#and then my left pointer finger fucking H U R T S

[bear-cubs-art-things]

Life is kicking my ass rn and. I'm very tired and very busy ahehwhqjehdhf

Have a husk while I figure out my mess :')

#bear cub art things #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk #ugh I'm so tired. #It's like I never get enough sleep these days (I do but I dont) #also I'm in pain 👍🏻 #my knees and lower back hurt whenever I do something strenuous #and then my left pointer finger fucking H U R T S #I SMASHED IT AGAINST MY DRUM LAST NIGHT WAAAHHH #ITS BRUISING UNDER THE NAIL 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 #I'll be okay. But like I said. Life's kicking ass

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

dings a rinky triangle right next to your head Hi guys, it's fic time! I actually put this up last night but I'm telling you right now. It's had a few hours to cool, like a pie out of the oven, but made of words. This chapter will actually contain mentions of ssssself harm, so viewer beware, i guess.

His world stays dark, even though he knows he’s opened his eyes. He tries to understand that, brain feeling foggy. He must be somewhere dark. He’s laying on his back. He can hear muffled voices, maybe, over him? He’s under something. He lays there, listening, but he’s too tired to even try to understand, and the voices are too muffled to be anything recognizable. Maybe, if he really strains, he can hear a familiar voice, or someone who sounds like his baby sister, but the only word he manages to understand is “invisible.”

He falls back into a restless sleep.

The next time he’s able to shake exhaustion from his mind, he tries to sit up. It’s easier than he thought it might be. This time, more aware of himself, his body feeling less destroyed, he actually tries to understand where he is. It feels like he’s laying in dirt, or under dirt, in a mountain of it, the usual soft scent of freshly turned earth overpowering. It still hurts to move, but he forces himself to, clawing upwards, through the dirt, until he reaches a wooden plank, which he goes through, like he’s not even there.

It’s a box, containing something foul smelling. A coffin… he’s inside a coffin. Juno buried him below a pine box, in someone else’s grave. The inside of it stinks, like decay and chemicals, and he doesn’t stop to take in whoever this used to be, just pushes up, and out, until he emerges from the ground like a zombie, like Night of the Living Dead. The ground around him is grown over with grass, and he grabs at it, using it as much as he can, as he crawls from someone’s grave, until finally, he pulls himself free from the earth, and lays there, taking breaths he doesn’t need, to clear the smell of the body from his nose. His suit and trench coat are filthy, but that barely registers, at this point. There are more important things to worry about, like getting home- He sits up, catches sight of the gravestone.

Emily Deetz Devoted Wife, Beloved Mother “Whom Most We Love Reach First the Golden Gate, Leaving Us Desolate”

He stares at the etching on the stone, and feels something in his mind snap, like a rubber band stretched too tight. He’s seeing the world through a fisheye lens, his vision distorted, blurry, as he tries to understand exactly what just happened. Juno made him crawl out of his own mother’s grave. The body he still reeks of was Emily’s. He sits there, a long time, not feeling much of anything, only able to stare, replaying that memory, over and over, and the only thing that makes him move is the sudden realization of what grass over a grave could mean. Emily’s been buried long enough for it to grow. How long has it been since he’s been home? He does his best to push this fun new trauma down, as far as it will go. He’s got to get back to his family. What’s left of it, he thinks, humorlessly.

He stands, off balance, and wipes some of the dust and dirt from his face, and finds that, annoyingly, his glamour has slipped, and it refuses to reapply. Maybe he’s too drained, though he’s not sure how he’s going to get back home, clearly looking as deranged as he must. He’s too exhausted to teleport, and he wanders around the cemetery, avoiding the few people there as much as he can, as the sun dips low, and vanishes. At least by that point he can force his teeth and ears to resemble normal human’s. The moss and eyes, well, he’s too worn down to care. So he’ll look like an extra grubby hobo, he thinks. That’ll have to be his new look, for now.

He reaches a gate, and leans on it, and then falls through it, and blinks, confused. He’s never been intangible by accident, before. Usually it takes concentration to make his solid form incorporeal. He stands, straightens out his suit collar, adjusts his sleeves, fiddles with his tie, as he thinks. There’s got to be someone around here who can call his family for him, or at the very least, a cab. The cemetery is growing darker, and his attention is drawn to the far off flicker of candles. He feels a pull, and he approaches, taking in what he sees.

It’s a group of five teenagers with an Ouija board. Predictable. He snorts, and expects that sound to alert the kids to his presence, but they don’t even turn to see what the noise could be. He steps closer, until he’s fully illuminated by the glowing ring of candles around them, and he tries to be friendly. “Hey, just a normal livin’ adult human man, in a cemetery, at night, approachin’ a group of children. You kids wanna be helpful an’ call me a cab?” BJ tries, but he’s ignored. The kids don’t even look in his direction. He remembers being a snot nosed teen, but this is a bit much. His blood boils, and he leans down, claps his hands in one of the teen’s faces, and she responds to that, but not in the way he wants. “I think I just felt a cold spot!” she tells her friends. “In front of my face, just now!” “Calm down with that,” a red haired girl shoots her a look. “We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already having a spiritual experience. Yeah, right.” “No you guys, really!”

“Lookit me,” he interrupts them. The children continue to squabble. His gut clenches. “Look at me!” he demands, storming to the center of the circle, and kicking at their stupid board game. His boot goes through it. They don’t react. Why would they, he realizes, sinking to sit on top of the board.

He’s invisible.

He tries to recall everything Juno had said, as he’d struggled to keep conscious, while impaled. Loneliness. Invisibility, being at the command of the living. Being… forgotten. No, no, NO- His impending freak out is stymied when he feels hands go through him, and he shoots up, hovering over the board game, as the teens below him react. “Oh my god, total cold spot! Should we like, make a note of that?” “Come on, come on, let’s start, while there’s still someone or something here!”

The five teens lean forward, each placing fingers on the planchette. “Is there anyone here?” one of them asks.

Betelgeuse stares, and feels a tug, again, clearly coming from the board. He knows some demons use these things to play with their food, before they eat, so he gives it a go, and floats over the game, head down, feet in the air, like he���s diving underwater. Maybe these kids can actually help him. He pushes the planchette with one finger, to land on “Yes.”

“Did you do that?” one boy asks, and the group devolves into the kids blaming each other, and he rakes his hands down his face, and tries to move the planchette, again, but they’re too busy squabbling, they’re not touching it anymore. Fuck, this is frustrating. He’s never wanted a group of teenagers to drop dead as badly as he does right now. Finally, they put their hands back on the pointer, and ask another question. “Are you friendly?”

This time, he pushes the planchette to spell, instead. “S-U-R-E.” “That doesn’t instill a lot of confidence,” the redhead from before mutters. “What do you want?” He nudges the pointer along, painstakingly slow. “H-O-M-E.” “You want to go home?” “YES.”

“For fuck sake, yes,” he groans, and then perks as one asks, “How can we help you?” Well… he’s not actually sure. He squints, trying and failing to recall everything Juno had said. How is he supposed to work with this curse thing, when he doesn’t know the rules? He digs his hands in his pockets, frustrated, and then blinks, because there’s what feels like a business card there, one that he doesn’t remember. He pulls the paper from his pocket, studies it.

BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE BEETLEJUICE

He remembers the way Juno had chanted his name, before he’d lost consciousness. That must be it, then. His name is his burden.

