#okay back to death I go weeeee

[dangerdragoncat]

Pssst.

Hey.

@mattastr0phic pick up your lil blorbo?

[demonwield]

which mun inspires you a lot?

Unprompted || Always Accepting!

     Man. . .I don’t want to come out and say something that might make others feel HURT, but since I’m being asked, I’m going to be honest. In truth, there’s a LOT of people who inspire me, fuck I could pull out a follower list probably 100+ strong of people who motivate, or inspire me, for a lot of different reasons. So, let’s go down a SMALL list, those who are probably the STRONGEST inspirations for me. 

@zorkaya || Renata. Lord, I could talk about this absolute sweetheart so much. FIRST, Ren has been a dear friend of mine for years now. Really, it’s shocking how long, on and off sure, but unchangingly and unflinchingly, how long we’ve been friends. She’s seen me at my best, seen me at my worst, she’s fought for me in the past, she’s been there to help me through that DramaTM bullshit last year. She’s never let rumors, or false call outs, or the other bullshit fuck with our friendship. She’s been a darling, and I cherish her to death. Atop of that? She has one of the BEST OC’s around: seriously, Zarina is amazing, and always going to be in my top 3 favorite OC’s of all time. I love her writing. I love her...well, everything really. 

@exrhlab || Languid, this guy is amazing. He’s the one who dragged me down this rabbit hole of pain and torment that is Arknights, and is one of my most common people you’ll see on my blog. Because he’s a great friend, and we genuinely both like to cause PAIN and TORMENT to our muses, and write both twisted, but also fulfilling stories. We chat constantly, and he’s just a great person. 

@eraba-reta-unmei || Everi, this motherfucking girl. Man, she’s a total twerp sometimes. But I wouldn’t be here to this day if not for her. She’s gotten me through some DIFFICULT moments in my life, and is one of my closest friends I can ever ask for. We’ve been around together at this point for so long, and there’s days where we want to rip eachother apart (if you don’t hit that point with a friend, are you truly FRIENDS lets be real), but we always bounce back cause that’s our relationship. We suffer hell in League, we used to rp all the fucking time (which yknow we need to do more again hell yeah), we’re close. 

@ryusxnka || OH BOY, is it more Caleb Love Hours? Well if anyone has been around this blog long enough, you all know I love my brother. That’s all there is to it: I’d not be here today without him. I wouldn’t even  be able to show my FACE on this site ever again if not for him, and god I love him to death. He’s amazing, okay? He’s OBSESSED with Toshiro Hitsugaya, of course, but he’s also just the best with him okay? His writing is spectacular, god, Caleb is literally HITSUGAYA INCARNATE. He’s super good hearted, he’s smart, he’s funny. He’s just a great brother, and I love him t o death, okay? I probably sound like a broken record, but it’s true.

@pcrdiseseekers || OH BOY, it’s JAZZY love hours! So let’s take a long trip down Memory Lane, cause fuck me, Jazz here is one of my OLDEST friends at this point. Hard to believe it too, cause I remember Jazz when she was but a weeeee Naoto Shirogane blog back in the day, far before her love for Multi-muses, and her love for Kyouko Kirigiri. God, back in the day, I used to be SO terrified of her. And we all know, and I can hear it now, ‘Wolf, buddy, you’re ALWAYS terrified of people!’ Well, I’ve gotten a lot better: someone literally had to GO TO JAZZ HERSELF and tell her, for us to first interact, it was that bad. (No, I didn’t even plan that, and goddddd, I was a fucking mess when they did.) And lo and behold, ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS FOREVER now, always someone I come back to, and cling to like she’s my own flesh and blood. Jazz, I love you to death. I truly do. And you are just absolutely spectacular. It’s hilarious how long we’ve known one another, and I don’t regret a single day: you’ve given me some of the BEST rps over the years as we FULLY TORE DOWN poor Kyouko into Kaneki’s queen, how Homura fell for Centipede, Kyouko studied Ichigo, Yang and Adam had their forbidden, ESTRANGED relationship. God, we’ve done so much over the years, and I look back on it all so many days nowadays and go ‘jeez, to relive it all again.’ Here’s to more years of good times, huh? 

@shuanghe || Valkyrie. My big sister. My darling, sweet guardian practically. God...she’s my rock. My anchor. She’s so much to me, and another person I love with all my heart. Much like the people before me, she’s a great mix of Writing, and Personal feelings, who has been with me for many years now. And I truly am grateful to have her in my life. 

@sung56sun || Kianye, so little we’ve known one another now, and yet it feels like we’ve known eachother  for an eternity already. And it’s you, you specifically, who makes me feel it’s OKAY to gush about my darling muses. I won’t lie, even on my own blog, I feel I talk too much about my OWN characters, and it’s you who makes me think on that, and go ‘stop that, you’re being dumb’. Others have tried to tell me the same, but it’s the constant FERVENT LOVE and ATTENTION you throw us, that truly make it hit home. And for that, I’m forever grateful for how much you love Akame, and, incidentally, how well we get along. You’re dear to me, and you’re stuck with us~

@bonesugar || Asa, Asa Asa Asa, such a darling you are. Your writing, your descriptions of your replies, the way you make such a BEAUTIFUL girl like Sucrose so endearing, so amazing, I truly admire. Just like Kianye, I’ve known you for so little, and yet I have adored every moment we talk. And I look forward to more and more in the future of us chatting, rping, and gaming together. 

@erobret || Ferrrrrrgie. Oh man, much like Jazzy, I’ve known Fergie for fucking years. It’s hilarious how long we’ve known one another, and just like Jazzy, she’s always been a fantastic friend. We lost touch for a while because I had to vanish for a bit, but then I found her again, and well. Reliving old memories, and rping again, is amazing. Chatting with Fergie is great, and just. Fergie is great, okay? I really can’t formulate the words without just reusing at this point more of what I’ve already said. 

@jiingweii || Sophieeeeee. My dearest, my twisted friend. My soft and squishy marshmallow friend. My busy little friend. Even though we don’t talk as much anymore as life happens to the both of us, you are still DEAR to my heart, and I wish every day is wonderful to you. I love seeing you on my dash from all  your blogs, and you are a joy to see, and hear, from always. I truly would not have kept Akame all this time if not for you: it was you who put the most faith in my girl, who gave me the confidence to keep her going. And I am forever grateful for that. Because now she is my most loved, and used, muse, without a doubt. 

     Okay, this is going to get SUPER long if I don’t stop somewhere, so down below? Is a bunch of other people I could rant on about, but I don’t want to be typing a twenty five page ESSAY even though I could and flood the dash worse. 

@medinventive || @nulltune || @unhclyblood || @remunporium || @curiouskinetic || @lucernarosa || @luckuki || @ichigokurosaki || @destallo || @maljefe || @nosheath || @karmesinrot || @mamoriitai || @veroxins || @x-ame-x-damnee-x || @noircisaint || @retour || @shukuchiisms || @redhorncl || @zhuangshii || @babelmedicus || @amourise || @evelicious || @risingsol || @electric-ecclectic || @electricea || @dementedstatic || @pervicax || @lunaetis || @darksonofsparda || @capravulpes || @stahri-light || @charmerquilled || @rebelquilled || @batoushoujo || @phantarei || @hutaou || @popolaroleplayhub || @devotionobsessed || @amazingwcbs || @algizkali || @baizhuo || @nexarerum

[utopianvoices]

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu​ for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

i.

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner. 

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments. 

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend. 

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life. 

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face. 

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands. 

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.” 

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering. 

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?” 

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern. 

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.” 

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal. 

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.” 

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets. 

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment. 

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face. 

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room. 

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?” 

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.” 

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity. 

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave. 

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!” 

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.” 

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.” 

“Wow.” 

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting. 

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend. 

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!” 

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you. 

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.” 

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way. 

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!” 

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present. 

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.” 

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you. 

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile. 

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!” 

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix. 

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!” 

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off. 

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?” 

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder. 

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.” 

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.” 

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.” 

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces. 

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining. 

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him. 

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you. 

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.” 

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you. 

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management. 

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table. 

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you. 

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!” 

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday. 

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along. 

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?” 

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin. 

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.” 

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation. 

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!” 

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend. 

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying. 

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?” 

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!” 

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.” 

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory. 

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!” 

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved. 

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!” 

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore. 

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life. 

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.” 

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun. 

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!” 

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.” 

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin. 

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!” 

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten. 

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?” 

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans. 

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.” 

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.” 

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours. 

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

v.

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be. 

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself. 

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim. 

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge. 

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!” 

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks. 

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes. 

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide. 

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice. 

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you. 

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I came here to water my plants.” 

Plants? 

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.” 

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!” 

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person. 

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice. 

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.” 

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.” 

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too. 

One question at a time, you decide. 

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue. 

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.” 

Oh. That’s all your questions answered. 

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do. 

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you. 

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.” 

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you. 

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.” 

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.” 

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.” 

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess. 

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.” 

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?” 

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?” 

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.” 

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!” 

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?” 

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push. 

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.” 

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk. 

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered. 

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought. 

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting. 

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!” 

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter. 

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page. 

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten. 

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.” 

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down. 

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same. 

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.” 

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home. 

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!” 

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii. 

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things. 

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was. 

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours. 

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?” 

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?” 

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered. 

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.” 

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out. 

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.” 

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising. 

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.” 

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure. 

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?” 

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy. 

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.” 

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.” 

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed. 

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing. 

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you. 

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back. 

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush. 

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. 

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his. 

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up. 

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you. 

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions. 

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.” 

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?” 

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate. 

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish. 

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.” 

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him. 

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!” 

You were going to kill that idiot. 

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room. 

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other. 

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.” 

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue. 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes. 

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself. 

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left. 

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss. 

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before. 

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions. 

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition. 

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game. 

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and  Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat. 

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm. 

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?” 

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him. 

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment. 

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.” 

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk. 

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering. 

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?” 

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.” 

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin. 

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!” 

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.” 

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.” 

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door. 

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you. 

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?” 

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities. 

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.” 

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost. 

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop. 

“I think I like you.” 

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say. 

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him. 

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough. 

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears. 

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

x.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop. 

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts. 

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday. 

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.” 

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?” 

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right. 

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed. 

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him. 

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face. 

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.” 

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out. 

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?” 

“W-what?” 

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?” 

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle. 

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room. 

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it. 

Chan was smiling. 

“Can’t believe it worked.” 

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly. 

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.” 

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out.  “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.  

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier. 

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing. 

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh. 

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face. 

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!” 

