#and like. have you guys seen the ones where the actors have knee pads and stuff so they can sprint at people on all fours

[perilegs]

it's again that time of the year when i see these gorgeous american amusement or theme parks have high quality and budget halloween decorations and scare actors and i'm filled with jealousy, yearning, etc.

[ohnobjyx]

Taking care of you

Hi, guys! I initially wrote this post for an ask, but it got too long to be included, so I separated it in another post.

Disclaimer: fake info.

I’d like to highlight the moments they take care of each other. It must be because of how my own relationship works, but I really feel there’s something real between them when I see them just caring for each other.

Dd taking care of gg

From gg’s angle, I think the biggest clue is not just him taking care of dd, but letting himself be taken care of. From my experience, a independent, proud and competitive person like gg admitting that he doesn’t want to do something, asking for help or letting others defend him like dd does, shows a great deal of trust in the other person. He trusts the other one to do the right thing, to say the right words. And that’s present from start to finish in all of their events.

In the Thai fanmeeting (0:13-0:40 here), when asked a difficult question, gg and dd both said: “you answer”. Gg said in a very low voice “I don’t want to answer”, so dd inmediately turned to the reporter and thought of an answer. However, his answer was too short, so gg jumped in to complete it. Gg is perfectly capable of taking care of himself in events and interviews. He has done so before and continues to do so. However, whenever he’s with dd, he relaxes more, and lets dd take the reins or   even asks him to (he asked him in this segment, but dd always rushes to defend him if needs arises, like the “you look at the waist” or the “why rush into marriage” moments). That doesn’t mean that he just disconnects, but remains attentive so he can help dd too if necessary. The way they rely and complete each other is really cp goals.

In CQL bts (the scene of the boat), dd keeps peeling lotus seeds for gg and giving them to him. Gg just naturally takes the seeds from him, and when YB hands him another stem, he just hands it to dd. If it wasn’t dd, just any other coworker, I don’t think gg would bear to just sit there and have another person peeling lotus seeds for him. He’d probably peel them himself, because that’s the “polite” thing to do. However, there’s no such need with people you’re really close to, and gg just sitting there speaks volumes of their closeness to each other.

(And note that when YB asks dd to pass him a lotus seed, dd just throws an unpeeled one to him, and YB has to peel it himself, because dd is only peeling lotus seeds for gg. Dd’s double standards).

In TTXS 11th anniversary, dd brings gg as his special guest. Gg says: “wang-laoshi please take care of me”, and dd answers: “I can’t even take care of myself”. But in the episode, he never leaves gg’s side, slows down the dance so gg can follow and jumps in to dance himself when gg is asked to and uncomfortable to say “no” (note that he also defended gg in the Thai fan meeting interview, when the reporter asked if gg could dance for them, dd was the first one to answer “no”)

Gg’s hearing is quite poor, so he often misses hosts’ questions. Dd is used to it by now: sometimes gg doesn’t even needs to ask him and dd will already be turning to him to repeat the question to him. I can think of at least three times that dd helped him like that: (1), (2) and (3)

(In Tencent Awards night, gg didn’t even hear the host telling him to stay for a bit, and only stopped after seeing dd. He didn’t hear anything the hosts said either. What is remarkable is that dd started to explain as soon as he turned. How did you know that gg hadn’t heard anything if you were facing the other side, dd?)

In Nanjing concert (191101), gg had a infection in the throat (faringitis). He could barely talk in the practice, and it’s part of the reason he’s much more silent in that concert. His throat was bothering him at the end of the concert, when they were both singing WuJi, so dd just simply sang his lines for him, hitting the high notes even though his voice isn’t suited for them. He continued to sing the leading voice of the song, just so gg could rest his voice. Gg’s reaction is so sweet too (his surprised stare, their smiles, gg nodding his head giving his thanks... judge for yourselves). He was smiling much more afterwards too.

Gg taking care of dd

But of course, gg also takes care of dd. As I’ve said, this goes to them both.

We’ve the famous knee pads moment in the 9-minutes boat video. Gg notices injuries in dd’s knees and looks very sad when he asks “b-but these are new injuries?”. They even bicker for a second, but gg keeps looking at dd’s knees and out of concern asks him to wear knee-pads. We all know that more than a year after that, dd is indeed listening to gg’s words, even though at first he laughed at them and asked “who would wear knee pads?”.

In the same 9-minute boat video, gg also asks him “I heard yesterday was so hot that an extra fainted... how were you?”. From my pov, this video allows us a small glimpse into how they interact, and by dd’s answer I think it’s usual for gg to be caring and attentive of dd. Even when they are playing and joking around, gg keeps in mind dd’s health, like when he said “yes, I’ll let you off since you haven’t slept for 2-3days and that’s sad. Rest well, please” here.

I don’t even think gg was thinking of anymore than just friendship with dd at that moment. But it already started to show that he cared a lot about him.

There are also multiple instances of gg taking care of dd’s throat. For some reason, it seems dd is very prone to colds and coughs (he once said he was the kind of kid that got sick every season, and I don’t think the idol life workload is doing anything to fix that).

Bxg digged out that gg gave dd a certain brand cough drop in the Thai fan meeting (and it’s the same one he was sharing with the other hosts in SDoC). Then we jump at Tencent Awards night. Gg sees that dd has something candy-like in his mouth and inmediately asks: “does your throat hurt?”. The amount of knowledge necessary here: as his cohosts from SDoC demonstrates for us, when we see a friend eating a candy, it’s more normal to ask “oh, you’re eating a candy?”. But gg inmediately knows that it’s a cough drop, most likely because he knows that dd doesn’t like sweets and snacks and he gave him those. From there, we jump to gg’s worry about dd “does your throat hurt?”.

In TTXS episode with gg, at the end, when they are eating meat skewers, gg advises dd to eat less of them: “they have black pepper, it’s bad for the throat”. For me, it’s a sign of how gg takes care of dd in a more domestic and daily basis. The comment is taken naturally by dd, as if he’s used to it.

(Actually, I’d like to know what gg has to say about dd eating so many spicy hotpots with his cough. In traditional Chinese medicine, “spicy, sweet, oily and alcohol” are the four prohibitions for people who want to take care of their voice and their throat. By gg’s comments and the brand of cough drops he gives dd, I’m almost sure he wouldn’t like dd mistreating his throat like this).

I’m sure most of you has noticed the next one, but gg always clears the seat for dd. He did so in Nanjing fan meeting, and took the papers and the pen away so dd didn’t sit on them, and again cleared the seat next to him in Tencent awards. So when gg wasn’t sitting next to him in w/ibo night, dd simply sat with a water bottle behind him, and gg noticed when he sat in dd’s seat later, when dd had left.

(It’s also interesting to analyze gg’s movement in Tencent Awards. Everyone in that sofa where sitting widely apart from each other, so a pen placed next to gg shouldn’t bother dd if he simply took his seat keeping the same distance everyone was keeping. But gg assumed naturally that dd would be sitting next to him).

(At the left, an actress who is rumoured to follow other actors cp’s, and was seen observing gg and dd that night quite closely).

Also from Tencent Awards night, dd was confused as to how to leave the stage, which gg kindly points him the correct way. The same thing, though much more subtle, appears again at the w/ibo night, when with a glance from dd, gg points the way with his fan for dd.

Gg also cares about dd’s career. In c-culture, connections and relationships with important people play a large part in your success in any industry. So at first gg was standing between ZLY and dd, but when he noticed ZLY talking with dd, he just gently pushed dd towards her, so they could chat.

This is why I don’t really believe in the famous video of a “jealous gg moment” (when they got off stage and were walking down the stairs, dd looked at ZLY, and that glance was supposedly seen by gg, who stormed off, leaving dd behind). I think gg didn’t react like that because of dd (though he did look at him), but because someone signaled him from afar. 

Dd even waited for ZLY to get on stage, and offered his help to her because she was wearing a long dress. This was also seen by gg, who turned to check if dd was following. If this moment didn’t get a reaction from gg, and he doesn’t react poorly when they both chatted at his side, I don’t know why dd just looking at her afterwards would sit so badly with gg (and we get back to the fact of ZLY being married and with a baby).

At the Nanjing concert, in the first day, when gg and dd were singing Wu Ji, there were some problems with their earphones. You can actually see them trying to fix it from here. However, dd ends up taking off his, and there’s a moment of silent communication, where I think dd was asking gg to cue him the start of the next part of the song (which is dd’s). From here, you can see gg keeping up with the beats of the song, and see him pointing with the mic towards dd when is his turn to start singing.

I particularly love this Wu Ji interpretation from them, because it’s first dd asking gg for help, and inmediately after, dd taking care of gg.

They rely on each other, trust each other and they move around each other like the other one is meant to be in their personal space. Neither gives or receives more help from the other, they are in an equally balanced relationship. Now you can take this and compare it to real relationships you know of to get your own conclusions about whether it resembles a romantic relationship or a strong friendship.

[mycatshuman]

Wrapped Up In A Rom Com

Chapter 3: Mom?!?!?!?

🏳️‍🌈 First off, happy pride month. Second, yeah I know it's been months. And I've had this in my draft for months. I'm sorry. Honestly, I've been watching a lot of the Dreamsmp and playing games on my phone and preparing for graduation. So yeah. I'll try to get back to writing but I cant promise anything.

Warnings: some swearing, mentions of leeches used as a medical practice, let me know if I missed any

Last | Next | More

🏜

"There it is." Roman's eyes lit up as he saw the temporary house that had been set up for the group of archeologists to live in as they excavated the site. Virgil smiled slightly. Roman looked really pretty in that moment that he wasn't even going to try and deny that he was looking. He dragged his eyes away from the mummy and sighed. "Now we just have to get inside." 

The pair moved up the stairs and Virgil pulled out his key and unlocked the door. "Now, try to stay quiet. Everyone's asleep and I don't know if I'm ready to try to explain this." Virgil paused. "Hell, I don't think I'll ever be ready to explain this to anyone." Virgil and Roman quietly stepped into the house and closed the door behind them. "Sorry, it's a little dark so bear with me." 

Suddenly, with a click, a lamp flared on across from them. The two froze. Virgil looked over and pulled in a hiss through his teeth. His boss sat there in an old armchair, his arms crossed and his mouth pulled down in a frown. "Where have you been?" 

Virgil's eyes shoot down to the floor. "Uhhhhh." Roman looked back and forth between the two, confusion evident on his face. Virgil attempted to inch his way to his room only to crumble to the floor as he put pressure on his injured ankle. 

"Virgil!" Roman dropped to his knees to help catch the other as the other man surged to his feet and rushed to their aid. Roman held Virgil up as the other man kneeled before them. 

"What did you do?" The man asked. 

Virgil winced. "I fell." 

The man paused and raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Virgil bit his lip. "Uh, no. I don't think I do care to elaborate, Logan." 

Logan rolled his eyes. "You are ridiculous." 

Virgil forced a grin that was really more of a grimace. "What happened is even more ridiculous and you wouldn't believe me so…"

Logan leaned forward and pulled off Virgil's shoe and began to unwrap his ankle to take a look at the injury. "Maybe you shouldn't assume whether or not I would believe you." 

"Alright, I went for a walk and fell through the hole of a tomb that is practically completely untouched and I found the burial chamber and then the mummy came to life and now he's here." 

Logan paused in his attendance to Virgil's ankle. "You're right, I don't believe you." 

Virgil groaned. "Come on, Logan! Look at him, he's real. He was a mummy not even five hours ago!" 

Logan huffed. "Honestly, Virgil. That is the most outrageous thing I have ever heard." 

"But it's true!" 

"He's right, I am a mummy, er, I was a mummy."

"I'm offended. Seriously, if you were going to try and fool me you could at least get a convincing actor."

Roman gasped, outraged. "Excuse you! But I am an absolutely amazing actor!" 

"It's not a prank!" 

Roman quickly pulled out a statue of himself he had grabbed from his tomb. "Look!" He shoved the statue into Logan's face, nearly knocking the others glasses off. 

Logan rolled his eyes but took the statue to look at it better. As he adjusted his glasses, he studied the statue before looking up at Roman. "You do look a little similar but that doesn't prove anything. All it proves is you look similar to him." He inspected the statue some more. He frowned. "This is in incredibly good condition." He glanced at Roman suspiciously. "Did you fake this?" 

Virgil groaned and let his head fall back into Roman's chest and whatever Roman was about to respond with just vaporized as his brain short circuited. Guy on chest. Guy on chest. Guy on chest! 

"Logan, why can't you just believe me? Why would I make this up? Why would I sit here and make a fool of myself in front of you?" Virgil sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Whatever." He attempted to drag himself up only for Logan to stop him. 

"Hey, no. I still have to check your ankle." 

The room went silent as Logan checked Virgil's ankle. Roman watched on with curiosity.  

"It's still swollen. Maybe you need to get some leeches." 

Virgil went rigid and Logan froze. "I'm sorry, What?" 

"Wait, do you not use leeches anymore?"

Virgil's nose scrunched in disgust. "No! We've long since moved past that." He shook his head. "I don't even want to begin to think of what else you might possibly suggest for medical problems." 

Logan went quiet as he quickly finished inspecting Virgil's ankle and stood up to go grab an ice pack. The archeologist student frowned. His boss was being uncharacteristically silent. Something was up. When the other came back, he kneeled once again and gently pressed the ice to the ankle. Virgil bent forward and held the pack in place as Logan sat back. 

"I-" The other began before closing their mouth again. Virgil watched Logan hesitantly as Roman poked at the ice pack. 

"It's cold!" The mummy exclaimed. 

Logan shook his head."I-" he sighed. "Virgil, I hope you understand how hard it is for me to grasp this or even entertain the possibility of this. But maybe this is real. But, we're going to have to do tests." 

"Tests?" Roman asked as his attention shot up to look at the other. 

Logan nodded. "Yes, to see if I can find any bit of evidence to support your claims." 

"Great, now can I please go to bed, I'm fucking exhausted." 

"Of course, I'll see you in the morning." 

Logan left and Roman and Virgil were alone once again. The latter huffed before pulling himself up and began limping up the stairs. "Come on, I have a second bed in my room. You can sleep there." Together, they went up to the second floor and down the hall until they reached another flight of stairs. "I'm suddenly regretting choosing the attic as my room," Virgil complained. 

Roman followed, eyes wide as he took in the walls around him. It was so different from what he was used to. And that was exciting. But the hallways were nothing compared to Virgil's room. Inside, he found a desk against one wall and two beds. On the desk there was this strange rectangular silver thing that sat flat against the desk and a small container with small tube-like objects sticking out of it. Next to it, a pad of sorts sat. Roman was so absolutely excited to find out what all of these new objects were. It would be his greatest adventure yet. He just knew it!

----------

Virgil dropped his bag by the door as he limped over to his bed and fell face first into the blankets. Roman yelped. "Don't do that! You'll hurt yourself!" 

Virgil lifted his head up, confusion spread across his face. "What?" He asked before he remembered what the ancient Egyptians used to sleep on. He let out a laugh. "Oh no! These are soft. There's a bedframe, which would be similar to what you used to sleep on but we added a mattress that's soft and it's better for our bones." The archeologist pushed himself up and patted the bed. "Come on, see for yourself." 

Roman set his basket done on the floor and walked over to the other bed curiously. Virgil watched on with amusement. Quickly, the mummy quickly poked the mattress as if it would bite him if he let his finger linger on the object for any longer. 

Virgil laughed lightly. "Don't worry, it won't bite." 

Roman stuck his tongue out at the other before turning back to the bed once more. He reached forward slowly and pushed his hand into the mattress. Sparkles sprung up in his eyes as he felt the soft blankets. Carefully, he climbed up into the bed noting the lack of pain on his skin that used to come with the bed he once slept in before he died. Tentatively, he bounced. Laughter bubbled up out of his mouth and he looked over at Virgil. 

The emo's breath caught in his throat as he caught sight of the Pharaoh's eyes. His dark eyes were overflowing with joy and wonder. He had never seen anything so beautiful. He watched in awe as Roman began bouncing gleefully on his bed, giggles bubbling out into the room. Virgil smiled softly and laid down, perfectly content with watching the greatest treasure from Roman's tomb as he experienced pure joy for the first time in thousands of years. 

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

If last night was anxiety inducing, it was nothing compared to this morning. While being caught by Logan was unpredictable as his reactions could range from Disappointed Mom™️ to Unhinged Scientist™️, it was nothing compared to how the resident Dad would react. The resident Dad was none other than Patton Crofters, the polar opposite to his husband Logan. He had met both of them in college. Dr. Logan Crofters had been his Archeological professor. He had often stressed his disdain for puns so when Virgil first met Patton, he nearly choked to death when the other introduced himself with a pun. That was when Virgil learned that his professor hated puns except for when his husband made them. 

The three had grown close, Patton having proclaimed he was his godfather now. It was an interesting friendship. When the two asked if he wanted to join them on their archeological dig that summer, he had jumped at the chance. He quickly learned that Home Dad Patton was different from Archeological Dig Dad Patton. 

Archeological Dig Dad Patton was stricter than at home. He popped up next to Virgil nearly every hour with sunscreen to coat him in and a bottle of water and a snack. He also made sure that Virgil was being very careful when handling anything that could result in him getting hurt if he wasn't careful. Of course Patton was always like that but when at the dig site, Patton was scarily so. And Patton didn't hold back with swear words. Virgil remembered the first time Logan had denied Patton with sunscreen saying that he was busy. Patton had huffed and responded with "Logan Crofters. Stand up right now and put on the fucking sunscreen!" He wasn't sure he had ever seen Logan move so fast. 

Virgil had seen what Patton does when upset with someone and it was harsh. He remembered Logan coming into class one day extremely sad because he had upset Patton and his husband had denied any kisses. Needless to say, Virgil was terrified to see what Patton would say after learning about last night. 

After waking up that morning, he had just laid in bed and stared at the ceiling silently contemplating whether or not hiding under the bed was a good idea as Roman continued to sleep in the bed beside him. And when Roman woke up around an hour later, he was still laying there. 

-------

Roman yawned and stretched his arms as he woke up. Sunlight streamed in through a gap in the curtain. He sat there for a few moments after waking up. The bed was absolutely unbelievable! He had never slept so good! It was so soft and supported his body in a way his old bed never could. If he had had any doubts about living in the future, they were long gone now. Then again, how could anyone have any doubts about the future if there was such a gorgeous man as Virgil to help him adjust to the new century. Speaking of Virgil….

Roman turned to look at the bed beside him to find Virgil already awake. "Virgil!" Roman exclaimed, voice bright as he smiled at the other. "Good morning!" 

Virgil did not move. Instead he continued to stare at the ceiling. "How can it be a good morning? Patton is going to kill me when he finds out about last night." 

Roman's smile twisted into a confused frown. "Patton? Who's Patton?" 

Virgil sighed. "Patton is Logan's husband and resident Dad. Once he finds out I went off on my own AND got hurt, he's probably going to look at me disappointedly and I can not deal with that right now." He pushed himself up only to hiss as pain shot up his ankle. 

Roman's eyebrows shot up into his styled bangs and he quickly hopped out of his bed, rushing to Virgil's side. 

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?" 

You could carry me to the kitchen, Virgil's mind unhelpfully supplied. He shook his head. No, that is not happening. Pull yourself together, Virgil. "No, I got it." He grimaced as he pushed himself up onto his hands to slide his legs over the side of the bed. Roman watched on anxiously, his hands hovering in the air between them as if awaiting the chance to help the emo. Virgil looked down at his ankle and sucked in a breath through his teeth. "That doesn't look good." 

Roman followed the others gaze down to his ankle and winced in sympathy. Virgil's ankle had swollen up again through the night turning it a nice shade of red as a purple bruise stretched across the skin covering the ankle bone. "Are you sure you don't need any help," Roman asked once again. "That looks pretty bad." 

"No, I'm sure it's not as bad as it looks." Virgil bit his lip and stood up to prove his point...only to yelp loudly as the pressure caused a strong jolt of pain to shoot up his leg. 

"Yeah, I think you should let me help you." Virgil opened his mouth to argue only to freeze. Roman frowned as he heard thumping. "What was that?" The sound quickly became increasingly louder. 

"Oh shi-" 

"Virgil!!!!! Are you okay?!?!?" The door burst open and a man stood there in dark brown pants with an abundance of pockets, a light blue, loose, cotton shirt and round glasses framing warm hazel eyes. The man's face was scrunched up in worry  as their eyes bounced around the room for any immediate signs of danger. Then they landed on Virgil and Roman. The two men remained frozen as the man panted from his run up two flights of stairs. He glanced between the two before his eyes narrowed in on Roman. "Virgil, who is this?" Asked Patton. 

