#I didn’t even imagine they’d make a pack of 6 of the same one

[aemondsbabygirl]

I thought I had ordered the whole HOTD funko pops set. Turns out I can’t read, and had actually ordered a box of 6 Aemonds. I present to you my little Aemond army.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Love Song for a Vampire Pt. 30

Pairing(s): Edward Cullen x Wolf!Reader, Jacob Black x Bella Swan, Jacob Black x Witch!OC, Edward Cullen x Bella Swan

Warnings:none

Words:1987

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9  Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17  Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21  Part 22  Part 23  Part 24  Part 25  Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33  Part 34  Part 35  Part 36  Part 37  Part 38  Part 39

The ending didn’t come out like it did the first time I typed this up but it’s close to the original I had worked on last night 🙃

Shocked wasn’t enough to describe the jolt Jacob received when he opened his front door and found Bella. The last bit of hope that imprinting on the witch had just been a dream was quickly eliminated. Standing before him was the love of his life, yet he didn’t feel that same giddiness he once felt with Bella’s presence. That terrified him more than anything; how quickly imprinting changed one’s life.

Behind her on the dirt driveway was a small, tan car. Probably here replacement for her red truck that was totaled when Riley took her. Late in the day, the sky is already casting the world in a pink and orange haze.“Sorry to show up unannounced.” He can tell Bella immediately wanted to nervously chew on her bottom lip as she was prone to do but stopped herself. Subtle changes could be seen on her. She’d been spending time reflecting on herself and really thinking of what she wants in life.

“No, it’s okay.” Jacob steps aside to let her in. Bella hesitated for a heartbeat before walking through. I guess it has been a while since she’s come over.

They go to his room which feel so small now that there was another person occupying it.

He hated this strange feeling. It made him not know how to act in front of her. Like she was a complete stranger to him now and not the girl he'd been mooning over for years. Jacob watches her in a queer way as she perched herself on the edge of his bed. "How has the pack been?"

"Good. (y/n) and Edward left with the Denali couple to drive them back to Alaska." He noticed the flash of momentary hurt on Bella's face before she regains composure and nods.

"I remember them saying they'd be leaving soon." They hadn't spoken about her meeting with them. Jacob had been too focused on what was happening with him and how, even though he was in his human skin, he could still smell Evita's citrus scent that beckoned him to go to Sam's. The alpha had warned Jacob though about scaring her off before she was able to finish the wards that was to protect them from hostile creatures.

“They left last night and should be back in a few hours from the text she sent to our group chat.” Jacob shrugs. “

At that, Bella actually smiles. “I wouldn’t doubt it. Edward drives really fast. Even Alice does too. It must be a vampire thing.”

He tried to think of something else to say, anything to make his life feel normal again. There had been nothing normal about his life though. His mouth was dry and tongue heavy. How could he go on pretending everything was okay? Not to mention he couldn’t imagine how Bella would feel once she learned that another guy who she deeply cared about was taken because of imprinting once again. Her wounds were still healing from her breakup with Edward. It would crush Bella. Jacob may have imprinted on Evita, but he still cared for her greatly. Just not romantically, not anymore.

By the blessing of those above, a tremor in the air gripped Jacob and Bella. The hairs on the back of her neck stand at the tingling that was rushing through her. “Wh. . . What is that?”

The strong aroma of orange blossoms fills his nostril.

Evita.

This had to be Evita’s magic swirling in the air. It riled up the wolf in him, making Jacob want to spring into action. Were it not for Bella being present, he might have leapt through his window and run to Sam’s house where he knew the witch was staying for the meantime.

Underneath his skin, the animal trembled and agitated him from the inside where he felt uncomfortable in his human flesh.

Inhaling deeply, Jacob closed his eyes to steady his breathing which had quickened. “Magic.”

Bella does a double take. “Magic?”

He stumbles over his words but manages to get Bella up to date on what had been going on in La Push. Even Jacob felt silly about the things he said out loud to her, all of this sounded so unreal yet that’s what his life had become.

The air was still fluctuating with that sharp orange smell and Jacob could spot goosebumps rising on Bella’s arms as an after effect to nearby magic.

“Can I meet her?”

“You want to meet her?” Yes, a reason to see Evita! His wolf rejoiced that he’d finally be able to be near her again despite Jacob’s efforts to ignore it.

Bella doesn’t waver. “Yes. If she’s here to protect the town then I feel like I owe it to her to introduce myself. This. . . This is my fault after all.”

“Stop saying that.” Jacob hated how she pinned the blame of all of the events that had led up to Evita’s arrival. “It’s not you’re fault. Something like this was bound to happen ever since the Cullens came to town decades ago.

“Regardless,” Bella sighed. “I want to meet her.”

That’s how they end up in Bella’s tan Corolla, the small car sped through the empty streets of La Push to get to Sam’s cabin. The drive was overall quiet considering both of them were off in their own little worlds; questioning what they had felt in his room when Evita’s magic swept up their senses into a flurry. The wolf’s eagerness to be near it’s mate was unfathomable as Jacob felt his hands beading with perspiration.

He wasn’t ready to see Evita. Not yet.There was no way Jacob could trust himself to keep his imprinting a secret from Bella if Evita is near.

And Bella, her skin still hadn’t stopped shivering with an odd delight; the back of her neck continued to tingle through her neck and spine. She couldn’t begin to describe the experience. Jacob had called it magic.

The drive didn’t take long, Jacob and Bella were great up for that as Bella’s car pulled to a stop in front of Sam’s cabin. Excited chatter could be heard streaming through from the inside of the house.

Bella gets out of the car first allowing Jacob a few seconds to himself to calm the roaring wave of his heartbeat.

Breathing in a deep inhale, Jacob unbuckles his belt and pushed open the car door.

Smoke from Sam’s chimney twirls out in long ribbons against the mystical color pallet that sunsets are composed of.

From a fluttering curtain in a window, a face briefly appeared and spotted the two of them as they walk up to Sam’s porch. In but a few seconds does Paul open the door to great them. His eyes narrow with caution that confused Bella. Instantly a tension spoiled the air and the house grew quiet.

“Jacob. Bella.” Paul casually greeted but there was a strain to his voice. “Fancy seeing you guys here.”

“We came here to see Evita’s witchcraft.” Jacob is quick to say, hopeful that Paul would buy the reason for it was true.

“We felt the aftershocks and I asked Jacob to take me to meet her.” Explained Bella.

That made Paul’s eyes round. “Aftershocks?”

Sam appeared behind him. “Come in.” He merely instructed and had Paul step aside. “Jacob, stay in the back with me.”

Sam’s living room was crowded with other members of the pack and was wholly transformed into a candlelit space for witchcraft. His usual furniture was gone and in their place were an array of strange and arcane objects. The light from the fireplace made shadows flicker against the walls and distort the shadowy figures of those present.

Everyone leaned in yet kept themselves from straying too far into the circle that Evita had made on the ground.

A small bowl of herbs are slowly catching ablaze by the beckoning of her foreign words. Bella saw with her own eyes a river stone crumble all by itself into fine dust that is carried on an invisible wind and into Evita’s clasped hands. The delicate skin of her wrists appear paper thin as even Bella could see the many lines and rivers of her veins. They looked like they were made of lightening as they burned from under her skin.

Her lips move rapidly in her incantation, and as her words carried into the room, the energy shifted. Candlelight made the dark sway.

Entranced were the rest of the pack as they held their breathing, taking in the wondrous sight before them.

More sharp spices fill the air along with Evita’s citrus scent.

Jacob couldn’t tear his eyes off of her wild and flying curls that whip around her face that was lined with painful looking scars. To Jacob though, the dark scars that run along her face accentuate her fine cheekbones and full lips. A spatter of freckles add to her charm.

The wild wind of energy that had been swirling around her seem to fall away. Time itself felt like it froze.

Multiple breaths that had been held in up until that point exhale with an edge of relief. Her spell was complete.

When the candles are blown out by the dying breath of her magic, Sam slowly turns on the electronic lights of his house. Sitting in the middle of the living room was a pale Evita. Slowly she removes her top hand to reveal an object the size of a quarter and equally flat.

The color of it was the glittering shade of emerald. A warmth eminated from it.

Weary from her efforts, Evita explained with a tired voice “I have five more of these to make. They are to be distributed throughout Forks and La Push. The ward is this small so that it won’t be easily spotted by your enemies. We must bury them at six specific points. About a foot into the ground.” She passed it to Jared who held it with reverence. The ward made it’s way around the pack as they ‘ooed’ and ‘awwed’.

Leah and Seth gather around Evita to help her up and into Sam’s bedroom where she was regain her strength.

Jacob followed the trio with his eyes, unable to follow them thanks to Sam.

While Bella hadn’t been able to be properly introduced to Evita, the visit had been worthwhile. She’d never imagined that magic would look quite like that or that it would feel so intense.

When everyone had a chance to examine the ward, Paul snatched it from Collin’s hands. “This is to be put somewhere with the highest security. This may not look like much but it is essential if we want to keep our territory safe.”

This was not fun and games.

Sam put a hand on Jacob’s shoulder, alerting him it was time for him to go. “She’ll be alright. She warned me ahead of time that this would take a toll on her energy. Proper sleep and food will do her good.”

If Sam hadn’t been Jacob’s alpha, who knows what he would have done. Any other wolf would consider Sam’s posturing as getting in between Jacob and his mate. Hell hath no fury like a wolf being kept apart from their imprintee.

Jacob was still experiencing a heady daze and thankfully didn’t put up much of a fight as he taps Bella’s arm to get her attention. She was still staring at where Evita had been creating her ward.

The simple physical contact coaxed her back to her senses and they slink to the front door. Both too stunned to utter a parting word to anyone.

Bella didn’t know how long they’d been there, but instead of the fuchsia clouds that were highlighted with orange there was now a vast sky filled with stars.

Stars were dull though in comparison to the headlights on Edward’s car that shined right at them.

——

Names that are in bold are ones I can’t tag for some reason

TAGLIST: @saltedcoffeescotch , @dangerouslittlefairy , @burn-crash-rqmance , @casedoina , @avadakadabra93 , @daryldixonstorm , @blue-aconite , @xanniestired666 , @esposadomd, @godinho11 , @arin-swear-rose , @alexizodd , @melaninsugarbaby , @lyeatoalinatoheaven , @ronwownsme , @itsmytimetoodream , @afro-hispwriter , @mutandis-extremis993 , @hxgemxscles , @nightly-polaris , @corrodedcoffins-slut , @ellesalazar , @itgetzweird08 , @crybabyatthediscooffandoms , @sassyandclassyx , @scarlet2007 , @theroyalbrownbarbie , @jennyamanda8 , @stevenandmarcslove , @biancaindaeyo , @loversjoy , @turningtoclown , @vixorell , @xxthackerybinxxx , @daredevilonmyheels , @dumbbitch-juice , @southern-bell-give-hell , @nat-the-gemini , @imdoingathingmomgmom , @emmettcullenswife , @yoong1c0re , @daddykylokenobi , @minjix

[dalgursbate]

Dame Aylin's Home for Wayward Girls (8/?)

Summary: Isobel swears she didn’t mean to start a commune. She’s not so sure about Aylin, though. Or, how a celestial and her reanimated girlfriend help the heroes of Baldur’s Gate process their trauma.

Rating: E WC: 20,515 Pairing: F/F/F, Isobel/Aylin/Shadowheart

part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5 || part 6 || part 7

Once they’ve left the pleasure house, it is unfortunately back to business as usual. Though, Isobel supposes, there really is no such thing anymore. 

They get to camp well before everyone else, having decided to return at first light. Isobel feels a dull ache of melancholy as they leave Sharess’ Caress, imagining a version of their lives where they could have spent longer luxuriating in one another’s embrace. She wonders what that world looks like, how their relationship with Shadowheart plays out when there is no apocalypse dancing at the edges of their collective consciousness. A world where Shadowheart does not face the looming threat of ceremorphosis, a world where the three of them could just exist and explore the new boundaries of their relationships with one another at an unhurried pace.

Isobel does not really claim to know where those boundaries are even in their own reality, truthfully, but she thinks that perhaps in that world they would be clearer. In the illusory existence she conjures, she and Aylin could spend the time to romance the cleric properly. To take her out to dinners and have conversations with stakes no greater than mere banter about a recent play they’d gone to see.

She wants that, she realizes, in a way that sends sharp pangs of longing to her chest. Isobel desires something more from the cleric than a dalliance, something more than an intimate friendship. The way Shadowheart slots so neatly in the space between where Aylin ends and Isobel begins—it makes Isobel ardently want to keep her there. She may not have the history with her that she shares with Aylin, may not have transcended death or conquered villainy or endured a century of torture to be with Shadowheart the way she and Aylin have for each other, but she finds it does not matter much. The yearning Isobel feels for her closeness is no less intense for it, and while she does not yet know the corners and crevices of Shadowheart’s mind the way she does Aylin’s, she finds that she craves to.

The mournful twinge in her gut throbs once more. Yes, she rather wishes they did not have to end their encounter so quickly.

She understands, though, that as the leader of their group Shadowheart has preparations to make and duties to attend to. She and Aylin did not need to exchange any words to know they would return with her, rather than stay and savor each other for another hour or two. Isobel assumes Aylin feels much the same as she does: that at best, allowing Shadowheart to leave and continuing in her absence would be unkind. At worst, it could send the message that the cleric is but an accessory for them to don and doff when convenient.

Isobel suspects Shadowheart already thinks of herself in terms of her utility. She’d rather not proffer more evidence for that misguided hypothesis.

The only other person there to greet them is Withers, who looks at Shadowheart curiously when they arrive. Shadowheart glances back at him with a quirked eyebrow as she grabs an apple from her pack.

“May I help you?” she asks, punctuating the question with the loud crunch of her teeth piercing the apple’s skin. Isobel fights to hide the way the corners of her lips tug upwards at the cleric’s insolent, indignant tone.

“Thou hast sought affections most greedily, it seems. Most mortals of this realm seek but one bosom companion.”

Shadowheart begins coughing violently as the apple she is eating apparently goes down the wrong pipe. There is a long, excruciating moment where it is the only sound in the camp. Finally, she catches her breath and levels Withers with a glare.

“I hardly see how that is any of your business, bone man.”

“See to it that thou doth not let it distract thee,” Withers continues gravely. Isobel thinks that she has never heard him be anything but, whether inquiring if they have need for his services or offering cryptic, unsolicited advice as he is now. Once more Isobel tries to smother a smile as she envisions what dirty talk sounds like coming from his mouth. Unfasten thine breeches and sit’st on mine brow ‘fore all is naught but dust and ashes.

Gods, perhaps she’s been spending too much time around Aylin.

Then Withers adds, “Recall that in time, all becomes dust and bone,” and a hysterical little giggle escapes Isobel’s lips before she can swallow it. The rest of them look at her strangely. Dust and bone, then, not dust and ashes. She was so close. She laughs again, unable to help herself, and slaps a hand over her mouth to dampen the sound of it.

“Ignore me, please,” she says airily once the giggling has ceased, waving a hand. “I am merely in the process of becoming a raving lunatic.”

“Worry not, my love,” Aylin says with feigned seriousness. “As worshippers of Our Lady of Silver, it would be accurate to say we are all stricken with lunacy.”

Withers looks unimpressed. “Be cautious, lest thou hinder thy mission with thy beguilement.”

Aylin smiles at him mockingly. “Perish the thought of it, ‘Withers,’ for we shall deliberate long on your exhortation and comport ourselves accordingly.” Isobel hears the verbal air quotes her lover places around the skeleton’s name and makes note to inquire about their significance later.

Something lights in Withers’ eyes then, that Isobel would almost call amusement. “‘Tis best that thou so do’st, Daughter of Selûne.” He turns to Shadowheart. “Remember that thou must keepeth sharp.” He pauses for a moment. “Though I suppose thou couldst have chosen…less suitable partners.”

With that, he glides away.

The three of them are silent for a moment. Then, Shadowheart breaks it by asking, “Sorry, but did Daddy Withers just bless our union?”

And then they’re all laughing like maniacs.

Hours later, they learn that today is the day of Enver Gortash’s coronation, and Shadowheart and her party have been summoned to speak with him. The rest of them, however, are evidently free to enter the Lower City without incident.

Isobel frets a bit about what Gortash may want from them, but she knows by now that Shadowheart can handle herself. She does worry slightly about Karlach, though; the barbarian had confided in her one night around the campfire about her history with that oily little politician. It sounded so awful, and had made Isobel grateful for Dammon’s interventions, so that she was able to pull the tiefling into a long, well-deserved hug.

But free as they are to explore the city, Isobel and Aylin have so far remained in camp, using the opportunity of Shadowheart’s absence to speak about her.

“You care very deeply for her,” Aylin starts. It is not a question.

“As do you,” Isobel responds plainly. Aylin nods.

“Yes, I must admit that I have grown rather fond of the little cleric,” she says, a smile growing on her lips. Still, her tone is serious when she says, “I believe our thoughts are in accord on this matter, but pray tell, how do you see her?”

Isobel considers it for a moment.

“I…I feel for her much the same way I did for you upon our first meeting,” she starts, speaking a bit slowly as she thinks about it. She wants to give the question its due weight. “My skin longs for her skin, my lips for her lips. My very bones call for her in much the same way they call for you.” She pauses, for a moment. 

“It is different with you, of course,” Isobel continues, “because over the years my soul has become one with yours entirely, and I am only just beginning to learn hers. But when I look at her I know it is the same as ours, that she was forged under the same stars we were.”

“Then we are in fact in agreement,” Aylin says, and the look in her eyes is so beautiful and soft that Isobel melts. “My affection for her differs from that which I bear for you, but though it is yet nascent and must still be tended, the magnitude nevertheless startles me. I suspect it shall find harmony with my love for you in time.” 

“Yes,” Isobel agrees. She closes the distance between them, resting one hand on the dip of Aylin’s waist. The other finds her hand, intertwining their fingers. She leans forward and rests her forehead against Aylin’s, creating a little bubble of shared space so Isobel can imagine that the whole world is contained within her lover’s eyes.

“It should not be surprising, I suppose,” Aylin grins, “as we have long possessed a singular talent for falling in love. Pity they do not hold races to devotion, my darling, as we would easily be crowned the fastest in the Sword Coast.”

Isobel laughs softly at that, and tilts her mouth up to catch Aylin’s lips in a kiss. She aims to make it chaste, but Aylin still can never quite manage that feat, so by the time they pull away from each other Isobel is breathless and a little aroused.

“We need to do something to help,” Isobel says after a brief moment. “I feel so useless to her, and there is so much she must be worrying about right now.”

“I have had similar thoughts of late,” Aylin says seriously. “I can sense the magic of her illithid parasite growing stronger, and I fear she is not acting quickly enough to prevent her transformation.”

“What do you propose we do?”

“I’ve heard tell of practitioners of the arcane arts within the city that far outpace any she may have encountered on her journey so far. I intend to seek them out today.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my love,” Isobel says. “Where shall we be headed?”

Aylin frowns for a moment.

“I have thought long about that; I suspect the investigation may keep me til the morrow, at the least, as there is much ground to cover and not much time in which to cover it.” Aylin pauses. “I think it might be best that I head on this journey alone.”

“But–” Isobel begins to protest immediately.

“Shh, my darling,” Aylin places a finger to her lips and smiles slightly. “Do not protest. It would be cruel of us both to vanish so quickly after ravishing the little cleric. And she seems to take a great deal of comfort in your presence.”

Isobel frowns, but even she admits that Aylin has a point. Still, it does little to quell her objections. “What of the danger? What if something happens?” she asks. “How will I know that you’re safe?”

“Divine blood courses through my impressive veins.” Aylin’s grin turns a touch shit-eating for a second, before she once more looks at Isobel seriously. “I’ll be back on the morrow, I assure you, to check in if nothing else,” she promises. “And you will know if I am in need of your aid. I trust with everything that you will sense it.”

Reluctantly, Isobel nods. “You’re right. I'll stay here. Just…please, be careful. I cannot bear to lose you again.”

Aylin kisses her deeply, once more stealing the breath from Isobel’s lungs, before pulling back. “I swear to you that I shall.”

And with that, her wings unfold and she flies off. Isobel is left with a sickening anxiety in her stomach, but she pushes it down.

Aylin will be fine.

When Shadowheart returns that evening, she seeks Isobel out in her tent immediately.

“You should have seen it, guys,” she says as she enters, hands gesticulating animatedly. “Gortash was such a slimy little—wait, where is Aylin?” she asks, only now noticing the aasimar’s absence. “I didn’t see her around the campfire.”

Isobel smiles, though she wonders if it’s very convincing. “She’s gone off to do some research on the parasite. She should be back tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Shadowheart says, and she looks confused. “Why didn’t you go with her?”

“Bold of you to think I could pull myself away from you,” Isobel says with a smile that is much more sincere. Then, she clarifies: “We thought it would be rude to leave without letting you know.”

“Oh,” Shadowheart says again, blinking. “That’s…thank you.”

“Of course,” Isobel says, and pats the ground next to her so Shadowheart will sit. Shadowheart does. “Though if I’m honest, I am quite worried for her. We’ve only been reunited for so long, and I am absolutely terrified of losing her again.”

“Why did she go, then?” Shadowheart is looking at her sideways.

“Because we cannot bear the thought of losing you, either,” Isobel says plainly, and she rests her hand palm-up in between them. It is an invitation, and Shadowheart recognizes it as such, taking Isobel’s hand in her own.

“Thank you,” she says, and Isobel can hear her swallow.

They sit in silence for a while, though Isobel finds it to be quite a pleasant one. There are unspoken words hanging in the air, but they are exciting and full of promise.

Then, Shadowheart speaks again. “Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

Isobel is taken aback at the invitation. She hadn’t expected Shadowheart to offer. Still, she nods.

“I’d like that a lot.”

She falls asleep that night with Shadowheart curled around her back. They have not done anything more than that, have not even kissed—not with the way Isobel’s heart is beating a rabbit-kick rhythm in her chest and her mind races with worry. But as she feels Shadowheart’s thumbs rubbing small circles into her skin, she relaxes into the other woman’s chest. She feels safe, warm. Protected.

Isobel is drowning. She is underwater. Something is clawing, brutal and burning, inside of her lungs and she cannot breathe.

She feels herself gasping and choking, feels the hot tears spilling down her cheeks as she succumbs to the curse again. She cannot see, her vision too blurred by the crying, the only thing visible in front of her the fathomless dark.

She is dying, she is going to die. The void is going to claim her once more, oh Gods, and she will be deadgonenothing for all of eternity.

There are so many thing she never—

—the thought is interrupted as a cool blanket of magic surrounds her whole body, and the raw, animal fear that has struck her like Chain Lightning dissipates in a single instant as the spell settles around her.

She can breathe again. She can breathe.

She gasps for awhile as her body sucks in air. Her vision stops swimming, and she realizes that she is sitting up in Shadowheart’s tent. She looks around and sees the other woman’s hand raised, surrounded by the gentle blue aura of the spell she has cast.

“How did you—how did you do that?” Isobel asks after what must be minutes, when she finally returns to herself completely.

“Calm Emotions,” Shadowheart answers simply. She is looking at Isobel with a deep concern etched on her face. “You were having a panic attack.”

“A panic attack?” Isobel asks, and her mind feels so sluggish from awakening in that manner that it takes a second for the significance of that to sink in. All this time, she has assumed that echoes of the magic that killed her have remained in her system. Has feared that she would never be free of it. “So it wasn’t…I thought it was from the curse.” 

“In a way, I think it is,” Shadowheart says slowly, looking very intently, very sympathetically, into Isobel’s eyes. “But I don’t think it can hurt you. Not physically, anyway, if casting Calm Emotions was enough to soothe it.”

Isobel stares at her incredulously. Neither of them says anything for a long moment.

Then, Shadowheart cries out in surprise as Isobel tackles her and begins kissing her madly.

She doesn’t stop for a long, long time.

[tiessainwonderland]

Pen Reviews

I’m addicted to writing instruments.  It’s a problem I’ve had since I was a kid when my dad would bring home pens that office supply vendors would leave with him at the bank.  I somehow managed to find a major in college that required me to buy every color marker that Prismacolor made (and then held onto them long past when they’d dried up).

I love a good Papermate Flair pen (have you seen the Sunday Brunch collection that’s scented???) and I’m a SUCKER for a pack of Pilot Precise v7′s, especially if it’s a limited edition color collection.  Dude.  Just take all my money.

Lately I’ve been craving a little more substance in my writing utensils.  Maybe it’s because I spend most of my day either typing on a computer, or writing on an iPad with an Apple Pencil, but there’s just something about the weight of a good, hefty pen in your hand, scratching against real paper.  To that end, I’ve bought a few things lately and I wanted to take a few moments to share my thoughts. 1.  BASTION ALUMINUM SLIM BOLT ACTION PEN I found this one through a Facebook ad that I clicked on one time and then it stalked me mercilessly until I caved and bought one.  There are a lot of varieties of this pen to choose from, so it’s almost impossible NOT to find something you like.  Their standard ballpoint model is 5.25″ long and weighs 1.3 ounces.  It also comes in a Slim version (5.31″ long, 0.8 ounces) and a Mini Clipless version (3.54″ long, 0.4 ounces).  You can get various models in Stainless, Aluminum, or Titanium, and the Aluminum versions come in 7 colors.  There are some higher end limited edition finishes available, and also fountain pens, pen holders, and even a journal available for sale on their site.

I got my Black Slim model using the promo code FB20 to save 20%, making it a really reasonable EDC purchase.  I like the weight and feel as it writes.  I did get the optional engraving and was surprised when it showed up with the engraving oriented vertically down the pen shaft (instead of horizontally on the clip, as I’d imagined).  If I had it to do over again, I’d leave the engraving off, but all together, this is my favorite of all the pens I’ll write about in this review.  5 out of 5 stars. 

2.  EVERYMAN ORIGINAL GRAFTON LIMITED EDITION MILITARY This is another one that comes in a variety of sizes and colors, including some limited editions that are pretty cool.  I got the Limited Edition Military, which actually looks like more of a patinaed brass than it does military green.  I wanted to add a mechanical pencil to make a set, but they didn’t offer the pencil in the same Military edition, so I ended up getting the pencil in Classic Silver.

