn't question.

“There’s a reunion party by the woods,” he announces. “Next week. Saturday. You have to make up before that. You know they’re going to be brutal.”

You shudder. Your classmates certainly won’t let go of the idea of your relationship with Ten. Teasing aside, they’re going to be making either one of you uncomfortable. All your excitement drains itself. Your shoulders slump and you think that perhaps, asking for forgiveness would be a better out. You recover quickly though. This has to work out, Ten has to be your best friend again—what choice do you have? You missed him and you’re going to let him know.

//

The first attempt begins right in the evening. Sicheng texts Ten after his shift, asking him to get some snacks. Lucky for you, you work at the local snack store, also called the convenience store. There’s nowhere better to get snacks. There’s also nowhere else to get snacks.

You stand behind the counter, fiddling with the drawstrings of your hoodie while your eyes trail to the hands of the clock on the wall. Sicheng texted him half an hour ago. Ten might not be the most punctual but you know he listens to Sicheng, even if it’s reluctantly.

Your impatience gets the better of you and you leave the counter to peer out the glass door. Unfortunately, someone pushes open the door right then and you clutch your nose, eyes watering at the painful impact. 

Ten looks petrified for a moment before turning around and leaving. You furrow your eyebrows, tears brimming from the pain in your nose and mixing into the exasperation from getting so bluntly ignored. Come on, Ten. You curse on your way back to the lonely counter. There goes the only thing you were looking forward to this evening. Sicheng walks in a while later, a sour look on his face.

“He actually gave me a mouthful,” he mutters angrily. “Can you believe that? Me. Who’s listened to all his lovesick ramblings about y—theatre.” 

You slump onto the counter further, the bright orange background of the store more headache-inducing than optimistic. 

“God, this is so much more difficult than I expected.”

“What happened between the two of you anyway? I thought you promised to call him every day.”

“I tried, okay? He wouldn’t pick up.”

Sicheng raises an eyebrow. “Woah. Haven’t heard about that one.”

He places the single pack of Lays onto the counter. You get up to pull the chocolate ice cream from the cooler.

“Don’t bother. It’s so depressing getting shut out like this.”

Sicheng mutters something under his breath you don’t quite catch. It’s his complaining voice though, so you don’t question him. 

“He’s going to be at the Bridge tomorrow,” Sicheng notifies. “Something about getting fresh early morning air. Now, there’s no way you can run into him and call it coincidence. So don’t do that.”

You cross your arms. “So what do you suggest I do?”

“I mean, if you’re accompanying Mr. Yang to the dahlia fields for flower shop business… that’s a different story.”

Your eyes brighten and you sit up. “You’re a genius!”

“I’ve been telling you guys since—”

You hug him and he chokes, almost dropping the Lays pack. The door opens and you hurriedly wave at Yangyang, who’s here for the next shift before running out the door in a hurricane of bad decisions and good intentions.

“I hate being the middleman,” Sicheng mutters to Yangyang who offers him a pitiful look. The evening returns to its pink skies and you race your feelings to your destination.

//

“Mr. Yang,” you whine. “You don’t need a single dahlia? I’m offering to help.”

The older man scratches his spotless white beard and looks at you in confusion. “I gathered a whole cartload just three days ago. There’s no way I need more. You know this place—no one buys flowers anymore.”

“I’ll buy them! A whole cartload.”

“And where will you get the money, child?”

“Uh.”

Mr. Yang shakes his head at your immaturity. “If you’re so eager, get me some chrysanthemums from Mrs. Leong’s sh—”

“No. It has to be from the other side of the Bridge,” you interject. 

Mr. Yang is further perplexed but you’re glad he doesn’t ask further. Having to explain your love and friendship troubles to a senior citizen has never been an ideal situation. You make a face at the thought.

“Alright,” he says and takes a few moments to ponder. “You want an errand to run, right? Could you get me some sunflower seeds from Goodwin Park?”

“That far?”

He sighs. “Do you want to go or not?”

You nod reluctantly, checking your phone to see the time. It’s early as fuck and the only person you’d wake up this early for doesn’t even know you’re doing all this.

“It’s to feed the birds, isn’t it?” You raise an eyebrow. 

Mr Yang nods.

“You know, you don’t have to do all that to get Mrs. Leong to notice you.” You offer him a cheeky grin.

“I’m assuming it’s also a person you’re doing all of this for,” he hums in reply.  

You drop your grin and take the errand money, heat rising in your cheeks. Exiting quickly, you check the time again. Ten better not have left early.

Shortcuts are better when there’s someone with you, you decide. You have gained around five long scratches at five different places on your body trying to best the hill beside Maple Street in order to get to the Bridge faster. If Ten were here, he'd laugh at you for being so graceless. 

The Bridge is empty when you arrive and you sigh deeply. You’re not sure if you’re early or he’s late or you’re astronomically late. The grass is still a golden green in colour, for autumn never truly comes in when you’re expecting it. The little stream below the Bridge is almost dried up but the wooden structure stays. You remember Sicheng broke his leg once, trying to catch Ten’s family cat pawing at fish in the stream when it used to be fuller.

You greet Mr. Santello at his garden and buy the sunflower seeds. Your errand is complete but the rising agitation in your chest makes you kick a rock on the way back to the Bridge. This side of the town is bleak except for the garden and the only fun you’ve had here is when a beehive dropped on Yukhei’s head (he poked at it himself with no provocation from your side whatsoever). The scenery is much prettier with someone to appreciate it. You, on the other hand, cannot wait to leave this town. You walk back with certain memories playing in your head, the smell of nostalgia rising with the sun. You’ve always hated early mornings; but you did have fun in them when you had to wake up for school trips. You hold your breath, stopping right before the beginning of the Bridge.

Ten leans against the wooden rails of the Bridge, Starmill Bridge, with eyes gently closed and white earphones plugged in. You smile to yourself. When the sunlight draws across his cheeks, he seems brighter than golden skies and softer than late afternoon clouds. You see the boy from your childhood, messy unbrushed hair and his favourite grey sweater. He’s so full of colour. You wouldn’t mind staring at him for as long as you can.

You take a step and your hoodie catches onto a stray nail, making you stumble onto the wooden floor of the Bridge. You look at your scattered boxes of sunflower seeds with horror but not before finding Ten plucking out his earphone to look at you. He’s so pretty even in a daze.

“Hi?” you offer. “I was on an errand, promise. Not stalking you and trying to get you to talk to me or anything. Hah.”

Ten shakes his head at you and quietly stares for a few more moments.

“I don’t want to talk to you right now,” he answers finally. “Stop trying.”

You look at him with a flickering guilt though you’re not sure why. He sighs and walks toward you, frowning. He takes out the cloth of your hoodie stuck in the nail with tentative care. Gathering the boxes of sunflower seeds scattered on the floor, he glances at you once before getting up.

You grab his hand before he can walk away again. 

“Ten,” you say, your voice coming off more pitiful than you would like. 

He turns back at you with lips pursed and a sorrowful look in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I need to work some things out.”

Ten leaves you hanging for a third time in your life and you pull yourself together enough to stand up. You can’t imagine—you don’t want to imagine how much longer this’ll go on. Ten used to be an amenable boy; it shouldn’t be taking this long.

Somewhere the wind comes tumbling in, whispering the words that everything has changed and everything is still changing.

//

The third and last attempt is outside his house. Ten’s mother is bound to notice you at some point, right? Considering you’re camping out like a homeless man from the nearby gas station, that is. You hope she’s out for grocery shopping and you can just pretend you were on your way home and ‘accidentally’ bumped into her. Being the kind soul she is, she’s going to invite you to dinner since it’s late already. And where else can you spend your time while she cooks but in Ten’s room? It’s perfect and there’s no way he can avoid this.

“(name)!” Ten’s sister yells in glee. 

“Tern!” You smile at her.

“Mom’s sending me for grocery shopping. Do you wanna come help?”

You want to go inside the house but patience is quite possibly a virtue. You haven’t tried it out yet. 

“Sure.” You grin. “I’ve got time to kill.”

So, you are aware that Ten’s sister tends to shoot off at the mouth with the right person but you somehow cannot get her to talk about Ten. Apart from his life in New York, that is, which you had hoped to hear from him. 

“So… how come you’re not in our house already? No offense, it’s just you and Ten… you know.” She looks at you with an inquisitive quirk of her eyebrow. 

Ten must be a really good actor. Not like you ever doubted him but for his sister to be so blissfully unaware, he must have put on quite the show. Either that, or he really has forgotten you. You try not to feed fire to that thought.

“Uh, you know, been busy with the snack shack. We’re redecorating. Mr. Kim is going to boil me alive if I slack off.”

She giggles at your expression. “I heard it from Yangyang. He said the redecorations are ugly though.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Ten let you talk to Yangyang? A boy?”

She crosses her arms with a disbelieving laugh. “He can’t tell me how to live. Besides, he doesn’t care.”

You laugh. “Right. You have no idea how overprotective he can actually be. Older brother instincts or whatever.”

She suppresses a laugh. “And you must be facing the boyfriend instincts.”

You stammer out a response but it doesn’t make any sense. It’s alright to get laughed at, you suppose, if Tern is in fits beside you.

The rest of the conversation is about things less important. It would be rude to not engage though so you talk with enthusiasm all the way back. Part of you sees Ten in his sister. How terrible of you to see someone else in a person right beside you.

“(name)!” 

Ten’s mother looks pleasantly surprised. 

“Good evening, ma’am!” You curtsy in an exaggerated manner, and she laughs, patting your arm. 

“How come it took you so long to visit? You hardly ever came over these few years, and I’m a little upset about that by the way, but I thought for sure, you’d be in the house the day Ten came back.”

You scratch the back of your head sheepishly. “You know. Work and stuff. Mr Kim is redecorating the store.”

She exhales in annoyance. “Is that man exploiting you children again?”

“I’m—uh… I’m an adult—”

“Hush,” she instructs, voice strict and you zip your mouth immediately. Never question a mother’s statement.

“Ten’s in his room, by the way. Should I call him?” she asks, after a minute of complaining about Mr. Kim, which you would have loved to join but there are other matters at hand. She has all the gossip in town and yet, she’s somehow blissfully unaware of the silence between her son and his best friend. Are you not as important? It makes you pout but you quickly neutralize your expression.

“Ten!” she shouts when you don’t respond, a little lost in your own thoughts.

“Uh—oh no, you don’t have to do that!” you say quickly. “I’ll just go to his room.”

You hurry up the stairs, just in time for Ten to open his bedroom door and jump back in fright.

“Oh my fucking god,” he mutters, like the soul has been kicked straight out of his body. In any other situation, you would’ve loved to give him a scare.

You walk into the bedroom and lock the door behind you. 

“Ten. We need to talk.”

“I don’t wanna talk,” he says, furrowing his eyebrows. You notice the change in his features—his hair has grown out, his face is more chiseled and he has an angry quirk to his brows. “I told you I need some space. You never know how to listen, fuck.”

His voice is a low whisper, in the short space between you. You don’t move from your spot, with your back against the wall and feet nervous. You shift from foot to foot and look him in the eye before looking away. You’ve never felt this way around him. You’ve never actually pissed him off this bad. You don’t know what to do.

“Just leave. God. I can’t believe you think you can just walk in!”

You frown at his words. “Ten. I just wanted to talk to you again. We’re friends—”

“How does it matter if we are? Everything’s changed. This whole place has changed. I’ve changed.” 

“But… that doesn’t mean we have to pretend we’re strangers—”

“Leave. Please.”

His voice is so low and odd that you don’t recognize it anymore. You sigh. You can’t convince him when he’s so defensive. You open the door to his bedroom to find Ten’s mom and sister in the hallway trying very hard to pretend they weren’t eavesdropping. You offer them a sad smile and thank his mother for the dinner before taking your leave. You feel too ridiculous to cry.

How do people put in all that effort in romantic comedies? You don't even know where to start. Maybe you should follow the King's advice from Alice in Wonderland. 

Begin at the beginning and go on until you come to the end; then stop.

No. No, you can't be thinking of ending scenes right now. There's a much bigger problem at hand. Saturday. You better brace yourself for the unpredictability of former prom queens and class presidents, and the predictability of this small town that never changes. 

act i scene iii.

High school reunion parties here aren’t exactly mawkish affairs. There’s alcohol, people who are meant to be adults but haven’t quite grown into it yet, the looming woods, and more alcohol. There's no room for sentimentalism when your former classmates, seniors and juniors—those who could be here, at least—are back together and it feels like nothing has changed at all. However, college-age boys always pose problems. 

“Look, if Johnny can do it, so can I,” Yukhei tells you. 

Johnny smacks his shoulder encouragingly, and a few of your friends giggle at the two lanky men, looking like they’ve discovered something priceless beside the campfire light.

“This beer tastes like crap,” you mutter before returning to a regular volume. “But go ahead and try chugging two bottles in under a minute if you want.”

Your backhanded statement backfires almost immediately because he does exactly as you said. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try not to peek at Ten, sitting beside Johnny and looking rather sleepy. It’s the bedhead, you think to yourself. It’s cute.

“Alright, who’s next?” Yukhei asks, voice booming enthusiastically. 

Yeri sighs beside you, tired from the late night and not so much from the alcohol. Speaking of which, the alcohol table is somehow still stocked and Sicheng stands beside it, looking sour from being forced into guard duty. 

“Tell him to pipe down,” Yeri mutters, pressing her forehead against your shoulder and you look at her apologetically. 

“(name) hasn’t answered anything yet!” Sooyoung pipes up and you shoot her a look she ignores. “Neither has Ten, by the way.”

A bunch of “ooh”s pass through the crowd of roughly twenty people, and you would bury your face in your hands were it not for that stubborn pride of yours. 

Truth or dare is quite possibly the worst game in the history of mankind. Ten looks somewhat flustered under the attention but he just sighs. 

“Get it over with.” He looks at Yukhei expectantly.

“Kiss (name)!”

Your heart drops and you glare at Yukhei. You should have expected it. There is no one more unimaginative than drunk boys. His cheeks are flushed when he grins at you, encouraging you with a thumbs up gesture. 

“He doesn’t have to do that.” You cross your arms. “Consent is important even in fun and games.”

The sentence is so didactic of you but you hope the seriousness in your voice makes him back off.

“But you guys are, like, in love with each other,” Yangyang blurts before covering mouth as if he said something scandalous.

A bunch of chuckles follow, though Johnny shows some concern towards Ten. You remember why you hate high school reunions now. Apart from the fact that almost everyone gets to tell their stories of big cities and big dreams they get to live in, everyone turns into a child again when at a reunion. Perhaps it’s the burst of memories or the vivid glow of old connections returning but you can’t stand childishness. Even if you’re the one to act like a child sometimes.

“I’m gonna go drink,” you say. “That’s the punishment, right? I’m not playing anymore.”

Yukhei groans. “Come on, (name). You wouldn’t be such a bore.”

“I would,” you snap and get up from your seat, Yeri muttering in annoyance before leaning onto Sooyoung’s shoulder.

Ten is glowing in the cheeks, you find when you look at him. He meets your eyes once and looks away, playing with his fingers. 

You pour yourself some beer into a cup and lift it up to show to Yukhei before striding off to a place farther than the warmth of people and the campfire. The giant log is a nice enough seat by the edge of the woods. It is cold and mossy though, and you hug yourself, sticking your hands into the pockets of your cardigan.

