#shout out to my friend who is nice enough to always tolerate me complaining about Carl Schmitt

[visit-ba-sing-se]

You know how they say in dubio pro memebus (or something like that)

[shorkbrian]

Omg hi so I read your babysitter fic and I was thinking what if bakuogus tired of reader being a brat with him so he brings Kiri over to help him out 🤤 srry im just being horny on anon rn

“C’mon princess, move your ass before I move it for you.”

You huffed at the blonde, opening the car door, stepping outside and slamming it shut. Bakugou shot you a harsh glare, but you weren’t looking at him, instead crouching to tie your shoe.

He gave you a moment to do that, before the man got impatient, clicking his tongue, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Let’s go, it’s not like I have all fucking day.”

You knew for a fact that yes, he did have all day.

Your mom was away again, another business trip. She was working towards a promotion - a position that meant more hours, more work, more travel.

More time being spent with your stupid babysitter.

With your rapist.

He hadn’t touched you, not outright, since that day. Every time your mom suggested having him over for dinner, you conveniently found somewhere to be; out with friends, on a date, having a sleepover. Anything so that you didn’t have to look at Bakugou Katsuki’s stupid, smug little face.

But your mom had surprised you yesterday night, letting you know she’d be leaving in the morning, that Katsuki would be staying over again. There wasn’t any time for you to argue with her, to plead for her to stay, or to take you with her, or for you to stay at a friend’s house, anything but Katsuki.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to avoid him!” She had laughed, before wagging a finger at you. “Don’t be rude. He’s a nice man, and I trust him to keep you safe. He did last time!”

Yeah, and he also assaulted you last time, so maybe he wasn’t as nice of a guy as she thought.

He was taking you to the mall, not even really giving you a choice, just telling you to get dressed, that the two of you were going out.

Now here you were, trudging silently behind the older man, glaring at the ground.

“Bakubro! Over here!”

A loud shout drew your attention, Bakugou grinning as he started veering towards the shouter, a red-haired man waving enthusiastically. You followed behind him obediently, taking stock of this new man.

He was fucking huge, thick thighs bulging against his jeans, biceps straining against the fabric of his navy hoodie. This new guy was handsome too, a wide, sharp smile, soft red eyes, a clean-shaven face.

“’Sup Idiot? You tryin’ to attract the whole mall? Always so damn loud.” Even though he was complaining, it was clear that these two were friends as Bakugou let the other man pull him into a hug. They pounded each other on the back, before the redhead drew back, pushing past the blonde to give you his full attention. 

“Who’s this? Did you get a girlfriend? She looks a little young bro.”

“I’m not his girlfriend.” You spat, and the redhead held up his hands in surrender as Bakugou shouldered him to the side.

“It’s the little fucker that I’m looking after as a favor. You know I work security for that office complex?” The redhead nodded. “Yeah, one of the milfs gave me free range of her house as long as I watch her.”

Both men looked at you, and the redhead smiled brightly.

“Ah, well, I’m Kirishima! Nice to meet you, sorry you have to put up with such a grumpy fucke-”

“Hey, shaddup.” Bakugou elbowed him, but Kirishima was already extending a hand for you to shake, and you did so gladly. At least you weren’t the only one who thought Bakugou was a grumpy, stuck up mess.

“’Kay, now can we go? I’m starving’, wanna eat before we do anything else.”

Kirishima winked at you as he threw an arm around your shoulders, his other arm around Bakugou. “Food court? I think they have a pretty good selection here...”

-----

Kirishima was much more tolerable than Bakugou.

He was funny, cracking jokes and making you almost spit out the soda he had bought you, slipping you five dollars behind Bakugou’s back for you to get a drink.

The redhead sat next to you while the three of you ate, including you in the conversation whenever Bakugou seemed to forget about your existence.

As the three of you walked from store-to-store, Kirishima listened to you ramble on about the latest game you’d bought, what you thought of your favorite snack brand trying to collaborate with a fashion company, all your opinions on the music playing faintly through the mall speakers.

It was fun when he grabbed your hand, tugging you away from Bakugou and along with the redhead as he ducked into a random store. It was some street-wear fashion place, and Kirishima wanted your thoughts on if a shirt was his color, or if he could pull off one of the hats that adorned the mannequin in the store window.

The two of you were busy laughing at how the hat couldn’t even press past his spiky hairstyle when you noticed Bakugou, glowering at you both from the outside of the store, lips pulled into the deepest frown.

Kirishima started laughing at the man’s expression, and you quickly followed suit, before Bakugou stalked inside, cuffing his friend on the ear.

What a spoil sport.

You couldn’t deny that by the end of the few hours you’d spent with Kirishima, you found yourself attracted to him. Not only in looks, but also in his goofy personality. You wouldn’t mind being friends with him.

It was easy to exchange numbers with the man, easy to let him lift your spirits.

And then it was time to leave, all three of you grouped at the entrance, saying bye, Bakugou and Kirishima giving each other another bro-hug.

You gave Kirishima a hug, leaning into his warm touch, enjoying his spicy cologne as you pressed your face against his broad chest. He eagerly returned the hug, until Bakugou was scoffing, pulling you out of his embrace.

“We’re in fucking public, you two, chill. Keep your pants on, sluts.”

Kirishima laughed, giving you a cheery wave as Bakugou gripped your hand until it hurt, dragging you out of the mall quickly.

-----

“Why are you being such a brat? You were fuckin’ fine earlier.” The blonde man grumbled, glancing over at you from where he was making dinner.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your water. “It’s not my fault you have a stick up your ass. All I said is I don’t like when you make food, tastes bad.”

Bakugou huffed, turning off the stove. “Are you fucking serious? You’re just trying to mess with me, aren’t’cha princess?”

“Could you stop calling me that? I’m not your princess.”

“You’re whatever I want you to be, princess.” Bakugou sneered, stomping towards you.

You quickly backpedalled, setting your glass of water down on the counter, stepping back. “I’m going to go set the table!” Was your way out, and Bakugou backed off as you threw open a cupboard, rummaging for plates and cups as he chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, you do that.” 

It wasn’t long before the table was set, Bakugou bringing the food to set it down onto the hotplate in the middle.

Even just a whiff of the food had your eyes watering, the spice through the roof.

“Seriously dude? You know you’re cooking for two people, why the fuck did you make it inedible?!?” 

The blonde man glared at you as he sat down, jaw working, mouth twisting. “You gonna be a bitch-baby about it? Should be fuckin’ grateful that I even made you dinner.”

“Thanks for dinner.” You mumbled, staring tiredly at the food Bakugou was heaping onto his plate. You didn’t feel like eating anymore, his outburst ruining your mood, reminding you of the time when he got angry because you wouldn’t go to bed, wouldn’t listen to him-

“Eat the damn food.” Katsuki snapped, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

You did as he asked, even though it burned your mouth. Dinner was quickly gulped down, followed by desperate swigs of water as you tried to chase away the spice. Bakugou huffing the entire time at your inability to handle the level of spice he preferred.

Afterwards, you gathered up the plates and washed them, conscious of Katsuki hovering in the background of the kitchen, watching you work while he tapped away on his phone.

When the last dish was washed, dried, and put away, you began rummaging in the cupboards, looking for something sweet, something to soothe your tastebuds.

“What’re you doin’, didn’t I just feed you?”

Bakugou’s harsh voice made you flinch, but you kept your back to him. “Was hoping there’d be dessert.”

A long, irritated sigh, then a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you away from the kitchen cupboards. “Ain’t got any of that shit in the house princess, you don’t need it.”

“But-” Your plead was interrupted by Bakugou rolling his eyes, snorting.

“Why are you being such a whiny baby? Is this cause Kiri was spoilin’ you earlier?”

Jutting your chin out, you glared up into red eyes as you turned around seething. “Maybe I like being treated like a person and not a problem. I don’t even understand why he’s friends with you - you’re mean and crass and stup-”

“So you’re just acting out cause you want some extra attention or some shit? What a brat.” The blonde sneered, leaning back against the counter as he tapped away at his phone again.

“You want Kiri so bad, fine. I’ll have him get you some shitty grocery-store dessert. Then maybe you’ll stop acting like a bitch. Stuff some candy in that mouth, will that keep you quiet, huh?”

It was infuriating, being treated like a child. Ignored, talked down to, unable to assert yourself or make decisions. 

“Whatever.” You huffed, shaking your head as you walked out of the kitchen. “Anything’s better than having to sit here with you.”

-----

The front door opening and the faint rustle of grocery bags caught your ear as you fumed on the couch, angrily questioning “why me?” as to your situation. But the noise meant your new friend was here, and he was much nicer than Bakugou.

Nice enough to have you smiling a bit as you rose to your feet, padding into the dining room as you beelined to the soft murmur of two manly voices.

“Heyyy! Long time no see!” The redhead was dressed in a loose tank top and basketball shorts, shoes discarded somewhere in the hall. 

You’d known he was muscular, but actually seeing his muscles without clothes in the way? You were stunned.

A bright blush encompassed your face when Bakugou snapped his fingers, narrowing his eyes at you. “Ay’, stupid! Focus! He got you a bunch of sweet shit. Rot your teeth out.” While gesturing to the two grocery bags resting on the dinner table.

“Hi Kirishima, thanks for the desserts-”

“Aw, it’s nothing. Bakubro wouldn’t tell me what kinda flavors you like so I kinda got a variety...”

Cupcakes and candy and various other sweet treats were nestled in the bags, and you grinned. “Dude, it’s all good. Wanna sit down and have some too?”

Bakugou snorted while Kiri smiled at you, nodding his head.  The dining chair creaked as his weight settled in it, the redhead pushing the grocery bags towards where you sat, encouraging you to pick anything you wanted.

The two men began to talk about this and that, mundane things about work, odd jobs, what their plans for the weekend were, boring stuff you easily tuned out as you indulged in sweet desserts.

Their attention turned to you when a whine slipped from your lips as frosting fell rom the cupcake you were eating and onto your shirt. Before you reached for a napkin, Kiri was leaning over, invading your space.

“You’re kinda messy, aren't you?” He breathed, a single finger swiping through the frosting on your shirt before the redhead sucked it into his mouth, looking at you through his eyelashes.

“Oh-u-uhm...” Was your elegant reply, tummy filled with butterflies at the fact that his finger had pressed against your skin through your shirt, right underneath your breast. 

He was so hot.

“Yeah, and a fuckin’ brat too. Little bitch can’t stop complaining about every little thing. Shut up the second I mentioned you were coming over.” Bakugou cackled, breaking the mood completely.

But Kirishima’s eyes were still on you as his now-clean finger slipped from his mouth. It was mesmerizing, watching the muscles in his arms shift and move as he leaned closer, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and raising the fabric so he could lick at the frosting still stuck on it.

Your breath stuttered, heat flaring suddenly in your tummy at the action.

And then Bakugou had to ruin it again. 

“You can fuck her if you want, I don’t mind. I told the old bird I would watch her kid for her. Didn’t say nothin’ about not getting her drunk on some cock.”

Eyes squeezing shut, you opened your mouth for some snappy reply, but Kirishima beat you to speaking.

“Yeah? Alright. You good with that baby?”

Wait, good with-?

Kirishima was looking up at you expectantly, fingers still clutched in your shirt, refusing to touch your skin. He was hot. This was hot. It’d be perfect if Bakugou wasn’t here.

“C’mon, just fuck her man, she’s been gaggin’ for your dick since she met you. Stop being a loser and man up.”

The redhead in front of you smiled, sharp teeth on display and gleaming. 

Then your shirt was being pulled over your head, hands gripping at your chest, thumbing over your nipples through your bra.

“W-wai-Kiri! Uhm, can’t we- uhm-”

Your voice was ignored, the redhead’s eyes glued to your chest as he pulled down your bra a bit, until he could palm each breast without anything in-between his warm hands and your soft skin.

“You’re so pretty...”

“She’s a whore.” Bakugou snarked.

Hands migrated to your waist, and you were easily lifted onto the table, Kirishima rising from his seat so he could push at your shoulders until they met the solid wood. Bakugou stayed seated, casually notching his hands behind his head and leaning back as he watched the show unfold before him.

Things were happening so fast, you didn’t know what to say, couldn’t move your hands to push away the broad redhead. This was so confusing. Yes, you wanted him, but you didn’t want Bakugou watching. You didn’t want to do this on the dining room table, didn’t like the quick turn the night had taken.

Your pants were being pulled down before you could organize your thoughts, before you could do much else aside from whimper and press your legs together.

“Hah, cute panties. You always wear stuff like this?” Kirishima asked, sliding a thumb underneath the elastic waistband only so he could snap it against your skin. You gasped at the little sting, unsure what to say, what to do.

“Most of her stuff is stupid girly shit like that, so yes.” 

You tried to throw a glare Bakugou’s way, but with the blonde somewhere behind you sitting at the table, you couldn’t turn your head far enough.

Especially not when you were distracted by Kirishima pushing down the waistband of his shorts. 

“I’m so glad I didn’t wear jeans.” He chuckled, holding his cock at the base as he sat back down again, scooting his chair up to edge of the table where your legs were splayed wide.

“Okay pretty, try and stay still for me. Make as much noise as you wanna, Bakugou and I don’t mind.” And then a warm mouth was pressed up against your cunt, licking at you over your panties, dragging the rough cotton against your most sensitive parts.

“Oh! o-oh, oh-oh-” Was all you could make your mouth manage as the redhead gripped your thighs in his giant hands, pushing them apart and allowing his massive shoulders to fit between them as he bent to lick at your pussy.

It felt... It felt so good, building up pressure in your stomach as your hole clenched around nothing.

Then Kiri did something awful, pulling your panties to the side and nosing into your folds with a pleased grunt. His skin was so warm, and you were so wet, and his nose started bumping against your clit as the man sloppily mouthed at you, and you couldn’t-couldn’t

“Stop-stop! ‘m gonna cum!” You wailed, legs twitching.

Immediately Kirishima drew back, soothing circles getting rubbed into your calves by thick fingers. “You don’t wanna cum in my mouth? Wanna cum on my cock instead? That’s cute.”

He stood up, and you barely got a glimpse of his dick bobbing against his stomach before he was leaning forward and catching your lips in a kiss. It almost scared you, sharp teeth poking menacingly against your lips, dragging across your skin as Kirishima moved his mouth against yours, but the redhead knew how to work with his teeth.

“Man, she really is a slut for you.” Bakugou piped up from behind you. He was a bit breathless, voice scratcher, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Kirishima was pulling away with a groan, one of his hands fisting his cock.

The redhead gathered the spit in his mouth, leaned down, and let it drip onto your cunt, panties still pushed to the side. It was burning hot, adding to the fire in your tummy, blazing higher and higher.

Heavy breathing and labored panting filled the room as Kirishima edged closer to you, laying his cock flat against your entrance, playing with your panties as he did so until they pressed against his cock as it nestled between the lips of your cunt.

And then he started grinding.

Slow, delicious, absolutely heavenly.

You almost didn’t care about the disgusting little groans coming from Bakugou, the slick sounds of him fucking his fist, the creak of his chair behind you.

Almost.

Your attention was more focused on the pleasurable little zings going up your spine as Kiri rubbed his cock through your folds, all slick and wet. You kept your legs spread wide for him, barely able to breathe at the heat that seemed to fill the space, fill your lungs and steal your voice.

Kiri leaned down to kiss you again, and your hands fisted into his tank top, the material sweaty as it clung to his chest. If you could focus, you’d be trying to pull it off him, see the beautiful skin underneath, the man’s gorgeous body.

But what he was doing with his hips felt so good, you couldn’t even think.

“Kiri-Kiri, gonna-ohmygod-gonna-!”

And you came, shuddering as his cock kept fucking back and forth through your folds, twitching against your clit, veins in his dick pulsing and dragging against your skin.

He wasn’t stopping.

“Unhh, I came, please, wait Kirishima-”

“Didn’t you say you wanted to cum on my cock baby? I’m barely getting warmed up.” A feral smile gleamed bright from his lips. “I don’t play like Bakugou, I like messy girls. Gonna get you so fucked out you can’t even speak, can’t even walk. Won’t give him any trouble then, right? You’ll be good? For us?”

The look in his eye told you that you weren’t going to get a choice.

“Fuck Kiri, turn her over when you fuck her cunt so I can use her mouth.” Bakugou’s voice cut in, and your mood soured even more.

But Kirishima was already agreeing, cock still thrusting against your cunt. 

You didn’t get to make decisions anymore.

[snuggetfish]

Majidad family headcanons..? 🥺👉👈

Say no more 💖 This is LONG so I've put it under the cut!

First off, how many children would Majima want? Frankly, the man’s so happy to be given the chance at fatherhood in the first place that even just one would send him over the moon... but he wouldn’t say no to more. He’s paid enough visits to Kiryu to feel that twinge in his heart, hearing the echo of so many cheery voices around the orphanage. 

So, if it at all possible, he’d love to see his dream about having his own little cuddle puddle of kids become a reality. He’ll maybe slightly underestimate how difficult it’d be to take care of them all, but he’s Majima Goro, moulded by fate to be one tenacious bastard. He’ll pull through, somehow, with the help of a loving partner willing to go the distance with him. However, if he did only have one kid, you can bet they’d be spoiled absolutely rotten. You might think that the roles of good cop/bad cop would be obvious in a crazy yakuza dad+presumably civilian spouse couple, but think again, because Majima is a complete pushover when faced with cute puppy eyes. 

Extra serving of ice cream after dinner? He'll pile gigantic scoops into his bowl and then give up not even halfway through, sliding it towards his child. He can't really wink, but they get the picture. “Who in ever is gonna finish this for me?” Five minutes more at the park? Sure thing, they can have the whole hour and maybe Kiryu-chan might show up in the meantime too so they can... schedule their next fight. No throwing down in front of the kid! I think also once Majima becomes a dad, his priorities shift. Slightly, but noticeably. He still upholds his vicious reputation, but he isn't living at the edge any more, fighting through each day like it's his last, defusing bombs with little regard for safety. If surviving up until now was luck more than anything, with a child in his life, he's going to make damn sure it becomes a certainty. He's got something so very precious to stay alive for.

When they're still very young, Majima would be a great help in comforting them during the night. He typically gets back at late hours anyway and relishes the chance to spend a bit of time with his child, instead of immediately collapsing into a restless sleep like he always used to. If they're awake or crying he'll comfort them as best as he can, even with his whispered voice now hoarser than he remembers it and no knowledge of lullabies... but hey, pop songs will do too. 24h Cinderella anyone? Though if they're sound asleep, he'll stick to just holding their tiny hand for a while, feel it clasp gently around his fingers... 

First things first, the gloves come off, always. "Skinship" is a Japanese word put together from English that I think is great for describing the kind of parent-child intimacy he'd want. On mornings where can afford to sleep in, it wouldn't be uncommon for his spouse to find him on the couch, dozing on and off with the baby nestled on his chest. He's afraid of falling fully asleep and missing the tenderness of the moment, plus his nightmares are not something he'd ever want his child to know... So he'll stay like that, stroking their back and peeking through a lidded eye at his partner who's busy making breakfast. Also on this topic, an idea that occurred to me recently: you know how Majima's tattoo has one of the snakes' heads on the left side of his chest? Well... call him superstitious, but he'd only hold the baby on the right side. Can't have it threatening his sweet pea. 🥺️

What about once they get older? Well probably Majima would start waking up with unexpected “extensions” made this his tattoo, in black marker. Possibly some scribbles on his eye patch as well, which he’ll still proudly wear to work. And if you know what’s good for you, you really don’t want to be the one making fun of a Mad Dog that’s sporting a little heart doodle on his face. Kisses? Yes, absolutely. As we learn from Dead Souls, Majima would not shy away from smooching his child. A “good night” kiss, a “good morning” kiss, a “have a nice day” kiss when they’re off to school. One day the kid complains that his beard’s too scratchy and Majima doesn’t even think twice before he goes back to being clean-shaven. 

I think at some point they would also have to be introduced to the domain they're going to be ruling (though only as children!): the Majima Family. Nishida would be promoted to “designated driver", for a kid all too eager to ride on someone's shoulders while daddy's away in a meeting and the Kamurocho Hills construction site would be getting a new foreman. Their duties would include drawing on the blueprints and shouting words of "encouragement" at the men through dad's loudspeaker, whenever he needs a break. Bet Majima even gets them a little hard hat and everything, custom-made! Ok so it also doesn't take long for them to figure out a fun game to play with the new family members, a hazing ritual basically: show up on the day of their first office duty and annoy the hell out of them. Men were nervous to begin with, but now they're confused and pissed, like who the hell is this brat and who let them in? Kid plays the silent card: doesn't say a word about their name or their dad's, just keeps running around and getting in their business. 

After chasing a lightning-fast kid all around the whole office, Majima comes in and they think they're saved. Surely the boss has 0 tolerance for little intruders.... Though, of course, the intruder immediately runs to daddy and it slowly... very slowly dawns on them. Kid’s grinning from behind a leather-clad leg and the poor newbies have gone white in the face mentally counting how many fingers they're gonna have to give up. But it’s all fun and games... mostly. Of course a Majima descendant would inherit his mischievous nature.

But hey at some point, uncle Saejima comes back. Though Majima’s maybe a little reluctant at first, eventually he can’t but see the value of his kid training with his kyodai in the dojo. For self-defense, but also to develop their athleticism. Saejima’s of course happy to spend time with his niece or nephew, though... you know how in Y4 one of dojo's mechanics is that the students can just skip your lessons if they're not feeling motivated enough? Majima’s munchkin would absolutely do that. Slide underneath the big tiger’s legs and make a run for it! 

I think Majima would find it terribly endearing if the child at some point started dropping Kansai words here and there. And that’s in spite of Saejima chiding him that his own accent is fake and that the kid probably picked it up from the “real source”, a.k.a Saejima himself. Heh, dad and uncle might bicker sometimes, but they both make it clear just how much they love the little one.

Now, raising a child as a high-profile yakuza is obviously not going to be all rainbows and sunshine... I think Majima would love nothing more than to indulge in the cozy fantasy of being an ideal father, spending all his waking moments playing with his kid, putting his energy and creativity to good use, just generally making sure his son or daughter get the best childhood he's never had... but it's a fantasy for a reason, because he's grounded enough in reality to know that it's not going to work out as idyllically as that. 

He's fulfilled his and Saejima's dream of climbing the yakuza ranks, although it's come at the cost of being a notorious figure, with scars both external and internal. How is he going to protect his family? How much time is he really going to be able to dedicate to his kids? How is he going to keep them from walking the same dark path he has? Not a day passes where he doesn’t ask himself all those questions... doubly so on nights where he comes home to find that they’ve wiggled in his bed as well, cozy and safe in his partner’s arms. And it hits him that they’ve already grown up so much and he fears he’s missed out on so much, on making a positive impact in their life...

Ultimately, I don’t believe Majima would want his kids to grow up involved in the yakuza. Yet at the same time he can’t entirely hide his career. Maybe that’s a good thing because it teaches him that it's never as black and white as "if I leave, they'll be safe; if I stay, they'll die". One can raise a child to be strong and, above all, make their own decisions and carve their own path, even as a dad who's for all intents and purposes a criminal. The yakuza are, after all, a fact of everyday living, hidden in plain sight, given how pervasive they are in business and politics. A kid that's seen the flip side of the coin (within reason, because you bet Majima would still be fiercely protective of them) would surely be well equipped for life. It’s what he hopes, at least. If I thought the last ask was long...oh boy. I’d like to deeply thank all my friends off whom I’ve been bouncing these privately ideas for months now!! 💙💙💙 I didn’t think there’d be much interest in Majidad headcanons, but I’m happy to have been proven wrong!

[ateezmakemeweep]

sk8erboi!yeosang x ballerina!reader 

word count: 10k

angst, fluff, smut (tw: implications of an eating disorder)

whoever made the executive decision to put a skatepark directly across the street from a dance studio really should've put more thought into just how poorly that would've gone. 

because ever since its grand opening four months ago, you've been losing your mind. you remember when the only sound coming through the large studio window was birds chirping or the faint sound of an ice cream truck or the occasional barks of dogs greeting each other.

but now. now it's the constant racket of wheels rolling on concrete, boards flipping and clattering off the large, graffitied ramps and, of course, the obnoxious quarrels and curses coming from the group of punks you always have the displeasure of seeing (and more so hearing) every monday, wednesday and friday.

"i'm gonna kill them, i swear i'm gonna kill them one day," you complain to your friend as you untie the ribbons of your ballet shoes, "i've had enough of them!"

the sound of her snort has you whipping your head to the side, eyes squinted and eyebrow raised. "what was that laugh for?"

"oh, c'mon, you've been saying this shit for months, y/n," she says while rubbing her bruised, battered feet, "have you even spoken to them?"

"god no," you say, the disgust so evident in your voice, it's like she asked if you'd make out with them.

"well, maybe you should!" she chirps, jumping up and walking over to the windowsill. "they're really ho...nice, really nice."

"oh jesus christ," you grumble, sneering at the girl whose chin is perched on her hand like she's admiring works of art outside the window. "have you talked to them?"

"a few times," she says and you roll your eyes at the breathy, dreamy tone in her voice.

"don't tell me you like one of them."

"of course not," she says, neck craning back to shoot you a wink, "maybe just like three of them."