“M-Y-N-A-M-E-T-H-R-E-E-T-I-M-E-S”

“Oh, wait, wait, guys, I’ve heard of this,” one of the girls gasps. “Demonic entities, they have you do things in threes, to mock the trinity, you know, father, son, and holy ghost. It’s a demon thing! We might be talking to a non-human spirit!” “That means we can’t trust it, right?” A boy asks, and they all look uneasy. He steers the planchette around the board, desperate. “W-A-N-N-A-H-O-M-E-P-L-Z.” The redhead wrinkles her nose. “Do demons use chat speak?” she asks, glancing around the group.

“O-H-M-Y-G-O-D-U-K-I-D-S-A-R-E-K-I-L-L-I-N-M-E.”

“I’m not afraid. Tell us your name, spirit!” a boy calls, and he gives the planchette a push, intent on spelling it. The pointer doesn’t move. “Come the fuck on!” he growls, but it doesn’t matter how much strength he puts into the action, he can’t move the dinky plastic piece to spell out his name.

“Spirit? You there?”

“F-U-C-K,” he spells out, in a rage, because this is pointless, he’s too exhausted and sore to think of how to make this work, and he just wants to go home, and see what’s left of his family. He growls again, and then snuffs all the candles in the circle, all at once, causing the kids to scream, and scramble, and that, at least, forces a rictus grin from him. He’s always enjoyed the sounds of terror. He leaves the children tripping over themselves in the dark, and decides he’s going to have to make his way home the old fashioned way- floating. At least he doesn’t have to walk, he supposes, tucking his legs under himself, and he floats invisibly out of the cemetery, and down the sidewalk, trying to focus on how good it will be to see Lydia and Charles, and not on how they won’t see him, and especially not on how every part of him, physically, emotionally, mentally, is hurting. read the rest over here~ If you're totally lost, I find starting at the beginning of something often makes the middle of something make better sense. So you can start at the very beginning right HERE

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fic #beetlelands fic #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice the musical #my writing #lydia deetz #charles deetz #emily deetz #shorter chapter now to facilitate longer chapter in the future. it is what it is beloveds

[thedemisedroyal]

Dangerous Betrayal | TVD/TO

The Vampire Diaries & The Originals

AU Story

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰𝚁𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚂𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙽!

• A U T H O R •

Elena felt very uncomfortable as Caroline walked away with Stefan on her arm, walking to the outside of the mansion to go dance. "I wanna apologize to you for being such a world-class jerk, the other night when I tried to kiss your sister. No doubt she didn't tell you, I wanted to apologize because I know I insulted you as well. I would have apologized to your sister but I can't seem to find her." Damon started off sincere, a glum look upon his face. Elena nodded, she was on guard a bit,"Yeah, she's back at the house. Jenna told her she wasn't to leave until she finished cleaning her room. She might show up later on though." The eldest Gilbert simply explained, Damon nodded, looking around the room before continuing.

"My therapist says I'm..sting out, trying to punish Stefan." Damon spoke, Elena furrowed her brows in confusion. "For what? And why go for Esme?" She was immensely confused by the man,"It's all in the past. I don't even want to bring it up. Let's just say that the men in the Salvatore family have been cursed with sibling rivalry." He pointed behind him to the registry," And it all started with the original Salvatore brothers."

"The Salvatore name is practically royalty in this town, until the war, there was a battle here—" Elena interrupted,"The Battle of Willow Creek." Damon muttered a 'right', letting Elena talk for the time being. "I know, we talked about it in class. Confederate soldiers fired on a church with civilians inside." Elena boringly told, she already knew such information.

Damon nodded,"What history books left out was the people that were killed...," Damon started to walk around Elena, and more towards the door. "they weren't there by accident. The are believed to be union sympathizers. So some of the founders on the confederacy side back then wanted them rounded up and burned alive." Elena follows right behind him, crossing her arms across her chest.

The raven haired man continued on with his history lesson, "Stefan and Damon had someone they loved very much in that church. And when they went to rescue them they were shot. Murdered in cold blood." He gulped, looking Elena, finally, in the eyes, he had a look of sorrow in his eyes. The brunette narrowed her eyes at the wall, in thought,"Who was in the church that they wanted to save?" She asked, Damon slightly shrugged,"A woman, I guess. But it was said in old tells that Damon had another woman he cared about in there, said to be his old best friend of his." He stopped for a moment,"But doesn't it always come down to the love of a woman?" He rhetorically asked, slighting smirking.

Elena took a deep breath,"Look, I'm sorry that you and Stefan have this thing between you but I can't get in the middle of it, Damon. Nor Esme. I just...I hope you two can work it out." The wilder Salvatore nodded,"I hope so too." He whispered, but she was still able to hear him.

Soon, the two made their way out, but, Damon stayed back for a little while, walking back to the registry. He had a sorrowful look upon his face as his thumb softly grazed the name that was written beneath Stefans. It spelled, in a beautiful cursive, Samatha Salvatore, Damon frowned a bit, his eyes getting a bit teary,"Little sister..."

• E S M E •

"Ooh, she lookin fine." The girl muttered to herself as she fixed her lipstick and hair in her hand mirror that Esme kept in her purse. The girl did in fact, looked very beautiful, wearing a long and flowing flower dress, colored a cyan/turquoise with pink and white flowers covering around it. It had a long slit in the middle to show off her long gorgeous legs but it was still appropriate looking.

She snapped her mirror closed, and put it away, fixing her straps of her dress and continuing her very long walk to the Lockwood Mansion. Slightly wobbly as her high heels got stuck in the grass, tripping on a rock here and there. "Why the fuck did I wear these damn heels. You fucking idiot!" She scolded herself, stomping her way to the mansion instead.

As she finally made it to the busy and full house her eyes wondered across the crowds of people. Unfortunately, she saw none of her friends nor family, so the brunette went to go explore the 'museum'. Jordan had felt this magnetic pull towards upstairs, so out of her instinct, she followed it.

Walking up the stairs to see the second floor was completely abandoned, not a single soul was up there. She then entered a room that held all the founder families's old things, like necklaces, journals, rings and more. The younger twin walked to the side that held the name Gilbert, but she ignored it as she was pulled to a black velvet box, something the girl didn't recognized.

Jordan picked it up, opening it to see a black and red ring. It was a pure black steel band, with dark blood red gems decorating it around the band. In the middle was a circle shaped, dark blood red gem in the middle, designed beautifully.

She took the ring out and placed the black velvet box back into the table. Her pointer finger slightly grazing across the detailed band, and final stopping at the big gem in the middle. Images flashing in her mind, first was a man, curly, dirty blonde hair, but his back was facing her, his hand folded behind his back. The next one was her mother, but her actual mother, the Firstbeing Queen, she had a sadistic smile upon her face, so similar to her own. Then finally, it was her, her eyes were completely black, with dark blood red patterned veins running down beneath her eyes, with hints of black.

Jordan gasped a bit as she was taken back to reality, she clutched the ring, calming herself. But she felt frightened by the ring, so she quickly grabbed the black box and put the ring back. Though she couldn't put it down as she heard someone coming her way, it sounded like Caroline and...Damon?

The Gilbert couldn't exactly tell what they were talking about, before she could think the two already made their way into the room. The girl swiftly turned around, hiding the box behind her back,"Oh hey Esme! Where have you been!" Caroline bubbly asked, Damon sent a soft smile towards the girl. Esme forced a smile,"Hey Care-Bear, sorry I'm late. I had to clean my room because Jenna told me I couldn't leave the house unless I did." Esme spoke happily, moving her hand to her purses back pocket, stuffing the box inside the pocket. It may have terrified her but maybe it had answers she so desperately needed.