The sound of footsteps over dried leaves catch your attention and you look up. Ten takes a seat beside you in silence. You move the cup of beer so that it doesn’t spill from any sudden movement. It’s quiet for even longer, your pulse the only rhythm to follow.

"Ten." You smile, looking away from him and into the ceaseless stretch of woods. He hums in response, as though a habit yet to get rid of. It makes you bite down your lip to prevent the smile from turning into something sadder.

You miss him. You miss the years you spent with him. You're drawn into him, into something old, familiar and safe. 

No one can save you when you’re homesick. 

However, you do not give up easily. What is broken can be mended with enough love and care.

Ten sighs, taking the cup from you right before it touches your lips. "Don't drink that. You hate the taste and it makes you go crazy."

You pout, but can't really find something snarky enough to say. Not when he looks like that—with dry, still-red lips and tired, apologetic eyes.

“Your forehead is so oily,” you mutter.

Ten looks at you, furrowing his eyebrows. He proceeds to hesitantly wipe at his forehead with the sleeve of his sweatshirt before shaking himself out of it. Instead he just glares at you.

“It’s not oilier than your nose,” he shoots, annoyed. 

“At least my nose isn’t titan-sized.”

“My nose is perfect. Do you- do you know how many people fall in love with my perfect nose every day?”

You laugh, covering your face. His features soften and he returns his gaze to the comfort of the endless forest. It does have an end, at the fences by the railway tracks but in believing that something can be infinite, you find comfort. 

"New York treated you well. Too well. But then again, you were always a narcissist."

You smile smugly at him and he gives you an unamused look.

"I'm… I'm glad we're talking," you offer after a few moments of unacknowledged silence.

He tenses ever so slightly, running a hand through his already messy hair and looks at you. He looks away again as if in an internal debate.

“You rejected me, (name),” he says, exasperated. “How do I recover from that? Don’t answer. It was so embarrassing.”

You close your mouth. If only you could tell him the truth. You had to reject him or your sentimental boy would never leave for acting opportunities. He doesn’t have to know that. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly.

But the truth is, it’s too scary to think about. You’ve been refusing to look at your feelings for a long time now. It’s only a cliche; it doesn't happen in real life. You’re too good of friends to be in love. Isn’t that right? It certainly couldn't have been you to fall in love with Ten. There were a million other people to do that in your stead. You feel shy all of a sudden.

“That was pretty embarrassing,” you mumble, pressing down your smile and he rolls his eyes.

After a few moments in silence, a sigh escapes his lips. “I’ve had enough time for closure though. I can’t believe I actually said that. Oh, the over-sentimentalism. Yikes.”

He makes a disgusted face.

You giggle. “I can’t believe it either. You do look cute blushing, by the way. You find any lover in the big, scary city? Any rebound?” 

Ten rolls his eyes. “Too busy. And are you going to tease me forever about this thing?”

You laugh. “That’s the Ten I know. You’re always working. Sometimes you should have fun.” 

“I have plenty of fun. You’re the one that used to cry at birthday parties.”

“I was six years old and it was one time, holy shit.”

The two of you break into laughter. The cold makes you draw nearer to him.

“Hey, wanna go to the mall this weekend?” you suggest.

“Wait, it’s still there? Wasn’t it supposed to get knocked down?”

“Yeah but the townsfolk didn’t want that so they delayed it. There’s, like, barely any employees though. It’s like a ghost mansion at night.”

Ten makes a face. “The afternoons there were so bright, like, there was so much sunlight, remember? I remember you always drinking my banana milk at the food plaza.”

You laugh. “I miss skipping class to go there. Now there aren’t any classes to skip.”

“Oh my god, remember when Mr. Wilson actually caught us?”

You laugh louder. “We had to pretend we weren’t his students. Which was futile acting because he knows every student.” 

Ten sighs. 

“I missed you. God, I’m so fucking sorry—I was in over my head. I thought I ruined everything.”

“Hey.” You scoot closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I missed you too. Besides, it’s not you if you’re not being a bit of a drama queen.”

Ten elbows you in the side at the comment and you yelp, moving away and glaring at him in response. 

“Just because I’m in theatre doesn’t mean I’m a drama queen.” He mocks the tone of your voice and you giggle.

“So any special Broadway stories you have in mind? I wanna hear something funny.” You rest your head on his shoulder comfortably.

"Well, one time this actress' dress caught on fire—"

"That's not funny, that's horrifying."

Ten purses his lips. “Okay. Uh… I got told to fuck off by an eighty year old man in drag after I threw raw steak at his window?”

You snort, eyes widening and Ten throws up his hands in exasperation. "How is that remotely funny?"

"I'm pretty sure that's as funny as it gets with you."

"I can't believe you're pretending I didn't carry our sense of humour on my back for all of middle school and high school."

“I missed you," you say quietly, and he flusters, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

"Really? You're not just saying that?"

You sigh, inching closer. "Yes. I did miss you, you know? I called."

"And I didn't pick up. I know. I'm sorry."

"I think you've apologized to me more times now than you have in our first twenty years of friendship."

Ten rolls his eyes. "And I mean it. It's not the 'sorry I ate your cookies' apology."

"I fucking knew you were the one eating stuff from my bag back in high school."

Ten presses his lips, making a zipping motion and you push him in exasperation. The two of you laugh, loud and clear, before Johnny's voice comes in, telling the two of you to "stop fooling around near the woods" and that it's "unhygienic".

Seasons change but people don't. You walk home with Ten for the first time in a year and suddenly, you’re in love with the idea that things can just lie in complete peace once they fall back into what was always meant to be. Perhaps it’s the writer’s utopia, but you think it’s much more meaningful this way. Ten's hoodie smells just like home.

prologue.

It was a sunlit morning when you first met Ten, but it was only a sunlit morning. There were no birds chirping or faceless adults on that sidewalk or even your friends because you don’t recall them. You recall a child with two very important teeth missing and your sudden urge to run to his side. You’d pulled his cheek with a huge grin on your face because, and you still stand by this, they were too cute and plump and red to resist.

You were three and a half years old when you met Ten and you parted when you were twenty. One year later, you're back to linking arms, joking about each other and talking about life as though it's a passing stream. 

You were six years old when you cried at Ten's birthday party because no one was talking to him. It gave you an evening's worth of attention and a huge smile on Ten's face. You still think kids are mean as hell but they care for things like they have never cared before. 

You were eleven years old when you started to lose a little bit of touch with yourself. You talked less, you looked at people more. Ten's face was still the most comforting out of all. He said he liked to listen no matter how annoying you sound. Somehow, by the time sixth grade was over, when you were almost twelve—you talked at least twice as much. 

You were fourteen years old when you dated a boy out of curiosity and left on an awkward note when he moved away. You weren't sad for some reason. The idea of life passing meaninglessly by was engraved into you, like the waves that carve the beach. Ten was distant the whole time, with a scowl and more sarcastic remarks than usual, only warming up when you showed up at his door with a homemade cake. It tasted horrible and had the texture of a mossy pebble but you laughed over it anyway. Suddenly, life wasn't meandering but a river full of vigor in spring, beside a garden of fresh crested irises. 

You were sixteen when you were pushed to audition in a play by your best friend. The play was about life and death and love, and it didn’t make sense to you the way it did to him. You had good fun backstage with the costumes and the makeup, and it was all that mattered to you. However, some part of you didn't like it, hated it even when he kissed the female lead of the play with eyes full of adoration. You looked on as Villager B and you hated every part of it.

When you were eighteen turning nineteen, you decided to save up for college. It would take time—years perhaps but you would get there. You would get an apartment with Ten in New York City or any city full of bustling, busy life and you would tend to your rooftop garden. Small town dreams, however, die and they die and they’re buried in unloved, unplanted soil. 

You finally understood what your tenth grade English teacher meant when she said everything is theatre. 

The night he left, you had a nightmare. It was a play and you were the protagonist. You couldn’t make it in time for the night of the performance, anxious and afraid as you arrived. You’d been replaced. You hated to see him on stage with someone else. You hated it. You hated it. You hated it so much. 

Of course, you knew it would be a showstopper the moment that fight broke out between you and your replacement. You were cruel in that dream—almost as if you were someone else. But you felt comfortable in that skin, like you were meant to play that part after all. As if you were the villain all along and not the sweetheart of the show. You felt comfortable and it scared you so much that you woke in cold sweat and cried for an hour straight.

It hurt how lonely you felt. It hurt without Ten and you hate that you let him go. Something took shape inside the cavity of your chest, the shape of a weed sprouting in the pulsing garden of life—you won’t make the same mistake again. You’re going to hold on with all your might, till your hands ache and till your heart has had enough. 

ACT II: YOUTH 

 act ii scene i.

“Have you ever actually shoplifted in your life?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Ten tries to suppress his smile and fails, moving so that his back covers you from view instead. A conversation about New York subways led to a conversation about anarchy which led to… this. You’ve been trying to swipe the butterfly pin from the display for the past half an hour. You weren’t actually going to steal it—you just need to prove you can.

The mall is always eerily empty. It shouldn’t be this big of a hassle. Ah yes, apart from the fact that the souvenir shop has stationed the most number of employees for some goddamn reason. You’re not even sure why it’s there; a souvenir shop for your town might as well be a forgotten relic.

“What? No,” he says quickly. “I’m not doing that. Causing trouble is your thing.”

You snort. “Right. Because everything we got into trouble for was done completely by me.”

“That’s actually true.”

You elbow him, giving him your most offended look.

“You can’t be serious about never causing trouble. You broke Mrs. Leung’s famous ruler, remember? And you always stole your mom’s Halloween cupcakes. Those were for all of the theatre crew, by the way.”

“That doesn’t sound right, darling.”

When you look up at him with eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, you find him smiling in somewhat tranquil thought. It has been rather long. 

“Yeah, I helped you way too much,” you respond, distastefully. 

The two of you straighten at the cashier’s call. Responding that everything’s fine, Ten turns to you with a pointed look.

“If you’re going to do it, better do it before she gets suspicious.”

The hint in his eyes reminds you that he is indeed the devil you know, and you quickly pocket the little butterfly hairpin. This is not ethical in any way and even so, you feel the childish exhilaration. This is to prove a point to your dear friend.

“See?” you whisper to him, exiting the shop. “I could totally pull this off.”

“Not if I start screaming ‘thief!’”

“Did you ever get to play a villain at Broadway? It’s closest to your personality,” you jab.

He sends you a sardonic smile before sticking his tongue out. You should always beware a childish man and his childish smile. You never know if he’ll take you seriously. Ten is the absolute worst and you love him all the more for it.

“Are you actually not gonna pay for it?” he asks, tilting his head. 

“And let all those proceeds go to our corrupt overlord mayor? Nuh-uh.”

Ten laughs. “We should go vandalize his campaign posters again.”

The mayor has had, you don’t know how many, little scandals accusing him of embezzlement and every time, he’s escaped easy as pie. All the things you can do with money and you decide to hoard more money; you will never understand people like him. Besides, you won’t have to worry about that any time soon.

“See? You’re the troublemaker. I can’t even vandalize good enough.”

“It’s not my fault you have zero artistic talent.”

You place your hands on your hips. “I’m sorry? I’m pretty sure I taught you how to paint.”

Ten rolls his eyes, a sneaky smile on his lips. “Yeah. You taught the whole class how to paint when you smacked Mr. Cheng with that paintbrush.”

You can’t help the laugh that comes to you, despite trying your best to hold a serious expression.

“You’re a disaster,” he adds, staring incredulously at your fit of laughter. 

You look at him and start laughing again.

“Oh my god, what’s so funny? I wasn’t even trying to be funny.”

“Okay, emo boy,” you say, finally straightening and messing his hair.

“I was going to get a haircut.”

“Don’t. You look pretty.”

Ten hums, raising an eyebrow. “But I wanna look hot.”

“That’s going to take a lot of effort.”

Ten grabs you in a chokehold, messing your hair with his hands in the most obnoxious way possible. Finally able to loosen his grip on you, you look at him with your most fearsome glare. He has to stop treating you so gracelessly.

It’s not unusual for him to behave this way; in fact, you welcome it when he’s warm and much lovelier than the usual. But something feels amiss, something dangerous like the passage of time. 

“Ten?”

“Yes?”

“I thought you’d be talking much more about New York instead of our boring old town.”

He hums, eyes scanning the vicinity of the mall’s first floor. There’s an ice cream shop opposite to the souvenir shop, unvisited due its lack of variety in flavours, and a spacious marble floor with most of the shops closed for renovation. The other two floors are closed off completely but you’re sure that with enough effort, you could sneak in. The glass ceiling at the centre allows for sunlight to wash in as gentle waves, settling on your heads like golden crowns. There are little potted plants lining the walls to make the mall space look less dilapidated but it gives off the same effect as that of something abandoned, left alone and waiting. 

“You want me to brag about it?” He addresses you with a slightly cocky grin.

You roll your eyes. “Never mind.”

The mayor wanted to turn this place into some sort of religious campus but you detest the idea of that man getting his way. He’s the very same man to reprimand little girls for their outfits and to say “dancing is not manly” so you do owe his nauseating sexism for your distaste for him. That, and he has absolutely no sense of aesthetics. You would die before you let him remove the gardens or the livelier buildings blessed with the only colours you can bear to look at. 

“Hey, (name)?”

“Yeah?”

“I think Angry Cashier is making her way towards you.”

You snap your head to the souvenir shop and the cashier is indeed eyeing you suspiciously. You reach to pat your pocket but you’re stopped by Ten.

“You are, by far, the stupidest thief I’ve ever known.”

You puff your cheeks in annoyance, crossing your arms instead. Just when you think the cashier is going to call you out, the two of you sprint over to the mall exit with a plausible enough speed.

“We didn’t have to run, you know?” Ten complains as soon as you’re out and a street or two away. 

“What’s the fun in committing a crime if we don’t get to run?”

“I don’t know, it could be a brain exercise—oh wait. You don’t have one.”

You stick your tongue out at him, walking faster to get away from him.

“Hey!”

He jogs up to you, eyebrows furrowed and ready to spit some sass at you, no doubt.

“I thought you’d be more athletic. Dancing and all.”

“Yeah, no.”

You fix the hair in front of his eyes as he leans over on his knees, a look in his eyes as though caught off guard. They’re a lovely shade of honey, his eyes. They look at you with emotions you can't quite fathom and with the innocence of a love borne between friends who have been forced to endure the mediocrity of this town together. It’s a good reason, you believe, to be friends. Friends are meant to help each other, to save each other and to be there at the lowest. You can check all the boxes. It might have been a while but you’re friends and friends that grow up together stay together. The idea is naive but you cannot possibly look into a future without Ten. There must be a reason behind everything that is given to you. Even right now, as the silence starts to nip at you, you believe you were meant to make full circle. Fate is a funny thing and you wouldn’t believe in it ever, even for a surprise twenty dollar bill vending machine miracle, but it’s comforting enough to let settle on the two of you. 

The lead actors go hand in hand.

“Are you going to keep staring at me? I know I’m tragically beautiful—”

“No, you’re beautifully tragic. Your face, that is.”

“I stopped listening after beautiful, so I believe you agreed with me there.”

You roll your eyes. 

“You and your unyielding confidence can go fuck itself. I’ve seen you cry over a cat movie.”

Ten sputters out a response. “But- but Garfield saved that dog despite every fiber of his being telling him not to. He could’ve lived a happy, peaceful life but he saved him. How is that not incredibly touching?”