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

[appledotcodotuk]

why the hive fckin suck at its job: a rant

spoilers for tgwdlm ahead!

first of all, it's important to consider what exactly the hive's job is. my answer is... who the fuck knows. literally. what is the hive's aim. what do you want Paul? more like, what do you want hive? let's find out!

it kinda evolves, as the play progresses. the intial aim of the hive, and one that does actually remain consistent is the constant burning need to grow and devour and gain more and more (insert capitalism metaphor here).

however, this is distorted by the people it possess who influence that aim, as we'll see later.

also the fact it crashes into a theatre displaying Mamma Mia gives the hive the motive it need to fit the world around it to the structure of the musical. having no originality of its own, the hive instead just picks up what is given to it. kinda like an evil baby.

it wants uniformity, that is indeed its ultimate goal and desire, no duh. it thinks it can achieve that through musical theatre, shame that the hive is dead wrong. cause the hive fucking sucks at its own job / aim / ultimate purpose / one concrete goal that motivates all its actions.

can't maintain control over its subjects

okay, so, the hive wants uniformity. it wants everyone to be dancing to the beat of its own tune. right? yeah. shame it literally can't keep its own possessed subjects in line at all. at the risk of sounding like the 10th doctor waxing lyrical abt humanity for the 50th time, humans are really difficult to control cause we're not really motivated by an altruistic allegiance to one primary good. we've got icky emotions that often move us to do stupid unpredictable stuff way more. it makes me wonder if the reason the hive wanted to use musical theatre to try and persuade ppl was cause it seems to think that is how theyll get emotive humans; through emotive songs. anyways. let's look at some examples shall weeeee?

Mr Davidson:

so, Mr Davidson. funnily enough, he's the guy whose in part acting as the hive trying to figure out what it wants through his interactions w/ Paul. every person it possess gives it just a bit more humanity and curiosity abt the world it is currently taking over. at least I think so. hence why as the musical develops u get character's like possessed!Alice wondering 'why does it hurt to love?' - the change in music and mood to something much more introspective really suggests to me that the hive is beginning to question the thoughts and emotions of its human hosts.

Mr Davidson is a family man through and through, he loves his wife Carol. she's his muse, his source of light. his feelings for her are not concrete or easy to explain and solve - hence why his sudden ahem demand of her is so hilarious and also jarring. it completely clashes with the 'I want song' which is simple, and often pushes forward a wider cause. not so with Mr Davidson, he just really loves his wife man. enough to break a frickin alien possession.

tbh I think its hilarious that (at least to me) the hive has to force him to forget and continue with the song, like, he straight up is just talking to his wife in that phone call, talking, not singing. so, no possession until he reverts back into song. ergo, the hive cannot maintain the uniformity it wants. even from the get go when theoretically its control should be stronger cause it has less ppl to co-ordinate. bad. at. its. job.

Paul:

this one hurts folks. yes, I know it's generally agreed, though somewhat debated that the state of Paul by the end of the tgwdlm is not purely possessed. I agree. once again, the hive is unable to truly enforce uniformity.

at this point, the motives of Paul and the hive are kinda just mixed, neither fully human nor fully alien. hence the constant shifts between pleeing for her to get away, to hide, to stay safe: 'what if the only choice is you have to sing to survive' and just full on old style hive nastiness 'let me puke in your mouth and just open your food bin girl' (so romantic 🥰 /j).

the hive has gone away from its original aim, and become something... different. no longer stuck to just one type of genre or style of song, it's really clever to show the developing complexity of the hive by showing how it is now juggling lots of different motifs with references to all the old songs from before recontextualised in a new way - its learning. evil baby... no longer uniform.

general miscommunication:

there are several instances of the hive not fully having uniform control over its subjects. for instance, right after not your seed with the three teens having to like... calibrate. they aren't just completely connected then?? also, this is a very small thing, but uhhhh at the end of inevitable when Paul is about to say the apotheosis is upon... the chorus interrupts him with USSSSSSS. interruptions??? not very in sync of u hive.

I think this inability to exert uniformity is also shown in the contrast between genre of musical theatre. my alien abomination cannot decide whether it wants to be the more modern edgy rock musical (join us (and die), not your seed ) or super happy go lucky old style musical theatre (lah dee dah dah day, and inevitable). it tries to do both, even while trying to encourage union, and sticking to one thing. hypocrite!!!!!

2. aims are guided by the people it possess

so, I mentioned this a bit already, but the hive isn't only mutating the humans, the humans are mutating the hive right back. this is more an interesting observation than any actual analysis but let's goooo.

greenpeace girl:

I think it's very likely that greenpeace girl is one of the first to be possessed. This is probably easily debunkable but whatever this analysis is flying by the seat or its pants anywayyyyy. why? cause where else would it pick up that whole 'this planet needs fixing' thing? it's interesting too, cause it morphs from expressing the desire to join hands and sing together, unity and peace with no actual action behind it. this then goes right to the other end, with the hive going 'fine I'll do it myself' and trying to save things by enforcing a dictatorship on the world. it develops and changes, and strays from its original means of accomplishing its aims! speaking oooooof...

3. inconsistent in means of accomplishing aims

okay, ur an evil hive mind. u think musicals are the way to win over these silly humans cause they're all weak and emotive and seem to respond to them. but, wait! schwoopsie! you haven't realised that for emotional depth and growth to mean anything, you need there to be established development and well... growth. otherwise the sentiments are as vague as the ones expressed in What Do You Want, Paul?

this show has genuine emotional moments, just not really during the musical numbers WITH EXCEPTIONS. any strife is smoothed over quickly, and so the development and change that would have to go into such growth is just gone. (see, You Tied Up My Heart) all so it can achieve its own desire to grow and grow and grow, maybe a metaphor for art being killed under late stage capitalism??

what actually matters is the impact the songs have afterwards, in causing a death - because we have a bond and care abt these characters. those short scenes between Paul and Emma are actually way more resonant than any song. except... inevitable, and also not your seed a bit. at this point the hive has learnt a thing or two, and can actually twist human emotion a little. but for it to do that, it has to reject the uniformity it prizes, and be adaptable. point towards being more human than it first thought? methinks so. and yet it's just not enough...

it's also why let it out, to me, feels really ingenuine. Paul has expressed himself in much better ways already. what they're doing is clearly paining him, and hurting the guy. he's terrified bless.

you can't force someone into being emotional vulnerable, man.

it's why all the deaths for the characters who are forced to express themselves are really violent, involving them being ripped open - literally forcing them to expose themselves from the 'inside out' as Alice reflects in Not Your Seed. you can't force genuine emotional connection, it has to be fostered, shown in the much more affecting relationship of Paul and Emma. the only reason the hive actually has power over our characters is because of these genuine emotional connections, which it tries and often fails to take advantage of, resulting in just resorting to brute violence. messy hive, very messy.

at the core, the musical's a kinda attack on that toxic positivity mindst: trying to force people to reach the sort of easy solutions by sharing feelings in a way that feels pretty invasive and deciding you are instantly fixed. the problems these characters face are jarringly not really what you'd expect a character in a musical to face, cheating, a lot of it, mid-life crisis. problems that are bland, or wayyyy too real. this is purposefully done, to reveal just how silly the hive's aim to use musical theatre to solve everyone's problem is. life is more complex than that smh.

4. a human can write a much more expressive, and genuine song than they ever could lol

u know which song I'm talking abt. what more is there to say. so much for making persuasive songs to tempt people over.

5. make me sad cause they took some perfectly nice ppl and funked them up 😭

this was a stupid point lol. basically I'm just bitter that this hive took a bunch of perfectly okay ppl and gave them hive brain. screw u hive. I swear I'm gonna watch Black Friday soon, cause I'm sure it's gonna completely destroy every thought I've had so far, but whateve,,, just take this as a look at tgwdlm like it's a stand-alone piece.

these guys are supposed to all be 'individuals' on one level, but also 'appendages of a much larger organism'. there's a little too much individualism and fracturing to be cohesive enough to do that I feel. the hive to me is not an infallible, unstoppable force, in fact, every human it takes over only brings it closer to understanding us. so that's maybe a slight positive note??? idk ?! I just have lots of thoughts and feelings abt this musical even if this doesn't make sense I'm proud i wrote it down hehe.

[offbrandmercyplates]

Ms. Emmibee makes some Greek God AU Emster comics, so I follow immediately with a fanfic WEEEEE

The title of this post kind of says it all, but hey! I’m Yours The Author, and if Ms. Emmibee will allow it, the following story will be posted on my fanfiction and AO3 accounts, sooner or later. Like the first fanfic I posted here, it combines a few of the comics and even some fan art, to an extent (shout out to amee-racle for the inspiration of one of the scenes here!) into a semi-coherrent story. I originally started with an introduction scene that showed the Kore (Emmi) and Hades (Gaster) seeing but not meeting each other for the first time, but I realized the main scene I wanted to get to could be more concise and still deliver most of the same information, so I did some reworking. I hope you like it! This involves the “pomegranate” comic, mentions some stuff related to the “jewels” comic, and has a reference to amee-racle’s fan art of Kore and Hades with flower crowns! See you at the bottom!

The Meeting and the Benefits of Breaking the Rules of the Underworld

“My name is Kore. I’m the goddess of spring,” the floating humanoid in the long dress stated.

The skeleton god stared at her. “I am Hades, the King of the Underworld.” He looked a little prideful when he said that, but his expression quickly reverted to one of bewilderment. “Now I’ll ask again: how did you get down here?”

“You left the cave open when you came down here,” Kore replied.

“…Oh.” It was silent for a few moments, aside from the distant drips of water from the cave’s ceiling and the breeze Kore naturally stirred. Hades slowly pointed behind her. “The exit is that way.”

“I know.”

“…Then why don’t you leave?”

“I don’t wanna.”

“…Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you.”

“Ah, you’re here on business. Very well; what do you wish to discuss?”

Kore held out her cupped hands. In the light of the crystals hanging from the walls and ceiling, a small pile of jewels glittered in her palms. All sorts of stones, in all sorts of colors. “You’re the one who’s been leaving these for me to find, right?” She asked.

“A-ah…” Hades blushed and tightened his grip on his golden staff. “I just—you—you liked that star sapphire I dropped, so I thought I’d let you find more,” he admitted.

Kore shifted the stones around to examine the smooth blue gem with a white star pattern in the middle. “Well… thank you!” she grinned happily, and Hades quickly adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses.

“Y-you’re welcome…”

“And I have something for you!”

“…You do?”

“Yep! I made this for you!” She put the stones away in the pouch tied to her waist, then lifted the flower crown off of her head and placed it over his own shiny crown of metal.

Hades blinked and lifted the flower crown a bit to inspect it. It was a crown of large roses, alternating between yellow blossoms with red tips and lavender blooms. The woven stems weren’t thorny at all, and they didn’t wilt, suggesting they were made with magic. “…Oh.” He slowly let the crown settle on his head. “…Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!”

It was quiet again. The pink and yellow blossoms woven into Kore’s long and wild locks shed their petals into the breeze, only to regrow and repeat the process. It was a very picturesque scene.

If Hades had lips, he’d probably be biting them nervously. This little goddess was stirring… unnecessary feelings, as well as a breeze. “You should probably go—” he began.

“Got any snacks around here?”

“…Wouldn’t… you rather eat the food from above?”