🏜

Everything Taglist: @misery-killed-me @superwholocked-for-life @mirror2thespirit @aroundofapplesauce @lyditist @syanara @unicornofdarknessstuff @alias290 @odette-ssbu @ray-does-stuff

WUIARC Taglist: @underestimatemethatwillbefun @existentialeggdogg @espepspes @meowthefluffy @koalas-in-coffee

If you want to be added or removed from the tag lists let me know

[jeongyunhoed]

8 Stories, 8 Movies from the Golden Age (1930s to 1960s).

It’s the golden age and 8 men are the most sought-after actors in Hollywood. Ateez, but make them Old Hollywood, basically. Lights, camera, action!

Member: Yunho

Genre: Murder mystery, a little bit of comedy, a little bit of romance and fluff

Warnings: Murder (as it is a murder mystery), mentions of it including suicide, death, blackmail, alcohol drinking

Things to note: Set in the 1930s, established marriage

Will have OCs

As with the rest of the stories in the AU, there will be other idols mentioned, most likely NCT but may have some of my other faves (EXO, etc.)

A/N: This is the third and final part of Yunho’s story. Coincidentally, this is also the last of the murder mystery-genre in this au. We’re going screwball comedy next with Wooyoung’s!  

Masterlist

Former private detective-turned-society man Jeong Yunho is brought back to sleuthing when an inventor goes missing and his mistress is murdered. With a little help from his wife, and from a martini or two.

The Thin Man

tag list: @minervaaaaaaaa , @closer-stars

Part 3 (final)

The taxi pulled up in front of a dark and deserted laboratory that Yunho knew was Park Junho’s shop that he closed down. With Asta on a leash, he got down the car and paid the driver, the driver being a little too eager to leave as the place gave him the creeps. Yunho couldn’t blame him, it was late at night. “Come on,” Yunho whispered to the dog, who seemed hesitant to follow him as they approached the building, the two of them skidding to a halt when he saw that a familiar figure was waiting for them. 

“Hey darling,” Juhyun waved them over, her voice low. She looked excited yet concerned at the same time. 

“Juhyun! What are you doing here?” He pulled Asta along up to her. 

“I beat you down here, I decided to come with you after you left so I got dressed and went to where you said” She said with an air of confidence. 

Yunho gave his wife a look. “Now listen, Juju-” 

“No,” She cut him off, placing a finger to his lips. “You’re not going in this place alone and that’s that. Get that skeleton key out of your pocket and open the door.” 

“Alright, alright, as you wish, my darling,” Yunho opened the doors of the place and they stepped inside. 

“It’s a nice neighborhood Park Junho’s picked out for his shop. I can almost hear the chains rattling in the distance,” Juhyun said quietly as they crept inside, careful not to make any noise. “Do you believe in ghosts, Yuyu?” 

“I don’t, but shh,” Yunho whispered as they walked. 

“It’s so dark in here,” Juhyun mumbled, her arm tightly linked with her husband’s. 

“I’ll get a flashlight on, let me get my arm back, my darling,” Yunho pulled his arm back and closed the door behind them, taking the flashlight out of his coat pocket. The sudden light made Asta whimper. “Shh, Asta,” He whispered as they walked on, Juhyun being extra careful, noticing how her heels would catch onto some cracks in the floor here and there. 

“This place looks awfully big,” She whispered. “You can’t even see the corners.” 

“Don’t let the shadows frighten you, Juju,” He said, pointing to a silhouette that was of a machine. 

“Who’s frightened?” Juhyun asked, glancing at him only to bump into something hard. “What’s this?” 

“It looks like Park Junho’s work table,” Yunho shone the flashlight over the entire surface in front of them. 

“Looks like a slab in the morgue to me,” Juhyun muttered, seeing more details of the space they were in illuminated. By the light clicking her heels made, she realized that she was standing on cement. “Cement.” 

“Come on, dear,” Yunho beckoned her to come closer while he approached what he realized was the work desk. The two of them froze when they heard a creaking. “It’s just us in here, Juju, it must be a loose floorboard or something.” 

The two of them stopped again when they heard something scratching. “What’s that now?” Juhyun asked. 

“It’s Asta, he’s scratching at the cement, shh! Asta! Shh!” Yunho tried to yank on the leash but to no avail. “Stop it, Asta! Stop!” 

Juhyun observed the way the dog was frantically scratching at the cement. “Yunho, he’s after something! I’ve seen him scratch the ground like that when he was looking for-” 

“Asta! Shh! Look over here!” Yunho tapped his foot on another cemented part of the floor. He paused upon hearing the sound and tapped his foot on the floor again. “Wait a minute, this is hollow, I wonder if there’s something around here I could use to dig this up.” 

“I saw an iron bar over there, it might be a shovel,” Juhyun pointed to the other side of the room. 

“Good, good,” Yunho shone a light over the shovel and quickly picked it up. He handed Juhyun the flashlight. “If I can dig a hole in one corner of this part of the floor, we can find out what’s buried under here.” 

“Yunho, I’m getting scared,” Juhyun said as she watched him. “Asta! Come here!” She called out to the dog, who was now watching them. 

Yunho broke through the cement and started digging through the corner he broke into, coming into a layer of dirt. “Asta! Shh! Get back!” He tried to push the dog away, who was also trying to dig into the dirt. 

“What is he after?” Juhyun asked, keeping the light on them. 

Yunho carried the dog off the ground, realizing why Asta was so determined to dig into the cement. There was a skeleton and some clothes buried. “There’s a body. It must have been here for weeks. We have to get Lt. Song over here right away.” 

~ 

The lieutenant and his group of police officers arrived shortly after they discovered the body, some taking photos of the skeleton including the clothes that it was buried with. The building was also surrounded by reporters looking to get information on what they found. 

“These reporters are enough to drive a guy insane,” Mingi huffed as they examined the clothes and the skeleton on the workdesk. “Well, you were right, Yunho. It was a body, a skeleton rather, buried in limestone. I wonder what Park Junho had against this one.” 

“What about the clothes?” 

“Well there’s that too, the clothes aren’t touched but there’s hardly any identification on them. Just a silver belt buckle with the initials CS on them.” 

Yunho looked up in thought. “CS? Who was that?” 

One of the police officers stopped to hand him a cane. “Here’s something else that was found in there. There’s a rubber tip, the guy must have been walking lame or something,” Mingi said. He turned back to the belt buckle. “Wait a minute, that case you worked on, with the guy that threatened to kill Park Junho, what was his name?” 

“Choi San,” Yunho replied. 

“Could this be him? Didn’t Choi San say Park Junho tried to steal one of his inventions?” 

“I never saw him. I don’t think anyone saw him,” Yunho shrugged. “But at the time we figured it was just blackmail.” 

“It’s just the same, Park Junho wouldn’t mind having him out of the way, would he? And according to the medical examiner, the body’s been here at least a couple of months.” 

“That’s just around the time Park Junho closed the shop,” Yunho pointed out. 

“Right!” Mingi said. “The way I figure it is, he kills this guy and plants him here. Woo Jaekyung knew about it so he killed her. Kang Yeosang caught him at that so he had to bump him off too. Well, I think we’ll get going now. You wouldn’t like to pay me that hundred thousand won now, would you?” He grinned. 

“Just wait until you catch Park Junho. Did you put the skeleton through the fluoroscope yet?” 

“Yeah, half an hour ago, we did. We found the bullet he was killed with and there was something in the leg bone too, an old piece of shrapnel-” 

Yunho stared at him. “Shrapnel.” 

“Yeah, why?” 

“He must have limped, which explains why he used a walking stick,” Yunho said. 

Mingi looked confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing. So long, Lieutenant, I’m going to pick up my wife and take her home. It’s been a long night,” Yunho waved at the officer. 

“Good night! Give my regards to the wife!” 

~ 

Their discovery at Park Junho���s shop made headlines in all the newspapers the next morning, and soon enough their suite was filled with reporters and photographers, holding cameras and asking them to stop and pose for photos. “Have the police any idea where Park Junho is?” One reporter asked. 

“No,” Yunho replied. 

“Do you think they’ll find him?” Another reporter spoke. 

“Oh I know they will.” 

“Anything else to say about the case?” Said a third reporter. 

“Yes, it’s put me behind my drinking,” Yunho padded towards the mini-bar to pour himself a glass of gin. 

“What about this Choi San?” Said the first reporter. 

“Sorry, I don’t know anything else,” Yunho took a long drink. 

“What’s your next step, Yunho?” They asked this time. 

“Right back home where we will rest from this vacation that we’ve had,” Yunho took another drink. The reporters bid the two of them goodbye, closing the door behind them. Juhyun put Asta down, the dog running towards one of the rooms. 

“Back home, hmm?” Juhyun raised a brow at him, sitting down on the couch. 

Yunho put his glass down and playfully sat on her lap. “If you insist-” 

“I don’t insist-” Juhyun groaned, pushing him off, making him sit down on the floor in front of her. 

“My soul, woman, I give you three murders and you still aren’t satisfied” Yunho rested his chin on her knee. 

“I want you to stay and find Park Junho!” She ruffled his hair. 

“I did find him.” 

She stared at him. “What do you mean by that, Yuyu?” 

“He was down in his shop!” 

“Yunho.” 

“It was his body that was buried down there.” 

“Yunho, you better lay off the liquor-” 

“That’s a fact,” He pointed out. 

“Park Junho’s body?” She asked. “But they all said it was Choi San’s-” 

“That’s what they think. Mingi and...all of them. They take it for granted that it’s just another one of Park Junho’s victims. Mingi’s hot footing it around now, looking for Park Junho. That’s all that troubles him,” Yunho mumbled. 

“What makes you so sure it was Park Junho’s body?” She raised a brow. 

“Several things.” 

Juhyun rolled her eyes. “Yunho, you’re driving me crazy with all the suspense. What things? What things made you so sure?” 

“Well, the clothes for one. They were carefully preserved and the body was just as carefully destroyed. The person who killed him counted on one thing...the skeletons all look alike.” 

“Well don’t they?” 

“Sure, but then I remembered that Park Junho had some shrapnel in his shin, it bothered him. They found it under the fluoroscope,” Yunho recalled. 

“How long has he been dead?” 

“A couple of months?” 

“If that’s the case, then he couldn’t have committed those murders,” Juhyun deduced. 

Yunho smiled. “Smart gal.” 

“Park Junho dead. Does Sungyoung know?” 

“No. Nobody but you knows. I didn’t even tell Mingi.” 

“Why not? Why won’t you tell Sungyoung what you know?” 

“Because I want to lie low until I get the whole dope,” Yunho knelt down, arms on both sides of her legs. “I don’t want to go off half-cocked.” 

“Then what are you planning to do?” 

“I’m going to get the real murderer, and I’ve got an idea. Do you want to see me take him?” Yunho leaned closer. 

“Yes!” 

“Do you have a nice evening gown?” Yunho asked. 

“Yunho, what’s that got to do with-” 

“I said do you have a nice evening gown?” He repeated. 

“Yes, I’ve got a Lulu! Why?” 

“I’m going to throw a party and invite all of the suspects.” 

“The suspects? They won’t come.” 

“Oh they will. I’ll get Lt. Song to issue the invitations.” 

“Who do you think did it?” 

“Yang Hyomin…” 

“Hyomin!” 

“Yang Hyomin, Jung Wooyoung, Choi Jongho,...” Yunho picked up the phone. “What were you doing on the ninth of June?” He grinned. 

~ 

They reserved a private dining room later that night. A string quartet was playing in one corner of the room that was almost as big as a small ballroom. Some of Mingi’s police officers were disguised as waiters serving cocktails, with the lieutenant himself dressed for the occasion along with them. Yunho and Juhyun were placing name cards on the table. “Let’s see, you at the head,” She placed his name card on the setting. 

“And you on my right,” Yunho placed her name card down. “Hongjoong on my left, Seonghwa, Sungyoung’s brother Sungmin, next to Jongho. Mingi will sit on the other end of the table and on the other side, is Jung Wooyoung.” 

“Hyomin’s next to Wooyoung-” 

“No, let’s leave that seat vacant. I have a feeling he won’t come alone,” Yunho said. “Put Hyomin next to Hongjoong instead.” 

Juhyun followed suit and once she was done, she approached the lieutenant. “They’re going to come here, aren’t they?” 

“Yeah, some of them are already here, I got my guys to bring them up.” 

“I wish I have you at all my parties,” Juhyun chuckled. 

The doors opened and in came Seonghwa, just as dressed yet looking worried. “Is Sungyoung here yet?” He asked. 

“You can put your hat and coat in the room and we can talk about it,” Yunho assured him and he walked off. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” They heard Hyomin say as she was escorted inside, with her son. “Yunho! What’s this about? I said we were busy and we were going to the theater!” 

“We just wanted to make sure you’d attend, Mrs. Jung,” Juhyun said. “Ah, Mr. Jung, you’re here,” She gestured to Wooyoung, who was with another woman. 

“Wooyoung, I swear I had no idea what this was-” Hyomin grabbed his arm. 

“Hey, take your hands off him,” said the woman with a stern expression. “...Do you hear me?” 

Hyomin stared at her, and then at Wooyoung. “I-Wooyoung-What does this mean- Wooyoung-Wooyoung!” She looked taken aback as they were brought to the table to be seated at their places. “Yunho, why are we being brought here like common criminals?” She skidded to a halt when she saw the woman sit next to Wooyoung at the table. “But I’m Mrs. Jung.” 

“Put it over there, sister. I was Mrs. Jung before you were,” The woman replied dryly. 

“Your name card is there, on my right,” Yunho gestured for the seat next to the woman. Hyomin huffed as she sat down, glaring at the woman from time to time. 

“You give such charming parties, Mr. Jeong,” Juhyun eyed him as all of them sat down. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Jeong,” Yunho smiled. “Now we’re all ready to begin-” 

“Good, you can tell us why we’re here in the first place,” Hyomin spoke. 

“I’ve invited you all here because I’ve got some very important news,” Yunho looked at all of them. “I’ve seen Park Junho.” 

All of them gaped at him. “Wait a minute, you saw Park Junho?!” Mingi asked, almost indignantly. 

“That’s nothing, I saw him myself” Hyomin scoffed, looking down at the appetizers that were being served to them. 

Yunho and Juhyun exchanged looks. “You did? Where did you see him?” He asked. 

“Last night, he came to see me at my apartment.” 

“Oh did he? What did he say?” 

“Oh nothing much, he wanted to know how I was and how the children were.” 

Yunho shook his head. “I’m afraid you’re lying, Hyomin. You see, I really did see Park Junho last night.” 

“Are you kidding?!” Mingi remained bewildered. 

“No.” 

“Then what’s the idea of holding out on me?” the lieutenant asked. 

“Because I found out for certain that he didn’t commit the murders,” Yunho said. 

Sungyoung stared at him. “Yunho- He didn’t do it?” 

“What do you mean?” Hongjoong looked confused. 

“Jongho,” Yunho said, making him jump in surprise. “Oh, I’m so sorry. You knew Woo Jaekyung, right? Was she...swindling Park Junho?” He asked. 

“She didn’t say she is but I figured she is,” Jongho sounded relieved. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Once I wanted five million won, she gave it to me in cash.” 

“Thank you, now I’ll tell you why I know Park Junho didn’t commit those murders,” Yunho gestured for the servers to go ahead with the main course. “Three months ago, Park Junho found out that Woo Jaekyung was cheating him and was splitting with some man. That man was... Sungmin,” He stopped, noticing that he nearly spilled his water over. “Oh, I’m so sorry, don’t you want some wine?” 

“No, no, Mr. Jeong, no thank you,” Sungmin shook his head. 

Juhyun rolled her eyes at her husband. “You’re driving me crazy!” 

“Anyway, Park Junho went to find the man and he did. That man was desperate. He knew he was caught dead to rights, and with prison staring him at the face he took the only way out -- He killed Park Junho,” Yunho recalled. 

“Yunho, you mean- My father-” Sungyoung stared at him in shock. 

“Yes, I’m sorry to have to tell you this, Sungyoung, but your father is dead, he’s been dead for three months.” 

Sungyoung broke down in tears in her seat. Seonghwa leaned over, wrapping an arm around her. “Darling, don’t cry. Please, I know it’s terrible, but isn’t it really better this way?” He whispered. 

Juhyun approached them. “You’d better take her home, Seonghwa. Back to your home,” She said to him, and he nodded, arm still around his fiance as he brought her out, Mingi quietly signaling the officers at the door to open it. 

“But this is absurd! How can Junho be dead! You said yourself you saw him last night!” Hyomin turned back to Yunho. 

��So I did. I saw him lying buried in his shop,” Yunho replied nonchalantly. 

“You mean that body-” Mingi caught on. 

“Was Park Junho, yeah.” 

“Perfectly absurd,” Hyomin shook her head. 

“And the murderer is right here in this room, sitting here at this table,” Yunho looked at all of their expressions. 

“You’re not going to keep us all in the dark aren’t you? Who is it?” Sungmin asked. 

“You’re not going to pin this one on me!” Jongho slammed his spoon on the table. One of the officers approached him. “What am I the fall guy?!” He was pushed back down on his seat. 

“This is the best dinner I’ve ever listened to,” Juhyun side-eyed Yunho. 

“Well, I have no idea who it is, but I thought if we had a little get-together we might be able to find out. I’ll tell you as much as I know. This murderer is a very clever man. He studied this thing out very carefully. You’d understand that, wouldn’t you, Sungmin?-” Yunho turned to him. 

“Yes...no!” He shook his head profusely, everyone else beginning to look at him suspiciously. 

“He planned this thing out beautifully. After he killed Park Junho, he wired Hongjoong, using Park Junho’s name and told him to close up the shop. He destroyed all of Park Junho’s clothes except his watch chain because he figured that someday that might come in handy. Then he took Park Junho’s body and buried him in the shop with another man’s clothes to throw us off the track. He even put a belt buckle with a “CS” on it, hoping that we’d think it was Choi San, an old enemy of Park Junho’s who dropped out of sight years ago,” Yunho explained. “Jongho, would you mind holding your chopsticks the other way, you’re worrying Sungmin.” 

Jongho looked down at his hand and put his chopsticks down. Sungmin stared at him and at the utensils in his place. “If those chopsticks are missing, I’ll look for it somewhere on you” Juhyun nudged her husband. 

“After our hero killed Park Junho, he had an idea. He realized that he and Woo Jaekyung could still collect money. Park Junho was supposed to be on a trip, no one knew where -- so our hero wrote letters to Hongjoong, signing Junho’s name, so that Hongjoong would continue to send the money to Jaekyung. He even telephoned Hongjoong, do you remember?” Yunho turned to him this time. 

“But it must have been Junho. I should have known if it wasn’t his voice,” Hongjoong replied. 

“Oh he was clever about that too. He called when you were out,” Yunho explained. “That same afternoon, Jaekyung called him. She said that you were coming, Hyomin, to ask about Junho. So he got terrified. He was afraid that Jaekyung would break down and tell, so he went to Jaekyung...and killed her. He left Junho’s watch chain in her hand too.” 

Juhyun stared at him. “Is that true?” She whispered. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Then why are you saying it?” 

“It’s the only way it makes sense,” Yunho muttered to her. “His plan was still working beautifully. Junho was established as being in town, the watch chain was handed over, but with slight delay, to the police. The only snag was a man named Kang Yeosang, who found out something. He was there at Jaekyung’s apartment. He heard the shots, he saw the murderer leave. He knew who did it,” He said to everyone. 

“Our hero paid Yeosang once to keep his mouth shut, but when Yeosang threatened him again, he bumped him off. But our hero had just one weak link in his chain. The telegrams, the letters, the calls were all very well, but no one had actually seen Park Junho, so our hero picked on poor Hyomin here to strengthen his case. Hyomin is the only one at this table who can tell us who the real murderer is,” Yunho turned to Hyomin. “Hyomin, who was it that told you to say you saw Junho?” 

“Nobody told me, I did see him!” Hyomin replied, evidently getting flustered. 

“What did he pay you, Hyomin, to stick to that story?” 

“It isn’t a story, it’s true. I did see Junho, he isn’t dead!” Hyomin was picking at her food. 

Yunho watched her reaction as he pressed on. “You’re lying, Hyomin, of course you’d do anything for money. You’re getting a good price for saying that you saw Junho and you figure you won’t get anything if he’s dead.” 

“I’m not going to stay here to be insulted!” Hyomin was about to leave, only to be pushed back down to her seat by a nearby server. 

“Hongjoong, you drew up Junho’s will. Hyomin was cut off, wasn’t she, if she remarried?” Yunho turned to him this time. 

“I have no right to answer that.” 

Yunho rounded on her again, Hyomin looking more and more horrified. “You shouldn’t let that keep you from telling the truth, Hyomin. Mrs. Jung,” He turned to the woman next to her. “Were you ever divorced from Jung Wooyoung?” 

“No,” the woman replied. 

“So you see? Under the law, you haven’t remarried, Hyomin. You’re still one of the heirs!” Yunho stared at her. “So what are you holding out for? A few crummy thousand won that the man gave you when you can get the whole estate? Remember the other two that were with him on this, Jaekyung and Yeosang. When he thought they might spill something, he bumped them off. You ought to know damn well he’s not going to take any chances on you. What do you want to do? Be next on his list?” 

