#I’m genuinely not gonna make it to Thursday guys I need this season NOW

[angxliquel]

after the promo vid with Kiersten I can safely say that we’re all cooked

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know �� what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

[streetlight11]

Nets and Bandaids | pt 3 (final)

Summary: They were the strongest members in their respective teams and everyone looked up to them. Except, they could never seem to get along. One day when an incident happened during the seasonal championship, that changed everything between them.

Theme: University au, volleyball players au, enemies to lovers

Genre: fluff

WC: 2.6k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Reader

~~~

Part 1 || Part 2

The next day came and it was a Thursday morning. Y/N entered her morning class in which she happened to share with Seungmin. She took a seat beside him and had just taken out her laptop when both her phone and his, dinged at the same time. It was their group chat.

Just as she was about to reply in the group chat, she received a text from Minho privately. She opened his chat only to see him ask if she was going to the said party. With that being said, she texted him a response.

And then 5 seconds later, the group chat started sounding again.

With that, you couldn’t help but smile as you closed the chat when your lecturer walked in.

That weekend came in a flash as Chan, Changbin, Jisung, Mina and Yeri had met up earlier in the day to prepare the pool party at Chan’s family home. Mina and Jisung went to buy a lot of buffet cuisines while Yeri went to get snacks with Changbin.

Chan tidied the house and prepared some games they could play in the pool and also in the house such as water volleyball, board games, card games etc.

The rest of them either came on their own or together in a bunch. Y/N needed to run errands before heading off to Chan’s house so she was alone. When she arrived at the house, 12 out of 15 people were already there excluding herself. Those who still have yet to arrive were Jihyo, Hyunjin and Minho.

Y/N was still in her sweatpants and crop top as she stood by the snacks counter only to grab herself the big bottle of green tea and a plastic cup. However, she realized there were no ice cubes so she turned around just in time for Chan to top up the chips right beside her.

“Chan ah, do you have ice?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. They’re in the freezer. The kitchen is down the hall to the left.” He said, pointing towards the right side of the house where there was a hallway.

She thanked him, proceeding to excuse herself. She entered his beautiful house, mindlessly admiring the interior of his family home only to make it in the big kitchen. She went over to the fridge only to open the freezer.

She was just letting the ice cubes plop into the cup when she flinched upon hearing a familiar voice coming from behind the freezer door.

“Hoarding the ice?” A soft chuckle accompanied his speech as she peeked past the door, only to see Minho walking closer to her with a very soft smile on his face.

“Was planning to until you mentioned it. Want some?” She asked, seeing him nod while stretching his hand out where he was holding a cup of lemon tea in his hand. After they were done, she was about to go back to join the others when Minho grabbed a hold of her wrist gently.

“How’s your lower abdomen? Does it still hurt?” He asked genuinely concerned.

“Occasionally it still does but it’s not a terrible pain.”

Minho slowly nodded as the room fell silent, both suddenly shy from the small little cuddle they had that night in the bus. Ever since that day, neither of them really acknowledged it properly even though the rest of them already knew about it since the 5 kids couldn’t keep their mouth shut. 

But even so, both of them weren’t bothered by the fact that their friends saw it. They just didn't know how to acknowledge the situation to each other. With that being said, he decided to break the ice first.

“We should probably head back before those minions start to have weird ass thoughts.” 

“Yeah, we really should…” She said with a light giggle. They both made their way back to the backyard. Jihyo, Mina, Jisoo and Jennie unfortunately couldn’t join them in the pool due to their monthly mother nature calls. Yeri, Lisa and Chungha were already in the pool along with the rest of the guys while Y/N was still seated with the rest of the girls.

“Y/N! Are you on your red light?” Yeri asked with a small pout. The others were now focused on her.

“Umm, n-no?”

“Then what are you doing there? Come here with us!”

Mina beckoned from the other side of the pool as Y/N told her she would join them in a minute. Just then, before she could resume talking to the rest of the girls, she saw Changbin quickly get out of the pool only for Y/N to start running away.

“Seo Changbin! Wait! Let me change at least for God's sake!” Y/N yelled, desperately running around the pool. Changbin however was a tad bit faster as he wrapped his arms around her waist, making her all wet. A shriek left her lips when he lifted her bridal style and soon walked towards the pool.

“Bin ah! Bin ah, wait! Put me down!” She screamed, slapping his chest repeatedly only for the boy to smirk as he stuck his tongue out at her.

“Too late.”

With that, he plunged into the pool with her in his arms, soaking her from head to toe. They resurfaced to gasp for air as she pushed her hair out of her face. She splashed a good amount of water on him in annoyance.

“Seo Changbin! I’m gonna kill you!”

“Hey, I got you in here, noona.”

“I didn’t bring any extra clothes with me, you idiot!”

That’s when his face fell when he realised he fucked up, only for him to apologize as she sighed, knowing she could never be mad at them for too long.

“Oh shit, noona I’m so sorry…” Changbin apologized. She shook her head and told him it was fine before she left the pool.

Minho was silently watching her walk to her bag. She quietly took out her towel and wrapped it around her lower body before she asked Chan where his bathroom was. She took off her sweatpants and squeezed it to get rid of the excess water before hanging it over one of the chairs.

About 15 minutes later, she came back out with a two piece swimsuit and a white see through shirt over it to cover her body since she wasn’t really comfortable with showing her skin openly and a pair of thin shorts.

She hung her wet shirt and towel on the chair before walking over to the pool while tying her hair in a low bun.

“Y/N! Whose team do you wanna join?” Jisung asked as she stared at both sides of the pool.

“Are you guys in your teams already?”

“Not yet but Changbin and Lisa are the captains.” Jisung giggled, making her turn to Lisa with a smile.

“Lalisa? Captain? Wow. I’m impressed.” Y/N teased, earning a laugh from Lisa.

“You can be the captain if you want.” Lisa said, only for Y/N to shake her head.

“No thanks, I’d love to take a break for once.” Y/N said.

Just then, she glanced over only to lock eyes with Minho who was leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool from where she was standing. He had his arms resting on the edge of the pool as he gave her a soft smile, which made her heart pound against her chest. 

This feeling was still foreign to her because she would definitely not feel this way if it was a few months back.

“So, have you made up your mind or should we drag you to one side?” Hyunjin asked with a smirk while Changbin spoke up.

“Well, if that’s the case, I’m taking noona and Minho hyung first.” A smirk appeared on his face as Jisung grabbed Y/N’s hands who was just squatting down on the edge of the pool, dragging her in.

Once she was standing up straight, she couldn’t help but slap Jisung’s chest out of annoyance.

“Can you people stop pulling me in like that? Geez.” She scoffed as she swam past him to go towards the middle while  they started to divide into two teams of 6. Lisa, Mina, Yeri, Jeongin, Chan and Seungmin on one side and Changbin, Minho, Jisung, Hyunjin, Felix and Y/N on the other side.

The game started with them trying their best to move around but the water was making it impossible for them. Y/N’s team was leading with 5 points.

Minho passed the ball to Hyunjin who then passed it behind him where Y/N was and with one swift motion, she launched herself in the air only to dump the ball on their side, earning a solid win.

Her team cheered as Hyunjin and Jisung attacked her with hugs, causing her to submerge underwater. They resurfaced only for Changbin to dive under and soon slot his head in between her legs before he stood up, lifting her on his shoulders. 

A scream escaped her lips as she desperately cling onto Changbin’s hands that were on her thighs.

“Seo Changbin! Put me down!” She screamed. She watched as he tilted his head up with a playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Not yet.” Changbin said.

With that being said, he began to walk around the pool with her on his shoulder before he suggested a game of wrestling.

“Changbin ah, I’m scared…” Y/N whined as he reassured her saying that she’ll be fine and that he won’t make her injured. The game soon started with Yeri on Chan’s shoulder.

“Unnie… I’m sorry.” Yeri said in between laughs as she began to violently push Y/N off Changbin’s shoulders.

“Kim Yerim!” Y/N squeaked when the younger girl pushed her. In less than 5 minutes, Y/N was down. For what she thought would be a harsh impact, a strong pair of arms wrapped itself around her waist as she crashed into someone’s chest. Because of this, her head didn’t get submerged in the water.

Changbin turned around after Yeri’s team was cheering excitedly for winning, only for Changbin to ask.

“Noona, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Y/N giggled while Changbin and the other guys got ready for another round of competition. However, she realized that the arms around her waist were still there so she carefully turned her head only to be met with Minho’s.

They got quiet for a bit as he couldn’t help but glance down at her lips. Just then, Minho whispered teasingly to avoid the others from hearing.

“Should we give them something to talk about?” A smirk danced on his lips. She glanced back to see them still focused on the game. With that being said, she turned back to Minho with a giggle.

He was already leaning against the wall as she pressed her body against his in the water for support before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She gently leaned forward to let her lips brush his own before she whispered.

“Are you sure that’s all you want?” Her eyes travelled back to his only for him to shake his head.

“Definitely not.” He said with a smile tugged on his lips. Soon enough, he gently pressed his lips on hers, earning a soft gasp. His hands tightened around her waist as she tangled her fingers in his damp hair, only to hear the rest of them get excited in the back.

“Oh God bless! Fucking finally!” Changbin yelled in excitement while the rest yelled happily.

She couldn’t help but pull away from Minho, hiding her face in his neck while he smiled proudly to his friends.

“Just how long had y’all been waiting for this?” Minho asked curiously as some of them responded in unison.

“Ever since the beginning of your fights!” 

With that, Y/N whipped her head around only to raise her eyebrows at them. She couldn’t believe what she heard. They shrugged, saying they could tell that this day would come sooner or later. Just then, she turned back to Minho, making him steal a quick kiss. This was enough to make her blush.

“Yeah, I started liking you a few months back to be honest. I just didn’t know why at that time so I just continued sort of ‘hating’ you…” He suddenly confessed, making her flustered.

“Oh wow. And you still continued to act like a total jerk? Smooth move Captain.” She teased as he chuckled, sliding his hands up her sides underneath her shirt underwater only to stop just below her swimsuit line.

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit brave now?” She asked. He smirked smugly, feeling him snake his arms around her frame. He kissed her jaw as the noises behind them from their friends busy playing games seemed to be muffled in their ears.

“You can tell me to stop if this weirds you out. I don’t mind.” His voice low in her ear as he kissed the skin beneath her earlobe.

“I’d tell you to keep going but our friends are here.” With that, he pulled away from her neck only to cup her face in one hand before he spoke up.

“Then come over to my place later and we can spend the night all to ourselves.” He whispered as he brushed his lips against hers. “What made you like me?” She suddenly asked, seeing him stare at her with such a soft look.

“I respect the way you lead your teammates. You’re such a good volleyball player and to be honest, I really look up to you.” His voice was laced with nothing but honesty.

“Wait… Really?” She asked, slightly confused.

“Yeah. I know I might seem like I always think I’m better than everyone else. But I actually get really scared that people might compare me to you so I hated it. And I guess I made a mistake of hating you for it. I’m sorry.” He apologized.

With that, she smiled as she cupped both sides of his face before he locked eyes with her very soft gentle ones.

“We’re all human and we have every right to feel however we want to. So I don’t blame you for feeling like that towards me.” She reassured him by kissing him again, only for him to deepen the kiss. He pulled her against him, softly caressing her wet skin making her pull away with a giggle.

“We should probably join them cause I can foresee that they won’t let us live after today.” She said. Minho could only nod in response knowing that was true.

As expected, their friends didn’t have an end to teasing their team captains as they literally teased them almost every 5 seconds. After the pool party, Y/N ended up going over to Minho’s apartment to hang out with him in which they eventually ended up cuddling in each other’s arms in which she fell asleep at his place.

A few days later, Y/N and Seungmin were running late yet again for their volleyball training as she texted in the group chat again for them to tell the coach. But the response she got was slightly unexpected.

They got through training without a single fight between Minho and Y/N, which definitely shocked their coach but Jisung was witty with his reply.

“Let’s just say, the championship changed them Coach.”

With that being said, Coach Kwon simply smiled as he asked them to gather around so that he could give them some new tips and pointers. Ever since then, the two Team Captains had stopped whatever fights they always had during training and Minho even changed the way he supervised his teammates.

[vaguely-concerned]

X-men Evolution; the great 2021 rewatch liveblog

exactly what it says on the tin, about halfway through the show I had TOO MANY FEELINGS and had to start writing some of them out haha (gets quite gambit & rogue/gambit heavy in the latter half, Because of Who I Am as a Person)

- this is my childhood’s x-men, my formative experience with them, and I’m happy to report that still seems like a good thing. the little eleven year old within me gets to geek out and have a good time with the characters and the surprisingly good animation and writing, adult me gets to CACKLE at regular intervals at the fashion/technology/absolute bonkers hot garbage comic book nonsense they use to justify a storyline every now and then, it’s been a good time 

- I was like ‘ah well it is super dated it probably won’t be quite the same now’ and then rogue’s HAIR did the THING in the opening and ‘it’s all coming back to me now’ started playing in the background... the little baby queer in me swooning across time and space

- such a good beast, both his design and the writing, my heart aches for him all the time. he’s just so passionate! about being a teacher! helping young humans learn the stuff they’ll need in life! the most wonderful nerd man, just let good things happen for him

- I’m going to go ahead and assume that rogue’s ‘crush’ on scott is more of a deeply complex psychological process about desiring normalcy and intimacy and trying to figure out if she’s queer and dealing with her emerging sexuality and latching on to the first and best safely unavailable and nonthreatening older boy to project these issues onto rather than actually being a real thing, because I respect her so much as a person and I cannot bring myself to imagine she’s honestly attracted to a man who has POSTERS OF CARS on his bedroom wall. (I’ll give jean a break just because she seems to have a longer deeper history with him that might counteract some of that libido-kill, and also she’s a jock so lol)

like I am very sorry but can u imagine being a teenage girl with any interest in a boy with model cars in his bedroom when gambit’s swanning around being a much, much, much worse choice on almost every possible level but in a teen girl kryptonite kind of way? inconceivable  

(I drag scott quite a few times in this and it’s not because I don’t love him, it’s just his tragedy to be the most draggable man in the world)

to be fair by the time gambit shows up that whole Situation has mostly played itself out I suppose but still  

- toad’s design is so ineffably brilliant, I can’t quite tell you why but that ugly cute charm has really stuck with me, he’s one of the characters I remembered the best to this day just visually

- poor evan... he truly never had a chance, did he, they just saddled him with the most 90s teen bullshit they could come up with like he’s some kind of ‘what adult writers think teens like’ frankenstein’s monster ;______; it’s not your fault honey

- poor poor POOR storm, she gets one focus episode and they were like ‘we’re going to make an episode so racist -- ‘

I’m still STUNNED at how bad it was, but undeniably I laughed hysterically to the point that my neighbours were probably worried when that dude was earnestly like ‘He [stunningly breathlessly racist caricature of a ‘witch doctor’ guy] has stolen her powers, and he’s going to use them to take over Africa!!!’ fhajsdlfhsakjldfh oh really? tell me more, like how the fUCK this could be on television within my life time fasdlfhsdkjfhsad f  just... fahjksdfh

- it’s a testament to gambit’s appeal as a character that his charm can survive what they’ve done with his hair and beard choices in this one fajskfhs regrettable but true I still fuckn LOVE him and in my highly biased yet Correct opinion he should have been around much more. get you a man who manages to stay hot through sheer Vibes even with a bowl cut

- aw scott/jean is kind of sweet in this show even if it’s taking them forEVER to get there, I like it 

- it’s very nice of rogue to not mention magneto’s romantic daydreams and nostalgic memories about charles xavier after touching his face that one time... or maybe her brain did her a service and repressed it, there’s some stuff you shouldn’t have to know about your father figure   

- the danger room is the very definition of ‘why do we even have that lever’ and I wonder what the fuck prof x does to have enough money to replace everything that gets busted all the time

- I’d say that a lot of the writing holds up surprisingly well! (but some of it is also incredibly inexcusably racist in ways that beggar belief, so... not full marks here) the characters have distinct voices and their arcs are set up and delivered on solidly for the most part, and there’s a lot of love showing through in small moments that are just there to have a funny/interesting thing to say about the characters and how their powers work separately and in combination. listen, sometimes I get so thirsty for like. basic goddamn competency in storytelling, let me have this

- ugggggh why is there captain america in my x-men have I not suffered enough... very very funny when prof x goes ‘sounds like you knew rogers personally’ and logan is like ‘I did ;)’ *all the students ganging up on steve rogers* “did you fuck our teacher, captain america?!”

- fskadfhas WHY are you showing me hot young-ified magneto’s ass fksjahfskj charles is not even here to see it, what a tragic waste erik 

- ...I was sort of kidding before but uh I think logan genuinely did fuck captain america (or at least wishes very much that he did lol)

- wanda can have a little watching the world burn. as a treat for the way every single adult in her life has fucking failed her (’aren’t they treating you well here�� professor x she’s in a straightjacket)  

- poor rogue tho can you imagine finding out after your biggest crush on a girl yet that she’s your fucking MOM in disguise... I would break out in cold sweat every time I thought about a boob forever after

- well seems like they really just had all that homoerotic rivalry stuff between quicksilver and spyke in their first ep only to never do anything with that again ever?? I mean even without the gay undertone that seems like a dynamic you spent most of an episode setting up writers what the hell haha

- dslhfkasjlh GAMBIT THERE HE IS MY BOY IS ON THE SCENE THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! I don’t even care about his awful hair situation or the fact that his eyes are wrong here (coloured contact lenses, maybe, for a watsonian explanation? though he’d probably have to get them made special, considering he needs the sclera and the iris covered up in different ways, I’ve seen some comic panels indicating he has been known to?)

(cute little detail: when he shuffles the cards the first time we see him he ends with removing the top card to show the ace of hearts beneath <3 foreshadowing baBEY he’s a... good-ish boy deep down. hey he tries okay shit gets complicated sometimes lol) 

- cracking UP at gambit perched cheerily on the edge of a crate dispensing cards in the middle of the battle... he’s like ‘eh it’s a livin’ sfsajkhf remy stop working for supervillains just because you had nothing to do on a thursday afternoon and they said they’d pay you

- I’m guessing magneto must have imposed a strict order of silence on these guys or something because I cannot imagine any other reason for him to shut up, especially once he notices rogue is a QTE (or, far more likely, they hadn’t settled on any voice actors for the new characters until next season haha. it is kind of odd that they’re all keeping up near monastic silence, though, even sabertooth lol) 

- WHAT an epic first meeting for us rogue/gambit fans here... first his shadow like there’s fireworks going off behind him lighting him up and then he gives her the fuckn king of hearts and she’s so enchanted by his dumb handsome face she doesn’t even notice it’s about to blow up in her hands and it all happens in heavily meaningful silence afjsdfjashjk no wonder this ship ingrained itself in my hindbrain  

yeah look smug while you can remy she’s gonna have you on your knees one day and you’ll be happy about it lol

- god storm is so COOL, everything just fading out of focus when she really gets going... give her more screen time, show!!

- mystique is every person... this person... that person... that bird... that cat... that wolf... I’m not even sure she’s not also me... are you sure she’s not you? 

- holy fuck I respect the hell out of the decision to just... blow up the entire status quo in a season ender, I only vaguely remembered that (actually in general I appreciate how good the continuity is -- buildings and places that get damaged in battles need to be repaired or rebuilt, it makes the consequences feel more real even when no one gets seriously hurt. where they get the money to restore scott’s car and logan’s motorbikes every time they go cablooie is still an open question tho lol is it credit card fraud, professor? is it telepathically acquired blackmail???) 

- I first watched this when I was nine or so, so it’s a real experience to go from my starry eyed intrigued ‘oh my god... they’re teenagers’ to my horrified adult perspective of ‘oh my god... they’re TEENAGERS D:’

that goes double for the brotherhood boys honestly, I’m here with tears in my eyes like ‘I’m sorry the system has failed you so badly you’re all just a bunch of dumb kids whose caretakers clearly fucked up spectacularly’  

like lance is always waiting for mystique to come back because she’s the closest thing he has to a safe parental figure, may we speak about how crushingly depressing that is 

- rogue is so ready to throw hands at literally any moment and for that I love and treasure her immensely (I think getting to see her be so surly and unreasonable and sometimes difficult and jealous, like any teenager, meant a lot to me as a kid who was not really allowed to be any of these things, this version of the character has stayed with me so deeply. she holds on so fiercely to her right to feel what she feels and be what she is even when it’s ‘ugly’ or unreasonable, which I think plays in really interestingly with how her powers involve getting invaded by other people’s thoughts and memories to the point of overwhelming her own sense of self and the fact that she clearly has a lot of self-loathing and self-consciousness and confusion about her identity as well. I love her so much)  

- oooof this is the ‘the gang experience a microaggression’ episode huh (well more like macroagressions really)

hits a bit different with adult eyes and perspective huh

- hearing jean sound almost like a child when she says ‘that’s so unfair!’ somehow has me like ;______; -- she has to be so adult and responsible all the time, and having her be reduced to the kid she still is and should get to be in front of this awful awful man she could squash like a bug with the flick of a thought... ugh I’m Big Sad (it is funny that jean seemingly plays Every Sport tho djfhaskj)

- MY BOY IS BACK!!! this time with the duster coat and his eyes the right colour, im so happy (too bad about the subdued colour scheme tho; I adore his dumb bright pink getup with my whole heart)

it’s kind of adorable that he takes the time to take the bullies aside and go ‘I know these guys can’t wreck you without getting expelled, but I think you’ll find no law set down by god or man would stop me from doing so whenever I wanted to. so piss off and leave them alone’ lol he’s looking out for them, in his own way

- in this episode: remy lebeau wrangles some kids while looking bored yet mildly amused the whole time. what the fuck does magneto have on you for you to agree to this level of babysitting duty buddy

- fun detail I noticed b/c when I get a fave I hyperfixate: he gave rogue the king of hearts before, but he ‘introduces’ himself to the brotherhood here (lol) with the jack of hearts, probably to symbolize he’s here as someone who works for magneto in this setting and not as his own man? it’s a demotion he’s given himself there, anyway, might be he’s not very pleased about his current position huh 

- I like it when rogue and kitty team up, they’re not very effective together but their squabbling is so cute and non-aggressive 

- pietro is what draco malfoy would be if I ever found malfoy interesting to watch for even one moment, every time quicksilver talks I’m like ‘what wonderfully insufferable thing is going to come out of your mouth this time you little shit :’)’

- a) why are scott and logan shirtless for this scene? I am not complaining on the logan side of things at least but why and b) I laughed so hard I almost fell off my couch when scott asked logan if he’d ever been in love and he was like ‘once. she was the most beautiful bike I ever saw’ falsdfhaskjfhsakjlfhasklhjfd THE BEST VERSION OF WOLVERINE EVER, ACCEPT NO SUBSTITUTES 

- mystique’s sheer dedication to being a petty bitch is kind of inspirational tbh, almost makes me want to go on a completely bonkers and extra crusade of personal revenge myself  

- oooh they’re doing some genuinely cool things with vision/lack of vision in this one (it’s the scott left on his own in the desert without glasses one btw) even visually, dang! I’m so sad this show didn’t get more seasons than it did, honestly, it deserved it

- hell yeah jean wreck her, go get your man with the suspiciously specific clothing damage normally done to female characters 

awww :’) okay yeah they’re super sweet, I love the tiny loving animation details like how he leans his head against her and her stroking his hair away from his eyes

- nooo don’t bully evan leave my t0tally r4dical sk8er boy alone :(

- I love the running joke of people fleeing in blind panic only to reveal that what they’re running from is kitty’s cheerful well meaning little face fskfaskh 

- scott and jean are already peak married after officially being together for one episode and it’s adorable, and they just stone cold threw logan under the bus, rip wolverine we hardly knew ya

fjasdlfasldfhslajdkfhsadkjlfhsdkjalfhsdakfh h jean establishing herself as the alphabitch of this relationship by throwing her man to the wolves right after dsjfhaskjfhaskjhfsakjdhfaskjhfaskdhfskjahfskdajhf get smarter or get volunteered scott 

- ...eyepatch lady is so hot ngl

oh evan went to the place hank used to go to calm down ;________; (honestly he’s kind of won a place in my heart just by being a pretty normal teenage boy haha)

- jesus fucking CHRIST can you imagine being storm having to look her sister in the eye as she tells her ‘I lost your only child, he’s *vague gesture* somewhere in the sewers we think’ this poor woman

- amanda the self admitted monster fucker you are so VALID (I love her and her family’s design so much tho!)

- it’s so cool that even in his human ‘disguise’ kurt’s fingers follow the shape of his actual hand beneath it rather than moving like a five fingered hand, it’s such a lovingly consistent little detail 

- magneto and mystique in a breathless race to see who can be the shittiest parent... tune in next week for yet another parental nadir (also some low-poly gambit appearances in this one, for those at home keeping score (me), he’s in the background looking like someone drew him with their eyes closed fakjldfhasd look how they massacred my boy)

- someone please teach the brotherhood boys about consent huh

- jean ‘soccer mom before her time’ grey and her SUV dfhakjlhds :’)

- im sobbing rogue baby girl i’m so sorryyyyyy, this voice actress is so good, my parental instincts suddenly kicked into overdrive hearing the crack in her voice :( (bb me was right tho rogue centric episodes ARE the best episodes. that tension between ‘do I identify witn this character or am I crushing on her?? both???’ now has the fun new addition of ‘oh god oh no you are a baby I want to shield you with my body from everything trying to hurt you’)

- mystique is like ‘so you see despite you telling me you never wanted to see me again I completely disrespected that and posed as a friend your age, manipulated you by offering you the mirage of direly needed emotional intimacy and belonging and added some sprinkles of homoerotic tension to it just to massively worsen your already existing grievous psychosexual trauma and identity issues... out of love’

god go jump in a black hole you fucking monster 

- there’s some very interesting and quite subtle subtext about the people she’s morphing into and what that says about her mental state/how it shows off some of her emotional baggage with the rest of the team. it’s like she’s switching between people/powers that fit the purpose as if she’s going through cycles of fight/flight (and then bursts of freeze where she’s herself, which is... so sad)

- this whole episode is hurting my heart but rogue at full power is undeniably epic  

 - ‘professor x get your goddamn act together and get this poor girl some fucking tHERAPY’ challenge

- SAFE PAPA LOGAN ;_____;

- EYYYYYY opening straight on My Lad, I cannot stop winning!!!!! 

fasdfhsad disintegrating the window with a smiley face... remy I do love you more than my heart can bear honestly, hello may we speak about the fact that his urge to be a little shit is so deep and strong it survives mind control (that little breathed out ‘hiah!’ as he vaults the fence too dsakfjsd)

hahaha and he does up the coat fhsalfdsaj 

- magneto dismissing other telepaths like ‘puh-lease, your Meaningful Looks have got nothing on my ex-husband’s’ 

- :’) rogue and kurt sibling timeees

- say what you want but this pyro guy’s got job satisfaction in being a creepy arsonist with a weird recurring horse theme (well at least twice but still weird)

- I love how beast is the kindest man to ever walk the earth but also straight up savage, this man drags people so hard their ancestors wince in their graves

- gambit taking the time to complete the guard’s game of solitaire -- this episode is giving me everything I want. u little disgrace mr lebeau

and THEN he takes the spider out in the most hilariously bonkers way my heart is so FULL

(I love that when magneto moves by he looks startled and has to quickly move his head out of the way to avoid getting kicked in the temple too that’s a fun detail)

I’m so INTO how this sequence shows off that his greatest strength isn’t even his powers (which are pretty straightforward, really, he makes go boom, longer time and bigger thing bigger boom) but that he’s clever and creative and always extremely ready to be the most harebrained-bananapants-extra-in-a-deceptively-laidback-sort-of-way person in the room (I actually have some genuinely Deep Thoughts about how his whole character does a really interesting thing with having the straightforwardly destructive nature of his powers yield to what his nature as a person is, and how using the playing cards play (heh) into it, maybe I’ll write it out some day. just the fact that he could use anything, but he deliberately chose something that adds style and playfulness and corny charm to it and that also limits the damage of the explosions compared to if he habitually used something with more mass... I find it fascinating how much he’s made a story around himself with it and how deeply it shows he does have a good heart, at the end of the day, in almost a metatextual way. he doesn’t want to destroy things or people, he’s at worst (and best lol) a thief.)

- I honestly have literally no memory of white nick fury (which seems so weird now isn’t it funny) in this series from when I was a kid, he clearly did not make an impression on me lol

- mr wolverine ‘assigned canadian at birth’ x-men 

- oh man I dig the androgynity of x-23′s outfit (even tho they had to compensate with the long hair, which... kind of doesn’t make sense in-universe but does on a design level because it’s a crucial thing that she’s a female clone of logan so yeah okay fine whatever have your arbitrary gender markers if you must haha)

ooooooh that’s actually really clever, they make her gender gradually more obvious as she unravels through the episode and her outfit changes -- first the mask coming off, and then her jacket opening to show her silhouette more clearly, that’s cool!  