These are super lightweight in the hand, which can give the mistaken impression that they’re cheap or not well made.  If I’m going to be writing a lot, these are good because my hand doesn’t get tired out too fast.  I also got these with a discount code for signing up for marketing emails (which I then unsubscribed from almost immediately).  Decent writing tools, I’d put them at a 3 out of 5 stars.

3.  BARON FIG SQUIRE PEN I’d seen this pen online a while back and thought it was good looking, but didn’t start obsessing over it until one of my coworkers pulled one out one day in a meeting.  It’s pretty small and doesn’t have a lot of heft to it, but it’s sleek and the Magenta color is GORGEOUS.  It writes like butter, and with an integrated twist top, there’s no cap, no clip, no nothing...just you and this slick little pen.  Big fan.  I still like the weight of the Bastion, but this one is my second choice, and I find myself treating it with more care than I do the others.  I actually got the Squire Rollerball Pen Stand in black for my desk to keep the pen in, like my own little hot pink Excalibur.  4 out of 5 stars.

4.  ERIN CONDREN COLORFUL GEL PEN 6-PACK Every time I get on the Erin Condren website, or even see an ad for any of her stuff anywhere, I get sucked in immediately because of all the pretty colors.  She’s the pied piper of office supplies and I’m a color-addicted leming, so it shouldn’t be a surprise that despite owning every color of Pilot Precise v7 ever made, I still couldn’t resist the pull of this 6-pack of gel pens.  The colors all together are very complimentary, and there are a couple in the pack that I actually DON’T already have in some other format, so I figured why not.  

The website advertised that I’d enjoy smooth, easy writing with these pens, and I’m sad that I have to say I disagree.  Aside from the ink skipping, these pens commit the most egregious sin a pen can commit: you can’t stick the cap on the end of the pen when it’s open for use.  It just falls off.  Who makes a pen anymore that you can’t lock the cap onto??  What are we, SAVAGES???  Now I have to take notes in this meeting AND keep track of my pen cap?  No ma’am, I don’t get paid enough for that.  1.5 stars out of 5.  Sorry Erin.  It’s unforgiveable, really.

[team-frightfur]

Dramaturgy Standard: Chapter 5&6

Disclaimer: I Don't own any of the characters, stories, or even most of the plot points. - Text Glossary Italics - Either emphasis or thoughts. Brackets - an aside. Brackets + Strikethrough - Repressed thoughts. Skippable.

The weather that morning was as crisp as always, all the trees still had their leaves, and the houses lining the streets still hadn't grown legs, packed their things and left for parts unknown.

In other words, it was a completely normal day, leaving Yuya clueless as to why he could barely put one foot in front of the other.

I really didn’t get enough sleep last night. That, or whatever happened back in my duel with Ishijima… I don’t even want to think about it.

Walking to school with Yuzu didn’t make Yuya feel any better. If anything, every step made the problem worse! By the time they reached the final corner where they’d normally turn into the school courtyard, Yuya was frozen solid.  

Yuzu came to his rescue. Grabbing his arm with a sympathetic look, she dragged him in by force.

The instant Yuya stumbled into the school courtyard, any conversation died. Before he could blink, every student, whether they’d been sitting alone on a bench, hanging out with their, or heading to class early, flocked over, cutting off any chance of escape.

Their stares seemed to stab right through him. Yuya's throat went dry. Next to him, Yuzu twitched as his grip tightened on her hand.

“Hey!” one started-

Yuya forced a smile on-

“-How does that new summoning method work?”

- then blinked. As his vision cleared, he realised that everyone’s eyes were just…curious.

All at once, the force freezing his legs down vanished. “It’s called a Pendulum Summon!” he spilled. “It’s not spell-reliant like fusion, but it does require monsters to set up like Synchro does! Only instead of tuners, you use these two Pendulum scales-”

*****

Using every trick in the book, Yuya managed to keep from giving too much away. Far from being satisfied with scraps, though, the other students kept Yuya busy until there were barely five minutes before class. If Yuzu hadn't driven them off, they might have trapped him there all day!

I should try to set this up on finals day. They can’t fail all of us, right?  

He was startled from his evil plot by the sight of his locker, cleaner and sparklier than ever. In his homeroom, his desk was also untouched.

Collapsing into his seat, Yuya let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding.

Seated next to him, Yuzu smiled. “See! Nothing to be scared of!”

Yuya blinked. “Scared?”

At first, he had no clue what she was talking about. He’d won, right? So what was there to be scared of?

The more he thought about it, though, the more it made sense. Yuya could barely remember defeating Strong Ishijima, but the last thing he did remember was begging for his life to change. Just imagining a world where he defeated Strong Ishijima, proved his courage, and proved his strength, only to be excluded like always was too much to bear. Maybe it had been the same for Yuzu, when she’d learned he was missing, and his mum, who’d made him promise to never disappear on this date ever again. Deep down, they’d both been scared that defeating Strong Ishijima wasn’t a change, just the first step in some horrible three-year cycle.

Yuya was so, so glad they’d all been wrong.

“Look at that big smile!” Yuzu griped. “Told you you’d feel proud of it!”

Yuya hadn’t even realised he’d been smiling, sensing an opportunity for a joke, he painted over it with fake hurt. “Shouldn’t you be happy for me?”

“I am! I’m just mad, too!”

“Happymad. Madpy.”

“You’ll never make it work.”

“Is that a challenge?!”

As grouchy as Yuzu was over Yuya’s disappearing act, even she couldn’t hide her smile when she saw You Show. Yuya’s win had done more than fix up his school life, it’d given You Show a full queue of students for the first time in years.

Almost too many, as it turned out. The front room was packed so full that Yuya could barely squeeze Ayu and Futoshi out of it. At the reception desk, Mr Hiiragi handed out application forms by the dozen as the printer behind him sputtered trying to keep up. Sympathetic, Yuzu gave her dad a break and took over the front desk, letting Mr Hiiragi double check the new Leo Corporation Real Solid Vision Projector for any issues.

Once they'd gotten the greenlight and Mr Hiiragi took over the desk again, Yuya and Yuzu got to talking on what to do next.

“I mean, we’ve just gotta do an introductory duel!”

“We shouldn’t risk improvising it, though.” Yuzu noted. “If you brick and lose before you can Pendulum, we’ll lose all these prospective students.”

Yuya pouted. “But I like duelling you seriously!”

“And I like my dad having money!”

Much as Yuya hated to admit it, he couldn’t argue with that. He could duel Yuzu anytime, but they wouldn’t always have this many prospective students. Sighing, he pulled out his deck and started leafing through it. “Staged match it is. Magicians on top?”

Five minutes later, Yuya and Yuzu were both on field, their game-plan fresh in their minds. Next to them, children were packed into the viewing room like sardines.

The action field they'd decided on was was “Plain Plain” -a boring name for a very cute action field! Cheering erupted from the kids as, within seconds, the sports mats beneath Yuya and Yuzu’s feet transformed into lush grass spotted with small trees, shrubs, and warmly coloured flowers. The transformation could only spread as far as the walls, but projected simulations of 2d art preserved the illusion of an infinite plain.

Anything that wasn’t grass was blue skies filled with fluffy clouds. More clouds wisped into existence around them and, though they had the texture of cotton candy, they were actually solid enough to stand on. That, along with the action cards that would spawn on them, made jumping from cloud to cloud a viable strategy.

Yuya let the sight of the action field settle for a few seconds, then sent Yuzu a small nod. “Duellists locked in battle!”

She nodded back. “Kicking the earth and dancing in the air alongside their monsters!”

“They storm through the field!”

“Behold! This is the newest and greatest evolution of duelling!”

“Action duel!”

With that last battle cry, the action cards scattered and the game was on. Yuya took the first turn and, as planned, his opening hand contained a spell, a trap, and 3 monsters, none of whom were Pendulums. Instead, Timegazer Magician and Odd Eyes Pendulum Dragon were two cards down his deck, meaning he’d draw them on the third and fifth turn, respectively. As for Stargazer Magician, he and Yuzu had both decided not to use him. Everyone would be expecting both magicians, so using Odd Eyes Pendulum Dragon would not only shock the audience, but show that any Pendulum monster could act as a Pendulum scale!

For now, he just normal summoned his Hip Hippo, drinking in the ever-present chant of “Pendulum! Pendulum!”

Yuzu couldn’t Pendulum, but she had the advantage in style. Like Yuya, her best monsters were in her opening hand. Unlike Yuya, her floating, colourful, and adorable Melodious monsters fit right in with Plain Plain! Some could fly, too, allowing Yuzu to dance between clouds and pick up action cards with grace.

Yuya, on the other hand, was left chasing her on a tragically slow hippo. Since he couldn’t catch up to Yuzu, the duel dragged on but, rather than making it boring, the kids anticipation for a Pendulum Summon only burned bigger and brighter! Five escalating skirmishes and one drawn Odd Eyes Pendulum Dragon later,   the chant of “Pendulum! Pendulum!” was at fever pitch.

So, flourishing, Yuya finally set his scales and summoned the rest of his hand. Yuzu boldly met him in battle, using an action card to try and take the edge, but the action card was predetermined and so was the battle.

For the sake of keeping Pendulum nice and shiny, Yuya won.

*****

All in all, it was a pretty solid staged match. Sure, it didn’t beat the rush of drawing the perfect card at the perfect time, but there was no better way to rile up a crowd.

On that note, it worked like a charm.

“Aren’t you scared flying around like that?!”

“How many monsters can you summon at once!?”

“How did you know where all the action cards were?!”

“Do you have to draw your Pendulums?!”

Yuya laughed. “I’m glad to see you all enjoyed it! -but I'm afraid I can’t answer! We have a class coming up on, uuuuh…”

“Adorno.” Yuzu supplied.

“Adoruno!” Yuya finished. “It’s pretty heavy, so I don’t think you’ll enjoy it. If you come tomorrow, though, I’d be happy to say more!”

The kids all groaned. At least ten of them sent pleading looks to their parents. Thankfully, the parents got the message. Yuya couldn’t afford to start spilling what were essentially trade secrets. After offering their thanks and consideration, the families left, taking several application forms with them.

Once they were gone, Yuzu threw herself backwards onto the couch.

“Good duel out there, Yuya.”

“Same to you! The script was spot on and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you pull off a flip that cleanly!”

“Well, I have to do my best for the kids,” she sighed, before groaning. “Am I tired, though!”

“I’m not surprised.” Compared to her, Yuya had been taking a literal hippo-ride in the park. “I just hope you can cool down before this Adoruno hell starts. Do you want some water?”

“It’s Adorno, Yuya -and yes please!”

“Adoruno, Adoruno, what’s the difference?” Yuya muttered, walking off towards the water cooler.

When he got back, Ayu and Futoshi had already hopped on the couch next to Yuzu.

“That gave me shivers!” Futoshi squealed.

Ayu, though, was as clever as always. “Was that staged or improvised?”

“Staged,” Yuya admitted, setting the glass down on the table. “Yuzu scripted it. I’m better at improv.”

“You could try to learn more about staged matches, you know! You might like it!”

"Even if I did, it's not as if I'd ever get a good part."

Yuzu frowned, but stayed silent. Feeling the atmosphere start to plummet, Yuya laughed.

“Besides, by that logic, you should pick up ballet again.”

Her expression softened, “...touche.”

Bomb defused.

“Will you do an improv match soon, then?” Ayu pleaded. “I wanna see how Yuzu takes on Pendulums!”

“Don’t see why not!” Yuya laughed. “Seeing their reaction, I’d say we’ve got them hooked. We can tell them it was staged tomorrow, then do a real match.”

Yuzu gaped. “You can’t just break kayfabe like that!”

“Kayfabe’s been broken for a decade!”

“Not  here it hasn’t!”

*****

Once Yuzu'd sworn Yuya into secrecy, the two of them, along with Ayu and Futoshi, attended a theory lesson. Theory lessons, unlike duelling lessons, didn’t deal with things like summoning, stats, or strategies. Instead, they covered the other side of Entertainment Duelling -copyright, fair use, aesthetics, the rest of the stuff, et cetera.

Most of that was way too heavy for kids so, unlike what Yuya had told the parents, they didn’t start until Ayu and Futoshi had gone home. In Yuya’s opinion, the fact that Mr Hiiragi spared the children strongly supported his theory that inflicting philosophy on people was a form of assault.

“Adorno was a musical analyst, critical theorist and sociologist, Yuya.”

“Those are all basically philosophy.”

Now, Yuya respected Mr Hiiragi, he really, really did, but no force on the planet could make him care about theory lessons. Even if he didn’t fall asleep, his mind would wander like a lost puppy looking for its mother -where the puppy was Yuya’s attention and the mother was any even slightly interesting thought.

The class on Adoruno was no different. Words went in one ear, turned to mush somewhere in the middle, then went out the other end as gibberish. Yuya didn’t have a hope of getting it, so he tried to get the past 24 hours, instead.

Yesterday, he’d had an ‘episode’. During it, he’d defeated Strong Ishijima.

Thing was, Yuya could normally remember his episodes. Realising he couldn't recall a thing from this one had made his blood freeze -after all, if Yuya hadn’t been talking, drawing, and duelling, then who had been?

(If he was more optimistic, he might have assumed that he’d been possessed by the spirit of an ancient hero king. Despite all his smiles on the field, though, Yuya wasn’t particularly optimistic.)

When he did regain consciousness, Yuya’d only gotten a second to grapple with his teeny tiny case of amnesia before he was swarmed by reporters, audience members and duellists alike. All of them were eager to learn about this entirely new summoning method he’d apparently pulled from thin air, but Yuya had no answers for them. The most he could do was send them to his least favourite group of people and run.

It had been hard not to panic on the car ride back. Realistically, Yuya knew he couldn’t run forever. Eventually, people would come for answers he just didn’t have and, when they did, how long would it take for them to realise just how much was wrong with him?

The thought alone was enough to send Yuya spiralling. Being forced into an awful conversation with his mum had not helped.

“Have you been keeping up with your journaling?” She’d asked.

If Yuya hadn’t been dreading it, he’d probably have been caught off guard. “Yes.”

“And your relaxation exercises?”

“-And the rationalisation exercises,” he finished bluntly. “Yeah, I’m keeping up with them.”

His mum frowned and Yuya immediately regretted how cold he'd been.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she sighed, before squeezing his hand. “Are you sure you don’t want to start counselling?”

“Yes.”

“There’s nothing you aren’t telling me?”

“Yes,” he lied, sending her his most reassuring smile. “To be honest, I’m just mega tired. I was really giving Ishijima the runaround, right?”

It was hard to ignore the hole Mum’s smile dug into his chest.

“Go have a nap, then. I’ll call you down for dinner soon.”

Nodding, Yuya faked a yawn and waddled upstairs.

The moment he was inside his room, he collapsed onto his bed and curled into a ball.

Somehow, I don’t think this is what I was supposed to be using my training at You Show for.  

Not to mention, he’d just piled even more onto his plate! If Mum found out he’d hidden his amnesia from her, they’d be having another conversation very soon -and she’d be a lot less gentle the second time.

Finding answers was more important than ever. Since Yuya's stomach was flipping way too much for him to ever get to sleep, he spent every second before and after dinner doing just that.

*****

By 1 am, Yuya had pieced together the duel from streams, videos, and snippets online. Seeing it for the first time was a rollercoaster.

Pendulum Summoning was both the star of the duel and Yuya’s biggest problem. Yuya knew he wouldn’t last a day before being asked about it, so he had to figure them out fast. With no other choice, he’d snuck into You Show at 1 am and spent the next 4 hours learning how to Pendulum Summon ten times in a row. The process left him dead tired, ragged from hours of summoning attempts, and with a giant chasm in his chest where that small hole his mum had smiled in used to be.

As he finally sagged onto the couch for what he thought would be a short nap, the only thing on his mind was how little he wanted anything like this to happen ever again.

Then he’d gone to school the next morning and, for the first time in 3 years, people weren’t calling him a coward or ignoring his existence. His locker hadn’t been vandalised, his desk hadn’t been touched, and You Show - the duel school he’d destroyed just by being there - was finally seeing business again!

Yuya wasn’t an idiot.

This all happened because he won back then.

This all happened because he lost consciousness back then.

Would he really be upset if it happened again?

*****

For the first time in years, Yuya was looking forward to a day at school. Meeting the morning on a full night’s sleep totally beat heading in on just two hours and, since any questions to be asked about Pendulums had been asked yesterday morning, he wasn’t likely to be mobbed on the way in. Sure enough, when he walked in with Yuzu, he wasn't excluded or the centre of attention, just an easy balance between them he could see himself getting used to.

Sadly, going through class reminded him that, even with all these changes, there was still plenty of boredom to suffer through at school. Knowing that they were having a party at You Show to welcome any new arrivals, though, meant that even long division couldn’t kill Yuya’s excitement that day.

The party was at 4 pm and would take up the duelling timeslot, Yuya and Yuzu were bringing every snack they could carry, and Gongenzaka had promised to find time to come. At 5, they’d show the kids a Pendulum Summon, then get to their usual classes.

Yuya could already feel the sugar rush as he waited for Yuzu and Gongenzaka by the school's front gate. Rather than his friends, though, he received a message on his duel disk. Frowning, he switched it on, pressed his thumb to the screen to unlock it, and turned it to communication mode.

3:40 Yooz: Sorry for the wait, I forgot to mention that Gongenzaka called me to You Show early. I’m afraid I went on ahead and will have to meet you there.

Will you be okay on your own?

3:41 Yooting Star: ive been going there since i was 5 yooz

3:41 Yooting Star: thanks for worrying though!

3:41 Yooz: Why do you always call me Yooz when we’re online? Stop calling me Yooz!

3:42 Yooting Star: its the lack of consequences

Grinning, Yuya switched back to duel mode before Yuzu could send him a furious rant and set off towards You Show. While it would have been nice to walk together with Yuzu and Gongenzaka for once, he was too happy to be torn up about it.

When he arrived, a sight beyond understanding awaited him. There, right in front of You Show’s shiny glass doors, a very ‘deer in the headlights’ looking Yuzu was crouching with not one, but two whole baskets of hand-shredded paper at her feet. She was shovelling a third basket into the bin, which had been tipped over horizontally for easier... feeding?

Yuya stared. “Do you…need help with that?”

“I’m fine.” She replied, face reddening. Before his eyes, she pulled a sizeable stack of papers from behind her and started tearing them into tiny pieces.

“Is something wrong with the paper shredder?”

“It’s working overtime.”

“It’s what? Why do we have so much paper trash?! Has your dad actually been money laundering this whole time and you need to hide the evidence?”

“Not funny.” Yuzu grumbled. “It’s just offensive! I wouldn’t want any kids to find it.”

“Oh?” Now Yuya was getting curious. Shuffling up, he tried to sneak a closer look at the stack of papers behind her.

The most he saw was that they were one-sided. Before he could learn anything else, Yuzu snatched them up and scrambled back, holding the papers tightly against her chest.

Unluckily for her, Gongenzaka chose that same moment to lumber out of You Show’s automatic doors with his own shredded paper basket.

It felt a lot like watching a train crash. Yuzu’s eyes widened as she tipped backwards. Behind her, Gongenzaka stiffened but, true to his training, his reflexes were lightning fast, allowing him to catch her before she slammed into his chest.

Sadly, no amount of martial arts training could give Gongenzaka a third arm. Unable to catch Yuzu and hold the basket at the same time, Gongenzaka prioritised his friend, sending his trash basket toppling to the ground bottom over top. Shredded paper flew every which way, catching on the wind and drifting down like flakes of fresh snow.

Most importantly, though, Yuzu lost hold of a single, crucial piece of paper, which drifted to the ground face-down near Yuya’s feet.

Sensing a golden opportunity, Yuya grinned and snatched up the paper, flipping it over.

“Yuya, don’t-”

 8 YEARS AGO, YUYA SAKAKI WAS INVOLVED IN A SERIOUS FIGHT.

 IN THE PROCESS, A CHILD WAS STABBED.

Yuya’s smile disappeared.

 AS A MINOR, NO PUNISHMENT OCCURRED AND HIS FATHER, YUSHO SAKAKI, MADE SURE NO ONE WOULD EVER KNOW.

 THOSE IN YOU SHOW DUEL SCHOOL MAY HAVE FORGOTTEN, BUT YOU SHOULD NOT.

*****

Just like that, Yuya could see the whole story play out.

It’s 2 pm, Sato watches Mr Hiiragi step into You Show Duel School and, knowing that Mr Hiiragi won’t leave until 8 tonight, plasters fliers on every inch of the front wall. They finish before 3 and return home.

At 3:15, both primary school and middle school end for the day. Yuya and Yuzu plan to wait for Gongenzaka so they don't reach You Show in time. As a result, a full line’s worth of elementary schoolers is driven to You Show Duel School by their parents and confronted with a wall of exposés.

Believing easily that Yusho would twist the law, all those parents decide they can’t trust Yuya around their kids. Ignoring how much their kids “want to see more Pendulums!” they drag them back into the car and find another school to enroll in.

Only after they’re gone does Gongenzaka run by You Show on his way to Maiami middle school. Seeing the wall of flyers, he calls Yuzu ahead to help him take them down and shred them.

Of course, the damage is already done by then.

The only one they’re protecting is Yuya.

*****

Yuya felt numb as he collapsed onto You Show’s back room couch. Even the nausea ripping through him felt muted.

Behind him, he heard the paper shredder start up as Yuzu dealt with the last of the flyers. Even if she shredded them to nothing, though, Yuya would never be able to forget. Those huge black letters had carved themselves into his mind.

 You really thought things would get better, didn’t you?  

He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. Even if he showed his bravery, even if he showed Entertainment Duelling’s strength, that only meant he’d be forgiven for his ‘father’s actions’.

That people got hurt when he lost control was  his problem. If he was really just going to forget that, lay back, and lose control for some cheap wins, then maybe he needed this reminder of how wrong he really was.

I don't belong here.

Eventually, the electronic whir of the paper shredder went silent. Finished, Yuzu came back to lay a bag of snacks on the table.

“Me and Gongenzaka have to take care of Ayu and Futoshi,” she said gently. “Don’t come with until you’re feeling better, okay?”

Yuya nodded.

She smiled, but there was pain in it. “Everything will be alright.”

Then, with one last squeeze of his shoulder, Yuzu turned and left.

Yuya stared after her. He wanted to thank her, but his throat was completely blocked. In the end, he could only watch as she disappeared into the next room.

Left alone, it wasn’t long before the ticking of the clocks became maddeningly loud. Yuya tried to count the ticks, willing to focus on anything to lift this haze in his head, but he never made it past 100.

It was a relief when Mr Hiiragi finally walked in and took a seat across from Yuya.

“Sato broke the gag order.”

His tone made it clear there’d be consequences. Yuya’s throat finally opened up.

“-Don’t press charges.”

Mr Hiiragi’s eyes widened, then softened. Even Yuya was surprised.

 You can’t thank Yuzu, but you can say this?

“You don’t have to forgive him, you know.”

“Then he doesn’t have to forgive me! I- I just-" he trailed off. I just wish it didn’t affect you guys.

Mr Hiiragi read him like a book. “It isn’t your fault.”

“Yes it is,” he said bluntly, before choking out a laugh. “It’s okay, you know. You’ve done so much for me. If you let me go, I’m fine with it.”

“There’s not a chance in hell.”

“Why not!? I’m ruining everything!”

“You think a little money trouble would make me abandon you?!”

“I think the fact that I hurt-”

“You were six and it was an  accident !” Mr Hiiragi interrupted. “You’re allowed to make mistakes as a six year old without them defining you for the rest of your life!”

Yuya just stared at the floor, sullen. Seeing it, Mr Hiiragi sighed.

“Ayu and Futoshi saw the flyers, too, you know.”

Yuya’s breath hitched.

“They don’t think any differently of you.” Mr Hiiragi continued, causing Yuya’s head to snap up. “Actually, they were making fun of the other kids for leaving over an obvious smear.”

“How ?!”

“Because they  know  you. To them, you aren’t just ‘Yusho’s son’ or ‘the kid who fought with Sato’, you’re  Yuya  . A kid who made a mistake once, then  never hurt anyone ever again. Sure, most people don’t know you like Ayu and Futoshi do, but that’s not forever. One day, you’ll be an amazing duellist just like your father. Then,  everyone will see you for who you are.” Mr Hiiragi grinned. “At that point, you’ll be raking in tonnes of cash! Just thinking about it has my blood boiling, so there’s no way I’m throwing you out.”

Hearing it, Yuya’s eyes burned. He pulled his goggles down to cover the tears.

“I-”

What could he even say to that? Half of him was already screaming that the compliments were too good to be true and Mr Hiiragi was just lying to him. The other half didn’t want to accuse Mr Hiiragi of lying. Not when his expression seemed so honest and warm. Not when even the little joke at the end had meaning.

 “You don’t ruin everything you touch. One day, you’ll make it all up to us.”

“-I’m so sorry.”

“The right thing to say is ‘thank you,’ Yuya. Now, I want you to take as much time as you need in here but, after that, come to the classroom. Trust me.”

*****

This time, the clocks didn’t seem so loud. Mr Hiiragi’s words echoed in Yuya’s head, giving him the strength he needed to finally pull open a packet of melon bread and eat something.

As he chewed on it, Yuya realised for the millionth time that he loved them. You Show, Yuzu, Mr Hiiragi, Gongenzaka, Mum, Ayu and Futoshi - he loved them more than anything else in the world.

He didn’t want them to regret loving him back.

When I’m a legendary entertainment duellist, he decided, I’m gonna make them billions of yen. We’re gonna be so rich we can buy out the LDS building, but we’ll still be teaching because duelling is the best. Kids will flock over in droves and I’ll inspire them just like Dad inspired me.

Until that happens, I won’t lose control and hurt anyone ever again.

Yuya repeated the promise again and again, painting over the black letters on his heart. By the time he swallowed the last bit of melon bread, he was finally ready to step inside the classroom.

The instant he did, class concluded. Ayu, Futoshi and Yuzu threw their notes to the side, shooting over and talking up a storm next to him. Gongenzaka sent him a happy nod from his place on the other side of the room, while Mr Hiiragi just smiled and shut off the projector.

“Finally! It’s time for Tatsuya’s welcome party!”