Hyomin glared at Hongjoong. “Why you dirty-” 

Yunho was quick to punch Hongjoong in time, a shot firing to the floor as he was knocked unconscious. Mingi got out of his seat as everyone was gaping at what just happened. “There you go, Lieutenant. Kim Hongjoong is the murderer.” 

“Yuyu!” Juhyun wrapped her arms around him in an embrace. “I was scared you would’ve gotten shot! But you took him! I knew you would-” 

“Yeah, another case like this, and I’d have thought I was in a prize fight,” Yunho wrapped his arms around her. 

“Aww, Yunho, you’re swell, darling,” Juhyun beamed. 

“I bet you say that to all the boys,” Yunho smiled as he kissed her.

[myfeetkeepdancing]

What if I requested a Tom fic where they’re at SDCC doing a panel and he introduces everybody to his lovely boyfriend in the middle of it 🥰 (also hi I love your stuff and you’re a delight skdhhsj) - jaws

"Babe, you're glowing." Tom looks at you with a caring expression. "C'mere." Encircling his strong arms around your shuddering figure, pulling you into his comforting embrace. Tom was the only one able to give such incredible hugs. So passionate and caring. It felt safe and so incredibly comforting. Something you could use right now. That feeling of the world collapsing under your feet right here was daunting. Your knees trembling, hands clammy, and throat dry.

 "Two minutes to go." The woman interrupted. She was just doing her job. Deep down, you knew that. But if a look could kill...

 You felt your heart racing like crazy. So many things were going through your mind. "Look at me, babe." Tom's calm, soothing voice brings you back to reality. Holding you by your shoulders. "This is going to be the best day of our lives. Trust me."

 "A-Aren't you nervous?" The words fall stuttering from your lips.

 "No, not all." His hands move down your figure, pulling you in by your hips. Your gaze captivated by his cheeky smile. "I… have been looking forward to his moment since forever." His loving eyes drawing you in. "Because I want the world to see-" Bringing your lips close to his. "-how much I love you." Kissing you soft and tender. "I don't wanna hide our love behind walls and curtains made of out of lies." He smiles. "No, I wanna be able to love you like anybody else can. Show it with pride."

 "T-Tom…" You're only able to mutter, feeling the tears well in your eyes. The pads of his fingers softly caress your cheeks.

 "Please don't cry." He mutters, trying to suppress his quivering lips. "You know I cry easily."

His eyes turning red as well. "I love you so much."

 Sharing a deep and passionate kiss. Before you hear his name being shouted over and over again. His lips part from yours, as you look into his loving eyes. "I love you, Tom."

He quickly rubs his eyes clean as the makeup artist corrects the last bits here and there.

 "I love you." Hugging you again.

 "It's gonna be fine, mate." Harrison's voice was barely hearable over the crowd, cheering. "You're meant for each other." He pats your shoulder. Hiding backstage behind the curtains, you peak at Tom walking onto the stage, waving and smiling. You feel the sweat gushing like a waterfall from your armpits.

 Although Tom and you had discussed it time and time again. Coming to the conclusion that this was the moment to announce your relationship to the world. On the one hand, an extremely proud moment. From day one, you wanted to shout it from the rooftops. Carve it into every tree, write it on every scrap of paper. Tom Holland was your boyfriend. But on the other, also a horrifying moment. Not everyone is as accepting as you'd hope. In all the years, coming out isn't as normal as we'd hoped. It's still being frowned upon. And the worst of all, being treated differently.

 But Tom didn't mind. Tom was always treated differently since being famous. Not in the wrong way. But he had warned upfront; nothing can prepare you for fame. It changes so much. Yet, Tom didn't. You admired him for that. You'd hope that you'd stay the same too. But Tom reassured you. He believed in you. He trusted you. He wanted the world to know. He wanted the world to see. And the moment was right around the corner. As the adrenaline pumped with vast quantities through your veins. Minutes go by — grueling minutes. As if you could hear every second tick on the clock.

 You don't pay attention to the questions. Nor the stories that were shared. Only the sound of your heart pounding between your ears. Gaze fixed on Tom. He seemed so relaxed. Until a moment of silence in the panel appeared. It happened naturally. And Tom took that moment with both hands. "Alright, everyone!" Jumping up from his seat. "I have an announcement to make." Gesturing the others to silence with a hand gesture. But the crowd began cheering and clapping, taking a while to calm down.

 "First of all, I want to thank everyone close to me that knew of this secret. And has kept it that way for a long time. Because, it has been difficult." Tom pauses for a moment, biting his lower lip as he peeks back at you. The crowd grows unusually rowdy.

 "This is about a person. A very special person. Which I have been together for almost two years now." And the crowd wasn't going to calm down any moment. Letting the moment sink in. "Sixteen days short, to be precise." He grins. "I can say that, we faced difficult times. It wasn't easy for both of us. I'm not easy. Believe me. I'm away quite a lot. Spend countless hours on set, traveled to many countries. But this person has always been there for me. Every step of the way. Day and night. Picked me up whenever I felt down. Helped me shape into the person that I am to this day. I owe this person everything." You see his smile stretching even further and further.

 "I do... And I truly hope, that each and every one of you, here and at home. That you will find someone that loves you as this person loves me." Followed by a ooh's and aw's from the crowd. "Because I want the world to meet (Y/N)."

 That was the signal. Your legs started moving without thinking about it. All eyes turn your way. But you only see Tom. Blinding flashes of cameras. The noise of the crowd was unheard of. And the crowd goes absolutely wild as you walk further onto the stage.

 "He-…!" He yells into the microphone, trying to speak over the loud crowd. Opening his arms up to you. "-is the love of my life. My everything. My true one. My boyfriend!"

 The response is overwhelming. You fall into Tom's arms. Struggling not to let your tears of joy run freely. You wave and smile. Before the crowd demands a kiss. And before you can react. Tom turns to you, holds you by both cheeks, and plants his soft lips onto you. Thinking the crowd couldn't get any louder, was absurd. It's deafening. The cheers and smiles of people. You can barely see the people in the front row. But the only faces you see are in tears of joy. You don't understand why. But they keep blowing kisses your way. It's all new and overwhelming. Together with Tom, you pose a few times. Before getting the microphone handed to you by Tom. "You wanna say something?"

 You nod and smile. Tom stays close to you. Like always. His arms reach around you. A lot of cheering and aahs followed. You scrape your throat, feeling the nerves race again. "I-… I wanna thank everyone for this heartwarming welcome. It's all a little overwhelming, but I'm relieved to be received like this. It means a lot to me. And ehm-..."

 "We love you!" Someone from the crowd interrupts your moment of stuttering. And you can't help but smile at this sudden reaction as the crowd cheers you on. Tom kissing you on the cheek.

 "Told you." He whispers in your ear, turning you back to the chairs.

 "Finally!" You hear the cast members shout in harmony as you turn around. "Finally, we're able to share the stories about the two of you." Anthony gasps in relief.

 Then you notice every seat had been taken. You gaze for a moment, where to sit. Did they forget? You feel the eyes of thousands of people burn into your back. Connecting with Tom's eyes, you notice that playful spark and smirk on his face.

 "No, no." He says, extending his arm around your waist, before pulling you in. "You're sitting on my lap, darling." Followed by a burst of laughter all around. "I wanna make sure no one runs off with you."

 "Never let go, Holland. Because you'll never find one like this again." RDJ smiles. "I tell you guys, you wouldn't believe half the things I've seen with those. Best couple!"

 "It's true." Chris piles on. "Tom is a good guy, in every way. But he-..." Pointing towards you. "Is the sweetest, kindest, and loveable person I've met."

 "Oh, you should have seen these two on set." Sebastian jokes. "(Y/N) even got us pizzas when we're shooting late."

 "And provided Tom with juice boxes, of course." Anthony grins.

 "Dont forget the coffees he brought, Anthony."

 "Oh! That's another thing! He remembers each and every ones preferred coffee. It's damn impressive."

 "The way we found out. It's so funny. (Y/N) came backstage. It's during a break, everyone having a coffee and such. Except for Tom, he gets handed a fresh brew of tea. And to thank (Y/N), he just turns in, and takes him right on the lips. At the time, we thought (Y/N) was part of the crew. We just didn't know!

 "I still remember that look on (Y/N)'s face. His eyes shot wide open, looking at everyone, face coloring red, and Tom not aware of anything. And we just sat there in silence, dumbstruck."

 "And then Tom's reaction, when Robert started clapping at the end."

 "Oh yeah, Tom completely freaking out, begging us to keep it a secret."

 "Come on, guys…" Tom protests, scratching the back of his neck.  "I eh…" He giggles and murmurs.

 "Finally, we're able to share those pictures." Chris pulls out his phone. "Check this one out." Holding his screen to the camera. All attention goes the big screen behind you, as the picture gets in focus. A huge picture of you and Tom fills the screen. You and Tom cuddled up together, somewhere backstage. Followed by one of Tom looking at you with big heart eyes, while you do something. Most of the pictures you can't even remember where or when they were taken. And so followed a slideshow of pictures centered on you and Tom. The first ones were awkward to watch, but a sense of joy and sympathy hang about. Sitting on Tom's lap. Your arm around his neck. Sharing stories and telling jokes. You barely noticed the crowd was there. You knew each one of the actors on stage. And had something in common or shared a story with. It felt like a family.

 "Conclusion, rainbows and unicorns are born when these two make love. Adorable!" Robert teases.

"And yes, Holland, I've seen those fogged windows of your trailer."

 You and Tom's face shoot bright red. "This is so embarrassing." Tom giggles, burying his face in your lap.

 "And it wasn't particularly cold outside." He jokes. "No, seriously. In all weirdness and awkwardness. They're the best. They deserve the world. And much more! I love 'em!"

 "Just to be clear, if anyone got a problem with these two…" Robert exclaims. "You better tell me right know, cause-..."

 "...-Tell us you mean." Benedict adds before letting Robert continue speaking. And all the rest of the crew nod in agreement.

 Tom scraping his voice. "Ehm…" His cheeks still bright red, biting his lower lip as he looks at you. Thinking about what he wants to say, suppressing half a smile. "Small announcement. After this, I'll be taking a break."

 "Not from filming." You chime in.

 "Not at all. But I'll be taking a longer break than usual. I've always wanted to travel the world. There is so much to explore. So much to see. So much to experience. It's fun to do with friends. But now, I'm finally able to this will the love of my life. Together with this beauty here." Kissing you on the cheek. "I can't wait." He smiles. "Thanks everyone! Thank you for everything! It means the world to me. I… mean us."

 And so began a trip during months. Stretching far and wide across the globe. Going on road trips and attending parties. Drinking and dining in the best restaurants. Discovering beautiful little hole in the walls. Breakfast in bed. Enjoying a relaxing moment on a quiet beach. A long walk through the mountains. Traveling by boat. A night out in a bristling city, or a drink in a local pub in a quiet little town. Diving at coral reefs. Sleeping in a tent. Or a remote log cabin in the dense forests of Mother Nature.

 Together you've seen it all.

 Experienced it together.

 Together.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Acting Your Age (Part 1)

Summary: At a family gathering, the reader finally meets her brother Jared’s long time co-star Jensen...

Pairing: Jensen x reader 

Masterlist

Square: Jared Padalecki

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, slight flangst, age gap

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo

“Hey,” said Jared, pulling you out of the kitchen and into the backyard. “I got somebody I want you to meet.”

He dragged you after him across the patio and over to the pool, plopping you in front of your other brother and Jensen, Jared’s former co-star of the past fifteen years.

“Ackles, I know this may blow your mind but this is little Y/N,” said Jared, Jensen’s face turning into a big smirk.

“Oh, I’ve seen the pictures. Last time I saw one you looked like you were twelve,” said Jensen with a laugh.

“Mhm,” you hummed, trying to back out of there when Jared caught your arm. You frowned up at him and he pushed you back at Jensen, your brothers wandering off over towards the grill. “You’re taller than I thought you’d be.”

“I get that a lot,” he chuckled. “Sorry. I was just teasing. I’ve known Jared’s had a baby sister for fifteen years but never actually met you.”

“I’m not big on the whole...limelight thing,” you said. “He keeps me out of it thankfully.”

“I get that. Jare says you’ve been living in England the past few years since you finished college,” said Jensen. “What was that like?”

“Interesting. I was ready to come home. Although it is a joy to be living with your brother as an adult again,” you said. “Jared offered to let me stay in one of the guest rooms.”

“So you’ll be around more often it sounds like then,” he said, giving you a smile.

“Mhm. Jared’s home more now, a lot more. He’s ten years older. I’d like to get to know my brother and family a bit better,” you said. Jensen nodded, tilting his head. “What?”

“You remind me of him,” he said. “In a certain way.”

“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out I wasn’t planned,” you said with a smile.

“Still. It doesn’t mean your family doesn’t want you around,” he said. “They always talk about how they miss you at these parties and stuff.”

“I was always the annoying teenager while everyone else had adult stuff to talk about,” you said.

“I see. You better stick with me then, little Pads,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “Hi. Jensen. Single and probably going to die alone.”

“No you’re not. You’re hot,” you said.

“Speak for yourself,” he said. “The oddballs should stick together is all I’m saying.”

“You’re like my brothers best friend,” you said.

“Exactly. I know everything you could want to know about him,” said Jensen. “Ask all of your burning questions.”

“He’s always so grr around me. I figured it was him being too protective. He was such an ass as a babysitter,” you said an hour later, sitting with your feet in the pool.

“He does get that way but it means he cares about ya,” said Jensen, wiggling his toes in the pool water.

“I would hope he does,” you laughed, kicking your feet some, Jensen bumping your foot with his own. “You’re alright for someone over the hill.”

“You called me hot earlier, kiddo,” teased Jensen. “Jared said you have a track record of dating beyond your years.”

“British guys. British guys are way different,” you said. “And it was always over like that anyways.”

“Sounds like somebody screwed up,” said Jensen, taking a sip of his beer.

“He was great when it was only the two of us. He always acted embarrassed of me though when we went out with other people. Kinda made me feel like I was stupid for not knowing shit about a country I didn’t even grow up in too,” you said.

“Word of advice,” said Jensen with a smile. “Don’t date people that make you feel bad about yourself. Or do shit like that. A partner’s supposed to be someone you can be your weirdest with and they still love you. It’s not a guy like that.”

“I know,” you said, kicking your feet slowly. “I’m gonna be a dog lady. I know it. Just like one but that’s gonna be me.”

“I got a dog,” said Jensen. “They can play together at least.”

“Why you trying to cheer me up, Jensen? My brother put you up to babysitting me?” you asked.

“I have a sneaking suspicion Jared is trying to set us up,” he said. You stared at him and laughed, Jensen forcing a smile on his face.

“You’re serious,” you said, turning back toward the patio where Jared was sitting. “What...why?”

“I don’t know. He probably wants us to be friends now that you’re in town, since we’ll probably be seeing each other a lot,” he said.

“Right,” you said, pulling your feet out of the pool. “I’ll be back.”

You walked around the pool and up to the patio, poking Jared in the shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, turning back when you poked him again. “What?”

“Can I talk to you alone?” you asked. He stood up and you found a quiet corner just around the side of his house. “You shouldn’t force Jensen to try and be my friend.”

“Huh?”

“The dude doesn’t have to hang out with me cause I don’t know a lot of people here. Is that why you invited him tonight?” you asked.

“I invited him because he’s my friend and I thought you guys might get along...where is this coming from?” he asked.

“Jensen thinks you’re trying to set us up,” you said, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, I am,” he said, your eyes wide. “What? You always liked older guys and I’m sure you find him attractive.”

“He is fifteen freaking years older than me, Jared,” you said. “And a well known actor and why on earth do you think we would fit?”

“Why are you always so hung up on what other people think?”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you shot back. You saw Jensen walk up the path on the side of the house, giving you both a wave.

“I’m uh, gonna head home,” he said, handing your beer to you as he went past. “Night.”

“Jay-”

“I’ll text you tomorrow. We’ll take the boat out or something,” he said.

He left quickly and Jared sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Why do you have to be like this?” asked Jared.

“I’m going back to mom and dad’s,” you said, shoving your beer in his hand and storming out to the driveway, Jensen halfway into his truck. 

“You alright?” he asked.

“Perfect,” you grumbled.

“You want to grab a drink?” he asked. 

“You don’t have to hang out with me, Jensen,” you said. He frowned and leaned over the hood of his truck.

“Come on. My place is right around the corner,” he said. You mumbled but walked over and got in his passenger side, staring at him as he drove for two minutes, quickly pulling into a driveway of a house you were positive was as nice as your brother’s. “You look like you could use a stiff drink.”

“Is this what you do?” you said as you climbed out and stared following him through the front door.

“Well I figured you look like you want to get wasted and this is a much safer place to do it than some bar,” he said. You shut your mouth as you followed him inside, following his lead to kick off your flip flops by the door. He wandered over to a small bar and grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey from the looks of it, waving you out to a back porch area. You took a seat and he poured you a double, making his own drink before he settled in beside you.

You took a long drink, his gaze on you as you swallowed it down. You shook your head a few times and he broke out into a laugh.

“That’s some strong stuff. I’m impressed,” he said.

“Why do I always get like that? You know, why does he always get like that?” you said, Jensen raising an eyebrow. “He started it.”

“You know how I said you reminded me of Jared. I meant that whole...Jared not thinking he’s good enough sometimes thing,” said Jensen.

“I got no problems with that,” you said.

“Oh, well, that’s good,” said Jensen.

“I’m not a child,” you said.

“I didn’t say you were. I called ya kiddo cause it’s a nickname, that’s all,” he said. You pursed your lips and sunk lower into your seat, exhaling deeply. “You don’t gotta talk about anything if you don’t want to. We can just sit here.”

So you did, for close to the next hour not a word was spoken as you got a refill and Jensen found one of his sweatshirts inside for you to wear when it started to get cool outside.

“Hey Jared,” said Jensen when his phone rang, your eyes narrowing as you rested your chin on your knees. “Yeah I’m with Y/N at my place. I’ll drop her off if she wants me to later. It’s looking like she’s probably crashing in the guest room though...mhm, later.”

“I don’t have to stay here, Jensen,” you said.

“Well neither one of us should be driving,” he said.

“I shouldn’t have drunk that much,” you said, rubbing your head.

“You know what your problem is?” he said.

“Oh, this’ll be good,” you said.

“You try to be older than you are. You always thought you had to be more mature to fit in I bet and being mature means responsible. I bet you have zero fun in your life,” he said.

“You’re kind of a dick,” you said. 

“But am I wrong?” he said.

You didn’t say anything, only nuzzled your cheek against the fleece sweatshirt. 

“I think you might enjoy life a bit more if you stopped trying so hard to fit in and just did what you wanted instead,” he said.

“Well it’s kind of hard when pretty much everyone in your life is at least ten years older than you. My family, the people I work with...I’m always the kid,” you said.

“Is that why you date older guys?” he asked.

“No,” you said, crossing your arms, giving him a sideways glance. “Older guys tend to be more mature is all. There’s no games. There’s no need to say we’re exclusive cause that’s fucking stupid that you even need to say that nowadays.”

“Plus we’re probably better in bed,” he said with a chuckle.

“And there’s that,” you said with a soft smile.

“Kiddo,” said Jensen.

“Jens,” you said, giving him a side eye.

“Let me walk you home,” he said.

“Throwing me out?” you asked.

“No but you should go talk to your brother,” he said. “Come on. We’ll talk tomorrow, I promise.”

“Sorry I was kind of a bitch,” you said, looking up through your eyelashes at Jared when you got home.

“Sorry I was a dick,” he said back. “I shouldn’t have-”

“You’re right. I care too much about what other people think of me, including my own family. I think I need to be a certain way and that’s not good for me. I need to just be me,” you said. 

“You figured that out a lot quicker than I did,” he said.

“Jensen’s had a lot of practice with you,” you said.

“True,” he said with a smile. “It’d be nice to know what the real you is like. Not the one always listening to NPR or reading up on the stock market.”

“I freaking hate NPR,” you laughed. “I’m never listening to that again.”

“Good. We’ll take the boat out tomorrow and have some fun.”

“That’s your gas,” said Jensen sat behind you the next day on his jet ski. “Brake. Kill switch if you got to turn off the engine. That’s your reverse. She’s full of gas so just hit the-”

You squeezed the trigger and jolted forward, Jensen immediately wrapping his arms around you. You stopped and giggled, Jensen adjusting himself as he wrapped a loose arm around your waist.

“Very funny,” he teased. You hit the gas more slowly before you got up to a faster speed, Jensen patting your arm when he wanted you to let off or slow it down but you got the hang of it quickly. 

You were out there for hours and he never once asked for a turn, instead he just hung on and enjoyed the ride. Eventually you did head back though, running into Jared on the boat and saying you’d meet up for dinner at six. You managed to slip the jet ski back into the dock with a little guidance from Jensen, letting him pull you up onto the dock.

