#maybe someone smarter than me will help me figure some shoot out

[nyantodamax145]

I JUST FINISHED THE STULTIFERA NAVIS STORY AND I HAVE THOUGHTS.

Let me preface this by saying that I am also part of the demographic of “EN Sucks at Reading”. Well, I can *read*, but I kind of suck at interpreting characters sometimes so bear with me and share your thoughts because I’m very bad at literary analysis and can only understand surface level themes without anyone to guide me but I’m trying my best

I

LOVED IT

And not JUST because my husband played a pivotal role in the event okay

Spoilers under the cut!

I haven’t played through Under Tides yet so I’m missing a teeny bit of context, but oh my god

Laurentina “waking up” and recovering her memories? Alphonso and Garcia doomed to sixty years alone aboard the Stultifera Navis and sailing her towards her slow decay? High Inquisitor Dario’s sacrifice and the light of his lantern refusing the burn out, JORDI being WAY MORE TALENTED THAN HE GIVES HIMSELF CREDIT FOR, STRAIGHT UP REPAIRING A LIGHTHOUSE AND A BOAT BASED ON OLD BLUEPRINTS AND FINDING THE STULTIFERA NAVIS AND SAVING ALL THREE HUNTERS AND IRENE AAAAA

Wait ok let me try to gather my thoughts cause there’s specific things I want to talk about.

Thiago being unwilling to let the Inquisition into his town because he still held a grudge against them ultimately led to his death. He wanted to puppet the Church of the Deep who had infiltrated Gran Faro into pushing the Inquisition out of the town, but was selfish; he wanted to have his cake and eat it too; he wanted to preserve Gran Faro and its legacy, but in the process he let the Seaborn fester and take over the whole place silently, while the Inquisition couldn’t do anything to help because he was simply a stubborn old man. It’s doubly ironic because as Carmen reveals, his Aegir wife was also a part of the Church of the Deep. I would like the theorize that his wife was the one who perpetrated the spread of the Nethersea Brand in Gran Faro, but that’s just headcanon.

Laurentina and Amaia. They’re connected to each other through the Seaborn Cells in their body, and the experiments Specter was put through, and in many ways you could consider Amaia “Specter’s” creator in a sense. Laurentina and Specter really are two different people, and we can see the moment Specter disappears and Laurentina wakes up. But even after Amaia “becomes one” with the Seaborn, Laurentina still calls the abomination by the name of “Amaia”, and I wonder if it’s due to a lingering sense of connection, if only in the sense that they are mortal enemies. It’s kind of like Laurentina knows that Amaia is still in there. Which, well she is, she became part of We Many.

I seem to have missed a critical piece of information regarding Skadi that was covered in Under Tides, so I’ll be skipping over that. Once the Under Tides record restoration comes around I know what I’ll be up to.

JORDI! MY GOD YOU DID SO WELL! Can you imagine piecing together incredibly complex technology only through luck, instinct, and some tattered, centuries old blueprints?! He says he’s an ordinary person but what kind of ordinary person can do all that?! He’s at the very least got incredible skill to interpret old blueprints, and make something as old as that lighthouse to work! Like AAAAAAA I’M PROUD OF YOU ALSO YOU NEED MANY BLANKETS AND SNUGGLES YOU HAVE SO MUCH TRAUMA.

Irene reporting to Dario’s lantern at the very end made me cry ok. She wanted her Maestro to know that she gave it her all, and although the conclusion wasn’t satisfactory she still accomplished a lot. It hurts to know that she had to find out through the very things she was fighting, the things she saw as abominations of sin. It’s like the refused to believe it until she saw Saint Carmen’s face and accepted it.

And the fact that the Stultifera was circling above an Aegir City the whole time… so close, yet so far. The Abyssal Hunters both succeeded and failed, and while they found “home”, they couldn’t return.

There’s… a lot. And I’m no good at literary analysis. I just point out things that I like…

It’s 11 pm, I’m tired, and I’m trying to process everything I just read.

[saibug1022]

A Funeral of Faith

Word Count: 1.5k

Aerin Valleros x Asterin Nightbloom (MMC), referenced Tyril x Asterin and Mal x Asterin

Author's Note: I am once again bringing you writing based on a random tumblr concept from someone else, this time by @itlovesinthewoods and it's an entire au with Dark Asterin

Asterin wasn't deaf. He heard the sounds of combat echoing through the Palace halls but he was honestly too busy to care. He didn't particularly need to care. He knew if their soldiers couldn't handle it then he could. He turned back to the map spread on the large table in the middle of the throne room. His finger idly traced the canyons to the south, mind already working. Maybe they could-

Click!

Asterin looked up as the door opened and a figure slipped through before quickly shutting it behind them. He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised actually. This was not who he'd been expecting, and certainly not this subtly.

"What are you doing here, Aerin?" Asterin wondered idly as he went back to studying the map. They really needed more archers at Flotilla now that he looked at it. And a bigger navy. 

"Asterin?" Aerin whispered and Asterin had to bite back a laugh. "I'm uh, I'm here to rescue you?"

"You sound so sure," Asterin snickered. Maybe they could divert some from Port Parnassus? 

"Well I wasn't really expecting…this," Aerin admitted. Asterin sighed and looked up, bracing his hands on the table. 

"Look, thanks for the attempted rescue but I'm fine," Asterin waved off the former prince. "I'm busy now though so go defend Morella or hide under a tree or stab your friends in the back or however it is you spend your time now."

"What's gotten into you?!" Aerin demanded. He hurried to Asterin's side and grabbed his hand. Asterin raised an eyebrow at the touch but he didn't move his hand. Yet. "I don't know what Valax did to you but we need to go now. The others can only distract the soldiers for so long."

"How did you even get here?" Asterin wondered. He made his voice shake just a little and widened his eyes like he was relieved or nervous. Aerin gripped his hand tighter as if to reassure him. Cute. But what he really wanted to know was if they'd found another way to open portals because opening portals large enough for entire armies and navies was exhausting. It was why he was at the palace now, recovering instead of on the battlefield with his mother and sister.

"We made a deal with the Watcher with a steep price but none of that matters now," Aerin reached up to cup Asterin's cheek. He actually almost leaned into it. "All that matters is getting you home. We have to get back before the Empress or Valax or that new Prince shows up."

He probably could have kept playing Aerin like an enchanted violin, but a laugh left his mouth. This whole situation was absolutely ridiculous. And it was so easy. Asterin had thought he was naive all that time ago. Wow.

"Asterin?" Aerin sounded worried. 

"I'm not going anywhere Aerin," Asterin snickered as he approached the three thrones at the end of the hall. 

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, you're smarter than this," Asterin sighed. 

He reached the throne farthest on the right and leaned against the side of it. Each of the thrones was jagged and dark as if they were stones forced from the ground and broken into the shapes of thrones. The middle was of course the most grand, with veins of silver and obsidian shooting through it like lightning, with the top shaped like the skull of a dragon. The one on the left had small violet stones embedded into it and intricately carved armrests. The one on the right though was fairly plain compared to the other two. For now at least.

"Come now, I know you're brave and all but this is quickly approaching reckless," Aerin said. 

"Let me help you out," Asterin smirked and picked up the small item sitting on the cushion and let it dangle from his finger. It was a circlet made from a strange material:  dark, dappled gray than neared black, weaved with threads of silver and inlaid with stones darker than the shadows around them. Aerin gasped and stumbled back into the table like he'd been punched in the gut and Asterin laughed. "There it is."

"Asterin, please, put that down," Aerin pleaded. "Surely you can feel them."

"The Onyx Shards you mean?" Asterin tilted his head, smile widening as Aerin's face grew more and more desperate. "Of course I can. The hilt was melted down by the best blacksmiths and fashioned into this. The stones have drops of my own blood. This crown here is the best recovery tool a Realmwalker could ever want."

"Your blood or not you know better than to touch something made from the Blade of Shadow!" Aerin exclaimed.

"You are not as smart as I gave you credit for," Asterin sighed. "Let's try this one more time, shall we?"

Asterin made sure to meet Aerin's eyes as he slid the crown onto his head. It fit him perfectly, of course. It was made for him after all.

"No," Aerin realized. "No, Asterin-"

"Finally," Asterin rolled his eyes. 

"You're the new Prince," Aerin shook his head as if he just protested hard enough he could erase it all. "But, no, you would never join the Ash Empire!"

"And why not?" Asterin scoffed. "Because Morella is such a great place? Because I have a family? I lost my parents twice, I'm the last surviving member of my house, and my brother grabbing that Shard like an idiot got me into all this mess in the first place."

"I had no place in Undermount while humans and orcs treated me like an outsider. I was kidnapped and tortured while my friends and two of the men I loved gave up on me and left me to die. And the other man I loved used and betrayed me for power and disappeared when I still forgave him."

"Asterin-" Aerin tried but with a look from Asterin his voice completely left him. His lips moved and his hands scrambled at his throat but no sound came out. If only Asterin had learned that spell a while ago. Served him right after casting that very spell on Asterin.

"I go on yet another quest to save an already damned Realm only to be manipulated, used, and betrayed again," Asterin scoffed. "All for a world that didn't care for me at all, not even after I saved it."

Asterin waved his hand and let Aerin have his voice back, only because of what he had to say next.

"In good conscience, I will give you and my old friends one chance to either join me or leave freely," Asterin declared. "I don't care either way. Fight for me, fight against me, go home and have a funeral for your faith. That's your choice. But I make this offer once."

"I'm not going to do any of that," Aerin argued and stormed right up to the foot of the dais. "I know what you're feeling, better than anyone ever could. This power and the idea of freedom are intoxicating. I wasn't strong enough to resist it but you are. You, you're the strongest person I've ever known. The strongest person I could ever meet. You are brave, and beautiful, and you are good. Better than I. You aren't some shadow royalty. You're Asterin, from the little town of Riverbend, who carried that light with them wherever they want. You just need to find that light again."

"You're a fool talking about light here, Aerin Valleros," Asterin said. With a wave of his hand, the doors to the throne room burst open and soldiers flooded in, dragging those old friends of his with them, all gagged and bound with iron and copper. "Welcome, my friends, my beloved, my kilvalir."

Tyril jerked forward against his bonds so hard he had to be forced back down to his knees by no less than four soldiers. Asterin cooed and waved with his fingers which just made what had to be muffled profanities spill from the mouths of Mal and Imtura as tears fell from Nia's eyes.

"Bind the disgraced Prince," Asterin ordered and Aerin was on his knees with the others in a matter of moments. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You all were always hardheaded. But thank you for telling me about your little deal with the Watcher, I’ll be sure to pay him a visit. I’m sure that bit of intel will be useful for us.”

Asterin rounded the throne, looking down on his former friends from the top of the dais and standing taller than he ever had before. 

“It’s in your best interest that you learn something and you learn it fast,” Asterin told them. “That little light? The warmth of a stupid boy from a quiet village? It’s dead. Murdered and extinguished by the very person it belonged to.”

Asterin grinned as they screamed protests and begged through the gags, trying so hard to wriggle free from their chains and fight against the guards holding them in place. It was adorable. There was still so much fight in them. Though Asterin knew from experience that fight would only last for so long. He laughed as he lowered himself onto his throne, crossing his legs and lounging as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Asterin of Riverbend is dead. Long live Asterin, Prince of the Ash Empire.”

[heytherejulia]

Matchmakers ~ Harry Holland

pairing: harry holland x reader, tom holland x zendaya

warning: minor injury, swearing

summary: Tom, Sam and Harrison play matchmakers

word count: 1,9k

Harry was sitting on the couch smiling at his phone. For the past few days he had been texting with this cute girl he ran into at the club. During this time, he got to know her quite well and began to discover that he might have some feelings for her.

But Harry didn't have as much confidence as Tom, as much charm as Sam, he wasn’t as good looking as Harrison (in his opinion) or had as much charisma as Paddy. He just wasn't them and he just wasn’t the best when it came to girls. He needed some advice, but he knew asking his brothers or Harrison would definitely not be that much of a help. The guys may have been good with the opposite sex, but they weren't shitty advisers on this field. 

On the other hand, Tom, Sam and Haz did notice a change in Harry's behavior and figured that something serious was bothering their friend, but they wouldn't be themselves if they hadn't teased him before trying to help. Harry was too focused on replying to your message to notice that Tom was standing behind him reading all the messages on the screen.

‘So who is Y/N with a heart emoji, bro?’ The younger Holland jumped as usual in fear. Habit. 

‘None of your business.’ He smirked sarcastically and locked the screen of his phone.

‘Hey Harry, come on, I told you about my current girlfriend.’ 

‘Yeah, you did. Two years ago, when I caught you with her on foreplay in our kitchen. I don't think I've heard of Zendaya as your official girlfriend before, and you've been shooting with her a lot longer.’ 

‘You should ask her out sometimes, you know? Maybe this is your chance, man.’ He knew Tom was right, but he would never admit it for his life.

‘Yeah yeah. I'm going to my room.’ Harry was halfway up the stairs when he heard Tom scream.

‘Just ask her on a date already!’ The words automatically made both Harrison, Sam and Daya run out of their rooms.

‘Who's asking whom on a date?’ 

Harry felt his cheeks turning red, and the urge to stick Tom's mouth shut or to kill him was growing with every second. Tom, on the other hand, couldn't care less about his lil bro’s death stares and pleading glances. Maybe he felt a little sorry for him, but at the same time, he knew it would be better for Harry if he shared it with his loved ones. As an older brother and a friend, he knew that this particular twin was not the smoothest with the girls and their help would certainly be needed.   

‘Nobody, not now at least, but Harry's been hanging out with some girl named Y/N and he should definitely take her on a date.’ 

‘Leave me alone, I'm going to my room.’

When Harry disappeared behind the door to his room, it was Tom who spoke first.

‘We have to help him somehow. He will never go out with her without us.’ 

‘Ooh, man. Do we play matchmakers? I'm in it.’ The enthusiasm that gushed out of Harrison and Tom was worrisome to Zendaya, and she genuinely felt sorry for Harry, but she doubted her intervention in this endeavor would help anyone.

‘Sam, you’re in, right?’ Daya really hoped Sam would be smarter than her boyfriend and his best mate, but, oh boy, she was so wrong. The younger Holland joined this plan as eagerly as the previous two.

‘Z, are you with us?’

‘No, definitely not. Guys, you should let Harry make his own decision and you definitely shouldn't be playing matchmakers. Especially when you suck at it.’ 

‘Oi! But you know him. He won't do anything until someone pushes him to do it.’ 

‘It's still his life, Tom. Anyway, I'm going to the store, do you guys want something?’ The boys shook their heads. ‘See you later then.’ 

‘Hey, Z’ The girl turned. Tom walked over to her and placed a kiss on her forehead. ‘Now you can go.’ 

After Zendaya left, the boys began to create a brilliant plan to get Harry to ask you on a date. They forced him to listen to their advice, on the condition that they would leave him alone afterwards. 

Harry had two options here: listen to these idiots and maybe take advantage of it, or ignore them and deal with their complaints for the next few days. The second option definitely suited him better (excluding brothers and a friend sticking their noses into his love life), but the first option was a win-win for everyone. After all, he did not have to take their advice, and listening to them would not hurt him.

‘Okay, Harry. We have three ideas, three great ideas for your date with Y/N. And before you get out of the way, everything is already set up with your cute girlfriend.’

‘How the hell did you do that?!’

‘We hacked your account, man, and you’re meeting with her this Friday. This is where my wonderful plan comes in.’ Tom began. ‘Well, you’ll take her to the cinema for the horror movie, and then …’ 

As it turned out later, Tom's plan sucked so bad. Not only was the movie boring, but not scary at all, not least in Harry’s and yours opinion, but Tom, Sam and Haz, who went to the same screening to follow their brother's progress, screamed like little girls on every jumpscare that appeared on the screen. At the end, you and Harry spent some time in the café talking about the shitty movie and your hobbies, but to the boys' displeasure, there was no open flirting or kissing between you, you just acted like friends. 

***

‘Okay, now that we know Spider-boy's plan sucks, we're going with mine. You’ll take her to paintball and then perhaps with a bit of luck you can kiss her. You know, someone will shoot her and you will take care of her.’ 

This date turned out to be an even greater failure than the previous one. You went on paintball (matchmakers along to spy on you), but as soon as you started the game, you were shot down by a player from another team in the face and ended up with a big bruise under your eye and visited an emergency room because of the paint in your eye. In fact, Harrison's plan probably worked slightly too well. 

You didn't blame Harry for the whole incident and even said that it was your craziest stay in the hospital and that you had a lot of fun in the waiting room, while waiting for some ophthalmologist to remove the green paint from your eye. Fortunately, the paint was non-toxic and you were able to return to work after a few days, but Harry was still furious with his friends who came up with silly ideas like hiring a guy to shoot his date friend.

‘Well, Batman fucked up too.’ 

‘Hey! Not at all! The plan was good, it wasn't my fault some idiot shot her in the face!’ 

‘You hired this idiot.’ 

But Tom and Harrison didn't hear Harry’s words because they were too busy with their own problems. They started arguing over whose plan was better, and went on to arguing about who would win a fight: Spider-man or Batman.

‘Batman.’

‘Spider-man.’

‘Batman!’ 

‘Spider-man!’ 

‘Batman!!’

‘Spider-man!! Do you know how I know it? Because I'm Spider-man.’ 

‘Shut up, you twats. Harry, just take her for a walk in the park, you both have dogs, so take them and go for a romantic walk. It can't go wrong.’ 

Contrary to Sam's assurances, it could. 

Your doggie was still a puppy and was afraid of practically every bigger noise, so when you walked into Richmond Park and saw how many people had taken their dogs out just like you two, Harry knew that a third date in a row would be a total failure. 

And that's exactly what happened, because the little french bulldog ran away from you as soon as a few larger dogs ran up and started barking at Tessa and Muffin, inviting them to play, and you both spent the whole afternoon looking for your dog. He eventually was found two days later when a woman came with him to the vet and called you after she saw your poster about a lost puppy. 

However before your dog got lost, Haz, Tom and Sam decided to take Monty for a walk to spy on Harry and you. They turned out to be even worse spies than dating advisers. The three of them wore hoodies and sunglasses and sat on the bench directly opposite the one that you were sitting on. Harry recognized them right away, but not wanting to start a fight, he just offered you a walk in another part of the park. 

But you did not live under a rock, and you recognized the boys, not only from the internet but also from Harry's stories. So when he grabbed your hand and started leading you to the west side of the park, you smiled awkwardly and waved at the young men sitting on the bench. 

By that point, Harry was already so furious with the three of them that he gave them silent treatment and only spoke to Zendaya, who lived with them. He knew it was childish behavior, and in fact some of the events were downright bad luck and coincidence, but he was furious nonetheless, perhaps more at himself than at the boys. 

Harry was sitting in the kitchen, editing photos from the last photoshoot he had taken and drinking his very milk tea when Z entered the room.

‘How's your dating going, Harry?’ The boy scowled at her and rolled his eyes. 

‘Terriously, but I'm quitting making another attempt, maybe we just shouldn't be together.’

‘Or maybe you should just stop listening to those idiots you call friends? Two-thirds of them have no girlfriends, and your idiot of a brother is mostly with me because I took all the first steps. Harry, try something simple that both of you will be comfortable with. For example, invite her to your place for a movie marathon and just have a good time. If it doesn't spark between you guys, she’s not the one, but please don't do anything Sam, Harrison or Tom suggest you do.’ 

As it turned out later, Zendaya’s advice was the best of all. Harry really invited you to a Netflix marathon, and you watched “Brooklyn 9-9” cuddled up for the whole night. Perhaps you even shared a few kisses during one or the other episode, and then you perhaps even stayed overnight. 

At a time when Harry was finally having his dream date with his perfect girl, Zendaya was lecturing the boys about their irrational behavior. 

‘I told you all it is his life and to not interfere. I told you that Harry had to take the first step himself and your advice would not help him. Didn’t I?’ 

‘Darling, we just wanted to help.’

‘You should have helped him by simply supporting him, not by arranging shitty dates for him. Therefore, all three of you will apologize to Harry and Y/N for your behavior.’ 

‘But, Daya.’ The girl interrupted Harrison's statement. ‘End of discussion, boys. You know I'm right.’ 

She was, but neither of them was going to admit it. Maybe that was just the trait of all Hollands. And the Osterfields.

[koqabear]

Traces You Left

[art is by Holly Warburton - Holly Warburton’s website]

Summary:

To you, Choi Beomgyu was your moon. Shining brightly, always there to hold you after a long day, the nights passing as you slept in the comfort of his arms. He was your favorite sight, one that you knew would be there until you were no more. But Beomgyu was only a shooting star, his time fleeting, leaving you to wonder if you’ll ever see him again.

Beomgyu x Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 14.3K

Warnings: hurt/comfort? Angst, MCD, implied non-verbal characters?* mentions of panic attacks, grieving, coping mechanisms, mentions of weight loss/eating disorders, mentions of depression, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts, brief mentions animal death/animal surgery. Let me know if I should add anything!

*there are moments where mc has days/moments where they are unable to communicate

A/n: It’s finally done!! I have been working on this for so long, I have pulled all-nighters for this,,, I cannot fathom how proud of this I am, I actually based some of this over my own feelings when I lost someone important #projecting

I really really hope that you guys enjoy this reading this as much I did writing it! Comments and reblogs are always welcome, but anyways, enjoy!! <3

᪥ Playlist ᪥

Love comes in many different forms, at many different times.

One of those forms manifested itself as Choi Beomgyu.

It had just been another day in class when it happened. You were asked by your teacher to stay after class, so you did. As you waited for the rest of the students to dwindle out, you couldn’t help but notice the boy that lingered behind near his desk. You paid no mind to it until you realized that he also wanted to speak to the teacher.

The class was now empty, and you motioned for the quiet boy to speak first, not in a hurry to get to class. He had given you a small smile, and walked up to the teacher.

You tried to ignore how cute he was.

So you scrolled through your phone while you waited for their conversation to be over, wondering why your teacher wanted to speak to you. Just as you were beginning to zone out, the teacher had called your name again.

“Yes?” You said, nearing his desk. You saw that the boy was still there.

“I- well, we have a favor to ask you.”

You were fully alert, trying to figure out if you had done anything wrong, or if they might ask something strange.

“I have been having trouble in this class lately, and I was wondering if you could help me out.” It was the boy that spoke to you this time, his round eyes sincere as he looked at you, waiting for your answer. But you had stayed silent, looking at your teacher.

“If you do this, then I’ll give you extra credit points, and maybe buy you some food, who knows?” He chuckled a bit, and the two watched as you thought about your answer.

“Okay, I’ll do it.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You hadn’t been exactly ecstatic about it, but the promise of free food and extra credit kept you going at the time.

It hadn’t been anything special, just simple things like meeting during lunch in the library. It would be extremely awkward, you couldn’t lie, but you had still agreed to it, so you weren’t about to back down.

But Beomgyu turned out to be more fun than he first led on.

Quiet, awkward sessions became hushed laughter and side glances from the school librarian. Then it became walks to school in the morning. The sessions were soon moved outside of school, where they began to become questionable, and an excuse to hang out together.

Beomgyu was also smarter than he led on. Well, and you were also one hell of a teacher.

His grade quickly got better, and the two of you celebrated by eating fast food in your teacher's  class. You couldn’t understand why your teacher kept giving you knowing glances at the time.

With no way to use “tutoring” as an excuse behind hanging out, you decided to officially become friends, according to Beomgyu.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Being friends with Beomgyu was just as great as you’d expect.

He would randomly show up to drag you out of your house, and was pleasantly surprised when he first did so. That day, you had learned something new about Beomgyu: he absolutely adored dogs.

Because when your golden retriever, Nana, had suddenly tackled him and started slobbering all over him, Beomgyu did not complain a single bit. That day he demanded to play with Nana all day. The dog park would quickly become one of your go to hang out spots.

Sometimes you wondered if he was using you to get closer to Nana and kidnap him.

But Beomgyu never failed to reassure you that he always had fun with you, even if all you two did was sit down and talk.

Being friends with Beomgyu was like a never ending adventure. It was as though he knew every single little crevice of your hometown, because he would always find something new to show you.

“Where are we going? Why did you drag me out of my house so late?” You complained, laying back against the passenger's seat as you stared out the window.

“Shush, I’ll show you when we get there.”

“Oh god, you’re not gonna murder me are you?” You gasped, clutching onto your chest as you looked at him with worry.

“Yes, because I’d absolutely love nothing more than to chuck your dead body into the sea,” he said, chuckling softly when you punched his arm.

“At least take me on a fancy dinner first!” You exclaimed, crossing your arms in disdain. You continued to stare out the window as you waited for another mocking response, but you heard nothing.

“Gyu?” You asked, studying him as he snapped out of his daze, briefly glancing at you with a hum.

“Did you say something?” He asked, and you furrowed your brows.

“No, nothing,” you mumbled, watching his expression closely, before finally deciding to ask. “Is something wrong?”

He shot you a confused look, before laughing it off. “No, what're you on about?” He said, beginning to take a turn into a path leading into a forest. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

Looking out to the dark path illuminated by the car's headlights and the stars, you raised a brow at him.

“Dude, you know I was joking about the whole murder thing, right?” You had mumbled, Beomgyu’s eyes shining with endearment.

“Oh, were you?”

To this day you remember the small part of you wondering if this really was the way it would all end.

And that part of you would become bigger as Beomgyu made you close your eyes, later blindfolding you as you refused to do it over and over again.

“Just let it go already, I was kidding!” He would exclaim, trying to dodge your blindly flailing arms.

“I have my ways to hurt you, so you better not be lying!”

You’re glad you didn’t pull out the pepper spray you always carried in your bag.

It would have gone all over the both of us anyway, Beomgyu always teased, grinning everytime you retold the story.

But you had instead waited in the car, blindfolded as you listened to the sounds of Beomgyu walk around outside, carrying things out of the car trunk.

It’s your fault for making it seem too much like a murder, You would retort, slapping him on the arm to get him to shut up.

And right as you were about to pull your blindfold off and dip, you heard Beomgyu open your door, putting his hands on your arms.

“I’m going to walk you outside, it’s a surprise, okay?” He whispered softly into your ear, eyes sparkling as he looked at the way you tried to seem unaffected.

So you decided to go along with this eccentric boy’s plan, stumbling around the floor and clutching onto Beomgyu like your life depended on it.