- my god what really sets this show apart is how much it invests in little character and relationship moments, it’s just so fucking GOOD! it gives laura looking in on those moments such depth and weight because it’s new to her but established to us as an audience, this is how you make found family devastating people (storm growing bonsai trees is so charming too haha) 

- ooof this is honestly quite harrowing 

SHE’S SO SMALL COMPARED TO HIM I’M CRYING (at least that part of his genes translated over faslkfsjdh short king, I say this with all the love and support of a fellow short monarch)  

- tabitha seems to just be running around doing precisely whatever the fuck she wants and you know what I support her even if she is an asshole her father left her a bunch of trauma and no fucks left to give 

- still thrilled about professor x explaining the spider key fuckup to magneto after the fact like ‘magnus you dumb bitch this is why we split up’ 

- awww kitty has anime and movie posters on her wall and sleeps with a stuffed toy :’)

-          remy                           rogue

                              🤝

doing completely unnecessary parkour around the brotherhood living room seemingly just for the hell of it... I’m not saying soulmates but fucking soulmates 

- fhsadkjlfhsakjldfhsadjkfhsdajkfh just as gambit’s soul-level need to be a little shit survived his bout of mind control, rogue’s deep and urgent desire to kiss gambit full on the mouth survived hers I can’t breathe

she looks so pleased with herself too GOOD FOR YOU GIRL at least get something out of this other than more trauma 

also not only the fact that he’s smart enough to figure out what’s going on (though he’s only partially right about who’s behind it. I do so enjoy gambit/mystique deep and sincere antipathy as a constant across all universes tho lmao pure wlw/mlm hostility) but also that he keeps fending her off like he’s not trying to hurt her even though she’s in nigh on unstoppable and invulnerable terminator mode... awww 

- gambit having absolutely no patience for wolverine and sabertooth’s bullshit macho-off and consistently being this little biker trio’s one brain cell is adding years to my life with every passing moment

his voice is a little different in these scenes too, a bit softer and less like he’s trying to impress someone, it’s nice

- hank: well I barely recognize any of these (completely made up) ‘ancient egyptian hieroglyphs’ but from what I can make out -- *proceeds to infodump a perfect coherent narrative* fjdhfak  

listen this whole thing is such nonsense on so many levels, I’m just turning my brain off so I won’t have to think about it okay, the compulsion to put ancient aliens in egypt haunts us as a culture 

- I am CACKLING about gambit in the snow after having to listen to these two chucklefucks ooze testosterone at each other for hours

he started out taking it in good cheer and is now reduced to ‘dieu would both of you just jump off this fUCKING mountain please’

- ah. a little oops-a-daisy there, we seem to have unleashed the apocalypse. please stand by (they really don’t pull their punches with the season cliffhangers in this show haha)

- opening the season on gambit’s merrily grinning face is the easiest way to gain my favour. yes good this season may commence 

baby u r my

 ANGELLLLLLLL

(he’s so cute here tho haha I think it shows the design isn’t unsalvagable, just get him better hair and stubble more like logan has and you’ve basically got it) 

love his exasperated eyeroll when the dude gets spooked (by his eyes? or just the general weirdness?) too

he’s just trying to keep this crazy family of evil mutants together and unmurdered by one another until they’ve managed to avert the end of the world, bless him  

- oh NO rogue’s LIP wobbles my hhhhhheart ;____; such a good animation detail to put in

- like... I know kurt is just a sad scared teenager with a lot of shit going on and all the adults are too busy averting the end of the world to help him... but buddy maybe don’t ask your sister to wake her abuser (who forced her to kickstart the end of the world!!!!!) when she feels utterly unsafe even with her statue version around huh

- ...wanda is good and I want only good things for her. and for her dad to be disemboweled for what he did to her both the first time around and when he forced her to forget I mean what 

- magneto throwing an epic satelite-slinging tantrum b/c ‘no I am the biggest sexiest strongest mutant of the pack :(’... erik fucking get over yourself 

- yes boys absolutely go along with a plan suggested by a dude who looks at you like this 

nothing bad can come of this surely asdfkhsa

- lance’s quarter of a braincell always trying to go ‘hey wait, maybe... not do this???’ and it never helps lol

- in this episode: Logan Has A Bad Day 

...some very specific bondage positions he’s held in here, I am sure this episode awakened something in someone once upon a time lol 

- logan shielding x-23 with his body... im fine it’s okay I’m not crying don’t look at me

- afsdhlsdfjasdlk those sure are some ‘scottish’ accents flsadkjhkdsjahfsd

- scott relieved to finally be able to cede the position of ‘charles xavier’s least favourite son’ to someone else fjsaklfhsajd (poor scott it’s not your fault honey)

supremely cowardly to suggest there is an ex-wife involved rather than charles slutting his way around the british isles back in the day but okay

- kurt with a cold is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. it’s okay kid it’ll get better soon

- ...is there an implication here that professor x is naturally blond. because I am losing my entire little mind about it (i mean he at least has to carry the gene, as does this lady?)

ETA: upon doing some research into this I can indeed confirm that charles xavier does seem to be naturally blond, and after this knowledge I will never be the same 

- “listen, dracula” fskdafghasd oh scott you sweet baby angel I love you

- I know jean’s abilities are a bit ‘as strong or as weak as the plot needs right now’ at this point (so you can have the setup for what’s going to happen with them eventually and she’s basically invincible ;____;), and normally I’m cool with it but god I want her to just squash lucas like a little bug

- ewwwww please don’t ever say ‘daddy’ like that again

- ...what the fuck is even going on this episode’s a mess 

like okay the split personality thing could be something but the way it’s done... what just happened lol

- MY BOY EVAN IS BACK! with a real glowup too (...though kind of weird how he suddenly looks like a grown man)

- augh scott’s eyes are so pretty oh my god ;__________________________;

- that episode in the first season where evan makes the ‘this is my new family!!’ video is so sad now (also, again, his poor poor parents) 

- time for: life affirming road trip with gambit (involuntary) faskljdfhaskjd

stunt therapist remy lebeau 

- I mean the way he goes about it is batshit insane and it’s very much secondary to what he’s actually up to but this is the first time rogue’s sounded genuinely hopeful and confident and like herself in like a season <3 

- he is disconcertingly pleased about her nearly throwing him off the train, and may I just say I agree it’s so nice to see rogue with her old fire back 

- the first time I watched this it was of course dubbed into norwegian, so I had no idea either of these characters were southern lol (though to be fair I probably wouldn’t have had much context for what it meant exactly either, I was like ten at the time and not too interested in america) I seem to dimly remember the norwegian voice actor did a little more of a ‘french’-tinged accent for gambit all over tho haha  

- you know what respect where it’s due, pyro dude knows to live his life for the lols and one has to admire his sociopathic dedication to it

interesting that he, too, seems to have fucking hated magneto -- I wonder if the implication here is that he kept all the acolytes in line with blackmail or by keeping something/one hostage? (except sabertooth maybe he’d just have to say ‘you get to fuck shit up and fight wolverine’ and that’d be enough)

- fsdakfhsd he’s so focused on her he doesn’t notice that guy about to hit him fkafhsa 

- fuck everything else except whatever the hell these two’ve got going on

- it’s weirdly cathartic to have rogue have a conversation with someone who was not happily adopted as well, I don’t think kurt like. gets it because his parents loved him unconditionally and still do 

birds of a feather motherfucker  

- fun detail: when the x-men team are on the shore and logan is sniffing around scott is stepping in something and trying to wipe it off his boots in the background

- when he wakes up after passing out from the touch he’s smiling even though she’s standing over him looking like the rage of god outlined by the moon fsajfsa well the last time he passed out like that it was from a kiss, maybe he still has some hopes and dreams in that direction lol (also he recovers from the tumble down the hill first and is checking on her before accidentally brushing her cheek with his hand, which I thought was sweet) 

and it was in that moment he knew he fucked up *passes out*

- ‘I can explain’ can u remy. can u  

- did it ever even occur to you to just. ask her. to help you. I mean I know it didn’t but like rogue’s always one second away from throwing hands with some bully and is stupidly ride or die, if you’d given her the puppydog eyes she would have crumbled immediately (fair enough I guess this entire episode is telling us he’s not from a background where he has much experience with people just helping him without a price haha) 

- his eyes glowing when he’s angry or upset or using a lot of his power is undeniably cool as all hell. I’m just saying it would be Big Sexy if they sort of flickered with light in moments of genuine vulnerability okay  

- his coat... his coat is what makes the Silhouette tm and I could not be happier about it 

- another parent of the year contestant enters the running lol “hey remy have you ever considered that you’re more of a walking bomb factory than a person? that’s certainly how I think of you hahaha c’mon kid let’s go” 

- the running joke of jean luc getting dollar signs in his eyes seeing the other mutant powers and gambit being like ‘nO!!!!’ and pulling him along is amazing haha

- from the way he looks when he touches rogue accidentally and the way he talks to his dad I’m sort of getting the feeling this gambit might actually be a bit younger than he looks?

here too -- idk why but it’s making the ‘wait is he baby???’ alarms go off in my head haha. very early twenties at most. 

- and we’ve officially seen him with all the face cards in the heart suit folks! (yes this is the sort of thing my brain notices no I don’t know either)

- poor logan running his ass off this whole episode in a panic and then she’s like ‘nah he’s fine (in several meanings of the word ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) please put him down’ hfaskfsda

- rogue without makeup!!! her eyes look so naked like this haha <3

- oooh here’s a really interesting thing that tickles my brain a bit in this specific part of the scene where gambit frees his dad -- the part where he’s leaning against the door frame waiting for jean luc, who’s about to suggest using the opportunity to ruin the rival gang from the inside rather than slipping away while they still can

from his expression here he knows what’s about to happen, what jean luc is about to say, and it’s clearly a ‘man who thought he’d lost all hope loses last additional bit of hope he didn’t even know he still had’ sort of situation. he KNOWS what jean luc is like, and it still hurts that he really, honestly can’t give him even this, can’t appreciate that remy’s already done all this shit for him when he extremely didn’t have to, without immediately (no really, it took him less than ten seconds to go there? jesus) demanding more.  

remy tells him “I’m just here for you” and jean luc does not understand it. remy seems to be sincere in this motivation -- rogue certainly thinks so, having experienced it second hand and found enough at least emotional merit in it to decide he was worth saving even after all his bullshit (lol a bit of a running theme maybe. I think it’s very telling that after she absorbed mystique she was like ‘what the FUCK you’re a fucking monster’, and after she absorbed gambit she went ‘you did the wrong thing for the right reasons’ after she got over the first wave of outrage) 

there’s also what he says as he stands there: “You don’t need me for that”, with the distinct implication that jean luc would only keep him around because he has a use for him and for no other reason -- and then jean luc shamelessly doubles down on that by specifying that it’s not even him he’s got a use for as such, just his powers. that’s some kicking puppies level of deliberately missing the point, it’s almost impressive in how cheerfully mean it is haha

this idea of using people is really important in this episode because remy’s doing basically exactly the same thing to rogue to begin with; it doesn’t really matter to his plan that it’s her that’s with him through this, just what her powers are. (I think it’s  p r e t t y  solidly implied that he does actually like her a lot outside of that too and maybe there is some comfort in having her around for this, but mostly he’s behind a smokescreen of lies through the whole thing sooo I doubt he’s even aware of it, honestly)     

but then it does matter that it’s her when she comes back for him, even after what he did. and unlike jean luc he understands what that means, that she did that for him, and that she didn’t have to. and instead of asking her for more, in return he gives her the thing it’s been established is what he considers the most valuable thing he has; his ‘last card’, the thing he’s credited with keeping him alive many a time, basically. it’s gone from using to mutuality, a tentative place of friendship, and at the end of the day he is a different man than his adoptive father, with a capacity for selflessness and love he lacks. which is of course some of the same stuff going on with rogue and mystique too, except rogue acted from a more fragile and unstable place and did something she regrets, or at least has a LOT of doubts about now, and she found some catharsis in helping someone make a different choice in a similar situation. man there’s some Stuff going on under the surface here haha

(by the way it’s a weirdly... meaningless yet intensely meaningful thing, the gifting of a symbol? of an idea? but he’s putting something very crucial of himself into her hands, is the subtext, and he expects her to understand, which she also does seem to do. at the beginning of the episode he’s proving that he’s seen something true about her -- “You’re such an unhappy girl”, knowing where she comes from, the way she’s mourning her lost confidence and autonomy with her abilities -- and here she’s proving she’s seen something true about him. :’) I wish this show had gone on long enough for this dynamic to progress, it’s really interesting and touching)   

- gambit dragging himself up onto dry land seeing someone approaching (to help?!): :D

gambit seeing that it’s logan and the look on his face: D: 

- rogue using her powers so confidently and fearlessly in this episode tho!!!! 

- *me crying* and then her FAMBILY comes to take her home and he says he’s looking out for her too and kurt still loves her even though they’re having a conflict thing between them and she’s finally able to use her powers without so much fear again and --

- ...did I just watch some baby lesbian love at first sight shit right now???  

- okay last two episodes let’s go

- HELL YEAH STORM (I love that she’s like ‘don’t give me a dumb order like that and I won’t have to disobey it’ too sdfjsaj) her voice has such command I’m usually very much not the ‘step on me’ type butttt

- y’know I feel like apocalypse’s main fault across all versions I’ve seen of him is that he’s like an immortal superpowered god king and he’s not even sexy. like at least make him hot if he’s going to be insufferable in every other way 

- also callout post for apocalypse: one time he made gambit into the Horseman of Death... and didn’t even make him sexy!!! you were handed remy lebeau, supreme bi disaster slut of the x men universe, and you couldn’t even make his brainwashed superpowered evil side hot?? a beautiful stubbled twunk with glowing red eyes and extremely charming :> face practically delivers himself into your hands and you do that to him???? I mean I’m sure apocalypse did some other bad stuff too but that was the worst one

(comics are so dumb y’all) 

- having to watch jean cry is emotional terrorism!! ;___; she has such older sister/mom energy, whenever she gets sad and helpless it hurts 

- oh, OH so PROFESSOR X you’ll make into a hunk and ~*strategically*~ rip his clothes to show off a nipple and a flawless pec in a way that makes me extremely uncomfortable because he’s like The Dad??? apocalypse you are rotten to the core this is unforgivable 

- so wait wanda never actually gets her real memories back. what the FuCk I hope that was a dropped storyline because they ended the show tragically prematurely rather than like. the plan

- why is spyke calling storm ‘storm’ show that’s his auntie o!! >:(

- as a society we need to acknowledge that apocalypse looks like a fucking clown

- ooooh yeah I have been thinking that this show’s greatest visual weakness so far has been not having a visual way to show telepathy/battles of the minds, but this is a pretty cool way to do it! better late than never

- I’m so happy rogue gets to end this herself, since she was forced into starting it against her will, it’s just nice and neat storytelling

- YEAH FUCKING TELL HER KURT AND ROGUE I AM SO PROUD OF YOU and she has the temerity to look pissed off oh my god

the only valid thing mystique has done in her entire life is be in love with destiny. literally everything else she gets up to is a travesty. like I know objectively she’s hot but my loathing for her stops me from even appreciating it. I do enjoy loathing her tho so please don’t change her haha

(a bit odd to have kurt’s attitude to her swing so much but I’m just going to assume he and rogue had a good long conversation after ‘cajun spice’ and that he understands what’s going on better now)

- this last part is such a cruel tease faskdfhsdaj ‘here are all the cool-ass things we had planned. sucks you never get to see it huh’ im devastated 

- magneto without his helmet and playing charmingly with children like charles is going ‘well at least I saved my marriage finally’ fsadkhfjsd (honestly tho I would be super interested in seeing how they’d redeem this magneto because he’s been a real bitch the whole time lol) 

there’s an interesting thing here where magneto looks down at wanda as the last thing he does on screen before this epilogue part (yeah I hope it fucking haunts you forever what you did to her erik you absolute piece of hot garbage) and the last thing charles does is look at jean b/c he knows what’s going to happen to her and it breaks his heart... Dramatic Parallells  

- just the hint of jean as the phoenix has me in full D:D:D: mode tho maybe I wouldn’t have survived it

- gambit in the last groupshot with his arm around rogue ;^) I mean I’m sure they’re headed for some turns and roundabouts along the way but what’s that thing she says as her wedding vow, that she’ll always find her way back? anyway that got me in my heart

- man I really wish this show had been given more seasons, we were barely even getting warmed up here :’(

[rubix-writings]

Punisher Pt. 2

Second part of Punisher. This is a Chicago PD/Fire imagine with an original character. I don’t own any of the plot points or characters from the show. Also, it doesn’t follow any particular season or sequence in the show.

Series Summary: Josephine (Jo) never expected to find support and pure love when she left Los Angeles. She ran away to Chicago and was content with living an insignificant, hidden life. But everything changes when she walks into Molly’s to get a job.

Josephine (OC) x Jay Halstead

The italicized lines are internal thoughts of the character.

Warnings: language, mentions of drinking

Shit, shit, shit. I sprint down the dry cement while dodging walkers and people standing on the sidewalk. I look down at my watch again hoping in some magical way time has stopped. I’m about to be late to my first shift at Molly’s, I wish I could lie and say this is a new low for me, but alas. This time wasn’t my fault though, a portion of my ceiling in my shit apartment fell onto my even shitter sofa in the middle of the night and the super was zero help about cleaning it or caring about fixing it. 

I quickly duck out of the way of a couple holding hands and immediately am met with a loud honk from the car that I stepped in front of. Without a thought, I jump back onto the sidewalk and mouth a quick “sorry.” Without gauging the driver’s reaction, I turn and run around the corner. Molly’s is in my eyesight now, I have seconds to get there before being late. Thankfully the cold air is keeping me from sweating profusely, but it’s burning my lungs with each breath. But finally, I burst through the heavy, wooden door of Molly’s.

“I’m not late!” I lean over, put my hands above my knees and start wheezing. The run quickly caught up to me leaving my lungs dry and my forehead damp. 

“Yeah, you’re right on time,” the man with grey hair behind the bar states confused. 

“Did I say that out loud?” my throat hurts, I would definitely die early in the apocalypse with this stamina. 

“Yeah you did,” he states again. Shit. I look to him again to see if I finally regained control of my body. Standing back up and pushing my shoulders back I walk over to the bar. 

“I’m Jo, Stella hired me for the open position,” I say, still somewhat out of breath.

“Yeah, everyone calls me Hermann. I’m one of the owners along with Stella,” he shakes my hand. “Welcome to Molly’s!” he smiles.

Hermann dances around the room showing off different memorabilia and letting me in on the various secrets of the pub. Like how one of the floorboards near the front window will dip when it gets really cold outside and how the register might need a hard hit every now and then since it’s the original. Hermann is like a kid in a candy store showing me around, I can’t help but smile at his passion. Even the boring stuff about cleaning empty bottles and finding more napkins, it seemed like he was going to jump out of his skin from enthusiasm. 

“I know it’s a lot, but you’ll catch on quick,” Hermann and I stand behind the bar as people slowly start flowing in. Most people ordered simple drinks of beer or wine, I try to keep up with all the work that Hermann mentioned before so everything doesn’t fall on him. 

Hours passed when Stella walks in with a gang of men following behind her. The group raises the level of chatter in the bar, women gawk while the other men roll their eyes. They all crowd around the bartop laughing loudly about a story that I definitely missed the punchline to. The men are skyscrapers, tall and wide. I finish up an order and make my way over to Stella.

“Jo! Look at you behind the bar,” she smiles. “I hired her,” she turns to the man next to her and boasts. He shakes his head while smiling.

“You’ll have to excuse her, some of us had a few before heading over here. I’m Kelly,” he extends his gigantic hand to me, it easily swallows mine.

“I’m Jo, she’s right though, she did hire me,” Stella lightly slaps his arm.

“See I told you,” Kelly just laughs and nods. “You gotta meet the rest of the guys. Guys! Guys! Guys!” She yells, getting the rest of the men to quiet down. “This is Jo, Jo meet Firehouse 51.” The guys all wave and go down the line introducing themselves. 

“Well, what can I get you guys?” They all order various beers and whiskey drinks. I fly up and down the bar fulfilling their orders, it’s weird how good it felt to be behind the bar.

“So Jo, where are you coming from?” Matt Casey asks while putting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“LA, came in a little while ago,” I answer casually as I clean off some empty glasses.

“Oh Los Angeles, the land of sunshine and the best taquitos I’ve ever had. Why would you leave?” Cruz askes, he didn’t make eye contact. His eyes were staring off at the ceiling, like he was imagining those taquitos. 

“I apparently have a deep desire to freeze to death,” the men laugh and agree. I leave my answer at that and no one asks a question prying deeper. They all fall into conversation with one another, they include me whenever they can, but I enjoyed listening to their interactions. I hadn’t seen people act like this in a while, when they smile it’s genuine rather for manipulation and by the way they talk to each other you can tell they care for one another. 

The bar becomes a tight squeeze despite it being a Thursday night and most people have work tomorrow morning. A few girls have tried and failed with the men of Firehouse 51, I give them credit for trying. I’m finishing up an order when everyone begins to welcome a few new members to the group. 

“Hey doc!” Kelly cheers at the couple. “We can move down,” he looks around at the guys. It was a nice gesture, but there was no way they were fitting two more people into their group. The woman standing is gorgeous with shiny brown hair and big brown eyes, she looks up at a tall, broad redhead with a beard. She doesn’t want to hang with him, her eyes are begging him to find an excuse. 

“No don’t worry about it, we’re gonna grab a table. Thanks though!” The redhead plays it off well. 

“Oh! Oh! Meet Molly’s newest addition!” Stella yells from behind Kelly. They’re off shift tomorrow and Stella is taking full advantage of her day off tomorrow. A part of me feels grateful for how inclusive she’s being. I laugh and extend my hand.

“I’m Jo,” he quickly takes my hand and shakes it twice.

“Will,” he smiles, he’s incredibly handsome with a great smile.

“Natalie,” she extends her hand after I let go of Will’s. 

“What can I get you guys?”

“A glass of chardonnay please,” Natalie says.

“Ugh… a manhattan for me,” Will says. By the reaction of the other guys and Natalie, this isn’t Will’s normal drink or possibly a drink anyone orders here. A manhattan is a bitch of a drink to make, it’s a lot of different alcohols with very specific measurements. 

“Rye or Canadian whiskey?” 

“Rye,” I nod and get Natalie her glass of wine. All eyes seem to be on me about this drink.

“Any particular brand?”

“No, I’m good with anything.” I lean over to the small fridge behind the bar and pull out a glass bottle of beer and pop the top off. I smile and set it in front of Will. 

“Sixteen dollars, or do you want to open a tab?” Stella bangs on the bar top while the other men snicker. Will bites his bottom lip to keep from smiling, he pulls out a twenty and puts it on the bar top. 

“I like her,” Natalie says to Will as they walk away.

[atlafan]

My Everything - Part Three

A Take it Slow Sequel

What happens with Harry and Y/N after he proposes? How will the two navigate the engaged life while also continuing to juggle their jobs, friends, and families? Let’s find out.

Warnings: Fluff and Smut.

a/n: not proofread fam, I didn’t have the strength.

Masterpost

“Oh!” You pause the TV.

“Y/N! It’s the middle of the second season finale are you fuckin’ kidding?!”

“I forgot to tell you something earlier.” You giggle.

“Alright, what is it?”

“Our new intern goes to my college, my undergrad, and he’s part of the film club, the one I helped create when I was a student, and he asked me to come to a meeting next Thursday. Would you wanna come with me? The meeting itself is at like 8PM, but I thought we could go beforehand, I could give you a little tour…”

“He asked you to come to a meeting?”

“Yeah! He wants me to like explain what I do now, and how being the film club helped me in a professional sense. He’s even going to email the director of alumni relations to see if they’ll do an article on me for the alumni magazine, but I doubt they will.”

“Why not? You’re incredibly successful, and didn’t you say an alum helped you get the job? I bet once you tell them that they’d feature you. You could talk about how important the alumni network is.”

“Harry!” You squeal and tackle him down, kissing him all over his face. He starts laughing underneath you.

“What? What?” He could barely breathe from your sudden affection.

“You’re so cute when you’re being supportive.” You nuzzle into his neck and he rubs your back.

“Well then I must be cute all the time then, huh?”

“Mhm.”

//

You forgot how beautiful your campus could be in the fall. Even though it was in the city, it had some beautiful parks and pathways. After work you had changed into a pair of jeans and a blouse. You didn’t want to look too fancy. You showed Harry different buildings where you had class, and the dorm you lived in freshman year. You both decide to go eat at a pub you used to love.

“Harry, it’s okay, have a beer if you want.”

“But I feel bad…”

“I really don’t mind. I’m fine with the seltzer water.” You smile reassuringly and he order the beer.

Once you’re done with everything you walk him around some more. You show him where you lived sophomore year, and then start walking towards the building where the film club meeting is. You see a group of people walking towards you and you gasp.

“No fucking way.” You groan and hide slightly behind Harry.

“What?”

“Nothing, we just need to walk very fast by-“

“Y/N?” A man says.

“Shit.” You say under your breath. “Um, Chris?”

“What are you doing here?!” He goes to hug you but you clutch at Harry.

“I was invited to a film club meeting…what are you doing here? I thought you graduated…”

“I did! I’m an RD.” He smiles and looks at Harry.

“Sorry, uh, this is my fiancé, Harry.”

“Hey, mate.” They shake hands.

“Wow! Congratulations. Well I won’t keep you. We should catch up sometime.”

“Sure.” You give him a fake smile and keep walking. “Gag me.”

“Who was that?”

“A guy I hooked up with like once, and he wouldn’t leave me alone. It took me going to California for him to stop asking me to come over. It was so annoying. Like take a hint dude.”

“Why didn’t you wanna hook up with him again?” Harry asks with a laugh.

“Oh, like you would always hit it twice.”

“Good point.” He smirks. “Suppose I don’t blame him, I mean, I’ve seen what that ass looks like when it’s bouncing up and down on my cock, I’d probably want you to come over again too.”

“Harry!” You smack him in the arm, making him laugh. “One beer at dinner and you’ve gone all goofy.”

“I’m just teasin’.” He throws his arm around your shoulders as you continue your walk to the building.

“Here it is, let me just text Zach that we’re here.” You both wait a few minutes, and Zach comes out to open the door.

“Hi, Y/N! Thanks again for coming, everyone is really excited. You must be Harry.” He smiles and shakes Harry’s hand. You both walk into the building. “Y/N talks about you all the time, it’s so cool that you have your own photography studio. I bet you could show some of these guys a thing or two.”

Harry liked Zach so far, he seemed polite and genuine.

“All the time, huh?” He nudges you.

“Not all the time, only when it’s relevant.”

Zach leads you into the room you knew very well. It was a computer lab you used to hold your film club meetings in. There was a screen, projector, white boards, all things you and your friends needed to have productive meetings.

“Hey, everyone!” About fifteen or so students turn to look at you and Harry. “This is Y/F/N Y/L/N and her fiancé Harry, Y/N graduated in 2017 and she’s one of my supervisors at my internship. She is one of the founding members of this club!” They all clap for you, and you’re a little surprised. “Come on in, tell them about yourself, what you do.”

You step further into the room so you can see everyone clearly.

“Thanks Zach, um, hi everyone!” You say brightly. “I’m feeling really nostalgic right now since I used to have my meetings in here too. We worked on so many cool projects, and my sophomore year we even made a short film that I stared in.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. He didn’t know you were in front of the camera as well as behind it.

“That’s why you look so familiar! At the beginning of every school year we watch a ton of past projects. You played the girl that went missing right?” A students says.

“Yeah, that was me.” You laugh.

“And you made that one about the purple pencil, that cracks me up.” Another says.

“Yes…that one was like a film challenge that the president at the time had us do. It was a lot of fun. Being in this club really took me out of my comfort zone. I never would’ve learned how to properly use a camera for filming or even taking pictures if it weren’t for film club. I have a job in marketing now where I get to edit video and sound clips, and I even supervise part of our social media department now. I really enjoy what I do.”

“Y/N was able to do well in her interview because another alum was already working there, and gave her some tips.” Zach explains.

“That’s right. It’s really important to know who your alums are, that’s why LinkedIn is so crucial.”

“Could you pull yours up?” A student asks.

“Sure! If that’s something everyone wants to see…”

They all agree and Zach logs onto the computer that’s connected to the projector. Harry takes pictures of you while you’re going over your LinkedIn.

“I think the best advice I could give is just don’t be afraid to try things. If you want to get better at something you need to practice. I went from using Windows Movie Maker, to iMovie, and now I use Adobe Premiere. It’s okay if things take time, and if there is something you want to do and you’re not sure how, don’t be afraid to Google it. I remember I had no idea how to do like a slow zoom, and I just looked it up and it was super easy to get the hang of. Create the content you’d want to watch, and have fun with it.” You smile.

A few students ask you some questions, and you end up giving out some of your business cards, good thing you brought them. Some students wanted to be able to reach out to you for resume help.

“Thanks again for coming. I’m gonna put another bug in the director’s ear. I think this is something that should be in the magazine. Oh! Do you plan to come to Homecoming Weekend?” Zach asks.

“Um.” You blink. “God, I haven’t gone to Homecoming since I was a student myself.” You snort.

“It’s alumni weekend too, you should come. I’ll be working at the alumni table, then I could introduce you.”

“When is it?”

“First weekend of October.” You look up at Harry. He looks at the calendar on his phone.

“Think I’m free…” He says.

“We could certainly try to swing by…that’s like next weekend…I have some friends that might wanna come too.”

“I can send you an email with the registration link and with all the activities for the weekend. It’s a lot of fun, as I’m sure you remember.”

“Yeah, I sort of participated in different activities…” You blush.

“Well either way.” He shrugs.

“I’ll let you know at work if we’ll be able to go. This was a lot of fun though, I’ll come back any time.”

You say goodbye to everyone, and walk out hand in hand with Harry.

“You’re really good at explaining things.” He says to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Like…you never got frustrated, or annoyed. Some of their questions were stupid, I easily would’ve gotten aggravated.”

“They don’t know what they don’t know.”

“All I’m saying is, like, ten years from now I could see you bein’ a professor or somethin’. You’ll have your MEd, you could teach an online class as a TL and see how you like and then go from there. You love learning, Y/N, why not get paid to do it?”

“I think I could see that for myself, but yeah, ten years from now. I’m curious to see how I could keep moving up at work. It would be weird to leave there. I mean, I know people don’t stay at the same place for thirty years anymore…but it would be sad to go. Plus I would miss Niall way too much.”