***

Esme rubbed her sisters back, trying to show her support as Elena was glum after her fight with Stefan. The two made their way to the bathroom to freshen up. "Hey." Elena and Caroline spoke to each other, but Caroline and Esme sent each other a genuine smile through the mirror.

Elena made her way for the mirror to touch up her makeup, but Esme went to the side to fix the straps on her high heels, something she kept tripping on. It was silent until the blonde spoke up,"So how are things with Stefan?" She questioned, Esme cringed a bit, knowing the fight between her sister and the younger Salvatore.

The younger twin watched her sister her a bit uncomfortable at the question, she plastered a obvious fake smile,"Great. Just great." Caroline quirked a brow,"Really? Well, my radar must be off cause...," The blonde bent down to watch her apply lipstick properly, without any smudges. " I was getting all sorts of other vibes." Elena took a big inhale, fixing her hair, but Esmes eyes were still on her best friend.

Spotting something unusual on her body,"What is that?" Esme questioned, walking towards the Forbes girl, Elena tok tied her head to the side, furrowing her brow in confusion. Caroline hummed, still applying lipstick, the. Standing up straight to face the younger daughter. Esme moved her hair, her hand going to her scarf where she saw something of of the ordinary, but Caroline pushed her hand away,"D-Don't." The blonde stuttered, making the twins even more suspicious.

Esme quickly pushed up her scarf when Caroline didn't notice, showing the two a massive bite mark on her neck,"Oh my god, Caroline! What happened." Elena asked, in fear and confusion. "Nothing, okay." Caroline defensively told, slightly backing away from twins. "That is not nothing! Did somebody hurt you?" Esme harshly spoke, already getting defensive of Caroline, someone had gruesomely hurt her.

"No, okay, it..." The Forbes paused for a moment? Skating her head,"Nothing, it just.." Esme packed up for a moment, connecting the dots,"My mom would kill me." Caroline went back to the mirror, slightly scared as she fixed her makeup again, to avoid conversation. But something caught her eye, the same thing she saw when she was fixing her shoe.

Esme pulled down Caroline knitted white jacket, showing another bite mark that looked more recent,"Did Damon hurt?" Esme asked, Elenas eyes widened,"Did Damon do this?" The elder twin asked again, Caroline slightly shook her head, pulling back up her jacket, quickly,"No! Of course not!" Caroline defended, Esme immediately went to pull back down the sweater but her arms were pushed away.

"Just leave me alone, okay, Esme? God." The Forbes yelled, that's when Esme knew this was serious. Caroline rarely ever, near impossible, that she got yelled at by the Forbes. The twins looked at the blonde in disbelief as Caroline stomped her way out of the bathroom. The twins locked eyes before Esme's face was filled with anger, and she followed Caroline's lead.

Elenas eyes widened, she knew that look of Esme's, she had that look thrown towards her before. "Esme! Stop!" She yelled after her younger sister, running after her. Though the girl paid no attention. As she walked to the outside where Damon was last seen, the lights flickering and things slightly shaking as she walked passed them.

Esme quickly walked down the steps, making her way to Damon, who was already facing towards her with a clear smirk on his face, Esme pushed him, harshly. "There is something seriously wrong with you. You stay away from Caroline or I will go straight to her mother, the sheriff. You got it? Say away from her." Esme defensively told the raven haired man, her eyes shining a neon scarlet red, but only for half a second. He quirked a brow, confusion running through his eyes. Esme walked off, rage soaring through her,"Bastard." She muttered, in the corner of her eyes she could see Elena walking away from her and towards the fountain.

***

Esme walked around the mansion for the fourth time, she couldn't find Caroline nor Damon, and she was starting to get worried. So she and Elena split up after her other altercation with Stefan, Esme searched thoroughly inside while Elena went outside. But it had been nearly twenty minutes already and she hadn't found Caroline, and she didn't see Elena anywhere. So, she made her way outside as well to find her older twin.

As she walked, she was able to see Elena holding Caroline in her arms, Esme was able to hear Caroline sob into her sisters shoulder. Elena turned around, feeling the presence of her sister, as she was right, the two locked eyes. Sending each other a saddened look, Elena then turned to lay her head against the sobbing Caroline's shoulder, trying to comfort.

Esme would have joined but her head started to ring, she turned her head a bit, holding the side of it. It stopped, but was replaced by voices, "Thank you for staying so late." A males voice, she furrowed a brow, straightening her stance as she looked around the empty grounds.

"Did you get the Gilbert watch?" A woman's voice then appeared, Esme immediately recognized it to be Sheriff Forbes, Caroline mom.

'What did they need the Gilbert watch for?' Jordan questioned in her own mind, she knew where the exact location of the watch was, with Jeremy, knowing about the fight Elena and him had about it. But she didn't see the purpose or the importance of the watch.

"She claims it's packed away in her parents things." Mrs. Lockwood, Jordan knew the bitch. She was the definition of two-faced. "I can get it." A males voice pitched in, but this time, she had no idea who he was. She didn't recognize his voice, it sounded familiar, yes. But, Jordan didn't exactly know who he was. "Good, we're gonna need it." Sheriff Forbes spoke again, there was a second of silence.

"You sure?" Mayor Lockwood questioned, with Sheriff Forbes responding,"Five bodies all drained of blood. I'm certain." Jordan felt her heart drop, they knew. "They've come back." The unknown man spoke again, Jordan felt her heart race. She has to find out what they know, and why they want that damn watch.

#air #bonnie bennett #caroline forbes #damon salvatore #elena gilbert #elijah mikaelson #fire #kol mikaelson #nature #niklaus mikaelson #finn mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #klaus mikaelson #mikaelson family #water #stefan salvatore #tvd fic #tvdforever #tvd au #tvd fandom #tvd universe #tvdu #tvd #scarlet witch

[pancakpop]

Pretend | Jeonghan

A/N: This is very long (I’m exaggerating, but it really feels that way) and I feel like it’s all over the place and ends incomplete-ish, but this is just something I wrote and it took more twists than originally planned, but here we are. Enjoy.

Requests are open.

No matter how many times the words repeated in your mind they struck you. No matter how many times you tried to erase the words from your mind they stuck. You couldn’t believe his words. You couldn’t believe that those words were all you needed for the world around you to feel so damn deceiving.

“I was just pretending to love you. And I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

Jeonghan spoke quickly after sitting you down on the couch in the living room. His tone was harsh and dry, getting his point across clearly.

You let out of breath of disbelief, “What??” You asked, the words he spoke now were foreign to those he spoke to you just mere hours prior to this moment. The way the words were phrased confused you.

“You heard what I said. It was all pretend. Fake. Faux. It was never real. I just wanted to have some fun. And I did.”

“Are. You. Serious??” You seethed, but somehow, someway you managed to keep calm.

“Are you fucking deaf??” He asked. Now he was seething, so much, if you asked another question there was a possibility of him losing it. “How many more ways do I have to explain to you that I just wanted to fuck around with someone, mess with their head. It was pretend!! P-R-E-T-E-N-D.” He was now standing above you, his breath unsteady, his nostrils flared and his jaw clenched.

You still couldn’t believe it, why did he have to choose you. Why did he have to make it seem so real. Why was his first text to you this morning, “Good Morning beautiful!! Come over I have something really important to tell you 💖.” Why was he so deceiving.

Why. Why. Why.

Why did he have to capture your heart to the point where you thought he was the one. The one you would marry some day.

With your new found anger you started nodding your head and from where you sat collected your things.

