#I might have shed a few tears. He introduced me to this fandom and talks to me in LOTR talk a lot to get things through my head.

[autistook]

My friend and I were talking about my depression today, since he was here to look after me since the morning and is still here at 11pm:

Me: I feel like Frodo at the foot of Mount Doom. I can't recall the things that feel good. There's just this burden in my chest no one else can feel, but can see it slowly destroy me. It feels impossible to go forward, you know?

My friend: Well, you know my role in that scene. We'll get back to the Shire.

[bundleofyarrow]

requests open!

new milo x reader content appears! hello world, i'm fresh to the pokemon fandom trying out writing fanfiction for the first time. i've started the first few chapters of my milo x reader over at AO3 called A Bundle of Yarrow. i'm also taking requests for general milo x reader imagines or longer scenes that can fit into ABoY's universe. while i will be writing the main storyline, i thought it would be fun to make a part of it collaborative and have other milo x reader fans send in ideas for scenes that fit between chapters. check out the rules page for more!

i'm new to all of this, so people feel free to comment or message me with suggestions. the link to the fic on AO3 is above, but in case you prefer reading on tumblr, below the cut is the first chapter. just a heads up, it starts in leon x reader land but moves into milo x reader as the story progresses.

enjoy!

Chapter 1: Postwick

Galar is a land of hills. Or at least, Postwick is, and it’s just about the only thing you’ve seen since you arrived. Soft curves of verdant green, sometimes tawny gold with a bale of hay or two. There’s a sign around here that says this is a farming town since days of yore, and the near constant whines of Wooloo are determined to never let you forget it. Lying on one such hill, almost completely vertical, you oversee the main road were balls of wool roll where they please. You feel transported, like you’re viewing another planet from some place outside.

The giddy hollering of children and Pokemon at the house not far away pulls you back to earth. A young girl bounds up to you with an anxious-looking blue creature in her arms.

“Look! It’s my new Sobble~ Leon got it for me! Isnt’s he great?”

Your cousin’s bright eyes implore you to sit up, propping yourself on your right arm once you realize one of your legs has fallen asleep.

“He’s adorable Gloria.”

You lean in closer to take a look, you’ve never seen a Pokemon like this before. The Sobble turns his face into Gloria, clearly shy and overwhelmed.

“It looks like he’s already taken to you!”

She looks down and holds him closer, beaming, rocking slightly.

“It’s okay, this is my cousin. That means part of our family!” Gloria turns slightly so her Pokemon can safely peek out at you. “I’m sure he’ll warm up to you too!”

You give the Pokemon your softest smile, and while he doesn’t completely warm up to you, he leans in a little to get a better look at you. Baby steps.

“Oh yeah, I also came here to say that dinner’s ready!”

The sound of sizzling meat and peppers hasn’t escaped your notice, but now the smell entices you to go and socialize with the family neighbors. Gloria shuffles back down the hill towards the fanciest house of Postwick, where the Champion of Galar and his family lives.

You take your time getting up and brushing off the grass from your clothes. A breeze rolled over the hill, reminding you that your Alolan wardrobe is way too thin for Galar’s climate. As you climb down, you see the neighbor boy, Hop, waving skewers at you before turning back to his bunny Pokemon, who kicks up some embers to give the meat a little extra char. You try to put on a smile as your auntie puts food in your hands and introduces you to everyone. It’s hard not too feel awkward, being not only new to this group of people but to this entire region, but you genuinely are looking forward to having the best time you can while you’re here. Eventually the adults get distracted by Hop’s antics, where he ropes in Gloria to do yet another trick with their new Pokemon. You sit down at the table nearby and just watch for a bit.

If you had been distracted, you wouldn’t have noticed the pair of big eyes pop up from the side of the table, topped with green tufts of hair shaped like leaves. You must have had quite the expression of surprise on your face when a little orange hand darted towards your food, because two bigger hands immediately scooped up the trickster before he could make off with your food.

“Now now Grookey, that’s not champion behavior!”

The admittedly cute Pokemon flailed in Leon’s grasp for a bit, shedding some fake tears until he was given a wedge of grilled Mago berry.

“Sorry about that, this little one is quite the handful around food.” He tried to seem stern but you could tell he was more amused. “He didn’t startle you too badly, did he?”

You strangely don’t feel that shy around Leon. It feels like you should be more star-struck, but maybe because this is the first time you even really knew he existed, he came off more as an ordinary guy with a flair for the dramatic. He seemed like a nice guy, wanting to give everyone a little attention, which also made him seem a bit spread thin. But you could see him start to settle as the light faded from the sky and fans stopped coming by to cheer at him.

“Oh not at all, I was just a little surprised! If I wasn’t paying attention, he would have be feasting like a king.”

The Grookey pouts as you let out a light chuckle, taking a finger and lightly rubbing his forehead.

“And have a massive stomachache tomorrow that I would have to deal with!”

Leon says everything with a little bit of a laugh, and his eyes seem like they are permanently smiling. He looks between you and Grookey while seeming in thought.

“You’re staying here in Galar for a while now, yeah? What are your plans?”

You slide over a bit to let Leon sit next to you as he sets Grookey on the table between you. His cape and hair make him seem larger than he is, and talking with him at eye-level feels like talking to Leon, the person not Leon, the Champion.

“I’m not entirely sure to be honest. I just had to…” You’re never sure what to say about your past, and the uncertainty of your future. “…get away for a bit. Maybe start over, find a clean slate.”

The breeze picks up again and you feel the sleeve of your shirt slide a little down your shoulder, exposing some skin. You don’t realize that you should be embarrassed about it until you catch Leon’s gaze eyeing your collarbone and then quickly looking back to the Grookey. It was common to show skin on the hot coasts of the Alolan islands, but as you take a look around, everyone around you is more covered up.

“I’d like a bit of adventure, I think.” You say absent-mindedly as you readjust your top, oblivious to Leon fidgeting a bit.

“Ah, well-” He moves in his seat again, “what do you think of this here Grookey?” Leon rests a hand on his head and lightly rustles it. “I think you two might get along!”

This took you by surprise, the last thing you were expecting was to be offered a foreign Pokemon.

“O-oh really?? But I thought you were going to train him to become a part of your champion team or something?”

He smirked at ‘or something,’ as if entertained by your complete lack of interest in the most popular Galarian sport.

“That was the plan, but you said you wanted some adventure! Can’t get around many places here without a Pokemon. Being a trainer lets you travel a lot here in Galar. Maybe you’ll get to compete in the upcoming Gym Challenge if you’re up for it!” He grinned some more here. “Who knows, maybe you’ll end up facing me in the end. Wouldn’t that be an adventure?”

You laughed a bit, shaking your head but trying to show an appreciative face. “Me? Be a trainer? And a good enough one to face you?? You’re funny.”

Hop has already regaled the crowd at dinner about how excited he is for camping in the Wild Area, hiking through ruins and snow, getting lost in haunted forests. You’ve never been one for the outdoors, and don’t think moving regions would change that.

“That’s kind of you, and he is cute. But that wasn’t the kind of adventure I was thinking of.” You smile at them both. “I appreciate you though!”

Leon seems a little confused at first, but recovers quickly and nods. Eventually the kids come over still hollering over Pokemon, and Hop quickly begins to monologue about his favorite topic: Leon, his brother. Hop drags you inside once he realizes how little you know about Galar’s Gym Challenge, Gloria and Leon trailing behind, with the former happy to be spared from the lecture about the Champion for once. You all found yourselves in Leon’s room, Hop showing you different magazines and eagerly pointing at different pictures of his brother’s most memorable fights. The trophies throughout the house and the weights in his room really do scream Champion. Is there ever a moment when he's not? Eventually Hop decides that Gloria and himself need to look up more information on their new Pokemon, and pulls her away into his room, leaving you and Leon alone.

The Champion, who really just seems like a man rather than a god to you, sheepishly rubs the back of his head and shrugs.

“Sorry about that, once Hop gets going, it’s hard to make him stop.”

He begins to collect all the magazines his brother pulled out and carefully places them back where they belong. It just hits you now how carefully organized everything is, and how little escapes his attention. You notice all the hats neatly arranged around his room, walking up towards the rows of shelves and scanning all the different kinds he owns.

“I like your collection.” You mean that, you’ve always enjoyed window shopping at boutiques and spotting people who took fashion seriously. “If I didn’t just hear everything your brother told me, I’d think you were the Champion of Streetwear.”

His chuckle comes from right behind you, startling you a bit. Turning around, you meet his intense and mischievous gaze.

“Adventure, huh?”

He steps a foot towards you, and you instinctually press back against the dresser behind you. Leon closes the distance between you and meets your lips with his, only making your heart race faster. What is happening?? You melt into the kiss, I mean, this is the Champion we’re talking about here, and go along with his lead. He doesn’t draw it out or take it too far; it wasn’t a sweet kiss but one of intrigue.

Parting just moments away from your lips, he breathes out a “You’re so different, too bad-”

“KIDS? Are you up there!? It’s getting late and time to go home!”

The moment is broken by a yell from your auntie, and the shuffling of feet all over the house makes Leon swiftly give you some space. You’re still a bit flustered, and confused honestly, but you know to shyly smile in these situations.

“Pity we won’t be seeing much of each other, now that challenge season is on.” He takes your hand and guides you off his dresser and towards the threshold of his room. “But I hope you find that thing you’re looking for.”

He winks as Gloria pops her head in and calls for you, and watches her take your hand to pull you away. You wave to Leon, not really knowing what to say.

Outside it is dark, the faintest hints of dusk dropping further behind the hills. Butterfree flutter from tree to tree, and your aunt’s Budew are nestled in the front yard. All you can hear are Gloria's footfalls up towards her house and the thumping of your heart against your chest. Your cousin is quite tuckered out from all the excitement, and you only stay up a little with your auntie with the family’s Munchlax resting in your lap. She asks the usual ‘how are you adjusting’s and ‘do you think you’ll enjoy it here’s, and you begin to think you made a mistake turning down Leon’s offer. Eventually you take Munchlax over to the guest bedroom and nestle into bed, hoping to understand what you’re supposed to do in this new land.

~*~*~*~

The sounds of yelling and Pokemon cries jolts you from your sleep. It takes you a couple moments to realize an organized battle is going on, rather than some emergency.

“How do people get used to battling happening all the time?”

Yawning, you pawed the blankets of the bed until you found the lump that was Munchlax.

“Rise and shine, if I have to wake up, so do you~” Groans of protest shuffled under the covers, only twisting more into a warm cocoon. “Well, don’t blame me if auntie doesn’t prepare you breakfast.”

You hear frantic scrambling as you leave bed and head towards the kitchen, where your aunt is already drinking tea and checking her phone. You exchange usual pleasantries, making toast for yourself and ducking out to take a shower as soon as you could find a way to excuse yourself.

Eventually you find yourself wandering out of the house and into the late-morning air, smelling greenery and hay as usual. You notice a Wooloo hitting itself into a nearby gate, and shrug it off. 

Walking down the main path, you see Hop containing a tantrum within himself as he stands over his fainted Scorbunny. It looks like Leon is giving Gloria and Hop a speech of sorts, something about being rivals, and you’re able to pass by with a wave. Leon nods at you with a cordial smile, not at all seeming like a man who kissed you the night before. It seems like in public, he always needs to be the Champion. 

Unsure of how you feel about that, you decide to pick a new resting spot, down closer to Route 1.

[slightlyobsessedwithstories]

I Can't Believe It's Over

Summary: Steven watches his favorite series come to an end and talks to Connie about it.

Notes: Look it's fluff. That's it it's just some comfort that's still very much needed even if it has been over a week now. Also it's around 1800 words.

 Steven was fixated on the screen before him, dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep. The first rays of sunlight shined through the window as one of multiple alarms rang. 

 'It's almost here! It's almost here!' he thought as he turned off almost all of the 10 alarms. It was the final episode of his favorite series, Crying Breakfast Friends! 

 Well, technically CBF! ended a few years ago and this was its epilogue series, but still, it was practically the sixth season of the show.

 He usually woke up at this time, but he's been up all night, theorizing how Spilled Milk could solve all of their problems, especially with Glum Glass (who he shipped them with.)

 He was just so excited that he stayed up all night. He kept floating anyway, so it's not like he could sleep on the ceiling. He was up all night, sharing his theories and headcanons while looking through some of the fanart that have come from the episode that was released last week.

 He still couldn't believe it was the last episode, it's been running for years. He can still remember the first episode like it was yesterday.

 One last alarm rang as he opened a streaming app that made him watch with fellow fans, whatever happens next he's sure it would be good.

 An hour and many, many tears later, Connie was calling him for their bi-weekly breakfast together. However Steven was still in bed, a river of tears streaming down his face as the credits rolled.

 He was literally crying over Spilled Milk, but that really isn't important right now.

 He wiped his tears on the sleeves of his pajamas and went downstairs to wash his face. His eyes were still a bit puffy, but maybe Connie wouldn't notice.

 Steven went back toward the bed, sinking a bit. He took a few deep breaths, and finally answered her call.

 "Good morning, Steven!" Connie greeted. She was in a diner, judging by the tables and chairs behind her. It was close to full and people were having different conversations, but it wasn't too loud that he couldn't hear her.

 "Morning, Connie," he yawned right after greeting her, hoping to mask his sadness with tiredness.

 It didn't work. Connie has started to be concerned, "Steven? Are you alright?"

 "Yeah I'm fi—"

 The universe has a cruel sense of irony, it seems. As he was only midsentence as he saw the glass of milk and the plate filled with fried eggs and crispy bacon and started to sob again.

 "I-I can't believe it's over!"

 He shuts his mouth, was that too loud? He covers his face with the pillows until he hears Connie talking. She's awkwardly explaining to the people around her; he wipes some of the tears with his sleeve while he apologizes for shouting.

 Connie goes back to her seat, visibly relieved. Whether it's because she doesn't have to talk to another stranger or because she knows what's happening with him, it's unknown to him. Maybe it's a little bit of both.

 She turns to Steven and asks one question with a knowing look in her eye, "Your favorite series just ended, didn't it?"

 "Wait... how- how did you know?" 

 "I know how that feels," she ate some of her bacon and continued, "I've read so many novels, The Spirit Morph Saga was just one of many books I've obsessed for years!"

 Steven listened to her every word as she gushes about some of her favorite books. It's been years since he heard of it, he still remembered Connie introducing him to the saga. He still loves the ending to this day, though he doesn't know if she still feels the same about the ending years later.

 "Oh, sorry I got into a tangent there."

 "It's okay, I love hearing you being so passionate."

 There was a slight blush on her cheeks; she proceeded to drink the milk to hide it. "So..Anyways, what was the name of the series that just left you in tears today?"

 Now it was his turn to be embarrassed, how exactly is he going to explain that he's been watching a cartoon for the past six years? He doesn't know what kind of shows she's watched!

 But she wouldn't judge him for that, so might as well just say it, "It's Crying Breakfast Friends."

 "I thought that show ended years ago?"

 "Well, yes, but technically no, so the original show, Crying Breakfast Friends did end a few years ago, but its epilogue series, Bawling Brunch Friends ended today."

 "So... were you satisfied with the ending?"

 She was answered with more tears, "It was so bittersweet!"

 Okay, now she needed to be there with him. "I'm going to finish up here, okay? I'll be there in a minute!"

 Connie ended the call, finished her breakfast, tipped the waitress, and ran outside to Lion all under one minute.

 A portal opened up in the beach house's living room with Connie and Lion going out from it.

 "Thanks, Lion," she said while giving his mane a few pats. He gave a cute little smile and proceeded to sleep near the sofa. 

 Of course she had to give him some pets, besides it was only a few seconds till a full minute passes and she ran up the stairs.

 She knows the feeling, sure she wasn't as sentimental when some of her favorite series ended, but she knows how empty it feels at first.

 She wonders how Steven's handling it.

 ...

 Just the sight of his bed tells it all.

 It's a bit messy and tear-stained, the impression of Steven has been there for a while making the teen that was on the bed sink even further into it. Near the pillows were some toys and old plushies of the characters in the show, Steven himself holding two of them in his arms while under his comforter.

 He was clutching the plushies of a carton of milk and a glass, keeping them close together. He hasn't noticed that she's here, but to be fair she hasn't spoken a word since she came up.

 "Hi, Steven." He freezed up for a second, but he was still silent. "Mind if I join you in there?"

 She saw his head nodding and making some space for her; she joined him under the covers.

 He was looking at some fanart of all the characters together, waving goodbye at the audience as the words, "Thank you Samantha Pepper!" appear above them.

 "So.. I remembered seeing a few episodes." Connie shifted closer to Steven, "It looked like a fun, silly cartoon from some of the episodes I've seen."