“Yeah, but he could easily find another job if he wanted. You shouldn’t stay somewhere just because your friends are there.”

“Says the person that persuaded the two friends he made at work to follow him to his studio.” You nudge him playfully.

“Alright you got me there, but seriously, don’t use him as an excuse.”

“I know, you’re right. Let me actually get the Med first, and then I’ll start thinking about things I wanna do years from now, okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You both get into your car and head home.

“So I know we like just got engaged, but I was thinking while the weather is still nice it might not be a bad idea to start lookin’ at some potential spots we’d wanna get married at…” You could tell he was slightly nervous to bring it up.

“I think that’s a good idea. I think you and I need to sit down and consider a budget before we hop in the car and start looking. We need to do some research online.”

“That money you wouldn’t let me pay you I was thinking could go towards the wedding.”

“Harry.” You sigh. “Shouldn’t that money go back towards the business? Or couldn’t it be saved for a holiday bonus for Mariah and Isaac.”

“I have money set aside for that already.” He says matter of factly. “You won’t let me pay you, and that’s money you’ve earned. So we should use it towards something.”

“Fine.”

“At least we’ll save money on a photographer. Mariah’s really talented.”

“I know! She’s great at capturing the moment. Did you want her to be the one to take the photos?”

“Considering how Lou’s probably going to be my best man, she’s the only other person I would trust.”

“That’s so cute you both are gonna be each other’s best men.” You giggle. “I sort of had an idea for Niall.”

“I’d really rather him be in my wedding party, he’s been my friend longer, and-“

“Actually, I don’t want him in either of our wedding parties.” You pull into the parking garage and you both get out.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s the whole reason we’re together right?”

“Yeah.”

“So…why not let him be the one to make it official?” Harry stops short when you get into the lobby of your building.

“You want him to officiate the wedding?”

“Yeah…it just feels right.” You shrug. You both get into the elevator. “What do you think?”

“I think I need to make sure I’m filming when we tell him because he’s gonna cry.” Harry smiles. “It’s a great idea, Y/N.”

“We should pick up a little gift for him, or like take him to dinner.”

“Ohhh, I like that.” He kisses your cheek as you both enter your apartment.

Buster greets the two of you, he was doing much better. You both sit down on the sofa and flip the TV on.

“Who were you thinkin’ for your wedding party then?”

“Well, it’s going to be really hard to pick a maid of honor…it always supposed to be Kate. I was her, you know? But obviously that’s not happening. I don’t know how I’d be able to choose between Sarah and Rachel.” You sigh. “I’m equally close with them…I’ll have to talk to them about it and see what they think, honestly. I don’t want anyone’s feelings getting hurt.” Harry nods. “Then my sisters would be in the party too, El of course.” You think a bit more. “That might actually be it. I have other girlfriends, but I don’t need a ton of bridesmaids. What about you?”

“Louis, obviously, Mitch…him and Sarah said congrats by the way I completely forgot to tell you. I was thinking of maybe askin’ Isaac…I’d like my sister to be in my party too.”

“Aw, that would be so cute! Oh, and I bet by the time we actually do get married Michael will be able to walk all on his own, he could be like the flower boy or something.”

“That would be really cute. Didn’t you say you wanted it to be kind of Jewish too? Like you wanted someone there to bless us?”

“My cantor from my old temple, yeah…but we don’t have to if that’s too formal.”

“No, I think it would be nice to add in there. I just don’t wanna wear the little hat if that’s okay.”

“Don’t worry.” You laugh. “You don’t have to wear the little hat.” You burst out laughing.

“What?” Harry laughs.

“I was just picturing Gemma walking one of my sisters down the aisle.” You wipe tears from your eyes. “We’ll really have to figure all this out soon.”

“That would be pretty funny.” He puts his arm around you and pulls you close. “It’s nice talkin’ about this without it bein’ hypotheticals, like, this is really happening.” He kisses your forehead.

“I know, I’m really excited, babe.” You give him a quick peck. “We just need to get through Erica’s wedding and Lou and El’s.”

“I know, a lot is gonna happen all at once.” He sighs. “Lou’s is before your sister’s though, June if I’m remembering from the save the date correctly.”

“Yeah, and Erica’s is in July, I could kill her.”

“Why?” He chuckles.

“Because it’s going to be the dead of summer, we’re going to look sweaty and gross. And of course she’s getting married at some farm, so it’s gonna be all humid and blah.” You groan. “Whatever makes her happy I suppose. I’m just glad Mike finally asked her, took him long enough.”

“Everyone does everything in their own time, baby. Weren’t they really young when they first got together?”

“Yeah she was a senior in high school, and he was out of school for a couple of years…it was a pretty cute way they met. She was working at a RiteAid at this outlet mall, and he was working at Game Stop, and I guess he would go to RiteAid like every day for a snack on his lunch break, and he would say hi to everyone but her, so one day she gave him shit for it and they started talking. Turns out his aunt was our neighbor and we had like played with him when we were kids and didn’t even know. And his older sister was best friends with Bridget when they were in high school.”

“Wow, small world.”

“Right?”

“That is a pretty cute story, but I like ours better.”

“Oh, you do?”

“Yeah, I mean, how romantic is it that a mutual friend set us up, and we had this really great dinner date?”

“It’s pretty romantic, doll.” You yawn. “Yikes, I’m tired. I’m glad tomorrow’s Friday.”

“Me too, let’s head to bed.” He stretches as he stands and follows you to the bedroom.

//

It felt so good to sleep in Saturday morning. You stretch as you sit up, and start to get out of bed, but Harry yanks you down to him, making you squeal.

“Why do you always insist on gettin’ right up?” He mumbles as he wraps himself around you to spoon you.

“I don’t want Buster to shit himself.” You giggle.

“He knows to go on the piddle pad if we don’t get right up.” He pushes his morning wood against your ass.

“Jesus.” You groan. “You don’t wanna cuddle, you just wanna having a morning fuck.” His arm slips up under your shirt so he can caress one of your breasts.

“I want both.” He says into your ear. His hand slides down to between your legs and he smirks. “Seems like you do too.” He starts to rub circles on your clit while he grinds against you. You back up against him to really feel how hard he is.

Heavy petting was rare between you two. Usually you would just end up diving into the sex, but this first thing in the morning was like heaven. The way he would really ease you into it. His fingers slowly start to slip inside, and you find yourself turning onto your stomach. Harry gets full on top of you, his chest flush with your back. You your ass up slightly so he can continue to finger and rub you. He gets his fingers in and then drags them out and up to your clit. You moan out in your pillow. He continues to grind against your ass, getting right between your cheeks. He had his boxers on so you weren’t worried about anything slipping into the wrong hole.

“You’re so wet.” He groans. “Want me to fuck you, baby?”

“Yes.”

He leans up, only for a moment, to get his boxers off. He gets back on you the way he was, nice and close, and slides in.

“Ah, fuck.” You moan out.

Harry keeps his fingers on your clit while he rocks in and out of you. His other hand slides up to the back of your head, and he gets a light grip on your hair. He knows not to pull too hard.

“Feels good, angel?”

“So good, Harry.”

He continues to rock in and out of you, and once you come from him rubbing on your clit, he pulls out to flip you over. He yanks your shirt off so you’re fully exposed to him. He slides back in and wraps his lips around one of your nipples. One of your hands is tugging on his hair while the other is digging into his back.

“Really give it me, babe, come on.”

“Want it hard, Y/N?”

“Hard and fast.”

Harry grins and sits up, grabbing both of your legs to put over his shoulders. He stretches his neck and cracks his knuckles, making you laugh. He loved when you two would laugh when you were intimate. It didn’t always need to be so serious. He pulls out nearly all the way and slams back into you. You gasp at the feeling, but you love it. He does this over and over, picking up the pace each time, making the bed start to shake. He was hitting the right spot over and over. You fist at the blankets with your head slamming far into your pillow. You grit your teeth as you feel your orgasm approaching. He could tell you were close from the way you were clenching around him. He almost wanted to pull out and make you beg him for it, but he also loved seeing how far gone you were and didn’t want to tease you. He knew he was hitting just the right spot, just a few more thrusts…

“Holy shit!” You scream as everything in your vision goes white. Tears well up in your eyes as he fucks you through the orgasm that was making you feel like you were going to collapse from within. “Oh my god, Harry! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Your praise was enough to make him lose it, and his come spurts inside you, filling you to the brim. He looks down at you to see your chest still heaving. He pulls out of you slowly and you whimper from the loss of contact. He leans down and gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“Good game.” He shakes your hand.

“Oh, shut up.” You swat at him and laugh.

You both shower quick, and go out to feed Buster. He did, in fact, need to use the piddle pad. After he eats Harry takes him out for a proper walk while you get some breakfast for the two of you going. Just some simple oatmeal.

“So, do you wanna go over a budget today? We could set up at the dining room table, and you could get a spreadsheet goin’ on your laptop.”

“Yeah, we can definitely do that.” You smile.

You and Harry sit down at the dining table, while Buster rests his head in your lap as he sits at your feet.

“Does he do that a lot?”

“Hm?” You look down at Buster. “Yeah, he likes to sit under my desk like that with me at work.” You grin at Harry. “He’s just like his daddy.” You pinch his cheek and he swats your hand away.

“Shut up.” He nudges your shoulder. “Want me to replace him right now, cause I will.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You pull up excel and name a bunch of rows with what you’ll need money for. Venue, food, drinks, photographer/videographer, DJ, hotel rooms, bachelorette/bachelor party, bridal shower, dress, etc.

“My friend Adam, the guy we got Buster from, is actually a really good DJ…”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, he always used to put playlists together for our parties and stuff. I’m pretty sure he has a DJ business on the side. I could ask him what his rates are.”

“That would be great. So…I don’t want this to be crazy expensive…like it seems silly to drop what could someday be a down payment on a house on a party for one night.”

“I agree. I don’t want it to get out of hand. I feel like the venue will be the most expensive. Let’s try to figure out where we want it so we can compare prices. Some hotels have the food and drinks included and some don’t.”

“I think…like in my wildest dreams, I’d love for it to be at a hotel on the Cape, like have the beach behind us…the ceremony outside, and then the reception would be indoors, but maybe there’s this outside patio area or something?”

“Ohh, I can really picture that. We both love the beach, let’s look and see.”

“I feel like that’s gonna be expensive.”

“We won’t know unless we look.” He grabs your laptop and opens Google. “Maybe we could find an inn or somethin’.”

“True, that would be cute actually.”

The two of you see the different options out there and find two you really like. You book a couple of tours on their websites so you can physically see the spaces.

“Oh, I wanted to ask, are we doin’ like a traditional cake or did you want cupcakes? I’ve seen a lot of people save money on just doin’ cupcakes, and then havin’ a small cake just made for the couple.”

“I think that’s a great idea. Then we could have a variety of cupcakes so everyone could find something they like. There’s a bakery I really like that back home that did my Bat Mitzvah cake, I’d like to go there to maybe do a tasting?”

“Sure.” He smiles. “I’ll let you set that up, and you can just tell me when.”

“Okay.”

“Maybe we could do like a lemon cake since we both like that.”

“Mm, my mouth is already watering. I’ll definitely set that up soon. I guess there’s not much else we can really do until we set a date, and then we can work backwards.”

“Guess you’re right.” He rubs his eyes and rests his chin in his palm. “What were you thinking for a bachelor and bachelorette?”

“God, I have no idea. I’m the sure the girls will think of something.”

“Did you wanna do a combined thing, or be completely separate. S’not like it’ll be the night before the wedding, like it could be a month or so ahead.”

“To be honest, I’d like to have a weekend with just the girls…”

“Alright.”

“Is that okay? I mean, I had a lot of fun for my birthday, but-“

“No, I really don’t mind. I just didn’t know if you wanted a combined trip, but we can have separate things.” He shrugs.

“What do you think you wanna do?”

“I was thinin’ maybe like a trip to Mohegan Sun with the guys. We went years ago, and it was a lot of fun.”

“Oo, do a little gambling, that would be fun.” You sigh. “I’m not gonna be able to drink during any of this.” You groan.

“You’ll still have fun, baby.”

“I know, but I’m gonna have to tell my friends why I’m not drinking…”

“You can just say you’re on a medication that doesn’t allow you to consume alcohol, you don’t have to specify any more than that if you don’t want to. Do you really think they’ll judge you?”

“It’s not the judgement…it’s the look on their faces I know they’ll give me. The medication has helped me a lot, I think.”

“I’m really proud of you for taking it so consistently.”

“I just take it with my birth control…it’s easy to remember.”

“Babe.” He saves the file you were working on and closes your laptop. He turns so his body is facing yours. “Can you take a second and just think about how far you’ve come? In the year that I’ve know you, you’ve made so many great steps. I can remember times you getting so frustrated because you never thought you’d be in a place where we’d be able to just go at it. I mean, think of how we had sex just this morning. You weren’t in a place this time last year to be able to do that, and now you are. I know it’s not just about sex, there’s a lot of mental progress you’ve made too, but I feel like physically, I just feel so close with you, I feel like every time we do it we get closer.” Your eyes were glossy while you listened to him.

You felt overwhelmed by his kind words. He was right about everything. You had made a ton of progress, and you didn’t reflect on it as much as you should. You stand up and he pushes his seat you. You sit down on him and wrap your arms around his shoulders, and nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. He holds you close and rubs your back. Buster yips at the two of you, clearly upset that his head was no longer comfortably resting in your lap. You both look down at him.

“He really is just like me, huh?”

[confusedweasleys]

Fix My Mind (Part One) - Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw Reader

AN: Guys it’s sad i’m not even gonna lie. But I feel like it’s important, and things WILL get better in part two!

Word Count: 1,357

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Fred Weasley was worried about his friend. Exam season was stressful for everyone, but it was a whole other world for Ravenclaws. Fred could understand the stress for a Ravenclaw: being the house of wit and knowledge, it made sense that exam season would bring a large amount of stress on most of them. But at least some of the Ravenclaws could manage it. Evelyn Verns couldn't. George had warned him it would happen. Ravenclaws generally disliked the Weasley twins due to their rambunctious nature, but George had managed to make a few friends. So, like the caring friend he was, Fred decided to check up on Evelyn often before exams.

The first time Fred was genuinely concerned about Evelyn's stress level was two months before exams. Fred went to check on Evie, figuring she was studying in the library. It actually took him a few minutes to find her. She was sat behind a mound of books as tall as her, furiously drinking coffee and reading. Her hair was twisted tightly into a knot with her wand, her eyes flying across the pages. Fred plopped himself nosily into the seat next to her.

"Hey Evie!" he said cheerfully. She inclined her head towards him in greeting, keeping her eyes trained on the page, now scribbling notes on a scrap of yellowed parchment. Fred plucked her quill from her hand. Evelyn started in surprise and glared at him.

"Give it here," she said, making a move to grab it out of his hand.

"Tsk tsk." Fred moved the quill above her head. "Not until I get a proper greeting." Evelyn huffed in frustration, and turned to look at Fred for the first time since he had sat down.

"Hello Frederick. So lovely to see you here. In the library. While I'm trying to work," she said venomously, plucking her quill out of Fred's hand.

"Geez Evie, you need to chill out. O.W.Ls aren't for another two months," Fred said leaning back in his chair and eyeing her.

"One month and twenty-two days Weasley," Evelyn said, returning to her writing.

"Same thing Verns," Fred said, now flipping through the pages of one of the staked books.

"Actually they aren't," said Evelyn, snatching the book out of Fred's hand and placing it neatly back onto the table. The book stack was the only neat thing on the library table. Parchment was scattered all over the table, broken quills lay discarded on the floor, and the contents of Evelyn's book bag were dumped across the table.

"I have one month and twenty-two days to understand the content of twelve magical courses so throughly that I am able to recall it the information, then apply it theoretically and practically in a three hour period." Fred was silent for a moment.

"Evie, you know you'll do great. You need to not stress so much about your exams."

"I am stressing the perfect amount for a student about to take some of the most important exams in her life."

"Evie." Fred looked at her. "When was the last time you ate something?"

Evie looked down guilty. "At dinner tonight."

"Bullshit"

"Fine. Yesterday morning"

"Alrightie. Pack it up," Fred said standing up and beginning to gather up the books.

"Fred no-Fred stop!" she said, trying in vain to put the books back into their piles.

"Evie. You are going to take a break, and you are going to eat something." Evie looked at him doubtfully.

"Fred I need to -"

"Eat and rest," he said. "Weren't you the one who told me a person's productivity went down when they were tired or hungry and stuff," he said. Although stubborn, Evelyn was never one to argue with sound logic.

"Fine," she huffed, helping him to gather her stuff up.

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The second time Fred was concerned about Evelyn he caught her cutting class. The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had Herbology together on Thursdays, and Fred and George has dutifully traipsed into the greenhouse with their peers. Fred had gone to the work station he shared with Evelyn, only to find her absent, though the rest of her fellow Ravenclaws were present. Before he could question it, Professor Sprout had launched into a lengthy review lecture of the Tantacula plant. Deciding the Herbology review would ultimately be useless to him, Fred opted to quietly slip out of Greenhouse Six when Professor Sprout was snipping the leaves of a live Tentacula plant to show the class.

Once out, Fred ran over his options of where to look for Evelyn as walked quickly through the sunlight halls. Skipping class, what was she thinking. Figuring that Evelyn could hide rather well if she didn't want to be found, Fred decided to grab the Marauder's Map from his dormitory to locate his friend.

Upon reaching Gryffindor Tower, Fred raced up and grabbed the map from its hidden place under George's four-poster bed. The crinkled paper smoothed as Fred pressed his wand against it and said, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." The map revealed its secret ink, and Fred scanned it greedily. After minutes of searching, Fred finally located Evelyn's name. The map showed Evelyn in a small tower on the west side of Hogwarts, not too far from the Astronomy tower. Fred pocketed the map and set off towards the tower. On the way there, Fred's thoughts ran wild. What is wrong with her? Evelyn would never skip class, not unless something was wrong? Is something wrong? His concern grew until he reached a small staircase at the end of a secluded corridor. The map showed that the staircase led to the tower. Fred hurried up the steps to come to a small room, with a large window facing the east. Evelyn sat in the corner of the room, her head once again bent over a long scroll of parchment. The familiar storm of books, parchment, and quills was scattered around her.

"Evie what the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" Fred asked loudly. Evelyn started.

"Jesus fucking Christ Fred. You scared the shit out of me," said Evelyn hotly, turning around to face him.

"What the hell? You're skipping class to study?" Fred said back. "You never skip class. Plus, that seems counterproductive," Fred finished jokingly, attempting to soften his harsh words.

"Don't worry, it's not," Evelyn said, returning to her writing.

"Please explain that to me." Evelyn sighed and pushed away her parchment. She turned to face Fred.

"We are one month away from our O.W.L.s. That means every class is review. We waste time in class, especially in classes with Gryffindors. I can review more efficiently on my own." She turned back to the stack of papers.

"Evelyn I'm concerned. And it takes a hell of a lot to concern me."

"Fred you have nothing to be concerned about. This is how all Ravenclaws get during exams."

"Then why are all the other Ravenclaws in Greenhouse Six? Why are none of the other Ravenclaws' hands permanently stained with ink? Why are none of them creating experimental energy potions?" Evelyn looked up at this. Fred stared her in the eyes. "Yeah," he said, looking away. "Don't think I hadn't noticed."

"It's not dangerous," she said quietly, looking away.

"It's not-It's not dangerous," Fred stuttered, his anger returning. "I may just be a stupid Gryffindor, but even I know that experimental potions rarely go well. You're going to kill yourself."

"I'm not!" Evelyn said hotly, standing up from her work for the first time. She marched up to him. "This is important to me, to my future-"

"You won't have any future to look forward to if you're dead," Fred said, stepping closer to her. They would have been nose to nose, if not for Fred's gangly height. "It's not just the potions. You aren't eating, you aren't sleeping. You're skipping class." He grabbed her shoulders. "You need help. You need to talk to Professor Flitwick, or see Madame Pomfrey, or -"

"What will they do?" Evelyn cut in angrily. "They can't help me. They'll make me rest or eat or stop working."

"That's what you need to do!" Fred shot back. "You need to take care of yourself."

"I need to do well on these exams. I need to make it through these next few weeks," Evelyn said, shaking her head.

"I can't watch you do this to yourself," Fred said, the anger leaving his voice. Only sadness was left behind.

"Then leave," Evelyn said, turning away from the boy standing so close to her. And he did.

[almostkoo]

How to Enjoy Your Summer and Mend a Relationship In Two Weeks

pairing: namjoon/reader word count: 7.5k

summary: 80′s!au,enemies to lovers! au, oc is a counselor at a summer camp, they don’t really like Namjoon, their friendship is a work in progress.

warnings: since it’s a 80′s au I did not go easy on the slang at all, apparently crop tops were a thing for guys so I took liberty with that one ;), namjoon and oc gets extremely petty with each other through this, namjoon’s a rich boy, oc roasts him for that a little.sorry for any grammatical errors, enjoy!!

Summertime was perhaps without a doubt your favorite season. The air was thick and muggy as you stepped off the bus arriving at Oakpark Sleepaway Camp. Your hiking boots crunching against the dirt as the children ran around full of energy. Your hair already clung to the back of your neck with sweat, running your hands through your hair you gathered it and pulled it back, holding it back with a scrunchie. Oakpark Sleepaway Camp held a very special place in your heart as you had been attending the camp since you were eight. Begging your parents to finally let you venture off to the camp many of your classmates had come back some summer vacation bragging about how much fun Oakpark was.  

Fear of missing out was a bitch you suppose.

Over the past three summers since you had become a counselor at Oakpark, now here you were at your fourth and final summer before your freshman year of college. You bonded easily with the children and a lot of them clung to you. The familiar faces grouped around you, everyone happy to see the friends they made the summer prior. In the middle of the crowd stood a lone boy, big, wide doe eyes scanning the people around him as he clutched tightly on the straps of his Transformers duffle bag. Seeing your small pal from last summer you called out to him. “Jungkook!” You called out. He jumped at the sound of his name but his face quickly broke out into a smile and he called out your name before running to you and wrapping you in a tight hug.

“How has your year been buddy, it’s been awhile since I saw you!” You said gleefully.

“Well 5th grade wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I learned about the water cycle” he shrugged “how was your graduation?”

“Well about as good as any graduation could be at least I made it out unscathed.” you said, throwing an arm over your face for dramatic effect which earned a laugh from Jungkook. 

“I can’t wait to graduate. I'm absolutely over school.” 

“Well it could always be worse you could be-“

 Suddenly a loud, obnoxious laugh cut you off from not too far away behind you. Immediately you knew who the boisterous laugh belonged to. You turned around slightly glancing over your shoulder to sneak a glance. There he stood the very bane of your existence — Kim Namjoon.

Kim Namjoon had been annoying you ever since you were eleven. When he started attending the camp yearly after he moved and switched school districts, attending the very prestigious private school Landis Academy. The summer he strolled onto Oakpark’s campsite the whole air about the place changed. Something about the way he carried himself screamed arrogance and you couldn’t stand it. Everyone didn’t see it but you saw right through his facade as soon as you saw his crispy white Nikes hit the ground, decked in head to toe name brands clothes you couldn’t even afford a pair of socks from. He came in high and mighty ruining every summer since. Yet the children loved him and the adults at the camp adored him and his smile that with deep dimples to compliment it . Who gave him the right?   You snapped out of your train of thought when Jungkook dashed past you running to Namjoon to hear about whatever had the children crowding around him enthralled. Probably talking about physics to make himself look even smarter than he already is in front of the kids. I can’t believe he got Jungkook to flock over to him. You thought to yourself. The camp leader rounded everyone together with the sound of her whistle. The older lady Mrs. Bradshaw who ran the camp was decked in her all beige camping outfit with a big smile on her face. She greeted the campers, counselors and staff. As you stood there zoning out on what Mrs. Bradshaw was talking about you suddenly felt a presence looming behind you. With a scoff you acknowledged the nuisance behind you. 

“What do you want Namjoon?” You whispered annoyed trying not to draw attention to the two of you. “Just wanted to ask how your year went.” he asked. You could hear the insincerity laced in his words. “Gag me with a spoon. You do not care at all how my year went. If anything you probably sought me out to brag about what college you got accepted to, you pest.” “Not even. I genuinely wanted to know.” You glanced over at Namjoon and to your dismay he had his attention directly on you. You noticed he had his hair styled different not that you paid him any attention the past few summers he had let his hair grow a little longer sporting a mullet. You couldn’t help but scoff at the expensive Ray Bans perched in his bleach blonde locks. “It was fine. I hoped for once you would take summer off and not show up but I guess we can’t always get what we want.” “What makes you think I wanted to see you either. Here I am trying to be the bigger person and approach you first to start anew as we go into adulthood but I guess we can’t always get what we want.” He said, repeating your last sentence back to you. “Oh God, don’t have a cow Namjoon, you are not that into the idea of us being all chummy with each other.” “You wouldn’t know, dweeb,” he sneered. You rolled your eyes turning your attention back to the front where Mrs. Bradshaw was wrapping up her speech to everyone. She was about to announce the small groups of campers every counselor was responsible for and what side of the camp they would be on. The piece of land Oakpark resided on was essentially an island with water in the middle separating the two sides, Northwood and Southwood. You zoned back in right as Mrs. Brunswick was ending her list.

She announced you would be in charge of the Butterfly Tribe with Seokjin, Hoseok and Yoongi. She turned to Namjoon, not hiding the favoritism in her voice as she announced him and the Chipmunk Tribe leader with Jimin,Taehyung and Jungkook. Karma couldn’t be more in your favor. The summer prior all six of the named children had attended. Your group was pretty mellow with the exception of Hoseok who was just a walking ray of sunshine and could seemingly never run out of energy. Namjoon’s group on the other hand. Jimin and Taehyung got paired together last summer. The two were a pair of troublemakers to the highest degree. How they managed to get paired together was beyond you. They weren’t in your group and that’s all you had to worry about. But the fact that they were in Namjoon’s group. These next two weeks were going to be very interesting. 💨 The first week of camp hadn’t been so bad. So far it had been the usual. Questionable food (besides the apple pie served for dessert). Relay races and arts and crafts. Somehow within a week you and Namjoon had found a way to put your respective groups of children against each other. Your group had proven successful in many of the camps activities. Although something must’ve happened because on Thursday, Jungkook had completely dusted your team in the relay race. You sat around the other counselors at dinner chatting about everything under the sun. The downside of being away from home was the fact that many of you all were missing your weekly programs. You weren’t too upset you had brought your Walkman to pass by the time. Between the energetic kiddos and Namjoon driving you up a wall Madonna was gonna keep you sane until you returned home. In the middle of picking up a forkful of meatloaf. The lights flickered out eliciting a outbreak of screams from the kids. Quickly the adults grabbed lanterns and huge flashlights as they browsed everyone in attendance doing a headcount. Afterwards Mrs. Bradshaw spoke into a megaphone to grab everyone's attention. “Okay everyone. The lights are out on both sides of the camp, to be safe we’re gonna have all of the campers and counselors sleep in the mess hall tonight. Just in case the lights don’t come back on in the middle of the night it would be safer to have everyone in one spot. We’re gonna have everyone move in groups of eight. Two counselors and six campers. So everyone can grab their sleeping bags and toiletries they might need through the rest of the evening.” Fuck. You thought. Hopefully I’ll get paired up with one of the girls.

Dread fell on your shoulders when you heard yours and Namjoons names called together. “You both have all boys in your groups right?” she practically screamed into the already loud megaphone. You blanked, mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. “Yeah! Do you want us to take our campers to the cabins?” He called back to her. You looked across the mess hall to where one of the staff was holding a flashlight, illuminating Namjoon’s face. You glared at him and you saw him smiling. “Barf me out the universe has it out for me.” you mumbled under your breath. The sudden glare from the flashlight caught you off guard making you flinch. “Is that okay with you?” Mrs. Bradshaw asked. “Radical! Thanks for the suggestion!” You tried to make the cringe expression on your face look less like a grimace and more like a true smile. “Great tubular,” she said, earning groans from the youth in the mess hall. “Gather your campers and come to the front to get a lantern.” You groaned quietly, looping your legs out from under the bench. You made your way to the front where you met up with Namjoon. Mrs. Bradshaw held out a single lantern. “We have to split the lanterns so you two have to decide which one of you want to carry it.” “I’ll carry it.” You and Namjoon said in unison. Both of your heads snapped to each other as you slightly glared at each other. “I’ll rock, paper, scissors you for it.” Namjoon smugly, offered. “No I said I’ll carry it.” you sneered. Gently grabbing the lantern from Mrs. Bradshaw’s grasp. Surprisingly Namjoon didn’t put up a fight. You let out a whistle calling you campers to you as Namjoon gathered together his campers too as you both left the mess hall. 💨 You and Namjoon started the trek to the boys cabin. Thankfully both groups were on the Northwood side. Both of you stood in the doorway waiting for the boys to gather their sleeping bags and to change into their pajamas. You looked out at the lake that was crystal clear. Sighing you felt your face scrunch up as you swatted away what had to be the 20th mosquito that evening. Namjoon let out a soft chuckle, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“What’s so funny? You wouldn’t like it if mosquitoes were flocking towards you either.” You said, irritated. 

“I’m honestly surprised they’re around you in the first place I thought they tended to fly around sweeter scents; if being bitter was a scent you’d probably radiate it.” He spat.

“Bag it. I don’t even know why I address your presence in the first place, twerp.” You moved out of the doorway, desperate to move as far away from Namjoon’s bothersome self. You went to take a step attempting to dodge a mud pile in front of you, underestimating the leap you took, you felt the grip of your Keds give and right as you anticipated the fall a pair of strong arms came from behind you wrapping themselves under yours pulling you back away from the mud. Quickly you pushed yourself back off of Namjoon when you got your footing. “Jeez I can’t even get a thank you from saving you from wiping out? I could’ve totally let you slip and walk around with a muddy ass.” You hesitated on the apology. Thinking to yourself you knew if your grandmother was here she would’ve whacked you for not showing common decency in the first place.