"oh my, god! i'm leaving." and leave you do, with her laugh echoing through the studio as she shouts that she'll see you at the next practice.

once you're outside, you peer up to see her head is still outside the second-story window staring dreamily across the street and you can't help but shout up at her. a smirk makes its way on your face when she at least has the decency to jump away and hide in embarrassment before seeing it was you.

"not nice, y/n!"

you shake your head as you make your way across the street, popping in your headphones so you can go over the routine in your head over and over and over again until your ears start bleeding and brain turns to mush.

it had been your mom's idea to stick you in dance the second you learned how to walk, wanting to see her daughter follow in her footsteps in the form of pink tutus and glittery makeup and first place trophies from competitions.

but you quickly realized dance was more than that. that it brought sense of stability and purpose you so desperately craved, a work ethic that made you want to master the art of ballet. 

because even though it makes your feet ache and bleed and you'll spend the rest of the night screaming into an ice bucket, you really have come to love it. it serves as a stress reliever for when schoolwork or your mom's nagging becomes too much.

you're only a minute and 20 seconds into the song, the pirouette techniques you've rehearsed for hours beginning to plague your mind, when a skateboard flying through the air misses your face by just a few inches.

you rip out your earbuds, classical music blaring out of them as you snap your head to the board that nearly knocked you out. a figure running past you snatches it up, about to turn and run passed you again with the quietest of hums; rage fills through you because not even an apology?

"yeah, i'm fine, thanks," and you're even a little thrown off by how how biting and sarcastic your voice sounds. 

the figure turns to look at you, a smirk threatening to cover his face as he looks you up and down in your pink leotard under white shorts and sneakers.

"my bad."

"yeah, no kidding. you could've knocked me out."

he rolls his eyes, tucking the skateboard under his arm and advancing toward you a bit more. a black hat is placed backwards on his head, your eyes narrowing at the holes in his baggy long-sleeved shirt and scuffed up vans.

"it was an accident," he says, tone calm and relaxed, "and maybe if your mozart wasn't so damn loud, you would've heard me shout."

a scoff leaves your mouth, leaning on one foot as your arms cross over your chest.

"it isn't mozart," you snap, annoyed by how calm and teasingly he's looking at you. "and you'd think you'd be a little bit better since you're here all the time. isn't the board supposed to stay under your feet?"

a laugh bubbles out of his mouth and you're gonna pretend it's the ugliest thing you've ever heard, not a nice deep boy chuckle that would normally make your heart flutter.

"you a stalker or something?"

a annoyed sigh leaves your mouth as you roll your eyes because this guy is unbelievable.

"as if. you and your annoying little posse make it really hard to concentrate during practice with those stupid deathtrap boards."

his neck cranes around you ever so slightly to survey the studio, the brick building with a large white window overlooking the picturesque town. he had figured it was a dance studio, after seeing girls walk in and out with buns and leotards and bags detailed with ballet shoes.

"ah, so you're one of those prissy dancers i take?" his head nodding across the street.

your mouth drops open at his statement only causing the smirk on his face to widen; you have half the mind to smack him with your bag.

"we're not prissy! i bet it takes a lot more skill and pain tolerance than balancing on that-"

"stupid deathtrap board? yeah, you're probably right," he says before turning his head and taking another step closer to you. "but you have to admit we look a lot cooler. where's your little tutu, constanze?"

your eyebrows pinch in confusion, giving him a strange look because who the hell is constanze?

"what are you even talking- you know what, who cares," you huff, irritation flooding through you the more you humor him with a conversation. you pop your headphones back in to start over your song, throwing him one last sneer with squinted eyes. "try to keep the board on the floor next time."

"wear a tutu next time!"

but he knows you definitely don't hear him because you just continue to walk straight, your head moving in circles and arms making subtle movements side to side. he smiles to himself watching you ‘dance’ until you turn the corner before hopping on his board and skating back into the park.

and it's the same way he skates up to you two days later as you wait to cross the street, your pink bag thrown over your shoulder as hear the familiar sound of wheels on concrete that causes your blood to boil.

"constanze, where is your tutu?" his voice whines and you look to the side to see the obnoxious boy from a few days ago now wearing a beanie.

"why are you calling me that?" you ask with an annoyed tone.

"you mean to tell me a priss like yourself doesn't know who constanze is?"

"stop calling me that! you don't see me calling you a punk."

again, that deep chuckle leaves his mouth and you wish it didn't sound so nice. wish he wasn't so carefree and calm when you can't help but feel so incredibly irritated by him.

"a punk? really?"

"yeah, really."

"what makes me a punk? the fact that i skateboard?"

your foot bounces impatiently on the concrete waiting for the walking man to appear on screen, eager to get far far away from this headache of a boy.

"amongst other....attributes."

"oh?" he hums, leaning his head against the dirty metal pole and you wanna cringe thinking about how many germs are on it. "you don't even know me, though.”

"but i know your type," you spit, now turning your body to look at him, "i know i've heard your obnoxious cursing and screaming for the past four months. and i know you call me names when you don't even know me."

"oh, but i know your type as well constanze. so stiff and rigid and orderly, i bet it's killing you that i'm on this germ infested pole right now."

your eyes widen for a split second because can he hear my thoughts? before you shake them out and squint your eyes at him.

"what's wrong with liking routine? sorry we all can't just skate off into the sunset and do ollies all day."

"oh, ollies?" he says, voice teasing and eyebrows raised like you've genuinely impressed him. "now how do you know about those?"

your cheeks warm at his tone and you praise the gods above when you see the white man signal to cross the street. you quickly turn, hitting his stomach with your bag and rushing across the street.

"come by when you’re done if you wanna learn how to do an ollie, constanze!"

you resist the urge to throw your middle finger up when he calls after you, pulling open the door and stomping up the stairs muttering under your breath.

"why the hell does he keep calling me constanze," you grumble, "and who does he think he is assuming he can just-"

"oh my gosh!" your friend squeals as she runs up to you, "what were you doing talking to yeosang!"

your body stiffens at the name, yeosang, and despite never meeting anyone else with it, you're convinced it's only reserved for annoying punks.

"how do you know his name?" you ask, walking over to plop down and take off your shoes, "he nearly knocked me unconscious with his stupid skateboard the other day!"

"oh?" she squeaks, "and you talked again today?!"

her excitement causes you to sneer at her, shaking your head because "you sound way too happy about this."

as you put on your toe cap and spacer, you listen to her mule on and on about how cool the boys look flying through the air and how hot their scars probably are and you could seriously throw up when she starts to talk about one of the boys and his skilled technique.

"what do you even know about skateboarding techniques?" you chirp; she had never seemed interested in it before.

"i don't know, there's like ollies or something, right? that's basic stuff. i'll go over and be like oooh your ollies are just so impressive-"

"i am so embarrassed, please stop talking."

she throws her head back with a giggle, plopping down in front of you to tie up your ribbons and begins to, thankfully, talk about one of the parts of the dance she's been struggling with.

but after the next two and a half hours of practice, feet bleeding and throbbing in pain, it's safe to say not a single one of you are having any more issues.

"they hurt so bad," you whine the second your shoe is off, squeezing and rubbing at your abused toes.

"that extra time was rough," your friend says, laid out flat on her back with her eyes closed.

you both just sit there for a few minutes, hoping that the throbbing in your feet will simmer so your trip home won't be spent limping and suppressing groans. but no such luck because the second you say goodbye and walk down the stairs, you wanna die.

you make your way across the street, headphones in but no music blaring because you can't even think about dancing right now. but you can absolutely think about murdering who you now know as yeosang when a very familiar looking skateboard rolls out the park gate and runs into your ankle.

"you're kidding," you snap, kicking the board roughly so it falls on it's side, "you did that on purpose!"

"i didn't, i promise," he says, "but since i caught you...can i teach you an ollie now? i've been waiting for you."

"well you waited for nothing, i'm not interested."

"c'mon, a skillful ballerina like yourself will pick it up in no time."

you roll your eyes at the sarcasm in his tone and you'd step on his skateboard if your feet weren't aching.

"i don't think i wanna learn from someone who can't seem to keep his feet on the board."

"well, then you'll just have to see how good i am," he hums lowly, flipping his skateboard over with his foot and kicking it up so he grabs it with his hand.

"wow, you can catch it," you say dryly and a smile covers his face as lets out a scoff.

"not that, wiseass, there's a competition on friday. come."

you feel your eyebrows shoot up in surprise before you squint at him suspiciously. why on earth would he be inviting you?

"and why would on earth would i do that?" you echo.

"to see me, silly constanze. and let me prove that i can teach you."

you ignore his use of the mysterious name despite the irritation flooding through you, simply rolling your eyes as you shake your head.

"not a chance, i don't feel like getting rendered unconscious. and i don't even wanna learn."

"but your friend's are coming too," he says and your eyebrow raises again because that's news to you; but then you think he may be using that as bate for your interest.

"they would never," you spit, as if they don't fawn over them constantly before and after practice. and the smirk on his face is like he knows it, too, all smug and teasing and you think it's about time to get the hell away from him.

"i'm leaving," you bluntly state, "good luck on friday. you'll need it." you hear him laugh as you turn around coldly, taking three steps before you hear

"i won't, i'll have you there."

"no you won't!" you shout before starting your music and trying not to focus on your aching feet.

"because you wouldn't!" your friend whines to you after your friday practice, "that's why i had to spring it on you, like, right now, in this very moment."

and damn yeosang who was very much correct when he said your friends were going to the competition because the second your teacher left, she ran up to you with puppy eyes and a small smile begging you to join her.

"everyone else is going, you don't need me!"

"but you're my best friend, y/n, i want you there," she whines before looking side to side and whispering, "i want you to meet wooyoung."

"who the hell is-"

her hand covers your mouth before you can get the name out, her eyes bulging and you feel your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"don't talk so loud," she whispers, "i don't want everyone knowing i like him."

"something tells me you make it very obvious," you say the second she removes her hand from your mouth.

"ugh, see, that's why i need you there!" she says while perking up, "so you can stop me from becoming an obvious, flustered mess. what if i blurt out about ollies to him."

your cheeks heat at the memory of yeosang's teasing and you let out an annoyed huff. because you know she won't stop until you say yes and she is one of your best friends and you truthfully just want her to stop looking at you with her borderline creepy puppy eyes.

"fine," you huff out, "but you're buying us food after."

"yay, yay, yay, yay! okay, deal, perfect, let's change!"

and with that, she runs off into the hallway to change and you know with absolute certainty it probably took her an hour to pick it out. like how nearly an hour later, you're sitting on the uncomfortably hard bench with far too many people shouting and whooping like this is the damn super bowl.

you look at your friend in annoyance who's just bouncing in her seat excitedly, her eyes roaming the boys lined up near the ramps until you see them light up.

"there he is!" she whisper-yells to you and you crane your neck to look at the group.

"which one?"

"the hot one! with the dark hair, in the red plaid. next to- omg, he's next to your man."

"shut your mouth," you mumble but you can't even lie that he's looking extra good today, sporting a burgundy beanie with black jeans and matching converse. he really looks like the embodiment of a skater boy, the most unfortunate tragedy being how annoying he is the second he opens his mouth.

his eyes graze the onlookers and you watch him do a double take when he sees you not only in the crowd but looking his way, a wide smirk covering his face as he waves at you. you shake your head, pointing to the girl next to you and squinting your eyes.

he squints his own back at you, nodding his head sarcastically before throwing you a wink and walking off with wooyoung to the top of the ramp.

an annoyed huff leaves your mouth, turning your head to see the dreamy look in your friend's eye. "okay mrs. obvious, calm it down," you hiss lowly, suppressing a laugh when she shakes out of your lust-induced gaze.

"who's obvious? obvious about what? their love and affection for wooyoung? nope, not me."

you can't help the laugh that rings out of your mouth now, pushing her lightly before someone welcoming guests and announcing the events into a loudspeaker cause to smirk at your friend.

"they're kidding with this loudspeaker, right?"

"sh! it's a sporting event."

and like a sporting event it was, the crowd cheering during their favorite skaters or "oohing" at the rare occasion when one would wipe out. and even you have to admit this was exciting to watch. how freely they throw themselves into the air, how smoothly they'll land on the moving boards and flip their bodies in ways that truly look like it should end in disaster.

when the voice on the speaker booms "kang yeosang" the cheers pierce your ears and you look around in surprise at the clapping and wooing crowd. they get considerably louder when he appears at the top of the ramp and you snap your head back around to see him craning his neck side to side before plopping his board down and adjusting his two feet.

you watch his fluid movements the second he starts, balanced and sharp as he dips down and then flings himself all different ways and soars into the air.

you find yourself flinching when he takes a particularly steep turn or deep dive, feeling shocked and impressed when he lands it each and every time. you don't even realize how much time has passed until he's done, standing back on the ledge holding his board up and shaking it side to side as his chest heaves in and out.

the audience is clapping, yourself included and you see him point out into the crowd before stepping off just as the name "jung wooyoung" is called out. the figure next to you jumps up, her squeals piercing your ear and successfully doing the job of snapping you back to reality. 

you halt your clapping hands, tugging her down by the arm with a chastising tone.

"you're so embarrassing, stop it," you say through gritted teeth but she only shrugs you off, wiggling in her seat happily as her eyes zone in on the boy. you watch too and if you realize you're not quite as interested in watching him, you'll never admit it.

"congratulations, wooyoung!" you friend squeals when you find him and a group of boys towards the front entrance of the park afterward, "you were amazing!"

a big smile covers his face upon seeing her and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your heart soar; perhaps he likes her as much as he likes him...

"thank you babe," he says and you try not to scrunch your nose at the term of endearment.

"i was so scared when you-"

"and look who decided to show up, after all," you hear a teasing voice say from behind you. you spin around and roll your eyes at the boy skating up to you holding a first place trophy.

"by force and harassment, don't flatter yourself," you say, eyes roaming the metal in his hand and he smirks.

"told you i was good."

you purse your lips to the side because you can't deny it now, after watching him and genuinely being impressed.

"well pardon me for my hesitance after you flung that deathtrap at me not once but twice."

"only a deathtrap if you don't know what you're doing," he say, rolling the board under his feet, "which is why we gotta schedule your lesson now."

a shocked look crosses your face, eyebrow raised skeptically. "oh, i didn't realize you were so booked and busy."

a cocky smile crosses his face as he cooly responds, "well didn't you hear all those cheers for me? i have a lot of fans."

your face pinches into one of disgust because you had realized majority of the yells were those of females.

"well, then let's not waste a highly anticipated lesson on someone who doesn't want one in the first place."

he hops off the board, sauntering towards you and turning his head to you.

"but i insist," he says, that signature smirk crossing his face, "it's the least i can do for my good luck cha-"

"ay, yeosang! let's go!" wooyoung yelps before eyeing you and a smile covers his face.

"you must be y/n! are you coming with us? i'm wooyoung, if you didn't know." 

you turn your neck to the side to see your friend with a big smile on her face and you don't think her body's stopped wiggling since you guys got here. she nods her head frantically, failing her hands in a 'come on!' motion and you plaster on the fakest smile you can muster.

"sure, thank you for inviting me," you say through gritted teeth, meeting the boy’s gaze before snapping back to your friend mouthing the words 'you owe me.' you watch the two take off, his arm thrown happily around her shoulder as she observes his second place trophy in fascination.

"you wanna see mine?" yeosang quips, holding his out in excitement but you can only roll your eyes. you side-eye a group of girls lingering next to you, pretending to plan for their next event or look at their phones when you know damn well they're trying to sneak a peak at the kang yeosang.

"i think there's others far more interested," you quip before turning around to catch up with your friend; you hear the familiar sound of a board clattering against the ground and rolling after you seconds later.

the four of you end up walking to a nearby diner, 50s inspired with red leather booths, a black and white checkered floor and elvis presley currently singing through the speakers about a devil in disguise. you were given the spot next to yeosang, listening to him and wooyoung banter back and forth about their performance.

"maybe if you didn't almost eat shit, you'd have this!" yeosang teases, patting the trophy next to him while taking a sip from his chocolate shake. 

smug and cocky from his win, it felt really good to see wooyoung put the end of his paper wrapper in his straw and blow it towards yeosang; but it felt even better when some excess of his vanilla shake went with it, promptly splattering all over the boy's face.

and yeosang really wishes he could've gotten mad but your soft giggle of a laugh just left him cursing playfully at wooyoung, wiping his face with a napkin before the waitress places your food down.

he wishes he heard you laugh more often.

you pick at your salad with your fork, letting out a quiet sigh as you smell the salty fries and burgers wafting around you. but you know the wrath of your dance instructor and most importantly, your mother, would not be worth the taste of any food.

yeosang watches you from the side of his eye pick at your meal, finishing just his burger before promptly shoving his plate next to you.

"eat."

you turn your head to look at him with hard eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

"what?"

"eat," he says, pushing his own plate until it hits your arm. but you only shove it away with your elbow, sticking your fork through a piece of lettuce and popping it in your mouth.

"i have my own food, but thanks."

an annoyed huff leaves his mouth, eyeing you seriously and you turn away from his gaze so the unfamiliar feeling of nervousness doesn't creep up on you. and then, as you open your mouth to eat another piece of lettuce, you feel the saltiness of a french fry graze your lip.

you knock your head to the side but he only follows, placing it further into your mouth. you chew the food and resist the urge to groan out in pleasure because it's been so long since you ate food like this.

but you're taught to use food as fuel, the fuel being in protein and greens and fruit and healthy fats; you know for a fact the amount of salt on this potato would not be mom approved.

"yeosang," you growl and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"constanze."

you hear the faint confused voice of your friend sitting across from you, "did you tell him that was your name, y/n?"

"no," you growl, side eyeing the boy who's holding out another french fry with a stern look, "he insists on calling me that and i don't know why."

"what an odd name for him to- wait, mozart! his wife's name was constanze!"

you fully turn to stare at the boy whose mouth is now quirked up into the biggest smirk on his face.

"it appears you're not the real priss of your group, y/n. now that is shocking."

"you are so dumb, why do you even know that," you hiss at him, smacking his arm lightly and ignoring how nice his voice sounds saying your real name, "and i wasn't even listening to mozart!"

his laugh rings through the air and you huff before attempting to turn back to your food. but his pushy, annoying, obnoxious self shoves his plate to you again and you'd scream at him if you weren't in a public setting.

"you really are such a-"

"i can't sit here and watch you pick at your food any longer," he tells you and you're surprised to hear his voice laced with the smallest hint of concern, "just eat some fries."

you meet his gaze and see they’re surprisingly soft, no hint of his usual teasing or judgment, and you sigh before snatching one up and putting it in your mouth.

"happy?"

"very," he says, smiling down at you and you ignore the way it makes your heart feel light and fluttery when your eyes occasionally meet.

but that light and fluttery feeling quickly fades away by monday. because when your mom said she’d pick you up from practice for once, you knew she had to have ulterior motives.

"hi, mom," you chirp the second you get in the car and she smiles softy at you. but there's a forced, stiffness about it.

"i checked your log before," she says before even a greeting and your face immediately drops; she makes you keep a log of your weight and hours put into practice every week.

"two pounds, y/n?" she asks and you just knew you shouldn't have put that in there. "what's that about?"

your swallow nervously, shame running through you as you tuck your head into your chin; perhaps you had ended up finishing all of yeosang's fries.

"i'm not yelling at you, dear, i just...what is that about? you know gaining weight isn't good for-"

"i know, mom," you snap, irritation running through you at the fact she thinks dear is gonna lessen the blow, "but it's only two pounds. i probably just burned it off at this practice."

"i hope so," she hums, staring up at the building and smiling softly in remoteness. "you have to work hard, every second, mind and body. you remember that, right? but especially what you put in your body and what you put-"

"on the floor mom, yeah, i know."

she lets you sit in silence for a few moments, making no attempt to put the car into drive and you look up at her curiously. 

and then there's something in her gaze, in the way she didn't tell you to put your seatbelt on or make any moves to put back on the sunglasses perched on her head that you just know what she's about to suggest. 

so before she can, before she can hurt your feelings and spirit anymore, you say the words she's thinking.

"i'll walk home," you say shortly, open the door and slamming it after you jump out, “work off some calories.”

"that's a good idea, y/n," she says before trying to soften her own guilt and be a good mother, "but are you sure? your feet must be in pai-"

"i'm sure, see you at home," you say, tears pricking behind your eyes and you quickly walk to the crosswalk so if they do happen to fall, she doesn't see. you wait for the walking man, hearing the sound of your car driving off and it's like you don't have any strength in your body.

in an effort to not completely break down in public, you walk around to the side of the building where you sometimes have outdoor practices when it's especially nice out in the spring. you open the squeaky gate and plop down against the wall, bringing your knees up and burying your head in your arms to cry just for a second.

cry because your feet and body are always in pain, cry because you're deprived of flavorful food and have forced yourself to pretend it's because you like it, cry because your mom, the person you do all of this shit for, just called you out and made you feel so incredibly shitty for gaining two pounds on your already slightly underweight body.

"y/n?" you hear and your head snaps up, hand moving to wipe your wet face quickly; but you know he already saw what was happening.

"please not now, yeosang," you beg, voice wobbly and wet and you close your eyes when you hear the squeaky gate open.

"what's wrong?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you and turning his head to the side questioningly. 

you hesitantly meet his gaze and a frown immediately covers your face when you see his eyes roaming over you with true, real concern. and you don't know if it’s that or the dozens of other factors but it causes the tears to leak from your eyes again, face crumbling before you quickly bury them back in your legs.

"please leave me alone," you cry out quietly.

"i can't do that, y/n," he says and you feel his warm hand graze your bare leg after a few moments, his thumb gently rubbing over your skin and you don't even try to fight it. 

because you think you need the slightest bit of comfort and affection right now, even if it’s him. and he does just that the whole time without uttering a word, plopping down on his butt after the squatting position burns his legs.

you look up after you feel like you've drained all your sad and frustrated and pain-ridden sobs out and he pouts after seeing your red, tear-stained eyes and puffy cheeks.

"will you tell me what's wrong if i ask again?" he asks softly, bringing his hand from your knee to your face to wipe at the excess tears under your eyes.

"no," you squeak and he swallows the lump in his throat but nods his head regardless.

"okay."

you bite your lip when you feel it start to tremble again, maybe at his understanding, and his eyes immediately move down to your lip, swallowing again when he notices the tremor.

"was that...can you at least tell me...was that your mom?" he asks, moving to wipe the tears off the other side before retracting his hand.

you sniffle, leaning your head back against the brick and nodded your head silently.

"yes, that was my...lovely mother," you say and you can't help the bitterness in your tone.

he nods his head understandingly, still roaming your puffy eyes and sad face as he finds himself saying, "parents suck."

a small humorless chuckle leaves your mouth as you nod your head against the wall, lips pursed to the side as you bite the inside of your cheek.

you two sit there silently for who knows how long, long enough for the ice cream truck to make its rounds around the park three times and then for most of the chatter coming from it to simmer. your eyes had been grazing each other ever so often, but most of the time missing each other.

because when you would look at him, you saw him staring off outside the gate absentmindley, like he was reliving some kind of memories.

and when he would look at you, you were watching your finger trace the concrete underneath you and his stomach sank at the thought that you were practicing parts of your routine.

so that's what urges him to get up abruptly, causing you to look up to see him holding his hand out to you.

"come with me?" he asks and you look at it warily before meeting his gaze.

"where?"

"just come," he says pleadingly and you find yourself sighing before taking his hand. he pulls you up gently, interlocking your fingers and you supposed you shouldn't have been surprised when he starts dragging you across the street into the park.

"are you kidding, yeosang," you say but the usual snark in your voice is empty; you just don't have the energy.

he walks you over to his board laying on it's side, kicking it up with his foot and moving so you're standing right in the middle of it.

"get on."

"i don't wanna," you whine, "what makes you think i wanna do this after having an emotional breakdown?”

"just try," he says, "and if you hate it, you can smack me over the head with the deathtrap. payback, right?"

a smile tugs at your lips so you drop your head, looking over the scuffed up board and taking a breath before looking up at him again.

"i'm holding you to that."

and with that, you step onto it hesitantly. one foot, then the other. you shudder slightly, a squeal leaving your mouth as your hands shoot out to grab onto him. a chuckle leaves his mouth at your tight grip and hesitant face.

"that was good," he says and you squint your eyes at him challengingly.

"i can't wait to knock you out."

he attempts to cover his laugh with one of his hands but you quickly reach out and grab it, an appalled look on your face.

"well, don't let me fall!"

"i won't," he says, "let's go slowly."

"i don't think that's a-" a little yelp echoes through the park when he slowly starts walking.

"you're fine, you drama queen," he mutters and a scoff leaves your mouth, "just get used to the board under your feet."

and you do as he says, grounding yourself on the board and familiarizing yourself with the slightly wobbly feeling under your feet. you loop around the park once, your screeches and his laughs echoing during the few instances he let go of your hands.

"alright, get off," he says, both hands still in yours when you get down slowly.

"that was a great lesson, glad we did it," you say sarcastically but he only rolls his eyes, moving his hands down to your hips and turning you to face the front of the board.

"not quite done yet," he says and the way his breath fans against your ear has you biting your lip because whoa, has his voice always been so deep and nice? "put one foot on the board, leave the other one on the ground and just travel slowly."

you huff as you put your feet in the positions, his hands on either side of you but not touching you. you begin to slowly move, your foot on the ground slowly stepping forward; it's slow and basic but you're doing it.