A chuckle left your lips as you stood, causing him to give you a confused look and back up from you, “It was fun,” you smirked and walked out of his place not looking back, but you knew that his eyes were trained on you as he stood by his window.

And now you lay in bed a week later still confused as to how you never noticed his real intentions, he was so consistent with everything like a real boyfriend would be. You even shared I love you’s. That’s how deep in you were.

Everything was so real yet so fake. You should have realized sooner that Jeonghan was too good to be true. Too perfect to be real.

Were any of your friends aware?? Or were they also blind to his games?? Your parents never said anything either and parents are aware of everything. Was he really that convincing… ??

You rolled your eyes at yourself, “He obviously was that convincing. Stupid,” you mumbled to yourself, the palm of your hand coming into contact with your forehead.

You finally decided to get out of bed for the day and get ready for your breakfast date. Considering your ‘relationship’ with Jeonghan was only pretend that makes it so you can go on dates. Without people saying, ‘Isn’t it too soon??’

And lucky for you, you scored a cute guy named Soonyoung. He was so sweet and a gentleman. He had the cutest chubby cheeks and yet had an amazingly fit body you always found yourself admiring. He also had the prettiest eyes.

Yet you couldn’t help but walk around him with caution. He knew about your prior situation so he didn’t take offense when he could tell you were being cautious with him.

Either way, he wanted to take it slow with you.

After an hour you finally finished getting ready, you finished off with a few spritzes of perfume at your neck. And taking one last look at yourself in the mirror you take your small bag and walk out of your house.

You arrived at the café and looked around for Soonyoung, he said he caught a table outside, you were happy for that.

“Hey, (Y/N)!!” You heard your name and as you looked around you caught sight of Soonyoung’s waving hand.

You smile and head his way.

“Hey Soon,” you say as you enter his open arms.

He chuckles and once more says hey.

He pulls your seat out for you and as you sit pushes it back in than going back to his own seat.

“How’d you sleep??” As you asked him, you couldn’t help the instant smile that appeared on your face at the sight of him already smiling at you.

“I slept well, how about you??” He almost forgot to talk, he was just so enthralled in you just speaking to him.

“Like a baby,” you laughed, it didn’t matter what was happening in your life, you never let it take away your sleep or stop you from eating all your necessary meals.

“I’m glad and ok. So,” he let out a deep sigh, causing his body to resemble that of a deflating balloon, this worried you so reaching over to his side of the table you took one of his hands into your own. “It’s probably too soon, but I also invited my best friend because I wanted him to meet you,” Soonyoung nervously chewed his bottom lip, awaiting your reply or reaction.

You felt relieved that it wasn’t actually bad news and at the same time flattered, he’s already scoring brownie points early on and you’re not even official yet.

“Oh. My. Gosh. I thought you were going to say something bad, you scared me,” you could breathe again.

He chuckled, kissing the back of your hand in response, “he should be arriving soon.”

You both were able to eat your ordered food and order another two smoothies before he said that his friend was arriving, “I’m gonna go get him, he loves taking his time,” Soon rolled his eyes standing up and leaving a kiss on your forehead before running off.

It wasn’t long before Soonyoung was beside you with his best friend.

But it wasn’t long before the world around you so abruptly stopped as you looked up from where you were seated.

The excited giddy smiled you once sported was nowhere to be seen, it’s replacements being disbelief and shock.

Soon quickly caught onto your sudden change of expression, but it was obvious his mind wasn’t quick to process everything, how could he when the situation is confusing as is.

Jeonghan.

Jeonghan in the fucking flesh. You had managed to avoid him and his pretend ass (as if he even had one) for a whole entire week and now so suddenly life wanted to just place him in front of you.

As you sat there watching as the people and cars go by you couldn’t help the scoff that managed to escape you as your hands were clutched together in front of your now pursed lips.

With the quick glance you took at Jeonghan, he was also displeased with seeing your face again.

You couldn’t just sit there as they both stood and stared.

You couldn’t just sit there and not voice your dying question.

So as you stood you looked Soonyoung right in the eyes and asked, “are you also playing me??”

His whole composure changed at that question, he scoffs, “you really believe me to be capable of such a thing.”

“Considering your choice of best friend, I don’t really know what to believe right now Soon,” you looked at him as if he were an idiot for asking such a question.

He took a step towards you, his eyes narrowed, “you’ve known me for a year, a damn year and you think that now I’d do such a thing,” he lowered his voice -not wanting to cause a scene and spoke through gritted teeth as one of his pointer fingers shook downwards in anger with each word he spoke to you.

You rolled your eyes, “and I’ve known him for a year, what’s your point,” you challenged him.

He backs you up against the railing face not mere inches from yours, Jeonghan scoffs and you send him a glare, but Soonyoung gently turned your face to look at his again, his eyes which were fixated on you were filled with disbelief and an undertone of anger. At this moment you felt bad for accusing him of having bad intentions towards you.

“My point is. I’m not him (Y/N).”

The way he so sharply pronounced your name made you shiver.

“You see what I had to deal with for a year,” Jeonghan mutters, shaking his head.

Quickly looking around Soonyoung you reply to Jeonghan’s remark, “Because you fucking wanted to.”

“Hey,” Soonyoung’s fingers were once again turning your face towards his, “ignore him. Let me deal with him.”

You nod and grab your bag, “I just- give me time to think. I’ll- I’ll see you whenever.” You were glad you both had split the bill before hand because you were free to just walk away.

This time around his whole composure dropped, you had left him still gripping onto the railing as space you once filled was now empty.

S O O N Y O U N G

“How dare you do such a horrible thing to such a good person, huh,” he was at disbelief, he thought he knew his best friend much better than this.

Jeonghan was now at a loss for words, a strange occurrence as it never happens.

“A whole year of their life that they could have been doing whatever they wanted. But,” He chuckles, “at least because of you I met them. Really if it wasn’t for you recommending them to my workplace. I would have never met them. I’ll speak to you later.”

He pats Jeonghan’s shoulder and walks off in an effort to catch up to his date, wanting to comfort them.

He didn’t want them to give up on him.

He wasn’t going to give up either.

J E O N G H A N

He couldn’t believe his best friends words.

His only best friend.

His only friend.

Many weren’t too fond of Jeonghan, he always switched up on people without a sign.

Soonyoung was the only one who was safe from Jeonghan’s antics. He’s vowed to never do that to his best friend, because even when everyone at school told him to not speak to Jeonghan, Soonyoung went ahead and did it anyways giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Jeonghan was forever grateful to Soonyoung because he would have been friendless all throughout secondary school and high school.

Jeonghan just sighed and went back home knowing his best friend is a man of his word and will talk to him later.

He knew that (Y/N) would be happier with Soonyoung as he saw how nicely they matched.

He never meant to hurt anyone.

He just felt like he wouldn’t be able to give them the world they deserved.

And now he’s paying the price.

( Y / N )

You were finally back in the comfort of your home, now sitting on your couch.

You don’t even understand your real reason for walking away. You just knew the pressure was too real.

“(Y/N)!! Open the door please!!”

You sat on your couch contemplating on opening the door or not.

Finally, you remind yourself that Soonyoung has done nothing wrong. He’s actually done everything right.

Once at the door you slowly opened the door only to be faced with the biggest bouquet of roses you’ve ever seen.

“Soon!! What is this for?!?!”

“For upsetting you.” It was a simple statement that held so much feeling. “I also don’t want you to give up on what we have.”

You couldn’t help but smile at him, “I told you I would see you whenever that could have easily been later this evening.”