“You’re weird. Garfield’s cute though.”

“Like me.”

You wrinkle your nose. “What are we, twelve?”

“I was having my rebellious punk phase then, so no. I would never have said that when I was twelve.”

You laugh. “God, you looked so funny back then.”

“I thought we agreed to not bring up stuff from our teenage years.”

You press your lips together in an attempt to stop the laugh but a tiny giggle comes out anyway. The sun is going to set in an hour. You better make use of your time.

“Ready to go vandalize some posters?” you ask, grinning.

“You know what? I have a better idea. We should go pick some flowers.”

You blink at him. “That’s not remotely punk or rebellious.”

“Shh. You like picking flowers. Remember how we used to joke you should be hired at weddings instead of the flower girls?”

You make a face. “Why on earth would I fling flowers in the air at weddings? That’s not even a respectable job.”

“It suits you.”

“We should be kinder to our arboreal friends.” You cross your arms. “I’d rather tend to a garden than pick flowers for stupid occasions.”

“Tree-hugger.”

You pull up your middle finger and he laughs, fixing his hair right back into the messy waves.

“Why do you hate weddings?” he asks all of a sudden.

“Oh, you know. Icky stuff.”

“No one’s having sex at the wedding.”

“That’s not what I meant by icky stuff. It’s that gross feeling in the air. What’s it called?”

“Love?”

“Please, there’s hardly any love at weddings. It’s all pretend.”

Ten rolls his eyes, chuckling. “You think all the brides and bridegrooms in the world are pretending at their own weddings?”

“If you say it like that…” You grumble. “I don’t believe you need to celebrate love, that’s all. It’s always there, you know?”

You look up to see Ten pressing his fist to his mouth to keep himself from laughing and scoff in disbelief.

“What’s so funny? Seriously, stop laughing—oh for fuck’s sake.”

Soon enough, Ten is crouching by the sidewalk in a fit of laughter which causes a hot flush rising over your neck. You weren’t trying to be cheesy. Now, your best friend is hellbent on making you feel embarrassed. 

“It wasn’t that cringe. Come on. Get up, asshole.”

“You were- you were just so—” He takes a moment to catch his breath, a few short laughs erupting from him nonetheless. “You looked so serious when you said that.”

Your face is hot enough for you to look away now. “Whatever,” you mumble.

“It was cute. You looked really cute,” he continues, somewhat sobered up. “And brave. You always say things with so much confidence that it’s brave. I’m glad you are the way you are.”

You look at him, slightly dazed before your cheeks puff up to prevent yourself from laughing.

“I regret saying that. You are the big, hideous regret of my life.”

“I thought I was cute?” Your snickers turn into laughter again.

“Fuck off.”

“Thanks, Ten. You’re really good to me.”

Ten shakes his head before walking away, leaving you to call after him in phrases of ‘wait up!’ and ‘when did you get so fast?’ as you try to catch up. You sometimes wonder if he likes being chased. You reach the busiest crossing in this town, with about four cars waiting at the stop sign. You’re not sure why anyone follows the traffic rules if there isn’t even any traffic.

Looking up, you gasp at the moon peeking over a still young sky. You're suddenly reminded of those afternoon naps you had in Ten’s room, the both of you fascinated by the idea of waking up and seeing the sky a whole different colour. The idea that time changes everything was still fresh in your minds then, the impact gentle if not loving. It’s quite late you found that time can steal just as much as it gives.

“Remember when we dyed your hair red?”

“I will, and I shit you not, physically assault you for saying anything about that.”

You laugh at the memory of his awkward hairdo. “No, the other time. When we were seventeen.”

“Oh yeah, I received like eight love letters for that.”

“No, you didn’t.”

He did look pretty, and just in time for Valentine’s day’s theme of red roses and nauseating pink hearts.

“I have proof.” Ten leans his elbow against the street lamp, missing it completely and stumbling backwards till he regains his balance. He gives you an impish smile, running a hand through his hair and breathing out. 

You roll your eyes, ignoring his words. “I think we never took pictures of that.”

“So… what are you suggesting?”

“One good picture,” you answer, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of him off guard. Looking at it, you pout. It’s so unfair that he gets to look nice even in a hazy evening picture. 

Ten rolls his eyes, snatching your phone. “Let me show you how to take good pictures. Not whatever crap you have going on.”

You cross your arms, huffing but agree nonetheless when he forces you to pose by the street light. He blabbers on something about composition and colours that goes straight over your head but you can’t deny that the picture came out ridiculously well. You might have to change all your socials with a new profile picture.

“See? You can thank me with a kiss,” he says, a cheeky smile across his face.

You press your lips to his cheek in a swift motion, a smack sound resounding from it. It was uncalled for, you think, because Ten freezes for a few seconds in an uncharacteristic manner. He shakes his head, a scream dying in his throat before turning to you with the most scandalized look.

“Oh my god, what did you do that for?” he says, rubbing at his cheek in a teasing manner.

You wrap your arms around him, furthering his protests although he ends up smiling wide. “You asked for it, honey.”

“Nicknames are my thing. Stop trying to copy me, it’s embarrassing.”

"Okay, now let's take a picture together," you suggest pulling him closer.

He clicks his tongue and takes the phone from you, and when his hand rests upon the small of your back, you try to freeze up. His face is near yours, not unlike the usual but you feel your heartbeat hike up. It's a strange feeling.

"Now, can we go home?" Ten asks, handing you your phone. "I can't believe your background is rilakkuma."

"I'll change it," you respond, voice strangely quiet. You're only half smiling but Ten's smile is full and bright, eyes honey-pure. "To us."

Ten hums in satisfaction and offers his hand like a gentleman from another century, something you tend to exaggerate and you take it with a laugh. The two of you walk with entangled arms and playful skips over the pavement, getting the same old looks from passersby as you did as children and teenagers. The traffic lights glow a gentle hue below the mature blue evening sky, fading easily. You realize as gently as waves lapping at the shore that you missed Ten so bad it still hurts in the hole he left. 

act ii scene ii.

Any weekend in a boring little town of flowers starts with the news of parties. It used to be Johnny sending invites but now it’s mostly just Yukhei calling people for impromptu college parties. Now, you are aware that college parties are horrendous in every shape and form; you are also aware that the two hour car ride to the city college isn’t safe. But it’s easy to ignore hackneyed advice to stay away from parties and alcohol and weed when you’re young and have a ridiculously large group of friends.

The drive isn’t the worst part. At least the drive to the party isn’t; the drive back is usually too hazed to be memorable. Sicheng’s driving this time and with a lot of grumbling but he gets enough pitiful pats to the back and cheek to stop it. Ten has his feet up on the dashboard, having called shotgun before you by one fucking second. You’re stuck with Sooyoung and Johnny in the backseat, sandwiched uncomfortably at that, but you lean forward enough to nag Ten the whole time.

“(name),” Sooyoung calls in a sing-song voice. “Your overly affectionate looks for Ten are showing and it’s not even eleven yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows, stammering out a response and regretting it immediately. “You’re- You’ve been teasing me about this forever.”

“No, she’s right,” Johnny joins in. “Come on, there isn’t even alcohol involved. Yet.”

You roll your eyes, shrinking into yourself as the two of them laugh on either side of you. Sicheng says something along the lines of ‘nauseating’ and ‘idiotic’ but he gets an elbow jab from Ten.

“I’m driving,” he hisses.

“Into every sidewalk we come across?” Ten shoots back.

Another bout of laughter rings through, and this time you can smile too. It’s not that you’re particularly bothered by the teasing; it’s just uncharted territories you have no desire to chart. You always thought you’d meet Prince Charming on a balcony in a summer evening, and this is optional, but it should happen with ‘Love Story’ by Taylor Swift playing in the background. It’s quite inane to assume it would be your best friend, whom you have spent countless summer evenings listening to old Taylor Swift songs with.

Before you were aware of college house parties, you thought things like these would be more of a less-people-more-booze sort of situation. Turns out, the alcohol to people ratio is nearly the same. Stumbling out of the entrance to the frat house, Yukhei greets the lot of you with a dazed smile before promptly throwing up into the bushes. Rolling your eyes, you pat his back while Sooyoung gets some water from her purse.

“How many drinks was it this time, Yukhei?” Ten teases. “Half? Three-quarters? No wait, that’s a stretch.”

“Very funny,” Yukhei mutters, somehow still upbeat despite his continuous retching. “I bet you’d be drunk after a shot of whatever the hell I had too.”

Adjusting his jacket, Ten narrows his eyes at Yukhei with an incredulous look. “Okay, you’re on. Let’s go.”

Sicheng raises his hands alarmed, but Ten has disappeared into the swarms of people before any sound can leave him.

“He was supposed to drive on the way back,” Sicheng complains. He opens his mouth in sudden realization and then turns to you. You look from him to Johnny and Sooyoung who share a look and walk briskly into the party with a thumbs-up gesture.

“Oh. Oh no,” you say.

“No, yes,” Sicheng responds.

You shake your head and laugh before sprinting inside, Sicheng’s yells of protest fading out.

Yukhei wasn’t kidding when he said his frat hosts the craziest parties. There’s far too many people here, at least far too many for Ten to have fun. You like the energy of the crowd though, all in their own zones and dancing to old party pop songs. The smell of alcohol hits you so strong at first that you have to take a breather in the little garden space they have. It’s more of an overgrown shrubbery instead of a garden but any green will do. Walking back in, you feel much more comfortable when you take a shot of vodka from a girl passed out on the couch. Laughing, you look around for familiar faces. Parties, however, are not the place to look for faces at all. You think you just spotted a fur neck warmer tied around a dude’s waist while he performs some Neanderthal variant of belly dancing.

You bump into a guy of fairly tall stature, a polite apology tumbling from his lips.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you chuckle in amusement. “You’re not a party kind of guy, are you?”

He stares at you with a placid expression, intrigued. “And how would you know?”

“First, you’re not drunk. Two, you look grossed out by those dudes on the bar table. Three, you’re making conversation with me instead of dancing.”

“So you’re saying I can’t make conversation and dance at the same time.”

“I’m sorry, Mister, but you look like you’d rather not dance at all.”

He laughs. “That’s your way of saying I have a stick up my ass, isn’t it?”

You shrug, giving him your friendliest smile. “I prefer talking to drinking too. What’s your name? I need to know the name of the only sober guy in here.”

“Doyoung,” he answers. “Something tells me you’re not going to give me the same pleasure of knowing your name.”

You smile, pressing your index finger to your lips. “Names at parties are better left unknown.”

Something about him is inherently attractive, and you find yourself drawing nearer. Perhaps you could have a more fun night this way. “It’s much more fun to guess. Now, I’m guessing your party-loving best friend dragged you in here so you could get laid.”

He sighs, smiling at you. “I’m actually part of the frat.”

You gasp, hand covering your mouth. “No way.”

“Someone sober has to oversee whatever the hell’s going on here.” He shrugs. “Now, and this isn’t a guess, but you’re not from our college.”

“Nope. I’m from that little flower town nearby.” 

“Ah, I heard there’s a lovely dahlia field there.”

You nod. “And me. Just as lovely.”

You bite your tongue. That was certainly not sexy enough flirting. Ten has been rubbing off on you with his lame comebacks. Doyoung, however, laughs really loud at that. He must have a worse sense of humour than you thought.

You turn sharply at the sound of your name. Ten seems to be waving at you from a table of beer pong, looking rather distressed. You wave back with a bothered look on your face, aggressively signaling for him to handle his shit alone. He pouts and signals more desperately for you to come. Sighing, you turn to Doyoung.

“Sorry,” you say. “My friend seems to be in a pinch. Either that or he’s attention starved again in a record time of eight minutes.”

Doyoung laughs. “I liked talking to you.”

“I liked talking to you too, plot twist.”

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Doyoung smiles at you. "Ah, I tend to forget but someone always comes along and shows me how friendships are made."

With one last smile, you leave him and walk halfway through to Ten before realizing you forgot to ask for Doyoung’s number. It’s too late to turn back now for the crowd blocks your version and you begrudgingly make your way to Ten. So much for your fun night.

“What was so important that you had to pull me away from the only attractive dude in this party?” you say, crossing your arms.

“Who, Doyoung?” he asks. “I’m at least six times hotter. And anyway, help me win this.”

You roll your eyes. If Ten knows Doyoung, you can somehow finagle your way into getting his number.

“I suck at this game,” Ten mutters. “How the hell is it supposed to hit its mark when the cup is so far away?”

“You have shitty aim,” you say, taking the ping pong ball and throwing it right into the cup. Smirking at the dude who’s already wasted on the other side, you turn back to Ten.

“That’s how you play.”

“Maybe you just have magic hands. Kiss my balls for good luck—wait, fuck, I didn’t mean that.”

You throw your head back and laugh at the disgusted look on his face. Sometimes Ten forgets to think before he opens his mouth and it might be surprising, but he does think before most things he says. He’s always been careful in the subtlest ways.

“I hate this game,” Ten says after missing the cup again. 

“Let me teach you,” you say, moving behind him and taking his hand holding the ball. He stiffens before letting you guide the angle of projection as you throw. It lands right in despite the wobbly beginning and you grin at him.

“I’m so done with this party,” he whispers, hands on his hips and stretching much like a cat after a nap.

You giggle. “I didn’t drink enough to forget everything that’s ever hurt me though.”

“You’re hurt?” he asks, before clearing his throat. “If you wanna stay, I’ll stay too.”

“I’m not a child, you know?” you say, smiling incredulously. “I don’t need you babysitting me.”

“I don’t need you talking to any more Doyoungs. You know his body count?”

“That guy?” you ask, jaw dropping.

“It’s not that much actually,” Ten continues, smiling deviously. “More than what you expect from a guy in law though. You can shut your jaw.”

You huff. “How do you know though? Did you sleep with him?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “I would rather eat your baking than sleep with him.”

“Hey.”

Right then, the two of you are approached by a now-sober Yukhei. He must have vomited enough alcohol out of his system by now. Johnny stays beside him with mild worry across his features. Sicheng on the other hand looks like his social battery has drained out already.

“It’s time for a drinking game!” Yukhei tells the two of you. “With the… uh… not so drunk people.”

“So just the five of us? Where’s Sooyoung?”

“Doting over Yeri,” Johnny answers.

“Ah.”

“Let’s play something if you guys actually want me to stay and not die of boredom,” Sicheng mumbles in annoyance.

"Truth or drink?" Yukhei suggests. 

"Hell no," you mutter. "I've had enough of that."

"What, no dare this time," he insists with a wide smile and arms outstretched.

You hum. "What are you curious about anyway? I know you wanna know something."

Yukhei scratches the back of his head before glancing at Ten. "Well… have you two ever… I don't know, experimented with each other? Like you're best friends, right, so no hard feelings."

Ten furrows his brows, a gaze that's somewhere between a glare and a confused look.

"Experiment…?" He asks, almost afraid to.

"In bed," says Yukhei bluntly.

Ten turns a few shades darker in the face, noticeable even under the multi-colored party lights. You, on the other hand, pray your stunned expression isn't mistaken for the embarrassment you feel. You're not sure why the feeling arises.

"(Name) wishes," Ten jokes, playing it off.

You roll your eyes. "You wish, asshole."

Yukhei pulls a face and raises a hand to interrupt. "Please don't start another lover's quarrel."

Sicheng snickers at the side, although you thought he wasn't listening. How on earth does this joke not get old to them?