"this really is skateboarding for dummies," you say and he lets out a chuckle.

"alright then mrs ollie, let's see you put your traveling foot on the board."

you roll your eyes at him before stepping three times and then bringing both feet up onto the board. but you quickly wobble, his arm wrapping around your waist before you have the chance to fall off.

"see what happens when you get cocky," he mumbles and you elbow his stomach lightly.

"shut up, i should make you do a grande jeté."

"okay but we're skateboarding right now, not learning french."

you nearly fall off the board again from the sheer power of your laugh, your head leaning to side as it lands on his shoulder.

"oh my, gosh, it's a ballet jump!" you squeal and you only realize how close you are to him when you hear his chuckle right by your ear. you pick yourself up and stay on the board, flustered by your closeness but before you can even dwell on it, his hands are off of you.

"let's try again."

you practice and practice and practice until you're able to fully push off and stay steady on the board.

"yeosang! look! i'm doing it!" you squeal happily and he smiles, humoring you by clapping his hands together for the 8th time.

"you'll be doing an ollie in no time," he teases and you squint at him before getting off the board, turning it around, and charging towards him.

he chuckles seeing you flying toward him, moving to the side and grabbing you by the waist when you pass him on the board.

"ah, stop it!" you screech but your giggling ringing through the air says otherwise. he plops you down in front of him, the sun about to set as the town around you turns quiet. it's like you two are the only ones out right now, with squeals and smiles and laughs filling the park.

"so, am i a good teacher or what?" he asks, eyes teasing as they look at you.

"you're okay," you drag out, smiling softly when he squints his eyes at you. "i mean, good for a first place winner i guess."

his eyes move to your lips for a second, his heart warming at the smile broad on your face and small giggles leaving it.

"you should laugh more," he says and your smile dims ever so slightly as you stare at him blankly. "it's really... it's nice."

his voice is so quiet and soft, it's reminding you of how he comforted you just a few hours ago. you bite your lip ever so slightly, shy eyes meeting his before you advert them down to your sneakers.

"i guess i have only yelled at you..." you say quietly but the guilty amusement in your tone causes him to chuckle lightly. he lifts your face with his pointer finger, his soft smile making your heart warm and constrict like it did at the diner.

"the yelling is fine too," he says, "but i definitely prefer your laugh." you scrunch your nose up at him when his finger bops it softly, turning your head to the side as you roll your eyes playfully.

the quietness between you two is back, not an awkward or tense silence. just a calm, peaceful silence thats making something in you feel so... settled and content. like the last few hours were able to wipe all of your negative feelings from after practice away.

"thank you," you find yourself saying quietly, "i...i was so upset before but you really..you really helped me then and even with this, so..." you fumble over your words, your eyes switching from his to the park behind him back to him as you say, "thank you, yeosang."

he's never heard your voice so quiet and unsure and he thinks he might be crazy for feeling the urge to kiss you right now. the air feels thick and charged and buzzing between you both, all lingering gazes and soft smiles. but he still doesn't. doesn't think it's the right time or place and can't properly gauge if that's something you'd even want right now.

but he does lift his hand to your hair, tucking the slightly sweaty strand behind your ear as he smiles down at you softly. "you're welcome, y/n."

and without much protest, you're back in the park friday after practice watching wooyoung help your friend on the skateboard like yeosang did with you just a few nights ago. your heart warms at the memory, his gazes and soft, warm touches and the way you see how he's nothing like the obnoxious punk you first accused him of being.

you sit on the bench with your legs crossed, watching him show a group of young boys (and to your pleasant surprise, three girls) the safest way to attempt to ride down the railing of the three-stair drop in the park. 

you watch as the kids look at him in amazement, clapping their hands and whooping every time he lands it. he watches them attempt it with a guarded gaze, his eyes flicking to you every so often and you either nod your head at him or wave at him with your fingers and a small smile on your face.

your smile drops a few moments later, however, when you watch his skateboard wobble on the rail, promptly sending him flying off as he lands right on his shoulder. you shout his name in surprise, making your way into the circle of kids surrounding him and bending down to look at him.

luckily, he was wearing a helmet for once and there's only the slightest presence of a pained sneer on his face.

"jesus! are you okay?" you ask and soon enough, you see the huge gash start to ooze blood.

"i'm fine," he grunts out, "see what i did there kids? definitely don't do that!"

"does anyone have a tissue or napkin?" you ask and a little girl with long hair tied in a ponytail fishes one out of her pocket. "thank you."

you hold the tissue to his shoulder, cringing when you see how deep it is as you help him to his feet. he snaps off his helmet, twisting his neck to the side and you hear a crack.

"oh my, god please tell me your neck is okay," you breathe out in a panic, "neck injures can be potentially-"

"i'm fine, y/n," he says and you could smack him if he wasn't already bleeding at the amusement in his tone.

"you're bleeding through this pretty damn quickly for someone who's fine," you snap, holding the red tissue, "come with me."

you drag him across the street and up into the dance studio, plopping him down on one of the folding chairs before hurrying into the back office where your instructor keeps the first-aid kit. you quickly get to work, apologizing softly when you dab at his wounds with alcohol before smoothing over an antiseptic cream and large band-aid.

"are you hurt anywhere else?" you ask and he shakes his head, leaning back on the chair and tapping his arm lightly.

"all good now, thanks to nurse y/n."

you roll your eyes at him, throwing the wrapper of the band-aid at him before sauntering back into the office. you come out a few moments later to see him in front of the mirror, his hand running over the bar before he stands in front of the window. he can hear the bustling of the boards and wheels on concrete, smiling when the kids land a trick and cheer in unison.

"see, we hear all your punk nonsense," you say teasingly and he turns around with a smirk on his face.

"punk nonsense that you're a part of now."

"oh please, i can barely turn around on the deathtrap," you say as you walk up to him, catching both of your appearances in the mirror and it's a little surreal that he's here with you right now.

you had convinced yourself you hated him the second you saw him, heard him, not even knowing him but having an irrational dislike flood through you just at the sound of his wheels on the sidewalk. and now you can't tear your gaze away, swallowing nervously because you think you might like him a little bit and you have to get out of here.

he turns and his eyes meet yours through the mirror, smiling when he notices the pink blush covering your cheeks.

"we should go ba-"

"now wait a minute," he interrupts, grabbing your hand the second you try to walk off, "aren't you gonna teach me how to dance."

he pulls you further into him and you swallow the nervous lump in your throat. why are you all the sudden so nervous and warm?

"you can't when you're injured," you say, rubbing over his band-aid and inhaling sharply at his warm, exposed skin.

"i am not injured, y/n," he says teasingly, "come on. show me a little something."

you squint your eyes at him, cursing your heart that's starting to pick up and you let out a huff.

"do that french shit."

and because you're completely under his spell, you shake your head to lessen the laugh rumbling through your chest and proceed to walk over to the other side of the room.

"move back, i don't wanna hit you."

you take a deep breath and position your feet on the ground, extending your arms into fourth position before raising your leg and taking a deep breath. then, like you're basically permanently ingrained to do, you leap into the air. your other leg quickly follows, both of them now in a full, airborne split before landing securely on your feet and into the finishing position.

you take a breath before turning to yeosang who's looking at you with his mouth in a small o, surprise and admiration in his eyes.

"that was...i was...you're amazing."

a humorless laugh leaves your mouth, rolling your eyes at him as you shake your head.

"that's a simple ballet jump," you tell him and he looks at you with a hint of disbelief.

"nothing about that looked simple."

"that's because you're a measly skater boy," you tease, walking up to him and poking his chest lightly.

a small chuckle leaves his mouth, grabbing your hand before you can take it back and intertwining your fingers. "you did tell me early on that ballet takes a lot more skill."

a guilty smile makes its way on your face and he smirks upon seeing it. "it's okay, perhaps you were right."

"no," you say softly as you shake your head, "watching you fling yourself into the air made me nervous and impressed even when i hated you."

his eyebrow raises ever so slightly, his hand tightening in yours as the other one makes its way to your face. "yeah?" he muses, moving over your cheek gently, "and now you what? like me?"

your mouth snaps shut and you feel your cheeks grow red. you hadn't even meant to...confess like that but you're just feeling so...overwhelmed and warm and surrounded by him for some reason.

maybe because he's in your space, where your mind was secretly already plagued by him. 

or maybe because there's something about seeing both of your reflections in the mirror, seeing how his eyes rake over your face and body and how you look standing pressed up to him, how you now look with him bending down and bringing his face closer to yours.

"i...i didn't...i-"

"i hope so," he mumbles lowly, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear so he can whisper, "because i think i like you."

you let out a breathy exhale, the feel of his body pressed up against yours and his hot breath in your ear causing you to shudder against him. he takes your strangled breaths as confirmation back, his chest warming and a smile on his face; but he wants the words from you.

he hums lowly in your ear and it causes you to press yourself just a little bit more into him as you mumble, "i like you too."

he pulls back to see your flushed face and roaming eyes, adams apple bobbing as he tries his best to control his fast approaching arousal. but when your gaze meets his lips, it all goes out the window. the hand grasping yours moves to your face, both now cupping your cheeks softly and as his brings his lips down.

but before they graze over your mouth, he mumbles a deep "can i kiss you?" and it's all the motivation you need to pull him into you.

your lips collide and part on one another, your hand reaching to brush through the back of his hair as he slips his tongue in your mouth. you stumble around the floor for no other reason than your need to kiss and tongue ever part of each other's mouth is overwhelming the both of you, teenage hormones and pent up frustrations and emotions being poured into one another.

you feel yeosang move you until your back hits the bar, his hands running down your body until his hands land on your hips. he squeezes them softly, breaking the kiss to get air before his wet lips meet your neck.

"i wanted to kiss you when i first met you," he mumbles against your skin, "but only because you were such a brat. had so much shit pent up, didn't you?"

you bite your lip to hold back a moan, his voice and words quickly sending sparks through your body. you hadn't expected him to be like this during....

"but i have you quiet now, it seems," he says and you feel his smile against your skin. "i saw you watching us in the mirror."

your eyes widen and cheeks flame even more; you were hoping he wouldn't notice but you were kind of openly gawking.

"i-i'm sorry," you say and you're not exactly sure why you're even apologizing, "i don't know, i just....like seeing you. us."

he presses his hips further into you, finally letting a moan escape you at the feel of his bulge against you. you grind yourself further into him and he hisses, gripping your hips roughly before dragging you back towards the middle on the furthest side of the mirror, strategically away from the window.

"can i try something," he mumbles as he moves to stand behind you, "i want you to watch."

"i..o-okay."

"if you want me to stop, say the word."

and with that, your eyes bulge and wetness pools as you watch him run his hand along the side of your body. his hand grazes over the side of your boob, moving to palm you until your nipple hardens under his touch and he slips into your shirt. he groans quietly in your ear when he feels your skin against his hand and you throw your head back onto his shoulder.

"yeosang," you mumble but then he quickly removes it and you let out a tiny groan.

"eyes in the mirror or i'm not doing anything."

he wishes he could kiss the pout off your face when you look back up, glossy eyes meeting his in the mirror as you cock your head to the side. "more, please."

and more he does, his hand back in your shirt tweaking at your nipple before he quickly starts work on the other one. he continues to hum in your ear, praising you when your moans echo throughout the studio and you push back onto his growing bulge.

but it's when his hand snakes between your thighs and you have to watch as he rubs over you that you really start to lose it, cry out his name and feel your legs start to wobble as you see the way his hand strokes you over and over and over again.

"yeosang, please," you whine and his smile at you through the mirror is nearly sadistic, so far off from the fun, teasing, cool-tempered boy you've come to know.

"please what, baby?" and your stomach swoops because that's the first time you've heard those words leave his deep voice.

"i...i don't know, just..." your eyes roll back and the second he sees they’re not focused on the mirror, he pulls his hand away.

"yeosang!" you whine, your eyes popping open immediately and craning your neck to look back at him. but he bumps his hips into the back of yours, holding you against his body so you don't fall forward as he grabs the waistband of your shorts.

"you know the rules, you priss," he bites and you can't believe how quickly that name changed from irritation in your veins to wet arousal pooling in your underwear.

"i'm sorry," you whine and it's all he needs to dip his hand into your shorts, sinking his hand down to rub the wet patch on your underwear and you moan out at the feeling.

"you're so wet, baby," he muses in your ear, "this is all for me, yeah?"

"yes," you moan out and you're so tempted to close your eyes at how good it feels.

"you've been so good for me lately," he hums, slipping passed your thong and hissing himself when he feels your wet arousal on his fingers, "but i have to make sure you keep being good."

"yes," you moan out again and your knees nearly buckle when you feel him brush his finger across your clit. "oh my, god." your breathy whines fill the room and it's enough for him to quicken his pace, flicking and toying at your clit while one hand holds your waist because he feels your legs shaking in front of him.

"yeosang, oh..oh, my-" a loud moan leaves your mouth and your head dips back for a second before you quickly fling it forward, eyes half open as you watch him his hand move in your shorts and his mouth by your ear.

"you feel good, baby? like seeing me with my hand in this pretty pussy?"

"yes," you moan out, "yes, yes, yes." and you moan it like a mantra. a mantra that only gets louder when he pushes his finger into your tight hole, moving in and out and making you feel full as he rubs over your clit until a tightening in your lower half has your legs vigorously shaking under you.

"yeosang! fuck fuck, fuck! i think i'm gonna-"

and before you can get it out, your eyes shut and moans leave your mouth as you come apart from his fingers, your eyes desperately trying to stay open just in case his rules still apply and he takes away the best, most intense orgasm you've ever felt in your life. 

your legs are shaking and you would've collapsed right on your knees if yeosang hadn't tightened the arm around your waist, holding you flush against him and even in the middle of an orgasm, the feeling of his hard cock against you has you wanting to do more.

only the sound of your harsh breathing can be heard in the room after a few moments so he pulls his hand out and guides you around to plop you down in the chair a few feet away. you stretch your legs out, leaning your head back and holding your hair away from your sweaty neck. 

he smiles at the sight of seeing you fucked out from just his fingers, resisting the urge to make you watch him taste your arousal; but he thinks that may be a little too much for you right now; he also needs to calm down the raging boner in his pants.

your head flings back up a few moments later, vision a bit hazy and your legs tingling but the smile on your face almost immediate.

"hey there, baby," he says and your smile widens because you hope that name is here to stay. "so the ballerina has a mirror kink, after all."

a choked laugh leaves your mouth, embarrassment flooding through you as you cover your hands over your red face.

"stop," you whine, "i....i guess we just confirmed that one," you mumble and you hear his chuckle fill the room as he bends down. he places his hand on your exposed knees, kissing both of them before squeezing softly.

"you good?"

"i'm great," you assure before looking at his face, "but wait...don't you need to...?"

"i'm good," he tells you, his soft smile an indication he's telling the absolute truth, "i think i wanna take you on a date before we do that again."

warmth and excited butterflies run through your stomach and chest, a small, sweet smile covering your face.

"really?" and he can't help but laugh at the sweet, almost disbelief in your voice.

"what the hell, did you miss the part where i said i liked you?"

you purse your lips to the side, shrugging your shoulders teasingly.

"i don't know...a lot did just happen," you say, "like i found out about my mirror kink."

a snort leaves his mouth, looking back and waving at you through the glass with a wink.

"we got tons of time to find out more of your kinks," he promises, "but for now. a date. how's tomorrow?"

"tomorrow's great," you say and he stretches up to place a chaste kiss on your lips before pulling away and admiring your smiley, pink-tinted face. he watches as you look back at the mirror, your eyes lowering until another embarrassed laugh bubbles out of your mouth.

"what?" he asks, humor in his tone.

"i just...i don't know how i'm ever gonna look at this mirror the same."

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Field of Poppies Part 10

Summary: After being apart for six years, childhood friends Tommy and Amelia reunite under odd circumstances. Tommy is an outspoken young man and Amelia is pregnant and out on the streets. The bond of family can be unbreakable but it is tested often. Especially when Europe descends into war.

Part 10: Tommy gives Amelia a promise and Amelia talks to John about love.

//I cannot for the life of me remember if I gave Amelia a last name. And if I did, I can't find it. So if anyone remembers me writing a last name, you get fifty bonus stars. 

            Things were fine for a bit. Amelia put all her effort into looking after Max. Tommy worked pretty much all day and then some nights he’d be at meetings with Greta and Freddie. At night, he gave Amelia a rest from Max, making sure the baby was taken care of. He was growing accustomed to sleepless nights, even when Max started sleeping through the whole night. He would often stay up for hours, writing, planning. He would stay up at his desk near Max’s cot, squinting to see in the dim light. Usually, both Amelia and their son would sleep through it. Sometimes she would complain and tell Tommy to come to bed. He said he would but instead, went downstairs so she could go back to sleep peacefully.

            There never seemed to be enough hours in the day. Tommy’s mind was always whirring with things. With everything going so well, he began to feel invincible. And inevitably, pushed his luck too far.

                       One morning, when Max was six months and spring was just beginning to bloom, John came bursting in through the door.

            “Tom’s been arrested!” He shouted, breathless from his sprint back home.

            “What?” Amelia startled and turned to Polly who was looking after Max.

            “Jesus.” The woman sighed and handed Max back to Amelia.

            “What happened?” Amelia questioned John.

            “We were at the bullring and some coppers came up and arrested him!” John was wide-eyed. Police weren’t something the Shelbys were unfamiliar with. Often times, Arthur Sr. would be tossed in jail for the night due to petty theft or disorderly conduct due to drinking. Arthur and Tommy learned to not trust the police officers from their father and would sometimes tease local officers they knew well. But neither of them had ever been jailed. Usually, they were given a warning or marched home to be scolded by their mother. But now that they were older, and the things they were getting into, it was only a matter of time before law enforcement took notice.

            “On what charges?” Polly asked, the more level-headed of the three in the room. She’d been cleaning up after Shelby messes for years and knew the drill.

            “I dunno.”

            “Pol, what do we do?” Amelia held Max close.

            “I’ll handle it.” She promised and went to get her coat. “Stay here with the boys. Don’t answer the door for anyone.”

            Gripped with fear, Amelia nodded. She trusted Polly. Trusted her to know what to do in dark times.

            John prided himself in being as tough as his brothers even though he was younger. But Tommy’s arrest had greatly shaken him up. He always thought his older brothers were invincible. That’s how they acted. No one could touch them. But seeing the police wrestle Tommy to the ground and put handcuffs on him was too much.

            Amelia could see the fear in the teenager’s eyes. “Are you hungry, John?” She did her best to try and have some normalcy. There was no need to panic yet. Polly could handle everything.

            John shook his head.

            “Okay. Could you hold Max for me for a mo’?” She wondered. “I just have to grab something upstairs.”

            He nodded and walked over to take the baby from her arms. He sat down at the kitchen table, quietly cradling Max.

            “Thank you.” Amelia gently touched his shoulder before heading upstairs. There wasn’t anything she needed to grab. She just needed a moment to collect her thoughts. She locked herself in the bathroom and splashed some cold water on her face. This couldn’t be the direction their life was going. She would not tolerate Tommy flitting in and out of jail. He promised her he would be there for her and especially for Max. She didn’t want there to come a time when Max was old enough to know what was going on. When he asked why daddy wasn’t coming home.

            No, Amelia would much rather be on her own than live through that.

 ~~~~~~~~~

            As Polly expected, it wasn’t too difficult to get Tommy out of jail. He’d only been taken in because Danny had gotten in a scuffle with the police. They’d gotten Danny and locked him up for a day but Tommy, who was present, had given them the slip.

            Polly waited as they released Tommy who looked disgruntled. But that was nothing compared to the icy glare from his aunt.

            “Pol…”

            “Don’t.” She jabbed a finger at him. “You are marching home right now and apologizing to your poor brother. He was in a state seeing you get arrested. And Amelia too. You made a promise to her, Thomas, you cannot run around like some common street criminal. Be better.” She urged before striding off back to Watery Lane.

            Tommy sighed and followed behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

            Amelia was upstairs when Tommy and Polly returned. John and Ada were looking after Max who was contently sleeping in his bassinette in the kitchen.

            “Tom!” John looked beyond relieved when he saw his brother walk through the door.

            “Hello, hello.” Tommy let his sister hug him tightly.

            “John said you got arrested!” Ada said. “I thought we’d never see you again.”

            “S’alright. I’m sorry for causing a fuss.” He said. “John, you shouldn’t have seen that, that was my fault.”

            John nodded. “I knew you’d be alright.” He said, trying to maintain his image as a Shelby boy. He didn’t want his brother to know that he was just as scared as Ada was.

            “Where’s Mel?” Tommy asked when Ada finally let go of him.

            “Upstairs,” John answered.

            Polly nodded. “I’ll watch the baby.”

            Tommy headed up to the bedroom, knocking a couple of times before Amelia let him in. She embraced him.

            “Tom, for fuck’s sake. I was so worried.” She gasped.

            “It’s okay.” He promised and hugged her back.

            “What happened? Why were you arrested?”

            “Something to do with Danny, it was just a little mishap.” He assured her. “Nothing big. They didn’t charge me with anything.”

            “Christ, Tommy, you can’t play these games.” She warned but still wouldn’t let go of him. “You know how the police are, you can’t keep attracting their interest or they’ll never leave you alone.”

            “It’s alright, Mel. It’s over.” He felt her push him away, much to his surprise.

            “That’s all it ever is with you, isn’t it? It’s fine. It’s done. It’ll be alright. That’s all you ever say to me anymore!” She moved away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. “You keep promising me all these nice things, that you’ll always be there for me and always be there for Max. Then what happens? You’re arrested! And I can’t imagine this will be the last time.”

            “Mel…”

            “I hear things, Tommy, I hear what people are saying about you. What they’re calling you and Arthur and Danny an-and everyone else. You think this is right?”

            Tommy ran a hand over his face, exhausted by the day. He sat down with a heavy groan. “Mel-”

            “The police don’t care, they’ll keep locking you up and then you’ve broken your promise to me and Max because you won’t have been there for us.” She paced the small room. “Is that what you want? You have so much potential, Tommy. You’re so much more than this. I don’t want you to rot away. I don’t want this city to make you some low-life like your father!”

            “Oi!” Tommy shouted as she had hit a nerve. He stood up and grabbed her arm to stop her from pacing. “I am not my fucking father. I will never be him. You say I have potential, yeah? Think I can just go out and make money like those fuckers in London, aye? They’ve got blue blood, they were born with money, Mel. I can’t make money the way they do. You’d have me go work in the factories? Fourteen-hour shifts every day? I could work all day and all night for the rest of me life and never make enough money to keep food on the table.”

            Amelia had tears in her eyes. “You don’t understand, I don’t care about money. I will be happy with whatever I have at the end of the day as long as I have you and Max. I don’t want you to end up in prison or killed because you want money. I will suffer and starve if it means keeping you safe.”

            He let go of her arm, shaking his head. “I won’t. I won’t starve and I won’t fucking suffer. Not anymore.”

            Amelia wiped her eyes. “So, I’m meant to wait for the call one day that you’ve been found killed?”

            “That won’t happen…”

            “You don’t know that!” She shouted. “You can’t control life, Tommy. If you go looking for trouble, you’ll bloody well find it eventually!”

            He went to his desk and pulled out a few pieces of paper. “See that.” He pointed forcefully.

            Amelia shook her head, not even willing to look. She felt like she’d been made a fool of by trusting him.

            “Five years.” He thumped his hand on the desk. “Five years and we’ll be legitimate. We’ll have a license; we’ll be operated legally. The money will come and there will be no need for worry about coppers.”

            “Those are just words.”

            “It’s my promise, Mel.” He cupped her cheeks so she would look at him. “Five years isn’t too long. I’ll be careful and nothing will happen. I may get nicked a few times but I’ll always be home for you the same day. Five years and we’ll be able to get a house and send Max to a proper school.” He wiped some of her tears away. “And if by five years I haven’t kept my promise, I’ll give you all the savings I have so you can have your own life with Max.”

            She sniffled and knotted her fingers in his hair. “You think it would be so easy to walk away from you?”

            Tommy sighed and wrapped his arms around her, letting her bury herself in his chest. He knew it would be impossible to walk away from her and Max, so he could assume she felt the same way. “Five years won’t be long.” He promised. “After that, we’ll have everything we could ever want.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Hey, Mel?”

            “Mhm?”

            Both John and Amelia were sharing a very rare quiet dinner together. Arthur and Tommy were working late in the shop while Polly cared after Finn and Ada who had both come down with a nasty cold.

            Now fifteen, John was starting to grow into himself. No longer was he the little boy who was trying so desperately to be like his big brothers. He was growing and his voice had deepened a bit as well. It was odd because Amelia had hazy memories of seeing John as an infant. To see him grow so fast was alarming. It made her think of Max, hoping that time wouldn’t pass by so quickly with him.

            “How d’you know when you love someone?” He asked. Of course, it was a question the teenager would never ask his brothers. And, his baby sister would only tease him too. Polly wouldn’t be much help either. So, it seemed that the only confidante he had was Amelia, who he always looked at as an older sister.

            “Well, I suppose it isn’t easy to really know right away.” Amelia wasn’t that surprised about the conversation. She could recall being young and only thinking about romance and going steady with someone. Of course, that someone was usually Tommy. Although there was a small stint of time when he fell out of favor with her for a forgotten reason, and she chose to fantasize about George Connelly. Yet, it was Tommy’s initials she carved next to hers on the stone bridge by the canal.     

            She was so lovesick for him. But in all reality, she wasn’t sure she really knew what love was at that point. “It should be someone you know very well. Someone you get along with.”

            John gave her a look. “Of course.”

            She smiled. “Well, I don’t know how to explain it. It’s just a gut feeling.”

            He seemed a bit dismayed by the vague response. “I think I’m in love.” He confided.

            “Oh yeah?”

            “Yeah. Bloody stupid, Martha Boswell.” He muttered, disgruntled that he had developed feelings for the girl who had tormented him practically his entire life.

            “Do you think she feels the same way?” Amelia wondered. She couldn’t help but think how all-knowing Polly was. She must’ve known right from the start that the two were made for each other, just like she said she knew about her and Tommy.

            John got a little sheepish. “Yeah, we kissed at the fair. We’ve been writing back ‘n forth.” He admitted.

            “Then why are you so concerned about labeling things? Why can’t you just write back and forth and see where it takes you?”

            He grimaced. “’Cause her mum wants her to get married to this boy. But she says she doesn’t want to marry him. I said I could ask her mum if we could get married instead.”

            “Oh, John, you two are awfully young.” Amelia hesitated at the idea. Even if they were meant to be together, they should have the right to let the relationship grow organically, not have it forced on them.

            “I know.” He muttered. “But I don’t want to have her marry some other prick.” He seemed saddened at the idea of letting her go.

            “Maybe…maybe you can talk to Polly about talking to Martha’s mum.” She offered. “Arrange something more…reasonable.”

            He perked up a bit at the idea. “Would you talk to Pol with me?”

            Amelia nodded. “Of course. Let’s talk to her when Finn and Ada get a bit better.”

            John smiled. “Thanks, Mel.”

            The doors between the flat and the shop opened and Tommy came in looking tired. He tousled John’s hair and gave Amelia a kiss on the cheek. “Finn ‘n Ada getting better?” He asked.

            Amelia could sense some frustration or stress in his voice. “They’re still coughing a lot.” She answered. “Why don’t you eat something? I can make you a plate.” She offered.

            His eyes were wandering aimlessly around the room, not fully paying attention to her. “No, not right now, thanks.”

            Nervous something was wrong; Amelia tried a different route. “Do you want to take a walk with me?”

            He nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He agreed and helped her stand up. “John, could you look after Max for a bit?”

            After Amelia had helped him out, he nodded. “Okay.”

   ~~~~~~~~~~~        

            After they bundled up, Tommy and Amelia headed out into the cold winter night. He held her hand as they walked silently for a bit. Amelia wordlessly led him down to the canal, down beneath the bridge.