You locked your front door and let him set the bouquet down on the kitchen counter.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure. You’ve gone through a lot it just a day and then to go on a date and see the person who hurt you…” he shook his head as he sighed.

“I upset you more than you upset me. I accused you of not being real with me. I should be the one apologizing and buying you something nice to make up for it.”

He shrugs, “It doesn’t matter-”

You cut him off, “It does matter. You’ve done absolutely nothing wrong. I hurt your feelings and by the look in your eyes you’re still hurt by it.”

Caressing his cheek, one of his hands cupping your own, your voice barely audible but just enough for him to hear, “I really like you Soon, and nothing will make me give up on you or this relationship we’ve started. I was really flattered when you told me you wanted your best friend to meet me. You’ve done everything right up until this moment. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

He turns his face and left a kiss on the palm of your hand then pulling you in for a tight hug, “let’s just forget this ever happened and we can go on a date later this evening. How does that sound??”

“That sounds amazing.”

You were both still hugging when the doorbell rang, “I’ll get it,” he rushes over to the door and opened it without looking first.

It’s was a puffy eyed, tear stained Jeonghan.

You’ve never seen him like this. This side of him was completely new to you, he was the one to see you cry and the one to ‘comfort’ you.

He sulks into your home, you and Soonyoung shared a look of confusion at how strange it was to see Jeonghan this way.

“(Y/N),” him just saying your name brought back memories, but you could tell that this was different, “I’m so sorry.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at the floor, your bottom lip between your teeth, you scoffed, “you say that… now??” Your voice quiet but easily heard at the deafening silence that was in the room.

“Please, believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you. When I broke up with you… I lied. I’m a terrible person. I felt that I couldn’t give you the world and I saw how well you and Soonyoung got along, how good you looked together. So I thought it was best if you ended up with him. He’s a much better person than I will ever be. I’m so damn sorry.”

You squeeze your eyes as tightly as humanly possible, not wanting to cry in front of Soon nor Jeonghan.

“So… you mean to tell me, that it was all real. It wasn’t pretend. Why now Jeonghan!! What do you think you’re accomplishing by telling me this now!!”

He falls to his knees as if he can’t stand anymore, “Your forgiveness… Soon’s forgiveness.”

“Why mine??” Soonyoung asks.

“Because my best friend and only friend is disappointed in me. I could tell. I don’t want you to feel disappointed in me ever again. You are really the only reason I keep moving forward.”

“I said I would talk to you later,” Soon walks over to him and kneels down beside Jeonghan, “I’ve known you way too long to stop being your best friend. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

You just stood there and watched the interaction take place. You couldn’t stand to see his face again. You just wanted to crawl into a hole and die because seeing him again made your chest physically ache which only made breathing harder for you.

“(Y/N), please.” You were so focused on your aching chest and breathing, you hadn’t realized that Jeonghan had started speaking to you again.

“Ok. You’re forgiven, but I’ll never forget what you did, no matter if your intentions were good or bad I want you out of my face.” You turned your back on him.

You felt as if your whole world was crashing down on you. The feelings you thought were gone really weren’t, not feelings towards Jeonghan, but the feelings of the breakup, everything came back to you and you felt the weight on your shoulders once again.

Soonyoung was helping Jeonghan out, “is it ok if I come back??”

You only nod your head and lock the door behind him. He had a spare key anyways.

Once he was gone you broke down, the only thing missing were the tears, you cried enough of those.

You just got into pajamas and lay in your bed letting yourself fall asleep maybe, just maybe,  a nap will help.

S O O N Y O U N G

Soonyoung comforted his friend then told him to just take a nap and that after visiting (Y/N) he would come back.

He was lost in what to do, the two most important people in his life are both heartbroken and upset because of each other.

“I guess I’ll just continue treating them the way I always did.”

J E O N G H A N

“I just wanted (Y/N) to know that I had real and genuine feelings for them. I just wanted them to know that I wasn’t pretending to love them. That it was all real.”

“I just wanted (Y/N) to know that it was never pretend.”

~Em

#jeonghan #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #seventeen jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan au #hoshi #hoshi x reader #hoshi angst #hoshi fluff #kwon soonyoung #soonyoung

[demi-dufresne]

Haunted*

Hello! Still feeling particularly halloween-esque. Here’s another entry for the red vs blue bingo, hosted by @rvbficwars ! This one’s for gen, seeing as I’d probably tag it as that if it were on ao3 or something. Break a leg, blue team!

Church hated halloween. He fucking hated it. It was this time of year that kids got the bright idea to whip out the Ouija boards, trying to summon deadass spirits who want to haunt their houses or some shit. Nine times out of ten, one of them would move the pointer thing anyways. What was even the purpose of calling him there? Church hated it.

Like, okay, October did have its perks. For starters, it was the time he actually had the most communication with the living, being a ghost and all. That was pretty nice. He had very little memories still intact from when he was alive, and being around living people sometimes brought them back. And he really liked the smell of pumpkins, which was all over the damn place this month. So cool. October. Not cool? The responsibilities of being dead.

Every time a person put their grubby little fingers on the Ouija board, the nearest ghost was summoned. Okay, yeah. That makes sense. It just sucked that, in Church’s little suburb of Valhalla, he was pretty sure he was the only dead guy who cared to stick around.

One perk he got out of that? Messing with people.

It was twenty days until Halloween when he got yet another call. Every time this happened, Church felt like his stomach was being dragged up his throat by a vacuum cleaner. This time was no different. He choked on air, as if he needed to breathe, and then suddenly, bam! He was in some random house in the middle of town. Grand.

“What do you even want?” He grumbled. Of course, they couldn’t hear him. There were four kids sitting on the floor there, each with one hand pressed to the pointer thing. Church hadn’t been dumb enough to mess with this shit as a kid. Like, come on. You’re begging for trouble.

“Uh, dear dead guy, or something,” one of them said. He wore a obnoxiously teal (aqua?) shirt, and for some reason held his head down in prayer. “Welcome to my house, I guess. I live here. It’s pretty great. Bet you’re glad to be in my presence. But uh, hey. Don’t like, kill us, I guess. Amen.” The other three nodded, one in dark blue a little more enthusiastically than the others.

That first one of the kids- okay, hold on. They weren’t really kids. They were somewhere around seventeen, old enough to know better. That almost pissed Church off even more. “Okay, guys,” the dude said. He had dark black hair cropped close to his head, with a darker skin tone than the rest. “We need to remember to be, like, polite and stuff. I think. Maybe. Or wait, did it say aggressive? I don’t know, I’ve only looked this up on wiki-how once, in like, seventh grade.”

“Thanks, Tucker. Nice preparation. Always great to hear you have an expert on your team,” a second guy said. Ginger, curly hair, glasses. Looked like a fucking dork to Church.

“Let’s just get this over with. Why can’t we like, sit around and eat popcorn and watch movies like normal teenagers?” This third dude looked kinda… Hawaiian, almost? He definitely had a point, though. These motherfuckers could be doing literally anything else, and they chose to summon ghosts. Great.

“I like ghosts. My cat Apples was a ghost once. She came to me in a dream,” said the fourth one. Don’t do drugs, kids, Church thought to himself. Even sitting down Church could tell this guy was tall as hell. Something about him seemed familiar. Fucking druggies. There was always one of those in a group, it seemed.

“That’s nice, Caboose, but we’re not here to summon a dead cat. Don’t think they can talk, anyway,” the first guy- Tucker- said. “Alright, come on. Let’s think of some questions.”

“Ooh, I know. What is your favorite color?” The Caboose guy said. Church felt his face fold into a scowl. He came all this way for this? Who the hell cared about his favorite color? He was a ghost, for Christ’s sake! At least ask about, like, ghost stuff! Or something!