 He chuckled at that, a bit too much judging by Connie's confused reaction.

 "It was a fun, silly show at first. I rewatched the whole series preparing for this, and wow, there was a lot of stuff that went over my head."

 "Just how serious this show is after the first season, all of the foreshadowing, each character's arc and how much they've changed compared to now!"

 "I want to tell you everything, but at the same time I don't want to spoil stuff." Steven's started to float while he was talking and he hasn't noticed yet. "There's just so much that's better appreciated when it hasn't been spoiled and I haven't even talked about—"

 "Steven, the ceiling!"

 He looks up and floats in place, just inches away from hitting his head. "Thanks Connie." Steven starts to float down.

 "No problem."

 "Why didn't you stop me when I was starting to float?"

 Now it's her turn to fluster him, she gave a shy smile and said, "Sorry Steven, I was distracted with how cute you are when you're passionate."

 He was so flustered that his powers failed him at that moment and he fell on the bed, bouncing both him and Connie a few times.

 They were both giggling as they laid together on the bed. Steven teasing Connie about using the line he used earlier... until they notice the mess that was made and cleaned it up.

 "This show means a lot to you, huh?" she says as she collects the toys that fell onto the floor.

 "Yeah... I miss it," Steven helps in collecting the plushies. He grabs the Spilled Milk and Glum Glass plushies and keeps them together.

 They both help each other in fixing the comforter on the bed and laid back on it.

 Connie can hear him sniffling right next ro her. Guess he's skipped the other stages of grief and went headfirst to depression.

 "Why did it only sink in now? I'll never see these characters again!"

 Okay, that's it. She needs to tell him this. She turns Steven around, looking him in the eyes.

 "You can always rewatch the show, right?" A nod.

 "You can always make your own fanart, right?" Another nod.

 "And there's also other people's fan creations. Sure, the show's over, but people would still create more stories and art with these characters." Tears have stopped.

 "You can love and appreciate all of the content creators in that fandom and their creations, right?" A small smile. She's getting to him.

 "And even if it's over, you know that the show would always be with you, right?"

 "Connie, I thought you didn't like being saccharine?"

 "Steeeven," she was teasing him, and she knows he is too, "I'm trying to comfort you."

 "I know, just wanted to hear you say it, because you like me." They were giggling again, but when they were finished he was staring at her with a smile, "Thanks Connie."

 "You know I'll always help you, Steven," she smiled back at him.

 "Yeah, even with your college prep, you still—"

 "Wait, don't you have more stuff to do?" Steven asked, looking a bit worried. 

 "Today's Saturday, Steven." Connie reminded him.

 "Oh... yeah," he rubbed his eyes, "thought it was still Friday."

 "You stayed up all night, didn't you?"

 "Can't blame me for being excited, besides I'm not that tired."

 A yawn escapes him at the end and he settles at the bed.

 "Ok maybe I'm a little bit tired. Talk to you later?"

 "You know the usual time," she gives him a kiss on the forehead, "see you later, Steven." 

 "I'll see you soon, Connie."

 And she goes down to Lion, who just woke up.

 As Steven hears the roar of Lion's portal go out, he opens his phone and looks back on the picture of everyone in the show again.

 Connie's right, it's a part of him now. Every memory, every laugh, and especially every tear that's shed—of sorrow and of joy.

 "Thanks for giving me tears to the very end."

[dhufflebee]

binary sunset (a mileven fanfiction)

One-shot Fandom: Stranger Things Rating: Teen and Up Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: El Hopper x Mike Wheeler Characters: Mike Wheeler, El Hopper Additional Tags:  Fluff; Mike is an awkward angsty boy; El is an emotional ball of cuteness; Characters Watching Star Wars; rated T for some swearing; set between seasons 2 and 3

read on:  AO3  |  ff.net Summary: Mike shows the first Star Wars movie to El, and she is so enraptured by the binary sunset scene that Mike kinda forgets about the movie and just stares at her. A lot of thoughts and tears and softness are involved, too.

(Based on a tumblr promt I sent to someone... before resolving to write the fic myself. Who knew this couple of awkward teens would be the thing that brought me back to writing fanfiction - hopefully I did them justice.)

Mike didn’t think El’s eyes could get brighter than they already were.

He had been planning the day for a while, and he had been more and more nervous as it approached. What if she laughed at him? Rolled her eyes at him? What if she didn’t like one of his favorite movies ever? Mike knew such a train of thought was stupid, that El would never be mean to him and mock his passions, but deep down he was afraid the tiniest thing might drive her away.

She had been back for so little time that, every so often, Mike still found himself catching his breath when she appeared in his line of sight while he was distracted. He had felt so desolate and angry while El was gone, reaching out into the void every single day hoping to catch a glimpse of her spirit, hoping to find support in those hardest months, that when she had finally reappeared and he had looked at her and smiled at her and hugged her, he had felt like something (no, everything) was cracking and being put back together at the same time. And the rebuilding part wasn’t over yet: every time El laughed, or scrunched her nose, or tucked her hair behind her ear, Mike could feel a spark, like a little part of his soul was going back into the right spot inside of him.

But at the same time, the previous year had left a scar on his heart (on both of their hearts), and he feared that the slightest incomprehension, the smallest silly thing could open the wound back again, throwing him into that dark hollow place where he had suffered so much.

At that moment, though, Mike’s head was in a whirlwind, all these thoughts progressively silenced by one distinct feeling: how on heart can El be so beautiful? And how are her eyes so much brighter than ever? He caught himself staring at her sitting beside him, her knees up to her chest and her feet bare on the couch. He tried to avert his eyes, and he managed to for maybe ten seconds, during which he dazedly looked at the tv screen. The way El’s hands were resting on her ankles and the way she had draped the cotton blanket on her shoulders as if it was a cloak, though, kept drawing Mike’s attention away from the movie. Not that he cared much about Star Wars, that afternoon.

No, scratch that: Mike cared. Not really about the movie per se, but about what El would think of it. He longed to share his passions with her, to introduce her to all the things he loved (and hopefully to be introduced to what she loved, as well), and he had decided Star Wars was maybe the best place to start. The story was compelling, the characters well-rounded, and the sceneries? He could gush for hours about those three movies, and he really hoped El would be willing to listen to him after that day.

The only problem was, Mike couldn’t remember a damn thing about Star Wars. Not while he was looking at El’s hair, at the way her curls were kind of disappearing now that she was letting her hair grow, but were still visible in the loose strands that would fall around her face. And neither while he was musing on the adorableness of her nose, perfectly shaped at the center of her profile, just above those cute pink lips of hers, whose smile and shape and warmth he had missed so much and was looking forward to never miss again.

Maybe he would need to ask El for a refresh about Star Wars, all things considered. For all of Mike’s staring, she had never looked away from the screen, so focused on what was going on that she was barely breathing. Most of all, Mike was in awe of the brightness of her eyes – and it wasn’t merely a reflection of the screen, but a light that he knew was coming from inside her, a fire they were trying to rekindle together and that was slowly getting stronger with each passing day. Maybe his eyes were that bright too, when he watched Star Wars… or maybe they were at that moment, while he was contemplating El. Had the circumstances been different (hadn’t he felt so damn awkward), he would have asked El about his own eyes (jesus), but he really didn’t want to disturb her (sure Mike, that’s the reason).

The minutes were passing by, and Mike’s brain was subconsciously registering the scenes of the movie as they were unwinding. He half-heard a dialogue about a farm, a harvest, and an academy, and he knew exactly which moment was approaching. Those few notes were enough to give him goosebumps, even though this time he suspected his emotional response to the Force Theme might be enhanced by watching El being enraptured by it. There it was, a binary sunset he could recognize without the need to see it, the music swelling, and— (holy shit, are those tears? why is El crying? shit shit shit shit shit shit shit)

Mike froze on the couch. Damn, those weren’t the kind of tears he sometimes saw mom or Nancy shed in front of the tv – El was bawling. She was shaking, water falling down her cheeks and dropping from her chin, her bright eyes getting redder and redder.

“El? W-what’s happening?” Mike’s voice was as shaky as El’s shoulder, and in the back of his mind he hated that he wasn’t able to project calmness and safety for her sake, even more so in such a mundane moment.

“Oh, Mike”, El answered in a tiny voice, with her face half-buried between her knees and tears still dampening her cheeks. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to cry like this, but I really can’t help it!”

(Ah shit damn it, I’m so stupid, I should have never made her watch Star Wars without checking beforehand somehow, and now I made her relieve god knows which awful moment and she hates it and she hates me and—)

“It’s just… It’s so beautiful!” El almost yelled that last word, but her voice cracked, and a new bout of tears pooled under her eyes.

“What?” Mike was taken aback, unable to properly process El’s words while his own internal monologue was still berating him. “What?” He must have been looking silly, eyes wide open and expression dumbfounded, because El smiled a little and reached for Mike’s hand, grasping it with her own and gently tugging his arm.

Mike shook his head and looked at El’s face: her eyes weren’t actually sad nor angry nor distraught… if possible, they were shining ever more than before. He could feel himself frowning for a second, but then something clicked. “Were those happy tears? Like, that many?” He asked her, eager for an affirmative answer, hoping he hadn’t fucked up completely.

Instead of answering directly, though, El laughed, and Mike inhaled sharply, before realizing that she wasn’t laughing at him, but that it was a genuinely joyous sound. Maybe he hadn’t ruined it all, maybe he’d been stupid for doubting himself so much – and El, too.

Her fingers still entangled with his, El scooted closer to Mike on the couch, reaching with her other hand towards his forehead to smooth the lines between his brows. “Mike, hey. Those were emotional tears, but from a good emotion… I’m not really sure how to explain it but, I don’t know, that sunset, and Luke looked so lost, and that music! It really spoke to me, I loved it, but it seems like the only way I could express it was by crying?” El was fumbling with the hem of the blanket and she wasn’t looking at Mike anymore, a shade of uncertainty in her expression.

While El tried her best to explain her tears, Mike felt something warm and soft grow in his chest, something similar what he had felt the very first time he had managed to make her laugh. He smiled fondly looking at her small hands and at the spots on her jeans still wet with tears, and reached tentatively with his hand to brush El’s cheek. As soon as she felt the light touch of his fingers, she turned her head towards him and smiled, gently pressing her face on his hand. Mike loved it when El did that, feeling (hoping) she was so eager for contact as he was while his own hand cupped her cheek, her hair all over her temple and his fingers.

“Thank you for showing me that, Mike. I’m happy I saw that scene with you.”

Mike thought about telling her that he hadn’t been actually watching the movie, but he figured it would sound silly, given how much he had insisted on them seeing it together. Instead, he leaned on the backrest of the couch a bit more, positioning himself so that El could rest comfortably on him. Mike would have gladly spent the rest of the afternoon, or of the week, or of his life (woah there, okay) in that exact position, with El’s head on his shoulder and him absentmindedly playing with her hair. “Thank you for being here with me”, Mike answered, and he felt El smile against his polo shirt.

A few minutes passed, aliens and spaceships and lasers still filling the screens, but Mike wasn’t paying attention, being focused more on El than on anything else, on how good it felt to be able to hug her and touch her and talk to her. On how at home he felt with her beside him.

“Mike?” El asked suddenly, her voice a bit muffled. “Do you think we can go back with the movie a bit? We missed some scenes and I’m not sure I’m understanding everything… And I really want to watch this properly because it’s your favorite movie and I want to know every part of you and I want to love this as much as you do.” El propped herself on her arm and turned towards Mike, blushing a bit and looking him in the eyes.

Mike smiled so fondly he felt he might start to cry, the warm bubble in his chest growing even more. “Of course,” he said, before kissing her softly on the forehead (oh, this is a first, it feels nice… why have I never done this before?). He grabbed the remote and rewind the movie until just before the binary sunset scene, so that they could watch it – again, properly – together. Hopefully El wouldn’t cry again, or maybe she would and he would as well, and honestly it wouldn’t even matter, because that scene had just become his favorite one in Star Wars, and maybe some wonderful music would be the perfect cover for the tears of joy and hope and dedicated affection he felt the need to shed.

[mrslittletall]

Title: A Storm is coming (Chapter 15) Fandom: Dark Souls Characters: Chosen Undead/Dragon Slayer Ornstein, Siegmeyer of Catarina, Sieglinde of Catarina, Griggs of Vinheim, Laurentius of the Great Swamp, Petrus of Thorolund Word Count: 3.303 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16603610/chapters/48785066 Previous chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/187216779749/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-14-fandom-dark

Summary: The duo has a moment of peace at Fire Link Shrine.

(Author's note: A bit of a shorter chapter this time. Now that Seath has been dealt with, I need to set a few things up. I also wanted to explore a few headcanons. I hope you enjoy and stay with this duo at their journey to get the other three lord souls.

Also, I decided to use both the POV of Tempest and Ornstein even in a single chapter. It is far easier for me. Tell me when it gets confusing. I promise the POV will never shift away from our main characters though.)

Tempest couldn't get enough from the warm, glowing soul he cradled into his hands.

This was part of a lord soul. A real one. And he had been the one to receive it.

Granted, he wouldn't have done it without Ornstein's help. Tempest should cook his favourite meal when they had a moment of rest.

Right now, the dragon slayer didn't looked like he was eager to eat anything at all. He sat on the ground next to Tempest at the Fire Link Shrine bonfire, his helmet removed and having a rather green colour in his face.

Tempest just wanted to test if the warping powers of the lordvessel could been activated when he would have someone with him and indeed, it worked. But through this he also learned that Ornstein didn't take easy to magic teleportation.

“Are you feeling better?”, Tempest asked after a good while of silence.

“...The next time you ask before I get a surprise teleportation.”, Ornstein murmured.

Ah good, he was talking again. For a moment Tempest had been worried that Ornstein would vomit all over the Fire Link Shrine, so sick had he looked.

“...sorry.”, Tempest said, gaze locking back onto the soul he got from Seath.

“...You are awfully fond of this thing already.”, Ornstein said.

Tempest eyes lightened up: “Because it is a lord soul. A real one! I never thought I would see one, much less that I would be the one holding it in their hands! I just... have a hard time grasping it, that's all.” He looked at Ornstein and his eyes softened: “This wouldn't have been possible without your help, you know this.”

“And I already said to you, I only fulfilled my duties.”

“Still!”, Tempest said out loud. “...Say, Ornstein, don't you have a part of the lord soul too? Does your soul look as beautiful as this?”

“What? You don't expect me I can just rip it out my body to show you? That isn't how this works!”

“No, but I mean, you must have merged your soul with the lord soul part somehow, right? And haven't you seen it then?”

Ornstein looked down at Tempest, studying the face of the little Undead. He had this big curious eyes again. Biting back a sigh, he began to explain: “When I got the part of the lord soul, I indeed merged it with my own, but that wasn't done by pulling my soul out of my body. Instead, I inserted the part into my chest where it could merge with my own soul. It felt... very warm and hot, almost burning. It has been so long but I still remember it vividly...”

“You mean, it felt like if you drink soup that is still too hot?”, Tempest chipped in.

“...You know, Artorias would have really liked you.”

Both of them stayed silent for a while before Tempest spoke: “How was he? Artorias, I mean.”

It took Ornstein a while before he replied: “He was... always there when you needed him. He would always listen. He was always smiling. As nerve-racking as he could be, his presence made every day a little bit brighter. And so, as he died, my world got a little darker...”

“...I am sorry.”, Tempest said once again.

“...Don't sweat it. That was a long time ago...”

Ornstein seemed to act like he didn't care anymore, as if he was above this things, but Tempest, studying his face, seeing the frown and the glistening tears the dragon slayer tried with all his might not to shed, knew that this wasn't the case.

“...Shall we maybe take a walk around Fire Link Shrine? I can introduce you to the others.”

“Oh and how do you want to introduce me, the knight from legends who is twice the size of you humans and should instill fear in your hearts?”, Ornstein said, voice practically dripping with sarcasm.

Tempest was happy that he managed to distract Ornstein from his loneliness, but he apparently had to be complicated about it.

“I just say that you are my friend who helps me with my quest. I don't have the feeling the Undead at the shrine know a lot about Lordran. They are all from other lands.”, he said, standing up. “Are you coming or not?”

“Fine.”, Ornstein said, putting his helmet back on and standing up too. “But I leave the talking to you.”

“Great!”, Tempest smiled, heading into the directions of some stairs, but briefly froze and looked back at the bonfire.

Ornstein followed his gaze and both of them stared at the onion knight standing near the bonfire, clearly so lost in thought that they hadn't noticed the duo.

“Is that Sieglinde?”, Ornstein asked. “Doesn't feel like it.”, he added.