The ground was uneven under you, making you nervous as you tried your best to walk normally to your destination, only to fail because of a rock that would be in your path. The sounds of what seemed to be flowing water in the distance and cicadas the only sounds in your ears as Beomgyu slowly led you down an unknown path, now beginning to warn you of any obstacles from the way you seemed to trip every other step.

“Here, we’re almost there,” he mumbled, squeezing your hands softly. You slowed down, feeling the hard ground suddenly become soft, quickly recognizing that you were probably standing on a blanket now.

“Alright, sit.” The boy said, gently leading you down, the thick blanket easily bringing you comfort as Beomgyu left your side. You tried to ignore the strange feeling you felt as the boy’s dainty hands slipped from yours, slowly beginning to miss the warmth that they brought.

“Okay, I’m gonna take the blindfold off, okay? On three. One, two…” you felt his hands brush your head as he untied the knot done to the blindfold, the cool air beginning to brush against your skin as the fabric loosened. Your stomach tightened in anticipation as the cloth dropped, and you opened your eyes.

“Beomgyu, holy shit!”

As far as the eye could see, colors bloomed across the empty field, the path that Beomgyu brought you on leading to an empty hill, where he had set up a small picnic. A stream formed near your spot, flowing down and into a lake at the bottom, which also seemed to be tended to, water lilies decorating the water's surface. Your heart fluttered at the sight, the wind rustling the dozens of flowers before you.

A flower field.

Beomgyu brought you to a flower field.

“How did you find this place?” You turned to him, grinning and taking in the sight before you.

Beomgyu stood in awe, the cool air brushing against his warming cheeks as he took in how happy you looked. He wished with all his soul that he could engrave this moment in his mind, your bright face overtaking his heart and mind, resisting with all his might to not mess up and kiss you then and there.

You looked gorgeous that day, I really wished I could kiss you, He would reveal one day, smiling sweetly as he took in your distraught expression.

And as you sat next to him, taking in the scenery, you tried to ignore the itching want deep inside you asking to hold hands with the boy next to you. You had shifted nervously in your seat, the quiet sounds of rushing water soothing to your ears.

You totally should have kissed me you dork, you would retaliate, punching him softly as he laughed at your frustrated expression. He would then engulf you in his arms and spin you around, cooing softly into your ear on how obsessed you were with him, peppering soft kisses on the top of your head. You would try to pry him off, failing to do so as he continued to trap you in his bone crushing embrace.

“I brought snacks too,” Beomgyu revealed, pointing at the cute picnic basket that was placed between the two of you. You celebrated, opening it to reveal the copious amount of snacks and candies that were placed inside.

And as you brought them out and placed them on the blanket, you couldn’t help but laugh at the designs on the interior of the wooden basket, cute little illustrations of brown bears overtaking the white fabric that was sown inside to add a layer of security.

“Where’d you get this basket? Is it your grandma’s or something?” You teased, smiling at him as you pointed at the cute decorations inside. As you continued to take out the silverware, you were giddy to find that it was all bear themed as well, the simple bear accents on the plates and cups bringing a smile on your face.

“Actually, it’s mine,” he huffed proudly, scooting closer to you as he observed the basket fondly. “I saw it at a store and thought it was really cute. Thought you’d like it too,” he said, watching your expression carefully.

“And I do. It’s cute,” you hummed, eyes bright as you were unable to get over how cute the cups designed to look like honey jars were.

Beomgyu swore up and down that he would take you on picnics everyday for the rest of his life if it meant seeing you that happy again.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Falling in love with Beomgyu was easier than you imagined.

It was quick glances thrown at him when he wasn’t paying attention, butterflies swarming inside you when you took in how beautiful he was. It was internal battles with yourself as you tried to get used to the way you would now feel when he got affectionate with you, a simple punch to your arm from him enough to bring you back to reality. It was wishing for something more, for a deeper meaning in the way his gaze would linger on you when you did something for him, wishing hopelessly that he would reciprocate even a fraction of what you were feeling.

“Actually, you were just dense.” Beomgyu would tell you one day, laughing rudely at you as you tried desperately to justify your confusion from his actions.

No, you were just dense.

Because as you helped out your classmate on a math problem they were struggling with, you failed to see Beomgyu’s watchful eyes and obvious annoyance.

“So you would actually use this formula, so it would go-“

Beomgyu could tell that the boy next to you couldn’t care less about the math problem you were helping him with. Because as the boy stared intently at you, leaning close with a soft smile on his face, Beomgyu could only feel anger bubbling up inside of him.

You were dense. You were oh so dense.

Beomgyu was a patient man. And he prided himself on that. But he swore to any and every deity that existed in this universe that he was ready to spell out his feelings for you then and there.

Actually, that didn’t seem like a bad idea.

But Beomgyu was a patient man. He would make sure that when he confessed to you it would be perfect, and not just the result of a blown fuse.

I’m so glad you didn’t confess to me in the middle of math class, you would admit in the future, shaking your head at the very thought. I would have cried.

You probably wouldn’t have gotten it anyway, Beomgyu would tease, earning him a solid punch to his arm, his pained cries ringing out in your ears.

But as the boy next to you tried to flirt, frustration building up in him as you brushed him off with ease, Beomgyu couldn’t help but feel as though his patience was fortifying itself, the fear of rejection beginning to creep up on him. And as the class ended and Beomgyu walked you to your next class, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had ever felt this way for anybody else.

Sure, he had his fair share of crushes here and there, but was anything ever serious? Did he ever dream about waking up next to them, feeling warm and complete under the morning sun, in the very way that he dreamt about you? Did he ever feel like bursting into tears at the very sight of his old crushes after a long day, the feeling of curling up in their embrace overtaking his mind?

No. The answer was and had always been no.

And as Beomgyu bid you goodbye, heart flipping at the way you sweetly smiled at him before disappearing into class, he couldn’t help but rush to the bathrooms, hiding in a stall as a strange feeling took over him.

He closed his eyes tightly, your image immediately overtaking his mind. He felt the same feeling begin to take over, overwhelming him as he struggled to breathe properly. He didn’t know how or why this was happening, and as tears began to prick at his eyes from the overwhelming feelings surrounding him, a light buzz flowing throughout his body as he shook, he could only think a single coherent thought.

He had to tell you how he felt. And soon. Because as Beomgyu felt himself begin to calm down, he knew that the overwhelming urge to kiss you and hold you close would overtake him if he didn’t do anything about it soon.

Beomgyu was late to class that day. He was scolded by the teacher.

Months had passed since the first time Beomgyu had taken you to his safe place for a picnic. He hadn’t taken you back since then, a strong feeling of wanting to only save it for special occasions overtaking him.

And as you sat in the passenger’s seat next to him, glowing under the moonlight, he couldn’t be happier that he did.

“Oh? We’re back here?” You mumbled, shakily taking the boy's hand as he led you to the path that you once walked blindly on. He lead you up slowly, allowing you to properly admire the scenery around you.

Arriving at the special spot, you smiled softly, seeing the same setup as last time waiting for you. But as you sat down happily on the soft blanket, you couldn’t help but notice how tense Beomgyu was next to you.

You had repeatedly tried to loosen him up, failing miserably as he either shook off your jokes, or replied with something simple to keep you satisfied.

“Dude, you okay? You seem stressed,” you had finally called him out, brows furrowing as he flinched at your comment, laughing shakily at your accusations.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

He wasn’t fine.

From the moment Beomgyu held your hand, leading you up to his safe space, he knew that this was it. This was his final chance to tell you how he felt, and there was no way he was going to back out of it.

I felt overwhelmed, Beomgyu would tell you honestly, playing with your fingers nervously as he looked away. Everytime I looked at you, it was like… It almost hurt, you know? I feel like if I hadn’t told you how I felt, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life.

Beomgyu was never good with words. He stumbled on them often, his tongue tied even on the simplest of days. He was teased for his mistakes at times, known for his simple wordings and short sentences. He hated that he never knew what to say, and this day was no exception.

Come on, think, He thought, stealing glances at you, his throat going dry. Think of something cool, or just spit it out!

His heart sped up and his hands shook as he looked into your eyes, swallowing nervously as he took in your concerned expression.

“Gyu, are you okay?”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Beomgyu was never good with words, and this moment was no exception. Because as much as he wanted to tell you how much he loved you, that he wished to wake up by your side every morning for the rest of his life, he couldn’t. He would continue to beat himself up over it in the future as well, whining to you about how lame his confession was.

But to you, lame was far from what you thought of him. Because as you sat in silence, his eyes seemed to tell you all the words that his lips could not.

In love with you? Beomgyu? Is he being serious?

The butterflies that you ignored for the past few months had now resurfaced, fluttering wildly around your heart, the feelings that you had tried to ignore for the boy in front of you returning and running rapidly in your mind.

Beomgyu admired you, from the way you carried yourself, to the way you spoke. He thought you were elegant and composed, everything that he ever dreamed to be. He found comfort in your presence, feeling more complete in your arms than he ever did anywhere else. So as you sat in front of him, silent and eyes glossy, he couldn’t help but feel as though he made a mistake.

You had always prided yourself in the way you spoke as well, compliments about your eloquent way of speaking making you feel confident in yourself. But in this moment, overwhelmed in this feeling that Beomgyu had brought out of you, you were completely speechless. Words that formed in your mind dissipated before you could utter them, and you were left with the last four words that you were holding back.

“Can I kiss you?”

Seemingly struck out of his trance by your request, he nodded rapidly, quickly scooting in front of you before pulling you into his warm embrace, his lips hastily crashing against yours.

Your hands automatically reached for him, pulling him into you until it was physically impossible. Months of held back emotions and unsaid words melted into the kiss, your hands tugging at his hair as you were surrounded by his scent and warmth.

His lips melted you the moment they met yours, any thoughts that weren’t about him dissipating from your mind.

Beomgyu.

As your lungs burned and his scent of eucalyptus intoxicated your senses, you couldn’t help but cling to the boy as you parted, burying your head in his neck as you panted for air, his hands gently gliding up and down your back.

You don’t think you’ll ever love someone else like the way you love Beomgyu.

“Does this mean you like me too?” He whispered into the cool air, the gentle breeze making you cling to his warmth even more.

“Oh course you idiot, what do you think?”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Loving Beomgyu was like coming up for air after suffocating under the ocean all your life. It was constantly feeling as though you could stay with him for eternity and never get tired of him. Holding hands and surprise gifts, talking until dawn and sleeping during class while he hid you from view. It was attempting to bake him a cake for his birthday, only for the decorations to turn out looking as though a three year old made it.

“This is the cutest thing I have ever laid my eyes on,” Beomgyu would laugh the moment he saw it, pulling you into a hug and kissing you until you told him to quit before you smashed the cake in his face.

With him, you felt as though your life was complete. You couldn’t imagine a life without him.

And as years passed, a ring now adorning your finger, you knew he felt the same.

(Well, that and he literally told you that he couldn’t imagine a life without you. The very  thought of his words made you dizzy with happiness.)

“Gyu, please leave me alone,” you sighed, head hanging as you picked the fifth call from your husband within the past hour.

“What? Can’t a guy just miss you in peace?” He whined, your heart softening at his voice. In the beginning of your relationship, you always worried that you might come off as too clingy, and scare Beomgyu away. But the longer you two stayed together, the more you realized that no one could be clingier than Beomgyu. (Not that you minded, of course.)

“You just got off a call with me twenty minutes ago,” you deadpanned, sinking into the couch as he laughed softly, the sound automatically making you melt.

“How’s Nana doing?” You asked, the slight worry bringing you back to reality. Nana, your dog that you’ve had since you were a teenager, had followed you through all the stages of your life, and now comfortably resided in your home with Beomgyu. However, as he grew old, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes begin to cloud, his sight seemingly deteriorating, the sight of him bumping into objects and searching around the room at the sound of your voice becoming too much for you.

So when the doctor had revealed that he had developed cataracts, which was impairing his vision severely, you jumped at the chance for surgery. Yes, it cost a pretty penny, but the thought of letting Nana go through that made the surgery much more worth it. So with Nana now fully recovered, Beomgyu was now coming back home with your precious dog.

“He’s fine, he seems to be more relaxed now. You should have seen the way he started crying when he heard my voice darling, it almost made me cry.”

You hummed at his words, smiling from the good news. You couldn’t wait for him to come home.

“It’s raining, I really wish you were here right now,” you sigh, the thought of curling up next to Beomgyu while you threaded your fingers through Nana’s fur making your heart ache. The time spent without your pet made you feel uneasy, so with Nana coming back home to you and Beomgyu, you couldn’t help but feel relief wash over you like a heavy blanket.

“I know darling, I’ll be there soon. You sound tired, you should rest.” He said, a frown replacing your face at the thought.

“No, wanna see Nana come back home,” you sighed, beginning to fight the sleep that made its way into your system.

“Really? I thought you wanted to see me?” He teased, heart fluttering at the sound of your tired voice.

“I do, but I’ve missed Nana too,” you mumbled, hugging a bear plush that you gave to Beomgyu.

You remember the day that you drove past a fair that opened up near your home, tugging Beomgyu’s sleeves and begging him to stop by for a bit, the bright colors and cool rides catching your attention.

That day, you played one of the carnival games while waiting for Beomgyu to come back from the bathroom, a cute bear plush catching your eye. And as Beomgyu returned, greeted by the sight of you celebrating, he couldn’t help but celebrate cluelessly with you as he watched the worker reach for one of the many stuffed animals behind him.

“What’d you get?” He asked, his hands automatically intertwining with yours, watching the worker hand you a familiar plush.

“It’s a Rilakuma plush!” You exclaimed, holding it out to him, “It’s for you.”

The boy was ready to melt as he took it, it’s cute face being squished to his chest as he laughed happily. Looking up at you, he brought you into his arms, spinning you until you felt like your legs were made of jello, barely able to stand as you yelled at him to stop.

“We’ll be there in a bit, okay darling?” He reassured, humming softly to the music that played in the car. “If you’re tired, just rest for a bit, okay?” You grumbled a short agreement, knowing that if you didn’t he wouldn't stop until you gave in.

“I’ll see you in a bit, I love you,” he said, smiling as he told you those special words that he would never get tired of saying.

“I love you too, so, so much,” you replied, your sleepy state paired with the rainy night making you emotional.  You heard his soft chuckles on the other end of the line, your eyelids beginning to get heavier as the seconds passed by.

With one last whispered reassurance of his love for you, Beomgyu hung up.

As the sound of his voice disappeared on your end, you were suddenly awoken out of your tired state, your bed suddenly more tempting than the couch you currently laid on. So as you turned off your tv, slowly heading up the stairs with the cute Riliakuma plush in your hands, you couldn’t help but collapse onto Beomgyu’s side of the bed, his lingering scent quickly lulling you into a dreamless sleep.

You couldn’t wait for Nana and Beomgyu to come home.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You were startled out of your sleep at the sudden boom of thunder, your home pitch black and quiet. As you sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you heard the distant sound of knocking downstairs.

Heading down, you couldn’t help but wonder why Beomgyu was knocking. Maybe he lost the house keys again? You pondered, sighing at the possibility. Or he might be carrying Nana. He was always scared of thunder.

So as you unlocked the door, looking up at your husband with a smile, you couldn’t help but freeze.

That wasn’t Beomgyu.

Instead of your happy, cute husband waiting for you with your favorite pet in his arms, you were met with two officers, frowns on their faces as they stood under the rain, a single umbrella shared between the two of them.

“Is this the Choi residence?” One of them asked, making you nod slowly at the question.

“Can I help you?” You asked, palms beginning to sweat, your heart beating faster as moments slipped by.

“Yes, well, may we come in?” The other asked, a tall woman with sad eyes that peered down at your tired and confused form.

You stuttered out a short yes, leading them into your living room as they wiped their shoes on your welcome mat outside. It was tacky and had a picture of a badly drawn duck on it with the word “Welcome” on it in big letters (you later found out that Beomgyu ordered it online and commissioned it to look that way.) You always pretended to hate it, and never failed to hide the smile that it brought to your face when you saw it after a long day of work.

As your heart beat loudly in your chest, barely able to walk as you stared at the pictures of the three of you that were all over your walls, you finally asked the question that was stuck in your throat.

“What brings you here?” You asked, turning to face them slowly, their expressions bringing dread that pooled in your stomach. You couldn’t care less about the way they seemed to skirt around the topic, looking for something that might be relevant to you.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but Choi Beomgyu was found dead at the scene of a car accident.”

Dead. Dead.

The single word rang out in your ears as you stared at them, unable to utter a single word.

There’s no way. There’s no way that Beomgyu was dead, he was just on the phone with you, talking and laughing, teasing you as he reassured you that he would come home safely. He was just-

Your eyes caught on the digital clock that was in your living room, the bright numbers reading one in the morning making your stomach sink.

Four hours had passed.

“There’s no way that could happen officers, how- how could that happen?” You asked, your voice shaky as you held your hand out to place it on a wall, trying to steady yourself the best you could.

“He swerved off the road due to the rain,” the woman replied swiftly, approaching you slowly. “Are you alright?”

You wanted them to leave. There’s no way you would believe this nonsense, you told yourself.

Beomgyu was on his way home with- with Nana… you thought, your mouth dry and your eyes glazing over, He’s coming home and I’m going to wait for him.

So as you finally told the officers to leave, denying any offers asking for help, you ran back upstairs and into your bedroom, collapsing back onto the bed and into the safety of Beomgyu’s scent.

He’s just running a bit late, you told yourself, burrowing yourself in his pillow, his scent becoming harder to pick up, He’ll be here soon, and he’ll laugh at me for falling for this fucked up joke.

But as much as you tried to go back to sleep, you just couldn’t. Not with the presence of your husband missing from you.

So you sat up, searching through the blankets for your phone, finally finding it and scrolling through it mindlessly as you called him to check up on him.

Pick up, you thought, legs bouncing with nervousness and your plush being tightly squished in your arms.

Pick up. You muttered, pacing around the room, your mind racing from the many thoughts that invaded you.

Pick up.

Pick up, please.

Please…

He didn’t answer.

You frowned, pulling the phone away from your ear as you attempted to call him again.

Back to voicemail.

Beomgyu, this isn’t funny anymore, please pick up. You texted him with teary eyes, refusing to accept any other possibilities as to why he wouldn’t answer. So you called him again. Nothing.

Again.

Nothing.

A yell of frustration coursed through you as you threw your phone to the side, falling back to your bed as a sob racked through your body. Unwilling to give up, you picked up the phone, and called again.

You called and called until you memorized his voicemail message, until your arm was numb from holding it up to your face. You called until your eyes were dry, no longer able to shed tears. Your lungs hurt as you struggled to breathe, pathetic hiccups hitting you as you were forced to face the reality of it all.

Beomgyu wasn’t going to answer.

The thought of Nana quickly crossed your mind, but you shoved it down before you could come to any conclusions.

Was Beomgyu really gone?

He was just here this morning, you thought miserably, crawling back into bed as you buried yourself under the duvet. You laid down on your side this time, not wanting to take Beomgyu’s in case he came back. He always pouted when you did, waking you up with a start and whining that you were taking his favorite spot.

He was just here, sitting at the table and talking about taking Nana to the dog park tomorrow.

The exhaustion from everything finally hit you full force, forcing your eyes to close, no matter how much you wanted to stay awake for when Beomgyu came home.

As you reached your hand out to touch his pillow, you couldn’t help but notice how awful it felt to have this spot remain empty.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

What would you have done differently if you knew what was going to happen that day?

It was a question that ran through your mind endlessly, one that you wish would leave you alone, haunting you during the nights when your bed was too unbearable to look at.

Would you have told Beomgyu to pick up Nana the next morning, because you noticed that there would be a severe thunderstorm later? Told him to drive safely, adding in an extra “I love you” to your conversation?

At times you wish you were with him when it happened, just so he didn’t have to leave you all alone.

Because the day after the news was delivered to you, you realized that Nana wouldn’t be coming back either.

On quiet days where the thought of getting up made you even more exhausted, you liked to think that Beomgyu had gone out for his morning walks with Nana, and that he would come back with a bright smile on his face, ready to cuddle with you and stay in bed for a little longer.

And though time had passed, it would never get rid of the hole that was ripped out of you suddenly. Because no matter how many times your friends came to stay by your side, to make sure that you were alright, it just wasn’t enough.

On days where it got bad, you slept on the couch in your living room.

You were afraid of entering your bedroom since the incident, the thought of ruining anything that might have indicated the presence of another haunting your mind.

But the first few days after you heard the news, you couldn’t leave the bed even if you wanted to. You clung to the pillow next to yours, your heart aching as the scent of Beomgyu’s cologne was finally gone. He always joked about the way you were obsessed with his scent, teasingly saying that he could feel you sniffing him every time you hugged. And when you laid in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but wonder if Beomgyu still had any cologne left.

He always smelled of Eucalyptus and mint, saying that he loved the smell of those things because they helped him relax. You couldn’t agree more when he first told you that, thinking that his hugs paired with his signature were god sent.

You never told him that though, because you were too embarrassed to do so.

You regret it.

You regret not telling him how much he meant to you, and sometimes you wondered if you loved him enough. Yes, you were affectionate with him, and he was with you, but you regret not being able to tell him how much you appreciate him, from the biggest things about him to the smallest mannerisms he was never aware of. From the way his eyes creased when he smiled, to the way he thought about you everywhere he went. The way he would habitually tuck his hair behind his ears, the said parts naturally curling because of how often he did it. Small things like those were what made you fall in love with that man every day, and you just wish that you had expressed that to him at least once.

You wish you could have spent more time with him that day.

It had been a simple morning, one that you thought would be like the others. You woke up in his arms, the feeling of him softly patting on your back waking you, your first instinct to get closer to him making his heart flutter. He had mumbled something about having to get ready for work soon, and you had whined in response that you didn’t want him to go.

You remember how close you were to winning him over, but you decided to give up at the last minute because you didn’t want to get him in trouble. You wonder what would have happened if you had convinced him to stay in bed with you for the rest of the day. Would he have gone to pick up Nana earlier, before the storm? Would you be in his arms right now, planning on where to take your precious golden retriever to celebrate his bettering eyesight? It’s questions like these that make you sick to your stomach with anger.

You’re never sure who you’re angry at. Were you angry at yourself for not keeping Beomgyu at your side that day? Were you angry at the universe for taking such important people away from you? Were you angry at Beomgyu for not coming home safely like he promised?

You wished that the answer to the last question was a definite no, but you couldn’t help yourself sometimes. Sometimes you wanted to curse to your lover, angry that he would just leave you so suddenly. You know it wasn’t his fault, you truly do. But when there’s no one else to blame but those affected, you begin to make do.

On days where there was nothing inside you but rage, you would curse at Beomgyu for leaving you alone, with no chance to move on. There was no way you would ever move on from him. The very thought of that felt like a slap to the face. Beomgyu was supposed to grow old with you, to stay with you as you achieved your dreams and lived a happy life, to love you until your heart no longer beat, and you were back in the earth.

But instead you were forced to watch as his casket was lowered to the ground, unable to say or do anything as you watched it numbly. You wished that you could do something, anything at all. Scream, cry, reach out to him, anything, but all you could do was standby and watch as the love of your life was buried right in front of your eyes.

Your mutual friends that stuck with you throughout high school, Hueningkai and Taehyun, held your hands as they stood by you, tears quietly streaming down their faces.

And before you could be bombarded with half assed condolences from people who didn’t know what to do to make you feel better, you turned on your heel, walking to your car with your friends in tow.

As Taehyun offered to drive you home, a solemn Hueningkai silently wrapping his arms around you through the way home, you couldn’t help but accept his embrace, the sight of Beomgyu’s casket being lowered to the ground haunting you every time you close your eyes. You could barely make it through the funeral, the urge to throw up distracting you from being able to properly say goodbye to your love. And as you pass your home, now recognizing the path you were taking as the one to Hueningkai and Taehyun’s house, you couldn’t help but feel the regret wash over your being.

“I’m a terrible person,” you whispered softly, choking on your own words. The two men stiffened at your words, not having heard your properly for the past month. Since the day that you were left alone, you had gone quiet, barely using your voice unless absolutely necessary. There were days where you could sit outside with Taehyun, Hueningkai busying himself in your kitchen as he made tea, talking quietly with him about the most trivial things, the words taking difficulty to say, but still enough for the two.

Then there were times where you could only gesture silently, your voice box trapped deeply inside of you, your mind wondering if you were ever able to speak at all. On days like those, you sat smushed between the two men, silently petting the Rilakuma plush that you now took with you everywhere, it’s faded color and worn out face enrapturing you as Taehyun read out loud for you.

But as they heard your voice, raspy and weak, they could tell you were forcing yourself to say those words out loud.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to say anything. You’re not a horrible person.” Hueningkai responded without a second thought, every last word that he said being true. But you shook your head in response, feeling more words on the tip of your tongue begging to be said.

“I didn’t get to say goodbye,” you said softly, tears forming on your face, the feeling familiar and comforting. As your lungs burned with every breath and your throat felt scratchy with every sound you made, you let the words that had been ringing around your head out.

“He’s all alone now, back at the graveyard… and I didn’t even say goodbye to him. I’m such a coward.”

Hueningkai began to feel your form shake under his arms, your shallow breaths beginning to alarm him. Instinctively, you buried yourself into his large clothes, until your eyes were covered with darkness and you felt as though you were suffocating. Images of your smiling Beomgyu flashed through your mind, your heart stuttering as memories of him came to you.

“What’s this?” You had asked, peering at the box in his hands curiously. The boy smiled at your expression, grabbing your hands to put the present in them, before backing away and staring at you expectantly.

Carefully prying open the box, you gasped as the sight of a golden necklace gleamed back at you.

“A heart locket, are you kidding?” You said, taking it out of its velvet cushion, holding it as though it would shatter any moment. He nodded happily, taking it from your hand and popping the heart accessory open. A smile automatically formed on your face as you saw what was inside, punching your husband on the arm playfully.

“So you’ll have me and Nana with you, wherever you go.”

The metal chain now seemed to burn your skin, your hands reaching up to claw the material off. You didn’t even want to think of your cute little dog that also resided in your heart, who simply wanted to come home after healing from a surgery. Your hands shook as you thought about what Beomgyu had told you that night.

“You should have seen the way he started crying when he heard my voice darling, it almost made me cry.”

Nana must have been tired, relieved to come back home after having to heal in a cold, stale environment. Beomgyu must have been excited, ready to come home to you and celebrate having Nana with you, happy and healthy for more years to come. But now he was gone too, a special spot next to Beomgyu reserved for him today.

