#I will listen to literally any song and go hmm bet I can turn this into a dr thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hwangsies · 4 years ago

Text

zephyr

(n) a gentle breeze

pairing: seo changbin x female reader (hwang hyunjin x female reader)

genre: rebound to fwb to dumbasses to lovers(?), college!au, undergroundrappers!3racha

warnings: angst: mentions of infidelity, heartbreak and abuse, seemingly unrequited love, they are both so dumb and prideful its annoying, fluff, bad attempt at comedy, minsung on the side, cursing, alcohol consumption, smut: protected piv, oral (f), studio sex, praise, mild degradation, hair pulling, mild spanking

wc: 10k

enjoy <3

September

"y/n?" you hear your roommates faint voice calling out your name.

You dont bother to answer because you know she's going to come into your room at any second now.

And you're right. "y/n??" Your door opens a few seconds later.

You groan in response, not looking up and instead staying in your little cocoon of blankets.

"no babygirl what are you doing?" you feel the bed shift under lias weight when she sits down.

"what does it look like i'm doing?" you grumble back, her hand gently rubbing over your arm.

"sulking, babe" she replies, dropping her purse to the ground.

"10 points for griffyndor" you sniffle as you scooch and sit up, pushing the blankets half off of you at which she sighs.

"wooyoung was not that good of a boyfriend for you to still be crying over him" lia presses her lips together concernedly.

She's right, you know it. It has almost been two months and you still feel like crying everytime someone mentions him.

"i know" you nod somewhat defeatedly "still, i was with him for almost a year and" you hiccup "he literally ripped my heart out and trampled on it"

"i know" lia nods understandingly "but i do think it would help if you went out again, even if its just for a night, you know just to be around people"

"it probably would but i just dont have the energy for it" you shrug your shoulders.

"i get it, girl, i really do" she pats your knee "both of my exes cheated on me, my only luck was that they were both awful at hiding it so i found out pretty quickly" she huffs.

You force out a chuckle, from what you heard from one of the girls that wooyoung cheated on you with, was that it started 3 months into your relationship.

"this the most humiliating thing ever, lia" you scoff "being with someone for so long, trusting them and telling them all your secrets and you think they are doing the same for you but then realizing that they were faking it all along to have multiple side chicks, and the fact that i was too oblivious to figure it out is the icing on the cake" you rub your forehead, feeling a migrane approach due to the sheer amount of crying you've been doing.

She seems to know what's happening and hands you the water bottle next to your bed "hydrate, sis"

So, you do. Taking four big gulps out of the water bottle.

Once you place the bottle next to you and tie your hair in a messy bun, you look at your roommate more thuroughly now that the tears are wiped away.

"you look pretty" you compliment her makeup and casual yet chic outfit "what'd you do tonight?"

Her contagious grin spreads over her face, eyes turning into little crescents.

"chris took me to the fair in town" lia grins before her face drops "I'm sorry, this is maybe not the time to ta-"

"No! It is, tell me about it" you interrupt her.

"O-okay" she nods hesitantly "well, i dont know if you've been keeping track but today was our fourth date and it was amazing" she gushes.

"I cant believe how much i like him, like, its crazy" she squeals a little, at which you giggle.

"so, fourth date huh? And he hasnt tried to get into your pants yet?" you quip.

"nope, i initiated our first kiss and other than that nothing" she whispers the last words before laughing.

"thats great" you smile, genuinely happy for her.

"Hmm yea" she sings as she gets up "i'll go to bed now too"

"Oh, hey, i have an idea" lia speaks up when standing in your doorway "chris has this performance thingy in two days, you should totally come!" she offers enthusiastically.

"he has a band?" you ask, partly to distract her from her offer.

"Hmm not really a band, they're a trio and there is this performance on saturday where a bunch of underground artists perform, i didnt fully listen if im honest" she giggles "but you should come with me!!" she jumps excitedly.

"i dont kno-"

"y/n pleasee? You'd do me a huge favor too because i dont know anyone there" lia pleads, clutchig her hands together.

"you know chris" you rebuttal.

"and what am i supposed to do when he's performing? stand around like an idiot? please y/n" she pouts.

"I dont really think this is my type of crowd..." you scratch your head.

"please please please" she jumps once more.

You sigh and tilt your head as you look at her sternly.

"one of his friends is single" she adds carefully.

"and cute" she sings "from what ive seen in pictures" she adds.

"lia" you groan.

"I'll do your laundry for two weeks if you come with me"

"you will?" Your head snaps towards her.

"yes i will! i promise, just come with me, please?"

A long sigh leaves your lips "okay"

The strong bass of the loud music rings in your chest as soon as you step foot into the club where “3racha” is supposed to be performing tonight.

Lia comes to a halt and you almost run into her because you were to busy checking out the venue and the other people around you.

“sorry” you mumble and hold onto her arm to avoid getting lost in the crowd.

She pulls out her phone and clicks on her and hers and chris’s chat, to figure out where to meet them, you assume.

“okay” lia puts her phone back into her jeans pocket and grabs your hand “they’re backstage, lets go”

“can we just go there?” you almost yell for her to understand what you’re saying.

“yea! Chris said he’ll make sure we’ll get in, come on” she tugs at your hand for you to walk faster.

You waddle behind her, barely dodging some drunk guys beer that goes flying before you arrive at the sign that says “artists only” and a black curtain behind it.

The guy standing infront of it raises a brow at the two of you before pointing at said sign “read ladies, no fans allowed”

“hey, they’re with me” a guy, you assume to be chris, taps on his shoulder and shows his artists badge, half of his body still covered by the curtain.

The bigger guy sighs and lets you through.

“thank you” lia lets go of your hand to loop her arms around chris’s neck once behind the curtain, they kiss and you look around.

Not because you are particularly uncomfortable, maybe still just a little bitter at happy couples.

You audibly clear your throat when they are still making out after a good ten seconds.

“oh-uhm” lia looks back at you after breaking the kiss “chris, this is y/n, y/n, chris” she giggles.

“hi y/n, nice to meet you” he gives you a quick hug and a smile full of dimples, finally understanding why your roommate is always swooning about him.

“hi” you smile back, somewhat forced.

“lets go to our dressingroom” chris suggests and leads the way.

Opening the door, he lets you and lia walk in first.

One guy is dancing around in the middle of the room, singing along to the current song that’s being played in the background with a water bottle as a pretend mic.

Another is one sitting on the small couch and laughing at him.

“oh, hi” the guy stops singing and quickly hides the bottle behind himself at which chris chuckles.

“guys, this is lia and y/n” chris points at the two of you before closing the door behind him.

“ooo the lia?” the waterbottle guy wiggles his eyebrows, at which you cant help but laugh as well, he isn’t very tall but looks lean.

“what is the lia supposed to mean?” lia laughs when chris comes up and slings an arm around her waist from behind her.

“I..well-I talk about you sometimes-“

“sometimes my ass” the guy sitting on the couch scoffs amusedly, your eyes shift to him.

He’s wearing a white baseball cap and a pretty tight fitted black Versace shirt, making his shoulders and arms look broad.

His hands clad in black half-gloves, he adjusts his cap before locking eyes with you and quickly looking down again.

“channie hyung must’ve forgotten his manners, I’m jisung” the waterbottle guy speaks up “and that’s changbin hyung” he points at the most intimidating-looking of the three of them, on the couch.

“channie?” lia squeals as she sits down with chris on the couch changbin is sitting on as well, jisung coming up to you.

“hey, you want something to drink?” he asks, pointing at the mini bar feigning cockiness “we have a mini bar”

“woow” you chuckle, playing along “sure I’d love a drink”

“how come we’ve never met on campus before?” jisung asks after mixing you a vodka soda and sitting down on the second couch in the room.

“oh, you all go to uni here as well?” you ask surprisedly as you sit down next to him..

“yea” he grins “that’s how we all met” he points at lia and chris almost sitting on top of each other “and those two”

“oh I didn’t even know that” you take a sip, trying to loosen up “I guess I wasn’t listening when she was ranting on about him”

Jisung laughs and changbin joins the two of you as he sits down next to jisung.

“they just started calling each other bubs I feel like throwing up” changbin groans as he drinks from his beer.

You huff before jisung speaks again, looking from his friend back to you “he’s usually more romantic” he quips.

“I bet” you joke with him.

“yup” changbin locks eyes with you “that’s why I’m single, I’m just too romantic” he shakes his head sarcastically.

“ooh” you squint your eyes “emotional unavailability? love that in a man” you grin, at which his eyebrow quirks up amusedly.

“speaking of man, did minho hyung text you when he’d be here?” jisung asks his friend.

“yea he said he’ll be here in 5 and that you should finally buy a new phone” changbin answers, reading it from his phone at which jisung scoffs before turning to you.

“minho is my boyfriend” he explains “he’s hot” he grins at which you laugh “I bet”

“so, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?” jisung asks after taking a sip of his drink

“not anymore” you scoff, jisung inhales excitedly “guess what, changbin is single as well” he grins from ear to ear, comically looking back and forth between you two.

“oh, please dont start like lia” you chuckle, leaning forwards to lock eyes with changbin “no offense, but I only attract assholes”

He shakes his head, amusedly raising his brows “none taken” he grins at which you huff before a young woman comes into their dressing room to tell them they’re up next.

Back in the crowd, you and lia find a good place just as the lights dim and the music begins to play.

Suddenly you feel someone run into your side “woah I’m sorry” he quickly apologizes “this guy pushed me” he looks behind him.

“its alright” you nod, loud enough for him to hear.

Once they come outside, the crowd goes wild.

“jisungieee” the guy next to you all over sudden screams, you have to smile when looking at him.

“are you minho by any chance?” you ask him.

He nods aggressively “yea! do you know jisung?”

“I just met him backstage” you yell over the loud bass.

Minho laughs and nods before the bass drops and chris starts the first verse.

“he’s great right?” lia screams into your ear when the first chorus ends.

“yea” you nod, actually surprised at how good their music is, now understanding as to why the crowd loves them so much.

Changbin starts his verse and suddenly you feel somewhat entranced, his voice is rough and his bars are hard, definitely fitting his appearance but what entices you is the passion with which he appears to be performing.

Throughout their whole performance you cant take your eyes off him, the way his arms flex when he grips onto the microphone a little harder or the way his jugular sticks out when he growls into the microphone.

Not to mention the thighs you somehow didn’t notice in their dressing room, you watch them strain against his leather pants and feel even hotter suddenly.

Their last song ends and lia is quick to be in your ear about going backstage to chris again.

“oh you know chan hyung?” minho overhears and chimes in.

“yea she’s his date” you point at your overly excited roommate.

“changbin just texted and said they’re upstairs in the vip lounge, come with me” the brunette holds out his hand for you to take, which you do and grab lia with the other one.

“do you know where you’re going?” you ask minho after a minute of pressing yourself along sweaty dancing bodies.

“yea! they’re here a lot” he yells back “its right over there” he points to a flight of stairs where yet another bouncer is standing in front of.

“hey minho” the bouncer greats him with a fist bump “these girls are with you?” he points at lia and you.

“yea” he nods.

“trying something new, I see” he laughs atw hich you frown.

“oh, nono” minho chuckles uncomfortably “I’m still with jisung”

“ah-alright well, have fun” the bouncer moves after looking you all up and down, letting you walk up the stairs.

“wow, you’re famous” lia giggles at which minho huffs and shakes his head amusedly “yea, for being the only non-straight person they know”

“baby” you see jisung jump up from his seat in the spacious lounge as soon as you enter.

“hii” minho holds out his arms for him to run into, you cant stop yourself from smiling when you see jisung jump into his boyfriends arms.

“lia, y/n come over here” chris waves at the two of you.

“you were so good, baby” you hear minho praise jisung behind you as you walk over to the large round sitting booth where chan and changbin are sitting.

Lia slides into the booth and cuddles into chans side “you were awesome” she squeals as you sit down on the other end and grab a fresh glass from the middle of the round table, holding it next to changbins where he’s pouring cherry vodka into.

“can i get some?” you ask, he glances at you and smirks before silently filling your glass with a double shots worth of the slightly rosy liquid.

“so, how did you like it?” he asks as he leans back, taking a swing of his drink.

“you guys were really good” you nod “to be honest I didn’t expect such high quality music”

He laughs, leaning his head back a little, his adams apple bopping with it.

You cant help but notice the sheer sheen of sweat that expands over his thick neck, obviously coming from their escapades on stage just now.

“what did you expect? a bunch of drunks playing wonderwall on the guitar for more drunks?” he grins, straight white teeth on display.

“hey, don’t come for wonderwall” you raise your hand jokingly at which he laughs.

“I wouldn’t dare” he raises his hands comically.

“hey” you whip your head around to see jisung and minho “scoot, please” jisung speaks again.

“oh-yea” you grab your drink and scoot further into the half circle-shaped booth.

“so what do you study?” changbin asks, his voice catches you off guard because you hadn’t calculated how close you’re sitting to him.

You turn to him to realise you’re close enough to smell his perfume and aftershave.

“uh- I- art” you answer shakily before taking a sip of your drink just to pull a face afterwards.

“jesus christ” you cough a little and hold your chest as changbin laughs.

“its stronger than you’d think” he grins “can you handle it?” he teases when your eyes get a little watery.

You stare at him for a second before playfully rolling your eyes “im good”

His eyes trace over your face as you look around before he breaks the silence ”i can get you something else if you want” he offers.

“oh-uh no, I’m just being dramatic its fine” you chuckle.

“so...what do you study?” you change the topic.

“I’m majoring in music” he says, stretching out his arms over the backrest “all three of us are”

“oh, so you like, produce all your own stuff?” you ask, your eyes jumping to where his forearm touches your shoulder, that’s leaning against the backrest.

“yea, channie hyung composes the most, me and ji write a lot” he explains,

“thats really cool” you nod, looking over to the mentioned guy.

Changbin follows your eyes and huffs when the both of you see him and your roommate sucking face again.

After a few seconds they stop and giggle before standing up to go somewhere.

“where are they going?” you huff.

“I guess they want some alone time” he chuckles, lifting the arm close to you to take off the cap he’s still wearing.

You flinch when his forearm brushes your shoulder.

“are you scared of me?” he asks slowly, stopping his movements, cap still in hand.

“no- no” you shake your head, chuckling “I- its just been a while since I’ve gone out and I don’t know” you shrug “I feel a little lost”

“hm” changbin cocks his brow at your words, running one hand through his dark brown locks.

You divert your eyes from his bulging bicep back to his face quickly when he speaks again.

“any reason why?” he leans back again.

“oh, just a shitty ex and a shitty breakup” you shrug “I’m gonna spare you the details”

“aw, no please, tell me he had a small dick and everything, now im invested” he jokes.

You tsk at him and push his arm playfully, feigning annoyance.

“that still doesn’t answer my question as to why you jumped like that when my arm touched you” changbin raises his brows expectantly.

You open your mouth to speak but-

“we’ll go get some more to drink” minho interrupts you at which changbin nods.

“so?” he asks again, once minho and jisung leave.

“did that ex hit you? give me his address I’ll beat him up for you” changbin deadpans.

“no” you shake your head after taking another sip “he didn’t” you huff incredulously.

“its just- you look kinda scary” you blurt out finally.

His eyes widen before he falls into a boyish laughter, which you cant help but join.

“me?” he points at himself before laughing again, the image you had made up in your mind about him cracking.

“yea!” you raise your brows “when you look like this” you furrow your brows and lightly squint your eyes to mimic his resting bitch face.

“what the-” he splutters laughingly.

“stoop, don’t laugh” you hold onto his forearm, still giggling yourself.

He calms himself, subconsciously scooting closer to you in the now empty booth.

“maybe scary wasn’t the right word” you snicker, looking down.

“I think the word you were looking for was: sexy, hot or mysterious, maybe handsome-” he quips, grinning to himself when you start laughing again.

“no, no, I know what I meant” you joke back, just now noticing how close he is, his knee touching yours as his whole torso is turned to you.

“so none of my suggestions are accurate?” he cheekily raises one brow at which you scoff playfully.

“maybe one or two” you see his eyes jump to your lips.

The air suddenly feels thick around you with tension, changbins tongue darting out to wet his plump bottom lip while his eyes are still locked on yours.

You breathe in before the two of you lock eyes again "so…are you gonna kiss me, or just stare?"

He raises his brows at your sudden boost of confidence, grinning amusedly.

"what happened to me being scary?" he counters before urging you to swing one leg over his thighs with gentle hands.

You take a seat on his lap, straddling his thick thighs before looping your arms around his neck "i dont know, i think i'm into it" you quip.

His hands wander up your waist "well then i wont make you wait any longer" he grins, looking at your lips one last time before closing the gap inbetween you two.

You meet him in the middle, changbins grip on your waist tightens when his plush lips land on yours.

He pulls you closer to him, pushing his tongue past the seam of your lips.

You can taste the cherry vodka on his tongue but it riles you up even more, sucking at the wet muscle before his hands wander over the swell of your ass and each grab a handful of the flesh; your short skirt riding up when you subconsciously grind against his lap.

“be careful” he mumbles against your lips, gently tugging down the piece of fabric so you don’t expose yourself to bywalkers.

“where’s the fun in that?” you cock your head to the side teasingly.

Changbin scoffs and leans in again but you get interrupted by jisung.

“hey, we-oh” you whip your head around.

Jisungs frown turns into a grin “uh” he chuckles “we dont mean to interrupt but chan hyung texted minho and they’re going to your place” he points at you.

“ugh, seriously?” you mutter.

“I’m sleeping at minhos so, hyung you’ll have our place to yourself” he winks at changbin.

“so, we’re out too, have fun you guys” minho waves teasingly as jisung drags him away.

For a second you stare after them, until a gentle squeeze at your waist makes you turn around again.

“you could come over to my place if you don’t want to go to yours right now” he offers, eyes flickering to your lips when you bite at your lower one.

This is usually like not you, letting some guy you barely know take you home.

But here you are the next morning, looking up at the ceiling, changbins room flooded with daylight.

You sit up and look at the still unconscious changbin next to you. His blanket had fallen down and exposes his toned torso, barely covering his private parts.

A tingle forms in your lower abdomen when you think of what happened here a few hours ago.

But you pull yourself together and start looking around for your clothes.

You spot your bra on his desk and your skirt and shoes on the floor, gently shimmying out from underneath the blanket; you grab your skirt and slide it on without your panties, not being able to find them anywhere.

Right as you clasp your bra behind your back, changbins morning voice makes you flinch “you would’ve just snuck out?” he grumbles, rubbing his eyes as you look back at him.

“what? did you take me for a breakfast lover?” you quip as you slide into your shoes, looking around for your shirt.

“damn, that’s cold” he chuckles lowly, sitting up and watching you stride around his room.

“where did you put my shirt?” you ask, bending down to look under his desk.

“maybe you should worry about your panties first” he snickers, eyes glued to your core when you look back at him.

You kiss your teeth and straighten up quickly, having forgotten about your lack of underwear.

“not that that wasn’t a great view just now-“

“you’re not helping” you interrupt him, eyes lighting up when you spot your shirt in the hallway.

“why so serious all over sudden?” he grins “last night you were everything but tense”

You scoff as you pull your shirt over your head and stuff it into your skirt before grabbing your purse and phone.

“I have an exam in 2 days and I haven’t studied yet” you exhale.

“I could drive you home-“ he runs a hand through his messy hair.

“I’ll call a cab, uhm- thanks for last night” you hurriedly smile before walking out.

“bye” changbin calls after you, frowning and dropping back down onto his bed when he hears the door shut behind you “have a nice day I guess” he mumbles to himself.

October

You cling your jacket closer to your body as you walk through the howling wind the seasonal change had brought with it.

When you arrive at lias faculty building you take out your phone to see if she texted you about when her lecture would be over.

lia : hey babe, chris took me to his place -received at 4:17 pm

You roll your eyes, typical you think.

you : are you serious? you begged me to walk home with you -sent at 4:25 pm

You see her the little blue bubble pop up, indicating that she’s writing a message.

lia : im sorry!! please don’t be mad, he surprised me :((( -received at 4:25 pm

You scoff and turn off your phone before slipping it in your coats pocket alongside your hands. Typical, you think, ever since that night at the club the two of them have become inseparable and lia cancelling on you had become a regular thing. You are happy for her but you also miss your friend.