“No, I think that is Siegmeyer.”, Tempest said, squinting his eyes. With the same suit of armour it was hard to find out which of the knights really was in it, but that distinct sense of being absent smelled too much like Siegmeyer.

Tempest casually strolled over: “Hey Siegmeyer. I see you have made it back from Anor Londo.”

The onion knights head jerked up and when he saw Tempest his face seemed to lighten, even though it was impossible to see through the armour, his whole being just seemed to light up as he spoke:

“Well! Fancy meeting you here. You did much for me up above. I am grateful. You know, I was thinking… The gates at the old fortress… Was that your doing?“

“Um, you could say that, yes...”, Tempest replied to the question, biting back a nervous laugh. That he had opened the gates for Siegmeyer had been a pure coincidence after all.

“Yes! I knew it! It seemed like an unlikely coincidence. Well, am I fortunate! This knight of Catarina thanks you sincerely Please take this, as a token of my gratitude.“

The onion knight handed Tempest a scroll. Ornstein glanced at it and determined it as a miracle, but one he had never seen before.

“Oh, thank you very much.”, Tempest smiled. “Say, I have to tell you something!”, Tempest suddenly said but got interrupted when Ornstein laid a hand on his shoulder and just shook his head. “Oh, nevermind.”, he finished. “Say, Siegmeyer, what are you planning to do now?”

“Oh me? I'll be heading down below shortly. There's nothing worthwhile up above. No worries! Adventuring is my life; I'm prepared for the worst.“

He finished with a hearty laugh.

“Just... take care.”, Tempest said and stepped behind a corner, whispering to Ornstein: “Why shouldn't I tell him about his daughter?”

“It's better when he doesn't know. It probably is also better when this two never meet. When we see her the next time, we should just tell her that she should leave. Lordran is no place for a living human.”, Ornstein said.

It took a few seconds before the statement hit Tempest, but once it did, he threw his hands up in the air and almost shouted: “She's not UNDEAD?!”

“Little storm, not so loud.”, Ornstein hissed. “And yes indeed, she isn't. I could feel her soul power resonating within her, you Undead have a completely different feel. It is more than impressive that she made it to Anor Londo in this state.”

“I have a newfound respect for this girl.”, Tempest whispered.

“You wanted to go elsewhere before you saw Siegmeyer, so where to?”, Ornstein asked after a few minutes of silence.

“Oh right, I wanted to pay Laurentius a visit.”, Tempest called out. He led Ornstein up some stairs, heading for an Undead dressed in the robes of the pyromancers of the great swamp. Ornstein tensed at his sight.

“Hey Laurentius, how is it going?”, Tempest asked with a big smile.

“Oh, it's.. it's you. I.. I surely hope my flame was of help?”, Laurentius spoke, a sonore voice interspersed with some kind of anxiety. Though Ornstein could relate to this, he preferred to stay a bit to the side.

“It was, thank you very much. Actually, I wanted to ask you if I could get an upgrade?”

“Of... of course. Just hand me the souls I need for this.”

Ornstein watched as Tempest went to grab the souls. It was as fascinating as it was disturbing. While most people just absorbed the souls once the kill had been done, Undead only could store them. And so they were able to trade them. Ornstein saw how Tempest turned around to open up the leather vest he was wearing and touching the dark sign to channel the right amount of souls to hand over to the pyromancer.

The process looked at weird as it looked distressing for the little storm. Ornstein asked himself if maybe he shouldn't have stared. He discreetly looked away as the pyromancer took the souls, probably to add to his own stock and got to work.

“So.. who is your friend standing there?”, Laurentius asked while working on the flame. Tempest turned around to look at Ornstein.

“I met him in Anor Londo. He helps me out with my quest.”, he replied. “You know, you can come a bit closer!”, he suddenly shouted.

Ornstein winced and answered: “...sorry, fire just isn't my thing.”

“Oh, th.. that's fine, I understand.”, Laurentius said and Ornstein could hear some hurt in the pyromancer's voice. It didn't surprise him. Pyromancy was scoffed upon, especially from sorcerers, being a very primal art of casting. That Ornstein didn't want to come closer because fire reminded him of the dragon war and he could get a... rather negative reaction, he didn't dare to say.

It probably was better when none of the other residents of this shrine knew who he truly was.

The both Undead talked about some trivial things with each other before Tempest got his pyromancy flame back and said his goodbyes.

“Where to now?”, Ornstein asked.

“I wanted to visit Logan's student, Griggs.”, Tempest said. “He surely wants to hear about his master's whereabouts, don't you think?”

Ornstein couldn't argue with this, after all, he asked himself where his own master was for centuries now. Tempest ran upon a small figure dressed in the sorcerer garb of the dragon school of Vinheim.

Vinheim with their practices of dragon worship had never been very welcome in Anor Londo.

“Hey, Griggs, guess who I found in the Archives? It was Logan!”, Tempest exclaimed.

“Master Logan is safe? Oh, these are good news.”, the young looking sorcerer said. Of course there wasn't any guarantee that he was still young, just like Ornstein was hundreds of years old, the Undead could have been like this for hundreds of years too and just kept their appearance they had when they turned undead.

“He was behind bars though, your master seem to have an affinity for being caught.”, Tempest laughed. “But don't worry, we freed him and he studies in the archives now.”, Tempest gestured to Ornstein, who simply gave a small nod at his mention.

“Are you in need of any sorceries?”, Griggs asked. “I would like to travel behind Master Logan soon, but I don't want to leave you hanging after all you have done for me. And Master Logan.”

“Actually, I would like to buy that last one you offered.”, Tempest said with a grin.

“Of course, just hand me the souls.”

This time Ornstein turned around as the exchange happened and soon Tempest was in the possession of a scroll with a mighty sorcery on it.

“Why did you buy this? I don't think you are able to use this sorcery.”, Ornstein said as they walked away from Griggs.

“I made a lot of souls in the archives and just wanted to share.”, Tempest replied. “Besides, maybe I learn how to use this! You'll never know!”

“Any more people you need to visit at this shrine?”, Ornstein asked.

“Ah, not at this shrine anymore, but I would like to visit Andre, the blacksmith in the parish.”, Tempest said. “It would be quicker to warp there, but don't worry, there is a shortcut and you only need to fight three hollows to reach him.”

In secret, Ornstein was glad. Magic teleportation really didn't sit well with him. That Tempest took this into consideration made him incredibly sympathetic.

As they headed for the aforementioned shortcut, they passed another Undead, a rather burly man in the typical cleric garb of Thorolund, or maybe the armour just let him look like it. “Oh, this is Petrus.”, Tempest whispered to Ornstein and went over to talk with the man.

“Has your lady returned yet, Petrus?”, Tempest asked.

“M'lady...? I am afraid not, just where could she have run of too?”, the cleric replied. Ornstein frowned under his helmet. A sworn protector who has let his protégé run away? And was not searching under every stone for her?

“Don't fret.. I am sure you will find her.”, Tempest reassured the cleric. He didn't seem to acknowledge Ornstein's presence at all, so the two of them went on.

“This guy, he is shady.”, Ornstein whispered. “Why wouldn't he search for the lady he should protect? I think he might have abandoned her.”

“What?!”, Tempest eyes grew wide. “...your words makes sense, but... he looked so distressed.”

“He's acting. I have seen enough people like this in my life. Just... don't talk to him anymore. He isn't worth it.”

“Well, I guess so...”, Tempest said as they stepped in an elevator that took the both of them right into the church of the Undead Parish.

Ornstein hadn't been in this place in ages. The knights of Anor Londo had sometimes helped out the human population of Lordran to fight off threads, but most of the time, they had been on an Undead hunt.

Now Ornstein was sure that not a single living human was left in the land of Lordran anymore.

Like Tempest had said, the way to Andre was easy and only guarded by three very weak hollows that fell to their blades far too quickly. As they made their way to the blacksmith passing a bonfire, the constant clanging of a hammer was heard echoing in the old building.

Ornstein followed Tempest but preferred to stay out of sight of the blacksmith. He only would pique interest with the golden armour and the special weapon he wielded.

Tempest talked to the blacksmith who first noticed the crystal ember that Tempest had found in the Archives, quickly dismissing it, stating that he wouldn't be able to use it. They then talked further and shortly afterwards Ornstein could hear the distinct sound of a twinkling titanite used to reinforce a weapon. Apparently, Tempest had taken a liking to the silver knight straight sword.

After the weapon had been handed back to Tempest, Ornstein noticed that another exchange of souls happened. When Tempest came back to Ornstein he held an item in his hand, presenting it to him, asking: “Ornstein, what is that?”

“The Crest of Artorias.”, Ornstein gasped. “Why did the blacksmith had it?”

“Wait, this belonged to your friend?”

“No.”, Ornstein quickly shook his head. “It is a key that can open the door that leads to his grave. It was made by Princess Dusk of Oolacile after the grave robbers went too far. There is an alternate path to the grave, but it is long and difficult to take, so the door kept the grave rather safe the last few hundreds year.”

Ornstein fell silent after this explanation. While the door had managed to keep most graver robbers out, what it didn't had managed was to keep Ciaran's sadness out of her heart. She had died right next to the grave of her beloved.

“...Do you want to visit the grave?”, Tempest asked, concern shining in his blue eyes.

“No, not yet.”, Ornstein said. “We have to go there eventually, because that is where the friend is we need to talk to, but.. for now, let's go somewhere else.”

“Alright.”, Tempest said, pocketing the magic key. “Let's head back to Fire Link Shrine.”

“What destination have you picked out for us to head next?”, Ornstein asked.

“I was thinking heading to the catacombs... I already have been there, though I was mostly running through it screaming... The gravelord is down there, right?”

Ornstein simply nodded once they rode the elevator back to the shrine. Once they had managed to make it to the bright burning flame, Tempest spotted the familiar onion knight and said: “Oh, Siegmeyer, didn't you want to head out?”

“Idiot.”, Ornstein hissed and gave Tempest a slight hit on the head.

“You have seen my father? Where did he head to?”, the voice of Sieglinde asked and Tempest knew instantly which kind of mistake he had done.

“Uh, he didn't tell.”, he quickly lied.

“Still, thank you. Now I know he must be around somewhere here...”, Sieglinde murmured to herself.

“I sure hope you haven't doomed this girl.”, Ornstein scoffed as they sneaked away from her, in the direction of where a loud snoring sounded.

Ornstein knew the primordial serpent, knew that he was a friend of Gwyn and that he also worked closely with Gwyndolin.

And Ornstein also perfectly knew that Frampt wasn't telling the whole truth. His gaze rested on the slumbering serpent for a little while before it wandered to the little storm, cheerily hopping in front of him, heading for the cemetery.

Just a sacrifice., Ornstein thought to himself. He really had gotten too attached.

“So, the first time here I tried to get past this skeletons for an hour or so.”, Tempest said, pointing to a piles of bones on the ground. “Eventually I gave up and searched for another way. I don't even know why I was so dead set on trying to get past them.”

“Well, sounds like a typical mistake only an Undead could make.”, Ornstein said. “After all, every sane person would leave immediately and try to get to safety once they notice they don't have a chance.”

“... I surely think I could have a chance now.”, Tempest said. “Are you ready to help out, Ornstein?”

“Sure.”, the dragon slayer replied with a grin under his helmet.

After a short while every skeleton at the cemetery was an unmoving piles of bones and Tempest had picked up a comically large sword, which got determined as a Zweihander by Ornstein.

“We never used weapons like this in Anor Londo, but we had a squad using big weapons, they eventually became the black knights. We also had one silver knight named Ledo who used a giant hammer... was good friends with Havel, the stone warrior.”, Ornstein casually told. Tempest soaked up every word he shared from a world the Undead hadn't been part of.

“So how is Nito like?”, Tempest asked as they stood in front of the entrance of the catacombs.

“Hmm... Maybe I'll tell you when you manage to reach the next bonfire without my help.”, Ornstein teased, but didn't expect the little storm to take the tease serious as he practically rushed into the catacombs.

“... At least he uses a silver knight sword.”, Ornstein murmured to himself as he switched out his own dragon slayer spear for the silver knight spear he had used many years ago.

He waited five more seconds, heard the sounds of explosions and then followed Tempest into the crypt. Next chapter: https://mrslittletall.tumblr.com/post/188214925474/title-a-storm-is-coming-chapter-16-fandom-dark

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: An Internal Affair - Chapter 17 (Ao3 link)

Fandom: The Flash Pairing: Leonard Snart/Barry Allen

Summary: Leonard Snart, the CCPD Captain of Internal Affairs, is known as Captain Cold for a very good reason: He hates corrupt cops with a merciless vengeance, and once you’re on his list, you’re in serious trouble.

His next target?

A CCPD lab tech named Barry Allen who’s developed a suspicious habit of disappearing at random intervals.

—————————————————————————————————

Len is hovering by the door again, wondering if he should go in or not.

On one hand: it's Mick.

This is all so characteristic of him, really. Just when Len is losing hope, just when the doctors are starting to give up, Mick decides it’s time to defy expectations yet again and struggle his way back to consciousness in dramatic fashion. And not the momentary, illusory consciousness that Len's become accustomed to, moments where Mick's eyes would flicker open and his mouth would move in empty, meaningless syllables.

Real consciousness.

Mick's back.

He's alive, he's - not intact, no, but he's been acing all of the doctors' cognitive tests and he remembers all the facts and dates and events that he should.

He's grumpy and irritable over the food quality and friendly with the nurses while being a jackass to the surgeons and all in all is just so very Mick Rory that it makes Len want to cry just from sheer relief and having missed him so damn much.

(He may or may not have taken a few hours in a convenient hospital storage closet to do just that, father-imposed inability to shed proper tears aside; the world will never know for sure.)

So obviously Len should go in and talk to him.

On the other hand...this is Mick.

The man Len betrayed for years, being a cop without ever telling him. The man who rescued Len anyway. The man who paid the price for it.

And oh, what a price - two-thirds of his body covered in burns, now twisted into scars despite the best efforts of the medical establishment. Serious deterioration and atrophy of his muscles from being in a coma. Bed sores, a swollen throat from routine intubation, scars on his lungs, urinary tract infections...

His strong body, which he was always so proud of, decaying away around him like a living corpse - and all Len's fault.

Len was always willing to accept that bargain: that he’d take Mick's anger or hatred, whatever, anything, anything at all, as long as Mick woke up as himself. But sitting there with an unconscious man and wishing for that to happen is pretty different from actually having to walk inside the hospital room and face the music.

And so he hovers, wondering, debating, searching for some sort of sign of what he should do -

"Snart. Stop skulking around out there and get in here."

Well. That's certainly clear enough.

Len creeps into the room.

Mick is -

Mick is beautifully, wonderfully alive, and honest to God, everything else is so much less important that Len can't remember why he was so reluctant to come in.

Of course, then he tries to open his mouth and say something, realizes he has no idea what to say because months of rehearsing apologies is apparently rendered totally useless after a month of total panicked despair followed by frenzied overwhelming delight and relief, and he abruptly remembers what was stopping him.

What does he even say? How does he even start?

"Where are you showering?" Mick asks.

...on Len's list of ways this conversation could go, that wasn't really one of them.

"Showering?" Len asks incredulously.

"Showering," Mick confirms. "You like to shower in the mornings, it’s morning now, and your very friendly piece of skirt tells me you haven't left the hospital in days. So you gotta be showering somewhere here."

"There's a shower in the nurse's wing," Len says blankly. "Why - wait, what piece of skirt? Do you mean Danvers?"

"Yeah, her," Mick says. "Skirt. She was wearing one – red skirt, with mesh leggings underneath, and also a cute but very concealing sweater with the puppy holding the ice cream cone. She says you know the one...?"

Len is, in fact, familiar with that outfit; it's Danvers' go-to security blanket outfit, the one she wears when she's stressing over something. Usually over Len being dumb, if he's being honest.

Hmm. He really has been living at the hospital the past few days, hasn't he?

"Yeah," Len says. "Definitely Danvers. When'd you see her, anyway?"

His accent slips deeper whenever he's around Mick, he notices; a little less nasal overall, but affecting more words, adding more shortenings and dropping more words. A silent sign of how instinctively comfortable he is in Mick's presence, no matter how stressed he is.

"You were apparently unconscious in a chair in the hallway at the time," Mick says with shrug he aborts with a wince halfway through. "She wanted to introduce herself, set me up with a new phone and group-chat and some shit like that, have me sign some papers -"

"Papers?" Len asks sharply. He'll - deal with Mick actually having a chance to read Danvers' long-threatened group-chat logs later. As far later as possible. "What papers?"