            “What’s wrong?” She asked.

            “Nothing.”

            “Tom, tell me.” She urged.

            He finally looked at her. “I’m just a little stressed.” He admitted.

            She guided him over to the stones, searching a bit before she found the telltale marker. “Look.” She pointed to the carving she’d made over five years ago.

            TS+AM

            “You made that?” Of course, he could recognize their initials instantly.

            “When we were twelve, thirteen, maybe.” She explained. “I just…I wanted you to know that you mean more to me than I think you realize. I need you to know how much I care for you.”

            Tommy nodded. “I know.” He said softly before leaning down to kiss her. Her lips were cold from the wintery air but soon warmed.

            Amelia could only imagine how thrilled her younger self would be had she known this was her future. Kissing Tommy Shelby by the canal just as it started to snow.

            They parted but he kept her close, savoring in her warmth among the chill. “Will you marry me?” He asked quietly.

            “What?” She found his eyes.

            He dropped a hand from her cheek so he could reach into his coat pocket, pulling out a diamond ring. It was modest, but for Small Heath, it might’ve been the Hope Diamond.

            Amelia’s breath caught in her throat. “Tom…how did…where did you get this?”

            “I’ve been saving, since right before Max was born. I’ve wanted this well…ever since you came back.” He let out a shy laugh. “I saw you there and realized how much I still loved you after all those years. I just know that I want to be with you for the rest of my life.”

            “Oh, Tommy.” She gasped and kissed him deeply.

            “So, will you?” He asked between breaths.  

            “Yes, yes, of course.” She agreed vehemently before pulling him back to her and kissing him again.

Permanent tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla​ @giftofdreams​ @biba3434​ @kimmietea​ @karmezii​ @enrapturedbythemoon​ @vampgirl1997​ @tarafaithe​ @evelynshelby​

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Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[imagine-loki]

The Naughty Poltergeist

TITLE :The Naughty Poltergeist

CHAPTER: #1 of ?

AUTHOR'S: lokilover9 & velvetzybanshee

RATING: M

NOTES: This one shot is based on Loki having paid penance for ruining Thor's coronation. He never fell from the bifrost, nor attacked earth and is now free. Not to discount his true history, we just thought he deserved some happy. As for Felipe, he's based on the Spanish character Agador Spartacus, from the movie  The Birdcage and speaks in broken english. 

EXTRAS: Madre = mother  niña = girlfriend  panocha = pussy

Original Imagine  

Imagine thinking your new house is haunted. No one knows Loki lives there because he's always invisible and conjures furniture as needed. Disgruntled by your presence, he behaves like a poltergeist until one day you've had enough."I'm not leaving! Show yourself dammit!" Nothing happens for days and you think he's gone. Then while giving friends a tour, you find him naked on your bed drinking whiskey. "Cheers, darling. You did say show myself." Only you can see him and he follows you around like that for the remainder of their visit.

Loki was content residing on Midgard. With Thor King of Asgard remaining heavily influenced by Odin, he felt displaced as ever and decided to travel abroad. It was aloud providing he didn't hide from Heimdall and returned were the realm threatened, but that didn't mean he behaved. Midgard's continents teamed with beautiful maidens and Loki spent months at a time seducing them across the globe. Yet an introvert by nature, the constant socializing became exhausting. He needed intervals of solitude to rejuvenate his mind and cock. Indecisive of where, he conjured a world map, closed his eyes and randomly chose a location. 

First attempt. "A Frost Giant in the Amazon? I think not." 

Second. "Middle of the Bermuda Triangle? Know enough aliens already, thank you." 

Third. "Inside and active volcano? Fenrir's arsehole." He scoffed. 

Fourth. "Very well. Maine it is." 

The god settled in a vacant Victorian evicting its two following buyers with  'ghostly' shenanigans. Yet to the king of this miniature palace's annoyance the next didn't frighten so easily. 

Alexis was proud having bought her own house after a long divorce. Closer to friends and hours from meddling family, she'd thought herself free of troubles until sensing the place haunted. While unpacking, items started going missing and resurfacing in different places like her keys, clothing and once her vibrator after an evening of ménage à moi, disturbingly appeared in her dishwasher the next morning. Doors would slam, electricity short circuited, faucets unexpectedly ran, but most disconcerting was a voice randomly whispering 'mine' into her ear. Whether in the shower, her yard, doorways, the ghost didn't care. Alexis burned sage, had the house blessed, held a seance with a local paranormal group, but nothing helped. When returning after a long day at work to find half the main floor repacked, she angrily shouted into the air. 

"Ha ha, trickster! You don't scare me and I am 'not' leaving!" She held up a large envelope. "This is 'my' crib and here's the deed to prove it. Show yourself dammit!" Nothing happened so she put everything back, showered, grabbed her vibrator and stormed into the upstairs corridor. "And one more thing! See this? Touch it again and I'll summon your ass with a ouija board and douse you in holy water!" 

Loki inwardly chuckled. 'I'll be sure to bring a towel.' When she fell asleep reading in bed, he snuck a peek at what had intrigued her. 'Smutty fanfiction? Tisk, darling. Who could your heartthrob be? The name sounded familiar so he googled it. 'Ah, the actor from Crimson Peak. Good movie, but I'm much better looking. 'A wicked grin curled his lips when she moaned Tom's name. 'Maybe I need to play a little 'dirtier.'

With the next several days uneventful, Alexis thought she'd frightened the ghost off when in reality he was buying time. Since moving her in friends offered extra hands in their free time, but it was her befriended neighbor, a single gay man with a flamboyant, funloving personality who'd helped the most. They met one afternoon when she peered over his fence to complain about blaring Salsa music as he hosted a pool party. Felipe was sunbathing in a yellow thong, wearing sunglasses with enough bling to impress Liberace and choked on a shot of tequila when she whipped a pebble at his head. He invited her over with a promise to adorn shorts, they hit it off and became besties. 

Alexis planned to have other friends over for dinner one month after moving in, but with all the goings on had postponed twice. Now with a set date, Felipe was invited too and asked what she planned to cook.

"Who said anything about cooking? I suck at it Amigo and prefer no one hurling on my lawn." 

She waved a take out menu and he dramatically gasped. "Chinese food for eight people? Where you gonna put up you blow job booth to pay the mortgage after?"

Alexis smirked. "You're such a slut, Felipe."

He shrugged. "Happy whoopie stick makes a happy me."

"I think I've forgotten what they look like." 

"I show you mine, but no touchy touchy." She laughed, knowing he was kidding. "Too long without sex causes brain damage, niña. How long its been for you?" 

"Since my ex and I separated nineteen months ago."

"Ay dios mio. I lend you my Dustbuster for the cobwebs down there."

"Not funny, Felipe." 

"See. Abstinence makes everyone bitchy. My sister Maritza too. She was happy single before becoming a nun. Now she's Oscar the grouch with eyes like the chucky doll."

"How come you can pronounce words like 'abstinence' and 'cock' so well yet not others?" Alexis teased.

"Don't make me spank you. Come, we go shopping."

"For what?"

"I help you cook. We stay home and talk about cock, mine will curse me in Spanish. He's lonely too."

Alexis slipped on footwear. 

"Why you wearing those?" Asked Felipe.

"What's wrong with flip flops?" 

He stepped onto the porch. "You need something sexier, like bitch boots."

"It's ninety degrees in the shade today."

"So?"

Loki sighed when the door closed, relieved for some peace. He thought Felipe annoying enough as a neighbor yet worse as a guest who never stopped talking. So much so, he'd pondered concocting a tongue numbing spell, sneaking into his house and applying a heavy dose while he slept. But knowing his flair for drama, he'd run panicked to Alexis in the Boo from Monsters Inc. robe worn onto his deck every morning, carrying a note pleading to stay and until recovering, would hysterically sob each time he couldn't sing along to one of the show tunes on his phone. Loki opted to tolerate him for now. He'd be gone once Alexis left. 

The day of feasting came and while she handled finishing touches around the house, Felipe prepared guacamole dip and ingredients for fajitas while mixing margaritas. Hearing music, Alexis snuck to the kitchen and started recording him singing to Bad Girl, by Donna Summer while dancing like a hussy. 

"Toot toot, hey, beep beep

Toot toot, hey, beep beep

Hey mister, have you got a dime?

Hey mister, do you want to spend some time, ooh yeah

I got what you want, you got what I need

I’ll be your baby, come and spend it on me…"

He startled when noticing her.  "Girlfrien', you post that on social media, I kill you."

Alexis propped her phone on the counter and joined in wildly shaking her chest. 

Felipe tried the same. "No fair. I need big titties like yours to jiggle. Next time I bring tangerines and a bra."

Loki secretly watched on. 'Fucknuts.'

The three couples soon arrived. One, old neighbors of Alexis, Blake and Deidre, the others, her friends, Sage, Lisa and their newest flames Colby and Grant. She started a tour on the main floor then the upper leaving her bedroom for last. Excited to show it off, she was already opening the door as they shuffled out of the second.

"And this is my creme de la...eep!" She quietly squeaked once inside.

The resident spookster sat perched against her headboard sporting only what the Norn's delivered him to the universe in and winked pouring himself a whiskey. "You did say show myself, yes?"

She hurried out, slammed the door and her friends froze on approach. "Erm..wouldn't ya know I forgot to make my bed. Anyone for a drink?" 

Alexis passed them for the stairs and cringed when Deidre spoke. She was nice enough, but sometimes persistent when it wasn't welcome. "Nonsense, friends don't care. Right everyone?" 

Alexis continued down. "Enter at your risk then." 

Felipe watched her rush by into the pantry, close the door, followed and closed it too. "What you are doing?" 

"I can't go back out there."

"Why?" 

"He's upstairs naked on my bed." She anxiously whispered. 

"Which boyfriend? I take up the wooden spoon."

"No, the fucking ghost!" 

"It's a man? Is he hot and what do I tell your peeps? You afraid to come out of the closet?"

"Felipe!" 

"Sorry, it's the margaritas."

"I thought you the one person who believed my stories."

He eyed her sympathetically. "I do. You want I go bribe him to leave with a mcsqeezy?"

"Will you be serious? Ghosts aren't supposed to be naked. One look at him and everyone will think I invited them for an orgy." 

Blake and Grant came down first catching bits of their conversation and quietly conversed. 

"Can't believe she's still imagining this ghost." Blake wise cracked. "I always told Deidre she had a screw loose."

"Nah." Said Grant. "Lexi's a smart cookie. Sounds more like she needs a man. There's one inside with her. Maybe they'll shag, knock some shit off shelves." 

Felipe stuck his head out the door. "You not so quiet, cumquats. I gay. You want I show you my jolly green giant and shag 'you' inside against the creamed corn?"

Loki rubbed the back of his neck. 'I sacrificed prowling beaches of the French Riviera for this?'

Hearing the ladies coming, Alexis approached Blake and quietly inquired. "Still peeing in your wife's pond at night, murdering her koy? I'd see you through my bedroom blinds. Who's a few cans short of a six pack?" 

"Oooh snap." Said Felipe. 

Grant nudged the arse. "Let's chill in the dining room. There's a makeshift bar and appetizers."

The ladies entered the kitchen. "Who's a nincompoop?" Asked Deidre.

Felipe almost answered but pursed his lips together when Alexis loudly cleared her throat. "You know, just my ex."

"He sure is, honey." 

"Your bed's made, girl." Said Sage. "The room looks great." 

They all agreed passing through while thirty year old Lisa's younger boyfriend lingered. "Pretty awesome digs ya got here."

"Thanks." Replied Alexis.

Colby slid his hands into his pockets. "Soo..Lisa says you think it's haunted."

"Yep."

He spaced out for a second, staring at the floor. "I once thought a bat in our house was my dead uncle Howie haunting my parents for selling his mannequin of Vlad the Impaler. But hey, sometimes weird shit happens when you're stoned right?" Alexis and Felipe were saved when Lisa called him. "She misses me already. Laters." 

"He looks fresh from his madres panocha." Commented Felipe.

"That's the way Lisa likes them. Says the younger they are, the easier it is to train them."

Loki rolled his eyes. 'Age is irrelevant.'

Felipe feigned fright by playfully biting his nails. "She bad. Maybe Colby wear a leash and bark like a good doggy for her?" He goofily imitated one in a deep voice. "Woof, woof..woof. Or maybe he sound like an angry chihuahua?"

Alexis smirked. "I have my own problems. A streaking phantom who now makes unexpected appearances."

Felipe gave her a margarita. "Cheers. These make everything better." 

Alexis gulped down the beverage as he watched with raised brows. "Thanks. Next time that streaker appears, I'll just ignore him."

"Next time I give you smaller glass. Go enjoy you friends, niña"

She gave a thumbs up on her way out. "I got this. Easy peasy right?"

Loki mischievously grinned. 'Darling, I'm just getting started.

[madamsixx]

Beyond The Leather Chapter 78: Who Am I Talking To?

Wednesday, December 20th, 1989 Pittsburgh Civic Arena, Pittsburgh, PA

"Thank you Pittsburgh, we love you!" Vince shouts at the wild crowd chanting Crue.

We run backstage sweating and panting. This was our last show of 89. We are heading home for the holidays.

"Shit I'm so fucking tired." Tommy breathed out while using a cloth to wipe his face.

"Same fuck." Vince huff's as he drops himself on the couch in the change room.

"Here." Mick walks over to us handing each of us a water bottle.

"Hey boys you excited." Doug smiles walking into the room with Fred walking in behind him.

"Excited for what?" Tommy asks.

"For the Christmas break." Fred says with excitment. "I finally get to get away from you fuckers."

"Haha very funny Fred." Vince chuckles sarcastically.

"Man I can't wait to see my family. This tour is exhausting." Doug groans.

"You're exhausted?" I question looking at Doug. "We're the ones playing every night."

"Yeah well still, keeping you guys in check is extremely difficult." Doug says as he walks and sits by Vince. "So what are you guys doing for the holidays?"

"Ugh, I have to spend Christmas with Heather's family." Tommy says dryly.

"Is that a bad thing?" Vince chuckles.

"Well kind of, they can be annoying some times. Especially her mom, her and Heather are always nagging me."

"What about your family?" I ask.

"Her family and my family are coming to our house. Heather wants me to clean up and help her cook. As if I know how to cook." Tommy shrugs.

"I don't know why she would trust you in the kitchen, drummer. I wouldn't eat anything you cooked, I'd rather starve to death." Mick speaks up.

All of us start laughing. Tommy throws his cloth at Mick and he grins and swats it away.

"What about you Vince?" Doug leans back on the couch looking at Vince.

"Me." Vince grunts and leans back on the couch as well. "I'm going to spend Christmas with Sharise's family."

"What about your kids?" Fred asks.

"I'm going to see Neil, but I can't see Beth. Elizabeth won't allow me to see her. She's keeping her away from me. I'm hoping that me and Sharise can have a child togther soon."

Doug patted Vince on the shoulder. I felt bad for Vince. He was always complaining that Beth would on purposely tell Vince to come see Elizabeth on the days that he was out on tour just so he wouldn't be able to see her. She wanted his money but didn't want him around. I hope he gets to have a child with Sharise.

"Well at least Sharise wants kids with you. Heather won't even talk about children with me." Tommy frowns.

"Give her time Tommy she'll come around." Doug says.

"She's had three years now. It's going to be four when we reach May of next year." I point out.

"Exactly." Tommy sighs.

"Well, since we're talking about families. I'm meeting Emi's family for the first time." Mick speaks.

"Good for you Mick." Fred nods. "I'm spending time with Jess's family for the first time."

"Ouuu Fred you and Jess getting serious?" Tommy chuckles.

"He's got googley eyes for her." Vince laughed.

"Yeah, I do." Fred smirks. "It's about time I settle down instead of fucking around like you clowns."

I listened to the guys talk and laugh about spending time with families and loved ones. I felt bad that I didn't have a family to talk about. I was hoping that no one would ask me any questions. It would make me feel worse.

"So what about you Sixx?" Doug looks at me.

"He's obviously going to be with Mani." Vince chuckles.

"Bitch." Tommy sneers under his breath thinking that I didn't hear him.

After he says that, the room goes silent. All the guys look at me with wide eyes and shock.

"Tommy!" Fred growls. "That's not cool."

"Don't speak about her like that." I move from the table and walk towards him. "Seriously Tommy leave it alone."

"What? I'll never forgive or like her for what she did."

"That's fine if you don't wanna forgive her or like her. But fucking respect her Tommy. She's my girl!" I raise my voice.

"Oh I'm sorry Sixx." Tommy touches his heart turning to me. "I didn't mean to disrespect your girl who can't even tell anyone about you guys relationship." He snarled.

"Tommy enough." Mick speaks up.

"Enough of what?" Tommy questions. "We all know that their relationship is in the closet. I feel sorry for you man." Tommy smirked and shook his head. "Can't kiss, hug, or hold hands in public."

"And you can't have children with Heather." I spat. "Cause she probably knows that you're still sticking your dick in different holes."

"Fuck you Nikki!" Tommy yells.

"Alright boys enough!" Fred yelled. "Change and let's get the hell outta here! I'm tired of your shit!"

I back away from Tommy. I walk to the side and grab my bag and walk out the door.

On the jet..

I sat in a seat alone writing in my notebook. I've been writing a lot of poetry and stories since I left rehab. It's been keeping my mind busy, especially from drinking.

"H..hey dude."

I looked up to see Tommy standing by me rubbing his hair. I scoffed and went back to writing completely ignoring him.

"Can I please sit?" He pleads.

I shrug but continue to write, I'm not sure what he wants to talk about. I'm pissed at him after what he said about me and Mani. It's clear that he doesn't support my relationship.

"So uh, what are you writing?" He asks hesitantly.

No response.

"You uh, writing new lyrics." Tommy says nervously as he starts using his fingers to drum on his thigh.

No response.

"Sixx c'mon, please can we talk?" He pleaded.

I sighed and looked up at him then closed my book.

"Talk."

"Ok, well I'm angry at Mani because she shit on something that was special to Heather. And on top of that she nearly killed you Nikki. That was uncalled for."

"Tommy." I leaned forward so I could be face to face with with him. "I am sorry about Heather, ok. I apologized before and I'm still apologizing now. I know Mani feels bad about it too. But you need to let it go."

"It's hard for me to let it go." Tommy huff's leaning back on the couch.

"When you first brought Heather around us. She looked at me like I was shit, and she would always make snide remarks about me and the band. I tolerated it because you loved her."

"Yeah, you did." Tommy frowns.

"Look, I was mad at first when Mani did that to me. But in a way I deserved it. And if I'm being honest, I'm glad it happened. Because it brought us back together and helped us to talk about the things in our past that we never resolved."

He nodded his head and turned away from me.

"Tommy I love her, and I'm trying to stay on this positive path. I'm balancing staying sober, being in a secret relationship with Mani, these new emotions, touring, fighting with Brandi for a divorce, and you."

"Sixx-"

"Listen, if you can't let it go and forgive her than we can't be friends. Because I can't allow you to speak about her like that. She means a lot to me."

"So what are you saying?" Tommy mumbles and looks at me.

"I'm saying...that I'm choosing her."

It went silent for a long time. I could see it in Tommy's eyes that he was a bit upset. I hate to do this to him because we have been best friends since 81 and he is my terror twin. But this relationship with Mani means a lot to me. She trusts me, she loves me, and makes me feel good about myself. I want things to go further with us and I... actually.. we can only do that by keeping the negative people away.

"You really love her huh?" Tommy looks up at me with a sad face.

"I do Tommy, she means the world to me. She forgave me after everything I put her through, so that has to mean something worth fighting for. I don't want to lose any chance of happiness."

Tommy nodded his head slowly and rubbed his neck.

"Sixx, you're going to get mad at me. But I have to tell you something." Tommy says with a nervous look on his face.

"Please don't tell me you did something stupid." I let out and amused groan.

"Well...it could be considered funny." He shrugged chuckling.

"What is it?"

"I uh..I sent Mani a coke bomb on her birthday when she was in paris." He mumbled lowly.

"Tommy." I groan and slide down in my seat.

"Sorry I was still pissed off." He waved his hands. "But I'm not anymore, I see how happy she makes you and I feel bad for saying rude things about her infront of you."

"It's fine." I sigh and sit back up. "Just from now on I need you to be nice to her. Considering how much I hurt her I want her to feel safe and accepted with all of us."

"Yeah I hear you. We good?" Tommy raises his brows.

"Of course T-bone."

He got up to leave but stopped and turned around.

"Also, another thing Sixx." Tommy's face turns serious. "Remember how you said it wasn't Mani that drugged you. What did you mean by that?"

"I meant that it was her manager. She's not a good person. She tells Mani to do fucked up shit and she's always in her ear whispering bad things to her."

"So Mani always does what her manager tells her to do and say?" Tommy asks with concern.

"Did Mani say something to you?" I furrow my brows.

"N..no..I just wanna know." He chuckled nervously.

I sigh and scratch my head ready to tell him.

"Look Tommy, I use to manipulate Mani when she was younger because she couldn't think for herself. I would tell her what she wanted to hear or call her to make her pity me and feel sorry for me so I could get her to come to me. Then, I would make her do things that she wouldn't normally do. Like running away on tour with me. It was so easy because she was young and raised in a strict house hold and very sheltered. She knew nothing about the real world. She grew up never being able to make decisions for herself. Other people always made descions for her, including me. But I realized how dangerous it is to manipulate someone who can't think for themselves. It means that when someone tells Mani something, it's hard for her not to listen. Especially if that person has been in her life for a long time. Like her manager."

"Shit." Tommy mumbled and rubbed his head. He started biting his fingers tips and looked down at the ground.

"Yeah." I breath out. "Now that I'm sober and able to think properly I try my hardest to sit down and talk to her instead of putting thoughts and words in her ear. Mani's a sweet girl. I want her to make her own decisions. I want her to stand up to Tamara rather than say yes to everything Tamara tells her to do."

"Does she know you use to manipulate her?"

"No." I shake my head. "But I am gonna tell her when the time is right. It's something that she needs to know."

"Fuck." Tommy breathed out.

"Tommy." I called to him. "If she said something to you, you know you can tell me. Right?" I ask with seriousness.

"Oh..uh..no she didn't say anything to me." He studdred. "When I see Mani again I'm going to apologize for how I've been treating her. I want you and her to be happy."

"Thanks T-bone."

Los Angeles's

When the jet landed we all got out and gave each other a hug goodbye. We weren't going to see each other until next year. I got into my limo and reached home. I sigh as I looked around the big empty house. I didn't bother to put my stuff away properly. I sat down on the couch wondering what I would be doing for the break. Before Mani left she said she would call me and we can talk often. She's spending time with her family in Canada for the holidays. Every one has someone except for me. My holidays are going to be very lonely. I guess shit just doesn't change for me. I was lonely in the past, I'm lonely in the present, and chances are I'll be lonely in the future.