"Anyway, my question is answered," Yukhei says. "Best friends who are in love with each other cannot sleep together but friends who are not… they can right?"

Sicheng hums in response, a teasing smile already on his lips. Ten groans and places his hand to the back of Sicheng's neck, almost threatening.

"What would you know about sex, Sicheng?" He bickers. "You're like virgin supreme."

You narrow your eyes. "And what would you know?"

Ten opens his mouth then closes it promptly. Sicheng and Yukhei on the other hand break into laughter, mentioning something about digging graves before taking their leave from the two of you. You really don't think either of them should be drinking—considering Yukhei's a lightweight and Sicheng is supposed to drive.

Ten smacks the back of your head and you yelp, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can.

"I was trying to help us there," he complains. "You're so unfun."

You mimic his statement and he tries to pinch you in the cheeks, which you expertly avoid.

"So tell me," you say. "Have you or have you not had sex?"

Ten sighs. "Okay, yeah fine. Guilty. Whatever."

"What happened to no flings in New York?"

"Didn't feel like telling you."

"Oh, I'm so hurt."

The two of you look at each other and burst into laughter, easy to forget the scores of people around you in the moment. 

“So you definitely had a few flings in New York,” you say, crossing your arms with a smug smile.

“Like three, yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “What does it matter?”

Some part of you is satisfied with the way he doesn’t look too interested. It’s the ridiculous part of you. The clementine light over his features make them seem even gentler than usual and you smile, pressing the back of your hand to his cheek.

“Wha—”

“Mhm. Your cheeks are so warm.”

“Oh, so now I’m your personal heater.”

Ten places his hand over yours and your heartbeat hikes, and so easily too when he looks at you with his honey eyes.

“You know what, you’re right. This party’s getting boring.” You look around, as though pretending will help you any better. But then again if Shakespeare was onto something and all the world's a stage, then you never stop pretending, right?

Ten looks at you for a suggestion and the moment pauses, contemplation on both of your faces. 

“Let’s just get Sicheng to drive us back,” you say finally. It’s not like you can stray too far for fear of Sicheng leaving behind the two of you (he’s done that before).

Sicheng jumps at the idea of going back and all of you have to participate in dragging drunk Sooyoung into the car and away from a slightly worn out Yeri. Thanking you and fixing her disheveled hair, she walks back into her own corner to what seems to be aggressively coding on her laptop and flipping the finger to any dude who approaches her. When work calls, you simply cannot hang up.

You and Ten are forced to sit together in the backseat now for Johnny sits shotgun, massaging his forehead from whatever hellsent concoction he made for himself and his friends. The drive is mostly quiet and you lay your head on Ten’s shoulder while Sooyoung snores beside you. It’s quiet like the laps of water between ripples. It feels so secure to stay like this, like the world cannot interrupt. You’ve missed your best friend. You’ve missed him so much.

You and Ten part ways with the others at the crossing and you don’t skip over the path as you used to, with the jovial youth you contained then. No, your steps are slower and perhaps more mature but still in pace with Ten’s just as ever. A cat waits by the entrance to your door, the same calico that has won over your mother’s heart and now waits patiently for treats. In a way, you kept feeding it because you thought of Ten whenever you did.

It seems these days, the only way to get kisses from Ten is to be a cat. He pets the cat with tender strokes and presses his face to its forehead with no fear of cat-borne diseases. 

“Hey, Ten. What about me?” You pucker your lips at him and he presses his palm to your lips instead, snickering.

In these short moments, moments that barely last, do you feel the three years he’s been gone. It’s funny how people change and never realize they do. It’s funny how you’re in awe of every person he becomes.

“I missed your rooftop the most in New York,” Ten says. 

You chuckle. “You hid there when your mom was mad at you.”

“Do you know how many slippers your rooftop has saved me from? I think your rooftop is more of a best friend to me than you are.”

You place your hand over your heart in mock hurt and he shakes his head, grinning.

“Well, let’s prove I’m more worthy of the best friend title then,” you say, grabbing his hand, the skin so soft to you, and dragging him into your house in quiet tiptoes. You remember coming up here back when you pretended to be pirates, when you acted out Shakespeare and when you wanted to forget the world, the terrible, cruel world you found yourself hating often. This is your hiding spot, a safe place. Ten makes it more so. 

Lying down against the rooftop, you trace the sky from star to star. The good thing about small, dimly lit towns is the clear view of the stars. So far from troubles, it must be easy to play the audience. 

“That looks a little like Felis,” Ten says, taking your hand and tracing a particular arrangement of the stars.

“Is that a… cat?”

“Yeah. It’s not a constellation anymore,” he tells you. “But I like to think it is.”

“I wish things never end too,” you mumble. “Like Brooklyn Nine-Nine. Or that new Taylor Swift song. I wish some things went on forever.”

Ten laughs airily. “I wish too.”

You turn to look at him. The curve of his nose is pretty as ever, eyelashes hanging close to the skin of his cheeks as he breathes with eyes closed. There’s a significant number of words you haven’t exchanged yet. There’s so many words you’re holding back.

“You seem tired,” you note.

He hums in response.

“Was New York that hard?”

He opens his eyes to look at you. “A little… tiring, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you can rest now.” You smile and he returns it. 

“I’ve been running for so long and telling myself I’m still dancing,” he says, a sigh escaping afterwards. “I don’t even know where I am anymore.”

“You’re with me,” you respond. “Right here. On my rooftop.”

“Watching the stars again,” he completes, laughing aloud. “God, I wish we were kids again. All I cared about were the flavour of my cereal and how many constellations I could memorize.”

“The stars don’t give a shit about you, Ten,” you tease, repeating the line you used to tell him.

“The stars might not give a shit about us,” he agrees, “But that’s why I’d like to watch them a little longer.” 

“Me too,” you say softly.

You take a deep breath and let it out. These are the moments between the bloom of a flower and when it is picked. These moments are serene and warm and gentle, however ephemeral they may be. These are the moments between the flapping of a butterfly's wings—times when you and Ten fell asleep in detention in fifth grade for something that was very much your fault, or when he pets your head with the biggest grin after pissing you off on purpose or the proximity of the baby blue sky after your latest shopping mall mischief. But the flower will be picked someday. To live is to live in fear, and no matter how you try to buzz out the idea of it, it will come and it will prove itself.

“Sometimes I wish I were an angrier person,” you say quietly.

“What for?”

“They just seem so much more driven.”

“You’re driven enough. I think you do everything right already.”

“Working at plant nurseries, maybe. I’m not even a good enough cashier.”

“Flowers suit you.”

“You know, I could spend my life picking flowers and arranging them if I could,” you say, sitting up. “Everything moves so fast that the garden’s gone by the time I get to smell the flowers. You get me?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “I wish time could stop. Sometimes it does. When I’m on stage.”

“What’s that like?”

“It’s very beautiful,” he whispers, eyes fixed on you.

It's quiet, the sounds of the night filling the space between you and him.

"You know, in dance," he starts, "the most powerful thing you can be is still. It's also the most difficult."

You hum in response. "I find it easy to be still with you though. It's like I don't have to perform anymore, you know?"

Ten laughs. "I know. I wish I could say that about my ambitions."

You place your palms against his cheeks, holding his face gently. You're not sure if it's because you're a little tipsy or Ten's lips that are driving you crazy, but you smile wide.

"You are like a flower," you begin rather wisely. "And spring hasn't arrived yet."

Ten blinks before snorting and then laughing like you just said the stupidest thing ever. 

The downside to getting along like a house on fire is that the house is still on fire and you don’t know what to do about it. Your heart is burning and you want to tell him the words you’re holding back. But if they escape your mouth, the wind might carry it away and leave you with a heavy response. You can’t say anything yet. Not until you’ve mustered enough courage to leave this town behind with him. Not until you have enough financial confidence to fall in love.

“Hey, Ten.”

“Hm? Don’t ask me something stupid and ruin the night.”

You giggle. “Will you stay with me wherever I am?”

“A little overdue but yes, until death do us part.” 

The two of you laugh, shoulders shaking and eyes brimming with an unsaid emotion. This is how you fall in love. You fall in love like flowers blossoming and withering, like you have only each other to withstand the test of time. 

“Should we dance?” Ten offers. “This time, maybe you’ll finally learn to not step on my feet.”

“That just makes me want to step on your feet more.”

It's so easy to fall in love that you fall asleep to the feeling—like the nights after you watched cartoons well past bedtime and thought that Ten was the prettiest boy you'd ever seen, after reading illicit internet horror stories in seventh grade that only made you huddle closer, after creating a pillow fort in the name of memories the night of your graduation when you couldn't say out loud that Ten really is the prettiest boy you know. The feeling slips in like you slip on your night clothes and you forget they were ever off at all. Comfort is a fleeting thing but in that moment, it felt forever.

act ii scene iii.

Halloween is undoubtedly the greatest time to spend with friends. There’s spooky stories shared, an abundance of favourite candies and if you happen to be friends with theatre kids, there’s most certainly a fun play going on. The crisp autumn air is vaguely nostalgic, brimming with memories in this town. 

Evening creeps in and once you’re done with the day’s chores, you get dressed with such speed that your mother has to convince you to slow down. It’s like you’re a kid again, and you'd like to enjoy this morsel of your childhood before you're forced to grow up.

Greeting Ten’s mother as you rush into the house, you run up the stairs and into Ten’s room, opening the door with a loud bang. Somehow, Ten’s scream is louder than that. He’s wearing a towel around his waist (only a towel), hands covering his chest with a horrified look on his face.

"Stop screaming," you say, hands on your hips. "We've seen each other naked, what's the big deal? Actually, do that pitch again, you sound like Meryl Streep from Mamma Mia."

Ten chokes, covering his mouth with his knuckles while he coughs.

"We were like four and a half! How does that count?"

You giggle, turning around. "Change. Quick."

"I mean, you can see if you like, darling," he calls, liltingly. "I know you can't resist me. Ugh. Can't stand all this pining from a friend."

You make a gagging sound and he laughs. It seems like he’s gotten over the initial shock of you barging in. The sound of the wardrobe opening and Ten shuffling through clothes follows. You are glad, however, that he can't see the look on your face. You must be looking ridiculous. You wonder if he can see how tense your shoulders and torso are. This is not the way you wanted to start the evening. Can he tell apart the distinct nervousness in your voice? It's suddenly difficult to play it cool. And isn't playing it cool something you do in front of a crush?

You catch a glimpse of his naked back and it makes you shake your head violently to get rid of the thought. How ridiculous. You can’t be lovers yet.

“Alright, you can turn around. What the fuck are you even supposed to be?”

"Say hello to the wicked witch of the West!" You exclaim, grinning ear to ear when you jump around.

"Oh, you don't have to dress up for that."

Your smile turns into a pout and you pull hard at his still-soft cheeks. He lets out a pained whine, grabbing your wrists and gently tugging them off. His skin turns red easily, however, and you're left with an image of rosy-cheeked Ten just like when you first met.

“You’re a demon spawn,” he hisses, rubbing his sore cheek. 

“No, that’s definitely your thing. Can’t borrow that,” you say, crossing your arms and smiling smugly. “Why aren’t you dressed as one? Actually, why aren’t you dressed as anything?”

Ten shrugs. “I have to wear some ridiculous ghost outfit for the play so I decided I’d rather play the part of a sexy pirate ghost.”

You snort, looking at the half-buttoned white shirt tucked neatly into black trousers. “You? A ghost? A poltergeist is the word you’re looking for.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “If I were a ghost, I’d definitely haunt you for the rest of your life.”

“Okay, ghost boy, let’s get going.” You loop your arms through his and pull him out, leaving in just as much a whirlwind as you walked in. You do walk back in though—to stuff a few of the cookies Ten’s mom baked in your mouth and walk right out with a muffled ‘thank you’ and your hand still around Ten’s wrist.

Arriving at the theatre, Ten catches his breath though he tries to not look worn out before squinting and making a show of searching for something.

“What are you looking for?” You ask, furrowing your eyebrows.

“The train you thought we were going to miss.”

You stick your tongue out and finally let go of his hand. He pulls it to himself, rubbing at his wrist with an exaggerated look of pain. 

“Oh, it’s still intact. Thought I’d have to bid farewell to my dreams of being a professional calligrapher.”

“Eat ink, Ten.”

“Ooh, it’s the rare PG-13 (name). Nice.”

A loud bang emanates from the back entrance, Sicheng looking like a rather mortified Count Dracula (which is strange because Dracula is immortal, right?) with fake blood splattered across his jaw and two little fangs poking out. Ten no wastes no time in complimenting them, making Sicheng rather flustered.

“It was bad enough having to listen to your flirting through the door,” Sicheng mutters. “Get in. Quick. Sooyoung pulled out and we need someone to fill in.”

Your eyes light up and Sicheng is about to deny your wishes when Ten intervenes.

“(name). You get to play a slightly deranged witch with a most definitely existing bloodlust. You in?”

“You bet I am! I was born ready. Except in sixth grade when I had that meh phase and I wasn’t born ready. Then I was born ready again!”

Sicheng makes a face. “Yeah sure, just get in.”

“Aren’t you glad I’m dressed for the occasion?”

“Not really, no.”

Ten whistles when he walks in. “How much fake blood did you guys get?”

“Enough to re-enact Red Wedding from Game of Thrones,” Johnny answers from a corner, in a costume which you can’t tell if it’s a werewolf or just a fursuit. You can never seem to guess when it comes to Johnny.

Ten laughs before turning to you, the sound tuning out. “I have never watched Game of Thrones.”

You pat his shoulder, laughing. In the next moment, Sicheng pushes a script towards you, expecting you to actually read.

“Sicheng, you know I’m going to improvise.”

Sicheng groans. “Shakespeare was right. Hell is empty and all the demons are here.”

Throwing a pointed glare at you when he says the word ‘demons’, he crosses his arms. It’s easy to convince him though—he’s quite amenable when he’s stressed out about details and both you and Ten know he just needs some reassurance and good, gentle shove.

You and Ten sit on either side of him on a really, really worn out couch that you’re not sure can hold the weight of the three of you.

Sicheng holds up his hands in both of your faces before you can open your mouth.

“I feel like the child of a really immature couple who is forced to grow up at a tender age because his parents are so immature.”

“Uh,” Ten starts. “That’s very specific.”

“The character I’m playing has daddy issues,” Sicheng responds casually, and a little out of it. “Actually he’s got mommy issues too. Why am I playing an eight year old?”

“Because children are crap at acting,” Ten answers and you reach your arm to smack the back of his head.

“What? Ow, that hurt.”

“Sicheng, it’s our stupid Halloween play. We do it to have fun,” you say, placing your hand 

“You going all motherly is freaking me out,” Sicheng says, wide eyes staring at you.

“You’re right,” you say, dramatically sighing. “Motherhood changed me. I can’t do evil black magic anymore. Aha! That’s a good dialogue, isn’t it?”

“Harrowing, actually, but I guess that’s what you’re going for.”

You and Ten share a fond smile, laughing to yourselves till Joohyun calls you and gives you basic stage direction. She’s almost never home except for Halloween and it makes the holiday even more exceptional.

“Ready, Wicked Witch of the West?” Ten nudges you before he has to go on stage. 

“Wait, is that actually my character?”

“No. No, it isn’t. For the love of cats—the animal, not the musical—please just keep speaking and make it worse on stage. I need a recording to laugh at.”