The name ‘Tatsuya’ made Yuya’s heart skip a beat. Shocked, he scanned the rest of the classroom, finally settling on a familiar pair of grey eyes and blue hair.

It was Tatsuya Yamashiro, the kid who Yuya’d tried to cheer up with his funny face the day this all started, and a kid who he assumed would definitely not choose You Show.

But in spite of everything, he had. Somewhere, somehow, Yuya hadn’t ruined everything.

The small victory felt like a thread of hope. Smiling, Yuya knelt down and offered his hand.

“Welcome to You Show duel school, Tatsuya!”

[diosmio76]

What I Deserve | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.

Pairing: Reader x Dark!Bucky

WARNINGS: kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, gun mention (???), stalking, eventual dub-con, eventual non-con (maybe, I'll update when I know), 18+

Word Count: 1,235

A/N: Yes, a kidnapping story! A weak genre for me but let’s see. Also, idk assassin/military jargon there's only a little bit at the beginning I promise

Bucky pulled away from the scope and widened his eyes, chancing a look away from the building that he’d been watching all night. He looked down at the street noticing the occasional person walk by, no one was out at this time- let alone this late during the week. They’d been observing this target for the past month, he didn’t know the specifics of why they wanted him taken out and he didn’t really care. He’s good at what he does and he enjoys the solitude of the job for the most part.

He heard static and then Sams’s voice, an annoyed look painting his face as he heard him talk. It wasn’t that he hated the guy but he wasn’t used to checking in with a partner.

“You see any movement yet?”

He rolled his shoulders and neck before returning his position, shutting his left eye and pressing his right eye against the scope.

“No, haven’t seen anything for a while now- you sure this is the right time?” Bucky asked as he unsuccessfully tried to hide the boredom in his voice.

“Yeah, I checked a few times before we came, this is the only chance we’ll get this week. We saw the guy walk into the building and I hear movement in there. The fuck are you doing over there, sleeping?” Sam asked before continuing. “Look man, the sooner we kill him the sooner we can move on. Then you can go ba-”

Bucky stopped listening to his partner’s rant as he noticed the blinds open to the left of him. At first, he thought it was their target but remembered the floor plans of the room, he then noticed the silhouette of a woman in the window. She cracked the window open slightly before turning around. Before getting the chance to continue his observation he heard Sam in his ear.

“Alright, you should be getting a clear shot soon.”

“Roger” Bucky replied as he refocused his attention to his target. Readjusting his right finger on the trigger, using his left as a stabilizer. He followed his target, making sure he had a clear shot, before exhaling and taking the shot. He waited a few moments after and noticed no movement inside.

“Shot was taken, no movement detected on my end” Bucky radioed as his gaze moved towards the apartment with the open window as he waited for a response.

“Roger, All clear on my end. I’ll see you in the car”

Bucky began packing up, eyes zoned out in the direction of the apartment. He began wondering to himself if this mission was so boring to him that it turned him into a peeping tom, he didn’t even get a clear view of who was in there so why was it of so much interest to him? He let out a breath as he considered asking for a case that would let him travel somewhere else. Before he knew it he was placing his duffle in the trunk and got into the passenger side, shooting a quick look at Sam.

“I hate when you drive, makes me nauseous” Bucky replied in response to the face Sam was making towards him. He turned his head to look out the window.

“I get us there quicker than you do old man. Plus, you’re an assassin, I’m sure you can handle a little motion sickness” he quipped before speeding out of the parking lot.