“Thanks, Namjoon.” The apology came out through a struggle between your gritted teeth. You looked at Namjoon who stood back in his original spot, leaning on the doorframe. “See that wasn’t so hard. See now I’m gonna help you out and attempt to show you how manners work. Watch this,” he held his hand up underneath his mouth. “No problem.” He smiled big making his deep dimples show themselves. It was a crime such beautiful features had to be on him with that personality inside. The universe sure had an interesting way of doing things.

Quickly the kids came out of the cabin dressed in their pajamas various assorted characters displayed on them. Next you all made your way to the counselors cabins to grab your belongings. You grabbed your sleeping bag and pajamas, opting to change when everyone made it back to the mess hall so everyone wouldn’t be waiting any longer as the sun started going down. Namjoon and the boys stood outside with their belongings waiting . As soon as the boys laid eyes on your sleeping bag they erupted into a fit of laughter.

“Alright dweebs, knock it off its not that funny.” you scoffed, placing a hand on your hip. As the laughter continued. The only one who remained with a straight face was Jungkook and Namjoon.

“Ew is that Care Bears? You’re going to college? With that colorful, glittery mess?” Taehyung asked, in between breaths as he laughed. Your shoulders slumped as you sighed again throwing your head back. You couldn’t believe you were about to be obliterated by a 7th grader.

“Care Bears are better than those grody Thundercats you have all plastered on your pajamas.” You shot back at the boy. 

“Take it back! Thundercats are cool!” Jimin said, coming to his friend's defense.

“Alright that’s enough. Thundercats are trash. Let’s head back to the mess hall.” Namjoon said, turning on his heels as he adjusted his sleeping bag securely under his arms. You felt a small grin spread on your face, you were shocked that Namjoon came to your defense but decided not to sweat it. It’s not a big deal. You told yourself.

💨 Back at the mess hall you returned from the bathroom, decked in your older brothers G.I Joe shirt and a pair of shorts. Many of the children were playing around the mess hall. Some playing board games and others talking amongst themselves. 

You looked around to find somewhere to lay your sleeping bag down at. Everyones was lined around the wall of the mess hall. As you scanned around the hall there was only a spot between the two of the boys and one by a black sleeping bag laid out haphazardly by the wall and the corner of the wall. Weighing the options you figured that sleeping in between two of the boys would have been worse than sleeping in the corner by the random owner of the bag. You’d be damned if you had to spend the night between boys cracking fart jokes and talking about God knows what gross little boys talk about. Walking over to the bag, you scooted it over a little to lay out your beloved beat up Care Bears sleeping bag. Laying on top of it you grabbed your Walkman and fished through your bag you brought from under your bunk to pull out your mixtape one of your best friends made for you before you left, adjusting your headphones over your head. You grabbed one of the murder mystery novels you packed letting your music play as you leaned against the wall curling up as comfortably as possible you closed out the outside world to dive into the book.

Right when the story was starting to pick up you felt something nudge against your arm. You pulled one of cuffs back away from your ears you looked up at the source and almost choked on your own spit. The source of the nudging came from Namjoon who stood above you dressed in a cropped short sleeved jersey and a pair of plaid pajama pants. He held a book as to his side as he peered down at you with a puzzled expression on his face. “Can I help you?” you sneered.

“Umh, may I ask as to why you’re in my spot?” Namjoon asked. You jumped , smacking your head not so softly against the wall, headphones falling off your head in the process. Namjoon flinched back at the sound of your head against the wood.

“Your spot? I don’t see a placeholder with Kim Namjoon on it anywhere.” you frowned.

“Is your head okay?” he asked, reaching for you slightly.

“ My head is fine. Look if you think I’m going to give up this cozy spot by the wall you are for sure mistaken.” 

“I’m not about to childishly argue with you over the spot. If I wanted to I’d wait for you to fall asleep first and slide you across the floor away from it.” “You wouldn’t.” You challenged him. Namjoon said something that you couldn’t make out. You had given him the once over and from where he stood and where you sat on the ground you could see almost straight up his top giving you a perfect view at his toned stomach, your mind went blank for a brief moment until you felt another nudge against your arm. Namjoon smiled down at you.

“See something you like?” He asked, as he lifted his arms over his head stretching dramatically causing his shirt to rise up even higher. You quickly turned away from him, knowing he was trying to bait you.

“Gag me with a spoon, nobody wants to look at you.” you rolled your eyes at him. He sat down on his sleeping bag next to you.

“Can’t you go sleep outside the bathroom? Do you have to sleep right here?” you questioned.

“Is there a window by the bathroom? No I didn’t think so.” You rolled your eyes at his statement. “What does it matter for? It’s not even that hot outside plus you’re half dressed anyways.” You gestured at the jersey he wore.

“It is 88 degrees right now just be lucky I didn’t put on a pair of shorts. I saw how you were looking at me last Thursday when we all played Marco Polo in the lake.” You felt a warm wave quickly come over you.

You felt embarrassed that Namjoon had noticed you in the first place watching him. While you had opted to stay with Yoongi who was adamant that alligators housed the waters over by the tire swings, your eyes couldn’t help to fall on Namjoon multiple times in that afternoon. He donned striped neon lime swim trunks. The color complimented his golden complexion and the trunks themselves showcased his thick, firm legs and had you going slack jawed many times throughout the day. It wasn’t your fault Namjoon just so happened to be as handsome as he was with such a shitty personality.

Even though you attempted to be quick enough to not catch his eyes it appeared you weren’t. “Sit on it. Like I said earlier, nobody is looking at you all like that. Don’t be so full of yourself loser nerd.” you scoffed, deflecting his previous statement.

“If I’m a loser nerd you are too, because here we are two loser nerds both reading a book in the middle of the summer.” Namjoon picked up his book, reaching into the pocket of his pajamas he pulled out a pair of thick lensed glasses. He put them on, flipping through the book to find where he left off at.

“See now you’re definitely a nerd. Look at your pop bottle glasses. I would’ve said they were for style but based on the lenses I think you’d actually need them.” you chuckled. Namjoon’s shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. He turned in your, the bridge of his glasses slid down to the tip of his nose as he looked over the rim at you.

“What’s your damage?” He asked. You could hear his words dripping with irritation.

“My damage?” You asked, you sat up off the wall facing him. “When you first came to this camp you walked in all stuck up like you owned the place. You thumbed your nose at me from the moment you saw me. Why would I ever like someone like you?” Namjoon opened his mouth to defend himself, when you cut him off again.

“Then to make matters worse I didn’t even speak to you. I didn’t acknowledge you. You put crickets in my bunk one summer and the next summer you trashed my paper mache lantern. I was going to give that to my grandmother when I got back home and I couldn’t thank you very much.” You tried, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

When you first saw Namjoon all those summers ago. Yes, you would admit that you did have a crush on him. He was probably the first crush you had on another person since being exposed to the public. Between all the relationships you had at school for some odd reason your mind would always trail back to Namjoon. But when he started all the pranks it kind of faded away. You didn’t really know what you had done to get him to dislike you the way he did but you knew it bothered you to the core. “I never hated you,” he confirmed. Confusion quickly spread across your features as you finally pulled the headphones off your head.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Explain what all that bullshit was these past summers, quickly.”

“I don’t hate you. I never did. I—“ he sighed. “I was younger and I liked you, okay? I admired you. I thought you were cute. Given that I didn’t do my best to say that. I didn’t know at first it was the feeling I felt for you and by the time I realized what it was I had dug myself into a hole too deep. I felt like you would have never liked me at this point and I had to keep it going.” He admitted. Your eyes darted around the room looking at anything that wasn’t Namjoon. You didn’t know how to process the thoughts racing around your mind. Were you mad? Yes, but even more confused. The paper mache lantern had really pissed you off when it happened and even though you made another one it still wasn’t as good as the first one which really bummed you out. Namjoon softly called out your name. You looked back at him. He fiddled with his glasses that now laid in his hands. “I really fucking loved that lantern you know.” You attempted to crack a joke. You could tell Namjoon wasn’t sure if he should laugh back or not. 

“I am so sorry for that.”

“No no it’s okay. I mean don’t get me wrong the first one was purple and my grandmother's favorite color is purple and I had to give her a green one but that’s neither here nor there. Why did you do all that stuff? Why not just say you had a crush on me?” Namjoon’s eyes bucked in shock.

“Be honest would you have talked to me?” 

You opened your mouth hesitating before you spoke. “I mean.” You let your words trailed off. “Exactly my point.”

“Aren’t you like smart enough to know a lot of people don’t like when people pick on them trying to ‘express’ their feelings for others. It’s the 80’s people hate that now. Maybe our parents would have liked that.” You said, pulling on a loose string of your shirt. Namjoon softly called your name. When you looked at him he was looking down at his hands again. “You can’t just treat anyone how you want and expect them to come around when you call yourself having an epiphany.” you sighed. There was a lot to think about. In the entirety of the time you knew Kim Namjoon he had been nothing but a jerk and that’s years of knowing someone it’s a lot to erase about someone. 

“ I can’t stress this enough I am so sorry and I know that years of us going back and forth can’t be erased but maybe if you give me a chance maybe we can start anew?” Namjoon reached out to hold your hand. You looked at your hands intertwined and then up at his eyes. Dark, amber eyes peered into yours. Pleading for a you to take a gamble. You slowly pulled your hand out of Namjoon’s grip, his full lips forming a soft frown. 

“I don’t know Namjoon. I’d have to think about it.” you replied to him. He let out a sigh, seemingly not out of frustration but something else you couldn’t read.

“I understand. If I was in your shoes I most likely wouldn’t have been able to make a decision on the fly like that either. I probably shouldn’t have even brought it up.” You wanted to attempt to console Namjoon, who in the whole time you had known him you’d never seen him like this. Sad and possibly heartbroken. Your feelings were all over the place. You felt like someone had thrown all of your emotions into a pan like ingredients ready to be scrambled like Sunday breakfast.

“I’ll let you know how I’m feeling when I find out myself.” you wrapped your headphones around your Walkman and closed your book up. You laid back down on top of your sleeping bag. Staring at the wall you let your thoughts all hit you fully at once. There was a huge chance that you weren’t getting any sleep tonight after Namjoon’s confession. 💨

You woke up to someone tapping your shoulder. Your eyes opened as you checked your surroundings, forgetting about the power outage from the night before. Namjoon kneeled in front of you.

“Good morning, breakfast started being served. I didn’t want you to miss it.” he said.

“Uh thanks?” you yawned, your answer coming off more like a question. You slowly sat up rubbing at your eyes. You stood up gathering your belongings together. Namjoon cleared his throat from behind you. You turned around giving him your attention, with a puzzled expression.

“I was- umh wondering maybe- umh did you want to sit with me while we eat?” he asked. Anxiousness rolled off of him in waves. His posture was slightly slumped, as he picked at the hem of his jersey, eyes examining the wood floors. You gave it a quick thought. “I mean.” you dragged. Namjoon instantly perked up.

“I don’t want to pressure you-”

“No it’s okay I don’t feel pressured. I’ll eat breakfast with you.” Namjoon’s face contorted into a grin.

“I wasn’t expecting you to say yes” you heard him say quickly under his breath. “Okay.” you two stood there for a second as the goofy grin on Namjoon’s face didn’t budge.

“So are we gonna get our plates or?” you asked. “Oh! Right, right. Let’s go then.” he turned, heading towards the food line.You two made your plates. You settled for a light breakfast. You and Namjoon sat down at the end of one of the long picnic table benches that lined the mess hall. You slowly toyed around with the assorted fruits in the foam bowl in front of you. No conversation took place between the two of you for at least five minutes. “Guess you aren’t good at starting a conversation with someone if you aren’t being a jerk huh?” you said, taking a bite out of cantaloupe. Namjoon opened his mouth to defend himself.

“No it’s just-”

“Namjoon I’m just fucking with you. I see the electricity still hasn't come back on.” you took into account the ceiling fans in the hall that usually by now would have been running, cooling down the humid place. “Yeah it’s kinda warm in here I probably should’ve slept in shorts. I’m starting to regret it.”

“Do you know what Mrs. Bradshaw has planned for today?I know it was supposed to be movie day.” “I think a dodgeball game.” Namjoon let out a breath, he moved his Cheerios around with his spoon.

“Dodgeball? With children? Not maybe volleyball or something. Wouldn’t that be less dangerous?” 

“Isn’t volleyball slightly more dangerous?”

“I knew a girl that got her arm broken while playing dodgeball.”

“Didn’t you play volleyball in high school? If we do end up playing I’m asking Mrs. Bradshaw to make you sit on the sidelines. It’s not fair to have a seasoned veteran playing against us amateurs.” Namjoon laughed. You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked at him.

“How did you know I played volleyball?” “You wore your volleyball shirt last summer I’m assuming it was yours. Plus Scoville played against my school this season.” he revealed. “I didn’t know we played Landis.” you said. Namjoon replicated the expression you gave him. “Question? How did you know I went to Landis?”

“I-”

Namjoon laughed at you. “Creeper.”

“No” you replied, firmly. “As prestigious as Landis is I would expect a Einstein such as yourself to go there. Couldn’t have us commoners rubbing off on the elite.” you joked.

“Einstein? I wouldn’t call myself all that.” he said, you could see a subtle blush creeping on his cheeks.

“We’re starting anew right? Accept the compliment.” you smiled and Namjoon mirrored you. 💨

Everyone stood in the gym. It was currently halfway through round two of dodgeball. You sat on the lowest level of the wooden bleachers talking with one of the other counselors, Sam, who had gotten out both times almost as quick as the rounds had started. 

Surprisingly Namjoon hadn’t gotten out in this round. The first round he had only gotten out because Jimin had thrown the ball at him and even though it hadn’t quite hit him. It rolled along the floor until it got stopped by the tip of Namjoon’s shoes. Jimin got too excited that he technically had gotten one of the counselors out that Namjoon didn’t really have the heart to tell him it wasn’t an actual out. So he took it in silence, trudging along to the spot next to you on the bleachers to keep you company.

Although you sat on the sidelines. The game was mildly interesting from some of the children who had a mean throw and the counselors mixed in who were playing hard with each other. You didn’t also mind the view that got provided with the game. Namjoon, who opted to wear a blue muscle tank and jean shorts. You allowed yourself to indulge in the sight you got. His biceps flexed as he cocked his arm back to throw the bright red rubber ball. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding. Which Sam on the side of you had definitely noticed.

“So you’re finally admitting that Kim Namjoon is attractive?” Sam asked you. The question caught you off guard. 

“I haven’t even said anything about him.” you said, bashfully.

“I see the way you’ve been watching him out on the court. What type of front are you putting up?” Sam shook her head at you. You went to plead your case. When Sam started talking again.

“Then when he got out he came straight over to you. You were practically drooling over him. I bet you can’t even tell me what half of the conversation was about. Could you?”

To be quite honest, you probably couldn’t tell Sam what half of the conversation was about. Maybe it might’ve been about a- yeah you didn’t know what the conversation was about. You had found yourself multiple times while Namjoon was talking getting lost staring at him. For a few sentences you would give him eye contact then you looked at his nose fighting back a mean urge to take your index finger and boop it and anything he smiled and his dimples played peekaboo you found yourself sneaking glances. God forbid you looked down while he spoke,

Namjoon, while he was out for some reason didn’t sit on the bleachers like Sam did for instance, sitting upright. He leaned back like you did, getting comfortable while he rested. His thighs spread slightly as he chatted away to you. You had however snuck the quickest look in the world downwards when he adjusted his seating position, Your mind went absolutely TV static blank and your lips parted as you drew a quick breath. You had to straighten up quickly as you got a little worried if Namjoon noticed you checking him out he might’ve fallen into his old ways and teased you. “He was talking about- birds?” you asked Sam.

“Fuck no. He was talking about his graduation. Oh my God you are the worst.”

You leaned forward. “Are you serious? He wasn’t talking about birds? I heard something about a bird.”

“No” Sam giggled.”I can’t even get mad at you. Kim Namjoon is a total babe.” You heard the whistle blow signaling that someone was out again. You looked up to see who was out. This is what I get for talking him up. You thought to yourself. Namjoon strolled over in your direction with a big smile on his face. Who would be happy to be out of dodgeball? He sat on the side of you in the same cursed position. “So as I was saying then as I was giving my speech. One of the parents in the crowd lost it.” His words trailed off as you looked past him at Sam who was shaking her head at you. 💨

One by one the kids had gotten kicked out of the game. Until it was just counselors left. Then suddenly the worst case scenario could have happened as the last kid walked off the court. One of the counselors, a loud mouthed sixteen year old named Tony had suggested one of the most trash ideas in history.

“Mrs. Bradshaw! We should have the counselors play against each other !” he yelled. Before Mrs. Bradshaw could answer the question the kids erupted in cheers rooting for the idea. Mrs. Bradshaw looked at the rowdy children.

It’s not like you didn’t want to play dodgeball. But at least when the children were playing too. The ball got thrown softer because one there was a chance that one of the kids were throwing the ball which meant it wasn’t getting thrown hard and if a kid wasn’t throwing the ball it meant a counselor was throwing and they couldn’t throw the ball but so hard because of the kids. But now it was all fair game and you really didn’t want to get bruised.

“Well the children seem to like the idea. How about it?” she asked. The counselors really didn’t have an option. It’s not like Mrs. Bradshaw abused her power but.. she only asked to be decent. The counselors that were out got up off their various spots on the bleachers.

“Wait? Who’s gonna throw?” Tony asked. Fuck this kid. You thought as you zoned out to make your way to the wall. You heard Mrs. Bradshaw call your name.

“Huh?” you called.

“Namjoon suggested you throw since you played volleyball! You must be a good throw.” she said, cheerfully.

Fuck this kid. You thought again. Namjoon ran to you with the ball in his hands.

“Go get em tiger.” he said, lowering his voice. He handed you the ball, he jogged over to a spot against the wall. You felt your face heat up a little. You were a softie for words of encouragement. You tossed the ball in your hands. First to do was to get this little fucker Tony out for suggesting the idea in the first place. You cocked your arm getting ready to throw the ball in his direction. As soon as the ball left your hand he dashed away the ball smacked against the wall hard. 

It went like that back and forth for a while. Four people had gotten out so far. The fourth, Sam who you genuinely wasn’t trying to get out she just so happens to be on the side of Tony when the ball bounced off the wall and hit her arm. You mouthed her an apology that she brushed off with a smile, she was probably happy to sit down in all honesty. 

Tony rolled the ball back down the court to you and if you didn’t know better you would have assumed he was doing it mocking you. Knowing that you were trying to get him out. If this was volleyball instead you probably would have just said screw it and spiked the ball at his face. You rolled the ball around in your hands. You heard kids off on the bleachers cheering for you. It put a smile on your face. You looked to where Tony stood, he was on the side of Namjoon .When you locked eyes with Namjoon, he smiled and winked at you. You had to focus. This could be the throw that finally got Tony’s punk ass out,then you could finally stop seeing that shit eating grin leave his face. You took a deep breath. You swung your arm back, throwing it forward you released it propelling it. You closed your eyes before you could see it make it contact. But when you heard the sound of the ball smack against flesh you knew you hit him. A loud “Oh fuck” went through the gym, followed by a wave of gasps.

Wait, that didn’t sound like Tony. You expected to be met with the sight of Tony clutching his arm in pain but instead you saw Namjoon hunched over holding his face. You saw blood dripping through his fingers. Guilt hit you like a runaway train. Even Tony looked shocked. You ran over to Namjoon, frantically apologizing. 

“Take him to the infirmary.” Mrs. Bradshaw called from the other side.

“Namjoon, you gotta stand up and tilt your head back for me.” you said, rubbing his back. “I got it. I got it.” his voice came out nasally from him pinching his nose in an attempt to get the bleeding to stop. He stood up and groaned as you two made your way to the infirmary. 💨 Namjoon laid back on the examiners table with gauze in his nose trying to slow down the bleeding. The nurse at the camp seemed to be in awe of your toss. You have a very powerful throw. She complimented you and apologized to Namjoon for being on the receiving end of the ball. It had been ten minutes and he was still bleeding. Even though it was still a lot it was then it was less than what it was when he first got hit. You remained by his side, the guilt of accidentally hitting him that hard wouldn’t let you leave.

“Namjoon, I am so sorry for hitting you that hard. I swear it wasn’t on purpose.” you apologized again.

“Don’t feel bad this is just the universe delivering me my karma for being a dick to you all these years. The universe is balancing itself back out.” he joked.

“If anything it’s from when you told me break a leg before the relay races when I was fourteen and then I actually broke my ankle.” 

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re still holding on to that?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you.

“I am most definitely still holding on to that.” 

Namjoon laughed and shook his head.”You are certainly a piece of work.” “That I may be.” You said, taking a spin. “Honestly I didn’t mean to hit you. I was trying to hit that twerp Tony.” You took Namjoon’s hand in yours.

“It’s okay. You’ve explained this to me at least fifteen times in the last ten minutes.” he rubbed, his thumb over yours. 

“It’s just that I feel bad. After our conversation got all heavy last night I didn’t want you to think that I did that to be spiteful.”

Namjoon sat up on the examiners table to look into your eyes. He smiled at you. He took a deep breath that didn’t really come off like a true deep breath and more like a content sigh. “The painkillers kicking in?” you chuckled.

“Yes” Namjoon nodded slowly “that’s besides the point. I guess it’s kind of my fault for suggesting a volleyball player throw during dodgeball. I set myself up for this one.” “No it was me being a dick to a teenager.” “Well if we sit here going back and forth between who;s fault we’ll probably never make it to freshman orientation.” he laughed. “How bout we both blame it on Tony?” you questioned, throwing up a pinky for him to loop his around. “You do pinky promises? I wouldn’t have expected you to.” he looped his pinky around yours. 

“There’s a lot you wouldn’t expect me to do.” you said, lowly. “Oh really?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow at you.

“Barf me out. Namjoon get your mind out of the gutter and get your priorities straight. You have a nose full of bloody gauze. You’re gross.” you shook your head at him. “It’s not that gross. Plus you caused this.”

“No remember the pinky promise said that Tony caused this.” Namjoon nodded his head remembering the agreement you two had just came to thirty seconds ago. “It’s almost dried up.” he pulled the stained gauze out of his nose, examining it. “Good maybe the guilt can leave me alone.” you mumbled. Namjoon took one of the clean gauzes wiping off his nose. 

“Did you give a thought to our conversation?” Namjoon asked, quietly. Had you? It had only been a night and some change. Well at least not a full night for you. You tended to have a habit of violently overthinking just about every aspect of your life. Now the situation with Namjoon magnified it. You barely got any sleep last night. Thinking about every encounter you had with him. Sure enough he could be a good person, the behavior had just seemed biased towards you. Starting off anew couldn’t be the worse decision. If push came to shove you two were going off to college. You could just stop talking to him and completely cut him off.

But did you really not want him around. You had to force yourself to look at him. You were worried about the expression he donned. When you looked at Namjoon he had a neutral expression on his face. You sighed.

“So how are we doing this? Phone calls? Letters? What?” you smiled.

“You’re giving me a chance?” he smiled back.

“One” you held your pointer finger up. “Only one. Be very careful with it.” you whispered, as if people were around to hear your conversation.

“I promise you I will. I’ll call you even if I have to sacrifice my quarters for the wash to talk to you. I’ve got years of lost time to make up for.” he grabbed both of your hands, holding them tightly. You swung your arms. “I promise to write you letters I’ll use the finest of bic ink pens for you.” Namjoon laughed at you. “Can I ask you a question?” you hummed in response. “Can I kiss you?” you blinked a couple of times. Kiss? The word ran through your brain like headlines at the bottom of the screen during the 6 o’ clock news. “I’m sorry. Am I being too forward? Is it too soon? I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.” Namjoon rambled. He was in the middle of still vocalizing his thoughts when you cut him off with a quick peck. Namjoon jumped back away from you. You jumped back too.

“Wait was I being too forward? I thought you wanted a kiss?” you asked, smacking him lightly on the arm.

“No no I did. It’s just I was talking I thought you would have let me finish talking first. It caught me off guard. Wait let’s try that again I’m ready now.” Namjoon puckered up and leaned in. You stopped his mouth holding up your hand.He opened his eyes looking at you in confusion.

“We got the rest of the summer to get it right.” you said.

“The rest of the summer?”

“Oh I’m sorry did you think I was gonna run up my parents bill talking on the phone with you every day. We all don’t come from money.” you said.

“Alright now. If I had to I’d foot the bill.” 

You laughed. “Jeez louise, Namjoon just drive to my house, it's not that serious.” 

“You got it, tiger.” he wrapped your fingers up in a pinky promise that he pressed a kiss to.

Summer was definitely your favorite season.

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

CARRY ON MY WAYWARD SON IS JUST THE WHOLE MOOD FOR 2020, CAN WE ALL AGREE ON THAT?

Oh boy, guys, it’s here. The end. The very end. Tonight, Supernatural says goodbye for real this time. Maybe. Who really ever knows. But I’m not great at goodbyes, so instead let’s go back to the very beginning. It’s Supernatural!

So I’m here, at the season finale of Season 1. Very conveniently on the same day that the show is on the series finale of Season 15. It’s like I planned it, you guys! I did not plan this. 

Also, let’s take a minute to appreciate the irony of using Carry On My Wayward Son in every season finale when the Winchesters will never be done, they’ll never have peace, they will never lay their weary heads to rest. Don’t mind me, I’m just laughing til I cry. 

I genuinely think of the the last two episodes of Season 1 - “Salvation” and “Devil’s Trap” - as if they’re one episode. This is because a) I think they are designed to be a two-parter and b) they’re the only two episodes on the last disc of my box set BUT I think it’s important to note that these two episodes did not air on the same night. There was a week between them and that is...rough for an audience watching in real time. But when I watched it the first time, I was watching this exact dvd disc and of course I plowed right on through the cliffhanger in “Salvation” until the literal car crash that ends “Devil’s Trap”.

This disc! Right here! That has the real soundtrack on it, UNLIKE SOME STREAMING SERVICES!

Let’s look at a couple things: 

Way back in 2006 when these episodes aired, Supernatural’s success was average at best? Even though it’s the 5th most watched show on the WB, it’s averaged a little more than 3 million American viewers per episode, which at the time, wasn’t great. In contrast, the #1 show of the 2005/2006 TV year was American Idol season 1 - an average of 12.7 million viewers per episode. So it’s not exactly a winner of a show, but it’s not too far behind the WB’s #1 show, Smallville, which averaged around 4 million viewers per episode. Still, Supernatural’s fate was uncertain. “Devil’s Trap” aired on May 4, 2006, but the show didn’t get renewed for season 2 until May 18. That’s two weeks of cliffhanger limbo, and lemme tell you, that would have been a real slap in the tits if the show had been cancelled. 

Even further back, though, in January of 2006, it was announced that the WB and UPN would be renouncing their independence and merging under CBS and Time Warner company into what we know today as The CW. It was a network that was frankensteined together from the only working pieces of both networks and honestly I think that was a big reason Supernatural did get renewed. The CW was in need of some kind of programming to kick off the 2006 Fall Season and they greenlit new seasons for 13 of WB’s and UPN’s established programs. For a real blast from the past, here is their list of inaugural shows - 

7th Heaven (WB)

Beauty and the Geek (WB) 

Gilmore Girls (WB) 

One Tree Hill (WB)

Reba (WB)

Smallville (WB)

Supernatural (WB)

America's Next Top Model (UPN)

Veronica Mars (UPN)

Everybody Hates Chris (UPN

Girlfriends (UPN)

All of Us (UPN)

WWE SmackDown! (UPN)

I think my favorite part of this list is that both Gilmore Girls AND Smallville were still on the air, arguably the origin stories for Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles respectively. 

However, there’s evidence that Supernatural was in less danger of cancellation than you might think. In March, around about “Hellhouse” time, Supernatural gets moved from a Tuesday air date to a Thursday air date. If you follow American network TV at all, then you’ll know that Thursday is THE day. Historically, Networks believed this was the best day for programming. Advertisers paid extra for the combination of influencing your weekend plans and also influencing you before the weekend since you’re less likely to be watching TV and more likely to be spending money. Friends aired on Thursdays. Grey’s Anatomy is a Thursday show. Putting Supernatural on Thursday would indicate that the WB had some faith in it, although it’s possible they were simply removing something else that wasn’t working in that 9pm time slot. 

Ratings aside, once we get to the finale Supernatural has a good thing going, and it seems critics agreed. I think the back half of season 1 is where the show really starts to shine and take on the semblance of what it will become. This is where you see it shift from Monster-of-the-Week, anthology-style, to episodes that focused more on character - what I like to call the Feelings Episodes. That’s not to say there won’t be a ton more Monster-of-the-Week episodes, just that those are the B-story line, less important than the Winchesters-Working-Through-Trauma A-story lines. There’s also a greater emphasis on the overarching mythos and story arc of the season in the back half. This is ultimately what carries Supernatural into season 2 and beyond. Everyone from critics to series creator Kripke agreed that the episodes that focused more on the relationships and the internal struggles of the Winchesters was what really captured audiences. 

And all that gooey feelings stuff really comes to a head in the one-two punch that is “Salvation” and “Devil’s Trap”. 

UGH. FEELINGS.

The day of reckoning is finally here - the Winchesters finally know who they’re after, where to go, and how to kill it. Thanks to Sam’s Oh yeah! He’s got ESP!, they know exactly who’s gonna get hit next. The search is finally over, the battle’s about to begin. But it’s not just the Quest that’s winding down, it’s a bunch of character arcs that are coming to light as well. In fact, the Quest really does get pushed aside in favor of big character moves.