You roll your eyes and push him on. He looks so at peace there, the conversation from that night coursing in remembrance. It’s like everything is still, the lack of motion driving him to move. 

You never understand it yourself, however, when you’re on stage. You blabber like an idiot, as Ten says, and the audience laughs and that is it. You don’t experience what he does and it sometimes drives you a little crazy. Of course, you adding a pregnancy narrative to your witch does throw the rest of the cast for a loop but they handle it well. You just have to make sure you run as fast as you can from Joohyun after the play is done.

“Good job there,” Ten snickers after you duck behind a curtain as Joohyun passes by with furrowed brows and a frown. 

“I know right? I’m literally Oscar-worthy,” you whisper-yell and Ten shakes his head.

“Come on.” This time his hand grips your wrist. “I know the best way to sneak out of this theatre.”

Taking a flight of stairs that you were previously unaware of, you plunge into the darkness of what seems to be an attic. Ten turns on the flashlight of his phone and you yelp, the lighting not helping his already spooky makeup. He laughs before navigating through a bunch of boxes. 

“I heard they used to use this room as an execution chamber,” Ten whispers.

“They did not. Get the fuck out of here.”

“Okay fine. I did cry here though after reading an internet article about ill-fated lovers in ancient Asia.”

“Ugh. Truly horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah. Emotions terrify you.”

“They do not.”

Ten stops walking.

“Oh yeah? Got any proof?”

You stop yourself before you can do something embarrassing. The first thought that came to you was to kiss the smug look off his face and it does terrify you. The bastard is right. 

“I… cried at your birthday party.”

“You were six. Everyone cries when they’re six.”

“Alright, fine. I cried after you left.”

The silence makes you look up and for once, you don’t really want Ten to be so speechless. You punch his shoulder lightly.

“I missed you a lot,” you say quietly. “Is that so surprising?”

He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. 

“Hello? Anyone inside?” You knock at his forehead before holding his face between your face. “You’re shivering. It’s pretty cold here.”

“I’m not cold,” he says quickly, the red rising in his face.

“Of course, you’re cold. Your cheeks are aflame, that’s how cold it is.”

Ten shuts off the flashlight and you scream at the abrupt darkness.

“It’s not from the cold,” he mumbles.

Now left with only Ten’s warm hand around your wrist, you let him guide through wherever the hell it is you are before emerging onto the second floor of 1075 Building. 

“What the hell?” You gasp. “Why wasn’t I aware there was a secret passage here? Is this what archaeologists feel like? ”

Ten smiles, in some sort of victory. “You don’t know a lot of things.”

You walk into the empty room, or rather wiggle in through the window—this building used to be some sort of housing apartment before being torn down halfway for renovation. Some ghost stories spooked the workers too much to continue. However, having been here long enough, you know that the only thing haunting this place is the abundance of cats. In fact, you can see a few eyeing the two of you from the other windowsills. The room is fairly well-lit and maintained so you guess the renovation will start again soon.

“You got us pizza?” you exclaim at the pizza boxes and cans of cola resting over a little picnic blanket.

“Yes, I did. Wait, crap, I forgot the candy.”

“Nah, that’s okay.” You show him the Reese’s peanut butter cups and Snickers you had pocketed from some unsuspecting children. They get way too many anyway. This is completely morally justified—you’re doing this to save them from cavities and poor health.

“I can’t believe you’d ever want to escape a theatre,” you say before humming at how good the pizza tastes. Pizza is always better when you’re having it someplace you’re not supposed to be in.

“Sometimes, it’s suffocating.” He finally bites into his pizza, an unreadable look over him. You don’t like it. Shifting closer so that your knees touch, you lean in a little.

“Oh, really? After all that talk about how beautiful it is.”

“It is. It just wears me out sometimes. Like you.”

Ten flushes red immediately. “I didn’t mean it—I, I… uh.”

“Aw, you think I’m beautiful.”

“Gah, I knew you’d say that.”

There’s a pause. 

“I got kicked out, actually,” he says quietly.

“What?”

“I had some disagreements with the writers and… and here I am.”

You look at him in stunned silence. “They did fucking what? I’m going to kill them.”

“No, (name). I was at fault. I overstepped. I guess city air made me a little greedy.”

“You were always greedy though.”

“If that’s your example of sympathy, you are horrible at it. Never try again.”

“Well.” You smile reassuringly. “You’re quite beautiful on stage. Too. Like me, as you said.”

“I’m a performer,” he says, a hint of satisfaction in his voice when he leans in. “You can’t beat me at that.” 

“Then put on a show for me, darling.” You raise an eyebrow, a cocky smile over your lips.

Ten’s cheeks colour. It’s silent for a few moments and you take notice of the lack of distance between your noses, your lips. He seems to lose touch with reality when he gently cups your cheeks and presses his lips to yours. A soft gasp escapes you, not quite ready for the contact.

Ten pulls apart immediately, a look of horror in his eyes.

“I- I’m sorry… I got caught in the—I’m sorry.”

He gets up abruptly and you still sit there in shock. When your senses are back, the room is empty and you hug yourself, feeling colder. God, you’re an idiot. For the first time in your life, you’ve come to your senses and you decide to let the only person you’ve loved walk out the door.

Your texts to him that night aren’t even left on read but you know he’s read the notifications. He always does when he’s avoiding someone. You feel the weight slithering in, pinning you down and making it hard to sleep that night. You have so many things you want to say to him and this time, you’re ready. Even if fate doesn’t let you, you will speak the lines you should have chosen much earlier.

act ii scene iv.

You don’t have anyone to show it to but the news broke you.

The idea of him keeping it all to himself, bearing burdens that are better shared makes your heart collapse its walls into itself. You’re supposed to be there. You were supposed to be there from every pitfall to the top of the world. You were supposed to be at every stage, at every afterparty and for every bout of performance high. You didn’t mean to leave the seat empty.

You were supposed to be there at every rejection and every failure, making fun of all the troubles. 

You get a text from Ten two mornings later to meet up at the new cafe everyone’s been talking about. It takes you the rest of the morning to practise what you’ll say, what you won’t and how you’ll say it. You’ve never done this much for actual plays. But you’re not acting—you just need the words to come out right.

The wall of the cafe is covered in ivy, but you cannot waste time admiring it. Your nerves have the best of you. You stop at the entrance, backtracking to say your entire speech in your head once again. The most important friendship of your life depends on this stupid monologue you came up with a night before in front of the mirror.

“(name).” 

You jump, finding Ten behind you. His nose is a little red from the cold but he looks fine apart from that. You can’t believe you’re early. This might be the first time in your life and you breathe out, slightly more confident.

“Can you… uh, not block the door?”

“Right. Sorry.”

The two of you walk in, a nervous tremble over your fingers but you clasp your hands together tight. He still remembers your favourite drink and you take a moment to try and understand why it’s surprising at all. You wish he never left.

“Ten,” you begin. “If you want to talk about that kiss—”

“Stop. I’m sorry. That was so out of line.” He lets out a distressed sigh, leaning back in the chair. 

“It’s not as bad as you’re making it out to be,” you say quickly. That was not in the speech.

He sits up. “I… Am I taking things too seriously? You’ve been my longest friend, (name). You should tell me.”

You frown. “I didn’t mean it in a harsh way. You just think it’s bad because you kissed your best friend and—”

“No. What do you think?”

You gulp.

“See, (name)? I lied because it fucking hurts right now. I don’t want to play this part.”

“No, Ten. I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you so many things but there’s the city, your job—oh. I- I don’t mean to bring it up if the wound is still fresh. Ten—”

“You don’t understand,” he cuts. “You’ve always been happy here. You’re happy wherever.  I’m not… like… that.”

There’s a pause. You pull your jacket closer, the temperature dropping despite the smell of warm baked goods and hit coffee.

“I thought you knew me,” you whisper coldly. 

Ten looks away. “I don’t. I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. I don’t know anything about anything.” 

You breathe sharply. “Ten, I know the city was tough but it’s all you ever wanted.”

“I don’t know what I want,” he whispers. “I don’t know where I belong and- and it just keeps getting harder.”

Your eyes soften. “At least, you were there at Broadway. You took the first step and maybe… maybe you can make a priority list, you know? Work things out.”

“(name), stop. You keep trying to cheer me up in the wrong way.” He dips his face into his palms, rubbing at it and sighing.

You purse your lips. This conversation is going nowhere and you’re holding onto the last shred of your empathy. You just want him back with you.

“You got to go out there, Ten. You went to college, you went to New York. You got to go out there and live your dreams, for whatever it was worth, while I’m stuck in this nothing town. Forever.”

“That’s… that’s not true,” he says, voice breaking. “You were saving up for college. We would live in the same city, in the same apartment with the cats and the hot pink curtains and a coffee maker—oh god, I’ve ruined it.”

It’s painful. You don’t know what to say. If this were a movie, the beautiful, romantic kind, you’d be confessing your long-kept feelings. But you don’t know. You don’t know anything about anything. It’s been a year and he’s changed in a way you don’t know and you can’t throw it onto him like this. This isn’t a movie, and you don’t have a script. Your practised words are forgotten as soon as they reach the tip of your tongue. 

People change, and you’re holding onto someone he’s already buried. He’s not in love with you; teenage love is shaky, wobbly at the foundation. He misses the years, not you. You’ve known him your whole life and yet a year’s difference makes you see things differently. You were lonely without him. You were lonely when you had to keep yourself from calling him, when you finally decided to stop sending daily texts, when you couldn’t find the same comfort in any of your other friends. You hurt him and now, you have to face it.

You pick wilting flowers at an overgrown garden. 

No, even if it isn’t you, you want him. You want him and him only, the years be damned. The past pales in comparison to what is now.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurt. “I was just shocked last night because I didn’t think you were in love with me.”

“You’re not in love with me,” he counters. “You’ve been in love with so many people but none of them were me.”

“You. It’s you—oh my god, it was always you.”

Ten glances at his untouched cup, yet undecided on what to do with his fingers when they stop tapping against the bright red plastic table abruptly.

“So what? So what if it was me? I don’t know what it’s like to play that part.”

You breathe out. There’s a silence between the two of you, one which you remember hanging stars upon. Now it's quiet in a way that has nothing to do with astronomy, or art, or music or anything, really. It’s empty. Like every other silence.

“I loved you,” you whisper in an attempt that is more delirious than for closure. “Do you really not know what that’s like?”

Ten shakes his head. “I… I don’t.”

The memories of him smiling under the sun, only memories keep your tears from brimming up. There was meant to be closure. There was meant to be an explanation. You were supposed to be closing that door you opened into each other. Ten looks at your shaking hands and for a moment, you think he might even reach out and warm them up with his sunlit ones. You press them to your face and breathe into them.

“You brought me all the way here to lie to me?”

Ten furrows his eyebrows.

“I’m not lying—I can’t care about you. You know that, right? I’ll ruin your life. Like I’ve ruined mine.”

You laugh, partly in exasperation and partly as an attempt to alleviate the pain in your chest. 

“You’re my boy. I know you better than anything else I know.”

“Don’t- Don’t do that. Don’t make me want something more.”

"Why would you kiss me?" You bite down your lip to stop yourself from crying.

Ten seems at a loss for words, looking at you with parted lips and guilty eyes. 

"I love you. I'm sorry."

With your eyes downcast, you take a shaky breath. It's now or never. Never, never, never. The word chimes like wedding bells and you think for a moment, to lie. If you pretend, if you act, you'll live it out. He cannot stay and you cannot leave. What a ridiculous pair you are.

You squeeze your eyes shut, get up and lean over the table to place a kiss against Ten's mouth. You pull away with reluctance, looking at the quiet surprise in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper. "I got… I got caught in the moment."

Ten stares at you soundlessly, mouth moving and yet no words come out. Instead, he runs his fingers through your hair before placing his hand on your cheek and leans in again. There's a red flush over his cheeks and it makes you feel at ease.

"I didn't want to hold you back," you say after parting. "Or at least, that's what I told myself. But this year without you has been so painful."

Ten doesn't say anything.

"I… I didn't know what I felt and- and I was so scared… I didn't mean to hurt you. I hate that I did."

“I was afraid,” he says, breathing out like he was holding it in. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t care if I came back.” 

Time treats everything poorly. This time, you’ll try your best to win against it. Ten breaks into a wide, relieved smile and you laugh, rubbing at the tears that collected. God, you were so afraid you wouldn't ever be able to talk to each other anymore. Every room you’ve been in without Ten has been so empty that you had stopped opening doors at all. The coffee is hot and tastes better than ever.

//

You dream of something as ridiculous as the love you feel for Ten. 

There's a cat in the sky, made of stars and with a booming, deep voice—and you, you are little and insignificant on a forgotten rooftop. It is serene, in quiet contemplation, and you are looking at it like a neglected child at its mother. You ask something without words and it responds without words. 

All of sudden, the image disappears and you find yourself in a garden, picking flowers. The clothes you wear are not yours, the face you wear is not yours. But Ten, you'd recognise him anywhere, any time, in another lifetime.

You could see the clear distinction between the two of you however. You wore robes of royalty, the auspicious gold embroidery glistening, and he, that of a performing artist in quiet sage green. The blue irises that grew around you paid no heed to your colours and you had the thought that you should be like them. Vivid, smiling and never alone.

Ten greets you with a smile first and then stretches out his arms. You run to him, with enough force to knock the two of you onto the soft, grassy ground. No one will find the two of you here, in this flower bed. You remember thinking that royalty puts on just as much a show as theatre actors.

You didn't have to remember all of it to know that the story was a tragedy, carefully crafted by divine writers and painters. It was cruel, as is every writer's hand. You see him last under a beautiful sunset before an execution, the words ‘please’ on his lips and no hint of resentment in his smile. It was unlike him. It was so unlike him. 

You hug yourself. He shouldn’t have forgiven you so easily. It takes you a few moments to come back to your senses; this is not you. That person in your dreams wasn’t you—why did you have to feel all that pain? That person in your dream watched their lover die—no, let their lover die as though discarding a messed up sketch. Cruel. It was so cruel. 

The burning idea sprouts in your mind that it was the original script. That perhaps you were cruel and he was not and it’s been that way since forever. That if you don’t do something about it, you’ll be the villain once more. It's as scary to be young as it is lively—and not for once, did you ever think that villains were children too.

ACT III: HAPPINESS 

 act iii scene i.

If the world were to end tomorrow, Ten would spend tonight dancing with you. He says it so easily that you forget to tease him about it.

“Not like that,” he instructs, eyebrows furrowed. “Do this.”

“I am doing this.” You huff, crossing your arms.

“No, you’re not—holy shit, your arms are made of lead.”

You punch him in the shoulder and he stumbles, losing his balance. He sits down on his bed, leaning back on his arms and laughs. You join him and sit down on the fuzzy rug. He gets off immediately to sit beside you.

“I mean, you’re not that bad,” he says with a shrug.

You mimic his statement, rolling your eyes and he attacks your side with an unannounced bout of tickling. The last time you did this, you were a foot shorter and no high school dating rumours were flying around. The last time you did this, you didn’t end up kissing, limbs entangled with each other. December feels like June.

Ten pulls away from you, hovering over to kiss you once again before kissing turns into giggling which turns into laughter.

“I like this," you say quietly.

"Kissing me?" He asks with a sly grin.

"It's actually a little disappointing. Thought you'd be a ten at kissing."

"Atrocious. Disgusting. Vile. Never say that to me again."