Bucky scoffed before his mind drifted back to the woman in the window. He decided that he would return alone.

~~~

That next night he returned to his spot, this time focusing his attention on the woman’s apartment. He had free time after their mission, so he found himself sat here almost every day. When he wasn’t watching her from the roof, he was carefully following her.

On his first night he was able to get a clearer view of her, and while a part of him worried that he was peeping at an old lady at first, he was pleasantly surprised that that wasn’t the case. He noticed a few things about her these past few weeks, writing his observations in a small notebook as he did with most of his targets. But for her the notes were different. He wrote down everything she did and stuff that he imagined her doing- mainly stuff she could do to him.

He never thought of himself as someone with a partner, sure he used to imagine a domestic life and going home to the same lady every night but he never thought of that anymore. If he really wanted to he would call Ruby, she never asked questions and always knew to take her money and leave afterward. But the more he watched her, the more he considered his options.

Her routine rarely deviated. She woke up at 6 am and did some half-assed stretches. After that she would go to the bathroom, rarely shutting her door. He kind of liked that- he wanted to remember that when he took her. Then she would sit at her vanity and do her make-up. This was his favorite part, that concentrated look on her face as she did her routine. Mostly he liked that zoned out look in her eyes. That was a look he often referred to when he was alone. Then she would get dressed and leave for work, some corporate job that made a person feel empty. She would finish up a little after 5 and go straight home. Always the same route. As soon as she got home she would change, he noticed that she never wore pants. That would work fine for him, fewer clothes to get her- not that she’d be given that luxury anyway. For dinner she would eat as she cooked, looking uninterested at the finished product while she watched tv or scrolled on her phone. By 11 she would be in bed, but wouldn’t go to sleep till 3 or 4. It surprised him the first time he watched her at night, face lit up by the screen and one hand under the comforter but then he noticed the movement. Her comforter slowly moving up and down as her eyes screwed shut. Sometimes he would join her, imagining that it was him making her eyebrows furrow instead of her hand. She did that a lot, it made him chuckle. After that, she would toss and turn around the bed. He made a note in his journal to buy some sleeping pills for her. But she would be perfect because she was alone. On weekends, if she went out, it would only be to buy groceries or go to a store. She never stopped and only went where she needed to go. She never had anyone over and rarely went out with friends. It would be easier for her to acclimate to isolation.

Bucky decided he had all the information he needed about her. He went as far as following her, not that she’d noticed. He even allowed himself to be less careful. Once he even got close enough to smell her perfume- vanilla, flowers, and a hint of coffee. He assumed on his observation but up close confirmed that her personality was mousey- shy, awkward, and rarely noticed by anyone. He found himself grinning when he realized this. It was perfect, you were perfect.

[ezzydean]

“ you were always my maybe, ya know? ‘maybe they’d finally ask me out.’ ‘maybe when i wasn’t the one looking, they were noticing me too.’ i know it’s silly, but. you were always in the back of my mind. ” - Stiles & Jackson

“Okay,” Jackson says as he strolls into Peter’s apartment.  “This has gone on long enough.”  Stiles freezes with a peanut butter cookie halfway into his mouth and then hastily shoves it, and two more, into his mouth.  “What the hell, Stilinski?”

He has to wait for Stiles to finish chewing the wad of cookies in his mouth so he can respond without spraying the crumbs across Peter’s kitchen island and he takes the time to assess the conflicting mass of scents he’s getting from Stiles.  There’s a smidge of guilt, one that’s kind of always there ever since the Nogitsune happened so the wolves all just tend to let that one go.  It’s almost a baseline anymore, along with being tired and trying to get his ADHD under control with medication, and as strange as it sounds there’s a comfort in knowing it’s there.  Over the base guilt is the sharp spike of guilt that came along with the surprise in his scent when Jackson opened the door, most likely the same guilt that for whatever reason made Stiles jam three cookies into his mouth at once.  There’s the general scent of male and teenager and pack that soothes Jackson’s nerves even as the scent of teenager and hormones and arousal makes his skin itch.

Overall he just smells like Stiles.  Like he’s always smelled ever since Jackson managed to tame the lizard part of his shifting enough to realize that not everyone was an enemy.

“What’s up, Jackson?”  Stiles wipes his mouth on his sleeve and Jackson doesn’t even try to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

“Classy.”

“Shut up.”  Stiles shifts back and forth a few times and Jackson’s nose twitches as Stiles’ scent turns nervous.  A sour kind of nervous.  Like waiting for test results or hearing that an officer got hurt on duty and he hasn’t heard from his dad that day.  “What did you want?  Or need?  Or whatever?”

Before Stiles can start rambling about whatever comes to mind — most likely the history of cookies or a specific recipe that Stiles found for the cookies he’s eating after he had originally been looking for information on rugarus or something — Jackson leans against the island opposite from Stiles and lets out a breath.

“This has gone on long enough.”

Stiles laughs nervously.  “What has?  Me eating cookies alone in Peter’s apartment?”

“You avoiding me.  You hiding away in Peter’s apartment.  You pretending that we haven’t spent literal hours talking to each other on the phone when we can’t sleep.  You sending me to voicemail instead of answering.” Stiles’ eyes are growing wider with each sentence out of his mouth and this wasn’t quite the way he had planned on this going but now that he’s started talking Jackson can’t seem to make himself stop.  “You suddenly acting like you’re not the closest thing to a best friend I have anymore.”  He takes a deep breath.   “And me acting like it’s not killing me to lose you.”

Stiles just stares at him, so still that if it wasn’t for the fact Jackson can hear his heart beating wildly in his chest he would think Stiles had been turned to stone or something.  He has no idea what to do now.  Whatever he had planned on saying, whatever he had planned on doing once he opened the door, it’s all lost now.  Buried under the pile of words he’d just dropped to the ground at Stiles’ feet.

“I don’t know when it happened for sure.  I never imagined the day that you lured me into the back of your jeep under the pretense we were all going out for Thai food so you could actually break in here that I would be here some day.  That I would feel better when I could see you.  That your scent would bring me more comfort than my favorite food.  That knowing you — and Boyd and Erica and Peter but you especially — were okay would be the most important thing on my mind in a fight.  But it happened.  It happened and you’re the cause of it and the fact you’re also the one pulling all of that out of my hands is… I can’t even describe it.  But it sucks so much.”

Stiles licks his lips and takes a few breaths, eyes darting around like there might be something in the apartment to use as a distraction.  But then his shoulders drop and he leans heavily against the island and meets Jackson’s gaze.

“I was in love with Lydia forever.  Everyone knows that.”  He has no idea where this is going but he nods because everyone did know that.  Stiles did not make it a secret at all.  “I teased and poked and flirted with Danny.  Even though I knew it would never go anywhere.  Even if I was attractive to gay men he made it clear I wasn’t attractive to him.  Which is fine.  I dated Malia for a bit.  Even managed to go out a couple times with Lydia.  You know all of this.”  He nods again.  “But through all of that you were there.  You’ve been an asshole.  A jerk.  A typical high school bully.  But you’ve also saved my ass more times than I can count.  You’ve talked me down from panic attacks and helped me rewrite my college essays when my computer crashed and I lost them all the day before they were due.  So no matter who else I might have looked at you were there.  And, well.”  Stiles takes a deep, deep breath and lets it out so slowly it feels like time stops.  “You were always my maybe, you know?  Like.  Maybe he’ll finally ask me out.  Maybe when I wasn’t busy looking at him, he was finally noticing me.  Just.  Yeah.  I know it’s silly but it was you.  You were always in the back of my mind.”

“So what’s with all of this?” he asks when he finally processes all of Stiles’ words.  “What’s with the wallowing and pouting and acting like talking to me physically pains you?”

“Because it does!  Knowing that I’m talking to my best friend and he’s never going to be anything but my best friend sucks so much because I love you!”

“Yeah, so?  I love you too, idiot!  Why do you think it’s pissing me off so much that you’ve stopped talking to me?”

Stiles stares at him, eyes wide, and Jackson takes a deep breath and can’t help but notice the sharp scent of nervousness.  Not the sickly sour smell that makes his wolf want to curl around Stiles and protect him but the sharp sweet one that makes him think of things like Stiles managing to sneak off with Peter’s keys and copy them in secret and Erica showing up with Stiles’ favorite brownies and the smile on his face when Sheriff Stilinski claps any of them on the shoulder and tells them he’s proud of them for something.

“You love me?”

Jackson shakes his head.  “Of course I love you,” he sighs.  “I wouldn’t put up with so much of your shit if I didn’t, Stilinski.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not exactly the poster child of normal, healthy emotions, Whittemore, so shut up and come over here and kiss me or something.”

“Sorry, man.  I don’t kiss my friends.”  Stiles narrows his eyes at Jackson.  “I’ll only kiss my girlfriend.  Or boyfriend.”

“Then get your ass over here, boyfriend, and kiss me.”

“You asking me on a date, Stilinski?”

“I’m asking you on all the dates, Whittemore.  From now ‘til forever and all that shit.”

Jackson slides around the island and pulls Stiles into his arms.  “I think I can handle that,” he whispers as Stiles’ eyes flutter shut.

“Good,” Stiles whispers back.

The Invaders (6 new messages)

Peter: [IMG] Peter: Can someone tell me why Stiles and Jackson are in my kitchen making out? Peter: Why does my apartment have to smell like teenage hormones all the time? Erica: !!!!!! GO STILES!!!! Erica: hey at least if it smells like teenage hormones it doesn’t smell like teenage angst Vernon: For Now.

[volleyball-dontknowher]

Sick - Tanaka x reader

Warnings: none

Words: 2282 

Summary: You and your neighbor walk your dogs at the same everyday, but what happens when he stops showing up 

A/n :! I am so so so so sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth, college is hard man and then it’s partially online and COVID and things and the depression really hit and I have started a new self care book and it is adding one thing back in my life at a time that I am passionate about and last week was French and this week it is writing because I really do miss it! I threw this together last night based off of a request I got forever ago and I hope it is liked <3 

You’ve lived in the same apartment for years and people always come and go, in and out, it feels like you see a new face everyday. In your three years there, you’ve only had one consistent fact, and that’s your bald neighbor who goes on walks with his dogs at the same time as you twice a day. At first you only saw him occasionally and now the two of you go out at 7:30 am and 6:30 pm on the dot. You have no idea how it started but now you get kinda excited to run into your neighbor on the stairs everyday and hopefully make a comment about how good his two big dogs are looking or even jsut the smallest acknowledgement with him.

   Speaking of your neighbor, he wasn’t out this morning before work, and you didn’t think too much of it because he works kinda funny hours and some random days misses the times. (Though he always tells you about it in the afternoon or the next time you see him) and because you’ve learned he’s a personal trainer he has finicky clients and sometimes is up wayy too early or way too late. It bugged you all day that you hadn’t seen him and no matter how hard you tried to focus at work you couldn’t imagine why he wasn’t out on a Wednesday. All of your explainations could make sense but you really don’t feel right about any of it. And when you got home and took your two babies out and he wasn’t there you were sure something was up. Tanaka loved his dogs more than anything and says that their routine keeps them together and that it keeps them well behaved. Something had to be wrong. Maybe he got a new girlfriend? Or he forgot? But he didn't forget and he hasn’t been with anyone ever, and if he was his dogs would still come first. You had no idea what you were thinking but when you came back up the stairs you kept walking and knocked on the door of the man you knew so completely and not at all. You quickly realized what you’d done and your heart was racing as you silent prayed that no one was home and that you could creep back to your door before anyone heard you.

   This was a great thought, except you forgot what happens when you knock with dogs. They bark. And unfortunately for you Tanaka doesn’t get a lot of guests so his dogs barked a lot. Like they could wake the entire neighborhood a lot. You had to grin and bear it and face the consequences of your irrational actions.

   After thirty or so seconds the door creeps open and there he is, Takana Ryuunosuke, in his pajamas and a beanie opening the door. He looked like a walking corpse and by the way he sniffed out a weak “hello” as he opened the door told you everything you needed to know. He was sick. Very sick, and you had just knocked at the door and now have to figure out what to say to him.

   “Oh, hey,” you stutter, “I was just checking on you to see if everything was alright, you weren’t out with your dogs and I was wondering if anything was up, or if you needed me to take them out for you because of their routine and everything,” you ramble on, hoping that somewhere your logic connected and this made sense.

   Takana stared at you blankly and you couldn’t help but mentally smack yourself because that was exactly what a stalker would say and you now seemed like his stalker.

   After a few more seconds of blank stares his expression caught up to your words and he broke out the goofy smile you love so much.

   “My dogs? Walk them?” He asked. Maybe they hadn’t caught up after all.

   “Well yeah, they weren’t out at their regular time and i wanted to make sure they were still going out and I have my two out and they are so well behaved and you clearly don’t feel well so it would really be no problem,” you rambled on again.

This time he was closely listening and nodded along with you before smiling once again. “No no no,” he chuckled, “ I can take them out” though he was laughing you could hear that he wasn’t feeling well and his energy was lower than you had ever heard.

   “Let me do this one favor for you, I can take them out, no big deal, okay?” You smiled.

   After you smiled it was a done deal for Tanaka, he grabbed the leash and thanked you about a hundred times. His dogs are fantastic and took you less than five minutes to walk before they’d used the restroom and were ready to go back inside. You took them back and he thanked you once again and you headed back to your apartment to make some dinner.

   You settled on a sun dried tomato soup with grilled cheese and happened *wink* accidentally *wink* make more than you could eat on your own and you’d hate for it to go to waste and you do have a neighbor who is sick and could probably use a hot meal right about now. So, you packed up a container for him and wrapped the sandwich in aluminum foil so that it would be hot for him and put some tea in a thermos and headed out your door once more. This time though, you were a little less bold and just rang the doorbell and ran back to your room. You did however, leave a little note saying “hope you feel better soon - room 420” on it and you hoped that it would at least help his night a little bit.

   Little do you know, Tanaka was so shocked to see this from you that he almost dropped the hot soup onto himself in a panic because this not only meant you paid attention to him but you cared for him. This was the best thing to ever happen to him. He finished every last bite and washed the container and thermos and placed them back by your door with a note of his own.

   When you got up the next morning and went to take your dog out you couldn’t help but beam when you saw your tupperware back in front of your door. You picked up the two items before seeing the little note on top of the container.

‘Best Soup Ever! -Room 419’

You beamed and did a little happy dance before deciding to go knock and see if he needed your help with his dogs again today, and boy are you lucky that you went. WHen he opened the door he somehow looked worse than yesterday, you could have swore that he had snot dried to his face and he was a total mouth breather and the bags under his eyes as well as tripled overnight. There were no arguments when you asked if he needed help with his dogs, because truthfully he really did.

   The walk was quick and the morning was over before you knew it. Another distracted day at work, you found yourself wondering how you could help him feel better, especially because he lived all alone and his closest family was something like an hour away last he told you.

You had a brilliant idea and decided to go to the store after work and make him a ‘get well’ basket. You filled the basket with cough drops, tissues, teas, chocolates and other little goodies that help him feel better and put him in a better mood. You got the groceries and were right on your way, practically skipping with excitement.

   Once again, you accidentally made an extra soup after you’d taken care of the dogs and happened to leave it with the basket later that evening.

   In the morning however, none of your dishes were by your door, which was no big deal, especially because he was feeling so under the weather, but what was even more strange is that he didn’t answer the door and the last thing you wanted to do was wake him up. So, you headed to work wondering if he liked what you did for him or if you’d crossed a line or if he was allergic to chicken noodle, or if he was too much of a health nut and you’d offended him, or if he’d… you had no idea, maybe died. This was not good for you and you could feel the stress starting to get to you when you got off work the sprint back home was exhausting and anxious. You rounded the corner of the stairs when you saw

Nothing.

You saw nothing.

That was fine, everything is fine. You are fine. Life is fine. If he doesn’t feel good you can’t expect him to do dishes or even leave his room. That’s best for everyone, no one wants a walking germ contaminating everything around, there were probably old ladies on this floor, you hadn’t seen any, but they were there, probably, so he was just doing the world a favor.

Again, he didnt answer the door for his dogs and you couldn’t force your kindness onto him so you had a night to yourself and went to bed way earlier than usual. You couldn’t help but wake up earlier than usual and instead of looking for things that weren’t there you got out and went to work early and got busy right away. You had a full day and worked until almost 8pm, hurrying back to hopefully get home before your local take away had closed. You made it, but just barely, and got your favorite meal to bring home with you to watch something horrible with.

   You got home and plopped on the couch completely exhausted. Immediatley you started eating and got about halfway through when you heard a knock at the door. Oh shit. You had no one in your life that would ever knock, well almost no one. THere was one person you were really hoping wasn’t on the other side of the door. You were in a t-shirt you got 10 years ago and a pair of crappy shorts from the general store, there was nothing remotely nice, or even tame about your appearance, you looked to be frank, crazy.

You creeped the door open and saw exactly who you were hoping not to see, Tanaka Ryuunosuke standing in front of your door beaming.

   “Hey?” You question nervously.

   “Hey, I noticed that you didn’t take your dogs out earlier and was wondering if you needed me to take them out for you?” He questioned genuinely, smiling from head to toe, clearly feeling better.

   You had no idea what to say or do but he just smiled as your dogs trotted out the door with him, without you saying a word. You awkwardly closed the door and stood there in shock. That was horrible. An embarrassment to you, an embarrassment to your family name and even worse an embarrassment to society. The shock still hadn’t worn off when you heard a second knock at your door, and well that was the man with your dogs and you couldn’t just leave them outside.

   This time when you opened the door you couldn’t help but gasp. Tanaka has a giant bouquet of red roses and a giant blush on his face.

   “Y/n, I know this is going to sound ridiculous, but I have had a crush on you since I first met you, and I never knew how to tell you, every time I got close to you I just freeze and I started taking my dogs out when you do to try and get to know you and I could never make myself do it but you have been unbelievably kind to me and I can’t wait any longer. I want nothing more than to have a chance with someone as stunning as you are. Y/n, will you go on a date with me?”

   This time it was you standing there dumbstruck for longer than you should have. You heard every single one of his words and your heart was fluttering out of your chest. You’d had feelings for him for as long as you can remember and here he was with a bouquet of flowers standing in your doorway asking you to go on a date with him. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything so you just grinned and nodded at him enthusiastically, hoping he understood just how much this means to you.

   He beamed right back and handed you the bouquet of flowers, “perfect, then I’ll see you Friday at 7, I’ll pick you up.” He winked.

You were still dumbstruck and nodded again, and right as you were about to close the door for the night he stuck his foot in the doorway.

“One more thing y/n,” he pushed the door back open and had a basket of little goodies for you, as well as a homemade meal in the containers you’d given him with a little note that says ‘your soup warmed my soul, and my heart’. You couldn’t help but absolutely beam with happiness. You set the basket down and threw your arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a big hug, repeatedly thanking him for his kindness. You two parted ways happier than you could have imagined and both in great anticipation for Friday.

   The next morning, you were both out at 7:30 on the dot, excited to see one another.

[organic-guacamole]

episode 210 here we go

awww seb doing the intro

congratulations to milky white and her baby chocolate milk😌

seb is so funny

but seriously, clean up that milk fast or else it will smell so bad in there....

was that Lauryn just randomly doing cartwheels? idk any theatre kids irl but that seems like it's a common thing...

is it just me or has ms Jenn been getting more harsh to Ricky and Seb mainly-

like what did they do to her

no because I actually snorted with laughter at the "you came back" WHAT IS THAT VOICE-

AND THE MASK OMG

yeah so my throat hurts now

I'm dying over here

KOURTNEY'S FACE

SAME GIRL SAME

Ricky's fake death got the whole place in tears /s

he looks like an asthmatic walrus

Seb's on piano, I love

we all know if he was the beast we'd all actually be crying✋

ok but I listen to Julia's version of home on Spotify when I want to cry-

right so gimme a second

is Ricky scratching his face.....while he's dying?

"belle i-" *flop*

round of applause to Ashlyn for trying to make Ricky's earthworm seizure look less.... yknow

Kourtney's just dying there

WAIT IS THAT NATALIE

did she really just disappear for 9 episodes just to come back and stare dramatically into the camera

WAIT SCRATCH THAT SHES HERE TO MURDER ASHLYN AND RICKY

oh so Ricky's wearing a gay shirt now too

so that's the real reason why Rini broke up, see y'all next season when Gini and caswen become canon /j

wait that was a long intro scene-

what was that look Carlos-

TALK TO MY BOY OR ELSE

carlos' run is so funny to me

therapist Ashlyn to the rescue

"that is...super" son you good?

ms Jenn call Benjamin, he would willingly put his loved ones on a rocket and blast them into Venus for you....

maybe

"I don't want you kids to be disappointed" girl you do realise you're the one that's most invested in this?

"a smooth opening night" wasn't there just 1 show though-

like their opening night was closing night too

"I think I was Troy at one point" PLEASE THATS THE MOST ACCURATE DESCRIPTION OF THE SEASON 1 FINALE

me Jenn looks like a serial killer during that clap and I'm lowkey scared for zacky

"I have notes"

oo if you're taking suggestions, lemme get my list

"mother is freaking out" uhhhhhh

right....'mother"

"is everyone sitting down?"

*looks around awkwardly*

*big red slowly sits*

"no..."

please seb was the only one sitting-

does that mean Carlos looked at Seb as soon as he walked in and assumed that everyone else was sitting too or am I a seblos clown🤡

"is this about the transformation"

WOW MAYBE OT IS RICKY

WOW HES A DETECTIVE FOR FIGURING THAT OUT SO QUICK🤩

YO WHY IS NATALIE HERE-

she just shows up when it's convenient? is she gonna be at the sleepover too?

Seb's heavy swallow after Carlos shouts at him makes me so sad

"I never learned how to lie but I figure if I keep my mouth closed, I can't tell the truth" *nods and smiles at Nini when she asks*

why are they casually standing up all over the pizza shop, just sit at a big table and talk instead of blocking passageways and blocking off at least 6 tables-

"how about I invite myself" WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS FEEL THE NEED TO INVITE THEMSELVES TO ASHLYN'S HOUSE-

YOU CAN ASK BUT JUST FORCE YOUR WAY IN?

so Cash Caswell has a bigger house than... Dennis Caswell.... who would've thought

ah yes there's the good old EJ 1.0

Nini: "boys vs girls"

Gina: *looks devastated and glances longingly at EJ*

way to be inconspicuous

"but north high should be" *cracks her knuckles in the most uncomfortable way*

good for Ashlyn for getting more confident though

oo bossy big red

"i get bossy around the power tools"

is that why Ashlyn was holding up the drill in episode 8 orrrr 🤠

oh

Lily, leave him alone please

she's literally not blinking, is that what makes her creepy?

the diss at big red and his face afterwards is priceless

isn't that similar to what Gina's mom said to her in season 1? hmmmm

but seriously please don't try to redeem lily, let us have a character to hate, or to love because they're evil.

not everyone's a good guy.

"im not liked here and I don't know what to do"

let antoine finish his salad and it'll fix everything

"hug emoji" *gags*

y'all realize Lily's literally 14?

why is she calling a 16/17 year old from another school for personal advice-

"he gets weird around tools"

I shouldn't be laughing so hard

"deja vu maybe?" awkward silence

I'm dying here I love EJ so so so so much

"where's seb"

*cuts to seb being held hostage hoping that they'd notice he's missing and go look for him*

"don't ask"

"oh ok"

"100% real faux fur" as you should queen

sponsored by target

Kourtney is singlehandedly saving the entire show.

Seb making finger guns make me happier than it should

why is this kinda making me want to have a co-ed sleepover with my non-existent theatre friends

YES YOU DO NEED TO TALK/SING TO SEB CARLOS THANK YOU FOR KNOWING THAT

wait what-

you haven't talked to him all WEEK-

Carlos are you stupid /hj

Benjamin is so adorable I can't

he turned around to come back for her instead of going home. you're "what do you want Jenn🙄X act isn't fooling anyone Benjamin 🙃

10101

1+4+16= 21st?

they placed 21st?

or do I just not remember how to convert to base ten

GIRL DON'T BE RUDE TO HIM, HE'S GONNA SAVE YALL

no ms Jenn, the kids are not eccentric 35 year olds.

aww sebby

is he thinking that Carlos is only with him cuz he's the only other openly gay guy at school-

son you are a perfect little bean don't put yourself down

yes they all ship portwell as they should.

they'll be throwing risotto at the wedding.

not the chocolates. stop there are no chocolates. please stop I'm dying.

Gina you don't have to explain yourself to her

it was a misunderstanding and it's in the past

why is Ashlyn still laughing-

exactly it wasn't a big deal please just move on Nini

Kourtney really be out here saving everything

WHY IS ASHLYN STILL LAUGHING

why do I feel like when Gina finally told Ash about it, she didn't think it was that funny but wanted to feel included in the inside joke so now she brings it up randomly to show that she's in on it....I totally don't do that...

"idk, the farmer type" oh son...

Ashlyn and big red are just spilling the secrets back and forth huh?

OOO EJ AND GINA SITTING IN A TREE K-I-S-S-I-

cmon guys don't look at me like that-

"she is the best" and "we're buddies" don't sound right together

"pretty boy" "sweet boy" best ways to describe EJ

I love him.

and aw he's scared of rejection so he'll hold back just to keep her happy and not awkward how sweet

is Ricky wondering if letting her go(literally his song from last episode) was the best thing he did for Nini because he doesn't feel like it now? hmmm this is getting good

why is everyone so invested in Kourtney and Howie's relationship

PACK UP THE LAZY RICKY THING

oh yes Benji, that's exactly what she's doing

she couldn't follow her dream or whatever so now she's using the kids to gain some of the success she craves. why else would she have that massive hsm poster with her name on it in huge letters in her office.

just casually grab his hand with both your hands and stare at him creepily 🥰

ship jennzzara y'all

the first bump was a missed opportunity to do the baymax "falalala" as a reference to the fact that they watched big hero six while committing arson✋

wait so big red and EJ just left Ricky in the basement and now Ricky invited Carlos when they're supposed to be at the stage?

help no Ricky looks like he's about to tell Carlos he likes him (I know it's about writing the song for seb but still, look at his body language and tell me it doesn't look like that)

Ricky is so mature about this, he really just wants Nini to be happy even though he's hurting-

baby you deserve love, maybe Nini isn't the one for you but don't say you don't deserve it

why does he keep adding bro to the end like he doesn't know how to address Carlos

PLEASE CARLOS HAVING TO ADDRESS THE BRO THING

"let's write a song when we have like 45 minutes to get to the place and help our friends possibly win $50000 at the show in 2 weeks"

"can you hit a high C?"

"that's like the bottom of my range"

why am I laughing

this is so cool to see friendship interactions that we don't normally get to see

Nini why are you being like this-

Gina did nothing wrong??

I saw that, EJ and Gina being the only ones going in the same direction👀

right so obviously Kourtney's waiting until after the menkies to get back with Howie just in case he really is just using her as a way in to east high... obviously... right?

CARLOS

OK ITS COMING GET READY YALL

Why is portwell so awkward all of a sudden

OMG EJ

OMG GINA SAY YES or not, do what you want.

the way she doubts that EJ would genuinely ask so she has to make sure it's not Ashlyn behind it

OH

THE "NOT THAT I KNOW OF"

LIKE WHAT GINA SAID TO JACK ABOUT EJ BEING HER BOYFRIEND

GUYS THEY'RE SOULMATES

I want risotto now please

THEY'RE SO SWEET AND ADORABLY AWKWARD ITS LIKEEK LITTLE KIDS

OOOOOOO what is this place that seblos is in, looks fancy....and secluded

oh wait no Ricky's just standing there

wait is it the bomb shelter

it looks so good what

HSKAGSJAGAJAGWISGSKAUASBWKSVAIWBAISBQKSHIQBWOABWOABDOQBZIQBAIAQBSIWBQISVQKSIANSGOQBSAISBKASBKWBAIABQOSBBSJAHAJAVAJSBAJHSKAHSJAHAJAJAAJAHHHHHHHH

@youranxiousnerd ARE YOU OK?

CUZ IM NOT OK

LOOK AT SEBBY'S FACE

LOOK AT HOW ADORABLE IT IS

THE LYRICS ARE KILLING ME

SEBLOS IS KILLING ME

I AM DEAD

PLEASE SEND HELP

I like to imagine that Frankie and Joe practiced this in their apartment and just had a blast with it.

or maybe that Frankie practiced in secret like what Joe did for the climb

OH THE SUITS

THATS WHERE THAT CLIP IN THE PROMO WAS FROM

AWWW SEBBY'S SO CUTE

HE'S A LITTLE MARSHMALLOW

they're still so awkward with the dance I cant

let's appreciate Frankie's voice though

this episode really was made just for the seblos and portwell stans and you gotta love it

BIG RED GET OUT

WHY DOES HE ALWAYS DO THIS

Seb's little "yeah" IS ADORABLE

you can't tell me that wouldn't have been the best time for them to say I love you....IF FREAKIN BIG RED WASN'T THERE

ok but wait Ricky needs more hugs like that, look at his face

the boy needs love

"bro" please don't let Ricky and Carlos go back to not talking because their friendship is amazing

EJ laughing at Ricky sounding like a cat coughing up a furball is so funny to me

RICKY'S FLOP GETS ME EVERYTIME

I knew it was too good to be true

ok so Ricky's dead, next in line please

this episode was so short but I love it so much. this is what I signed up for for season 2✋

[loveinterestcastiel]

erosion

I wrote some endverse fic based on a @lateral-org post asking a FANTASTIC question:

When/why/how did endverse! cas get rid of the trenchcoat and what was dean's reaction?

Rated M. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence. Word Count: 4.1k

tagged some mutuals and people I thought might be interested in this under the cut, if you want tagged in this/future fic or want me to remove your tag dm me!

erosion

Of course, Sam said yes in Detroit. So why dream about that? He lived it every day. The redundancy was irritating at best.

Where the fuck did I leave my boots last night? Cas cursed under his breath and embarked on a thorough search of their cabin, the coarse words warm and familiar on his tongue as he yanked on his socks. I really am starting to sound like Dean.

Dean’s boots were already gone, his gun and thigh holster absent too. He’d left his green jacket behind, tossed carelessly aside last night and hidden under the trenchcoat on the floor at the foot of their bed. He slipped his coat on over his clothes and shoved Dean’s jacket into their pack- he knew he’d want it later, even if it was just for the drive back. He slipped on the worn coat, habit- he’d stopped wasting Grace on its upkeep a while ago, but it was still important. It felt like comfort, in some strange way, so he kept on wearing it despite the worn-through elbows or the stubborn little bloodstained spot on the hem.

He’d dreamed of Detroit, last night, again. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to dreaming, as unsettling and involuntary as it was. It felt like the unfair hijacking of an otherwise enjoyable human bodily function, and he resented it altogether. He snagged a bit of weed from his stash and tucked it in next to his flask, sweeping out the cabin door and into the frigid morning sunshine, giving Chuck a lazy wave as he ambled past his cabin to the truck lot, kicking little pebbles across the packed dirt at imaginary targets with a super-human precision that grated strangely on him today.

“Big run today,” Chuck said with a tentative smile, his hands clasping a chipped mug filled to the brim with his ridiculously indulgent tea, wafting a cascade of steam out over the railing of his cabin porch before dissipating into the air. “Don’t forget the perishables if you can get at them, ok? We’re seriously low on-”

“Toilet paper, milk, cheese, butter,” he interrupted, “plus sugar, flour, canned fruit, hygiene products, toothpaste, toilet paper, coffee, meat if we can get it, .35 and 9mm ammunition, mechanical oil, gasoline, propane, rubbing alcohol, gauze, surgical tape, toilet paper, paracetamol, and oh, toilet paper again!” Cas recited dryly, rolling his eyes. “You gave us a written list yesterday. Twice. Couldn’t fuck up blackout drunk.”

Chuck snorted, shaking his head in self-deprecation. “Just doing my job, Cas.”