After taking a quick nap. I've been speaking to Mani a lot on the phone. I had to pretend like I was ok here. I told her that I was going to be hanging around with my friends for the Christmas break. But I have no friends. The ones that I do are still on drugs or drinking. Robbin called me as well but he was so out of it that I had no clue what he was saying. Tom also called and I spoke to some of my aunts and uncles. I wish I could go to Idaho, but there's not enough time. Plus I don't want to go to Idaho by myself. I got up then headed downstairs with my new base that Mani got for me. I sat there and started strumming but nothing was coming to me. I just felt bored and unmotivated.

Ring Ring Ring

I put my base down and walked to the phone.

"Hey."

"Hi babe."

"Hi princess how are you?" I asked as I walked back to the couch and sat down.

"I'm alright, just checking in on you. I hope you're ok?"

"Babe I'm fine, I keep telling you that. What's that noise in the backround?"

"Oh." She laughs. "It's my mom's church music. She plays it every Christmas. I can't believe you can actually hear it. I'm in my sisters room and the music is downstairs."

"Yeah I can hear it." I chuckled. "So is it just you and your family having a Christmas dinner or are other people going to be at your place?"

"Well we're actually going over to my uncle's house. Him and his wife just had a baby. So the whole family is going to spend Christmas there."

"That's...that's great." I mumble.

I stayed silent for a bit. Family. Something that I have never had. Going over to my girlfriend's house for a Christmas dinner to meet her family is something I wish I could experience. People always groan and complain about not wanting to see their in laws. But that's something I would kill to have.

"Nikki are you still there?"

"Oh ..uh sorry I kind of tuned out a bit. What were you saying?"

"I said so what are you doing today?"

I sighed. I wanted to tell her that I have no plans today or any other day but I didn't want her to pity me. I don't want anyone's pity. And I don't want her to travel all the way down here to come and be with me. I want her to be with her family. She deserves to have happiness. She deserves to smile.

"Oh, I'm going to be hanging with friends." I said with fake excitement. "We're going to go out and eat. You know, do guy stuff."

"Guy stuff?" She questions.

"No strip clubs I promise." I chuckled.

"Are they clean?" She asks with concern.

"Yeah babe they're clean." I assure.

"Nikki I can come after Christmas to see you-"

"Mani I'm fine." I assure. "You came out for my birthday so please spend time with your family as long as you need to."

"Ok." She says casually. "I'll call you later."

"Alright babe."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

We both hang up the phone. I think maybe I'll go out shopping for myself. And buy some Christmas presents for people. I probably won't give them the presents till after Christmas cause everyone will be with their families.

I tied my hair back and put on a baseball cap and sunglasses for my disguise. I grabbed my car keys then locked up and got into my car. It was busy out on the roads. People wanted to do some last minute shopping before Christmas.

I stopped and parked my car and got out then headed into the mall. I grabbed a shopping cart then walked around looking for things to buy. I picked up a couple of things that I thought Mani would like, I also got something for Fred, Jess, Tommy, Vince, and Mick. I got something for Tom as well, I'll have to ship it down to Idaho.

"Nikki?"

I tensed up hearing that familiar voice.

"Hi Brie." I smiled nervously.

"Hi." She smiled and gave me a hug. "Nice disguise." She chuckled.

"Well it keeps the fans from recognizing me." I shrug. "Uh..well it's nice to see you I have-"

"Nikki you don't have to keep avoiding me." She frowned. "I know you and Brandi are going through some trouble but it doesn't mean that when you see me you have to run away."

"I know." I rub my hair feeling a bit awkward. "It's just Brandi's your daughter and I don't want trouble."

"I understand." She nods. "But also I feel like you should try and work things out with her. I don't feel like you two really tried. You know she really misses you and wants you two to work things out. And well, so do I." She speaks softly.

And you wonder why I avoid you.

"Brie." I sigh. "I don't know if Brandi told you but I'm in a relationship with someone else."

I saw the hurt on Brie's face. I felt really bad for having to tell her this. Ever since me and Brandi have been having problems I haven't spoken to Brie. Last I saw her was when she came over to get Brandi at our Dr. Feelgood release party. Since then I've been avoiding her like the plague.

"So, you marry my daughter and tell her you want to have a family with her. But the moment you two start arguing you want to call it quits and move onto a different woman right away." She said bitterly.

"Brie it's not that." I groaned.

"So what is it?" She furrows her brows and crosses her arms over her chest.

"Brie I'm sober now." I sigh. "I'm not doing drugs, I'm not drinking, I'm not smoking. I'm clean and Brandi's not. So it's a problem for me."

She nods her and looks passed me like she's thinking. "Well problems have solutions. Why don't you come over on Christmas eve to my place and we can sit down all together and talk about all of this. Brandi will be really happy to see you." She pleads. "And honestly I miss you too. I'm sure you don't want to be alone for Christmas. I know you don't have any family here. And Brandi is still your wife."

"Ok I'll think about it." I nod. "I..uh..I gotta go."

I push my cart passed her and speed walked over to the line. I paid and ran out of the store. I was feeling anxious and overwhelmed for some reason. I threw my stuff in the trunk, climbed into my car, and sat there for a bit. Maybe spending time with Brie and Brandi wouldn't be so bad. They both miss me and I do need company. Plus I'm still married to her so it's normal for married people to spend time with each other.

"Fuck Nikki no, you can't." I grumbled to myself. "Fuck."

I drove out of the shopping mall parking lot and found myself down by the sunset strip. I watched all the teens hanging out by the clubs drinking and smoking. The place has calmed down since the early eighties. I looked down at my leg and realized it was bouncing up and down. Why am I feeling anxious and stressed out? I feel like I need a drink.

"Fuck." I groaned.

My problem is loneliness, it always has been. I turn and drive down to the cathouse. I park my car in the lot and climb out. I pull my hat down just a bit more to cover my face as I head into the cathouse. All these guys that never made it as rockstars are still here drugged out and drinking. This was a bad idea, I need to get out of here before I...

"Hey Sixx!"

I turn to the right to see who's calling me.

"King!"

I ran over to Robbin with open arms. He picked me up and gave me a big bear hug. Wow he looks like complete shit.

"Shit man where have you been?" He slurred.

"I've been on tour bro." I patted his arm. "You uh..you look..good." I lied.

"Thanks dude." He smiled. "Hey come sit." He grabbed my arm and walked me over to the booth he was sitting at.

"Hey Sixx what's up?" Riki walked over to greet me.

"Hey Riki."

He's another one that I tried avoiding. Especially because he introduced me to Brandi.

"I thought you were sober? What brings you here?" Riki asked.

"I was just driving by." I shrug. "It looks like King is doing his afternoon drinking." I point at Robbin.

"He's been here since morning." Riki chuckled.

"Well I have nothing better to do. Steven's pissing me off. He has lead singer syndrome. Thinks he's the shit, he's trying to kick me out of the band."

"He can't do that." I snap.

"Shit that sucks." Riki speaks up. "Hey you and Brandi still together or what?" He looks at me.

"We're married but separated." I say with nervousness.

"She really loves you Sixx, she told me herself."

I breath out and rub my face.

"Hey Riki you're stressing him out. Go get us some whiskey, Sixx needs a drink."

"Alright." Riki walks away.

"Uh no Robbin I can't stay, I'm trying to stay sober." I object.

"Sixx it's one fucking drink, it's not going to kill you like heroin nearly did. Come on bro for old times sake." He laughed and patted my arm.

"Robbin I can't, I promised Mani I would stay sober."

"Mani, Mani, Mani. Come on man, she's not here."

"Robbin-" I groaned.

"Ok, one drink. Just one drink."

"Alright here you go boys." Riki says as he puts the tray of shot glasses down. "I'll do one with you."

I look at the whiskey in the shot glass. My leg starts to shake underneath the table.

Would Iman find out if I had just one drink?

Will I be ok just having one drink?

"Sixx?" Robbin raises a brow.

It's only one drink. It can't lead to anything else.

"Alright, one drink." I smiled.

We pick up our shot glasses and down them. I clear my throat as the delicious taste of alcohol goes down my throat. I've missed this. I miss feeling alive, I miss hanging out with King and being at the cathouse, I miss partying.

"How about another?" Robbin slures.

"Sixx?" Riki looks at me.

"Yeah, I could use one more." I think one more will be fine. It's not like I'm over doing it. I rub my face and breath out.

"Atta boy!" Robbin yells. "Mani's been keeping you on a leash! It's time to free your self! Get the whole bottle Riki!" Robbin cheers.

"Alright, settle down Robbin." Riki chuckles.

Riki came back with two bottles instead of one. We opened them up and finished the whole thing. _____

Thursday, December 21st, 1989

Morning...

"Oh fuck." I grumbled.

I stird and looked around realizing that I wasn't at home. This looks like Kings house.

"King!" I called out.

My head was fucking throbbing. I rolled out of the bed and stumbled a bit using the dresser to steady myself. Something felt like it was coming up my stomatch. I looked around for the bathroom but couldn't find it. So I had to puke on the rug.

"Uh..shit." I groaned as I finished puking. I wiped my mouth and opened the door to leave the room. "Robbin?"

"He's still sleeping Nikki." Theresa said from downstairs. "Come downstairs and have some breakfast."

I walk downstairs and rub my face. I sat at the table feeling like complete shit for what I did last night. I broke my sobriety.

"Did we drive?"

"No, Riki called you guys a taxi and Robbin brought you here. Your car is still at the cathouse."

"Fuck!" I raised my voice. "Fuck!" I yelled slamming my hand down on the table.

"So." Theresa walks over with cornflakes and milk. "How much did you drink?"

She placed them down on the table then turned around to grab me a bowl.

"Two maybe three bottles." I say with disappointment in my tone. "Thanks." I say as I grab the bowl from her.

"And how does Iman feel?"

Ugh Mani will fucking hate me.

"She doesn't know, Theresa." I get frustrated and grab the cereal box pouring it aggressively into the bowl. "I'm not going to drink again."

"I said I was going to stop injecting heroin two years ago. So I went to rehab, but when I got out and came back home to Robbin. He had it all around the house and was doing it infront of me. So I relapsed." She says sadly.

I watch her as she picks up a cigarette and lights it up. Theresa used to be a beauty. Full figure, long black hair, tanned skin, with white teeth. Now she looks like me when I was on heroin. It's scary to see her like this.

"Have you spoken to Mani since Tamara fired you?"

"No I haven't." She shakes her head. "I don't want her to see me like this. I wanna be clean before I talk to her." She says blowing smoke out.

"She cares about you."

She nods her head and sniffles. "I always cared about her..I just..you and Robbin got me into this shit." She grumbles and points at me. "Now I depend on him for everything." She sniffles again. "My family won't even talk to me cause I married him. I have to spend my Christmas here with Robbin doing drugs." She sobbed.

I sigh and put my spoon down. "Theresa I can hook you up with a specialist. He helped me get sober. I can give you his number."

She snickers and shakes her head then puts the cigarette out in the ash tray. "He must be shit." She chuckles.

"Why do you say that?" I furrow my brows taken aback at what she said.

She gets up and leans close to my face placing her hands on the table for balance. "Cause you- are not-sober." She grins smugly and leans back. "Finish your cereal and get fuck out." She sneered and walked away.

I rubbed my face knowing that she got to this point because of me and Robbin. I introduced her to drugs the same why I introduced Mani to my life of decadence. The only difference between Iman and Theresa, is that Iman had her morals and was strong willed to never touch drugs where as Theresa gave in. I'll just finish my cereal and..

"Nikki!" Theresa shouted from upstairs. "You pouta! You puked on my carpet!"

I think I'll just leave now.

Nikki's house..

I picked up my car from the cathouse but before coming home I stopped to buy two bottles of jack. I might need them for later, you never know who's going to come over for a visit. I showered then brushed and laid down in bed. My head was hurting and I still felt like shit. I felt angry at my self for drinking. I swore to Mani that I wouldn't drink, but I did. And I had more than one bottle. The phone started ringing and I didn't feel like talking to anyone, including Mani. I was so angry at myself that I drank. But then again I can't ignore her, I love her too much.

"Hello?"

"Hey baby boy." Mani said in a seductive voice.

"Hey princess." I chuckled. "Better not let your mom hear you talking like that." I joked.

"She's not home, and uh, neither are my sisters."

I sat up on my bed and leaned back on the head board. "Mmm so what does that mean?" I breathed out smiling to myself.

"It means your hand needs to be inside your pants and my finger is going to be underneath my skirt." She chuckled.

I stopped smiling and sighed and stayed quiet.

"Nikki? Nikki, you there?"

"Is it..is it always going to be like this?" I ask sadly.

She sighs. "No it won't, and I'm so sorry for making you feel like this."

"It's ok babe, I put us in this situation. I know if anyone finds out about us it will be a problem for you."

"I'm sorry Nik."

"I just...it's frustrating sometimes when I see couples out walking together hand and hand or kissing and touching. And I can't do that." I say with agitation.

It goes silent on her end. I don't mean to bring up all these things before Christmas because I don't want her feeling bad for leaving. But all these emotions are just coming in and I feel like I'm about to drown in them.

"Do you want me to come back?" She mumbles.

Yes baby I do, I really need you here with me cause I feel lonely. Is what I want to say.

"No babe, I want you with your family." I lie.

"I love you baby boy." She whispers.

Nikki you have to tell her you drank.

"Mani." I said with nervousness.

"Yeah."

"I.."

"Youuuuu..."

"I um.."

"Nik, you sure you're ok?"

I can't do it.

"I love you too princess." I whisper back feeling very guilty.

"Aww baby." She chirped. "So how about that hand?" She asks seductively.

Afternoon..

I woke up after a nap. I really fucking needed it. I huffed when I heard my phone ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey Sixx it's Robbin, what's up dude?"

"Hey King, I'm good." I say

"Hey listen sorry about Theresa this morning. She's been in a bad mood since yesterday. That's why I went out to drink. Had to get away from her." He laughed.

"Nah, it was my fault." I chuckle. "I puked on your carpet."

"So, any plans today?"

"Mm, no not really. I'm going to be here alone." I respond trying not to feel sad.

"Where's Mani? I thought she was with you, that's why I brought you back to my place."

"She's with her family in Canada spending the break with them."

"Wow, so Christmas came early for you huh." He chuckled humorously.

"Yeah...I guess." I frown a bit.

"So, can I come over? We can chill like old times. We haven't really hung out in a while."

A part of me wanted to say no because Robbin is still snorting, drinking, and injecting. And I am trying to stay sober. But a big part of me wants to say yes because I don't have anyone to hang out with. Last night we had a lot of fun hanging out. It was like old times.

"Uh..no I'm waiting on Mani's call and we're going to have phone sex. So I don't want you to hear that." I lie.

"Alright Sixx, well I'll let you go then. Call me if you change your mind."

"Yeah sure no problem."

I hung up the phone and rubbed my face. I got up and walked around my mansion. What's the point of having a big mansion with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, three living rooms, a huge backyard with a pool if I don't have a fucking family. Does that make sense?

I walked outside and walked around my pool. I then came back in and looked in my fridge for something to eat but I didn't feel like eating. I then sat back down on the couch and turned the TV on. I watched MTV but I felt a little bored after watching it for some time.

I went upstairs to my office to see if I could find a book to read or find something to do so I could pass the time, but there was nothing. I walked into my bedroom and looked at the two bottles of Jack Daniels sitting on the drawer. There an was ich that was starting to form in my body. I bit my fingertips and started twitching my toes.

"Fuck Nikki no." I growled turning around and walking out of the room. I stopped infront of the stairs and started pacing. "Fuck." I rubbed my face over and over again.

The feeling wasn't going away. I needed something to do to get the feeling to just leave me. Maybe one drink can help get rid of the loneliness. Yeah one drink will be fine. This time I'm not around Robbin or Riki so I can control how much I drink. Maybe I can call Tommy and see what he's up to. We're both in the same boat staying sober, we can both look out for each other so that we drink only a little. I walked back into my room and dialed Tommy's number. My leg was still bouncing up and down. I hope he answers.

This is a two part chapter. Couldn't fit everything in one.

[annaraebananawriter]

Pan’s Lullaby

Yellow! Here is another oneshot. Now, just so you know, this one is meant to be read as platonic, but it could also be romantic if you want. I, personally, see these two as friends, most of the time, but I do like it when they are lovers too.

Fandom: Undertale, but specifically Dreamtale and Errortale

Characters: Dream (Who belongs to Joku), Error (Who belongs to CQ)

Pairings: None really, but you can read it as such

Warnings: Language, I think that’s it. Let me know.

Word Count: 1613

~oOo~

Error hadn’t met Dream one on one before.

They fought, yes, but this was mostly because of Ink. Dream was a part of Ink's team, The Star Sanses (which was a pretty stupid name, in Error's opinion), so they had naturally been enemies. If it hadn't been for that, the two probably wouldn't have met.

That being said, from what Error had seen Dream was fairly happy and upbeat. He was the Guardian of Positivity, so it was a given he would positive. Sometimes, the happiness that radiated of him would get on Error's nerve and annoy him, but Dream was the most tolerant of the trio, so he ignored it.

Nightmare, however, seemed to hate Dream with a burning passion. From the few conversations Error had with him, he seemed to always see Dream as this thorn in his side, someone who was so perfect, so naive, that he didn't care about anyone in his shadow. Nightmare usually went off on a rant about Dream, with Error only half-listening.

(“Like, honestly, how can someone be so blind?! Am I right, Error?... Error?”

“Hmm.”

“...you're not listening, are you?”

"Nope.")

So, Error decided to just assume that Dream was a happy person who had his life together, with almost no hardships bothering him.

He was so, so wrong.

~oOo~

It was late in the day and Error had just gotten back to his Anti-Void. He immediately flopped on his beanbag and let out a yawn.

It had been a long, but satisfying, day of destroying and avoiding Ink. Though, it was surprisingly easy to avoid the soulless creator, as he hadn’t appeared all day. It made Error paranoid, expecting Ink to jump out and scare him at any moment. But he didn’t.

Error didn’t dwell on it for too long, though. It was good for his work in the long run. Now, there was twenty or so less AUs (Abominations) in the Multiverse.

Error’s eyes opened backup as the voices started, interrupting his potential sleep. He groaned.

“Shut up!” He shouted to the nothing around him, his voice glitching all over the place. The voices didn’t listen; instead, they got louder, urging him to do too many things at once. “God Damnit, just SHUT UP ALREADY!”

Error panted slightly in anger; fists tightly clenched. The voices finally quieted, which made him breathe a quiet sigh of relief. However, he was now wide awake and most likely wouldn’t be sleeping for a while yet.

So, Error got up and made a portal to the only AU he really liked: Outertale.

He had found Outertale by accident a long time ago. Full of anger, rage, hatred, and strangely enough, betrayal, but for the life of him Error can’t remember why. He was ready to destroy whatever world he ended up in.

Then, he looked up and saw the thousands upon thousands of stars decorating the sky.

~oOo~

It was so beautiful. Red, pink, purple, blue: he could see them all and so many more. He was awed. Excited. At peace. He closed his eyes and sat down, breathing deeply, relaxed for the first time since he escaped that wretched white void he calls home.

He didn’t want to go back.

But something was wrong.

It was too pretty. Too distracting, too peaceful. Too much. It burned. It pained him, glitches pouring into his eyes, pieces of his body breaking off before slamming back into place. Hurts, hurts, hurts. Gen—Error screamed—

~oOo~

Error shook his head to clear the memory from his mind. He rocked back on his heels, staring up at the stars above.

He had avoided this place for a while after that, but eventually found himself drawn back. Each time he came, the more he felt like it was a place to relax, not one that meant to cause him harm. His crashes and little attacks he had slowly decreased until they disappeared. Now, he came here whenever he was down, stressed, angry, anything really.

And the stars never stopped shining, never stopped being beautiful.

Error sighed and made his way to his spot. There was a cliff, and if you looked down, you would see just blackness. But if you looked up, you had a clear view of the stars. It was the perfect spot, as no one but Error knew about it.

Except, that apparently wasn’t true.

Error blinked. There was someone in his spot. At first, anger filled him, urging him to go over and demand his spot back. Maybe even kill whatever abomination found it, so that way no one could tell about his spot. Until he heard it.

Humming. And crying.

Whoever found his spot was humming, yet they were stumbling as they kept interrupting themselves with sobs and sniffles. They had a steady voice, anyways.

Error found himself in a sort of trance. The humming was quite…pleasing, if he was honest. He had to get closer, had to see who this person was. So, he walked closer. One, two, three steps and he saw them. They had their back turned to Error, but he didn’t care about that, or the cape around their shoulders, or the crown on their—

Error blinked.

And again.

There was no way. His mind had to be playing tricks on him. Right? Right. There was no way that was—

“Dream?” Error spoke before he could stop himself. He tensed.

The person jumped and gasped, cutting their humming off. They quickly wiped at their tears and turned around.

Error was right. It was Dream. But, how? Why? This conflicted with everything Error had known about him. He was so confused. What if this was a trick? A trap? But if that was the case, he would have been attacked already. And those tears didn’t seem to be fake.

The two held a staring contest for a bit.

Then, Dream wiped the tears away, not that it worked, scrambling onto his feet. “E-Error!” He said, trying to smile through. “I-I’m so so-sorry! I didn’t know this was your place.”

Error was silent, watching Dream.

Dream hiccupped, trying to wipe some more tears away. “I-I’ll, uh…I’ll go. I don’t want to be i-in your way…” He reached out and summoned a portal. He moved to go through but was stopped.

“Stay.”

Dream paused, blinking. Error blinked too. He wasn’t supposed to say anything. He was supposed to just let Dream leave so that he could have his spot back. And yet…at the same time, he didn’t’ want Dream to leave. It was confusing.

Error decided to just roll with it. He walked to the ledge and sat down in the spot Dream was before. He felt the positive being’s eyes on him.

“W-What?” Dream stuttered.

“I said, stay.” Error reaffirmed, a hint of annoyance in his voice. Dream was silent. Error felt a blush grow on his cheeks and he huffed. “Listen, you can stay, just don’t make it weird, okay?!”

Error directed his focus to watching the stars. He didn’t care whether Dream accepted his offer or not. Soon enough, though, he heard the portal close and Dream sit down next to him, a comfortable distance between them.

They watched the stars together for a bit, each lost in their own thoughts. Error heard Dream start crying again.

He sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“H-huh?”

“I can hear you thinking from over here, and you don’t exactly cry silently. So,” He looked over at Dream, locking eyes. “what’s wrong?”

Dream looked away. “I-It’s nothing…”

“Bullshit!” Error hissed, making Dream jump. “I’m trying to be nice here, so just tell me what’s wrong so we can watch the stars in peace and quiet?!” Error was losing his patience.

Dream was silent for a bit. Error huffed and prepared to give up, when the other spoke softly.

“Today is December 21st…mine and Nightmare’s birthday.”

Error blinked. He didn’t expect that. If anything, he was expecting something trivial that dream was just complaining about because he was so perfect, he didn’t have time for it. Apparently, he was wrong.

“And…” Dream continued, staring at his lap. “It’s also been 1,000 years since the Apple Incident. 700 of which I spent in a stone prison, unable to move, see, hear, or speak.”

Error paused at that. He knew that the guardians had been around for a long time, Nightmare had bragged about it constantly, but he didn’t expect it to be that long. It was almost mind-blowing. And to spend 700 years alone with only your thoughts…well, it reminded Error of his time in the Anti-Void.

At this moment, Error felt like he understood Dream more than anyone else. They were both stuck in a place with just their thoughts, and even if Error could’ve still moved and spoken, he had the impression that Dream’s thoughts eventually started to scream back at him too.

“I-I’m sorry,” He heard Dream speak again and looked over. Dream had a sad smile on his face that looked strained. He looked tired. “for putting my problems on you, I—”

“Stop apologizing.” Error commanded, all animosity gone from his voice, replaced with a hint of gentleness.

“Sor—…okay.”

They directed their gaze back to the stars. Something new was between them, a connection of sorts. They knew that the other understood, but they didn’t need to say it out loud. They just…knew.

“That song you were humming before, does it have any words?”

“Ah…I think so, but I’ve long forgotten them.”

“…can you still sing it again?”

“Okay.”

They sat there together, the stars gleaming and a pleasant song filling the air. They both felt warm at having made a new…friend.