Either way, he was bound to the damn thing. “Hey, look! It’s actually moving,” nerd boy said. Church touched the pointer, sliding it across the board. The four teens started in awe, watching it glide slowly. Church didn’t have fucking time for this.

“Uh… B- wait, no- oh, yeah. B-L-U-D? Blood? Oh my god it’s gonna kill us! Why the hell couldn’t we have just like, watched Star Wars like you guys said we would? Holy shit I don’t wanna die,” the Hawaiian guy said.

“Shut up, Grif, it’s B-L-U-E. Blue. Dumbass,” nerd boy said.

“Oh. Hah. Right,” Hawaiian guy- Grif- continued. “Favorite color blue. Gotcha.”

“This isn’t even real, it’s not like it matters,” nerd boy complained.

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m Simmons and I don’t believe in things I can’t see,” Tucker mocked. “Grow a pair, dude. Grif, your turn for a question.”

“Right. Uh, I guess… What’s your name?”

If Church was able to kill them, he just might. Everyone started with that stupid question. Like, he was never asked anything of relevance. ‘Hey Church, what’s it like being dead?’ ‘Hey Church, do you want us to light a pumpkin candle?’ ‘Hey Church, how do you feel about not eating?’ Nah, instead it was a bunch of bullshit about favorite colors and names. Ugh. It drove Church nuts.

He did toy with the idea of giving his first name. Then again, who respects a ghost named Leonard?

“C---H-U-R-C-H. Church. Huh. That’s a weird name,” Tucker said. He then turned his head to the ceiling, shouting at what he probably thought was Church. “We didn’t ask you your place of worship, dude!” Church sighed.

“Oh look, he’s spelling something out again!” Grif called.

“I-M… okay, I’m, what’s next? Oh. J-E-W-I-S-H. Hey, he’s Jewish,” nerd boy- Simmons- said.

“Never said he was a dude,” Grif said. Simmons bit his lip.

“I- I just hope it’s a dude, I wouldn’t talk well to, uh, lady ghosts I don’t think-” Simmons stuttered out.

“Apples was a lady ghost,” Caboose said. “Oh! I know! Ghosty-man, do you know Apples?” Church laughed. If there was a druggie’s cat-ghost floating around with him, maybe life would be a little more interesting. All four teens started intently as the pointer moved to “No.”

“Whelp, sorry Caboose, looks like our Jewish Church here doesn’t know your dead cat friend,” Tucker said. “Church! Tell me buddy, are you the only ghost here?”

Church looked around the room. Of fucking course he was. Everybody else died and got to go up or down, but Church? He didn’t know. They couldn’t find a place for him, so they stuck him in the middle. Figures. He was alone his entire life, why should his afterlife be any different? He moved the pointer to “Yes.”

“I don’t know guys. I don’t think this is real. Tucker, are you moving it?” Simmons asked.

“The only place my fingers will be moving tonight is inside your sister. Bow chica bow wow.”

“I don’t even have a sister, assbag,” Simmons said. “Now grow up. This is fake and we all know it.” He stood to leave.

“He’s the only reason I’m here. He’s out, I’m out,” Grif said.

“Wait!” Tucker called. “Here, let me- Church! If you’re hearing me, prove you exist. Like, I don’t know, float something or whatever.”

This was another thing Church hated about Ouija boards. The people behind them almost never knew what they were doing.

Church moved the handle to “No” again. Tucker whined.

“Aww, come on man, don’t be like that!” Tucker said. Church rolled his eyes. “Wait guys, don’t leave, he’s moving it again. Uh, C-A-N-T. Can’t. Oh, come on. Dammit, Church,” Tucker said.

“Right. You two have fun with your fake ghost. We all know it’s you,” Simmons said. Caboose looked up at him with wide eyes. “Well, at least, Grif and I do. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna head.” He left Tucker’s bedroom, Grif trailing behind.

“Hey, ghost-Church,” Tucker whispered. “If they leave the house, you should haunt their asses.”

Okay. There was one rule of the Ouija board that it bugged the hell outta Church if people didn’t follow. That rule was saying goodbye. Like, not only is it common courtesy, but it leaves the portal stuck here. He’d have to stay in the shitty room where the kids were goofing off, and he couldn’t leave until they opened it again and closed it properly this time. If Church had learned anything about these motherfuckers over the past twenty minutes, it was that they certainly wouldn’t know how to close it. That aside, he didn’t want to see what Tucker got up to in here, his bedroom. Fucking gross.

If they did ask him to do something like a haunting, where he’d need to leave the house, however… and he agreed to it… he wouldn’t be stuck here. That sounded nice.

“S-U-R-E. Oh my god he’s actually gonna haunt them,” Tucker said to Caboose. “Dude I wasn’t being serious.”

“T-O-O, too what? L-A-T-E- oh god, dammit,” Tucker swore. “Fuck.”

“Maybe ghost-Church could say hello to Apples for me. I know they’d be best friends,” Caboose said. He still seemed a little too familiar.

Behind him, Church heard a door close. He followed after the noise, knowing Simmons and Grif to be the culprits. Afterall, he had some haunting to do.

II.

“Ooh, it’s really cold all of a sudden,” Simmons said, wrapping his arms around himself. Church knew that was his fault. Stand too close to someone and wow, it’s like they’re a living icicle.

“It is fall, dumbass,” Grif said. “Here, take my jacket.” He shrugged an orange jacket off of his shoulders, passing it to Simmons.

“You sure?”

“I don’t need a jacket, I’m always hot,” Grif boasted. Church smirked, taking a step closer to Grif. Grif visibly shivered.

“Grif, you’re a fucking liar. Now come on, we can’t just stand here on Tucker’s doorstep all evening. We still on for pumpkins tonight?” Simmons said.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot about that. My mom did buy them this morning, so they’re ready whenever you are,” Grif said, walking off the porch. Church was all but beaming. Not only did he get to fuck with these bozos, but he fucking loved pumpkins. If only he could eat, man. His (after)life would be complete.

The two of them walked silently, side by side down the autumn streets. Leaves were everywhere. Yellows and oranges and dark reds. It was kinda pretty.

And damn, what Church wouldn’t give to have the energy to read their minds right then. Shame he got so tired after a seance, because usually that wasn’t a problem. The joys of being a ghost, he guessed.

“Hey, Grif, can I ask you something?” Simmons said, looking over.

“Yeah, sure,” Grif said. “You want to borrow the jacket?”

“Uh… y-yeah. Right. Thanks,” Simmons said, his face suddenly flushing red. Grif passed him the coat, and he shrugged it over his shoulders wordlessly. A few moments passed before he said something. “Ugh, it smells like smoke.”

“Well, I smoke, my mom smokes… and I’m pretty sure Kai smokes weed,” Grif said.

“It’s gross. You’re gonna get cancer and die, dumbass,” Simmons said.

“Yep. That’d leave you sad and lonely.”

“Ppsh. Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you eating all of my parents’ food and making bad first impressions. And second impressions. And really, all the impressions,” Simmons said sarcastically.

“You eat all my parents food too,” Grif protested.

“Uh, yeah. If by that you mean I eat half a serving and then you finish mine, yours, and Kai’s without even asking, then yes. I do eat all your food,” Simmons said.

“Don’t make me take that jacket back, Simmons,” Grif said.

“Is that a threat?” Simmons said with a chuckle. Church looked between the two of them. He was having trouble telling if they hated each other’s guts or there was just a lot of, uh… tension. Romantic tension? Sexual tension? Friendly tension? Just plain regular tension? It beat Church.