“I want to try new things.”

“Well…” he thought for a moment, then raised his free hand towards the wall of the cave. It shifted open, revealing a path that led to a garden. Kore floated through the garden, technically impolite for not having waited for permission to enter, but forgiven nonetheless. Hades followed after her. “Many from above believe that no life can exist in the Underworld,” he explained. “This is both true and misleading. Plants that die above ground regrow down here; their life force entwining with the Underworld’s logic. The food in this garden can be eaten by gods and even mortals who live above, bUT–!” He gestured wildly for her to stop.

Kore had picked a shiny red pomegranate and ripped it in half with her bare hands, revealing the glistening seeds. She had been about to dig in, but paused and looked up at him, awaiting an explanation. Hades straightened his long black tunic and tried to look calm. “But you must not eat that pomegranate.”

“Huh?” Kore cocked her head to the side, hovering at eye level. “Why not?”

“The pomegranate is sacred here. It represents the very nature of the Underworld: life,” he gestured to the little spring goddess, “and death,” he put a hand to his sternum. “It is connected to the Underworld, just as I am. If you eat its seeds, you will be bound to the Underworld, and…” he blushed, “to me.”

“Ooooh,” Kore hummed.

“Indeed.”

“…”

Without breaking eye contact, Kore shoveled every seed in both halves of the pomegranate into her mouth. Hades’ jaw dropped open, sputtering sounds barely escaping his teeth as she licked the juice from her fingers, still looking him right in the eye sockets.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” He finally managed.

“You just explained to me what it means.”

“YES, BUT—”

“So when should the wedding be?”

“THE WHAT?!”

Kore pulled some of the flowers out of her hair and began to weave them together as if she didn’t just seal her soul to a cave under the ground. “Oh, can we invite my mother, too? I feel like the Goddess of Nature wouldn’t take kindly to not being invited to her daughter’s wedding.”

“M-mother Nature?”

“Mm.”

“She is going to destroy me…” Hades covered his face with his hands.

Kore finished the new crown and set it on her head: an alternating mix of yellow primroses and pink cherry blossoms. “Don’t worry, I won’t let her. Besides, being a goddess bound to the Underworld doesn’t mean I have to be here all the time, right?”

“Well… technically, but—”

“So I can spend some time above ground and spend the rest of the time with you!”

“I—I! I…”

Kore’s smile grew smaller. “Do you not want to…?”

“No! I mean—I… won’t make a very good husband. I’ll disappoint you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” She hovered next to him and gently bumped his skull with her head. “C’mon, let’s go say hello to your new mother-in-law!”

“This will not end well…”

***

I don’t know much about the logic of eating food from the Underworld in this AU (Hades specifically mentions the significance of the pomegranate, and that had to have come from somewhere), so I went with the concept that plants that die before their time or under specific circumstances can grow and bear fruit in the Underworld, and anyone can eat any of that food /except/ the pomegranates. In reality, you likely can’t eat any food from the Underworld, but it was just a thought.

Hades can open a cave to go back to the Underworld, but sometimes he forgets to close it behind him, hence how Kore got in.

Flower and jewel symbolism:

Roses generally mean affection, but the color of the rose is often extremely important! Yellow roses with red at the tips of the petals represents falling in love, while lavender-colored roses represent love at first sight.

Star sapphires are often called “the stones of destiny”, and can extend mental focus and knowledge.

Sakura blossoms are practically the living symbol of spring and can represent renewal.

Primroses represent young love, and yellow primroses can represent spring and the sun.

Hades’ “I’ll disappoint you” line is based on something similar he says in a Zarla MercyPlates comic, where Papyrus tells him to be good, and Gaster says something like “I’ll try, but I’ll just disappoint you.” Ah… parallels.

Alright, I think that’s everything. Let me know if it’s okay to post these on my fanfiction and AO3 accounts. I’ll see you around! Keep being awesome! ~~~ No YOU keep being awesome!!! This is absolutely lovely hhhhhh

You’re more than welcome to post this on AO3 and FF. I’ll definitely post it here!

Now to respond to the notes!!

The pomegranate thing is great! The pomegranate symbolism from the comic is actually based on its IRL symbolism, which is similar across many cultures (representing life and death, and also love sometimes), and I think your explanation is really cool!

Hades forgetting to close the cave door is a big mood tbh.

I recognized the “I’ll disappoint you” quote and i CRY

Have I mentioned how much I love flower symbolism??? I LOVE how you used that in this!!

Thank you so much!!!!

[xxfanficnationxx]

Lacuna // Teen Wolf Rewrite

Second Chance at First Line Part 3

Masterlist

Last Part

Pairing: Stiles x Reader (Eventually)

Warnings: Physical Violence

A/N: Part 3 it is, Hopefully you enjoy this, i rewrote this episode about a million times, but now it’s in decent shape. Let me know what you think because I think this is my favorite part yet :) (later note: I am SOOOO SORRY this took so long. NGL I had this in my drafts for a while...) but im writing again now that is winter break sooo here you go. 

As Derek's car drives away, Stiles makes his way up the driveway. You all get out of the car, the boys grabbed the shovels.

“Wait, something’s different.” Scott says.

“Yeah, that doesn’t smell right, Scott.” You say, the smell of human blood not apparent.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Scott says as he begins to dig the hole.

You were left with the job of looking out and listening if the car comes back up the driveway.

“This is taking way too long!” Scott says.

“Just keep going.” Stiles says.

“If you would let me help Stiles, I do have super strength.” you say, arms crossed rolling your eyes.

“It’s fine! You don’t need to get your hands dirty.” Stiles replies.

“What if he comes back.” Scott replies.

“Then we get the hell out of here.” Stiles says.

“What if he catches us?” Scott says.

“I have a plan for that.” Stiles says.

“Which is?” Scott asks.

“Y/N runs one way, I run one way, and you run the other way. Whoever he catches first, too bad.” Stiles says.

“I hate that plan” Scott says.

“Can the both of you stop worrying so much. I will let you know if someone’s coming okay. You two reek of misery” you gag.

“Alright Stop, stop, stop” Stiles shovel hits something, they begin to search for what it is.

“Hurry!” Scott says

“I’m trying, but did he have to tie the thing In 900 knots.” Stiles says.

“I’ll do it!” Scott says. As they get it to unravel, the head of a wolf is revealed. You’re standing behind them looking into the hole. Both of the boys scream and jump back hitting you making you scream and fall.

“What the hell is that?!” Stiles screams.

“It’s a wolf!” You say, pushing Stiles off of you, so you can see it better.

“I can see that?!” Stiles retorts, “I thought you smelled blood, as in human blood”

“Told you something was different.” Scott says

“That’s what I smelled.” You says covering your nose.

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Stiles says

“Guys we’ve gotta get out of here it reeks.” That’s when you notice, the aura of the wolf, you can still see it. It’s faint and hardly noticeable but you can see that she felt fear, and betrayal. Tears brim your eyes.

“Okay, help me cover this up.” Stiles looks up, towards a flower.

“What’s wrong.” Scott asks. You look up at the flower too and recognize it.

“You see that flower?” Stiles asks

“What about it?” Scott asks. You sigh, he is so clueless.

“I think it’s -“ stiles starts the sentence.

“Wolfsbane” you say together, you glance at each other. The cold air revealing your breaths.

“What’s that?” Scott says.

“Uh… haven’t you ever seen the Wolf Man?” Stiles asks.

“No..” Scott says. You groan.

“Lon Chaney Jr.” you ask “Claude Rains?” Scott shakes his head

“The original Classic werewolf movie?” Stiles asks, he’s getting worked up.

“No, what??” Scott says.

“You are so unprepared for this.” Stiles says. He gets up and grabs the flower, it starts to spiral around the body. When he was done with it, you looked into the hole

“Stiles” both and and Scott say.

“Holy” Stiles says. You see the girl, you feel her pain. Tears start to silently fall from your eyes.

Stiles places a hand on your back. You close your eyes.

Once Stiles called his dad, it was morning already. Mr. Stilinski, leads Derek out of his house. He locks eyes with you, you feel his betrayal.

You and Scott see Stiles make his way to Derek. He opens the passenger seat to the police car. You focus your hearing on what they are saying.

“Okay, just so you know, I’m not afraid of you.” Stiles says. “Okay maybe I am. Doesn’t matter. I just wanna know something. The girl you killed… she was a were-wolf. She was a different kind, wasn’t she. I mean, she can turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can’t do that, and Y/N is a tiger. Is that why you killed her?”

“Why are you so worried about me when it’s your friends who are the problem. When he shifts on the field, or when she leaves this town because she can’t find anyone else who knows who she is, what do you think they’re going to do… huh? Just keep cheering Scott on? I can’t stop him from playing, but you can. Y/N is a whole other ballgame. She needs me. But looks like you guys messed that up for her.” Derek says.

‘L-leave…’ you think to yourself ‘what does he mean?’

You were too distracted to notice Stiles getting pulled out of the car by his dad. You move towards Scott as Stiles and Noah talk it out.

“Scott…” you say “did you listen in to what they were saying?”

“Yes” he says. Looking away from your face.

“What he said about me. About me needing him, what do I do?” You say. You were scared.

He looks at you, with determination “We will figure it out. Okay?” You nod your head. Stiles walks over to the two of you, You all get inside the car and start your journey out of the woods.

“I can’t find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial, or anything for Y/N’s… issues” Scott looks at you, uncomfortable with the subject obviously. You sigh.

“Just keep looking, maybe it’s like a ritual or something, like they bury you as a wolf. Or maybe it’s like a special skill you know, like something you have to learn.” Stiles says.

“I’ll put it on my to do list right underneath figuring out how I’m playing this game tonight.” Scott says

“Maybe it’s different for girl were-wolves, or… were-tigers.” Stiles glances at you 

You begin to breath hard, it felt like that night when you walked into the party, you ad a huge headache. 

You start to breathe heavy, Scott looks at you and Stiles gulps loudly.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Stiles asks “Scott?”

You held the backpack on your lap

“No, no I’m not I’m so far from being okay.” Scott yells.

“You know you’re going to have to accept this sooner or later.” Stiles says.

You felt like you were going pass out, you were breathing so hard.

Stiles starts to lose control of the Jeep as Scott is hyperventilating. You can feel your claws digging into the backpack.

“Pull over” Scott says

“Why what’s happening?” Stiles asks.

Scott grabs the backpack from you and opens it, “you kept it!?” Scott screams. He looks up to you and immediately begins to worry for you.

“What was I supposed to do with it?!” Stiles says.

“Stop the car.” Scott says. Your eyes start to shut slowly, all you wanted to do was sleep, that is until you’re thrown forward from the brakes of the Jeep. You didn’t even notice that your teeth and eyes were changed.

Stiles gets out and throws the backpack into the woods, you were hanging over the passenger seat, you throw your legs over as Scott gets out. You gently fall into a deep sleep. You couldn’t even think about what else was happening in the outside world.