You felt your friend gently take your hands, taking the locket that you had been clutching in your hands tightly.

“Careful, you’ll break it,” he whispered softly, rocking you back and forth as he rubbed your back, continuing his efforts in grounding you. You began to pat his arms absentmindedly, beginning to remember where it was that you were.  And as you pulled into your friend’s driveway, you felt safe, your breaths slowing and going back to normal.

It was still bright outside, despite the sad day you had just experienced. As much as you wanted to go back to bed and sleep, your friends wouldn’t allow you to anymore.

“Hey, are you hungry?” Taehyun asked, frowning softly when you shook your head in response.

“You haven’t eaten at all today, it’s important to eat something,” he tried to continue, but was interrupted as Hueningkai placed his hand on the older’s shoulder.

“Let them be, you shouldn’t force them to eat. It’s stressful,” he reminded Taehyun, who simply nodded solemnly, disappearing into the kitchen once more.

“Do you want to stay up for a bit more today?” He asked softly, sitting on the couch with you. You nodded softly, feeling the words freeze inside you once more.

It was days like this where you were thankful for Hueningkai and his strange ability to understand you so well. Because as you stared out the window that led to their backyard, the sight of a hammock slightly peeking through, he immediately seemed to understand what you meant.

“Do you want Taehyun to read again tonight?” He asked quietly, smiling when you nodded immediately. Getting up from the couch, Hueningkai went to the kitchen to ask Taehyun if he could read to the two of you.

As much as you loved your friends for everything they did, you felt awful for taking up so much of their time. Because as you tried to pretend you didn’t notice their stolen kisses when they thought you weren’t looking, you knew that you were the one imposing on them. Sometimes you would beg for them to just leave you at your own home, fearing that you were becoming too codependent on them.

(You would then learn in the future that they adored having you there with them, your presence making their home warmer despite your varying moods. They just missed having you around constantly, like the old days.)

Hueningkai, a natural caretaker, adored you even in your broken state. He never seemed to express any annoyance at your silence, encouraging you to stay quiet when you tried to force yourself to say something. He enjoyed having you at home with him, an extra person to show his unwavering love for. He wished that he could be there for you every step of the way on your journey to healing, but he knew that was impossible. Because as he watched your curled up form in the kitchen, silent and unmoving, he knew there would be a day where you rejected their offer to stay with them.

And as you lay on the hammock, smashed once more between the two giants, Taehyun’s soothing voice ringing in your ears as he pet your hair, he wished that this moment could last a bit longer. But as the day went on, and the moon began to shine through the night, you gently tapped Taehyun’s arm, getting his attention as he stopped his story.

“What’s up?” He asked softly, closing the book, putting his finger as a placeholder. The two watched you carefully, waiting patiently as you stared at the ground, contemplating something. They knew you wanted to say something, but just couldn’t find the strength to spit it out.

Breathing in slowly, you eased off the tightness in your throat, saying the words that had been lingering on your tongue this entire time.

“I think I should go home now.”

The two looked at each other, exchanging conflicted looks. Noticing their unease, you forced yourself to continue a bit more.

“I wanted to thank you guys for all you’ve done for me. But I think I’m ready to spend time at home again.”

As much as you tried to mean every word that you said, you couldn’t deny that you felt a certain unease in your stomach, the thought of going back to your empty home terrifying. But, as much as you hated to admit, you were beginning to become tired of being treated like a fragile piece of China in this house, the feeling of being constantly watched over beginning to suffocate you.

“Are you sure? You can always stay here if you’d like, we really don’t mind,” Taehyun spoke, his smile wavering as you denied his offer again. “Do you want to go now?” He asked again, his smile completely coming off as you nodded yes.

So, with hesitation seeping through their movements, they drove you home, walking you to your steps.

“Call us if you need anything,” Taehyun said, bringing you in for one last hug, Hueningkai joining in after a moment.

“And we mean anything. Don’t hesitate to call us,” Hueningkai added, rocking you back and forth, not wanting to let go anytime soon. It wasn’t until you patted their arms, whining that you couldn’t breathe, that they finally let you go. It would take another five minutes of them doting on you on your porch before they finally got in their cars, yelling goodbyes and throwing kisses at you. You rolled your eyes, telling them one last goodbye before you disappeared into your home, wanting to go inside before you could change their mind.

“They’ll be okay, right?” Huenignkai quietly asked after a moment, his gaze lingering on your home, which was still dark inside. He felt Taehyun take his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he turned on the ignition.

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. They’re a strong person.”

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

As you were greeted by a silent and dark house, you were beginning to reconsider your decision of having some time alone. The sun had set and the familiar feeling of exhaustion rose over you, and you trudged to the bathroom to freshen up before you went to bed.

You tried to ignore the way your heart twisted at the sight of chew toys left all over the place, your house still messy, not a single thing changed, the illusion of two other people inhabiting your home still holding up. And when your eyes weren’t glued to the floor, they were staring straight ahead, not ready to see the pictures that you and Beomgyu had hung up, spending hours discussing the best places to put them.

You never realized just how much Beomgyu had left behind. Because as much as you wanted to mindlessly freshen up and go to bed, you were forced to face the many little touches that your husband had decided to leave. Even as you brushed your teeth, the sight of the shower curtains that he picked out remained behind you, your hand brushing against his toothbrush when you were done with your own.

Walking down the hallway, you were faced with two options: sleep in your bedroom, or sleep in the guest room. And without a second thought, you headed to the guest room, its small bed and plain space oddly inviting.

Here, you were free from the suffocating reminder that this had once been a fuller house, with a happy couple and their dog. And as you finally felt sleep seep into your body, you were allowed to imagine that this wasn’t your sad, empty home, and you were back at your friends house, ready to wake up the next morning and help make breakfast.

But when you woke up in the morning, you were forced to face the truth, and made breakfast for yourself. It felt less difficult to walk down the halls and see memories of what once was, and because of that, you were in a better mood than yesterday.  And as you finally turned the stove off, a small stack of pancakes set off to the side, (you made them all the time with Taehyun. There were always extra in the end, saved for times where you were hungry but had no energy to get up. So, pancakes had steadily become a comfort food for you.) You tried to ignore the strange feeling that had loomed over you from the moment you walked into the kitchen. And just as you turned off your stove, taking out the last pancake out of the pan, you froze.

You heard footsteps.

“Mmh, what’s for breakfast darling?”

Turning around, you dropped your spatula, your jaw falling open from shock.

It’s him.

“Darling?” He continued, confused at your expression. “Is something wrong?”

Was all of this a bad dream? The thought was barely processed in your mind, because next thing you knew, you were running into his arms.

“Hey, what’s wro-“ Just as your hands were about to touch him, about to graze his face that seemed to soften with concern, he disappeared.

And you were left stumbling alone in the air, searching around foolishly for any signs of your love.

He was just here. Am I imagining things? Your stomach twisted at the thought, beginning to realize that you weren’t as ready to be all on your own as you thought. So, as much as you hated to walk away from a perfectly good and warm breakfast, you walked back up to the guest room to calm down, your hands shaky as you sat down.

I couldn’t have been imagining things. You thought solemnly, running your hands through your face as anger seemed to slowly itch onto your skin, the feeling beginning to take you over.

You were tired. Tired of feeling empty, tired of not being able to do anything anymore, tired of being alone. It was a feeling that haunted you as you did the most trivial things, and you wished you could just rip off your head so you wouldn’t have to feel like a complete husk anymore.  You were tired of crying, of feeling as though you were drowning underwater, unable to speak or get up from bed.

You thought you were getting better, but seeing this tiny glimpse of him again, it sent you right back to where you began.

What’s worse is the fact that his appearance was seemingly a one time thing, no signs of him appearing since his short conversation with you in the kitchen.

You hated to admit it, but seeing him again almost felt like a relief. With all the time you spent trying to avoid thinking about him, you hadn’t realized just how much you were beginning to forget. You didn’t want to look at your pictures together, to step into your shared bedroom, or even think of the sound of his voice. But seeing him there in front of you, even for just that short time, reminded you of just how much he meant to you.

You didn’t want to forget him.

Because as soon as you turned around in that moment, you were able to see him in all his glory once more, from the curled tips of hair poking out from behind his ears, to the way his eyes sparkled under the morning light. Your heart stutters at the memory, and you will yourself not to cry again. At this point, you were beginning to consider calling your friends, just so you could be distracted from all your racing thoughts.

“Darling? What are you doing in the guest room?”

Your head turned at the speed of light, immediately standing up as you heard the familiar sound of his soft voice coming from the doorway. You stumbled, wanting to run up to him but choosing not to, afraid that he might disappear once more.

“Did you sleep here?” He asked, a crease forming between his brows as he stared at the messy bed, your shoes and jacket left scattered on the floor. He observed you closely, his frown deepening as he took a look at your all black outfit, your eyes red and a bit swollen. (You had yet to change out of the outfit you wore from the funeral, choosing to simply go to sleep as soon as possible.)

You stood there silently, eyes wide as you stared at him. Your heart beat rapidly against your chest, and for a second you wondered if he could hear it too. Hands shaking, you took a careful step towards him, afraid that if you made a wrong move, he might leave you again.

“You’re not real,” you whispered out, the words slowly easing out of you, “Are you?” You were afraid to ask, afraid to hear his answer, but you couldn’t help it, feeling as if you would go insane if you had to go another moment not knowing what was happening to you.

“What are you talking about? Of course I am!” He said, smiling at your strange question. But any humor behind his eyes quickly disappeared as he took in your distressed state, looking as though you were ready to collapse any second.

“You’re lying,” you said, backing away as you closed your eyes, distress coming off you in waves. “I’m imagining this, aren’t I? I'm going insane.” Hearing his footsteps come closer to you, you looked up, seeing him crouch down next to you.

“Hey, come here,” he said softly, outstretching his arms, wanting to envelope you in his warm embrace. But you flinched, backing away immediately. You couldn’t let him touch you, you thought, trying to ignore the way his face fell, hurt showing in his eyes. He could disappear.

You’re not sure how any of this worked, but all you had learned is that if you touched him, he would be gone. And, not wanting to repeat what happened in the kitchen, you decided to play it safe.

He’s not real. I’m imagining things. You thought, closing your eyes as you turned away from him, afraid to give in to your imagination. I should call Taehyun. But as you began to calm down, you couldn’t help but look up, confused to see him crouched down next to you, waiting for you patiently.

“Are you alright?” His voice wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you are reminded once more how much you missed him, of how much you needed him in your life. You almost wanted to give in, to pretend as if he was really here with you, and as though you could just brush off everything that has happened and go back into bed, back into his arms.

“Why are you still here?” You mumbled, scooting back, slowly lifting your head to get a good look at him.

You felt a pang in your heart as you observed him, still dressed in his favorite sweatshirt that you had gifted him for Christmas. His hair was ruffled, as though he had been running his hands through it, yet still tied up in the hairstyle you had given him the last morning you saw him. Stray hairs framed his face, his bangs going into his eyes as he looked at you intently, thinking carefully of what to say to you.

“You’re not real, Gyu. Please, just go,” you couldn’t bring a single drop of sterness to form in your tone, choosing to instead close your eyes tightly once more, not entirely sure if you were serious about what you were saying. Maybe, just maybe, he could stay with you.

Then you felt it.

Goosebumps erupted on your body as you felt the familiar pressure of his hands encompass your face, carefully titling it up to meet his eyes, filled with concern and endearment at your flustered face.

How you had longed for his touch, to get to be with him for just a moment longer, and yet here he was holding you as though you were the one that could collapse at any moment like smoke. And maybe you were. But all that mattered to you was the way he pulled you in closer, his fingertips slowly caressing your skin, dull and tired from the nights where you tried to sleep knowing that someone important had been taken away from you.

You closed your eyes, and thought that perhaps you should let yourself have this moment. It didn’t matter how destructive you were being, or the fact that you could potentially be starting your healing process over. But what did matter, was the man in front of you, the same one you wished you could have loved for a moment longer.

Beomgyu watches your eyes flutter close, his eyes lingering on your eyelashes that shiver against your skin, your distressed expression immediately relaxing underneath his touch. He knows that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he might be risking his moments with you, but he couldn’t help the sudden feeling that overtook him when he saw your disheveled form, shaking harder and harder the longer he stood by you, giving no explanation as to how he was there, or why.

He would explain everything to you, Beomgyu thought, but at the moment, all he cared about was having you calm down, to have you in his arms again as he comforted you.

You flinched in surprise as you felt his lips softly kiss your forehead, lingering against your skin, not attempting to properly pull away as the two of you sat on the floor, clinging to each other’s presence, yet afraid to make a wrong move.

His breath blew on your skin, shivers erupting all over you as you began to shake, your heart twisting and lungs shrinking at the thought of having him in front of you again.

You couldn’t do it. No amount of strength, whether physical or mental, could prevent you from collapsing into his arms, immediately clinging onto the cotton of his sweatshirt when you found that he hadn’t disappeared. God, you think that no amount of healing will ever prevent you from wanting to collapse into Beomgyu, to pretend that things aren’t the way they are.

And as you attempt to regain your composure, only to fail, you realize that Beomgyu was now clinging to you also, his soft sniffles hidden under your shaky breaths, his head nuzzling against the top of yours, hands rubbing your back soothingly as he pulled you close to his chest, the cold and empty feeling foreign to you as he continued to cage you into his body, only to feel as though he weren’t there at all.

Yet you still clung to him, and as he let you, his arms wrapped tightly around your body, you wondered if he felt the same too.

You weren’t sure how he was here, or why, but all you knew is that you were going to allow yourself to savor this moment, and ask for explanations later, if you could.

But for now, pretending as though Beomgyu was back and safe in your arms was enough for you.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You woke up to the sight of a familiar view out your window, the cloth curtains allowing you to see the sun begin to rise. You were encased in your thick duvet, the tight, uncomfortable feeling of your clothes that you had worn to your lover’s service suddenly gone. Your heart raced as you remembered everything that had happened, sitting up and looking around you wildly.

Beomgyu was nowhere to be found.

You really wish that you hadn’t gotten your hopes up, and that you hadn’t convinced yourself that everything was going to be alright. You slowly slide out of your covers, only to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, surprised by what you saw. Instead of your stuffy, old clothes that took energy away from you by simply looking at them, you had now been changed to a simple oversized t-shirt, the fabric soft and loose, paired with one of your old sleeping shorts.

Frowning softly, you looked around, only to see that you were back in your bedroom. How did you get here?

“Ah, about time you woke up,” turning around at the sound, you tried to ignore the way the tension seemed to slide off your body, the sight of the very man that occupied your mind easily reassuring you. “From the way you slept the whole day yesterday, I was afraid that you were going to get sick.”

You slowly walked towards him, stopping in front of him as he stared at you expectantly. For a moment, you wanted to reach out and hold his hand, but stopped yourself, arm flinching before staying in its place.

“How are you still here?” You asked, observing him as he seemed to think about what to say. “You’re…” you hesitated, the words feeling heavy in your chest as they began to get stuck. Your throat constricted as you stared at him, your eyes glossing over in frustration. You couldn’t say it. You couldn’t say anything, and you were stuck standing dumbly whilst staring at the man in front of you, not knowing what to do.

“I know,” he whispered out, avoiding your gaze and choosing to instead look out the window. He took slow steps as he walked towards the view, your gaze following him as he stood in front of the window, the light casting an orange glow into the room. You tried to ignore the way that the light seemed to pass through him, his body glowing as he stood there, not interacting with anything around him.

“I know that I’m not… supposed to be here,” Beomgyu breathed out the words that had been on both of your minds finally being released into the room, the air heavy with its meaning. “It’s just- I don’t know where to go,” he turned to you, brown eyes glowing from the sunlight that penetrated your window, his eyes searching yours as he continued to explain his situation.

“I feel…stuck,” he finally admitted. He looked at his hands, nauseous as he could see the floor beneath them, his skin transparent and pale. He looked back up at you, uncertain and afraid of saying his next few words.

“Can you help me?”

You felt as time had stopped as you stood there, frozen as his words rang in your head. He was stuck? Here? How would you be able to help him? You could barely help yourself. But as you stared at him, you could see that he was afraid.

Beomgyu was just as lost as you. He was terrified. Terrified of losing you, of leaving you behind, of being dead. But the longer he stayed with you, the more he felt heavy, as though something bad was about to happen to him. He didn’t want to feel this way anymore, as though he was lost in a world that was once his home.

When he had woken up, he was back in his bedroom, the place dark and cold. You were nowhere in sight. He remembered the day after he died so vividly, it almost haunted him whenever he was alone. He remembered wandering around the house, not realizing that he was dead, looking for you everywhere. It wasn’t until he heard your cries in the backyard that he knew that something was wrong.

When he had found you, you were sitting between Taehyun and Hueningkai, so small and fragile as you clung to them, sobs wrecking your body violently. He remembered wanting to reach out to comfort you, to ask what was wrong, but when he reached out his hand, he finally noticed it.

His hand was pale, slightly transparent under the oranges and pinks of the sunset. As soon as the fear sank in, he remembered it all. The crash, his last few moments of life, paralyzed with pain and terrified as the rain poured down on him relentlessly, the overwhelming nothingness of death. And as he stood behind you, watching helplessly as you clung to the two boys, he couldn’t help but feel as though something wasn’t right.

He felt as though he wasn’t supposed to be here, stuck in this strange state of limbo. The longer he thought about it, the more he would feel unsettled, yet unable to do anything but watch the world continue without him.

It was hard, at first. He was stuck watching as you became bound to your bed, unable to get up and eat. He watched as your hair matted and you began to lose weight, as you had nights where you could only sit up and stare blankly out the window, and had days where you were only able to lay down and close your eyes, sleeping the day away.

He watched as Taehyun and Hueningkai began to come over, helping you slip into an old set of pyjamas, taking you to the bathroom and helping you comb your hair. The first day that they came over haunted him the most, watching as they tried their best to help you with everything you had been struggling with.

They had sat at the edge of the bathtub, seemingly taking hours as they gently parted your hair, slowly but surely making their way through all of your knots, not a drop of frustration building behind their eyes as they continued to help you wash it and put all of your necessary products in afterwards, leaving you feeling lighter as you thanked them endlessly. He watched as they cooked small meals for you, your appetite decreasing since you had stopped eating. But they never faltered, no matter how many times they had to help you sit up to eat. Beomgyu couldn’t begin to explain how grateful he was to his friends.

He then watched as you began to come to the house less and less, leaving him to wonder where it was that you were going. It wasn’t until he finally gathered the courage to step out of the house one morning that he found out. He decided to try and follow you after he noticed you leave with a large book bag filled with clothes, and it wasn’t until Hueningkai came to pick you up that he pieced it together. You were going to stay with them.

He stayed with you the whole time, feeling uneasy whenever he stayed away from you for hours at a time. He went with you whenever he could. To the park, the grocery store, even to the two’s backyard where you would help tend to their flowers.

He went with you to his funeral service too. It wasn’t until then that he felt something inside him change as he watched you carefully, taking in your broken appearance as you could barely hold yourself up. Before that day, Beomgyu simply felt confused and dazed, unsure on what to do, or why he was still here. But watching you attempt to move on, he realized one thing. He was here because of you. Only you could help him.

He wished that it didn’t have to be like this. Beomgyu wished more than anything that he could leave you be, to not interrupt your healing process, but the more he stayed on this Earth, the more he felt as though he didn’t belong, an itchy and anxious feeling nestling itself inside him. He wasn’t sure if you would be able to help him, but he was desperate to find a cure to his unease. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be doing anymore damage to you in the process.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

Beomgyu had never gotten a proper answer from you that day.

But as he sat up in bed, his hair perfectly untouched and still remaining in his half-up half-down position, he knew what your response truly was.

“Good morning,” you had mumbled sleepily, turning to hold the boy's hand, only to hesitate. Beomgyu still had not touched you since that day, and you were still afraid to come in contact with him unless it was him that initiated it. So, you settled with placing your hand on the bed, next to his, smiling up at him softly.

“You have to get ready, don’t you?” He asked, reminding you of your plans with your two friends.

“Oh, yeah. Right,” you said, clearing your throat before sitting up, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you did.

It had been a couple of days since Beomgyu had fully revealed himself to you, and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to deal with the news. From the looks of it, you had begun to rely on the boy’s presence a lot more, as much as you were hoping not to. Though you knew you shouldn’t, you began to daydream that everything had gone back to normal, and that maybe, Beomgyu could stay with you.

You began to eat more, feeling refreshed when you were able to wake up with him by your side. You tried to put aside the fact that he remained unchanged since the night you last saw him, still wearing the same clothes that he had left you in. You knew that this was far from moving on, but as you began to search through your closet for something to wear, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“How about this?”

You turned around to see that Beomgyu was now standing in front of his own closet, his fingers hovering over one of his favorite sweatshirts. You tried to ignore the jolt in your heart as you remembered the times that you would steal it from him, the material soft and comforting when he was gone, only for him to come home and tease you for missing him so much.

You could read his expression so easily, innocent and hopeful that you would have the strength to carry this small piece of him with you in your daily life. So, you nodded, walking over to his closet, hands lingering over the piece of clothing, hesitant to take it down, to change anything that Beomgyu may have done.

You pushed those thoughts aside.

The sweatshirt felt warm and familiar, and you felt lighter as you saw yourself in the mirror, feeling a smile forming on your face as you thought of all the memories that came with it. Turning around to face Beomgyu, you felt more prepared to go hang out with your friends than you initially did.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

When you had initially arrived at the cafe that you had agreed to meet up in, Beomgyu had lingered by your side, asking if it was alright if he went with you.

“Of course I don’t mind, gyu. Whatever you think will help.”

And so he went with you, his breath hitching at the sight of his two friends waiting for you, hand in hand as they sat in a booth by the corner. When you had finally approached them, they greeted you happily, their eyes lingering on your sweatshirt, a spark of hope lighting in their hearts.

You were barely able to enter your bedroom when it all happened, so seeing you here, a healthy glow in your skin and wearing one of Beomgyu’s sweatshirts, made them hope that you were finally moving on. What they didn’t know was that it was the exact opposite to you. In your eyes, you were only able to achieve this due to the sudden presence that came back to your life.

But this wasn’t about him, this was about your friends that sat in front of you, now, chatting happily with you.

And as you began to talk and laugh with them more, the words coming out without any difficulties, you were unable to notice the moment that Beomgyu disappeared from your side.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

It wasn’t until you were sitting on the couch in their home, watching Heungingkai and Taehyun fight over what they should order to eat, that it hit you.

Beomgyu wasn’t here.

You slowly sat up, surveying the room for any signs of the boy that had asked to come with you when you first stepped out the house. You saw no signs of him.

The pain was short and sweet, before you began to remind yourself that your time with him was limited. There was nothing logical about what was happening with him, and maybe, that was it. Maybe he was gone now, for real.

You tried to push away any negative thoughts that began to spread and infect your mind, choosing to remember how happy he was in those past few days that he had come back. Sure, it wasn’t the same, but you were happy that you were at least able to spend some more time with him, to make sure that he was happy, and not afraid and unsure of his final moments.

As much as you wished you were able to say goodbye, you knew that it wasn’t likely. It’s just the way things were. And yeah, it still hurt, but there was nothing you could do about it.

Taehyun came back, pouting as he grumbled about not getting his way, when he stopped in front of you, his face filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly, sitting next to you as he pulled you in his arms, your body easily complying and burying itself in his embrace.

“Yeah,” you said softly, the words beginning to drag in your mind. “Just…. Thinking about him.”

You remained silent after that, the exhaustion seeping into you and rendering you unable to say anything else. Taehyun nodded softly, patting your back as he allowed you to remain quiet, not forcing you to elaborate on anything else.

“Yeah, he was pretty great huh,” he sighed, carefully gauging your reaction before continuing. “Remember when he first met Nana? He literally wouldn’t shut up about them, he kept insisting that he would buy treats and toys for him for the next time you hung out,” The two of you laughed softly, with Taehyun remembering the way him and Hueningkai beat him up after he wouldn’t stop talking about the dog nonstop. And about you.

Hueningkai joined soon after, sitting beside Taehyun, wrapping his arms around the two of you as he placed a soft kiss on the top of Taehyun’s head.

The three of you stayed like that, telling stories about Beomgyu until the food came. You felt safe.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

You take back what you previously thought.

About Beomgyu, you mean.

Because as soon as you opened the door to your home, you saw him again.

So much for moving on. Again.

Just as you were going to begin to question why he had suddenly disappeared, you noticed something different about him.

“Gyu, you’re…”

Beomgyu stood in front of you, his eyes wide as he stared at his body. You could barely see him, his body becoming more transparent than when you last saw him. If it weren’t for the light glow emitting from his form, you wonder if you would have been able to spot him at all.

“I think this is it.” He said, his eyes glancing up to you.

This is it? Now?

You swallowed, not knowing what to say. What were you supposed to do now, when you knew that this was your last goodbye? What were you supposed to say to him?

You felt panic lick at your heart like angry flames when you realized that you couldn’t utter a single word.

No, not now.

Just as you felt the hope inside you diminish, an idea came into your head. Yeah, it was risky, but you’d rather take a chance than to let him leave like this.

So, you motioned him to follow you, getting into your car with him following suit. He looked at you with confusion, watching silently as you pulled out of the driveway, a single thought and goal coursing in your mind.

This is it.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° . *

The car ride was silent, save for your tears that, as much as Beomgyu wished he could wipe off, streamed down your face freely.

It wasn’t until you had arrived at your destination that Beomgyu had begun to get choked up as well.

“Oh,” he said quietly, following you silently.

This had been the one place you couldn’t bring yourself to think about since Beomgyu’s death. The place where you fell in love with him, where you became his, where you spent all your free time with him.

Sitting at your usual spot at the edge of the hill, the boy quietly sat by you.

You were back at the place Beomgyu took you to for your first date, where he finally confessed his feelings to you.

The flowers began to sway softly, a sudden wind picking up as you sat silently, trying to think of what to say to the boy next to you.

There were so many things you wanted to say, but such little time. Were you ready for him to leave, to force yourself to accept that you were alone in this world now?

No. This wasn’t about you right now.