“Somebody had fun today,” he said with a smile as you undid your lifejacket and he tossed it in the bin along with his own. 

“I wish I had one,” you said.

“Anytime you want to use it, come on over,” he said. “You’re really good on that thing.”

“Hey, Jensen,” you asked as you started to follow him up the steps to his yard. “Feel free not to answer this but why are you single?”

“Because I spent a lot of time working the past fifteen years and it was hard to find someone that liked the real me,” he said. “Not what I could do for them.”

“You did something for me,” you said.

“You’re different,” he said, waving you off as you started to walk across his backyard. “That wasn’t help you land a role or get a job or buy you some expensive crap. That was helping you as a person. That I’ll always be okay with.”

“Well your show is done. Can’t you get back out there?” you asked.

“Yeah. Like I said, just hard to find someone that likes me,” he said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” you said.

“You thinking of asking me out, kiddo?” he smirked.

“You wish, Ackles,” you said, whacking his arm.

“Maybe I do,” he teased, parting ways when you headed around for the front of the house and your car. “Hey, Y/N. The kiddo thing, if it bothers you-”

“It...doesn’t,” you said, a grin crossing his face. “Shut up, Jens.”

“Whatever you say, kiddo,” he laughed. “I’ll swing by around 5:30 to pick you up?”

“I was probably going to just ride with my brother and Gen...and three small children and a ride would be much appreciated,” you said, Jensen chuckling. 

“Hey, Y/N?” he said after a moment, voice a little off. “After dinner, you want to come over and hang out?”

“This sounds really stupid but would you want to...go mini golfing after?” you asked with a wince. He broke out into a big smile and you instantly relaxed.

“It doesn’t sound stupid at all,” he said, stepping over closer to you. “And don’t start your sentences with calling yourself stupid, hm?”

“If that some words of wisdom thing?” you asked.

“That’s a Jensen wants Y/N to be nice to herself thing,” he said. You stared at him, giving him a small nod. “I’ll see you soon.”

He stood there a moment before he pecked a kiss on your cheek, his face flush as he pulled back.

“Uh, later,” he said, waving as he spun around and you bit your bottom lip. You spun around yourself and turned right into your car, letting out a whoof. “You okay?”

“Awesome,” you said, giving him a thumbs up.

“Would hate to have seen what you would have done if I’d properly kissed you,” he said. You turned around and put your hands on your hips. 

“Which one of us was just blushing like a school boy, hm?” you said.

“Shut up, kiddo,” he laughed. “I’ll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Ackles.”

_____

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets: Chapter Fifteen

Calm Before the Storm

Summary: Scoping out the hospital with your new gang, Allanah, Dean and Sam, you finally meet the young girl from your visions, and the man who’s possibly to blame for her state. 

Warnings: language, violence against OC, 

W/C: 3.3k

Masterlist/schedule

Your fingers sting where you’d been chewing at them. A bandage softens the pulsing of your thumb where you’d bitten a little too hard and drew blood. Still, even through the pain, you continue to absentmindedly chew on your fingers and their nails as you walk through the door of the hospital. 

A rush of memories hits you. Everything looks the same; the hallway, the lights, the numbers on the doors, the people. Allanah and Sam walk in front of you, Dean by your side. When you glance over at him, his eyes are wide as he scans the are. “You okay, Dean?” 

“Huh?” he looks over at you, coming out of his trance. “Yeah,” he clears his throat. “As good as I can be after finding out about an alternate dimension where five of my-” he shakes his head, “our children live.” 

You nod sympathetically, “yeah, I’m with you there,” you snort. 

Continuing down the hallway as you follow Allanah, she moves her head from left to right, peering down the hallways and looking at the numbers on the doors. She stops at one, and turns around to face you. 

“This is it, isn’t it?” You point at the door, your heart pounding in your chest, “this is where Luna is, right?” 

Wren - June 6, 2068 Ira, Region 1

Only when I am looking for lights do I realize how abnormally dark this region is. My vision is skewed with the use of only one eye, the other swollen shut. I wrestle with my legs, sometimes having to force them by my hands just to step along this bridge. My hand alternates between picking up my leg and holding my broken, leaking nose in place.

I hear sirens off in the distance, which is not unusual for this region, along with the incessant screaming from all neighborhoods; the song of Ira. Women, children, and men are everyday and every night pleading and begging for their lives. Half of this region are just here to serve as victims to the other half, and me? I remain somewhere in between. Hero by day, villain by night. Though, it depends on who you ask whether I'm the good guy or the bad guy.

I like to think I'm a guy just trying to survive, just like everyone else. I like to go with the flow of things, wherever the wind seems to take me. However, sometimes that leads me into very dark situations like walking along the bridge in the dead of the night after a fight with some dealers, resulting in a bloody nose, black eye, probably a broken foot and an empty stomach.

I'm not a user, but sometimes when necessity strikes I will pose as one. Undercover means that there's always a chance of getting caught. Unfortunately for my broken body, I'd been caught. I was lucky enough to escape, but not before they 'taught me a lesson'. Fuck those guys.

Soon, I will be home. I envision myself peeling my shoes from my bloodied socks, wincing at the pain but sighing at the release of pressure. I watch myself fall onto the semi-carpeted floor of my living room and remaining there forever... or until the power goes out, or perhaps until the eviction notice comes by, whichever happens first. I really don’t give a damn anymore.

The closer I get to the brink of this bridge, the louder and increasingly heart wrenching the screams become. My heart pounds vigorously in my chest. I'd cover my ears if I could, but my hands are treating my legs like the wheels of a wheelchair to keep me going. I am vehemently disgusted and angered by the lack of funds and concern for this region. We're region number one, yet last of all five. How could it get to this point? How could I be the only one fighting for a better living state for Ira?

This isn't a case of just one or two bad neighborhoods like in the other regions. Oh, no. This is a blatant disregard for the livelihood of the folks who live here. Ira might as well be a prison for the 'rejects' of the other four regions. How could they get away with such a wickedness?

This is a region where any street you find yourself on, you'll be a witness to, at best, a bloody robbery, or passed out users, and at worst, a death unfolding right before your eyes. This is not shocking to the folks who live here, and lest you wish death upon yourself, you just don't intervene... to live, you look the other way.

I have to push these thoughts away. There's not much I can do at the moment, this anger is a waste of energy. Reaching my door, I struggle with my keys. I force myself through, taking only one step in before I'm grabbed from all sides and a mesh bag is thrown over my head.

"Hey!" I scream. The fabric is too thick, my voice is muffled and the air is thinning. "What the fuck!"

There's at least four of them. I feel four hands on my arms, the crunching of ones' steps along my floor, and the smacking lips of one standing somewhere in front of me. A heat spreads through my body when I feel the dull, harsh point of a gun barrel against the back of my head, "shut the fuck up!" one barks.

I stiffen my body, growing angry all over again, "how the fuck did you get in here?"

"We'll be ones to ask questions," one says with a kick to my stomach. I buckle over, a gloved hand covers my screams and I'm held up by their hands.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

Another blow to my stomach with the blunt force of a thick knee ejects blood from my mouth. "I said we'll be asking the questions." I'm ripped back into the gun as it presses deeper into the back of my neck, "keep your damn mouth shut, don't fight back, and listen to our rules if you want to live."

I spit the remaining blood from my mouth and onto my carpet, might not get my deposit back but I couldn't lend a thought to that now. I'm sure kidnapped-and-beaten-to-a-bloody-freakin'-pulp is covered somewhere in my renters agreement, this is Ira after all.

"Ah, tell me where we're going at least," I growl in the most intimidating voice I can muster up with my swollen throat.

"Teraw," the man behind me says in a gravelly voice before forcing me out of my door and shoving me down the path and into a car.

-

Allanah peers her head into the room after a knock and steps inside. The three of you follow behind her. It’s just like you’d seen it however many months ago, Luna in a hospital bed with a tube in her throat, the doctor stands with a chart in his hand, a woman is crying beside her and there’s a man in a business suit. 

He turns to face the four of you, pointing a finger, “you’re not supposed to be here,” he screams. “What the Hell are you doing?” 

The doctor catches him by the arm and turns around to face you, “these are some friends of mine, Mr. Grant. Please, just relax.” You look at Allanah with wide eyes, her softly staring out of the window. Mr. Grant huffs, shoving the doctors arm off of him while brushing out his suit. The doctor softens his voice and focuses on the woman, “please, Mrs. Grant, take your husband outside to relax a little, will you?” 

The woman nods, her face scrunched up as tears fall into the tissue she pads her face with. Reluctantly, Mr. Grant wraps his arm around her and they glide out of the room. You take a few steps closer to the bed, placing your hand on Luna’s. 

You feel Dean by your side, but don’t dare to look at him. He places his hand on top of yours and an influx of memories come rushing in. You force your eyes shut to block away the tears. 

“I’m going to need some alone time with her, Dan,” Allanah whispers. “She’ll be up and at ‘em before you know it,” she says in a melancholic, yet chipper voice. 

Dan, you assume, lowers his voice, “whatever you do, make it look normal.” He sighs, “and we’ll talk later about you showing up here out of nowhere,” he says sternly before smiling his goodbyes. 

Allanah coasts to the other side of Luna’s bed, placing her hand over Luna’s forehead and running it gently down to her chin. She stops, looking up at Sam, who stands off in the corner. He takes a few steps towards the bed and Allanah continues to run her hand down Luna’s body. Starting with her collarbone, and working down each arm, she runs her hands down her sides and each leg, confusion written all over her face. 

“What’s happening?” Sam asks. 

Allanah brings her hands up to inspect them, “nothing,” she says somberly. “Nothing is happening at all. My powers,” she pauses, shaking her head. “They don’t work here,” she says, turning to face the three of you. 

Aiden - June 6, 2068

Feri - Region 2

Depression is perilous and conniving. One minute I'm feeling fine and the next I want to strap myself to a chair just to fight the urge to throw myself from the bridge. It's that little voice in the back of my mind that's constantly telling me how worthless I am, telling me that no matter what I do - it's never going to be good enough.

It tells me to be silent. It encourages me not to whisper a single word to anyone because they won't believe me, nor will they care. So I've kept it locked up in the pit of my stomach as it weighs me down. I'm tired even when I sleep. I'm not hungry, even when I haven't eaten for a day or more. I can't breathe, and I can never catch my breath. 

It's constantly gripping onto every fiber in my body, yanking me towards the ground. I'm lying on the floor, staring into nothing. On the surface everything is fine, peachy. On the inside, there's a violent storm of death threats and negative thoughts that I can't seem to escape. I'm living in my own personal Hell, flames and all.

"Aidan!" my co-actor, Richard shouts. "Aidan, come on! Jack said cut like six times, now. Get up," he irritably grunts.

"Sorry," I clear my throat, the lab coat swooping at my feet as I stand. Walking off set and over to the director I ask for a short break to clear my mind. 

My hands shake as I bring the cigarette to my mouth and I can't fathom why. Perhaps it's because I haven't eaten in a while, can't remember. Perhaps I'm just cracking under the pressure. This is no money-making field, this acting thing.

"Hey, Aidan," Richard is calmer now, startling me as he steps to my side with a cigar in his hands. I turn to face the concrete wall and the buildings beyond it. "Is everything all right with you?"

"Why do you ask?" I breathe in a long, relaxing drag of the cigarette.

He casually shrugs, "we lost you for a while back there. Were you zoning out, or what?"

"We got the scene though, right? That was the last take?" I fake enthusiasm that's riddled with anxiety, it seems to pass effectively on my apathetic co-actor.

He pats my back, "we kicked ass, man! That was the best take yet! There using it for the film."

"Good," I sigh out a mixture of pent up stress and cigarette smoke. "I think I'd go a little insane if I had to do that all over again."

"Why?" he snickers. "Working a character that loses his whole family hit a little too close to home for you?"

I glare at him. How could a person sound so genuine and yet sarcastic at the same time? Well, I should know by now. That's Richard.

I throw my cigarette onto the ground, pushing him against the wall with my fists on his shoulders. "Not cool, man. You of all people should know that." I drop him, smoothing out the creases on his suit that I'd caused. I should know by now that I had only given him what he wanted by reacting.

He adjusts himself, putting his hands in the air defensively. "All right, you're right. My bad, man. Sorry," he says with a roll of his eyes.

I glare at him while stamping out the remaining embers with my foot. Heading inside I hear my name, "ah! Aidan, glorious job back there! Listen, Mr. Grant called," he nearly shakes in excitement. "He wants us to shoot the hospital scenes in his district's hospital. What do you say we head to Teraw today?"

- 

There’s a faint knock at the door, and soon after Dan enters the room with Luna’s parents behind him. Mr. Grant pushes past his wife and Dan to stand by Luna’s side. 

Mr. Grant turns to face Dan, “Doctor, I’ll have you escort them out immediately, or else I’ll call someone to do me the favor,” he growls. 

Leaving the room, there’s a small rumble as you walk down the hallway. Your eyes shoot up at Dean, leaning on him for stability. “You feel that?” you ask, glancing over at Allanah and Sam. 

Allanah’s eye is caught by the flickering of the lights and sway of the floor. 

“There! Go, now!” she screams, pointing down the hallway of nurses and wandering patients as they run about, filing it up with their screams. She presses her palms into your sides, flipping you around to face in the other direction, and pushes you to start running. Dean and Sam stay close behind as you sprint down the shifting hallway. 

“What about Luna?” you cry out. 

“Dan will take care of her, we have to move! Now, go!” She points at a door, “there’s tables in that room, go!” 

Sam pushes you into Dean and the three of you into the room, all of you running to sit under a table. A large cabinet wobbles before falling in front of the door, blocking you in. 

Somewhere in the hospital a siren is blaring, and the shaking gets more violent than before. Uncovering your ears, you lift yourself up to peer out of one of the windows. You jaw drops and a gasp escapes you as you see the water from underneath the bridge clashing against the side of the hospital, destroying houses and smaller buildings in its wake. 

The rumbling continues as pieces fall from the hospital. Patients are screaming and doctors can be heard calling after them, trying to herd everyone to safety. 

Allanah shuffles over to you in a crouch, “we need to find the children,” she shouts, just barely to be heard over the ear splitting alarm. 

You peak your head from under the table and look between the brothers as they scan the room for a way out. Pulling yourself from your squat you stand next to Allanah, “how?” you point over at the cabinet in front of the door, “we’re blocked in!” 

Allanah matches your gaze at the door, then looks out of the window at the raging ocean waters as they crash against the side of the building. Walking over to the door, she extends her palms out at the fallen cabinets. She exerts all of her energy into what you assume is an attempt to move it. Turning back to you and the brothers, her face falls flat. 

“I guess I really don’t have any powers here,” she says, looking down into her shaking hands. “That son of a-” 

“Okay, okay,” you say, taking a few steps towards her, “looks like you’ve been around Dean a little too long,” you chuckle. “Look, it’s fine. There are four of us here, I’m sure we could muster up the strength to get the door clear.” You glance over at them, and shake your head once, “come on, guys.” 

Sam readily strolls to the cabinet, while Dean mopes over. With eight hands gripping onto it, you count to three and all pull together, blowing raspberries at the weight and scrunching up your faces. It takes a few tries, and balancing it on your knees to get it out of the way, but crashes against the floor with a loud bang, rattling the other cabinets in the room. 

You push your way out of the door and into the now empty halls. The screaming has faded out and the only sound comes from a television on the corner of the wall in one of the waiting rooms. You gravitate towards it, taking heavy steps. 

“This is an official evacuation notice from Teraw authorities and weather administrators. It is heavily advised that all residents get to safety in the wake of the sudden, and unpredictable, Hurricane Vampurica,” the monotone voice repeats over a multi-color strip before giving out a collection of resources to call and a way to help others. 

“Vampurica?” Dean grunts. You turn around to see him standing behind you, Allanah and Sam close behind. “Do they even-” he sighs. “Know what? It doesn’t even matter,” he groans, turning around and storming down the hallway. 

You focus on the doors, searching for the one Luna had been in. Ignoring everyone else, you run for it and open the door to find an empty bed. Sheets and blankets in a pile on the floor, and the chair is tipped over. 

“Where would he have taken her?” you ask Allanah as she approaches your side. 

“I’m not sure,” she lulls. 

A sharp pain in your temple sends you to the ground, grunting and calling out as the pain runs down your neck and into your back. 

Dean drops to your side, “Y/N! What’s going on?” he shouts, running his hands along your arm and pulling you over onto your back. You hold your hands up to your head, putting pressure on your temples to soften the pain. “Y/N-” he shouts before groaning out in pain. 

Sam and Allanah are at your sides as you and Dean writhe in pain. The last thing you see before your eyes shut is Sam nervously looking you over, fear written on his face. 

- 

Before you is a large, three story house and to your side is Dean, standing dazed and looking you over with wide eyes. 

“Great,” he scowls. “What could possibly go wrong?” 

“It’s okay, Dean,” you whine in frustration. “We’re not actually here. I doubt anyone could even see us,” you say, taking a few steps towards the brick pathway that leads to the door. 

Dean grabs onto your arm, twisting you around to face him. He points at the house, “if that guy is in there, he’ll see us. He did last time, remember?” 

“No, I don’t think he did. Don’t you remember what he said to us when we showed up with Sam and Allanah? It was the same thing as then, so I guess we just traveled there at the same time...” you trail off, not exactly believing yourself so you know you can’t expect him to. 

“Why didn’t we see us, then?” he says. “If we were there in that moment, we should have been able to see us, too, right?” 

“Let’s just be extra careful in there, then. Pretend like we’re in our bodies and anyone can see us.” He doesn’t move his face, nor says anything. “Please, Dean. I need to know if she’s okay! I have this- this need to save them, protect them. Don’t you?” you impatiently yell. Without saying a word, he relaxes slightly. With an open palm he gestures to the house. You crouch as you walk towards it, scanning the building for an open window. 

Next Chapter

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[girlinthepictureframe]

The Briefest Kiss Part 15

Early April 2019

“Miles!” Suki made her way through the busy club and smiled when she reached him. “Oh, it’s been too long, isn’t it?” She pecked his cheek, then pinched it playfully. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” said Miles, scooting to the side of the large velvet sofa in the back of the VIP area of the club, away from prying eyes and cameras, to make room for her. “How are you? I’ve heard you’re constantly jetting back and forth these days! Life is good, then?”

“Life is amazing,” she smiled. “Are you single at the moment?” The smile made way for a sneaky grin. “I gotta ask ‘cause I’m here with this friend of mine and she’s very into The Beatles. Also, she looks a bit like me, so she’s totally your type!”

He laughed. “Appreciate that, but…it’s the wrong time for that.”

She sat closer to him. “Why? Are you seeing anybody? Do I know her?”

“There's not…exactly...” He chuckled at himself. Explaining it felt rather ridiculous. “A long story. I don’t want to bore you with that.”

“Bore me good,” smirked Suki, put her purse on the floor, crossed her legs and grabbed the drink from his hand. “Bore me real good, darling!”

He loved that there was no lingering awkwardness between them. For as long as they had dated, years ago, things had been good. And when things had stopped being good, they had parted as genuine friends. Which mattered a lot to him, for he had always admired and appreciated her view of the world and her fearless approach to life.

She gave him a pointed look. “Start talking. I want to know.”

“There’s a somebody, alright. And I’m in love.”

“So you do have a somebody! Who is it?”

“It’s a somebody that���s not mine. He doesn’t feel the same.”

“How dare he?” she asked, offended on his behalf. “Do I know him?” He swallowed and she smiled. “Oh, I know him! Who is it? A model? A musician? An actor?”

“You’re not surprised that it’s a guy?”

“No? Why should I be? It’s 2019, Miles. Love whomever. But nice way of changing the topic. Come on, who is it?”

The waiter stopped by and he grabbed another drink from the tray when she leaned in and whispered, “is it Alex?”

Miles almost dropped the glass.

Suki giggled. “Damn, I’m good.” She pulled out her phone and started texting. A moment later, the phone vibrated. She giggled louder.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Telling Alexa that she owes me money!”

“What? Why?” He was lost. Completely.

“We made a bet years ago! I said you would fall first and she said he would fall first. You did fall first, right?” She eyed him skeptically. “I got my eyes on a nice pair of very expensive suede boots. Be honest here!”

“Told you,” assured Miles. “He’s not into me.”

“How would you know, though?”



“I just do!” he said.

She gnawed on her bottom lip. Unconvinced. “You’re a guy. Guys and love. That’s a whole other thing. Let me demonstrate.” She turned towards him, cupped his face and looked deeply into his eyes. “I love you.” Then she pressed a quick kiss on his lips.

Miles leaned back a bit, suddenly uncomfortable. “Um…”

She burst out laughing. “See?”


He shook his head. No, he was too stunned, too confused, to see.