“y/n?” a familiar voice calls after you right as you start to walk away, you freeze and turn around.

“yea?- oh” you swallow harshly when you see changbin walk your way.

“hey” he smiles brightly and you have to bite back a grin at the cute beanie he’s sporting alongside his slightly red nose due to the cold weather.

“hi” you smile timidly.

“you never texted” he tilts his head at which you nod.

“yea, sorry I actually never got your number” you look at the ground “uh- what are you doing here?”

“oh um im on my way to the studio” he points at a nearby building “that’s the music faculty”

“ah okay, well” you lock eyes “have fun then” you turn around again, ready to walk away.

“hey” he catches up with you “you wanna join me? check out some of our new stuff?” he burries his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I don’t know, changbin I really don’t want to date right now-“ you start at which he chuckles.

“I didn’t ask you to marry me” he stops in his tracks, grinning when you do as well, locking eyes “come on, I just need an unbiased opinion on some new tracks” he tilts his head.

You inhale before looking around you “I could drive you home after? So you don’t have to walk through this weather?” he offers, raising his brows at which you purse your lips.

“alright” you give in, changbin smiles and extends his elbow for you to hold.

You simper and coyly hook your hand around his arm as the two of you start walking.

“this is awesome!” you point to his laptop a minute after he played the first song for you.

Changbin grins bashfully and leans back into his desk chair “you think?”

“yea, the hook is super catchy” you bob your head as his eyes fix on your profile “you’re really talented, changbin” you catch him blushing before putting on another song.

After a few other songs, he takes off his headphones when you take off yours.

“can I ask you something?” he asks, you glance at him.

“you just did” you quip at which he huffs, “sure” you nod.

“how much of that night do you remember?” he fiddles with one of the rings on his left hand.

“why?” you ask back.

“well, you seemed really upset the next morning so I got kind of scared that you didn’t actually want it and I kind of took advantage of you” he recalls the night the two of you spent together.

“oh, no. you didn’t take advantage of me, I wasn’t even drunk and I would’ve told you if I had changed my mind or something. That was just the first time I ever spent the night at a guys house for a one night stand” you absently pick off some fuzzies from your jeans.

“plus I had just come out of a relationship so I was a little too emotional anyways” you chuckle.

“alright” changbin nods “just wanted to make sure” he smiles down at his hands “cause I remember all of it”

You whip your head, scoffing when you see him with a shit eating grin on his face.

“hm” you feign ignorance as you lean back “I don’t know, there wasn’t a lot to remember” you grin mischievously.

He laughs out loud, leaning forwards “no?”

You shake your head, pursing your lips comically “nah”

“cause I remember you shaking and screaming” he grins.

You shrug your shoulders “weird, must’ve faked it” you deadpan, fiddling with the headphones you’re still holding.

Changbins tongue prods on the inside of his cheek, huffing when he catches you grinning.

“right” he grins slumping into his seat a little further.

A thought flashes in your head when your gaze drops to his crotch and thick thighs, you swallow some spit in frustration as you feel your core getting hotter.

He was right, the night was amazing, maybe that was even part of the reason you stormed out the way you did.

You clench your thighs for some relief, anything really.

“want me to refresh your memory?” your eyes jump up to meet his, you open your mouth but nothing comes out; do you want him to?

Yes. Yes you do.

So, you get up and straddle him on his chair: his hands instantly gripping at your hips, pulling you closer.

“someones eager” he grins, pushing some of your hair behind your ear.

“shut up” you whisper before crashing your lips onto his.

Changbin groans when you tug at his hair, inviting you to slip your tongue in between his lips and grind your hips over his crotch.

He hisses before propping himself up on one armrest and holding your lower back with the other as he stands up; you squeal but he holds you before sitting you back down on the desk, next to his laptop.

“now who’s eager” you grin when his hands find the waistband of your leggings and tug them down with your panties in one.

He huffs as he bunches your leggings and panties around your ankles before slipping underneath the fabric barrier and inbetween your legs.

“by the looks of it..” he runs a finger through your wet folds “still you” he quips before pushing one finger in without warning.

You moan, you head dropping back onto the hard wooden surface.

“look at me” changbin orders as a second finger prods at your entrance, you whimper but prop yourself up on your elbows.

He curls the two fingers and pumps them almost violently, the palm of his hand smacking your clit with every pump.

“oh god-“ you yelp, your eyes scrunching together as your hips buck up.

“its changbin but god is fine too” he quips as he lowers his head, you curse at him, even though you have to laugh a little.

“you’re so annoy-ah!” you cry out because suddenly his tongue is lapping over your swollen clit, sucking on it forcefully when you claw one hand into his already messed up dark locks.

“fuck-bin- gonna cum” your hips stutter and you feel the pleasure that’s blooming in your tummy is getting ready to snap.

“mmh” he humms against you “cum then, baby” he moans, knowing full well what the added vibrations are doing to your body when your chest arches and your mouth drops open.

Your cries fill the studio as you clamp down on his fingers; he rides your through your high, holding down your hips with his unoccupied hand because you squirm with the euphoria that’s filling your veins.

“good girl” he mumbles, removing his fingers from you before bringing them up to your lips “now, suck them clean for me, yea?” he grins, lips and chin shiny with your cum.

“finally” you huff when arriving at 3rachas lounge in a club out of town; where they had just performed “this club is huge” you breathe, jisung scooting and changbin letting you squeeze past him to take a seat in between them as they chuckle.

Lia and chan already lost in their own world again as she drags him to the dancefloor, squealing when chan teasingly squeezes her sides as they disappear into the crowd.

“they are made for each other” minho sighs, sitting down and giving jisung the second beer from his hands.

“I know right” you lean back, breathing in.

“you’re still out of breath?” changbin laughs at you at which you hit his arm.

“stop it, oh my god” you feign annoyance “you know how exhausting it is to dodge beer bottles and not loose lia? she’s like a Chihuahua, I swear, you loose her once and its over” you chuckle, jisung and minho laughing too.

“you just don’t have any endurance, woman” changbin grins teasingly.

“that’s so not true” you laugh incredulously “what about two nights ago-“

“AH-“ jisung interrupts you, placing his hands over his ears “please spare us your sex stories, I hear enough of that when you’re over, babe”

You huff and changbins cheeks turn red.

“you guys are fucking?” minho asks, eyebrows raised as he takes a swing of his beer.

“good job keeping up, baby” jisung pats his boyfriends thigh teasingly at which he tsks at him.

“are you together or what?” minho props his elbow on the table to support his chin with his hand as he looks at the two of you expectantly.

“no, we’re not” you chuckle somewhat uncomfortably before looking over at changbin who just grins awkwardly.

“just here to be a good friend and keep the groupies away” you joke “right?” you nudge changbin with your elbow at which he nods swiftly, looking down again.

“yea, baby don’t be so old fashioned” jisung teases his boyfriend who just rolls his eyes playfully.

“speaking of groupies” minho mutters, spotting a group of girls just before they approach the lounge.

“hey jisungie, you wanna dance?” a pretty blonde girl bats her eyelashes as she leans down a bit to expose more of her cleavage, making jisung grin.

“baby, you’re gorgeous but I’m very gay” he nods apologetically, “Oh” she straightens up “really? You sure?”

You and changbin have to bite back a laugh when jisung nods again “very sure, thanks though, for coming”

She shrugs and looks at changbin “what about you? Wanna dance?”

“uh-“ changbin starts but you cut him off “he’s with me actually” you tilt your head.

“for real?” she stems her hands into her hips as she looks back at her posse, scoffing.

“yea” changbin loops his strong arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him “that’s my girl, so a little respect, please”

“aww” you coo dramatically as you play along, putting your hand on his jaw to turn his head towards you before you lock lips.

“whatever” you faintly hear the girls voice get quieter when changbin slips his tongue in between your lips.

“they’re gone” you hear minho but changbin pulls your legs to dangle over one of his thighs as he grips your waist.

“guys” jisungs voice only registers in the back of your head when changbin sucks at your bottom lip and you run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“can I get you some more beers?” the waitresses voice pulls the both of you out of your trance as you break the kiss abruptly.

Jisung laughs, shaking his head at the both of you before turning to the waitress “we’ll take a round of shots I think”

November

“fuck-harder” you gasp “..mhh binnie-shit” you moan while changbin pounds into you from behind, gripping your hip tighter with one of his hands; the other one migrating up your back to gather the legth of your hair, twisting them before he pulls at their root.

You groan when you feel your hair getting pulled back, neck stretching as he picks up his pace.

“like this? fuck you love this don’t you?” he breaths ragged, but you can hear the dirty smirk that lingers on his lips every time you have rough sex..

You moan out loudly when he releases your hair and pushes your torso down onto the mattress, your hand pulling at the sheets , needing something to grip and release the pleasure.

“fuck- answer me, slut” he grunts and delivers a harsh slap to your ass.

You cry out “yes-yes-fuck-love it” you desperately gasp as he leans down to you, earning a low chuckle which sends shivers down your back.

His lips latch onto your shoulder blade and start sucking on the skin until a purple mark blooms under his lips.

“fuck” you let out a strangled yell when the hand on your hip makes its way to your front and he started circling your clit with his fingers, the pace and firmness matching his thrusts.

You cry out for him as you clench furiously around his cock “that’s a good girl” he whispers, only letting go of your clit when you flinch in overstimulation.

“cum for me- fuck baby, cum for me and let the others know who’s fucking you this good” he rasps in your ear. Not 5 seconds later, your orgasm ripples through you and you would’ve collapsed completely if he wasn’t holding you up.

You’re still panting when both of his hands go back on your hips and push them down, laying you flat on the mattress before he picks up his pace again with his last left strength to reach his own high.

“shit- y/n“ he grunts when you tighten around him again and you feel him filling the condom with some drawn out groans and a sharp hiss.

After a few seconds of nothing but heavy breathing filling the room, he pulls out and falls next to you on his bed.

You wince at the soreness that’s already presenting itself when you turn around on your back, looking over to him; you watch as he ties a knot in the condom and throws it into the trash next to his desk.

“kobe!” he exclaims gleefully at his perfect throw before looking back at you to see if you saw.

“jesus christ why am I sleeping with you” you hold your hands over your face, hating the fact that it made you laugh.

He gasps, feigning to be offended “that’s not how you speak to the guy that just made you cum three times”

“you are so full of yourself, seo changbin” you shake your head amusedly as you sit up.

“wait, I’ll clean you up” changbin is quick to rise from his comfortable position to grab some tissues from his nightstand.

“come here” he mumbles, gently urging you to lie back down before carefully wiping your own cum off your inner thighs and mound.

You watch him as he gently moves to wipe the tissue over your puffy folds, your hips jumping a little when he accidentally passes your clit.

“sorry” he grins, pressing a kiss to your angled knee; at which you feel your heart lurch forward a bit.

Woah, wait.

You’ve been seeing changbin just for sex for almost two months now, you’ve even gone with him other performances and after parties to keep groupies away and be his arm candy and never has your heart done this.

Mayday. Abort mission.

“should be good for now” changbin shrugs, shooting you a sweet smile before turning away from you to also get rid of the tissues.

You use the opportunity to shuffle to the side of his bed and slip on your panties before grabbing your bra.

“hey, you wanna leave already?” changbin asks “I thought we could hang” he tucks his hand under his head as you look back at him, clipping your bra closed “watch a movie or something”

“sorry, I promised lia I’d help her clean the apartment today” you lie, surprisingly quick, before pulling your hoodie over your head.

“so you’re just gonna fuck me and leave again?” he jokes dramatically “I don’t even get cuddles?”

“shut up” you chuckle.

“am I nothing more to you than a pretty piece of meat?” he continues as you slip into your jeans, rolling your eyes playfully.

“a toy you use when you need stress relief??” he holds his chest dramatically.

You step into your shoes and raise your brows at him.

“are you complaining?” you ask playfully.

“nahh” he pulls his covers over his abs as he watches you grab your jacket from his desk chair.

"At least give me a 'gopdbye, thanks for the bomb dick, kiss" He grins when you scoff at him. So, you lean over him and press a quick peck to his lips; he whines playfully when you lean back up again, sitting up and catching your lips with his roughly once more.

“alright, see ya” you shrug."

And shit, your heart does it again. What are you doing?

You break the kiss and ruffle through his hair.

“ugh” he huffs annoyedly, fixing his hair “I hope you have trouble walking” he quips as you go for the door.

“I’ll text you if I don’t” you wink at him before closing his door, leaning against it from the outside and closing your eyes.

“fuck” you whisper to yourself before making your way through the guys apartment.

“don’t break his heart, y/n” minhos voie comes from behind as you twist the doorknob.

“huh?” you trun around to look at him, he’s wearing a shirt that you know to be jisungs so he must be staying over.

“I’ve known changbin for a while, he seems tough but he’s a softie deep down” he crosses his arms over his chest “he hurts easier than you think”

“we- we’re both not in this for anything serious” you stammer “what do you mean?”

“I see the way he looks at you, y/n” minho smiles softly “I’m not telling you how to live your life, just, be honest with him… and yourself for that matter” he quirks one brow up, smiling before disappearing around the corner.

You squint your eyes as you’re trying to make out the label of the cereal boxes in the upper shelves, looking back at your phone you check to see what brand lia had texted you about so you don’t accidentally buy the wrong thing.

“fuck” you mumble when you see her desired cereal at the top of the shelf, so you reach up but to no avail.

“y/n?” you lower your heels to the floor again before turning around to see…

“hyunjin?” you face drops in awe.

“hey!” the tall young man smiles widely, opening his arms and inviting you to a hug.

“wow, hi” you hug him back.

Damn, what happened to him? The last time you saw him was before he moved away in 10th grade.

You used to be good friends with him, or, well, the freakishly skinny and lanky highschool version of him you met in dance class.

By the feel of it, even through the trenchcoat he’s wearing, you can tell he’s bulked up quite a bit.

After letting go of him, you cant help but stare.

His acne had cleared up and his brown hair is chin length with the top parts pulled back into a little pony tail, leaving some face framing strands in the front.

“wow- you look-“ you blink a few times to make sure you’re not dreaming “…really good, hyunjin”

He smiles on the ground, his pretty plump lips parting to reveal beautiful pearly whites which used to be covered by braces.

“so do you” he grins.

“no- I mean you look… good-good” you splutter, laughing awkwardly “like what are you a model now or something?”

“actually, yea- part time” he chuckles.

“oh” you huff “wow of course” you shake your head laughingly, blushing furiously when he doesn’t break eye contact.

“so- uhm” you gulp, making him grin even wider “what are you doing here?”

“I’m transferring here” he nods “better dance programme” he explains shortly.

“oh you still dance” you observe out loud “I haven’t danced in a while” you look down.

“you should come by after practice sometime” he offers “to catch up- or dance if you want” he giggles, a little dimple appearing on his left cheek.

“yea, I’d love that” you smile, nodding before he takes out his phone.

“put in your number, I’ll text you” he smiles softly when holding it out to you.

“mhm” you agree, saving your number in his phone and trying not to think about him staring at you the whole time.

“alright well” he checks his phone for the time, you guess “I gotta get going, only came here for this” he chuckles, holding up a carton of milk that you, weirdly enough, haven’t noticed until now.

“alright” you nod before he moves in for a hug again.

“bye” he smiles when loosening his arms again.

“bye” you mumble, staring at the back of his perfect head as he walks away.

You were about to pull out your phone and rant to lia about what just happened, when he stops in his tracks and turns around.

“almost forgot” he grins, reaching up and getting your cereal from the top shelf; winking when he places it in your hands, your body freezing.

“bye” he grins, walking away before you could thank him.

You had taken hyunjin up on his offer and met him in the dance studio after class where he showed you some of his contemporary pieces before you made your way to the popular coffee shop on campus together.

“-no seriously the second piece was my favourite I think, but they were all amazing!” you smile up at him at which he shakes his head cutely.

“can you stop complimenting me, y/n I’m getting all nervous” he laughs softly.

“oh please” you quip “with your talent and looks I would think nothing could make you nervous” you roll your eyes playfully.

Hyunjin huffs, opening the coffee shops door for you “you can” he says softly as you walk past him, you turn around to him to see him blush a litte but diverting his eyes to the big menu above the counter.

Did he just flirt with you? No, you must be tripping.

You look around to see only two other people sitting in one of the booths together, the cold must keep most people home, you think before hyunjin gently pulls at your sleeve to get your attention.

“what do you want?” he asks, the barista looking at you expectantly.

“uhm- a hot chocolate please” you say, reaching in your purse to get your wallet.

“I’ll take the same” hyunjin smiles politely, giving the barista money.

“on me” he smiles down at you.

“oh, thank you” you smile sheepishly, letting go of your purse again.

Once your hot chocolates are ready, you sit down in one of the booths, hyunjin sliding in to sit across from you.

“I was back home last week before I came here, you’ll never guess who I met” hyunjin grins.

“who?” you ask curiously.

“tim” he grins.

“tim?” your eyes almost pop out of your head “as in my first boyfriend tim?” you laugh, holding your hand to your face incredulously.

“but he moved away as well?” you half ask.

“yea he said he was visiting his grandparents, but guess the best part” hyunjin bites his lip

“what?” you chuckle.

“he got a nose job” hyunjin bites back a laugh when you gasp surprisedly “really?”

“one word” hyunjin says “botched…”

“aw no, poor tim” you frown, looking down at your hot drink as memories from back in the day come back to you.

“he always used to put his hand up my shirt when hugging” you frown, making hyunjin laugh.

“it was 9th grade y/n what did you expect?” you scoff at his rethorical question.

“I don’t know, some basic manners maybe?” you counter playfully…slowly letting the conversation die down as you both take sips from your cocoa.

“how come we never dated?” he asks softly after aminute of silence, looking up at you.

“we were friends?” you chuckle awkwardly.

“come on” hyunjin sits back in his booth “you must’ve known I had the biggest crush on you”

“you did?” you almost launch forwards in your seat, making hyunjin laugh.

“well, I guess you didn’t know then” he giggles, hiding his face in his hands embarrassedly.

“anyways, I would’ve paid good money to be able to slip my hand up your shirt” he jokes, cheeks reddening when you laugh.

“I honestly liked you a lot back then” you say “if you would’ve said something we might’ve actually gone out” you shrug gently.

“damn, way to rub that in my face” hyunjin grins.

You hold his eye contact for a few seconds before you feel your blood rushing to your cheeks again, quickly lifting up your mug to take a sip and partly cover your face.

When you put your mug back down, hyunjin grins widely, mumbling a “cute” before slowly bringing his hand to your chin and gently swiping his thumb over your top lip where a foam mustache had formed.

You gulp when he swiftly sucks the foam off his thumb, your eyes darting from his eyes to his lips.

When he notices, he leans over, slowly as if scared to overwhelm you.

That’s when minhos words pop up in the back of your head.

“be honest with him, and yourself for that matter”

But you aren’t together, and hyunjin is great and you want to kiss him but you know it would be wrong.

However, before you know it his lips are on yours and you’re not doing anything to stop him.

They are soft and inviting and you let him swipe his tongue over the seam of your lips, but then the little doorbell rings and you hear lias voice, followed by a male one before they abruptly stop, making you pull away abruptly.

Oh.

There they are, lia, chan, jisung and changbin; looking at you.

“y/n” lia grins widely, approaching your table “aren’t you gonna introduce us?” she squeals, hyunjin clears his throat and sits back down.

The three guys hesitantly follow lia when-

“woah- hyunjin?” chan speaks up.

“chan-hyung?” hyunjin gets up from his place to receive a hug from the older one as your eyes divert to changbin who is looking at the ground.

You aren’t together. Then why do you feel so guilty and why does he look so disappointed.

“he’s cute, girl” jisung grinningly interrupts your daydreaming, nodding towards chan and hyunjin who are still talking.

You force out a smile.

“how do you two know each other?” lia asks curiously.

“he went to my highschool, the last few years” chan grins.

“what a coincidence” you mumble, almost ironically.

“I went to highschool with y/n too, the first couple years though, then I moved away” hyunjin explains “oh, im sorry, I’m hyunjin by the way” he turns to jisung and changbin.

“I’m jisung, this is changbin” jisung smiles, pointing at his grumpy friend.

“I’m lia” lia grins “his girlfriend and her best friend” she points at chan before snuggling up to you, giggling.

Jesus, woman where do you get the energy? Is what you want to ask but you just flash another forced smile, hoping this moment will pass quickly.