“I love you,” you finally said, every single thought and memory about him accumulating to a simple expression. Was it ever enough, with those simple words? Love was only the beginning of your complex feelings for this man, feelings you don’t think you’ll ever be able to find in anyone else. Your chest feels lighter, and you take this moment to tell him all the thoughts that had been on your mind, watching as the sun began to set.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on, you know,” you said, the words slipping out of you uncontrollably, “You mean everything to me. Beomgyu.” You turn to face him, only to see that he was already looking at you. You tried to ignore the way he was beginning to fade more and more, solely focusing on him and the things he made you feel.

“I love you, so, so much. You’re so precious to me, and I’ll never forget you. I’m glad you came into my life, no matter how long it was that you stayed.” You sighed at your last statement, tears beginning to prick at your sight, the air in your lungs escaping you quickly with no way to come back in properly.

“I just wish I got to spend more time with you.”

Your breaths were harsh and shaky as you waited for him to say something, only to see that he was in no better state than you.

Slowly, he reached out his hand, and you let him, feeling lightheaded once you were able to feel him.

He felt warm.

“I love you,” he uttered, bringing you close to him, sobs wrecking you violently as you closed your eyes, not wanting to accept that this was it. Gently, he pulled away from you, his hand sliding down your arms to intertwine with your hand, the other reaching up to wipe away your tears, looking into your eyes as if he were daring you to look away. You remained strong, waiting for him to continue.

“I want you to move on. To find your happiness, to find other people,” you were about to protest at the thought, but he dismissed it all, hushing you gently as he continued. “I want you to forget about me with the way I left, about this, and instead remember me and the life I lived.”

Slowly, he caressed your face, bringing you closer, his lips hovering above yours.

“And I want you to never forget the way I loved you, and remember that I loved you with everything in me, and always will.”

He closed the gap, and for a second, you wished you could leave with him. He embraced you tightly, the kiss soft and expressing everything the two of you might have not been able to say in this short time.

Choi Beomgyu. Your friend, your lover, your soulmate. You know, deep in your heart, that you’ll never be able to find anyone quite like him. With a fate as cruel as this, you knew that you were stuck to grow old alone, refusing to contemplate looking for someone new to love, knowing that you were just fine with what you had. You would never forget him, and you would do your best to carry a part of him with you wherever you go.

As your hands wandered up to his face, then back to his hair, playing with the hairstyle you left him in, you knew that he would be taking a part of you with him, and leaving a part of him with you. You gave yourself wholly to him, and can only hope that it was enough.

You pulled away just as the last peak of the sun vanished, leaving you with the night sky and Beomgyu’s smile, his eyes bright and blending with the stars above him.

“Thank you.”

The wind began to pick up as the light around Beomgyu began to shine brighter, hurting your eyes as you fought to keep them open. He pulled you in close one last time, his lips meeting yours in one last sweet, chaste kiss.

“I love you.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The feeling that overtook you was bittersweet, knowing that you made him happy throughout his last moments with you. Memories of your time with Beomgyu entered your mind, and you let them in, stopping at each one as you remembered the love you shared, the time you spent together.

The stars shone above you, and though there was no one by your side physically, you knew, deep in your soul, that Beomgyu had never truly left.

[lilith-jean-stark]

Secrets

Warnings: none!

Summary: You and Peter find out each other’s secrets by accident.

A/n: I’ll be setting up a blurb night soon! So stay tuned 😎

You got off the train and made your way to school. Another boring day at mid-town high. Being the sister of Tony Stark had its perks, but it also had its downsides. No one knew that you were Tony’s sister, but you had to admit that being the secret sister was nice because you didn't have people up in your face all the time, except Peter Parker. Peter Parker was the only one who knew your secret. You and Peter had been friends for years and up until a couple weeks ago he had no idea about your secret. You stupidly were doing work for Tony in your notebook while having lunch at school one day, when Peter happened to sit next to you.

*flashback*

"Ugh this formula isn't working." You thought to yourself. Maybe it was just this noisy cafeteria that was making it difficult to think.

"Hey whatcha doing?" Peter said sliding beside you on the bench. Peters eyes widened "Stark industries?" He said a bit too loudly.

"Peter shush!" You snapped and scurried to get your notes into your book bag.

"What are you doing with formulas from Stark industries?" Peter whispered.

"That's not what it is." You rolled your eyes, "silly Peter." You booped his nose with your index finger.

Peter blushed, "uhm yes y/n it is, uh," he stuttered then shook his head to break his gaze with you, "Yes it is, I have an internship, I've seen them."

"I can't say." You groaned, annoyed he didn't take the nose boop as bait to change the subject.

"Come on, it's not like I'd tell anyone." He whined.

"Okay fine, but you have to swear that you won't tell anyone." You said sticking your pinky out for the two of you to pinky swear.

"I swear." Peter said locking his pinky with yours.

You leaned in and whispered "Tony Stark is my older brother and I kinda own part of Stark industries."

"No way!" Peter looked at me in shock.

"Yes way, but it's not a big deal." You laughed and showed him a picture of you and Tony with your parents before they died.

"Wow, he's pretty cool, isn't he?" Peter said in awe.

"Maybe to you because of your internship, but as a brother he's kinda lame." You smirked and nudged Peter with your elbow, to let him know you were only joking.

*end flashback*

You smiled to yourself at how understanding Peter had been about keeping your identity from him. You stood at your locker and sorted the books you needed for class into your bag.

"Y/n!" You heard Peter shout from the other end of the hall.

You waved to him and he jogged down the hallway to you.

"How's it hanging Parker?" You asked as he leaned against the locker next to yours.

"You ready for that Chem test tomorrow?" He asked.

You rolled your eyes, you and Peter had known each other for years and he still forgets that you’re pretty much a genius.

"Sorry forgot we have a prodigy here." Peter put his hands up in defense. "Actually May has been asking about you, she wants you to come over for dinner tonight." He said, crossing his arms.

"Peter you didn't tell her did you?" You said in a hushed voice.

"What? No! She asked what you've been up to, because you know she hasn't seen you around in awhile. So I lied..." Peter trailed off and looked at you with hopeful eyes. "I said you had an internship at Stark industries too."

You laughed slightly, "I'll send Tony a text and let him know I won't be home for dinner.

"Sweet, you're not mad?" He asked.

"No peter I'm not mad. You're actually a genius for telling her that." You smiled at him for being so sweet and for protecting your secret. Even though you knew he was dying to tell Ned and pretty much anyone who would listen.

"Oh and Ned might be by later too. He's got this lego Death Star he wants to build." Peter said staring to get all giddy.

"Wait, didn't you two build that a couple months ago?" You raised an eyebrow curiously at him.

Peters face went red, "oh yea i meant he needed help with his homework." He said quickly and started off down the hall, "gotta go gonna be late for class."

You sighed and headed to class. You didn't think anything of Peters weird behavior, due to the fact that Peter was sometimes scatter brained.

Peter got to math class and sat next to Ned.

"You can't come over tonight." Peter whispered to him.

"Why not , the Death Star isn't going to build itself Peter."

"Y/n is coming over for supper and she thinks we already put it together. She'll get suspicious." Peter whisper yelled.

"Fine, but it wouldn't have to be rebuilt if someone didn't make me drop it." Ned rolled his eyes at him "And you haven't told her about you know what yet?"

"No I can't Ned." He mumbled.

Later after school peter went and did his usual spider man stuff. He was just about done and was heading home and then realized that he had forgot about you. He raced home and climbed into his room through the window. His bedroom door was already shut, so he dropped to the floor and took his mask off.

The door opened, "hey Peter, May said to make myself at home..." you started to say, your eyes focused on your phone.

Peter quickly pressed his suits release button and let it fall to the floor, then kicked it under his bed.

"She said I'd find you in..." You stopped short of yourself when you looked up from your phone, to see Peter standing there in front of you in his boxers. It was just like Ned all over again, Peter had thought to himself.

"Woah Sorry Parker." You put your hands up in defense and smirked, holding back laughter. You stood there staring at him and laughed, "I guess I should have knocked."

Peter blushed, "Aunt May, can you please stop letting people in my room without knocking!" He shouted.

"I'll go check out what May is up too and come back when your dressed." You said.

"No, its fine!" Peter said, grabbing a sweatshirt and pulling on pants.

"Why were you in your underwear anyway?" You asked.

"I was warm." He lied.

You shut the door and glared at Peter. "You better not be lying to me. You realize that I have access to the worlds largest data pool, if I want to know something, I’ll find out."

"Look Y/n, i am not lying." Peter almost couldn't get the words out. You frightened him sometimes, you were very confident and fierce, never caring what others thought of you.That and you were smarter than him and you were pretty much one of the most powerful people in America with being a stark. Even if Peter was a good liar, you could still tell whether he was lying or not and if looks could kill, you would be shooting daggers from your eyes.

Peter watched you as you tilted your head to look behind him. "So what's that?" You pointed to the underneath of his bed.

"Nothing, just stuff."

"Peter?" You pushed past him and grabbed his Spider-Man suit and pulled it out from under the bed.

"You just happen to have a bright red leotard?" You questioned and then spread it out before he could rip it out of her hands. "Peter!!!!" You gasped and dropped the suit, "That's spider mans suit, I built that!" You shot him a look, "wait are you Spider-Man?" You asked as your eyes grew wide with realization.

"Yes." Peter said annoyed and grabbed the suit, hiding it in his bookbag. Then he realized what you had said, his eyes widened "you built that?!"

You grabbed the bookbag and pulled the suit from it. "Yes I did, Tony asked me to do a suit for some spider guy. I didn't think he was talking about you!" You exclaimed and examined the suit. "What did he tell you about the suit?” You asked.

"Mr. Stark said he made it." Peter said nervously.

"God of course he did.” You rolled your eyes. “Anyway that's besides the point, you're Spider-Man and you've been using my tech to help you fight crime? Did Tony tell you about the formulas too!? Is that why you caught me in the cafeteria." You looked anxious and kept looking at the suit.

 "No, the formula I noticed was mine..." Peter looked down at his hands.

"Wait, the spider web goo, you made that?" You looked at him in disbelief.

"Yes I did, I gave the formula to Mr. Stark because he wanted to see if he could improve it. Then he told me to leave it how it was. I was confused when I saw you with it because Mr. Stark was the only person I told. So I figured you had to be working on Stark industries stuff if you had my web formula." Peter explained.

"Peter that's the coolest chemical reaction I've ever seen! I love playing with that stuff!" You said excitedly.

Peter blushed and you pulled him into a hug. “Let’s get out there before May starts getting suspicious.” You said almost as a hum, you were as happy as could be and even happier now that you and Peters secrets were out.

[sunonyoreface]

Anton Chigurh Imagine pt 2

He drives with the radio off.  

The silence that fills the cab would normally be awkward, however, my growing sense of fear swiftly stomps out any feelings of awkwardness, leaving no room to question the appropriate amount of silence or what type of small talk to include after mentioning the weather.

Instead, my short, rapid breaths blend with the overworked air conditioner that blasts in the background yet stands no chance against the desert heat. Is the sweat rolling down the back of my neck following the length of my spine from the unbearable heat or the overbearing presence of the man next to me? Chigurh.

His presence is strange and demanding, despite his utter silence since turning the ignition key.  His hands are placed at the eleven and one o’clock positions, his tall figure hunches over the steering wheel.  It is only now that Chigurh’s size really comes into perspective.  The man fills the vehicle and despite having the seat pushed as far back as it goes, his knees bend because his legs are too long.  Broad shoulders take up the extra space between the two of us.  His cologne fills the truck and mixes with the smell of fuel.  Patchouli, cedar, and gasoline: it’s admittedly comforting, slightly intoxicating, and certainly troublesome. 

Those dark, stoic eyes stay trained on the road and I have a hard time looking away from him.  How am I supposed to react in this situation?  

I can’t but feel more helpless than I did before.  Back to square one: escaping a man with unknown intentions, however, any possible solution that might’ve worked before is not an option now. Mr. Jameson would have been miles easier to escape than Chigurh and yet I couldn’t even accomplish that.

And what did I really win or lose in that coin toss?  My mind races to the worst options possible and I can only pray that he isn’t involved with human trafficking.  After being trapped by Mr. Jameson, I don’t know how much more I can take. Maybe on some moral standard, he is better than those men. He hasn’t so much as looked at me since we started back down that same gravel road. He didn’t shoot me and leave me for the ravens and coyotes to scavenge. Yet, we’ve already passed two towns and it is apparent that he is not going to let me go.  But how long does he plan on keeping me around?  Is he waiting for something? Someone? 

The only time we stopped was back at his old pickup, not to switch vehicles, so that he could grab a duffle bag and some kind of canister with a strange attachment on the end.  It’s the only thing separating us on the velvety blue bench seat.  Every once in a while, we hit a pothole and the canister rolls, lightly bouncing off my thigh. Chigurh steals a glance at the canister, his eyes lingering on the metallic coat. The cool metal feels nice on my bare skin, yet I can’t help but wonder what the canister is for. Why did he stop to grab it?

Questions and questions pile up in the back of my mind, but I’m smarter than to open my mouth.  Especially around this man who is very apparent with his preference for silence.  I worry even my breathing might get on his nerves.  I can only imagine what happens to the people who dare to vex this man.  

We approach the third town since leaving Mr. Jameson and Tommy with bullets between their eyes in the middle of the Texas desert, this one smaller than the rest with a single gas station on the main stretch of road leading into town. This time, he signals to turn in.

He looks at me for the first time in hours. Dark eyes capture mine with a clear message to stay put.  Ah, yes, stay put, I don’t exactly have a great track record of that. Yet he still leaves me alone to head into the gas station. Even if I did run, I’m not sure I’d be that successful. This town is too small to have a sheriff or police station, can’t be larger than two maybe three hundred people.  Just large enough to have a gas station, but small enough that a hotel or grocery store can’t stay afloat. No one wanders the gravel streets. The five o‘clock sun beats down on dry lawns and cracked shingles that have nothing to shade them. Right now, I might be better off waiting.

He's back before long with two bottles in his hand, still dressed in a black denim jacket despite the heat. The sound of the gas pump clicking off echoes slightly. The creak of the heavy steel door as it opens and shuts.

There is something more alive about his face since returning from inside.  Air conditioning maybe? He holds out a peace offering, a cool water bottle dripping with condensation, then from his jacket pocket, a bag of salted corn nuts.

“Thank you” despite my hushed tone, my voice still manages to crack. My hand wraps around the bottle, yet he doesn’t let go.  Eyes meet again. He waits, tantalizingly, before finally letting go of the water bottle. Cool water coats the inside of my throat, a desperate replenishment. Dark eyes watch my wet lips purse themselves, a quick swipe of the tongue to catch any last drops. His water bottle crackles under his tightening grip. “Mr. Chigurh, can I ask you-“

“Anton,” he rasps.

“Sorry, Anton, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.” He doesn’t smile.

“What is this-” my hand reaches for the metal leaning against my thigh, “this canister?”

“It's not a canister, it’s a bolt stunner.”

“What’s it for?” The corner of his mouth quirks up the slightest amount.

“Would you like to see?” While nearly invisible on his face, the smile is evident in his voice. Something in me regrets asking, fearing Chigurh’s offer.

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re not sure? Well, you asked, so surely you’d like to see.”

 “Ok.” I try to not look scared by nodding my head but my mouth is dry again and the voice in the back of my head whispers that was a mistake. I should have kept my mouth shut.  

 “In due time.” 

“You’re not going to show me now?” He smiles again, this time at what he knows and I don’t.

“No.” The keys twist in the engine, the old truck rumbles to life. My eyes find their way to the plastic water bottle. A third of the liquid remains.

[songmingisthighs]

[19.06] mafia!hongjoong × reader

⇀ you were interested in hongjoong, a notorious leader of a very successful mafia organization. sadly he didn't see you that way. if only he knew the true you before making a rash judgement

⇁ tw : mafia life, angst, mentions of black market activities, death, violence, dark stuff. read at your own risk.

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author’s imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

The door to Hongjoong's office opened and in walked his right hand, with a teasing smirk on his face. Hongjoong looked up from the paperwork on his desk and looked up to the man with a raised eyebrow, "what are you smirking at?" he questioned.

Seonghwa nodded his head towards the door, "there's someone here for you," he said whilst holding onto his laughter. Hongjoong shifted his gaze from his friend to the door and then back to him again, "who?" "your girlfriend," Seonghwa teased.

Before Hongjoong could throw anything at him, though, Seonghwa had run off, laughing heartily.

Not long after, you came into his office with a wide smile. As per usual, you were dressed to impress, head to toe with a black and white vintage channel mini skirt and blazer, adorned with a channel necklace and earrings. As you walked in, Wooyoung, one of Hongjoong's trusted men, looked at your passing figure with mouth hanging low and a starstruck look on his face. But you didn't care, you only had eyes for Hongjoong.

It has been roughly five months since you started dropping into Hongjoong's office. Your dad, an equally highly successful head of the mafia from where you're from, wanted you to get married to expand his business and make more allies. He gave you several options but you were immediately intrigued by Hongjoong, one of the mafia heads he made a partnership with by providing him with weapons. The comprehensive file your dad gave you did Hongjoong no justice so you decided to get to know him for real.

Unluckily, Hongjoong is very secretive and protective of himself and his family (re: his brothers; his most trusted men in the mafia). He had been betrayed so many times before and his thirst for revenge both became his strength and downfall. While he managed to build a highly acclaimed mafia organization at such a young age, he closed off everyone who he deemed not worthy of his attention even after only seeing them for less than five minutes.

Sadly, that included you. You weren't the only one who got a comprehensive file on the other, he too had one of you. A straight-A student from Wharton with hobbies consisting of horseback riding and charity? He wondered whether you were preparing to take over your dad's mafia or to steal the Crown of England and be its ruler.

Hongjoong tried his best to hold in a groan of annoyance but even so, some still escaped him and you heard it. Though you were used to it so you just ignored him.

"Hi, Joong," you grinned widely at him, walking in and putting a medium-sized box of cake on his desk after closing his door. "Don't call me Joong," he grumbled.

In all honesty, your bubblegum personality sickened him. He knows for a fact that no one is that happy-go-lucky and excited and has rainbows shooting out of their asses 24/7. So there has to be something you were hiding from him.

You only chuckled at his response, "You're a sourpuss, you know that? You're gonna have wrinkles before you hit thirty if you keep frowning all the time like that," you said as you focused yourself on opening the cake box.

Inside it was the cake you made for him. All the times you visited him, you never made him something from scratch. You were trained to be the head of a mafia organization one day, not in the kitchen. So that cake was the very first thing you made and you were beyond proud of yourself.

"Look," Hongjoong exhaled sharply, starting to get annoyed even before you did anything, "You came at a bad time, I need to get a hundred thousand things done before tonight, in case you didn't realize, my organization is-" "in the brink of war with Stray Kids, I know, I've read the reports," you simply said, hands moving to cut the cake in front of you to hand to him.

"I have connections with the leader's soft spot, the foreigner one, I can make a deal that would help your case if you would jus-"

"NO!!!!" he yelled out, slamming his hands onto his desk, startling you so much that you accidentally dropped your knife and stepped back a little.

Maybe it was the stress of having to deal with things alone, or maybe it's just him finally snapping from overthinking about you, but one thing's for sure is that he had had enough. He needed to put you in your place.

"You may be your daddy's little princess back home, all dressed in white and pink and lace, showered with Channels, Tiffanys and your hoity-toity prestigious Wharton degree. But here, you're nothing, got me? You understood nothing about having to work your ass off to get the recognition and rewards you deserve, you had your daddy behind you this whole time and that's very convenient for you. But don't come here and act like you know shit, okay? Our worlds are different, you came from a cotton candy palace, I came from the ditch, your opinion means less than shit to me," he spat out so quickly, he didn't realize that your expression changed to something that he had never seen before.

Your eyes were blank and glazed, lips slightly quivering and chest heaving.

Hongjoong thought that he had really put you in your place and he was about to celebrate the fact that he might finally drove you away when you opened your mouth.

"Cotton candy palace? Not understanding having to work my ass off?" you choked out.

At first, Hongjoong thought you were gonna cry. But a sadistic, maniacal laugh resonated in the room from where you were doubled over, holding onto your stomach.

It was Hongjoong's turn to be stunned into silence.

"Oh my god, I thought you were smarter than that," you muttered as you calmed down, wiping tears from the corner of your eyes, "you think that this is who I am?" you asked with a raised eyebrow at him.

Hongjoong was confused about whether or not he should speak. It was the first time anyone had ever stunned Hongjoong and Hongjoong didn't know what to do.

"I was born from a girl who was en route to be sold in a human trafficking ring, I came out premature and was about to be sold to a satanic cult as their sacrifice but my 'dad' 'rescued' me. I was stored in a facility with thirty other children, we were trained to be assassins since before we could walk, brainwashed with ideals that ruined our brains. One by one, each year some of us were taken out if we show a lack of improvement or no promise," as you talked, you took off your earrings and necklace and put them on Hongjoong's desk.

While you ran a hand through your messy hair, you stared into him deeply, "I was seven when I first killed someone, my last competition. She was two years older than me and she was sold by her parents for coke money, or as the warden told us. We were reminded every day of how worthless we are so we wouldn't rebel and escape. But even in despair, I wanted something more. That's where daddy came in. He was impressed with me and he took me in as his daughter, telling people one of his whores were pregnant with me to assure my legitimacy. I was schooled in my own private red room. I had to fight for my right as a human being, I made deals with my dad to be able to go out with bodyguard escorts for only an hour every month,"

Hongjoong's eyes followed your hands that gripped onto the edge of your skirt, "did your little binder wrote that I went on my first official mission when I was just twelve? My dad cut the ballet lesson that I trade in for 120 hours of combat training short to gear me up, put me in a room of adult men and sent me off to plant an active bomb in 5 minutes in an air vent of the headquarters of his rival, crazy, right?" you chuckled humorlessly whilst ripping your skirt off to reveal your black shorts inside, a knife and a gun holstered on your thighs were revealed, making Hongjoond's eyes widened.

He never would have imagined someone like you to carry weapons under your very girly outfit. Or to even have such a traumatizing backstory.

"My whole appearance is compensation for my very dark upbringing, I wanted to hide it all. My dad told me I was stupid, that I belonged in the dark, dark world. But when I went to Wharton, I tried to change myself. I thought that I might be able to be the person I wanna be by marrying someone my dad approved so I don't have to take over wholly, I could just be the voice by the side, lending my skills and help the organization indirectly,"

You looked down at your heels clad feet for a second, letting your toes point and moving them from left to right to see what it looks like.

At this point, Hongjoong felt bad for having blown up at you. You had only wanted to spend time with him and even if he didn't want to see you, he could've said it nicely. Hongjoong never felt like this before, it was very weird for him.

He was about to walk over to you when you suddenly took your heels off in a flash and threw them both at Hongjoong so hard that it embedded deep into the wall on either side of his face.

Your usual smile was replaced with a frown, the eyes that usually twinkled showed nothing but darkness. He barely recognized you and he was on edge about it.

"You made your standing with me perfectly clear, Kim Hongjoong, while my dad is one to stop things before they become an issue, I like to see how things unravel," you smirked at him.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked, not being able to process anything.

"It means that your partnership with my dad is off, good luck finding a new weapons supplier," you spat out before turning around to leave the room, leaving traces of yourself behind at his office.

Hongjoong wanted to call after you, try to make things better somehow. But his head still couldn't even wrap around the shocking information you had just revealed.

Not long after you left, Yeosang came in but stopped at the door, scanning the room that was littered with remnants of you. "What the fuck happened here? Did a hooker tried to kill you!?" he asked, still confused at the situation.

When Yeosang looked up, he saw Hongjoong in a way he had never seen him before.

Nervous.

"I-I- I think I just forged a war between us and the largest mafia weapons manufacturer on the eastern hemisphere," he uttered out.

[mochegato]

I Can’t Fight This Feeling

Chapter 5

Chapter 1     Chapter 4

The Gotham air was clear and crisp and so very still.  Noises from traffic and strays rummaging through trash floated up, filling the otherwise empty air.  The peace was barely broken by the sound of two sets of feet landing on the rooftop.  They stood there awkwardly shuffling next to each other for a few minutes.  Finally something seemed to break and Red Hood removed his helmet, still not making eye contact with his companion.  Nightwing looked at him for a second before following suit and removing his domino mask.  They were far enough up that nobody could see them and if Jason wanted to talk eye to eye, Dick wasn’t going to deny him.

When Jason still hadn’t spoken a few minutes later, Dick took the initiative and spoke first.  “Thanks for helping us today.  I don’t think we could have handled it without you,” he clapped Jason on the back.

“You would have been fine.  You would have figured it out,” Jason shrugged.  “You always do.”

“Not easily.  Not without a lot of pain,” Dick corrected him.

Jason chuckled.  He gave him a skeptical look from the corner of his eye.  “First time I’ve been accused of not being a pain by you guys.”  

Dick laughed and nodded.  “It’s been a while.”  He paused and watched Jason for a few seconds.  “It felt nice… working together again.  I missed this.”

Jason looked out over Gotham.  “Yeah, wasn’t so bad.  Don’t think B was too happy though.”

Dick grimaced at the reminder.  “Bruce, he… you know he doesn’t approve of your tactics.  He isn’t sure how to handle you, what to expect.  And the bat on your chest.  It makes it seem like he approves of your methods.”

Jason nodded.  “Not going to lie.  That was the original intent.  To mess with B as much as possible.  Cause as much pain as I could.  But that’s not why I use it now.  The bat… I use it so the kids don't get scared.  So they know they can trust me.”  He sighed, his eyes flicked over to Dick quickly before returning to the skyline.  “But, I think they’ve started to figure me out.  They know who I am now, so I can change that. I can take it off, use something different.”

Dick shook his head.  “No, you keep it.  I’ll smooth it over with Bruce.”

Jason nodded absently and kept his gaze focused on the city.  He shifted anxiously for a few moments nervously twitching.  Dick eyed him curiously.  He couldn’t remember the last time Jason looked nervous.  Angry? Yes, he’s seen that a lot. Annoyed, most definitely.  He’s even seen surprise and fear.  But he didn’t think he’s seen nervous since before… well, just before.

“You know, haven't killed anyone in a long time, right?” Jason asked quietly.

Dick’s eyes widened in surprise.  He had noticed, but he wasn't sure if it was intentional or a tactic to lull enemies and Bruce, though Dick wasn’t sure if Jason considered them as separate categories, into a false sense of security.  Dick kept his eyes looking out over the city, matching Jason’s gaze.  Jason was starting to open up, just starting to show some vulnerability, and Dick would be damned if he scared him off now.