They arrived at Grif’s house a couple minutes later. He opened the door, sliding into the house. It wasn’t even locked. Church was pretty sure that when he was alive, he must have been born in a city, because he hated unlocked doors. Something about them just set him off. He wasn’t sure what. Simmons shut the door behind him and Grif, and Church took a bit of his energy to lock it. Something about unlocked doors, man.

“Sister! Mom! You guys home?” Grif called. No one responded. “Whelp. Guess it’s just you and me, Simmons.” Grif waltzed into the kitchen, checking twice for good measure. Nope. No one else was here. A line of six pumpkins sat on the counter next to the stove, and some newspaper was spread out across the floor.

It kind of reminded Church of when he was a kid. It wasn’t a clear memory- those rarely occur- but it sort of seemed like something he’d done. The spreading out the newspaper, cutting off the lid, collecting the pumpkin seeds to put in the oven… It was familiar to Church.

Something about that made him wonder what year he’d died. He had no idea.

“Cool. Let’s grab some knives, it looks like we’ve got some pumpkins to carve,” Simmons said. Grif grinned.

“Hell yeah we do,” Grif said. He pulled down two of the six pumpkins off the counter. “Bigger one or smaller one?”

“Eh, whichever one you don’t want,” Simmons said.

“Dude. It’s a pumpkin. Just pick one,” Grif said, sitting down on the newspaper. Simmons plucked two knives from the butcher’s block, sitting down next to Grif.

“Fine. I’ll take the smaller one,” Simmons said.

“Hey, I’ve always said size doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it,” Grif joked. Simmons gave a forced smile.

“Heh, yep,” he said quickly. His cheeks were going red.

“Oh, relax. Grab the pumpkin, nerd,” Grif said.

“You’re a fucking pumpkin,” Simmons muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Grif said, nodding his head. “And Simmons, you know I can’t let that pass.”

“Grif, Grif, don’t- Grif-” Simmons said, but it was too late. Grif tucked his fingers into Simmons’ side, tickling him relentlessly. “Grif, Grif!” Simmons chuckled.

“I’ve got you now!” Grif called, laughing himself. Simmons had fallen over, sprawled out across the newspaper, giggles leaving his mouth.

Church stared down at the whole thing with one eyebrow cocked. What the hell.

Grif pulled away, panting with laughter. “Are you really out of breath from tickling me? Wow. You really are a fatass,” Simmons said.

“Kissass,” Grif panted out, falling next to him on the papers.

Simmons met Grif’s eyes. They just sat there for a second, making weird eye contact for longer than Church knew to be normal. Or at least, thought to be normal. Was everyone more comfortable with each other in the future? It beat Church.

Grif’s eyes flicked down for a second. Just a second. But Church knew what that meant. Simmons tilted his head, his eyes closing.

That’s when they heard someone pulling the door.

“Hey, dirtbags! Who’s bright idea was it to lock the door?” A harsh, almost southern accent filled the front of the house.

Grif groaned, rolling away from Simmons. Simmons jolted up, rushing to get to the door.

“Sorry sir,” Simmons called, “It was probably Grif.”

“That no good, lazy, son of a gun…” the southern man said, his words trailing into muttering.

Within the few seconds of the man coming to the door, both Grif and Simmons’ demeanors changed entirely. The two of them went from being relaxed and content and- maybe about to kiss?- to Grif starfished out on the floor grumpily while Simmons was wearing the biggest grin in existence. Church didn’t know what was going on, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Simmons unlocked the door, grinning up at the man who stood behind it. He had greying hair with a military buzz cut, and a bit of stubble surrounding a firm scowl. “Took you long enough,” he said.

“Sorry, sir. Grif and I were about to start carving pumpkins,” Simmons said. “Would you care to join us?”

“Join you? Grif, how dare you start pumpkin carving without your dear brother!” the man called. He pushed past Simmons into the house. Simmons, instead of protesting, just sat up straighter. He struck Church as the type to always be eager to please. The man made his way to Grif, looking down at him sprawled out on the newspaper. “At least wait for Donut.”

“Listen here, dickhead,” Grif said, sitting up from his position on the floor. “Just because you got with my mom doesn’t make you my dad. And it sure as hell doesn’t make that stupid son of yours my brother!”

Oh. Now Church could see what was going on. This man was Grif’s stepdad. That Donut guy was his step-brother. Got it.

“Oh, hey boys!” Someone else was standing in the doorway, looking between Simmons and Grif with a grin. Just by his looks Church could tell this guy was named Donut. He just… looked like a Donut. Short blonde hair, a pink tank top tucked into denim short shorts- if that didn’t scream Donut, Church didn’t know what did.

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to Simmons’ place. At least his parents seem to ignore me,” Grif said.

“My parents hate you, Grif,” Simmons said.

“As they should! All you do is eat and sleep! Why can’t you be more like Simmons here, listening when people tell him things-”

“Really? Thank you, sir!” Simmons said.

“-and then misreading them entirely, messing it all up! At least that’s humorous!” the step-dad said with a hearty chuckle. Simmons took a second, his face falling.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Grif said. He stood at his full height, narrowing his eyes at the man. “Come on, Simmons. We’re leaving.”

“Yeah. See you later, Sarge. Bye, Donut,” Simmons said, following Grif outta the house with a shrug. Church sighed. He really wanted the smell of pumpkins.

With that, Church felt a tugging feeling in his gut, like his stomach was being dragged up his throat by a vacuum cleaner. He knew what that meant. Another seance! Great. Just what he fucking wanted.

III.

“Dear father, son, and holy ghost- we come with peace in our hearts and curiosity as our intention. We wish no harm and only to learn of the other world. Vile spirits be warned. Amen,” started the first guy.

“Amen,” the group chorused. That group being distinguishably recognizable. Dammit. Church was ready to kill a man.

This was probably the last place he’d wanted to be. But, as cruel as fate is- he was back in Tucker’s bedroom.

This time, though, an Indian looking teen in a purple hoodie was leading the seance, blocky black glasses over his closed eyes. He’d gone and lit some candles, too. They weren’t pumpkin candles, but hey. It was close enough. At least someone had some respect for the undead.

“Peaceful spirit, we ask you to please state your name,” hoodie said, pressing his fingers lightly against the pointer. His eyes flickered open. The group- consisting of Tucker, Caboose, and some blonde guy in gray and yellow- followed suit.

Church sighed. He was so sick of this.

“C-H-U-R-C-H. Oh, hey there, Church, buddy!” Tucker called. “I was hoping you’d be back.”

“I wasn’t,” Church grumbled, but it fell upon deaf ears.

“Church! We wanted to tell you not to haunt Grif and Simmods!” Caboose said. His eyes were squeezed tight, as if he was trying to mimic the guy in the hoodie. He wasn’t doing it very well.

“His name is Simmons, you fucknut,” Tucker said. “Anyway. You can stop haunting them or whatever, but first you should definitely tell us any dirt you caught on them. Any secrets? Any mystery women? I mean, come on. Grif strikes me as the type to hold an illegal sex ring.”

Church had never realized the capacity of stupidity. These people freakin’ embodied it.

“Grif wouldn’t. I wouldn’t put it passed you, Tucker, but then again, I wouldn’t put much of anything passed you,” the blonde guy said. His whole face said ‘exasperated.’

“Why are you even here, Wash?” hoodie said. “You are obviously a skeptic of the supernatural arts. I can read it all over your face.”