“where were you guys?” you change the topic, hoping changbin would maybe look at you if you spoke up.

“oh, I caught them all huddled up in the studio” lia grins “they probably haven’t been outside in a week again” she giggles.

“true” jisung quips.

“hey lets all sit down” hyunjin suggests.

“I’ll get a coffee” changbin mumbles, walking back to the counter.

You usher lia to make way for you to get out of the booth, following him.

“bin” you stand next to him as he looks up at the menu but he ignores you.

“you could at least acknowledge my presence, your highness” you quip annoyedly.

“what do you want me to say, y/n?” he mutters.

“I didn’t know this would happen with him or I would’ve told you” you say, looking back at the other four talking and laughing in the booth.

“we’re not together y/n, you’ve made that very clear; if you wanna kiss lord farquaad go ahead, I’m not stopping you” he looks over to the booth as well.

“jesus christ” you huff “why are you so defensive then?”

“hi” changbin greets the barista who just came from the back “I’ll have an iced coffee to go, please” he orders.

“the world doesn’t revolve around you y/n, maybe I’m having a bad day” he answers when the barista makes his way to the coffee machines, you feel a lump from in your throat.

“yea, well thanks for making mine bad as well” you turn on your heels to join the others, hyunjin sees you coming back and scooches to make some space for you next to him.

You smile and thank him quietly when he also gives you your mug.

“everything alright?” he asks quietly, as to not disturb the others conversation.

“yea, just had to ask him some stuff” you smile at which he smiles back, turning back to the others.

After a minute changbin approaches the booth with his iced coffee “hey, I’ll run back to the studio I gotta finish that track”

“ugh, changbin I just dragged you out of there, stay for a second” lia protests and jisung nods along.

“nah, gotta get it done tonight” he shakes his head.

“alight see you later” chan nods.

“nice to meet you, man” hyunjin says, nodding at him as well.

“yea” changbin answers tight-lipped before walking out.

December

”I’m sorry, hyunjin” you frown “I’m just not ready for a relationship after what happened with my ex-“

“its alright y/n” his large hand encases yours “you don’t have to explain yourself to me”

You sigh in relief “I’m sorry I tried to rush things, it just, seemed to good to be true to find you here and everything” he says.

“but I’ll wait for you, if that’s what you want” he looks up at you.

“oh, jinnie you shouldn’t have to do that” you shake your head “I’m sure there are great girls out there who are emotionally ready to be with you”

“yea, but you’re the girl I want to be with” he says softly and your heart shatters into pieces because you’re not sure he’s the guy you want to be with.

You fight yourself through the crowd at 3rachas last performance of the year, at the same venue where you met them for the first time. Just like the time before, chan makes sure lia, hyunjin, minho and you are able to come backstage.

“I’m excited to see you perform, man” hyunjin grins at chan, patting his shoulder “your stuff was already dope back then…” they continue speaking as you enter their dressing room.

Jisung greets his boyfriend as you and lia sit down on the leather couch.

Changbin is standing in front of the mirror, fixing his hair before his eyes lock with yours through the mirror, but he just diverts them to chan who’s grabbing a beer for hyunjin and himself, you guess.

“did you have to invite him?” changbin semi-whispers to the older one, nodding at hyunjin, chan just frowns confusedly,making changbin shake his head and walk out.

You look at hyunjin who is talking to minho and jisung, and doesn’t seem to have heard changbin. So, you get up to follow him out but lia holds your wrist “y/n you cant keep running after him” she hisses.

“he cant keep treating me like im invisible, I just want to clear the air” you free your arm and walk out to see changbin almost at the end of the corridor, walking out of a heavy door which, you think leads outside.

After reaching the door you open it to find him outside, leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking down at his phone.

The cold air hits your skin and you shiver, only wearing a top and some jeans since its warm in the club.

Changbin notices you and looks up “what do you want, y/n?” he asks.

“that was real classy back there” you comment, holding your arms to your body to preserve some warmth. Changbin huffs, unfazed as he looks back at his phone “whatever, y/n”

“no, not whatever bin” you step closer to him “he asked me to date him” his head shoots up and you lock eyes, for a second they are soft in the way they look into yours but something changes and they turn mean when he speaks again.

“so? that’s a you proplem” he shrugs.

“its not a problem at all, he’s sweet and loving and cares about me but for some reason im standing here, hoping that you’ll give me a reason to not be with him” you feel your throat closing up with anger mixed with confusion when he starts chuckling.

“you’re not serious are you?” he squints and your heart drops, tears pooling at your lashline.

“of course not, I couldn’t expect someone as stubborn and- and comunicationally incompetent like you to understand anything about feelings” you turn on your heels when a teardrop rolls down your cheek.

A hand wraps itself around your wrist, making you turn back “I’ve wanted to be with you since that moment in the club where you kissed me infront of all these girls. It was always you who was stubborn y/n, you never wanted to spend anymore time with me other than fucking” he snaps at you, taking a breather to start another sentence but you cut him off.

“-then why didn’t you say anything?” you ask quietly and he looks down.

“because- fuck” he lets go of your wrist “I didn’t want to scare you away, you in my bed was better than no you at all. But then fucking prince charming appears out of no where and sweeps you off your feet-”

“but I don’t want prince charming I want you” you blurt out, tears now streaming down your face, making him take a step back as his eyes soften.

“then why didn’t you say anything?” a small smile tugs at his lips as he closes the distance between you, gently running his hands up your arms, feeling the goosebumps brought on by the cold.

You huff, looking down and watching one of your teardrops melting a tiny hole into the snow before looking back up “because I’m stubborn and comunicationally incompetent” you sniffle “and stupid apparently”

A grin spreads over changbins face as his hands cradle your cheeks, wiping your tears away with his thumbs “so, you wanna be stubborn and stupid together?” he whispers, locking eyes with you.

You press your lips together, trying to keep yourself from sobbing even more as you nod.

He chuckles softly ”you can stop crying now, baby” at which you nod beathing in shakily but smiling when he pushes some hair out of your face.

“can you kiss me now please” you sniffle whiningly, huffing in a laugh when he pulls a face.

“i dont know babe, you’re a little snotty right now-” he jokes.

“shut up” you hit him, chuckling when he pulls you even closer by your waist and gently connects his lips with yours.

A soft wind blows through your hair and you loop your arms around his neck even tighter, deepening the kiss at which he moans, holding your waist tighter to his body.

The door creaks open and “are you guys finally together?” minhos voice makes you break the kiss.

“yea” you grin when jisung comes out after his boyfriend.

“nice” he grins, nodding at you.

“yea yea nice, beautiful love whatever, hyung we’re up, lets go” jisung rambles, laughing and running back inside when changbin pretends to hit him, minho shaking his head and following him.

“you’ll watch me yea?” your boyfriend grins at you, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it.

“from the front row, baby”

a/n: omg im finally done wth this took me so long yall, i started writing this sin september (which is why the fic starts in september as well lol) sorry about the winterly feelings i’m pushing onto you in the end but last week it literally snowed where i live so i was like uh?!?!?!? okay lets write some snowy shit, global warming ftw i guess....anyways i hope u liked it pls leave some feedback and/or ur favourite part ig lol i would appreciate it alot <33 (not proofred yet oopsie)

---

taglist: @kpopscape @oopsie-whats-this @zhaqifa @synnocence @changlix-mp4 + some besties who always inspire me wether they know it or not😭 @bangtantaegi @hanflix @bruh-changbin @hyunyin @yyxgin @hyunsluvv @unstableskzstan @violethhj @missskzbiased @cartierbin @dom--minnie

#kpopscape #skz #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids #changbin #seo changbin #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #zephyr

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Order 23 Job

leverage 2.03

Nate: Nobody wants to see this guy just get a slap on the wrist, Ronald, I mean, but killing him? He's a thief, not a murder.

literally !!! this !!!

I’m not even going to go into current events but no matter what someone has done, ESPECIALLY if they haven’t had a trial yet they do NOT deserve to be killed or murdered or anyone (side eyes the US police system). I said what I said.

- - - - -

Ronald: He was smart, responsible, and Armenian, like us.

Nate: Yeah, well, they call these affinity crimes, people who prey on fellow members of ethnic groups

- - - - -

Hardison: Eddie's new address in Fort Walton Beach, Florida, is the original "Club Fed".

Eliot: He's got his own nine-hole golf course. Vegan menu.

Hardison: This dude can play Frisbee with the guys from Enron in the quadrangle.

Eliot: I hate those guys. 18 months in a country club, this guy.

Parker: Yeah, and then when he gets done, he gets to come home and collect his hidden cash

we love to see the ot3 angry about the same things while sitting close together

+ eliot is wearing a flannel in this one

- - - - -

parker doing a happy dance in the vents when she knocks the guy out

- - - - -

(Hardison unpacks computer monitors and sets up a workstation while a video feed of Parker making the bed plays on a laptop. Hardison plays audio sounds on the laptop)

Nate: Hey.

Hardison: Hey. I put speakers in Eddie's room and every 3 feet down the hallway. So if you want to hear footsteps coming toward you, you slide the cursor this way. (demonstrates) And walking away, this way. I made you a master audio file with all the stuff we recorded, plus the sound effects. You mix them any way you want. You're the dj

that’s actually really smart

- - - - -

Parker: All right, well, here's the stuff from the van plus almost everything from the list. (opens a bag) And by the way, nurses haven't worn skirts with white stockings since the '70s. Sorry.

(hardison and eliot share a look)

dumb idiot boys that think it’d be funny to see their future gf in an old nurse uniform

- - - - -

Hardison: If you don't give me that shirt--

Eliot: Listen to me, son, you need those fingers to type on your little keyboard, don't you?

Hardison: So you know, a bully is just a cowboy with low self-esteem.

Eliot: What was that, now?

Hardison: I said what?

Eliot: My insecure ass is gonna be wearing this shirt

- - - - -

Parker: You're not claustrophobic, are you, Mr. Maranjian? (pushes him down the hall, leaning down to whisper in his ear) Because you've got nothing to be afraid of.

I LOVE IT WHEN SHE FUCKS WITH PEOPLE

- - - - -

(Eliot stops to look at the boy, who looks up at him with tears in his eyes)

Hardison: So, say I mention "The Search for Spock", what do you do?

Eliot: I don't have a TV.

Hardison: Everybody has TVs. Dead people have TVs. Damn it.

(Hardison walks away, but Eliot remains, looking at the boy and his father)

- - - - -

Nate: See, y-you tell someone they have a bunch of symptoms and the information gets processed in the executive center of the brain, right? It's job is to question assumptions, start an argument. But if you suggest symptoms, you can bypass all that.

Parker: Like subliminal advertising?

Nate: It's actually neurolinguistic programming, you know, the gateway to the amygdala, which is the fear center of the brain. You asked what we're selling. That's-- that's what we're selling.

Parker: So we're selling...

Nate: Fear.

Parker: Oh. Fear.

Nate: Yeah.

Parker: Cool.

Nate: Yeah

- - - - -

Parker (looking at monitor): Wait, his nose. Is that...

Nate: real blood?

Eddie: I'm-- I'm bleeding! I'm bleeding!

Nate: Yes. Yes, it is.

Eddie: Hello?! Can anyone hear me?! Please!

Parker: Did you just give a guy a nosebleed with the power of your mind?

Nate: Amygdala mania. Hmm. Almond tonsils.

Parker: Is it just me, or has Nate gotten a little sadistic since he quit drinking?

Sophie: Is it just me, or does that make him even more attractive

- - - - -

Hardison: Eliot, can you talk? What's Charlie doing?

[Hallway]

Eliot: I haven't gotten there yet. (looks into room with Trent and his son)

Hardison: No wonder I couldn't hear you on my coms. Eliot, stop checking out the nurses and get your ass down to Charlie!

Eliot: I'm on my way, all right? Shut up.

(Eliot takes out his earbud and walks into the exam room to Trent)

Eliot: Excuse me, sir. Can I talk to you for a second, please

eliot cares SO MUCH

- - - - -

(Eliot grabs Trent’s arm and bends him over the railing)

Eliot: That bruise on his cheek's a week old. The one on his neck is three days. He get that falling, too?

Trent: You don't believe me? Ask him.

Eliot: Why, huh? So I can hear how well his daddy taught him to lie?

Trent: If you're gonna arrest me, go ahead. I'll be out in five minutes.

Eliot: I ain't gonna arrest you.

(Eliot nearly throws Trent over the railing letting him dangle for a moment before throwing him back against the wall. He opens Trent’s wallet and looks at his license)

Eliot: Randall Trent, 73 Austin Street. (puts wallet in his pocket) I got my eye on you now.

Trent: How many guys don't even see their kids? I bet this place is full of deadbeat dads. But a man who provides for his family, who shows his son a firm hand, he's the bad guy? Go back to your speed traps.

(Trent leaves the stairwell. Eliot looks pissed)

eliot is SO ANGRY I love my kind-hearted man

also high key I really thinks this gives an insight as to what his childhood was like

like,,, he saw the signs RIGHT AWAY. he was primed to notice them. he saw right through any act that man would have pulled because he saw what was truly going on, and things like that hit harder and closer when they’ve happened to you or someone in your life

- - - - -

Sophie: You know, I once had to play six parts in "Nicholas Nickleby" and Mrs. Squeers and Phib had a bloody song together.

- - - - -

on today’s edition of non-weapons-that-eliot-uses-as-weapons, we have eliot using the morgue body cabinet doors and a gross morgue body part (?) bowl

- - - - -

(Eliot puts Charlie on top of one of the bodies in the drawers and closes him inside before putting his earbud back in)

Hardison: You think you can just ignore me, like I don't have any feelings, like I never sat there, never listened to you talk all night about tryin--

Eliot: Hardison, have you been talking the whole time?

Hardison: I wouldn't have had to if you didn't turn off your daggum com

hardison worries about eliot and gets angry when he takes his coms out because he cares

- - - - -

Hardison: Oh, man. Come on.

(Hardison moves to tug Eliot before he heads off. Eliot looks from the boy to the police coming into the hospital before entering the boy’s room and pulling the curtain)

Eliot: Hey. How's the arm, my man?

Randy: It's okay.

Eliot: Yeah? My name's Eliot. What's your name?

(police officers continue to move through the hallways)

Randy: Randy.

Eliot: Randy. Oh, I like that name. (sits on bed) I got an uncle named Randy. There sure are a lot of cops around here, huh? You know, if you wanted, you could go up to one and tell them what happened to your arm. Hey, Randy. You don't have to be afraid anymore.

Randy: Dad knows these cops, you know? They come to my house. They'll drink beer. I mean… I can't

this is so, so sad but also hardison’s casual touching and intimacy with eliot gives me life

- - - - -

this is the one episode parker is tased and not the one doing the tasing

- - - - -

okay but wHO ACTUALLY, IN REAL LIFE, LEAVES THEIR KEYS IN THEIR UNLOCKED CAR

- - - - -

PARKER USED ELIOTS PUNCHING TACTICS (from the last episode) TO KNOCK THEIR MARK OUT

- - - - -

(Eddie uses the stunner to knock Parker out. As soon as he moves away, she gets up, lifting her shirt to show a vest)

hmmm I wonder what type of vest she used to block the electric shock ???

- - - - -

(team walks out of the courthouse and heads down the stairs)

Nate: So, here's everything you need to know about criminal law. Every crime has two elements, Actus reus, the act itself, and mens rea, Literally "The Guilty Mind."

Hardison: Wait. Now you're a doctor and a lawyer?

Nate: Yes. Now, for escape, the prisoner has to both break out of custody and show the intent to escape.

Sophie: Wait, so if, let's say, a prisoner was taken hostage during a jailbreak then he wouldn't be guilty of escape.

Nate: That's a perfect example.

Hardison: Kiss ass.

Nate: Which brings us back to our friend Eddie and how the brain reacts to fear. In the heat of the moment Eddie didn't ask himself a simple question, who would doubt his guilty mind?

- - - - -

Bob: Damn right it is. You and your partner, you're all right. I don't know how to thank you, though.

(Eliot looks at Bob for a long moment, then pulls Trent’s license from his pocket and hands it to Bob)

Eliot: Do one thing for me.

Bob: You got it.

[Exterior Apartment]

(Bob knocks on the door and Randy opens it)

Bob: Randy? I'm Deputy United States Marshal Robert Corville. I'm from Boston. I think you and I need to talk.

Trent: Who are you talking to out there? (pulls door open wider and sees Bob)

Bob: Come on.

(Randy looks at Trent then follows Bob out of the apartment)

Bob: It's all right, son. Come on. You're gonna be okay, Randy.

(Bob gives Trent one last look before moving away. From down the street, Eliot watches as Bob and Randy get into a car and drive away)

eliot watching over to make sure the kid was okay in the end? my HEART

#leverage #leverage 2.03 #leverage 2x03 #the order 23 job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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jimmymcgools · 4 years ago

Note

maybe a bit risque for the writing ask meme, so feel free to ignore, but: the first love scene (or part of it) between jimmy and kim during their trip out of town?

hell yes, i’ll do this scene!! for sure! thank you ❤️❤️❤️

fic commentary meme and my answers

this is just a reminder before we go on that jimmy’s still wearing his damn bugs bunny t-shirt

Inside their room, Jimmy stares out through the slats of the blinds at the glowing highway sign, listening to Kim have a stilted conversation with her roommate over the phone.

photo edited by @unremarkable-house ♥️♥️♥️

He tips his head to the side. “Hmm. I could maybe get behind a dead space chimp.” ah, the dead space chimp. they were originally gonna visit the world’s largest pistachio but then i discovered it wasn’t there in 1992, so we went with the dead space chimp. the pistachio is so tragic though, you should definitely google it. send me reacts if you do. it’s a bummer.

He exhales and gives a winning smile, but his next question comes out a little breathier and a little more strangled than he would like: “Wanna make out again, then?” i always liked the idea of jimmy just out and asking this. famously not the greatest at communicating, these two, but i really wanted there to be more of a “hey, so do you want to do that again?” “hm, yeah, i do actually” vibe at the top of this scene rather than just them getting completely swept up in emotions

and it’s like a jolt rushing through him, like everything he’s been holding back for the past week comes smashing up through a frozen surface and he can breathe again. kind of blending two different images i’ve used before. way back in chapter 2 when jimmy does his little coffee spill scam: “it feels like bursting up through the water’s surface and breathing again”. and then kim right before their first kiss: “an enormous grin shatters over her face, like an ice sheet cracking”.

he shifts his weight back to his knees and reaches for her hair again, this time gathering it up gently and tucking it up on the pillow as best he can, running the soft threads through his fingers. jimmy’s boner for kim’s hair really just grows and grows huh

“Why are we doing this?” he gasps, and then he shakes his head. “I mean—why aren’t we doing this?” oh man the like, foggy-brained gibberish of this. “why are we doing this--no wait why aren’t we doing this--ok wait i know we’re literally making out right now but why aren’t we doing it for real kim?”

“To start with?” she asks softly, and she gives him a small smile. “Because you woke up and looked terrified.” “I what?” Jimmy asks. i was always curious how people took this. we’re in jimmy’s pov for that wake-up scene, and he doesn’t exactly think he’s terrified of a relationship with kim in that moment, but he does have a bunch of big messy thoughts that i hoped could seem like hesitation or fear in how they appeared on his face, and how kim interpreted them.

“No,” she says, eventually. Her eyes meet his. Words coming slowly, she says, “Jimmy, you’re not…” —and he thinks, what? what? pulse humming in his ears— —and, voice so careful, she says, “… part of the plan.” Jimmy lets out his breath in a rush of air. “Yeah,” he says lightly. He stares into her eyes. Hers are gentle, and he sighs again. oh man another thing i was curious about the response to. on the surface these words from kim are so horrible. they’re still not exactly nice but i really wanted to give them a specific kind of softness/honesty that makes them land okay. there’s maybe shades of howard’s “we want the case. we do not want... the case is all we want” that i really wanted to avoid. they are, though, probably the sort of words that jimmy filters away in the little bank he stores things like “the kind of lawyer guilty people hire” and “roll around in the dirt with me” and the lyrics to a certain ABBA song.