“I did notice,” he nodded slightly.  “I just didn’t know the reason behind the change.”

Jason looked down again, shifting even more nervously now.  The sounds from the cars below floated up to them, filling the silence between them while Jason collected himself and prepared for the rest of the conversation.  “I'm getting married, Dickie bird.”

Dick gasped.  His head whipped to face him. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could even figure out what he wanted to say, Jason continued.  “And she's good, Dick.  She's really good.  She used to be a hero, but doesn't remember it.  So when you meet her, you  can't say anything.  I’m only telling you so you understand just how good and trustworthy she is and B can never know.”

Dick stared at him, mouth a gape and eyes wide open.  When?  Did Jason say ‘when’?  He had heard that right hadn’t he?  “…too good for me,” Jason continued, ignoring the effect he was having on Dick.  “But she won't let me say that in front of her.  It's almost like she actually believes it, that I deserve her.”  He chuckled ruefully and shook his head at the floor.  He looked up at Dick searchingly, like the lost little boy Dick remembered from his childhood.  

“Can you believe that? Somebody actually believing that.  She's everything we were ever supposed to be, but better.  She’s more compassionate than you.  She’s smarter than Tim.  She’s more creative than Damian.  She’s braver than me.  She’s perfect.

“And you know how when you actually meet someone that you think really highly of and actually spend time with them, you start to realize maybe they're not as amazing as you thought they were?  That they’re just human and they have issues and failures just like the rest of us?”  Dick nodded absently, still focused on Jason saying ‘when he got to meet her.’  

“She's not like that,” Jason continued.  “I met her.  I’ve spent so much time with her.  Hell, I'm living with her now. And the only thing I’ve learned is she’s even more amazing than I originally thought.  She is everything to me.  She makes me want to be better, but never asks me to be because she already thinks I am.  She’s seen me at my worst and she still thinks… she still loves me.” He looked up at Dick with tears shining in his eyes.  “Can you believe that?  Can you believe someone thinks that?”

Dick gave him a small smile and pulled him into a tight hug.  “Yeah, Little Wing.  Yeah, I can.”  His grin grew wider as he replayed the words in his head.  Jason was happy.  He was really happy.  He was loved. His baby brother was getting married. He let out an excited laugh. “You’re getting married.”  He pulled away to look in his eyes.  “Tell me you proposed in an over the top romantic way.  I’d hate to think all those classic, romantic novels were for nothing.”

Jason chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.  “I did,” he assured him.  He settled down on the edge of the building and patted the space next to him for Dick to join him.  “Lots of flowers and candles and nostalgia.  She cried.”  He clasped his hands together in front of himself and smiled into them.

“You did too, didn’t you,” Dick teased knowingly.

Jason shot him a halfhearted glare but nodded.  “Yeah, yeah I did.”

Dick sat with him for a few minutes just basking in being able to sit next to Jason peacefully for the first time in a long time.  Finally, he looked over at Jason with a curious look.  “So, she’s the reason you stopped killing?  She asked you to stop?”

Jason shook his head then bobbed his head to the side instead.  “Yes and no.  She’s the reason, but she didn’t ask me to stop.  I stopped before she knew what I did exactly.  I stopped before she found out.  I stopped before I disappointed her.”

“Does she know…” he vaguely motioned to Jason’s costume.

“Yeah.  I told her. She knows everything.  She isn’t thrilled about a lot of it… almost any of it, but she never left me.  So… she knows who you guys are too.”  He grinned at the memory.  “She said the butts definitely don’t match.  Batman has padding.”  He pursed his lips in a pretend annoyed face.  “She said Nightwing’s matches though.  She wants to know your workout.”

Dick barked out a laugh loud enough for it to echo down the street.  Jason narrowed his eyes at him and pointed at him warningly.  “Yeah, so keep your ass away from my fiancé.”

Dick laughed louder and threw his arm around Jason’s shoulders and pulled him into a side hug.  “I’ll make sure to only face toward her at all times when we meet.  No turning around.”  He nodded in mock seriousness.

Jason shoved him away playfully and groaned.  “Don’t make me regret this, Dickwad.”

Dick laughed again.  He grinned over at Jason.  He’d missed this.  He’d missed this connection, the banter, the brotherly teasing.  He’d missed Jason.  “So… has she met anyone else?  In the family, I mean.”

Jason gave him a mischievous grin.  “Oh, she’s met all of you, you just didn’t know who she was.”  Dick looked at him questioningly, his mind started racing through all the women they’d met for the first time in the last year. Having had two galas in that time frame and a launch party and quite a few charity events didn’t help narrow down the possibilities.  “She won’t be a new face to you.  But, Alfred knows who she is.  He’s met her. He’s the only one that knows about us. Alfred loves her.”  He grinned again remembering them together.  His eyes lit up at the memory.  “They bake together.  He taught her how to shoot a shotgun.”

Dick barked out another laugh.  “No way! He won’t even teach us.”

Jason smiled pointedly at him.  “Bruce won’t let him.  But, Bruce doesn’t know about her and he doesn’t control what happens outside of his manor.”  After a few minutes he looked down and furrowed his brow in thought.  “She really likes you guys.  I think she and Tim would be good friends if… if I… if it wasn’t for me.  That’s one of the reasons… Family is so important to her and I want to have one with her someday.  So I thought… I thought maybe I should start with the one I already have.”

Dick nodded.  “It sounds like she’s had a big impact on you.”

Jason smiled back and stood up.  “She has. So, dinner?  Tomorrow?”

Dick stood up next to him and gave him another hug.  “Definitely.  Just let me know where and what time.  I’ll be there.”

“And Dick?”  Dick turned back to him questioningly.  “I don’t… I’m not ready for anyone else to know yet.”

Dick nodded in understanding.  “They won’t find out from me.  See you tomorrow, Jaybird.  Can’t wait to meet your fiancé.”

<><><><><> 

“You’re back earlier than you expected,” Marinette noted with a smile as she looked up from her sewing.  “Is that good or bad?  Quiet patrol?”

“Yeah.” Jason answered absently.  He ripped off his helmet and jacket.  He threw them both on the chair as he made his way over to Marinette. She squeaked as he picked her up and placed her in his lap.  He buried his head in her neck.  “Hey, Pixie.”

Marinette immediately dropped her fabric and wrapped her arms around Jason. She slowly stroked his back and gently scratched his head in an attempt to comfort him.  She nuzzled into his hair.  “Hey. Are you okay?  What happened?”

“It was fine.  I’m okay,” he assured her, hugging her a little tighter.  “I just ran into Dick tonight.”

She sucked in a breath and tightened her arms around him.  “Oh?” she tried to force her voice to stay casual despite the way her heart was racing.

“Yeah.”

Marinette waited a few minutes before continuing on.  “And how did that go?”

Jason pulled away from her so he could see her face.  He brushed some hair over her shoulder and settled his arm back around her before he spoke again.  “It went well actually.  He noticed that I changed.  He’s really excited to meet you.”

“Oh? You mentioned me?” she asked carefully. She knew how he felt about sharing any part of his life with is family.  Hell, she knew how he felt about his family in general so if he was sharing about her, it must have gone really, really well.

“Yeah… and I… um… invited him to dinner tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.”

Marinette’s heart stopped for a second.  He invited his brother to dinner.  He invited his brother back into his life.  This was… this was huge.  “I’m okay with it.  How do you feel about it?  Are you okay with him coming here?”

Jason settled his chin on her shoulder.  “I’m nervous… but excited.  I’m looking forward to it... I think.  I just… I don’t want to be a disappointment.”

Marinette pulled away from him just far enough to cup his face gently.  “The only one disappointed in you, is you. And you are far too hard on yourself.  You don’t deserve the way you treat yourself.”

“And B,” he added.

“Fuck Bruce,” she grunted before pausing.  “Not in a sexual way, obviously.”

Jason huffed out a laugh.  “Obviously.”

She stroked his cheeks gently.  “Parents make mistakes.  They have flaws and foibles just like everyone else.  You don’t become a parent and suddenly you’re perfect.  All the same flaws and foibles you had before are still there, just amplified by stress and fear of making a mistake.  But those aren’t yours to take on.  You aren’t responsible for his flaws.”

Jason chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  “Foibles, huh?”  He waggled his eyebrows.  “Oh yeah, talk literary analysis to me, baby.  Break down those characters for me.”

Marinette pushed his face away with a groan.  “Nerd.”  He laughed and hugged her closer.  Marinette looked back up at him adoringly and smirked.  “Just focus on the chaos when he finds out it’s me.”

Jason grinned back at her.  “He’s going to be so annoyed.  You’ve been working with them for months and he never knew.”  He chuckled at the thought.  “It’s going to be brilliant.”

Marinette laughed along with him.  “You should make sure to take a picture.”

Jason turned back to look at her.  His smile turned loving.  “You’re brilliant.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, sure.”

“You are.”  He moved his head closer to hers.  “You’re brilliant” He kissed her forehead.  “…and beautiful.”  He kissed her cheek.  “…and brave.” He kissed her other cheek.  “…and… um… benevolent.”  He kissed her jaw.  “… and…”

She grinned at him and moved her lips until they were just a few centimeters from his.  “Run out of attributes already?”  She looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes.  “Shame.”  She stood up and walked out of the room with a flirty glance over her shoulder.

“Hey!” he called after her.  “I wasn’t done.  That was just the B’s.”  He grinned as he watched her swish her hips as she walked down the hallway.  “Come back here and let me love you, woman!” He jumped over the back of the couch and raced down the hallway after her.

End

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @jayjayspixiepop @aespades @how-to-function-properly @pawsitivelymiraculous @maribatserver @toodaloo-kangaroo

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝘼𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙯: 𝘼𝙘𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙂𝙁 𝙃𝙖𝙨 𝘼 𝙆𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙎𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚

❥𝐾𝑖𝑚 𝐻𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑗𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔

"I know it's your job honey.....but I'm really not sure how to feel about this..... I'll support you no matter what though..."

You shook your head and held Hongjoong's hands in your own, running your thumbs across the top of his knuckles in a gentle motion.

"I know it's not easy Joong...but thanks for understanding." You smiled at him.

Pouting, he asked.

"Promise you won't fall for your co-actor?"

Chuckling you kissed his pouty lips. "Impossible when I've already fallen for you."

That comment made Hongjoong smile again....even if he was pouting once again after the showed aired and your kissing scene was trending all over. You came to visit him at the studio, food in hand for him and Eden, who had gotten used to having you around.

"Hi Y/N." He greeted you.

"Hi Eden- nim. Hongjoong?"

Hongjoong merely sat there, arms crossed as he glared at the screen in front of him.

"He's been like that all afternoon. I think you should do something." Eden decided it was his cue to leave for a couple minutes.

Tapping his shoulder, you called out to him again.

"Kim Hongjoong?"

He startled you by spinning around and facing you, suddenly blurting out:

"You're still interested in me right?"

Which caused you to burst out laughing.

❥𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑘 𝑆𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑤𝑎

Maybe if you had told Seonghwa beforehand that you were going to have a kissing scene, everything would have been better. But you were busy with filming and he had to practice endless hours for their upcoming comeback that it was difficult to even talk for 5 minutes and it completely slipped your mind.

So one day, you came home and where you were surprised to see Seonghwa standing there, arms crossed as he tapped his foot on the floor.

"Oh Hwa! Didn't expect you here." You said.

"That makes two of us who weren't expecting things." He huffed out.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

"What are you talking about?"

Seonghwa tilted his head, his voice full of passive aggressiveness as he said:

"I'm talking about this!" He held up his phone, showing a screencap of you kissing your co-star.

"I take it you're not happy?" You asked him.

Seonghwa scoffed before letting out a dry laugh.

"Oh no! Of course not! I'm totally fine with someone else exchanging saliva with my girlfriend." He replied sarcastically, holding up his phone again.

You cringed. "Stop the sarcasm. It's only cute when Yeosang does it."

"Oh! So now even Yeosang is cuter than me?!" He exclaimed.

"Park Seonghwa, stop this nonsense before I throw your lint roller in my cat's litter box."

❥𝐽𝑒𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑛ℎ𝑜

You felt Yunho shift awkwardly next to you, his hand reaching for some of the popcorn that was in between both of your bodies.

"Yunho, you know it's not necessary to watch it if you don't want." You reminded him, knowing what scene was about to come up next.

Yunho immediately plastered a smile on his face.

"No honey! It's ok. I'm your big, supporting boyfriend who will cheer you on no matter what!" Lifting his fists up, he tried to show enthusiasm, but you could tell he wasn't being genuine.

Yunho glued his eyes back on the tv, one of his legs nervously swinging back and forth. He seemed to be doing fine during the whole confession scene, but when you and yours co-star kissed, he accidentally swung to hard that he ended up hitting the coffee table in front of him. You were about to check up on him, thinking he got hurt, but he just started laughing nervously.

"I'm ok! Just a muscle spasm." He joked.

You never took your eyes off him, knowing that beneath that smile, he was feeling sad and rather insecure about you kissing someone else. You were happy he at least tried to be happy and supportive of you, but you also knew you hated to see him upset.

Sitting up, you turned off the tv and then scooted closer to him. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, making sure to give them one quick peck before pulling back.

"I love you my not so little pup." You giggled at him as he blushed and looked down shyly.

Yunho turned back to you before pushing you down on the couch, pressing you against his back as he wrapped his arms around you.

"I love you too Y/N. And you really did do amazing."

❥𝐾𝑎𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑒𝑜𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑔

"Yeosang!"

Seonghwa shouted at him when he didn't answer for the 6th time.

"Huh?" He merely took a 1 second glance at the older male before gluing his eyes back on the tv.

"We can change it to something else-"

"No! I will watch it!" He exclaimed, surprising everyone at how loud he got.

"Yeosang....bro.....if you're not ok with this, it'd be better if you don't watch it." His longtime friend Wooyoung advised him.

"I'm ok! I'm totally fine! Just peachy." He picked up his boba tea and began sipping it at a rather fast pace, his eyes squinting at the tv in front of him.

The other guys looked amongst themselves, trying to decide to let him be or change it. Hongjoong ultimately told them it was Yeosang's call and therefore, they watched the rest of the drama.

When your character got kissed, Yeosang halted his sipping, eyes focused on the screen. The other guys tried not to say anything, but when the kiss got a little bit more heated, San couldn't help but let out a "ooooh" while Jongho covered his eyes and made a gagging noise.

Meanwhile Yeosang spat out the leftover liquid into his cup.

"I'm not ok! I am not ok!"

Standing up, Yeosang retreated to his bedroom, where he proceeded to crawl under the covers of his blanket and start groaning dramatically.

Getting up and following him, Wooyoung shook his head as he dialed your number.

"Ok, so your kissing scene broke him. So you better come over with some fried chicken and fix him or else I'll make you pay for making me deal with him if he's not repaired in 2 hours."

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝑆𝑎𝑛

As soon as San heard rumors that you were going to have a kissing scene, he immediately called you to make sure they were lies.

"NOOOOOO!!!"

He screeched when you indeed confirm there'd be a kissing scene.

"I'm totally against this! I will not allow this to happen."

You asked the boys to keep him from coming over to the set, but unfortunately San was a cat that could easily slip unnoticed. So you were only made aware of his presence while you were in the middle of shooting your kiss scene because while you and your co-star were leaning in, you heard an extremely loud cough from behind you, which unfortunately got recorded.

"Cut!" The director yelled.

You turned around and nearly flipped out when San merely greeted you with a wave, as he simultaneously glared at your co-star. You spent about 10 minutes trying to shoot the same scene, only for it to be ruined every time due to San's antics. He'd either pretend to sneeze really loudly, push off certain props that made loud noises, even messed around with one of the ropes that sent a sand bag catapulting down the ceiling, nearly injuring your co-star.

"Oops. I just wanted to see what that lever did." He smiled innocently.

Having had enough, you grabbed him by the ear and dragged him out, all while he cried for you to stop in a high pitched voice.

"Listen here Choi San, this drama is supposed to be my big break and I will not have you ruining it for me, got it?!" You warned him.

San merely nodded with a pout.

"Please just don't enjoy it."

Rolling your eyes, you pecked his lips.

"Dopey cat. I only enjoy your kisses."

❥𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑖

The other guys began laughing as Mingi stared wide eye at the tv in shock as he watched you lip lock with your co-star.

"Mingi! Calm down bro!" San clapped like a seal, dying from laughter.

"It's only acting." Yunho patted him on the shoulder.

Mingi looked back and forth at the tv and them.

"Please tell me there's new technology that edits kissing instead of actually having people physically do it."

His sentence only made them laugh even harder, while he just sat there, pouting intensely. He continued pouting even after you came over to spend time with him. At first you thought he just had a bad day or missed you a lot more than usual. He was clinging onto you even more, his arms instantly wrapping behind you, face hidden on your neck as he nuzzled his nose against your skin. Every time you pulled him off because you needed to go somewhere or get something, he'd follow behind you, linking pinkies with you or holding onto your arm. Then when he began pecking your lips at random times, you knew something was up, which didn't take you long to figure out.

"You saw the scene didn't you?"

Mingi immediately nodded, huffing softly as he cuddled up to you, resting his head on your stomach. You chuckled and ran your fingers through his hair.

"Mingi if it makes you feel better, I thought of you while filming it."

Although he didn't say anything, you knew he was more than likely grinning like an idiot in love.

❥𝐽𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑜𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔

You really did try to keep Wooyoung from finding out about the kissing scene, even going as far as asking the guys to distract him from watching your drama. But Wooyoung was smarter than you thought.

"There's something she doesn't want me to see. Isn't there?"

So the boys had no choice but to sit there and watch your drama with Wooyoung. He just sat there, straight face throughout the entire thing. But when you kissed your co-star he got the biggest smirk on his face.

"Oh.....so that's what you didn't want me to see." Wooyoung already began thinking about how to mess and tease you with this information, which was exactly the reason you didn't want him finding out in the first place.

As soon as you walked in your apartment, Wooyoung switched the lamp on and turned around in his chair, arms folding across his chest.

"Welcome home cheater."

At that point, you knew you were screwed. And he made sure to milk it for days. If you tried to hug him, he'd squirm out of your embrace. And if you tried to kiss him, he'd turn his face away and say:

"No! I'm not kissing you with that dirty, lying, cheating mouth of yours."

You had enough one day when he refused to cuddle with you though, so you opted for a different option. Getting up, you went over to his room, Wooyoung barely paying attention. When he heard Yeosang scream, he turned his head and watched him run out.

"Please just show your crazy girlfriend affection! She crawled into my bed and attempted to cuddle me!" Yeosang shivered from the physical contact.

Getting up, Wooyoung stormed over to the room.

"So now you're gonna be replacing me with my best friend?! Nuh uh! Come here so I can cuddle you!"

❥𝐶ℎ𝑜𝑖 𝐽𝑜𝑛𝑔ℎ𝑜

"Jongho, remember....stay calm." Hongjoong reminded him.

"Hyung...please. I'm mature and understand this was strictly professional. I'm not going to get mad." Jongho rolled his eyes at the leader.

"Ok, just in case though."

Yunho and Mingi proceeded to sit on opposite sides of him on the couch. Jongho merely scoffed.

"Wow so much for having faith in me. Some older brothers you guys are."

It was good of them to take precautions. Jongho tensed up when he saw your kissing scene, which then turned to outrage when he saw how your co-star's character deepened the kiss and made it even more steamy.

"Hold the fuck up! I thought this was just supposed to be a tiny kiss..."

He glared at the tv, as if trying to set it on fire.

"This is a fucking makeout scene!"

Unable to contain himself anymore, Jongho yelled as he got up from the couch, Yunho and Mingi immediately holding him back from destroying the tv or any other furniture within his reach.

"Guys be careful! He's loose!" San exclaimed as he climbed on top of the couch, Wooyoung following suit.

"Seonghwa! Get some apples for him to relieve stress and anger!" Hongjoong ordered as he attempted to calm Jongho down.

Meanwhile Yeosang just sat there quietly, munching on one of his chicken drumsticks, watching the chaotic scene unfold. Shaking his head, he picked up his phone and called you up.

"Your boyfriend's gone feral. Do you want to come tame him or can I call animal control to come take care of him?" He asked.

"Seriously Yeosang? You're an ass. I'll be there soon." You sighed as you hung up, making a mental note to yourself to pick up all of Jongho's favorite foods.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners.

[kaistarus]

BitterSweet

Pairing: Itadori YuujiXReader

Words: 2.4K

Summary: How Yuuji makes his way into your life with brights smiles and shitty coffees

A/N: just in time for his b-day :3 i’ve loved this boi since before i even started jjk, so i’m glad I got to finally write for him lol

Masterlist

Bitter.

Bitter-with a hint of vanilla-was what you associated with Itadori Yuuji. His beaming smile at your first tutoring session forever connected with the pungent coffee he offered you.

You stared at the cup skeptically, “what is that?”

“Coffee?” Yuuji answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought every college student liked coffee.”

He wasn’t wrong, “but why did you get it?”

“Because you got up so early to help me,” Yuuji’s smile widened as he waved the drink around.

“Well I’m scheduled, so I would have been here whether you signed up or not.” You pointed out, glancing at the clock nearby that read too-early-in-the-morning and gestured for him to hand it over. He looked so pleased with himself that you were sure if he was a dog his tail would be going wild.

That was the only explanation you had for why you didn’t tell Yuuji it was the worst thing you’d ever tasted, hiding your full body cringes when he looked up after digging through his backpack.

“So, what are we doing first?” He asked excitedly, holding a creased notebook with uneven pages and a packed folder with papers hanging out. You stared at it wearily, but unfortunately he was far from the worst case scenario-a folder was huge compared to some you’d run into.

“I guess just give me your last exam and we’ll work from there.”

Yuuji chuckled awkwardly, fingering through the mass of papers in his folder before producing a packet marked heavily in red ink. You sighed at the single digit number at the top with a frowny face beside it.

Looked like you and Itadori Yuuji were going to be spending a lot of time together.

**************

“You’re overthinking it, Yuuji.” You rubbed your temples having spent the last thirty minutes working through the same problem with no success. You were beginning to lose all hope.

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “I’m supposed to figure out the probability of what movies were action movies, but how was she able to watch eighty movies in one week?”

“That isn’t the question.”

“It isn’t possible though!” He jabbed his eraser at the paper. “Did she sleep? I bet this Melissa chick fast forwarded or skipped.”

“Yuuji…”

“Can you go a full week without sleep? If she slept through some, are they part of the eighty?” He gripped his pink locks in frustration. “How do I know which she slept through? Is there a timeline?”

You deadpanned as he scanned the page stressfully like it was holding him hostage with its contents, “I don’t think they provide a timeline, no.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji sighed defeated, slouching forward to rest his chin on the library’s table. “I swear I’m trying.”

You leaned against your palm, eyes softening as he glared at the homework sheet under him. “Don’t apologize,” you slid the sheet from under his chin. “You’re my favorite session after all.”

“I am?” He perked up.

You rolled your eyes while circling a segment of the first word problem. “You can just make up wild backstories for each person. Melissa doesn’t have to sleep and can absorb movies abnormally fast or something.”

Yuuji blinked several times as his lips curved into a smile. “What about the guy who owns over four-hundred chickens?”

You forced down your own smile and shrugged, “he’s just lonely.”

Yuuji laughed, continuing down the page while spewing out ridiculous stories for the unfortunate names in the Stats problems. Your heart beat firm in your chest at how excited he was now while scanning the page. The ticking clock above you felt like a curse the closer it got to the end of your session.

You guessed you didn’t hate the mornings anymore if they were with him.

*************************

You tapped your pencil’s eraser impatiently on the booth's table. The smell of brewing dark roast drifting through the small cafe accompanied by the combined noises of workers preparing early risers beverages kept you from dozing off where you sat. Finally, after what felt like forever-probably a few minutes-Yuuji slid into the booth across from you and placed a mug in front of you.

“I can buy my own coffee, Yuuji.” You took the mug wearily, eyes darting around the near empty cafe you’d decided to meet at this week to ‘spice things up’ in his words. “People might get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t think you cared about that stuff,” he said with a teasing smile that you returned with a half-assed glare. “It’s my payment for making me smarter.”

“I already get paid,” you pouted at the drink in your hands. “And you’re already smart. I just help you understand it.”

He didn’t respond and you glanced over, confused at his slack jaw expression.

“Oh,” he started shuffling through his backpack and you swore his cheeks were dusted pink. “Yeah, that-uh-makes sense.”

“Right,” you raised a brow at the weird response, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. There wasn’t enough time in the world to question every random thing Yuuji did.

 “What’s on the schedule today boss?”

“Your exam’s tomorrow,” you said, pulling some sheets from your own backpack. “I printed your practice exam since I’m guessing you didn’t know it existed.”

“Hey,” he pouted. “I didn’t, but still...”

You snorted, sliding the packet across the table. “Just do the ones you can and I’ll help with the rest.”

He saluted you, unnecessarily scribbling his name across the top before getting to work-his tongue poking out adorably while his eyes scanned the words intensely. You felt your chest filling with an unfamiliar warmth as you watched him work and your hand drifted subconsciously toward the mug next to you.

You coughed, unprepared for the harsh flavor, only wiping the grimace off your face when Yuuji peered upward with an innocent head tilt. Your heart squeezed when you locked eyes too long with his dark hazel before a soft smile filtered onto his lips. You quickly dropped your stare, hoping that if you avoided looking at him you could avoid the weird feeling emotion rolling in your stomach as well.

***************

You slouched up the library's stairwell, pushing through the second story’s double doors that led to your usual reserved tutoring table. The school really needed to push back your start time-seven in the morning was way too early for any college student to effectively teach or learn anything. The only person ridiculous enough to continuously sign-up for this time was-

You gripped your backpack straps as strong arms wrapped themselves around your midsection, picking you off the ground without warning. An unwanted frightened squeal left your lips before you recognized Yuuji’s laughter behind you and you relaxed as much as you could with him spinning you around in a library half-full of people.

“What are you doing?” You glared at him over your shoulder, cheeks warm from embarrassment at the scene he was causing.

“I got a C!”

You blinked several times before prying his arms off you, “are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he slid his backpack off, digging around before offering you a crumpled up packet with a seventy-four and a smiley written on top. You stared at it with a growing smile and without thinking too much you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yuuji, this is amazing!”

“I know,” he laughed, encircling your waist awkwardly given your backpack. “My roommate didn’t believe me. She’s doing my dishes for a week thanks to you.”