“You’re a guy. You hear something, you believe it. The bunch of like your lives simple like that. But feelings are complicated.” She linked her arm with his and tipped their glasses together. “I’ve met Alex. I’ve seen you with him. The two of you…you’re two halves of a whole. Everyone always says so.”

“Alex and I…there’s a certain kind of attraction,” allowed Miles. “I won’t deny that. And something might have happened, but,” he added quickly, seeing her wide eyes, “I won’t spill anymore details! However, he and I are friends.”

“That’s not a reason not to be with somebody when you love him.” She winked at him. “You are I were friends.”

She was cornering him and he didn’t like that. “But—”

“No but. Think about it, Miles. Whatever it is that you and he have done, would you have done it with a stranger? Would it have felt the same?”

“No,” he admitted, “but I don’t deny that I’m in love with him.”

“Do you think he would have done it with a stranger? Would he have done, whatever he has done, without a certain kind of feeling for you?”

Would he? Miles was struck. It hadn’t been a simple kind of fuck. He’d had those in his life. He knew those felt different. The kind of thing he had experienced with Alex was different. It was haunting. It still lingered on his body, like a scent one couldn't shrug. It was one of the reasons it left him longing for more of it. It had been the kind of thing that showed you that life had something else, something more to offer – something you never even knew existed.

“You should tell him.”

“That I’m in love with him? I can’t, Suki. How selfish would that be? I unburden my heart and place all that weight on his? Besides,” confessed Miles. “Even if he shared those feelings, it wouldn't change anything. We would never work out. I mean, you’re the one who told me I’m not made for the forever-kind-of-love.”

She rolled his eyes. “We had just broken up, Miles. I was hurt. I said something I shouldn’t have said. I also said that you had the worst style ever and then I went and stole half of your closet! So what if you try and fail?”

“If we fail, I’ll lose him,” said Miles.

Suki shook her head. “I wish you weren't this pessimistic. We need another drink. Let’s party that gloominess out of you!”

Present Day

May 2019

Miles checked his phone. Again. When he had told Alex not to call him, he hadn’t really foreseen that he’d take that literally. Radio silence, week three. He tossed the pencil across the room, sighed heavily and leaned back on the cold floor of his London apartment. Surrounded by his acoustic, two electrics, an amp, a notepad and a withering biology book, Miles felt cornered. Every item in his vicinity was telling him to express his feelings, to write it down, to sing it out or to just let go, but the words refused to come to him today. They had abandoned him, along with his good mood, his interest in being sociable and every other reason to leave the apartment and enjoy life.

Instead, here he was, on the floor of a dimly lit room that was filled with memories of a life that used to be his and which he might never regain. Okay, fine. Maybe he was a bit dramatic. Melodramatic, even. But he was lovesick! He had a right to be pathetic and miserable! He checked the phone again.

Still nothing! “Argh!”

Miles sat up, grabbed the notepad and tried anew. Going through the scribbled remains of what once had been good ideas but now felt like mere nonsense, he tried to spot the bits that were worth holding onto. A few words here and there, maybe even half a stanza. Where was the damn pencil? He stretched, reached it and flipped through the notepad for an empty page, only to roll his eyes hard.

It was an old notepad he’d taken from Alex weeks ago, after having had to wait around for him in his childhood room. Only Alex had a habit of randomly choosing pages to write down on. A normal person would start at the beginning, then work his way through it page by page. Not Alex. And now Miles had to flip through page after page on the hunt for a blank one. He could take one of his one pads, but that would require getting off the floor, walking towards the shelf, pulling one out…all in all, it was just too much work.

Flip. Flip. Flip. Perfect! Blank pa—

Miles flipped back to the one before that.

His pulse began to drum. His heart-rate sped up.

“Dear Miles…”

The letter that Alex had mentioned back on New Year’s Eve. Here it was. In his hands. Available. He quickly shut the notepad and shoved it away from him. He stared at it from a distance as it laid on the floor, taunting him. Answers. In his reach. Right there, in front of him. But should he read the letter? Wasn’t it a bit like reading a trusted friend’s diary? Alex had told him that some of the letters were too raw, too honest. To read them without Alex’s consent would be awful, wouldn’t it?

Miles’ foot began to wiggle fast. He was fighting the urge to grab the notepad. What would Alex do? Would he read it, if roles were reversed? No. Or? The wiggling got stronger. Both feet were restless. He jumped up, began walk up and down the living room. Should he call Alex? Should he ask for permission? Alex wouldn’t give it to him, else he would have sent him the letter!

But he had mentioned the letters to him, which could mean that, maybe, subconsciously, he did want him to know what was inside. Right? “Oooh,” he whined, frustrated with this conundrum. He came to a stop in front of the item in question, tapped it with the tip of his foot. It looked so innocent and harmless. But it wasn’t. It was a ticking time bomb! A trap! It was the apple that would get him kicked out out of paradise.

“I’m going to hell for this!” Miles dropped to his knees, flipped to the page and began reading.

“Dear Miles,


Speaking my mind, as becomes clearer to me day by day, is, for now, entirely unmanageable. As I have told you last fall, I could fill a series of albums with the amount of truths I’d like to share with you. But it’s not the notion of being honest that makes me avoid doing so, it’s the part that follows. I quite fear for your reaction. We’ve always been brutally honest with each other and there’s never been a moment in which I’ve regretted it. Until now, though, there has never been a truth as big as the one which is currently burdening my shoulders. I’m in love with you. And not just a little bit. Imagine that. I want to be your friend, but in your presence my heart’s desires overpower my mind’s demands. I want you to trust me with your friendship, but how can I ask that of you when I don’t trust my own self to keep a platonic distance towards you? I miss our nearness, our comfortable proximity, I miss the warmth I received in your arms when you held me as your friend, but how do I return into your friendly embrace when the longing for a different heat makes me seek out your arms in an utterly carnal manner? These are the questions I need to find answers to before I can figure out how to make amends for the mess I’ve created. I hope that yo—”

“He’s in love with me,” whispered Miles in utter disbelief. “How is that possible?” He couldn’t form a clear thought. Instead, all they had ever done, every moment they had ever shared from the very second they had met flooded his head all at once. Images of them holding each other close. Recollections of conversations they had shared – deeply personal ones, of topics he’d never discus with anyone else. Flashbacks of their time on stage together, lost in each other, while surrounded by hundreds and thousands.

Miles got up, went to grab his coat, a large paper bag with a backpack in it, his keys and then headed down to get a cab. It was too big of a statement, too massive a thing, to just read and believe. He needed to hear it from Alex. He needed to see Alex and hear him say it or else he wouldn’t believe it. This wasn’t the kind of thing one just accepted. This was something else, something bigger.

Only, when he finally reached Alex’s place, damn fucker didn’t open the door! Miles grumbled a rotten curse under his breath. “Alex, it’s me. Open up!”

“He isn’t here, Miles.”

Miles turned to find Alex’s neighbor standing in the doorway, an amused grin on her face. The woman was in her early eighties and at times mistook him for an old acquaintance of hers. “Where is he, Mrs. Finch?”

“Can’t tell you. Left with one of those really big suitcases last week. Haven’t seen him since.”

Facing away from the door, Miles leaned back against it. Exhausted. Angry. Restless. Impatient. Full of energy but completely drained all at once. Alex could be anywhere in the world right now. Could be in France, with Louise. Could be in bed with her right now. The very thought brought on a wave of nausea and he quickly pushed it away. He dug his phone out of his pocket and dialed Alex’s number, only to be told by a computer-generated voice that the person he was trying to call was temporarily unavailable. He bit his tongue from cursing again. He tried messaging him, but his phone let him know that his message couldn’t be delivered. “Fuck, Al. Where are you?”

He considered calling Alex’s parents but the fact that Al had his phone off and couldn’t be reached would needlessly worry them and that he didn’t want to do. He could call Louise, but what if Alex was indeed with her? He couldn’t bear the idea, least of all the confirmation of that. Miles took the big paper bag. “Mrs. Finch, may I ask a favor of you? Would you be so kind to give this to Alex once he returns? If I get a hold of him before you do, I’ll return and collect it.”

“Of course.” She sneaked a glance into the paper bag. “Is this his backpack?”

Well, thought Miles, hopefully it would become his. He nodded at her and smiled. “See you soon, Mrs. Finch. Thank you very much.”

---

“Open the fucking door, you double-standard-applying, never-doing-what-you-want-me-to-do, generous, sweet-talking-old-ladies bastard!”

Miles, who had just fallen asleep on the couch and was torn wether he may or may not be dreaming at the moment, all but stumbled towards the door and pulled it open and said the first thing that came to his hazy mind. “You really need to learn how to curse right.”

Alex stormed past him, roughly shoving the backpack into Miles’ arms. “I just came back from very long, very exhausting, extremely delayed flight from Los Angeles only to find my neighbor all but attack me in my hallway as I’m opening my door. She was telling me a really strange story about some tall guy in a brown coat who had dropped by earlier and was quite disturbed by the fact that I wasn’t at home because, apparently, you desperately wanted to return a backpack to me!”

Miles was still wiping the sleep from his eyes, only slowly realizing that Alex Turner, his Alex, the one who was supposedly more than a little in love with him, was actually standing in his apartment right now and he was wearing a leather jacket. The latter part Miles found a bit rude. It was just as rude that somebody who had spent so many supposedly awful hours on a plane was looking so fucking ravishing this late into the night! He became aware of the backpack in his arms and held it out to Alex. “Merry Christmas.”

Alex shot him a fierce, frightening glare. “Do you have any idea how tempted I am to punch you right now?”

When Alex didn’t take the backpack, Miles dropped it on the floor. “Very?”

“Don’t push it,” warned Alex, his voice rising. “You told me to leave you alone! You left that hotel room! And I get that I fucked up, okay? But you didn’t speak a word to me for weeks and out of bloody nowhere you drop by and leave that for me?”

“You weren’t home. I wanted you to have it,” said Miles.

“Now? Why today? Without any explanation?” Alex met Miles’ eyes, then frowned. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Miles looked away. Oh God, had he drooled? “Like what?”

“Like I’m a ghost or something.”

A flash of relief overcame him. “I’m not sure I’m really awake at the moment.” Miles walked back to the couch and sat down on the edge of it. Alex was here. Was Alex in love with him? How did one ask a question like that? Was it a yes or no question? Did it require eloquence? And where did he put that aspirin? “I could be dreaming right now.”

“You’re not,” assured Alex, unamused. “I’m more than happy to pinch you as proof!”

“Could you?”

“Miles! You’re not dreaming! Why would even think that? What’s so bloody good about this moment that you would want to dream about it? I’m not here to thank you for your gift! I’m pissed off right now and you know why!” He walked into the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water. Once he drank some, he placed it away, got rid of his jacket and sat down on a chair.

Miles was confused about it all. “You’re getting comfortable?” Did he intend to stay? Would this be a longer visit? “Are you staying?”

Alex scoffed. “Yes! I’m not done yelling at you! But it was long day and I’m tired. And jet-lagged. And hungry. Got anything good in your fridge or just the green stuff?”

Miles pinched his own arm. “Ow!”

“Bloody hell, Kane! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you tripping on cold meds again? Is that a thing now?”

Shaking his head, Miles wondered if he’d ever snap out of his daze. It all felt so surreal. Alex Turner, who may or may not be in love with him, was in his apartment, irate at him for what Miles considered to be a very thoughtful gift, and he was also hungry. And even though Miles had a million questions he wanted to ask, all of which centered on the topic of ‘love’, the one thing he eventually did say was completely asinine. “I tried calling you today. Your phone was dead.”

“Well…” Alex seemed startled at the question, but then he looked at the floor, shrugging almost embarrassedly. “Threw it against the wall of that hotel room after you left. Decided to give up on phones altogether. They’re overrated anyway.”

“You…threw…” Miles started to laugh. The entire situation was simply too much. He was tired, confused, still shellshocked by Alex’s letter and now that he was actually sitting face to face with him, Miles was done for. It was either crying or laughing and laughing seemed the wiser, less awkward thing to do.

“You must be tripping right now,” concluded Alex, reached for the bottle of water on table next to him. And froze.

Miles noticed, saw what his friend’s eyes were focusing on and all laughter died.

“How did that get here?” Alex didn’t look at Miles. His eyes were firmly glued to the yellow notepad on the table. The visible page held Alex’s letter to Miles.

“I needed something to write when I visited you in Sheffield. I just grabbed one of your old ones from the shelf. I hadn’t noticed the letter until today.”

“You’ve read it, then.”

“Is it true, Al?” Miles couldn’t even read Alex’s feelings for he was so bloody somber and emotionless at the moment.

Alex stood up after a minute, began pacing the room. He was still avoiding Miles’ eyes.

“Tell me, is it true?!”

“You think I would joke about something like that?”

Alex’s disgust at the mere suggestion was visible. But Miles didn’t care. He needed to hear it from him. He needed to hear him say it and see him speak the words. To him, it was that big of a thing. “Say it, Alex. Just, please, fucking say it!” Miles was pleading.

“I wanted to say it when I came to that party,” Alex explained, staying as far away from Miles as the living room allowed it. “I wanted to tell you in the hotel. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about! I wanted to ask you how you felt about me, Miles. ‘Cause I needed to hear it from you! I had this idea that maybe you were— that maybe you felt something like that for me! But it’s so hard to say it loud. It’s so hard to ask when the answer can hurt so much!”

“What made you think that my answer would hurt you?” whispered Miles, feeling so close to everything and yet so far from it all.

Alex stopped and stared at the ceiling. “I saw the pictures of you and Suki and…”

Miles took a sharp breath. “That’s why you…”

“That’s why I asked about her and you. And that,” said Alex, swallowing hard, “is why I hadn’t broken up with Louise yet. I never loved her, Miles.” He sat back down, covering his face with his hands. “Taylor broke up with me because I’m an asshole. And she was right to do so. But when she did, she didn’t break my heart. She broke my head. She put this thought into my head that I was in love with you…”

Miles gasped when he heard the words rolling from Alex’s lips. He sat up straight, leaned forward, strained to hear every last letter Alex spoke.

“And it freaked me out,” admitted Alex quietly. “Not because it meant I was attracted to a man, but because I was attracted to you. To my best friend. To the one person I can’t do without. For a while, I denied it. I fought it. But it didn’t work, it got worse. Louise was my safety cushion. She stopped me from getting lost in my thoughts. And that day at the concert hall on the day we… I brought her along so I could hide behind her when you…when you were around. And when you weren’t there, she kept me from feeling lonely. I didn’t break up with her ‘cause I was afraid you weren’t in— you felt different about me.” Alex dropped his hands, looked at the floor and sighed. “Here’s the answer you’ve been waiting for since last fall: I walked out because I was afraid you’d wake up, look at me, and regret what we had done. I was afraid you’d be disgusted when…when all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and do it all over again. If I had stayed, if I had seen just a flicker of remorse in your eyes, it would irreversibly broken my heart. And so I left.”

For a long while they just sat in silence. They had yet to make eye contact. Miles tried, but Alex put up a tough fight. After a very long, brutal pause, Alex spoke up again. “What does it matter if I do, Miles.” His voice sounded bitterly resigned. “Look at us. You and I, we’ve never had a functioning relationship in our lives. Imagine if we tried, together. I mean…we don’t even manage to meet up as friends! I just got back from Los Angeles and you’re leaving for France tomorrow. By the time I get to France, you’ll be in Italy, then Spain or Portugal? Somebody told me you’re headed to Russia this summer. And those are just the few I can name from the top of my head. I need to stay here, ‘cause I got meetings, then there’s a wedding in LA I promised to attend. My parents are asking for me to spend a bit of time with them this summer… I’m a mess in relationships. I get antsy and feel cornered easily. I’m selfish and restless. And it’s not just me. You told me how the idea of being stuck with somebody freaks you out. You love your freedom and I love mine. We would trap each other. We would ruin each other!”

Miles’ heart broke all over again. But it wasn’t the fact that Alex was telling him that the chances for a relationship between them to survive were slim to none, it was the realization that Alex had considered it and had come to the same conclusion that Miles had come to, himself. Alex shared his fears and worries, which made him see that he wasn’t crazy or overly worried. It made him see that he had valid fears and valid worries.

“I’m in love with you,” whispered Alex, at long last, looking directly into Miles’ eyes.

The words made him breathless. To hear them, to actually hear them? It was something he so often tried but never succeeded in imagining. No fantasy of it would have ever given justice to the real thing. And, suddenly, unexpectedly, it was so very easy to say them back. “I’m in love with you,” replied Miles.

“But I’m afraid,” continued Alex, “that, should I ever lose you, I won’t recover from that.”

“Neither would I,” Miles admitted. He gave Alex the world’s most helpless smile. “We’re destined for a life of misery, aren’t we?”

Alex chuckled, then became somber and serious again. He took in a shaky breath. “I’d rather have a little bit of you than nothing at all.” He got up, walked over to Miles and gave his cheek the gentlest of caresses. He closed his eyes, leaned down and kissed the top of his head. “My heart was yours long before I knew I could lose it. Know that.” Letting go, Alex grabbed his jacket, put it on and, looking at the backpack on the floor, he reminded Miles, “you know why I can’t take it, right?”

“Penguins.”

“Penguins,” nodded Alex.

As Alex made his way to the door, Miles got up, took a few large strides towards him, spun him around and kissed him hard. Alex didn’t push back or protest. He just held on to Miles and returned the kiss with as much desperation as possible. “I don’t regret our night,” stated Miles. Another kiss. “It’s the one thing in my life I will never regret.” One last kiss. He let his lips linger. Pulling away was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But he did it anyway.

Alex opened the door. “Call me when you land in France.”

“You no longer have a phone.” What a silly conversation to have at this moment.

“Right.” Alex nodded. “I should get a new one,” he concluded and smiled a small smile. “I’ll call you.”

Miles wanted to touch him again, kiss him again, hold on to him and never let go, but he couldn’t. So he didn’t. “Night, Alex.”

“Night, Miles.” Then he was gone.

Miles closed the door, leaned back against it and slid down to the floor.

How had this happened? How could this day have been such a rollercoaster ride of emotions? He’d gone from melancholic to shocked to energetic to happy to breathlessly overjoyed to heartbroken all within the span of a few hours.

His head rolled back against the wooden door and came to a rest with a thud. How powerful this love of theirs was, for two grown-up people to be so thoroughly afraid of it.

Half an hour later, Miles had recovered enough to gather the backpack from the floor, place it back in the closet of his bedroom, grab his suitcase and start packing. France would do him good right now. It would distract him and keep his mind from drifting back to one he longed for.  

Once all the clothes, shoes and necessities were stuffed, he grabbed his laptop and prepared a playlist for the travel. Any other day, he’d have begun with the Beatles classics. But not today. All You Need Is Love was sitting there, on the screen, paused, and it made him snort.

What a lie.

What a huge, fucking, disgusting lie.

Spoilers Part 16:

“You’re still in bed? What are you wearing?”

Miles laughed hard. “Dirty, Alex. Real dirty!”

[dc41896]

Nighttime Mukbang

So this is my first imagine, well first on here and that I’ve written in a long time so yea I’m a bit nervous but hopefully you like it! Also I’m not sure if I’ll do this consistently so I’m just gonna let you know now if this is the only story you see then *Kanye shrug* I’m sorry! (I’ve been getting ideas lately though so who knows what’ll happen!)

Warnings: None (unless you’re allergic to/can’t stand fluff because that’s all this is lol)

“Hey guys! For my regular degulars thanks for coming back and for the new people out there, I’m Y/N and welcome to my channel of literally any and everything!” You greet with a smile and wave while looking at the camera.

“Now I know some of y’all may be wondering who this is beside me, so- actually you know what? Would you like to introduce yourself or do you want me to do it?” You ask directing your attention to your guest for today’s video, locking eyes with his green ones.

“Nah I can do it” he smiles, sitting up a bit from his relaxed position on your couch. “What’s up guys, my name is Florian Munteanu aka Big Nasty and I’m an actor. You guys probably saw me in Creed 2 as Viktor Drago, Ivan Drago’s son. For those of you who haven’t seen it yet, go and buy it now because it’s amazing and Y/N agrees with me so if you don’t take my word for it take hers!” Florian laughs a bit as he leans on you, which in turn makes you laugh. Not only at his adorableness but also the fact that you know his big body leaning on yours probably looks hilarious.

“Yes it’s really good and I’m not saying that because I’m his friend, you guys know I would never lie to you. As I say here every week, y’all are my family and family keeps it real no matter what! Alright so now that we got intros out of the way, let’s get into today’s video which even Flo doesn’t know about but I feel like he’s gonna enjoy” you wink in the camera, making Florian a bit nervous even though he would never admit it.

“Alright so today we’re doing a mukbang/nighttime routine BUT there’s a twist...” you pause to look at the amused look on his face. “The twist is we’re switching routines so what you do as a nighttime routine I’m gonna do and vice versa” you explain. As you finish Florian laughs in his signature boisterous style, “This is gonna be something, but I’m excited to see how this goes.”