"Apparently I've been suing the police department for being dickheads while I've been out cold and now that I'm awake she needs me to agree to keep it going," Mick says.

Len barely manages to keep from laughing. Of course Danvers would remember that lawsuit Len had some lawyer file in a fit of agonized grief right after it all happened, even though Len himself has long forgotten all about it. How had he ever managed without a personal assistant before now?

"Didn't really ask much past that," Mick continues. "You know I never miss a chance to stick it to the pigs."

Len flinches.

Right.

Trust Mick to bring up the elephant in the room right away.

Mick hates cops.

Len’s been one for years.

Mick just looks at Len steadily. "You never told me," he says quietly. "Why?"

"It wasn't true when we first met in juvie," Len says miserably, hovering by the familiar chair next to Mick's bed but not actually sitting down. "And when we hooked back up later on, started working together on jobs just once in a while, I was brand new and just absolute shit at it, paranoid as fuck. Barely even spoke to the one or two guys that did know, my handlers with the CCPD and the Feds; didn't feel safe enough. And by the time I pulled my head outta my ass, it'd been years and we were partners and I knew you hated pigs and I didn't want you to hate me and -"

Mick starts laughing.

Not in a scornful or miserable way, the way Len might have feared it would be, but actual real deep laughter of the sort he hasn't heard from Mick in far, far too long.

"What?" Len asks, suspicious. "What'd I say?"

"I thought it was 'cause you didn't trust me," Mick chokes out between belly laughs that are probably hurting him. "I shoulda known it was because you're just an idiot. Same as always."

"Hey!" Len protests automatically.

Not that he takes any offense - he knows Mick calls him an idiot because that's how Mick demonstrates affection, with friendly insults and ribbing and casual death threats.

But he's not an idiot!

At the very least he doesn't think he's done anything that qualifies him to be called an idiot at this exact moment, anyway.

"Fine, then," Mick says, getting better control over himself - probably better for his health and well-being - though he still has a giant shit-eating grin on his face. "Not an idiot. A goober that can't do social situations for shit, that better?"

"Not really."

"S'true though."

"It ain't! I can do social shit! I do social shit just fine!"

"Even when you're not conning someone?"

"Even when I'm not conning someone!"

After all, Len assures himself, Barry totally continued to want to date him even after he'd stopped trying to con him...

Maybe that's not the best example.

"Uh-huh," Mick says, looking amused. There are little wrinkles of laughter by his eyes; Len hadn't noticed those, before. Amazing what months of memorizing a person's slack unconscious face will reveal. "Lemme guess. That'd be this Barry Allen guy Danvers' chats keep mentioning."

"...you've read them."

That emotion he's feeling right now - is it horror, extra horror, or extreme horror?

Mix of all of the above, clearly.

"Oh yeah. I've definitely read them," Mick says gleefully. "But I wanna hear about it from you directly."

"Mick."

"Don't you 'Mick' me. I've got no other entertainment right now, and you know I like romance shit."

"You like pulp sci-fi and ninja romance stuff, not just romance," Len objects. "This story..."

He trails off, considering for a moment.

"Well, it ain't got ninjas," he finally says. "As far as I know, anyway, though there was a weird mention once or twice of something fucked up happening Starling, I dunno. And it might've been a bit romantic, but right now it's mostly just tragic."

"Tell me about it anyway."

"Tell you about what?" Len complains, finally taking a seat next to Mick on his bed. There's a chair, too, but chairs are for losers who don't get to sit on comfy beds with their best friends who, amazingly, appear to be forgiving them for - well, everything. How Mick can do that sort of thing, Len has no idea. "There's nothing to it. I got bored in between investigating the million and one corrupt assholes in the CCPD and find out this one guy who's been acting suspicious apparently disappeared for nine months, supposedly in a coma, but then reappeared with no damage and these amazing abs -"

"No kidding, I've seen the pics."

"Goddamnit, I’m gonna gut Danvers; those are technically evidence and she shouldn't be sharing them. Anyway, turns out he ain't corrupt, he's just a fucking superhero. Who'd have thought, you know?"

"Not really anyone's first guess," Mick agrees.

"And first I think he's okay, you know," Len continues. He's ranting. He's aware that he's ranting. He can't seem to stop himself from ranting. "Because he's kind and friendly and optimistic and he's got this stupid smile that lights up the room, but I'm thinking no way anyone's this perfect, he's gotta be up to something, but I get this idea in my head that it must be that he's investigating the superhero - this is all happening before I figure out he is the superhero, that is - so I start dating him anyway -"

"Dates go well?"

"Amazingly. He legitimately thinks my puns are funny."

"Clearly a match made in some level of punster hell," Mick says.

"Shut up, puns are funny."

"Lowest form of wit."

"Lowest circle of hell's supposed to be cold, so I guess it fits," Len says, rolling his eyes. "Did I tell you yet that he thought for a while that I was a supervillain named Captain Cold? That's my new nickname at the precinct."

"No, but that's hilarious. You always did like your cold puns. Actually, you probably didn't know it, but people – criminals, that is – sometimes called you Ice-heart Snart."

"That's...awful. I'm glad I didn't know about that."

"No kidding. Captain Cold's much better. So he thought all of that about you and dated you anyway?"

"No, he didn't realize I was the Internal Affairs guy at first; I didn't tell him ‘cause I was investigating him. Anyway - wait, where was I?"

"Amazing dates," Mick prompts.

"Well, they were," Len says. "Absolutely amazing. Best I've ever had - just talking and laughing and just being happy hanging out and all that stuff that comes right out of that romance stuff you're always on about - and then, of course, just as I start thinking that I finally got lucky, it all blows up in my face. Turns out he's just as bad as I thought when I first started looking into him, and I should be happy to be proven right except for some reason I'm not, and now I can't stop thinking about how awfully he's gonna do in prison when he finally gets sent there like he deserves. I feel like shit about it and I don't know why -"

"Of course you don't," Mick says, sounding amused. "You wouldn't."

Len eyes him suspiciously. "You say that like you do know."

No way. Mick's been in a freaking coma; how could he have figured out what the hell's going on with Len's emotional state before Len did?

"Lenny," Mick says, sounding just a bit patronizing. "I might be a blockhead, but I've been interpreting your emotions for you since juvie. 'course I know."

"You're not a blockhead," Len protests automatically, always on guard against anyone - even Mick - putting down Mick's intelligence. He hates it when people do that; Mick's one of the smartest guys he knows, even if he doesn't talk all that pretty. "You just don't got as much education as some, s'all."

Though Mick's got a point about Len's emotions.

Not that Len's going to ask him to explain.

It doesn't matter, after all, what's done is done. Who cares how he feels about it?

Who cares about understanding why Len feels like he got a shiv to the gut every time he even thinks about Barry - about Allen, damnit - and a feeling like he swallowed crushed glass but also a weird kind of happiness left over from when every thought of Barry brought him joy?

Who cares -

Len. Len cares. Len cares a lot.

"Okay, I'll bite," he says, giving in. "What the fuck is wrong with me?"

"You're in love with him," Mick says. "Obviously."

...what?

No.

Impossible.

In love? Len doesn't do love.

Len's never done love, or at least not love like that - love for Lisa, love for Mick, yes, but not the stupid sort of Valentine's Day love, the type you read about in novels that you don't admit to reading, the type that makes the world turn around you and leaves you breathless and chokes in your throat, ripping your heart out of your chest because it belongs to someone else who doesn't care as much as you care, and leaves you with an awful gaping hole in your belly whenever you think about the fact they're going to go away for good somewhere where you won't see that optimistic smile or hear that laugh or -

Shit.

Shit.

"...I really am an idiot that can't do social situations for shit," Len says aloud, realizing.

"You really are," Mick says, but he sounds fond. "Don't worry; I came to terms with that years ago."

"But I can't be in love with him," Len says, trying so desperately to shove that knowledge back under the river of denial where it came from that he doesn't even make a de-Nile pun like he usually does. "I can't! He - he's - he's done unforgivable things – kidnapping, imprisonment, solitary – literal war crimes – and he should've known better, he's corrupt -"

"Sounds to me like he made some mistakes -"

"Mistakes?!" Len yowls.

Mick holds up a hand. "Okay, fine, yeah, some of those mistakes are crimes, some might even be war crimes, but seriously, Snart, if you stopped liking someone just because they committed a couple of horrific crimes, you and me, we wouldn't be friends."

"It's not the same thing!" Len protests.

"I'm an arsonist, Lenny; I literally murder people sometimes."

"Usually as an unintended side effect," Len says dismissively. Intent matters, when it comes to criminal stuff; most of the time Mick could be blamed for nothing worse than negligent manslaughter and that's only technically murder. Len checked. "He's corrupt, Mick. He put himself out as being a hero, as someone doing the right thing, as someone upholding the law, and all the while he's doing stuff like that in the shadows...I can't be in love with someone like that, Mick. I can't. Look what corruption did to you! Look what it did to me and Lisa, when it was my dad! Look what -"

Mick catches Len's hands, which Len has been waving angrily in the air.

"Don't move like that!" Len exclaims, losing his prior train of thought immediately. "Your muscles aren't used to sudden movement; you'll hurt yourself!"

"It hurt," Mick says. "It was still worth it. Boss, you're spiraling."

"I'm - what?"

"Spiraling. My shrink told me about it; you get stuck in a mental rut and you can't get out of it, so you just go in circles, on and on, torturing yourself with all your bad thoughts. In this case, it's me." Mick squeezes Len's hands. "You've been torturing yourself with what happened to me. Except instead of thinking about it and dealing with it and getting over it, you've poured everything you feel into your war on corruption, focused so much on it that you're seeing unforgivable corruption and betrayal every way you look. But you don't gotta keep doing that. I'm here. I'm okay. I'm alive."

Len stares at Mick.

His hands, still enclosed in Mick's, start shaking. His shoulders, too, and he can't seem to make them stop.

"You're alive," Len croaks, suddenly finding it hard to talk. He’d known Mick was alive and mostly well for a while now, couple of days, but it suddenly feels like he’s learning it all over again. "You're alive. You're alive and you're talking and you're you and - fuck, Mick, I nearly lost you."

"I know."

"I can't do this shit without you," Len says, desperate now. "Any of it. Life, the universe, everything; it doesn't matter. I need you by my side, Mick. I need my partner - I need my best friend. It all turns to ash without you."

"I'm here," Mick says, strong and solid and dependable as ever. "You've got me."

"I don't -" Deserve you, Len is about to say, only he chokes on it; he never knew he felt that way. "I lied to you. For years. By omission, by commission...I put my job above our partnership. I shouldn't have. I really shouldn't have. You're more important - you're the most important. I ain't never gonna put anything above you ever again. Not work, not romance, not anything nor anyone. Not anything. I'm so goddamn sorry, Mick. Not just for what I did to you, for what happened, but for the lying. For all of it."

"You're an idiot," Mick says, and he squeezes Len's hands again. "Total idiot. Boss, it's fine. Really. I get it. I get why you made that choice - especially now that I know it was all about your issues, not about me and what you thought of me. Even before that, though, I got it. I knew you were a pig and I came to get you anyway, remember? Through gunfire and furious Families, and that's saying something."

Len nods mutely.

"I did it because we're partners," Mick tells him. "And we're always gonna be partners. Always gonna be friends, even if you do something dumb like lie to me or fall in love with a target of your investigation before you finish investigating him -"

"Hey," Len protests, but weakly. Mick has a point. A very good point.

"No matter what, it doesn't matter," Mick concludes. "You and me against the world, remember? That ain't changed."

Len nods, and turns his hands to squeeze Mick's hands back.

"Now for the love of fuck can we please stop talking about feelings?" Mick asks, almost begging. "You really don't pay me enough to be your shrink. You couldn't. You could offer me all of Fort Knox and I wouldn't be your shrink."

Len snorts, maybe a little wetly but not from tears because he doesn't do tears, and pulls back his hands. "Yeah, sure, we can stop. I think I hit my yearly quota of feelings there."

"No kidding," Mick says fervently. "You hit yours, and mine, and then mine again a few time. I'll let you off the hook this one time, just 'cause I know you've been saving it up the whole time I was out, but still, for someone who likes to say he don't got a heart, you sure got a hell of a lot to say. Oh, and don't think I didn't notice you slipping that 'ash' pun in there."

"Ash is the right word!" Len protests. "Just because it's fire-related don't mean it's always a pun!"

"With you, it's always a pun," Mick says firmly.

Len laughs. If it's a little more hysterical and sounds a bit more like sobs than it normally does, they'll both be more than willing to overlook that.

As they like to remind each other, they don’t have hearts – or at least they know to keep them well hidden.

(God, Mick is Len's best friend - how did he last so long without him? No wonder everything's been screwing up left and right while he's gone.)

"Hey, wait a minute," Mick says thoughtfully, "while we're talking about this shit, before we shove it all down the memory hole, tell me - how come you never had to turn me in? I did plenty of crimes while we were running as thieves."

"Were running?" Len echoes, alarmed, and he looks down at Mick's legs to see if something's happened to them in the last few minutes. The doctors told him Mick would get his mobility back, or at least most of it, and his legs aren't as affected as his back and shoulders. There should be no impact on his ability to run, or at least to walk quickly. Or does Mick know something he doesn't...?

"Yeah, I hear through the grapevine that you got yourself a new job," Mick says dryly. "Not much thieving to be done there. Plus I figure it might be time to retire from the whole thief thing myself, too, all things considered."

"Ah. Right. I forgot."

Metaphorically running, right, that's an option.

"Don't go forgetting you quitting crime, boss; it's a kinda big deal. You really got a business card like Skirt says?"

"Yeah, it's awful," Len says. "Stamped, embossed proof that I'm legit now."

"Embossed," Mick marvels. "Now I know I gotta retire, if you've shifted over to doing the hunting."

"I'm Internal Affairs, actually," Len says. "I only hunt corrupt cops, district attorneys, and other government employees, not criminals."

"Really? Huh. Shoulda known you'd find a loophole – crime-fighting without actual crime-fighting."

"What can I say? I'm very good at what I do," Len sniffs, smiling when Mick laughs - finally getting the double meaning that's always been there. "And, uh, about your crimes -"

"Yeah?"

"So, I might've registered you as a CI couple of years ago," Len confesses, deciding that exactly how many years constituted a couple was an open question up for debate. Couple could totally mean a decade plus. "Proper legal confidential informant for both the CCPD and the Feds. Then after a few years of that, I got you swapped over to being classified as full undercover -"

"Wait," Mick says, alarmed. "You telling me the reason all of my prison sentences were so short was 'cause the judges all thought I was a pig?!"

"You didn't care about the reason back then!"

"I'm a pig?!"

"No, you never went to police academy, you ain't a pig," Len says, rolling his eyes. "I told 'em you were working for me as a non-officer agent, and it ain't like they really care about a few arsons when they've got the whole set of Families to take down. You're a snitch at best."

Mick considers this.

"I'm okay with being a rat," he finally decides. "I like rats. They're cute. Remember Axl?"

Len does remember Mick's pet rat Axl. Mick doted on him, and even Len got pretty fond. They ended up having to find him a new owner - a woman with a gigantic rat cage that took up half the living room, which both she and Mick agreed was the right balance of pet-to-owner space (Len thought they were both nuts) - and he lived to a ripe old age with god-knows-how-many descendants.

"But seriously," Mick continues, "they actually all bought that? Didn't they ever ask you why I was willing to do all that work without being paid?"

"Well. Actually..."

"Boss. Boss, no. I know that tone of voice. You telling me I got paid? Is there some savings account somewhere with my name forged on it that you conveniently never told me about?"

"Maybe."

Mick rolls his eyes, grinning; he knows that's as good as a yes. "Anything else you'd like to tell me while we're at it?"

Len considers this. "...did Danvers' group-chat mention my cold gun?" he finally asks, reaching down and patting the piece in question. He'd been carrying it with him in case Barry tried to come confront him or something, though luckily Barry hasn't.

Barry wouldn't. He knows that, now that he's thinking a bit more calmly. Not at a hospital, certainly, but not ever. He wouldn't force his presence on Len like that, thinking he was unwanted.

"At length, yeah," Mick says dryly. "Your new baby."

"Well," Len says, ignoring that. So what if his gun is the best, sweetest girl he's ever seen, once you exclude Lisa from the calculations? "What Danvers doesn't know is that it came as part of a set - one cold gun, one heat gun."

"Heat gun? Like a flamethrower?"

"Better - it manipulates the intensity of infrared waves. You can light anything on fire."

"Boss," Mick says. "I've already forgiven you for the whole pig thing. You don't need to heap on the presents."

"You saying you don't want it?"