John Winchester, hyperfixated on revenge for the past 20 years, is finally close to resolving his grief and guilt over Mary’s death and the way he raised his kids. He tells his sons “whatever it takes” and we know he means it. This plays out in his decision to split up the team, in his willingness to sacrifice his own life so his boys have the opportunity to kill the demon they’ve been hunting all season. 

Who’s fault was THAT, you piece of shit.

Sam Winchester’s own feelings of guilt and grief are also on the cusp of absolution. We see just how similar Sam and John really are, specifically in their reactions to fridged girlfriends lost loves. For the first time this season, Sam follows John’s orders without question or complaint. He doesn’t hesitate to risk his own life to kill the demon, willing to literally walk into fire for a second shot at it. Sam’s here to do whatever it takes, and it’s only because of Dean that he doesn’t. 

Dean, on the other hand, is finally struggling with following John’s orders. I love the scene where John yells specifically at Dean when he finds out about Sam’s visions (watch John’s eyeline, he is NOT looking at Sam on that line) 

Exhibit A, because this show has turned me into a 19YO Stan again and I hate it.

and Dean yells back, pointing out that they were in much more dire straights than death omens and John never picked up the phone, not once, not even when Dean was dying. 

It’s TRUE and he SHOULD SAY IT! And seriously, John, even MEG knows you don’t answer voicemails, that’s why she calls Sam.

More importantly, Dean is not willing to do whatever it takes if whatever it takes means losing what he already has. Dean, who was so gung ho about finding mom’s killer in the beginning of the season, understands better than ever what he stands to lose if he lets his family continue on this path. It’s a real reversal of his attitude from the beginning of the show, but the about-face has happened so gradually over the last 22 episodes that it doesn’t feel out of left field. 

Because that’s what you get when you put Sam and Dean together on a cross-country road trip for nine months! The two grow and change just by proximity and the sheer number of hours they spend in the car together. Over the course of 22 episodes, Dean reminds Sam why they do what they do - saving lives - and Sam reminds Dean what and who they do it for - family, safe and sound and living their best life now. John’s got his own thing going on, so who even cares what his motivations are, I don’t, hurry up and get out of here, John, nobody likes you. 

That being said, “Devil’s Trap” starts with a pretty ruthless Dean performing an exorcism on Meg. He’s not dicking around this episode, and based on the fight he has with Sam in “Salvation”, it makes sense. Dean won’t do whatever it takes just for vengeance, but he will do whatever it takes to save someone, especially if those lives are his brother and his father. You could even extend that motivation into his decision to exorcise the demon and essentially kill Meg Masters - she may be dying, but she’s been saved from being a human meat puppet and unwilling participant to any number of evil things. 

In other news, Bobby Singer is a National Treasure and the Best Part of this Episode and Maybe All Episodes. He doesn’t have a lot going on in this episode, he’s just amazing and I love him forever. 

I had to pull a still from the episode because lookit this glorious mullet that he loses immediately, thank GOODNESS!

After getting a reality check from Dean in “Salvation,” Sam’s still struggling to figure out where he is on this spectrum, and you get to watch him make that decision in real time. He has the choice to be like John, to do whatever it takes to kill the demon, even though that means killing his own father. And he does not hesitate to aim when John tells him to shoot to kill, and that says a LOT. 

But it’s Dean who convinces Sam not to lose himself in this fight, even when he’s so close to winning it. It’s Dean’s tiny little “Sam, no!” that makes Sam put the gun down, and that ALSO says a LOT. 

It also hits me right in my heart meats, just OOF. 

And THEN, just when you think the Winchesters are at their lowest, beat to shit and barely holding on, THEN the show delivers its final blow: they crash a semi into the Impala. 

Listen, I watch a lot of garbage, and I watch that garbage on purpose. Sometimes, that’s just what you want. I don’t rate movies and tv shows on a good to bad scale anymore because some bad movies are GREAT and some good movies are just really terrible and I don’t like watching them. I’ve started talking about movies and tv in terms of whether or not I enjoyed them. Does it spark joy? Will it spark joy in others? 

My legitimate reaction to anything that looks like a dumpster fire.

I enjoy Supernatural. A LOT. And maybe it’s just because my calibration settings are off, but I’d also argue that this season is good. As in, it’s well-crafted, satisfying and (mostly) logical storytelling. Is it perfect? No. It’s a show that aired on the WB in 2005. And when I watched this for the first time in 2008, I didn’t dig too deep into character arcs or story structure, I just liked watching two hot guys fight ghosts and sometimes cry a little. Twelve years later, watching it with a more experienced eye and a more refined palette - er, well, maybe just more educated palette -  I can see the skill that went into crafting this 22-episode long story. 

Well, skill and and a little bit of sheer dumb luck. Cuz remember when I said that Kripke and Co. figured out that the Feelings Episodes ended up doing better than the Monster-of-the-Week episodes? That wasn’t until after they realized what a gift they’d been given in their two leads. It was the chemistry between Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki that both sold the show at the outset and built the foundation for seasons to come. Viewers cared about the show because they cared about the characters. They wanted to see these two beautiful dumpster fires struggle and overcome their internal battles way more than their external ones. If you need proof - I did not once talk about the Yellow-Eyed-Demon motives or plans from this episode. I barely even mention the quest, unless it’s in relation to how the characters are handling it, emotionally, and how that’s impacting others around them. When you come down to it, Supernatural is a show about a family struggling to survive just as much as it is about two guys saving the world, and that’s something that any audience can relate to. I’m never gonna perform an exorcism or face down angels and demons to stop the apocalypse. But I am gonna struggle with insecurity and doubt, grief and anger and family drama. That’s the human element. That’s what connects you to these characters. And when you’re lucky enough to have two lead actors that really sell the hell out of the family dynamics, you're setting up for some serious television gold. 

Fifteen years after this season aired, both of these elements - the story-crafting AND the luck - are more important than ever. No matter what show you’re watching, when you get to a season finale, that finale needs to feel like a set of dominos tipping over. It needs to feel like you’ve set up for that final confrontation both externally (the quest arc) and internally (the character arc). It needs to feel satisfying and motivated when those dominos finally fall. Most importantly, you need to make sure your audience cares about why they’re falling in the first place. Who cares about anybody’s arc if you haven’t built that character connection with your audience in the first place? 

For a TV show looking ahead to season two, all that resolution also needs to ask more questions. It needs to propel us through one conflict and into another. That’s what the finale of this season does. It threads the needle into that sweet spot between conclusion and new beginning. Will our heroes live or die? Will the yellow-eyed demon be defeated? What’s next? And on this side of 2020, how did they keep that momentum going for more than a decade? 

I can’t think of any current show right now that I would follow for 15 years. Hell, I didn’t even follow this show for 15 years. But the longevity of Supernatural means that they’ll be the template for any show looking to last even half as long as they did. And no matter how you feel about this show, you’ve gotta admit that’s heckin’ WILD. 

[colourthestarts]

Chemistry -ish?

The lesson to be learned is that sometimes the universe is merciful. That day Kuroo learned that lesson and promised that he will treat Lev better for as long as he can.

The reason for this is because during the lunch break on Tuesday y/n came up to Kuroo’s desk, sat down, gave him her chemistry test with the score of 84 and declared that she needs help.

“You do know that this is a good score?” Kuroo asked. Despite that he wanted to hang out with y/n and to get to know her better, there really was no need for it if she had good grades.

“Considering that almost all of your grades are in high 80s and 90s you should know that good does not cut it for same people. I do get good grades in chemistry, but I cannot do better because I do not understand it whatsoever. Mika said that you are really good at it and the grades show that too. So if you got the time and want to I am asking for your help. If you say no, no hard feelings. Think about it.”

By the end of the day Kuroo said yes and they agreed to study Thursdays after his practice and Saturdays midday. They exchanged their numbers and agreed that they’ll figure out the time and other stuff later.

Y/N 17:49 Hey, it’s y/n. Are you good to study this Thursday cause I don’t mind.

Kuroo 17:51 Hey, yeah Thursday is good.

Y/N 17:52 Um, so do you want to come over mine or should I come to yours? Cause I thought maybe it would be easier if I come to yours on Thursday so you just have to travel home and can get some rest or something?

Crap, Kuroo was actually unsure. He did not want to make y/n uncomfortable as his dad would always be home late. But with volleyball and being a captain its quite time consuming to travel. Little did he know y/n was also freaking out similarly. She’s not used to ask for help and she did not want burden Kuroo with her nonsense. Plus he must be busy. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

Kuroo 18:04 I think Thursday would be easier at mine and then Saturday at yours?

Y/N 18:05 Yeah sure. Thanks again.

Kuroo 18:06 No problem.

Both of them thought how awkwardly they ended this conversation.

But awkwardness didn’t end there. It was very much present during the first session. It took them a while to decide where to start cause y/n truly did not understand chemistry despite her good grades. He was also surprised to see that the calm collected girl had a morbid sense of humour and kept making remarks of throwing herself of a building and just wanting to cry.

“Think like a proton and stay positive.” Kuroo said encouragingly.

By the third session Kuroo wanted to give up with y/n. They almost got in a full blow argument somehow.

“How do you not understand this y/n. This is basic chemical bonds.”

“I just don’t understand bonding!”

“Yeah… clearly.” Kuroo replied with his hands on his face. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. This one was a different type of frustration. A type where she just wouldn’t open up to him not even a little.

“What does that mean?”

“…it’s nothing…”

“ohhh no, please elaborate cause apparently we have a problem.”

“…”

“Okay then.” Y/n stood up and started to pack. Before she left his room, he attempted at something.

“Listen.” She turned around and look straight at him.

“I am listening.” When he didn’t make another sentence, she added before leaving “Thanks for the help. See you at school.”

Friday didn’t go well, neither one talked that day much. The whole classroom felt the chill from both, but no gossip emerged as there was no basis for it. Y/n looked genuinely pissed the whole day and scared few first years who were blocking the stairs while chatting. Kuroo took his feelings out during practice on poor Lev. His appreciation to the universe was over. Yaku and even Kenma told him to go home and relax. Later in the evening Mika texted him on what happened cause apparently y/n went back to isolation. About an hour later he explained what happened and all Mika replied with was that he should NOT have kept his mouth shut. What did that even mean? The rest of the night Kuroo laid in bed and sulked. Not really understanding the girl. He started to think that maybe he did not really like her.

On Saturday he went to Kenma’s not much in a better mood. And Kenma didn’t want to get involved in this for two reasons. 1. The new video game. 2. He didn’t know how to help. So an hour later Bokuto and Akaashi also appeared in Kenma’s room.

“So she just left?” Bokuto asked dumb folded after hearing the story.

“Yeah. She said thanks and see you at school. That’s all I got.” Kuroo answered while throwing volleyball up in the air.

“Maybe she didn’t want to argue?” Akaashi offered.

“It wasn’t an argument. She just picked something up from me.” When Bokuto and even Akaashi looked at him confused he attempted to further explain “It’s been awkward between us and she just comes in, I teach her, she says her thanks and leaves. Like there is no room for additional chats. It just made me think this is futile and I should give up on pursuing her… and then Mika said I should not have kept quiet.”

“Ehh this sounds confusing to me. Y/n is really straightforward when we text, she apologises for her bluntness, but she also said she feels uncomfortable in just being nice for the sake of it.” Bokuto said while laying back on the floor.

But this actually almost clicked with Kuroo. Maybe she did pick something from him, but maybe the bigger issue was that he did not say what it was. Maybe she wanted to clear out the air or something?

“I think I got it.”

“You do?” Akaashi inquired.

“Yeah. I think… I should just tell her.”

“You’re going to confess?!” Bokuto exclaimed.

“I’m gonna tell her what was my problem with her.”

“You wanna fight with her more?”

“Trust me, this will work. I think.”

“I guess we’ll wait and see.” Akaashi said.

 On Sunday Kuroo was outside y/n house. He didn’t think much beyond packing chemistry books, even if he was not supposed to be teaching, and just getting there. Now he almost wanted to leave if not for a male voice scaring him behind.

“Can I help you?”

When Kuroo turned around he was met with an older male guy who was just a bit shorter than him. He was a bit bigger in build, dark hair and appeared to be in his early twenty’s. Overall, intimidating but not scary.

“I um I’m here to see y/n. My name is Kuroo. We’re classmates at Nekoma.”

“I know where my sister studies.” Sister? Wait. Y/n had a brother. She never mentioned him. Kuroo never saw him or her parents.

“Right…”

“You’re the chemistry guy.” Came the conclusion. So she did mention him to her brothers. “Don’t you usually teach on Saturday’s?”

How does he explain this one when he’s not quite sure what’s gonna happen. Before replying her brother muttered a ‘whatever’ and passed him then added for him to follow in.

Unlike last time, this time the house seemed more lively. There was music on and he could smell someone was cooking pancakes. Kuroo assumed she was awake until he followed er brother into the kitchen and was met with another guy.

“Kisho, you can wake her up. She kicked me and went back to sleep. I give up.” Then he turned around, noticed Kuroo and yelled. “Oi, there is a difference between picking up stay cats and humans you moron!”

“It’s not like that Norio! This is the chemistry guy.”

Kuroo was in a bit of shock. So she had two brothers who seemed to love to bicker. He also felt awkward in this situation. He would almost prefer to go argue with y/n or something.

Also did one of them say she was asleep? It’s 1pm.

“You, sit down. Want coffee?” Said Norio. Kuroo immediately complied and nodded. He was used to living almost alone. His dad was working late, mom was not around and he had no siblings. Just lovely grandparents. So this was a weird authority figure. He noticed that the other brother seemed to go upstairs to wake y/n up. And apparently Norio noticed him thinking.

“Sorry, she does not have a sleeping pattern. A horrible insomniac. I’m Norio by the way. The less attractive brother is Kisho.” The guy stated as he put down a mug for Kuroo who accepted the drink. It was strong. Apparently strong coffee love runs in this family.

“I’m Kuroo, third year and y/n classmate.” Panic. What else is he supposed to say.

“You’re pretty tall! Almost as tall as me. What club are you in?”

“I’m the captain of the volleyball team.”

“Hey, I was one too in the third year! What a cool coincidence. Is Nekomata sensei still around teaching?” Norio smiled brightly.

“Yeah, he’s doing great.”

“That’s good. You’re not far off competition season are you?”

“Yeah, we had a practice match last week. Y/n and Mika went.”

“Ehhh why would you do that? Girls don’t like waiting for so long. Just invite them to proper matches.”

“Yeah, I think I learned that one last week.”

“Don’t mind, both of them get over stuff quickly. So how come you’re here on a Sunday?”

“Ahh… we didn’t study yesterday.”

“I see. So she overslept.”

“Not exactly.”

“I did not.”

Oh. She was here. Kuroo turned around and saw y/n in a purple nightgown, but under it he could see her pink and violet vertical stripped pyjamas. Her hair was completely down, she had her glasses on. If not for the very tired expression, he would have said that she was looking absolutely lovely. Before Kuroo could say a proper hi, she grabbed her brother’s coffee and told Kuroo to follow her upstairs.

Obviously they were going to her room. And he was never there, they only studied in the living room. But to be honest he would rather go to y/n’s room than have the conversation next to her brothers. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but it looked neat. She had a collection of books and cd’s, her bed was made and she had a lot of pillows. Her table was clean, but he could see that the chemistry book was on there.

“Why are you standing, go sit on the bed. If I’ll sit there I’ll fall right back asleep.” While Kuroo took his seat, y/n also sat down on the chair. After a minute she asked. “Why are you here?”

“I came to apologise about Thursday.”

“You have nothing to apologise for.”

“Well I still wanna explain.” After a minute Kuroo continued. “You’re a hard person to teach chemistry.”

“True.”

“And. Look. It has just been awkward and you don’t really talk to me besides chemistry so it shard to be friends with you.”

“That’s because I don’t want to bother you more than already am.”

“What?”

“We’re both third years, and we have the college prep classes. But you also have volleyball and you’re the captain so you must be busy. So I thought that I shouldn’t bother you with anything extra. And we can be friends. I mean you’re already friends with Mika so honestly it would be hard to avoid you even if I did my best. Now your turn. Do you wanna stop teaching me chemistry”

“I don’t. It would be nice if we can just chat once in a while not about it.”

“Yeah we can do that.”

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah.”

…

“Can I ask another thing?”

“Go on. ”

“Why did you leave like that?”

“… I didn’t know what was happening. I though you might explain but you didn’t so I decided to take myself out of the situation. For stuff like that I prefer to know what’s happening so I know how to react.”

“So if something happens again I should tell you?”

“Not unless you want to. That’s your choice. Just like its mine to leave the situation.”

“Seems fair. You seem pretty calm about this whole thing.”

“Not Friday. Almost killed two first years.”

“Yeah some of the classmates saw that one.” Kuroo chuckled.

And that was that. After resolving the situation Kuroo went home. And Monday was back to normal. Even better, cause now they would say hi in corridors and occasionally y/n and Mika would come by to chat or even eat together.  

Kuroo again thanked the universe.

[eiirisworkshop]

Untitled Shameless Fanfic

For Good Intentions WIP Fest, details of which can be found @goodintentionswipfest

This is from when I first started watching Shameless (US) and is set during season 1.  I’ve abandoned the story because the set up has been OBE as I watched more, I just really wanted good things for Ian.

It ends pretty abruptly, but at a point that probably would have been a scene or chapter break.

***

Fiona was yelling at Carl, Lip and Debs were yelling at each other, Liam had decided to join the squawking.  Ian looked around at his siblings, ears ringing, and decided to go for a goddamn walk.  A couple blocks from home he saw Frank passed out in a lawn chair in a front yard, a still mostly full bottle of Jäger under his arm.  Ian watched a dribble of drool drip onto Frank's shirt, then grabbed the bottle and kept walking.  He wandered to the lake front without much thinking about it—seemed like everyone just wound up there to daydream, to freak out, to sulk, to rage at the universe, which someone seemed to be doing right now.  There were tire tracks in the snow leading to a red Jaguar SUV.  Footprints lead away from the driver's side door to a man standing on the ice in a blue peacoat, throwing hunks of compacted snow and ice at the edge of the water, screaming at the sky.

“You think I fucking wanted this?!” he shouted, throwing a handful of ice.  “I didn't!  Nobody asked me!  I'm so fucking sorry I'm an embarrassment!” he said, voice dripping with malicious sarcasm.  He kicked at a snowbank.  “Jesus fucking bullshit.”

“You okay, man?” Ian called from a few yards away.

“Fuck you,” the driver of the red SUV spat.  “Fuck you, fuck my parents, fuck Reverend Arnold, fuck my stupid fucking bitch of a sister, fuck that backstabbing whore, fuck the office of the bursar, and fuck it's cold!”  He kicked at more snow.

“Dude, it's March in Chicago, of course it's cold,” Ian said.  He'd picked his way across the snow and ice while the man was ranting.  He held out the bottle of Jäger. “I think you need this more than my dad does.”

The man eyed him skeptically.  Damn, he was cute—dark wavy hair, warm tan skin with barely there freckles, complicated green-brown eyes.  He grabbed the bottle and took a swig.  “God's got one hell of a sense of humor,” he muttered darkly.  “Of fucking course some pretty boy shows up when that is the last fucking thing I want to think about.”  He turned back to the water and gestured broadly at Ian.  “It's shit like this that landed me here in the first place!”

Ian arched an eyebrow.  “I'm pretty?”

“Fuck you, you look like a Gaelic-American wetdream,” he spat. “Could probably make a killing in porn, there's gotta be overlap in the audiences for ginger and twink.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian snarled, stepping forward to give the jackass in the peacoat a shove.

“Fucking make me.”  He shoved Ian back.  So, since there was no one around, Ian kissed him.  Hard.  And didn't immediately get punched out, so that was a good thing.  Even better, jackass kissed him back.  When they broke apart for air, he gave Ian a shove toward the SUV.  “In the car.”

Ian stood panting, his breath turning to mist in the cold air while his new favorite stranger opened the hatchback, shoved some duffle bags and other things out of the way, and folded the rear seats flat.  He grabbed Ian by the sleeve, dragged him up into the car, reached up to yank the hatch shut, then resumed kissing him roughly.  It didn't take long for their jackets to be shoved haphazardly into the next row of seats, pants down around their knees.  Ian's fingers found their way to his fling's ass, but he got Ian by the wrist. “Oh, I don't think so, buddy.”

“I do,” Ian breathed.

“My car.”

“My Jäger.”

“Thought you said it was your dad's.”

Ian paused then gave a recalcitrant shrug.  “Okay, fair.”

He pushed Ian onto his back, stretched across the seats to open the glovebox where he had a stash of condoms and lube—apparently this was not his first rodeo—then he was on Ian and his boxers were not.

He had a dense black and white and red tattoo over one hip and down along his thigh, puzzle pieces and celtic knots and feathers and spiderwebs all blending one into the other and somehow forming a bouquet of roses bound with a ribbon.  Ian didn't get as long of a look at it as he would have liked, but then he really didn't care because holy fuck this guy was good.

Afterward, Ian watched a cloud drift across the moon through the tinted rear window.  “I get the feeling you wouldn't appreciate it if I smoked in your car.”

“I'd throw your naked ass out in the snow,” the stranger said.  It made Ian smirk. The stranger was sitting up against the sidewall of the SUV, head tipped back against the window, eyes closed, legs tangled with Ian's, the bottle of Jäger in one hand.  “What'd you say your name was again?”

“I didn't.”

“I know.”  He opened his eyes.  “So what is it?”

“Ian.”

“Ian, huh?”  He fiddled with the label.  “I'm Dallas.”

Ian nodded.  He grabbed his boxers, then his jeans.

“You're leaving?” Dallas asked quietly.

Ian shrugged.  “Gonna smoke then go home. Not about to stay the night in the back of a stranger's car.  No offense.”

“None taken.”  Dallas watched him dress then fight for a minute figuring out how to open the hatch from the inside.  He had stepped out and was just about to shut it when Dallas said, “Hey, you live around here?”

Ian nodded.  “Yeah.”

“Maybe I'll see you around then.”

“Maybe.” Ian shrugged and felt his expression soften.  “Maybe, yeah.”  He closed the hatch.

“Where have you been?”  Fiona was waiting up for him when Ian got home, sitting on the washing machine in the dark, ready to ambush him.  “I was this close to putting together a search party for you.”

“I went for a walk,” Ian said, deftly sidestepping her with his still lit cigarette.  “I wasn't even gone that long, gimme a break.”

“No one knew where you went!” she hissed.  The younger kids must have been in bed already.  “And we have talked about smoking in the house.”

“Not in common areas, I know, I know.”  He held up his hands, backing up the stairs.  “I'm going to my room.”

The lights were all out upstairs, but once Ian had the bedroom door shut, Lip's groggy voice asked from just above and to his right, “Dude, where'd you go?”

Ian felt himself grin.  “Went for a walk, did the most amazingly stupid thing,” he said quietly.  He didn't want to wake Carl.  He did not want to deal with Carl.  Not right now.

The bunkbeds creaked slightly as Lip sat up.  “Shit, did you hire a hooker?”  He paused.  “Why is that the first thing I thought of? Are there even guy hookers?  I know in theory they exist but I don't think I've ever seen one.”

“I did not hire a hooker, male or female.”  Ian dropped onto his bed, took a drag on his cigarette, and let it out slowly.  

“So what did you do?”

“I fucked a total stranger in the back of his car.”

“Shit, Ian,” Lip breathed.  He sounded like he was torn between adulation and horror.  “Please tell me you wrapped it.”

“He did.”

“He did?  I thought you usually—”

“Usually, yeah.”  He nudged the window open just far enough to tap his ashes outside.  

“Damn. Why'd you do it?”

“I dunno.”  Ian exhaled.  “Just wanted to.”

“Fair enough, man, fair enough.”  Lip was quiet for a moment, then, “How was it?”

“Good. It was good.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah.” Ian finished his cigarette, flicked the butt out into the snow, and pulled the window closed.

The first Friday in April, Ian was walking home from school with Lip and Karen in all his ROTC gear—usually he only had to wear it on Thursdays, but there had been an assembly—when he spotted a red Jaguar SUV with quite a few dings and scratches and the front badge ripped off the grill parked in an overgrown empty lot on the corner. Ian stopped walking.  “Oh, that's not good.”

“Huh?” Lip asked.

“You remember that amazingly stupid thing I did?”

“Yeah?”

“That's the car.”

“Oh.” Lip eyed the Jag.  “Was it that banged up before?”

“No.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

“What's this about?” Karen asked.

“Don't worry about it,” Lip said as Ian picked through the slush and weeds.

He couldn't see through the tinted windows, so he rapped his knuckles on the glass of the rear driver's side door. “Dallas?”

There was some rustling from inside, then the door opened.  It was Dallas, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his hair unkempt.  He blinked at Ian.

“Oh, good.  You're not dead,” Ian said with genuine relief.

A smile tugged at Dallas's mouth.  “No, I'm not dead.  Look at you, all in uni—” he spotted Lip and Karen behind Ian and his face fell, “form….”

“What happened to your car?”

“Hooligans.” Dallas nodded around Ian.  “Who are they?”

“Oh, my brother and his...”  Ian turned to Lip and Karen, arms open questioningly, “his friend who's a girl who he fucks on a regular basis and cares deeply about, but is definitely not dating?”

“Sounds about right,” Lip said.

Karen nodded.

Dallas gave Ian a searching look he understood all too well: Do they know?

Ian shrugged.  “My brother's cool.”  He glanced behind Dallas—the same duffle bags were there, unzipped, clothes and books strewn around the back of the SUV on spread out blankets, all the seats folded flat.  “Are you living here?”

“So what if I am?” Dallas asked defensively.

Ian shrugged again.  “Hey, Lip, you go on home, okay?  I'll catch up.”

Lip arched an eyebrow, glanced at Karen, looped his arm through hers, and kept walking.  Dallas watched them go then his eyes flicked up to Ian's face.  “What are you doing?”

“Hey, you're the one who was hoping you'd see me around,” Ian pointed out.  

“I was having the worst day of my life when I said that,” Dallas said quickly.  “Wasn't exactly thinking clearly.  Which is probably why anything happened at all.  I don't do things like that.  And I'm letting all the cold in leaving the door open to talk to you, so—”

“If you let me in you could close the door.”

Dallas eyed him warily then moved back so Ian could climb in then pulled the door shut. “Why do you care?”

“I don't do things like that either,” Ian said simply, folding his long camo-clad legs under himself.  “I might have been sappily worrying about you the past couple weeks.”

“Really?”

“No.” Ian took off his hat.  “But I kinda wish I had been.”

“If you're trying to be cute, it's not working.”  He grabbed one of the open books from behind him, propped it on his knee, and started reading.

Ian twisted to try to look at the paige.  “What's that?”

“Psychology.” He sighed.  “I have a test Monday.”

“You're living out of your car and still going to...college?” Ian asked.

“Not gonna drop out mid-semester just because I got disowned.”

Ian straightened up.  “You got disowned?”

“Yeah, I got disowned.  Why the fuck else would I be living out of my car on the south side?” Dallas spat.

“Good point.”

Dallas huffed, snapped the book shut, and tossed it into the front seat. “Why are you here?  Why are you talking to me?  Why did you even stop?”

“Saw your car all banged up, first thought was something bad happened to you, and I'm not enough of an asshole not to give a shit,” Ian said.  “And now I might actually be hoping something else might happen.”

Dallas snorted.  “You don't seem desperate at all.”

“My options are limited around here,” Ian countered.  “In fact, I have two—one of them's married and the other one's in jail.  So, yeah.”

Dallas stared at him for a few seconds, then said,”Fuck it,” grabbed him by his jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss.  

After a few minutes, they weren't fucking again like Ian thought they might be; he wasn't getting another look at that complicated tattoo.  No, Dallas was crying.  Ian pulled back, eyes wide, unsure what to do. “Um.”

Dallas shook his head and wiped his eyes.  “Sorry.”  He sniffed and shook his head again.  “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“I don't think—”

Dallas cut him off, “Maybe you should go home.”

“I can—”

“You should go home,” Dallas said again, firmer.

Ian bit his lip, looked away, and nodded once.  “Right.  Well, I live a couple blocks down and one over.”  He put his hat back on.  “Little blue house from the thirties, old orange Minibus outside.  You can't miss it.”  He hesitated, brushed a tear from Dallas's cheek, kissed where it had been, let himself out, slammed the door behind him, and cursed under his breath all the way home.

Lip cornered him almost as soon as he'd gotten into the house. “So?” he whispered, glancing around to make sure none of their siblings were paying attention.  “Did you have another go?”

“No.” Ian shrugged his brother off and trudged up the stairs.  Lip followed him.  Ian slammed their bedroom door in his face.  Lip followed him in anyway.  Ian rolled his eyes and started changing out his uniform.  “We made out a little but then he started crying and told me to leave.” He crossed his arms and looked at Lip.  “He got disowned, he lives in that Jag.”

Lip's eyebrows shot up.  “Shit, man.  Disowned for being gay?”

Ian shrugged.  “I assume so.”

“Shit.” Lip looked him over.  “But you've got a crush, don't you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lip.”

He couldn't stop thinking about Dallas.  It was three in the morning, it had been more than a week since he'd seen the guy he'd spoken to exactly twice, but there he was, lying awake, thinking about him. He'd cared less after they'd fucked than after they'd just kissed. He didn't want to think about that.

He rolled over toward the window, away from his brothers, one thumb hooked in the waistband of his boxers.  He wanted to see more of that tattoo—it hurt his brain, he couldn't quite remember what it looked like, just an impression of puzzle pieces and roses was left in his head.  He wondered if Dallas's dark-on-dark freckles were only across his cheekbones and nose or if they were everywhere else like his own—he hadn't had a chance to really look, and with the low contrast in the dim light he couldn't tell.  He wanted to know what the hell Dallas was to be the color he was—he wasn't black, his hair and features made that much clear, but he sure as hell wasn't white either.  Dallas had mentioned a sister when he was screaming at the sky.  Ian wondered if she were older or younger, if she was the only sibling Dallas had.  He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd seen Dallas had earring holes.  He wanted to know if he was right, and if he was, he wanted to see him with jewelry in.  He wanted to taste Dallas's skin again, sink his teeth into one cafe-au-lait shoulder just enough to hurt, watch the expression in those green-brown eyes as he took him.