He tightens his fingers. “Wanna tell me about the plan, then?” but in the moment i wanted him to just be forgiving, and curious (and maybe already bracing to game the plan like he ends up doing, but hey)

“Make something of myself,” she says. kim’s ambition is so interesting to me!! her “plan” here as she tells it to jimmy is so vague, but i always feel like at the core there’s two elements: self-preservation/escape, and then ambition. “what did you want?” “more.” the ambition part i think about a lot, and i want to do more with it, tbh. because i think in some ways it’s the more interesting part. there’s a bit of a leap from just escaping a difficult situation to relentlessly gunning to get ahead in a field that gives you the power to determine right from wrong. kimberly wexler you fascinate me.

“We’re not in Albuquerque now,” he says. “No,” Kim says, smile edging her expression. “No, I guess not.” “Seems like the plan’s already gone off the rails,” Jimmy says, and he shrugs. “Hm,” Kim says, mouth twitching. forgive me for the chandler-and-monica-in-london of this. i do think kim and jimmy would’ve kept going in this moment without the dumb excuse, but i liked the idea that they both enjoyed having the dumb excuse. and then it ends up being more significant once they do get back to abq and kim actually does walk the relationship back.

She opens it and rifles through, then lets out a snort of laughter. “I forgot about this haircut,” she says, and she turns his wallet to face him. disgusted to discover i didn’t describe the velcro cronch of jimmy’s wallet here. how long do licences last in the US anyway? i hope he had to show people that slippin’ jimmy mullet for a long time. that important question aside, i really wanted to keep that easy humour and laughter they've had since the beginning going through this scene. and any time i can shift a fun/gently-ribbing joke into a slightly more emotional beat i’m happy, and i liked that shift here. “you guys didn’t know what hit you” “no, we did not.”

She leans back a little and runs a finger through the vee of his hips then holds it up to him. It’s covered in a fine layer of white dust. i got so attached to this dumb idea even though it’s the shittiest thing, sorry you two, fanfic rules, sorry, you’re covered in gypsum i guess, good luck bet it feels great 👀it’s just really hard to, you know. shake off white sands after you’ve been there once, y’know. 👀#metaphors

“Hmm, that wasn’t the first time,” Kim says, moving their joined hands around so that she’s resting her weight down on them. “I seem to remember you coming back to the mailroom one day soaked with coffee…” kim-wexler-is-horny-for-a-scam... but also, hey, a chance to talk more about this! kim remembers jimmy (who from the outside might’ve still seemed like he was one platinum platter away from joining howard on the third floor) helping a lowly assistant when he didn’t need to. and not only did he help clara in that scene, he did it in an outside-the-box way that put all the blame on himself and made clara look good in front of everyone upstairs.

there’s a scene break in that chapter from when jimmy starts explaining the plan, to when jimmy’s about to put it into action, and i always think that, after his explanation and after he and clara leave, kim stands there thinking that there’s no fucking way this mcgill brother is going to go upstairs and put on this whole performance just because one printer fucked up and vernon is a picky asshole.

and then he comes back down drenched in coffee. kim: 🙂

“Covered in coffee, huh?” he says, a few moments later. “I can arrange that again.” jimmy: kim wants a coffee-soaked striptease i’ll GIVE her a coffee-soaked striptease! kim: um

so he stops talking and listens—and it’s his name, over and over, hummed to his lips. jimmy and names is so... aahh. when i wrote this i was thinking about that moment in chapter one when he stands in front of the elevators and tries out different ways of introducing himself. “yeah, just jimmy. like, you know... cher.” just jimmy. it kills me to think about how, certainly by bcs s5 times, kim is the only one he’s just-jimmy to. 💔

letting Kim swallow it until there’s no sound left between them at all, no sound or words or names, just—light. echoes of them driving up into white sands, and it’s quiet, like after a snowfall, when jimmy wonders if the white itself that makes things noiseless.

thank you so much for requesting this scene!!! ♥️

#commentary ask meme #asks #better call saul #a controlled burn #♥️

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bottomlwjrights · 4 years ago

Text

MO DAO ZU SHI REREAD:Thoughts™️....and Stuff

Chapter 37

Ljy volunteers to use his blood to summon more mannequins, after which a bunch of juniors start to volunteer theirs

Wwx is SO fucking cool....

Xy giving wwx advice while acting like xxc makes me sick, thanks

I hate how good he is at acting like xxc, he has wwx completely convinced

“Jin Ling laughed at him without holding back at all. Even Lan SiZhui couldn’t stop himself from bursting with a “pfft”. Speechless, Wei WuXian turned to look at them, and Lan SiZhui put on a straight face at once.” Jsnck i love lsz

God i feel so bad about sl and xxc, A-Qing too

“As the cultivator heard the sound, despite how his figure reeled and his hands trembled, he still attacked at Wei WuXian!He couldn’t be controlled. This corpse had a master!” This is still so chilling

...wwx rewarded the nether brawlers by giving them his blood

“On the cultivator’s left chest, near his heart, there was a similar tearing, a similar thin, narrow wound. It seemed as if he died with a stab through the heart.” I fucking hate xue yang ☺️

“Wei WuXian pinched his cheeks and forced him to open his mouth. Inside, his tongue had also been pulled out from the root.” Hate him so much ☺️☺️☺️

Was lsz the only one to raise his hand from the lan clan? Is he the only one of the juniors that knew inquiry? Im asking for... yanno... reasons

“Xiao XingChen’s most intimate friend of cultivation, Song Lan?!” Yes that one, the one he gouged out both of his eyes for

“‘SiZhui, you’re the most sensible one here. Guide them a bit, won’t you? Can you do that?’ Lan SiZhui nodded. Wei WuXian added, ‘Don’t be scared.’ Lan SiZhui, ‘I am not.’ ‘Really?’ ‘Really.’ Lan SiZhui smiled, ‘Senior, you are so much like HanGuang-Jun.’” this exchange ko’d me, like knocked me clean tf out. Wwx reassuring him gently, lsz smiling and telling him hes not scared, lsz saying wwx is a lot like lwj

“‘Us? How are we alike?’ They were obviously like fire and ice. However, Lan SiZhui only grinned in reply, and led the rest of the group out.” I am crying

“It is as though if either one of the two seniors are present, I will not need to be scared or worry about anything.” 😭😭😭😭😭

Hmmmm when did xy find out it was wwx????

Oh it was the whistling that made him suspicious, and then how powerful his Summoning of Painted Eyes was, gotcha

“When they were still alive, the person probably suffered from a lot of torture. It should’ve been rather painful. They probably committed suicide, so they probably don’t want to come back to this world. If a soul itself doesn’t have any desire to live, then it’ll most likely be impossible to save.” Yanno i dont think its ever explicitly talked about how wwx died, and im not trying to be angsty here, but his soul literally couldn’t be summoned, by anybody....

I hate xue yang!!!!!

Fuck you, dont give xy cute canines, he doesnt deserve them. Me and wwx however....

“I have a very famous friend. His acting is what I’d call excellent. I still have a long way to go.” Xy is literally talking about jgy right here

Xy made the nails that were controlling wn, which meant he put them in wn’s head, which means id like to resurrect xy just to kill him again

“Wei WuXian really couldn’t understand why strangers always had an inexplicable sense of confidence in place of him.”

WEN NING!!!!

AHHHHH FUCK HIM UP BABY

“Wen Ning is not a thing.” From wwx himself, people

Maybe if you wanted xxc’s soul, you shouldnt have, idk, forced him to kill innocent people and his best friend against his knowledge and drove him to suicide, just a thought, Xue Yang

Lwj is strong

“Before he finished his sentence, a white-robed figure descended from the sky. Bichen’s icy blue glare swept at him.” Lwj desending from the sky looking like an angel

(chapter 38 & chapter 39 below the cut)

Chapter 38

“Surrounded by an ambience of frost and ice, Lan WangJi stood in front of Wei WuXian.”

“The glare of the sword that he pulled from his sleeve was grim and dark. As it was wielded, it almost seemed to emit a black aura, creating a stark contrast with Shuanghua’s silver radiance.” 😩 Jiangzai 😩

Gotta give it too him, xy is a talented swordsman

So does wn feel pain or does he not feel pain, pick one

“‘Good. If anyone doesn’t listen to me, I’ll feed him congee again.’ The few boys who had encountered the taste pretended as if they were vomiting.” This interaction....

Lan WangJi, you’re so cool 😩

Jl’s admiration for his senior cultivators is just..... so cute

“‘Hmm. He’s good. Of course. He’s really good. He’s the best.’ As he talked, he couldn’t help but break into a smile.” Stoooooop

God wwx just shouting to lwj that hes gonna leave, and its up to him now, and lwj just agreeing, wwx laughing....like the trust, the belief in the other’s abilities, the ease with which they communicate even in tense situations

“Why did you two not say ‘I’m worried about you. I’m staying!’, ‘Go!’, ‘No! I’m not going! If I’m going, you’re going with me!’? Is it not a must?” Ljy really knows what’s going on between them, why else would he say something like this???

“It’s a waste of time. I believe that someone as reliable as HanGuang-Jun will definitely be able to deal with it.” Aknfnc like yeah lwj is known to be strong, but wwx completely trusts in his abilities, like he’s not overly worried or protective like a lot of partners tend to be, he just trusts him

“With both of his feet together, he tried to jump outside. However, since the threshold was too high, he failed every attempt.” This is hilarious, and the juniors thought so too

Wwx respects non-cultivators

A-Qing grabs xxc’s face and cries when his coffin is opened 😢

Interesting that wwx invented Empathy, a way for you to...well empathize with spirits in a way that you couldn’t before, and people still think it’s an evil method

“Wei WuXian stared at the bell for a few moments. Sensing that he looked a bit off, Jin Ling asked, ‘What?’ Wei WuXian replied, ‘Nothing.’” Wow.....that hurted

Hmmmm hate xue yang

“Since they felt the same things, it was as though the squeeze landed on Wei WuXian’s body. Instantaneously, Wei WuXian felt as if a blanket of goosebumps climbed over his heart. He wanted no less than to slam the man into the ground.” And if he could’ve, i bet he would’ve

Oh, Xiao XingChen....

Chapter 39

He’s so kind...

Actually A-Qing was 100% in the right, she should have kept that mans money

Have i mentioned how gross it is that a grown man groped A-Qing, who wwx describes as looking no older than 15 years old, because its gross

It makes me so fucking angry the things xy did, and the reason he was so good at imitating xxc

“Although she didn’t know whether he was dead or alive, most likely thinking that it’d be a drag either way, she obviously didn’t want Xiao XingChen to find the person.” A-Qing...

“Of course, a dead person was less of a hassle than a living one, so A-Qing couldn’t wait for the person to die.” Alfnfjfkb A-Qing wtf....

She was right though, i wish he would’ve just died too but here we are

It shouldve been A-Qing getting that piggy back ride

Xxc deserved so much better.....

Xxc is so sweet, it makes what happened to him even worse

Xy having a casual conversation with xxc and making him laugh is actually making me sick

A-Qing is smart to be wary of xy, to eavesdrop and follow them

I hate Xue Yang!!!!! So much!!!! He’s pure evil!!! Hes not evil in a fun way, hes for real evil, causes-suffering-for-entertainment type evil!!!

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mine #Phoenix rereads MDZS #wangxian #lwj #wwx #wn #lsz #ljy #a-qing #xxc #xy #god i hate him!!!!#i dont even wanna give that mf a tag

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ollieofthebeholder · 5 years ago

Text

If I Knew From the Start

Also on AO3.

It's been a couple weeks since Armageddoff, and things are almost back to normal. Almost.

Certainly Crowley is spending more time at the bookstore than he used to, and Aziraphale's been over to the flat more often than he had before, i.e. ever. They're a bit more comfortable, a bit freer to communicate, now that they don't have the specter of their respective departments hanging over their heads. Some nights Crowley doesn't go back to his place at all. It's a new normal, but a normal that's barely to the side of the normal they had before.

Crowley is still pining, by the way. He thought for a brief moment, during what they thought was the end of the world...but it turns out that was probably just him projecting and it's back to what it was before. Except now it's a bit worse, because now he's got to face up to the fact that this really is one-sided, that it's not just fear of what Heaven will do that's keeping Aziraphale from saying that he feels the same way. Aziraphale really doesn't feel that way and it's not fair, but honestly, the way the last six thousand years or so have gone Crowley can't be surprised. The universe is stacked against him and it doesn't matter what cards he's holding, the universe has all trumps.

Still, he's a glutton for punishment. Or maybe he's just willing to take whatever he can get. He'd rather have Aziraphale in his life as nothing more than a friend than not have him at all, so here he is in the bookstore, sprawled across a chair and watching the rain lash at the windows.

Crowley hates storms. At least rainstorms. He's never said anything to Aziraphale, but they always remind him of the storm, the one that led to the Great Flood, and that's something that still haunts him. He shifts restlessly in his seat, fidgets with the stem of his wine glass, debates nudging Aziraphale with his toes to get some kind of reaction out of the angel, and finally gets up to go poke through something he shouldn't touch.

Aziraphale looks at him briefly over the tops of his glasses as he ambles over to a table in the back, well away from the windows, although that's absolutely not why he's heading that way. “What are you up to, dear?”

Crowley gestures vaguely at the old-fashioned Victrola and the box next to it, both pristine and virtually untouched. “I'd like to listen to something other than Queen for a change.”

“I thought you liked Queen.”

“I do, but—you wouldn't want to only read one book all the time, would you?” Crowley points to the book in Aziraphale's hand. “Imagine if any book you left in your office for more than two weeks turned into—into—into something by that Christie woman.”

Aziraphale purses his lips thoughtfully. “I do like her works,” he says slowly. “But a constant diet of them—” He shakes his head and gestures vaguely at the box. “Please yourself.”

Crowley smirks. Usually, getting permission to do something he's planning to do out of mischief takes some of the fun out of it, but somehow, he likes knowing that Aziraphale isn't possessive about his things, or at least doesn't mind him touching them. He begins flicking through the neatly-stacked cardboard sleeves.

It's more or less what Crowley would have expected. Bach, Handel, Mozart, a little Debussy, something with a red cover that shows a silhouette of what looks like two people dancing on the beach that Crowley skips over hurriedly because he can only take so much torture in a single day, three or four Christmas albums, and—wait, this is odd.

He stops at an album that looks very different than the others. It's black, mostly, with what looks like a checkerboard falling to pieces—no, he realizes, glancing at the album title, not a checkerboard. A chessboard. Same thing, technically, but it's got a different feel to it.

“What's this, then?” he asks, pulling it out.

There's a pause just long enough to be noticeable. Crowley looks over his shoulder to see Aziraphale staring at the album. He can't read the look on his face, and that's a bit disconcerting, because usually his angel wears his heart on his sleeve.

“A rock opera,” he says at last.

Crowley remembers now. He saw the posters hanging up in the West End, actually considered asking Aziraphale if he wanted to go see it (It's opera, which you like, and it's rock, which I like, which means there's a fifty-fifty chance of us both liking it. Or both hating it. Want to take bets? Loser buys dinner), but the week it opened Aziraphale was awfully quiet and distant and he let the idea go. He never ended up seeing it. Going to the movies by himself is fine, especially since Aziraphale's never quite got the hang of them, but the theater? He can't do that alone.

“Just bought it because it says opera, eh?” Crowley turns the album over to squint at the track list.

Aziraphale clears his throat. “No...well, I went to see it. On opening night, actually. I thought...well, I do like opera, and you're a fan of—of rock music, so I thought I would see if it might be something we could both enjoy.”

Crowley stills. The fact that they'd both had the same thought almost makes him hope...but no, he tells himself firmly, he won't go down that road again. Not today. His heart can't take it. “Reckon it wasn't, then, since you never mentioned it to me.”

“No,” Aziraphale says, almost as if to himself. Crowley's about to say something else when Aziraphale continues, “I'm sure you'd have loved it, dear, but I—I didn't think I could watch it with you and not...I wasn't ready for a second viewing, and then it wasn't playing anymore and...” He waves his hands vaguely, conveying everything and nothing in that maddening way of his.

Crowley hesitates for a moment, then decides, to hell with it. (Possibly, although hopefully not, literally.) Aziraphale obviously enjoyed seeing it enough to buy the soundtrack. And if he thinks Crowley will like it, he's probably not wrong; he hasn't been wrong often in their acquaintance. He slips the first disc from its sleeve and pops it into the Victrola.

“What's it about, anyway?” he asks idly as the overture begins and he settles onto a chair—one closer to the music (and further from the window) than the one he was in before.

Again, there's that short pause, and Crowley looks up to see that indescribable look on Aziraphale's face.

“Chess,” he says shortly.

Which...it is. It's in English (obviously) and since it's an opera, the whole story is in the singing, they don't have to piece together bits left out in dialogue like they would with the soundtrack to a musical, so Crowley can follow the plot well enough. A chess prodigy from America, facing off against a champion from the USSR during the Cold War. It's upbeat and catchy, at least at first.

He finds himself identifying more than he'd like with the Russian character. He seems to be trapped in a situation he'd rather not be part of, like he enjoys playing chess but wishes he didn't have to do it for his government. Crowley can empathize with that.

“How long was this running, anyway?” he asks idly as they hit the end of the first side and he gets up to flip it over.

“Three years, I believe,” Aziraphale replies. He doesn't look up from his book. Must be pretty good, for him to be that intent on it. “It had a run on Broadway as well, but I hear they changed it substantially for that.”

“This is the original, though.”

“Well, it's the concept album. The actual musical had the songs in a different order. But yes, it's the original cast.”

Crowley settles back down for the rest of the first half—he's pretty sure Act One is on this disc and Act Two is on the other, that's how these things usually go—but then the woman who's been trying to ride herd on the American begins her solo and the lyrics grab Crowley's attention.

Maybe I'm on nobody's side...

He sits up straighter and listens intently. She might be singing about herself, her situation, but Crowley hears himself arguing with Aziraphale, trying to convince him to run away, to avoid the entire Apocalypse situation. To acknowledge that they don't have to decide between Heaven and Hell, that both sides are horrifying and it's the two of them that matter. Or maybe not. Maybe it's more that the woman is trying to convince herself to choose.

Like Aziraphale might have done after their argument.

He forces himself to sound casual as the music shifts to another song, mostly instrumental. “Whose idea was that anyway?”

“Hmm?” Aziraphale looks up from his book. He schools his emotions as he does so, but not quickly enough, and Crowley catches the glimpse of pain. He wants to ask about it, but backs down, a coward as usual. At least when it comes to this.

“The USSR,” he says instead. “Communism. All that nonsense. Was it m—you think it was Hell who came up with the idea, or did humanity do that on its own?”

Aziraphale doesn't answer for a moment, but that look of pain comes back and stays this time, and Crowley wonders if he actually changed the subject all that well. “It—actually, I think Michael got a commendation for that. At first. I mean, it sounds wonderful, doesn't it? Everyone equal, everyone cared for, no one better than anyone else? It's exactly the sort of thing She wanted. Until, of course, they denounced all religion and...well.” He sighs heavily. “Humans have always got to take everything just that bit too far, haven't they.” It's not really a question.

“Yeah,” Crowley says softly. He wants to smooth out the frown wrinkling Aziraphale's forehead, to kiss away the pain in his eyes, to hold and comfort him. But he also knows Aziraphale will fuss at him about it, so he doesn't.

The next song is a duet between the Russian and the woman—Florence, if the album is to be believed—and Crowley finds himself falling into it. He doesn't say anything else, too wrapped up in the music as Florence fights with the American and quits. There's a funny interlude as people who apparently work at an embassy of some kind fuss over the Russian's paperwork, and then a surprisingly heartfelt song where the Russian insists he's not leaving his country behind because my land's only borders lie around my heart, and then the needle clicks as the disc ends.

Partly out of morbid curiosity and partly because he can't just leave it there, Crowley gets up and lifts the record off the Victrola, then pulls out the second disc. To his surprise, it shows more signs of wear than the other. It's still in nearly pristine condition, of course—Aziraphale's always been careful with his things, even more so than Crowley who mostly keeps things together by force of will—but still, there are a few scratches, the normal sort of thing you find on vinyl records that have been listened to more often than not.

“You're supposed to listen to the whole musical, angel, not just one act,” Crowley chides as he checks the sides and puts the correct one face up.

Aziraphale mumbles something, but he doesn't look up from his book. Crowley decides not to ask and instead simply starts the record.

The first song is...nothing like the sort of thing Aziraphale usually listens to. It's almost more hip-hop than rock, and Crowley's not sure he likes it, although he does note that the last line of the chorus alternates between I can feel an angel sliding up to me and I can feel the devil walking next to me. Interesting.