"You bet your ass I want it!" Mick exclaims, laughing. "Man, I'm gonna need to thank this Allen guy when I meet him; you never used to give out such good gifts."

Len flinches. Just a little, but Mick notices, of course.

"Boss?"

"You won't, uh, you won't exactly be meeting him," Len says. "Anytime...ever."

"Why not?"

"Because after I found out about the secret prison thing, I had his foster dad arrested for corruption, got warrants to search the homes of his two best friends, and got Barry suspended from his job without pay pending investigation. So I don't think he's really in the mood to talk to me."

"...shit, boss," Mick says after a long few minutes. "You sure love to put the 'over' in 'over-reaction', don't you?"

"They committed crimes," Len says defensively. "Very bad crimes. And they should've known better!"

"Boss! Ain't you the one always telling me about how intent matters? Ain't they being manipulated by some mastermind creep asshole who's good enough to be playing the Families? Even criminal courts don't consider stuff done under duress and deception to be as bad!"

Len winces. That's...not actually wrong. Sure, they committed some fairly horrific crimes and they totally should've known better, but there were some extenuating circumstances he probably ought've thought a bit more about. Any man who could play not just one but multiple Families clearly had an edge when it came to mind games - and don't think Len hasn't noticed the way Barry'd described the toxic atmosphere and emotional jibes and the almost parental relationship the guy set up in his office, which is the sort of environment that can convince even otherwise intelligent people to do seriously shady things.

It's not an excuse, not at all. But it is something of an explanation. Probably not enough to knock down the charge from primary to accessory, but a judge could definitely look at that and find lots there to help mitigate -

"Boss..."

"I know, I know! You don't understand, I was just really angry -"

"Boss!" someone that is definitely not Mick exclaims, bursting through the door. "We've found something!"

Len is off the bed, one crutch in the air wielded as a club, before they even finish the sentence, and then he realizes it's just Detective Thawne and Iris.

"Oh, it's you," he says blankly. "How'd you even know to find me here?"

"Uh," Thawne says, eying the raised crutch warily. "Ms. Danvers told us. Pretty reluctantly. You - wanna put that crutch down? You're looking a bit unsteady."

Len rolls his eyes and does, sitting back down.

"Does that work?" Iris asks. "As an improvised weapon, I mean?"

"Better than you'd think," Len says dryly.

"How come he's still got crutches, anyway?" Mick asks from his bed. "Ain't it been months since he got fucked up?"

"Apparently he keeps tearing his injuries back open," Iris says.

"Damnit, boss..."

"That's not the reason," Len says, even though he kind of does do that more than he should. "It's because the second gunshot nicked my spine and it takes lots longer to heal from that."

"And you keep tearing your injuries back open," Iris says wisely.

"...and that," Len concedes grumpily.

"I'm Iris," she adds, waving at Mick. "Iris West. This is my fiancé, Eddie Thawne. We're helping Captain Snart here investigate the disappearances -"

"Heard of you," Mick says, waving in the general direction of his phone. "Skirt – uh, Danvers – she’s got a group-chat with running commentary up -"

"I want in," Iris says at once. “That sounds amazing.”

"- but you said West, right? Didn't the boss here just..? Why you still working with him after that?"

"Because my dad deserves to get into trouble over this shit," Iris says, an angry glint in her eyes. "Between the lying and the deception and the blatant aiding and abetting of human trafficking, I'm starting to wonder if I ever really knew him at all -"

"Hold up," Len says. "Fiancé? That's new. Congrats, both of you."

That works splendidly to derail Iris, who spends the next few moments showing them both her ring while Thawne blushes and smiles and is entirely unable to look away from Iris, stars in his eyes the whole time.

"Nice," Len says. "Tasteful - pretty, but with some class."

"I'd definitely steal it," Mick agrees.

"Definitely," Len agrees. “I could fence that in minutes.”

"You're both very sweet," Iris says. "And if it ever goes missing, I'll be sure to check with you two first. Anyway, not the point! We came here to tell you that we've figured it out!"

"The Families' 'big day'?" Len asks, immediately interested. "Or Wells' connection to it?"

"Both, actually," Thawne says, brightening. "It's complicated and - well, a little frightening, but we think we have an idea of where the rabbit hole leads, at least, although I wouldn't go as far as Iris and say we actually figured it out."

"We got a good start," Iris says, with dignity. "That's further than most people've gotten."

"And you managed to do it without being 'disappeared', well done you," Len drawls.

"He means that as a compliment," Mick remarks.

"Yes, we gathered," Iris says, grinning at him. "Listen to the tone, not the words, right?"

"Sometimes the tone'll mislead you, but yeah, generally. I usually use body posture - the more lounging, the better his mood."

Len pointedly straightens back up, causing Iris to snigger, Thawne to smile, and Mick to chuckle.

"What's this about Families, though?" Mick asks. "Thought Snart was focused on corrupt cops and government people now."

"I'm sure I can find a police corruption hook somewhere," Len says airily. "You know what they say, you can take the boy out of org crime work..."

"Not a real saying, Snart," Mick says, long-suffering. "Never was."

"Actually, you might have more of a hook than we originally thought," Thawne says. "You see, the Families -"

"Plural?"

"That's right, Mr. Rory -"

"Mick."

"Mick," Iris says with relish. She's going to use this to try to get permission to call Len by his name, he just knows she is. Pity she's doomed to disappointment. "Yes, Families, plural; we've confirmed that all the Families in Central have agreed to work together on this."

"All of 'em? Shit."

"Agreed," Len says.

"Shoulda stayed in the coma..."

"Don't say shit like that or I'll smack you with a crutch," Len tells him, then transfers his attention back to the other two. "So what is it? What's the big day? And, perhaps equally important, when?"

"We can answer your last question best," Thawne says. "We're still not sure exactly what the Families are planning - we know it involves a lot of movement, a lot of manpower, though probably a lot of that is just security - but we've identified what the major Central-wide event they're going to use to conceal their mobilization."

"You're not going to like it," Iris interjects.

"I never liked any part of this," Len points out. "Hit me."

"The Families' big day goes down on Election Day," Thawne says.

"...Election Day," Len says. "Election Day. Election Day?!"

He's pretty sure he's not adequately conveying the sheer horror he's feeling right now.

Election Day.

Not the one held in November, which is all well and good, but the important one for Central City purposes: the primary election that happens each year in May.

The day where the real candidate selection takes place.

Only one of the wildest days of the entire Central City social calendar.

Most of the country has faded into widespread apathy, not bothering with votes that they feel rarely matter, and all the more so when it's "only" a primary – but not Central City.

Oh, no, not Central City, with its still-functioning political machine with its armies of thugs available to help 'encourage' voting. Central City's government might be rife with corruption, yes, and one-party control is practically a given, but at some point some genius decided to deal with the fact that there are competing sources of corruption by allowing a total free-for-all when it came to who got the nod for what position.

Corporate candidates battle it out with nationalists and progressives and reformers and who-the-hell-knows-what-else. In Central, even the communists abandon their flag in favor of competing in the bloodbath of Election Day, knowing that the political machine would force the city - and with it, the state - to fall into line come the federal election day, a far less important date.

Election Day.

And the Families are moving.

Not a good combination.

Especially since –

“Election Day is tomorrow!” he exclaims.

"Yeah," Iris says grimly. "Not good at all. Like Eddie says, we haven't figured out exactly what they're up to, but if it's on Election Day, dollars to donuts is that it involves the election itself."

"And with the Commissioner hoping to run for mayor while the mayor runs for governor, getting anyone's attention to doing anything to stop them will be a trick and a half," Len says, equally grim. "What'd you find out about Wells?"

"We think he's being used as a liaison between the Families and more legitimate entities," Thawne says. "Although why -"

He cuts off in the middle of his sentence.

Quite reasonably, in Len's view, given that they are no longer alone in the room.

The Man in Yellow is here.

The name Barry gave him is apt, Len thinks; far more than the Reverse Flash. Beyond the monstrous speed, there's nothing of Barry here at all, not even a reflection.

Standing in the middle of the room with his entire body vibrating at a consistent blur that Barry hasn't mastered, utterly human but for his demonically bright red eyes, the Man in Yellow smiles.

"Don't let me interrupt you, gentlemen," he says, his voice as blurred as his face. He's being obnoxiously courteous, in a sort of arrogant narcissist way that suggests he's entertaining himself in the moments before he plans to kill them all. "You were saying -"

"And lady," Len interrupts, rising to his feet.

"...what?"

"Gentlemen, and lady," Len says. "I believe Iris identifies as a lady."

"I do," Iris says, looking somewhat perturbed by Len's sudden interest in grammar. "‘Gentlemen and lady’ is in fact correct."

The Man in Yellow - Wells himself, or someone in his employ - blinks those shining red eyes, clearly taken aback.

Len assumes he had some sort of introductory speech planned out. Too bad for him that Len isn’t the type to willingly subject himself to evil monologues.

"Would you like to move on to the part where you threaten to kill us all?" Len inquires. "Or do you generally just go straight to the actual murder?"

The Man in Yellow laughs, the sound ringing through the room. "I usually like to make a point of it," he says, raising a vibrating hand. It's moving as fast as a sawblade - if he touches any of them with that, they're done for. "But I think you're right that I should just move on to the main event -"

Len shoots him with the cold gun he'd wrestled into position while the Man in Yellow was distracted by Len’s grammatical non-sequitur.

The Man in Yellow screams.

"Iris, Thawne, run!" Len shouts, keeping the cold blast aimed dead center at the Man in Yellow's face and torso. He'd theorized, based on what happened when it hit Barry, that a hit straight to the head would be disabling to a speedster as long as the beam was maintained; with such key areas targeted, the speedster's body would prioritize healing the damage over anything else, robbing them of the presence of mind they would need to either run away or attack.

"Come with us!" Iris shouts back.

Len centers his legs, which have started shaking, and exhales through his nose. He needs both hands to aim the gun properly - two hands, which leaves none for his crutches; that's why he's been using the braces whenever he's gone out as Captain Cold. Still, all that PT is finally coming in handy: even without crutches, he can stand.

But not for long.

The second he falls back to sit on the bed, his hands will slip, and the beam will drift off target - only by a little, only for a second, but that's all the Man in Yellow will need to escape.

If he tries to leave, he might be able to keep the beam on him until he reaches the door -

But there's one person in the room who can't leave.

"I ain't leaving Mick," he shouts back. "Get out of here! Find a place to hide!"

Even at superspeed, hiding would force the Man in Yellow to look for them - they certainly can't hope to outrun him.

"You get out too!" Mick snaps even as Iris nods jerkily and hurries out, urged on by Thawne. "Boss -"

"I ain't picking something over you again and that's final!"

"Damnit, Len -"

Len's legs give out.

The Man in Yellow darts out of the beam, snarling in rage, his face - and it does look like Wells under what little is left of that mask, or the pictures Len's seen of him - still covered in ice and burned by swiftly healing frostbite.

And then there's a swift wind.

Len closes his eyes, expecting to die so quickly that he doesn't have time to question it - or perhaps to be taken to be tortured, if that's more Wells' speed -

Heh, speed.

Wait a second.

He hasn't been moved - his side would've been protesting if he had - and he's not dead, because he feels moderately sure he wouldn't be around to continue sniggering at puns if he was.

He opens his eyes.

The room is empty.

Wells is gone -

- but so is Mick.

"Mick!" Len cries out, even though he knows it's futile. The Man in Yellow has him.

Wells has his Mick.

"Snart!" Iris cries out, bursting into the room. There are tears of terror and rage streaming down her cheeks. "Snart - he took Eddie! I saw him - the red lightning! He took Eddie!"

"He took Mick, too," Len says, barely able to process it. He just got Mick back - he just fucking got Mick back after nearly losing him to people who hurt Mick because of Len, and here it is, happening all over again.

Mick wouldn't have been a target to the Families if it wasn't for Len, and what he did and who he was.

Mick wouldn't have been a target to the Man in Yellow, if it wasn't for Len's investigation.

Mick -

Mick, who is still bedridden, who is still hospital-bound, who will die if he didn't have the treatment he needed -

Mick is gone.

[sylkana]

1. 2. 3. and 20. for the ship meme~

1: talk about the first ship you ever had.

ok wow i'm going to take you back 16 years, to a tiny 5 year old me who is currently hiding under her blanket bc she's watching her favorite movie, beauty and the beast, and is deathly afraid of the scene where beast is introduced. BUT DESPITE THAT, i always rooted for him and belle, always. i've loved them for as long as i can remember and i feel like they've shaped how i see and make relationships, they're my go to, they're the kind of relationship i crave i just....... when beast lets belle go near the end and you can HEAR THE PAIN IN HIS VOICE i can't it's too much... and then you have belle trying to hold back tears as he's dying and telling him everything is going to be ok bc they're together now ..... DISNEY REALLY FUCKED WITH MY CHILDHOOD HEART. THEY JUST RIPPED IT STRAIGHT OUT OF MY CHEST AND STOMPED ON IT. of course they brought him back, BUT I HAVE SHED TOO MANY TEARS OVER BEAST'S DEATH SCENE TO EVER FORGIVE THEM. also the live action one sucked, so i don't forgive them for that either

2: talk about three of the most important ships throughout your life.

ok obviously belle and beast are number one and i've already talked about them but uh the next one that comes to mind is dorian and aelin from throne of glass (pls don't anyone come for me i'm soft ok) i just...... i can't get myself to ship rowan and aelin, i can't i had a taste of the sweet life that dorian and aelin offered and i can't go back (especially not after reading the original throne of glass that maas had uploaded to fictionpress back in the day) they make my heart ache. i've cried myself to sleep over them, i'm not exaggerating, ask my best friend. i've sent her plenty snapchats of me crying over the fact that THEYRE SOULMATES THAT DONT SEEM TO UNDERSTAND THAT they balance eachother so well and that one scene in queen of shadows where they're holding hands and using their magic and then WHEN THEY LET GO AELIN FALLS TO HER KNEES AND HER MAGIC BASICALLY IS CRYING OUT FOR HIS IDC WHAT MAAS SAYS IDC WHAT MOST OF THE FANDOM SAYS THEYRE IN LOVE AND NOBODY CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE. also dorian x aelin x fenrys is my maas ot3. wow ok i rambled about that too much um..... let's see.. i'll most definitely get hate for this one (maybe) but the other ship that i feel was important in my life is hans x anna from frozen, yes i know he's garbage ok i get it but he's my garbage alright. and they reignited my love for shipping, after i saw frozen i got so immersed in the world of fanfiction and fanart again and the very first piece of fanfiction i ever wrote was hanna related!! it was beautiful and i miss being in that fandom but it's just so...... gross :/ not the hanna fandom itself but moreso the frozen fandom, people can't just let you live and like different things and i don't need that kind of negativity in my life bc as i've said many times before i am a baby

3: what's your current otp?

ohh this is kind of hard, i usually obsess over a couple at a time but at this moment i'm particularly soft for hawke x fenris

20: talk about a ship you feel alone in shipping.

well :/ hanna to an extent, but honestly that fandom is bigger than one might think so !! this honor goes to dorian and aelin, there's a few of us yes but..... not so many now, not after maas killed our ship for good and i feel like i can't even go into the throne of glass fandom bc there are some rude as fuck people in there that think if you don't ship the main ships you're the worst person ever! and making a ship out of nothing!! (i'm looking @ you anti manon x elide shippers) i get we can't all ship the same thing but i feel like fandoms should be welcoming to everyone and from what i've seen the maas fandom isn't

bonus: i really like the thought of mahariel and fenarel???? you know that one elf from the dalish origin that's there for maybe 5 minutes? idk i started shipping my mahariel with him and made up a whole story for them and now i love that ship but i don't think i've ever seen anyone else talk about it

(send me otp asks)

[thetravelerwrites]

Daughters (A Stranger Things Drabble)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Stranger Things Words: 1855

One of my few non-terato related stories, about a year and a half old. This is a stand alone fic about Hopper showing Eleven the birth certificate from Dr. Owens and explaining what it means. Hopper opens up about his lost daughter, Sara. Feedback is appreciated.

Eleven sat on the couch covered in a thick blanket, watching a particularly old western that made very little sense to her, when she heard the special knock on the door.

Without taking her eyes off of the T.V., she reached out mentally and snapped open the four slide locks and the deadbolt with little effort. She heard Hopper enter the cabin, tap his boots against the door frame, and shut the door, though she didn’t turn to look at him. He had gone on his off-day without telling her why, and that, in her experience, was never a good thing. She was a little apprehensive to learn what exactly he’d been up to while he was away.

He stepped around the couch to turn the T.V. off and then sat down beside her, laying two envelopes on the coffee table. One was slim and white, and the second was big, brown, and overflowing.