The next thing you remember, you were being dragged out of the car by Stiles. You were still pretty loopy, you lift your head and make eye contact with, “Stiles, woah, what are you doing!” you laugh and snort. He pulls your legs out “Weeeee!” you say.

He smiles, “Come on, lets get you inside.” He puts one of your arms over his shoulders and start to walk to your house. 

“When did we get here?” you laugh. He goes to open the door, though it’s locked.

“Where are your keys?” He asks. You pull your arm away and go digging in your pockets and find your keys and attempt to unlock the door, but you drop them. He grabs them and opens the door, replacing your arm around your shoulder. He begins to take you to your room, though as you were passing the kitchen Stiles stops. 

“Ummm, Hello Stiles” Your aunt says, she was in the middle of making her dinner for work. Her eyes are wide looking at your loopy form.

“Auntie!” you say getting excited. 

“She’s not feeling well, I was just going to take her to her room.” He smiles, awkwardly and stumbles with you bringing you to your room. He lays you down on your bed, and begins to take off your shoes. “I’m going to go see if I can help Scott,” He grabs your keys and take the moped keys off the key ring, “I will tell Scott to drive the moped there.” He takes one last look at you, pulling the cover over yourself as you start to fall asleep again. 

After an hour or two you wake up, headache like you couldn’t believe. everything came flowing back to you, ‘I cant believe Stiles had to take me home.’ you groan ‘Oh god, Auntie.” you go to call your auntie, until you see that she had texted you.

Dear lord... You’re never going to live this down. From either of them. 

You remember about the big game tonight, you start to pull yourself together. “It’s time to support my boys.”

You felt a little bit extra, so you started to pull things from the back of your closet. Here we go. 

You walked onto the field, you saw Alison in the stands with Lydia. Stiles looked at you, his mouth slightly open with worry. You smile and wave, and walk towards the girls.

“Hi, my name’s Y/N, are you Allison’s father?” You ask with the nicest smile you can wear.

“Yes, hello, you can call me Argent.” He shakes your hand. You sit in between them.

‘Argent...’

You can feel that Scott’s changed, his heart is beating out of his chest. You look to Stiles, he’s scared.

Scott calms a bit, then shoots the ball into the net, everyone went crazy, people flying out of the stands. I went straight to finding Stiles.

“Yes! Oh my god” Stiles screamed. You found him and hugged him. Taking in his scent, you were purely focused on hugging him]. He held onto you, then pulled away a smile on his lips.

Noah was on the phone next to us. Stiles looks to him, “Dad, what’s wrong?”

Noah looked at us holding his hand out, telling us to wait. He walks up to us, “The medical examiner looked at the other half, she said the cause of death was by animal. Plus the ID of the dead girl was revealed to be Derek's sister, Laura Hale, Derek's getting released.”

You and Stiles looked at each other, that’s when you realized, Scott!

Both of you ran towards the school into the locker room. As you step in you see Allison and Scott kissing.

“Oh god…” Stiles says. You grab his hand, pulling him back behind the lockers

“I gotta get back to my dad” says Allison she starts to walk away. “Hi Stiles, Y/N.” She looks at you and giggles. You raise your hand up to your ear and mouth ‘call me’. You couldn’t wait to hear the details. 

She leaves and Scott come up so us. “I kissed her” he says with a goofy smile.

“I saw” Stiles says. Scott looks down at our hands. And you immediately pull your hand away and awkwardly smile.

“She kissed me” Scott says.

“Saw that too” you say. “Pretty good huh?”

He looks at you with a smile. “I-I-I-I don’t know how, but I controlled it. I pulled it back.” Scott says. “Maybe I can do this, maybe it’s not that bad.”

“Maybe we can do this” you say to him, grabbing his hand.

“We’ll talk later then.” Stiles grabs you and is about to turn around.

Scott grabbed Stiles. “What is it?”

That’s when you broke the news to Scott about the medical examiner and Derek getting released. Maybe it’s not going to be so easy after all.

Part 3, the last part for this episode! let me know what you think will happen next. 

Taglist:  @bolaurel​ @iclosetgeek​ @cutiepiemimi13​ @stilessarcasmqueen @michellebarista​ @my-suga-kookies​

[mojific]

That Old Thing Back

“Oi there, Loh Loh!”

“Why so glum, chum?!”

Peyton Royce and Billie Kaye, collectively known as “The IICONICS”, playfully prodded their friend backstage.

Shiloh Campbell—fellow WWE talent, former model, and part-time lifestyle vlogger—tries to throw them off his sad-sack scent. “What, me? I’m fine.” His lifeless shrug wouldn’t convince a jury of his peers. “Just because I’m not bouncing off the walls like you two doesn’t mean I’m glum?” He throws in a half smile for good measure.

The leggy, beautiful Australians look at one another with skeptical squints.

“What do you reckon, Peyton? Do we believe him?”

Royce sighs dramatically. “I don’t knoooow Billie...Would our Shi-Shi lie to our faces like that?”

“Well you know what he’s like when he’s got to talk about his FWEEL-LINGS...”

“Yeeeeah, he’s no good at that, is he?”

Campbell rolls his at them talking about him as if he isn’t standing there watching their famed double act. They didn’t make girls like them in his native New Orleans, or in his adopted home of Los Angeles, or in the hundreds of towns and cities he’d visited in his years with the company. They were uniquely and unequivocally Aussie. For that and many other reasons, he loved them to death. But they were right, per usual: he had no intention of talking about the tumult he was feeling inside with them or anyone else. “GIRLS, I’m. FINE.”

The IICONICS observe him like two doctors assessing a patient. “What’d ya make of that, B?”

“Well P, I reckon that’s...”

They turn to one another again and then back at him. “BULLSHIT,” they say in tandem.

Shiloh, as stubborn as he is snarky, folds his arms and turns his head away from them defiantly.

“Creasing up your fancy Fashion Nova tank there, Loh Loh,” Royce says while playfully backhanding one of his toned bare arms.

The fashionista in him triggered, Campbell cuts his eyes at her as only a black boy from the American South can. “Excuse you? Fashion Nova? PRA-DA, honey—PRADA. Spring/Summer. Take it in.”

“‘Prada, honey, take it in!’” Billie restates mockingly. “There’s a boy! There’s that fire! Now tell your very best friends in the entire world what’s crawled up your bum.”

“PUH-LEEEEEZE lets have it out already,” Peyton adds.

After another ten or so seconds, Loh drops his arms and lets out a belabored sigh. Together with his youthful visage (he was only twenty-four and still got carded whenever he bought alcohol) and pouting lips, the nervous foot stomp he couldn’t stop himself from doing made him look like the most petulant of teenagers. “FI-NAH! But you two have to—“ He stops mid sentence when he sees Dana Brooke looking at him curiously. “Put it on the ‘Gram, sweetie. It’ll last longer,” he snaps sarcastically at her. Brooke makes a face and stops staring. “You two, let’s go...somewhere.” He grabs each of his girlfriends’ hands and leads them away from prying eyes.

“‘Put it on the ‘Gram’!” Kaye chuckles.

“Hi-lare!” Royce agrees.

Once they’re safely recessed in a corner, Shiloh continues. “You two have to keep this between us. You cannot tell ANYONE.” He holds up a nicely manicured pinky. “SWEAR IT.” He points it at Royce, who meets it with her own, then Kaye, who does the same.

“SPILL,” the Aussies say.

“I...I’ve been feeling some...things. Like...old...things. Things I swore to the gay gods I’d never let myself feel again...”

Peyton gasps. “It’s a booooooy! It’s Ricochet isn’t it?”

“What? No! We look like brothers and I don’t do that gay twin bullshit.”

Billie continues the guessing game. “Okay, okay—you said ‘old thing’, so...” She thumps her fingers together in concentration. “...Sami?! Oh my gosh, I loved you two together and I didn’t even know you then!”

Campbell shakes his head. “Not that old. Not that Sami’s ‘old’, I don’t mean it that way. They’re basically the same age—“

“Oh...well it’s not Randy then,” Royce interjects. “He’s old as dirt.”

“RUDE,” Billie exclaims. “But true.”

Shiloh rolls his eyes again. “Are you two serious? You really don’t know?”

“Weeeee really don’t, Shi Shi,” Peyton says flatly. Billie just blinks at him.

Loh is gobsmacked. “I never told you? You never heard the rumors? How could—“

“Come on, you—out with it,” Kaye says with a “hurry up” hand motion.

Shiloh struggles to allow his mouth to form the word. He’d somehow gone more than a year without speaking the man’s name, even with him being one of the biggest stars in their business. “Rmmnn...” he mumbles imperceptibly.

“‘Ramon’?” Peyton asks incredulously. “From creative? You saucy thing! No wonder you always get the best storylines—“

“ROMAN,” he hisses just loud enough for the three of them to hear.

“Reigns?!”

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

War of Attrition: Chapter 12

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Reader Summary: Best friends with Steve Rogers, renowned Howling Commando, and married to one James Buchanan Barnes, your life wasn’t perfect, but it was as close as it could possibly be in the middle of World War II. Then you fell from a train in the Alps, and everything changed. You spent nearly 70 years as a tool of Hydra alongside your beloved, though your past with him was more often than not forgotten. Puerto Rico turns out to be a little more than you bargained for. You need to make sure Bucky gets the important files, but can you see him after everything and still walk away? Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of torture and death Word Count: ~4,015 A/N: Weeeee  (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

Masterlist // Book One // Book Two

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

“You’re a peach, Alfred,” you said, already gunning the engine to speed down the freeway.

“Always a pleasure to assist you, ma’am,” the AI said quietly.

You smiled and patted the dash affectionately. “Let’s go see the lord of the house, shall we?”

“I can hardly contain my excitement,” was Alfred’s dry, almost sarcastic response. Maybe you should have lightened up on the snark when you created him.

The rest of the trip to Puerto Rico was largely uneventful. Alfred’s directions kept you clear of any law enforcement or suspect individuals. You stopped in a random grocery store in Miami and grabbed enough food to last you through the trip to the island.

The boat had been a little ostentatious for your liking, but you weren’t going anywhere without Alfred and the Batmobile, not when you had no backup and your workshop was still packed up in Indiana. You’d have to upgrade it with flight capabilities at some point so you could drive it over the ocean. Boats were annoying to take care of and you knew you’d be selling this one as soon as you were done with it.

It wasn’t until you could see the island that it hit you.

You were going to see Bucky again.

You’d watched him on screens over the past few months. Kept close tabs on him. Even had to pick up and move once when he got too close to your hiding spot.

But you hadn’t looked him in the eye since the day you left all those months ago. Hadn’t felt the warmth of his skin against yours. Hell, until today you hadn’t touched another person in months... unless you were killing them. You had half a mind to turn the boat around and run away like the coward you were, but the information you had was too important. Bucky needed to know. It was his right as much as yours.

It would be simple. Go in, drop the file in a place he’d find it, make it out before he noticed your presence. Alfred was keeping tabs on Bucky, unbeknownst to your husband. He was good, but you knew how he worked. You doubted anyone but yourself knew where he was. Not even Steve or Natalia would be able to find him, no matter how hard they dug.