“We’ll do ours,” he called over his shoulder, continuing down the central path briskly. “We’ve all got our part to play.”

What was it Lucifer had said to Dean, that night Zachariah stole him out from under Cas’s nose and threw him into the future? No matter what choices you make, whatever details you alter… we will always end up here.

It certainly seemed like he was right. Most days, it seemed like they were all hurtling towards the exact same place Dean had caught a wretched glimpse of, once, with the brakes slashed and emergency failsafes offline, and no indicator that the impossible choices they were making every day were anything but inevitable. He knew that Dean still had nightmares about his ending, but he didn’t know much else about Dean’s nightmares anymore but what little snippets he could garner from what Dean mumbled and cried out in his sleep. He’d lost the ability to dreamwalk a while back. Three nights after the Croatoan virus wiped out Fort Worth and they were forced to fall back, he tried to enter Dean’s sleep to watch his dreams in the dubious refuge of a closed down Motel 6 off of interstate 70 as they ran west, to see if there was some piece of information they’d missed, some new choice they could make one day that could change the path they were on.

It simply hadn’t worked. He mourned the loss of one more skill in the darkness of their room that night as Dean slept uneasily in the bed beside him, one more thing which, in its absence, made him ever more useless to Dean, much like the loss of his ability to time travel, or to smite their enemies with ease. Flight was becoming difficult by the day, and he knew in some part of his mind that his wings would be the next to go, and he would be grounded, permanently, on Earth and not in Heaven.

And so it goes.

Anyway, it wasn’t like they had much of a choice about anything these days. Once Michael had taken Adam, they lost their only trump card. Heaven didn’t need Dean anymore, but Hell desperately needed Sam. It was a shame, it really was, that Sam’s gamble hadn’t paid off.

It was a miracle Lucifer let Dean go. He had brushed him off as a non-threat. Unimportant on a cosmic scale, however important Dean was to the vessel. To Sam. So Dean walked out of that run down building alive, and he was the most beautiful, terrible thing Cas had ever seen. His soul shone brighter than even an archangel’s grace in his rage and trembled with the fierce sharpness of grief, and it was glorious, righteous.

Godly.

Even as Cas’s memories softened and blurred, becoming tinged with a mortal haze, that memory of Dean remained in a sparkling clarity. He could imagine no life, no moldable version of the past, in which he did not choose Dean. From the very first moment his soul had reached back to cling to Cas’s Grace in Hell, Cas had fallen, was falling, would fall, for Dean. It was inevitable, his love. They were inevitable. They fell together in the time after Detroit, into battle, into bed, and into cosmic obscurity. Soon, too soon, their losses began to outnumber their wins, and they had to make more and more certain regrettable sacrifices just to stay alive. Cas was used to collateral damage, far more than Dean was, but whatever the other humans in their ragged camp believed of him, he wasn’t unaffected. Just the opposite, in fact. He had never felt anything before, not for billions of years, an incomprehensible existence of light and intent and obedience and war, and now he felt everything. That- not Dean’s disappointment, or the slow loss of his Grace, or his Father’s unyielding silence- was undoubtedly the worst part of becoming something like human.

Some days were better than others, of course. Some days he took precious little blue or white or green pills, all different shapes and sizes and he felt good. Numb, pleased, far away. Quiet. Others, fewer than the days he had his pills, he took shrooms, LSD. Molly, twice. Often he took nothing at all, craving the wicked pain and emptiness it created in him as his sobriety enhanced the ache his dwindling Grace left behind, needing the punishment to feel real before forcing himself into a tumultuous sleep after days spent horribly awake with half a bottle of rotgut sloshing in his stomach. He still liked joints, rolled meticulously, their verdant smoke curling up deliciously in his lungs and setting him up on a lovely little metaphorical cloud the best, and then, they were even more so lovely when he shared them with Dean. There was nothing, nothing like passing it between them, before transitioning into trading hit after hit between their mouths, brushing against his soft lips, breathing his air, watching Dean’s cheeks flush a stunning pink and holding tight to his deep golden hair, dragging him down into slow, languid kisses that desire deepened and turned into a precious sort of holy consumption as the high hit its stride in them both.

He was sober today, mostly, just riding out the last of some gorgeous pink pill from a nearly full bottle he’d just scavenged out a few days before. It made him feel floaty, focused, fearless. He felt almost like he did two years ago, before his reeducation stint in Heaven. Angelic. It was nice. He’d take another, later. Maybe Dean would want to take one, too, and they could fuck high out under the stars on their quilt again like they did last October and feel like the real Gods of this stupid little planet, on top of the world, on top of Dean, cradled in the soft embrace of his thighs, and worship each other.

Take that, brothers. Castiel smiled viciously at the sky. You’ll never fuck God like I have.

Standing impatiently among their motley caravan of vehicles in the sickly yellow light of a midwestern April morning sun, his back to Cas, Dean’s silhouette and the flashing imprint of his soul- the only one Cas could still see clearly- caramelized into a sweet union of tangible and not that pulled at his stomach and swept him into the siren song of Dean’s being and woke up the hungry creature that lived in his heart and craved DeanDeanDeanDean.

No one else was there yet, probably all still dicking around at the camp mess and drinking shitty chicory. His feet fell silently on the earth, leaving behind the sound of the universe and the vibrant humming of Dean’s soul- and oh, he hoped he could always hear that symphony, even when all the rest of his powers had run dry.

Just as he reached out to take Dean by the shoulder and turn him around, Dean moved with a sudden burst of energy, like a coiled snake striking out. He whirled around and met Cas’s eyes, took him by the neck and the waist, and kissed him. His lips moved with a gentleness that contradicted the intensity of the grip of his cold-fingered hands as they worked their way into his hair, wormed their way under his trenchcoat, and touched the bare skin they found where the hem of his t-shirt met his jeans. He met the kiss eagerly, licking teasingly at the seam of his lips, biting down gently and coaxing Dean into opening his mouth. He pushed Dean back until his back hit the nearest rusted army-green truck with a small thudding noise, pressing himself up against Dean and tugging on his hips so they were pressed flush against each other, the contact sending and electric thrill racing up his spine.

“Cas,” Dean gasped out at the sensation of their bodies meeting, the air punched out of his lungs.

“Mmm, morning,” Cas murmured between kisses. “You’re out here early.” Dean’s neck was uncharacteristically bare above the neck of his rough brown sweater, creamy and invitingly unmarked. Cas indulged in the impulse to change that, working his way over the tender skin, sucking and biting until a bruise began to bloom below the junction of Dean’s jaw and neck, worrying it with his teeth until it was a deep reddish-purple.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dean whispered, letting his head fall back against the truck window, baring his throat further, and closed his eyes. He seemed almost happy, today. He seemed to light up in the lead-up to their more dangerous missions, and Cas didn’t want to think about that right now. Didn’t want to ruin the moment. “Didn’t want to wake you up,” Dean elaborated.

“I appreciate that.” Satisfied with the rather outrageous hickey he’d created on Dean’s neck, Cas pressed it with one last kiss. “How’d you know I was behind you?” he asked, pressing their foreheads together and slowly grinding their hips together lazily, just breathing Dean in.

“Felt you,” Dean said, bringing their lips together again briefly. “Always can.” One more little kiss.

“Dean, last night, when you couldn’t sleep, I dreamed again about Detroit-” Cas started to confess feverishly, almost against his will, Dean stiffening up at his words in his arms, and was interrupted by the sound of people approaching, footsteps, voices, and an earsplitting wolf-whistle directed at their compromising position.

Dean’s face shuttered immediately, and Cas felt every scrap of easy bliss flee his body.

He pulled back with more than a little reluctance, his stomach twisting as a fakely jovial grin tugged at the corners of his lips, and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “Let’s go, fearless leader. We’ve got a mission to run, don’t you know?”

“Don’t start with that fearless leader shit,” Dean said tightly, rolling his eyes away from Castiel’s face and fixing on a point somewhere over Cas’s shoulder. “Who’s driving?”

“Looks like Cas is driving,” Joe called out mischievously.

Risa smacked him in the chest. “Get in the truck, idiot.” She turned her gaze to Dean, an odd glint in her eye. It felt sticky and wrong in his core but Cas stamped the feeling down. “Group brief over the radio on the way?” she asked.

“Yeah, at 8,” Dean said, sliding into his unshakeable militaristic persona with a firm nod. “Should be fairly straightforward in and out supply grab. Intel says the Croats cleared out of Roanoke a couple days ago, left major infrastructure and commerce sites relatively untouched. It’s a good thing too,” he added, “we were getting spread a little thin with most goods.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

———————————————————————

It was not, in fact, easy.

Their intel was wrong, so wrong, and Cas didn’t know how the fuck it happened, but they were fine, they were almost finished, closing up the trucks in the alley behind the supermarket and waiting for Dean and Trish to return from sweeping the perimeter, when out of what seemed like thin air and with no more than a broken shout for warning there were more Croats swarming them than he’d ever seen in one place before, and Joe and Maya and Kris were dead, and Dean was nowhere to be found.

The Croats had the remaining seven pinned down against the main truck, snarling and screeching and reeking of blood and gore, strips of flesh and clothing that once adorned their companions now dangling from their teeth. Their single-minded need for the endless consumption of human flesh and that it was currently being denied drove them to a terrifying frenzy, but the hunters were starting to push back, and the Croat numbers were thinning slowly but surely. Cas thought he saw Allen get bitten, but next he glanced at him he looked fine. He’d need to check on that if they made it out alive. He resigned himself quickly to the idea of killing the man before they got back to Chitaqua- Allen was a nice enough man, quick-witted and skilled with a blade and a loom, but nothing was worth bringing a Croat back to camp. He owed it to the man as a human being to grant him a swift death if he’d been infected before Allen himself could realize it. A shot to the back of the head, unawares, had to be better than a clumsy battle and inevitable stab to the chest (Cas knew he would always have the upper hand against a human, even when he had fallen in full) with fear in his heart.

He buried his angel blade to hilt in yet another Croat’s throat, yanking it out and ducking out of the way of the spray of blood that followed in a well-practiced motion uncanny in its speed. They would win this one.

But still no Dean.

Cas felt a bubbly panic rise up in his chest through the haze of battle as it became clear to him that Dean wasn’t coming back. Even from the other side of the building or from inside, there was no way that Dean had not heard the commotion of such a large fight.

Something was stopping Dean from coming back to him.

“Risa,” he shouted over the din to the woman on his left. “Dean and Trish-”

“I know,” she interjected tersely, hacking the head off of a skeletally thin Croat in a tattered suit. “Retrieval? We’ve got this handled here as long as this all the fucking bastards around.”

“I’m going in,” Cas said quickly, slicing at a particularly bold (stupid) Croat trying to charge him. It crumpled to the ground and twitched once, and was still. Some of its companions fell on the body ravenously, and were subsequently cut down in turn as they began to tear at the corpse. “Leave as soon as you’re able; I’ve got the keys to the main truck. Cover your right,” he warned Risa, and, sensing an opportunity in the parting sea of Croats before him, ran.

He was through the service doors of the building before the Croat hoard could even begin to respond to his escape, and their noises were quickly muffled by the service door as it locked automatically behind him, leaving him in relative quiet.

There were a surprising number of crates and boxes remaining in the storage and unloading zones, either empty or nearly so, and he quickly ascertained the area was, apart from himself, devoid of life or anything of interest to the camp.

Cas.

Dean's sudden prayer hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut.

Aisle... his mental voice trailed off for a second into indistinct sounds, colors, and waves of pain. Aisle seven. It's bad.

Cas shoved through the access door into the freezers, and out into the store with a recklessness he would have been ashamed of had he been so terrified.

He turned down aisle seven and skidded to a halt, frozen at the sight that greeted him, and tried to make sense of the hideously macabre tableau.

Trish's decapitated body lay the furthest from him, her ribcage torn open, her organs spilling over her arms and scattered in pieces over the floor. Three dead Croats, all headshots, around her remains. Then a bloody lake on the cheap linoleum tile, thick and viscous and so, so red, two more dead Croats, clearly more hard-won victories, their arms hacked at, heads partially removed, and nearly blocking the last body from view, wedged up against the shelves and bloody as it was.

"Cas," Dean wheezed, lifting his head laboriously to meet his eyes, blood bubbling up between his lips and staining them. "Cas, I'm so sorry-"

"No, no, don't talk like that," Cas said desperately, kneeling beside Dean. He took their pack of his back with shaking hands and shoved his angel blade somewhere inside. "We can fix this. You'll be okay."

"Cas-"

"You will!" he said, too loudly and startling himself.

"My ribs," Dean panted out in pained little gasps. "Broken. There's something in my back." He twitched minutely as if to show Cas the problem and immediately convulsed involuntarily at the pain the movement caused him, a horrible rattling moan in his throat. "My leg. Right one. Broken too." His jaw was clenched so tightly it was a miracle he could speak at all through the teeth-grinding pain he was in.

"Okay," Cas said faintly.

Cas...

Oh, he hated feeling. Sometimes he thought it made him useless. He missed being cold. Brutal, uncaring about pain or death. But this was Dean, and he'd never actually been particularly good at being a machine, anyway. "Okay. Dean, I need to see your back," he warned him, before moving him as gently as he could and angling his body so that he could get an unobstructed view of his back.

There was a crude metal stake wedged just an inch to the left of his second and third thoracic vertebrae, rusted, twisted and cruel-looking.

"Dean, I- I have to try to heal you," he said slowly, knowing that Dean wouldn't want him to be wasteful with his Grace. But this was beyond what human field medicine could help.

Dean didn't respond. He'd fallen unconscious.

"Oh no, no, no, baby," he babbled under his breath, trying to figure out the best way to extract the bar of metal. "Hold on," he muttered, grasping the stake firmly and bracing Dean's body against his own, trying to avoid fucking his broken ribs up more.

"Father, please, if you're still here, if you're listening, if you care at all," he begged, "help me."

Of course, his Father didn't answer. Gritting his teeth, Cas yanked out the stake and tossed it aside, immediately covering the wound with his hand. He summoned his Grace together and it responded sluggishly, but his hand was glowing and Dean's back was knitting back together.

As the skin merged into a puckered, raw-looking pink scar, Cas dropped his hand away from the wound and found himself utterly breathless, gasping for air and drained.

Dean was still unconscious.

He leaned Dean back up against the shelving and took a moment to figure out what to do next. Dean was still dying. He was still in danger. He couldn't be moved, nor could they stay put. He quickly opened up their pack and realized in horror that all the medical supplies were with Risa and AJ on the trucks and so, so far away by now.

He yanked his coat off with a twinge of regret. It was bloodied and worn and what he was about to do with it felt like a milestone he was loathe to reach.

He shredded it into long, wide strips, not letting himself think of how it was the last piece of Jimmy Novak, or how he had repaid the man's sacrifice by being party to the end of the world they both wanted to protect, or how Claire Novak had stopped praying to him weeks ago, now. He got on with the job, this is just a job, I can fix this-

He managed to wrap Dean's leg up decently tight, straight and stiff, but he had quickly discovered it was broken in several places. He didn't know what he could do for Dean's ribs, and he felt, as if from a distance, how Dean's breath was coming shallower and shallower, and he made his choice.

He laid his left hand on Dean's broken leg, as gently as he could. Leaning forward, he smoothed the wispy little baby hairs he loved to tease Dean about back, off his sweaty, pained, precious face, and, placing his right hand on Dean's crushed ribs, near his heart, touched their foreheads together. He looked at Dean's soul, his shining, beautiful (fading) soul and knew.

"I love you," Cas whispered, his voice wrecked. With that finally said, he grabbed his exhausted, weary Grace, and though it fought him and slipped through his grasp, he got hold of it and he pushed everything he could, everything he was into his hands, into Dean.

When he had done it, when he had drained himself down to mists and vapors, and had saved Dean, he gathered him in his arms, and carried him back to the truck on numb feet, leaving the scraps of Jimmy's coat behind in aisle seven.

When the truck broke down thirty miles from Chitaqua, and their radio too, he turned to Dean, pulling on a blue-ish jacket they'd picked up earlier during the run. It fit well.

"It's a good look for you," Dean said gruffly, staring at Cas with an expression he could not recognize. There was blood still smeared on his cheekbone, he noted absently.

"Oh. Yes. Well, thank you," Cas answered, adjusting the sleeves.

Dean tugged at the tan fabric strips on his leg, wincing at the pressure.

"You did a good job, Cas. With this fabric splint from your coat-"

"I know you won't be able to walk it," Cas said quietly, unable to meet his eyes even as he interrupted him. "I did what I could, but you'll be weak for days. You need time."

"You can leave me, Cas," Dean said, a strange, pinched guilt-pain-tenderness on his face. "You can come back for me."

"No," Cas said, smiling, and choking, and took Dean's cheek in the palm of his hand with a terrible ache rising in his throat. "I can't."

April 19th, 2012, under the peak of the Lyrids meteor showers, Cas flew for the last time, right up to the gates of the camp.

When they landed, a millisecond and millennia later, his wings burned away into nothingness in a wave of electric, minty-white pain that forced him to the ground. In the aftermath, panting and sweating and shaking in Dean's arms and clutching at his handprint on Dean's shoulder, he realized his Grace, or what was left of it, anyway, had consolidated into a bright little ball in his chest. Like a soul.

The realization was followed by another. Despite his earlier conviction that it would one day be lost to him, he could still see Dean's soul- behind his teeth, in his chest, radiant like a halo around his head, and worth, a million times over, and a million again, falling for.

Tagged:

@heller-jensen @sunforgrace @rambleoncas @adhdeancas @evermorecastiel @holmesemrys @plantdadcas @good-things-do-happen-dean @jeanne-de-valois @autisticandroids @sonder-stars @yana125 @faithcastiel @cascreamtiel @seffersonjtarship @i-sing-for-me @purgatorybi @bibelphegor @cowboyslikedean @gracefuldean @dimples-of-discontent @judaskissdean @wafflehousegothic @icaruscastiel @67chevyimpala67 @lesbianjenderenvy

[hollyhomburg]

Hi! I sent a previous ask about the Sandcastle series- I would love to see whatever you have and are comfortable sharing 😍

SANDCASTLES: UNRELEASED SNIPPET (YOONMINJOONSEOK X READER) (OMEGAVERSE AU)

SUMMARY: You and Hoseok had a bad fight, so bad that you don’t know if you can come back from it. will you let the rest of your relationship with the others suffer? or will you decide that they’re better off without you? moreover- what will happen when you leave them. 

TAGS: angst, leaving long term relationships, polyamory, details of toxic relationships, secret-keeping,  omega! reader, Omega! Jimin, Alpha! Namjoon, Alpha! Hoseok, Alpha! Yoongi

W/c: 4.2k

A/N: this is a stolen part from a series I never plan to finish, it is angst and there is absolutely no resolution planned to be given to you. please note: the reader is actually pregnant with Namjoon’s kid during this, but none of them know- not even the reader. there is very little editing in this. I'm just posting this because it would just sit in my drafts otherwise. there is more, I will give it if people want it 

- your hands hover over your computer screen, your email brought up as you hear Namjoon leave the apartment. A solitary tear drifts down your cheek as you look around the apartment. Everything is immaculately clean; the pictures on the wall of the 5 of you are immaculately aligned. 

- The next room over, Jimin Yoongi and Hoseok sleep, probably wrapped up in one another. You know that Hoseok’s probably breathing against Jimin’s skin, and Jimin is probably sighing into Yoongi’s strong arms. the three of them the picture of domestic bliss. 

- You know how that bed feels, how it's warm and comfortable and that it feels like someone is untangling your worries one by one. 

- But you also know that when you go in there it will immediately stop feeling like that, Hoseok is always the light sleeper and will notice the moment that you walk in. Hoseok will turn away, making sure there’s no room in between Jimin and him and no room on his side, and Yoongi will be too lethargic to realize you’re behind him- to asleep to cuddle you, and you’d spend the rest of the night cold and curled to your side. And you couldn’t bear that another night.  

- Your apartment feels so cold to you, Goosebumps rise on your arms. You don’t want to feel cold anymore. 

- You look at your email again, bringing up the one from the company that desperately wants to hire you, you take a look at the benefits, better than your old job, at the apartment they plan to give you, at the hours- less work than before. Then at the address- one city away. 

- You wipe away your tears and begin to type, your hands shaking, 

- I am very pleased to inform you that I accept your generous offer of employment. When can I start? 

- You swallow back the lump in your throat, telling yourself that it’s for the best, they’ll be happier without you around. Without you hovering in the relationship and looking at them forlornly all the time. Your relationship was finished, it was time to say goodbye. they’d be happier without you. 

- You know the thing in this apartment that’s cold isn’t them- it’s you, and maybe when you leave it will get warmer. Try as you might you cant be somewhere you’re not wanted. 

- Even if it will hurt Namjoon, you think he’ll get over it eventually- after all, he’ll have everyone else to comfort him, yoongi will too, you know jimin will never forgive you- he’ll feel so betrayed that you left. But Hoseok will be so glad that you’re gone, finally smiling again without fear of offending you. This is what the 5 of you need. You’re sure of it. 

- Over the next few days- the company contacts you with everything you’ll need to pick up and leave, a plane ticket is sent to you, the address of your apartment, and they arrange for someone to pick you up from the airport. even movers to take your stuff- they’re being terribly kind. 

- For the first few days you try not to let the fact that you’re leaving disrupt your rhythm. 

- You don’t know how you’re going to tell them you’re leaving- but you know it has to be soon. But every time you look at them- how happy they are, you can't imagine making them so sad.  You don’t want them to try and convince you to stay when you know it's not what they really want- but at least that’s what you think 

- What you don’t know is that Namjoon has started to resent the way that Hoseok has pushed you away, he’s already planning a special one on one date between the two of you. 

- And Jimin has started to feel guilty, about giving Hoseok the love that he so desperately craves, when whenever Jimin goes to you Hoseok pushed him away. And Yoongi is left to wonder why Hoseok can’t just forgive you. it’s been more than a few weeks now, and he’s beginning to worry that things won't get better. Because he wants them too. 

- And Hoseok- Hoseok doesn’t know how to forgive you. he wants to but he doesn't know how. Every time he thinks about you- about what you’ve lost he just wants to take you into his arms and never let you go. But then his mouth opens and he says the opposite or treats you with such a cold shoulder that even he feels it. 

- But then a stroke of good luck happens barely a week before you're supposed to leave. Namjoon’s case is reassigned to a courthouse on the other side of the city- and he’s always so wrapped up when that happens that you know he usually sleeps at his office. 

- And Hoseok comes to the others talking about a dance showcase, a convention that will be all day- saying that they could make a day of it, Yoongi and Jimin agree with a smile, Jimin jumping up and down excitedly, you watch from where you're sorting through papers idly listening in. 

- “do you want to come y/n?” Yoongi asks, his eyes watching you watch them, “you should totally come!” Jimin starts saying, jumping up to lean on Yoongi’s arm, as he starts to talk to you about the costumes that will likely be there. About this one restaurant in that area that they could go to. He even talks about the final showcase- a ballet rendition of a west side story that will go off at 8 pm, the same time your flight leaves. 

- Behind them, Hoseok isn’t looking at you instead busying himself by fiddling with something in his hands, but you see his jaw tighten as he looks away, the distaste clear on his face. Yoongi’s gaze flicks to Hoseok’s and for the first time you see a bit of anger in it, maybe it’s always been there- or maybe you’re just creating things in your head. Looking for a reason not to go.  

- You excuse yourself easily- saying that you were hoping to get a lot of work done that day- and that dances aren’t really your thing. And they aren’t- but for Jimin you always used to make exceptions just to placate him. You string a fake smile onto your face and say that you’re sure that it’d be better if you don’t go. 

- Yoongi can't help but recognize a double meaning in your words, his eyes fixing on you with a frown as you start talking to jimin about a new pastry that they were offering at the café as you start to get dinner ready for them. And Yoongi steps in, offering to help you

- He knows something’s wrong with how you keep your distance from him. You used to always wrap your arms around his waist when he would help you cook, or you would sit on the counter in front of him and steal whatever he was chopping off his place. But now you turn away to stir the pots, and carefully step around him when you need to get something. you don’t touch him.

- You even flinch away from him when he runs his hand across your stomach as you pass, your startled sad eyes meeting his before you have a chance to smooth your features into one of soft happiness. 

- You’re hiding something from them and he’s sure of it.  

- So he tries to include you more in the next few days, doesn't let you be alone at night after the others have gone to bed when you have a day off. And when your job ends, 3 days before you leave he tries to spend the whole day with you- but you make excuses, saying that you're too tired or that you have work to do. 

- When yoongi asks you why you have so much time off you just shrug and say, “They didn’t need me in the schedule.”

- The night before you’re set to go your mind is in a jumble with thoughts of packing your belongings into boxes, of the movers that will be here at 4, giving you only 6 hours to pack up your entire life before you leave this place for good- because Jimin, Hoseok, and Yoongi are leaving at 10, talking excitedly about it in the living room while you’re camped out on the balcony tapping away on your computer trying to figure out if you should leave a note, and if you do, what you should tell them. 

- You spend most of the night out on the balcony, it’s been edging so close to summer that it’s so warm outside, you almost think of sleeping out here. it would be easier than avoiding the pack bed. 

- But then the door opens and you turn back to look to your surprise finding Hoseok there, “everyone’s going to turn in now” he says quickly. it’s the first words that haven’t been a sneer, that he’s spoken to you in weeks. and you ache just looking at him. 

- “Are you-“ he looks down at his feet, “are you going to come in?” he asks, you suck on your bottom lip, “I’m going to wait until Namjoon gets back- but yeah, I’m gonna come in.” Hoseok swallows looks like he’s about to say something, then closes his mouth before saying “goodnight then.” And closing the balcony door. 

- Maybe it’s too little too late. 

- Namjoon comes in later, prying open the door to the balcony, to see you asleep on the lawn chair, 

- your computer open in front of you on the Google search for a city- who knows, he thinks, maybe you’re planning a trip there for something. he dosent pay it any mind, even though- in the future he’ll look back on this moment and kick himself for not realizing. 

- You used to do that- look up cities like Paris a Milan and talk animatedly to him about trips you dream of taking. But he pushes thoughts of that out of his head as he closes your laptop, places it inside, and he picks up your small form in his arms and carries you to bed, you protest weekly against his arms, making a noise as you gesture to the couch- where you’ve been sleeping the past few weeks.

- “Not tonight darling.” he says as he heads towards the bedroom, he leans down and pressing a tender kiss against your lips. He pulls away to find your eyes tear-filled and you lip quivering, but still- you screw your face into a smile. 

- it stops him dead in his tracks, 

- he pauses in front of the door, Hopeless- he realizes that you look absolutely desolate in his arms like you’re filled with nothing but a deep aching sadness that’s consumed you in his absence. your scent twined with fear- you’re not comfortable here. not anymore.  

- how did he not realize sooner, how did none of them. In his arms, you shake when he presses an affectionate kiss to your cheek. You feel like you’re an inch away from shattering. 

- “Don’t smile at me when you’re sad Jagiya, I know you better than that.”  So you let your tears flow down your face while Namjoon tucks you into bed, you wrap your arms gently around his chest.  And he holds you close, as you start to shake, then Yoongi starts running his fingers through your hair from behind you, as he makes a soft noise in the back of his throat. And you really start to tremble in Ernest. on the other side of the bed, Jimin and Hoseok curl up close. and remain blissfully asleep. 

- every touch they give you feels painful, the sensations burning along your skin. Guilt roils in the pit of your stomach as they comfort you until you’ve stopped shaking. Letting you drift slowly to sleep. 

- Namjoon and Yoongi share a glance over the top of your head, The glance says something simple- something that they wouldn’t fully understand until the next day, there is something very very wrong with you, and tomorrow, tomorrow when they both get home, they’re going to try to talk to you about it. not now when you seem so fragile, you deserve to rest. 

- You wake the next morning when Namjoon gets out of bed, his warmth no longer pressed up against your back. You listen to the sounds of him quietly getting ready. And when he’s done, he slides carefully back into bed, running a hand down your side, and then up to your face, where he runs a knuckle against your cheek softly. “you awake?” he asks quietly, his voice little more than a whisper. 

- You don’t respond, something feels like it’s blocking your throat. Your emotions or maybe your heart- but for some reason, you don’t respond- but Namjoon sighs behind you before continuing.

- “I know things haven’t been the best recently between all of us, but I promise you that after this case is over I’ll work like hell to make this better for you. Just hang in there for me please, I love you- we all love you, even if he’s shit at showing it- he’ll come around you know he will.” you stiffen as you hear his words, trying to stay still as a few tears leak out. you can’t think of hoseok right now without hurting, it feels like your heart is being ripped open and picked through. 

- you’d love to say you find his words comforting, but now- when you’ve already made your choice, they just hurt. 

- Namjoon runs his long fingers down the length of your spine and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder as he leaves for work. And you almost turn around. Almost decided to tell him that you’re leaving today.

- Because his words are lovely really, but they don’t change anything. 

- and you know what he’d do if you told him, you know Namjoon would hold you and keep you from leaving, not let you get on the airplane tonight. but you let him go- you tell yourself that you have to let him go. 

- So you listen to the sounds of him getting ready, the sound of Namjoon stubbing his toe on the baseboards one last time quietly sobbing in the bed. 

- You’ve already been awake for a few hours when the rest of them wake up, but you’re still just drinking coffee by the table reading a few emails about the start of work while they get ready to go to the showcase, your foot taps against the tiled table as you wait for them to leave, you’re not really paying attention to your email. You’re just watching them. 

- Watching as Jimin stretches to reach for a mug and Hoseok slips a hand underneath his shirt to rub at his soft stomach, Jimin flinches and giggles away, Yoongi comes and sits next to you, bending down to tie his shoes, 

- “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asks in a quiet voice, watching your expression carefully. “You shake your head, his words choking you out of your reverie as you look down back at your computer. 

- You give him another fake smile, “don’t worry about it, i’ll be fine- I have more than enough work to do today.” He reaches out, covering your hand softly with his, the affection is so unsuspected that you flinch away at first, but then his hand reaches for yours, grabbing it tighter. “When I get back tonight we should watch a movie” his skin burns against yours.  

- “That sounds lovely,” Jimin chimes in, smiling at you over the edge of his own cup “you should choose y/n its been a while since we’ve had a quiet night in and you’ve been off work,” he says before he’s dragged back into his conversation with Hoseok.  

- “You guys don’t need too- I know you’ll be pretty tired after walking around all day today.” Is all you say, eyes downcast. 

- They finish getting ready to leave- Yoongi runs a hand across your shoulders before he smiles down at you, Jimin gives you a small sideways hug before the three of them exit, “bye guys” you say quietly as the door closes behind them, Jimin is the only one who calls out a goodbye as well- his voice already cheery and happy. 

- The door closes with a final click and you can finally breathe easy, a few stray tears carving a line down your face as you realize- if everything goes to plan that will be the last time that you see them. 