“What’s that?” Eleven asked, nodding her head at them.

He didn’t answer right away. He sat hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, rubbing his mustache with his right hand, looking down at the brown envelope.

“I went to see Dr. Owens today,” Hopper mumbled from behind his hand.

Eleven’s heart rate accelerated in alarm.

“Bad man,” Eleven said in a nervous whisper.

“Nah, he ain’t all bad,” Hopper said. “He had something for me. Well, it’s for both of us, actually.” He reached for the white envelope and handed it to her. She took it gingerly.

Opening it, she pulled out a blue paper with writing she didn’t understand. “‘Cert…certificate of birth?’ What does that mean?”

“It’s a paper the parents get when a baby is born. Then when that baby gets old enough, they keep it. It’s proof.”

“Proof of what?”

“Life. Existence.” Hopper turned to her. “It shows who your parents are, where you came from.“ He pointed. “It’s also got a social security number.”

“What’s that for?”

“In American, you have to have a social security number to do just about anything. Go to school, get a job, etc. That number is your whole life.”

She frowned at the digits on the page, then the ones on her arm. “Another number.”

“Yeah,” Hopper laughed. “We all got ‘em, kid. I guess most of us are lucky that it’s not our name, too.” He jerked his chin at the paper. “Keep reading.”

“‘This certifies that in the state of Indiana, Jane Hop…’” She looked up at him. “Hopper?”

He nodded solemnly.

“‘Was born in Hawkins, child of Teresa Ives, Mother, and James Hopper… Father.” She looked back at him and lowered the paper, though still clutched it in her fingers. “I don’t understand. What does this mean?”

“Means it’s official,” Hopper said. “We’re family. You’re kinda stuck with me now. Sorry ‘bout that.”

She shook her head, but didn’t say anything. She was feeling a lot of things she hadn’t experienced before and couldn’t properly name, and was having difficulty sorting through them. She stared hard at the paper for a few minutes. Hopper watched her quietly; he seemed to be giving her space to process all this and room to react. Perhaps preparing for a storm, if she wasn’t happy about the arrangement.

After a few minutes, she folded the paper again and gave it back, which he placed on the table next to the large brown envelope.

“What is that?” She asked.

Again, he didn’t answer immediately, and when he did, it was with a very heavy sigh.

“Well... since we’re family now, I figured I should introduce you two.”

He reached into the brown envelope and pulling out everything that was inside it. There were drawings, old elementary work sheets, coloring pages, but most of it was pictures. Sifting through, he extracted a photograph of a small, blonde-haired, blue-eyed child, wearing a frilly blue dress, smiling widely. Her curly hair was pulled up into two pigtails with aqua blue bands.

“Is that Sara?” Eleven asked tentatively.

Hopper nodded. “This was her first grade class photo. Just a month or two before everything went to shit.” He found another photo, in this one, Hopper was sitting with Sara and a blonde haired, blue-eyed woman who strongly resembled Sara. Hopper was clean-shaven in the picture, and they were all smiling.

Eleven pointed to the woman.

“That’s Diane,” Hopper said. “We were married. Then Sara died. Then we weren’t married anymore.”

“Why?”

“My fault mostly,” Hopper said, staring at the picture. “She wanted to move on, try and get her life back, but I couldn’t let go. I started drinkin’, lost my job because I stopped showing up, all kinds of things that she quite understandably didn’t want to deal with. I wouldn’t have wanted to deal with me, either.”

“Where is she?”

“Philadelphia. She got remarried a few years ago, had herself a new little baby boy. She’s doing good. She’s happy.”

He reached into the pile of papers and drew out another certificate, like the one Hopper got from Owens, but from a different state. The name on the top line was “Sara.”

“She’d be your sister,” He said, staring at the type font as though he couldn’t see anything else. “She’d have loved a sister.”

The emotions that had been swirling in Eleven’s body had settled, and of the remaining ones, the most prominent was sorrow. “What was she like?”

Hopper’s chin shook, and she thought he might not be able to talk about it, but he said, “She was so smart. Smarter than me. Got it from her mom, I guess. She’s so interested in science and space and all that stuff.” He plucked at the aqua blue bracelet around his wrist. A tear fell from his eye and disappeared into his beard.

“She was gonna grow up to be a paleontologist and also an astronaut doctor. Not an astronaut that was also a doctor, a doctor that only treated astronauts.“ He smiled. “She was gonna have thirty kids, but she wasn’t gonna get married cause boys were gross. She was going to do so many things.” More tears fell, and he wiped his nose on his sleeve. “She never got the chance to do anything.”

Emotions can be infectious, especially when the person exhibiting them was so stoic and self-contained ordinarily. Eleven could feel tears on her own cheeks as Hopper spoke.

“Her birthday was April 17th,” He said. “She would have been seven if she had made it that long. She nearly made it.” The tears were falling freely now. He didn’t even attempt to wipe them away. Eleven wondered if he had ever said these things to anyone. She knew vaguely that most people in town didn’t even know he had had a daughter.

“A few months after, I came home and Diane was packing up Sara’s room. Just pulling down everything and stuffing it into boxes. I asked what she was doing… and she said she was donating it. That she couldn’t stand looking at it all every day. And I got so… angry. It was like she was just throwing her away and I couldn’t believe she could do that. I over-did it a little; I yelled a lot, started throwing things. That’s when she kicked me out for the last time. That,” He pointed to the pile. “Was all I managed to save. That’s all that’s left of Sara.

“Well,” He said, “That and this.” He pulled the bracelet off of his wrist and toyed with it a little. ”She used to wear these stretchy blue hair bands, like, every day. She had all kinds of different bows and hair things she could’ve worn, but she always wanted these.

“One day, while she was on chemo, she pulled them out so she could take a bath, and all her hair came with them. After that, she couldn’t wear them anymore. I was going to throw them away, but she made them into a little bracelet and had me wear it. She said she wanted to save them for when her hair grew back.”

His face crumpled. Holding the little blue bracelet in both hands, he pressed it against his forehead and wept.

Eleven pulled herself up to her knees and hugged Hopper around the shoulders, crying into his neck. They stayed that way for some time.

When Eleven drew back, inexplicably, the blue bracelet was now circling her wrist. She looked at Hopper questioningly as she reached to pull it off.

He stopped her. “No, you should have it,” He said. “She’d want you to have it. I want you to have it, too. We’re family now.”

She smiled and her lip quivered. She nodded and looked at the bracelet. A tenuous connection to a sister she’d never meet. She looked at the two certificated on the table.

“Sara was your daughter,” Eleven said slowly, carefully. “Does this mean that I am, too?”

“Yeah,” He said, regaining composure. “That’s exactly what that paper means. You’re my daughter. I’m your dad. Officially.”

“Just officially?” Eleven said.

Hopper shook his head. “No, not just officially. If you want, it could be for real.”

“For real,” Eleven repeated. “Not like Papa.”

“No, not like Papa,” Hopper said seriously. “I know he wanted you to call him that, but was there ever a time when he called you his daughter? Treated you like a dad is supposed to?”

Eleven shook her head emphatically.

“No, because he doesn’t even know what it means. I doubt he’s ever really loved anything. Certainly not you.” Hopper looked down at the two certificates. “I loved Sara. And I love you, too, kid.”

Eleven had never once in her entire life heard those words. The swirl of emotions was back, but this time, the most out-standing one was joy. Incapable of speech, all she could do was smile and cry.

Hopper reached out an arm and Eleven hugged him around the middle, resting her head on his chest. He squeezed her tight with both arms and planted a peck on the top of her head. After some time had passed, they let go of each other, but she took his hand and held it. They both needed the comfort of touch right then.

Eleven dared to picked up a drawing and asked Hopper what it meant. He told her it was supposed to be a dog-velociraptor, laughing. It went on like this for several hours: Eleven would choose something from the pile, and Hopper would explain what it was; tell little, loving stories about Sara’s brief life, and then he would put it back into the envelope.

When they had gone through the entirety of the pictures and papers, all that was left were the two certificates sitting side by side on the table. The only thing they had in common was the line, “James Hopper: Father.” He folded them and put them both in the brown envelope and sealed it. This wasn’t just old memories anymore. It was proof, just like Hopper had said. The love of a man for his daughters.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[mywrittings]

mixed signals / sweet pea

𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: for those who are confused as to why I’m writing an imagine about a different fandom - I decided that from now on, I’m not only going to be writing about BTS on this blog but other’s as well :))

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: sweet pea is giving you mixed signals about your friendship

𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: angst, fluff

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: strong language, kissing, making out

you meet him at a party a long time ago, he was standing outside smoking a cigarette, puffing the smoke out in the most sexiest way possible. his snake tattoo that he had on his perfectly exposed neck was a sign that he was one of the serpents - you were one of them too.

you moved to riverdale a few days ago after finding out your parents kept hiding that you were a serpent. it was suppose to keep you safe and they didn’t want you living there but when you were living back in your old town, you could sense that you didn’t belong there. everyone was wearing the most fashionable clothes, driving their expensive cars but you were the total opposite - wearing dark clothes only. 

however it was still hard adjusting to this new life you had. you don’t know anybody so naturally you wanted to make some new friends. either way your parents told you that the serpents will accept you no matter what but you can’t just show up at their table and be ‘hey I’m one of you too’, it just seemed a bit weird plus you still have to officially become one of them. this party that you were attending was the perfect place to make some new friends or better yet to be apart of the group you knew you belonged to all your life.

but back to how you meet sweet pea.

he noticed you checking him out, as he caught a few of your glances. he decided to come to you as you were grabbing yourself a drink from one of the bowls, filled with some sort of dark liquid.

‘‘don’t drink that, it might be poisonous.’‘ he yelled over the blasting music that was playing some hard rock songs.

‘‘I could handle it.’‘ you shouted back, looking up at him and finding out it was the guy.

‘‘I’m sure you can’t.’‘ he took the drink away from your hands and threw it in the sink. he then grabbed your arm and dragged you out of the house, to where he was standing a few minutes ago.

‘‘wow okay wait! I think you might be poisonous.’‘ you muttered as his hand finally let go of yours.

‘‘oh baby, I know I’m poisonous you don’t need to tell me that.’‘ he winked, grabbing a cigarette out of his pocket.

‘‘so why did you bring me here?’‘ you asked, looking around the area. 

‘‘you’re the new girl. had to welcome you.’‘ he explains, lighting his cigarette.

‘‘wait, how do you know-...’‘ 

‘‘if you are one of us we always know it.’‘ he started taking a puff.

you blushed at his words but quickly stared off into the distance, afraid he might see that, even if the two of you were in the dark.

‘‘I’m sweet pea.’‘ he introduces himself, shaking your hand.

‘‘y/n.’‘ you shortly reply.

since that day you to became inseparable friends. you always had each other’s backs no matter what the situation was. your small crush on him was still there, holding onto you but you didn’t feel like telling him. sweet pea was a tough guy and you were sure he wasn’t about that ‘dating life’. even though you didn’t want to tell him, you were still allowing yourself to day dream about him - his hands, his tattoos, his lips...

however he was acting very fondly of you. he’d do little things that made you feel like he was flirting with you - winking at you, biting his lips when you were talking, hugging you out of no reason... you believed he had a thing for you. 

right now you were standing in front of your locker, taking out his shirt that he let you borrow for the night. you spent a night at his trailer and nothing happened but still when you looked down at the shirt you couldn’t help but to smile at the memory. you brought it in today so that you could give it back to him.

you took it in your hands and walked to the table outside where everyone hung out. but your feet soon came to a stop and you hid behind a bush. you saw sweet pea’s hand holding onto some girl you had never seen before. his hand was chilling there on her shoulder.

your heart sank, sweet pea was probably doing this to all the new girls that joined the party. you were convinced that he had a thing for you just because of his actions towards you but it turns out you were wrong.

marching you came to the table, sweet pea’s eyes looking up at you but all you wished to do was smack his face as hard as you could.

‘‘hey y/n.’‘ he smiled, getting ready to stand up and hug you. but you didn’t wait, instead you threw his shirt at him and stormed off.

you could hear his yelling in the background but you didn’t care to turn around and face him. it was making you angry, the fact that you thought you two could be something. how couldn’t you see it before? thankfully you didn’t confess anything that you’d regret later.

you got home into your trailer shutting the door behind you. you were a strong person when it came to tears and you barely shed any. you jumped on your couch, taking a blanket and throwing it around yourself.

but 5 minutes later your relaxing was interrupted as you could hear a motorcycle being parked outside of your trailer. you stayed in the same position, thinking that if you close your eyes he might just go away.

‘‘what the fuck is wrong with you?!’‘ sweet pea barged into your trailer, slamming the door and walking up to you.

‘‘just go.’‘ you mumbled under the blanket that was covering your mouth. 

he didn’t take that as a no and hovered over your body, his face only inches away from yours. 

‘‘can you stop?!’‘ he shouted, the veins on his neck visibly popping out.

‘‘stop what?!’‘ you screamed back, opening your eyes to see him staring at you.

‘‘being so fucking annoying with that attitude of yours!’‘

‘‘sweet pea please leave’‘ you simply answered with a much more softer voice.

you were breathing heavily as his fingers grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him. your eyes started back into his but then they moved down to his lips.

‘‘is that what you want?’‘ he asks and you hold his face in your hands.

‘‘of course not.’‘ you sigh in defeat and he smiles down at you.

‘‘did I do something wrong earlier?’‘ he questions moving away from you but grabbing your hands to help you lift up. he pulled you into a side hug and your head was chilling on his chest.

‘‘n-no no...’‘ you tried sounding as convincing as possible but no one can fool sweet pea, especially when it came to you.

‘‘y/n.’‘ he demanded an answer

‘‘I just...the girl you were hugging are you doing all of these things that you are doing to me to her too? and other girls too?’‘ you blurted quickly hiding your face in his jacket.

‘‘you mean this?’‘ he signals the way he was hugging you

‘‘well yeah.’‘ you assured

‘‘and this.’‘ he moves his body away from yours just to set you in his lap

‘‘yeah.’‘ you were getting annoyed as he for sure got the point

‘‘how about this?’‘ his lips found a way on your neck. he carefully kissed it and then slightly bit on it - leaving a mark. his hand came in contact with your jaw and he pushed it to the side, gaining more access.

‘‘I...d-don’t know...’‘ you moaned biting your lips in the process.

he circled around your neck with his tongue, nipping at the skin and rapidly kissing it. your heart on the other hand was beating so fast, you thought it was going to jump out any minute. that’s how amazing this felt, his lips were working on your skin like some kind of magic. 

he then dragged his lips at the back of your neck, where your sweet spot was, pressing a wet kiss.

‘‘you are the only one y/n.’‘ he admits, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine, while your mind was going numb.

‘‘b-but the girl.’‘ you argued back

‘‘she’s like a sister to me.’‘ he answered, capturing your lips with his. 

his tongue slid along the bottom of your lip and he grasped it with his teeth, earning a groan from you.

‘‘sweets...’‘ 

‘‘you’re mine.’‘ he grunts, his lips ghosting over yours.

that night was filled with dozens of make outs and you confessing to him once and for all. you learned he sensed that you had a crush on him but because he’s such a ‘tough cookie’ he didn’t want to confess first. but he was dropping those hints and he though you didn’t get them. luckily you proved him wrong.

[denimwrites-archive]

Rough Start to Spring Break

Prompt: A sequel to the little thing I wrote over on @sea-creature-anons ‘s blog (but it can be read as a stand alone piece cause I summarize it here).

Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen

Pairing: Alana Beck X Reader

Summary: Going to college away from your girlfriend was really hard, and you would have given anything to have winter break last forever. Good thing there’s spring break to look forward to, right?

Word Count: 1,556

Warnings: Airplanes and flying, flirting guys who feel entitled, a little bit of angst, a little language? 