[panharmonium]

@merlinobsessionist you understand me on a spiritual level

[putting the rest of this under a cut because it just ended up being me grumping at length about fandom trends - which, yes, i am well-aware is a silly endeavour in all cases, but sometimes you just gotta have your little grump regardless, you know, for health reasons. X)  and in this particular case the grumping is probably relevant/entertaining only to myself, and you, and one or two other people here, so, tucking it away to spare everyone’s dash :) ]

the other day i was exploring the mostly abandoned wasteland that is the merlin fandom on livejournal (since that’s my original fandom home and obviously i missed out on being involved in that particular niche of lj when merlin was active, so i was feeling nostalgic and kinda curious as to it had looked like) - i stumbled over a merlin fic-finders comm and looked up my boy william just for kicks, and surprisingly, a couple of the old requests sounded like maybe i WAS involved in the merlin fandom on livejournal back then and i just don’t remember it

i think i wrote this in a past life

this is an eleven year-old comment in a mostly defunct fandom community but i felt it in my BONES

oh, my dear commenter from 8 years ago, i WISH  XD

it made me laugh, and then it made me grumpy, because obviously there were very few suggestions offered in response to these asks - the fics just don’t exist, not in any numbers.

and like, the thing is, i don’t particularly care about the shipping side of things for the most part; i always lean towards gen and that’s mostly been it, for me; that’s always been my MO in every fandom i’ve ever participated in, but - look.  if i have to witness (*checks ao3*) 23,830 (twenty four thousand. twenty four THOUSAND!!!!) instances of merlin getting together with arthur hecking pendragon, over and over and over again, in every AU configuration under the sun, then you had better believe i am ready and willing to plead the case of the only person in the merlin-verse who did not think arthur pendragon deserved merlin’s entire life.  

and of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with arthur and merlin as an item, obviously (i mean, i can name a few things about it that don’t appeal to me personally, but that is not the same thing as a value judgment) and everybody should have fun with their own ships, always - but for me, personally, there is just...enough of that out there.  i have seen Enough.  it’s hard for me to even determine where the rest of the fandom is, under the ever-present spread of merlin/arthur content; a picture of merlin/arthur should literally be next to the dictionary entry for steamroller.

and of course, i knew it would be like this from the beginning, and i know complaining about the ubiquitousness of a particular ship in fandom is utterly silly, in the end, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with something being ubiquitous - the whole point of fandom is to make what you love, and if that’s what everybody loves, well, hey, that’s just how it is!  that’s what people should be making - the stuff they love!  that’s what fandom is here for!  i only mutter to myself in the bubble of my own blog because the ubiquitousness makes it almost impossible for me to find what *i* love, because i don’t want to read about arthur/merlin in the first place, no matter who else appears in the fic, and also because my fave minor character, while he gets a pretty good amount of fannish screentime for someone who showed up in one episode, also suffers from the curse known as “virtually everything he features in is actually about merlin and arthur getting it on”

like - by the numbers, when you exclude merlin/arthur from will’s character tag, will retains less than 20% of his fics, some of which are already like...you know, he’s dead, or just mentioned, et cetera.  

and his poor ship tag...he and merlin have 136 fics in their tag, and at first you wanna look at that and be like - ‘hey, not bad, pal, that’s p. good for a rarepair!’  but in actuality, less than 20 of those fics are actually about him and merlin.  like...12% of his own ship tag actually belongs to him, and the rest is him being used as a plot device to get arthur and merlin together.

and i am sure that a lot of other side characters probably suffer from this, too, given the general fic distribution in this fandom, though the only person i’ve looked at for comparison purposes is freya, who is a (mostly) one-ep character like will.  she, despite that, doesn’t appear to get hit quite as hard - she seems to keep more of her fic for herself, which is nice (when i exclude merlin/arthur from the freya/merlin search, freya still retains about 65% of her fics, as opposed to will’s sad little 12%).  i’m glad for her, though - she of all people does not need to be losing fic to arthur; she has suffered enough. 

to put things in perspective, though - merlin and uther have more fics in their ship tag that earnestly focus on the tagged....hnhhmgnhn i can’t say it...relationship than merlin and will do - even filtering out every instance of dubcon/noncon.  

(and yes, i did in fact want to die when i had to actually click the merlin/uther tag on ao3 in order to check that factoid, thanks for asking.)

so, that said - i don’t generally read canon-era fic anyway, when i’m actively writing for a fandom, but since the merlin fandom sometimes feels like it consists solely of modern AU’s anyway, all i am trying to say is that it would be nice if i could pick up an AU including a character i enjoy without seeing him constantly reduced to:

merlin’s loser ex

merlin’s abusive ex (w h at)

merlin’s ex who’s kinda sorta tolerable-ish, maybe, if you squint, but just ultimately Not Right for merlin - holding merlin back, or being too overbearing, or too pushy, or Just Not Enough - or being someone who merlin stays with only bc he’s familiar and merlin’s settling for something safe and unrisky and stagnantly unfulfilling

the dude who merlin cheats on to be with arthur

the dude who cheats on merlin, bc the fic needed a reason to break up merlin and will so that white-knight!arthur could swoop in (cue me shouting ‘IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK WILL WOULD EVER - ’)

the dude merlin “makes mistakes with” when things with arthur aren’t going well

the friend-with-benefits who’s apparently chill with a casual arrangement, thus keeping himself conveniently out of the way of the oncoming merlin/arthur train

the friend-with-benefits who’s secretly NOT chill with a casual arrangement and who’s pining for merlin, except we all know that ain’t ever going anywhere because arthur exists, and in the meantime merlin only ever gets together with will to try and forget his problems

the friend-with-no-benefits who’s still pining for merlin (which situation, i might add, would be read completely differently if it were arthur in will’s shoes, because if that were the case then the audience would 100% be rooting for him)

the “best friend” whose only purpose in fic is to provide space for conversations/debriefs about merlin’s relationship/pre-relationship with arthur (like - i’m sorry, but there desperately needs to be some type of bechdel-esque test for will; e.g. do will and merlin have a conversation about something other than arthur pendragon?  if yes, u win, u may pass go, collect 20 dollars, congratulations)

the friend whose dislike of arthur always, ALWAYS ends up being framed as a mistake.  as will’s stubborn unwillingness to give arthur a chance, until at last will sees the light and succumbs to the irresistible beauty of merlin and arthur’s eternal love. -_-  there is vanishingly rare acknowledgement in fic of the fact that in the canon universe, all of the criticisms will makes about merlin and arthur’s relationship are not only accurate, but made in merlin’s best interests (and also, ultimately, proven right, by the end of the show - merlin tanks his whole damn life for a series of empty promises prophesying arthur pendragon’s future potential, and he gets NOTHING for his devotion.  merlin is more alone at the end of the show than he was at the beginning, when his only dream was to be loved and accepted by more than the two people who’d comprised his entire life up until that point.  and he spends at least half a decade in between the show’s hopeful beginning and its miserable end being told that he’s evil by the very person for whom he is expected to sacrifice his future.  

so what, exactly, makes will so wrong to be wary?  who among us wouldn’t be angry if we saw somebody we loved being forced to sacrifice themselves on an unforgiving altar like this?  

i don’t know the answer.  i’m not sure what it is that earns will his spot on the “destined to be shafted for arthur pendragon” list.  i don’t know if it’s an unconscious backlash to will’s refusal to hop on the arthur/merlin train, or if it’s just a superficial understanding/lack of genuine interest in his character, which, in that case, sure, i’ll give people that one, in all fairness; not everyone has spent a year picking his character apart (though i still don’t think it justifies tossing him in there just because the fic needs a random insert who can be positioned as inferior to arthur’s gloriousness).  either way, the end result is that we usually end up seeing a will who has very little in common with his source material, or who needs to ultimately step aside to make way for arthur - arthur, who never displays the same level of care toward merlin in canon that merlin shows toward him, and who actively oppresses merlin’s people for the entire duration of their relationship.  

like...it’s all just fic, obviously, and we can make characters as OOC as we want; have fun; go wild.  but at the same time, it’s impossible for me not to balk at how arthur in some of this fic is just - utterly unrecognizable.  in comparison with fic!will, arthur is the most Solicitous, Gentle, Understanding, Deeply Concerned, Invested-In-Merlin’s-Welfare-and-Inner-Thoughts creature you ever did see, and I’m just over here like - it is not like that!  it is NOT LIKE THAT!  IT HAS LITERALLY NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT.  arthur pendragon in fic sometimes interacts with merlin like - he tilts his head and listens like a therapist and affirms absolutely everything merlin says and tells him ‘gosh, i understand. tell me more. how can i help you’ - he goes about his day thinking about merlin and putting merlin first and i just - i literally have never seen this person before in my life.  who is this man?  who is this unbelievably attentive paragon of caring?  i’ve never met him before.

the entire running problem with merlin and arthur’s friendship in canon is that arthur, while he absolutely does care about merlin, tends to take merlin for granted.  merlin is just another feature of arthur’s landscape, until something dramatic happens and arthur has a little scare and saves merlin’s life, and then things go back to the way they were.  arthur doesn’t See merlin the way he should, not in the ordinary moments.  merlin goes home and spends his evenings thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person and to keep arthur safe and happy, but arthur just goes home and eats supper with his wife.  arthur does not go home and spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he never feels like he’s supposed to be half of some two-sided coin.  i know people like to give arthur this quality in their fic - and that’s totally fine, of course, it’s fic, have as much fun as you want - but in canon, that is just not something arthur pendragon does.  it’s not who he is shown to be.  

and yet almost every time when i go to explore fandom, i find that the person who does put merlin first in canon is perpetually elbowed aside for this extremely generous interpretation of everyone’s favorite prince.  

and i just...i always try to find the good bits in everything, and i am sometimes willing to overlook a ship i don’t personally enjoy if there’s something else about the piece that i think is great, but there’s only so many times i can read the sentence “merlin had never felt like this with anyone, not even will” in fics where merlin and will are supposed to have been dating or even married/engaged, or “will was merlin’s best friend, but he just didn’t understand” (not like arthur, of course, who merlin literally just met a week ago), or “will was great, but there was only so much of him merlin could stand in one sitting/will was great, but he was best enjoyed in small doses.”  there’s only so many times i can read a hundred different variations of that before i start to get real grumpy.  and that’s not even touching the fics where will’s portrayed less favorably than that, even.  

so, you know.  i feel grumbly about it sometimes, how this particular character is trapped in a perpetual net of always being less-than, when one of the nicest parts of fandom for me is that every character/ship can have an infinitude of possibilities, even the ones i personally think are unbelievably bizarre (which category merlin and will do not even fall into, like - it’s not an incredible leap.  merlin/mordred is a leap, okay; mordred is like seventeen years old!  leon/morgana is a leap - how on earth did that become so popular??? - but will and merlin?  that’s not a leap.)

what is it about will that makes him so tempting to trample over?  will’s only sin in canon was to look at arthur pendragon and pronounce himself utterly unimpressed.  his only crime was to tell merlin ‘this dude isn’t good for you,’ about which fact he was CORRECT, by the way - he is the first person who ever chooses to care about merlin, the first person merlin ever chooses to trust, the first friend who loves real!merlin without needing to be coaxed and convinced and taught that it’s okay.  he is the only one who ever tells merlin ‘you deserve better than this mess,’ the only one for whom merlin has always been priority number one and in whose eyes arthur isn’t even on the map.  merlin’s friendship with will (and lancelot, afterwards) is the healthiest one merlin ever gets to experience, and i wish more fannish material acknowledged it as such, as opposed to using will to set up merlin and arthur’s epic romance.  

all of this, i suppose, is just a very long way of saying that now that i am no longer avoiding spoilers and have actually started testing the waters of the wider fandom, i have come to the obstinate, utterly inflexible conclusion that will deserves his own collection of happy endings, and i don’t care if i have to write them myself.  i’ve already got the gen angle covered.  and even though i’ve never written ship!fic in my life, the fact of the matter is that spite can be a hell of a motivator, and i will bite the bullet and learn how to do it if i have to.  if people can really be out here tagging their merlin/uther fics as “schmoop” (YES. REALLY.) then by GOD, i swear, there are no excuses - this fandom can accommodate literally anything; there’s no reason it can’t accommodate stories where will wins.  let this kid have his good ending.  arthur pendragon can fall in love with merlin 23,830 times despite his and merlin’s ship flying in the face of canon, and that means will deserves his own tiny handful of stories to be actually about him, without his and merlin’s relationship being used solely as a stepping stone on the way to merlin and arthur’s 23,831st triumph.

i am just saying - if uther pendragon can fall in love with merlin and have it tagged as ‘fluff,’ then for the love of all that is good, we can give will his moment.  let will enjoy the respect he should have earned from us when he died saving both merlin and arthur’s lives.  let will be a person in his own right, instead of a plot device sacrificed to the (in)glorious altar of merthur.  let will have an inner life of his own.  let will have a best friend who doesn’t treat him like an accessory to The Greatest Love Story Ever Told.  let will himself live out The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, for once.  let will get his guy.  i may tend to focus on friendship in my own work, but there are a lot of universes out there, and when it comes to someone who has always been so alone, and so singularly focused on merlin’s wellbeing, i’m not entirely sure if friendship even feels anything different to “in love” for will at all, in at least some of these places.

let will have his happy tags.  he’s been on his own for so much of his life - let him have his simple ‘friendship’, his ‘platonic love,’ his ‘found family.’  let him have his lovestruck ‘pining,’ ‘friends-to-lovers,’ ‘angst with a happy ending,’ too, and let him keep those tags for himself.  let characters who aren’t arthur pendragon have their love stories.

i may not care much for shipping, and i would rather read gen any day of the week, but let me tell you right now, i would rather write will and merlin settling down in a haze of domestic bliss 23,830 times before i would ever want to watch merlin ditch him yet again for a dude who never matched merlin’s level of caring and investment in the canon ‘verse.

[bleepblopbloop56]

The Murder in the Dressing Room

Chapter 3: 2 buttons

Chapter one, chapter 2, ao3

Warnings: slight suggestive content around the end (not too bad), murder/character death

As always @pathos-logical did an increble amount of work on this and everyone should go give her all the love

-

"Dada!" Logan could hear Patton's protest from the other room, which was quickly followed by the sound of unsteady footsteps that grew louder and louder until his one-year-old had run straight into his legs. He finished buttoning up his shirt before leaning down and lifting the child into his arms. Logan was the last person on earth you'd expect to want a child, and in a way he didn't. Or at least, he hadn't, not at first. About 16 months ago, his best friend had died giving birth to Patton, and all hopes of becoming "Uncle Logan" were thrown out the window and replaced with "dada".

His roommate Virgil walked in the room after the child, a small grin on his face. "The lil rugrat keeps getting away from me!" he laughed, sitting on Logan's bed. "I don't think he wants you to leave." Logan bounced the baby on his hip before handing him down to Virgil, earning a soft "nooo" from the child. 

"Thank you for watching him Virgil, I really can't tell you how much you're helping me." Logan shifted his attention back to Patton and smiled, poking his nose lightly. "Dada's gonna be gone for a while, okay?" The baby shook his head furiously, pouting before stretching out his arms and making grabby hands. Powerless to resist that face, Logan picked him up and began to bounce him again. 

"Pattttonnn," he sing-songed. "I gotta go, baby, or else I'll be late." He smiled at the boy clutching his shirt while trying to discreetly check his watch to see how long he had till he needed to leave. "Go to Uncle Vee now, okay?" Despite having lived with Virgil as long as he had lived with Logan, Patton had never really latched on to him the way he had Logan, deeming "Uncle Vee" as tolerable but not preferred- probably because of Virgil's piercings, tattoos, loud music, and overall gloomy vibe. 

Logan slowly pulled Patton off his shirt and placed him back in the arms of his roommate and friend. 

"Fix your hair before you go out," Virgil commented, standing up with the baby and tossing Logan's hair around with his hand. Logan looked in the mirror to see a "messy on purpose" look much more suited to Remy than him. 

"What was wrong with how I had it before?" he asked, flinching and covering his glasses when Virgil brought the hairspray to his hair.

"Too neat. If you really want this dude to like you, ya gotta loosen up." Virgil winked at him before unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dark navy shirt.

"This isn't a date, Virgil, this is a meeting between two friends to discuss the loss of… an acquaintance," Logan sniffed, but the shirt remained the way it was.

Patton let out a big yawn, arching his body before settling into Virgil's side. He seemed to have resigned himself to his fate and decided now was a perfect time for a nap. Virgil effortlessly adjusted his hold on him before quirking a pierced eyebrow at Logan. "Oh really? Your ex-boyfriend strolls into your life after you lose your mutual best friend, and now you're meeting up for the first time since the breakup." Virgil walked to the corner of Logan's room where Patton's small baby bed was set up, laying him down gently. "I've seen enough telenovelas to know that this will end with a makeout session in the rain." 

Logan rolled his eyes before stuffing his wallet and phone in his back pocket. He leaned down and kissed Patton's head softly, whispering a soft "love you" to the sleeping baby before making his way to the door. 

"Be home by 10!" Virgil called playfully, careful to make sure not to wake up the baby. 

"I am not a child, Virgil, I do not require a curfew," he joked, smiling back at his friend. He walked out the door and softly clicked it closed as he made his way down his apartment's hallway. 

"Is!"

"Isn't!"

"Is!!"

"ISN'T!"

"IS!" Remus shouted over Roman, laughing loudly before kicking his legs out, only to be silenced to a pillow to the face. 

"It. Isn't. A. Date!" Roman punctuated each syllable with another whack of the pillow, earning himself a kick in the gut. Amazing how even after twenty years they acted like they did when they were five. 

Remus kicked Roman again, shoving him into the floor and also probably leaving a considerable bruise. 

"Jesus fuck," Roman groaned, "do you always have to play so rough?" He lifted his shirt to observe the red mark on his stomach, flinching as he prodded at it. 

Roman ignored Remus' whiny "It's not my fault! You were trying to kill me!" and pulled himself up, picking through the mess on the floor to look through Remus' closet for anything he could pass off as acceptable fashion. Unfortunately, his twin's taste in clothing was… very different from his own, to say the least.

It had been three days since he and Logan had agreed to meet up, three days since Thomas has been murdered, three days since he'd last returned to his and Thomas' house. It hurt too much to go back now- he needed time. 

"Why the hell is everything you wear straight out of a clown's formal wear catalog?" Roman sneered, holding up a neon green polka-dotted suit jacket before dropping it in the trash can. Really, it was a wonder anything was hung up at all, considering the state of the house Remus was currently infesting. 

"Shut up and take what you can get!" Remus snapped, coming up and scanning the closet beside his brother. He reached in and yanked out a black pencil skirt before shoving it into Roman's hands. "There, that'll get you some detective D," he leered, wiggling his eyebrows. It took every ounce of self-restraint Roman had to not fucking deck the man in the face.

"I had planned on wearing pants," Roman scowled, thinking of how cold the walk back home could get, but he folded the skirt over his arm nonetheless. After some more bickering and insults, Remus managed to dig up a plain red short-sleeved button-up for him from the bottom of his drawers. 

"Do you have any makeup?" Roman called from the bathroom, frantically smoothing out his shirt from where it was tucked into his skirt, trying to keep it from leaving any weird bumps or wrinkles.

"Why the fuck would I have makeup?!" Remus yelled back. ‘Probably for the best,’ Roman decided. ‘Spending another minute in this bathroom might be hazardous to my health.’ 

"I don't know," Roman complained, stepping out of the bathroom and pulling on a pair of Remus' shoes. "You paint your nails and own a fucking pencil skirt, it doesn't exactly seem like you've fallen victim to toxic masculinity." He very maturely stuck his tongue out at Remus as he took out his phone to check the time. He glanced down, and then again with disbelief. Shit. He'd spent way too much time bickering with his brother, and now he was running late. 

"If I'm not back by midnight, don't come looking for me," Roman winked. It was an old joke- they used to say that to each other every time they snuck out of the house for a date or to hang out with friends. 

"Aha! So you admit it's a date!" Remus cheered, leaning forward for effect. Roman simply slammed the door in his face and began his trek to the restaurant. 

The restaurant was bustling. Friday nights were the busiest for all of the restaurants in the area, especially the nice ones. Roman had picked the place, although the reason he would choose such a nice place for a friendly gathering was beyond Logan.

As per usual, Logan had arrived early and seated himself in a booth near the back of the restaurant. Today, however, he was regretting his punctuality for multiple reasons. First of all, the restaurant's dim lighting, supplied by fake candles and an overly gaudy chandelier, called back to other times he had waited on Roman at some fancy restaurant for date night, and the longer he waited, the harder it was to suppress those memories. Second, the more time passed, the more self-conscious Logan got. After seeing all the men in nice suits and ties pass by, he was starting to regret letting Virgil mess up his hair instead of sticking with the neat slicked-back look he wore on a daily basis. 

And third, Logan had been waiting for so long he was beginning to suspect Roman had backed out on him. Just as he was promising himself he'd leave after another five minutes, he saw a man in a red shirt and tight black skirt squeeze his way through the restaurant. 

"Hi, I'm sorry I'm so late!" Roman rushed out. His expression went from apologetic to annoyed in a second as he said, rolling his eyes: "Problems with my brother, he can be a real bitch sometimes."

The explanation startled a laugh out of Logan. Roman's exasperation looked so genuine that Logan couldn't doubt him, and… it was nice to see that Roman hadn't changed after all this time. He waved off Roman's worry, who smiled with relief before sitting down and picking up a menu. "Wine?" 

Roman giggled as Logan pushed him against his car. Okay, so maybe after a bottle of wine it was… more or less a date.

Logan's hands pulled at Roman's shirt, unbuttoning it and pushing his hands under the fabric. It had been so long since they'd kissed like this- far too long since Logan had kissed anyone, really, and Ethan had never used to kiss Roman like this, like he was the center of his universe. 

Logan ran his hands over Roman's stomach, accidently pressing on the fresh bruise. Roman winced and pulled away, pushing at Logan's hands.

Logan backed away immediately. "What's wrong?" he asked seriously, brown eyes wide and sparkling down at Roman with concern. Roman chuckled and pulled up his shirt, showing off the now red and blue bruise.

"Remus," he sighed wearily. "You know how he is." He leaned back in and connected his lips to Logan's, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and dragging him down in a much less heated kiss.

"Can we go back to yours?" Roman asked quietly. This was really what he needed after things ended badly with Dee. Even if they could just snuggle like they used to, it'd make everything seem okay again. 

Logan shook his head. "I can't," he winced regretfully. "I have a child now, Ro, and Virgil's still there with us…" He trailed off, fiddling with his glasses. Roman smiled softly and nodded- not pushing, not asking for more. They'd just have to wait. 

"I could give you a ride back to Remus' if you'd like," Logan offered instead. "Making you walk home after, ah, that, seems rude." He laughed a little awkwardly, his smile a little strained, but Roman only nodded and pulled open the passenger door he was pushed up against only moments before. 

When Roman returned home just before 1 am, it was to find Remus lying dead on the kitchen floor, a golden mask with a deep frown adorning his face. Just like how he'd found Thomas…

The murder in the dressing room taglist:

@cataclysm-al @theteenagetrickster @intrurality-fusion @katie-the-noble-fangirl @whizzie72 @grayson-22 @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing 'm-d0ing @winterwonderland7669 @missieluvsmurder @sign-from-god-complex @dragonindigo245 @angryfanboyscreaming @ninja-wizard101 @sombraookami @crystalistrappedintheinternet @imtooaromanticforthis @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @dragon-hair @satanblessi @spookilyfingergunsoutofexistence @skruffy901 @selectivereality

[wayward-styxxx]

Autism/ADHD/Anxiety things from my childhood

- I was quite sensory seeking (I loved car rides, rolling down hills, jumping off my dresser onto my bed, spinning in chairs, staring at sparkly things, etc). I was probably more sensory seeking than sensory avoidant.

- I toe walked and never grew out of that.

- I developed trichotillomania and trichophagia in 3rd grade. I went from having eyebrows to not having eyebrows. Kids thought I shaved my eyebrows.

- I had a habit of running away in stressful situations.

- I was pretty decent in school. I got awards for being nice(it’s not hard to be nice) and for excelling in reading. I read at my grade level and beyond(adult books)

- I loved to read and I actually got in trouble often for reading in class instead of listening to the lesson

- I was pretty crap at subjects that were not language arts.

- My mom said that I got along with kids and played with anyone willing to play with me, but I was shy around adults. She thought that was interesting since I was an only child. She said that she couldn’t keep me from playing.

- That’s pretty true. I loved to play especially if I got my way.

- Even though I played with others I had like one actual best friend(I think) that I was always attached to and through her I had other friends. I considered me and this girl best friends even though our friendship pretty much stayed at school(like most of my friendships).

- The thing is that even though I considered this girl my best friend, I’m not so sure she totally considered me her best friend. She had other friends and when she would want to play with them I was basically like “well who do I have then?” I would insert myself into their little friendship even if they kinda wanted their own thing.

- I never actually had any friends over to my place.I only had cousins (1 cousin really) over to my place.

- I don’t have any photos with friends outside of a school setting and the photos that I do have with friends in a school setting are class photos.

- My birthday parties (that my mom planned) only had my cousins and no friends. I don’t think I ever actually invited any of my friends. I do know that I only had cousins and their parents there. I pretty much just liked getting gifts and having my parents wish me happy birthday. That was enough for me.

- I think I was only ever invited to one birthday party in elementary school. No, it was not my best friend’s birthday party lol

- I think in all of my years of elementary school I’ve called like one friend and it wasn’t the girl who was my best friend. I called this girl one time and never again. I never liked talking on the phone.It was like pulling teeth. My parents always had to remind me to call my grandparents or whoever.

- Years later when I would notice friends that I went to elementary school with, I would remember them, but they would either not remember me or they would just keep it to “hey, cool bye”. This even happened with my best friend from elementary school when I saw her outside of my high school. So sometimes I feel like maybe I didn’t actually have friends in elementary school. I was most likely just tolerated because I was nice lol 😂

- In elementary school I was called “mean” by other kids and even my friends before for having an opinion or for saying “no”. I never understood this, but I do know that I was so desperate for folks to like me and be my friend that I just ended up giving in or changing my opinion.