- You pack up your things quickly and efficiently, taking apart your life here piece by piece, folding the memories away into box after box. Locking your heart up memory by memory as you say goodbye. You get your important documents, your makeup, your clothes and your shoes. 

- You carefully fold the 3 sweatshirts that you’d claimed as yours over the years, one from each of the alphas. You know you shouldn’t take them with you. the smell of them will only remind you of what you’ve lost.  

- But you linger over Jimin's shirt- the one you sleep in most often. And really you know you could never delete him from your life- he’s been apart of you for too long for you to do that. but this will be A clean break you decide. When the movers get there and start hauling your boxes away. You fold Jimin's extra-large shirt and leave it in pile on the bed.

- Meanwhile- halfway through the expo, Namjoon calls Yoongi and decides to meet them for lunch, after all, the convention center and city hall are very close together. 

- The three of them order before Namjoon starts, saying quietly. “we need to talk about y/n; Hoseok, none of us can keep going like this, and it’s been long enough, you need to forgive her” On pretense, Hoseok starts to protest but Jimin steps in, leaning over to cover Hoseok’s hands in his. 

- “You’re hurting all of us by doing this, and believe me- I know how hurt you where in the beginning but at this point what you’re doing is cruel Hoseok- and you shouldn’t be cruel to the people you love.” 

- “do you even love her anymore, do you even care?” Yoongi says- his voice low and angry, he’s angry at Hoseok and angry at himself. Yoongi who has always felt things too keenly to restrain his emotions. “because if you do you have a shit way of showing it, I thought you were supposed to forgive the people you love even if they hurt you,” 

- “I do love her! I swear!” Hoseok cries, a little too loudly, the patrons at the restaurant look at him, and Hoseok runs his fingers through his hair pulling at it lightly. 

- “at first I was so angry- so angry that she could treat me that way; like I didn’t matter, and I wanted to treat her the same way; but- but it’s like I don’t know how to talk to her anymore, it’s like I think one thing in my head but then I open it and another things come out, but it was wrong of me to try and hurt her like that so I'm done- I’m done with hurting her- I should have been a long time ago.”

-  Namjoon nods approvingly, sliding his hand up and down hoseok’s thigh under the table. Jimin smiles, a weight temporarily off his shoulders. “tonight” Hoseok resolves “I’ll apologize to her tonight”

- but he never gets the chance too. You get in the taxi, and get on the plane, your eyes fixed in front of you, trying not to look back. inline at TSA, you change every password to every account you might have told them. You only start crying when the plane pulls up and up, and you see the city you fell in love with fall away underneath you. 

- They get home at 9pm, a little early, Jimin decided to skip the last performance in favor of coming home to you, eager for things to be put right again, he’s already fixing his own apology in his head when he opens the door and finds all the lights off, “y/n” Hoseok calls as he pushes in past Jimin, a small nervous smile on his face as he goes off behind you. Yoongi runs to the bathroom. While Jimin files in slowly. 

- “y/n?” he calls again, but the air feels heavy, the apartment still and sterile as a hospital in the middle of the night. the entire kitchen is clean except for a mug- your mug, your pink and Polkadot mug that he saw you having coffee in this morning, when he picks it up- your keys jangle in it, which is odd- you're obviously not here- and you never go anywhere without your keys. 

- Jimin moves the cup away revealing the note beneath it, his eyes widen as he reads the first line, and he has to catch himself on the edge of the counter as his legs give out by the time he’s read the second. 

- He’s sobbing, openly and freely, fighting to stay upright as tears clog his vision and the world spins, “jiminie.” A careful voice comes from behind him, and large hands are on him that he recognizes as namjoons, but they’re not the hands he wants- not the hands he needs. “jimine whats wrong baby?” His voice slightly panicked, jimin falls against Namjoon, who holds him up effortlessly, 

- Namjoon reads the note over his shoulder as Jimin sobs, Jimin catches the second Namjoon realizes what the note means, his arms scrambling to clutch jimin harder against him, renewing his sobs as Namjoon breaths in jaggedly- launched straight into a panic attack. 

- Hoseok and Yoongi come running once they hear jimin’s sobs, wilding looking for what might have caused them to break down as they ask what’s wrong. Namjoon shakily picks up your note and reads it out loud to them his voice breaking more than once.

- First off I want to say that I’m sorry; I should have never agreed to be in a relationship with you when I knew that you’d be better off without me. the pack will work so much better now that I’m gone. you’re going to be so happy now, and that’s the only thing that’s keeping me strong while I write this letter and pack up my things. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to tell you this in person, but it’s for the best, I’m not worth your love, any of your love, so spend it wiser, spend it on each other and the people who deserve it.

You four will always have a space in my heart. Please forget about me and go on with your lives. I’m safe, and maybe one day I’ll be okay.  Please Don’t come looking for me.

- Y/n

Ps. Jiminy, I’m sorry we couldn’t make it even after all this. Especially when we tried to be together for so long. But You’ll be all right without me, you just have to try.

- Namjoon breaks several times while re-reading it, tears running down his face clouding his vision.  Jimin is sobbing hysterically through the entirety of it, clutching at his heart because it feels like somethings been cut out of him, his heart hurts more keenly than any pain he’s ever felt. 

- He’s breathing too heavy- he’s going to pass out. Yoongi looks shocked, his mouth open as his eyes cast to Hoseok. Hoseok, who looks like the words haven’t sunken in, his eyes wide, his lips parted in disbelief? 

- “No” he chokes out. “No I can't be too late, she has to come back, I need a chance to make this right” 

- Yoongi runs to the bathroom and vomits in the toilet, the sound of his wrenching joining Jimin's sobs as he crumples, Namjoon drops the letter back onto the table and sinks with him. Fisting his hands in the back of Jimin's shirt to keep his knees from cracking against the tile floor. Jimin is griping like his chest like his heart was ripped out- and it feels like it was.

- Hoseok reaches out- to put a hand on Jimin's shoulder and Jimin flinches,

- “NO!” he screeches, “you don’t get to touch me, not when you pushed her so far away she went right out the door” Namjoon’s arms go slack at the venom in Jimin's voice. And Hoseok looks equally shocked, especially when he continues spitting vitriol. Jimin could always be scary when he was angry, but now he’s just being cruel “if there’s anyone who’s not deserving of love it’s you”  

- The silence feels like it’s prying them apart until Yoongi says from the doorway “It’s everyone’s fault” His shoulders shaking as near-silent tears slip out of his eyes, he’s supporting himself on the wall. “We all let it happen, we all let her go.”

- The words seem to break them open more when they realize that it’s all true.

--------------------------

(please like and comment if you want more: but also note that I will not be completing this story, this is just like- me unloading my drafts).   

[childrenofthesunny]

Seek Him Who My Soul Loveth (1/2)

For my spin on @gayforgoodomens‘ Priest AU, for when she wondered off-hand how Crowley and Aziraphale might go about having sex for the first time, whilst simultaneously still pining/pretending they’re not breaking their vows. So, naturally, off I went to write what’s looking like will be a 6-7,000 word fic about it.

Listen, the only thing stopping me from turning this AU into a full-blown multichapter fic is (a) my knowledge of the workings of Catholicism being limited to some brief skimming of Wikipedia and what little of church I remember from when I was 7 and (b) I already have a multichapter WIP being posted, and I know I don't have the attention span to maintain two major WIPs simultaneously.

But I want to

(That being said, this is in two parts; part two should be done in a few days.)

If you prefer, you can also read this on Ao3 @ childrenofthesun.

-----------------------------------

"Ah, Father Crowley, there you are! So, this is where you've been hiding all evening."

 "Hardly a shock to find me out here, is it?" Crowley asked with a grin, squinting up at the cherubic middle-aged man now standing beside him. Like Crowley, he was wearing pants and a short-sleeved button-up with a clerical tab, in deference to the balmy summer weather. Unlike Crowley, he was very clean and neat, and not wearing a dirt-streaked garden apron. "I've been spending all of my free time this week working on the gardens, now that Shadwell's retired and can't go berating me for trying to do the job he wasn't even doing himself. Beyond me how he even got the job in the first place."

 The other man looked around fretfully, as if expecting the former groundskeeper to leap out from behind a poorly maintained bush and start yelling at him. "Oh, I know, but you mustn't be too hard on the poor fellow. The job was more to make him feel useful than anything. But Gabriel said we couldn't justify the expense anymore."

 "You were too soft on him, anyway, Aziraphale," Crowley admonished, smirking at the little huff Aziraphale let out when Crowley didn't address him by his title, as he was supposed to. "Letting him set up all that nonsense meant to ward off witches. It’s certainly never stopped Anathema from coming here to borrow one of your books."

 "At least it kept him busy," Aziraphale replied, sounding slightly aggrieved. His hands fluttered briefly by his wrists, as if he wanted to fiddle with the sleeves of the cassock that was his preferred style of dress. "Although it would have been nice if he had directed some of that energy towards the upkeep of the gardens. I did try to explain to him that the grounds are consecrated, and that surely would ward off evil, but in his eyes that wasn't sufficient protection."

 "I know, I tried to explain it that way, too," Crowley told him cheerfully. "Apparently, the fact that I wear sunglasses all the time means I must be in league with the Devil, so he didn't think my input was particularly useful."

"Is he not aware of your eye condition?"

 "I tried to tell him what photosensitivity is, but seems he's of the school of thought that science and witchcraft are basically the same thing. The tattoos probably didn't help me make my case either."

 Aziraphale made a face. "Ah."

 "Yup," Crowley confirmed, and Aziraphale shook himself suddenly.

 "You've distracted me, you wily old thing!" he chided.

 "Younger than you," Crowley pointed out, grinning impishly and making Aziraphale glower at him with impatience.

 "I was about to get cross with you," Aziraphale insisted. Crowley arched an eyebrow at him.

 "Oh? Whatever for?"  

Aziraphale gestured at the gardening tools in Crowley's hands. "That! It's far too late for you to be working out here, still."

 "Still light out," Crowley muttered, poking rebelliously at the soil with his trowel.

 Aziraphale rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in exasperation. "It's summer, of course it's still light out! That doesn't change the fact that it's almost nine thirty." He shifted his weight, arms now folded. The slowly dwindling rays of sunset caught in the white-gold curls crowning Aziraphale's head, making them glow as if from within.

 Lord, but did he look like an angel.

 Crowley hissed in displeasure as he begrudgingly got to his feet, the taut muscles of his back creaking in protest. Aziraphale gave him a reproving look.

 "'S not like it's going to weed itself," Crowley grumbled in a half-hearted final objection, wincing again. Now that he was standing, the ache in his back was really starting to settle in. He tried to straighten to his full height, which would give him a few inches over Aziraphale, but found that his spine would only comfortably let him stand with their eyes level.

 All right, maybe he had been overdoing it a bit over the past few days.

 Aziraphale pursed his lips. "Be that as it may, you mustn't work like this to the detriment of your own wellbeing. It will still be here in the morning. This is your home, Crowley, it isn't as if you'll be forced to leave if you don't turn the church grounds into Kew Gardens overnight."

 "S'pose I would've been kicked out ages ago, if that were the case," Crowley acquiesced, rubbing some of the dirt on his hands onto his gardening apron. "Y'know, when I first came here, I was really excited to see the gardens," he admitted. "I'd heard how lovely they were, especially for such a small church. Was a bit of shock when I saw the state they were in."

 What he didn't add was that, given Shadwell's constant undermining of any covert attempt he made to coax the gardens back to life, Crowley would have long ago gone and grovelled to the diocese to grant him a new assignment elsewhere. That is, had he not had a compelling reason to want to stay in Tadfield.

 A middle-aged, cherubic man-shaped reason, to be specific.

 "Well, you'll have plenty of time to restore them to their former glory, now," Aziraphale said kindly. "There's no need for you to rush anything."

 Crowley hummed in agreement, and went to bend down to pick up his tools, unable to stifle a groan as he did so. Aziraphale was quick to forestall the movement with a hand to Crowley's chest, his usual hesitance to so much as brush shoulders with Crowley vanishing under his concern. Allow me, he probably said, but Crowley couldn't hear him over the sudden rush of blood to his ears, pounding through his rapidly beating heart in a way that Aziraphale would surely be able to feel beneath his fingers.

 Aziraphale said something else that Crowley's brain refused to parse, too focused on trying to keep the other priest from realising the effect the simple touch was having on him. He managed to nod, not sure what he was agreeing to, but was rather proud of himself for managing not to whimper when Aziraphale's hand pulled away.

 "We'll just put these away first," Aziraphale told him, Crowley's brain function apparently restored now that they were no longer touching. Crowley dutifully trailed after him to the shed, putting his tools back in their rightful place. He grunted slightly when he reached to the small of his back to undo the ties of his garden apron, the motion tugging at the aching muscles of his shoulders. The sound alerted Aziraphale, who immediately fussed over him again, lifting the strap holding the apron around his neck for Crowley despite his protests. Crowley scowled as Aziraphale smiled serenely at him and hung the apron on its hook by the door. Secretly, however, he was glad that the dim, fading light meant that Aziraphale wouldn't be able to see that the tips of Crowley's ears had gone a hot, flaming red.

 Aziraphale took the lead again as they both headed for the rectory they shared, both toeing off their shoes and leaving them in the rack by the door once they'd crossed the threshold.

 "I imagine you'd want to shower before we begin," Aziraphale said as they headed into the living room. He picked up a book he'd left beside the sofa and took a seat, already thumbing it open. "Take your time, I'll be waiting here for you when you're done."

 Crowley glanced down at the dirt packed under his nails, felt the sweaty stick of his shirt against his back, and couldn't help but agree. Whatever Aziraphale had had him agree to, it probably would be best if he cleaned himself up first. Not to mention it would give him a little bit of time to collect his thoughts, to slow the still traitorously fast gallop of his heart.

 He headed upstairs, grabbed a change of clothes from his room, and did his best not to run to the bathroom, knowing Aziraphale would be able to hear the creak of the floorboards overhead if he did.

 Once enshrined in the privacy of the bathroom, shower turned on and old pipes groaning laboriously as they slowly heated, Crowley sagged against the door and let out a long, shaky breath.

 "Get a grip," he muttered to himself, flicking on the ancient exhaust fan. It rattled slowly to life, letting out the occasional whining protest, as the unbalanced blades scraped against the inside of the casing. "You're acting like… like he's about to lay down rose petals for you and take you to bed, when you know he couldn't find his way out of the closet if you gave him a torch and a map. And even if he could… he wouldn't do anything about it. You've both got your vows." He tore off his clothes and left them in a sullen pile on the floor, opening the shower door. Steam billowed out and he stepped inside quickly before too much could escape. He stood directly under the scalding spray, heedless of how his pale skin went instantly pink. His face was likely beyond sun-kissed, too, given the time he'd spent in the garden.

 There wasn't much he could do about that, but at the very least he could wash the sweat from his skin, furiously scrub the dirt out from under his nails. Whatever the evening had in store for him, at least he'd be clean.

 He fruitlessly tried again to piece together what Aziraphale had asked him, out in the garden. Now, though, naked and surrounded on all sides by steam, his mind only seemed to want to offer him lewd suggestions, each one more highly improbable than the last. Unbidden, he imagined Aziraphale walking into the bathroom to find out what was taking Crowley so long, then disrobing and entering the shower with Crowley, hot water cascading over them both as Aziraphale pressed him up against the tiles–

 With a burst of self-disgust, Crowley realised that certain areas of his body were getting very excited indeed by such thoughts, and were responding in a way that was meant to encourage him to keep thinking those exact thoughts as he took himself in hand. He'd done it a few times in the past, now, even though it invariably left him riddled with guilt and shame. Somehow, it seemed even more egregious than usual to have a self-loathing-fuelled wank over the man he worked with, when said man was patiently awaiting his return downstairs, none the wiser.

 With a sigh, he turned off the heat, standing under the cold spray for several seconds to try and keep his body from getting any funny ideas, before cutting off the water completely. Skin still pink in places, but at the very least clean, he towelled himself off, squeezing as much water out of his hair as he could. A glance in the mirror told him that he'd definitely been out in the sun too long. If he was very lucky, the skin wouldn't start peeling off over the next few days, but, given how his pale skin had historically reacted to overexposure to the sun, he wasn't exactly holding out hope. He applied some moisturiser to his face to at least draw out some of the heat, and resolved to stop being so forgetful about putting on sunscreen when he needed to.

 He put on his clothes quickly, only realising once he was done that he'd gone on complete autopilot, and dressed himself as if preparing for his clerical duties, collar and all. He felt a little stupid, but knew he'd feel even stupider if he went and changed again, so he decided to leave everything as it was, and headed back downstairs. Hopefully, wearing something symbolic of the Church would help remind his unruly body, mind, and heart how they were all supposed to be behaving.

 "Ready, then?" Aziraphale asked when he came back into the living room, glancing quickly at the page number before closing the book and setting it aside.

 "Yep," Crowley answered, still having no idea what he'd agreed to.

 "We can use my bed," Aziraphale decided. "Now that I've had a moment to think about it, the couch really is far too narrow to give us enough space to work with comfortably."

 "What?" Crowley squeaked.

 Aziraphale gave him an odd look. "I suppose we could do this here, with you laid out on the floor, if you'd prefer. I know that some people like a more solid surface beneath them for this sort of thing," he said, apparently unaware that he was giving Crowley a heart attack.

 "You… you want me on the floor?" he managed.

 Aziraphale shrugged. "Personally, I would have thought the bed would be more comfortable, but the choice is yours. This is to your benefit, after all."

 "…My benefit?" Crowley asked faintly, apparently unable to do much more than echo Aziraphale's words back at him.

 "Honestly, Crowley," Aziraphale replied huffily. Crowley managed to find space amidst his confusion to feel the little thrill he always did whenever Aziraphale dropped the honorific when referring to him by name. "The massage? That we discussed not twenty minutes ago, were you even listening?"

 "Massage?" Crowley couldn't help but parrot. Aziraphale pinched the bridge of his nose.

 "Yes. Massage. For your back. That I offered to you. Because you've been overworking yourself in the garden all week and can barely stand upright."

 "Oh. Right," Crowley managed, nodding like a dashboard bobblehead on an unpaved country road. "That massage. 'Course."

 "Honestly," Aziraphale huffed again, but far fonder in tone this time. "So. Out here, or on the bed?" "Bed," Crowley said before he could stop himself.

 Aziraphale nodded, standing. "Shall we, then?"

 Crowley nodded mutely, and when Aziraphale began to lead them both upstairs, he followed.

[noonachronicles]

The End of the F**king World Pt. 6

Byun Baekhyun X Reader

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: Aggressive fluff. Copious amounts of affection. 

Genre: Apocalyptic/Alien Invasion AU. Two idiot lovers.

A/N: My apologies to anyone that was waiting. Sorry for disappearing and taking so long on an update! I can’t believe this is almost sort of done?? I feel like there’s still a lot that happens but there should only be like 2-3 more parts. We’ll see I guess!   

On the third consecutive morning of waking up with Baekhyun’s arms wrapped around you, you decided that there was no other acceptable way. What was the point of waking up if it wasn’t done feeling warm and inexplicably safe? You didn’t even move. You didn’t want to disturb him because you weren’t ready to start your day. In a matter of hours the two of you had been able to create this bubble of perfect happiness. The kind of happiness that you hadn’t felt in so long and you didn’t want to give it up just yet.

You kept your cheek pressed to his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart and felt the rise and fall from his breathing. It was nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. Through the windows of the store you could see light from the sun starting to make its way into the galleria through the opening of the shattered roof. As it continued to inch its way across the old tile you knew your time was almost up.  

“You awake?” Baekhyun asked quietly, his fingers gingerly running along the arm you had wrapped around him.

“No.” You grumbled into his chest after a long stretch of silence.

His chest shook with a light laugh, “I had the best dream last night.”

“Oh yeah? What was it about?” You let out a yawn before looking up at him.

“You told me you loved me.” He looked so happy just at the memory of it that your heart warmed about ten degrees. “Then we had… the most amazing sex I’ve had in years.”

“Best sex or only sex?”

“Don’t ruin it.” He grinned.

Your hand moved along the length of his neck, until it curved to cup the back of his head and you pulled him toward you for a kiss.

Pulling reluctantly away you whispered, “Well I think you should keep dreaming then, I’ll join you.”

He pushed his nose into your hair, inhaling you before muttering, “I wish we could. I’d spend all day dreaming about you. I’ve done it before, remember that time I had the flu for like two weeks? It was awesome.”

“God, you’re so in love with me.” You teased.

“That’s true.” He agreed. “Unfortunately for my dreams, we should leave soon. If we do we might make it to rendezvous before noon.”

It was quiet for a minute as he waited for you to comment with your opinion, knowing that you always had something on your mind.

He was surprised when you let out a slightly whiny and completely out of character, “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here with you.”

“What?” It was all he could manage. “I- You- What?”

“Wouldn’t you rather stay here with me?” You asked, “We could eat junk food all day. Play with nerf guns or lightsabers or build every LEGO set they have or turn the whole mall into a blanket fort…”

“Stop, I’m already so aroused.”

“We could kiss too. Kiss until we can’t feel our lips. Please?” You begged, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Baekhyun was glowing at the sound of the words coming from your lips, unsure he’d ever get used to it. “We have to go, you know that. Don’t you want to make sure Seulgi is okay? That everyone made it to rendezvous safely? Don’t you want to check and make sure everything is set for Baddie? That everything and everyone is prepared?”

With a sigh you nodded, resting your pouty face on his chest again. “I guess. When did you get so responsible?”

“Look,” he said, wrapping his arms around you once more. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend our whole lives together tucked away in the galleria playing with toys and having sex. That’s literally my second biggest fantasy. It’s just that, my first biggest fantasy? Is telling everyone we know that you’re finally mine. That you love me.”

A blush warmed your cheeks and you groaned, “Okay, fine. We can go.”

“We can always come back afterwards. Then we can stay as long as we want.”

The room stayed silent for a moment while you considered the suggestion. A heavy brick of anxiety plummeted into your gut and you knew why you didn’t want to leave. You pushed yourself up so that you were sitting beside his stretched out body, and looked down.

Quiet and unsure you asked, “You really think there’s going to be an afterwards?”

“Ahh. That’s what this is about. ” He sighed, “You don’t think we’re going to win.”

“I just,” you hesitated, “We’ve all watched the same footage. We know the most probable outcome.”

“Yeah but you’re the one who agreed with Yeol in the first place. You’re the one who wanted to try.”

“It’s different now.” You picked at the lettering on his T-shirt.

“How?” He asked, completely oblivious. “It was two days ago. Nothings changed.”

“Now I have more to lose.”

After a second of thought he grinned and pointed to himself. “You mean me?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, obviously.”

With a grunt he pushed himself up into a sitting position and grabbed your face with both hands. After very little warning he had his lips on yours, and then he kissed your cheeks and neck until you were giggling from the tickle of his lips.

“Stop!” You laughed even as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer.

He kissed you until your cheeks hurt from smiling and then leaned back, “You’re not gonna lose me. I’m not going anywhere, not after I worked so hard to get here.”

“How can you sound so certain?”

“It’s you and me, y/n. Til the end of the world.”

“Have you been this cute the whole time?” You asked skeptically.

“Crazy, right? How you never noticed before.”

Leaning into him you pushed your lips against his again and ran your fingers through his hair. You eased back onto the blankets, pulling him on top of you. You just wanted a few more minutes and it seemed that he was willing to give you just that. His hands moved under your sweater, cool against your heated skin. Before it got too far, and you both knew that it would, he pulled back and rested his forehead against your chest with a sigh.

“Have you thought about what happens if we win?” You asked, leaving one more kiss on the top of his head. “Mostly I just thought about how if we lose we die, but what do we do if we live?”

“Whatever we want.”

“Well?” You asked, “It’s not like I have any plans so...what would you want to do? Have you thought about it?”

He hummed, “It doesn't really matter to me as long as I’m with you. It is possible I’ve spent time imagining taking you away. Spending time together just us two.”

“I’d like that.” You smiled as you tried to picture it. “Where would you take me?”

“Out of the city.” He said with immediate certainty, a plan quickly brewing or more likely it was a plan he’d had ready for awhile. “We could find a car that still runs, pack it up with supplies. Or we could hike...just take our time. We could go to the mountains. My family had a cabin up at the lakes. We could stay there for awhile.”

“Baekhyun...” the backs of your eyes burned with tears, nothing had ever sounded so nice. “Yes. Please.”

“Yeah?” Lifting his head from your chest he smiled, “Then that’s what we’ll do. But we gotta leave here first, defeat Baddie, save the world. All the hard stuff.”

You let out another long groan, “Quick. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

With a laugh Baekhyun hopped to his feet and helped you to yours. Both of you changed into a set of fresh new clothes and cleaned up the mess you’d made. You kept the camping setup he’d made. While he emptied out the little tub you even made the bed of blankets. You weren’t sure why but there was just an inkling of hope that moved through you. The tiniest belief that the two of you would get to come back and if you did you wanted it to look nice. Like it had been waiting for you, expecting your return.

After you strapped your boots on tight, had your knives in their holster, and threw on your jacket you were ready to go. As you waited for Baekhyun to pack the rest of his bag and refill the waters you found the pictures he’d taken the night before, forgotten underneath a lantern they’d half slid under. With a little smile you tucked the one of you two in your inside pocket along with the one he’d taken before the museum.

“Ready?” He asked, handing you your water.

“Yeah.” You held out the topless picture of you he’d taken, “Here. Don’t lose this again. I’ll kill you for real if I find out anyone else sees it.”

He grabbed the picture and looked down at it. His eyes went wide with surprise as if he’d forgotten he took it. Tucking the picture in his own inside pocket he looked up at you with a grin.

“What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged, “I just really like you.”

Once you were out of reasons to postpone any longer you followed Baekhyun who led you safely back down to the ground floor. The city outside was quiet but not eerie as you made your way down the sidewalk. You weren’t sure how you knew, but you knew you didn’t have to worry about Baddie today. Maybe it was just something in the air but you felt confident that the two of you would make it to the rendezvous with no trouble at all. You only made it about a half a block before you grabbed Baekhyun’s hand, slipping your fingers in between his. He stared down at your intertwined hands for a long while but ultimately he didn’t say anything about it. After that, everytime he stopped to take a picture of something, he made sure to grab your hand again before you moved on.  

Rendezvous wasn’t that far from the galleria, a handful of miles all together, but it was taking the two of you much longer than it should have. You didn’t care that you were being so off brand, you couldn’t help but feel unenthusiastic about the whole thing. Already missing your happy little bubble, you dragged your feet like your legs were filled with bricks. If Baekhyun had any complaints about how slow you were going he didn’t voice them. He seemed to just be enjoying the journey.

“Baek?” you sighed, you were coming up on the last block.

He stopped to turn and look at you with concern, “Everything okay? Did you see something?”

With a small pout on your lips you shrugged, “No. I just want…”

“What? What is it?”

Looking just past him you saw an abandoned car and nodded towards it, “Can we sit for a minute?”

“Of course.” he squeezed your hand and the two of you walked over to the dented, spray paint covered vehicle. “Are you tired? We’re almost there.”

You shook your head no as he took a seat on the hood and waited for you to sit next to him. Instead you stepped between his legs. Cupping his face in your hands you dropped your mouth to his for a kiss. He chuckled against your mouth, his hands dropping to your hips.

“This is all you wanted?” He asked after you’d finally taken a break for air a couple minutes later.

“It had been a whole hour since the last time you’d kissed me. I was starting to think you’d already grown tired of me.” you answered, your lips lingering against his.

He lifted his hand up to brush your cheek and grinned, “I’m going to be honest, I would have never expected you to be this needy.”

“I’ll be honest too, I’m not usually like this. Actually, I hate being needy and I sort of hate you right now for making me feel like this.”

“Well I’m sorry I make you feel feelings, and I’m sorry I made you wait for kisses. I’ll never make you wait again.” he pulled your face to his for another kiss and then said, “Although you did make me wait until I was basically the last man on earth before you even noticed me.”

Brushing the hair from his forehead you frowned, “I know I’ve already said it but, I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

“I would have waited longer.” he confessed in earnest. “If I was you, I would have made me wait longer. I’m going to be intolerable from now on.”

“Jokes on you.” you laughed, “You were already intolerable.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “Jokes still on you then. I’m only going to get worse.”

Dropping his hands to your waist he pulled you closer, until you were pressed against his chest. He looked at you so sweetly as you watched him. His eyes were so bright and kind. Internally you cursed yourself, unsure of how you’d gone so long without just accepting it. Without accepting him and how deep your feelings went. It had been an impressive amount of denial on your part.

“I love you.” You smiled, and pressed a soft kiss against his cheek.

His eyes sparkled as he looked at you. “It’s so weird hearing you say it. Even though you’ve obviously loved me all along.”

“Obviously.” You grinned offering him another kiss, which he accepted. “I hate you, Byun Baekhyun.”

“Mmm.” He nodded with content, “That’s better. That feels right.”

You raised your eyebrows expectantly but he didn’t say the words.

“What?” He asked with a small knowing smile.

“Don’t make me beg.” You scowled.

Sliding his hands up to your neck he let his fingers get tangled in your hair. “I love you too.”

He kissed you then with purpose until you were moaning into his mouth. You’d even half thought to tear him from his pants, your hands gripping the waistband of his jeans. It was lucky that you didn’t go through with it. After a while you could hear a loud masculine, “Noooo!” that flowed down the street followed by a shrill feminine, “Yesss!”

You pulled out of the kiss, face flushed and lips sore.

“Ignore them.” Baekhyun murmured, his head still turned up to you with his eyes closed.

You were able to lean back down one more time and leave a peck on the tip of his nose before Seulgi tackled you in a hug and dragged you away, “What did I miss yesterday?? Tell me everything!”

“Good to see you’re alive too, Seul.”

“Yay! You’re alive, whatever.” She rolled her eyes, “Tell me!”

You laughed and looked over to where Chanyeol was patting a beaming Baekhyun on the shoulder and offered a supportive, “Finally.”

“Come on!” Seulgi probed once more, “Everything! Details!”

As you walked together down the street, the guys not far behind, you told her everything you could remember between saying goodbye to Chanyeol inside Crowley and right then. Seulgi cried when you told her about Baddie in the museum, thinking about how she could have lost you then and there. Other than that she cooed, aww’d, and sighed dreamily over every detail which only embarrassed you further. Once you told her what you remembered, to her satisfaction, she told you about the rest of the group's relatively boring trip to the rendezvous that had taken all of a day. Almost everyone else had arrived as well with just a few stragglers. It relieved you just a little to know you weren’t the absolute last to arrive. And by then you were there.

Sehun and his Quad Four family lived together in the oldest hotel in the city, Wisteria House. It was a twelve story, hundred year old building that had been renovated about five times in its history. The brass plaque outside of the front doors announced to its guests that it was a historical landmark of the city. Though having grown up a local it was known to you as Haunted House. You’d only stayed there once, on your eighteenth birthday. You had made it until two in the morning before you and your friends had scared yourselves so bad telling ghost stories that you had to leave.