The next song is slower, with more piano, sounding almost like something Bette Midler might've sung. Crowley stills as the lyrics begin, and he almost stops breathing altogether when he hears something soft and barely audible underneath the music.

Aziraphale. Aziraphale is singing along to Florence's solo.

Heaven help my heart...

Desperately, Crowley tries to focus on the song. It sounds like Florence and the Russian are having an affair, and Florence is already fearing that he won't love her once she no longer has any mysteries for him to solve. It's almost like pre-heartbreak. And Aziraphale seems to identify with it.

He swallows hard when it ends, but doesn't dare look over at Aziraphale. He guesses the angel has listened to this album more than a few times, and has most of the songs memorized. Still, Crowley can't help but notice that he's not singing along to the argument Florence has with the Russian afterwards. Maybe it's just too hard for him to follow.

Then the next song starts up, and oh, hell, Crowley knows this one. He knows it. It made the Top Ten lists on the radio in the mid-eighties. The first time he heard it, he almost wrecked the Bentley, and he cried for almost twelve minutes straight after it finished and never admitted it to anyone. For about the next two weeks, it was the only song that ever played on any radio station he tried to listen to, thus reaffirming Crowley's long-held theory that the universe is out to get him specifically.

He sits up, holding his breath so he won't say anything stupid, as the words start. Then his brain catches up to the fact that it's not just the record playing and he turns his head sharply. Aziraphale isn't reading his book anymore. He's on his feet, head bowed as he fixes himself another cup of cocoa, and he's singing along softly to the music.

Crowley has to look away.

The music is horribly unfair. It's a duet, between two women, and now that he's been listening to the whole soundtrack he can identify the singer of the first verse as Florence, and he can also guess that she's talking about the Russian. Crowley finds himself whispering along with the second part when the song hits the first chorus and the actual duet starts.

And then the second verse starts, and Crowley can't help himself. He's always identified with that part, and he memorized it even though he didn't mean to, so he sings along, huddled in his chair with his knees pressed to his chest, eyes closed as he thinks back, or more like overthinks, on the last six thousand years. On Eden and Mesopotamia and Golgotha, on Rome and Turkey and Paris. On all those years of knowing, or at least suspecting, that he was the only one feeling this way. The line towards the end of the verse, where the woman says she'd have learned about the man before I fell, has always been darkly ironic to him.

Looking back, sure, he could have played it differently. But would he have?

He loses track of the rest of the world, wrapped up as he is in the song and the way it makes him feel. It is madness, utter madness, that he can't be mine...

He suddenly becomes aware of the music getting closer, and he looks up and makes eye contact with Aziraphale, who's right there all of a sudden, and both of them forget to sing the last line.

I know him so well...

Aziraphale's eyes are wide and soft with all kinds of emotion Crowley can't quite figure out, and they're extremely wet. He's staring at Crowley like he's seeing him for the first time, his hand hovering inches from Crowley's arm. Crowley desperately wants to close that gap, but he can't bring himself to do it, especially as he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale says, his voice small and filled with pain, and Crowley responds to that pain because nothing in him says to do anything else. He untangles his arms from around his knees and reaches up to take Aziraphale's hand like he wanted to do before, and they clutch each other's hands in a way they haven't since the moment they realized they were about to face one of the few beings in the universe with the ability to destroy them both and everything they hold dear. The moment Crowley knew, with utter certainty, that Aziraphale is at the top of that list and let himself hope he was at the top of Aziraphale's.

“Angel,” he whispers, and he's not sure what he's trying to say with it, but he knows it doesn't come out right and he's not sure how to fix it.

Aziraphale licks his lips and shakes his head slowly, not really in denial of what Crowley's saying or trying to say, he thinks, just clearing it a little. “I...that's why I didn't ask you to go,” he says softly. “I couldn't...I didn't think I could sit next to you during that song and not...” He bites his lip and doesn't finish.

“You remember—” Crowley begins, and then he stops, because he's pretty sure Aziraphale doesn't remember. Why would he, after all? But Aziraphale is looking at him again, and Crowley decides to just go with it. He plunges ahead. “Do you remember—there was a while where I refused to listen to the radio, where I'd turn it off as soon as we got in the Bentley?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale replies, surprising Crowley. “You got very...grumpy when I asked about it. I thought I'd done something wrong, but...well, that wasn't long after I saw the play, and I'm afraid I wasn't entirely myself.”

Crowley tightens his grip on Aziraphale's hand before he can stop himself, then eases back so he doesn't hurt him. “No, you didn't. It's just—that song was on the radio constantly, every bloody time I turned the thing on, and I couldn't—I had a hard enough time dealing with it on my own and I definitely couldn't have handled it if you'd been sitting there.” He pauses. “Didn't realize it was from a musical, though.”

Aziraphale nods slowly. There's a vacant look in his eyes. “It's...I know in the context of the show, they're both singing about Anatoly. The Russian. Florence is his mistress and Svetlana is his wife. But I—the first time I heard it, all I could think about was—” He breaks off and looks away, and his hand slides out of Crowley's.

Crowley lets him go, although he doesn't want to. Something about this moment feels important, like he's just missing something. But he's following Aziraphale's lead, like he always has, letting him set the pace of things. Any time he tries to rush things, he ends up inevitably disappointed.

He ends up disappointed when he doesn't rush things, too, but at least then it's not his fault.

The music is still playing, and it sounds like there's an argument going on. Crowley forces himself to tune back into it, partly to distract himself from saying something stupid to Aziraphale and partly because now he needs to know how this thing ends, and it sounds like someone's trying to make a deal of some kind. In a voice that suddenly feels rusty, he asks, “What are they trying to do now?”

“They want Anatoly to throw the chess match,” Aziraphale says quietly. “He's defected—he's playing for the United States now—and they're trying to convince him to lose on purpose.”

“Why would he agree to that?” Crowley demands.

Aziraphale pauses. Crowley looks back at him and suddenly realizes that he hasn't gone anywhere—he's still crouching in front of Crowley's chair, one hand resting lightly on the arm, looking down at the floor.

“They're baiting him,” he says at last. “Florence's father was...he was captured by the Russians when she was a child. They tell him—and her, come to think of it—that if Anatoly loses the match and goes back to Russia, they'll set her father free. They think he might lose for her sake.”

Crowley swallows hard. “He will, of course.”

But Aziraphale shakes his head, firmly. “Never. Florence won't let him, for one thing. The game is more important to either of them than either of their...'sides'. And quite apart from that, he doesn't trust the Russians enough to accept a deal with them.” He looks up at Crowley with a sad smile. “After all, a deal with the devil only benefits the devil.”

Crowley knows that only too well. He wants to reach for Aziraphale's hand again, especially as the American starts singing about his terrible childhood. Instead, he swallows and tries for nonchalant. “So he stands up to the Russians, wins the match, gets the girl...”

“He wins, certainly,” Aziraphale agrees. His eyes slide away from Crowley's.

Suddenly, Crowley remembers a cartoon rabbit dramatically draped in the arms of a metal-clad hunter, raising his head to look briefly at the screen. What did you expect in an opera, a happy ending?

They sit silently through the next bit. It's obviously the final chess game, and there's a lot of arguing going on and some names being mentioned, and then the light, tinkling music that Crowley assumes is the actual game being played. After a few minutes, the Russian starts singing again, and Crowley finds himself empathizing with him once more. He glances at Aziraphale and finds that he really hopes he's wrong about how it ends, because if Aziraphale is Florence and he's the Russian...

And then the Russian and Florence begin singing a duet, and Crowley chokes back a sob, because the heartbreak is unmistakable even before they get to the chorus. But we go on pretending stories like ours have happy endings...

“Is he—he's going back to Russia, isn't he,” he says softly. It's not a question.

“Florence convinces him that it's where he belongs,” Aziraphale says, and his voice isn't any louder. “With his wife and children. But...”

He breaks off as the next line sings out: both the Russian and Florence claiming they're still devoted to this affair. It's the worst kind of heartbreak—both of them still loving each other, but forcing themselves to give one another up for the other's good. Aziraphale closes his eyes.

“S'ppose I can understand that,” Crowley says. He hates it, but he can understand it.

“You can,” Aziraphale says flatly.

Crowley nods slowly, his mind only half on the present and half on the past—the fairly recent past, but still the past. “If we hadn't known both sides were coming for us—if it'd just been Hell coming for me—I'd have gone back to them and let them do what they wanted, so long as they promised to let you alone. So I reckon I'd have given it up, if it meant you'd be happy.”

Aziraphale looks up sharply, and the combination of fear and anguish in his eyes would knock Crowley back a step or two if he was standing. As it is, he flinches back against the chair in surprise. There's a hitch in Aziraphale's voice as he asks, “And what makes you think I'd—my dear boy, they'd have destroyed you utterly. And you think I could have been happy if—?” He breaks off and looks away, but not before Crowley sees the glint of tears in his eyes.

“Angel,” Crowley begins, reaching for his hand, and then he suddenly realizes why it's not working and says, “Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale looks back up, his face open and vulnerable, and he meets Crowley's hand halfway and holds it tightly. “Crowley,” he whispers.

In his name, Crowley hears everything he's wanted to hear for years, everything he thought he'd never hear, and he sees it in Aziraphale's eyes and feels it in his touch, and he grips his hand like a lifeline. He really doesn't think he's imagining it this time, but there's still the whisper of doubt in the back of his mind—the part of him that thinks he doesn't deserve it to be true.

“What if they'd given you a concession, too?” he asks. “Like Florence. If they told you they wouldn't hurt me, that I just wouldn't be allowed back—would you have let me go then? If it meant we were both safe?”

“No,” Aziraphale says, promptly and decidedly, startling Crowley. “Absolutely not. After what happened that day? I wouldn't have agreed to let you walk away from me if it was the only way to save the rest of the world.”

Crowley blinks at Aziraphale, because that's absolutely not something he'd ever expect to hear from the angel. “I thought you angels were supposed to be for the good of humanity or whatever.”

Aziraphale's lips tighten briefly. “First of all, most of the angels are no more for the good of humanity than most demons are. They're for the good of Heaven, and if that just so happens to be good for humans, fine, but if not, I doubt Michael or Gabriel would lose much sleep over that, so to speak. And second, while I am for the good of humanity...” His expression softens, and he tightens his grip on Crowley's hand. “I'm also very, unabashedly selfish. And up to that point, I had always convinced myself that I had time, that there was no need to upset the Arrangement, that everything was going along fine. And then, suddenly, it wasn't, and the end was coming, and I almost lost you. I told myself that if we survived that, I wasn't going to waste another minute.” He sighs. “And then I've rather wasted a lot of them, I'm afraid.”

The record clicks off and the shop goes silent, except for the rain, which Crowley's still trying to ignore. He tries to think what Aziraphale might consider wasting time. “Why, what do you think you ought to have been doing with them then?”

Aziraphale takes a deep breath. He gets up off of his knees and lets go of Crowley's hand, but in the split second between losing the contact and Crowley's panic starting, he leans over and braces himself against the armchair, one hand on each arm, and bends down so that his face is level with Crowley's. Very deliberately, he reaches up and pulls Crowley's dark glasses off of his face and sets them on the table next to him without taking his eyes away, so there's nothing between blue eyes and yellow. Crowley ought to be anxious about losing that filter, about being so open and vulnerable, but it's Aziraphale, the one being he's always wanted to let himself be vulnerable around but never thought he could.

“I ought to have told you the moment the world didn't end that I love you,” he says.

“Ngk,” Crowley replies, which isn't really an answer, but his brain has just short-circuited. He's been dreaming of a moment like this for centuries—millennia, really—but he's always expected it to be more dramatic, more like in the movies. And more to the point, he's always assumed he would be the one to say it. He's never really expected Aziraphale to say it back, except in his wildest fantasies.

“I don't know if you ever knew,” Aziraphale continues. “Certainly I went out of my way not to let you know, but...honestly, Crowley, you're so intelligent, I rather thought you'd figure it out sooner or later. Still, I ought to have told you sooner, and I hope you can forgive me for not.”

“You—wait!” Crowley flails a little, more mentally than physically, but he also doesn't break eye contact with Aziraphale. “I—I honestly had no idea, angel, I thought you—you don't mean that, do you?”

“I do,” Aziraphale says. “With everything I have in me. I love you, Anthony J. Crowley. I've loved you since I saw you on the ark, surrounded by children and trying to pretend you were just thwarting the Plan. I loved you at Golgotha and I loved you in Rome and I loved you in Paris. I loved you when we first came to London and I loved you during the Blitz and I loved you in the Dowlings' garden. I loved you two weeks ago and I love you now, Crowley, and I will love you long after the world stops turning and the final battle does come about.”

Crowley tries to come up with an excuse for all of this, another explanation besides reciprocation of the feelings he's always believed were one-sided. The thing is, he can't. For as smart as Aziraphale seems to think he is, he cannot for the life of him come up with a single reason why Aziraphale might not mean exactly what he's saying, except for the sheer, inescapable fact that nothing good ever happens to Crowley. He stares at Aziraphale, mouth hanging open slightly, at a total loss for words.

Aziraphale stares back. There are a few emotions on his face and Crowley can't quite read any of them, at first. After a moment, though, he recognizes one of them.

Fear.

Oh. Oh. No, that isn't happening. Not on Crowley's watch. Not now, not when he has this chance. He won't blow it like he's blown everything else.

“I love you, too,” he blurts out. “I think I've loved you from the beginning, really, from that moment at the Garden wall when you said you'd given up your sword, but I didn't really realize it until later, I thought—I don't know what I thought, but it's been there, all these centuries, and I—I thought it was just me or I'd've said something sooner and—”

“—And I'd have hurt you dreadfully by pretending I didn't love you, so perhaps it's best that you didn't, sweetheart,” Aziraphale breaks in gently.

Crowley gets hung up on the sweetheart for a minute, so it takes him a bit to catch up with what Aziraphale actually said before that word. “You were pretending that anyway,” he accuses.

“Yes, but so long as I didn't say it...” Aziraphale sighs. “It took me longer than I'd like to admit to realize you felt this way, too. Once I did, I rather hoped you knew how I felt but were sensible enough to keep things quiet.”

“So you wouldn't be seen to be consorting with a demon,” Crowley guesses. Heaven's always been so sanctimonious, and so bloody smug about it. Aziraphale's just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, but he still bought into all that nonsense a lot longer than someone as intelligent as he is ought to have.

Aziraphale takes Crowley's hands in his and straightens, pulling him to his feet as he does so, and they stand toe-to-toe, facing one another, holding hands in a way Crowley's always wanted. He so rarely gets to touch Aziraphale and he's wanted it for centuries, and now here they are. He relaxes into it, even though he's dreading what's coming next. Aziraphale's eyes are so serious as they bore into Crowley's.

“Crowley,” he says quietly, “do you know what Heaven would have done if they had known?”

“They'd have kept us apart,” Crowley says. He's thought of very little else. “Called you back Upstairs. Like they tried that one time, back in the 1800s. You remember?”

Aziraphale shakes his head, and Crowley's going to describe the incident in more detail when Aziraphale says, “No, nothing like that. I was never worried about what they would do to me. Much, anyway. But you...Crowley, they'd have accused you of seducing me. Tempting me away from righteousness or some nonsense like that. That's not something they would have ever forgiven. So I kept it to myself, and I thought...well, the Arrangement worked well, neither of us got bothered very much, so they certainly wouldn't think we were friends and I could at least keep you in my life. And then I realized you felt the same, and I...I got frightened. Because I know well enough that if you ever said it out loud...”

“Heaven would know,” Crowley completes.

“And so would Hell.”

Crowley hisses. “I'd never have let them touch you.” The very idea of it makes his blood boil. Crowley would fight a lot worse than the forces of Hell for Aziraphale.

“It wasn't me they'd have come for,” Aziraphale says softly, and Crowley remembers again just how intelligent the angel really is—and how intuitive. “Heaven would have seen you doing what demons do—tempting and leading astray—and punished you for targeting an angel. Hell would have seen you getting distracted, going soft. They'd have gone after you, dearest, not me. And the very thought terrified me beyond reason. Hell would have destroyed you utterly, but Heaven would have made you suffer first.”

Crowley shudders, remembering the look on Michael's face, the punishment he'd had in store for Aziraphale. He was able to stand up to it because he was doing it for Aziraphale—and because he knew that it wouldn't hurt him really—but the look of contempt and sadistic glee still haunts him. That expression didn't belong to someone big on mercy.

“Either way, wouldn't have been good,” he manages. “For me, at any rate.”

“Or for me. I never would have forgiven myself if I'd been the reason something happened to you. And I wouldn't have been able to survive without you.” Aziraphale tightens his grip on Crowley's hands. “After six thousand years...I cannot lose you, Crowley.”

Crowley's chest constricts, and it's hard for him to catch his breath. He never expected to hear such a heartfelt declaration from his angel—can he actually say that now, his angel? Yes, he supposes he can. That's what all this is boiling down to, isn't it? Aziraphale loves him. He loves Aziraphale. That makes Aziraphale his. And—he'd swallow if he had the air to do it—it makes him Aziraphale's in return.

Aziraphale looks at him for a moment, his expression as serious as Crowley's ever seen it. Finally, he says, “I would very much like to kiss you now, dearest, if you'll let me.”

What Crowley wants to say is I would very much like to kiss you back. What he wants to say is I've been wanting that for at least five millennia. What he wants to say is What are you waiting for?

What he actually says is, “Wg.”

His eyes must convey what he wants to say, though, because Aziraphale lets go of his hands and cups his face gently and tilts it towards him, and Crowley closes his eyes and oh...

The touch of Aziraphale's lips against his is everything he's imagined and more. They're soft and warm and pliant, like the rest of him, and so gentle and tender. Crowley finds himself grabbing desperately at the lapels of Aziraphale's jacket, frantic for something to hold onto lest he find himself floating away into space. Aziraphale slides one hand to the back of Crowley's head, threading it through his hair, and shifts the angle.

Crowley whimpers slightly, and Aziraphale evidently takes it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, which it absolutely would have been if Crowley had known before this moment that was possible. He gasps and tightens his grip on Aziraphale, then melts under the combination of heat and tenderness the angel is pouring into their kiss.

When at last Aziraphale breaks away—slowly, ever so slowly—Crowley finds himself gasping for air and reluctant to open his eyes. He's also vaguely aware that he's trembling all over.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale sounds worried. “Are you all right, dearest?”

“Fine,” Crowley manages, and it's only partly a lie. He's better than fine, actually, he feels fantastic, but at the same time he feels open and vulnerable and known for the first time since he became a demon, and it's a bit much to handle. He forces his eyes open and tries to smile, but he's still a little shaky. “Is it always like that?”

“Is it—have you never kissed anyone before?” Aziraphale asks, obviously startled.

Crowley wonders, for a brief moment, if he wants to be able to say yes, of course I have, or if he should want that. Instead, he decides to be honest. “No. Never wanted to, really.” He hesitates. “Well, except you.”

He sees Aziraphale's expression, interprets it as shock or disbelief or skepticism or some combination of all three, and he does what he often does in these situations: babble. “I know, I know, it's proper demonic activity and all that rot, seducing and luring with sexual wiles and whatnot, but that's not me, angel, that's never been how I work. And I never met anyone that seemed worth wanting to kiss. Never met anyone who was a patch on you, and that's the big thing, I think, is that I compared every person who ever even flirted with me to you—”

“Been that many, then?” Aziraphale interrupts, and Crowley misses the flash in his eyes.

“Yeah, a few,” he says distractedly. “Mostly before we came to England for good, but one or two since then. Parts of the city get a bit—”

He's cut off abruptly by Aziraphale tugging him sharply forward and kissing him again. It's not like the first time at all. Crowley can feel all the emotions in it: passion and a bit of lust and a hefty dose of what feels like possessiveness, and all he can really do is hold on and ride the tide of heat. In a distant part of his mind, he registers that he's being claimed, that Aziraphale is staking his territory and damn anyone who says otherwise. It occurs to him, with a rush of surprise, that Aziraphale might be jealous, even though he's got no reason to be.

He's panting for air when Aziraphale finally lets him up, and he's definitely shaking again. “Yeah, okay, that answers that question then,” he says, a bit dizzy.