You weren’t sure you felt good about that after seeing his level of disorganization, but you smiled back anyway. “I’m so proud of you.”

Which was true. Your chest was swollen near bursting with pride for him and he’d only gotten a C. You told yourself it was because of your own skills as a tutor, but had you ever been this excited for someone?

“Hey, we should celebrate.” Yuuji stuffed the exam back into his bag. “Do you wanna-”

“Can you guys quiet down?” a guy with four crushed energy drink cans and food wrappers laying haphazardly around him asked. “I can’t focus and I just wanna go home, dude.”

“Sorry,” you whispered as warmth crept up your neck, turning Yuuji toward the exit as he stared at the guy in amazement. “We’ll leave you alone.”

“How long have you been here?” Yuuji asked in awe.

“Twenty-five… No, maybe eight...” The guy narrowed his eyes at the clock. “Time’s an illusion man.”

Yuuji nodded, impressed, shooting the guy a thumbs up as you pushed him toward the doors. Once in the stairwell you shot him a bright smile, “celebrate?”

He nodded excitedly. “We can get coffee!”

You turned away quickly to cover your panic, “or maybe anything else?”

Yuuji hummed, “I guess change can be nice.”

Your heart did a bizarre skip at the soft look in his eyes and you hurriedly started down the stairs without him. You spent more time that morning brushing off each reaction to Yuuji than enjoying your time with him. When everything was done you started thinking that you were having a hard time kidding even yourself.

**************

You and Yuuji had been working in silence for the past twenty minutes-the longest he’d gone without needing help since he’d signed up for tutoring. It was a great sign that for some reason had your stomach knotting uncomfortably.

“You’re doing really good,” you complimented, admiring the delighted smile he gave you.

“Yeah, I used what you said about note taking for lecture.” He showed you his notes that were beyond chaotic, but apparently worked for him. “I actually understand what’s going on now.”

“That’s great,” you looked down at your Chem problems and attempted to keep your tone light. “You probably won’t need tutoring soon if this-.”

You heard his pencil snap and looked up to find him staring holes through his paper. He seemed tense as he pressed his pencil roughly against the notebook and you wondered what word problem would’ve caused that reaction.

“Are you stuck? Do you want me to-”

“I like you.”

You paused mid-reach for his textbook and locked eyes with him, his cheeks flaring up a dark pink. You opened and closed your mouth several times before mumbling out a weak, “what?”

“And I don’t want you to tutor me,” he looked frustrated with himself when you tilted your head at his contradictory statements. “I mean, I do, but not always. I just want to spend time with you and not talk about Stats because I hate Stats, but I really like you.”

That weird feeling was back. The one where your chest felt tight and your heart was beating too quickly and your stomach sort of felt like you might throw up, but all in a good way and that made everything weirder. It was a lot and not enough and that made you nervous.

“I don’t know, Yuuji.” You lied.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No pressure. I just sprung it on you, so I don’t blame you.”

You nodded, watching him dig around his bag for a second pencil while grumbling about organizing that you knew would never happen. Your heart ached in your chest as you watched him continue working casually, playing off whatever happened.

...but you weren’t sure you could do the same.

************

This was a terrible idea.

You swung your legs, perched atop a railing across from a building that Yuuji was currently taking his midterm. It didn’t matter how you got that information-accessing his schedule with the few perks your job gave you-all that mattered was you had five minutes to figure out what you were going to say to him.

This wouldn’t even be an issue if he hadn’t skipped tutoring a few days ago. You weren’t sure if he thought you hated him or if he was regretting confessing to you, but either way you needed to talk to him before your window closed.

If only any of the speeches you could think of weren’t absolutely humiliating. Three minutes now? That should be enough time for you to at least get the beginning-

“(Y/N)?”

Your head whipped to the side so fast you're sure you got whiplash, dumbfounded that Yuuji was standing there with his head cocked to the side.

“You finished early,” you said, face warming at his growing confusion. “Not that I would know that.”

“Right.” He gave you a once-over. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Uh,” your nose crinkled while searching for a reasonable excuse. You sighed when you came up empty. “You skipped tutoring.”

Yuuji’s eyebrow rose and he waved his hands around. “I accidentally slept through it.” Then you noticed the gears started turning in his head and you began shrinking in on yourself. “You came here because I skipped a lesson?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to keep skipping,” you avoided his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “It’s a bad habit.”

He knew you were full of shit. You could tell by the way he was forcing down a smirk when you stared at your feet. This would obviously be going so much better if you had those three minutes to prepare.

“Thanks for checking in,” he smiled, fishing around in his pocket and holding out his phone. “We should probably exchange numbers so you don’t have to go through all this trouble next time.”

You eyed the phone and rolled your eyes, “makes sense.”

He looked overjoyed when you took it from his hands. Your heart felt like it would pound out of your rib cage while he watched you create your contact, your fingers shaking slightly under the pressure.

“As an apology, I should probably take you to get food too.”

You paused, looking up at his hopeful gaze before nodding shyly. “That seems fair.”

The smile that overtook his face was probably the largest you’d ever seen and your heart nearly exploded when he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the building. You probably should have seen this coming the moment you began looking forward to your morning shifts with him. As he dragged you down the street you found yourself not caring where he took you-you knew you’d be happy as long as he was with you.

[justasillybear]

Thirteen Cokes

There’s a Soda machine in Percy's dorm. Right next to the vending machine. That’s it. There’s nothing special about it. Just a standard soda machine, that normally Percy would only take notice of if he were feeling thirsty.

What makes this particular soda machine stand out isn’t the machine itself, so much as the guy sitting next to it. He’s just sat there, surrounded by a circle of Diet Coke bottles and looking pretty dejected about that fact. Percy is almost afraid to approach, just in case he’s some kind of Diet Coke demon one of the freshmen summoned.

The guy is staring at the ground, and all Percy can really see of him is the way his hands are buried in his sandy blond hair. His muscular frame was nearly folded over between his knees. He doesn’t seem aware of Percy’s staring, so he feels safe to continue watching.

There are thirteen bottles of Diet Coke.

Percy mentally added another tally in the ‘Diet Coke Demon’ Column.

Were Diet Coke demons a thing? It didn’t seem likely, but Percy wasn’t completely sure why anyone else would be sat in a circle of disappointing soda on a Tuesday night at … 11pm.

Maybe the guy was having a party? It would probably have been smarter to just buy a big bottle. And actually take the drinks back to his room. Oh well, it wasn’t Percy’s problem. Whatever IT was…

He expects the noise of the vending machine to alert the guy to his presence, and it does – he startles out of his circle of shame with a jerk, knocking over a few of the bottles. Not trapped then.

The guy glances over to where Percy is standing, eyes wide like a deer in headlights, face flushing like Percy had caught him doing something wrong.

Percy stares back, though his stare definitely has more to do with how fucking blue this guy’s eyes are. Also maybe a little to do with how attractive he was in general, looking a couple of years older than Percy and all golden and tanned. Of all the things he’d expected he hadn’t planned for the Diet Coke Demon to look like he’d walked straight out of a photoshoot. Plus, he even had a scar. Percy was always weak to those.

It’s the guy that breaks eye contact first. Visibly uncomfortable he starts collecting his bottles and Percy wonders if he should say something. Percy would later claim that it was the guy's discomfort that had made him speak up, but in truth, his decision was made for him by flushed cheeks and the guy’s blond hair sitting in disarray in the best possible way from where he’d been gripping it.

“Diet coke fan?” Percy asks with an easy grin, a packet of blue laces held in one hand, and the guy freezes, looking down at the bottles around him as if he’s just now realising how many bottles there were.

“Oh. Yeah… Kind of.” The guy mutters, and Percy finds he has to hold onto the vending machine to keep himself from swooning.

Percy tries to figure out a way to make the conversation last longer, but his brain refuses to provide any useful conversational prompts around Diet Coke – seriously, of all things? He doesn’t really think about soda that much, apparent from when he was little and decided to make everything he drank blue.

“I don’t really drink a lot of it myself. But you’re making me think I’m missing out on something.” Percy says, hoping his grin comes across as just the right level of flirty. Either the flirting hits its mark, or his timing is spot on, but the guy nearly fumbles a few of the bottles in his hands.

Percy is honestly impressed that he’s somehow managing to hold all thirteen bottles.

“It's the best.” The guy defends, and Percy realises with some disappointment that unless he can do something, the conversation is going to end there. It’s not like he can offer to help the guy carry them back to his room with them all being held snuggly in his unfairly toned arms.

“I guess I should give it a shot then?” Percy fumbles in his pocket, grateful that he hadn’t used up all his change. That would have been embarrassing.

The guy stills in surprise again, and Percy finds he likes how easily he can affect him – it’s not often that people who look like the guy does pay attention to him.

He stands there as Percy feeds his change into the machine, and Percy fights the urge to do it as slowly as possible. It’s only when the bottle tumbles down and Percy pulls it out, that he notices that the wrapper doesn’t just say ‘Coke’ on it.

“Share a Diet Coke with Luke”.

“What?” the guy exclaims, incredulously as Percy twists the bottle to show him. “Are you fucking with me?”

“Uh no… Why? Percy says. “Hey which ones did you get?” he wonders if there’d be one with his name on it in the machine. Probably not – Perseus wasn’t exactly a common name.

“Every stupid name but that one.” The guy laments, and Percy tries not to enjoy how his frustration makes his voice sound deeper.

“Wait there are only 13 other names in the world? I think someone forgot to tell my mum that” Percy muses, to which the guy sends him a completely unamused glare. Coupled with the scar it’s an impressively intimidating sight.

Huh, was he attracted to this? That’s new.

Shaking his head Percy tried to figure out how their conversation had taken its sudden sour turn. Was the guy trying to collect all of the names or something? Could he only steal the souls of people’s whose names were on his Diet Coke bottles? Or-

“Wait, is your name Luke?” Percy asks, confusion melting away into amusement at the realisation. The guy doesn't answer but his cheeks colour again and he looks away, which is enough of a yes for Percy.

“Well, why don’t… It does say to share, so…” Percy holds the bottle out, and the guy looks back thrown. He was cute when he wasn’t mad… Hot when he was though.

“I’m Percy. Don’t suppose you’ve got one of those in your stash?”

“No. And I can’t take this – it’s yours.” The guy insists.

“Really? Cos I’m pretty sure it has your name on it…” Percy shoots him a teasing wink, causing the guy to sigh. Percy can see a small smile tugging at his lips, however, so he’s going to count it as a win.

“Yeah..” he admits.

“Then you should have it”. Percy holds out the bottle, shaking it back and forth. The guy, no wait – Luke- stares down at it.

“My arms are a little full”. Luke reminds him, and Percy finds himself laughing.

“Right. Guess I’ll have to help you out then. Percy tilts his head up flirtatiously, and Luke glances away.

“Lead the way, Luke”. He says, raising an eyebrow expectantly.

“Do you need any help with the rest of those” Percy asks, feeling a little rude for not offering earlier.

“Nah. I think if even one of these moves, the whole pile will go.” Luke answers, and … Fair point. Percy can’t argue with his logic.

“You sure you don’t have a Percy in there?”

Luke’s lips quirk up again into a small smile, and Percy has to fight the urge to lean over and coax it into something bigger. He can’t help but wonder how Luke would look smiling.

“Nope,” Luke answers “I do have a Poppy, though.”

“Well, guess I’ll be Poppy tonight then."

If nothing else, Percy gets to learn how Luke looks when he laughs.

[calpops]

missing pieces | c.h.

A big family gathering before Christmas leaves you contemplating the missing pieces in your life. The people who matter most help you through it.

2k words

Day 10 of 12 dates with calmas | dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

❅ ❅ ❅

Everyone is gathered around the table. Calum’s parents, Mali, Ashton, Luke, Michael and their respective partners. Mila sits in her reclined high chair right next to you and Calum; she’s still too small for a proper high chair and too young for solid food. But everyone loves her company at the table and fawns over her without faltering. Calum reaches for your hand while he keeps one on Mila, the near six month old entertained by her dad’s little tickles and boops on the nose. There’s a happiness inside of you as you take in all of the guests for your Christmas celebration. But as you keep looking around a hollow wound begins to open and ache again. Not everyone is here. You bite your lip and bite back emotions threatening to bubble over. You don’t want to ruin the evening.

“I can’t believe how big she’s gotten,” Calum’s mother coos from across the table.

Both you and Calum don’t see her as growing. You still see the baby fighting for life in an incubator, your daughter that could fit in one hand. You know she must be growing, getting stronger and smarter and more adept to the world around her. But you don’t see it yet. The changes are so gradual that when you’re with her everyday they slip past your eyes.

“She’s still my little girl,” Luke says and everyone shoots him a look.

“No, she’s my little girl,” Calum corrects around a laugh and shaking head. “Someone needs to get you your own baby before you try to take mine.”

Luke blushes but not in the humbleness of trying to claim Mila. He shrugs and waves a hand through the air to downplay Calum’s suggestion.

“If she’s anybody’s…” Mali says and trails off to look at you with a smile.

That warms your heart though you know it’s only half true. As much as Mila is yours she’s Calum’s too. You both love her with all of your hearts and as far as you can tell she loves you both equally. If she’s not with both of you she’s with one or the other. Calum pulled her first laugh from her but he often reminds you she first smiled at the mention and sight of you. Everyone simmers back into Christmas conversation, asking about presents for Mila and plans for the big day. Calum goes nonchalant and you catch the forced casualty but don’t question it; so much else is already on your mind.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” Calum asks in a whisper pressed to your ear.

You nod, downplaying the fact that you’re not sure about that answer. It amazes you he can pick up on the subtleties in your mood even when you try to mask it with all of your might. You steel yourself, try to shake away the crushing feeling pressing down on you at two empty chairs. You squeeze Calum’s hand and quietly stand to get Mila in your arms.

“I’m gonna go feed her,” you explain and gently take her to you and quietly disappear down the hallway.

Calum sits back in his chair and quietly muses over what to do. He thinks he knows what’s going on, eyes trailing to the same two chairs that were once in your sights. He knows you have Mila and wonders if maybe you want space from the event around you or space from everyone.

“Everything alright?” Ashton asks, his seat diagonal to Calum’s, his ability to pick up on his best friend’s distress a natural talent.

“I’m not sure,” Calum answers honestly and stands to excuse himself and go figure it out. “I’ll be back.”

He roams down the hall quietly but quickly. The door to the nursery is open and the room is empty. He moves past it to your bedroom door that stands shut. He doesn’t hear anything and while it would normally be a sign of relief a little tremble of anxiety slices through him. Usually you’d be murmuring to Mila, giggling with her or if she wasn’t hungry already back out to join the dinner. He taps his knuckles softly against the door and calls out to you to announce that he’s entering.

He stops short as soon as the door is open. You have Mila in your arms but you’re not feeding her. You’re sat on the edge of the bed cradling her against your chest, rocking slightly back and forth as silent tears fall down your face. Calum can feel his heart shatter at the sight and moves on instinct to the two of you. You look up and meet his gaze but don’t say a word, both of you communicating silently; always knowing what’s on the other's mind and in their heart and worries. Calum gently coaxes Mila from your arms to put her in her bassinet by the bed. She seems mostly unbothered, not able to understand anything but the comfort of your arms. She stirs a little bit as she settles in but is okay enough for Calum to seek you out and offer his arms for you to fall into.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asks as he wraps you up in his hold and runs a soothing hand down your back.

“Yes, no, I don’t know,” you answer in a shaking voice. “I just feel so stupid. I should know better by now.”

Calum shakes his head at your words and the fact you genuinely feel that way. It wrenches at him. He knows exactly what you’re talking about and though he wants to defend you to the bottom of the ocean and back he wants you to come to some realizations on your own as well.

“They should do better,” Calum simply mumbles and runs his hands through your hair. He hopes you understand what he means. The struggle you’ve had with your parents being life long. You deserve better than empty promises and last minute cancellations.

“I thought maybe with Christmas and Mila it might be different, I thought they might try a little harder,” you finally manage to get out after a moment of prolonged silence. “It’s okay for them to cancel on me. I’m used to it. Mila deserves more. They haven’t even met her yet.”

Calum can hear the heart break in your words. He knows how heavily their absence in Mila’s life has hung over you. He sees the way you look at his parents interactions with Mila and the way you wish your parents would do the same. So many times you’ve tried to reach out to them and so many times they’ve let you down. He always reminds you that you have him and Mila and his parents and Mali and the guys as family but he understands it’s not quite the same and that a little hollow piece of you still yearns for your parents approval and care.

“You deserve better too,” Calum says and hopes you’ll believe it.

“It stopped bothering me for a while, I accepted they didn’t want to put in effort for me,” you explain around a few sniffles, face firmly planted against Calum’s chest as rogue tears stain his shirt. “It was pretty clear when they didn’t show up to meet you or to our wedding. I thought I was over it. Then we had Mila and almost lost her and it’s like they didn’t even care. Now it’s Christmas and they still don’t care. She’s the sweetest little girl, she deserves grandparents, she deserves everything. It breaks my heart. Why don’t they care?”

Calum has no answer to the shattering question you pose and even if he did he knows nothing—no answer or explanation—will ever justify their absence. He stays silent and holds you. Rocks back and forth with you in his arms almost like you both do with Mila. He can feel with every little motion that you’re trying to pull yourself together but he’s always been the place that you can fall apart. He doesn’t coax you to do anything. Just stays with you, becomes a presence to help fill the void.

“Sweetheart,” he finally mumbles after minutes of quiet. He feels your clutch on him tighten as you slightly shift to meet his gaze. His fingers lightly settle under your chin to keep you with him. “She doesn’t need them. They don’t deserve her or you.”

“What?” you mumble out the one worded question; clearly hearing the words but unable to grasp them fully.

“She doesn’t need them, she has me and you. You give her more love than imaginable,” Calum explains and you nod to show you understand. He lets out a breath and so do you though it shakes. “If they don’t care to try they don’t deserve to have you keep trying. You’re too good for them. So is Mila, look at her,” Calum explains further and coaxes you to raise your head and find your reason for everything. Mila smiles when you meet eyes with her and it’s enough to convince you of Calum’s words.

“I just feel bad she’ll grow up missing part of her family,” you finally admit and maybe it’s more or less about her and you.

“With all of those people out there who love her, she’ll never miss a thing,” Calum says and grins to himself as a thought enters his mind. “And I mean, Luke did walk you down the aisle so that kinda makes him her pseudo grandpa?”

You erupt into laughter and shake your head no. “Don’t even joke about that with him. He’s already vying for favorite uncle. We don’t need him fighting your dad to be the favorite grandfather.”

Calum purses his lips as he contemplates the very real possibility of that before laughing with you. He wipes away remnants of tears on your face and gives you another moment to collect yourself. Once he finds that you’re back together he gives you a little nuzzle. “Ready to get back out there?”

You nod and stand. Mila lights up and lets out a little noise as you bring her back into your arms. You keep her close and Calum stays by your side as you head back out to the dining room where your family waits. They all greet you warmly but don’t comment on or question your disappearance. You keep Mila in your hold instead of putting her back in her high chair. Small talk resumes and eventually Ashton proposes a toast.

“To a good holiday season,” he finishes.

“And to family,” you pitch in and make everyone agree. Glasses clink. “Thanks for being here with us.”

Everyone agrees with the sentiment and says there’s nowhere else they’d rather be. In that moment, gathered with those who love and care for you and your daughter, it’s easy to let go of those who don’t and to appreciate all that you have. When one of Calum’s hands grabs for yours and the other gently holds Mila’s you’re also sure there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

—

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[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke & Mirrors - part 2

Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: What kind of man

(see chapter 1)

summary: the matchmaking trio changes their strategy, and you end up on a sparring mat with Neil

warnings: language and other explicit things, 18+ and I MEAN IT

author’s note:  ...you know what? I don’t want to take any responsibility for where this chapter ended up going. Those characters have mind of their own and at this point I can just write it down and try not to die on the way. (I know it’s far from what we’ve discussed A, but it’s best I could do with what these two had given me, promise to do better next time)

The song for this chapter is Florence + The Machine - “What kind of man”  (changed from “Undisclosed desires”, don’t ask me, I don’t know either)

Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think, please?

___

“...and you really think this is a good idea?” 

“It sure beats yours,” said Ives and took a sip from his cup.

TP huffed and smacked his arm. “Hey, I thought it was our idea!”

“What matters is,” - Wheeler chimed in, fighting a losing battle to hide the annoyance in her voice - “it was a terrible one, and we have to do better if you want them to not get each other killed on the field.”

Ives pondered for a while. When he looked at Wheeler, his eyes were full of concern. “Honestly? This sounds like a recipe for someone getting hurt.”

She kept forgetting how protective he could be over his friend. Although this time, she thought, the one at risk was definitely Neil. 

Wheeler smiled reassuringly. “Trust me, it’s gonna work.”

_________________

There was a certain peace in the emptiness of the HQ’s shooting range in the early morning. It always helped you clear your head - there was no place for emotions while you were holding a gun. And you always knew when to come there to be alone. 

At least up until today.

Just as you finished your routine and grabbed your bag, the door opened and you were greeted by the smirk from under the messy blonde mane. 

Bloody perfect.

A week had passed since the bar encounter, seven long days filled with Neil’s tiresome presence during your work time. If it wasn’t a merged mission of your squads, there were training sessions. The shooting range was your last place free from the walking reminder of your recent failure. 

Not anymore, apparently. 

“Going out already? Too bad, I was hoping to get some tips from you.”

“Aim and pull the trigger. Repeat. It’s really that simple,” you said, shrugging.

The blue eyes narrowed behind yellow-tinted lenses of the safety glasses as Neil sent a forced smile your way. “Never would have guessed,” he deadpanned.

You passed by him, not willing to allow him to get under your skin. But then, just as you were about to exit the room, you stopped and cursed internally at yourself. Closing the door and turning around, you placed your bag quietly on the ground and leaned back against the wall. With your arms crossed, you watched Neil as he prepared his pistol and started the practice. 

You studied his posture, the way he held the gun in his gloved hands, trying to find any weak points in his technical side. There wasn’t too much to improve, his problem with shooting during the missions must have been elsewhere. You briefly glanced over the rolled sleeves of his navy blue shirt and the way his jaw tightened when he checked the target to grade his accuracy. 

“Look at that, you actually can hit a target,” you said and the corner of your lips twitched. “An easy one and not quite lethally but still, I’d call that a progress.”

Neil scoffed and glared at you over the shoulder. “I thought you were done for today.”

The subtle hints of frustration rang in his voice, catching you by surprise. You didn’t know why, but all of the sudden, the satisfaction you felt had a bitter aftertaste. 

You eyed him carefully before speaking again, this time easing up on the mocking tone. Just a bit. “Maybe you just need to train in a more stressful environment.”

A sardonic smile tainted Neil’s lips as he focused on the target again. 

“Keep talking then.”

You snorted, shaking your head as you left the shooting range. 

Fucking hell, he was just infuriating.

_________________

You stared at the bulletin board in disbelief. The new training lineup added one-on-one sparring sessions, and your name was all the way at the bottom of the list, which only meant more late evenings at the headquarters. And as for the choice of your sparring partner-...

With the corner of your eye, you spotted a familiar figure, trying to sneak by you unnoticed. You turned around quickly. “Ives, why do you guys hate me so much?”

He sighed slowly and patted you on the arm. “It’s nothing personal,” he said, his voice almost sincere. But you knew better, and after the crap they’d pulled on you last time, you had every right to be suspicious. 

“You could have picked anyone else for him,” you complained, quite desperate to try anything to avoid spending more time with that blonde pain in the ass.

“I didn’t pick shit,” Ives scoffed. “Besides, it’s just the combat practice, the usual training rotation stays the same.”

“And it’s a coincidence-”

“It’s not,” TP’s voice rang from behind you. “It’s the result of your recent evaluation.”

You stifled a curse. 

_________________

Neil’s brows furrowed in fake concern while he looked you up and down as you kicked off your shoes and stepped on the mat. The fact that you accidentally matched your black tank top and shorts to his black t-shirt and sweatpants didn’t get lost on him.

“What’s with the frown, sweetheart?” he teased. “I thought you might enjoy it, I saw the way you look at me.”

You smacked your lips as you began to stretch your arms and sneered, “Good, so you know how much I want to punch your stupid face.”

Neil kept his features casual, but the taunting sparks in his eyes were saying plenty. 

“I can’t wait to see you try.”

You started circling each other slowly. After seeing him in combat, you knew that you were in his domain. You tapped into all your bottled anger to cover the lack of confidence you suddenly felt in his calm presence. 

“Ground rules?” you asked, putting your guard up.

Neil’s shoulders raised in a slight shrug as he mirrored your pose nonchalantly. 

“Just show me what you got.”

And that’s what you did. 

You always considered your close combat skills adequate. Good enough to let you get out of most of the situations you’d found yourselves into during missions. But after yet another blocked hit, you weren’t so sure about that anymore. 

Meanwhile, Neil was clearly having fun watching you struggle to break through his defense. “You don’t like hand-to-hand combat,” he rather stated the fact than asked as he dodged under swing aimed for his head and lunged forward, tapping your right side to mark the exposed area. 

“If you’re that close, it means I’ve failed to shoot you,” huffing in frustration, you spun around and kicked, missing him just barely. Neil didn’t give you too much time to regain your balance, making you jump out of the way of his flying knee. He flitted around you and grabbed your wrist, twisting it quickly and pressing it to your back, quickly adding your other one there before you could do anything about it. 

“You never let anyone near you, huh?”

A cold shiver ran down your spine as you tried to wriggle your way out. Neil was definitely too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively. “You’re not my therapist, blondie,” you uttered through gritted teeth, taking a sudden step back right into his arms, a change of direction finally allowing you to escape his grasp.

“Thank god, because I feel sorry for them already,” Neil laughed dryly. His eyes narrowed as he watched your mouth open in disbelief at his remark and a shit-eating grin crept on his face. 

You don’t know what pissed you off more - the fact that he was bent on driving you mad, or the sudden realization that the fucker was clearly holding back. It didn’t matter that you were struggling enough with the moderate effort from his side; to you, it was an insult worse than the comment. 

You brushed a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead. “Aren’t you tired?” you snarled, shifting your balance back and forth. The question was vague enough, but from the way his expression changed, you knew he got the hint. The predatory flare in his eyes made the heart race in your chest. 