- I was very talkative. The teacher would tell the class to be quiet and I would still be trying to have conversations about my favorite book or something. I would literally be the only one still talking so I got in trouble for that quite often. Even though people were ignoring me because they were supposed to be quiet, I was still talking to them. Literally everyone got the cue except me.

- I talked to myself a lot especially when I was at home. I had whole conversations with myself and my mom would always ask who I was talking to. I would respond with “nobody” to not seem super weird. Sometimes I was honest and would say “myself”.

- I never had imaginary friends though because they just didn’t make sense to me. I always knew I was talking to myself and not a invisible friend.

- In elementary school some of my special interests gave me anxiety. For example, I got into tornadoes and hurricanes so I was constantly on the look out for signs of them. Those tornado watch alerts literally made my heart race. I also had a safety plan for if a tornado were to ever touch down. I read every book in my library on tornadoes and extreme weather.

- I was always sensitive to certain smells and foods and they would make me gag. I remember when I did a children’s summer program the smell of the food made me so sick and light headed that often times I decided to just go hungry. It was like a smell that nobody else could smell.

- I think I can remember everything that I ate as a kid because I pretty much ate the same thing.

- I was also very particular about how my food was prepared and the ratios. I always had to have the correct amount of peanut butter to jelly on my sandwich or the correct amount of skin to chicken with my chicken tenders. My parents don’t know this but if the foods were not the correct ratios or textures or if they made me sick then I would wrap them in toilet paper/paper towel and throw them in the trash can. I got that idea from a tv show.

- As you can see I kept a lot of things from my mom and grandma.

- I also watched the same tv shows/movies over and over again in the same sitting for hours. I remember I couldn’t find my incredibles movie dvd, but I had the behind the scenes dvd, so I spent hours going through every option on that behind the scenes disk. None of my tapes/DVDs play all the way through because I have rewound them so much.

- When blockbuster still existed I rented the same 4 sailor moon tapes and justice league movie every time.

- I learned a lot from tv and took the story lines quite seriously and tried to mesh them with everyday life. That didn’t always work out and sometimes got me in trouble with students/friends.

- I imitated characters. I am most likely an amalgamation of every character I’ve ever watched.

- I have this stim where I smell and rub my face across my arm. I’ve had that one since forever.

-I have a lot of tactile/vestibular/olfactory stims.

- I don’t think I’ve ever had a real sense of danger because my mom has complained that I’ve put myself in dangerous situations and was completely oblivious to them.

- Inappropriate giggling/smiling

- I’ve always had sort of a hard time seeing things from others perspectives.

- I cried a lot especially when I was away from my mom and grandma. I cried when I went to pre-school which is fine because it’s a new environment, but I also cried when I was left with family members as well. I would literally cry until my body just gave out.

- My mom said that I was very observant and at 5 years old I asked her why all of my toys were made in China. I also asked if most things we had were made in China. I examined my toys a lot.

-I loved the way my toys looked and felt

- I didn’t have the best tone control. I was always told to speak up. The funny thing is I could also be extremely loud especially when excited. I would scream if I was excited or even spooked(?) and I was so loud that teachers would literally come to the area and be like “yo who is that screaming ? I can hear this person all the way down the hall”

- I constantly ruined my clothes and things at school( not on purpose) and my mom would be upset but I could never see why she was upset even after she explained to me why she was upset. I also could never remember how my clothes ended up so dirty or how I lost jackets because there was just so much going on and the day moved so fast.

- I constantly misheard things as a child. I could be at a movie or have my tv all the way up and I could hear what people were saying but not comprehend it. It sounded like another language sometimes. I hated when people would whisper from the across the room so I would say “I can’t understand what you’re saying”. I think I was shouting that because I would get weird looks or people would just say “nevermind”.

- My mom brought me expensive gold lockets, but I broke every last one because I couldn’t stop myself from chewing on the chain and the actual locket. I pretty much wanted the locket because tigger had one in the tigger movie lol

- I chewed on my erasers and pen grips.

- I loved collecting things like rocks(geodes) and stationary and so I was kind of a pack rat lol

- My mom was happy to have a girl because that meant we could go shopping. Unfortunately I was not that interested in shopping for clothes when I was younger. When my mom would get excited about shopping for clothes for the both of us I would be like “can I buy books?” The only times I really cared about clothes and purses was if I saw the main character in a movie I was currently cared about clothes and purses. My mom enjoyed dressing me while she could though.

- When I was in elementary school I was going to a wedding and my mom said that I needed to dress up. I wanted to wear my new comfortable tracksuit so that’s what I wore. I was comfortable but extremely underdressed. I had a good time but felt out of place lol

- When I played with dolls I pretty much just set up scenes with very little dialogue. I did play teacher and I used my moms lottery tickets as scantron sheets. Sometimes I played teacher with my dolls, but dolls can’t write so i usually ended up being the teacher and the student.

-I was always hard on myself in elementary school. I started having negative thoughts starting in like 4th or 5th grade.

- I remember in 4th(?) grade being obsessed with ophelias suicide that was in a Shakespeare poem book. I didn’t have the most normal interests. My mom was always confused as to why I was into such dark themed subjects as a kid.

- I hated when my clothes would bunch up under my arms from too many layers and I still can’t stand that.

- my skin also seemed to be super sensitive and it’s almost like I could feel it moving which caused me to itch and I had to scratch myself extremely hard to get the itch to go away. I still have this problem today.

- I was and still am violently ticklish.

- I have never had good handwriting and a lot of my papers had words scribbled out and arrow marks where words should be. My written papers did and still do look horrible. Either you want me to write fast and have my paper be a complete mess or give me enough time to write slow and have a semi-neat paper. Thank god for computers.

- my mom tried her best to get me to learn cursive. I tried at school, my mom got me a cursive book and she tried to practice with me. I never learned proper cursive and I never completed that cursive book which frustrated my mom when I was younger. I would literally just sit there sometimes and stare at the book.

- I hated learning time on a analog clock, that was tough. It really took me a while to totally get it and I’m so glad my grandma always had a digital clock when I was younger. I relied on other kids who got it to help me. Still to this day I have to remind myself which hand is which and I’m 21. At 21 years old I’m still like “okay the small hand is the hour hand and it’s on the 3, the big hand is the minute hand and it’s on the 9”. Lol

- I would daydream and doodle especially in math class and so I got in trouble for not paying attention.

-I am happy that my mom and grandma were very hands on with me because if she wasn’t, I don’t think I would’ve gotten anything done tbh lol

[uta-no-sin-sama]

When You Come Home From a Bad Day at Work/School (HEAVENS)

First scenario! Also, I’m writing this because I’ve been having a terrible week so far (I already had two panic attacks in the span of 3 days and the week is about half-way done :( ). So, yeah. Kinda fluffy, kinda angsty. Aight, let’s do this.

Also, I’ll continue this scenario for the other groups if y’all want me to. I just thought I’d start with HEAVENS because I want to have a balance on who I’m writing for and also these bois need more love tbh.

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Scene: You were never the type to complain too much about going to work/school, we all have to do it anyway, right? Usually, petty little mishaps throughout the day don’t affect the entirety of how your day’s been. Today, however? Let’s just say you’ve hit your limit on what you could tolerate long before lunchtime. From your coworkers/classmates keeping you from getting that coin/education, to your boss/professor/teacher punishing you for something you didn’t even do. Obviously, you’d be fired/expelled if you even tried to release all that anger and stress that’s been brewing inside you all day - so you just held it in, put on the best fake smile you could muster, and went on with your day. You were impressed by how long you managed to keep up your facade, until you returned home. The first thing you did when you got home was rush to your room and slam the door shut.

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(Y/N) = your name

(N/N) = nickname

(F/F) = favorite food

I tried to be gender-neutral with this one. Hope you enjoy!

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Yamato Hyuga - 

You usually come home before your boyfriend did, since he liked to go for an afternoon run whenever he got the chance. Today was no different, though he noticed on his way back to his room that your bedroom door was shut and that he heard a string of obscenities that would make even a sailor blush. Your bedroom door was almost never shut and you were never the type to curse too much, even if you were alone. Yamato knew that something was very wrong, so he knocked on your door, not hesitating to open your door soon after. “(Y/N), I’m coming in,” he said loud enough to get you to stop punching the day-lights out of one of your pillows while muttering a string of curse words. 

“What’d that poor pillow ever do to you?” he asked jokingly, only to earn a scowl from you. He knew he wasn’t going to get very far into cheering you up by messing with you, so he sat down on your bed next to you and gently asked, “But seriously, are you okay?” 

You let out a sigh and explained what happened, somehow managing to not raise your voice too much. “That sucks,” Yamato replied. “Hey, you’re off tomorrow, right? Raging gave me the day off and I heard this new ice cream shop opened up last week. I’ve been wanting to check it out some time, did you want to go with me?” You nodded excitedly before he continued, “We can do whatever else you want to do too. Maybe it’ll take your mind off of the bullshit you went through today.” “Sounds great!” 

Eiji Otori - 

Your man was tending to his flowers when you came home, so he didn’t notice you were upset. His older brother, on the other hand? He noticed right away when you ran past him as he tried to talk to you. After noticing the tears that were forming in your eyes, he knew he had to talk to Eiji and see if he could cheer you up. “Eiji,” Eiichi called as he stuck his head out of the kitchen door leading to the flower garden. “(Y/N)’s home. I don’t think they’ve been having a good day, maybe you should check on them?” “Really?” the younger sibling replied, starting to panic. “What happened? Is (Y/N) crying? What did you do to them?” “Breathe, Eiji,” the older one answered. “I don’t know what’s wrong, all I know is that (Y/N) ran into their room and slammed the door. I think they’re crying, but you know I’d never try to hurt them. They’re dating my favorite little brother, after all.” “Nii-san, I’m you’re only brother,” Eiji said, slightly puzzled. “Just go check on (Y/N), please,” Eiichi sighed in mild frustration. “I’m worried about them.”

Eiji did as his brother asked, and found you nestled in a pile of blankets, sniffling and wiping tears from your eyes. “(Y/N)?” he asked, trying not to make you feeling worse by worrying too much about your current emotional state. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Did anyone hurt you?” You tried to tell him what was wrong, but it became harder for you to talk as you cried harder. “Deep breaths, (Y/N),” he reminded you gently, taking one of your hands into his and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Starting to feel calmer, you took deep breaths like he said. “Iii~” he said, imitating his older brother’s catchphrase to try and make you laugh. It worked, earning a snicker out of you. “Feeling better, (Y/N)?” he asked once you calmed down enough to finish explaining what was wrong. You nodded and thanked him for listening to you vent about your day. “Of course!” he replied. “Anything for you! Oh, I have something for you, by the way.” It was only them you noticed his other arm was behind his back the whole time, since he pulled it from there and gave you a bouquet of your favorite flowers which he picked from his own garden. “I’ll go put these in a vase for you, I’ll be right back,” he said before he left the room and you thanked him once more. 

Shion Amakusa - 

The sound of the door slamming woke up your snoozing boyfriend, mildly annoying him as he thought Van and Yamato were arguing over something stupid for the fourth time that week. After shrugging it off, he checked his phone to see if you’d texted him saying you were home. You did not and it was a half hour after you usually come home. Growing concerned, he sent you a message.

“Hey, (Y/N)-san. Are you almost home yet?”

Shion was nervous for a moment as you didn’t respond right away, but his nerves calmed slightly when you eventually replied.

“I’ve been home for half an hour. Sorry about that, Shion. I needed to cool off for a bit, had a bad day today.” 

As someone who has had problems with anxiety, he understood that you needed some space to calm down. He still wanted to help you through whatever upset you at work/school, so he sent you another message.

“Well, when you’re ready to talk, Amakusa will be in the living room waiting for you.”

About five minutes later, you decided that you were ready to vent to your lover about your day. You knew you could trust him to listen to you while he held you tightly in his arms, so you were able to calmly rant about your work/school. It was one of the things you adored most about Shion, he’s always there to listen or be a shoulder to cry on whenever you needed it. 

Van Kiryuin - 

Little did you know, your boyfriend noticed you as you ran towards your room. He tried to say hi to you, but you ignored him which was totally out of character for you. Confused on whether you were mad at him, he followed you after you slammed your door and knocked on the door. “Go away, I’m not home,” you muttered quietly, though loud enough for him to hear. “Come on, (N/N)-chan,” Van whined slightly. “I know you’re in there, now please let me in.” He heard a shaky sigh in response before you hesitantly opened the door. 

“Oh, good,” he said with a sigh of relief before he noticed your red, tear-stained face. “I thought my angel was mad at me! I guess not since she let me in - oh... (N/N)-chan? Have you been crying?” You looked down in embarrassment and nodded slowly before he took your hand and sat down with you on your bed. “Come here and tell me what’s wrong, my angel,” he said in a quieter voice than normal, in an attempt to try and calm you down. You hesitated for a bit, but eventually told him what happened. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that!” he replied, thinking of a way to cheer you up. “Here, let’s forget about your day at work/school today. It sounds like you need me to squeeze the sadness out of you!” You tried to protest at first, but he bear-hugged you before you could say anything. His hugs were almost tighter than those of that nice glasses-wearing Piyo-chan lover you’ve heard Nagi talk about before. “I’m not letting go until you feel better, (N/N)-chan~” he teased, poking at your side a little. “Alright!” you surrendered, trying not to laugh too hard. “I’m feeling better, Van, just let me go please!” “Alright, alright,” he laughed as he let you go. “As you wish, my angel.”

Eiichi Otori - 

Your poor boyfriend tried to stop you and talk to you when you ran past him. He failed miserably, but knew exactly where you were once he heard your door slam. “Oi, quit fighting with the walls, Yamato!” Nagi shouted in annoyance. “You do realize... that Yamato... isn’t home... right?” Kira asked while Eiichi made his way to your closed and locked bedroom door. He knocked on your door, only for you to not respond. “Angel? It’s me,” he said, concern laced in his voice. “I know you’re in there, (Y/N), my love. Please let me in. I just want to talk to you.” No response. A few moments later, he heard you unlock the door and you quietly mutter, “Come in, it’s open.” 

Eiichi slowly opened the door, only to find you curled up on your bed, hiding your face with your hands and arms. “(Y/N), why did you slam your door?” he asked as he slowly noticed you were crying. “It’s not like you to do that, that’s usually a Yamato thing - my angel! What’s wrong? Who made you cry? It wasn’t anyone else from HEAVENS, was it?” You could tell he was starting to get angry, something he only did whenever you or any of your or his friends were in danger or upset. Knowing that getting angry would only upset you more, Eiichi calmed himself down before you sat up in your bed and he sat next to you. “Tell me what’s wrong, my angel,” he said, gingerly taking your hands into his own and squeezing them for a second. “And no hiding anything from me.” 

You sighed, knowing that the second part stemmed from both him and you being terrible at being honest about your emotions and keeping your true feelings bottled up for too long. You then slowly explained what happened, stopping every so often to keep yourself from breaking down again. “Oh, (Y/N), I’m sorry that happened to you,” he replied, embracing you tightly for a moment. “Why don’t we stay here for a bit, then we can head to the movies tonight? I know you’ve been wanting to see the one with (your favorite actor) in it that came out last weekend. We could go see it if you want.” “Really?” you asked, earning a nod in reply. “Thank you!” He chuckled softly as you wiped away the last of your tears, pulling you in for another hug before messing up your hair and leaving a kiss on your forehead. “Of course,” he replied, smiling as you laughed and fixed you hair. “Anything for my precious angel.”

Nagi Mikado - 

At first, your boyfriend was a little upset that you ignored him when you came home. I mean, who in their right mind could ignore the universally-cute Nagi? “(N/N)-chan!” he pouted as he followed you to your room. “Why are you ignoring me?” “I’m not in the mood right now,” you replied, trying to keep yourself from raising your voice too much or break down crying. You then heard your door open before you saw Nagi enter your room. “Really, (N/N)-chan?” he tsked, not noticing you were upset at first. “You thought you could get away without paying attention to me when you - hey, you don’t look so good. Are you okay?” You sighed before shaking your head and answering, “I had a rough day at work/school.” “Oh, sorry I was being a jerk earlier,” he replied with one of his rare apologies. “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” 

You told him everything about your day, with him nodding as he listened and frowning once you finished your story. “That sucks, (N/N)-chan,” he said, looking at one of your stuffed animals that he gave you, his brain hatching an idea on how to cheer you up. “(N/N)-chan!” he chirped, purposefully making his voice a little higher to pretend to be the stuffed animal he grabbed. “I’m here to get your smile back!” You rolled your eyes, trying not to give in to laughing at your boyfriend’s childish behavior. “How about some kisses from me and your totally adorable boyfriend?” Nagi asked, still pretending to be the stuffed animal, making it ‘kiss’ your face and neck repeatedly. It tickled, so you were in a fit of giggles as you tried to get the stuffed animal away from you. After about thirty more seconds, he stopped and set your stuffed animal back where he found it. “Feeling better, (N/N)-chan?” he asked as you calmed down from laughing so hard. You nodded, thanking him for cheering you up. “Of course,” he beamed. “What else are good boyfriends for?”

Kira Sumeragi - 

He jumped when he heard your door slam shut. Though startled by the loud sound, he continued cooking (F/F) for the two of you. Kira waited until most of the cooking was done before he sent you a text message.

“Everything okay, (Y/N)-san? I heard you slam your door when you came home.”

A few minutes later, you replied.

“I just had a rough day today. Sorry if I scared you. I just needed some time to calm down.”

He felt relieved that none of the other HEAVENS members were making you upset or that he made you angry somehow. Before he replied to your message, he finished cooking and set your plate and his plate on the dining room table.

“Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be in the dining room. I made dinner too, by the way. It’s (F/F).”

Within a few minutes, you came out of your room and joined Kira in the dining room. “Thanks for cooking dinner tonight,” you said before you started eating. “I owe you one.” “No, you don’t...,” he answered as he began to eat as well. Once the two of you finished dinner, you complimented him on his cooking before explaining what happened. “I see,” he said. “Did... the food... help you... feel better?” “Yes, definitely,” you replied, earning a rare smile from him. “I swear, you make (F/F) better than my mom does!” 

[kimjichim]

Expectations | 01

Summary: One night out is all you need to get your heart snatched. You can call him a friend, a fuckbuddy or the guy you’re currently seeing. The label doesn’t matter. That’s what you both agreed on and you’re okay with that; until you realised you weren’t.

Genre: College! AU, fluff???  idk sis but soon to be hella fluff n later angst n meybe smutty idk (just letting yall know)

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Word Count: 1,334 (hella short srry)

Warnings: none atm apart from swearing~~

A/N: hi bitches im back after 3 years mwahahaaaa. honestly, idk if any of yall even remember me but like this time round i actually wanna properly start writing more (esp cos its gonna help with my HSC) and ill have a lot more time from now on cos im graduating hs soon!!!! this story is lowkey based on smth that happened to me a few months ago but obvs with tweaks here n there. my writing is hella rusty so sorry if it’s dry. its not really a full chapter but i really wanted to release it before i throw it away like always yeet. i promise to release the next one soon~~~. if yall got any feedback, it would be much appreciated TTTT would you like a 3-4 chapter piece? or a slow burn series? lemme knowww cos i havent fully thought about what i wanna do with this story yet. hope yall like the intro thoughjgghg <3 <3

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You’re still not used to it. The loud music blasting into your ear from every corner of the street and the hoards of people that walk past. It’s a Friday night and you wanna let loose this holidays, especially since you just recently turned the legal age. You’re just as excited and nervous as the first time you’ve ever walked into a bar. The nagging thought of the bouncers not letting you in persists at the back of your mind. You present your ID and give them a small smile, all the while fidgeting with your fingers behind you. However, your worries are immediately washed away as they smile back and step aside to let you in. 

You walk in with Jinhee, one of your good friends who invited you out tonight to get you into the clubbing scene. Initially, you agreed in excitement and was looking forward to tonight for the whole week. But now that you’re here, you’re not so hyped anymore, especially now that you realise you have to introduce yourself to Jinhee’s friends. Meeting new people? While you’re sober? Nope, no thanks. 

Regardless, you stick closely behind Jinhee as she struts over to the bar and orders a few drinks while you scan the area, appreciating the chill vibe in the bar. People are generally huddled in their groups all erupting in laughter and talks. The girls look stunning in their outfits and the guys look clean and fit.

“Y/N. Here,” You turn your head to Jinhee while she hands you two drinks, “Gin and tonic. That’s your favourite, right?” 

You smirk and nod before you notice another two drinks in her hands. Why do we have so ma- 

“We’re starting off strong tonight, I want to be wasted when we get into the club.” She smirks. 

You scoff in disbelief, “You mean to say that these two will be all you need tonight, right? Lightweight.”

“Oh, shut up.” she retorts, “Come on, my friends are sitting on the other side.”

You follow her without a word and mentally prepare yourself for all the names you’re gonna have to remember for the night. Thankfully, the drinks kicked in faster than it usually did, allowing your social skills to skyrocket. The girls were all so nice and looked amazing in their outfits and the guys were really sweet as well. So many different conversations filled the circle and it was absolutely chaotic, but you didn’t mind it for some reason. 

“Hey guys, we should head to the other bar in the next block for another round. Heard it was really nice there.” One of the guys shouted. Taejun, was it?

“You really want to see those dancers, huh?” one shouted back, throwing his arm over his shoulders, instantly going for the choke-hold, “Taehyung, you horny motherfucker.” Oh fuck, wrong name. I must be drunk.

You pay no mind to it as the need to freshen yourself suddenly overcomes you as you stand from the stool. You decide to sober up a bit before you leave and grab onto Jinhee while everyone starts heading off.

“Jinhee, I’ll be in the bathroom. Wait for me before we leave, okay?” You ask.

She throws the okay sign while stumbling towards the entrance to catch up to everyone else.

“That bitch better not ditch me like last time.” You mumble to yourself, doubtful of Jinhee due to her intolerance to alcohol. 

Well, at least I’m having a good time. I haven’t had this much fun in awhile. You’re glad you came out and met some new people; you could really use some time to lighten yourself up from all that torture in the last semester. 

You step out of the bar, expecting Jinhee to jump out at you, nagging you for being too slow but she’s nowhere to be seen. You sigh in disappointment. Figured. You pull out your phone to call Jinhee but is stopped by a sudden invasion of personal space.

“Y/N, right? Let’s go, Jinhee said that everyone will be waiting at the next place.”

You look up at his face in confusion before you realise that he was one of Jinhee’s friends. 

“Oh shit, uhh, Taehyuk, right?” You ask while stumbling. Jesus, my tolerance must’ve gotten lower too, I can’t think straight.

“Hahaha, close. My name is Taehyung. Good try though.” He snickers.

Motherfu- 

“God dammit, I’m so sorry. I’m really bad with names,” You stammer, “especially when I’m drunk.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he smiles, “We’re all like that when we’re a bit tipsy.”

Wow, cute smile.

“We should probably start heading over to where everyone else is.”

You nod in approval and begin walking through the busy streets. The two of you maintain a good conversation along the way, getting to know each other and finding similar interests. Throughout the ten minute walk. You couldn’t get over how good looking this guy was. His sharp, dark eyes were so mesmerising. There was a cute mole on his tall nose and his lips were of a pretty pink. Not to mention his freaking hair. It looked like black silk shining against the lights. It was luscious and so soft-looking. I would do anything to run my hand through his hair right now. 

Unfortunately, your alone time with Taehyung came to an end as you finally met up with the rest of the group. You see Jinhee with her two bottles of soju, giving you the dirtiest look while being barely able to stand. You immediately walk over to her without much thought or any more exchange with Taehyung, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“This is for me, I assume?” You say with a glare, snatching the bottle out of her hand.

She ignores you and looks over your shoulder at Taehyung, which your eyes naturally follow.

“Already getting a hot one, huh?” She snickers.

“This wouldn’t have happened if you didn’t ditch me in the first place.” You grumble back.

“Your welcome.”

You sigh once again while downing a bit of the soju you stole from Jinhee and occasionally glance over to Taehyung. You two make eye contact from time to time and give a friendly smile but you don’t push for more. That small ten minute conversation was enough for you to constantly sneak glances at him. You’re not complaining though, he is really pleasing to look at. You feel like a child staring at a really expensive toy at the display window.

The night slowly moves on as you meet more and more people, all the while involuntarily having your eyes drawn to Taehyung, wherever he is; as if you have a radar on him this whole time. However, you don’t dwell on him for much longer than two seconds, allowing yourself to fully enjoy your night with your newly found friends.

The night was finally about to get started when Taehyung caught you glancing over at him once again. Reflexively, you smile but he doesn’t return the smile like he usually does. It throws you off guard and you freeze in shock before quickly turning your head back to the current conversation. You can feel your face and ears getting rapidly warmer. Shortly after, you feel a presence behind you and hear a deep voice call out your name.

“Y/N?” It’s Taehyung. You turn around. “We’re heading off to the club now, you wanna join us?”

“Uhh-” You immediately look towards Jinhee to ask if everyone was ready to leave before you get cut off by her loud voice.

“C’mon everyone! It’s time to hit the club, let’s go!!” Jinhee exclains to group while shuffling everyone towards the exit and gives you a small wink. That sly fox. You think in amusement.