Aziraphale, damn him, smirks, rubbing his thumb against Crowley's cheekbone. “I've admittedly had a bit of practice. I'll be happy to show you.”

Crowley definitely feels jealous himself at the thought of the angel kissing anyone else like that. It must show in his face, because Aziraphale's expression softens, and he plants a brief, gentle kiss on the corner of Crowley's mouth. “Only once or twice, while you were taking that long nap of yours. I...I think I was trying to banish the memory of the way I treated you.”

“'S not your fault,” Crowley protests. Now that he knows how Aziraphale's always felt about him—and that Aziraphale knew how he felt in return—a lot of things make more sense. “You know I've never looked at anyone but you, yeah?”

Aziraphale blushes. It's unfairly adorable. “Crowley,” he murmurs. “Will you stay?”

Crowley's heart flutters, and he clutches Aziraphale a little tighter. He's never wanted anything more. “As long as you like, angel.”

“Forever,” Aziraphale whispers.

At that single word, something inside of Crowley rights itself and snaps into place. For the first time in six thousand years, he's right where he belongs. He's home.

“Yes, Aziraphale,” he whispers back, wrapping his arms around the angel's neck and pressing his face into his shoulder. “And even longer.”

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable idiots #azicrow #ollie writes fanfic

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pollylynn · 4 years ago

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Title: Farceur WC: 900

She is worried about Esposito. They are all, obviously, worried about Esposito. But she is . . . specifically worried in a way she’s not sure anyone else is. She’s not sure anyone other than her would think to be worried in the way she is, but she and Esposito are, in many ways, of a kind when it comes to the job.

There are precise pieces of the situation clicking into place for her that she doesn’t like at all—the enclosed space, the civilians, the fact that Jared Stone, gun or no gun, is not exactly an imposing target. It’s almost like dissociating. At a distance, she can see the moves she’d be sorely tempted to make. She can see how they would, in a likelihood, go terribly wrong.

But she can’t exactly say any of that out loud. She can’t—and wouldn’t—call his skills or professionalism into question, and truly, she has no doubt about them at all. She just has . . . specific worries, and it’s important that she keep them to herself.

So she offers a wan smile when Castle is uncharacteristically discreet in hooking her pinky finger as he seeks to reassure her—Hey, if anybody can handle it, Espo can. She gratefully gathers up his conviction and doles it out again to Ryan, to Lanie, most of all, when she rushes into the bullpen—Listen, he has been in worse scrapes than this. She holds on to some of it for herself.

She needs it when Tory calls them in to view the situation in the subway car in real time. The fact that Stone doesn’t know about the camera is an advantage, to be sure, but she doesn’t like at all what she sees. She spies the transit cop at the same moment Lanie does and she’d like to find it hopeful thing, too. She murmurs something to that effect, because that’s what Lanie needs to hear. But she also sees the gun in Stone’s hand and she’d bet anything that it’s police issue—the other cop’s, most likely, but it’s another troubling variable.

The hostages are, too, beyond just their existence. Her heart sinks at the sight of the pregnant woman and her desperate-looking husband. That’s a nerve-wracking dynamic, and she doesn’t like the look of either the sweating guy in the suit or the surly-looking kid. There’s no doubt in her mind that one’s a talker the other has exactly the kind of mouth on him that the situation does not need.

She watches with her fingernails cutting into her palms as Esposito approaches Stone. Her eyes are fixed on the tantalizingly loose grip the man has on the Glock. She can picture herself talking calmly, reasonably, just as Esposito seems to be doing. She can picture herself biding her time, waiting to make her mood. And she can see it all going terribly wrong.

And that’s all before the suicide vest and the dead man’s switch.

The vest makes no sense. It makes less than no sense here, above ground where they find that no one knows much of anything about Jared Stone. No one—literally no one—could have foreseen this turn. It’s a wildcard that narrows Esposito’s options to almost none, and she can feel the fury building in her. She can imagine all too well the way that same fury must be crowding out thoughts of anything but immediate action—taking Stone down hard, as soon as possible.

She’s afraid for him. She thinks about him going after Maddox with her, no questions asked, no plans made. She thinks about every ill-advised chase and take down he’s rushed into, she’s rushed into. They’re too damned much alike, and the stress of knowing that is slowing her down. It’s making her thoughts spiral and breaking her concentration at every turn.

She swaps Ryan into he subway car as a self-defense mechanism. She pictures him chatting Stone into submission, starting a support group for the other hostages then and there, leading the whole gang in campfire songs until a very confused HRT arrives and finds there’s no rescuing left for them to do.

She laughs to herself. It has a distinctly hysterical edge to it, but the tight fist that’s taken up residence in the center of her chest loosens a little. She overhears Castle tossing movie references Gates’s way, and it loosens a little further still. She has to smile down at her phone, because it’s always a little wickedly funny when they’re smack dab in the middle of a crisis and he still finds a way to irritate the Captain.

The Captain, who is asking her something while she’s a million miles away, thinking about all the times he’s saved her from her worst, blackest moments with a well-timed, deeply stupid joke—Do you know why I chose you as my inspiration for Nikki Heat? Because you’re tall.

She’s remembering all those times—too many to count—when her brain finally registers the Captain’s oddball question about pizza, and she has an idea, she has a plan, she has a strategy.

“Pineapple, olives, and double jalapeños, sir.”

It’s their loser pizza. When they play poker for no real money, on the rarer occasions when Ryan and Jenny talk them in to board games, at their boys’ nights when they play video games, they’ll order actual food plus one loser pizza for, well . . .

Castle is careful in his approach. He’s been careful around her this whole while. He knows something is up with her. He knows it’s not the time to ask, and she appreciates how head down and diligent he’s been. But this sudden oddity must seem like a safe enough inroad.

“Loser pizza?” He asks quietly.

“Figured he could use a laugh,” she says. The ground feels firmer beneath her feet. She reaches out discreetly and hooks his pinky finger with her own. “And a reminder that he’s got to play to win.” A/N: I am happy to have an explanation for that ‘pizza.’ Hmm.

images via homeofthenutty

#Castle #Caskett #Castle: Season 7 #Castle: Kill Switch #Kate Beckett #Richard Castle #Javier Esposito #Lanie Parish #Kevin Ryan #Victoria Gates #Fic #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Fan Fic #Fan Fictioin #Writing #Hmm

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grasscorpse · 4 years ago

Text

The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List: Chapter 3

*From Ynntranslations

The next day, when they had finished cleaning up after lunch, Isabella and Leslie met in the music room. “Is this the song you were talking about, Leslie?”

Isabella reached into the bookshelf and took out one of the old books of sheet music lined up there.

“Yeah.”

Leslie took the sheet music from her. He brought a music stand over, and set the score on top of it.

“It’s actually arranged for piano, so I’m not sure how playing it on a violin will work out…”

He carried one of the cases containing musical instruments over to the table, set it on top, and opened the lid. Inside, it held an old but well-maintained violin.

Leslie removed the violin, the glossy brown surface reflecting the light, and set it against his shoulder, resting his chin against it.

Positioning the bow, he tried playing the first note.

A gentle sound echoed inside the music room.

Leslie gave a small sigh and glanced over at Isabella. He then took a deep breath, trying to dispel his anxiety, and began to play.

A calm melody filled the music room.

Isabella sat in a nearby chair and listened to his performance, clearly enjoying herself.

Dropping his gaze to the strings that he was sliding the bow over, Leslie followed the notes. The gentle music strangely reminded Isabella of Leslie’s singing voice, even though the song and sounds were so different.

When Leslie was finished, Isabella applauded.

“What a beautiful song!”

“Yeah, I love this one… But it’s so difficult. I’ve been practicing it for so long, but I still can’t play it perfectly.”

“Really? It sounded fine to me, though?”

She had thought that his performance just now had fulfilled the first item on his list. Isabella tilted her head quizzically.

“No, that wasn’t good enough. See where it gets complicated, right here? I always mess that up.”

Bow still in his hand, Leslie pointed at the score, making a face. Beside him, Isabella peered at the score, but she couldn’t understand anything other than that there was a string of notes that were connected to each other.

“Hmm.” Isabella thought for a bit, then raised her head away from the sheet music.

“I’ve got it. Why don’t you write down a copy of the part that’s giving you trouble, and then practice that by itself?”

Leslie’s eyes widened when he heard Isabella’s advice, and she smiled back at him.

“I don’t know much about music, but I can help you try to figure out what you can do to stop making mistakes.”

Leslie had honestly wondered if he was boring Isabella by making her come with him to practice, but Isabella had turned around and tried to help him in her own way. Leslie smiled.

“Thank you…”

Leslie played the part that he wasn’t good at over and over, then at the end, he played the entire song from the start one more time.

“Aww, you almost had it!”

By that point, Isabella had also figured out the part Leslie was having trouble with. Inwardly, Leslie marveled at how quickly Isabella could figure out literally anything.

Leslie put down the violin, and muttered, “To be honest, I do even worse when there’s someone watching, because I get nervous…”

“Oh? I didn’t know.”

Isabella pointed to the door and asked if he wanted her to go outside, but Leslie hurriedly waved his hands in denial.

“No! That’s not it… I meant, even though that’s usually true, I can play better if you’re here when I’m practicing,” Leslie said, averting his eyes.

Isabella looked puzzled for a moment, then said, “I’m glad,” with a smile of relief.

“Hey, can you play this one, too?”

“Huh?

When he heard the song that Isabella hummed, he couldn’t help laughing. It was the one he had composed, and Isabella was humming as a substitute for a title.

“Okay…”

Leslie picked the violin back up and positioned it, then began playing the melody while Isabella sang along. Partway through, Leslie decided to go with a different arrangement and increased the tempo a bit. Isabella laughed aloud at how cheerful it suddenly sounded.

“Okay, I need to get back to practicing, now.”

Leslie reviewed the section of the music that he hadn’t been able to play. Isabella glanced at the clock hung in the music room. Their free time only lasted until 5 pm.

“Hey, Leslie, why don’t you save the violin for tomorrow, and go ahead and move on to the next thing on your list?”

Before Leslie himself could remember which one that was, Isabella provided the answer. “‘Get a full score on my tests!’”

Isabella and Leslie sat side-by-side at a large table in the library.

“So when they ask for the surface area in this kind of problem, first you have to use , and that will give you object A’s…”

“Could… could you repeat that?”

With the notebook containing his homework open in front of him, Leslie was clutching his head trying to follow Isabella’s fast-moving explanation. She was kind enough to teach him how to do the parts he didn’t understand, but her explanations were so complicated that he could barely understand anything she was saying.

With a sigh, Leslie did a faceplant into his open notebook.

“There’s no way I can get a perfect score on the test tomorrow…”

“That’s not true! Once you’ve learned how to solve a problem, you just have to apply that,” Isabella told him—which was easy for her to say, as the one teaching him. Leslie wanted to say that it might be easy for her to do, but he resisted the urge.

“Hey, Isabella, Leslie, come play with us!”

“Soon we won’t get to play with Leslie anymore!”

A group of the younger children had come into the library, and were now standing on their toes and peering over the edge of the table. After noticing that the two had disappeared during their free time, the group had searched for them the whole time. Isabella and Leslie glanced at one another.

He hadn’t made any progress in his studies, but they couldn’t just say no to their little brothers and sisters. Leslie nodded, forcing a slight smile, and Isabella announced in a loud voice, “In that case, let’s try the next one, ‘be the last one left when we play tag’!”

Their little brothers and sisters cheered as Isabella stood up.

“W-wait for me, Isabella!”

Isabella and the others had immediately dashed out of the library, leaving Leslie to hurriedly gather his notebooks and papers and run after them with his arms full.

The child chosen to be “it” began counting, the sound of his voice echoing through the woods.

“This way, Leslie!”

Leslie was already breathing heavily. “Isabella, wait.”

Nimbly leaping over obstacles like rocks and bushes, Isabella made swift progress running into the depths of the forest. Leslie tried to follow her, but even a little bit of running left him out of breath. It took everything he had just to keep her in sight, and since he was looking straight ahead, he kept stumbling over rocks and tree roots.

Isabella glanced behind her, and when Leslie caught up to her, she pointed up and said, “Hurry and climb it before he gets here.”

“What?!”

Isabella was pointing to an enormous tree, thick with branches. Leslie was gasping for breath, doubled over, and he looked up at the tree and shook his head.

“I can’t climb a tree that tall!”

As Leslie tried to tell her that it was impossible, a look of sudden inspiration lit Isabella’s face.

“Then this is your chance to do number 5 on the list! ‘Learn to climb trees’!”

“What?”

“This way, we can take care of number 3, ‘be the last one left when we play tag,’ and number 5, ‘tree climbing,’ at the same time! Ooh, and I bet we can do number 8, too, if we keep going through the woods! That’s three at once!”

Isabella’s face shone as she spoke, certain that she had the perfect idea, and Leslie was struck speechless.

Isabella thought about things the same way that she played chess, always thinking about how to accomplish as many things as possible with a single move. Listening to her, she made it sound like it might really be possible for him to do everything on the list before leaving the House.

Unfortunately, whether her plans were good was an entirely different question from whether Leslie would realistically have any chance of carrying them out.

“I can’t reach.”

“It’s okay, just let go with one hand and try reaching over here.”

Isabella, atop a branch, extended her hand to him. Leslie was hanging onto a branch for dear life, kicking his feet uselessly in the air, unable to find a foothold.

“I don’t… think I can… AAHH!”

Leslie fell from the tree with a thud. Fortunately (or unfortunately), he hadn’t made it very far up the tree, so he wasn’t in danger of being hurt.

“Oww…”

“Leslie, what are you doing?”

Their little brother who was “it” emerged from a nearby thicket, having heard the noise, and he looked with astonishment at Leslie lying on the ground.

“Got you!”

“Ugh…”

Leslie slumped his shoulders at having been caught so easily by his little brother.

In the branches above, Isabella folded her arms and began considering her next move in this “chess game.”

“Number 4, ‘read all the books in the library’.”

“No, Isabella, there’s no way I can do that!” Leslie cried, looking at the mountain of books that Isabella had just dumped in front of him with a heavy thunk.

Leslie had been doing homework and studying on his bed before lights-out, when Isabella came in with as many books as she could possibly hold. Leslie’s eyes widened. After Isabella set the books down, she seated herself on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t worry! I’ll read them, too.”

“I’m… not sure that counts…”

Leslie took one of the books and opened it, but he wasn’t sure that he could finish reading even the one. It was a thick, difficult book titled “Mechanical Engineering and Human History.” Who would read a book like that in the first place?

He had only put that item on his list because he thought that if he could increase his base of knowledge, he might be able to become as smart as Isabella. As his eyes followed the words on the page, he scratched his cheek. He liked reading well enough, but when reading difficult books, it took him a long time to figure out each part.

“Isabella, it’s time for lights out.”

“Okay.”

Isabella was sitting on the edge of the bed, absorbed in reading the book on her lap. Even when replying to him, she never ceased turning the pages. Her speed left him wondering how she could possibly read that much in an instant, but she just kept turning the pages one after another.

One by one, their other siblings in the room fell asleep. Leslie could hear the sound of them breathing in their sleep.

Since they had to turn out the light in the room, he fetched a lamp, and the two of them furtively read by its light. Even so, they wouldn’t be able to keep doing this until Mama came to check on them.

“Hey, Isabella, you need to go back to your room.” Leslie said, worried, but Isabella, concentrating on her reading, never lifted her face.

The faint sound of footsteps emanated from the hallway.

“Isabella? Are you listening to me?”

“Leslie, pretend you’re asleep.”

“Huh?”

Isabella suddenly got up from the bed, where she had been sitting, and lay face-down on the floor, clutching her book. Leslie tried to ask her what she was doing, but in that instant, the door to the room opened.

Mama, who had come to make sure that they had the lights off, frowned at Leslie, who was obviously still awake.

“What are you doing, Leslie? Hurry up and go to sleep.”

“Y-yes, Mama.”

Leslie hurriedly shut his book and dived under the covers.

Geez, Isabella… If you knew Mama was coming, you could have told me.

His face half-hidden by the covers, Leslie watched Mama turn around to leave. Number 7 on his list popped into his head. “Get Mama to praise me for something other than music”—forget getting praise, he’d gotten a scolding instead.

After the door to the room closed and the sound of footsteps grew distant, Isabella stood up.

“Is Mama gone?”

“She is, but… you really need to go back now, Isabella.”

Isabella gave a small sigh, and set down the book she had just begun reading. Pushing her braid back behind her, she grumbled to herself, “I only got through ten books…” Leslie realized that beside her was an entire stack of books that she had finished.

Leslie glanced down at his first book, sitting on his lap, and sighed.

“Isabella… I don’t think I’m going to be able to do any of them,” Leslie said in a quiet voice, so as not to awaken the other children. Putting down the book, he opened up the notebook, which he had beside him.

“I just can’t do it.”

He had worked so hard for so long, by himself, in secret.

He had thought that maybe, if he could do all the things on his list, he would be able to change, to become someone different, but before he knew it, lost in his dreams, the day when he would leave the House had been set.

When he had been sorting through his things the day before, Leslie had already given up on trying to fulfill the items on his list. He was out of time, and it was over now, he thought.

But in a way he had never imagined happening, Isabella decided to help him out.

I never thought I’d end up working on the list with Isabella.

He had wanted to quit, thinking of it as an impossible challenge, but every time he did, he remembered Isabella smiling and saying “Why not? This is the last time you’ll be here.” That was the reason he had decided to work as hard as he could at in in the two days left until his departure.

He thought that maybe it could be possible, if he could tackle it with Isabella.

But the result was a disaster.

“Come on, you knew it would be that way from the start,” Leslie thought, slumping. Even if Isabella helped, that wouldn’t suddenly make him more capable.

Even after spending an entire day working at it, he hadn’t accomplished a single one.

“… And it’s not like I could do anything about a shooting star, either.”

Even aside from that one, he had very little hope for any of them. Doing all of them would be utterly impossible. Isabella leaned over toward Leslie, who had his face lowered.

“There’s still time, right? It’s too soon to give up.”

Isabella had wasted no time trying to cheer him up, and he smiled back at her—a smile full of self-loathing and loneliness.

“You’re incredible, Isabella… You can keep going and never give up, no matter what happens.”

Shadows from the lamp, turned down low, fell on Leslie’s face.

Leslie looked down at the list he had written.

“I wonder if my new father and mother will be disappointed when a useless guy like me shows up to be their foster child,” he whispered.

It had been weighing on his mind the whole time.

Leslie closed the notebook, and listlessly placed his hand on the cover.

“I’m think going to ask Mama tomorrow… if I can decline to go to that foster family.”

This was how Leslie had felt ever since hearing that they had found a foster family for him.

Even though there were other children who deserved it more than him.

Leslie looked at Isabella sitting right in front of him.

He wondered what he would do if, when he met his “parents” for the first time, they said “I don’t want a kid like this.” Maybe, even if they didn’t say anything, they would be disappointed and think “I wish we’d gotten a different kid.” His anxieties had done nothing but grow since the moment he was told about the foster family.

That was why fear had won out over hope regarding his new life that would begin soon.

Everyone would eventually leave the House. He had always known that his time would come, too, but once everything had been decided, he found himself frightened of going to live with a new family.

He wanted to stay in the House, now and forever.

He wanted to live here always, with Isabella, and Mama, and his siblings.

Which wasn’t to say that Leslie didn’t also long to see the outside world. It must be overflowing with so much music that they didn’t have in the House. He wanted to listen to an orchestra. He wanted to try playing music he didn’t already know.

He wanted as many people as possible to hear the music he had composed.

He had sometimes dreamed of the outside world like that, but Leslie continued to feel that, as long as he could be with Isabella in the House, he didn’t really want to go be with a new family.

If he left for the outside and a new family, they would be split up, and they would no longer be able to spend time together like this.

Laughing and talking about nothing in particular, struggling to keep up with her wild and unpredictable behavior, being encouraged by her kind words.

Singing together.

Just thinking about it made him feel so lonely he couldn’t stand it.

Leslie sighed. Isabella had silently listened to him, and he was about to tell her to go back to her room, for real this time. At that moment, Isabella, her head hung, opened her mouth and spoke.

“How can you say that, Leslie?”

“What…?”

Leslie started in surprise at the look Isabella was shooting him.

She was furious. The face that was always smiling so happily at him was now, in the lamplight, harsher than he’d ever seen. Shocked, Leslie found himself unable to say anything.