You docked in the space Alfred told you to and drew more than a few looks as you rolled out of the marina in the Batmobile. “Alright, buddy. Find me a place to drop the package,” you said as you idled at a stoplight.

“One moment, please. Searching for a suitable drop site.”

“Maybe calculate some quick escape routes through the city while you’re at it, just in case,” you said, eyeing the people passing by on foot and in their cars warily. You hated new places. Hated old places, too. Maybe you just hated everything, or perhaps there was a small area between those two wherein existed places you didn’t hate.

“I have found a suitable location to leave the file for discovery by Master Barnes. I advise haste to the site, as Sir’s behavior patterns tend to not hold a pattern at all and it is unlikely I will be able to find another suitable location before the day ends if we miss this one.”

“Got it, Alfred. Throw it up on the screen and take the wheel while I review it,” you said, pulling your hands off the steering wheel as Alfred took over driving. Turns out Bucky was on his way to a little farmer’s market on the north side of town. He was on foot, which didn’t surprise you much. You hadn’t caught him using motorcycles or cars while you’d been separated. You didn’t want to dwell too much on the possible implications of that, the guilt twisting low in your stomach unbidden.

“I suggest parking in the garage a few blocks over. The appearance of the Batmobile will only draw unwanted attention,” Alfred reasoned.

You groaned, biting your lip as you thought it over. Alfred was right, of course. The moment Bucky caught sight of the Batmobile the jig would be up. You still had to escape back to your boat and that’s be a lot more difficult if Bucky tilted the Batmobile on its side.

You really needed to get those flight functions installed.

“I’m going in undercover, Alfred. Nanomask, nanoskin. I’ll leave the file where I know he’ll find it and observe from a distance, ensure he receives the package.”

“(Y/N), there’s been a new development,” Alfred informed you warily.

You groaned. That tone never meant anything good for you. “What is it, Alfred?”

“It appears SHIELD activity in the area has increased since we made landfall.”

You frowned. “Are they after us?” you asked, already slipping back into combat mode. The icy coldness that instantly wormed its way into your bones scared you. How easy it was to slip back into the ruthless efficiency of The Soldier when you were in danger.

“It does not appear they are aware of our presence,” Alfred informed you carefully. You knew he was monitoring your vitals closely enough to recognize the change. “They are gathered around ruins in the south of the city... From what I can gather it appears that it is Coulson and his team.”

You groaned and thumped your head forward onto the steering wheel. “They’re in trouble, aren’t they?” you murmured, already knowing Alfred’s answer. Where Coulson and his team went, trouble sure well followed.

“Yes, (Y/N). Should I set a course for their location?” Alfred asked, tone neutral.

You glanced at the folder on the seat beside you for a long moment, torn. Finally you cursed and nodded. Bucky waited this long. He could wait a few hours more for you to help Coulson and his merry band of fucking idiots. “Turn the car around, Alfred. We have damsels in distress to save.”

Puerto Fucking Rico. You should have just turned your damn boat around the second you made port. Maybe given Bucky a heads up you were coming so he was waiting on the docks for you and peaced out you the moment he step foot on your ship. Hell, if you had your way you wouldn’t even stop, just trust in his ability to jump onboard as you sped by.

“We have to go, Triplett. Now,” you gritted out, staring at the large cylindrical room Skye had just disappeared into with a woman you didn’t recognize.

“Not without Skye!” Triplett said, banging against the thick, solid stone as though it’d make a difference. “Don’t you- don’t you have something that can break through these walls?” he asked, sparing you only a glance.

You looked up at the ancient ceiling and grimaced. “Not anything that wouldn’t also bring the whole thing down on us. I know she’s a good agent, a good person, but I’m not looking to die today,” you muttered. I have better things to be doing right now, you thought bitterly. That was perhaps a bit unfair. From what you could glean, whatever SHIELD was doing here was important.

“We can’t just stay here with our thumbs up our-” he froze as the ground began to shake. And the walls. And the ceiling.

You watched in horror as a long crack ran up the side of the room. Even more branched out from the center room to create a web-like pattern on the ceiling and walls around.

“Run,” you whispered, eyes dropping to Triplett in horror. “Run!” you yelled, already turning on your heel to make a break for the exit you saw earlier. You weren’t getting fucking buried under tons of rock today. You didn’t make it through World War II and 70 years of brainwashing just to die to some damn rocks... that you shouldn’t even be having to deal with if SHIELD could just get its goddamned shit together!

You ran slow enough for Triplett to keep up and had half a mind to throw him over your shoulder in a fireman’s carry, knowing you’d get the two of you there faster. The only problem was the somewhat narrow hallways.

It didn’t seem to be a problem, though. The earthquake died down, leaving the tunnels only partially collapsed, especially close to the chamber.

“Skye,” Triplett whispered, staring down the hallway towards the chamber where she’d disappeared. He made to run back to her, but your firm hand on his shoulder froze him in his tracks. “Get off of me!” he said angrily, jerking away from your touch.

Your gaze turned a little icy as you regarded him. “I know you want to go to her, but we don’t know if the tunnels are stable. You have people up there that have no idea what’s happening. If you go after her now half-cocked you could get yourself killed. Possibly the agents that come after you, too, if they don’t know what they’ll be walking into. Yes, you should try to save her, but not if even more people get killed in the process. You don’t even know what or who is waiting for you in that room.”

Triplett’s jaw worked as he stared at you. Finally, he relaxed a slight bit and walked towards the entry room that had the rope they used to get in and out of the city. “Grandpa always said you were even more reckless than Captain America. Guess he was wrong,” he said, though it didn’t sound like a condemnation.

“I was young and foolish then. Now that I’m in my twilight years I found that wisdom really does come with age,” you said dryly.

Triplett looked up at you as he hooked himself up to the rope pulley system, looking conflicted. “Thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here. I hope Skye’s okay, but if something bad happened in that chamber-” he paused and took a deep breath. “Just, thank you. Can you get out alright?” he asked as he gave the rope a sharp tug.

You jumped, letting your rockets boost you all the higher, and dug your talons into the thick rock. “I’ll manage. Good luck rescuing Skye, Triplett,” you said, already clawing your way up the hole.

It was so dark that you lost sight of Triplett within a minute, but that didn’t stop you from hearing his whispered but heartfelt “You too, Misses Barnes,” as you clambered upwards.

Fitz-Simmons was waiting at the top of the shaft. It was obvious from their slack-jawed expressions they hadn’t been expecting you or known you were down there to begin with.

You groaned and stretched your limbs, thankful to be out of the damn alien city. It messed with your electronics something fierce and your legs hadn’t worked quite right the entire time. Your hands’ wiring hadn’t been responsive at all.

“Triplett’s on his way up. Now, if you don’t mind, I have somewhere to be,” you muttered, giving Fitz a friendly pat on the cheek and Simmons a playful, mocking salute before you walked out of the room, leaving them gaping in your wake.

“Did we miss the window, Alfred?” you asked the moment you were back into the Batmobile. You’d parked it well over a mile away. The walk had been ass, but you weren’t chancing any of the bullshit SHIELD seemed to attract. Not with your masterpiece.

“Affirmative, (Y/N). But you should be pleased to know I have found another opportunity.”

“Really? You’re the best, Alfred. What’s the plan?” you asked, already moving to buckle up.

“Wait,” Alfred said. You waited for him to elaborate further, but when he didn’t you frowned and leaned forward slightly.

“Whaddya mean?” you asked, confused.

“The opportunity has come to us,” Alfred said quietly. You had barely a moment to wonder at what he meant before a soft tap at your window startled you so badly you nearly screamed.

Your head whipped to the side and you stopped breathing.

James Buchanan Barnes was standing just outside, bright blue eyes squinted slightly as though it would help him see through the tinting on your windows (it would not).

Your pulse raced in your veins and it took you a second to remember how to breathe. He looked just like you remembered, but also different. His facial hair had grown out a bit, leaving him with a short, scruffy beard that hid his cleft chin and the sharp line of his jaw. His long hair was tucked behind his ears and half-hidden by a baseball cap. He was wearing a holey long sleeved shirt and gloves.

He looked amazing. Your memories and dreams and 2D images could never do him justice.

Color and feeling came slamming back into you in an unstoppable wave, washing through your unprepared mind like a tsunami through a coastal town. How had you not noticed the world had gone so grey around the edges? Had you really not realized that sights and smells had begun fading away to nothingness?

Bucky Barnes brought life to your existence, even now. Even with a piece of glass and a mask between you.

How stupid you’d been to leave him.

But you’d do anything to keep him safe.

Including leaving him again.

Apparently you’d been frozen long enough because he raised his hand and rapped his knuckles gently against the missile-proof glass again. You took one look in the mirror to ensure your mask was in place, displaying the face of another woman, before you rolled the window down slowly.

“Hey there, handsome. Are you the one I’m supposed to meet here?” you asked coyly, voice altered by the mask.

Bucky frowned slightly, though he looked more hurt than anything else. “Please don’t,” he whispered, sounding wrecked.

Your heart constricted painfully in your chest. You reached for the file and held it out between you. “Sorry if you don’t like the news I’m givin’ ya, sweetheart. I only get paid to deliver-”

“Stop,” he rasped. Pleaded. His grey-blue eyes bored into you, a window to his soul. He was hurting so, so badly.

And you’d done that to him.

“I’ve been watching you since you left the site that was crawling with SHIELD. Even with whatever tech you have disguising your face and cybernetics I know you. Not to mention I can hear your metal legs. They clink and whirr ever so softly whenever you move,” he whispered, giving you a sad smile. “Please don’t treat me like a fool.”

You grimaced as tears threatened to spill. “I’m sorry, Bucky. I- Please, get in. We’re in danger out in the open like this,” you whispered, your fear and sadness sounding odd in a voice that wasn’t your own. You didn’t want to show both of your faces in the same place so you’d wait until he was inside to take the mask off.

He stared at you for a long moment. “Will you take off the second I step away from your window?” he asked, voice almost accusing.

You shook your head quickly, pleading with him with your eyes. That hurt, but you deserved it. Deserved all of his anger and distrust. He stared at you a second longer before he walked around to the other side of the car and slipped inside. The moment he was in, you turned off the nano mask and slipped it from your face.

“Alfred, surveillance and guardian mode, please,” you said quietly.

“At once, Mistress Barnes. Additionally, it is a pleasure to finally meet you, Master Barnes,” the AI said quietly, sensing the gravity of the situation between the two of you.

Bucky stared at the dashboard as though it’d grown a goat head and started singing the Russian national anthem at him.

You wanted to smile at his reaction, but the current atmosphere just wouldn’t allow it. “That’s Alfred, my AI. He helps me monitor... well, everything.”

“Everything... including me?” he asked, blue eyes sharp as he looked over at you.