You stick your tongue out at him and he does the same, the afternoon torpor settling in heavy as you cuddle into each other. It’s nostalgic almost but at the same time, so very new. You want to talk to him for hours and hours but when the hours end, it never feels enough. An ending is what you despise. Your thoughts meander.

“I had a nightmare,” you confess suddenly.

There’s a very brief pause. Before Ten even says anything, his arms reach out, pulling you into him. It’s warm and you smile.

“Was it your own face you saw?”

“Fuck you. You ruined the moment.”

“We were having a moment?”

You elbow him in the gut and he lets out a grunt of pain, the two of you moving away from each other just to glare. Ten caves first, sliding closer to you and placing his palm against your cheek.

“Can we resume our moment?” he asks, eyes crinkling when he smiles.

You press your forehead to his, your breathing in perfect coordination. This feels easy. This feels right. You pull away and look at him, the silence encasing your moment with him.

“I saw you in it. I… I lost you in it.” You bite your lower lip, avoiding his gaze.

“Hey. It was just a bad dream. I’m right here.” Ten draws closer, his breath mingling with yours and the warmth seeps into you just enough to forget the cold night. 

“You know what would cheer me up from a nightmare?” You nudge him.

“If you say visiting the graveyard—god, fuck, you’re gonna say visiting the graveyard. My suggestion is that you see a therapist.”

“I would if I had the money,” you retort.

Ten shrugs before furrowing his eyebrows. “Are we actually going to the graveyard? You know there are like graves there.”

“That’s… why it’s called a graveyard.”

“Don’t get smart with me, you failed seventh grade English.”

“You failed sixth grade math, Ten. Sixth grade. They teach you like fractions and shit then.”

“Do I look like I need to add three-fourths and one-eighths ever in my life?”

You shake your head before getting up with a burst of energy, and pick up your jacket from his bed. 

“Let’s go! Let’s go!” You start to chant at Ten until he reluctantly gets up. The sun is quite far from setting down yet and everyone knows the perfect time to visit a grave is twilight. Maybe the stone will give your life enough perspective to ease your anxious thoughts.

//

The town cemetery is located by the bed of dahlias which have withered in the seasonal cycle of life and death. There’s a light breeze and your jacket is just enough to withstand it. The sky is orange and pink and the graveyard doesn’t seem as looming as it does in the dead of night (which you know because you’ve visited at two in the morning on a stupid bet with Johnny and somehow Ten was the one scared shitless). You’ve heard stories of the soldiers who were buried here, the women who led the first revolution and everyone else who never got to grace history books. You’ve never enjoyed history much but you can’t gainsay that it puts everything into perspective.

Nothing else matters at the wedding altar and at the grave. 

Ten makes a face at the iron gates of the cemetery. “Okay. We’ve had our adventure. Can we please go get our evening snacks?”

“I love it when you’re antsy, Ten.”

He gives you a sardonic smile. “And I like it better when we’re in my bedroom.”

You gasp dramatically, placing your hand in front of your mouth lightly. “That’s quite scandalous of you, good sir.”

He smiles, eyes crinkling. “I consider myself something of a modern man, you see?”

You skip over the steps to the gates and do a curtsy before gesturing to the entrance. He complies with a sigh of reluctance and lets you take his hand as you pull him in. 

A loud voice startles the two of you and Ten smacks his mouth before he can scream and embarrass himself.

“What business do you have here, trespassers?” The voice echoes through the graveyard.

You look around at the trees and squint at what seems to be some children wearing masks and giggling to themselves. You roll your eyes. Johnny told you some of the town kids were mucking about near the graveyard to spook passersby. 

“You really should get back home for dinner, kids,” you say, crossing your arms.

“Silence, trespasser! You will answer our questions to pass.”

Ten bites back a laugh. “Alright, kids. Shoot.”

“Are the two of you criminals married?”

Ten wrinkles his nose. “Do we look that old?”

“Okay! Next question. Did the two of you ever… do it?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head. 

Ten groans. “You can say sex, you know? Don’t be pussies.”

You elbow him in the side and he yelps. 

“Those are kids,” you whisper.

“I think they’re old enough if they’re asking,” he whispers back.

“No,” you answer the same time he answers “Yes”.

“What?” You look at him in surprise. 

He shrugs, somewhat guilty. “New York,” he responds in a meek voice. “You know?”

You snicker before it turns to laughter. “Why do you look like that? It’s not a crime to have sex—how the fuck did you even get some though?”

“It’s called having sex appeal. Ever heard of it?”

You roll your eyes, opening your mouth to say something when one of the kids clears his throat.

“Okay! You may pass.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “You really just the wanted to ask us about sex, didn’t you?”

“Let’s go, boys!” The kid declares before stopping abruptly. “And girl.”

A group of kids emerges from behind the trees and flock to a hole in the stone wall, laughing amongst themselves as they run out.

“Wow. Kids these days, huh?” Ten says.

“When we were their age, we convinced Yukhei to poke a beehive.”

“Okay, we were asshole kids but no one ever really told us bees were deadly.”

You walk further into the graveyard, beelining towards the same graves you visit often. They’re unnamed but they died sometime in the nineteenth century. Time passes in a way that is hard to comprehend—all these people and stories are never remembered and time is the only witness. Perspective is a luxury to those who have the time to look.

“Why do you like coming here?” Ten asks quietly, eyeing the gravestones with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“For perspective,” you answer truthfully.

He hums, a somewhat understanding note in his voice.

“They only lived for twenty-four years,” you note.

“The world ends too soon sometimes.”

“Kind of sucks.”

“Really sucks.”

The wind is cold when it passes the two of you by. Ten shivers and zips his jacket before checking up on you, fixing your jacket to cover you better.

“When I leave this place, I hope I have a nice farewell,” you whisper.

Ten raises his eyebrow. “Don’t you want it to be an awful, everyone’s-crying sort of affair?”

“No,” you respond, giving him a confused look.

“I want at least one person to be crying,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“That’s kind of—wait a minute.” You glare at him. “You don’t have to use that against me. I wasn’t crying crying.”

“I’m not! I mean it. Like, I want to mean something to someone.”

You draw near enough to link your arms, sighing at the warmth emanating.

“And you’re lying. I know you sobbed right into the pillow like a dramatic ass Disney princess.”

“You’re the one with a flair for drama.” You chuckle.

Ten makes a reluctant sound of agreement, crossing his arms. As he looks at the graves, there’s an expression on his face you can’t quite fathom. It could be mourning—but the graves are nameless, or it could be pity—but he believes that pity is not a positive emotion to feel. You want to ask but something keeps you from it. Something tells you that the answer won’t be pleasant for either of you.

“I hope I cry too,” he whispers. “When I leave and the curtain falls and the world ends.”

You look at him, pondering.

“When I leave,” he begins again, “I want it to hurt. When everything changes, I want it to hurt bad. Then I know it meant something.”

You slip your hand into his and squeeze. “If it means anything, you know I’ll cry if you leave.”

Ten laughs. “Yeah. So when you cried, was it the ugly snot cry or the silently sobbing kind of cry?”

“Fuck off.”

He opens his mouth to retort but gets a full kiss on the mouth instead, good enough to make him forget it. It’s a nice thing to get used to. If time permits, you could do everything together forever.

You return at twilight, grabbing some snacks and arguing whose Netflix account to use and the sun sets before you come to an agreement but it’s not winter anymore inside his room. In fact, it doesn’t feel like winter at all till you look outside and see the naked trees and darker skies, and you remember when you decided last year that you don’t like winter. 

Before you can have a change of heart, you turn to him with sparkling eyes.

He smiles before you even say anything, reading your face as easily as the back of his hand. “You have good news? Or, like, a gift?” Chuckling in breaks, he runs his fingers through your hair.

“I just wanted to talk about our future.”

“Hm?” He seems a little surprised.

“I’m sure we’ll work something out for the both of us. I have faith in you. And in us.”

Ten’s smile falters but he doesn’t let it fall. “I’m glad you do.”

His ringtone startles the two of you just as you lean in, Ten muttering curses at the device. Pausing for a bit when he takes out his phone, he signals you that he needs a minute and leaves you alone in his room. 

Nothing much has changed. There's his cluttered ash wood desk with sketchbooks of varying sizes and colours, shelves with small plushies and, you notice carefully, the butterfly pin you stole. Beside it is the panda soft toy you had found at the side of the road walking back from school and felt so bad, you had "adopted" it. You let out a chuckle.

“Ten?” you call, holding the little panda soft toy.

Ten paces outside his room, speaking in a hush. His features are tense, shoulders stiff and eyes focused when he talks to the caller. Noticing you, his eyes soften for a bit and he makes his way towards you.

“I’ll- I’ll talk to you later,” he speaks sharply into the phone.

“Who’s that?” you ask, walking up to him.

“Sicheng,” he replies briskly.

“Oh.” You remember the doll in your hand and pick it up to show him. “Remember how we got this?”

He smiles but something is amiss in his eyes. “Of course I remember.”

Whatever it is, it must not be important. After all, he’s your best friend and best friends tell each other everything. Morning will come and everything will be alright.

//

The night is cold and the moon is missing. The clothes you wear are not your own once again. This dream begins when the sun has just set and you can taste bitter defeat, but of what battle you don’t know yet. 

All you know is that there is a war and you are caught in the crossfire. It hurts; you can’t feel your limbs anymore and another injury won’t matter anymore. Maybe this is the only life you won in.

No one dies in a way that matters. No one dies for anything at all. It just happens and that is a truth lying within the reach of the universe. Yet then again, when you find your last breath escaping you as you hold hands with the love of your life, you think there must be some meaning to it. You’re only twenty-four and you will be buried in a nameless grave for a war that was the fault of neither of you. 

It dawns on you the moment you wake up, brushing away the tears on your cheeks. The universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, until there is nothing left to be remembered.

All you can think then is that you will miss Ten in the next life, and in the next and the next. 

act iii scene ii.

Ten has to tell you. He knows. He knows how the story ends. 

But he’s afraid. He didn’t know how long he’d been walking facing forward till he’d turned around just to find you gone. New York was fun and he made new friends but it’s difficult to be anywhere without you. You’ve been attached at the hip for so long, it’s become strange to be apart.

Ten thinks about the call. The director was very particular about his role and chances come by as rare as diamonds. Ten breathes out heavy in annoyance, covering his eyes with his forearm. He loves sunny winter mornings and this is the worst one he’s ever experienced. He can hear his mom cooking downstairs, the sound soothing and he groans, running his fingers through his hair. 

He should tell you. He knows he should tell you. But fear never walks in on stage with full gusto, it creeps in, slithers in till he feels a shadow behind him on stage and suddenly, he can’t see the lights anymore. Ten is afraid. He is afraid of losing his sense of self to the millions of people he’s played, and to your vibrant world of flowers and colours. You are always front stage centre. You are at the bottom of everything and he can’t let himself fall deep enough. He’s not enough.

Ten turns to face the collection of DVDs on his shelf, untouched since he'd left. What did he start performing for again? Was it the time you and him pretended to be pirates in his room, his bed your gallant ship, or the time he watched his first movie on a sweltering hot summer day, or the time he sang to you the first time (it was a birthday song remix, made by Ten himself). Surely, it was for something beautiful and not for something like greed. At that time, he thought that maybe if he stole enough lives and stuffed it into the gaping hole, it would sate his envy of the people around him. The bright vibrant colours, he made his own and yet still, he feels like a thief with his nimble feet and a stash of paint bottles in his arms. He's not satisfied at all.

It was a sunlit morning and Ten thought to himself, wouldn’t it be nice if he could paint with all the colours of the rainbow? You, who are so full of vibrance, couldn’t understand this epiphany of his.

"You keep getting on my nerves," he mutters in this empty room of his. "Everything you do gets on my nerves."

Ten decides that he’ll tell you this evening. After all, best friends tell each other everything. The theatre means the world to him but the whole world is out there, ready to be his stage. Eventually, this loneliness will turn into a performance and he’ll be grasping at identities trying to find familiarity. He will take his masks off over and over again, and he knows he’ll still be wearing one. He wants to greet you with his real face.

The world spins at the rate of a thousand miles an hour. It never stops, and that must mean everyone on it can’t stop either. 

//

The crows are singing a song, or talking amongst themselves. You can never know. The song is dyed red as the evening, and with a splash of purple. It’s the season to miss flowers and warm hands and the sweet taste of ice cream. You don't know why but the "let's go to the gardens" text from Ten gave you the most awful feeling, much like the morning after your nightmares.

“I have to go back to New York.”

You look up at Ten from the park bench beside the dahlia fields. The flowers are asleep, not in bloom until next autumn. 

“What?”

“I got a call… from someone I know.”

Your first reaction is to smile wide and jump up. “That’s great! You’re not jobless anymore.” You laugh.

But then the corner of your lips twitch and your smile drops. The word ‘goodbye’ hangs at the tip of your tongue and you look at him, slightly perplexed. Ten, who looks at you with so much kindness, will never understand this envy of yours.

“When… when do you come back?”

“I don’t- I don’t know. It depends on how well I do.”

You laugh despite the heavy feeling settling in your chest. “That- Let’s hope your acting is shitty then, hm?”

Ten frowns. “This isn't a joke. For once in your life, can you look at me with sincerity?”

You grit your teeth at his words. 

“I’m trying to lighten the mood, god dammit,” you murmur bitterly.

“And I’m saying you don’t have to.”

There’s something looming over the top of your heads, something eerie like a clock that never stops ticking or a clock that never ticks.

“Can I kiss you?” you ask, surrender in your voice already. 

If you kiss him where you hurt him, will everything be alright? Can you grow the flowers he likes over his scars? Flowers… flowers—which were his favourite again? Irises or daisies? It must have been the prior; you’ve glanced over a hundred times at the endless fields of sleeping blue irises in his sketchbook. And yet, you doubt. Were those flowers chrysanthemums? You’re grasping onto memories and your knuckles are starting to hurt.

Ten looks at you with a gaze that is of the past. He looks at you like he’s mourning, like he’s keeping something grave from you. So you lean in, your lips brushing against his before you can kiss him fully. You want to feel him and for him to feel you, the idea of a relationship foreign and close to you as ever. Even so, you feel like a ghost as you run your fingertips over his skin and through his hair. He knows how to kiss you, how to hold you—and he’s known you for years.

Ten pulls apart for a few moments, breaths weaving into each other. It’s only five centimeters between your lips but it’s still five centimetres. You don’t know if you were meant to be apart or if you were not. The show must go on.

You brush the hair from his face, a lingering smile on your face from the kiss and the way his features align so perfectly. It’s easier to avoid his gaze that way. 

“I’m tired,” he whispers. “I’m so tired. I feel like my skin is losing its grip on my bones. Everything’s falling apart.”

You hum, choking up at the sound of his voice. Soft and yet, so heavy.

He takes a sharp, shaky breath. “I don’t want to go.” 

Forever is the sweetest lie you’ve told each other. 

“You’re going to go,” you pronounce the words into realization. “You’re going to go away again. And I’m going to be right here.”

Your broken heart is making it much more difficult than it should be.

“Don’t go,” you whisper hoarsely. Maybe if this time you didn’t lie. Maybe you’ll be his number one, his lead finally. 

His breathing gets erratic, and he takes a step back to cover his face with his flushed hands. It’s painful to watch him this way and you want to take your words back. But you knew. You knew what the words would result in, what the words would grow into. You feel cruel.