After seeing the look on your face the first time he’d told you where he was staying, Sehun assured you that nothing inside of Wisteria House was scarier than the Lurkers that hung out outside. Though you remained cautious of the idea of staying there. The elevators were decommissioned for obvious reasons, which meant that the trip up to the top was done by staircase and suddenly you understood how Sehun and his family stayed in such good shape. Seulgi brought you to a room that was closest to the one that she was staying in with Chanyeol and made a very big point of making sure anyone within a mile radius knew that you and Baekhyun would be sharing the room together.

Once you dropped off your bags in the room, and gifted Seulgi and Irene what you’d brought them from the galleria you all went to the roof. That’s where everyone else had gathered. It looked like a rooftop war room. There were marked up maps of the city lying around, weapons of all sorts, printouts of various versions of Baddie during attacks in several different cities. There was a genuine sense of excitement on the rooftop. Everyone seemed to be much more positive about the idea of the fight, and in general just very happy to be together. Along with lingering hugs you gave Taemin a handful of lollipops and Jongin the jar of jolly ranchers you’d grabbed for him.

Sehun went over the basics with you of what the plan was so far. He showed you the inventory of the different weapons in the arsenal. Since there were still a few missing people, it had been agreed on to wait until the next afternoon for the actual fight. Plus everyone seemed to want just one more day together, which you were grateful for. Everyone and everything seemed more than prepared and it felt a little like you had nothing to do. Seulgi and Seungcheol were doing inventory on medical supplies and rationing it out the best they could. Baekhyun was with Chanyeol and a couple of the others going over maps in vigorous detail. Everything just seemed peaceful. You ended up just grabbing your tape player and sitting on the roof, taking a little time to yourself to memorize the city.  

“Y/n…” Chanyeol said, pulling on your arm. “Can I talk to you?”

He sat down when you nodded and you hit stop on your tape player.

“If you’re going to tell me how much better I can do than Baek, I already know.” You joked.

“Well since we don’t have to have that conversation...” He laughed, “Maybe we can talk about something else?”

He looked nervous and you couldn’t remember a time...ever, where Chanyeol looked nervous. He’d been a pillar of stability for as long as you could remember. Seeing him twist his fingers together in his lap was honestly making you a little nervous.

“What’s going on?”

Legs shaking, he let out a long slow breath. When he looked over you realized it was you. He was afraid because of you.

“Yeol… what did you do?”

“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Yet. I...I want to ask Seul to marry me.”

“Oh!” In an instant your whole chest felt tight, “I mean, that’s great! But why do you look like you’re terrified of me?”

“You’re her best friend.” He gulped, “You're the most important person in her whole life. I wanted to ask your permission.”

“I’m not though.” You said quietly. Your eyes were brimming with tears. You were so touched that he’d thought to ask you, “You’re the most important person in her life now, you have been for awhile. And I can’t imagine anyone more perfect for her, Yeol. You have all my blessings.”

“Thank you.” He blushed lightly. “I’m going to do it now. I want to do it before...you know.”

“What better time than the present?” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and gave him a reassuring hug, “Good luck. Though I don’t think you need it, like at all.”

Cheeks aching with a smile you watched as he pushed himself up and moved across the roof to where Seulgi was still checking medical supplies. He’d just gotten to her when Baekhyun’s body blocked your view and he sat down where Chanyeol had been.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” you said, trying to look over his shoulder to see where Chanyeol and Seulgi had disappeared to.

“I thought I’d come see you. Since it’s been like an hour. Didn’t want you thinking I’d stopped loving you.” He grabbed your chin and directed your gaze to him. “I’m over here.”

With a sigh of defeat you smiled and leaned in to give him a kiss and all of the attention he was so desperate for. “Hi, Baek.”

“What did Chanyeol want? Why were you hugging him? Huh?” He asked, pulling you in for a hug. “Huh!”

“Why are you always so jealous?” You laughed, slipping your arms around him.

“Because,” he whined, “it took me a really long time to get you to love me.”

“No,” you confessed, “it just took you a long time to get me to admit I love you.”

“Why would you say that?” He asked, lying his head on your shoulder, “You know I can’t handle your confessions of love. Every time you admit it...putty. Especially today! What with the engagement. I’m already too emotional. So much love in the air.”

“Ahhh.” You leaned your head against his, “So you already knew.”

“Of course.” He chuckled, “He told me his plan last week but then shit hit the fan. He wants to do it now, said he didn’t want to regret it if something were to happen tomorrow and he didn’t get the chance.”

“Good.” You said and pressed a kiss on the top of his head, “She deserves that.”

“You deserve that too.” He said quietly.

You laughed, “Are you asking me to marry you? Because this is a pretty lame proposal.”

Finally he pulled away from you, so he could get a good look at your face, “Do you want me to ask you?”

“No, not now anyway.” you said definitively. “I know you’d only be asking because Chanyeol is asking Seulgi.”

He frowned as he looked over at you, “You know that’s not true, don’t you? Tell me you know that when I ask you, and I will ask you, it will be because it’s you. It’ll be because I want you.”

Your cheeks burned with a blush, “Calm down, Baekhyun. It hasn’t even been a whole day since we hooked up. Are we even technically dating? Shouldn’t we be together for at least a week before you propose forever to me?”  

His eyes were closed when you looked over at him and he let out a long sigh of tried patience, “...and you think I’m annoying.”

With another laugh you leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You had to have known I wasn’t going to make it easy for you.”

“You have never made anything easy for me. We’ve been on plenty of dates by the way. Just yesterday I took you to brunch at the convenience store. We went to the museum…” you nodded in silent agreement and gave him another kiss. “I will marry you, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

“Okay.” you agreed. “Not today though. Today is for them.”

He frowned and you waited for the inevitable whine, “Actually, if you think about it, Yeol is stealing our thunder. You and I have been a long time coming. We are a big event. We’re the main event.”

“I don’t need thunder, Baek.” You grinned, “I just need you.”

With a dramatic gasp he clutched at his chest, “I swear to god if you’re nice to me one more time I’ll just explode. I waited so long for this, you’re giving me too much all at once.”

“I could always take it back.” You threatened.

“Too late, no take backs.” He grinned and grabbed the earbud that you’d tucked into the top of your shirt and pulled it out, “What are we listening to today?”

“The Cure.” You said pressing play again on the tape player. A laugh escaped you as the song began.

“What’s funny?” he asked.

“The song.” you laughed again, “The End Of The World.”

As he slipped his fingers between yours he hummed, “Appropriate.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder as the music played and looked back out at the city. It would be easy, you imagined, to pretend like nothing was wrong. In a little moment like this. Moments with Baekhyun where things seemed almost normal. Granted you had never sat on the edge of a roof of an abandoned hotel with knives strapped to your thigh in the before times. However, up until very recently, you did spend almost every waking moment feeling like you might die at any second. Not with him. With him you were so happy that any worry you had was suffocated by it. Things, as strange as they were, felt right. You knew from the jump that tomorrow’s fight was a suicide mission, but now you knew you had a real reason to fight. Right on cue Baekhyun’s fingers squeezed your hand tighter in his lap and you closed your eyes.

The sweet moment you were sharing only lasted a little longer. Before you knew it Seulgi was rushing onto the roof in a hysterical euphoria. She gave you a quick hug and then it was down to business. Just as impatient as her groom, Seulgi wanted the wedding to be that night and in the two minutes it took her to find you, she’d already come up with a plan. There was a handful of hours left before sundown but after hearing the plan you agreed, it was totally possible to pull off. As she was telling you her idea more and more people gathered around and offered to help. You had been tasked, and rightfully so you thought, with finding rings for the couple. You said you could do it on your own but as you’d secretly hoped, Baekhyun wouldn’t hear it and insisted on coming with you.

The two of you would share your tasks, finding candles and getting rings. Your half of the task was easy. You already knew what rings you wanted and exactly where to find them. Armenia was a handful of blocks away, and assuming that no one had randomly looted it, you remembered there was a ring that Seulgi had always talked about wanting. Luckily on the way there Baekhyun had remembered Apothecary. It was one of those luxury retailers that sold insanely overpriced items that fit a boho chic aesthetic. Two hundred dollar jeans that never lasted more than six months, completely manufactured jewelry and home decor that was intentionally made to look like it was handmade by a child. It was in general a terrible shop when you could get more authentic items for less money if you shopped across town. It was finally beneficial to you on this day however. Along with everything else the store offered a section of inauthentic witchy and occult items, including an entire wall of shelves filled with candles.

“You’re an absolute genius.” you said peering through the window, “This is perfect.”

“Well, I used to walk past it every day to get to you.” he mentioned, but your head was already somewhere else.

Eyeing the few Lurkers in the shop you thought about the museum. You’d been so distracted by things with Baekhyun that you’d almost forgotten all about the incident. Part of you wanted to test it again and see what might happen.  

“Hey.” you turned around and left a kiss on his cheek. “I can handle this. Why don’t you go ahead and check out the jewelry store? See how many Lurkers are in there.”

“Are you sure?” He frowned, “You don’t want to do it together?”

“I’m sure I can take three Lurkers.” you grinned, “This won’t take me any time at all. I’ll just meet you at the store when I’m done here. I was thinking if we get everything as quick as we can then maybe we don’t have to rush back. You know? So if you go clear out the jewelry store then we can grab the rings, get them cleaned up and still have time to do anything else we need.”

“Anything else we need?” He asked thoughtfully, “Like you wanna mess around?”

“I didn’t say that!”

“No, I said it.” He leaned in to give you a quick kiss before pulling away, “Alright, be quick! I’ll miss you if you take too long.”

“Good, I hope you do.” You pushed him gently and watched him take off down the sidewalk, with a sudden sense of urgency you called out, “Hate you!”

“Love you too!” He called back over his shoulder as he rounded the corner at the end of the block.

After a deep breath you opened the door to the shop. It looked mostly untouched, a nice thick layer of dust covering everything. There was a section of floor that was flooded with sunlight but the back of the shop, where the candles were, was dark. The three Lurkers moved slowly forward at your appearance. They stepped just to the edge of the light and waited, light clicking and hissing noises came from them but no shrieking which should have been their immediate reaction to you. Their bodies swayed with movement but it was so subtle you barely noticed. Grabbing a blade for each hand you stepped towards them. With every cautious step forward you waited for a reaction but there was none. Even when you were well within attacking distance.

You still weren’t sure why they weren’t coming after you, why they were just standing there watching you. It was by no means a comfortable situation but after a couple minutes had passed you were no longer scared or nervous. You even walked into the shadows with them, circling them as they stood there mostly frozen except for their breathing. Standing back in front of them you looked closely at their silver eyes, they looked like they were made of metal. After taking a nervous breath you even lifted your hand to touch their leathery scales. Still they didn’t move. Then with a gulp you pushed one of your blades between the eyes of one of the Lurkers as the other two watched with no reaction. The light drained from its eyes and it collapsed on the floor at your feet and still nothing.

“What the hell…” you muttered.

You didn’t understand what was happening but you didn’t like it. You made quick work of the other two Lurkers and bagged up every candle you could find before taking off down the street. You weren’t sure if you were going to mention anything to Baekhyun. You’d need to see if the same thing happened with him. Maybe something had changed for everyone, not just you. Whether it had changed for better or worse still wasn’t totally clear to you.

The jewelry store looked empty. When you moved inside and didn’t immediately see Baekhyun your heart started to race. Dropping the bags of candles on the floor your head spun with worry. Did he get hurt and leave to find help? Did he run into Baddie on the way over and not even make it to the store in the first place? Your feet were about ready to take off to try and find him when you caught sight of the top of his head. He was looking down at something in his hands as he made his way back into the showroom from the back.

“Hey!” You said feeling relieved. “Was it bad?”

Baekhyun looked up at you with a smile. “Not at all, just a couple in the back.”

“Good.” You chewed nervously on your lip. “Um, did they attack you?”

“Yeah.” He said, giving you a strange look. “That’s a weird question. Were they supposed to welcome me warmly and offer me a drink or…”

You shook your head, “No, I was wondering if anything like out of the ordinary happened.”

“No, why? Did something happen with you?” He asked, clearly growing concerned. “Are you okay? We shouldn’t have split up...”

“I’m fine.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile as he made his way to you. “Everything’s okay. I was just curious. It was a stupid question. Don’t think about it too much.”

Grabbing his worried face in your hands you tried to distract him with a kiss. It seemed to work, as you pulled away he just smiled back at you, happy as ever.

“You want to see something funny?” He asked.

“Of course.”

He lifted his hand and showed you what he’d been looking at. “I found your locker. This was in it.”

It was a picture from what felt like ages ago. It looked like it was taken at a restaurant or maybe a club. It was Seulgi’s birthday, which was made obvious by the ‘birthday girl’ sash she was wearing. You’d had your arms wrapped around her in a hug and the both of you were nearly doubled over with laughter. Taemin was on the other side of you, a drink in hand and blurred around the edges like he’d been dancing.

On Seulgi’s other side stood Chanyeol and Baekhyun. You could see the pink on the top of Yeol’s ears, he looked hammered and was still somehow the only one that managed to be looking at the camera. Baekhyun’s eyes were locked on you, mesmerized by the way you laughed. It made your heart ache. All you’d ever wanted was someone to look at you the way he did and you were too clueless to ever see it.

“What makes it funny?”

He shrugged, “Maybe more embarrassing than funny. The way I was completely desperate for you even all the way back then.”

“I don’t think it’s embarrassing.” You shook your head. “No, I love the way you look at me. We can trade.”

He watched curiously as you reached your hand into your jacket. After a quick double check that you’d grabbed the right one you handed him the picture from the night before. With a smirk you handed it over to him, snatching away the one he’d shown you.

“Now I’ll have the one where you’re completely desperate for me and you can have the one where I’m completely desperate for you.”

“Oh. Oh yeah! I love that.” His face lit up when he looked down at the picture. “Yeah, god, you should feel…so embarrassed about this. Look at you. How are you not mortified? If I had proof that I was totally obsessed with someone the way you are with me, I would never show them. You’re so courageous letting me have this incriminating evidence.”

“Shut up!” You laughed, landing a smack against his chest. “I hate you.”

Baekhyun let out a scoff and flipped the picture around to show you, “Clearly.”

“Stop teasing me.” You said very seriously and walked over to one of the shattered glass cases, “I have work to do.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You were relieved to have found the ring you’d been thinking about. It was a beautiful princess cut diamond set in a rose gold band. You still had vivid memories of the times before. Just the two of you at work, your manager gone for some reason or another, and she would wear the ring all day long. She told you over and over again how if she was ever going to get engaged she hoped that this would be her ring. The matching band for the set was with it, much to your delight, and then you found the perfect band for Chanyeol. A black tungsten band with a rose gold inlay to match Seulgis’s set. Once you had the rings you cleared a bit of counter space and got to cleaning both of them to perfection.

So caught up in your task you didn’t even notice what Baekhyun had been up to. He’d been wandering around the shop, scoping out different pieces of jewelry. You were almost done, Seulgi’s rings were already boxed and you were just finishing shining up Chanyeol’s band. Baekhyun had moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You picked some pretty nice ones.” he said, kissing the back of your neck.

“Thank you, I did my best.”

“I think I did better.” it was just a whisper and it sent a shiver down your spine.  

“What do you mean?” you asked as he stepped away from you. He didn’t answer so you placed Chanyeol’s finished ring in its box and turned around to see what he was talking about. When you saw his pleased face you let out a sigh, “Get up.”

Knelt down in front of you he shook his head, “I mean, I think I picked a better ring than you, so…Will you marry me?”

“Did you just look for the biggest diamond you could find and picked that one?” You asked looking down at the gaudy hunk of jewelry. A massive pear cut diamond that would cover half of your finger easily.

“It’s totally possible.”

“Please stand up.” Your face burned with a blush, there was no one else even there but you were still embarrassed.

“Come on, just marry me.” getting to his feet he moved in front of you.

“Why?” wrapping your arms around his hips you pulled him close. “We could be dead by tomorrow, so what does it matter?”

“Marry me because we could be dead by tomorrow.”

You hummed in thought. “What day is today?”

“Wednesday.” he said after a moment.

“If you can wait, I’ll marry you on Friday.” You compromised.

“Why Friday?”

Tightening your arms around him, wanting him closer, you answered, “Because that means we made it past tomorrow.”

“Friday…” he said as he contemplated.

You nodded, “We get to Friday and I’m all yours.”

He scrunched his nose slightly, “I would actually argue that you already are mine.”

“Maybe.” You grinned and he leaned down to kiss the curve of your lip.

“Wear the ring at least.” He held up the gaudy diamond ring once more.

“It’s too big.” You complained.

“That’s not what you said last night.” He smiled for a moment and then it faltered, “Wait… no. That is what you said last night? Crap...give me a second…”

You sighed as he tried to figure out his own joke, “Thank god you’re cute.”

He looked at you with his big sweet eyes and pouty lip as he held out the ring, “Please wear it? I know you think it’s stupid, but...for me?”

It was then you knew you were in trouble. Realizing that you’d do anything for that face.

“Give it here...”

Taking the ring you slid your body away from his. His eyes followed you curiously around as you made your way through the store. You picked something out of the case a little ways away and then moved onto another case picking out one more thing before making your way back to him. He continued to watch you as you clasped a thin silver chain around your neck, the ring he’d given you dangling against your chest. Once you’d finished with that a second chain dropped from your palm and he let you secure the chain around his own neck.

When you pulled away he dropped his gaze down to the silver band you’d found for him and smiled, “A ring for me?”

“Well you’re going to need one, right?” You tried not to smile too much at the absolute joy on his face. “For Friday.”

“For Friday.” He nodded and happily tucked the ring and chain under his shirt.

With that you grabbed his jacket and pulled him towards you until your chests were pressed together and your lips met. His hands shot quickly to your hips before crawling slowly up your sides. You laughed against his mouth at the soft tickle. The shop was so quiet except for the smack of your lips and the tiny little moans you couldn’t keep in your mouth.

“How much time do we have?” You gasped after a few minutes.

With a reluctant groan he pulled his hand from beneath your shirt, where he’d been cupping your breast to check his watch. “We have an hour until we’re supposed to be back. We can make it there in under twenty minutes if we hustle. So like...forty minutes?”

“We could do a lot in forty minutes.”

“I only need like ten.” He shrugged.

“Baekhyun!” You smacked his shoulder, “What the hell?”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t use all forty!” He snorted out a laugh. He really thought he was so funny, and the worst part was that you thought so too. “Listen. If I had known you were just going to use my body like a washing machine then I would have...”

“Then you would have what?” You asked, grabbing his collar and pulling him in close again. “Hmm, what would you have done?”

His hands grabbed your hips as roughly as you’d grabbed his collar and he grinned. “I would have tried harder...won you over sooner.”

You let out a laugh, “... you’re ridiculous.”

“It’s true. I should have suggested a friends with benefits situation...years ago. That always turns into romance, right?” You hummed in agreement as you tugged his jacket off his shoulders. “Maybe I should have gotten a bad injury and you could have nursed me back to health and then you would have fallen in love with me that way.”

“That wouldn’t have worked.” You shook your head incredulously while you pulled his shirt over his head. “Seulgi would have nursed you, not me.”

“Maybe she’s my soulmate.”

You paused to look at him, unamused, for just a blink before roughly tugging the belt from his pants. “Oh, we’re soulmates now?”

“Well I thought we might be at first,” he looked down as you shoved his pants down his hips so that he was left in his boxer briefs with his pants wrapped around his ankles. “now I’m starting to think maybe you’re some sort of sex demon.”

With a sigh you pulled your shirt over your head, “Will you please shut up and help me take my clothes off?”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.”

-

Once the two of you were done and after a bit of a hustle the two of you made it back to rendezvous just in time. Preparations had already been started. Some of the guys had collected pallets from a nearby construction site and created a platform for the ceremony. Irene had found an old art supply store and took charge of strategically placing wild flowers, tulles, and lace around the roof. You lit the candles you and Baekhyun had found and other light sources that people had scavenged until the rooftop had a nice romantic glow.  

Baekho and Taeyong had set up a feast of a buffet. Everyone, knowing the likelihood of surviving tomorrow was low, decided to use almost all the rations. You wanted to make a joke about it being the Last Supper but you also wanted to do better at staying positive for Baekhyun so you kept it to yourself. Though, when Sehun made the joke, you allowed yourself to be one of the few who actually laughed.

When all of the decorations were in place the guests went down to their rooms and changed from apocalypse battle gear into wedding attire. You and Irene helped Seulgi with her hair and makeup. She’d found a simple cream colored wrap dress at a thrift shop a few blocks away and somehow made it look like it was worth a million dollars. You tucked the tiara you’d found for her at the jewelry store in her hair as the final touch. Irene had found you a dress to wear. She’d had a feeling you’d forget to find something to wear and she’d been correct. You worried for a moment about Baekhyun but she assured you that they’d picked something up for him too.

Seulgi had asked for a couple minutes to be alone so you and Irene headed to the roof to check that everything was still perfect. The mood all around was so happy and joyful. It was as if a change in clothes and a reason to celebrate turned the whole vibe of the end of the world around. You wondered, quite seriously, if the community should implement a casual Friday rule… if you lived of course.

As the sun started to set in the sky, and everything was in place, it all looked amazing. It looked like an actual wedding. Not just a last minute, pieced together, apocalypse wedding. Taehyun was sitting to the side of the platform playing songs on his acoustic guitar while everyone continued to gather on the rooftop.

You’d been tugging at the skirt of your dress, no longer used to the feel of being so exposed you worried it was a little too short. You did, however, feel grateful that you’d just shaved your legs the night before. When you looked up Chanyeol was making his way through the door to the roof. He looked so handsome. He was wearing a crisp tux, his hair was slicked back emphasizing his giant ears, and the smile on his face was filled with a joy beyond words. He gave you a hug as he passed by you on his way to the pallet platform to wait for his bride and you wished him luck.

“Woah.” You turned to see Baekhyun who’d come in right after Chanyeol, camera hanging from his neck.

You blushed immediately at the way he looked at you. “I look stupid, don’t I? I feel weird.”

“Oh, there is nothing stupid about the way you look. You really just took all my breath away.” His palm was pressed against his chest.

You’d intended to say something snarky in return but you’d frozen. Realizing quickly that you’d never before in your life seen Baekhyun in a suit. It was so simple. Just a white button down under a sleek black blazer and a nice pair of dress pants. And yet here you were, a wreck.

“I think we should tell people we’re engaged.” You gulped, “Right now.”

“Why?”

“I don’t like the way they’re looking at you.”

He laughed, “No one is looking at me, except you.”

“Well they could.” You argued, “And they should know that we’re pretty serious. You agree, right? We’re pretty serious?”

“You think I’m sexy.” He grinned.

“Don’t tease me, just announce our love to everyone.” You whined as he slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you in.

“Say it.” You shook your head and he laughed again, “Say it and you get a kiss.”

“I think you’re sexy.” You whispered against his lips before accepting your reward.

“I’m the luckiest man in the whole world.” He muttered into the kiss.

In the back of your mind, as you stood there lips pressed together in an obvious display of affection, you knew you were being out of character. Even before the invasion intimacy in public was never really your thing but no matter how hard you tried to fight it you couldn’t get enough of him. You had to have him as much as you could. The dam you’d built to protect yourself had completely collapsed and you were drowning in yearning. There was nothing more you wanted than just to be with him and be near him. You felt somewhere between nothing like yourself and exactly who you were meant to be.

You would have kept on him even longer but you happened to notice the blurry form of Taemin run passed you to the platform where Chanyeol was and pulled away. Baekhyun dropped his hands from you and grabbed his camera. You watched as he snapped a few pictures over your shoulder. Turning around you looked back at the door, watching as Seulgi stepped through and Taehyun started to play a new song, slow and romantic. In an instant your eyes were filled with tears, she looked like an actual angel. She was glowing. You’d never seen anyone radiate joy so fully before.

When she reached the front Taehyun stopped playing, everyone quieted allowing Taemin to start the ceremony. Sticking to his side so you weren’t too much in the way of him taking pictures, your arms tightened around Baekhyun's waist as you watched your best friend marry the love of her life.

You’d forgotten how short wedding ceremonies were and it took you by surprise when they came to the vows so quickly. As you listened to Taemin speak you barely noticed Baekhyun move his lips to your ear. Then, following along with the ceremony he began to whisper to you.

“Y/n… every day I become more and more certain that I was put on this earth to love you. I promise to love you until my very last breath.” As you realized what he was doing you turned around in his arms to face him, “As your beloved husband I promise to make sure you laugh everyday and to kiss you so much you never feel unloved. I can assure you I will always get jealous when you show affection to others. And maybe most importantly I will be with you and there for you through the easy, happy times and especially through difficult and trying alien invasions.”

“Baekhyun,” you whispered quietly so not to disturb the ceremony, “You are, I believe, the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. I love you. As your wife I promise to never make you wait for me ever again. I promise to always listen to what you have to say and to sometimes let you take the lead even if doing so makes my skin itch. I will always share my music with you, and any candy I find. And even though I know you don’t need me too, I will always do everything I can to protect you. Always. I will be with you and there for you through the…help...”

“Easy happy times…” he grinned.

“Right, I will be there with you and there for you through the easy, happy times and especially through difficult alien invasions.”

A few yards away you could hear Taemin tell Chanyeol, “You may now kiss the bride.”

And your lips met Baekhyun’s. For a second you let yourself imagine that your friends were cheering for you. The moment was all you needed as you turned back to your newly married best friend and her husband and you cheered along with everyone else.

Baekhyun kissed your forehead and you watched as he walked away for a minute to get some better pictures of the group. Everyone looked so happy and it felt like for the first time in a long time you could actually relate.

An arm around your shoulder pulled you away from staring too fondly at Baekhyun and you looked up to see Jongin.

“Hey.” He smiled over at you mischievously.

You glared suspiciously at him for a moment, “Hi.”

“I saw that.”

“Saw what?”

“You know.” He grinned, pulling his arm from you and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I was standing right behind you. I just wanted to let you know I saw and heard everything.”

“Don’t tell anyone.” You sighed, “Not today. Especially not Baek.”

“Don’t tell especially me what?” Baekhyun asked as he stepped up from behind you, his arm easing around your hip like it’s where it had always belonged.

“Ah, Baek, you heard your girl.” Jongin said, giving you a wink, “Come find me tomorrow, I’ll tell you then.”

You chuckled lightly as you watched Jongin head over to where everyone was getting the party started with food and music.

“That counts, you know.” Baekhyun muttered against the side of your head. “We’re married now.”

You blushed feeling the butterflies storming your stomach. “You tricked me, I said not until Friday. Not until after we’ve survived.”

“You'll find, Mrs. Byun, that I can be a very tricky individual if it means getting what I want.” He grinned, “And what I wanted was to be your husband for the rest of my life. Even if the rest of my life is only from now until tomorrow.”

Turning to face him you had to bite down on your lip as your eyes glossed over with tears. It took you a minute to be able to speak without crying and when you finally did it was a lightly whimpered, “If you weren’t so sexy...”

He smiled brightly as he lifted his hand to your cheek, “You’d be so mad at me.”

“Mrs. Byun.” You groaned, pulling him into a tight embrace, “I hate it.”

“I know, I know. Isn’t it terrible? Now come on, it’s time for our first dance.”

As the night went on so did the party. It had become more than just a wedding celebration. There was an almost somber undertone as people tried not to acknowledge that this might be it. This could be the last good thing to happen to any of you. So people drank and ate and laughed. Everyone shared their best memories from the last few years and from the before times. There was so much dancing and so much singing, most of it done very poorly. All of you pushed away your worries about the future and just spent time enjoying the company of the people you’d grown to love so much over the past few years. People you needed, the people who had all become your family.

At some point, you weren’t sure when exactly, someone had given Chanyeol a guitar. He and Taehyun had started an impromptu jam session, leaving Seulgi by herself for just long enough that you were able to sneak in a dance with her.  

“I’m so happy for you.” You smiled, brushing your hand over her glowing cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

She wrapped her arms around your waist and the two of you swayed slowly to the sound of the guitars.

“You wanna know something funny?” She whispered after a minute and then leaned back to look at you. “I’m so happy and grateful to everyone for doing this for me and Yeol. I’m so in love. And yet… I think I’m most happy about you and Baek.”

“Why?” You laughed, “Because I stopped being so stubborn and finally got dicked down.”

With a small smile she shook her head. Her fingers wrapped around the chain hanging from your neck and she pulled the ring from where you had it hidden down the front of your dress.

“Congratulations.” She smirked. “Mrs. Byun Baekhyun.”

“He told Chanyeol…” you sighed knowing you shouldn’t be at all surprised. “I told him not to. I didn’t want to take away from your day.”

“Of course he did. I’ll excuse you for not being the one that told me first!” Seulgi laughed and pulled you in for a tight hug. “It’s just so nice to see you happy again. It’s like I finally have you back. All of you, not just the tough parts.”

“You think he makes me weak?” You asked quietly.

She thought for a second and asked, “What are you going to do when we win tomorrow?”

“Baekhyun said he’s gonna take me away for a while.” You smiled at the thought, “We’re going up to the mountains, just us.”

“No, he doesn’t make you weak.” She shook her head adamantly, “If anything he’s made you stronger. Before Baekhyun, y/n, you didn’t make plans. Not once did you talk about your future. You didn’t even believe you’d have one. I bet you’re more determined to win tomorrow than you’ve ever been. Aren’t you? It’s because he made you want something you never wanted before. A future.”

“Yeah, he’s the worst,” With a little nod you groaned, “and I love him so much.”

“I know. I’m the one that repeatedly told you so.” she laughed, “You’re not the only one that can be right.”

Looking down at your hand you turned the ring over and over, “It’s stupid, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, does it even really count?” You asked, “It was just us making promises to each other. Do you think it’s silly for it to make me feel so....happy? Am I being childish? Is it just a pretend thing?”

“You said you made promises. Did you mean them? Do you intend to keep your promise to him?”