Isabella fixed her intense gaze on Leslie.

“They said they wanted you for a foster child. They chose you. Not me, or any other child in the House. So how can you say that?!” Isabella said, and pursed her lips.

“I-I’m sorry, Isabella… I didn’t mean—”

Flustered, Leslie voiced an apology and tried to reach out to her, but Isabella avoided it, too fast for him.

“… Forget it, Leslie. I don’t care anymore.”

Isabella spit out the words and ran from the room. The door shut, cutting Leslie off as he tried to call out to her.

Mama, who was there to inspect the rooms, was standing in front of the door to her room, but Isabella walked toward the room anyway.

On seeing Isabella appear from behind her, Mama slid her pocket watch back into her pocket.

“Isabella, where were you? It’s time for lights out.”

“I’m sorry, Mama.”

Walking around her, Isabella crawled into her own bed. For a little while, Mama watched her, but finally she said, “Good night, Isabella” and closed the door.

Now that the lights in the room were off, the faint blue light of the stars shone in through the window.

All around her, Isabella could hear the quiet breathing of her siblings who had already fallen asleep.

Her face buried in her pillow, the words she had spoken only a short time ago came back to her, and she felt a pain deep in her chest.

“…”

Why did I say that?

This was the first time she’d ever had a fight with Leslie.

She wrapped herself in the cool sheets, and her mind slowly calmed down from its overemotional state. The things she had said suddenly seemed so thoughtless and embarrassing.

It’s not Leslie’s fault…

“It’s mine.”

Isabella bit her lip.

When she had heard Leslie say that he wanted to turn down his foster family, her darker emotions had come surging out, and she hadn’t been able to hold them back.

Every time Isabella saw off another sibling, older or younger, she would always think to herself, deep down, “They didn’t pick me this time, either.”

Of course, she kept it to herself, and even within her own mind, she tried to extinguish those thoughts. They were all her precious, irreplaceable siblings. How could she not be happy for them when they could have a new life with a new family on the outside? She knew she should be happy for them.

But as other children kept being chosen, Isabella began to experience the first twinges of unease and a sense of inferiority.

She thought that there must be some reason she wasn’t being chosen, something lacking in her.

So she poured all her effort into improving at her studies and everything else. She was always a top scorer, volunteered to do chores, and even looked after the younger children. Isabella knew that Mama held her in high regard.

Yet no matter how hard she tried, other kids were always chosen.

If anything, it seemed like her siblings with lower scores were more likely to be chosen for foster families.

Isabella sighed, tossing and turning in her bed. She realized that her hair was still braided, and used her fingers to undo it. She laid her head back on the pillow, but she didn’t feel like she could sleep.

Leslie was so kind and gentle, and she had hurt him.

His face, struck speechless when he heard what she had said, appeared in her mind. It was the first time Leslie had made that kind of face because of her.

What do I do if Leslie hates me…?

Tears began to well up in her eyes, but Isabella held them back. She castigated herself, asking why, of all times, she had done this when they only had one day left—tomorrow—together.

Leslie’s song began to play in her mind, as she lay unable to sleep.

“…”

Isabella tried singing it, in a small voice, and gradually, a feeling of warmth filled her heart. Isabella kept on singing, in a voice so soft that only she could hear.

This song sounds like a lullaby.

Just listening to it made her feel at peace, and the worry and sadness she had felt until them vanished like smoke.

Leslie would leave the House tomorrow night.

Tomorrow would be the last day she could spend with Leslie.

I need to apologize him, and get him to forgive me…

As she thought about that, Isabella slipped into a deep sleep.

#The Starry Sky and Leslie’s List #the promised neverland novel #tpn isabella #tpn leslie #tpn novel #the promised neverland #isabella #Yakusoku no Neverland

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cals-sunflower · 5 years ago

Text

Rude girl thing(J.P)

Being Nick’s best friend meant getting to go to a lot of cool places with him. You’ve been friends since kindergarten and haven’t stopped now, he is one year older then you and has made fun of you ever since. When you found out him and the boys were going to be dropping a song with another boy band, you were so happy for them. Of course, since management knew you from the start, they allowed you to go to the video shooting.

“Wake up ugly, we gotta go in 20 minutes”, Nick jumps on your bed and hits you with a pillow.

“Nicholas, stop it”, you turned over and rearranged the covers over your head. Nick ripped the covers off of your head and jolted you up.

“Come on we’re gonna be late ma”, you got up and gave him the dirtiest look you could give him. To which he started laughing and shuffles to your closet to put out your fit.

“Great, you pick my outfit and I’ll be in the shower. By the way, good morning idiot”, you layed a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Ew Y/n, that’s disgusting”, clearly joking with you. You popped your head out and smiled.

“You love me”, you closed the bathroom door and began to wash and get your life situated.

Coming out of the shower feeling fresher than ever, you walk out and see the door closed with an outfit on the bed. Nick had picked out a white long sleeve crop top, red/black/grey/white plaid skirt, and your black thigh high boots. He also left gold hoops with a small gold chain that he brought you for Christmas.

“Hmm maybe Nicholas does have taste”, you threw on the outfit with the accessories and put your hair into a neat bun. You grab your black mini backpack, put in the things you needed (which were snacks, charger, your slides, and your lip gloss) and you headed downstairs.

“Woah, look at you. Who you tryna impress because we don’t want you”, Zion put his arm around you.

“Good because I don’t like y’all anyway”, you cracked a smile.

“Don’t drag me into this. Y/n you really look nice”, Austin complements you. You threw your arms around Austin pulling him into a hug.

“Thank you Aus. You guys look great”, you acknowledged.

“Okay, we’re gonna be late but like credits to me for this damn outfit”, Nick gave you a spin. You guys walk out the door and head into the car. The car ride was not that long, so before you knew it you guys were out of the car walking towards the door of the shooting area.

“You ready? Maybe you could find a boyfriend”, Nick winked at you. You rolled your eyes and pushed him. You guys walk up to the 5 other guys that were in the room.

“Yo what’s up”, Brandon dapped up a guy with red curly hair.

“This is my best friend Y/n”, Nick introduces you to the group then you knew but didn’t at the same time.

“Hey, I’m Richard. Nice to meet you”, he pulled you into a friendly hug.

“Christopher but you can call me Chris”

“Zabdiel, nice to meet you”

“Erick”

“Hola, mi amor. I’m Joel”, you shook each of the boys hands and Joel was bold enough to kiss your hand. You turned and gave Edwin a look.

“Okay boys lets get started”, the director called all 10 guys. Joel lets your hand go slowly and throws you a wink. Walking off the start the first few shots. You set down on one of the chairs and start scrolling through Twitter. You seen a lot of fans talking about the Cnco and Prettymuch collab. You liked the guys of Cnco..... Except for Joel, he kinda gets under your skin. Of course, you thought he was cute but he seemed really cocky.

“Okay cut, let’s take a few minutes”, the director yelled. All the guys walked out of where they were recently in frame. A sweaty Nick walked over to you and layed his head on your shoulder.

“You okay?”, you rubbed his cheek. That’s the type of best friend pair you guys were, very affectionate but didn’t have any romantic feelings for each other.

“Yeah, I’m just tired as hell”, he laughed. Joel felt jealous, he’s known you for at least an hour and already wanted you all to his self. You felt Joel’s intense glair on you and Nick.

“I have to use the bathroom, move your head Nick”, he moved his head over of your shoulder and walked to get a bottled water.

“Does anyone know where the bathroom is?”, you asked.

“I do, follow me gorgeous”, you rolled your eyes at Joel but nevertheless followed him to your destination. Once out of ear shot, Joel turns to you.

“What’s up with the attitude?”, he questioned you.

“I simply don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You definitely do. But it’s ok princesa, I like this rude act you’re giving me”, he leans close to whisper in your ear. You guys make it to where the bathroom was and he looked at you one more time before walking away like nothing happened.

“How dare him? Makes me feel all bothered and then leaves like nothing happened”, you mumbled to yourself while washing your hands. You hated the way Joel was making you feel. Part of you wanted to slap him but the other part wanted him to literally take you anywhere and any time.

“You guys are done for today. Come back tomorrow to finish up”, everyone had decided to go to dinner.

“I heard Olive Garden has really good chicken alfredo”, Richard piped in.

“Hmm can’t wait to get a taste”, Joel licked his lips and made eye contact with you. You felt as though you were gonna melt, not wanting to fall for his fuckboy ways you straightened up and looked away from him.

“Well what are we waiting for? Your girl is hungry”, you pout.

“Okay, we’ll meet you guys there. Come on ugly”, Nick grabbed your hand and walked out with the others behind you guys.

“Are you sure I’m the one that ugly shark boy?”, you looked him up and down.

-At Olive Garden-

Everyone was getting seated for the seated arrangements. Joel pulled out your chair for you. Not only did it make your heart beat but it made you nervous to be around him.

“There you go ma”, Joel pushed your chair in and sat in the seat next to you on your right side. Your face begins to heat up with your best friend looking at you with a look that basically said “i see you guys”.

Everyone was eating and making conversation with each other. Surprisingly you found yourself talking to Joel, someone who you thought had bad intentions. You didn’t want to start liking someone with a possibility that they were just gonna play you. It’s happened too many times before, so you learned to keep your guard up.

“When can I take you on a date?”, he asked straight forward. You sorta choked on your drink as those words came from his mouth. You set your drink down and turn your body towards him more.

“Joel, I think you’re really cute. Fuck hot even but your intentions don’t seem genuine. I refuse to get hurt by another attractive fuck boy”, you stood up grabbing the keys that was on the table and left without saying another word.

Once you were outside and finally in an area where you could be alone, you began to get mad at yourself.

“Damnit, why couldn’t I just ignore him? Why does he have to be cute? Ugh”, you threw your hands up.

“Umm Y/n”, slow footsteps approached you and you heard that rich sounding familiar voice. Turning around you face Joel.

“Look, I didn’t mean to make you upset. I listened to Chris and it doesn’t work for me. I’ll understand if you don’t wanna go out with me, I mean not after-“, you cut him with a quick fuck it and kissed him.

It was almost as if this was your missing piece. Your lips connected and felt like a solved puzzle. His arms landed around your waist pulling you closer even if you were a close as you could get. Your arms are at the base of his neck with your hands reaching to touch the soft curls he has.

“I guess they’re good now”, Erick turned to the other boys as each of them became nosey and looked out the window wanting to see what was gonna happen.

“Aw I thought she was gonna slap him”, Richard pouts while Zabdiel and Brandon clap obviously winning the bet.

“Hand the money over pendejo”, Zabdiel held out his hand to Richard, who hands him a $20. Making Edwin hand a $20 to Brandon.

“So , can I take you on a date now?”, Joel crossed his fingers hoping you’ll say yes.

“Yes, Joel. Friday at 8?”, you grabbed his hand.

“Yes, I’ll pick you up at 8”, he leans in to kiss your cheek. You let out a laugh and walk back towards the restaurant.

“Also are you gonna keep the rude girl thing up?”, he called out to you. You turn around briefly to send him a smirk.

“I don’t know maybe”, you throw him a wink and continue walking. Joel takes a long look at how the skirt fits your body perfectly before jogging to catch up to you. He pulled you to a stop and leans down to your ear.

“Well baby work that rude girl thing on me”, you both continue walking with a smile.

A/n: I got so inspired by this line that Joel sings in the song! Honestly Me Necesita was so good and I really loved the vibe.

#edwin honoret #nick mara #zion kuwonu #brandon arreaga #austin porter #prettymuch #cncomuch #joel pimentel #christopher vélez #erick brian colon #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesús #cnco imagines #prettymuch imagines

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smoljoelito · 5 years ago

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Prompt List #1

For accurate life prompts or AU’s, this list will inspire many whether for CNCO or other fandoms. Feel free to reblog to get requests as well :) My requests are now closed!

1. “Tell me who hurt you and I swear to god I’ll end them.”

2. “Truth or dare?” “Dare.” “I dare you to let me give you a shotgun kiss.”

3. “I’ll give you $50 to be my date tonight.”

4. “How long are we going to hide our relationship?”

5. *jumps on the back of a person’s motorcycle* “Fucking drive!”

6. “You’re a brat, you know that?”

7. “You could speak Spanish this whole time?”

8. “If we are going to date, you’re getting rid of those tan shoes.”

9. “Tu sonrisaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, te amooooooooooooooooooo!” “You’re so drunk.”

10. “Holy shit, she can dance too.”

11. “Wait, you don’t like our music?”

12. “Wait, you’ve wanted to be with me this entire time and you’ve never said a word, but now that I’m in a relationship you do?”

13. “99% vanilla my ass.”

14. “Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”

15. “When I told you to leave, I meant never come back, yet here you are.”

16. “You’re going on live television and wearing that?”

17. “It’s either me or that outfit at the award show, one is not going.”

18. “Babyyyyyy, why’d you stop touching my hair?”

19. “The way you get along with my family just melts my heart.”

20. “I think my mom loves you more than me.”

21. “Te dije que me querías pero no me creíste. Pensaste que lo era un chiste.”

22. “Why do you keep staring at me, what do you want?” “You.”

23. “Who wouldn’t want to date you? You’re a total package.”

24. “You say stuff like that then wonder why I’m insecure.”

25. “You need a filter for your mouth!”

26. “You wrote a song… for me?”

27. “Truth or dare?” “Truth.” “If you were to date one of us, who would you pick?”

28. “She thinks I’m adorable!” “Isn’t that a good thing?” “No! I don’t want to be adorable! It’s infuriating!”

29. “So are you just going to stand there and stare at me all night or are you going to buy me a drink?”

30. “You’ve been watching me all night and haven’t done a thing about it, so I decided too.”

31. “Wanna dance?” “Hmm… I don’t know are you good enough?”

32. “You have commitment issues so I’m going to go find someone who doesn’t.”

33. “If you’re going to watch my lips all night might as well do something about it.”

34. “So those other girls don’t mean anything to you? Well sorry, they mean something to me.”

35. “Apparently, all the other boys have a bet that we are going to end up together.”

36. “Hold my hand tight and don’t let go, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

37. “Dímelo otra vez.”

38. “I’ve been waiting so long to do that.”

39. “Stop ignoring it! How can you say we weren’t made for each other?”

40. “Do you feel the same way when he touches you?”

41. “I don’t need you to tell me you want me, I can see the goosebumps that rise on your skin when I even so much as whisper in your ear.”

42. “Stop biting your lip like that.”

43. “Mom, I swear to god I’m going to marry her one day.”

44. “I’m going to kiss you and the only one that can stop me is you.”

45. “I will spend the rest of my life making you laugh, I swear it.”

46. “Don’t lie and say you don’t feel it too!”

47. “The universe keeps bringing us back together for some reason, and I think maybe we should listen to it for once.”

48. “Who the hell is that?”

49. “Oh shit, that girl is your cousin? My bad.”

50. “By the end of our first date, I knew you were it for me baby.”

51. “Are those my rings?” “…No.”

52. “Please, I’m begging you! I need you to help me. What will it take?” “Go on a date with me.”

53. “Baby, you’re trying to say you don’t like me back, but your cheeks are as red as cherries.”

54. “Do you believe in soulmates?” “If you would’ve asked me that a few years ago, I would’ve told you you’re a fool, but now, yes.” “What changed?”

55. “Is this a date?”

56. “I’m not leaving you, not now, not ever.”

57. “Can I pet your dog, please?”

58. “Do you like me, or are you just hitting on me because you’re a flirt?”

59. “Why should I take a chance with you when you’ll most likely break my heart?”

60. “Why are you so mad that I’m going on a date?”

61. “God! I love you, okay?”

62. “You’re such a tease.”

63. “You need to stop wearing those headbands.”

64. “Hey there mami, what’s your name?” “Y/n, and I’m not your mami.”

65. “Does it look like I speak Spanish to you?”

66. “Hi, sorry to bother you, but that man standing over there at the bar with the girl in the red dress is my ex. I’ll give you $20 to help me make him jealous tonight.”

67. “You’ve never seen Harry Potter?!”

68. “You told me you loved me then ran away, what am I supposed to do with that?”

69. “Oh fuck me.” “Gladly.”

70. “This is probably the worst moment ever to say this, but I really want to kiss you right now.”

71. “How did you get my number exactly?”

72. “I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” “Not even him?” “Never mind.”

73. “Why are we standing so close together?”

74. “You made falling in love with you so incredibly easy, I didn’t even know it was happening until I realized I loved you.”

75. “That guy has been watching you all night baby.” “Who… Oh shit he’s hot, what do I do?”

76. “Let’s call it a hang out, but I pay for everything and we dress really nice.”

77. “Stop inviting people out on our date!” “Since when did it become a date?” “Yeah… uh… a friend date of course!”

78. “They’re not good enough for you!” “Well, then who is?” “Me! It’d be an honor to love you!”

79. “When did you learn to kiss like that?”

80. “So… uh… how did we end up making out exactly?”

81. “Why do people always think we are dating?”

82. “I’m sorry, I have to say this. You literally have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

83. “God, making you blush is so easy.”

84. “What are you scared of?” “Well… you.”

85. “Don’t just kiss me like that then walk away!”

86. “Sing to me, please.”

87. “I’m trying to write a song right now and I need you to come over.” “Okay, why?” “You inspire me just get over here.”

88. “So you’re hot, funny, and smart, yet you’re still talking to me?”

89. “Have you been taking wrong turns on purpose?”

90. “So is your personality only comprised of flirting? Cause I’m getting bored.”

91. “I knew you were a hopeless romantic oh my god.”

92. “You put Nicholas Sparks to shame.”

93. “I finally worked up the courage to come and talk to you tonight, and you just break my heart from the get-go?”

94. “You’re a bitch.” “Yeah, you’re right, but I’m not your bitch so I’m still winning.”

95. “You’re like a ray of sunshine.”

96. “Why do you hate me? When did this start exactly?” “Now that you ask, I don’t actually know.”

97. “You fell asleep on me.” “Oh god, I’m sorry.” “Don’t be, it was cute.”

98. “There wasn’t any specific thing you did to make me fall in love with you, but many little things.”

99. “I believe God put you in my life for a reason.”

100. “You always know the right thing to say.”

#prompts #prompt list #story prompt #writing prompt #writing prompts #prompt #cnco #cnco prompts #cnco imagines #cnco preferences #cnco headcanons #cnco one shots #joel pimentel #richard camacho #zabdiel de jesus #christopher velez #erick brian colon #erick #em’s prompt lists

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severalspoons · 4 years ago

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Liveblog: Rewatching Trigun, Episode 17, Part 1

Episode 17 frustrates me immensely. All the most important facts are stated clearly. But a lot of the meaning and implications are at best found in brief hints. And while there’s a lot of symbolism, discussed in an interesting way here, it’s not enough to explain why Knives decided it was right to kill everyone except themselves and perhaps Rem. I would even argue, that’s never explained.

Get ready for a long post, because I’m going to overthink everything.

-- “I think that planet is going to be our new home!”

-- Rem is excited to create their new home, the Captain has a scientific bent, and Steve is a drunk, sexually harrassing pig. There is also a lady whose name I didn’t catch who seems to exist to be harrassed by Steve in the anime. Edit: There is also a lady named Mary who doesn’t seem to have any purpose until later.

-- Who does make the decision where they’ll land? Especially if almost everyone on the fleet except a small skeleton crew is in cold sleep.

-- Why are the twins in a separate room from the crew?

-- Knives is quietly watching the screen. Vash is wearing a party hat and a fake mustache and generally messing around. Wonder how well he understands what’s going on?

-- “Are there flowers on this planet?” Rem, you’re literally all seeing this planet for the first time and all the readings are about large-scale things like atmosphere and habitability. How would anyone know?

-- Also, is it just me or is Rem’s voice just high pitched enough to be really annoying? (Sorry). Also...is she drunk?

-- Rem, suppose there are no red flowers. Would that be a dealbreaker for you?

-- “Why don’t they wake up?” Wait. Does Vash seriously not know what cold sleep is and that these people are in cold sleep???

-- “It’s so quiet. There’s only 7 people.” I get it, it’s a big ship to be occupied by so few people, but let’s just say I’m not surprised how much time he spends in crowded bars years later.

-- Vash doesn’t know what’s written on the outside of the ship? I’d think if there were no windows from which he could view the writing, there’d be information in the ship’s computers. Does he just sit around waiting to be told about the world?