“Alright then lets go to the bathroom and get started!” As you get up to leave, you see Florian throw a punch towards the camera as he makes a “pop” sound with his mouth making you laugh and shake your head at the belief that this was your friend who you had to deal with for the remainder of the day.

“As you see we’re in the bathroom so we’re gonna go ahead and get started! I went ahead and bought a small little face brush since you can’t use mine due to sanitary reasons” you smile as you slide the small container of facial products towards his side of the sink. “Oh! And for those of you who judged my decision to get his and hers sinks even though I’m by myself, jokes on you because they came in handy so HA!” Seeing you point a finger to the camera and smile in a matter of fact way, Florian laughs before countering with “So what happens when I’m not here or you don’t have a guest using your bathroom?” draping his log of an arm over your shoulders and leaning down so your faces were somewhat at an equal level.

“....extra counter space” you answer causing an eruption of laughter from the both of you.

Shortly after, you both began to start your new nighttime routines. Well you started while he looked at all your products wondering where to start.

“Ok you have all this stuff you use so you know I’m gonna need help” he says as he tries to read what everything is and the directions as to not make any mistakes.

“First wash your face with this cleanser and then I’ll help you put on the mask so don’t do anything else” you reply as you dry your face pretty much already done with your routine since all Florian does at night is wash his face, put on moisturizer, then fall asleep. Gotta love men gifted with good skin.

After washing his face, you sit him down in a chair you brought in the bathroom just in case you would have to help him with something. “It never ceases to amaze me how women go through all these steps every day” he admits while you paint the warming mask on his face with a brush. “Well not all girls use this many products. Some use more and some use less, it just varies. Plus if some guys and people weren’t such jerks then maybe we would feel comfortable with going out with pimples and acne scars” you answer looking in the camera while saying your last sentence as if you were reading someone on sight.

“Easy, easy Y/N” Florian laughs while getting up to wash the mask off of his face after you finished, “Sounds like you’re talking from experience. We need to go beat up somebody?”

“No but I’ve seen people talk about others with acne and stuff and I just think it’s wrong. Like I’m sure that person is already insecure about that so why rub it in their face more? Also I now know you’re down if I ever have to jump someone though so thank you for that” you laugh while nudging his arm as he dried off his face.

“No problem, you know I got your back just like you got mine,” he replies leaning on the sink “Now what’s next?” “Next is a pore strip!” you answer while doing a little dance as you remove the black material from the sleeve making Florian let out a small groan but laugh after since he voluntarily signed up for this.

“Now is the mukbang part of the video where we’re gonna answer some of the questions you guys sent me via Instagram! For those of you who saw my story today, which will be a different day than when this video comes out, you guys already got a sneak peak as to who my mystery guest was while we were picking up our food and that’s also when I asked you guys to send in questions that we could answer while we eat” you explain while sitting on the couch with your legs placed under you, pad thai in hand. Sat next to you with legs spread wide open and his knee slightly brushing your legs, Florian had his usual personal box of pizza and was already going to town on it while you were giving the small details on what you guys were doing next.

“Ok first question, how did you guys meet?” you read off your phone before putting it down in the small space that was between the two of you. “Yea how did we meet Y/N?” he repeated with a smirk on his face. In his 28 years of life, you could imagine the amount of stories that he had and while you didn’t know all of them, you were sure how you guys met was one of his favorites. “Oh gosh here we go,” you laugh before taking a sip of the water you had on the table in front of you. “So picture it. Sicily. 1950. I’m kidding I’m kidding, if you know that reference you a real one!” you say making Florian laugh. “But really though, as you guys know, I’m cool with Steelo and did an episode of the Wine and Weed podcast, which is amazing and all of you guys should check it out and support him! Anyway, on said podcast, celeb crushes were mentioned and I said how Flo was my crush and Steelo being the mess he is told Mike who told Flo and yea now we’re friends” you quickly finish hoping that your slight embarrassment doesn’t show too bad. However from the rumbles of his belly laugh, you knew Florian was about to fill in the small details you thought best to leave out.

“Yea that’s the summary, but she didn’t tell you guys how it was a surprise meeting and the look on her face when she walked in the room and saw I was there was priceless! She couldn’t stop smiling either which was adorable-“ “OK! Ok! They get it, I fangirled hard over you. Moving on!” you laugh cutting him off by covering his mouth with your hand. “Next question please!” you say while picking up your phone to choose which one you wanted to answer.

“OMG I didn’t know you guys were friends!! How long has this been for and why you aint tell us?!?!?!” you read while laughing, “I’m gonna let you answer this one and see if you’ve been paying attention to this friendship” you smirk while looking at Florian and picking up your chopsticks to get a few more bites of your food.

“We’ve been friends going on 3 months now, which is crazy because we’re really comfortable with each other as if we’ve been friends for years,” he answers sitting up and looking in the camera then at you as he finished. He wasn’t only right about the time you guys were friends but his statement on how comfortable you guys were around each other was undeniable and definitely didn’t help the fact that you were trying to erase him as your crush. Like he said you guys were great friends. FRIENDS. That’s all that it should and would be; there was no changing your mind about it.

“Woowww he got it rightttt! 4 for you Flo, you go Flo!!!” you clap and laugh as he places his hand on his heart and slightly bends down as to do a bow while seated. “He’s right though on both accounts. We’re both big into vibes and energies and the second time we hung out he said he didn’t want to sound weird but that he could tell I was a good person from the vibe I gave off, which is probably the best compliment I’ve ever received,” you explained trying to avoid looking at him, but feeling that he was staring at you the whole time you spoke, you couldn’t help but look up and see his seemingly soul catching eyes and beautiful smile. Dangit! Why did he have to be like this?! Why couldn’t he be a F boy and make it easy for me to get over by just playing some Cardi B or Megan thee Stallion?! He really had some nerve being this amazing.

“Ok guys, this is gonna be the last question for now because this part paired with the nighttime routine is gonna make the video super long and while I know you guys would love that, you know I have a time limit with my videos that I have to live by or else my account decides it wants to freak out,” you explain while sitting up to pick a question, Florian following right behind you with your movement. “What I think I’m gonna do is have us answer some of the questions on my story on insta so for you guys that follow me, you’re basically gonna see the second part of this Q&A in a few minutes when we switch over! So last question, are you guys dating/would you ever date? Sorry if it’s too invasive, I’m just excited for you girl on behalf of all the fangirls out here!” you read as both you and Florian give a small laugh.

“No we’re not dating, we’re just friends,” you begin answering before you feel a lump in your throat from your nerves. You were sure he’d say the same thing you were about to say, but something inside of you wondered how he would feel when you gave your answer. “Honestly, I don’t think we would ever date.” “Why?” Florian asked as soon as your answer left your lips. “I mean it’s not that I’m not attracted to you, I just think since we’re friends if we dated that would ruin the friendship. Like you said earlier we act like we’ve been friends for years when that’s not the case and that’s really telling I feel like. Plus not to put myself down but we’re a bit on two different spectrums,” you say as you let out a small laugh and move a strand of hair out of your face.

“Oh,” he replied slightly nodding his head, “Well my answer is that I would be open to it. Like you said we’re close friends but also no one knows what the future holds.”

“Ummm, excuse me? Did he just say that? SIR!! Thank you for ruining ANY chance I had at getting over you!” you thought as you just looked at him taking in everything that he said. And trying not to freak out. “And we’re not on different spectrums,” he added as he sat back into his usual relaxed position.

“Yea maybe after my usual nighttime routine! Look at your face right now, that’s your spectrum but I have to go through all those steps while you only have like 2” you laugh trying to be funny but see Florian shake his head as he sits up to be closer to you again. He wipes his hands on a napkin before gently grabbing your chin and turning to look at the monitor set up in front of you guys. “Now look at your face. You did my usual routine and you still glow like the adorable fangirl I met 3 months ago,” he counters looking at you through the monitor. You were honestly stunned at what just happened. “He just said that because we’re friends, not like anything is meant by it,” you told yourself as your face was still in his hands only not looking at the monitor now but him as he looked back at you, adorable smile plastered on his cherub face.

“Just so you know that night I met you, I was wearing makeup so….” “OH MY GOSH Y/N you know what I was trying to say!” he laughs letting go of your face to lay his forehead on your shoulder exasperatedly from you ignoring what he just said and trying to brush off his compliment. “I know what you were trying to say and thank you it means a lot,” you smile as you place your arm around his back (well tried to, it only reached to his shoulder blade because mans is so massive) to give him a hug. Florian responded to your gesture by wrapping both his arms around your waist to pull you in for a bear hug, which caused you to burst out into a fit of giggles since he was also causing you to fall down in the process. “Ok guys! That’s the video! Hope you enjoyed it and decide to come back! Thanks Flo for being in this video and hopefully we can do another one,” you smile angelically and bat your eyes hoping that he’ll say yes. “No problem and of course I’ll be back! Maybe one day you can come out to Germany and then we can do a vlog or something there” he suggested moving his arms from around your waist to one over your shoulders.

“Sounds like a plan to me!” you beam praying that he’s being honest about his suggestion. “Do you want to close out the video?” you ask knowing that he’ll say he doesn’t know your outro or what to do. However, as you’ve come to find out about Mr. Munteanu, he can be full of surprises.

“Yea! Ok guys what’ll happen next time in this place? I don’t know, but tune in to find out and remember everyone’s regular is unique so being regular is anything but plain!” he smiles while performing your infamous peace sign and salute as a goodbye to all of your followers. “What? I did it right didn’t I?” he asks while looking at your awestruck face at the fact that he perfectly did your outro. “Yea you did it right, which amazes me but also makes me wonder if we might be hanging out too much. Or you watch too many of my videos” you replied making both of you laugh as you turned off your camera.

Tags: @honeychicana @themyscxiras @lady-olive-oil @crushed-pink-petals if anyone else wants to be tagged if I do this again in the future just let me know! 

[disabled-queen-hc-blog]

autistic!roger being really good at masking that when he tries to stop around the rest of queen its just kind of difficult for him?? because he has hidden his traits for his whole life and anytime he would show them before he'd get shamed. so its just all scary and difficult and he isnt really sure who he is?? and of course in the end the boys help him

Masking is natural for Roger. His second nature. He never has to think about putting on the facade of an allistic. The moment he steps out of his house, it envelops him.The laughing and smiling and eye contact, while forced, aren’t things he has to put too much thought into. When he’s in public, he has to act “normal” and he’s a really good actor.

But actors needed to drop the act eventually. That’s where Roger struggled the most. Taking off the mask at the end of the day or around trusted ones felt nearly impossible. He worried if the years of faking made the mask meld into his skin. Like he’d never be able to take it off, no matter how uncomfortable and painful it was.

Freddie threw his hair over his shoulder, a confident look on his face. “Boys, you’ll never believe it!” he said.

The three other’s leaned in, eye’s wide and curious, a murmuring of “Believe what?” echoing around the group.

“I was recognized today!” He replied, an air of whimsy around him.

The other’s were impressed, asking for more details.

“Yes, yes, it’s true! I was at the grocers and somebody called my name! I had no idea my doctor shopped at the same store as me,” he said seriously before cracking up.

Brian and John did too, slapping their knees and throwing their heads back. Roger didn’t really get the joke or feel the need to laugh, but without thinking, he was matching the intensity of those around him, laughing just as hard and with the same gusto.

It took Roger a second to realize what he was doing, but he felt too awkward to stop. So he laughed and laughed until it was appropriate to stop.

“You really had us going there, Fred,” Brian said out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Reminds me when I thought a fan was approaching me, but it was only my grammar school teacher. Thought the granny wanted an autograph, but all she cared to know was if I could finally spell my name correctly,” Brian, John and Freddie burst into snickers and guffaws, shoving and slapping at each other playfully. 

Roger could see the humor of it yet didn’t feel the need to laugh. So he didn’t. A conscious choice.

On one hand, it felt good to not act. It required so much less energy. On the other, he felt singled out. Maybe rude for not following the flow of the group. A sore thumb. Was the trade off worth it? 

He started to jiggle his leg, a nervous stim of his that many thought was just Roger being his energetic self. The group came too from their giggling fit, Freddie patting Roger’s shoulder.

“Why so glum? Jealous of our fan experiences?” he said, the last part being sarcastic. Roger knew that. Identifying sarcasm was a skill he had to learn by force. 

“Oh, no, I’m not glum,” Roger said, a forced smile tickling at his lips. 

Why was he so afraid to be himself around them? It’s not like they’ve ever been mean to him before. But they’ve never seen the real him either. What if they didn’t like that Roger? What if they preferred his mask?

His leg jiggling grew faster as the thoughts in his head grew more negative. The room could sense it, everyone becoming a big uneasy.

“What’s wrong, Rog? You seem irritated,” Brian said with genuine concern, his head tilting. 

Roger opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out, unsure of what to say. Nothing he could say would make sense or be short and simple. He’d have to explain so much. Was it worth it?

“Are you ill?” Freddie chimed in, trying to feel Roger’s forehead with his palm, Roger ducking out of the way. 

The mask was digging into his skin.

“I’m not sick! I’m- I’m fine. I uh..” his voice trailed off, brain filled with too many things to focus on one train of thought. So Roger got up and did the thing that helped him concentrate.

He jumped.

The obnoxious movements somehow brought peace to him. Like that was the state his body was supposed to be in all the time. 

And although he’d never done this in front of them before and even though they all probably thought he was higher than a kite, he felt really good. 

“Reckon he’s on LSD?” Freddie said, looking at the spectacle in front of him.

“Probably,” John said, eyebrows knitted curiously.

Once he felt calm enough, Roger stopped, turning to face them.

“I’m not on a single substance right now. I’m just being...being Roger. Myself,” he said, still unsure of how to get all of his thoughts out coherently. 

They all stared at him, question marks somehow visible on their foreheads. Roger couldn’t help but to laugh, enjoying how the tables had turned. It was usually Roger who was confused.

“I’m different. Ever since I was born. Special, maybe. But uh, I’ve always known that. So, I hid it from everyone. It wasn’t something I decided either. My brain just...made me act like everyone else. I think to survive...” he started to flap a little.

“Hiding is kinda like acting, y’know? I put on a persona for everyone so nobody thinks I’m weird. It’s taxing, though. Incredibly. And it hurts. My plight for normality wounds me,”

“And I love you guys. I don’t want to lie around you guys anymore. But I’m scared...that you won’t like the real Roger. That you’ll find him to be annoying. Or to be a spaz. But I’m really tired. And it’s too painful. So, I think I’m done pretending. I..have to not care anymore,”

And with that, Roger left the room. He had just poured his heart out and absolutely could not tolerate the idea of being there while the others processed it. He didn’t want to answer questions or be coddled. He just needed to unburden himself. 

The guys left him alone for a minute or two before they all exited the room, hoping to find him and talk.

He wasn’t hard to find, standing by the entrance of the building, playing with some of his hair absentmindedly as he stared out the glass door. 

“Roger, darling, there you are!” Freddie said, herding the others over to him.

Roger would have smiled if he was masking but he didn’t. He just looked at them, fingers fiddling with blond locks. 

“I think we’re all a little confused about what you said, but I do believe the main message is clear. Don’t pretend to be something your not. Not for our sakes. Especially if it hurts you inside,” Freddie said, a soft smile on his face.

“We’d love you no matter what. “Weird” or not. You’re our best mate. You’re our Roger. Nothing could make us think of you as less,” Brian said, resting a hand on Roger’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to pretend anymore,” John said, always so brief but exact with his words. 

Roger looked down at his sparkly shoes, letting what they said digest. He wondered if they really meant it. If they truly believed they could handle Roger in his true form.

There was only one way to find out.

Roger smiled, a genuine smile, looking at how the glitter on his shoes caught the light. 

“Alright, then,” he said quietly before hopping up and down a few times. He loved the feeling of his hair floating up and crashing back down over his ears and cheeks.

“Alrighty,” they echoed, each one pulling Roger into a hug before padding back off into the room to finish their night of gossiping and unwinding.

Much to Roger’s surprise, they never went back on their promises. It was hard at first to always be himself around them, but eventually, those 3 guys started to feel like home. And he never wore his mask at home.

[aftermathdb]

DEATH BATTLE Review: Johnny Cage vs. Captain Falcon

Two punching stars do battle for the title of most famous man of punches.

The Community DEATH BATTLE from DBC 120/121 comes back to see the real deal.

Johnny Cage′s Preview.

Mortal Kombat. A deadly tournament where only the best of the best can hope to survive. From four-armed gladiators seeking konquest, to ninjas seeking vengance, there’s nothing that can surprise you.

Even if one of the fighters is an actor.

Johnny Cage was an actor and a stuntman. Known for his many over the top action films, like Ninja Mime, Citizen Cage, Time Smashers, and one of Boomstick’s personal favorites, Tommy Scissorfists.

But, as with many actors, Johnny’s fame was fleeting. His time in the spotlight was becoming a detriment because he was accused of being a fraud.

So, what better way to prove them wrong than to enter a tournament to the death?

Luckily, Johnny wouldn’t have to do it with a stunt double or anything. He’s mastered all sorts of martial arts, from karate to Bruce Lee’s self-made style of Jeet Kune Do.

These skills would be a good thing, because Rayden was in big trouble. Shao Khan was one win away from taking over the Earth… Because I guess he doesn’t know how much it sucks.

Anyways, Johnny didn’t have to rely on his martial arts alone to win fights. As it turns out, he’s actually descended from an ancient Mediterranean war cult that bred warriors to fight among the gods.

With these powers, Johnny has access to a variety of powers that lets him do all sorts of crazy stuff. He can shoot out balls of green energy to hit opponents from afar, the Shadow Kick can knock them that distance, or he can do a Guile impression with the Eclipse Kick (Speaking of Street Fighter, Wen Vega?).

But since Johnny is still a mortal human being, he needs a move that can get him out of trouble. And he came up with one alright. It’s the Nutcracker, the Berry Buster, the Infertilizer, the Beanbag Barrage, the "Not that kind of blow" Blow, and Boomstick’s personal favorite, the "Help, Doctor! I think they're in my ribcage!" Special! It’s even a fatality!

Of course, Boomstick give it a shot…

(Looks like Wiz learned his lesson from the preview)

Anyways, Johnny‘s got a list of feats to pull from as well.

From being able to chop through diamond, to dodging point-blank automatic gunfire, Johnny isn’t a slouch in the strength or speed department. He’s taken on deadly foes multiple times, and has even defeated the fallen Elder God Shinnok thanks to his powers.

Now, Shinnok can reasonably scale to Rayden. Rayden on his own was able to destroy a large temple.

Now, Buddhist temples tended to shy away from stone, so by using wood and concrete as a base, the estimated destruction comes out to about…

A little over 250 tons of TNT!

But Johnny is far from invincible. He’s been beaten before, and his power does have it’s limits.

But despite his arrogance, Johnny has proven that he’s a capable fighter and a powerful protector. And after having a family, Johnny has shown that he has matured to truly earn the title of Earthrealm’s protector

Incidentally, Shokan do have yamsacks.

Captain Falcon′s Preview.

In the year 2560,the Earth has gone crazy. Aliens are everywhere, space travel is a norm, and the newest sport is all the rage. F-Zero! A deadly sport where racers use anti-gravity technology to race along the tracks of insane courses. One wrong turn can lead to death.

However, the champion of this sport is a mysterious man known as Captain Falcon.

Little is known about Blue Falcon pilot. However, what is known is that he is a respected bounty hunter, one who protects the universe from the forces of evil like the vile Black Shadow.

But in order to take on Black Shadow, Falcon needs a powerful arsenal to get the job done.

From his mighty Raptor Boost, to the Falcon Dive, this is no ordinary racer. Falcon can imbue his pyrokinetic power into a variety of powerful moves.

But the most famous, and powerful is his, say it with me, FALCON PUNCH!

How he does this, is really up to anyone’s guess. However, it’s reasonable to say that the secret lies within the Captain’s Blue Falcon machine.

As it turns out, it’s powered by a thing called a Reactor Might, a fragment of power that was created by the Big Bang. As for why it’s in a racing machine, that’s anyone’s guess.

The Reactor Might can also let Falcon do some other crazy techniques with his power as well. Like the Boost Fire. And thanks to some weird mystic power that the Reactor Might uses, the Captain can call upon it at any time. No matter where he is, Falcon is never without his ride.

Reactor Mights are powerful. One of them destroyed a space station, an explosion that yielded over 6 megatons of TNT!

Of course, Falcon has to go out with a bang. In his final fight with Black Shadow. While it may look like he exploded part of a galaxy, Falcon had destroyed a prior device known as a Dark Matter Reactor. Which has the power to rewind the Big Bang using the six Reactor Mights- It’s a long story.

However, defeating Black Shadow is impressive. Since Shadow has tanked attacks from other powerful beings without even flinching.

He’s defeated multiple robots at once, torn apart a metal cage, seen a sniper miles away, and tanked bazookas.