“That is correct, Mister Barnes. Misses Barnes requested that I keep an eye on you at all times. It is thanks to her programming that I am able to perform such a monumental task, as you are quite adept at avoiding nearly all forms of surveillance. I fear without her input such a feat would have been impossible,” Alfred informed him.

Bucky’s eyes clouded over for a moment and didn’t clear when he looked up at you. “So you knew where I was? This whole time?” he asked.

His voice was immeasurably sad. It was the worst. You wanted him to yell at you. Cuss you out. Tell you he never wanted to see you again. Anger. Hate. Rage. You could take all of that and not even blink because you knew you deserved it, but the way he was looking at you just then, as though you’d just ripped his heart out with your bare hands? That was torture. What made it absolutely unbearable, though, was that, behind all that hurt, you could see the love in his eyes.

You didn’t have an answer. At least, not one that justified what you’d done. How foolish you’d been. How tremendously stupid. What was the point of being free if you couldn’t be with your heart?

“I’ll spend the rest of my life apologizing for leaving you, Buck, but there’s somethin’ you gotta see first,” you said, holding the file out to him once more.

His eyes searched your face as he slowly reached for the file. For what, you didn’t know.

“I was lookin’ high and low for- well, you’ll see. I finally found a lead thanks to Pegs, but-” your voice died in your throat as the images in the file flashed in your mind’s eye. You didn’t have to look at the papers anymore. You’d long memorized every word, every grain of each picture.

Bucky eyed you warily, sensing your distress. He flipped the file open and his eyes immediately began scanning them. The furrow in his brow grew the longer he read until, at last, he got to the pictures. His face darkened immediately and you watched as tears fell onto the old pages. He raised his right hand and hastily wiped them away, but they just kept coming.

“So you found ‘im,” Bucky finally managed to get out between near-silent sobs.

You nodded as tears filled your eyes. “I had to tell ya in person.”

“S’that why you were trying to run away a minute ago?” he said, bitterness creeping into his voice.

You winced and curled in on yourself, ashamed. “You caught me off guard, s’all,” you murmured weakly.

Bucky frowned and closed the file slowly, turning his gaze on you. You felt like you were being zeroed in on by two huge spotlights and turned away, unable to meet his eyes.

You were surprised when you felt his large hands wrap around you and pull you gently but unerringly into his lap. You squirmed, knowing his gentle, kind touch was too good for you. Then he shushed you gently, his lips barely an inch from your ear. His right hand ran gently over your hair, slow and soothing, and you stilled immediately.

“I didn’t know how else to keep you safe, Buck,” you muttered brokenly.

Bucky inhaled deeply and let it out in a long sigh, but he wasn’t tense. In fact, he seemed the opposite. You’d melted into his touch and he’d done the same, nearly all tension leaving his body in the safety of this relatively safe space.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” he said, barely above a whisper. His chest rumbled with the words, sending a shiver down your spine. Although his voice was carefully controlled, his turmoil screamed in the way he clutched tightly at you as though you’d vanish if he didn’t touch every inch of you that he possibly could. He breathed your scent in deeply with every breath, eyes shut as he mouthed feather-light kisses onto your exposed skin. “No point in bein’ safe if I can’t be with you,” he said quietly, but with a firmness that couldn’t be denied.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, clutching tightly at him.

“Don’t, Doll. Don’t apologize. Just promise me,” he whispered, taking your face between his hands. You leaned into the touch of his warm right hand and brought your right hand up to cup his left gently.

You closed your eyes and nodded against his palms, biting back tears. “I promise, Buck. I won’t leave you again. It’ll be you and me, like it was since the day I met you,” you whispered, finally opening your eyes to stare at his blue-grey ones.

You both leaned forward at the same time, lips touching tenderly together. The kiss was like coming home after a long day and you couldn’t help but smile into the simple touch, so much better than you remembered.

Finally, you broke away after what could have been seconds or minutes and nearly began crying at the look on his face. So open and loving as though the last 70 years hadn’t happened. Like you’d never been kidnapped back in the 40′s. Like you were just a dame and he was just a guy.

“I love you, James Buchanan Barnes,” you whispered reverently, using your thumb to gently wipe the remnants of his tears from his face.

He caught your hand and planted a gentle kiss to your palm, his eyes fluttering closed for the briefest of moments, his eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. When he opened his eyes again your breath caught in your throat. God, but he was stunning.

“I love you, too, (Y/N) (Y/M/N) Barnes.”

Nothing would ever be right again, not after everything the two of you had been through.

But perhaps, reunited once more, you might have the will to continue existing until you learned how to live again.

“Alfred, take us home,” you whispered to the AI.

“At once, madam,” Alfred responded instantly. The car turned on almost silently and began moving out of the garage, driven by Alfred. You had the best seat in the house and you weren’t planning on moving until it was time to leave the car.

“Where is home?” Bucky asked when he finally managed to pull his lips from the skin of your neck.

You smiled and carded your fingers lightly through his long hair. “Indiana.”

Bucky stared at you for a long second, more than one expression flicking across his face before it settled on surprise. “Indiana? As in-”

“Shelbyville, yeah,” you said quietly.

Bucky blinked a few times. His gaze clouded over for a minute before, “I was born there,” he said, half question, half statement.

“Yeah, Buck. You were,” you said quietly, giving him what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Moved to New York before I started grade school. Rebecca was only a year old,” Bucky said quietly, lost in the memories.

“That’s right, Buck,” you said quietly, rubbing slow circles into his back.

“I don’t remember it. Indiana,” he breathed, looking confused for a moment. “Don’t think I ever remembered it, though,” he said, though he sounded unsure.

You carefully brushed some of his hair from his face and placed a kiss to his forehead. “Not much to remember anyway. I hope you like corn,” you said, trying for some levity.

It worked, more or less. Bucky’s lip quirked up at the corner, though his smile was more of a grimace. “We’re not gonna stay there though, are we?” he asked knowingly.

You shook your head slowly. You hadn’t wanted to talk about this just yet, but he knew you too well for your own good. “Only for a few days. I’m... we’re not done yet,” you said, nodding your head towards the file that Bucky had carefully stowed on the dash.

Bucky’s gaze turned hard. Determined. There was absolutely zero hesitation when he looked expectantly at you. God, you did not deserve this man. “What’s the plan, Doll?”

Next Chapter

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[tarisilmarwen]

“Kindred” Liveblog

Super late, ‘cause I was unholy busy last week.  But I finally got a chance to sit down and get caught up so here we are.

Anyway, let’s go Loth-wolves.

Ah yes, Kanan and Hera get to have a moment.  Lovely.

“Are you saying we were meant to come here?  Maybe to meet Ezra?“

Well it would be a very logical machination of the Force.  :)

Weeeee… didn’t get a fanfare.  Okay.  I’m nervous.

Ngft, if Thrawn could stop being creepy for like two seconds I would really appreciate it.

Thrawn and Pryce having some tension there.  Seems their partnership is becoming a little strained.

Loth-kitty!

Oh Hi Warwick Davis.  Got a lovely creepy guttural voice for Ruhk there I see.

Hoo boy.

Yeah okay that’s creepy.

Like the gait of a giant feline padding after its prey.

I don’t think shooting Ruhk would end any better than whatever Ezra’s planning, Jai.

Yeah, didn’t think so.  Ruhk can smell Zeb all over you, Ezra.

Oh ho ho shit Ezra used the Force, now Ruhk is gonna be relentless.

Go away Pryce, leave my son alone.

LOLOL.  Go Zeb.

Ah and here is the fraught conversation preview clip.

Kanera shippers must be so frustrated at this point.

Why do they never check for bugs?

Hera’s gonna take the ship isn’t she?  I mean we saw her deliver the transponder to Yavin and then return with X-wings to Lothal.

Ruhk and Pryce spatting like hissy cats at each other.

Pryce is like, “Screw you, I’m Thrawn’s favorite.”

And Ruhk is all, “Bitch, get back to me when he’s using your name as an override code.”

Splitting the party again.

AHHHH!

OMG!

Seriously?  Really?

Okay, Now Or Never Kiss for Kanera.  Good for you two!

…Please don’t kill off Kanan after this.

Please for once let my genre-savvy be wrong.

They… they installed building docks around Lothal.

WHY ARE THERE BUILDING DOCKS AROUND LOTHAL?!

Oh gosh I knew it, Death Star components are being assembled here.

Follow the wolves!

Kanan trusts Ezra of course.

“How have you people stayed alive so long?!“  Lol Ryder.

Ha ha, Pryce is still bitching at Ruhk.

Hera’s awesome moment heck yes.

The wolves have called a conference and you are invited.

Beastmaster Ezra.

I know the voice of that bomber, I swear I do.  Who is she?

The wolves wanna talk to Kanan.  Okay.

Oh, we’re gonna go in the caves.

Filoni, uh… I know it’s a little late but… do you accept bribes?

I will literally pay to not stress me out with all this uncertainty.

Delving into Lothal mythology.  Cool cool.

I’m still stressed.

I have no idea where this is going and it’s killing me.

Did… we lose Ryder somewhere?

Oh there he is.

Aww wolfy friend!

He just wants to hold hands.  (Tails, whatever.)

MMGH!

EZRA AND SABINE ARE HOLDING HANDS AGAIN.

Okay, there’s no way it’s not deliberate at this point, Sabine was behind Kanan.

Oooh!  Whatsat.

Holy cats this is beautiful.

Are we like… deep-connecting directly to the Force.

Well we’re out, in any case.

Awwwwww!  Loth-kitty!

Orrrr… we’re not out?

This is trippy.

I’m so confused.

Where are we?

Kanan lingered to talk to the wolves I see.

“Caleb Dume“ namedrop.

Things being set up for the mysterious finale I’ll bet.

Oh gosh I’m so nervous.

Please be kind to my Jedi babies, Filoni.

[imagineyourstars]

＼(^^)／weeeee it's my birthday soon ww. Can I get a birthday scenerio with Tori? Thanks ヾ(･ω･`)ﾉ

it’s here !!!! it’s finally here !!!!! i really hope you like it !!! it was the first time i wrote a scenario for Tori lmao so i wasn’t super happy with how it came out and ??? i ended up rewriting it several times ??? birthday requests will be the death of me i’m already late for adonis and midori’s birthday sweats nervously  - mod mademoiselle

There’s one thing Tori is terribleat.

Sure, he’s talented, super cute, andhe always knows what to do to get youto spoil him rotten. His social skills are a bit… lacking sometimes, butnothing age and experience can’t fix ! But there’s something he absolutelycan’t do. Something that’s just impossible for him.

Tori can’t keep a secret.

He’d been super enthusiastic for thepast week, giggling and clinging to you constantly. While it wasn’t so unusualin and of itself, he’d get really fidgety whenever you’d ask him why he was insuch a good mood. Or he’d blush profusely while asking what exactly you wouldwant as a gift, “but you know, it’s justa question ! I-I’m not going to buy you anything, really !”