Blondie-- Wash-- rolled his eyes. “I was told there would be cats. As of yet, I have seen no cats,” he deadpanned.

“Cats? Did you see Apples? I want to see Apples!” Caboose shouted, his eyes slamming open.

“Seriously. Shut up,” Tucker said. “Back on topic, Church! What did you dig up on our friends?”

Church moved the pointer with a sigh. These people were ridiculous.

“T-H-E okay the, wait not the, T-H-E-Y-’-RE. They’re. They’re what?” Tucker translated. “G-A- game? Y. They’re- oh.” Tucker paused. “They’re… They’re gay.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Wash said. “Have you seen the two of them?”

“I knew it! I always thought Simmons was a secretly a gay robot,” Caboose insisted. Church raised an eyebrow. For as strange as that sentence was, he swore he’d heard it before, somewhere.

“Ppsh. No you didn’t. That’s what you used to say about… uh, Leo,” Tucker said. At those words, everyone got real quiet. Wash’s head hung down. Hoodie bit his lip. There was something going on, and Church couldn’t tell what.

“Tucker,” Caboose said. His voice was lower than usual, almost at a whisper. “I miss him.”

“Me too, buddy,” Tucker said. He moved his hands from the pointer, swinging an arm around Caboose’s shoulders. “Me too.” Caboose’s eyes stayed locked on the board. He wasn’t moving.

“Caboose. It wasn’t your fault,” hoodie said.

“Thanks, Doc,” Caboose whispered. “But you do not have to play pretend. I did bad.” It almost looked like he was going to cry.

“He was your best friend. There’s no way you would have done that on purpose.” Wash said.

Church took a second, looking at the people across the room.

That’s when it hit him.

Church had that feeling again. The stomach sucked through a vacuum cleaner kind of feeling. Except this time, he wasn’t travelling in space. His mind was going back in time.

A flashback. A flashback of when he was alive.

He knew where he was, somehow. He was outside Michael’s house. He stood with his hands in his pockets, a beige newsboy cap over his messy black hair. He could kind of see his breath, if he tried really hard. He had to squint to really see it.

He must’ve been like, eleven at the time.

It was such a vivid picture. For the minutes it took, Church felt like he was actually there. The details of Tucker’s bedroom faded out as the muted yellows of Michael’s house faded over his vision.

He rapped his knuckles on the screen door, waiting a couple of seconds. Church rocked back and forth on his heels. It was mighty cold outside, especially for the time of year. Leaves were a muted brown and red, occasionally bright yellows sticking through. It was October. His birthday was coming up. He was gonna be a big twelve year old soon, and he couldn’t wait. One more year until he could actually get into PG-13 movies in the theatres! He wished his mom was still around. Maybe she could have taken him. God knows his dad wouldn’t.

“Michael! Hey, Michael! Michael J. Caboose, open the damn door!” He called to the upstairs window. Of course he didn’t think to try the handle. It was always locked. That’s how the Caboose family was- always locking things.

This was the one time they didn’t.

Church rocked on his heels again, whistling some melody off key. Two flights of stairs up, a certain Michael leaned over the window, looking down at Church with a grin on his face. Boy, was Leo gonna love him! He had the funniest idea for a prank. All he had to do was startle him, drop the thing twenty feet to his left, and laugh about it later. Nothing could go wrong. It was the perfect plan.

Church didn’t hear the window upstairs slide open. He certainly didn’t see the bright orange of a pumpkin being pushed out of said window, a smiling Caboose looking down over him. And he definitely wasn’t awake long enough to feel the brute force of the impact, the pumpkin smacking into his head and his head smacking the cement. It all happened too fast.

Caboose’s smile slipped slightly.

“Hey guys, we’re back. We- oh, come on. You’re still playing with that ghost bullshit?” Simmons’ voice interrupted. Church’s flashback came to an abrupt end. Grif and Simmons stood at the door, Grif peering over Simmons’s shoulder. His eyes were trained on Church, almost as if he could see him. But he couldn’t. No one could.

Church took a step back, suddenly heartbreakingly aware of the people in the room.

Tucker. Lavernius Tucker. He’d lived on Second Street, right down the block from Church’s house. They’d learned to ride bikes together.

And Doc. Frank DuFresne. That idiot thought he could heal anything, though he’d barely even earned his nickname. Hell, Church was the one that gave it to him. Once put a band-aid on Church’s mouth to get him to shut up.

Simmons. Richard. And Dexter Grif! They were the two kids on the playground who would always fight over who got the basketballs at recess… Dexter would only fight Dick about it to piss him off, and Dick would throw a hissy fit. God. It seemed like forever ago.

Wash didn’t ring that many bells, but even Donut was starting to seem familiar. He knew them. He’d known them.

And Caboose.

He’d killed him.

“And like, dude,” Tucker continued talking to Caboose, as if Simmons and Grif still weren’t there. “We’re not stupid. We know why you turned to ecstasy in the first place. But like, man. It’s really fucked you over,” he said. “It’s been five years. You need some closure or some shit.”

Caboose still hadn’t moved his eyes from the Ouija board. Church took a second, looking at this broken man. He was labelled as a murderer at twelve years old. And, as Church slowly realized, he’d turned to drugs to forget about that. To forget about the one time he fucked up and ended his best friend’s life.

But he couldn’t.

Church didn’t have much energy left, but damn if he wasn’t going to try his best. No hands were left on the pointer. In the moment, that didn’t matter.

“Wh- guys, it’s moving. What?” Simmons said. He took a step further into the room, Grif on his tail.

“What’s it say, what’s it say?” Tucker said.

“Will you be quiet? The spirit is trying to contact us, how could it possibly think over all this chatter? What you guys need is some Chamomile tea, that’d calm you down,” Doc said.

“Doc, shut up, I’m trying to read it,” Grif said, squeezing into the circle. All six of them crowded around the board, watching quietly as Church moved the pointer slowly, carefully. All of his energy was going into this. It was all he had.

“Caboose. It’s me. It’s Leo,” Church muttered, using the pointer to spell his words as he spoke them. “Leonard Church. I’m here.”

“Holy shit. Holy fuck he’s here,” Tucker said. “Holy shit.”

“Maybe this is the reason I stuck around, my unfinished business. It’s been years, dude. I’ve always been here,” Church said. Caboose’s eyes were going glassy. He still hadn’t moved from his position, and hadn’t uttered a word. “I just wanted to say I forgive you. I do. It wasn’t your fault. I mean, yeah, it kind of was, but you didn’t mean it to be.” At this point in his speech, Doc had begun writing his words down letter for letter. Church noticed this, and used it as an excuse to move the pointer a little faster. “You aren’t defined by mistakes, Caboose. Michael. You’re defined by your decisions.”

Caboose pulled his knees up to his chest, blinking his eyes hard and fast. This was getting too much for him.

“And I mean, yeah. You’re a fucking dumbass. And so am I, I guess. But I’m starting to think it’s time to let go.” He paused the pointer here, looking around the room. Six faces stared at his hands intently. Five people he’d known his whole life, but hadn’t known until just a few minutes ago. Candles were lit around him, and faintly in the October air, he could smell a trace of pumpkins. It was time to go. “I’ll say hi to your cat, buddy, if I see her,” Church said. “Good luck.” With that, Church used the last shred of his energy. He moved the pointer hesitantly to the ‘Goodbye.’

Six faces looked up, searching each other to better understand. Their friend was gone, but up until now, he wasn’t really. No one said a word.

Huh. Church had always wondered what would happen when he ran out of energy.

He guessed he’d find out.

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