-- “If there’s a God...He must be laughing right now. Our pitiful struggle for immortality must seem like an impossible quest to Him.. “the desperate human will to survive, to carry on our species.” Even Rem, the dreamer, calls the whole thing “pitiful” and “impossible.” No wonder Knives comes to see it that way.

Rem is agnostic?

-- “We’re the caretakers...it’s our job to let them sleep in peace.” “is there anything we can do to help you?” Aww. <3

Um, she did say “our” job, Vash. That includes you. Or is this how he communicates he doesn’t see himself as part of the crew, but would still like to help? Honestly, if it was typical how they kept him and Knives in a separate room even when celebrating the discovery of a potential new home, I can see why.

-- “Oh, THAT’s where you are.” Knives sounds like he got bored with the area and moved on a long time ago. His voice sounds harsher than Vash’s from the beginning.

-- The conversation between Knives and Rem in the rec room is weird. Like Knives is judging Rem, or Rem at least feels that way. “You really like that song.” Kids would normally ask a question, like “why do you sing that song so much?” or “what is that song?”

“It pops into my head whenever I feel happy. Do you think it’s strange?” Who asks their 8 year old adopted kid if they think your everyday habits are strange?

“No, it’s a nice song,” which is a judgment even though it’s a positive one.

After hearing Knives’ voice sound like that it’s weird to see his cute wide eyes. The crew member behind him looks uncomfortable.

-- “It’s weird. Nothing moved since we’ve been here, but everything seems different for some reason.” “That’s because it’s alive!” That’s actually a profound point about the difference between something made, like a computer, and something that grows, like a person. You always know what a program is going to do because you wrote it that way, and your furniture is always going to stay in the same place unless someone moves it. But a flower or an insect or a person is constantly changing, and you can’t always predict how.

-- “Hmm?” That doesn’t make intuitive sense to Knives, I guess. Vash is smiling behind Rem. IDK if that’s because it makes sense to him, or because he just enjoys listening to what Rem says.

-- “It has its own rhythm. You can actually feel the living heartbeat of the plants.” I think Knives is thinking of a different kind of plant than you are, Rem.

-- “So this is the world you and the crew keep talking about.”

-- “We’re not just going to see it, we’re going to create it.” Vash and Knives seem to agree on that. They just will end up with very different ideas of what that Eden looks like. :(

-- “There will be nothing but peaceful days,” “with no war,” “and no stealing,” “an Eden where people can live in freedom and harmony, right?” (That’s got to be Vash at the end, asking for confirmation or approval).

Aww, those sweet little babies and their impossible dream, finishing each other’s sentences! I am crying all the tears right now.

Although, even Vash isn’t as naive as you’d think from how he talks. They know what war and stealing are. They know that freedom and harmony aren’t guaranteed. They’ve probably studied at least some of Earth’s history.

-- Here we are at the moment of no return! In the briefing room, Rem, the Captain, and the twins are sitting around a table looking at a hologram of Earth. Vash and Knives are told that Project SEEDS started because “the state of our home, Earth, was so desperate that...mankind could no longer survive there.”

-- “Judging from the data, mankind is responsible for damaging the planet,” Knives says. “Right, Captain?” He’s being objective, he’s looking at the data, he’s asking the Captain rather than Rem for help. But I bet he’s hoping it isn’t true.

-- Why SEEDS? Rem: “the need to survive.” Seems morally neutral enough.

The Captain: “the behavior of clinging to life until the verge of death is intrinsic to all organisms. Survival instincts take over, dismissing shame in order to live.” The Captain seems to be ashamed not only of humans destroying the Earth, but of their trying to survive. Knives seems to get that message loud and clear.

What Vash seemed to pick up is the idea that people should be ashamed of what they do to survive, and maybe that it’s right to hang onto that as much as you can while still living. Maybe that’s what the scars are for?

-- “But is it right to live if it means such sacrifices?” That’s...a cold way of putting it, Knives.

-- “We make the smallest sacrifice we can think of at the time.”

One could say Knives picked up this idea, but I don’t think so. He’s going to make some pretty big “sacrifices,” and I don’t think he tries to keep them small for very long.

-- Two different (and actually compatible) answers to Knives’ question:

“Unlike other organisms on this planet, we possess logic, the knowledge to minimize the sacrifice.”

“Also, as human beings, we have the ability to right our wrongs. Hopefully we can learn from our mistakes and start over again in a new home.” Hopefully. Even Rem knows there’s no guarantee.

-- After the meeting, the Captain realizes (surprisingly, before Rem does), that it didn’t go well. He believes he doesn’t know how to be an educator and he’s not cut out to be a father. He downplays his knowledge of computers and reasoning, and says what really matters is what Rem does: teach them about emotions, being kind to others, and the value of the future.

Rem, in turn, says she has no idea how to raise kids either, and what she does is no big deal, she just plays with them.

“I guess we just have a different way of looking at things,” the Captain says. And they continue respecting each other’s perspective and working together peacefully.

It’s too bad Vash and Knives weren’t present to see them model getting along with different strengths and beliefs (although they must have seen other examples). This is what the twins should have become.

***

Oh look, it’s the dichotomy between Thinking + STEM (modeled by the Captain, emulated by Knives) and Feeling + Social Intelligence (modeled by Rem, followed by Vash). This is one of my least favorite tropes. When I was a kid, I overthought like Knives while wearing my heart on my sleeve like Vash, and if this blog is any indication, not much has changed.

Humans were never going to be sufficient intellectual role models for the plant kids, so I understand why Rem and the Captain focused on their social and emotional development. But they, especially Knives, needed someone to listen to their thoughts and worries and take them seriously. Vash needed someone to model the process of looking for answers, instead of just waiting for someone to tell him what he wanted to hear. Knives needed someone to help him deal with the more disturbing implications of what he learned. The Captain sold himself short here. He could have done a good job with this.

Rem’s style was to talk about feelings and memories, and to talk as little as possible about unpleasant truths, like the reason for the SEEDS mission. She waited to talk to Vash about it until he asked, and even then her answers were incomplete and...oversimplified, to say the least. That worked for her and Vash. Knives, however, seemed to want to understand things for himself. He didn’t just need what he would’ve seen as empty words of reassurance. He needed someone to engage with what he knew.

I think Rem missed his attempts to talk about what was bothering him, because they were couched in factual rather than feeling terms. He talked about the thoughts that made him feel the way he did, not directly about the feelings themselves. For example, when he asked about humans destroying the Earth, he was horrified and seriously wondering what good humans were. The Captain addressed these implications, and realized the conversation did not go well. Rem just shared her beliefs.

Neither of them helped him feel secure or loved. Neither of them helped him deal with his feelings about not being human, his horror that humans had destroyed Earth, and his fears that they might do the same with their new home. I don’t know if either of them knew much of what was on his mind. I think Knives spent a lot of time stewing alone. He already had the angry voice of a future villain, and neither empathetic Rem nor his own twin seemed to notice. For that matter, no one seemed to know that Steve was bullying him, or at least no one was doing anything about it. Does that seem strange to anyone else?

Knives chose to become a genocidal maniac. This is the context in which he made his choices.

Instead of a single person getting split into Thinking and Feeling sides, the siblings were split into a Feeling Twin and a Thinking Twin, to the detriment of both. As they chose different beliefs, role models, and ways of life, they continued farther and farther along these polarized tracks their elders set for them.

Yet, IMO, Rem and the Captain were both right. Rem was right about good and evil, how to hope, and what to live for. The captain was right about how to make decisions in an imperfect world, and the need to accept unpleasant truths.

One thing I appreciate about the anime ending is Vash and Knives have an opportunity come to some sort of compromise, or at least a working balance. I actually like that it’s left to us to imagine how.

***

Hypothesis: In the Myers-Briggs system, Vash = ENFP and Knives = INTJ. What do you think?

#I could easily be wrong with Knives

#intj is the one n type I don’t know much about

#trigun #trigun anime #liveblog #liveblogging #rem saverem #vash the stampede #knives millions #millions knives #tropes #choices #feels #gifted kid problems #gifted problems #philosophy #good and evil #writing techniques

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gaamagirl565 · 5 years ago

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Matters of the heart Ep 5

Matters of the heart Episode 5 Love is blind {OPENING CREDITS} {cut to morning in Old Corona; a rooster crow is heard and pans to Varian working in his lab; in the background we see Isaiah poking his head around the corner} Isaiah: heh..gotta do this right..2 minutes and I’ll come back in… {He starts sneaking over to the door making sure not to alert his father} Ruddiger: *spots him and chitters alarmed* Varian: *turns around* Isaiah! Just what do you think you’re doing? Isaiah: I was just...ya know it’s...kinda stuffy in here sooo.. {Varian gives a dad glare} Isaiah: Okay! Okay! Fine! You caught me… I was trying to go outside… Varian: Isaiah we’ve been over this! Isaiah: I know but- Varian: No! You’re still injured! I mean for pete’s sake you’re still wearing bandages! You can’t just go roughhousing outside like you always do! Isaiah: I’m not gonna do that! I swear! Varian: Ya know I wish I could trust you not to but what you did was reckless enough! I’m not taking any chances! Isaiah: ughh!.... {He looks at Ruddiger} Isaiah: hmph! Tattle tail… Varian: No he’s a good boy… {Isaiah walks over to the window and looks out at the other kids playing} Isaiah: please? Just for a little bit? Varian: *sigh* no Isaiah i’m sorry… Isaiah: but- Quirin: I don’t know what’s going on here but i’d listen to your dad Isaiah… Isaiah: Grandpa! {Isaiah runs over to hug him and Quirin lifts him, tossing him in the air} Quirin: haha! There’s my boy! Now, what’s the trouble? Isaiah: I really wanna play outside but Dad says I can’t. Varian: Not yet Isaiah… you just got over a fever… Quirin: sorry Isaiah, but your Dad is right. Isaiah: What? Varian: What? I mean….yeah… Isaiah: Graaanndpaaa you’re supposed to be on my side!

{Both Varian and Quirin chuckle; yelling is heard outside} Quirin: Now what on earth? {They all go to the door and people are rushing to the main road} Varian: What’s going on? Villager: I don’t know! Apparently, there are a lot of horses coming our way! {Quirin and Varian look at each other} Varian: Isaiah take Ruddiger and go to your room! Lock the door and don’t come out until I say so! {With fear in his eye Isaiah nods grabbing ruddiger and rushing up the stairs; Quirin had his sword at the ready and Varian grabs his alchemy bag; cut to Both making their way through the crowd and to the front where a man stands in front of the crowd} Varian: A...Caravan? Quirin: phew… Stoica: Hello...My name is Stoica… Quirin: And how may I help you, travelers? Joseph: by sending them away if you ask me Varian: *rolls eyes* Seriously, is there anything about you that is likable? Joseph: oh shut it… Quirin: ahem...please let him speak. Stoica: My people have been on the road for a long time. We wish to set up in Corona for a time before moving on. We are willing to pay for food and supplies as well. If you’ll have us. Quirin: hmm...I see no issue with this… Joseph: Eh-wha-Quirin!? Are you kidding!? We don’t know these people! Varian: oh for the love of....Joseph shut up! My father has made the call. Leave them be. Quirin: If you desire there is a field we are currently not using. You may set up camp there. Stoica: You are too kind. Thank you for your hospitality. {He gives the caravan the signal to move when Joseph’s eyes widen} Joseph: Wait! {Everyone stops and Joseph walks over to a wagon and pulls a woman from it} Woman: AH! Stoica: LET HER GO! *unsheaths dagger* Joseph: You see!? This one is wearing a cloak! In the middle of a sunny day! Awful suspicious! And Stoica here dares to pull a knife on me! Quirin: you grabbed a woman from her wagon Joseph! Of course, he’s going to do that! Joseph: That still doesn’t explain the cloak! I bet she’s a criminal...hiding her face. We’ll soon see. Woman: No! I beg you! Stoica: Leave my sister be! You’ll harm her! {Joseph grips the hood} Woman: Please no! Varian: ENOUGH! {Varian runs out and stands between Joseph and the woman} Varian: Are you normally this stupid or is today a special occasion? Joseph: What are you saying, traitor? Varian: If you had taken a minute to look at her you’d know by now! She’s albino! Joseph:..A what? {varian rolls his eyes} Varian: Seriously am I the only one that reads? An albino. A rare skin condition that causes a lack of pigment. That’s skin color, eyes, and hair. The sun can physically hurt them! You take off that cloak and you’ll be causing her great pain. {they stare each other down} Quirin:...Stand down, Joseph… Joseph:...*spits* this town is going to the bloody dogs… {he leaves} Varian: Let me help you m’lady… *he helps her back onto the wagon* Woman: thank you...how may I repay you? Varian: I’d settle for your name {Stoica narrows his eyes} Woman:...Zapada...and I’m sure you’ve met my brother Stoica… Varian: I’m Varian… Zapada: well Mr.Varian...hopefully we meet again. {Stoica signals the caravan to move.} Varian: Yeah...so do I… {cut to later in the Village; Isaiah is looking excitedly at everything} Isaiah: Never thought I’d miss the outdoors so much! Oh, look! The stinky fish merchant! Merchant: Hey! Varian: The queen spent 18 years in a tower you only spent 2 weeks inside! Isaiah: Felt like 18 years… {Varian sees Zapada walking and reading} Varian: *gasp*...hey uh Isaiah...here’s some coins go explore a bit I have...errands to run… Isaiah:...free money and time to myself? I’m gone… {he takes the money and leaves; Varian takes a deep breath and goes to talk to her} Varian:...M’lady..no..uhh..hey ther-NO!...ZA-PA-DA hows it going? That’s stupid… ok Relax...ahem..Hello, my little snow an- {He’s hit in the face by the baker’s door; Zapada jumps and turns around with a yelp} Baker: huh? Oh. Watch it, Varian!... Zapada: *gasps and drops her book running over* Mr.Varian! Are you alright!? What on earth was his problem? You have done nothing to him! Varian: well hows that for an entrance? {They stare at one another for a second before Zapada hands him a cloth} Zapada: y-your nose is bleeding...I...I must go!... Varian: Hey wait! {She runs off} Varian: smooth Varian...Smooth… {Cut to Isaiah walking around the Caravan camp} Isaiah: Wow...this place is amazing...so much cool stuff… {As he’s walking he stops and sees an animal trader feeding his animals} Isaiah: Oh cool! Look at all of these! No way! Is that an alligator from the new world!? Trader: Indeed it is! I’ve gotten many offers on her. Isaiah: WWOOOWW! It’s so big and scaly! Just like in my books! {he walks around looking at all the creatures but stops at a wooden box} Isaiah: Hmm? {he goes to open the box} Trader: Ah! Boy, I wouldn’t-... {A golden cobra with red accents slides out hissing with its folds up} Trader: ah! Okay boy...just back away slowly… Isaiah: A Saporian Jeweled Cobra… Trader: Back away child! Isaiah: why are you so freaked out? Just relax...if you respect the snake...he’ll respect you… {he cautiously puts out a hand; the cobra sniffs it then slithers up his arm and around his shoulders} Isaiah: hehe! Hey! That-haha! That tickles!...you’re not evil, you’re a little noodle…

Trader: *practically shaking* Isaiah:...i have 5 gold pieces will that be enough? Trader: child, as far as I am aware he’s yours… Isaiah: Really!? Thanks! Do you hear that bud? Hmm..what to call you...I know..Draki...my serpent. {he pets his cobra; cut to late at night at Varians house; Varian and Quirin sit at the table drinking tea whilst Isaiah plays with Draki} Quirin: ...is it a good idea to have a cobra as a pet? Varian: *head in hands* is it a good idea to have a raccoon as a pet? Quirin: Fair point. Ruddiger: *chitters angrily* Varian: I’m just kidding bud… Quirin: Something wrong son? Varian: well...you know when you see someone and...you...can’t help but get curious about them? Quirin: mmhmm...are we talking about Stoica’s sister? *smirk* Varian:...there’s something about her...she’s so shy and...almost mysterious...I want to get to know her...have a least one conversation! But anytime we make eye contact she flinches or runs away! Quirin: *sips tea* well… the way I see it..she might be afraid...and I’m sure Joseph didn’t help...and anytime you’ve talked its been in a crowded public place. Varian: Then what am I supposed to do? Quirin: it’s dark now...she’s probably taken off her cloak. She’s probably more comfortable now that people are in their houses for the night...go..talk to her in a setting that’s comfortable for her. {Varian smiles at his dad and hugs him} Varian: Thanks dad… Quirin: you got this..and don’t worry i’ll watch uh..serpent boy here… {pan to Varian walking through the Caravan camp} Varian: her wagon had an emblem on it...of a hawk… {he looks around and spots it} Varian: there… {he walks up taking a deep breath and knocks on the door; after a few seconds Zapada answers and gasps; the moonlight shines off her white hair and she is in full view without her cloak} Zapada: M-Mr.Varian what are you…? Varian: I know it’s late and I’m sorry for this afternoon but I was wondering since the sun is down maybe you’d like to go on a stroll? Zapada:...me? Wit...with you? Alone? Varian: y-you’re not afraid are you? Zapada: well I… Varian: you don’t have to be afraid...not of me...I promise… {he takes her hand; she’s hesitant at first but nods and grabs her shawl before leaving; cut to later they’re walking in the orchard laughing} Zapada: so...you made a machine that almost literally blew away the entire expo? Varian: yeah not exactly the best idea in the world...so tell me about you… what’s your story? Zapada: well… Varian: well? Zapada: I was born into the Caravan...after our father Patrin died my brother Stoica took over. You know what people think of us...and with my...condition it doesn’t help...some see me as a curse...sometimes I think they’re right.. Varian: what? Zapada: My brother works so hard to protect me… I feel like a burden sometimes...my Caravan cares so deeply for me but...I don’t feel as if..I deserve it… Varian: But you’re so kind. And generous, and beautiful an- Zapada: what? Varian: You’re beautiful {Begin song “give yourself a chance”} {varian} You say people hate then so be it You say you’re not beautiful well I don’t see it People might judge at first glance But who cares what they think Give yourself a chance. How do I describe you to make you see All the things you do to me Your hair, your eyes, make my heart want to sing and dance It has me wondering… Is this romance? Even when the world looks down on you Look back at them with your eyes of rosey hue Stand up to them and tell them that despite your flaws You are perfect and no one can say anything because You made the choice to give Yourself a chance {end song} {Zapada cups his face with her hand and embraces him; Varian returns the embrace; they walk off into the orchard together; Later it shows them lying by a tree with the sun beginning to rise} Varian: Hey...Zapada? Zapada: hmm? Varian: I know the sunlight hurts your eyes...but have you ever watched the sunrise before? Zapada: I cannot say I’ve had the pleasure… {Varian takes off his goggles} Varian: put these on and look to the east… {Zapada puts them on and looks; she gasps and stares in wonder} Zapada: Varian...it is beautiful… Varian: yeah...the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen… {she looks back at him and smiles} Zapada: thank you, Varian… {Cut to the HQ of the cult; Cassandra is tied up with vines and screaming as magic surges through her} Cult leader: soon...the power will be coursing through her veins and take hold of her conscious. She’ll be strong enough to plan our next move after all these years… Noremoth: several if I’m not mistaken m’lady...but must the process of infusion be so..eck..hostile? {The cult leader glares at him} Noremoth: I’m only saying Zhan tiri’s power can only hold her so long before her true conscious breaks through every now and again. She is only a vessel we cannot completely erase...her true self. Cult leader: that maybe, however...that alchemist has something we need that will complete her transformation. When they destroyed the moonstone a singular shard was left. And it was placed in this alchemist’s care. Noremoth: so? Cult leader: ugh so naive...If we get the stone shard the infusion will be stabilized and Zhan tiri will become anew in a new body. And with the device that we are building combined with our sweet vessel’s power, all of the seven kingdoms will kneel before us. Noremoth: ooohhh I like that plan m’lady… Cult leader: of course you do Noremoth… Noremoth: so then what is our next move? Cult leader: simple… {she takes out a newspaper page from Corona; it has a picture of Isaiah and reads “Boy destroys marketplace} Cult leader: ..Ransom.. {She crushes the paper} {END CREDITS}

#Tangled #rapunzel’s tangled adventure #Varian #Isaiah #Quirin #tts #rta #tangled the series #MotH

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