Yeah, he’d been planning something.Your birthday was coming soon, so you weren’t surprised, but you still found itpretty endearing. He was overexcited already ! Maybe it’s because he’s alwayslonely… He does tend to put you on a pedestal, too. So you knew for sure he’dgot something ready when you arrived to his mansion, right on time, at 3 PM.But well, you never thought he’d go thatfar.

You stated your name after ringing the intercom, and smiled nervously at the security camera right above the gate toTori’s house. Soon enough, it opened and a smiling Yuzuru greeted you.

“Welcome to the Himemiya mansion. Ihope you feel fine today. If you would please follow me…” He guided you throughthe gardens, trying his best to make you more relaxed with small talk. As usual,you were a bit nervous… Why is everything so formal here ? It’s notunpleasant, but it always takes a little moment for you to get used to it.Tori’s house is so big and fancy and… covered in balloons and party decorations?

You stopped right before the mainentrance, puzzled as to why someonefelt the need to put flowers and balloons everywhere, including where they shouldn’t be for securityreasons. It kind of looked like a very enthusiastic three-year-old wasresponsible for the decoration today. The colors were bright, cheery andabsolutely mismatched too. You could only try your best to suppress yourlaughter, while Yuzuru looked as serene as usual, holding the door open for youto step inside…

… and you were immediately greetedby a giggling Tori, jumping in your arms as soon as he saw your face peeringinside. Was he waiting right behind the door ?

“You came, you came~ ! I’m so happy ! Look, look, Igot everything ready for you !” He was practically screaming inyour ear, holding you so tight you couldn’t breathe. Right when you thought youwere going to drop him, he jumped down, smiling brightly before getting on histiptoes and kissing your cheek. You could only smile in your turn at such awarm welcome.

“What do you mean, you got everythingready ? Did you…” He nodded already, gesturing for you to follow him.Before you could even finish your sentence, he was gone, bouncing happily witheach step. He looked even more enthusiastic than you, actually !

You followed him along a corridorand eventually stepped into a small dining room, haphazardly decorated withmore colorful balloons and a large banner that read “Happy Birthday !” Yourname was written in bright red paint, and the banner looked like it washandmade. On second thought, judging by the paint splotches here and there, itwas definitely handmade. Tori wasbouncing on his feet, excitedly waiting for your reaction.

“So ? So ? It’s great, right ?” He looked super proud of himself, and beamed when you kissed himgently, patting his head to congratulate him.

“Yes, it is ! Did you make all that by yourself ?” Tori nodded at your question, a self-sufficient pout slowly forming onhis lips.

“Of course ! It was not hard at all ! I did just fine!” Yuzuru was smiling politely when he leaned down to very audibly whisper in your ear.

“Young master actually had quite a lot of… unforeseen accidents, but he did his very best for your sake. I hope you appreciate hisefforts.” You chuckled, trying to imagine all the disasters andmayhem Tori could have caused while trying to get everything ready.

“Hey, Yuzuru ! Stop it ! You didn’t even help thatmuch, you’re not allowed to complain !” Tori wassulking, half because of his butler’s impromptu comment and half because yourattention was no longer on him for a couple seconds. “Besides, I didn’t mess up the cake too much ! It tastes just fine !”

The cake ? Your attention wassuddenly caught by a small table, on which was proudly displayed a mess of acake. It was three stories high but leaned dangerously to the right, with messyicing and what was supposed to be a small almond paste sculpture of you on top.

“Oh, right, the cake. It’s… it looks delicious, Tori !” He smiled brightly at your comment, visibly relieved you liked it.Yuzuru was still smiling, as politely as ever, but you could just read thesnark in his eyes.

“I made some snacks too, just in case you feel likeeating something more… palatable, shall we say ?” Anothertable was covered in cupcakes, parfaits and various assorted sweets, lookingmuch prettier than Tori’s cake, you had to admit. Said Tori puffed up hischeeks, eyes throwing daggers at Yuzuru.

“Stop it ! I told you, it tastes fine ! I removed allthe egg shell bits too, but you weren’t even here to see it ! Come on”, he added, taking you by the arm to lead you to the table, “let’s just eat. And don’t pay attention towhat he says. Yuzuru, bring tea. Hurry !” You couldn’t help but smile asyou followed him, and he graciously gestured for you to sit before he did sohimself.

He insisted you blew the candles andmade a wish before (clumsily) cutting the cake himself, giving you the biggestslice with a huge smile. To be fair, Tori was right and the cake was ratherokay. Now, the icing was a bit too sticky and sugary, but you assured him hedid great for a first try, and he felt a bit better once you told him so. Youwere on the lookout for bits of egg shell, but were relieved not to find any. Yuzuru’spastries were amazing too, and even though Tori was intent on ignoring them, heeventually gave in and shared some with you, happily opening his mouth wide foryou to spoon-feed him. Once you were absolutely full with sweets, Tori beamedat you.

“So ? How was it ? Amazing, right ?” You nodded happily, and he kept going, eyes twinkling. “But that’s not all, you know, I also have giftsfor you !” He gestured forYuzuru, who came in carrying a pile of elaborately-wrapped presents. How manywere there… ? You couldn’t even count them all !

“Here ! The gifts ! I want you to open them all, okay? Here’s the first one ! I did it myself, you know ?” You hesitantly took one of the packages, feeling a bit sad at thethought of ripping that gorgeous wrapping off.

“Yourself ? Oh, Tori, you’re so sweet… Thank you somuch !” Yuzuru, who was taking the teacups away, gave you alittle smile.

“I suggest you open it before thanking him, next time.” Torilooked so offended at his butler’s comment that you had to suppress yourlaughter yet again.

“Like you can even say that ! Yours suck, you know !You’re becoming way too cheeky, Yuzuru ! Anyway, don’t listen to him. He’s justjealous.” You nodded, smiling, and unwrapped the presentquickly. It was… a painting ? It looked rather abstract. Maybe you were holdingit upside down ? You tried looking at it from another perspective, but Torigently put it in its original position.

“No, no, it’s like this. So ? It’s pretty great, right? Look, this is you, this is me, and this is the night sky, and in thebackground there’s also…” He blabbered happily about the deepmeaning of his masterpiece, while you were left squinting confusedly at it.Yeah, you couldn’t quite identify what was what, despite his explanations. Butthat’s just geniuses for you, always misunderstood by the masses…

“… and anyway that wraps it up, I think. You can hangit in your bedroom, I can give you a frame if you want !” Uh, why not, after all… That painting was definitely unique, but youstill thought it looked better upside-down. Tori quickly moved on, oblivious tothe fact you were holding his precious masterpiece the wrong way.

“But I also thought, ‘What if they don’t like it’, youknow ? So I wanted to buy you something, but then again I couldn’t choose justone gift, so I bought several !” Oh, so that was the reason behindthe pile of gifts. Could you even accept that many gifts ? How much did hespend on you exactly… ? He didn’t notice your sudden unease and kept going,bouncing on his seat excitedly.

“If you don’t like any of them, just tell me and I’llbuy something else instead ! Money’s not a problem, so don’t hesitate ! Butthese are all things you’ve been wanting lately so I think it should be— Hey, areyou alright… ?” Oh, right. You’d been lost in your thoughts for amoment. He looked worried, leaning over slightly to study your face. “You don’t look good, do you want to gooutside for a bit ? Yuzuru, can you bring—”

“Oh no, don’t worry, I’m fine,” you cut him off, shaking your head, “I’mjust… really thankful. It was a lot of money, and… You’re just so sweet, Tori.”His eyes went wide when you pulled him into a hug over the small table, andhe stayed quiet a moment. Worried, you pulled back to see if he was okay, andsure enough, his eyes were glistening with tears.

“Y-You’re the one who’s always so sweet ! I messed uptoday, I really did, the cake and the painting and all, and you’re alwayshappy… No”, he added when you shook your head vigorously, “I know I messed up, don’t lie. The cakewasn’t that good, and that painting ! Come on, it’s super ugly. But still… Iwanted to give you something I did myself…” He sniffled a bit, lips partingalready to keep speaking, but you cut him off with a kiss.

It was rather shy, but Tori kissedback, clumsily. His lips still tasted of chocolate syrup, and his cheeks werebright pink when you pulled back gently.

“You know, Tori, I don’t care if the cake’s a bit toosweet, or if the painting is… uh…” You caught his disbelievingglare, and laughed a bit. “Well, it’s abit weird, okay, but I still like it ! And that’s because you did it all byyourself.” He smiled shyly, cheeks getting a bit pinker at your words.

“Then, I’m glad you like it. I’m so, so glad you likeme, too…” He looked away a moment, visibly hesitating, buteventually gave in and hugged you tight again, pressing a gentle kiss on yourcheek.

“Happy birthday… I love you, you know that … ? And Iwon’t ever stop loving you, so you’d better be ready for many, many more messedup cakes, alright ?”

[obsessed-420]

Piggyback Ride

200 Follower Special 

(Thank you so much for the 200 followers and all the support and love! And thanks @explodingpringlescans for the wonderful prompt!)

OSAMU MIYA

Sometimes, the way the world ignored a person in need could hurt more than the physical pain of a twisted ankle. You tried to hold some tears back as you sat on the ground, your hands holding your swollen leg. The knot in your throat was made of anger, rather than pain, as you saw people walk by without even looking at you or offering any help.

“Hey… are you okay?”

It was funny how sometimes the simplest questions could mean the world to someone. You looked up and met a pair of round dark eyes that stared at you with worry.

As a manager of the volleyball team, you knew this guy. Osamu Miya, second-year player, one of the stars of the team together with his twin brother Atsumu. Unlike the noisy blonde, Osamu was quieter and you had barely crossed a few words in the last year, so you were surprised he would address you now, of all times. He had always given you the feeling of being a cold and distant guy.

“That ankle doesn’t look good,” he added, noticing your injury. “A bad fall?”

You nodded, gulping. If you had to talk, you were sure you’d burst into tears. Luckily for you, Osamu understood the situation without further questions, and held out a hand for you to stand up.

You felt shaky, putting your entire weight onto your healthy leg and finding support on Osamu’s hand, but you wouldn’t be able to walk at all.

He bent over, his back turned to you.

“Hop on.”

You obeyed and jumped onto his back. His arms held the weight of your body through your legs, and you were confident that he would be able to carry you anywhere without problem. He was a very strong guy, after all. You rested your chin on his shoulder and felt the comforting warmth of his back against your chest.

“I’ll take you to hospital,” he said, his voice monotonous.

“Thank you so much…”

“Hm? No prob.”

His response sounded so casual that it almost made you cry.

“It really means a lot to me… Nobody else helped me.”

“I know. I noticed.”

Now his voice was lower, and you could tell there was a hint of annoyance in its monotony. You couldn’t see his face and you grew worried that you were bothering him.

“I’m sorry, I’m such a burden…” You started, but he immediately clicked his tongue.

“That’s not true, (y/n)-san.”

“But now you have to bear with me instead of going home,” you argued.

“Bullshit. I’m helping a person in need. That’s no burden.”

You hid your face against his back. His clothes had a distinctive, unique smell that you had never noticed before.