He really wanted to not share his room with his brothers right now.

He got up and locked himself in the bathroom.  He sat on the toilet with the lid down, eyes closed, head back as he touched himself, biting his lip to keep himself quiet.  He remembered the soft, uncalloused hands on his neck, his chest; long fingers in his hair, inside him; warm mouth on his, at his pulse; those eyes, those eyes….

His head swam.  He cursed quietly and just sat there.  He hadn't obsessed like this since—well, ever.  Brad Pitt didn't count.  Brad Pitt wasn't a real person.  Not really.  More like an idea of person.

He cleaned himself up, tucked himself back into his shorts, and went back to bed.  He still didn't sleep.

His lust-induced insomnia—because, fuck it, that's what it was—didn't get any better as days then weeks passed with no sign of the red Jag or its looker of an owner.  If anything, it got worse.

Fiona caught him by the arm as he stepped around her while she did laundry. “Hey, are you doing okay?  You don't look so good.  You been sleepin'?”

He sighed and closed his eyes.  He could lie, say he was fine, but she would know.  Fiona always knew.  “Not really, no.”

“What's a matter?” she asked with the kind of gruff tenderness she reserved for when she was really concerned.

He shrugged and looked around, more out of habit than anything else.  He knew no one else but Liam was home.  Even so, he lowered his voice.  “There's a guy.”

Fiona blinked.  “Oh.  Fuck.  Okay.”

Ian shook his head.  “I can't think about anything else and it's keeping me up and I just want, so bad, I don't know, to see him?  To fuck him?  Anything.”

“Shit, you've got it bad.”

Ian nodded, eyes on the floor.

“So,” Fiona crossed her arms and settled her weight into one hip, “who is this guy?  D'you know him from school or something?”

“I, uh,” Ian cringed, “I've only talked to him twice.”

“Oh, fuck,” Fiona sighed.  “Must have been quite the couple of conversations.”

“Yeah….”

“Does this guy have a name or do you not know?”

“Dallas.”

“Any lastname?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, a first name is better than no name.”  She chewed on her lip.  “Not too great that you're losing sleep over a guy you hardly know, though.”

“I can't help it,” Ian said, tone more desperate that he'd've liked it to be.

“I know,” Fiona breathed.  She clapped his shoulder and rubbed.  “Been there.”

Ian took a deep breath and huffed.  “Boys suck.”

Fiona snorted.  “Oh, I know.  I have four little brothers, remember?”

He grinned.  She laughed.  He laughed too.

She punched his shoulder and gave him a gentle shove.  “Why don't you take some NyQuil and try to get in a nap while the house is quiet for once.”

“That,” he sighed, “is a good idea.”

He scrounged in the cabinets for the NyQuil and took a shot of it. Fiona swatted him on the ass with a dirty T-shirt as he passed on his way to the stairs.  “Get some sleep.”

Almost a month later, with the snow mostly melted but the weather not yet warmed up, there was a knock at the front door.  Fiona extricated herself from the gaggle of Gallaghers in front of the TV to answer the door.  She opened it just enough to face whoever had knocked without looking too rude. There was a boy standing on the porch, dark hair, dark skin, darker freckles, and a nice buttonfront shirt that looked like it had seen better days.  He fidgeted a little.  “Hey, uh, does Ian live here?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said slowly, eyeing him skeptically.  “Who's looking for him?”

“I'm Dallas.”  The boy bounced on the balls of his feet.  “We, uh, we've hung out a few times.”

“Right.” Fiona stepped back, half closing the door, and called, “Ian! Door!”

She waited for Ian to be just a step away before vacating the doorway herself.  Ian didn't take the last step to the door, just stared. “Dallas?”

“Hey,” Dallas said, not making eye contact.  “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” Ian said cautiously.  He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Look,” Dallas said, “I'm sorry for being all weird, last time we saw each other.”

“That was more than a month ago,” Ian pointed out sharply.

“I know.”  Dallas crammed his hands in his pockets.  “I've been really busy, with finals, so I've pretty much been living in the school library or crashing on classmates' couches studying.”

“Right.”

“But finals are over now,” Dallas said, sounding like he was trying to suppress an edge of panic in his voice.  “And I'm here.  So, uh, you wanna go for a walk?”

Ian glanced at the beat up Jaguar parked on the street.  “You're gonna leave that here?”

“Unless you don't think it'd be safe?” Dallas hedged.

Ian snorted, went to the door, stuck his head in, and called, “Hey, don't let anybody steal the red SUV out here!”  A chorus of agreements responded from the couch.  He yanked the door back shut and trotted down the steps without looking at Dallas.  “Let's go for a walk.”

Dallas followed, falling into stride a half step behind Ian, hands still shoved in his pockets.  Ian led them around a few blocks without speaking, ending up in a secluded cove under a railway bridge where he pressed Dallas up against a pillar and kissed him.  Dallas kissed back briefly, his hands on Ian's muscular chest, but then he pushed him away—not hard, but enough for Ian to get the idea and step back.  “Sorry,” Dallas breathed.  “I, uh, I'm really not in the best place mentally or emotionally to be screwing around.”  He closed his eyes and took a breath.  “Sorry.”

Ian groaned in frustration, paced away, and kicked an empty beer can.  “I haven't been able to sleep because I keep thinking about you and your stupid tattoo.”

“I haven't been able to sleep because I am homeless, broke, and now that my semester over and my dining hall privileges are up, I don't know where my next meal is coming from, so excuse my lack of sympathy,” Dallas shot back.

Ian snorted. “I've pretty much never known for sure if there was going to be food on the table the next day, so—” He shrugged.

Dallas sighed.  “Look, I'm not used to this.  It's scary and it sucks.”

Ian nodded quietly.  “Then why show back up?”

“Wanted to see you, wanted to apologize, wanted to talk.”  Dallas swallowed.  “I mean, I do like you.  Call me old-fashioned, though, but I'm generally a fan of the whole courtship thing.”

Ian smirked at him.  “You're old-fashioned.”

“Is that okay?”

Ian considered him a moment, then nodded.  “Yeah.”

Dallas smiled.  “I'm glad.”

“So, uh, since we're dating,” Ian said, leaning against the next pillar over and waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “wanna talk about your feelings or some shit?”

“Pretty much all different layers of stress,” Dallas said with a snort. “Need money, need a job, need to apply to scholarships cuz I am not going to be able to pay for next semester—I'm on academic hold.  If I can get the money together I can resume next spring, otherwise I'm out.”  He sighed, shrugged, and looked at Ian.  “You got plans for college or…?”

“Heh. Hoping to get into Westpoint,” Ian said with a little smile.  He shrugged one shoulder.  “Not sure my family is too thrilled, but it's more of a plan than any of them have.”

“Military, huh?”

Ian nodded.  “Marines.”

“Guess you haven't heard back yet?”

“Well, I haven't applied yet, so no.”

Dallas frowned.  “You haven't applied?”

“I'm not graduating yet.”

“You're not?”  Dallas's frown deepened and his forehead crinkled.  “Next year then?  You're a junior?”

“Actually,” Ian said carefully, shifting his weight, “I'm a sophomore.”

The color drained slowly from Dallas's face.  “How old are you?”

Ian rubbed the back of his leg with the toe of his sneaker.  “I'll be sixteen on the eleventh.”

Dallas put out a hand to steady himself against the pillar.  “You're fifteen?!”

Ian pursed his lips and nodded.

Dallas ran a hand over his face.  “You're, what, six foot tall?  And you look like you could bench a Fiat!  You cannot be fifteen.”

“I'm fifteen,” Ian said quietly, not looking at Dallas.

“I feel sick.”  Dallas turned and walked a few paces away, both hands over his face.  “I fucked a fifteen year old,” he mumbled to himself. “I'm so screwed.”

“Hey, it's really not that big a deal,” Ian objected.

“It's illegal!”  Dallas turned to face him.  “That's rape!”

“What are you talking about?”  Ian laughed in disbelief.  “I definitely did not tell you no.”

“You're underage!” Dallas said—he really did look like he might be sick, shit.  “It doesn't matter what you said, you're too young to give consent.”

“I knew what I was doing!”

“The law doesn't care!”

“The law doesn't need to know!” Ian snapped. “No one needs to know.”

Dallas slumped against the pillar, slid down it, and hid his head in his knees.  “I'm a child molester….”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.”  Ian stomped over and hauled Dallas up by the back of his shirt.  “Do I look like a child to you?”  He kissed him roughly, briefly pressing their bodies against one another.  “Do I feel like a child to you?”  He let go and took a step back.  “You seem to have plenty of actual bullshit to worry about, don't invent another problem for yourself, you dumbass.  No one, fucking no one, is going to charge you with rape.  What the fuck, man?”

Dallas shook his head.  “I can't do this.”

“You already did.”

“I know!”  He sucked in a sharp breath then gagged.  He braced himself against the pillar to retch.

“Jesus Christ.”  Ian reached out to rub his back but Dallas swatted his hand away.

“Please don't touch me,” he whispered, voice flat.

Ian took a step back.  “Dallas….”

“Don't touch me.”

“I'll be sixteen next week,” Ian said with desperate exasperation.

“And you'll still be underage,” Dallas said, clearly still distressed.

“Nobody cares.”  Ian held out his arms and shook his head.  “Do you realize what neighborhood you're in?  By thirteen, fourteen pretty much all of us drink, pretty much all of us smoke, and pretty much all of have had sex.  You grow up fast when you grow up poor. Anybody found out we fucked, we might get our asses kicked for being fags depending on who it was, but no one around here would even think about how old I am.  So chill out.”

Dallas leaned with his back to the pillar again, closed his eyes, dug his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath.

Ian walked deliberately over to him, letting his footsteps crunch in the gravel, gently disengaged Dallas's hands from his dark hair, twined their fingers, and pressed their foreheads together.  “Chill out, okay?”

Dallas took another breath, nodded best he could against Ian's forehead, bit his lip, and sniffed, tears starting to roll down his cheeks.  Ian sighed and hugged him.

“Sorry,” Dallas mumbled into Ian's shoulder.

“Shut up,” Ian said gently.  He leaned his cheek against Dallas's hair. Dallas's shoulders shook and Ian tightened his arms around him.

“My sister told them,” Dallas blurted after a while.

“Huh?” Ian pulled back enough to look at him.

Dallas wiped his eyes.  “My younger sister, she told my parents about me. We were all yelling at each other—me, my parents, both my sisters—fighting about everything and nothing, and my father said something to Indiana about her dressing like a slut—which is kind of true—and she said 'at least I don't go around sucking guys off in the back of my car like Dallas does.'”  He gave a cold, thin smile.  “Within an hour, they'd thrown me out of the house.”

“Shit,” Ian said.

“Yeah.” Dallas nodded and scrubbed his hand across his eyes again.  “Sorry for dumping that on you.  I just, hadn't actually told anyone what happened.”

“No, that's fine, but, dude, you've gotta stop apologizing so much.”

“S—”

“If you say you're sorry I sweat to God I'm gonna punch you,” Ian threatened, smiling.

Dallas snorted.  “Okay.”

Ian grinned and kissed him quickly.  “That's better.”

Once Dallas's eyes were a little less red, he and Ian walked back to the Gallagher house, elbowing each other along the way, a certain weight lifted between them.  They stopped next to Dallas's Jag.  He bounced on his toes.  “I have a meeting with the financial aid office early tomorrow, so I should probably go back to campus.”

Ian nodded.  “Right.  But, you'll be around, right?”

“Yeah.” Dallas flashed a little smile, touched Ian's arm, let himself into his car, and drove away.

Ian stood on the curb, watched until the beat up SUV was out of sight, then sighed.  For a moment, he was alone, then Fiona walked out to stand with him, Liam on her hip.  “So,” she said, “that's your guy?”

“Yeah,” Ian breathed.

“He's cute,” she observed, shifting her hold on Liam, who was chewing on his own fist.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed.

Fiona nodded slowly.  “So, is he black or what?”

“You know,” Ian said, “I have no idea.”

Her eyebrows ticked up.  “Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

The next Wednesday was the eleventh.  Ian came downstairs to find a slightly lopsided cake that Debs had gotten up at four that morning to make.

“You only get chocolate cake for breakfast because she insists,” Fiona said as she handed him a slice.  “Happy birthday.”

Ian grinned.  “Thanks.”

Lip smacked him in the back of the head.  “Happy spawning day, loser.”

Ian grinned.  “Thanks.”

He got wished happy birthday a couple dozen times at school, one of his teachers decided the whole class should sing to him, Mandy made a show of kissing him in front of everyone at lunch, but it was really a pretty dull day after the cake.  At least, it was until he and Lip turned onto their street after school to find the red SUV parked on the curb and Dallas sitting on the steps of the porch, a parcel wrapped in newspaper balanced on his knees.  Dallas stood as soon as he spotted them.

“You know what,” Lip said, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together, “Fiona's at work, Debs and Carl are still at school, V's got Liam, and I just realized I owe Karen a visit.  Guess you'll be home alone for a while,” he said with overwrought regretfulness. “I sure hope you won't be too lonely.”  He clapped Ian on the shoulder, turned, and walked off.

Ian opened his mouth to yell something after his brother, but he glanced at the house and Dallas standing in front of it, shut his mouth, squared his shoulders, and walked up to the porch.  “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dallas said.  He held out the newsprint parcel.  “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Ian took the package.  It was slim, rectangular, fairly heavy for its size, and felt solid.  “Uh, here.”  He unlocked the door and let them inside.  “You really didn't have to get me anything,” he said as he re-locked the door behind them.

“I know,” Dallas said absently, looking around the room.  He shrugged. “I wanted to.”

Ian grinned a little.  He tore the paper off, his mouth fell open, he glanced at Dallas in profound astonishment, and turned the iPad over in his hands.  “What the fuck happened to you being homeless and broke?”

Dallas grinned and shrugged.  “I went to the unclaimed baggage store near the airport—paid thirty bucks for a suitcase with a seized up zipper and everything inside it.  Got really lucky.”

Ian set the iPad aside, grabbed Dallas, and pulled him into a kiss.  “You are insane.”  He kissed him again.  “Thank you. Holy shit.”

Dallas laughed, stumbling slightly from being grabbed.  “I'm glad you like it.”

“Are you kidding?”  Ian laughed incredulously.  “My entire family shares a fucking flip phone.  I can't believe this.”

Dallas smiled warmly.  

Ian went to the table, touched the iPad adoringly, then looked up.  “Hang on, thirty dollars is at least a week of food and you spent it on a suitcase.  When's the last time you ate?”

Dallas held up his hands.  “I needed clothes for warmer weather so I bought a suitcase, took all the clothes from it, and traded them in at Plato's Closet.  It worked out.  Sold the case and most of the jewelry I found in it.  Kept the iPad and the charger for it—sorry I didn't wrap that bit, it's in the car.  Also kept the bottle of wine and, uh,” he blushed hard enough for it to stand out against his freckles, “and the glass dildo.”

Ian stared at him then laughed.  “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, though, when's the last time you ate?”

“Uh. Yesterday morning,” Dallas admitted.

Ian went to grab a bag of pizza bites out of the freezer.  “What kind of wine?”

“Red.” Dallas shrugged.  “I've never seen it before, it's called Velvet. Haven't opened it.”

“Huh.” He tossed a plate of pizza bites in the microwave.  “...have you used the dildo?”

“Fuck no.  I don't know where that thing's been.” Dallas crossed his arms.  “I'm not touching it until I've boiled it within an inch of its life.”

Ian arched an eyebrow at him and pulled a pot out from under the counter, stuck it under the faucet, and turned the water on, all without breaking eye contact.  Dallas glanced at the pot wide eyed.  Ian got down two plastic goblets, still without looking away from Dallas.  Dallas nodded once slowly, fished his car keys out of his pocket, and went to unlock the front door.

“Bring the jewelry you kept, too.”

Dallas looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Okay.”

He came back in with the iPad charger wrapped around his hand, the bottle of wine tucked in a mateless knee-high sock Plato's Closet hadn't wanted, the jewelry in his pocket, and the dildo bundled in a T-shirt he'd ruined at the laundromat.  He dumped everything but the jewelry on the kitchen table. Ian handed him the plate of pizza bites, snagged one for himself and ate it.  He'd set the pot on the stove.  “So,” he said, carefully tugging at a loose corner of the T-shirt, “this is it?”  

“Yup,” Dallas said through a mouthful of pizza bites.

Ian gave the shirt a sharper tug and it unbundled, rolling its contents halfway across the table.  Ian blinked at it and swallowed, trying to keep his face from turning the same color as his hair.  “That, is a big glass dick.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Prettier than any real dick I've ever seen.”

“Same.”

Ian used the T-shirt to grab the nine-odd inches of clear and purple glass and drop it into the pot on the stove.  “Wine?” he asked, grabbing a corkscrew from a drawer.  Dallas handed the bottle to him. “What jewelry did you keep?”

Dallas reached in his pocket and pulled out four pairs of stud earrings, which he held out in his palm for Ian to see as he poured the wine. One pair was white opals, one simple little silver balls, one kind of spiky black stars, and the last one tiny gold Deathly Hallows.

“So you do have pierced ears,” Ian said with a grin, handing Dallas one of the goblets.

“Mhm.” Dallas pocketed the earrings and sipped the wine.  “Oh, hey, this is good.”

Ian took a sip of his own and blinked.  “Tastes expensive.”

Dallas shrugged.  “No idea how much it is but it's good.”

“Yeah,” Ian chuckled.  He took another drink.  “Why don't you wear earrings?”

“Parents hate it.”  Dallas paused.  “Guess that doesn't really matter now.”

“Not really.”

Dallas frowned, set down his wine, reached into his pocket, pulled out the opals, and put them in.  He shrugged and looked to Ian.  “Whatcha think?”

“I think I just realized I like boys with jewelry.”  He downed the rest of his wine, came around the counter, and stepped up to Dallas. He touched his ear with the back of a knuckle then bent to kiss him. Dallas curled his fingers in the front of Ian's shirt, kissed him back, then pulled away.  Ian sighed a little.  “Still no?”

Dallas looked away, lay his hand on the base of his goblet, twisted it, then looked back up at Ian.  “Lemme finish my wine and we'll see.”

“Fair enough.”

By the time the bottle of wine was empty, the iPad had been set up, complete with shiny new Apple I.D. for Ian, Dallas was glaring intensely at a free chess game they'd downloaded, and Ian had pot holders on both hands, fiddling with the dildo they'd recently decided was safe now.

“I took three years of chess lessons,” Dallas mumbled.  “Can't tell if they were useless, or if wine and chess just don't mix.”  Ian poked him in the ribs with the dildo.  He glowered at Ian, who grinned.  Dallas rolled his eyes.

Ian turned the dildo over in his hands.  “Why'd you keep this?”

“Right now,” Dallas said slowly, setting the iPad down, “I can't afford to, like, by myself shit.  I mean, sex toys don't count as essentials.  I wasn't really hoping to find a dildo.”  He shrugged, the slight flush he had from the wine darkening to an actual blush. “But if I didn't keep it and then I changed my mind and decided I did want one, I wouldn't be able to get one.  So I kept it.”

Ian eyed him.  “So, you'd actually use this thing?”

“Yeah,” Dallas said slowly.

“On yourself?”

Dallas nodded.  “Well, yeah.”

“Weird.”

“It's not weird.”  Dallas shoved his shoulder.

Ian laughed and shook his head.  “You touch yourself like that?”

“Yeah. Don't you?”

“No.”

“Really?” Dallas asked, taken aback.

“Really,” Ian said.  “I have never stuck anything up my own ass.”

“Never?”

“Never. Well, once,” Ian corrected himself.  “But I don't think that time really counts cuz it was more just to see if I could, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah.” Dallas tucked his feet up under himself and turned more toward Ian. “Why not though?”

Ian shrugged and made a face.  “I don't really like it.”

“Oh.” Dallas's face fell.  “I didn't—I thought, I mean you seemed to, seemed to like it, I mean, when we—”

“Oh, yeah, no,” Ian said quickly.  “I did.  That's different.  Kinda weird still—I'm usually top—but definitely not bad.  Good, actually.  It was good.”

“Oh, good,” Dallas breathed.

Ian cocked his head, frowning.  “If you like stuff up the ass, why'd you insist I bottom?”

Dallas shrugged.  “I wanted to fuck you and that's how I usually do that, so, yeah.”

“We both usually top.”

“Sounds like it.”

Ian chuckled.  “Well, that's gonna be interesting.”

“Yeah,” Dallas agreed.  He settled against the couch cushions.  “Lemme guess, you're weird about having stuff stuck into you, so I bet you don't give head, either.”

“No, I do.”  Ian crossed his arms.  “Not a lot, but I do.”

“Prefer to get it than give it?”

“Uh, actually,” Ian scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “the only hummer I've ever gotten was from a girl and, uh, it wasn't great.”

Dallas blinked at him.  “You've never been blown by a guy?”

“Nope.”

“Well, we've got to fix that,” Dallas said, sliding off the couch to the floor.

“It's okay,” Ian said, watching him, “you don't have to.”

“I want to.”  Dallas flashed Ian a grin and started undoing his belt. “I actually like, you know,” he shrugged bashfully, “sucking dick.  Call it another birthday present.”

“Uh, okay,” Ian said, letting Dallas tug his jeans and boxers down.  No way he was going to argue with that.  Dallas settled comfortably between his knees, stroked him a couple times, pressed his lips to the shaft in a kiss, then gave a long slow savoring lick.  Ian cursed and balled his fists, a shiver running up his spine.

Dallas glanced up at him.  “You can grab my hair if you want,” he said before giving another lick.  He grinned a little.  “I know it's weird to figure out what to do with your hands.”

Ian sucked in a sharp breath as Dallas mouthed at him wetly, hesitated, then dug his fingers into Dallas's thick, black hair.  It was soft and getting long—he probably hadn't gotten his hair cut since they'd met.  He grit his teeth and gave a soft tug as Dallas took him into his mouth. Dallas's eyes flicked up and met Ian's and Ian was struck again by the green and brown complexity.  He shut his eyes.  “Fucking hell.”

Dallas lay one hand on Ian's hip, his other fingers curled in the loose fabric of one of Ian's pantlegs.  He hummed happily and did something absolutely unspeakable with his tongue that made Ian gasp.  It didn't take long for Ian reach the edge and go over, yanking at Dallas's hair harder than he really meant to, cursing, and groaning. Panting, he let go of Dallas's hair and opened in eyes just in time to see Dallas lick his lips, wipe his mouth with the back of a hand, and smile up at him.  Dallas bit his lower lip adorably.  “Was that good?”

Ian nodded.  “Oh yeah.  Real good.”

Grinning, Dallas climbed back up onto the couch next to him. “I'm glad.”

“You actually really do enjoy that, don't you?”

“Mhm.” Dallas was still chewing his lip cutely.

Ian shook his head. “Why?”

Dallas shrugged.  “I dunno; it's just fun for me.”

“Okay,” Ian breathed.  He took a few more breaths then said, “You seem way less worried about my age now.”

“I decided 'm just not gonna think about that,” Dallas said, holding up one hand.

“Okay.” Ian took another deep breath and fixed his pants.  He slumped back against the cushions.  “Wow.  Yeah. Fuck.”  He glanced at Dallas.  “And you just swallow like it's nothing.”

Dallas shut his eyes and bowed his head in embarrassment.  “I kinda like how it tastes—I know that's really weird.”

“You're a freak,” Ian said, “and it's amazing.”

Dallas laughed and looked up at him.

“What color are your eyes?” Ian asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Dallas blinked a couple times.

“Like, are they brown or green?”

“Oh. Yeah, they're both.  I mean, they're brown, but I've got green, like, starburst things around the irises, so, yeah, both.”

“That's different,” Ian said.  “I like it.”  Dallas looked down bashfully.  Ian tilted his chin back up, studied him, then kissed him, not sure how he felt about tasting himself on Dallas's tongue. When he pulled back, he asked, “Do, uh, do you wanme to do you now?”

“Um. I mean,” Dallas said haltingly, “how much longer d'you think we have before your family gets home?”

“Oh, right, fuck.”  Ian ran a hand over his face and through his hair. “I don't know.”

“Then, uh, no,” Dallas said.  “I mean, quickies are fine, but they're more frustrating than fun, really, and I'd rather be able to, y'know, take my time?  And I'd really rather not get walked in on.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.”  Ian sighed.

Dallas leaned in to kiss his cheek.  “I'll go.”

“If I didn't have school tomorrow, I'd go with you,” Ian said softly.

Dallas smiled as he got up.  “Maybe if you wanna hang out this weekend?”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded.  “Let's do that.”

“Okay.” Dallas got his things together and gave Ian one last sweet, soft kiss before leaving.

The next two days of school were among the longest of Ian's life.  Friday night, with Lip and Carl asleep, he pulled the iPad out from where he had it hidden with his porn, hid with it under the covers, and prayed it would connect to nearby wifi.  It did.  He grinned, opened Messages to the one contact he had, and typed: Dallas u up?

A few minutes passed and Ian had just about given up on getting a response when one came through: Yeah & lucky for you I have wifi.  What's up?

Nm. Just thinking about you

Aw you're cute :P

We hanging out tomorrow?

Yeah I can pick you up?

Sure

When?

Morning? I'm not doing anything else

Works for me

Where u parked tonight?

Behind the school library That's how I have wifi

Cool

Ian heard Carl mumble in his sleep and he quickly locked the iPad, clutched to his chest, and peaked out from under the covers to make sure his little brother really was still asleep.  He took a deep breath and ducked back under his blanket.

U use that dildo yet?

……..maybe Why d'you ask?

Just curious ;)

Just curious my ass

Exactly

You suck

Didn't get a chance to yet I take that maybe as a yes

Okay yes but your sex puns are horrible

Not sure those were puns But so you did?

I did You're trying to get me to write you porn

Maybe

That's a yes

It's a yes

There's not much to tell Tab A goes in slot B You know how it works Only tab A is purple and made of glass

Cmon Did u like it?

Yeah Thought about you

Really?

Yeah

Ian chewed on the inside of his cheek and curled tighter around the iPad.

Please tell me

I imagined it was you That you were kissing and touching me

I want to

I know you do Tomorrow

That a promise?

Maybe ;)

[harmonic-intervention]

Clip by clip thoughts!

He’s listening to “Take me to Church” again. And he’s cooking. Interesting, actually, since I thought from an earlier episode that he cooks when he’s happy, but maybe he also stress-cooks. He definitely listens to the song when he thinks of David. I love how the girl squad creeps around in the back. Aaand he’s eating out of a ... what is that, a pot? Is this his comfort food? I love how all of them are there. Cute. I like how they want to help David. And how Abdi definitely knows how terrible it is that he was outed in front of the whole school. And wow, Neuhaus is a giant bag of dicks. This halting way that Matteo speaks kinda breaks my heart. Like he feels bad for throwing up this point even though it’s a good point. He’s so insecure that he looks entirely thrown off when Jonas tells him he’s right.

Next clip. “Give him time.” And he is going to. He understands that he can’t force David to reach out and has to be patient, no matter how terribly difficult that might be when you really care about a person. Especially if that person is the boy Matteo probably would’ve confessed his love to on Friday had everything worked out fine. And then his mom. Calls him the sunshine of her world. She loves him unconditionally and this is how you properly live as a christian. Loving. Matteo’s sighs and little smile in the end. He’s relieved. He was scared. But now, at least, he has one less problem.

Next. Amira is so adorable, I am so psyched for her season! I can’t wait. Matteo sending David a voice message was kinda cute. No call but more personal than a text. And giving David a choice to answer. And he did. I wonder if they’re gonna meet on Thursday or we gotta wait till Friday.

And next. The boys are dumb. Stop killing your only braincell! I love them so much. I love how they promise to always be friends, this kinda stuff you barely see in modern media between boys, only between girls. Let boys be emotional and vulnerable and for the love of god, let them love their friends! And let them be insecure, just as Matteo was, looking for advice. And Abdi gave some really solid advice. Wait for him and when he’s there, be there for him. And that he assures Matteo that he’s doing the right thing, that was such a good thing to say! Matteo has started carving his own way, making his own decisions and speaking his mind, but he doesn’t have to live without his friends’ support and love and that was absolutely wonderful.

The walking into church looks really pretty. I’m not much of a church person, never way, but I don’t know, Matteo slowly walking up the steps and looking around looks ... I love the cinematography. And his mama, she looks so happy to see him and instantly walks to him. And the way she embraces him warms my heart. Here he is, crying into his mother’s arms because to an extent, he is still a child and he loves her, misses her and needs her. But then he leaves and that breaks my heart. But it also shows how much he cares for David and how much he wants him here. And how afraid he is, instantly shooting off texts and racing home to find him. The camera angles and stuff are amazingly capturing his panic. The biting of the thumb is a great detail, as well as Matteo almost not closing the door behind him. I feel him, I’m worried about David too. Where is he!? The smothering with the pillow, the harsh breathing, the fast typing, it’s all counting in. Matteo is scared out of his mind and who can fucking blame him? Hope my prince is alright. Another thing, I just love how Laura is no villain here and she has no qualms in telling Matteo what is going on.