“Alright, shall we head?” Taehyung asks while he cocks his head to the side.

You simply nod and follow him. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system but you can’t seem to control your excitement at the possible opportunities that could follow tonight.

[edjectedly]

One Long Semester

So... a day later than I said (We are going to ignore the fact I said there would be a part two a year ago), but I realized this had to be three parts so, here is part two! A sequel to I Just Wanted a Good Grade which was inspired by @tsfanart so thank you again for starting this!! Shout to @fuzzypurplecloud for putting up with my complaining during this process, and @sanders-trash-4ever for editing!

Warnings: Lying, overthinking, minor self blaming

Words: 1291

Parings: Background Royality, Eventual Analogical

Tags: @irrelevantbutfabulous, @chemically-imbalanced-romance, @total-trash-emo, @llamaly, @himrachel, @a-wild-zaneta, @acrobaticcatfeline,  @fuzzypurplecloud @emphoenixcat @tree4life25 @vergeangst @ashrain5 @thisrandomperson102 @callboxkat @princelogical @meginoi @moxiety--sanders101 @poisonedapples  @say-no-to-this-but-its-laurens @kanejandkruge @lizaelsparrow 

Logan could barely wrap his head around the events of tonight. He was hopelessly infatuated with the purple haired, emo, graphic design major that just so happened to be the roommate of his close childhood friend. Said close friend had tried to introduce them several times, but Logan always managed to get out of those encounters and thus would never actually meet the person whom he admired so deeply.

He didn’t understand his feelings, similarly to how he didn’t understand the man who made him feel this way. He also didn’t understand why Roman was so insistent on him dealing with his feelings. Feelings were inherently illogical, but when Roman texted him begging for help, Logan just could not say no. Logan thought that maybe meeting the person of his affections would help him get over it, but no. Watching Virgil grow to understand a subject that had clearly just been explained poorly had only made Logan fall harder. And with Virgil’s newfound understanding should have come the end of their interactions, and Logan thought that would be the end of it. Then he had gotten that one fateful text.

Virgil had needed him again, and who was he to deny someone knowledge? So, he had made the trek across campus to see him, only for the other to start panicking when Roman came in. It had seemed so simple at the time, to just lie and say they were dating, except for the fact that  Logan decidedly didn’t want it to be a lie. He actually wanted to get to know someone that was not being pushed upon him by someone else.

Then everything just fell into place, the double dates with Roman and Patton, the study sessions with just him and Virgil, movie nights where Virgil always managed to fall asleep on him right before the end. Logan even learned how to help him through a panic attack, and though he’d never want Virgil to go through another one ever again, he was glad he was trusted to help. Everything was perfect, but Logan knew that eventually the semester would end and he did not know what to do. He didn’t want anything to change, barring his wishes possibly becoming a reality. Which lead Logan to do something he never thought he’d do. He went to Patton.

Logan hadn’t been sure exactly how to breach the topic to him without exposing their lie, but he was stuck in a loop of not knowing what to do, and so when he finally met with Patton, he had accidentally confessed everything. It had all just poured out in a way extremely uncharacteristic of Logan, which he would never admit to.

At first Patton seemed a little bit upset about the lying, but ultimately he understood why they did it, and he was willing to help Logan figure somethings out.

“So, you like Virgil, why not tell him?” Patton asked, as they sat in his dorm.

The question itself was simple enough, but Logan didn’t have any idea how to respond.

Logan sighed, running his hand through his hair, “I don’t want to mess up what we already have.”

“Logan, what you have right now is nice, but wouldn’t it be even better if it was real?”

“You’re correct, but I do not wish to stress him out before his final. That seems counterproductive to all the work he has put in over the semester and I won’t let my… infatuation with him cost him the good grade he’s worked so hard to get.”

There was a brief pause, enough for Logan to look up at Patton and for Patton to offer him a knowing smile, “Yah know he may be just as worried about this as you are? I haven’t known Virge that long, but he is my anxious child, and as such, I have a pretty good grasp on how he thinks and what he worries about. Just think about it for a bit and tell me this. Doesn’t it stand to reason that he’s worried about where you two stand as well?”

Logan shifted uncomfortably, not liking where this was going, “Are you suggesting he would be more successful if we were to ‘update our relationship status’, metaphorically speaking?”

“That’s for you two to decide Lo, I don’t want either of you feeling… low!”

It took all of Logan’s willpower not to let out a sigh at the pun, instead shifting his eyes toward the ground, focused more on making a plan than anything else. He knew Virgil, and he knew that Virgil’s final was coming up in two weeks. Between him and Patton they could keep him distracted, and knowing Roman, he’d contribute without meaning to. That way, he couldn’t stress about potential feelings, and Logan would have more time to make a decision on how to deal with them.

“Patton, do you think you could help me minimize Virgil’s stress this week and next, so I have more time to properly assess the situation? That way I cause him no further emotional distress, and he can focus on his grades, which are more important.”

Patton pressed his lips into a tight line, his usually ever-present smile disappearing, “You know, feelings are just as important as grades right? I’m all for helpin’ you both calm down kiddo, but your feelings are important too.”

“If you didn’t understand earlier when I explained the situation, this is my fault, and therefore it is my job to resolve this mess in a way that will cause everyone the least amount of turmoil.”

“From what you told me,” corrected Patton, “All you did was give him a way out of a sticky situation where he just wasn’t ready to talk about whatever was going on. Sure there were other options, but you both thought that was best in the moment. It wouldn’t be smart to blame yourself for this.”

Logically, Logan knew Patton was correct, but for some reason he still felt distressed in regards to the whole situation. He didn’t feel right keeping his secret hidden from Virgil, but he knew he couldn't come clean to him today. He was too afraid, despite knowing that his fears were irrational.

Upon sensing the other’s growing distress, Patton quickly spoke up, “I’ll help you Lo, don’t worry. But, you have to promise me you’ll talk to Virgil before we go home for Christmas break. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes, of course,” Logan exclaimed, standing up, “Thank you so much Patton. I am certain that I can handle this situation, I just need some time.

“I’m sure you can,” Patton shrugged, smile returning to his face, “Just remember you aren’t alone anymore, and Virgil is your friend. He won’t just turn his back on you.”

“You are quite right, sometimes my emotions simply override my intelligence,” Logan paused for a moment before blurting out, “I’m sorry I have never come to you before for advice on matters such as this. You’re a lot wiser than I gave you credit for.”

“I know I met you because of Roman, but don’t forget I’m your friend too. I’m always here to help!”

With that, Patton opened his arms, and despite the fact that Logan normally did not participate in such displays, he felt himself subconsciously leaning in to embrace his bubbly friend. When he pulled away, Logan could not help but notice how much higher his tolerance for affection was now, as compared to the time before he had actually met Virgil.

A lot of changes had occurred when he grew closer to the purple haired emo, and hopefully they would continue to change for the better. Now all he had to do was wait.

[heyyyharry]

Idol

(from the Flatmate!Harry Series)

...in which everyone’s obsessed with the new star on campus, and Y/N is no exception.

Warning: mention of sex, jealous Harry, and a bit fluff as usual.

Harry's not foreign to seeing people walking around campus with their face glued to their phones. It’s 2018 now and obviously everyone prefers social media than real life interactions, that’s fine by him. However, today as he’s walking to his favorite food court on campus to meet his friends for lunch, Harry finds it unusual as almost everyone he passes by are watching the same video on their devices. In fact, now he has the audio stuck inside his head and he hasn’t even watched that viral clip yet. 

Is this the part where everyone turns into zombies and he has to save the world on his own?

“What’s up with everybody today?” Harry asks the girl friend next to him while scanning his eyes around the room.

“Oh, some guy posted a clip of himself playing instruments and now the whole school is obsessed,” she replies, making him furrow his eyebrows in confusion. 

“What’s so special with that?”

“The fact that he plays 90 instruments and can sing very well,” the girl says then shows Harry the clip on her phone.

It’s a three minute cover of the song God Is A Woman by Ariana Grande, played by 90 instruments, and it was creatively arranged. Harry’s got to admit this guy is talented.

“But I still don’t understand all the hype for him, sure he’s good but...” 

“Okay, honey, Lemme educate you real quick!” The girl snaps her fingers as she clears her throat and sits up straight. “This man is anything but ordinary, he recently moved here from France, he was very popular there because he won a national talent show, got here on a prestige scholarship, blessed with a look of a Greek God but like...French, and he plays all kinds of instruments you can think of, and has a voice of an angel, most importantly, he’s an Aquarius, which is perfect for me!”

Harry widens his eyes whilst his mouth falls open, unable to believe she just said all that in only one breath.

“I don’t understand how you don’t get it, he has zero, ZERO flaw!”

“Who has zero flaw?” Niall returns with his tray of food and joins his two friends at their table.

“Layla’s telling me about this new French guy everyone’s obsessed about,” Harry answers, holding the straw between his teeth, smirking like what he just said was most ridiculous thing ever.

“Oh, so you’ve seen the clip then?” Niall sits down in front of them and nods his head knowingly. “Eliot Thériault, we had a class together this morning, cool dude, he’s hilarious.”

Layla rests her chin on her knuckles and her elbows on the table. Her eyes twinkle with excitement. “What class? I’m gonna take it, gonna be his new ‘study buddy’, if you know what I mean.”

“Jesus, calm down woman,” Niall chuckles before turning to Harry, who’s cringing at Layla so hard. “By the way, Y/N was in the same class with us, I think you should hold on to your girl, she’s one of the victims, like Layla here.”

“Oh please, Y/N’s not like that.” Harry snorts, but right after finishing that sentence, he hears his name being called from a few tables away. His girlfriend’s walking fast towards them with that familiar big smile on her face, which alarms him that she’s here with some news, it’s either really great or just severely terrible.

“I just met a Greek God, but he’s French!” Y/N announces once she stops at the table.

That is, apparently, all Layla has been waiting for just so she can shout out, “see??? That’s what I fuckin’ said!”

Harry facepalms himself, while Niall bursts into laughter, and Y/N finds it amusing though it’s not the first time she’s seen these reactions from the two of them simultaneously.

She takes a seat next to Niall and reaches forward to pat her boyfriend gently on the cheek as a loving gesture.

“C'mon, H, I had to fangirl a little bit,” she reasons. “It’s not every day that I’ve got to sit in class next to a viral star!”

“I second that!” Layla cuts in. “But please stick to Harry so I have a shot with a hot guy.”

“Wow, Layla!” Y/N chuckles at the girl’s statement. Most of Harry’s friends are not very supportive of his relationship with Y/N since the two of them are poles apart, so to hear his friend say something like that is a whole new experience to Y/N.

“That doesn’t make me your new best friend, princess.”

“How unfortunate.” Y/N rolls her eyes in a sarcastic way, which makes Harry snigger. He likes how sassy she is sometimes, as a matter of fact, her eye-rolling never fails to turn him on.

“Niall, have you told Harry?” she suddenly asks. No matter what that news is, she sure looks very eager for her boyfriend to know.

“Oh, right, Eliot has a live show tonight at a restaurant downtown, Y/N and I are invited but we’re allowed to bring some friends.”

“I’m gonna cancel my family dinner!” Layla immediately unlocks her phone and stands up right away which surprises the other three at the table, “mum, yeah, I cannot come tonight-”

“I think she hasn’t had sex in a while,” Niall admits once his female friend is gone, then he asks Harry if he wants to come as well.

“No, I’m good, I don’t even know the guy so,” Harry replies with a shrug, promptly given the look of doubt from his best friend and girlfriend.

“You sure, mate? Because I think he’s quite fond of Y/N.”

Niall’s assertion causes Harry to nearly choke on his water.

“I’m going,” he declares in less than no time. “I’m definitely going.”

...

Eliot is...nice. Harry was hoping he would be an asshole instead, but he looks exactly like the perfect human being his friends described, which makes him a lot more intimidating, because he could be faking his down-to-earth personality and nobody would know for how well he does it. 

“That was great, mate!” Niall compliments Eliot who just leaves the stage to another performer of the night.

“Merci! I’m glad you guys enjoyed it!” says Eliot in a thick French accent, and whilst Layla obviously swoons, Harry has to take a glance at Y/N to see her reaction. She has her usual smiley face on, but who knows what on earth she’s actually thinking about.

“And don’t worry about dinner. My uncle’s the owner of this restaurant. You don’t have to pay.”

“Looks like I’ve found my Christian Grey.”

“Damn it, Layla!” Niall cries out as he throws his head back and everybody else laughs, except for Layla, who rolls her eyes in a sassy way and tells Niall to fuck off.

“So Y/N...” Both Y/N and Harry flinch when her name is called. “Did you like my performance?”

“Yeah, I love it, I think it’s great, you’re so talented.” She sighs, holding both of her hands together. 

Layla slightly nudges Harry, then leans over to whisper to him, “if you’re secretly plotting his death, you gotta be more discreet than that murderous look on your face.”

“Shut up,” Harry says, though he cannot deny he’s been giving Eliot the death stare ever since their first met, just to clarify that his Y/N is untouchable. 

He has no idea whether it’s just his imagination playing tricks on him or he just thinks that way about every guy around Y/N, but Eliot’s been extra nice to her compared to how he treats others. This guy would always make eye-contact with only her when he speaks, only ask if she’d like some more water (as if nobody else drank water besides Y/N)! Then he would find some lame excuse to touch her in some ways, either it’s a supposedly ‘friendly’ hug or him brushing his fingers against her arm during a conversation. Harry’s not usually short-temper, but tonight he has to tolerate a lot!

He’s told her about it, but she shrugged it off as always, telling him that he worries too much. How can she blame him? He has a solid reason to worry. He knows what Eliot wants by the look on his face because, before Y/N, Harry himself used to look at the other pretty girls just like that. His instinct is never wrong.

As the group walk back to their cars parked a few blocks away, Harry has his arms secured around his girl’s shoulders and doesn’t let go for even one second. It’s apparent enough for everyone else, but he just doesn’t see why Eliot cannot stop coming for Y/N. Maybe the guy is not perfect, after all.

“I just can’t follow Dr. Friedrich’s lectures! Those concepts are so hard to grasp,” Eliot complains while looking at Y/N, who’s just awfully sweet as always (sometimes Harry hates how nice she is, ironically that what made him fall in love with her in the first place).

“If you don’t understand anything Niall and I can help.”

“Oh, leave Nialler out of this please. All I did was sleep in that class,” Niall’s response makes Layla snort.

“Then I think you’re my only hope now, Y/N.”

“It’s an easy course,” Harry speaks up all of a sudden, watching in amusement as Eliot’s expression hardens. “I mean, I don’t even need to attend those classes to understand what’s in the text-book.”

“I find it more challenging to learn something entirely in English.”

“Really? Did you get your scholarship by doing an entrance exam in French?”

Niall hurriedly steps in between the guys, holding up his hands in the air as he tells them both to chill. “Are you guys seriously gonna fight over a university course?!”

"They’re fighting for Y/N, actually,” Layla corrects and all eyes are on her. Y/N looks utterly confused and surprised, but ironically now neither of those two guys pays attention to her.

“I was speaking to Y/N, do you know how rude it is to interrupt people, Harold?” Eliot asks with a smirk, clearly starting a war for saying so, and Harry’s just so fed up right now.

“Do you know how rude it is to flirt with someone’s girlfriend right in front of them?”

“Not when your girl is thirsty for a bit of my attention.”

Just as Eliot finishes that sentence, Harry’s fist knocks him onto the ground! Y/N and Niall have to hold Harry back from causing more damage to the other guy’s face, and if it’s not for them, Eliot would probably end up in the hospital for what he said.

“Harry, leave him!” Y/N tugs on her boyfriend’s arm and looks worriedly at Eliot sitting on the ground, painfully cupping his bruised eye. She’s not worried for him, she’s worried for Harry, if his fans know Harry did that to him, she’s afraid something bad would happen. But Harry doesn’t seem to give a damn, he turns to Y/N, asks if she’s alright then tells her he’ll take her home.

“Are you fucking filming this?” Eliot asks as he sees Layla pointing her phone at him. 

She gives him a smirk. “The new viral star getting punched in the face for being an asshole, that, I would pay to watch.”

“What the-”

“Sorry, handsome. If I had to pick between you and Harry, you wouldn’t stand a chance.” Layla puts her phone away and walks off, leaving Harry and Y/N shocked as hell. Niall, on the other hand, looks particularly impressed as he hurries up to catch up with Layla.

...

“Are you mad at me?” Harry finally dares to question when he follows Y/N into their shared flat. She throws her bag onto the couch as well as herself before turning her head to him.

“Not at you, at myself!” she answers.

Harry takes a seat next to his girlfriend then asks her why she said that when she didn’t even do anything wrong, it was him who punched someone in the face.

“I’m so easy to be taken advantage of! It seems like everyone’s an asshole to me and I just let them!”

“That’s not true, he kind of had Layla and Niall fooled too.”

“Not just him. Everyone! And every time you warned me about it, I just completely ignored, now I’ve got you in trouble! How can you walk around campus tomorrow if Eliot tells his fans you hurt him?”

Harry chuckles at her facial expression. “Baby, I don’t even show up at school to begin with.”

“Are you seriously making a joke right now?”

Harry laughs as he apologizes and lies down on the sofa with his head on her lap like a little boy. Sometimes it’s still overwhelming for Y/N that Harry can just go from the guy who’s willing to punch anyone he dislikes, to the guy who lets her paint his nail and cries while watching rom-com, and it makes her feels like the luckiest for she’s the only person who gets to see the soft side of him.

“Thank you for looking out for me,” she breaks the silence between the two of them after a while, fingers gently running through his dark locks. “You’ve been doing that ever since we met, I know you don’t have to, but you do it all the time.”

“What do you mean I don’t have to? You’re a baby.”

“Said the one lying on my lap so I can stroke his hair.”

“Alright, I’m gonna let you win this time, only because I’m enjoying this.” Harry closes his eyes and chuckles when Y/N leans down to kiss him on the cheek. 

“But you’ve got to learn not to trust everyone you meet, for when I’m not around.”

“Then I have to make sure you’ll always be around,” she tells him, her eyes flicker with joy, but Harry doesn’t say anything back.

He just hopes she doesn’t notice how his smile slowly fades away.

...

Y/N wakes up way too early the next morning because of Harry’s alarm. Somehow he never wakes up before 9 o’clock but always has his alarm set at 6 AM. 

Harry’s still deep in his sleep to be bothered by that annoying sound. He has one arm locked around her waist, both of them naked, tangled up under the wrinkled sheet as a result of their crazy night. 

Careful not to wake Harry, Y/N reaches over him to grab his phone on the bedside table on his side. She turns the alarm off, then it hits her like a train when she sees multiple notifications on his locked screen, all tagging and mentioning him in an Instagram post. Quickly, she grabs her own phone to check if she’s received any notification as well; and she has. 

Apparently, Layla wasn’t kidding when she said she would post that video.

“Harry, wake up!”

“What?” Harry groans and buries his face into his pillow, but Y/N shakes his shoulders even harder.

“Wake up! Harry, you’re famous!”

“Nice try.”

“No, I’m serious, Layla posted the video!”

Harry immediately sits up straight and his eyes bug out when he looks at the screen of his phone. Holy fuck, Layla!

“Ugh look at these angry people. Eliot’s so canceled.” Y/N cringes when she scrolls down the comment section on the clip.

“No, look at all these girls calling me hot, I guess I don’t mind being famous.” Harry gives Y/N a toothy grin only to have his girlfriend skew up her face at him.

“Not funny!” She curls her lips. “Well, but at least they’re in love with you not hating on you so I think that’s good.”

“Aww, look at you being supportive.” 

Harry laughs and goes ahead to check the rest of the notifications. That’s when he realizes how lucky he is that Y/N hasn’t seen all of them, because there’s a new message from Niall earlier this morning, which would get him in so much trouble if she was to find out.

Congrats on that internship! But how are u gonna tell Y/N that you‘ve got to be in Japan for 6 months?

[elvendara]

Hi! Thank you so much for your wonderful writing! Can you write something with RFA reactions to Jumin getting badly injured in Jaehee's route during the accident? It really bothered me how lightly everybody took Jumin's attempt of suicide (fandom included), even V! maybe he got into coma? But please nothing permanent. Thanks again!!

Thank you for this ask anon! Not sure this is what you had in mind, but, here you go. I love Jumin, and I really enjoyed exploring this side of him.

“I know you cando this. All I need is for you to try.” The nurse stood over him, holding outhis hands, his brown eyes willing a positive outcome.

Jumin simplyturned away without a word.

“Mr. Han,please. Your success starts with you.”

Jumin’s greyeyes flashed at the man. “Get out!” he hissed.

“Mr. Han…”

“Now! And don’tcome back!” he spat at the man.

The nurse shookhis head and grabbed his things, heading out the door, it would take something,or someone, more to get through to this patient.

V stepped intothe apartment minutes later, Jumin was still in the same spot, staring out the Frenchdoors of his balcony. Those eyes, always so full of confidence and strength,were now dead.

“Jumin, youneed to listen to your physical therapist, or you will spend the rest of yourlife in that chair.” He stated, pulling a chair next to him.

Jumin’s jaw clenchedbut made no other indication that he had heard. V sighed. They’d triedeverything, but the man was being too damned stubborn.

He had refusedto see anyone while he was in the hospital, and he barely tolerated V in hishome now. Jaehee had been swamped with taking over his duties. Yoosung had volunteeredto help as her assistant, but the boy was being run ragged as well, V wasafraid he would collapse and be sent to the hospital himself. But he had notonce complained, always asking if Jumin was doing better, and what else hecould possibly do to help. V was proud of him, he always knew the boy had aheart that would drive him to accomplish more than he ever thought he was capableof. MC had become the foundation that they needed. Taking care of them all,making sure they didn’t burn out completely. It was she they went to to talkand vent when the frustration grew too large to bare.

Seven had gonefrom being angry that Jumin had stolen one of his babies to feeling guilty,wondering if he had anything to do with the accident. V had assured him it wasa ridiculous notion. They were all aware of what a terrible driver Jumin was,including Jumin. Which made V fear that the man had intended to harm himself.If that was the case, then the guilt and responsibility would fall squarely onhis own shoulders. V pushed that thought away. He could not handle the factthat he might have been responsible for his best friends attempt to harmhimself. All he could do was move forward and try to mend things before theygot worse.

“Jumin, I’msorry. I’m sorry if…” he couldn’t finish. He wiped the tears filling his eyesunder his glasses.

“I know whatyou’re thinking.” Jumin whispered with a croak. “What happened wasn’t yourfault, but mine. You can stop feeling guilty. Stop thinking you have to fix me,fix this.” He motioned to his lifeless legs. There had been damage to hisspine, however, the doctor had assured them all that Jumin’s inability to walkwas psychosomatic. The physical injury had healed and the only thing keeping theman from walking, was himself.

“I’m worriedabout you. This surrender isn’t like you my friend.”

“Has it not occurredto you that I am tired? Tired of being that person? Perhaps this is for thebest. I can stay hidden away, far from public eyes, and just disappear.” He statedwistfully.

“And that isexactly why I am worried about you. Why we are all worried about you.”

“Tell them notto be. I am fine.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,you are not fine! Even Zen is concerned and scared.”

Jumin scoffedand turned away.

“Don’t do that!Don’t minimize our feelings that way.”

“Your feelingsare of no concern to me!” Jumin spat and tried to roll away, but V grabbed thehandles on the wheelchair and held him there. “Let go!” he huffed.

“You want toleave, get up and walk!” V hissed through his teeth. He’d tried being nice, he’dtried being understanding. It wasn’t working.

Jumin becameextremely agitated, trying to wheel away, but he wasn’t strong enough. V waspulling the chair backwards as Jumin was trying to go forwards. Finally, with afrustrated grunt, V let go and Jumin shot forward, ramming into a chair andtumbling out of the wheelchair.

“Jumin!”

“Don’t touchme!” Jumin shouted, holding his hand up, pushing off the floor on his otherelbow, his legs useless behind him. His dark hair fell in his eyes, tousled andmessy. This was not the Jumin V knew. The Jumin he knew, was a fighter. Tellhim he can’t do something, he will move heaven and earth to prove he can. Theman’s will power was something to be admired. But this, this broke his heart andthere didn’t seem to be anything he could do to help him.

“Mr. Han!”Jaehee ran in, having been let through by the security at the door, who now tookorders from her rather than their boss. They looked into the apartment withworried eyes. Yoosung, Seven, MC, and Zen filed in behind the formidable woman,each expressing their own fears.

Jumin droppedto the floor, his forehead against the cold tile. Tears sprang into his eyes.This was wrong. This was all wrong. He clenched his hands into fists and bangedon the floor, screaming out his frustration.

Hands were onhim in an instant. He tried to fend them off, but he was too weak. Weak! Thathad never been a word that anyone could associate with him. Why wouldn’t theylet him disappear? Why wouldn’t they let him go?

There were arms around him, soft murmurs against hishair. The tangled mess finally touched something inside of him. He realized hedidn’t need to be strong. He could be weak and let them be strong for him. Hecould surrender to that. Surrender to them and hopefully move forward. Hereached for whoever was in front of him, of course it was Zen…but it didn’tmatter. He took what strength he could from the man and wept against hisshoulder. He had no illusions that the coming months, perhaps years, would beeasy, they might be the most difficult of his life, but, he didn’t have to face it alone. And some day, he would walk again.