And while Falcon accomplished his mission, it took more than one man to do so. And we’re not talking about that typical “Power of friendship” thing either. As it turns out, the name of “Captain Falcon” is a legacy title, similar to The Flash, or the Dread Pirate Roberts.

Each new Falcon is hand-picked by the previous one, so long as they can prove that they surpass them. Since Ryu Suzaku is the current one, anything the other Falcons can do, he can also pull off.

Falcon may fall, but the legacy will live on. And he will save people one raceway at a time.

One more time people.

FALCON PUNCH!

The Battle Itself.

Kervin, Luis, Kiid, Zack are using Jerky’s spritework for this animation. Johnny Cage will be voiced by Kieran Flitton and Captain Falcon will be voiced by Kestin Howard. Brandon Yates composes Falcon Uncaged (Soundtrack unavailable as of this review). Chris Kokkinos lead on audio.

The battle starts with Johnny getting footage of the F-Zero track, where they’re getting clips of a movie about Captain Falcon whom which, Johnny will be playing.

Which comes off as a bad thing when you remember that only those that surpass Falcon can be Falcon. So, as far as fight stories go, this one is actually pretty good.

So after a flurry of punches and blows, Johnny takes up the challenge.

The Falcon charges Johnny, but Johnny uses his reflexes to not only dodge, but to also hit Falcon back.

Of course, Falcon recovers and counter attacks.

And he combos (kombos?) Johnny into a Falcon Dive

Johnny, not one to give up so easily, gets back up.

Falcon goes in for a FALCON PUNCH but Johnny…

So, while Captain Falcon recovers from a “Doctor, help! I think they’re in my ribs” special, Johnny takes some time to quip.

Falcon quips back. But the two end up on a F-Zero machine and continue the fight there.

Falcon then opts to use his famous Falcon Knee Of Justice to knock Johnny into the boost pads.

Johnny uses the pads to get back at Falcon. So Falcon then grabs his ride and starts attacking Johnny.

Finishing Blow in

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Ninja Mime needs a new star now.

Verdict + Explanation.

So, Johnny had the better martial arts, and he could even match mach speeds. But Falcon has dealt with tricky opponents before, and his other stats beat out Johnny’s.

Remember that final punch Falcon dealt?- Well, Falcon was able to create energy from the impact. Accounting for the conditions of space, this would mean that Falcon’s best energy output would be over 150 billionn joules of energy.

For reference, that’s like dropping twelve elephants onto Black Shadow, but is also thousands of times greater than Johnny’s best feat.

Now, Johnny might have defeated Shinnok, but that’s not exactly on the same level as Falcon.

Now you might be thinking “Wait, shouldn’t Johnny’s green glow help him out?”- Well, yes and no. Johnny’s powers are, well, powerful, but they’re kinda limited. While it’s a great power to have in the realm of Mortal Kombat, where deities are basically everywhere, it’s kinda restricted to Elder Gods. Even allowing for it to extend to other gods wouldn’t really help, since 1: Falcon isn’t a god, and 2: Johnny has been killed by non-deities before

So, Johnny can tank blows from god-beings, but that’s mainly because his powers let him do so. A bullet to the head or heart will still kill him unless it’s a god bullet.

The winner is Captain Falcon.

Overall impression.

Overall, this battle is really fun to both watch and look into. It takes two characters that are well known for the hype they generate and brings them in to see how well they stack up.

To be honest, I wasn’t expecting Johnny to match Falcon’s speed stats at all. It was pretty surprising. Plus, seeing Falcon in action after mainly being associated with Smash Bros is a real treat, I hope that the F-Zero fans got some enjoyment out  of the episode… Bummer that the DEATH BATTLE Curse couldn’t kick in for Falcon, but them’s the breaks.

Great fight, interesting research, and awesome music.

8.7/10. Will watch again.

Next Time…

Oh, an excuse to rewatch Avatar that doesn’t involve my constantly pushing the idea of Zuko vs. Dinobot (The Beast Wars guy (It’s two warriors known for their redemption arcs. Let me have this))

And a reason to at least take a look int FMA.

Is there a fight that you want me to review? - Send an ask/request, and I’ll look into it!

Do you want to read my fanfic based around DEATH BATTLE itself? click here!

Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you next time for…

Elemental Masters.

[fandomfanficandmore]

Disappearing Dad (Tom Holland)

Pairing: Tom Holland x Aria (Sudden Family Series)

Warnings: cuteness overload with dad!Tom, Infinity War spoilers (oops?)

_________________

Aria sat in the living room with her seven-year-old daughter Evie, watching as Peter Quill imitated Thor. It wasn’t often that she had a chance to spend time with her, as she was always drowning in work, but when her father was gone, Aria tried to work from home as much as possible so she had at least one parent around.

Many people gave Aria weird looks as she walked her daughter to class, wondering why a 21-year-old would have a seven-year-old daughter. Some thought it was her sister or niece, but that wasn’t the case. Well, not exactly. Technically, Aria was Evie’s aunt. Evie was born to her older sister, Hannah when Aria was 14 and Hannah was 21. At 16, Aria met Tom, a 19-year-old actor, and they began dating. At 17, Aria sat with her sister and her 3-year-old niece as her sister received the news that she had a bad heart. It wasn't common in people Hannah’s age and doctors were going to do everything they could, including having her go through a heart transplant. They thought she would be okay. A few weeks after, however, Hannah had a heart attack and passed away in the hospital as she awaited her transplant, her sister by her side.

Though she never admitted it, Aria was terrified for life after her sister passed. She was close with her parents, yes, but she was closer with her sister and the thought of living a life without her was rough.

A few days after Hannah’s passing, the family lawyer presented the family with her will, something she had drawn up when she was given the news. In the will, she handed custody of her daughter Evie to Aria and her boyfriend, as she wanted her to stay in the family instead of being sent into foster care.

At 18 and 21, Aria and Tom were new parents to a 4-year-old and had no idea how to navigate the world in that capacity. Tom was becoming a huge star, as he was cast as Peter Parker in the newest installment of Spider-Man and Aria was just getting out of school and deciding what to do with her life.

The first few weeks with Evie was the hardest on them. They stayed in her sister’s apartment, hoping to make her transition easier, but that wasn’t really the case. She was a scared and confused little girl, not knowing where her mommy had disappeared to. During the day she’d sit in front of their door, waiting for her mom to walk through. At night, she’d crawl into Aria and Tom’s bed in the guest room and begin asking questions that neither of them could answer.

When they began packing up the apartment, Evie finally sensed that something had changed. She watched as her new parents and her mamie and pop pop began putting her belongings in boxes. It took a few days, but soon the apartment was empty and Evie was being taken to her new life.

The transition to her new home was easier than Tom and Aria had expected. Evie quickly fell into their pattern, and soon they were acting as if it had always been that way.

Evie let out a squeal, breaking Aria out of her thoughts. Looking towards the tv, Aria saw her now fiance in his spidey suit making a quip about Footloose. Evie clapped her hands, exclaiming “Look, mommy! Look!”

“I know, Evie! Isn’t that so cool?” Aria smiled, wrapping her arm around her daughter, pulling her close.

The first time Evie called Aria mommy, it took her by surprise. She was six, and Aria had taken her to get some new clothes for school. They were walking through the nearly empty mall when she felt a small tug on her purse strap. “What is it, honey?” Aria glanced down at the young girl with a small smile.

“Look! It’s a unicorn!” She squealed, letting go of Aria’s bag and running over to a store window where a small, purple unicorn was displayed. Aria laughed quietly, following after her. “Can we get it, mommy?” Aria froze for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Sure, Evie.”

Later that night, after putting the young girl to bed, Aria facetimed Tom and cried. “She called me mommy today, Tom.”

“What?” He shouted, making her shush him with a small, tearful laugh. “What happened, love?”

“We were at the mall to get her some new clothes and she saw this stuffed unicorn and she ran to it and was like ‘Can we get it, mommy?’ and it took everything in me not to cry,” She sniffled, a few happy tears rolling down her face.

“You got her the stuffy, didn’t you?” He smiled.

“His name is magic.” Aria corrected him with a quiet laugh.

“Ar-”

“I had to get it, Tommy. She called me mom.”

For Evie’s seventh birthday, her parents took her to Disneyland to celebrate. She got to go on all of her favorite rides and have dinner with the princesses- thanks to her father’s pull with Disney- but that day wasn’t just special for her. Tom enlisted his daughter to help him propose to her mother, something Evie was extremely excited to do. During the fireworks, Evie was to get her mom’s attention and that’s when it would happen. Simple, yet perfect.

Tom had gotten them a special viewing spot in the front of the castle, a ways away from the crowd, and made sure that Aria’s best friend would be there to capture it all and celebrate afterward.

“Mommy-” Evie tugged on her mom’s arm a few moments before the show had ended.

“Yes, hon-” She turned towards her daughter and stopped when she saw him on one knee, an open ring box in his hand.

“Marry me?” He shouted over the music. As if on cue, the finale of the fireworks sent dozens of bright lights into the air as she nodded.

When the show ended, Aria picked up her daughter, poking her nose. “Did you help him plan this?” Evie nodded. “Thank you.” Aria kissed her cheek before leaning over and placing a soft kiss on her now fiance’s lips.

“Ewie!” Evie squealed, making her parents laugh.

Though she had begun calling Aria mom, Tom had yet to hear the d-word from Evie. He was discouraged, as many would be, fearing that his daughter didn’t like him or that he was gone too much for her to consider him her father. Instead, she called him Tommy, a nickname Aria had given him when they had begun dating what seemed like a lifetime ago.

When he had left, over two months prior, Aria and Evie took him to the airport.

“Bye, love.” He told his now fiance, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“Ewie!” Evie exclaimed, making her parents laugh, something that happened often in their household. Tom moved to crouch in front of his daughter.

“I’ll be back before you know it, darling.” He said to her, watching as her eyes began to water. Although this had happened before, he still wasn’t used to seeing her cry as he left. She wrapped her small arms around him, sniffling. He dropped his backpack and embraced her, rubbing her back to soothe her like he did when he tucked her in. “I love you, Evie.” A moment later, his flight was called and he reluctantly pulled away from his daughter, kissing his fiance one last time.

“I love you, Ar.”

“I love you more, Tommy.”

When Aria once again broke out of her daze, she was greeted by Thanos getting the mind stone from Vision. She watched as her daughter reacted to the disappearance of the characters before watching as her father turned to dust. Evie let out a loud gasp.

“Mommy, where’d he go?” She shouted, making Aria laugh quietly.

“I’m not sure, sweetie.” A moment later, Aria heard the click of the front door. She moved away from her daughter and made her way to the front foyer, where her fiance stood with his bags. Aria shushed him, his face twisting in confusion. “Evie? I think I found him!” The couple listened as she padded into the entryway, a smile on her face.

“Daddy! I thought you disappeared!” Evie yelled, running up to him and hugging his legs. A few tears fell from his eye as he looked at Aria, who mouthed ‘Infinity War’ to him. He nodded before picking up his daughter, holding her on his hip. “I was so scared! I thought the big purple guy got you!” She rambled, making him laugh quietly.

“Nope, daddy’s safe.” He smiled, placing a soft kiss on her head.

“Good. You need to kick the purple guy’s butt-”

“Language, Evie.” Aria corrected with a laugh.

“Sorry, mommy.” She replied, making her parents laugh. “I missed you, daddy.”

“I missed you too, Evie.” He placed another kiss on her head before setting her down and watching her run back to the living room. Tom made his way over to his fiance, wrapping his arms around her waist and placing a kiss on her lips. “Tell me again where you got that stuffed unicorn.”

_________________

Okay this is the cutest Tom fic so far (that you’ve seen, more to come- a bit late but 🤷🏻‍♀️) Can I please just marry Tom???

[mirjahcreative]

My contribution to the Mystic Messenger Winterzine: MC x Zen fanfic, for all audiences, 2,809 words

The entire Winterzine and more info on it is available here, on the Mystic Messenger Discord server's Tumblr @mm-discord.

MC Under the Mistletoe

The delicious, rich, spicy scent of gingerbread being baked wafted in Zen’s apartment. MC had volunteered to bake gingerbread cookies for the RFA Christmas party with the actor, and here they were, making them now. She loved to see the dough smooth under her rolling pin. It was so much fun to carefully place and press the cookie-cutter on the dough sheet, in order to get as many shapes as possible from the first sheet. They made stars, different animals, spruce trees, and hearts - placing the cookies on the trays to wait for their turn in the oven.

For the past hour or so, the favorite Christmas carols picked by both MC and Zen had been playing on the speakers as the pile of the gingerbread shapes grew ever higher. Finally, MC put away the baking tools, sighing contently as the last batch of tasty treats stood there ready for oven-baking. Finishing up the clean-up of the kitchen counter, she failed to notice the tall albino sneak up right next to her. When a pair of strong arms snaked around her, MC jumped, squealing out loud - not startled but tickled! She bent over in a fit of giggles, trying to squirm away from the fingers aimed at her sides. The gorgeous dork loved to hear her laughing, so he told her all the time. Thus, she was constantly the target of his stealthy attacks of hugs, tickles, and kisses.

“Truce! - ahahaha - Hyun!!! Truce!!! ” “But babe~, I just caught you in my arms…” “The gingerbread - hahaha - trays are in danger!!!” “Alright, if you’re sure~” The man squeezed his girlfriend into a tight embrace instead. He wanted to try her gingerbread cookies for the first time, too - so he didn’t want to risk any of the trays getting knocked off of the table and kitchen counter. Zen danced them around the kitchen and stopped at the doorway - just long enough to smooch MC. His boyish grin was as charming as ever as he glanced at the little mistletoe he had insisted on placing on the doorframe even though it wasn't a Korean tradition. Zen enjoyed the sentiment, and being the cuddle-bug he was, that kissing tradition fit him well.

“I’ll go for my run now, just had to get my fill of your giggles first. I’ll be about an hour, and my phone is with me - so call me if anything happens, okay, cutie?” Zen made MC promise the same thing every time he left the house, and it had become more their routine than a real concern of his. Smiling warmly at her love, the woman watched the long, silvery white rattail disappear from sight as the front door closed behind the man. Now MC was home alone and the sole baker responsible for not burning the goodies. She checked the oven temperature, pushed the first batch of baking in, and set the timer to go off when the cookies would be ready.

She curled up under a soft blanket in a corner of the sofa, her laptop on her knees. After testing the game only because Zen starred in the musical version of the story, MC was now totally hooked on Tendelion. The girl continued the gameplay from her last save point. Chuckling to herself MC, shook her head at a thought - imagining that the ultimate cat-allergic man had played the part of the human form of a black cat!

Level-up after level-up in different attributes for the main character, interaction after interaction earning hearts from the different love interests, MC was immersed in the gameplay. At some point, she realized she heard shuffling by the door and greeted the man brightly - eyes never leaving the screen, though. MC didn’t even notice the absence of any sort of a reply to her greeting… She was in a super exciting situation in the game. The story could now go either way, as she was about to end up on one of the guys’ routes - but whose?

Deciding to take a break - and stretch the anticipation that much longer - MC made a save and got up from the couch. She stretched languidly, a delighted little moan escaping her. Sauntering to the kitchen, she pinched the bridge of her nose. Hm, my eyes are a bit tired, did I really play that long? But the timer hasn’t rung yet, has it, she mused to herself. Her lips dry and mouth parched, MC reached for a glass from the cupboard. Before she could fill it with the cold water she craved, warm hands covered her eyes.

Without a word, a firm chest pressed to MC’s back - the feel of it familiar and pleasant to her. For a split-second MC wondered if the spices used in the baking had messed up her sense of smell, due to her not recognizing Zen’s scent. That thought got pushed aside, though, as the man walked her forward, still flush against her. A confused little giggle and heat rising to her face - radiating unmistakably to his palms - revealed that the surprise was a success. They came to a halt and the man spun her around - one hand remaining over her eyes to keep her blinded. She felt another large palm cupping her cheek and a light puff of air as his breath hit her lips, sending shivers down her spine. Just a heartbeat later, the soft touch of his kiss made the woman go weak in the knees and wobble a bit.

A chuckle, very different to Zen’s, made MC’s eyes shoot open. Yellowy-gold eyes were right before hers - instead of the rare crimson she expected. This caused the woman to flinch back from the kiss and let out a screech of horror. Despite her reaction, the stranger stood too close to her, holding her gaze calmly - a gentle smile pulling on his lips. The young, wide-shouldered man wore a red-and-black jacket and a black beanie was pulled over his unruly raven hair. There was an ornate silver pendant hanging from a thin strap loosely tied around his neck, guiding her eyes down to his collarbones, of which his loose shirt collar showed a glimpse. MC felt like she recognized the pendant - and the man. But that couldn’t be, right… The man crossed his arms over his chest and studied her face, an enigmatic, feline-like smile on his features.

“Who the hell are you?! What are you doing here? How did you get in!?! Who gave you the permission to KISS ME?!?!? Where--” “My bad for startling you, Foodgiver - or, should I say, cookie-giver. You’re the best!” “What did you call me just now!?” “Relax, MC, it’s alright. Also, the mistletoe, it’s right above us. You know I’d never harm ya.” “What? What do you mean ‘I know?’ I’ve never...” “Haha! So you’d think~! You’ve become happy, haven’t you?” “Yes, of course! But what does that have to…”

---BLEEEP-BLEEEP-BLEEEP---

An annoying beeping sound distracted MC, taking her attention but for a moment - her gaze only briefly snapping to the oven. The guy had disappeared, as if into thin air. Touching her chapped lips lightly with her fingertips, she found them still warm from the kiss. The woman blinked a dozen times, frozen in place. She concluded that a handsome stranger popping by just to kiss her  - and her not kicking his ass for it - had to have been a dream. One really lifelike dream... She shook her head and padded silently in her neon-colored knit socks to save the baking. As soon as she opened the oven door, the delicious smell of baked gingerbread cookies filled the room - making MC’s mouth water. After setting the baked batch aside to cool down, pushing a new tray full of raw goods into the oven, and leaving the bright red oven mitts on the countertop, it was time for MC to reset the timer and go back to her game.

No longer in the mood for grinding the stats of Tendelion, she switched over to the next game. One she had heard of from one of the guests at her first RFA party: Nameless. It was also an otome-type of game, but with different game logic - more story-based than the previous one. MC hadn’t played it before, and she’d managed to avoid any accidental spoilers online. Such interesting characters were written into the game! There was an intense scene going on and as it ended with an alarming voice speaking to the main character, MC was all but biting her nails. The story is super engaging! I can’t believe this game isn’t more widely known... The only downside to such addictive gameplay was that the woman lost the track of time completely. Luckily, she knew that and, thus, used the timer.

After a few more trays full of cookies had baked ready, MC heard faint singing from the bathroom and the shower sloshing. She smiled to herself. The actor had obviously returned from his run while she’d been totally focused in the game world, her headphones on tight. On one hand MC was itching to tell Zen about her wild dream, but on the other...she hesitated somewhat. The man was still sometimes insecure about her love toward him and had been known to get jealous pretty easily. It was still just a dream, and besides, starring someone MC had never seen before in her life. Although, he did remind her of a role character Zen had played back before they had met… Perhaps her love and adoration had made the character come alive in her dreams? She had told him before how she’d almost developed a crush on some of his role characters.

Still slightly dazed by the intense game moment she shook her head once more to her inner musings and lazily dragged herself up from the couch. Checking on her baking she wondered if the romance games just played tricks on her subconscious. The woman had just taken the last hot tray of gingerbread cookies out of the oven and was carefully setting it aside. Before she could finish the task, though, a hot pair of arms circled her midriff again and soft humming tickled her ear. Noticing a different scent to the usual made MC briefly think that maybe Zen had switched his body wash again. The thought was soon replaced with the worry over her baking for the RFA. “Oh, you’re back at it, mister?! Just...Please, don’t tickle me this time…I might drop these.” “I would never play such a nasty trick on you, my honey~” yet another unfamiliar voice whispered in MC’s ear.

The tray fell from her hands - luckily only a few centimeters onto the kitchen counter - making a loud noise, nonetheless. MC flailed fervently to free herself from the hold of a second stranger in the same day. Surprising even herself, the resourceful female managed to force the male backwards and away from the stove. However, the man maneuvered the two of them as though leading her in a dance, so that she didn’t bump into the walls or furniture. He brought them to a full stop, turned her around in his arms, and dropped a tender kiss on her mouth.

Finally freed from his hold, MC stared unblinking at the uniquely gorgeous guy - who was standing almost as if striking a pose for her. His short, black hair with a trendy cut was pulled back behind his left ear - revealing an earring - and his bangs fell over his right eye. The man wore an exquisite, long, white jacket with an unusual design. MC gawked at him long enough to notice that his bare, shapely chest and flat stomach were partly showing, due to the cut of the garment. The tall, toned man held her gaze, mirth sparkling in his eyes that were locked on hers. An alluring smile adorned his face, making her suddenly feel hot in the presence of this new stranger. Nevertheless, this is totally inappropriate!!!