Next clip. Matteo is worried and tries to do something. He’s doing something, he’s out and he’s actively looking for David, tries to call him. Also, just as an aside: I get why people might be fed up with the “drama” but I like it. It follows some part of the OG storyline which I am fine with. It establishes once more Matteo’s feelings for David and it shows that the love he feels for him is genuine and not a crush that he’s reading too much into. It actually builds up more of a connection between Matteo and Laura, them chatting in hopes of finding out where David is.

Last clip! Holy crap. So, the voice mail. I love how as soon as it played, all background noise seemed to fade away. All Matteo could focus on was David’s words. And he instantly knew where David was without him having to outright say it. Then Matteo being pissed off. Maybe not the best reaction, but the most emotional one for sure. He’s been running himself ragged over David’s disappearance and there he is. How are you supposed to deal with that? And then David’s outburst. So powerful. So important. This is what I was hoping for: a textualizing by the affected character himself about how terrible the outing was for him and how unfair the way the others treat him is. It is completely unfair and it is not okay and it was so important for David himself to say it instead of people speculating about it. He again mentions that everyone is alone. He went through this and he believed he had to do it on his own, the only people to support him would be his sister and godmother. But then Matteo makes him listen and tells him about others, more people, people who want to be his friends and want to be there for him and help him if he lets them. And that David has Matteo and that he will not leave and that he is there for every step of the way. That he loves him through it all, maybe despite it all and definitely because of it all. And no, I don’t believe all is good and well now, of course not. But this, that he’s not alone, that people care and the guy he is in love with loves him back, was something he needed to hear to pick himself up again. Knowing that you have people who have your back is an incredibly important and encouraging thing. I am so glad that they gave this moment to David to just shout all of it out and make it heard.

[rkdaehwi]

TEAM ROYAL GROUP PERFORMANCE PART I : PERFORMANCE

MGA5 contestant #5042 Sohn Youngjae YOUTH OVER FLOWERS Performing Shangri La - VIXX & Lyric distribution Partner: Kim Hyojin { @hyojinrk } & Do Kyungsoo { @rkkyungsoo​ } & Lee Suwoong { @rksuwoong​ } & Jeon Heejin { @rkheejin​ } Coaches: Cheri { @rkcheri​ } & Ella { @rkella​ } & Jeon Wonwoo { @rkwon​ } Outfit: Traditional robes

“ Let’s love turbulence and use it for change ”

Honestly speaking Eric wasn’t satisfied. It was a lie to say that he knew Taeyang well by any means, but as a fellow dancer he had taken a liking to the eldest of their trio last week and thought it incredibly unfair that he had been the one to get booted and not Hyojin who, Eric thought, was the one actually dragging them down. Even more dissatisfied was he when the names were called out and he realised that yet again he was stuck with the same guy.

At least he was feeling upset until the very moment he realised what had actually been suggested. He should have known right away that he’d be in Royal since his name wasn’t called for any of the other companies, but the fact that he would be training in THE Royal building was incomprehensible to him. Even more so: the moment the single name Luxe was mentioned Eric let out a loud shriek in surprise and he could have sworn he felt the tears enter his eyes when Ella was named to be one of the coaches. How lucky could one boy possibly be? If he were to die right at this very moment he wouldn’t even regret anything – or rather, he would regret it a lot if he didn’t at least complete the week, but after that he was ready for death’s sweet embrace: he needed nothing more in his life now.

On the Friday he took the bus to Royal’s establishment together with his brother – they hadn’t been taking the same bus since Dowoon took him to school back in elementary unless it was for a special occasion so it felt kind of nice and nostalgic. He wondered if he could pop in on the older later on, but Eric also didn’t want to get in trouble from roaming around too much in places he wasn’t allowed just because his curiousity was trying to get the better of him. Saying goodbye to Dowoon he soon enough found the room and stepped in mouthing a very obvious ‘wow’ after which he proceeded to examine every inch of the room as the first to arrive. This was after all where he was going to spend the next week, and also quite possibly his future (at least if you were to ask him).

Come the Sunday they were already pretty set. Everything had seemed pretty decent at first, but soon enough things started to change. Setting aside his own tense feelings towards Hyojin and his trying to focus with not only his favourite girl in the world Ella, but also the beautiful and charismatic Cheri in the room (he might have made a few missteps due to sheer happiness and lack of focus thereof which didn’t seem to sit well with Ella, so Eric quickly realised that he had to pull himself more together) it was obvious that not everything was as it was supposed to be. He hadn’t realised that Suwoong and Kyungsoo were related at first; didn’t see any reason for any bad blood between them for after all what were the odds of someone you knew making it this far?

But somehow that both explained things, but also made Eric sad. He only just recently had a huge argument with his own brother and didn’t like the idea of people who were related by blood to not get along. Family was supposed to be a place of comfort and not of feud. And when Kyungsoo and Suwoong had ended in an escalated argument Eric had practically sunken into himself not sure how to handle this conflict, what to say or what to do. Throughout their practice so far Eric had thought of Kyungsoo as someone with a very vague presence, not at all matching what he had seen of the guy on stage, and he had affectionately nicknamed him ‘ghost’. Now, however, Eric might as well have been the true ghost with how he simply just wanted to disappear. He didn’t like things as they were right now.

As an added stress him and Hyojin had agreed to do a performance alongside their MGA preparations to practice both Eric’s stage presence as a rapper and also Hyojin’s general stage presence. How that was going to end Eric had no idea and it was something he preferred not to think about, but when Suwoong had invited him out for lunch after Kyungsoo had vanished, the topic had latched onto the tension the young male himself felt. It was a rare sight to see him so downcast, but Eric couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable in his group as things were at that moment.

If he could count his blessings in any way it was that this unbearable situation only lasted for one day. Monday morning Kyungsoo and Suwoong had appeared surprisingly buddy-buddy and apologised, confusing Eric to no ends especially considering how they had been just the day before. He supposed that was the good thing about knowing each other in private – that you could take things off the record at any moment – but that only amplified how nervous he felt over his own emotions. That was when Hyojin had called for a meeting to resolve any more suppressed feelings, and it hadn’t been long until Eric had voiced his own concerns – “We had to make the choreography simpler because of you and Taeyang hyung didn’t get to shine properly as a dancer. Is that gonna happen again?” – for right now he didn’t want to go home because he had to cater to someone else’s needs. He was already taking a huge risk by rapping after all, but in this particular matter every single one of the others were a hopeless case.

At first the apology hadn’t satisfied him, Eric’s stubborn self being dead set on being upset, but after seeing Hyojin truly apologetic for something the younger boy realised wasn’t even the guy’s fault when you really thought about it, he eased up a bit. And not too soon after they had stopped their impromptu meeting had Eric approached Hyojin, almost crestfallen and obviously very stressed out over everything. “Hyung,” he had said. “I’m sorry for everything, it’s just… I really want this. I don’t wanna go home.” Especially not now that his goal was finally in sight.

Hyojin had acknowledged his concerns, and with the relief of not having to (badly) hide everything he felt Eric warmed up to the older guy much more. Their performance in Hongdae had turned from something he just had to get over and done with to something that was actually enjoyable and a great learning experience, and for the first time in the past two weeks Eric had been glad to have Hyojin as his partner in the show.

It was Thursday, day of recording, and also the day that would decide whether or not he would make it into the finals or if this would be the end of his path. From a full hundred performances they had narrowed it down to only five and whether the best people had been picked to move on or not, Eric had no power to say anything about the mistakes made by the judges. With any hope his rap would be able to avenge his fallen comrades – it was pretty much a gamble of standing out or butchering it and he hoped the former would apply rather than the latter. He, at least, had done every amount of practice in his power, and although he had nothing but good words to say about the coaches (especially the girls from Luxe) there was the fact that even amongst them, no one really knew how to rap. It was nerve wrecking to say the least.

Being the last to perform could be terrifying in and of itself – it was always much easier to have a performance in the middle because then it wouldn’t matter as much if your performance was a bit lackluster. No one remembered an ending performance that didn’t end in a bang after all, and as far as Eric was concerned they would live up to what he expected from something to finish it all up. Hopefully everyone would agree. 

After it became time to step onto the stage, for the first time this season Eric had to appear with a full group. Somehow that all felt so much more idol like than the duo and trio performances thus far and he loved every single second of it. After getting in positions they called out their team name: “We are Yoth over Flowers!” after which they all posed like a flower. Eric gave a wink to the camera as he was posing – if not for youthful energised fanservice, what would he survive on? Skill was overrated nowadays, but of course it was lucky that he also possessed that much.

Without further ado the scene filled with smoke after they all entered their spots and under the dim lights the music began. For the first part before the chorus Eric didn’t have much more than a bit of adlib and harmonisation, but that was fine. As long as he did get to show his vocal skills on top of everything else he would not complain. After the chorus however the real deal went down. They had made slight modifications to the rap verse to better fit Eric’s voice colour (he refused to believe it was to fit his skills because that would only be hypocritical considering how he had thought of Hyojin) but half of it was still genuine, actual rap that he had to go through without flunking it.

덜 익은 복숭아마저도 달다 휘날리는 꽃잎 아래 네 비단결 옷자락 그 끝을 따라 널 와락 안아 난 네 숨소릴 잘 알아 네가 (불어와) 내가 (들어간) 꿈같은 상상

Needless to say he had been nervous about performing in a skill that was only mediocre – he might have done it full of confidence in the very beginning, but now that he was so far in and the only way was down it felt like a world of difference. But he tried his best to remember what he had felt while practicing in this past week, while performing in Hongdae. Tried to remember that he was not alone in this and that his group members had his back even though the one with the poorest result this week would have to go. And by god he hoped that it wouldn’t be him. Hopefully the judges would be just as satisfied with the result of his efforts as Eric himself was.

Up came the centre part that had been fought for quite a bit, and Eric had to say that he was more than happy that just because he had the rap part his dance lines also followed the same member and that he was automatically a candidate for the position. And soon enough it came, all focus on the middle of the formation where he and Kyungsoo were standing back to back leaning their heads on each other’s shoulder. After that it jumped straight into a dance break which Eric much appreciated as a chance to show off his capabilities, and after that it didn’t take long for the song to finish.

With his chest heaving from the performance Eric held his position in the ending formation for a second, just in case the camera would zoom in on him and tried to manage a serious expression to match the theme of the song. His flowery fan was open to the side, a sunflower decorating it. Honestly he didn’t know much about flowers so when the others had asked he simply had burst out the sunflower as representing him. After all, something with sun in the name had to be good and warm right? Bright and shining. And that was the image he wanted to give.

Turning around again he gave a small bow to the judges and followed along his group back to their seats.

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 52 - Deer, dog tags and microwaves

In the previous chapter: Angie agrees to go out with Dave. Eddie keeps calling to talk to her and she has to spill the beans and tell Meg what happened in San Diego, she also tries to explain her point of view on the matter and why she's avoiding him. Grace and Meg planned to spend the evening together at Meg's place. Eventually Grace remains alone in the apartment for a few minutes and that's when Stone calls. Gossard is tender as always with her and she almost seems intimidated by his behaviour. Grace speaks to Eddie too and since she doesn't know about the kiss between Angie and him, she decides to shake things up a little and make him jealous by telling him about Angie going out with Dave that night. Eddie takes it really bad. Grace thinks her plan worked until she tells Meg and finds out where Angie and Eddie are really at. Once Angie comes back home  the girls finally have her call Eddie and tell him the truth. Angie confronts Eddie and reveals Dave has just started dating Jennifer, L7's bassplayer, and she simply went to one of their concerts with him so he wouldn't go alone and feel awkward. Eddie apologizes to Angie and confesses what he feels for her in a way he never managed to do before. Angie's friends hear it all since they forced her to put him on speakerphone.

***

Strong fragrance used in perfumery. Four letters. Starts with an M. Magnolia! No, it's eight. Mango... Mandarine... Ugh what the fuck? I strangely managed to put my hands on the copy of the Seattle Times that sometimes we happen to buy before Angie, so she hasn't done the crossword yet. But now I guess I'll have to ask my friend for help because I don't know how to go on.

“So, what was I saying? Oh yeah, I turn up at the table, usual protocol greeting with smile incuded, I ask the woman what she's having and she asks, literal words, a cheeseburger without chees and some fries” the door of her bedroom is open, I cautiously look inside and see her on the phone. Of course I already know who she's talking to. Since that night when Grace and I managed to convince her to call poor Eddie, there have been lots more calls, every day. Unfortunately not on speakerphone. Fuck, when he was there spilling his heart all out to Angie, Grace and I melted in sighs and aaaaaws and Vedder almost caught us. Am I nosey? Yes. I meddle in other people's love life to avoid thinking of the disaster which is mine? Yes, I do. Am I also genuinely happy things are going great for my friend as she deserves though? I am!

“Wait. I'm just standing there, kind of confused for how she spoke, then I reply: great, I'll take you the Go-go meal with hamburger + fries + medium drink for $ 4,99. Well, basically she doesn't even let me finish talking and says: No, no, I don't want a hamburger. I want a cheeseburger with no cheese” Angie rocks left and right on the swivel chair as she listens her sweetheart's answer with a big smile on her face.

“Exactly! Hahaha same thing I told her: So... you mean... a hamburger, madam? NO! She says, very bitterly. I said I don't want any hamburger, I asked for a simple cheeseburger with no cheese! I swear she was yelling, I was so ashamed for me but for her too” Angie rotates a little more on her chair, sees me and nods at me.

“I didn't bat an eyelid and said: So you wanna pay one dollar more for a cheeseburger but you want it without the cheese?” Angie and I burst our laughing together as I enter her room, then she goes on “Yes, that's the point, 'cause the Cheeseburger menu costs more, that's the most absurd thing! If I take an order as cheeseburger, even if I tell the guys in the kitchen not to put cheese in it, it'll still be considered as a cheeseburger. Well, you know what, this bitch widens her eyes to me and goes like: Yes, exactly! Was it so difficult for you to understand? Ahahah yeah, I told you, she was a bitch!”

“The customer's always right!” I state as I sit on her bed.

“Hey, you and Meg said the same thing almost at the same time! Anyway, since the customer's always right and this woman had just basically told me I was an idiot, whereas she was the real idiot, I cheerfully replied: Not at all, madam. There goes a Marilyn meal with cheesburger with no cheese + fries + medium drink for €5,99 for you, ok? And the bitch: Yes, that's it, now you're talking. Thank you. Oh fuck you! Hehe... wait a second, ok?” Angie laughs with Eddie, then takes the phone off her ear slightly and addresses me “Did you need anything?”

“Strong fragrnce used in perfumerie, starts with an M, four letters” I ask her, showing the newspaper.

“Musk” she answers in a couple of seconds. Yes! That was it! Why didn't I think about it. I hate her.

“Yeah, it can be actually”

“It cannot be, it actually is!” she gloats then puts the receiver back against her ear “What? Did you know it too? He knew it too”

“Well thank you both but there's no need to brag!” I throw a pillow at Angie, who manages to dodge it, then takes it up from the floor.

“Sadly used in perfumerie I'd add... What do you mean why? Musk is extremely harmful, both the synthetic and the natural one... Well, in doubt, I'd rather not have to choose between either the total extinction of an animal species or pollution and maybe choose other kinds of perfumes, don't you think? What? What animal? What do you mean? You know where does musk come from, right?” a debate starts between Angie and Eddie and I can only hear one side of it, which I think it's the most consistent part anyway “Plant? What plant? Musk is not a plant! I mean, yeah, there's also some plant but that's not what's used to make perfumes. No! It's an animal secretion, from a deer, the musk deer. No, I'm not kidding, Eddie, I swear! There deer have a gland, like a small sack under their belly, that emits this substance and they spread it around to mark their territory, especially during mating season... Hahahaha no, Eddie, it's not deer's sperm!”

Not the typical conversation between lovers, right?

“Anyway now it's basically all synthetic” I remark once I write the correct word in the puzzle.

“That's even worse because it's extremely polluting and ends up in the food chain.” Angie answers both to me and Eddie “What? Hahaha no, don't buy me musk perfume, thank you. And don't buy me any presents in general... you already did too many... yes you did... yes you did... Eddie? Please... Come on...” now we're back to more couple stuff, Angie holds the pillow tighter and tighter and I think it's time to get out of here and go back to my room. Well, or to keep eavesdropping from outside without being seen.

“Wait, Meg! Yes, I'm gonna ask her now.” I stand up and am about to leave, walking backwards and waving bye, but Angie stops me “Will you go and see the guys tomorrow in Portland?”

“Yeah, that's the plan. Grace and Laura are coming too”

“Did you hear that? Meg, Grace and Laura, the perfect trio ready to cheer and throw bras at you”

“Haha I've got very little to throw!”

“No, Eddie, I told you, I can't... Roxy will kill me, it's even a Thursday, the night school nurses finish earlier... I can't take another day off”

I see our little Romeo is impatient. His dreams started to break when he found out Kelly had planned a series of radio promos and interviews right during the two days break between the two Oregon shows and that he'd have to wait before coming back to Settle. Eddie tried to avoid it by explaining that he doesn't really count in Stone and Jeff's band and that they could do the job but apparently it didn't work.

“Come on, I'll see you the day after tomorrow, no big change... Oh shut up, it doesn't change anything... Hahaha no!” I'm still here standing in the middle of Angie's room while she plays arond with that pillow and I'd really want to know what was that last no about but I know my friend will never tell me.

“Say hi to him, ok?” this time I leave for real, yet stopping in the hallway 'cause, as I said, I haven't learned how to mind my own business yet.

“Meg says hi! Anyway I was thinking of something. Hahaha no, not that! I was thinking, if the girl come to see you tomorrow... well, for someone it'll be like losing that famous bet once again... don't you think? Hehehe I have no idea, I don't know Portland, I don't know if there are any 70s discos in town, you should ask Stone. No no, ask him, I'm sure he'd be willing to set one up by himself so he could make fun of the losers! Haha yeah, that'd be a can't-miss event. Oh yeah? Why? Uh sure, my presence would definitely make the difference”

The lovebirds' phone call goes on for a little while, with Eddie probably telling her something sweet and Angie joking about it, maybe because of her natural embarrassment or because she knows exactly I'm right her listening to them. After she ends the call, she dispels my uncertainty.

“Meg!”

I keep my mouth shut.

“Meg? Come on, I know you're there!”

“Uhm? I was going to the bathroom” I magically show up back on the doorway, right in time to be the target of a weak pillow throw.

“Sure...”

“So?” I sit back on her bed, waiting for Angie to finally share something without me trying to forcefully extort information from her.

“Grace is coming with you tommorrow then?” Angie immediately kills all my hopes.

“Yeah, she is”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I called her in the morning and she told me she's in. Why?”

“I don't know, it's just... she doesn't really look like she can't wait to see Stone... does she? Am I wrong? I mean, it sounds strange but...”

“Wait a minute. Angela Pacifico... gossiping?!!”

“Hahaha fuck you, Meg!”

“Who are you? What did you do to my roommate?” I stand up straight, pointing at her with a trembling hand.

“I'm not gossiping, I'm just worrying about a couple of friends”

“Worrying huh?” I pull my arm down and snicker at her.

“Two dear friends I care about. And look cute together. And Grace seemed really into it at the beginning but now... meh... I mean, do you think there's something we don't know?” the new gossip queen is beating around the bush and I decide to play along. Also because one more conversation about Grace is one less about me and my non existent love life.

“Nah, I think it's normal. Grace had a crush and Stone played it cool. Now he doesn't act all cool anymore and she's confused, that's it”

“Stone looks pretty straight forward to me”

“Oh yeah, actually... He reminds me of someone else we know” this time I can't help picking on her but she rolls her eyes and goes on.

“He basically thinks they're a couple already, whereas she kind of shut him off” sure, a kind of behaviour you're really familiar with, right Angie? I don't say it loud this time.

“She will open up tomorrow, trust me”

“I don't want them to suffer, that's all” my friend shrugs and plays with the phone still in her hands. Are you saying this to yourself maybe?

“So... no musk perfume?” I aske her after a while and Angie starts rocking on her chair again.

“Haha no, please!”

“I have to remind Eddie to take one that's fruit scented” I wink at her while she puffs and takes a 360 degrees spin.

“Please...”

“Banana would be perfect”

“MEG!”

“What? What did I say?!”

****************************************************************************************************************************

Beer pong. Twenty six years old and I still play beer pong? Well, Kim's thirty and he organizes tournaments of these fucking games. It should console me. Twenty six, a steady relationship, a serious music project, a bank account that allows me to pay my bills without struggling at the end of the month... and I wake up at six in the morning in my bassplayer's bathtub. Fucking back pain! And why the fuck am I still in this shitty condo? I curse as I insist pressing the button to call for the elevator tht will never come. Then I give up to climb up four flights of stairs.

I drag my tired bones up to the door of my apartment but when I put my hand in my pocket looking for the keys the cold metal feeling is replace by total void. I can't fucking believe it. Did Matt have to find himself a girlfriend right now? I quickly feel up all the pockets in my jacket and in my pants, can't find shit and punch the door.

“Fuck” as throw the punch I clearly hear the clink sound of keys and I try and search better but I can't find anything. I punch the door once more and there's the sound again. I start jumping in place like a moron in front of the door and at every jump there's a jingle. I take off my jacket, shake it, same sound. I inspect each and every pocket more attentively and I find something: not the keys but a big hole in the left pocket. Mistery solved! Now I only have to use that little lucidity I've got left to determine the exact position of the keys inside the lining of my jacket and take them out. As I try to take them, I can hear another sound, not metallic but “human”, that catches my attention. A voice, like someone hummig very quietly without words. At first I think maybe it's someone singing while shaving or dressing up, after all it's morning for the rest of the world. But I can clearly hear this voice, although it's faint, and has a little echo that makes me thing the person's already left home. So why am I not seeing anyone passing? I walk through the hallway and I'm still feeling my jacket for the keys when I turn the corner and see him: Vedder, sitting on the floor, well on the mat just outside the girls' apartment, writing on a notebook, with a paperbag on his legs.

“Eddie?” I call him 'cause he doesn't seem to notice me.

“Oh, hey, hi Chris” Eddie stops writing and says hi, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

“What are you doing here? Aren't you on tour?”

“It's over! I mean, technically it ends on 3rd March but since the last three shows are here in Seattle we're basically done. I mean, we're done touring. Away” Eddie calmly explains, clicking his pen and putting it inside the notebook, then putting it all in the inside pocket of his jacket. As he does this, I can see his t-shirt: a white one with Air love bone written on it and the silhouette of a long haired basket player looking more like Jeff rather than Jordan. I've got one of those t-shirts too but mine is dark blue.

“Aren't you supposed to play in Oregon?”

“We were, we played in Portland last night. Small crowd but good atmosphere, great show” Eddie nods at himself and doesn't get up.

“Did you play yesterday? And when did you get back?”

“What time is it now? Uh half past seven. Well, a few hours ago”

“Hehe so you guys jumped on the van and dashed back home right after the show, right? You couldn't wait huh?” I guess he was especially looking forward to it. It's not like Eddie has ever told me anything about this stuff, I'm neither his confidant nor Jeff. But maybe I'm one of those, together with Ament and a few other people, who knows him a little better. Anyway it doesn't take a genius to figure out that if you're here outside a girl's door instead of at home in your bed to sleep the tour off, well, there's something big going on.

“Well, ehm, I don't know about this... I mean, don't know what the others did, I... I came back by myself” for a second Eddie loses his apparent composure.

“By yourself?”

“Yeah”

“How?”

“Hitchhiking” he replies raising his thumb.

“Hitchhiking?”

“Yes”

“You mean, you dropped everything and said I'm out of here, bye and hitchhiked to Seattle?”

“Village People inspired me”

“Uh?”

“Do you want to spend the night? Do you know the song?”

“Are you fucking high, Ed?”

At that point he explains it's about one of the infamous bets of Stone and Jeff and that part of our friends performed in the Melody Ballroom's parking lot. I know the place. I played that venue and I even saw Fugazi there. It's always made me smile thinking that they also do wedding and high school dances in that place. Well, congrats to the owner's versatility and open mindness.

“And at some point I thought: what the fuck am I doing here? And I asked some guys I already saw at some of our shows here if they could give me a ride” the reason he had this sudden realisation is right on the other side of that door, we both know, but none of us feels the need to point it out.

“And why did it take you so long?”

“Well, not that long...”

“How long have you been sitting on that fucking mat?” I ask when I finally find my fucking keys and try to fish them out.

“No, well, I've been here for an hour. Maybe two”

“And why?”

“Because it was too early”

“So fans dropped you here and then you noticed it was too early?”

“No, they didn't drop me here”

“And where?”

“At Pike Place” he answers like it's obvious and I'm stupid for asking.

“Pike Place” I nod and repeat, going along with him as you do with crazy people.

“I had to buy something” he adds grabbing the paper bag and putting it aside on the floor on his left side.

“But isn't it closed?” I ask skeptical.

“Bakeries open early”

“Ah” playing along, yeah, that's the best strategy.

“I had a coffee, something to eat, bought something for Angie, then came here”

“Hitchhiking?”

“Hahaha what? No, by street car!” once again he replies as if I'm the dork and maybe he's not entirely wrong.

“I came here and when I was about to ring the doorbell I realised it was like five o' clock in the morning”

“As another Village People's song says”

“Uhm, yeah... but what's that got to do with this?” he asks serious all of a sudden with a straight face and I basically burst out laughing at his face. With Eddie you never know if he's being serious or he's making fun of you and that's something I like in people. He surely must have understood I'm not exactly sane either, I think he learnt that the first time I took him out for a drink. Or when I showed up at the mini market and took him away after his shift ended, telling him I'd show him how local rockstars spend their friday nights. And we spent the night drinking beer and chasing my dogs, well Susan's dogs actually, in the woods.

“Hahaha nothing! So you parked your butt on that mat, right?”

“Yeah...” he answers, still confused “waiting for a more decent timing”

“Well, come on, half past seven seems acceptable” I walk up to him and try to ring the doorbell but Eddie stops me grabbing my wrist.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I haven't heard any sounds, she hasn't waken up yet. I'll wait until she gets up” I back up and picture Eddie putting his ear against the door waiting for the sound of the microwave blip or the toilet flush and I laugh my ass off, internally. Don't wanna hurt the guy”

“What about your stuff?”

“What stuff?”

“Your things, your bags”

“Oh I only had a backpack, it's on the van. Jeff will bring it to me, I think”

“You think?”

“Well, I think so”

“But... did you tell your bandmates you were going back home?”

“Mmm... wait... oh yes, I told Mike” oh well, in that case, you really got nothing to worry about.

“Was he sober when you told him?”

“It looked like...” while Eddie begins describing Mike's state during last night's aftershow, the door he was leaning his back against abruptly opens and he falls dead weight backwards. I figure out he's still alive when he finishes the sentence from Angie's apartment's floor “... he was... yes!”

“What the fu... Eddie? Chris?” the girl gives each one of us a confused look, as she ties the belt of her pink robe.

“Hi sweetie! I found this on your doormat. No name tag but he looks well fed” I joke while Eddie's still lying on the floor.

“Hi Angie!” he exclaims enthusiastically as he looks her up in all her... sugarcandyness? Does it exist? D'uh...

“Eddie! What are you doing on the floor, get up” Angie offers him her hand and he gladly accepts, he takes her hand and grabs the doorknob and gets up.

“I fell” haha yeah, it's pretty evident you fell for that chick, you jerk.

“Did you get hurt?” she asks perplexed.

“Nah”

“He didn't hit his head, that's just his natual self, trust me. Hey Eddie, be careful” I warn him pointing at the paper bag he's almost trampling on.

“Oh fuck, thanks Chris” he takes the bag and holds it like it was a newborn baby to cradle.

“What's that?” she asks, more and more puzzled, also because she must have just got up and as first activity of the day she has to deal with two assholes.

“Breakfast!” Vedder replies, all smug and pleased with himself.

“Oh... thank you... well, let's have breakfast” Angie points back to the inside of her apartment and I guess it's time to get out of here now, considering I also found my fucking keys.

“See ya then, ok?”

“Aren't you having breakfast with us?” she asks so innocently. Eddie's look is enough for me to find the right answer.

“No, thank you sweetie, I'm too tired. And just the idea of eating or drinking something right now makes my stomach cry”

“Mmh, ok, see you later then”

“Bye Chris!” Eddie disappears into her apartment.

“Good night guys... I mean, good morning... well, you got the idea”

“Night Chris”

****************************************************************************************************************************

“What the hell were you doing out here chatting? I heard noises and-” I close the door after I make sure Chris can walk straight enough to get to his apartment and as soon as I turn around I'm swept away by Eddie who engulfs me in a hug and corners me against the door.

“Sorry if we woke you up”

“N-no, but no! I... was already awake”

“I missed you”

“Oh, ehm, I missed you too” I reply and I really hope the mouthwash I used last night really has prolonged action as the label claims because Eddie's basically breathing against my lips, rubbing his nose against mine.

“So fuckin' much...” he's getting closer and I don't know where to look, if I should look, if I should close my eyes, kiss him, wait for him to kiss me, if I should just keep my mouth shut and enjoy the moment.

But I am keeping my mouth shut...

Well, you should shut up in your mind too, you idiot!

But not thinking... it's impossible. Even thinking about not thinking... it's a thought after all, isn't it?

But why are you coming up with this shit while Eddie's torturing you so sweetly? And your hands? Where the fuck did you put your hands?

Wait, I've got them... just... hanging, mid air, I'm basically hugging him with my elbows.

With your elbows? What the fuck, are you a mechanic? Not touching people with your hands dirty with grease?! You look like the young sheperd in nonna's presepe, the marvelled one, with his hands thrown up in the air.

I manage to interrupt the inner quarrel with myself for a moment and place my hands on Eddie's shoulders. He must perceive it as a green lights signal and kisses me.