A/N: I might end up reposting the things I’ve submitted to the sea creatures if school starts to get overwhelming and I’ll post the link if I do, but for now it’s only over there. This is pretty much just me wishing I had a girlfriend and that winter break wasn’t over, as well as hoping I never have a bad experience on an airplane.

~~~

Finals were the worst thing in the world. If they didn’t end up killing you, than being away from your girlfriend was going to get the job done. Of course, that was before winter break. Now it was a week into January. You had survived the dreaded tests, and made it home to see the person you missed most. Spending most of the time with her, in her arms, and just enjoying her company.

Unfortunately that didn’t last forever. You said goodbye and shed a few tears, still not ready to go back to Skype calls and no cuddles. But you got through it and when you got back to your dorm, you were already planning the next time you would see Alana. She had promised you that you would do anything you wanted over spring break, and you were going to make the most of it.

When she called you that first week back, you were already done coming up with a possible list and started talking to her about it. She couldn’t help the giggle at your earnest, but offered some ideas of her own. As the semester wore on, the list may have gotten a bit too big, but that just meant you had ideas for summer break too.

As the weeks went on, you were getting more and more anxious to see her. Alana shared your sentiments, and was understandably becoming excited as the days ticked down. The day before break you were already packed and ready to go. List packed, with a general schedule of things planned, you head to the airport.

But what you weren’t expecting was a massive delay. You let out a groan at the sight of your plane being late. Sending a quick text to your girlfriend, she says that waiting an extra hour or two wouldn’t kill you.

’That won’t mean I’m going to miss you any less :/’ you text her, and she sends you a cute little meme, making you smile. ‘Okay, I’ll text you when we land. I love you, dork’ you reply, with a little kissy face.

Alana replies with a bundle of heart emojis and kisses, making you smile even wider. You wander around a little bit as you wait. Deciding to surprise Alana, you get a small stuffed bear. Sure it was cheesy, but it was cute.

When it was finally time to board, you took a deep breath and got on, finding yourself seated between a woman and man. Squeezing yourself into the middle, you grab something to read, trying to distract yourself until you can turn on your phone again. But while waiting, the man next to you attempts to start a conversation.

“Headed home for break?” he asks, and trying to be polite, while also showing a lack of interest, you give the short answer of ‘yes’. He decides to keep talking though, and so you keep conversing.

He’s not that much older than you, and he’s on break himself. He finally introduces himself and you reply with your name and a slightly awkward handshake. Even if you aren’t all that into the conversation, it’s a nice distraction and you don’t even realize that the ride is halfway over until the captain announces it over the loudspeaker.

With the flight halfway over, your companion starts to get a little too into your discussion. Leaning in and becoming a little more flirtatious. The woman next to you notices and shares a look with you, and she rolls her eyes at his antics causing you to snort at an inopportune moment.

“What’s so funny?” he asks, with a furrowed brow.

“Nothing, you just made me think of something amusing my girlfriend showed me once.” And then you know you messed up, since your conversation goes sour pretty fast. He starts to ask questions about her, and makes it seem like you were the one to lead him on when it was just a friendly chat.

The woman next to you gives you a sympathetic smile as he goes on a tangent about friendzones and other stupid things. Thank god the flight is almost over, you think to yourself as you try to tune out the guy next to you. But then the worst happens.

The captain comes over the loudspeaker again and says that you’ll be delayed due to a bad storm at the airport. They were going to try and wait it out, but would move and land at another airport if necessary.

Dropping your head and suppressing a groan, you tried to think positively about the situation. It meant that you would be even happier to finally see Alana. But then you felt your heart drop at the thought of having to wait even longer to see her. You can do this, Alana said it herself, it won’t kill you. But then you heard the guy still ranting next to you and you questioned it.

After an extra hour in the air, the plane was finally able to land and you couldn’t get off of that hunk of metal fast enough. As you rushed off the plane and down to the luggage area, you looked around to try and find Alana. When you missed her in your first scan, you sent her a text and waited.

You were able to find your luggage without much trouble, but Alana still hadn’t replied and you still didn’t see her. Taking a seat, you waited. Bouncing your leg and glancing around, your mind started to wander to not so happy thoughts.

Those thoughts were not helped by the guy from your row deciding to take a seat next to you. “Waiting for your girlfriend, huh?” he sneered at you.

Giving him a wary glance you let out a small, ‘yes’ before proceeding to try and ignore him.

“Sure you are, and I’m waiting for Abraham Lincoln to pick me up.” He huffed out a laugh and you started to gather your things, wanting to move away from him. He didn’t seem to like that and grabbed your wrist causing your heartbeat to pick up and your face to flush. “Hey, where are you going? I thought we were having a nice conversation until you lied. Why don’t we forget that happened and exchange numbers?”

But before you can respond you feel someone grab your other wrist and you turn to face the new individual, fear written across your face. But the second you see her, you let out a sigh of relief. Alana stands there, determination on her face. Moving her hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, she gives your hand a squeeze before turning to him.

“Excuse me, but please get your hand off of my significant other, we have a lot of time to make up for.” She gives him a smile laced with hostility and he immediately lets go of you. Grabbing your stuff, without letting go of Alana’s hand, you exit the airport.

When you finally breathe in the fresh air of outside, you don’t think you could smile any wider. Letting go of your stuff you wrap your arms around Alana’s neck and pull her in for a passionate kiss. She pulls you close and gives you a squeeze before pulling away. “I missed you so much,” you breathed.

“Me too, but we’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Now, what do you want to do first?”

Whispering your idea into her ear, she grabs your hand again, and one of your bags. Leading you to the car, you get in and head for food. Not just any food though, your favorite place in town. The ride there was nice, including a few duets as you rode back home.

Finally getting to the restaurant, Alana opened the door for you and you were overcome with happiness. You missed this, the small gestures, the smiles she shared and the joy that was Alana Beck. As you sat down and got ready to order, you grabbed her hand across the table.

“I love you,” you said, smile for her and her alone.

“I love you more,” she replied, bringing your hand up to kiss. Feeling your cheeks flush at the gesture, you gave her hand a squeeze. The dinner was amazing, as it always was, and you split dessert.

After dinner, you got back in the car and shared a peaceful silence as you digested and made the rest of the trip home. Alana dropped you off at your house and helped you carry your things inside. But before she left, you were able to convince her to stay and watch a movie. Needless to say, that lead to a marathon and sleeping cuddled in each other’s arms.

The break may have gotten off to a rough start, but you were ready to leave that behind and have an awesome time, with your awesome girlfriend.

And Alana seemed to have the same idea, since you woke up in the morning to toasted poptarts and coffee ready to go. Giving you a kiss on the cheek and handing you the delicious breakfast, she held up the list with a smile. “Ready to get started?”

You couldn’t hold in your smile as you gave her a proper kiss on the lips, “Do you really need to ask?”

Tag List: @helplesshansen   @arsonboirich

[mochiandzoe]

Better this way

You sighed, it was only another boring day in the office. Nothing new to do, just checking everything went smoothly, no death threats to the guys, no dangerous fanmail. Just a regular day. You wondered if it wouldn’t be better for you to find a different job even if now you were on a really good position, you oversaw the biggest kpop group security. Not in a bodyguard way but as in checking their social media and the stuff their fans sent. Since they were strong on social media it was really tiring sometimes. Fandoms can get a bit messy when they’re not happy with another fandom and death threats towards the fandom’s artist were something common amongst them.

It was precisely for that, that you hadn’t resigned some years ago when the company hadn’t been doing well. You had to look after him, not because it was your job, but because you wanted to keep him save, even after he had dumped you. At that time, you were just an intern, no one would ever blink twice if from one day to another you had decided to just leave. But who could do such a thing. Even now you were always looking out for him, just seen him in the corner of your eye was enough. He knew you were there, he didn’t care about you and he always pretended not to know you because after all it had been him who had left you.

You remembered that day clearly as if it had been yesterday and not almost six years ago. He had gone to his first audition and you weren’t sure if he would make it, he hadn’t told you the company he was auditioning for and you also hadn’t told him which company you worked for. You had been on a relationship for just some months and at that time you were just an intern, you didn’t know he would react that bad when he found out which company you worked for.

He had told you he passed the audition so after his first day you on your lunch break called him to ask if he could go out and get lunch with you to celebrate him officially becoming a trainee. It didn’t go as expected, in the middle of the call both of you bumped into each other and you two realized that you were working under the same company. Only that you were part of the staff and he was part of the trainees, the difference between you two was enormous to his eyes.

He confronted you, wanting to know if you had had something to do with his acceptance. Not wanting to discuss that in public you took him to a private part where you could calmly talk about it. Even after two long hours where you told him that you had no idea they were scouting people since all you did was classify fan letters, at the end he had decided he didn’t want to be known as the trainee whose girlfriend was part of the staff, he also didn’t want to risk his career now that it had just started, he didn’t want you to have problems with the CEO he said. It’s for the best he had also said.

After that you had learnt that breaking a heart wasn’t something incredibly hard, that love could be useless in some situations. Just a month after his group had debuted as 방탄소년단, you had been promoted as the department head of the security team as the old department head had decided to resign just four years before reaching his retiring age. The moment when you had been introduced to them as the new department head was by far one of the worst ones, only surpassed by the day he had left you. You hadn’t expected him to say anything about you two having a story, but you also hadn’t expected his indifferent stare, as if he wasn’t looking at a person but some kind of furniture.

Not wanting to keep staring blankly the computer screen you got up and went to the rest area to get some coffee and maybe cheer up by reading some book on your phone. It still was early in the morning, so you were surprised when just ten minutes after you had been reading and sipping your coffee, you heard someone entering the area and throwing himself or herself into one of the puffs near you and deeply sighing. You looked up and it obviously had to be him.

—Aren’t you going to say hi? You know you’ve just entered a room, saying hi won’t kill you.

—I was trying to pretend you weren’t here.

—So, you’re not going to even try to lie to me saying you didn’t notice I was here —you rolled your eyes, at some point all you ever did with him was have this kind of awkward talk and then one of you would leave, but today none of you seemed to be willing to leave.

—It’s better this way. It doesn’t hurt this way. Pretend we don’t know each other, it’s less painful. —he looked at you with those eyes that even back then when he was a kid could consider the depths of your soul.

—I thought you no longer had feelings for me, that to start with you hadn’t had them for me —this wasn’t what you’d have loved to say to him after all this time, but sadness and loneliness were getting the better of me.

—So, you say I shouldn’t have broken up with you? That now we would be a happy couple?

—I don’t know… —And it was true you didn’t know what would had happened if he hadn’t broken up with you, you only knew that you still loved him—. The only thing I know is that even if it was for a few months that we were dating, the feelings remain with me. That I-

He stood up so quickly that you trailed off, forgetting what you wanted to say, was he going to leave? Instead of that he got closer to you and sat right next to you.

—Don’t, don’t continue that sentence —he brushed some hair strands out of your face almost making you squeal—. You know that if we had kept dating you would have been fired the moment they found out, you’d have harassed either a trainee or an idol, taken advantage of your position in the company. It actually IS better this way, you’ve always been a smart girl, don’t act as a dumb one now.

»More than anyone you should now how fans can be. What might happen to you. So even if we loved each other back into those days or we still do, you should already know that a relationship between us has no future.

When he stopped you were almost on the verge of tears, you already had known all of this but listening to him saying it, it hurt. It hurt more than anything to know that he had closed any chance of you two getting back together. He looked at your eyes and leaned, he gave you one of those sweet kisses you had always loved on the forehead.

—Don’t cry, I’m not worthy of your tears. You also know that. —He caressed one of your cheeks—. You’re an amazing woman, go a find a man that also deserves your love and dedication, move on. There’ll only be shattered dreams and disappointment by my side. Go and find the man you will want to spend the rest of your existence with, forget me, forget your first love and look for the love of your life.

With that, he left. Not even waiting for you to say anything. He left, and you knew that not only had you lost him, your first love, but also the love of your life. No matter what he had said, you wouldn’t be able to forget him, deep inside you knew there would be no other man like him. Another man with whom you would experience the same connection as you had with him, and you also can’t find in another man what you already got from another. He had given up, and so will you at some point, when the memory of the tears he had also been about to shed faded.

[httpsung]

Seeing Day6 Live | #Day6inDet

!!Warning!! Long post ahead

Excuse me for being mushy and lame..

Honestly being able to watch Day6 perform live is a magical experience. Seeing Day6 in person.. it’s crazy the amount of emotions I felt the moment these five men walked onto that stage, it was insane. I really wish that all MyDays who really love and appreciate Day6 will be able to experience them live even if it’s just once. I’m wishing everyone the best of luck because it’s nothing like seeing your favorite people right in front of you...

October 27, 2017 was literally the best day of my life this year. It was surreal and I find my self at times throughout the day thinking “Did it really happen?” I’m going to discuss what I could recall from last night. I might post more stuff about the fanmeet later on but this it’s what’s refresh on my mind right now.

So the moment 8pm hit, the time the show was suppose to start the crowd started chanting “Day6!” over and over but the show still didn’t start and so the crowd went through all of the guys names starting with “Brian” Literally the entire venue minus me was like “Brian, Brian” but I’m like it’s YOUNG K, soon they went from Brian to Young K and it seemed to be a chanting war of both his names back and forth lol followed by everyone else’ s names.

Anyways the intro video started and Dowoon was the first person to walk out on stage and take a seat at his drums and BOY that’s when my heart started to race and I was like OH FUCK this is happening, he’s gorgeous he’s really there. Then followed Wonpil, Young K ( I think Wonpil came out before Young K I could be wrong forgive me I was trying not to loose my shit ) Jae, and last but definitely not least Sungjin. LET ME FUCKING TELL YOU when Sungjin walked out MY KNESS GOT WEAK I LITERALLY TURNED AND HELD ON TO THE BACK OF MY SEAT BECAUSE I WAS NOT READY. I was in Section 2, row L Literally right in front of where he stands on stage so he’s all I can see ( So I’m like 12 rows away from the stage? Something like that.. ) BUT ISTG Sungjin’s eyes sparkled like I’m not super close to him but I can see his eyes shining from where I’m sitting AND I shit you not I almost died.

So they performed I Wait first, I thought I was ready, I’ve watched the livestreams of the other shows before Detroit so I knew the setlist and what to get prepared for BUT YOU CANNOT PREPARE YOURSELF FOR DAY6 AT ALL. They started playing and it was so hype from start to finish, then they went on to Hunt and I’m sure most of you know the rest of the songs played before they actually sat down but even before that they kind said a few words??

Anyways the fanmeet portion began. The host came out and the translator the boys got seats and introduced themselves and I’m sorry I was one of those people who let out a louder than usual scream when Sungjin spoke like I cheered pretty loud for the other boys BUT come on... my bias introduced himself I didn’t even expect that sound to leave my throat.

So after introductions they answered some questions y’know when they pick a question a fan has asked them.. I was in awe with how adorable they were, how genuinely nice they seem and just wow I really appreciate them.

After that came a game of Bingo and I was like OH this is new because I think we’re the only stop that got the Bingo game. If I remember correctly LA & NYC had the preference game and Austin had the Wiii Boxing.

They played Bingo and if they got bingo they could draw five raffle tickets and whichever fan had that matching ticket would get a prize. They all drew one and matched with a fan, my heart was about to explode because I wanted to be picked but I also didn’t want them to see me I’m weird LMAO. I WAS LITERALLY ONE NUMBER OFF WHEN DOWOON WAS CALLING OUT HIS BOYYY. Anyways it was funny because Young K drew a ticket and no one had it so he looked sad then he had to draw again and looked happy when he finally got someone lol.

OH btw Sungjin danced to Gashina due to the number he chose for Bingo ( I forgot to mention they had to do a task that was hidden behind the number they chose ) Jae created an impromptu song AND LORD JESUS BLESS HIS VOICE, Young K’s task had everyone involved and everyone of them had to strike a pose from the option that came up which happened to be MICHAEL JACKSON so they had to do an MJ posed and Young K failed lol. Dowoon had to do a mystery box and touch something without seeing it and guess what it was THAT POOR BABY HAD TO TOUCH AN ALLIGATOR/CROCODILE IT WAS ONE OF THOSE AND I WAS LIKE OH SHIT (idk if it was truly real tho) when he realized what it was he jumped, he was cute.