“Would you think that helping an injured person is a burden?” He asked after a second of silence.

“Of course not. I’ve always helped anyone in the team who got injured.”

It was true. As a manager, you had always taken any injured guys to the infirmary. It had never crossed your mind that it could be a burden to you. Even if you hadn’t been the manager, you would’ve done it anyways.

“Then why would I think that?” Osamu insisted. “I haven’t complained, have I?”

“You sounded annoyed a moment ago.”

And he stopped.

“Oh. (y/n)-san… Did you think so?”

“Yeah.”

He turned his head towards you, even if he couldn’t really see your face.

“I’m sorry. I was angry at the people who didn’t help you, not at you.”

Your eyes widened.

“I misunderstood you… I’m so sorry, Osamu-kun.”

“That’s okay, don’t worry.”

And he shook his arms to redistribute your weight on his back. You held on tighter to his shoulders to make it easier for him to carry you.

Osamu kept a conversation going on, maybe to distract you from your pain. He talked about meaningless things, about the weather, about a silly joke his brother had made or something he had forgotten to do. He asked you sometimes if you were still in pain, and every time he asked, you tried to make it sound like you felt a little better so he wouldn’t worry.

Because, even if your leg was still in the same amount of pain, your heart felt so much lighter now.

You phoned your parents on the way to hospital, but they were working and would take them at least a couple hours to arrive. Osamu shook his head and said:

“Don’t worry, I’ll stay with you meanwhile.”

You couldn’t thank him enough. He kept chatting with you and you found that his voice, which you had once considered monotonous, was now very relaxing. It made the wait at hospital more bearable, and before you knew it the doctor was already bandaging your ankle and giving you some painkillers.

By the time your parents arrived to hospital, you were already outside, a smile on your face. You turned to Osamu and said:

“I need to thank you somehow.”

“I already said there’s no need to,” he answered casually.

But you pouted, unsatisfied.

“…if you insist, homemade dessert would be nice,” he added, his voice monotonous.

Or was it? You realized there was a cheeky tone in his seemingly dull voice, and you smirked.

“I’ll see what I can do. See you tomorrow, Osamu-kun.”

“Take care, (y/n)-san. I’m looking forward to that dessert.”

And you noticed a small smile on his lips before he waved goodbye to you and left you with your parents.

ATSUMU MIYA

You held the net up, and groaned. You tried to hold it higher, tiptoeing, but it wasn’t enough.

You sighed.

“You don’t need to be tall to be a manager at the volleyball club,” they told you. “You can still be helpful to the team.”

Lies. All lies.

Sure, you had managed so far helping the guys hanging the net because there was a stool at the gym, but it seemed like someone from another club had borrowed it. Of course, that had to happen the one day the captain had asked you to hang the net before the guys arrived to the gym.

Now everyone would think you were a failure and they would fire you from the volleyball team and… wait, could you even be fired from a position that wasn’t a job?

You were wondering that, still tiptoeing, holding the net high above your head, when you heard behind you:

“BWAHAHAHA. YOU’RE TINY.”

You turned around slowly, giving that person the chance to run away before you unleashed your fury. You didn’t need to see his face to know it was Atsumu Miya laughing at you.

You lowered the net and wondered if it could be used to murder him. Maybe someone would be suspicious if the net disappeared, but you could blame whoever had borrowed the stool, blaming them for stealing the stool, the net and Atsumu Miya.

The second-year walked up to you in Full Cockiness Mode, his hands resting on his hips while he approached you with a smug smirk.

He only stopped when he was right behind you, looking at you from above to emphasize the height difference.

“Need a hand?”

“I’m going to murder you after this, y’know,” you warned him casually.

His smirk grew bigger, but now there was a tint of fondness in his eyes.

“Sure.”

He rested his hands on your shoulders and gave you a squeeze.

“I’ll hang it for you.”

“No way. I can’t let my reputation be stained like this. I have to be the one hanging it. What is a manager worth for if I can’t even do this?”

He raised an eyebrow, judging you. Atsumu knew you could be as stubborn as him, and he really liked that from you.

“Okay then. Hold the net.”

“Huh?”

He stood in front of you, his back turned to you, and squatted. A piggyback ride? That would be so embarrassing…

…but only if someone else saw you. Otherwise, you could look at Captain Kita in the eye and proudly tell him that you had hung the net on your own. He wouldn’t suspect a thing.

You climbed onto his shoulders and he straightened up with a jolt.

“Careful!”

Suddenly the floor was too far away from you and you felt dizzy. Your immediate reaction was to wrap your arms around his head, covering his eyes.

“(y/n)-chan, I can’t see a thing!”

“This is too scary!”

“You were the one who wanted to do this! Now own it!”

“Okay, okay… But I need you to get closer.”

“Riiiiight.” He sighed.

You felt the instability of your own body depending on Atsumu’s shoulder strength, but soon you realized that he could hold you just fine. You had never appreciated how strong his upper body was. In less than a minute, you had already secured one end of the net.

Now, the other end… you looked into the distance. It would be wise to return to the safety of the floor, walk there and…

Before you knew it, Atsumu was running to the other side.

“Weeeee!”

“ATSUMU, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!! STOP!!”

You curled up around his head, scared to death, while he ran around. When he finally stopped on the other side of the gym, you sighed in relief, your heart pumping so fast that it drummed inside your ears.

You could just… coil your arms around his neck… tighten… end his miserable existence right now.

Then again, your life would be so boring without Atsumu.

“Come on, (y/n)-chan, hang it.”

“Shut up, idiot,” you said as you secured the other end.

Atsumu took a step back and you two admired your hard work. The net was hanging perfectly, separating the two halves of the gym. Kita would be proud of you.

“Have you finished already?” A voice came from the gym door.

No way. You didn’t want to see his face, but Atsumu turned around for you, and you had no other choice but to face reality: Captain Kita was staring at you, who were still sitting on Atsumu’s shoulders. This had to be Kita’s most serious face ever (the Inarizaki team kept a reference scale of Kita’s serious face in different situations).

“…how long have you been there, Kita-san?” You asked, your voice wobbly.

“I came right after Atsumu.”

You glanced at Atsumu (ah, the only time in your life you could actually look down on him) and saw his trembling lips as he held back a laugh. Before you could order him to return you to the floor, he squatted and let you get down.

“You should get the balls basket out. Everyone will be here in a minute,” Kita suggested, his expression as stoic as usual.

But you knew your reputation was already stained.

Atsumu walked away, whistling a happy melody. He had no reputation to start with, so of course he didn’t care about Kita witnessing his ridiculous behavior.

You clenched your fists.

You would never forgive Atsumu.

[omgnsfwisnsfw-blog]

Joe Black and the Art of Merging Territory, Pt. 2 (Mike)

"Mmm. Sounds perfect by me." Both of Mike’s hands were occupied, so Death in the form of Brad Pitt continued to fall in love with Corporate Magnate Anthony Hopkins' beautiful daughter in the background. They held their current position for a while. This was wonderful. He was warm, in every sense of the word, and were other things not on Mike's mind they could quite happily fall asleep right here. If things couldn't progress further, they likely would. Mike very much wanted this to progress further. Frankly, they had wanted him for some time now- it was very difficult not to, really. After all, John was sweet and gentle and kind, but also fantastically attractive. Face of an angel, body of a Greek god. Perfectly pounceable, and they were very, very thirsty. Still, if they were cut off here, if it's not what John wanted, that was alright. They kept watching him, mostly out of being enamored but also for cues. They did not want to keep pushing if he showed any serious discomfort. After all, they of all people knew the paramount importance of consent. Scooting up just slightly, they planted a kiss to his jawline. Something slight and almost teasing. Let's see where this can go.

John closed his eyes. Out of instinct, he licked his upper lip. He breathed in.

"L-like before?" A slight pause. He seemed to be trying to place his words. "I'm, I'm pretty bad at, I think, am I ..." He stammered. "I think, just ... " Weakly. "You're really the only person I've trusted like this." Mike stopped, reading the apprehension. Their brow furrowed.

"...is this not okay?" They looked up. There wasn’t any real disappointment in their face, simply earnestness. "If you aren't okay with this I can stop. I know you trust me and that means... fuck. I couldn't tell you how much. But I don't wanna do anything you're not comfortable with. That's important."

"Sometimes I wish I could explain. That ... sometimes stuff ... gets mixed up. Betrays each other. And I want to tell you. That." He struggled with each word. He poured himself into this statement. "It's. Okay. Just never came up ... much." His hand trembled on theirs a moment, and then steadied. "But I want to push through because I know I like this. I like you. I mean but more. More like what you've been saying."

"I like you, too." It was a little middle school and it made them giggle a bit, but not in a nasty way. It was sweet. All of this was sweet. Which was good because it also was intimidatingly uncharted territory, for both of them. After all... John wasn't a girl. Besides, the word that both of them meant, really meant, seemed to have a peculiar way of mucking things up. Perhaps later. "We don't need to go any further right now. I like this, just like we are right now. But if you want... we can keep trying. Just a little bit, y'know, some here, some there, see where this goes over time. Cuz... heh. I thought of this earlier... some of the moves in our set can look a weeeee bit compromising. Didn't dawn on me till tonight."

John’s cheeks slightly flushed. Mike found that incredibly cute. "In there. It's different. So I guess..." John turned his head to hide that reaction, unfortunately for him a bit too late. "I'd like to figure this out with you. It's like our secret."

"Lips are sealed. Believe it or not, I can control my goddamn mouth when I need to." They snickered, but then got a bit serious, looking up. "Only one rule, though. Consent is fuckin' king here. I know you like t' do things on my account whether or not you'd be keen on 'em otherwise, and I'm grateful. But you can't do that here. You don't like something, you ain't comfortable, or you don't want to? Tell me t' stop and I will. Like, immediately. Promise?" They didn’t think it’d be a problem the other way around, honestly.

"If you'd like..." John caught himself. "Yes. I think. Let me know if this is clear. I'd like to...for now, follow your lead."

"Okay. Sounds good." They smiled, sighing softly in contentment. Still thirsty? Perhaps. But even though the road to the watering hole wasn't crystal clear, they knew where they wanted to go and had a pair of machetes. They'd figure this out together. They always did. For now though, something else crossed their mind. A bit of a step forward. They looked up, expression almost sweetly shy. "Hey. You wanna... spend the night in my room? Cuz frankly I could cuddle up with you like this all night. You are very damn comfy." "If you'd... " He gritted his teeth. "Yes. I ... sometimes don't like being alone. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Almost regrettably, Mike untangled themself from him, consoled by the fact they'd be that close again soon enough. They still held on to his hand though.

Maybe if this worked out- and frankly Mike didn't see why it wouldn't- it could be a more permanent thing. They'd clean up the clutter a bit, shift some furniture around. What was a bedroom could become a study, and what was their room could become their room.

More merging of territory. And that was just fine.

They yawned softly, stretching out a slight crick in their back.

"Let's go to bed, yeah?"