Dave Gahan is nowhere to be seen or heard and the same goes for his bandmates, uncle Tome Jones doesn't show up, no Sonny, no Cher, nobody. For a minute there I almost feel like an adult, at least until I hear castanets clanking and Phil Spector literally throws the Crystals trio on stage unceremoniously.

He kissed me in a way that I've never been kissed before

He kissed me in a way that I wanna be kissed forever more

The concert doesn't end when Eddie pulls away for a second and looks at me in the eyes, as if he was searching for something. Maybe he's trying to understand if I'm on this planet or not and he already knows there'll be no point asking me directly. I don't know what kind of answer he finds but he must like it because he smiles, perfectly showing his fucking dimples... as if I needed other stimulation! And he kisses me again. This time it's small kisses slowly going from my lips to my cheek, then down towards the neck. One of his hands moves up along my hips, it may or may not, maybe I dreamt it, brush against my left boob. He tickles my arms even through a pretty thick layer of fleece, caresses my face and buries his hand into my hair, while his neck kisses turn into bites.

I gotta do something.

But I don't want to!

But you have to, can't you see you're panicking? Do you wanna wait until your head starts spinning, you see white dots and then you pass out like a loser?

It's so delightful though.

And what if he wants to do something more delightful?

I wish...

God, Angie, pull yourself together!

“What's in the bag?” I manage to snap out of it.

“Uhm?” he mumbles still nibbling on my neck and nape.

“In the bag you brought...”

“I told you... earlier... breakfast” he replies following the same trail as before but backwards, between kisses.

“That is?”

“Croissants” he reveals before planting a kiss on my nose.

“Custard cream?” I ask, suddenly very interested and for real, not just as an excuse to break this pleasurable moment.

“And chocolate” he nods deliciously, almost in a childish way “I took them very early this morning, for you, as soon as I arrived”

“By the way, when did you arrive?”

“Early” and he tells me about his hitchhiking and the different stops and everything that led him here to my place. And I'm still one with the door, crushed against it. And against Eddie, who doesn't show any intentions to let go of me. He did all that... for me? To see me a few hours earlier than we planned?

Well he must have problems if he hitchhikes with strangers at night only to see you with sleep in your eyes, still unshowered, your teeth unbrushed and your hair pinned up messily.

“Need to be warmed up then...”

“What?”

“Croissants, they must be cold now”

“Uh! Hehe well, yeah...” why is he blushing? But most of all, how many hands does he have? Theoretically he has one still in my half up half down hair and the other one on my left hip, but I feel his touch everywhere.

“Have breakfast now? I have to be in class in like one hour” I try and come back to my senses.

“Oh... do you really have to?” and do you really have to look at me like that?

“Huh... yeah, the monographic course about Renoir's waiting for me. And today the professor is gonna explain the passage from silent to sound movies, that is a very important part, which is gonna be in the exam too, so...”

“Ok” he lets go of me but takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen, where I spot the paper bag on the table. I was just wondering where he put it.

No, not true, you weren't wondering, you werent' thinking about the fucking bag at all.

Ok, can we just stop! Can we just shut up and stop quarrelling here? I'm trying to remain conscious and not to miss a second of this thing. And it's breakfast time now.

Eddie's hands are on my shoulders as I take the envelope out of the bag, I quickly open it and soon find out he bought like a ton of inviting croissants.

“Is this breakfast for the whole neighborhood?” I giggle.

“No, just for us” the grip on my shoulders gets tighter and a quick scorching kiss is planted on my cheek.

“I'm gonna warm four of them, ok?”

Eddie doesn't say anything, he just kisses me on the other cheek and I don't know if I'll make it to see La Chienne.

“Are you microwaving them?” he demands as I put the plate into the small oven.

“Yeah, but for a very short time or they... ehm, or they'll get too hard... like unedible rocks” just like me, stiffening all up like a board for kisses, caresses and hugs. Like this one, the tight hug from behind, with Eddie's curls tickling my neck.

“I trust you” he whispers into my ear.

I don't, I don't trust you at all, because you clearly want me dead.

When the croissants are ready I take the steamy plate our of the microwave and basically storm out of the kitchen and reach for the couch in the living room, placing our breakfast on the coffee table, thinking I'll be safe now. Safe from what? No idea. But it's just like jumping from the frying pan into the fire because Eddie walks up, leans on me and kisses me again, with resolution, before even touching the couch sitting beside me. His determination is put into practice as he literally throws himself on me and, as expected, I think I've just got into rigid corpse mode because Eddie pulls away almost immediately.

“Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah”

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, why?”

“Are you sure? You look... strange” he goes on with his inquiring ocean blue eyes that I'm looking up to and that look even deeper from such a close priviledged position.

“No, it's just... well, it's late and-”

“Too much?”

“Well, not too late but...”

“No, I mean... me... what I'm doing... Too much? Too fast?”

“NO!” I basically yell at his face so loud that I almost mess his hair. A devilish grin appears on his face and at this point I'm sure he totally knows the effect he has on me “Ehm no, it's not that, it's just... I really have class and I can't...”

“You're perfectly right, I'm sorry.” Eddie gives me a tiny little kiss on the lips that leaves me wanting ten thousand more just now and sits back down “And croissants are getting cold, that'd be a pity” he adds with a dimpled smile as he takes one with custard cream.

What about me? No, I definitely don't run the croissants' risk.

[hiyo-silver]

Dear Blue Birb, - Waffle House Confessions

Summary:  Martin joins Bill and Beverly at the waffle house to "practice lines". Martin seems to somehow get Bev to genuinely tolerate him, even getting her to open up about something she hasn't. It leaves Bill wanting to tell her something too.

Chapters 1 2 3 4 + AO3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @abbeyglover @s-tanleyuris

Bill comes to the conclusion that he should go along on whatever outing he asks Bev to go on with Martin. Just to supervise, make sure he doesn’t pull anything. He knows Martin meant it when he said he wanted a date, but Bill still can’t stand the idea of him being alone with Bev. She’s new this year, she doesn’t need to be immediately put off the school by the minority that Martin Addison is.

He already has Martin’s Snapchat in “has mutual friends” so it’s not very difficult to contact him. He sure as hell doesn’t want Martin to have his phone number. He’s not attached enough to his snap score to be above deleting his snapchat if he needed to. “You wanna meet me and Bev at the waffle house tonight? Going over lines.” he ends it with a period, showing he means business in his own passive aggressive way. He’s in no way here to make friends with him. He’s got enough friends.

The response comes quickly, it’s obvious the other teen has nothing better to do; though, Bill wouldn’t have thought he would. He agrees, there was almost no margin of a chance Bill would have gotten to get out of it. This is really his feeling of safety he’s talking about.

The evening comes too soon, and though Bill would usually be hungry for dinner by now, he’s so nervous that his stomach is turning over and over in knots. He hopes he’ll be able to eat though, he won’t be able to eat at home afterwards, he and Bev always go to the waffle house on Thursday because his parents are usually home and he doesn’t want so much to cook for himself when they’re around, the kitchen is an unwelcome place when it’s not just him. Though when he is alone it is like his own personal sanctuary.

Bill picks Beverly up from her house, he notices that there’s always a car in the driveway but he’s never met her parents, nor does she talk about them much. He elects to not ask though, seeing as he doesn’t talk about his family either. She slides into the passenger seat, she doesn’t get to sit there often, it’s essentially Eddie’s designated spot in their morning carpool.

“Hey,” she breathes out, her bag slung over her shoulder and her hair messy, flyaways on every angle of her head, just genuinely herself. Bill hasn’t told her Martin is joining them for their normal Thursday evening hang out, but hopefully she won’t be too upset when he slips into the booth with them, he can only hope.

“Hey, Martin is joining us,” he says quietly, pushing his left foot on the gas pedal again, trying to get the car moving before she could just get out at the idea of spending the evening with Martin Addison. If Bill has to do it, she should too. As well as the fact that Martin is fully ready to out him, Bill can’t let that happen.

“What?” Bev asks, looking uncomfortable already, her eyebrows going up in surprise, looking not angry, more so offended. She doesn’t like Martin Addison, not one bit. She’s already specifically uncomfortable with most boys, she has a hard time explaining why. Being the only girl in her group of friends is difficult, they don’t understand the danger of simply being a woman in America.

Bill sees her face and his heart sinks. All the losers trust him, but in that moment the trust and security in her face seems to drain away, and he’s never been more ashamed in the presence of one of his close friends. He may not have known Beverly for very long, but she’s just as much a part of their friend group as the ones who have always been around. Ben only moved here around five years ago, and Mike didn’t start going to Derry high with them until around three years before. The point is, Bev has found a place in all of their hearts, and thus a permanent place in their group.

“I’m sorry, I promised I’d help him go over the scenes we’re in, he isn’t that great at remembering lines and needed some help so I offered. If one of us in the cast fails, we all have failed,” he lies, though at least his reasoning seems valid enough, especially to Bev, who supposedly did theatre before she moved here. He feels awful lying, he avoids it as much as he can. But the prospect of his emails to Blue being leaked is even scarier than the idea of spending a few evenings with Martin Addison.

“Alright,” Bev sighs softly, “He’s sitting on the opposite side of the table to us, I’m sitting next to you, not him, and it’s not getting personal,” she says, her voice steady and serious, setting the ground rules for them. Nobody likes Martin, and she wouldn’t be an exception.

They get to the waffle house, Martin already had been dropped off by his mom and is standing in the area by the front door, looking out through the glass and visibly brightening when he sees them, he doesn’t seem to know how much he’s disliked, maybe it’s better that way. He steps out of the way to let them push the door open, immediately engulfed by a warmth only familiar to restaurants. “I picked us a booth, it’s by the window though and I don’t know how you guys would feel about it but the window seat just looked nice,” he rambles out. It almost makes Bill feel bad for him, he obviously craves friendship. Though he can’t excuse that he blackmailed him to get here.

“Window seat is fine,” Bill says quickly, snapping out the words, he’d just reminded himself the context of the situation. He has to get Bev to be nice, doesn’t mean he has to be. He’s often a nice person more in his head than in practice, but he doesn’t see it necessary to be kind to a blackmailer, which may be a bad decision in itself. This is about Martin knowing things he could tell others, after all.

“Yeah, I like that booth,” Beverly says absently. She’s trying to distract herself from the situation about as much as Bill is. If only she knew the half of it, she’d probably be a lot more sympathetic.

But Bill isn’t ready to come out. He doesn’t know why, his parents would probably not care, his friends would be cool with it, heck, they all know Eddie’s gay, he came out to them only in late middle school. He doesn’t seemingly have anything to lose, he just doesn’t have the balls to tell anyone upfront yet.

He thinks maybe he’ll come out once he hits college, it seems like the perfect life transition. Faking it through high school, then going to college and be able to “gay it up” all he wants. He could listen to musicals and wear all sorts of rainbow paraphernalia, but he’s just not ready for that yet.

They go over to the booth, the ketchup and mustard bottles decorated with googly eyes and a black construction paper jack o lantern grin, the cafe doing its little bit to prepare for the Halloween season, Bill already knows what his costume is going to be. He and Eddie are going to be Buzz and Woody from Toy Story, they often do partnered costumes, have since they were young.

Bill pulls the script out of his bag, the others following suit. Martin drops his on the table dramatically as he plops on the worn faux leather seat. The red shade of the booth is fading, which probably would look okay if it weren’t for the long stripes of duct tape covering the holes formed from years of use. “What scene do you want to start at?” he asks, looking over at Bev for the answer, not really in the mood to hear Martin talk again.

“From the top. It’s easiest that way,” she announces, looking over at Martin with a less than pleased expression. He’s sitting there and looking over the menu, licking his lips at the images, it only sends a shiver down her spine.

“Martin, you listening?” Bill looks over and asks, shoving his shoulder gently enough, just to get his attention on the task at hand. Maybe Bev would be able to tolerate him more than Bill can.

They do sit and go over lines in hushed monotone voices for a while, Martin’s slowly getting more dramatic, making obvious efforts to impress Bev. It’s not exactly working but she can admire his bravery, using his outdoor-loud-projected voice inside a diner with only one other table seated.

They hit the break between the two acts, leaving them a break to order waffles, Bill hoping and praying to himself that Martin won’t pull anything. Bev probably wouldn’t take any flirting. A few bites in, Martin makes a joke and Beverly actually laughs, and it seems genuine. And for now, Bill feels safe.

He pulls out his phone and refreshes his email, seeing the bold text of an unopened message from Blue, which tugs temptingly at Bill’s heart strings, he wants to open it now but he knows he can’t in here, not with Bev’s prying eyes right next to him. “Gotta take a leak,” he excuses himself, sliding out of the booth.

Bev and Martin are too deep in conversation to notice Bill not going in the direction of the bathroom, the bathroom here isn’t too clean, but instead he goes right out the front door and opens the email.

Dear Big B,

Halloween is coming up, I think you mentioned you had plans? I don’t know what I’m gonna do on the 31st quite yet. Probably just stay home and eat the orange Halloween Oreos. They’re the best kind, and you can fight me on that.

Do you have plans with friends? Or something with your family. You haven’t brought up a younger sibling but I assume you have one based on your email address, are you taking them trick or treating?

Sorry for such a short email, night with my mom, hope to catch up more soon.

Sincerely yours,

Blue Birb.

Bill smiles at the playfulness of the first paragraph, though the question of the second one hurts a bit. He’s been on his toes waiting for that question. There’s a reason he hasn’t asked about Blue’s choice in email address. He doesn’t want to explain his, it would give him away. He’ll always be known to Derry as the kid whose brother died in the fifth grade, at least to those who have lived here since then.

He tries to brush it off, hearing the jingle of the opened door behind him, expecting to see Bev or Martin finally coming to seek him out now that they surely must have realized he’s not in the bathroom. Instead, a blonde boy comes out, his eyes a shining blue that reigns similar to Bill’s own eyes. “Hey,” the other teen breathes out, a puff of warm air hitting the cool air becoming visible for a few moments, a true sign of the incoming fall and winter weather.

“Hey,” Bill smiles back smoothly, shutting his phone off and shoving it into his pocket swiftly, somehow paranoid that this total stranger would read his private emails with his anonymous lover. It’s silly, really, but he almost likes the feeling of having a nice secret to himself, even through the moments of wanting to shout about Blue from the rooftops. He has this just to himself, and it makes him feel special for about the first time since he was young.

“Food okay?” the boy asks, brushing his hands on his apron absently, the same busboy who had served the table Bill was sitting at before. Bill offers the nervous teen a smile, trying to pass him some sort of comfort, Bill would like to consider himself less than threatening.

“Yeah, really good, as always,” Bill says with a coy smile. He’s only ever so charming when he’s making no effort to do so. It’s ended in numerous school dances with girls he doesn’t like, he never had any intention to attract them, obviously. He doesn’t even like girls. Or does he? He’s not even sure about that yet. All he knows is that he had dream after dream about Daniel Radcliffe after reading the Harry Potter series when he was thirteen.

“Good,” the boy says with his own smile, obviously mostly done with the conversation. Bill could almost take him for smitten with him. His mind begins to wander, if only he knew who Blue is. He likes it being anonymous, mostly because then Blue doesn’t know who he is, it feels safe. But other times he yearns with all of himself to hold the other boy’s hand.

Bill steps back inside, the warm air soothing his cooled skin. He shoves his hands into his pockets and sliding back into the booth next to Beverly, who’s still deeply engrossed in a conversation with Martin. Maybe getting Martin a full fledged date with her wouldn’t be so hard. Bill thinks that, at least until Martin asks why Bev moved to Derry, which she always avoids talking about, even with the losers.

“Well, uh, some stuff happened with my dad, my mom left him and kinda just ran and left me living with him. He wasn’t... great and now I moved here with my aunt,” she says, visibly uncomfortable reliving the subject of the story, “But that’s behind me.” she ends with a certain finality, to most people it would very obviously mean she’s not going to talk about it anymore.

“Well, your dad can suck my dick. You deserve better than that. You’re a princess and you deserve a goddamn prince. Don’t get me wrong, you aren’t a damsel in distress, no knight needed. But you deserve a prince who will take care of you,” Martin says, slamming a fist on the table, Bev obviously becoming rigid with the words. She’d rather not think of her father in relation to other guys under any circumstances. He’s behind her, those experiences are behind her, and if she tries hard enough, they don’t even feel like her own.

“Yeah…” she mumbles in a soft voice, rubbing her neck awkwardly and looking down at a spot on syrup on the table, shaking her head ever so slightly to watch the square of fluorescent light dance over the sticky droplet.

“No, seriously, say it, Beverly Marsh deserves a fucking prince,” Martin says, his voice demanding and only gaining volume in the small, nearly empty diner. It makes Bev squirm a little in her seat, mortified now that it’s being shouted alongside her name. “Bev, I said say it! I’m gonna keep saying it until you admit it,” Martin eggs her on, getting up on his knees on the bench to seem bigger than he is. He cups his hands around his mouth, “Beverly Marsh deserves a prince,” he chants, probably getting it out two and a half times before Bev shoots up from her seat.

“Fine, Martin! I deserve a fucking prince,” she says, matching his volume with her pent up frustration, panting for air once the words come out. “Fuck you,” she sighs out as she sits again, red in the face. She doesn’t mean it in full malice, moreso relief. She doesn’t yell often, and though the situation wasn’t ideal, it felt good to raise her voice once in a while.

The rest of the evening goes on pretty normally. Martin’s mom comes to pick him up. Finally. Bill couldn’t take another minute of him. The goal may have been to get Bev to like him to protect Bill’s closeted status, but it still made his blood boil to see Bev laugh and smile along with Martin’s words.

He pulls his autumn jacket back over his shoulder with a huff as the door closes behind Martin. Finally alone with his friend again. The saddest part is that Martin knows his biggest secret but one of his best friends doesn’t. He slides out of the booth and puts his hand out to Beverly, quite gentlemanly so if he would say so himself. “Back to the car m’lady?” he purrs in a voice that aligns with his character in the show.

“Oh so now you decide to be dramatic and go along with it.” She rolls her eyes at him, taking his hand and sliding her way out of the booth, the slight heel of her shoes clicking quietly on the linoleum.

“But of course, Martin is gone,” he jokes, already pulling her to the car, watching the busboy from earlier wipe down tables and now feeling out of place now that it’s closing time. He finds that he feels out of place a lot, like as if he’s a unicorn in a sea of zebras. It’s not always bad though, just a bit isolating.

She follows him, moving a bit faster than he is, her legs are shorter and she falls about a head shorter than him overall, getting the slightest bit winded trying to keep up with his long gait. “Hey, maybe he isn’t so awful, just misunderstood, that’s all,” she says. Miss Beverly “try and find the good in people” Marsh back at it again. But this is the first time it’s really made Bill hurt and he can’t even tell her why.

He slows down after he notices her struggle. He doesn’t mean to go so fast. He assumes it’s his subconscious trying to run off some steam. He doesn’t mean to take it out on her, or anyone really. He’s just not used to being this stressed. He’d kept this to himself for so long, so many held breaths and quiet moments that could have been moments mapping out his coming out story. Instead he’s stayed in the closet, and all he has to show for it is some romantic emails with a boy he isn’t even sure he’s met. He hopes, maybe even begs the universe, that this could be a part of an amazing love story too.

He gets into the driver’s seat wordlessly, letting his eyes wander to peek over at Bev getting in on the passenger side. He waits for her buckle to click before he turns to her, “What was that about? In the waffle house, about your dad I mean,” he asks in a soft voice. He wouldn’t make her talk if she didn’t want to. He knows how that can be. St-st-stuttering Bill would know best.

“My dad just wasn’t that great sometimes. He’d take me to the movies and buy me ice cream but that doesn’t make up for.. Y’know,” she says softly, and of course Bill knows. It’s just the kind of thing that doesn’t need to be said out loud. The kind of thing that makes even grown men cry when they talk about their own experiences if they’ve been unlucky enough to have them. And in that moment, Bill knows Bev hasn’t talked aloud about this, maybe to anyone.

He feels almost as if he owes her something of equal weight. Beverly Marsh just grew ten times stronger in his perception with just those few words. He can only hope to be that brave. “Bev, I’m gay.”

“Yeah?” she replies, a bit taken aback with the suddenness after the solemn quiet only moments before. “You know that’s okay, right?” she follows up after seeing his face fall at her reaction.

“Yeah- yeah, you’re not- surprised?” he asks, looking down at the glovebox, finding it hard to meet her eyes.

“Not particularly. It’s not a big deal, right?” she says, bringing herself down a little in hopes of pulling his gaze back up to meeting her own.

“I’ve just- I’ve never told anyone before,” he says sheepishly, his blue eyes flickering to the backseat for just a second. Coming out somehow felt like a weight lifted from his shoulders again, though it feels a bit wrong not to bring up Blue or the emails or the blackmailing. But she may just be mad he used her, even though it’s not like that. With Martin knowing but nobody else he’s almost felt like he was being watched at all times, eyes glued to his back.

“I’m proud of you,” Beverly says back to that, he eyes shining in a way Bill hasn't seen them shine before, and for once since all this. He feels at ease. He finally drives Bev home and goes up to his room, sighing before his laptop screen.

Dear Blue Birb,

Yeah I have halloween plans, this guy who sits with my friends, Stan is having a Halloween party and we’re going to that as a group. I don’t know if I’m dressing up this year. My brother goes to a school where he’s not home much.

Bill swallows a little at the lie, he’ll have to correct that later if they ever do reveal their identities and Blue finds out the true state of his brother, but for now the only thing he really feels bad about is lying about Georgie. He doesn’t like hiding things about his brother, he feels like it’s disrespectful to him to seem so secretive about his existence, but he has to convince himself that just for now it’s okay. Only to protect his identity.

[themanicgalaxy]

SPN 6X20 the Man who Would be King

AHAHAA

OHOHO

HEHEHEHE

I AM QUITE EXCITED ABOUT THISSSSS

ok he's meditating

OH THE FISH

"don't you step on that fish" AHASIDPSFHA

ah yes I love leaning into how OLD cas is

two boys, an old drunk and a fallen angel AHH

This..this is a good recap

WHY IS THIS ALL THE WAY HERE

WHO IS HE TALKING TO?

Is

IS HE TALKING TO US??

IS THAT DIRECTED TO THE AUDIENCE??

WHAT

HeLlO DEaN

he checks in :)

"you'll call, right? if you get into real trouble" HE'S AN ALL POWERFUL ANGEL AND DEAN IS W O R R I E D

AWWW

HE'S SO HURT TOO ASDFIJSAPDHSP

talk to Crowley

love the aesthetics

why did we have to see the eggs

ErOtic vALuE

DisTraCteD

just

"the stench of that impala's all over your overcoat angel"

NEITHER OF THEM EVER SAY NO EITHER

...Crowley's trying to keep them away huh

WINCHESTERS GUARDIAN

oh my god the reforming holy shit

TWAS CASSSSS

lmao forgot ur soul sorry

Arrogance Hubris

ah and he was like

popping in and around

NO KILLING THE WINCHESTERS

"I'll just bring them back again" Oh myGOD

DENIM WRAPPED NIGHTMARES

they do keep killing things

both? die??

ok so a hunter demon thing that's working for crowley

Sam and Bobby working together is neat tho

stabbed the leg

Dean is the only one that takes issue with this

awwwww Dean

Bobby is also a Cas stan

oh SHIT HE'S RIGHT THERE

paranoid bastards

"superman who's gone dark side" BEN EDLUND I LVOE YOU

Dean

babe ur lois lane

"dean trying so hard to be loyal with every instinct telling him otherwise" WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

LOYALTY TO CAS

THAT'S WHAT THAT LINE MEANT

OH MY GOD

OH MY GOD

DEMON COUNTERPART TO BOBBY SINGER

THE LIL COMPARTMENTALIZING FLICK TO HUMAN OH MY GOD

MANS IS PROTECTIVE OF WINCHESTERS AND WINCHESTERS ONLY

"I did it to protect the boys or myself" waHTIRWTJHAPSD

no confrontaTION OHH

"maybe they run from us now"FASDISPAFJSFP

he just wants to go to heaven

everyone with their own personal heavens

Cas

Chose you

AWW NO HE JUST WANTS FREE WILL

"freedom is a length of rope, god wants you to hang yourself with it" DSFKAOSH

"teaching poetry to fish" dfsKAP

FISH

"who's heaven is this"

and Raphael wants it to go back oh

"god's will is what I want"

"they were built to follow"

jesus christ

NOOO CAS

"we'd call Cas" :(

:(((((

:((((

HE WANTS TO BELIEVE IN HIM SO BAD

HE COULD HEAR THEM

HE DIDN'T WANT TO MAKE IT WORSE

BOTH SAM AND BOBBY ARE LIKE “dean come one it’s very likely he betrayed us” and Dean “trust issues” “Paranoid bastard” Winchester is like

this hurts me

HE COULD ALWAYS HEAR THEM

HE WAS SCARED OH MY GOD

THE KNOWLEDGE THAT EVERY SINGLE TIME THEY CALLED AND CAS DIDN’T COME HE WANTED TO BUT HAD OTHER SHIT THAT COULD HAVE HURT THEM, BUT THEY DIDN’T KNOW ABOUT IT

ok demon fight

oo the freeze frames

CAS HELPED

HE HELPED

OH HE'S SO FUCKED

"I was me again" figadf'si

Dean: what do you think guys, Cas saved us again isn't he cool

I love them

"they trusted me again"

NO

NO HE MADE THE SAME REFERENCE BOBBY MADE

HE'S SO HAPPY TO MAKE THE REFERENCE

DEAN'S SO HAPPY TO HEAR IT

THEY'RE SMILING AT EACH OTHER

"you're the very picture of mental health"

PROTECTIVE CAS

MANS IS STILL AN ANGEL HELL YEAH

he can't beat them to get free will without crowley

He wanted to ask Dean

but he wanted Dean out of it

he just

watched Dean

angel of thursday

the "I'm an angel" are gREAT

....ONCE AGAIN THE DESTIEL WITH NO REBUKE

HE KEEPS LOOKING BACK AT DEAN

ah the waiting in line hell

"you've got sex appeal" "thank you"

HE started THE CIVIL WAR?

I mean I kinda knew that but still

and he needs resources

HE'S SO PROTECTIVE OF DEAN AW

Cuz Crowley's king of hell, so he can peddle more souls

and he wants security

oho hand shots

MANS STARTED THE CIVIL WARRR

Road to Hell Good Intentions YadaYADA

NO THE HOLY OIL FIRE

THEY FLAGGED THE REFERENCE

he's panicking, Sam and Bobby are panic pushing in, and Dean

...oh no Dean

HE SOUNDS SO SAD

protect you, protect ALL of you WHARIPDH WHAT THE FUCK

he avoided the confrontation because he knew he would get a No

shit

lighting also MAKES IT SO MUCH WORSE

to be fair, you ALL SUCK AT COMMUNICATING

"why keep a secret if you knew it was wrong" oh my god

"it sounds so simple when you say it like that"

"Where were you when I needed to hear it" "I was there, where were you"

DEAN WANTED TO HELP

Shit and now they're coming

AND HIS FIRST THOUGHT WAS STILL RUN

his voice cracked too because of the voice

THE LOOK BACK

oh my god

whoops it's crowley

he's still protecting them

"I know what I am" oh MY GOD CAS NOOO

"what exactly are you willing to do" foads'

all the sigils holy shit

HE GOT IN

OH NO THE ANGEL PROOFING IS WRONG

DEAN TAUGHT HIM FREEDOM AND FREE WILL

NO YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING

VISUALS

"you and bobby are family"

NOOO BROTHERZONED

granted that's because that's the only thing that's stuck around

"I'm an angel" again

STOP THE ULTIMATUMS OH MY GOD

He's talking to god?

I feel like he's talking to us

"give me a sign"

and nothing

I

1. I...think I could track how many times he said I'm an angel, and what that meant, and the context. The way he used it to justify, that self-righteousness is still there, but he still..he wants to help

road to hell I guess

2. that superman line was not only genuinely good the first time, but the INSTANT I heard it again, I knew it was going to get flagged. AND THE LITTLE SCENE WHERE THEY'RE ALL SMILING NO

3. That little Sastiel interaction. I wish there was more of them. There's...I feel like there's so much there

4. Dean's refusal to believe cas was bad, the loyalty, the pleading. I think the ultimatums are the only thing Dean's dad ever did, and it's the only thing he's got. He desperately wants Cas to be with him(yes that too), and he can't express it.

5. Cas on the other hand, runs. He's got the flight instinct(Like SAM!!) and he tries to not get into uncomfortable situations, thinking it's best for everyone involved if he's not there. But he's also incredibly protective, but the boys don't see it, they get the betrayal. And Cas can't interpret Dean's loyalty as what it is because DEAN IS THE ONLY FRAME OF REFERENCE CASTIEL HAS

6. Like honestly speaking of, he's in WAY over his head. He BARELY got a shot at this free will thing, and then he started a civil war. He's going off of "I'm an angel"(heh) and "Free will good" and that's ALL he has!! oh my GOD!! get him a HUG!!

7. Honestly, this whole thing felt like "I wasn't given many places to put Cas's plot in there, so here, get all of it

8. Also the fact that he was kinda talking to the audience?? like that feels important, especially with the meta plot.

9. And even that! Cas constantly trying to justify it to himself oh my god

10. I THOGUHT Y'aL LWER KIDING

I THOUGHT IT WAS AN EXAGERRATION

OH MY GOD

11. Also the visuals were nice I guess. Like. I liked the lore and visuals they used, they were really cool

12. What the fuck.

I genuinely thought season 5 was the peak. And now this. Now this. What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK IT'S GONNA KEEP COMING