Neil sprung at you, faking a misstep on the way to throw you off balance. Your senses sharpened enough to predict his next move and you were there to deflect a lightning-quick hit to your abdomen. You returned with a strike at his side but to no luck. Neil ducked under your elbow and closed in on you, giving himself enough momentum to knock you down and pin you to the mat.

The self-satisfied stare just a few inches from your face was making the blood boil in your veins. Cursing internally at both his reach and flexibility, you squirmed under Neil and that only made him press his forearm to your chest even harder, a roguish smile tainting his lips. “See, there’s one thing you need to learn. You need to work smarter, not harder.”

An outraged cry built in your throat as you clenched your hands on his arms, trying to gain any leverage in your position. You glared into the blue eyes, the nauseating hate burning in every cell of your body.

Neil raised an eyebrow and grinned. “Oh no, did I hit a nerve?”

You let out a frustrated groan. Of course, that son of a bitch hit a fucking bullseye. And to make matters worse - he had a point, too. 

Neil spotted a change in your expression a second too late. You swiftly moved your hands and sneaked them under his t-shirt, sliding them up his stomach. His eyes widened as he gasped, reducing the pressure on your chest. That gave you enough room to maneuver, rolling him off you and pinning him with his wrists above his head. 

With your faces again just inches away from each other, both of you panted heavily; a part of you enjoyed Neil’s amused gaze, his mouth slightly open as he tried to level his breath. And then - 

“Good girl. Just like that.”

...fuck.

You didn’t know what exactly made your brain short-circuit. Was it the hoarse voice combined with the praise? The way the blue eyes suddenly got darker? Or both together?

And you didn’t even know how you found yourself underneath Neil again, flipped on your stomach, your hands behind your back. With one cheek pressed against the cold mat, you shivered at the sudden warmth of his uneven breath on your neck. 

A throaty chuckle made your heart skip a bit. “Two can play the game, darling,” he purred as his lips brushed against your ear. 

Your mind went blank again. 

Somehow, you made your way back to the shared locker room.

You leaned your back against the wall, crossing your arms. The tension between the two of you was almost volatile, elevating your heartbeat with every second passed and every step Neil made your way. 

“You’re insufferable.”

You grinned slyly as your eyes flared up. 

“The feeling is mutual, blondie.”

The way his gaze got even darker made your breath hitch. The burning sensation inside of you was something more than hatred now, not caring if you were ready to admit it or not.

He smacked his tongue, a vicious smile dangled in the corner of his lips. 

“You really should stop calling me that.”

The hidden threat in his tone made your mouth dry. You raised a brow and held your breath. 

“Or?”

He closed in on you and grabbed your chin harshly.

“Or I’ll make you.” 

You flashed your teeth and taunted him again. 

“Can’t wait to see you try.”

Neil hummed and moved a pad of his thumb against your lips, making you gasp breathlessly and lose all the resolve you had left. A dry chuckle in response to your expression was enough to haze your mind. You tilted your head as Neil leaned in, drawing his attention just where you wanted him. It took all your willpower not to sigh when he sucked at the skin just below your ear and your fingers raked through blonde hair, pulling Neil even closer. 

His hands roamed your body hungrily while his mouth moved down your neck. When you felt his fingers going up your thigh, you tugged at his t-shirt, and as they moved even higher, your hips bucked involuntarily, so eager to feel him where you needed him the most.

A sharp chuckle against your collarbone as he palmed over the almost completely soaked-through fabric of your shorts sent a bolt of pleasure through your every nerve. You could feel your core pulsing even harder as his long fingers rubbed you just right.

Your hand flew back up and yanked at his hair, making him look at you just before you trailed his jawline with your mouth. Neil groaned and a laugh rattled in your chest. 

You reached for his waistband, but he was faster. Next thing you knew, your shorts and panties were gone and Neil lifted you and pinned you to the wall. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he slid his arm around your lower back. You nearly cried out when he thrust into you mercilessly; instead, you dug your nails into his back and sank your teeth in your bottom lip. As Neil picked up the pace, you clung to him for dear life. The heat radiating from his body carried the musky smell mixed with the almost fade-out scent of his cologne, the combination so intoxicating it made you lightheaded. You felt yourself tighten around him as he ground into you relentlessly, and pathetic whine escaped your mouth. Hearing that, Neil slowed down, almost stopping and you groaned in frustration when you realized what he was doing. 

“I hate you,” you uttered through gritted teeth, panting heavily, rolling your hips, longing for the friction that son of a bitch was purposely denying you.

Neil pulled back enough so you could see the roguish sparks in his eyes accompanied by a mischievous grin. 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he teased, his voice low and raspy.

You huffed, outraged by the audacity and he laughed, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he picked up where he’d left off. The fire he’d just fueled blazed in your veins, your heart raced in your chest and you felt yourself climbing the peak again. Wrapping your arms around him and pulling yourself closer, you frantically gasped for air and squeezed your eyes shut as you came undone with a loud moan, the pleasure hitting every fiber of your body in violent shockwaves. That was enough to send Neil over the edge, a deep groan escaping his mouth as he came into you, tightening his grasp on you almost painfully. 

At that moment, you were nothing but a trembling mess in his arms. Coming down, you pressed your forehead to his, enjoying the way your breaths intertwined. 

When both of you regained your senses, you pushed him away and picked up your clothes. As you were both decent enough, you glared at Neil.

“This changes nothing,” you said. 

The self-satisfied look in his eyes made you realize your mistake. 

No nickname. 

You cursed internally, but it was already too late. He’d had it his way, in the end. 

Neil’s lips curled in a half-smile.

“How tragic.”

(next chapter ->)

[c4pricornc4ts]

Where’d The Hours go? - DadSchlatt College Au Chapter 1

Read it on ao3 here 

“Sir, a toddler is a lot to take on. Not to mention he’s going to need even more care to help him recover from two years in a bad home. You should consider taking a day to think it over.”

“He’s my kid, just tell me what to do or sign. Please.” The back of his head collides with the wall and he closes his eyes. He has to at least try.

---------------------

Or; Schlatt finds out he has a two year old son, and Quackity is about to win friend of the year.

Schlatt had always been a bit of a mess. He went to messy parties with even messier people. Specifically the group he filmed videos with, the self-appointed ‘Lunch-Club.’ He didn’t mind being a mess, not knowing what he did the night before, waking up in someone else’s room, he never really cared.

So here he is for what feels like the hundredth time, drunk and strung across his friend Charlie’s weird tree pillow. Laughing harder than he should at another one of Charlie’s bad puns.

They’re playing a game of jackbox and Schlatt can no longer keep the words in focus long enough to read. He ends up just typing in something random and lying down.

His turn comes around and everyone shoots him a concerned look when they see his submission. Ted nudges his shoulder.

“Schlatt what the hell does SRHBF even mean?”

“Figure it out Ted, I shouldn’t have to give you all the answers.” He pauses to think and everyone stifles a laugh but waits patiently to hear what else Schlatt is gonna say. “You’re smart, not smarter than me… but smart.”

“Smart enough to know Stal is a good music disc.”

“You take that back.” He goes to get up, his hand sliding across the floor. It’s harder to stand than it should be.

“Or what?” Ted gets up and crosses his arms, standing over Schlatt who’s still kneeling on the floor.

“I-I’ll fight you.” He reaches his arm out to try and push himself off the floor and sighs when he can’t do it. “Later. Is it always hard to stand? How are you doing it so easy? Is it the glass?” He reaches his hand up and grabs Ted’s glasses.

Charlie gets up off the couch next and takes Ted’s glasses from Schlatt. “Alright grandpa let’s get you to bed.”

Charlie helps Schlatt stand up and Ted puts his glasses back on and grabs his other arm.

“I’m not that old, I can-” He jerks his arm out of Charlie’s grasp. “I can walk.”

The shorter throws up his arms in mock defense and rolls his eyes, but stays close incase Schlatt does fall.

He manages to stay upright the whole two block walk to his apartment. Though he leans heavily on Ted. He’s laughing at the way his breath clouds in the cold but stops when they start dragging him up the stairs. Schlatt hates living on the fourth story.

He loses his grip on the rail. “Charlie, Charles slow down I can’t- oh fuck.” He falls up the stairs.

Charlie realizes Schlatt is no longer behind him and hurries back to him, Ted just laughs from the top of the staircase. Doubled over while Schlatt glares at him.

“I hope you remember all this in the morning.”

He gets up with the help of Charlie and the rail before stumbling past Ted to shakily grab his keys out of his pocket to unlock the apartment door. Practically falling against it as it swung open.

He breathes out a sigh of relief, happy to finally be home. Smiling, he turns to the pair. “Same thing tomorrow night? I’ll bring… something, probably.”

“You won’t ever want to do that again when you feel the migraine from it tomorrow.” Ted laughs.

“Bull. Shit.”

Ted closes his door for him and Charlie hurriedly tells him to “Put a painkiller and some water by your bed! Sober you will be grateful!”

His friends can be a lot, but sometimes they give good advice. It’s usually a good idea to take Charlie’s advice, so he opens the cabinet for a cup.

He opens the fridge and pulls out the container of filtered water and, with minimal spill, pours himself a glass.

He wants to turn off the kitchen lights but with the way the wall was moving he wasn’t sure he should bother. Instead just opting to go to bed, throwing his jeans and shirt on the floor and practically falling on the twin bed he had stowed in the corner.

He finally gets comfortable when his phone rings from his jean pocket on the floor. Assuming it's just a spam call or Quackity wanting to do a late night stream, he leaves it to ring.

The problem is once the ringing finally stops, it starts again. Whoever this was must really need him.

So he gets up reluctantly and uncovers his phone from the pile on the floor. Answering it without even checking the ID. Which is never a good decision. “Mm’ hello?”

“Hi, this is the department of social services calling. Is this Mr. J. Schlatt?”

“Yeah that’s- uh me.” He drags his hand down his face in embarrassment. He really wasn’t in a good place to have a professional call right now.

“I’m sorry to call this late but we have custody of your toddler son, Tubbo Miller.”

“You got the wrong number, I don’t have any kids.” He sits on the edge of his bed, feeling nauseous.

“It’s your name in his files, and this is the number the mother gave us for you. I’m sorry if this is a bit of a shock but we need you to make a decision. Tubbo’s mother, Amy Miller can no longer maintain custody of the child due to severe negligence.”

He hasn’t heard from Amy in years. Not since they woke up in the same bed. Schlatt mumbles out a quick, “Hold on.” before going to vomit everything that could have possibly been in his stomach. Thankful the phone had a mute button.

He’s coughing and wiping his mouth with a washcloth when he unmutes himself. Choosing to stay on the cold bathroom floor for the rest of the phone call. And maybe the night. “I- I yeah we- he’s my kid. I just didn’t know he was… born?”

“Then this is probably quite a shock to you.”

“Probably?”

“Let me tell you your options; we can put him in the system, until someone can adopt him. Or I can come over and we can discuss you getting custody. Neither of these choices make you a bad parent, and you don’t have to decide right now-”

“Are you fuckin’ kidding? I’m his, he’s my boy. I want custody, just tell me what I need to do.” He feels rude for interrupting her, since she sounds so nice over the phone.

“Sir, a toddler is a lot to take on. Not to mention he’s going to need even more care to help him recover from two years in a bad home. You should consider taking a day to think it over.”

“He’s my kid, just tell me what to do or sign. Please.” The back of his head collides with the wall and he closes his eyes. He has to at least try.

“I’ll come over in two days for a house inspection then. I’d advise you get supplies and start baby proofing the house till then. And don’t worry, most people in your situation do end up with custody”

“I can do that. Thanks.”

He can hear sniffling in the background, the lady’s voice getting further away as she shushes what Schlatt can only assume is Tubbo gently. “I’ll send you a text confirming everything in the morning. Get some rest while you can, toddlers won’t let you.”

He laughs weakly, trying not to throw up again as he hangs up the phone and goes through his contacts to call Quackity. Though the younger played a loud and chaotic persona, he gave surprisingly good advice. And that’s what Schlatt needed right now.

Thankfully he isn’t streaming when he answers, as Schlatt doesn’t need the whole world knowing he has a kid when he hasn’t had time to process it himself.

“What type of shit do babies need?”

There’s a pause on the other side of the line, Schlatt holds the phone far away from him and waits.

“WHAT?” Quackity shouts, his voice breaking up through the phone.

“Apparently I’m a fuckin’ dad now, what type of shit do babies need?” He knows he should elaborate more but he's exhausted at this point.

“It’s way too late for this. I’ll be there in the morning, and you better explain yourself, Schlatt.”

“Let yourself in, keys are under the mat.”

“Spare no detail, I gotta know exactly how big Schlatt has a little kid.”

With that Schlatt laughs and hangs up without saying goodbye. Quackity never cared if he hung up abruptly.

He passes out on the bathroom floor, not even bothering to turn off the light.

[rudypankwow]

can we be friends? | jj maybank

not my gif! (posted by @rudypankows​)

inspired by (can we be friends?) by conan gray, in which you fall in love with your best friend

requested: nooo i should do those though

warnings: swearing?

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a/n: this kinda became a 4+1 kinda think but like it’s fine. it’s still cute and i like it. i might do a part two but i’m not sure?

could you be my best friend? let's hang out every weekend go driving every night stare at people that we like

jj didn’t have a car, but you did.

“hey, wanna go for a ride?” you said to him over the phone. code for “my parents are yelling and i need to get out of the house.”

“of course, i do,” he says. you can hear the smile in his voice.

“okay, meet me in ten minutes.”

you’d lived in the house next door your entire life. when you were little, you used to hide in the bushes between your houses, ignoring the calls from mean parents for hours. you were there when his mom left, when his dad got bad, when john b disappeared. and he was there for all your shit.

you’re pretty sure you’ve been in love with him since you were eight, but you’d never tell him that.

you walk out your front door ten minutes later, and jj is already leaning against the car door. let’s get one thing straight, your car was shit, but it was a car. it had wheels and an engine and that was all that really mattered.

“hey, buddy,” jj says, reaching out his closed fist for you to bump with your own. it was tradition.

“sup, pal,” you say back, walking around to the driver’s side of the car door and sliding in, jj doing the same.

you never really had a destination. sometimes you guys would stop at a drive thru and get snacks or something to drink. sometimes you’d just drive around the island until the early hours of the morning. you took turns playing music, and, if you were feeling up to it, you’d occasionally let jj drive. (he was known to be a bad driver.)

you’d belt out whatever song was on the radio, and he’d grab your hand to use it as a fake microphone.

you laugh. “ugh, i don’t want to go home,” you said, glancing at the clock. two am.

“who says we have to?” jj says. “let’s stay out all night.” he laughs.

you protest, but he wins. he always wins. you’re wrapped around his finger in the best kind of way. you drive to the beach and sit there for a while, smoking and laughing and dipping your feet into the cold water. jj convinces you to let him drive after that.

you guys stay out until the wreck opens up, stopping in to grab coffees and say hi to kie. she laughs as you tell her stories from the night, the music, the beach, the cold water. and then you go home.

he calls you later that night. “wanna go for a drive?”

could you be my best friend? i'll tell you all my secrets i'll tell you all the times that i wish that i could die

even now, you sometimes hid in the bushes between your houses. you were too big to really fit now, but you guys somehow managed to squeeze, usually laying on your backs on either side of the stump.

“i just don’t understand,” you say. “how am i supposed to get off this island if we don’t even have the money to pay for the college applications? and my parents don’t care anyway.” you sigh. “i just really don’t want to get stuck here, jj.”

“i know, bud,” he says, pinching your knee, the same way he always does. “but you’re the smartest person i know,” he tells you, “even smarter than pope, but don’t tell him i said that.” you laugh. “you’re gonna figure it out.”

“i don’t know that i am,” you say. “we don’t even have hot water right now.”

the difference between jj’s dad and your parents was that yours meant well. they tried their hardest. but your dad couldn’t hold down a job and your mom didn’t have a high school diploma. you sometimes felt bad complaining, knowing what jj endures from his dad, but he always reassured you that he didn’t mind listening.

he sighs. “i have no idea how college works,” he says. “but there’s gotta be someone that does, there’s gotta be a way you can apply.”

“i don’t-”

“no,” he stops you. “you’re gonna go to college. you’re gonna get a degree. and you’re gonna move far away from here. and you’re gonna have a better life than you have now.” you nod. “and you’re gonna come back and visit me.”

it was a sore subject. you wanted to get off the island, but jj didn’t. even more so, he was convinced he couldn’t.

“no,” you say, and he looks back at you, confused, “i’m taking you with me, pal.” 

he laughs and you punch his arm. “we’ll see about that one.”

and if anybody fucks with you they fuck with me so, if anybody fucks with you i'll knock their teeth out

it was early october, you had dragged jj with you to meet pope and kie at the wreck to do some homework. you knew he wouldn’t do work, but you’d hoped if everyone around him was, he’d be somewhat inclined.

it didn’t work.

regardless, you were all sitting at a table doing work. there was a group of kook boys sitting a few tables over. none of them really stood out to you. you’d definitely seen them around, but not enough to know any of their names. they seemed relatively harmless, so you weren’t paying attention to them.

“why is he walking over here?” jj said, his eyes zeroing in on the boy making his way over to your table.

maybe you’d assumed wrong, because he was right, one of them was walking directly toward you guys. he pulled up a chair from the table next to yours, and sits directly next to you, way too close for comfort.

“hey, babe,” he says to you.

you visibly cringe. “um, hello?” you say back. “is there something i can help you with?” you move your chair away from his, closer to jj’s.

“oh there’s plenty you can help me with,” he says.

you hear jj mutter, “what the fuck?” under his breath, and you shoot him a look, stay out of it.

“okay, well, i’m kind of in the middle of something,” you say, “so maybe you can,” you pause, pretending to think, “leave me alone? and while you’re at it, never talk to me again.”

“excuse me?” he says, getting up from his chair. “who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?” he takes a step toward you.

“okay, we’re done here,” jj says from behind you, standing up. “why don’t you head back to your little friends?” he’s in his face now. you try to grab at jj’s arm and pull him back, not wanting any trouble, but he pulls away from your grasp.

“hey, you two,” kie’s dad yells from behind the counter. “go back to your tables or get out,” he says.

“next time, you’re dead,” jj says, pointing his finger at the other boy’s chest. he sulks back to his table, motioning to his friends, and they all get up and leave.

jj sits back down in his chair. “i had it under control,” you say to him.

“sure you did, bud,” he says, smiling and patting your shoulder. “but now he really knows not to mess with you.”

you roll your eyes, choosing not to bicker today, and go back to your work.

could you be my best friend? can we be friends?

and you realize you’d been in love with him since you were a little girl, since he pinched your knee as you guys hid in the bushes between your houses, hiding from scary loud parents, that you didn’t understand but didn’t want to. you’d been in love with you since he punched the boy who sat behind you in second grade for flicking your ear, since the first time he let you wear his hoodie when he was cold and the first time he slipped you a $20 to get gas for your car.

but he was your best friend, and you were torn between wanting more and not wanting to ruin what you had.

you had been acting weird. you knew it, jj knew it, kie knew it, pope knew it, people walking by on the street knew it.

“car ride, now,” jj says over the phone, you regret answering. you grunt, slipping on your shoes and grabbing your keys. he’s waiting by the door.

“hey, bud,” he says, extending his fist as always.

you tap your fist with his. “hi, pal.” you’re trying to act as normal as possible, and you’re convinced it’s not working.

you drive for a few minutes, finding comfort in the familiar songs on the radio and the sound of jj’s singing. it feels right.

“hey, pull over for a second,” jj says. you do. he reaches over and turns down the radio. “so,” he turns in his seat so that he’s facing you, “what’s going on with you lately?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you try to deflect, swallowing a lump in your throat.

“no, no,” he says, shaking his head. “(y/n), you’ve been my best friend since we were four. i know something’s wrong, i just don’t know why you don’t want to tell me.”

“you really wanna know?” he nods. “i love you,” you say, under your breath, looking down at your lap.

“okay, i love you too,” he says, clearly confused.

“no, jj,” shake your head, rubbing your face. you look up at him, your heart is pounding. “like, i’m in love with you.”

he pauses. “are you serious?” you nod. without saying another word, he grabs your face pulling you over the center console to connect his lips with yours. you melt into him, all the tension in your body disappearing. you exhale into him. he pulls away and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “i’ve wanted to do that since we were twelve.”

“hmm,” you hum, “you definitely should have.”

[walkerwords]

“The Savior Sessions” Part 14 of 33 - Negan x GN!Reader

IMAGE CREDIT: AMC (ALL OFFICIAL DIALOG FROM SERIES IS PROPERTY OF AMC)

SERIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Negan goes home, Jesus is brought home, and a whisperer is taken captive. What happens when Negan starts to see how the world is emptier without the one he cares for and how does the reader react to coming face to face with the daughter of their new enemy?

Word Count: 7103

Warning: Swearing

Song I Wrote To: "Unhinged” by Nick Jonas

Note: As I mentioned before we will be getting two different POVs for the next couple of parts, but they then will interact again soon. we need a look into their heads again and thus, we enter the war. THIS ONE IS SO LONG. We flip flop a bit, but its all for story tellin purposes. 

-------------

Alexandria was a ghost town at night, but Negan moved through it easily. 

The last time he had been out on the vacant streets, you had been by his side. Now, it was just a dark street with closed doors and a feeling that something different was in the air.

As he wandered through Alexandria, his thoughts were on you. What would you think if you saw him right now? He had promised that he was going to be waiting for you, but when the opportunity presented itself, Negan felt a draw to the world beyond his concrete box.

He wondered where you were or if you even made it to Hilltop safely. There was a part of him that wanted to take a detour to where his mind was telling him to go. He figured he could just skim the perimeter of Hilltop to see if you were there. However, from his many moments of overhearing Aaron and Gabriel talk outside his cell, he knew how much security was around Maggie’s former homestead. 

The thought of you had him heading to the Grimes house. He knew that Michonne was gone and that the kids would be with Gabriel. It was lucky that nobody bothered to lock their doors anymore. The people of Alexandria were safe considering the big bad wolf was locked up...until now. And while Negan felt anger towards his jailers, violence was the last thing on his mind. So, instead of burning down walls or taking revenge, he took the time to wander through the house. 

He could see little things here and there that had once been Carl’s, trinkets that were too old to be Judith’s or RJ’s. There wasn’t anything out that was once Rick’s, but Negan figured that Michonne would keep that in her bedroom for just her. 

Negan had no intention of crossing that line. 

Instead, he found himself in the doorway of another bedroom. Hanging on a small hook by the door was a compass. Gently, he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. Etched into the metal were the initials “JG”. He smiled softly at that and then looped the compass around his neck. 

Not trusting that the community was going to stay silent for long and with the sunrise on the horizon, Negan ducked back outside, grabbing some laundry that hung on a line close by. Shoving a cap on his head to hopefully obscure his face from afar, he searched for a way out. 

The sun was just rising over the trees when Negan grabbed a shovel as he headed to a portion of the wall that was behind an empty house. Staring up at the wall, Negan took one more second to think about what he was about to do, but then he remembered your face as you watched him through those infernal bars. With a huff, Negan threw the shovel over the wall and then began to climb.

“I thought you were smarter than this,” a small voice came from below him. Negan froze and then slowly turned to see a pajama-clad Judith Grimes. In her hands was her daddy’s gun and it was aimed right at Negan. “I guess not.” 

“You’re not gonna shoot me, kid,” Negan said, looking down at her. 

“I will, I’ll do it,” Judith said but Negan could see her arms shaking from trying to hold up the colt python. 

“I'm not going back. So you just pull that trigger if that's what you're gonna do, little lady. How 'bout this? How 'bout I go my way, you go yours, and we never see each other again?”

“How about you come down and I don’t put a bullet in you?” Judith offered and it was quick, but Negan saw so much of Carl in her then.

“You know, when your mom and dad... when they locked me up, they told me I was gonna be good for something, that I would help people see that things could change,” Negan said.

“Haven’t you done that?” Judith asked.

“Sure, but all the good shit happened to everyone else. I’m just rottin’ away in that box and I don’t think I can do it anymore.”

“What about (Y/N)?” Judith asked. Negan sighed, expecting this. 

“What about them?”

“They’re gonna come back and find you gone. Don’t you think they deserve better than that?” she asked with a frown. 

“They deserve better than me,” Negan said. 

“I don’t think that’s up to you,” Judith said. 

“Judith…” Negan began, but she wasn’t done. 

“No! I heard what you said to them. You promised to be here when they got back.”

“People break promises all the time.”

“Not to people they care about,” she argued. Negan knew she was right, but he had made up his mind. 

“I can’t be locked up anymore, kid. Who knows, maybe I’ll see them again someday but it will be on my terms, not your mom’s.” Judith frowned but then dropped the gun, letting it hang by her side. “You're not letting me go. You're just not seeing me leave,” he tried to reason. 

“You know, there's nothing out there for you. For anyone,” Judith said. 

“You know me better than anyone's known me in a very long time. So... I promise... I promise you that I'm not gonna hurt anyone. Even if they try to hurt me, I promise you, I won't hurt them. But... I gotta go, kid. I have to figure some stuff out.” 

“What do I tell (Y/N)?” she asked and Negan’s heart sank. 

“Nothing,” he said. 

“That’s not fair,” Judith whispered.

“I know,” Negan said and they looked at each other for a moment before she took a few steps back and she nodded. “Thanks, kid.” Negan began to climb again when Judith finally noticed the compass. 

“Hey, were you in my room?” she asked.

“You want it back?” Negan asked her, holding out the trinket. Judith shook her head after thinking about it. 

“Keep it. It'll help you find your way,” she said and then raised her gun again. “But if I see you again, I'll shoot.” Negan grinned at her as he continued to climb. 

“Yeah, I would.”

--------

The road beneath your feet felt wrong.

Everything around you felt wrong and every little sound had you jumping. You were all still shaken about what had happened in the graveyard and you could still hear that horrific whispering. It was like someone had dragged ice up your spine and you couldn’t get warm again.

As you made the trek back to the horses, Aaron and Daryl carried Jesus’ body as you helped Michonne with Eugene. Magna and Yumiko were ahead with their weapons drawn keeping an eye out for any more of the freaks with the masks.

The thunderstorm had been hard enough and then hearing Aaron scream after Jesus had been killed was even worse. It still rolled through your head alongside the whispering.

“What are we supposed to do?” you asked Michonne.