“I… I can’t give up,” he says finally, “I can’t- I can’t. I’m sorry, oh god. Why can’t you come with me? Why do I have to go back alone?”

You swallow, your eyes downcast. 

“I’m not going to wait,” you say finally. “We should… we should stop now. It’s been long enough for us to go our own ways.”

Ten doesn’t move, at a loss for words.

“You… I'm sorry,” he says, choking on his own words. 

Your lips tremble and you wipe at your eyes. He cups your face, thumbs swiping away the tears before you can muster enough strength to push him away. You’re a complete mess, in a way you haven’t been before. Even now, he’s the only one you can face.

“We’re not,” you say, regaining some control over your tongue, “We’re not supposed to be like this. Do you think we would even be friends if we didn’t grow up here together?”

“What- What does that matter?” He furrows his eyebrows, drawing nearer.

“I’m saying that everything could just be a coincidence and maybe… maybe things should just end sometimes.”

You just want to kiss him, in the way a romantic story ends in a sweet kiss and it’s a happy ending.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers. “But if you want distance, I’m giving you thousands of miles of it.”

You clench your jaw. “Don’t blame me for pushing you away.”

Ten throws up his arms in exasperation. “I’m not blaming—why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

“You made me that way,” you answer, pitch low. Your throat hurts. 

Ten looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, baby pink lips in a frown you hate. "I'm sorry. I have to leave."

You nod and let the words 'see you tomorrow' slip the same time 'goodbye' slips his. He turns his back and walks forwards as he always has, and you look in from the same place as you always have. 

Eventually, you get the energy to go home. You greet your colourful room with the same look you always have before something catches your eye. The colour of your room mostly comes from the polaroids stuck to your wall—you and Ten at your high school graduation dancing to Nicki Minaj, Yukhei and you looking done holding the caricatures Ten painted of you, Sicheng and Ten and you after your first theatre performance together. There are so many smiles that you end laughing, a little crazy with the sound. Perhaps spring isn't as far as you think it is. Perhaps you will be okay.

Everything has an end. You know that. It hurts so fucking bad.

Ten was right. Because it hurts this bad, you know it meant something now. It meant the whole world to you. Winter tumbles upon you at full force even as you hold autumn dearly in your arms.

//

This time, you close your eyes to find yourself in a field of dahlias. The dream is meandering with colours and sounds so quiet that you feel like you’re stuck in time. Then a loud vibration resounds throughout the field; it is not a field at all. 

You are sitting atop a bed of stars, in the belly of something much larger than you are. There is a place in the universe for everyone but you cannot find yourself in it. 

So you sit at the places you’ve always known, at gardens and children’s parks, waiting till your hair turns grey and your skin starts to wrinkle. Time flows around you, faster with each second but you sit so still that you're not breathing anymore. You're so jealous of those who move, dance and play. Does it have to be this painful? You don't want to be all these people in your dreams. You want to paint your own mask.

The world is so busy and you are completely still. You think of sunshine in New York and how he must be loving it and for a moment, your plastered lips quirk upward. 

When you wake up, Ten is on a flight to New York with a text that reads: "I'll come back. I promise." The sunset after a farewell—even you understand the beauty of it and so, you watch him chase his dreams into the sunset.

act iii scene iii.

You know an ending scene when you see one. It’s the only scene you didn’t end up sleeping through. But this doesn’t feel like one, no matter how deep the despair runs through you. This third act love was never supposed to work out and yet, something is amiss.

Ten doesn’t come back even when the billboards proudly show his face and he’s the star of the show. In your opinion, he always has been. But people get comfortable in the present, sink their feet into it, and when they do, they forget the past. 

The world spins at a thousand miles per hour but nothing seems to move for you. Everything stops and life goes on.

epilogue.

Your youth starts to run out.

Sorrow grows into anger, then into resentment. You’re not sure what you hate so desperately but you hate it nonetheless. You’re pissed and you don’t know what to do with yourself except wake up shaking and wanting to shout and cry at the world. You were supposed to have Ten by your side even then. Even when you’re against the world, he was supposed to be there. Now you’re all alone in a world that’s crashing and burning, in a world of your own making and in a world that is no longer in the palm of your hand.

You wish you were an angrier person, you wish you could curse and scream and fight as easily as they do in movies. At least he didn't make a villain out of you when he left first. 

You don’t really have nightmares anymore though. When you have nothing to lose, you start to fear less. You tend to a little garden of your own making after Mr. Yang passes away. There’s a quiet funeral and a will written with your name on it. You did spend most of your time there after Ten left. It’s your flower shop now and you can tend to whichever flowers you want to keep alive.

Sometime in your late twenties, you get a call from an old friend. You meet Doyoung at a coffee shop near the college he went to, and he tells you he got your number from Yukhei that night you met. He says he’s glad your number hasn’t changed in all these years—he found it going through his contacts. You find it cute the way he becomes flustered when trying to explain himself. He’s a lawyer now, finished all those tough years to complete his dreams.

It makes you smile. You think that dreams shouldn’t be kept in a bottle but your shelves are full.

You go on dates at the cutest new cafes and the most ambient restaurants, sometimes to amusement parks so you can laugh at his fear of scary rides. It feels like having a friend once again and you cheer up for the better. 

But Doyoung doesn’t understand history the way you do. He doesn’t understand a lot of things—but it’s not something you expect anyway. He’s rich and he doesn’t know what small towns are like. You think you can be in love again. He proposes to you on a yacht and you nod, paralyzed from your fear of the ocean. Your parents are so happy for you that for a brief time, you feel happy too in the shadow of their joy.

You don’t visit your hometown anymore after the wedding. You don’t visit theatres at all.

Sometimes you remember the night at the rooftop after the party with Ten and smile. But it was one night, one thing you did in a lifetime of nights and things you did. It dawns on you just then that loneliness makes you fragile, fragile enough to push people away instead.

Every time you close your eyes, you’re still dancing with him on the rooftop below the stars that are yet to fade from your memory. You now pick wilting flowers at a wilted garden.

“A play?” you ask, confounded. Doyoung has never been one for theatre.

"Your mom said you liked theatre," Doyoung answers, eyes inquisitive.

"Did she now?"

He smiles. "If you've grown out of it—"

"No. No, I've always wanted to watch a show on Broadway."

"That's settled then."

You start to understand the meaning of this place to Ten. You haven't called him in years and you didn't keep in touch after the first year. Life was as busy for him as it was still for you and you understand some of it now. After all, who would ever want to leave this place?

Being a part of the audience runs a chill up your back, with certain memories drawing to the surface of your thoughts as you sink into the seat. It's a popular musical but you can't say you've ever heard of it. Time runs differently in your little bubble. 

It hurts just about as much as you expect it to. Watching Ten on stage hurts so bad you almost look away. The nostalgia scratches at your throat, filling your head with memories you shouldn't be entertaining anymore. You should've kept in touch. You should've done something. You were friends before everything else.

All you want from him now is forgiveness. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with loving him quietly. You’re fine with—

You start to cry before you can do anything about it. Doyoung doesn’t notice beside you, dozed off already to the soft orchestral music.

You must seem delirious, mourning as though you’ve buried a loved one. With a shaky breath, you force yourself to look. It is the tombstone of your childhood love that stands on stage. You were rash. You were so, so young and rash. Your lips tremble again and you cry, chest rising and falling as you remember something so forgotten that it seems a dream, something so warm that’s now six feet under in the cold ground. You mourn.

But he seems happy—and that's all you ever really cared about. That's all you should have cared about.

The play ends on a wonderful musical note and you find yourself in better composure. Shaking Doyoung awake by the shoulder, you look at him expectantly. He seems partly embarrassed to have dozed off and partly apologetic.

"You want to meet Ten?" Doyoung asks quietly.

You blink in surprise.

"You grew up in the same town, right?"

"Yeah… Yeah, we did."

Doyoung smiles. "We went to college at the same place."

"Oh, I know. Most everyone from my town goes to college there actually."

Doyoung hums. 

"He invited me, actually," he says after a while.

"Oh."

It hurts only a little that he didn't invite you first. Did all those years mean nothing beyond a little romance? If you were years younger, you could be chiding him for it. If he were years younger, he would greet you with a Cheshire cat smile.

Backstage smells of sweat. A little perfume and powder but mostly sweat. You know that already. It's just that even the backstage here is grand. 

Ten looks as pretty as ever, even with half the makeup off his face. He looks as pretty as billboard posters, where he was meant to be, and in smiling Instagram posts and articles about how perfect his smile is. He's pretty but in a different sort of way.

Ten doesn't seem surprised. In fact, he greets the two of you with a poster smile. 

"Doyoung," he says first. "(Name). I hope, no wait. You guys better have liked that."

Doyoung laughs. "You'll bully me into liking it even if I didn't."

Ten rolls his eyes. "Law makes you so boring. Or maybe you were always boring."

Doyoung sighs, shaking his head. "Not everyone wants to be the life of the party. There's quite a bunch of wild stories about you on the internet."

Ten snorts. "I don't know why but you saying 'the internet' makes you sound thirty years older."

"There's no arguing with you, is there?"

"Learnt from the best."

You clear your throat. "If the two of you are done with your homoerotic banter…"

Doyoung chokes the same time Ten makes a gagging sound. What the two of them have in common is that they easily become flustered around you.

"I'm going to go wash my face." Doyoung excuses himself, exiting the backstage. 

In any other time or place, it would be fine being just the two of you.

"Ten," you acknowledge. "You look good."

"I always do."

You roll your eyes. "You don't have to mask everything with humour."

"Like you did?"

You fall silent.

“Does it hurt?” you ask.

“It does,” he whispers before raising his voice something more audible. “When I look at your—our old pictures, it does.”

"You've kept them?"

"Of course."

You look at your feet. The reality settles. You’re not going back to the way things were. You’re married to another man. Ten’s not in love with you anymore. If you had taken the step forward back then, if you had kissed him before he took that step back—would things have turned out differently? 

The stars will now gaze at lonely rooftops and empty flower gardens—an audience you never wished to entertain. But now, you're glad to have been part of his play, part of the play you made together.

“Are you happy these days?” he asks. There is no malice, no resentment in his voice.

“Almost,” you answer. “There’s just one thing missing.”

To ask for forgiveness does not mean erasure. You can't move on by letting it go and pretending it was never in the palm of your hand.

“I’m sorry it wasn’t me,” you say quietly, rubbing your forearm.

Ten smiles. “We were a little confused, I think. We wanted to be loved, appreciated and found the easiest way.”

You smile back. “Yeah. It was always easiest with you.”

Ten pauses, looking around with a familiar feline look in his eyes before whispering, “So, Doyoung? Really?”

You straighten, crossing your arms. “He’s really nice. And he’s always asking me how I am, what I ate, and he buys me all the soft toys I want. And he’s a better kisser, by the way.”

Ten places a hand over his heart in mock indignation. “Now, we both know that’s not true.”

You roll your eyes before a short giggle turns into chuckling into laughter, and the two of you find yourself with smiling eyes, the look of childhood on your faces and memories unkempt. 

It is better to grieve than to never have loved anyone enough to. 

It doesn’t hurt anymore but maybe it stopped hurting a long time ago. But it meant something to you, meant so much to you and that's all that makes sense now.

notes.

the words to the play at the beginning of act i scene i is taken from tang xianzu’s preface to his own play, the peony pavilion, however they are not exact quotations. the graveyard scene and the “when everything is gone, i want it to hurt” dialogue are inspired by indie game night in the woods by infinite fall studio and i love that game pls check it out if you have the time and money!!

[love-hatred-stuff]

Just a dream } Lim Sejun [victon]

genre: yandere, mild smut, fluff (,angst?)

warning(s): mentions of killing & stalking, suggestive!, mentions of other idols (subin&byungchan)

word count: about 3.3k

note: If u feel uncomfortable with any of the warnings above, feel free to skip! I will probably do more parts :)

I'm not that good in writing smut but I wanted it to be not too dirty, like there's sexual tension but everything is on a comfortable level

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Third person's POV

at school

Lim Sejun was your best friend, along with his stepbrother Jung Subin. You actually met Sejun through Subin.

At first only Subin was your classmate since 5th grade and you too eventually became really close. And later on, about two years, Sejun joined you because he moved here, when his Mom wanted to marry your other friends Dad.

You never never had romantic feelings for Subin, you just loved him as a friend.

But his stepbrother was something different. It wasn't like you had a crush on him, he just made you so nervous all the time.

You didn't show it, but inside you always slightly get butterflies everytime he stares at you or uses his deep voice to convince you to something.

Not to mention his looks, but he could do many things that made him get most girls attention. Though he never cared about girls except for you.

He was a rather cold person, kept most things to himself and didn't laugh very often. But when he did, it always made you happy aswell.

It was mostly you that made him giggle or smile but you never questioned it.

You were just grateful to have them as your friends. Even though the brothers fought like literally almost all the time.

But what you noticed is that Sejun was very protective over you. What you didn't know was caused by the obsession he had over you.

In the Beginning it was only a little crushing, adoring you secretly. This soon turned into serious, strong feelings, and desire that he kept inside and eventually real love.

Of course you obviously didn't know about his "little" possession, but you were everything to him and nothing would steal you from him.

Anyone that touched you inappropriately, wasn't blessed to live a long life. And he made sure of that. The killing wasn't a big deal for him, as long as you were safe it didn't matter.

School was long over, but you and Sejun were still sitting in the library to do homework and explain math to Subin when he had problems, which was like constantly.

"God, Subin! I explained this to you like a hundred times. It's Sejun's turn now, he is even smarter than me." You groaned at your friends intolerance.

You desperately looked at the dark haired boy, who sat on a chair and concentratedly wrote something on a paper.

When he was just giving you a look with a frown you sighed.

"Help your brother for gods sake! I can't do this anymore. I finished anyways, I could just go if I wanted to." You complained in a whiny manner.

Sejun still looked at you and than shortly at Subin. He shook his head.

"I'm not helping him. He has to learn himself. And he's just my stepbrother. Not my problem." He shrugged and turned to his paper.

Subin just looked absolutely cluelessly at the many numbers and even letters.

"Please Sejun! Your Mom told me to help him. She will think I'm dumb as well!" You continued, to stubborn to give up first.

"Hey!" Subin faked a hurtful look, laying his hand on his heart.

"Sorry, Binnie. But I won't explain this to you again." You touched his shoulder, smiling exclusively.

Now Sejun also noticed the contact between you too and made a noise to seperate you again and get your attention.

Your head turned to him, hoping he changed his mind.

But he just saw one thing at this moment; your thigh that was exposed because of the skirt that had slipped up 'til the beginning of you lace slip.

His eyes fixated on your beautiful legs and his mind went wild automatically. He was aroused immediately, imagining he was the one who could take it off of you.

You didn't bother to look down, where he was looking. You were just thinking he zoned out for a moment at waved your hand on front of his iced eyes.

"Sejun? Are you okay?" You wondered.

When he came back to reality he noticed how tight his jeans felt so suddenly. But managed to look up at you finally.

"Huh? Oh, yes. I will only explain this once to him, and I wanna get a treat." He wanted to compromise.

You waited a moment to process and decide if you wanted to compromise.

"Okay. What do want as your treat?" You asked innocently.

Sejun thought. How could he indirectly say that he wanted to be alone with you?

"You will go with me studiying tomorrow, after school." He grinned, secretly so excited to have you to himself for some hours.

Your eyes widened. Another study session?