“Of course. It meant something to him, I wouldn’t go back on it.”

“Did the promise he made mean something to you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah.”

“Then it counts.” She smiled, “It’s not silly or childish if it means something to you. It’s not about ceremonies or documents or anything else. It’s the promises you made to each other that matter. Period. End of story.”

Once it had gotten pretty late there was only a little more than a handful of you left that hadn’t gone to bed. None of you were ready for that good feeling to end. Someone had built a small fire pit that everyone left had gathered around. Except for you and Baekhyun. Despite the fact that there was no longer any music being played, that the only sound was the light chatter and laughter from your friends, he wanted nothing more than to dance with you. It was the least you could do to indulge him, even if your feet were aching.

“You’re too quiet.” Baekhyun muttered against the top of your head, which you had resting against his chest as you moved together.

You gave him a shrug in response.

“Are you thinking about tomorrow?”

With a sad sigh you nodded.

“Don’t. Think about how we’re together right now instead. Think about how sexy you think I am in this suit.” He joked.

You lifted your head and gently kissed his jaw. His arms wrapped around you tighter and you let yourself sink into him. It was easy when you fit so perfectly against him. Trying to do as you were told you stopped worrying about what might or might not happen the next day and only think about the present.

And maybe it was the wedding leaving you far more emotional than normal. Or the way the soft glow of the various lights framed all of the angles of Baekhyun’s face so perfectly that it made you think he looked ethereal. It might have even been the way your brain refused to process any of the sounds that surrounded you except for the low hum vibrating in his chest as he sang only to you mixed with the sound of his heart beating under your ear.

It was probably a mixture of all of that that left you feeling more in love than you thought possible. And somehow still upset and overwhelmed with guilt. Truthfully, it had been happening all day. If you had even a second of silence or a moment to let yourself think, luckily there hadn’t been many, you’d remember how good he always was to you. You’d remember the less than ideal way you treated him to protect yourself. Then you’d just feel guilty that you were allowed to feel this good being with him now.

After a few more quiet moments and too much thinking your lip started to tremble slightly and you whispered, “You make me so happy.”

Baekhyun left a kiss at your temple, “You make me happy too.”

“I’m really sorry, Baek.” You muttered, your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

“Sorry for what?”

“Wasting so much time being miserable. Not loving you like I should have. Like you’ve always deserved.” Tightening your arms around him you sighed. “I wish I could go back. I wish I wouldn’t have been so scared.”

Baekhyun let out a heavy groan. “Would you stop? At first it was funny because it was like for once I was right and you were wrong and you had to admit it but you have to stop this! You get so sad and it’s taking all the fun out of me being smarter than you.”

“What?” You asked, taken aback.

He took a step away from you and grabbed your cheeks in his hands, eyeing you very seriously. “Silly girl. You are literally wasting time that you could be happy worrying about having wasted time not being happy! Stop it.”

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, his hands still pressing your cheeks together.

“No. Don’t say you’re sorry. No more ‘I’m sorry’ for the next...twenty-four hours!” He commanded. “I love you. You love me, right?”

You nodded, wide eyed at his commanding tone.

“Good then just be with me right now, in this moment. Like you were yesterday. Remember that? You loved that!”

“Okay. Okay! I’m-“ he raised an eyebrow at you and you bit back the word. “I’m in love with you.”

“Nice recovery.”

With a smile he pulled you back into his arms and you grinned into his chest. Your grin turned into a giggle and you found yourself blushing against him.

“What?” He asked.

“I just…” you laughed, “I don’t know. That was really sexy of you. So demanding and in charge. You don’t really do that a lot.”

“Yeah? You liked that?” He smirked, “Liked it so much you wanna go back to our room and consummate this marriage?”

Looking over to Seulgi you saw her happily hanging off of Chanyeol. Pretty sure she didn’t need you, you looked back to Baekhyun and nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank god because I have thought of nothing other than getting you out of this dress from the second I saw you in it.” He muttered as he eased his arm around your waist and the two of you dipped quietly away from the celebration.

[electronicgrowth]

Can't Get Enough Part 6

Hello. Yes, I am alive and still writing this. I have an autoimmune disease that flared and knocked me on my butt, on top of preparing to move. So, I’m crazy busy! But don’t you worry my little dumplings. I haven’t forgotten about Lee and Billie. And I just realized I left that last chapter on the biggest cliff hanger ever. I’m so mean! 

But anyway..... this is a small filler chapter that I had been dragging to write. Literally wanting to add this stuff was what prevented me from posting. I have probably the next five chapters written. Also if you ever need a good Sheriff Bodecker fix, I highly recommend this playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7FDbgUjCGtBPsDNiTf8OdF?si=bfce63e832764c34

Summary: The two most stubborn people in Knockemstiff, Ohio have eyes for only each other. Lee Bodecker is determined to become the town’s next sheriff. He knows that image is everything. Billie Dechswaan doesn’t care about her image at all. All she wants is to leave Knockemstiff and never come back. But Lee has other plans for her. Both are far too stubborn to give up their own plans. What happens when they can’t get enough of each other? 

Word Count: 1.1k

After five years, Lee was done waiting. His patience for Billie to return home on her own was wearing thin. Even thinner since Arvin Russell had shot Lee and escaped him. He’d withstood far too many humiliations. 

John had been a throne in his side since Billie left. Always giving Lee dirty looks. John did not vote for Deputy Bodecker to become Sheriff Bodecker and convinced most of his farming friends to follow his lead. 

Joy was a completely different story. She still let Lee in the house when he came over. After the first two years Joy would make off-handed comments about Billie. It led him to believe that maybe Joy knew more than she was letting on. But he didn’t want to press it. He needed to have Joy firmly on his side when Billie came home. Lee’s fondness for Joy did nothing to deter his revenge plans upon her husband. 

He decided to pay some men to tamper with the brakes of John’s car. Two local guys from a couple of towns overs, he had caught soliciting prostitutes— both were married. Lee promised to keep their secret if they did this one thing for him. He told them it was the car of some other dirtbag criminal to cover his tracks. The action would kill two birds with one stone. Lee would have his revenge on John for making Billie leave like she did and Billie would have to come home for the funeral. 

Billie got a job as a librarian. She had and kept her baby. She named her Elizabeth Joy Bodecker. Against her better judgement she listed Lee on the birth certificate. She tried to move on, but always thought of Lee. She hated her job and how much it kept her from her daughter. She just wanted to be home with her amazing, lovely baby. She started dating a new guy, Larry. She didn’t like him that much, but it soon became clear that Larry intended to keep her. He hit her for the smallest infractions and beat her for bigger ones. 

Billie savored her moments with her daughter when it was just the two of them. Her favorite thing to do on Sundays was cook with Beth. Beth would sit on the counter as Billie did all the real work. The radio would be going. Billie would sing sad love songs to her baby, sometimes they would even dance to the music. Billie would swing Beth around the kitchen, all while Beth giggled uncontrollably. These were Billie’s favorite moments. Beth would ask about her daddy. Billie would say the same thing each time. “Daddy was the love of Mommy’s life. He was a great man. But sometimes life leads us in different directions.” It wasn’t the best thing to say, but what else could be said? 

Billie almost ran home five times in the course of those five years. The first time was shortly after Beth was born. She was colicky and wouldn’t latch. Billie needed her mama, or her sister, or her Lee. She called the Ross County Police Department and asked to speak with Lee one evening. The receptionist put her through. 

“Bodecker,” he’d answered gruffly. His voice. She had to cover the receiver with a dish towel so he couldn’t hear her sobs. 

“Hello?” He growled. Just when she almost spoke he hung up. 

The second time was on Beth’s first birthday. She regretted how different her daughter’s first birthday was from all the ways she imagined it should be. She missed Lee.

The third and fourth time she almost went home were after fights with Larry. She thought if she couldn’t get out she’d lose it. But she wasn’t as trapped as she felt. Not really. Surely if she called Lee he’d hightail it up to New York and bring her home. A part of her didn’t want to test that theory. What if he didn’t want her anymore? 

The fifth and final time Billie almost went home was when Lee got shot. Sylvia’s husband Tim was a deputy. Sylvia told Billie what had happened. The news had been an icy shock to her veins. It took everything in her not to pack her bags that night. It took all her willpower not to drive through the night to get to Lee and take care of him. She carefully directed Sylvia on Lee’s favorite foods and told her younger sister to make sure he was being fed. Billie knew Sylvie was rolling her eyes, they didn’t need to be together for her to know that. Sylvie did it anyway. She also relayed how grateful Lee had been. But that he seemed a bit suspicious, Sylvie had no way of knowing what his favorite foods were without Billie telling her. 

The sixth time Billie felt drawn to go home she listened to her gut. On that night, Larry had beaten her again, this time in public. They’d been out on a date. Billie had left Beth with the elderly neighbor lady across the hall. She intended to break-up with Larry that night. But as she began to broach the subject, he flipped their table at the restaurant and threw her on the ground. He proceeded to kick her repeatedly until the manager was able to restrain him. The police were called and she went down to their station to give her statement.

She’d stumbled home from the police station, bruised and tired. Thankfully the bruises were kept to places she could hide, and thankfully he’d done it in public that time so he was caught. Larry was being held in jail. What he did was undeniable. They would probably hold him for a week or two and let the charges drop. As she entered her apartment, the phone rang. She didn’t want to pick up, she wanted to get Beth from her neighbor and go to sleep. She picked up anyway.

“Hello?” 

“B-Billie,” Clara said, “It’s daddy. He’s d-dead.” 

Shock. Dread. Despair. How do you describe the feeling of losing your father forever? Especially with so many words unsaid. No apologies uttered. A situation completely unresolved. Was it guilt? Was it anger? No. It was only sorrow. 

“How?” 

“Car wreck. Come home.” And then the line went dead. Billie was out of options. She knew what she had to do. It was just going to be very unpleasant.

Joy was a wreck, but Sylvia, being the good and dutiful daughter that she was, helped her mother through planning a funeral. The last thing on her mind was communicating with Billie. The funeral was held one week after the accident. Billie managed to break her lease, sell her furniture and pack her bags in just four days. She was running again. But this time she was running home. 

@greeneyedblondie44 @bxnnywriting @kitty4860

[thedanceronthestreets]

PEDRO PASCAL GQ GERMANY - OCTOBER 2020

Original text by Esma Annemon Dil

Fotos by Doug Inglish

Styling by Simon Robins

Translated by @thedanceronthestreets

Intro: A broken tooth could almost have been the reason for our meeting with Pedro Pascal to be cancelled - and with that our conversation about roots, his new movie and times of change. 

Interview: It is almost eery how empty the streets of Los Angeles are under the gleaming sun. While Europe is finding its "new normal", people in L. A. are cutting their own hair even without being neurotics. Many of them have not seen their friends in half a year. The pandemic is out of control. So are the reactions to the situation. Inviting someone to a "distance drink" in the backyard can lead to the same consternation as proposing a relationship partner exchange. 

All the more of a surprise was Pedro Pascal's immediate confirmation. To the drink, not the partner exchange. He is one of the winners this year - and if Corona had not forced the movie industry to go on a holiday, he probably would not have had the time for this drink. After "Game of Thrones", the series in which his head was squished, followed 2015 the leading role in "Narcos" as a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar, and now the leap onto the big Hollywood screen. As of 1. October the Chilean will appear in the blockbuster "Wonder Woman 1984". Furthermore, the second season of the "Star Wars" series "The Mandalorian" will start in October with him as the main character - unfortunately underneath the helmet. But we all seem to be under the same helmet in 2020. It is this man we want to meet, who worked as a waiter in New York a couple of years ago. Whose parents are political refugees that settled in Texas, and one day their son decided to walk into a drama club in high school. 

And then the cancellation. While we were preparing the house and garden for Pedro's drink and fashion shoot, which isn't an easy task under L. A.'s restrictions, his management called in with terrible news: Pedro has - no, not Corona - had to receive emergency surgery due to a sore tooth and is now lying in bed with a swollen cheek, making talking or shooting impossible. The sun shines onto empty streets. And our empty garden. 

A few days later, he stands in front of the door anyway, no huge bulge in his face, but stitches in his gum. No limousine service that dropped him off, he arrived in his own car and picked up his makeup artist on the way. He helps her to carry in all the equipment and states first and foremost: "I've got time today!" What a star! It does not seem like we are about to ask him how he managed to become a Hollywood sensation, but rather him asking us that question. Pedro Pascal! So, what kind of star is he then? 

Pedro Pascal: Sorry for ruining your plans. The operation was a total emergency. 

GQ: Really? We were wondering whether the swelling was the result of a secret trip to the plastic surgeon. Apparently, because of the quarantine in Hollywood, their schedules are packed. 

Sorry to disappoint you. A few days before our appointment I raced to the hospital with a tooth fracture and the worst pain I've ever felt - a hospital where the severe Corona cases are treated. I was unable to contact any dentists! Right before I parked, a specialist called back. I'll spare you the details of the surgery, gruesome. The pain was excruciating despite the 10 anaesthetic shots. The doctor said I wasn't the only one going through this, a lot of people grind their teeth at night thanks to stress. 

What are you most afraid of at the moment? 

The way the government is handling the pandemic scares me more than the virus itself. The lack of intelligent crisis management is a moral disgrace. The leadership crisis makes orphans out of all of us - we're left to fend for ourselves. 

How have you spent the last few months? 

With frozen pizza in jogging trousers in Venice Beach. I live in a rear building that's in the garden belonging to a family. In reality there are enough good takeout restaurants around that area, but for some reason I like salami pizza from the supermarket. 

That doesn't exactly sound like the movie star lifestyle. What does it feel like to be forced from top speed to zero? 

Considering the things happening in this world, my own state really isn't the top priority. But I would have to lie, if I said I wasn't disappointed. The entire cast and crew of "Wonder Woman 1984" put so much heart and soul into the production. We had so much fun on set. I had hoped to carry this feeling of exuberance around the globe to the openings of this movie. 

You are part of a political, socialist family that fled the Pinochet regime in Chile. What do you remember from back then? 

My sister and I were born in Chile, but I was only nine months old when we claimed asylum in Denmark. From there, we moved to San Antonio in Texas, where my dad worked as a doctor in a hospital. 

Texas isn't exactly considered to be socialist utopia. How well did you settle in? 

San Antonio isn't a cowboy city but rather very diverse with large Asian, Afro-American and Latino communities. In my memory it's a romantic place, culturally inclusive. The cultural shock only hit when we moved to Orange County in California later. Suddenly, the environment was white, preppy and conservative. 

How were you welcomed in California? 

To this day I'm ashamed when I think about how I let my classmates call me Peter without correcting them. I'm Pedro. Even without growing up in Chile, the country and language are part of me. I was quite unhappy in that place. At least I was able to switch schools and visit one in Long Beach, where I felt more comfortable. With its theatre programme, I found my path. 

Could you visit your family's homeland as a child? 

Yes, after my parents ended up on a list of expats that were permitted to re-enter the country. First, there was a big family gathering, then me and my sister were parked at some relatives' place for a few months while my parents returned to Texas. They probably needed a break from us. They'd had us at a very young age, had a vibrant social life, and my mother was doing her doctorate in psychology. 

Was your mother a typical young psychologist that tested her knowledge at home? 

You mean whether I was her lab rat? Absolutely. I can remember weird sessions camouflaged as games, where someone would watch my reactions to different toys. Even though I couldn't have been older than 6, I knew what was happening. My favourite thing was to be asked about my dreams. That was always a great opportunity to make up fantastic stories. 

Was that your first performance? 

Definitely! My strong imagination alarmed my mother, because I'd rather live in my fantasy world than in real life. I didn't like school. I ended up in the "problematic kid" category. At some point the subjects got more interesting and my grades improved. So many children are unnecessarily diagnosed with learning disabilities without considering that school can be daunting. Why is it acceptable to be bored out of your mind in class, when there are more stimulating ways to convey knowledge?

With everything happening in the world this summer: Do you believe that social hierarchy structures are genuinely being reconsidered? 

Hopefully. After the lockdown my first contact with people was at the Black Lives Matter protest. The atmosphere was peaceful and hopeful until the police got involved and provoked violence. At least during these times we can't avoid problems or distract ourselves from them as easily as we usually do. It seems that the pandemic provided us with a new sense of clarity: we don't want to go on like this. 

The trailer of "Wonder Woman 1984" represents the optimism of the 80s. That almost makes one feel nostalgic nowadays. 

That holds true. It's two hours of happiness. Patty Jenkins, the director, managed to make a movie full of positive messages. We shot in Washington, D. C., then in London and Spain - which now sounds like a different time. 

Do you miss travelling? 

I've only now realised what a privilege it is to just pack up your things and fly anywhere. With an American passport you can travel freely. And that's why the small radius we live in now is kind of absurd. Over the last few years I often retreated in between takes, because I was always on the road and overstimulated. Friends complained about how comfortable I had become. We all took social interactions for granted and realise now how reliant we are on human connection. Now, I wistfully think about all the party and dinner invitations I declined in the past. 

In L. A., people spend more time indoors or in nature than in other metropolises. Could this city become your safe haven after New York City? 

My true home is my friends. Ever since I was young I've lived the life of a nomad and haven't set roots anywhere. Until recently, my physical home was a place for arriving and leaving and hence I didn't want to overcomplicate living by owning lots of things. The opposite actually: Without having read Marie Kondo's book, I got rid of all the stuff that was unnecessary and lived a very minimalistic lifestyle. 

Is there something you collect or could never say goodbye to? 

Books! I still own the literature I read during my teen and university years. Recently I found a box of old theatre scripts and materials back from my uni days at NYU. I can't separate from art either, same as lamps or old pictures. Furniture and clothes are no problem though, they can be chucked. 

Do you remember any roles that were defined by their costumes? 

Yes, "Game of Thrones" comes to mind immediately. During that time I first understood what it means, as an actor, to be supported by a look. I owe that to costume designer Michele Clapton. She developed these very feminine robes and brocade cloaks for my role that looked very masculine when I wore them. I felt sexy in them. And very important were of course Lindy Hemming's power suits and Jan Sewell's blond hair for the tycoon villain Maxwell Lord in "Wonder Woman 1984". Relating to the style, I couldn't really see myself in the role since the shapes and colours of the 80s don't really fit my body. My type is the 70s.

Do you adopt such inspirations into your private closet? 

At this point in time, I'll choose any comfortable outfit over a cool look. Sometimes I mourn the days when I defined myself with fashion. It's a bit mad when I think about how, in the 90s as a teenager, I would go to raves; a proper club kid with crazy outfits: overalls, chute trousers, soccer shirts and a top hat like in "The cat in the hat knows a lot about that!" by Dr Seuss. Later in NYC I was part of a group that placed immense value on wearing a certain style. The fact that I only walk around in joggers nowadays is actually unacceptable! 

Normally, actors who work on comic screen adaptations become bodybuilders and eat ten boiled chicken breasts per day. You don't? 

My body wouldn't be able to handle that. I find it difficult enough to maintain a minimum level of fitness. As of your mid 40s, you suddenly need a lot more discipline. Until the tooth incident happened, I worked out a couple of times a week with a trainer to keep the quarantine body in shape. 

What would annoy you the most, if you were your own roommate? 

I can be very bossy. I have to gather all my goodwill not to force my movie choice on to everyone else. When I want something, I'm not passive aggressive about it, I attack head on. Also, I can get caught up in tunnel vision: When i feel down, I can't imagine that I'm ever going to feel better again. I have difficulty with seeing the bigger picture when experiencing problems or emotions. Method acting really wouldn't be my thing. That's why I try to only work on projects that feel good and where people encourage and lift each other up. 

While you were trying on the outfits you pointed out a lack of self-esteem. How does that coincide with your career? 

Isn't it interesting how traits and circumstances go hand in hand? Self-esteem comes from the inside, but it's also influenced by what society believes. We use critical stares from the outside against ourselves. I lived in New York for 20 years, I studied there and worked as a waiter up until my mid 30s, because I couldn't live off acting. It was always so close. The disappointment of always just barely missing a perfect part or opportunity is exhausting. When is the right time to stop trying and what's plan b? That's not just a question actors ask themselves, but anybody who struggles to earn a livelihood - unrelated to how much potential they have or how close their dream may seem. We are beginning to see now how our narrow definition of success is destroying our communities. At the same time, it's becoming obvious that, until this day, your family background and skin colour determine your chances of living a dignified existence. 

What are the positives of becoming a leading man later in life? 

I have the feeling that I've got control over my life - without the pressure of having to accept projects or be a social media personality. That surely also has to do with the fact that I'm a man. Women are surely pressured to appear quirky at any age. 

Life is always a management of risks - especially at this time. For what would you risk losing something? 

Usually, if you don't play the game you're not going to win anything. That applies to friendship, love, work, creativity. Anything that really means something to me, is worth the risk. 

Wonder woman 1984 will appear in cinemas 01.10. The 800 million dollar earning DC comic franchise is moving into the New York 80s with its sequel. It looks spectacular - only Pedro Pascal with blond hair in a three piece Wall Street suit looks better.

[k-popmakesmyday]

A/n: the way this started as a blurb and then just made it’s way to 2k 🥲It’s gonna be a oneshot now but i’ll make into a fic later 

💌 • 6:04 pm

The time was around 6pm when you decided that you had given up on true love once and for all, sighing as you launched your packed bag (an action that would most conveniently slip from your memory the next time you gracefully overslept and needed to throw yourself out the door with that same bag) off to a corner of your apartment, as if throwing away your emotions all together. You dared not to glance at the empty corner of your bedroom where your blankets usually lay neatly stacked ready for top-tier cuddling whenever the occasion should arise. So you took to propelling your body face-first onto your bed, your own constant, warm safe-haven - ready to console you whenever you couldn’t face the world. 

And there you lay, with furrowed eyebrows as you fought with the urge to express your sorrow by helplessly sobbing while clutching you pillow for dear-life. ‘It’s nothing, stop being so dramatic, y/n’, you mumbled over and over as your voice creeped ever higher with each lie you forced out. 

It wasn’t nothing. 

You flat-out rejected the salty tracks that raced down your cheeks, cursing as you felt overwhelming betrayal while they revealed your secret to no one in particular, however your inner turmoil raged at the sign of you admitting the reality of the past hour or so. Curling into a small ball, you tried to offer yourself comfort in any way you could - yet truthfully you knew it was hopeless as it made to be no match for his comfort, the way he’d wrap you up in his arms and move his hands gently over your skin as he caught your tears in his warm hands, as if the simple action could allow him to take the pain away. 

But no, you weren’t going to think about him. 

Meanwhile, in a realm of comfort not far from your own, Felix sat crosslegged on the smooth, laminate floor of his shared dorm. ‘WHOO’-ing in victory as his blonde companion who was barely a day older than him pelted the undeserving controller away from his body in disgust. It’s brief descent making a rather ugly skidding noise as it collided with the entertainment unit, the boy huffed out his squirrel-like cheeks as he mumbled something about how the intense-sounding playlist the younger boy appointed as background was distracting him.

Felix only turned to look at his friend with a smug grin on his face, “I believe that makes 5-1 to Felix Lee!”, he exclaimed, “Need to step up your game, mate.”, the dusty-blonde smirked as he leant back against the base on the leather couch.

“Whatever, it’s exhausting playing with you.” Jisung scowled at his younger friend as he heaved his exasperated body off the ground and reached his arms up towards the ceiling to regain feeling in his many limbs that had taken to falling asleep during the gaming tournament. “What time is it, anyways? Feels like a day since I saw the sun”, the older boy forced out through a yawn.

The boy in question could only offer incoherent ‘I’s and ‘uh’s in return as he stumbled to his feet, hastily shrugging a jacket over his shoulders. Seungmin, who had conveniently just come out of the shower and happened to stumble across the scene, exchanged a bewildered look with Jisung before turning back to Felix. The two observed their brother with amazement as he struggled to shove his foot into his navy-blue trainer, the action resembling a fish out of water as he desperately hopped around on one foot. If Felix’s friends weren’t so concerned at the present moment they’d be recording his peculiar antics, ready to never let him forget. But rather they were left with puzzled looks as the front door slammed, endless, unanswered questions lingering in the air. 

Felix trusted knocking to be useless in a situation with a severity such as this one, he hastily struggled to wade through the endless puzzle of his keys before he jammed the spare key you had given him into the lock, slowing his pace slightly as he entered into your home. He knew as soon as he stood in the living room how badly he had messed up - your sadness lingered in the air protruding from your bedroom, taking blows to his own chest with each step as he found himself quite breathless. 

The chocolate-eyed boy first found your abandoned overnight bag, taking a deep breath before spilling its contents. Felix’s regret glared up at him in the shape of your blankets, pyjamas and packed lunches you had prepared for earlier in the day. He quickly tore his gaze away from the endearing note you had stuck to his sandwiches, not bearing to withstand another reason to feel impossibly worse. 

Felix tip-toed into your room as if he were afraid to wake you, yet he knew he had to talk to you - and, god, was he in for it. The boys throat tightened at the sight of you, as if it were punishing him for being so careless. He could only stare as you lay curled up in a state of uncomfortable sleep, clinging to the pillow he usually slept on. He slipped off his shoes and jacket, desperately prolonging waking you up and seeing the heartbroken look grace your soft features, he slowly knelt down and brushed your hair behind your ear, the action revealing the sheer amount of crying you had partaken in before his arrival. 

Unfortunately for Felix, you had not nearly slipped into a deep enough sleep to gain some proper rest, so the action caused you to stir and have your eyes flutter open, those who had puffed up full of emotion, their betrayal presenting itself front and centre with the harshest shade of red. The remorseful boy watched as your face convulsed into one of distaste as you quickly sat up and looked away from him. 

“I don’t want to talk to you, get out.” you croaked, voice thick with sleep and tears as you lied to the boy in front of you.

“Baby I am so.. so sorry-”, he reached out a hand to hold yours, eyes desperately searching your own when you yanked your hand away from him.

“You should’ve called,” you breathed as you fixed your gaze on the minuscule cracks in your ceiling, as if your tears would become distracted by them as you spoke not only to the boy in front of you, but to yourself. “If you’re busy, o-or if you don’t want to go out with me, just tell me”

You didn’t stop your ranting at the boys “baby, no i-”, unknowingly cutting him off as you let out the thoughts and insecurities that had been poisoning your mind all day. “- just don’t make plans and let me get all excited and stupid and then.. leave me to wait at the park by myself, with things for a picnic date and a sleepover.. looking like an idiot.” 

The boy in turn once again reached out to console you, realising he could spend his entire life searching and never find the right words to possibly comfort you in that moment - but as you weakly pushed your heart away from your body, Felix felt his own shatter into a million pieces at your confession. 

“It’s not stupid, y/n, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have called, i should’ve been there, like I promised. I would never leave you alone on purpose, i just forgot because, well. i don’t even know why. I know you don’t want to hear what I have to say right now but i promise,” he paused to look you straight in the eye, the seriousness being unusual in your easygoing relationship. “I promise i will make it up to you.” he sighed at the lack of response, yet he knew he deserved nothing less, and moved to his feet. “I know you need space so.. i’ll leave you alone, okay? Call me if you need anything, anything at all, i love you-”

The rambling Australian’s words were caught in his throat when he felt a warmth encase his wrist, he looked down at your hand and back up to meet your eyes, sporting a puzzled gaze as you sniffled. 

“Stay. Just because I can’t sleep without you.” 

Your words earned a small smile from the latter boy as he inwardly gushed over your adorable manner, he wasted no time slipping under the covers and embracing you in his arms in a silent apology, although he knew it would be one of many. Not only did he curse himself for being so forgetful, but he also felt his heart shatter at your assumption of him missing your one-year anniversary celebration purposefully. He shut his eyes and screamed at his imagination not to picture you sat on the picnic blanket all by yourself, suppressing tears as you avoided the invading gazes of passerby’s (who could easily have guessed what happened - your asshole of a boyfriend stood you up, how were they to know it was unknowingly?)

Felix had lost count of the amount of times he had attempted to drift off, never fully falling into sleep as the guilt stood in the back of his mind, nagging and mocking him constantly. The sun was finally starting to seep through the curtains as the boy decided that his torturous night’s ‘sleep’ should come to an end as he carefully removed his arms from around you and got up. Grabbing one of his hoodies you’d stowed away in your wardrobe as he made his way out to the kitchen, not forgetting to re-tuck you in before he left. 

It was some hours later when you finally announced your consciousness to the world, you dragged yourself into your ensuite to find your eyes impossibly filled to the brim with dry tears, stabbing at your fragile eyes as you began to wash up for the day. You wandered into the kitchen to be met with a sweet, inviting aroma, one that reminded you of... your birthday? Letting out a tiny gasp, you silently sat down at the breakfast bar as you watched your flour-covered boyfriend finishing piping icing on his last cupcake, before he turned around and screamed at the sight of you.

“AH!”, he scrambled to cover your eyes, “you weren’t supposed to see these yet!” His lips forming an adorable pout as he threw his arm by his side in a child-like manner. “I was gonna bring you breakfast in bed except.. it’s cupcakes”

You smiled as your heart melted at the thought, pressing a soft peck to his cheek, whispering “i love it” loud enough so that only he could hear. Despite the two of you being alone in your cozy apartment, you outright rejected the thought of anyone else getting in on the words meant for only each other.

He sighed in defeat as he presented you with a plate of slightly messy cupcakes adorned with vanilla buttercream swirling magnificently on top of each one. They may not have been the best dressed baked goods you’d ever seen, but there was no doubt in your mind that every little cake was made with the utmost care and love, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 

“I know it’s not much but... i just wanted to say how sorry I am for yesterday. This, obviously, doesn’t make up for it but if you’re feeling up to it.. we could go on our date today? I’m just so sorry baby, this isn’t enough, but it’s a start, right?” he looked up at you with hopeful, doe eyes as you nodded and pulled him down to sit next to you. 

“We’re gonna be okay, right?” the exhausted boy murmured to you, making you reply with a reassuring kiss on his temple. 

“Yeah, Lix, we’re gonna be just fine.”