“Keep moving, get back to the horses, and get back to Hilltop,” she assured you.

“Who the hell would do this?” you asked.

“Someone who ain’t right,” Daryl said from behind you.

“You think there’s more?” Yumiko asked, her bow held out in front of her as she surveyed the area.

“Yeah, I do,” Daryl said as he readjusted Jesus’ body.

“Just keep movin’,” Michonne reminded everyone and you plowed on ahead, helping Eugene keep off his knee. It was swelling up even more and he needed to get to Siddiq. It took a bit longer to reach the horses, but eventually, Magna and Yumiko were taking the fence down and helping you to get Eugene up on the saddle.

Aaron and Daryl laid Jesus over one of the other horses while Yumiko and Magna rode the other. You, Michonne, Daryl, and Aaron walked alongside the animals, keeping your eyes on the woods as you did. Everyone was nervous and everyone was on edge. Daryl kept a bolt loaded in his bow and you kept noticing Michonne reaching back to touch her katana. Your own weapons had been lost in the fight, but you now had a new one that rested on your hip.

It was Jesus’ sword.

After you managed to get Jesus’ body off the ground, Aaron had picked up his blade as you all began to run from the cemetery. When you were finally clear, Aaron had passed you the sword without a word.

You had been hesitant to take the blade at first. Not because of whose it was, but because you figured Aaron would be the one to keep it. However, there was a look in his eyes that said more than anything he could put into words. And so, you carefully unbuckled the scabbard from Jesus’ belt and slung it on your own, sheathing the blade.

It swung on your hip now, your hand occasionally brushing against the pommel. Thinking back to the conversation you had with Judith about wanting a blade of your own now made your stomach turn. This was not the way you wanted to gain a new weapon. It felt both alien and right to carry Paul’s sword. 

You were now determined to use it to take down as many of the murderers in masks as you possibly could. Whether they knew it or not, they had just declared war.

As Michonne spoke to Aaron behind you, Daryl caught up to you, matching your stride. He reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder. You reached up and held onto it, letting him ground you.

“It’s good we’re bringin’ him back,” Daryl said.

“I know,” you said with a nod.

“I know ya don’t like small talk,” he said.

“You’re right, I don’t,” you agreed, keeping your eyes forward.

“But, I’m worried about ya,” he admitted.

“I’m alright, Daryl,” you said. “Though, I think that may be the shock.”

“He didn’t deserve to go out like that. Not Jesus,” Daryl said and you knew he was hurting. Jesus and Daryl had an unspoken bond. Both were warriors who cared for the people they protected and they had become quite close. Dixon wasn’t one to be open with his emotions, but you could tell that he was in pain.

“I feel too exposed out here,” you admitted.

“Ya wanna go home?” Daryl asked, but you shook your head.

“No, not yet. I mean, yeah, I do want to get home, but this is more important.” Daryl was watching you and he could see something else was bothering you.

“What have I missed back in Alexandria?” he asked suddenly. “Somethin’ is different with ya. What’s goin’ on?”

“Not now, okay, D? Not now,” you pleaded.

“I don’t want us keepin’ secrets,” Daryl said and you nodded.

“It’s not a secret, I just don’t have the energy to explain.”

“Long story?” he asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you agreed and he turned his eyes back onto the road, accepting your answer. It was only a few minutes later that Daryl spoke up again.

“I’m gonna try to convince Tara to let them stay,” Daryl said and you knew who he was talking about. You glanced up at Yumiko and Magna with gratitude. While you all had lost Jesus, without them and without Michonne, you could have lost everyone. You could have died too and all you could think about was what would happen to Negan.

It felt wrong to be thinking about him at that moment. Your best friend was gone, but all you wanted was Negan’s strong arms and the comforting sound of his voice. You needed your person and it made you feel a bit sick to think about him that way while walking beside someone who loathed him.

Negan’s hazel eyes lit up your mind like beacons of hope and you were willing to drown in them even if it meant losing the people closest to you. It was selfish and a bit insane, but nobody’s touch would offer you more comfort at that moment more than Negan’s.

When Michonne sped up to walk alongside Daryl, you fell back to walk with the horse that Jesus’ body was laid across. Aaron walked on the other side, keeping his eyes forward.

Michonne and Daryl were speaking about Rick and the sound of his name sent a jolt into your chest. You couldn’t help but wonder what he would do in your current situation. You also wondered what he would do about Negan in general. Would he have let him out of the cage more than the others? Or would he just leave him to rot like the others?

While you were all feeling the loss, Eugene was feeling a more complicated emotion.

Guilt.

“I’m sorry that we had to be in that graveyard,” Eugene said from atop his horse. “If I had just crawled out of that damn barn and went to find you—”

“Eugene, don’t,” you said, interrupting him. “This was not your fault. The only people we need to be blaming are those psychopaths in the damn masks. They killed Jesus, not you. Who knows who they are. They could have been watching us for weeks and we wouldn’t have known. Do not put this on yourself,” you said and then reached for his hand. Eugene reached down and held onto it tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.

Squeezing his hand tight, you tried to reassure him that you were there for him and that he was not alone in any of this. If anyone should feel guilty it was you. You had turned your back on Paul, had let him go and fight the Walkers alone. However, you were trying to remind yourself that the situation was one that nobody could have predicted. Still, it felt as if there was ice in your heart.

Suddenly, Dog became alert. His bark echoed around you and Daryl immediately raised his bow as Michonne pulled her sword. Your hand rested on the foreign weapon on your hip as you caught the motion that Dog had picked up.

Walkers were moving through the trees, but you weren’t so sure they were alone this time. “Is that the living kind or original recipe?” Eugene asked and if it was any other time you may have laughed. However, now, you were silent.

“Let’s find out,” Daryl said and then motioned for you and Michonne to move. You followed your leader, drawing your blade. The small herd was moving across a bridge. Yumiko and Magna secured the mounts while Daryl positioned himself at the end of the bridge, his crossbow raised.

You remained on the other side, Michonne adjacent to you as the others remained hidden too. As the Dead stumbled towards Daryl, he aimed and fired a bolt at one of their legs. When they kept walking, he reloaded and tried again. The second bolt found its target and a shout of pain lit up the bridge.

The masked man went down clutching his leg and the Walkers fell upon him, biting into his fresh, and very much alive flesh. While the Walkers converged, two more individuals in masks turned their attention to the other end of the bridge. One pulled a blade, but they didn’t get very far as an arrow cut through the air and embedded itself in the assailant's forehead.

You turned to see Yumiko standing there with her bow raised and a murderous look in her eye. When the last mask went to go for her, you and Michonne moved at the same time. You both raised your swords, crossing them into an “X” to block her escape. When the killer drew their weapon, Daryl moved in.

“Drop it!” He yelled. The other hesitated for a second before throwing the knife down and getting on their knees, raising their hands. Yumiko and Magna moved to take out the rest of the Walkers while you, Daryl, and Michonne approached the shaking figure on the ground.

Daryl didn’t hesitate to reach for the back of their head and pull the disgusting mask from their head. When their face was revealed, you took a step back.

It was just a kid, a teenage girl.

“Please, please don’t kill me,” the girl said as she looked up at Daryl with terrified eyes. She was filthy and looked as if she had been walking the Earth with the Dead for years. It was unnerving. Even more so, she couldn’t have been that much older than Carol’s son, perhaps even the same age. 

“How many?” Daryl spat.

“Please... you killed them all. It's just me now,” she said, her eyes narrowing in on Daryl’s weapon. Michonne surged forward then and placed her sword against the girl’s throat. 

“I don’t believe you!” Michonne shot, but you knocked the sword back. Michonne looked at you in shock. 

“She’s a fucking kid, Michonne,” you said.

“She’s also a killer, (Y/N),” Michonne argued, pointing her sword back at the kid. Behind you, more Walkers began to approach from the East and it would soon be too much to handle and keep the horses safe. Not to mention keeping an eye on the scared teenager at your feet. Daryl then made the call. 

“We ain’t got time for this, we’re takin’ her with us,” Daryl said as he roughly grabbed the kid’s arm and hauled her to her feet. Michonne shot you a look as she followed after. 

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, knowing you were never going to hear the end of it. 

--------- 

Negan stood in a clearing, the grass at his feet dead from years of heat and the Dead trampling it. 

He knew where he was, he knew the second he turned off the main road. Years before he would have thought about this particular spot with a smug smile. Now, all he wanted to do was be sick.

And so he did. 

The air felt too hot and every image and sound from that bloody night had come back. He knew their names now. Glenn Rhee and Abraham Ford. Gabriel had made sure that he knew who they were when he first visited him in the cell. From faceless corpses to actual people, Glenn and Abraham haunted him and he took every abusive shriek from the other side as he soaked in his guilt.

You had been in the clearing that night. Though you had barely been conscious since Dwight had given you quite the beating when you tried to stop him from hurting Daryl. Not long ago, you admitted that you barely remembered him talking to everyone in the lineup. You remembered Glenn and Abraham dying and the screams of your family, but not much else. He didn’t know if he was grateful for that or not. 

Perhaps if you could remember everything from that night, then you wouldn’t be wasting your time with him now. It was always so odd for you to talk to him as if the first time you had truly noticed each other was when you first visited his cell. The truth was, he had noticed you that night in the very clearing he was kneeling in. 

He didn’t know what it was that made him look at you twice, but there was a resolve in your eyes even as they glassed over. He could tell that somewhere behind the disorientation and fury was someone who would be the last one standing.

He still believed that. Though, he didn’t think you would be much of a survivor with a failed Savior by your side. At least, not until he knew who he had become and the best way he knew how to figure that out was a test and the new world was the biggest one there was.

-------

Returning to Hilltop was not the celebration you had anticipated when you had set out. 

What started as a rescue mission turned into a funeral procession and as the large gates opened, silence filled the air as you walked with Daryl and the others. Tara and Enid were coming out of Barrington when Enid gasped as she finally saw what and who was on the back of the horse Aaron led. 

Stopping right before the Colonial house, Aaron approached Enid who ran to hug him, burying her face into his chest. He was shaking as he held her. Tara stepped towards Jesus’ body and placed her hand on his back, dipping her head in sorrow. 

You took a step back, not wanting to intrude on the moment. You also made sure Paul’s sword was out of sight. It felt wrong to bring it into Hilltop when it was separated from its owner.

Former owner. 

Instead, you focused on the other task at hand. Daryl hauled the girl off the horse, the blindfold he had put on still tightly in place. She stumbled on the ground as he righted her and began dragging her towards the cellar that you knew led to Hilltop’s jail cells. You followed closely by, ignoring the people’s calls for answers. Daryl yelled back a few but kept walking. 

He yanked open the cellar doors and shoved her down the steps. You followed him and Michonne, your hand now resting on your weapon. You could hear Tara speaking to Tammy above ground, but you ignored her. 

“Daryl?” a voice came and you recognized it immediately. When Henry saw you, his eyes were filled with worry. “(Y/N)? What’s going on?” 

“Jesus is dead,” you told him as Daryl tossed the girl into a cage on the other side of the cellar. 

“What?” Henry asked. You didn’t have the energy to respond to the kid as you slipped away towards Daryl and Michonne. You didn’t even want to ask why the kid was down in the cells in the first place. 

Daryl was glaring down at the kid as she stared up at him with those same terrified eyes. 

“No more bullshit,” he sneered. “Yer gonna talk or I’ll finish what she started,” he said pointing to Michonne. The girl met your eyes through the bars, but you just faded back into the shadows and watched. 

---------

Negan didn’t remember the world feeling this empty. 

Then again, anytime he was out in it, he had an army at his back. Now, he only had himself. He could practically hear your voice in his head saying something like, “Come on, now you’re just bein’ dramatic.” 

That thought comforted him as he came across a building that seemed to be Walker-free. With a quick shove, he broke in through the front door and began making his way through the shop. Immediately, he clocked it as too small and that you would hate it. You had only briefly mentioned your fear of small spaces, but it was one of the small details that he had never forgotten. 

When he spotted a leather jacket, a laugh flew from his throat, and with a smile, he slid it across his shoulders. “Damn Teach, would you look at that? Fits like a glove,” He said quietly. Shaking off the thoughts that were threatening to overwhelm him, he moved further into the shop. 

When a gnarled hand grabbed at his ankle, Negan swore in surprise but brought his boot down on the Walker’s head before it could take a bite out of his leg. Then, of course, because his luck was turning for the worse, the storage room door broke open and more Walkers flooded into the small aisles.

Negan ran for the back door and slammed his body into it. Scrambling to get back outside, he wrenched the door open and shoved it behind him just as the Walkers reached for him. “Jesus Christ,” he swore, and then finally, he got it to shut. 

Negan glared at the door as he tried to catch his breath. He hadn’t had to fight Walkers for over six years and he had almost forgotten how it felt to go up against the things. He thought back to the night when the wall had come down and he had seen you fight with your blades. You had been a powerhouse and one that he had no intention of ever going up against. He definitely understood then why you were one of Alexandria’s main protectors. 

Letting that image wash over him, he finally turned his face towards the direction he was always heading.

He was going home.

----------

The girl was still begging, but Daryl wasn’t having it. 

“How many more?” he asked for the third time. 

“They're all dead,” the girl said as tears streamed down her face. “My family's dead. Please just stop.” The begging was starting to get to you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Daryl to stop. You knew that you needed answers. However, no matter how angry you were, you hated seeing a kid in a cage. Just another thing you had in common with Negan.

“Not until ya start answering our questions. Your name. Start with your name.”

“I told you, I don't have one. None of us do. None of us did. That's not how it worked,” she said, trying to make him understand. 

“How did it work? Why do you wear their skins?” you asked, finally stepping out of the shadows. “What’s the point?”

“It's what we did to live. That's... That's all we wanted to do. Live,” she said, but you still couldn’t understand why. Since the start of the Apocalpyse, there was only one constant rule and that was to stay away from the Walkers. How these...people could willingly surround themselves with them is something you couldn’t comprehend.

“You're saying you had to do this?” Michonne shot back. 

“You wouldn't understand,” the girl whimpered. 

“Then make us understand. What the hell were you doing?” Michonne tried again.

“We... We were just trying to see if they were good people, too. But then you attacked us, and now they're dead. They're all dead. And I don't have anything!”

“What did your people know about us? Do they know about this place?” Michonne asked, glaring down at the girl.

“I don't know. I don't know anything. They didn't tell me anything!” she yelled as the sobs continued. “Please stop asking me. Just leave me alone, please. Please just leave me alone,” she begged and Daryl threw his hands up in exasperation. 

As Michonne and Daryl slammed the cage door behind them, he looked at you and you knew what he was asking. You nodded and leaned back against the wall to watch over the girl as Daryl led Michonne outside to speak to her.

After a moment of hearing the soft cries of the girl across from you, you finally stepped forward. She backed away as you approached her. Resting your arms on the bars, you stared down at her calmly. You were well-versed in speaking to someone from the other side of a cell, but this was not Negan and you were not in the mood to play games. 

“I don’t care about your name,” you began. “That not what’s important right now. To be honest with you, I am struggling with not breaking this door open and strangling you.” She gulped at that. “However, I am not someone who kills kids. Though, I can’t say the same for my friends that just left. You see, kid, we are incredibly protective over our people and we don’t let monsters hurt them.” 

“I didn’t—”

“I’m not done,” you stopped her. “I know all about monsters. I know how they think, how they act, and I know how to make them talk.” She was staring up at you with wide eyes and you could feel the fear that was radiating off of her. 

“(Y/N)…” Henry interjected. 

“Shut up, Henry!” you shot back, turning your glare on him as he sunk back into his cell. 

“I never wanted to hurt anyone! You attacked us!”

“We were killing Walkers!” you shouted back. “And in case you damn well forgot, you were the ones hunting us.” 

“This is just how the world works now,” she whispered. 

“I know damn well how the world works. You’re a child, you may be a part of some kind of cult or whatever the hell you wanna call your family, but you are still. A. Child. We’ve all seen the way this world is, we’ve fought for our lives here, won wars, and lost friends. Now, I got someone waitin’ for me and I ain’t about to waste my time on you and your bullshit. I stand by my code that I don’t want to kill you, but make no mistake, if I don’t start gettin’ some damn answers, I will keep your ass down here. Even if that means you never see daylight again.”

--------

“Home, sweet home,” Negan said as he looked up at the factory that was once his kingdom. 

A pipe was resting on his shoulder as he smiled up at the building, feeling a shred of his former self trying to breakthrough. If he closed his eyes, he could almost imagine that there were people on the other side of those walls waiting to welcome him home. 

However, he knew the truth. The Saviors were gone, his kingdom had fallen, and all he was now was a washed-up leader with a rusty pipe. From the corner of his eye, he could see a few Walkers staggering towards him. With a wide smile, he swung the pipe and cracked the first skull. Dark blood sprayed as the creature hit the ground and then, he was fired up. 

As more and more of the Dead converged on him, he got back into the rhythm that he thought he had lost. It was exhilarating to just let go and take out all his frustration on the Dead. He had been feeling quite overwhelmed and angry the past few months, more so than usual and he had been so afraid that he would lash out at you and scare you off. 

By the time he was out of breath and thoroughly proud of himself, Negan strutted towards the front doors. However what he was met with was not a shrine to his empire, but a sunken graveyard of failure. 

The entirety of the factory floor was flooded and if he hadn’t known the building like the back of his hand, he wouldn’t have thought this was the same place he had stood above proudly seven years before. Negan leaned against the railing, hanging his head.

None of it was right. 

He could see bodies of fallen Walkers submerged in the corner, old equipment from before used to barricade doors, and even evidence that multiple fights had broken out. Negan wasn’t fully aware of what became the Sanctuary during the year after the war. Laura had told him once that Daryl was overseeing it but that he was rarely there and when he was, he always wanted to leave. 

Negan didn’t blame him. Daryl had been through hell and back at the Sanctuary. Another thing he wasn’t all that proud of. Truth was, Negan liked Daryl, he even respected him, but back then, he liked power even more. Just thinking about the kneeling and the killing now made Negan ashamed. 

Not all of it, but most of it. He never felt guilty for what he did to the Monroe boy. Even you had agreed that Spencer had deserved it and nobody missed him all that much. He probably didn’t deserve a full evisceration, but he never felt bad about killing him. Then there were the moments that he killed to protect his people, the incidents that happened before he met Rick. 

However, then there were the moments that he had learned about after the war. The killing of the child at Hilltop, the massacre at Oceanside, and of course, the slaughter of Jadis’ people at the dump. Simon had been very busy. Negan thought his Second was simply spreading fear, but he had never known just how blood-soaked his name had become. 

“I am Negan” was now sounding more like a curse than a mantra. 

As Negan walked through the ruins of his former home, he was met with a loud bang as a Walker threw itself at one of the doors. Negan recognized them immediately. "Big Richie, is that you? Look at you. Loyal to the end,” Negan said as he looked at the Dead man. 

He moved on, heading out onto the main floor where he felt the true loss of everything. Most importantly, though, he was missing you. He didn’t know if you were home yet or if Judith had told anyone what happened. 

If he was being honest with himself and he always was, he didn’t care about a cage or a warden in the form of Father Gabriel. He just wanted you. Leaving Alexandria, breaking his promise, all of it was a mistake and he now hated himself for it.

His hand found the compass around his neck and he flipped it over, rubbing his hands over the initials carved into the back. He sighed, closing his eyes as he thought about the last thing he had said to you. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he whispered to himself. That was what he said to you and you had believed him. “Fuck,” he swore as took a last look at the fallen kingdom. He had made up his mind and there was no going back this time. 

He didn’t care about Michonne or Daryl or even if Rosita wanted to skill him alive. He only cared about you and that alone had him walking from the Sanctuary and turning his back on his old life in favor of the new one he wanted to build with you. 

As he spotted a motorcycle, a realization hit him like a truck. He smiled and the rusty pipe in his hand fell from his grip, the sound echoing around the yard like the final ring of a church bell on Sunday.

“I’m comin’ home, (Y/N).”

-------

Michonne was leaving. 

You knew that she had too. It was too dangerous for people back home in Alexandria to not know what was going on. However, you had decided to stay just a bit longer. “Are you sure?” she asked you as you walked through Hilltop.

“I need to be here to get answers and I don’t know, try to get Daryl to keep his head on straight,” you said. 

“What about Negan?” Michonne asked and for the first time, her tone wasn’t that hostile when speaking his name.

“He knew I was coming out here. I’ll see him when I see him.”

“Should I tell him what’s going on?” Michonne asked. You thought about it for a moment before nodding. 

“Probably for the best. He’s gonna hear people talking about it anyway. Hell, maybe he’s heard about these freaks before. I know he traveled for a bit before settling at the Sanctuary.” Michonne nodded. 

“I’ll ask him,” she said. 

“Something isn’t adding up with this girl,” you admitted. 

“What are you thinking?” 

“This kind of pack mentality, the no-names, the vicious nature of these people,” you said, trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I don’t think she’s telling us the truth when she said we killed them all. If my instincts are right, there is a whole herd of masks out there. They may have been out there for a while too.” 

“This is not good,” Michonne said, rubbing at her brow, 

“I’m going to get the answers I need and then I’ll come home and tell you what I think,” you said. 

“Alright, I think that’s the best idea.”

“Go, Michonne, get back to your kids,” you said and she smiled softly, reaching out to give you a hug before going over to Daryl to tell him the same thing. Your eyes scanned the community around you and you were starting to get nervous. 

Tara had told you that Alden and Luke had gone out to look for you and they hadn’t returned.  There were thoughts that were nagging at you that said that they were in trouble and you couldn’t shake them. Alden was a good friend and he was special to Enid. You couldn’t handle losing him so soon after Jesus. And Luke was important to Yumiko and Magna, two people who you now trusted with your life. 

When Jesus was finally buried, you stood at the back, gripping his weapon. Aaron stood next to you, his hand wrapped around your shoulder as you watched the man you both cared for be placed in the ground. It was a silent ceremony and as the grave was filled in, Enid was nowhere to be found. But you knew where she was, she was with Glenn. 

Enid always went to his grave when someone had died and you were probably the only one who knew that besides Alden. You didn’t mention it as Aaron hugged you goodbye and followed the rest of Alexandrians from Hilltop with Michonne leading them home. 

Instead of participating in the moment of silence with the rest of Hilltop, you headed back down to the cell. Daryl found you down there a few moments later and didn’t say anything. The girl had cowered at your presence when you had entered, but now just watched you with open curiosity.

Daryl was pissed when he barged in, heading straight for her. You didn’t try to stop him. 

“Who are you?” Daryl barked. “Answer the question. You wanna die? Is that it?” he bellowed, but Henry wasn’t having it either. 

“Daryl, what's your problem?” Henry said. 

 “Quiet!” you yelled at the kid and he just slammed his hands against the bars. 

“Do you?” Daryl repeated. “People up there just buried a good man. And they are ready to string you up right now. All I got to do is drag your ass up them steps. How many in your group?” 

“I already told you…” she said but Daryl ripped open the door and grabbed her, throwing her against the bars. 

“How many?” he yelled.

“I don’t know, ten maybe? We wore skins to blend in. We didn't have names. I mean... I mean, we did, but we didn't use them!” 

“How long you been out around here?”

“I don't know. We moved around with the... with the Dead. I mean, the skins made them leave us alone. They protected us, so we protected them.”

“You got a camp? Walls?” you asked.

“Walls don't keep you safe. Places like this don't make it. They never make it. That's how it is. My mom and me, we saw it happen over and over. I... I barely remember the world before all this. But my mom, she told me how it was changing, how we had to change with it, how we needed the dead and each other to keep safe. We're never alone.”

“Why'd your people kill our people?” Daryl asked. 

“It's just what we do. Everybody still alive is a threat. It's us or them.”

“How many people in your group and don't lie to me!”

“My mom! It's just my mom,” she said. 

“You said your people were never alone,” you said, narrowing your eyes.  The girl’s eyes widened as she was caught in a lie and then Daryl was grabbing her and trying to drag her from the cell. 

“No! No, I told you the truth!”

“I told you what was gonna happen!” Daryl yelled back

“Daryl!” Henry shouted. 

“Shut up!” Daryl snapped at him.

“Please! Let go of me!” the girl begged.

“Daryl, stop!” Henry begged again and you were ready to ship his ass back to the Kingdom right then. 

“Please, Daryl, please don't kill me, please,” the girl said, and at the sound of his name falling from her lips, he pushed her back into the cell and slammed the door. As Daryl went to yell at Henry, you couldn’t hear anymore. You climbed back to the surface and tried to calm down. 

Daryl wasn’t far behind you. “I don’t believe her,” you said. “What happened with the herd and the graveyard, it was too coordinated.”

“I know,” Daryl said. “Come here.” He led you over to the window that led into the cell where the girl was and he sat down. You joined him and then, you listened. 

“Thank you,” the girl said. 

“What?” Henry responded. 

“For saving me, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” he said and then, “I'm Henry.” It was quiet for a moment before she finally responded.

“I'm Lydia.”

-------

Negan had seen a lot of weird shit in his life, but seeing little Judith Grimes in the middle of the road pointing a gun at him took the cake. 

“Shit!” Negan swore as Judith fired at the bike he rode. He skidded on the road, the bike going into a ditch as he flew off it, landing on his back. Judith ran after him.

“I told you I was gonna shoot you,” Judith said, aiming her weapon on him again. 

“Yeah, you did,” Negan sighed, getting to his feet as he brushed off the dirt from his pants. 

“Why’d you come back?” Judith asked. 

“Because I should have listened to you,” Negan admitted. “There wasn’t anythin’ out there for me.” Judith narrowed her eyes but then shook her head.

“That’s not the full reason,” Judith argued and Negan sighed, crossing his arms. “Tell why you really came back.”

“Judith…” Negan said. 

“Negan,” she shot back and he knew that she wasn’t going to let him move without an answer. Instead of brushing off the girl’s question, Negan knelt down to her level, keeping his eyes on hers. Whatever she saw in his eyes had her dropping the colt and moving closer to him. 

“I don’t care about being locked in a cell if it means that I’m near them,” Negan admitted. “If I can spend only an hour a day with them, it’s worth it because dammit kid, you were always right.” 

“About what?” she asked

Negan reached out and adjusted the brim on her hat as he smiled gently at her. He took a deep breath and then with an open heart said, “I’m in love with (Y/N).”

-------

As tensions rose, somewhere not too far from Hilltop, Alden and Luke were met with the barrel of a shotgun. 

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