"Fine, but why so obsessed with studiying? School's not everything, Junnie." You told him.

He stayed silent. If you knew what I want to do to you right now, Y/N. He thought, very aware of his bulge, growing even harder. But he couldn't do anything about it, he had to hide under the table until it would hopefully disappear.

After about half an hour, he had made everything clear for Subin. Well, supposedly. And the three of you went home.

Subin couldn't hold a moan back as he touched his boner through his black jeans. He hadn't been able to hold back the dirty thoughts of you telling him that you wanted him as much as he did. And now that he was finally home, he could release some of his inholded sexual sounds. He rarely listened to anyone but gladly would accept you as his domme.

He just loved you so much, of course he was craving for your touch. You were his only weakness at this point.

���••

the next day

You could walk to school because your house wasn't that far away. You didn't know that Sejun was always behind you, to make sure you came home safe and to enjoy your pretty features a little longer.

When you arrived and waited for you two only friends and greeted Subin happily with hug and a minute later Sejun with a sweet "Hey." Because you knew he didn't really enjoy skinship.

He greeted back politely. And thought about how pretty you looked again, although he saw you everyday in the same school uniform.

He secretly hated that the girls had to wear skirts in school. So he gave every boy who dared to look at you a second too long a warning glare to fuck off. And if they wouldn't hear, he would made sure they would never look at you again.

It was normal for him, he would keep you forever. And no one would destroy his plan.

~~

School had ended fast and you bid your goodbyes to Subin and went to the library.

You sat down next to each other and your knees would touch every now and then, making Sejun wanting to already moan your name out loud, by just this simple touch.

~~

One hour had passed and you slowly got bored, as you were just too done to concentrate on school stuff any longer.

"Sejun~" You whined, tucking on his blazer.

Holy fuck. He thought. I want you to whine my name like this again.

He tried to not look much affected and hummed as a response to you.

"I'm bored. I don't wanna study anymore. Let's just do something different, yes?" You tried to convince him with puppy eyes.

"What can we do?" He asked quietly, unsure if he would maybe be alowed to touch you a little.

"Kiss?" You said, leaning forward.

It wasn't really your intention but he could see some of your cleavage in this position. He told himself to keep control.

You laughed sweetly. He was so cute when he blushed.

You were just joking. But didn't know he was actually craving for the touch of your lips, just once. Once would be enough and he would be the luckiest man alive.

Now you frowned, he still wasn't looking away from your lips.

"Sejun, I was just jo-" You couldn't finish.

His hands snaked around your waist to sit you on his lap in a fast motion, disrupting you.

Him touching you in this way, affected you more than you wanted to admit.

"What are you doing?" You whispered.

Your butt sat on his thighs, your feet touched the ground. And your faces weren't that far away from each other either.

"I thought you were bored." His raspy voice made you feel the familiar butterflies in your stomach.

"Yeah, but what do want now?" You still whispered, so exited for his next move.

He grabbed your hips with more force, to shove you even further to his face.

A groan escaped his throat at the sudden friction he felt of your core grinding on his.

"You don't wanna know what I want to do to you Y/N."

He let his finger slide over your lower lip.

Why was he so changed all out of the blue?

He had waited for years to feel you right there where you sat on in this moment.

"Do you want me to stay still or move?" You asked as you were ready to risk it all.

You were feeling so out of this world, like someone would have drugged you. But you liked it, yeah, you enjoyed it.

"It's your choice, kitten. But be aware that if you cross a certain line I won't be able told back and take you right here, right now." He warned you in a husky voice, while breathing in all of your body right in his hands.

You let out a whiny moan at his dirty talking. You were kinda ready to get to his limits.

"It's okay, just tell me when I have to stop." You breathed out, against his neck.

As he felt your hot breath hit his exposed skin and at the same time, your hips moving into his he fekt like in heaven.

"Y/N~ah." He moaned out and threw his head back.

He felt like he would come right on the spot.

Between your movements you also let out hitched breaths at the immense pleasure your where giving and receiving, although you both still where having all your clothes on. But you forgot about that long ago.

Your bodys where still rocking together as he was watching all of your little expressions that showed on your face.

Though, at some point when you begin to settle kisses on his neck, jaw and cheeks, he couldn't hold himself back any longer and wanted to warn you again so it wouldn't escalate.

"Y/N, Y/N-ah, stop, it's too much!" He almost cried out for you.

You obeyed and stopped, panting a little.

"It's okay." You stroke his cheek. "We can continue this another time, Junnie." You promised.

His eyes flashed with exitement, as he struggled to come down from this so unreal seeming experience with you.

"I- I will just finish this work sheet. I have to calm down." Sejun told me as he got his ability to talk back.

He never thought, he would be able to find the confidence and touch you like this.

And you even agreed!

It was like a dream.

•••

Well, maybe it really was.

Sejun's POV

"Junnie, wake up!" Y/N shook me gently.

I was suddenly torned from my deep sleep. I breathed out and groaned.

I had dreamed everything?!

I felt so disappointed. I wished it would have happened in reality, it was the most pleasureable thing I had ever experienced in my life.

And it came out as just another wet dream of mine.

At this moment I told myself to be more confident and don't behave like a creep that hated skinship.

I had to be more cool with it, orherwise I would never get what I was craving for desperately.

"Are you okay, Sejun-ah?" She looked at me a bit worried as I still wasn't reacting at all.

But her voice finally brought me back to reality.

"No Y/N, I'm not okay." I answered.

"What is it?" She wondered.

I struggled to come up with an excuse, so I decided to be honest with her.

"You and me, we were here in the library and-"

"Oh, that? You weren't dreaming, Junnie. It happened."

I widened my eyes. It wasn't a dream? I blushed.

"But why did I fell asleep then?" I wanted to know, since it all didn't really made sense.

"You wanted to finish your paper to calm down. Well, it worked, you fell asleep." She explained

Suddenly I remembered. I had never dreamed. It had happened in real life.

Maybe I should consider sleeping more instead of watching her. I thought to myself, it was unacceptable to fall asleep during spending time with her.

•••

Third person's POV

You were sitting in the cafeteria of your Highschool, talking to your two guy friends.

It was a day like every other and everything was normal, except for Sejun's behaviour.

He was getting more confident in touching you but immediately blushed when he noticed that you were looking at him with a concerned face.

It was not like you lost interest or anything, you were still reacting to his teasing as intense as before. But you didn't thought he would want the two of you to keep doing these things.

Everything began two days ago in the library. He was getting more and more crazy for you each second.

Right in the moment he was secretly watching you talking to his stepbrother.

You were pure beauty in his eyes and he couldn't stop looking at your soft features and feminine body.

How you used your whole body while demonstrating something to Subin was something Sejun found absolutely adorable.

Every now and then you also glanced at him so he had to act like he wouldn't been staring at you the whole break long and mostly just nodded when you asked for his opinion or just wanted to include him in the conversation.

Sejun almost forgot to eat while being so busy admiring you.

When the bell rang for third period all the students stood up and he noticed that he wasn't the only one who didn't eat most of his food.

"Y/N you only ate your salad." Sejun walked next to you and pointed at your still full tablet with his finger.

You both were walking the same direction to put your tablets away and turn to your class after.

"Oh yeah, I'm not that hungry." You tried to explain.

But the actual reason was something else. You couldn't ignore Sejun's attentive look on you the whole time. You tried your best to ignore this weird feeling in you stomach but it was difficult when you knew that you had to endure that until you would be home.

"But you need to eat, to have enough energy for class." He pointed out while you made your way to the classroom.

Even if all his actions were meant to be innocent without any dirty intentions, it was hard for you to forget how you were sitting directly on his hard boner and could hear these pornografic sounds coming out of his mouth.

You liked how he had reacted to you in some way. Because no one ever had made you feel so wanted like he did that evening.

And you really gave your best to delete it from your memory but you just couldn't when you saw him every single day and felt how tensed he sometimes was. It reminded you of the Sejun that had called you Kitten.

You noticed you hadn't answered him yet and snapped out of your wild thoughts.

"Yes, I know but I have enough energy left. I promise, Junnie." You assured as you two arrived at the right room.

He just gave you a worried look and settled down on his seat like you did.

The three of you weren't directly seated next to each other but close, so the boys could still have an eye on you.

The teacher came in as well and the lesson began soon after.

Byungchan was sitting next to you since a few days, but you have no problem with that because he's very nice. Sometimes he would try to flirt with you and you would just act like you wouldn't know what he was doing.

He was also very handsome and popular at your school, though that hadn't had any affect on you. You just cared about the work you had to do together, nothing else.

Although... you do blushed when he made you a compliment, simply because you found it charming and sweet of him to care about how you looked.

What you didn't know was that Sejun was on the verge of killing him every single day since he sits next to you.

He even asked himself how to quickly and inconspicuously as possible have this done. So he would get rid of him finally.

He was so angry inside but told himself to keep his control awhile longer. You shouldn't suffer under his death too much so Sejun wanted to wait a little longer and threathen Byungchan first, to better stop flirting with you or else he had to be killed.

After a while the class was dismissed and for you, school had ended already. You completely had missed the time and were happy to be able to leave the school building already.

You packed your stuff and didn't even notice that Sejun was standing in front of you.

While he waited he stared down at you until he finally spoke up.

"Hey, Y/N. Do want to go eat ice-cream and hang out a bit maybe?" He asked as he restlessly scratched his neck.

You looked up, surprised to hear his voice instead of Subin's.

"Umm yeah, sure. But where's Subin?" You wanted to know, furrowing your brows and scanning the room to find you other friend.

"He had to leave early today. Mom told him to do his homework once in a lifetime." Sejun's monotonous voice was back and he was a little sad that you wanted to have Subin with you so badly.

You chuckled and put on your blazer and then your backpack, before you nodded at him to move on.

All students had left the classroom already so you were alone.

He started to shiver instead of leaving the room as he knew that he had to speak about what had happened between you two.

"Y/N.. I think we maybe need to talk." His shy self was back again.

"About what?" You asked, as you were wondering if he really would mention the incident again.

"About that day.. when you and I.." He wasn't able to finish his sentence, he was too insecure.

She probably doesn't want me to touch her anyways. Sejun thought and closed his eyes in brief.

"It's okay, Sejun-ah. We can just forget about it if you want." You patted his shoulder as you weren't really sure what to say or do.

"That's not it, Y/N. I want your permission to my touch. I want to be closer to you and not make you uncomfortable." The black haired boy looked to the ground, expecting you to be grossed out.

"You have my permission Sejun-ah, it's okay with me if you touch me more. I like it because I always enjoy your company. You have to know that, alright?" You gave him a warm smile when he finally found the courage to look at you.

He kept quite and nodded before leaving school with you.

He couldn't say it, but he deeply wanted to hold your hand.

You thought and felt the same so you just took the first step and interwined your hand with his.

You didn't expect this to be more than a close friendship but you enjoyed it anyways. As he always made you feel so safe and loved.

And Sejun was feeling like he just got everything he wanted in a matter of seconds. He would protect you, not caring about the rest of the world.

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I edited the story cover by myself but the pictures are not mine (so is the gif), credits to the owners :)

[eunsoyi]

hiiiii since your request are open i would like to ask something too 🥺 can you please make a oneshot/hc/drables at how tsukishima finally realize he have a crush on f! reader and how he act around her? because they are basically rival and always on each other throat but at the end of their highschool year tsukki confess his feelings and they finally make it together 🥺 thank u very much! have a nice day ❤️

she was the most annoying person tsukishima kei had ever met.

he wasn’t really the type to pay attention to his surroundings, especially when the surroundings in question do not concern him in any way. to put into simpler words, if one isn’t yamaguchi, the karasuno volleyball team, or his studies, then expect that he isn’t going to give that something or someone a second glance.

oh but this girl pissed him off a lot.

she was relatively okay when not looking at kei’s persepctive. she’s very friendly, very smart, somewhat athletic, probably musically inclined, too. she’s also somehow conventionally attractive. she’s basically the stereotypical perfect japanese school girl that people see in anime. she’s a goddess and a sweetheart in every way.

and tsukishima kei hated that. he looked at her as if she were a challenge waiting to be dominated by him. he wanted to bring out the worst in this girl. so naturally, he spent every day teasing her, mocking her every move.

at first, she didn’t really seem to mind. she kept her composure and at times, even ignored his snarky comments, but all humans have their limits. her perfectly structured walls break down when kei opens his mouth, and for some reason, everyone in class just accepted their dynamic.

“you got a 98 in math? what a dumbass.” kei smirked as he waved his test paper in front of her face.

“fuck off, you french fry.” she rolled her eyes, trying not to look at the big red 99 on the top right of his paper.

“shut up, both of you. i got a 50. a fifty. i failed that fucking exam.” yamaguchi chimed in, attempting to end the conversation between the two that might lead into something worse.

“even your comebacks are lame, just like your damn grades. try harder, y/n. you’re better than that.”

“i’m not really in the mood, tsukishima.”

“aw, is it that time of the month?”

“can you please leave me alone?” she gritted her teeth, emphasizing the word ‘please’. her eyes looked desperate and well, frustrated. usually, that was the ideal look tsukishima wanted to see, but everyone is already staring at the both of you quietly, and he noticed her eyes well up with tears. he was about to say something when she suddenly bolted out of the room.

“you might’ve struck a nerve today, tsukki.” yamaguchi sighed and pat tsukishima’s shoulder. “just remember to apologize later.”

“whatever, yamaguchi.”

she didn’t come back for the next period. and the next. she was gone for the whole day. he didn’t try to think about it and instead tried to enjoy her absence. after all, that’s what he wanted since the beginning.

he walked towards the club room with yamaguchi when he noticed a figure sitting behind the gym, knees up covering their whole face, that person looked like they’re crying. he couldn’t care less if that was a normal day, but the person seemed so familiar that he had to go out and check.

he ran out of the club room without a word and bolted towards where the figure was hypothetically crying. lo and behold, his hunches were right.

“ah, there you are.” tsukishima tried to sound snarky and gave a smirk. he didn’t know if he pulled that off.

“shut up.”

“okay, jeez. so it is that time of the month.”

she didn’t reply.

he sighed and sat beside her, offering her his handkerchief without even looking at her direction or saying a word. she gazed at the handkerchief rather confused, but accepted it and muttered a small ‘thanks’. he tried to hide the blush forming on his face by clearing his throat.

the two of them sat in silence for a good few minutes until she suddenly spoke.

“are you high?”

he scoffed. “what the fuck, y/n. drugs are illegal.”

she squinted her eyes in suspicion. “then. . why are you acting so nice?”

“then why are you crying?”

she zipped her lips up immediately.

“none of your business.”

he sighed. “look, i’m sorry if i ever said something offensive.” he stood up and tried to leave as fast as he could because what he just said was enough reason for him to bury himself alive. “wait!” she stood up and held his arm, trying to stop himself from walking away.

“it’s not your fault.” she said in a rare, soft voice that tsukishima has never heard her use. “it’s well. . just a bad day in general. i just got fed up with everything and. . i’m sorry i lashed out on you.”

“oh. . kay.”

they stood in silence once more until he spoke in another attempt to get out of that awkward situation once more.

“i’m gonna go now.” he pointed awkwardly to the gym. she nodded and watched him trail off.

tsukishima didn’t tell yamaguchi why he walked into practice with an awfully red face. he also didn’t tell him why he never fought or argued with her the next day, and the days after that.

hope you liked it, anon! requests are still open!