Wonpil’s task was to eat a lemon and try to whistle afterward, he was cute.. I barely heard the whistle but we were all like YEAH HE WHISTLED GIVE HIM THE POINT.

This might be out of order but I remember Jae saying some really nice and encouraging stuff and talking about how he got the Kpopstar audition and that he was a political science major in college WOW.

I remember someone was like “Preach Jae” and he was so hype like ‘I’M GONNA PREACH” lmao I love him.

After the games were over they told us how we will enjoy music for the rest of the time.

SUNGJIN’S “BAND IS MUSIC” I ALMOST SHED A TEAR

They left the stage and showed the video of them in Detroit, SUNGJIN’S CUT and wow it was nice ;-;

AFTER that they came back on stage and performed You Were Beautiful and I wanted to cry on the floor but didn’t.

At the end when they did freely, I was already in the aisle and Jae did his signature jump off the stage and walk into the center thing and that’s when I got closer too and BOY what a performer... DAY6 ARE A BUNCH OF AMAZING PERFORMERS.

It all ended after that unless you had p2 hi-touch and I did... and that’s when my anxiety kicked in a little I was so nervous, I knew it was going to be a quick process because when is hi-touch ever lengthy? but I was AKJSKSKDLFLFG;GK my best friend was like you wanna go before me and I was like GIRL NO LMAO I’M ABOUT TO RUN AWAY. Our row was up  to walk on stage and here it goes, where my life was about to end.

Dowoon was first, very friendly! At first it was hard to take him in,  it was hard to take all of them in at the moment and their little actions. He was sort of leaning on the table and he really didn’t high-five but kinda grabbed my hand a little and was like “Hello, thank you!” I said thank you in return my voice was really small and high-pitched BECAUSEI WAS NOT READY FOR THIS. Next was Wonpil.... WONPIL INTIMIDATED ME SO MUCH GUYS OH MY GOD, HIS GAZE WAS STRONG AND I COULDN’T REALLY MAKE OUT HIS EXPRESSION BUT HE WAS ALSO REALLY HANDSOME, HIS FACE IS CHISELD BY THE GODS WTF Wonpil increased my nerves but his voice was so nice when he said “Hi and thank you” Next was Young K and istg I remember nothing but his smile, he was all teeth it was THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SMILE.

THEN HERE WE GO PARK SUNGJIN... MFING SUNGJIN... GRABBED MY HAND IT WAS KINDA AGRESSIVELY SOFT LIKE IS THAT EVEN A THING BUT THAT’S THE BEST WAY I CAN DESCRIBE IT. Sungjin seemed really thrilled like so bubbly, He said “Thank you for coming” and I said it back though I wanted to say I love you, I wanted to say that to all of them but I choked.

ISTG I’M NOT EVEN TRYING TO BE BIASED but his grip on my hand lingered and I was crying in my head. I was so stunned about everything that Jae ALMOST became a blur I say almost because I was like still trying to process Sungjin and our hand separating that when Jae ALSO grabbed my hand and leaned into my view and JESUS CHRIST HE’S SO PRETTY He was like “Ayeee, thanks for coming” I did say thank you but oh my god I was not ready for Sungjin or Jae... HI TOUCH WAS A SHORT SPECIAL EXPERIENCE BUT WITH JAE AND SUNGJIN INTERACTING WITH THEM STOOD OUT THE MOST WITH ME

Afterward we exited the venue I was still stunned like did that all happen??? I kept saying stuff like that all the way to my airbnb with my best friend and then when we made it to the front door everything I had been feeling throughout the whole show and hi-touch came out of me at once and I started crying akskdlf

I never expected to fall so hard for Day6, they’re amazing, they make amazing music... there’s not a single song I dislike. I love how hard working they are and I love how hard they’ve worked this year giving their fans their all. I’ve been a solid fan for 6 1/2 months  and honestly stanning them is one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life, they’re literally like home, the MyDay fandom is one of the best with such kind people and I’m grateful to be able to experience loving Day6 with them.

I HAVE A LOT OF FEELS SO I’M GOING TO STOP BEING LAME AND END THIS NOW IF YOU READ THIS ALL WOW YOU THE MVP

Anyways I do have videos hardly no picture because I’m a video kind of gal so I will be posting a few soon, once I go through them all lol and stuff.

[mxrkwxtneys]

Found

Fandom; Doctor Who

Pairing; 9th Doctor/Original Time Lord Character

Warnings; Slight angst 

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

The night air was filled with screaming and the sounds of ‘exterminate’ The Time Lords and Ladys tried all they could to protect their children. Their attempts failed as the Daleks fired their beams. On a hill stood a couple. Theta and Gemini. He cupped her face in his hands. 

“Don’t cry my love. It’ll be okay. I know a way to end this war.” he stated  She couldn’t help, a few tears escaped. 

“I know. But try your hardest to find me again my love.” She sobbed out. He  pulled her into a tight hug and pressed a kiss on her forehead. Then he pulled away and headed off, set to end the War.

The woman got into her Time Ship and stroked the side. She would be human again soon. All her memories would be concealed in a small watch. Her chameleon arc -which would change her DNA and biology to human- dangled from the ceiling, and she reached up to grab it. After quickly setting the settings to human and placing the watch into the spot, she placed it onto her head and pressed the button. To say that it hurt worse than regeneration was true. After a few more seconds, the pain stopped, and she couldn’t help but look around.

 Pressing the button that she needed to, Gemini set course for Earth, and decided on a small town in London,England. To at least try to fit in to human society.  She parked her Ship and changed the exterior so that it looked like a phone booth. Gemini sighed and stepped out, setting the key in the corner, where only she could get it. Then, she set out for the London streets, letting the memories slowly leave her mind. But the one thought that remained on her mind, was who was the mysterious man, and when she would meet him. 

But little did she know, she already had met him. 

-

Jolting awake, the female gasped for breath. The same dream that has been happening every night for the last week, happened again. This time it was more in depth. Letting out a soft sigh, she fell back against the bed, a huff escaping her lips. All Eliza wanted to know was why these dreams kept happening. What did they mean? 

Her phone dinged with a text and she flapped her hand around her nightstand before grabbing it. It was her best friend Rose, who up to two days ago, was working during this time. 

Rose: I’m coming over, I’ll be there in 10 [8:54am]

Rose: I’m here. [9:05am]

Her blonde best friend flung open the door and plopped herself next to Eliza on the bed. 

“Only nine in the morning and you look like crap.” Eliza couldn’t help but tease her friend. The blonde looked up from her spot on the bed and sent a glare at her. 

“I’ve been up all night trying to find more information on that man who blew up my shop. Says his name is ‘The Doctor.’” Rose rolled her eyes, and Eliza nodded. 

“If you want, my computer is open, I have to go and shower anyway.” The redhead pointed over to her computer that sat in the corner. Rose slipped her shoes off before padding her way over to the computer, as Eliza grabbed a clean set of clothes from the closet and went to shower. 

That name the Rose mentioned -The Doctor- sounded oh so familiar. She felt as if she had heard that name before, a long time ago. Rubbing the rest of the sleep out of her eyes, Eliza started the shower.

Twenty minutes later, she was done and pulling a towel around her body. A further ten minutes passed before she stepped out in a blue long sleeve shirt, black jeans and a pair of socks. 

“Find anything interesting?” She called out to Rose as she sat back down on her bed, pulling her glasses on. 

“A website, some man has been exploring the theory that the man that I met goes back generations. Or at least something like that. I’m going to go meet up with him. Wanna come with?” She asked Eliza, as she shut the computer down. 

“You know I’m always down for an adventure!” Eliza grinned, as she grabbed her boots from the floor, “besides, chances are the information the guy has could be true.” She grabbed her wallet from her nightstand drawer along with her ever so important pocket watch that she had gotten when she was adopted. Hand in hand, the duo headed out, and Eliza got the feeling that this day would be the most important day in her life. 

-

Pulling up to the house, Rose took the keys out of the car and slipped it into her pocket after getting out. 

“I’ll be only a bit, you can come in if you want to.” 

“I might as well, don’t know how long you’d be, since you like to talk a lot.” Eliza then followed Rose to the front door where a teenage boy answered it, exclaiming for his father. A man appeared, and after introducing himself to them, led them to the back and to the shed. The shed was filled with pictures and newspaper clips. 

“A lot of this stuff is quite sensitive. I can’t just send it to you. People might intercept it, if you know what I mean. If you dig deep enough and keep an open mind, this Doctor keeps popping up all over the place. Political diaries, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories. It appears to be an inheritance, the name that is. That's your Doctor there, isn't it?” He pulled out a photo that had a group of people, and the supposed mystery man behind the. Rose nodded, and grasped the photo to look closer. 

“April 1912. This is a photo of the Daniels family of Southampton, and friend. This was taken the day before they were due to sail off for the New World on the Titanic, for some unknown reason, they cancelled the trip and survived. They had said some man called the Doctor told them not to go on it.”

Eliza glanced around, taking in the sight of the room, and sighed. 

“There always seems to be something following him. Though out wherever he goes.” Clive continued, placing the photo back into its spot and leaned against the desk. 

“What’s that?” Eliza questioned the man, turning to look at him. 

“Death. “

-

They got back into the car, and Rose glanced at her phone, smiling. 

“Mickey is already on his way here, said he’s going to pick me up, apparently he’s taking me to lunch. You sure you’ll be fine on your own?” Rose questioned her friend. 

Eliza nodded, grabbed the keys from Rose’s pocket. “I’ll be good. Chances are I’ll probably stop at the chip shop down the road and get something before heading back home.”  They parted ways quickly, and Eliza drove off, headed to the restaurant that was down the road. Unknown to her, Mickey -well a weird looking version of him- and Rose were a few tables away as she sat down, opening the menu and glancing at it. Suddenly a fire alarm went off, and someone shouted to get out. 

After catching a glance at Rose, and making sure it was her, Eliza followed her out, grasping on to her sleeve. 

“What the fuck is going on?” she breathed out as they ended up outside in an alley, a seemingly ordinary blue box stood there. That was when she noticed the guy. It was the same one from the pictures, and boy was he cute. 

“The thing is following up! Use your tube thing!” Rose grasped the gate and tried to pull it open. 

“Nah, I think I’ll go in here!” The man called out, opening the door to the box, and Eliza didn't think twice before following him in. The inside was beautiful, and the girl let her hand rest on the wall, and could of sworn she heard it hum and a warmth filled her heart. 

“She’s beautiful.” She breathed out, looking at the man. He grinned at her, before taking a double take. 

“She is isn’t she?” He leaned against the console and they watched as Rose finally came in. Eliza tuned out their conversation, dropping her purse onto a seat and hoisting herself up onto the one besides it. 

“... follow the signal, hold on!” The man -the Doctor- it seemed, danced around the consol, pressing buttons and then pressed a lever and the box started to shake. The Doctor and Rose went out the doors, the man looking back at her. Eliza felt something inside her twist and churn. Her breathing picked up, going out in short breaths.

“Is it alright if I stay here, feeling a bit off.” She spoke, her stomach in knots and hands feeling clammy. He nodded, and shut the door, before what sounded like locking it. 

Eliza rested her head between her knees and focused on taking deep breaths. This whole thing, with the box and it moving, not to mention the man. Almost instantly, she was struck with pain in her head, and she was caught  in a flashback. 

[Gallifrey,age:407]

“Come on Gemini!” She could hear Theta call out to her from outside her room. She huffed, before going to her door and opening it. 

“You know, we have exams in the morning, and unlike some, I would l o v e to pass.” She quipped, a smirk growing on her face as she glanced at her friend. A pout formed on his face. 

“Come on! It’s just a little adventure to the fields! I’ll have you back in a bit! I promise!” he begged her, his voice quiet. Sighing softly, the young time lady grabbed her robe from the hook, slipped her shoes on and closed the door. 

“Better have me back in an hour or so.” She told him, before letting him grabbed her hand and leading her out of the building and to the fields. 

-

“Have you thought about if you would want to bond with someone?” The question came out of nowhere. Pausing to think about it, Gemini glanced up at the stars, curling closer to the boy. 

“I mean, if the time is right, then I suppose. There’s really only one person I could think about being bonded with.” She softly said, looking up at him. 

“What about you?” She asked. 

“Only one person in mind, he looked down at her, a smile on her face. “It’s you, you know. You’re the one that I could see myself being with for all of eternity.” a blush overcame his face. 

“I- Theta, I want you to be the one I bond with too. Nobody understands me like you. No one makes me happy like you do, and no one takes us on adventures like this. What if, say by the time we’re both 500 and we’re both not bonded, we’ll do it.” She states as she pulls herself closer to him. 

“Deal!”

Unknown to her, by the time the war was done and they were separated from each other, they were already 600 years old. At the time they were now, the time lady’s soul and memories had been in the watch for 300 years, and she had been human for a while. 

With a snap, she was back inside her own body, sobs escaping her lips. It was then that she heard the sound of the door opening and almost instantly the Doctor was beside her. 

“I- I don’t know what h-happened.” She sobbed out, taking shuddering breaths. Pressing his fingers to her head, she could feel  something pushing into her mind. A gasp escaped his lips as he pressed his forehead against hers. 

“Come on, I’ll take you to a room, so you can lay down.” 

-

What seemed like hours later, the door opened again and the man came in, sitting beside her. Eliza shoved herself up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. 

“What was that earlier? It was almost like I could feel you searching for something in my mind.” She spoke, glancing at him. 

He rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “I was searching for what caused you to react like that. What I found was impossible. There was no way that you should have had that go through your mind. I’m the only one left.” The last part was muttered. 

“Obviously it means something. I want to know what it means, and maybe it could be connected to my dream.” At that, a yawn escaped her lips. Glancing over to the clock, she could see that it was just past midnight. Her whole body felt sluggish and tired. 

“Think we can talk more in the morning, I am absolutely exhausted. Where’s Rose?” The Doctor reached over and turned the lamp off.

“I’ll be in the control room if you need me. Rose is in another room, I’ll be dropping you off in the morning, that is, if you don't want to go with us.”

“Where though?”

“Anywhere through time and space.”

-

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. Eliza spent hours tossing and turning before finally falling into a dreamless sleep. Voices woke her up slightly, they were speaking of the watch. 

You’re ready

Time to be free

Open it

You can be with him again

 She blinked, panicking a little bit as she fought to breathe. She wanted, no needed to open the watch. She wanted to know what was in it. Her watch laid on the nightstand next to her, The Doctor probably had been looking at it once she had fallen asleep. Dragging her body up, she could see it glowing gold, warmth pouring out if it. 

“What’s going on?” She muttered as she pulled herself out of bed and stood up. When she made contact with the watch, the warmth filled her body, and she let her mind drag her body out of the room. Upon getting to the hallway, the warmth started to get hotter and hotter, and she took a breath and forced herself to open it. It was time. 

 She could hear the Doctor and Rose talking a few feet from her, as she watched as gold mist came out of it and floated around her before entering her. 

The watch clattered to the floor as she forced herself to walk into the control room, and the Doctor finally noticed. Dropping whatever he had in his hands, he approached her carefully. The gold mist was burning at her, and she could see her fingertips start to glow. 

“Doctor! What’s going on with her?” Rose cried out, stepping closer, but the Doctor put his hand up. 

“She’s regenerating, stay back Rose.” His voice was filled with shock.

Fear filled her body as the glowing went further and further up her body. 

“I’m scared!” Eliza called out, voice pained. 

“You’ll be okay, deep breath okay?” 

It was then that the regeneration energy overcame over, forcing her head back as she felt her body start to change. As soon as it started, it was over. 

-

Her eyes opened, and she glanced at her feet. She was taller now. 

“At least I grew some.” Her new voice was different, her accent was a bit thicker. She could see the Doctor looking at her, love and amazement in his eyes. Eliza ran her hand through her hair, and ran over to the nearest mirror. Instead of being ginger, she was a blonde, well, dirty blonde. Her eyes were green. Everything seemed in order, then Rose’s voice reached her ears. 

“I’m sorry, but where is Eliza? What sort of magic is this?” 

“I’m right here Rose, just changed again.” Eliza reassured her friend. “I’m still me, just my time lord self is back.” Turning her attention to the Doctor, she walked up and rested her hand on his cheek. 

“It’s so good to be with you again. I’ve missed you Theata.” She dropped her voice to a whisper, and she felt him pull her into a tight hug. 

“So who are you then?” Rose asked, pulling herself up onto the jump seat. Eliza turned to look at the blonde, blushing when the Doctor threaded his fingers through hers. 

“I’m the Professor, I’m 950 years old, and this man, is my best friend in the whole universe.” She spoke, loving the feeling the way her title came out of  her mouth. 

“I’ve waited 500 years ..”

“I know, but with the time war, I had to get away my love. I thought you had died or would have died with that plan of yours.” She spoke, and then tears came to her eyes. “They’re gone aren’t they?” A nod.

Taking in a deep breath, she wiped the tears from her eyes, and turned to the Doctor, “Once I get changed into my proper attire, we can set off on an adventure? Just like the good old days.” She turned on her heels and set off for the wardrobe room. 

“Hello beautiful.” She greeted the TARDIS as she walked in, shutting the door quietly behind her. The Time Lady quickly changed into a white creme top,with black leggings and nude colored boots. Over the top was a beige jacket. She pulled her hair into a bun and stepped out of the room. 

“So she’s basically your wife, though it’s not official yet?” She could hear Rose's question. Stepping into the control room, she answered,

“The war broke out before we could bond with each other, but I still want to if he wants to.” 

“I’m never letting you go again.” Was his promise. 

Up from the consol appeared a sonic screwdriver, almost identical to the Doctor’s, but with a white tip instead of blue. 

“Alright, so next stop Rose Tyler, where do you want to go?” The Professor questioned, a grin on her face as she let her hands rest over the buttons. 

This next adventure was bound to be amazing.