“Who are you, mister? And how the hell did you get in?! Is there a sign on the door saying ‘damsel in no distress, but come and grab anyway’?! I don’t understand any of this!” “Don’t understand, MC? Which part, my honey?” “The part where a freaking stranger waltzes in, embraces and kisses me - without my consent, may I add!” “I am here only to make good use of that mistletoe, my flower…And to thank my owner for believing in me~”

This hunk even has the audacity to wink at me!!! MC didn’t know if she was more baffled, irked, or embarrassed - or if those feelings were aimed toward the behavior of this guy or her own emotions…Why does my heart do backflips - just like when Hyun teases me!? It was such a puzzling reaction to a man she had never met before. “What in the world does that mean?! Owner?!” “Just that you own my heart - my full, intact, sensitive heart - only beating for you, my honey~.” MC sharply sucked in a lungful of air, to really reprimand this - God forgive her - astonishingly beautiful man. The next heartbeat, though, MC felt incredibly sleepy, her eyes fluttering shut almost as if her eyelids had weighed a ton. As she opened her mouth to speak, she felt something familiar, soft, and sweet peck her lips.

***

The weather had been excellent, not too many fans kept Zen from running his laps, and it was just an all-round perfect day for him! He returned home to the delicious smell of baked goods - and just had to risk MC’s wrath by tasting one gingerbread cookie. Finding the woman blushing in her sleep on the sofa - her mouth slightly agape - was too adorable an addition to Zen’s good mood...He just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to wake his girlfriend with a gingerbread-flavored kiss.

MC hardly even stirred when he pecked her lips. “Babe~” She started to register the familiar voice and touch as Zen spoke softly, his warm palm on her shoulder. “Are you awake yet, my flower~?” The man continued cooing at her, gently stroking her arm. His white rattail flowed over his shoulder, the tips of his hair swiping her cheek. “Wake up, foodgiver~” She scrunched up her nose, finally moving a little to push at the distracting sensation disturbing her sleep.

Mumbling quietly MC objected to being shaken from her sleepy state. “Hey, sit up for me, my honey~” The man continued to coax his love into returning to him from the land of dreams and a blissful smile bloomed on MC’s face as she finally managed to pry her eyes open. “Hey, Hyun…Did you have a good jog?” she muttered, still sleepy. A whiff of the fresh outdoors combined with his wonderful scent was home to her. The extra coziness thanks to the spices of the season didn’t help with waking her, either...

“I did! And the day gets better and better with your baking, Jagi~! Do you even know how you hold my heart~?” MC laughed along with Zen in the warmth of their small home, as they chatted about nothing and everything, nibbling on some cookies she’d set aside for the two of them. Eventually she worked up the courage to tell Zen all about her weird mistletoe dreams. After the tale was over, the man chuckled as he studied MC’s face - a tender, loving smile on his own. To her surprise, Zen didn't get miffed nor jealous of the imaginary guys in her subconscious.

Instead, he just asked one puzzling question - winking at her: “Tell me, how were their kisses compared to mine~?” This left MC blinking and utterly flustered. She couldn't lie that they would've been bad at it or even worse than Zen. Swallowing her words one after another, she opened and closed her mouth. Suddenly, something she hadn’t really noticed earlier dawned on her: the men in her dreams had called her ‘foodgiver’ and ‘my honey’. Why did he think to call me with those endearments - today of all days, and ones he’s never used before? Zen simply grinned radiantly, watching the expressions on MC’s face change.

Finally, the man pulled her into his arms in a tight, warm embrace - silencing her altogether. “Don’t think about it too much, babe~ Just know that I will love you forever, my cookie-giver, my flower - in every lifetime and each dimension.” The whispered words sent shivers down MC’s spine - but at the same time, they warmed her heart and calmed her down. She no longer mistook the encounters under the mistletoe for dreams. The woman sighed, wondering why she wasn’t nervous about that realization, either. MC trusted Zen with her life. She simply melted into his safe and secure hold, squeezing him back. She was so content right here with him. “I love you, too, Hyun.”

2018-2020 © MirjaH

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[thatsnotperiod-blog]

television. pilot. bbc’s jonathan strange and mr norrell is my favorite show i’ve never seen because its whole thing is making an interesting concept (magic) boring by piling on a regency setting, academia, and early 19th century british nationalism. 

Starts out with a raven. It seems hungry! Some guy is putting water and some other dumb crap (is that a broken pen?) in a bowl while his servants watch. He looks like a nerd. The magic didn’t work. But is he in want of a wife? 

He kind of bumbles out to a side street, and, TITLE. 

Sidestreet bumbler bumbles on past a bookstore and is observed in a sinister way by a man who looks really, really similar to him, but is actually a totally separate man. BBC original series are perilous like this. The sinister man is just getting a book so it’s fine though. Ah, Book People. 

Then a narrator tells me that, “Some years ago there was in York a society of magicians. They met on the third Wednesday of every month, and read each other long, dull papers upon the history of English magic.” The narrator is a dumb idea but just the phrase “dull papers” has my heart pounding. This narration is cut with Our Hero bumbling up to one such meeting, attended by the Most British-Looking Men Available, many in wigs. 

Our Hero is revealed to be an anxious-voiced dilettante called Mr Segundus and he wants to know, “Why is magic no longer done in England?” and his question is greeted with derision, which tells me a couple things, in order 1. that magic may be done elsewhere but certainly is not in France, because if the French were doing magic, Horatio Nelson would be doing it too 2. that magic is probably alive and well in Scotland 3. Mr Segundus must not be in want of a wife as clearly he is not in possession of a good fortune and Mrs Bennet will have to turn her sights elsewhere! 

Mr Segundus gets cornered outside by a man who introduces himself as Honeyfoot (lol) and it’s Brian Pettifer, one of the Several Actors of Britain! He was Couthon in that 2009 French Revolution movie, Mr Raggles in Vanity Fair, Wheeler in To the Ends of the Earth, Poupart (not Poptart) in the Musketeers, and many other things (Growler in Bleak House, Boycott in Garrow’s Law)! Good to see you, Brian Pettifer!

Anyway Honeyfoot (lol) is like, Mr Segundus I agree with you, people should be doing magic. But apparently the books about how to do it are super rare -- even in York! They hit up a book store, and seems like Segundus tried to reserve some magic books but the asshole store owner sold them already. Segundus, visibly deflated, asks if the guy has anything on “the nature of clouds” which, jesus, being a gigantic nerd in the 19th century is so fucking bleak if clouds is your fallback. OMG it was a ruse! While the guy is off looking for cloud books, Segundus hops over the counter and snatches the cash sheet to “find the devil who keeps swiping my books!”

Someone named Norrell, they discover, is the devil in question. They hop in a carriage to go find him. They talk magic on the way there, and Segundus says he bought a nonfunctional spell from a street magician who threw in a free prophecy: “Magic will be returned to England by two magicians.” 

Honeyfoot (lol) is like, “We are two magicians. John Segundus and Mr Honeyfoot (lol)” which is the same construction as the title of the show but ... not ... the right guys. Turns out the street magician set expectations already and Segundus shoots him down. RIP, John Segundus & Mr Honeyfoot, the Show That Never Was. 

They arrive at Mr Norrell’s pad and are admitted by the Sinister Bookstore Guy from earlier. Mr Norrell is a grouchy alpha nerd who has read Segundus’s publications but wants to throw out some criticism anyway. Segundus and Honeyfoot geek sweetly over Norrell’s library. Segundus repeats his question again and the camera zooms hard on Mr Norrell, who says, “It is a wrong question, sir. Magic is not ended in England. I myself am quite a tolerable practical magician.”

! O H S H I T !

Back at the York Society of Extremely British Men, this assertion is shouted down as “absolute tripe.” They decide that they’ll write to Norrell and ask him to show them some magic or shut up. 

York Minster. Nighttime. The Society approaches the front steps, observing that it’s the hour and place appointed but Norrell has clearly chickened out. 

“Mr Norrell concedes defeat!” says their beefiest guy. 

But then Sinister Bookstore guy (his name is Childermass, and I guess he’s Norrell’s servant) appears saying no, Norrell doesn’t concede shit, he’ll just be working from home today, and also he wants everybody to sign a contract promising they will no longer call themselves magicians if he succeeds at magic. Everybody signs, except Segundus, who is like “magic is my life u can’t take it.” Bleak.

Meanwhile Mr Norrell is doing a typical work-from-home where he’s watching Real Housewives of New Jersey in his PJs. Just kidding, he’s waving his hands over a bowl of water. How do people in this show keep themselves from accidentally doing magic while shaving?

The Society wanders into York Minster. Childermass, building his character, finds stuff to lean against. Bells chime.

And then, MAGIC! Some of the carvings at the top of the clustered columns in the nave are talking, and it is real creepy because they’re talking about a murder they witnessed, until the camera gets up there and they look like Statler and Waldorf. The York Society are all freaking out. 

Cut to the rood screen, which of course features statues of all the kings of England and they’re bickering. OK. There’s a Richard III joke which I tepidly laughed at. A carving of a woman with a harp is singing, and a statue of a former archbishop (as York Minster is, in fact, actually a cathedral) yells at Beefy in Latin.

Then the magic is over. Norrell, at home, collapses back in his chair, because a WFH day also involves a lot of early booze. The York Society is invigorated, then sad because they all signed the We’re Not Magicians paper. 

The next day, the York Society of No Longer Magicians is taking down all their signs (lol) while Childermass, building his character, leans back in their chairs and smokes. Segundus says he’s just happy that “magic is restored to England” but then, Segundus didn’t sign shit. 

“Do you think,” Segundus asks Childermass, “Mr Norrell would be offended if I wrote to the London newspapers of this?”

Childermass is like, yes he would be offended, but do it anyway: “I rather think my master has hidden his talent long enough. It’s time for him to take his place, and London is where I will take him.” 

OK then Mr. World’s Worst Press Secretary. 

Meanwhile! Elsewhere! A man rides a horse while Charlotte Riley (!) attends church. Horse Guy is bugging Charlotte Riley from the window, and she hilariously ignores him, but meets him on the way out. 

He’s listing the ways he has reformed himself for her, not playing cards, not flirting with anybody in Brighton (but the Bennets might be there!) not drinking as much, etc. His name is Jonathan, hers is Arabella, and apparently they are in love. All Arabella wants from him is for him to find “a way to occupy [his] time” instead of “perpetual holiday.” 

He gets on one knee, missing the point and saying that he sees he must act. 

“Jonathan,” she says. “Do not act. Think.”

The camera zooms to him to imply that this has not occurred before. 

*** IT’S DAD TIME ***

Jonathan is apparently being prevented from having any occupation by his Mean Old Dad, who tortures the servants and harangues his son for being useless. He sounds like the Mean Old Dad from Moulin Rouge a little.

But it gets worse! “You have proven yourself a failure at everything you have done,” says Mean Old Dad, “and you will have no assistance finding an occupation while I am yet living.”

Yikes! Later. 

Jonathan -- It’s Jonathan Strange, ok, it’s him, the other guy in the show -- is getting a drink with Arabella’s brother and probably venting about his Mean Old Dad. And, yep, there it is: “My father delights in torturing me, as he tortures his servants ... as he tortured my mother.” Wow, that’s the same word I used like two paragraphs up!

“All I’ve ever truly wished for was your sister,” says Strange, clearly thinking that is a sweet thing to say instead of a gross one. Arabrother leaves, and Strange empties a flask into his cup. wellllllllp.

Morning. Hangover. Someone is rapping at the chamber door. Strange’s servants are here to get him because his Mean Old Dad is locked in his office. Turns out he’s mean old dead!

Funeral. Strange triumphant. He wonders how long he should wait before asking Arabella to marry him. 

London! Norrell and Childermass in a carriage, reading Norrell’s press clips. He is causing Quite a Stir, which apparently is his intention, or Childermass’s. Norrell is pissed off that London is loud and expensive and that his WSJ crosshatch portrait isn’t flattering. OK, guy. They pass by a street magician who is talking about “the Raven King” and then gives Norrell the world’s weirdest stare. Norrell bitches that street magicians give the practice of magic an “such an appalling name” and Childermass does a stage mom thing where he tells Norrell that he is the only one who has any real talent and the future of his art depends on him: “This is what you have worked for. This is your great opportunity. If all goes well here, when folk think of a magician...”

“...They will think of myself,” says Norrell, with chilling self-reverence. Childermass gives him a little more pep talk and sends him out of the carriage. What -- what kind of dynamic did I just watch? 

New scene. Parliament. Somebody’s yelling, and -- is that Samuel West?! -- and Samuel West (!) is looking bored. Nobody told me Samuel West was in this show! Wow! Samuel West. 

Norrell is wandering boringly through the halls. 

Turns out Samuel West is the target of the parliamentary harangue (which is, from what I understand of Actual Parliament, just punching the clock for these guys) and has the decency to look a little ashamed of it. His name in the show is Sir Walter Pole, not Samuel West. He stands to rebut, and does so with all the sneering, grandstanding, and rhetorical posturing that constitute the parliamentary equivalent of “slow Monday.”

He tosses a zinger to the opposition leader on his way out, and Norrell tries to lobby him in the, uh, lobby. But Sir Walter just scoots into his office, and one of his servants shuts the door in Norrell’s face. The servant says, he knows Norrell has an appointment, but can they move the meeting to Chez Sir Walter instead of the office? 

Scene change. Chez Sir Walter. There’s a lady there who tries to snob Norrell, and it works until she hits on an academic subject. They discuss “fairy servants” and Norrell explains that fairies are trouble-with-a-capital-t-and-that-rhymes-with-p-and-that-stands-for-pool. 

The servant/scheduler from earlier is handing out tea, and we learn that his name is Stephen. 

Norrell states his intention: to use magic to help in the war. Sir Walter is totally snowed by this, and thinks maybe magic could be used to clean up uniforms or like, entertain people maybe? He Doesn’t Get It. Norrell, clearly the IT guy of his day, heaves a sigh.

There’s a young woman coughing pathetically and curled up on a chaise longue in the background, and Sir Walter introduces her as his fiancée Emma, like it’s totally normal to be this sick in somebody’s living room. Norrell is very surprisingly sweet to her, and she says she’s pretty into magic. Norrell suggests hot tea with lemon and nutmeg for her cough. Sir Walter kicks him out with a lecture: “Magic is not respectable. The government cannot meddle in such things.” OK.

“How’d it go?” says Childermass, back in the carriage.

“Very well,” says Norrell, on the verge of tears. I’m not letting go of the stage mom analogy because it seems to get more and more on the nose. Norrell notices they’re not going home, and Childermass says nope, they’re going Lady Godstone’s house: “It’s a soiree.”

“A party?” says Norrell, looking devastated. “I wish to go home and read a book.”

Norrell at a party. It’s like those MBTI specialized hells, and this is INTJ hell. It’s crowded, people are laughing, and Norrell doesn’t know anyone, but they’re all gossiping about him. Norrell escapes INTJ Hell and shuts himself in the host’s library, or INTJ Heaven. Ah, dichotomy. 

After a minute of Alone Time with Books, Norrell is interrupted by two Party People. Party Guy 1 is harassing the Party Guy 2, apparently the host, about how Norrell was promised, but no magic seems to have been did. “That gentleman is reading a book!” he says, of Norrell, to demonstrate how boring and amagical the party is. 

Norrell interrupts them and kind of says hi I’m the guy you’re talking about. They both recover awkwardly. Party Guy 2 introduces himself as Drawlight, and Party Guy 1 as Lascelles. Drawlight tries to drag Norrell out to introduce him to people and Norrell slips out the back. 

He’s met at outside by like the street magician from earlier, who says some creepy stuff to him: “You think yourself a very fine fellow, hoarding books like a miser hoards gold. But I have a book you won’t find in your library, or any other.”

Norrell tries to get back inside, but the doors have locked behind him. 

“It’s written by the Raven King,” says the creepy guy. Norrell makes the face I make when someone tells me they saw a spider in their shower five years ago, which is to say absolute living nightmare horror. “And it tells me all about you.”

Creepy Guy introduces himself as Vinculus, magician of Threadneedle Street, so abruptly that Norrell almost pees. He goes on that Norrell’s coming was foretold, and while he’s doing this he’s leaning in and menacing him in like, kind of an overboard way? 

Norrell scoots away and, feeling safer, snottily shouts that magic can’t tell the future and only total hacks make prophecies. He undermines this by continually yelling for Childermass. 

Vinculus keeps going: Two magicians will appear in England, one will be Fearfulness and one will be Arrogance. Some stuff will happen, both will fail, some other stuff. Norrell is stuck on the two magicians thing. Vinculus wanders off, and Norrell shouts for Childermass again. He looks really scared! 

Back Chez Norrell, Childermass is trying to calm Norrell down, and asks what Vinculus wanted. Norrell hysterics that he mentioned a book, “and if he does have a book, I want it, and then I want to go home to Yorkshire.” 

Childermass plays hardball: “Do you wish to make a success of this, or do you not?”

New Day. Childermass watches Vinculus sell spells on the street. Norrell meets Drawlight and Lascelles in his house and, surprise surprise, they want a favor, to be the guys who get credit for discovering him. Norrell is refusing, he doesn’t want to attend parties or do dumb stuff, he wants to go home.

Meanwhile, Vinculus and Childermass are talking brass tacks about whether Norrell will get Vinculus’s book. Childermass chooses an odd method of intimidation by like, threateningly whipping out some tarot cards to tell Vinculus’s fortune. I mean, if that’s worked before... Vinculus tries to one-up him by telling Norrell’s fortune. Is this like, a tarot duel? Vinculus has turned all the cards to kings, and says it means that “the Raven King is coming.” Childermass is pissed that his cards are all messed up now. I know!

Chez Norrell. On their way out, Drawlight and Lascelles gleefully mention that Sir Walter’s fiancée is dead. Well, she was pretty sick. Norrell starts to mutter about how hard it is to bring someone back from the dead. Drawlight transparently eggs him on. 

“I will need to send for more books,” says Norrell. He’s so into this plan! 

New scene. Jonathan Strange finds some peasants doing something poor, and rides up to interfere. They explain that they’ve found a magician sleeping under the hedge. What? Sure. It’s Vinculus. 

Vinculus wakes up, stares right at Jonathan, and gives him the two magicians, Fear and Arrogance, speech while stumbling around. Jonathan Strange looks very confused. He’s also holding a large stick for reasons that are obscure to me. Vinculus tells Strange that he is destined to become a great magician. Strange pokes him with his stick and tells him to choose someone else, because it sounds like being a magician sucks. Still, he buys two spells from Vinculus, probably because a nice patrician power move is to condescendingly buy someone’s wares. 

That night at dinner, Strange is telling Arabella about his big plan for the farm he’s inherited, and she laughs at him because the plan is bad.

“Very well, I’m going to study magic,” he says. Arabella and her brother are shocked. They all look at the spells and Strange decides to like, do one, right there at the table. It’s a spell to discover what your enemy is doing presently. It works, and Strange sees a stranger, apparently his enemy, in a mirror. 

“Good magicians conjure up fairy spirits and long-dead kings,” says Strange. “I appear to have summoned the spirit of a banker.” It’s Mr Norrell. Ha!

London, Norrell. He arrives at Sir Walter’s house with a huge book. Sir Walter gives him access to the room where Poor Dead Emma is like, dead. Norrell shuts them out, alone with the corpse, and opens his book, looking terrified. 

There’s silence, and something rattles, and a man with Ziggy Stardust hair and huge eyebrows appears. He’s also got a synthed voice and a weird jacket that I can’t pause on to figure out. He is clearly a fairy, and Norrell clearly summoned him, and he acknowledges that Norrell is destined to return magic to England. He does some back and forth about “what do I get if I resurrect this woman.” He wants to help Norrell and get credit, Norrell wants him to do this one quick necromancy and never be summoned again. The fairy does the old “maybe I will take my business to your competitor” and Norrell freaks out: “There is no other magician.”

“Of course there is another magician,” says the fairy. “He is your dearest friend in all the world.”

“I have no friends,” says Norrell. I laugh. He asks the fairy again if he can do the necromancy. 

The fairy says, if he gets half of Emma’s life, it’s on. Norrell looks sad, but then he asks if they should sign something. The fairy is like no, I’ll just take something of Emma’s. The shadow of his hand stretches over her. Yikes!

Cut to Drawlight and Lascelles hanging out downstairs. They hear a woman scream. Double yikes! Everybody runs upstairs and Emma is fighting her way out of her funeral shroud. Triple yikes! Her mother points out that half of her little finger on her left hand is missing. Quadruple yikes! She brushes it off, looking out of it, and asks Sir Walter to dance with her. 

Norrell zombie-walks out to his carriage. Quintuple yikes!

Until next time, Favorite Show!

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/? - A Visitor Part 2/? - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/? - Cutscene

Natasha and Steve come in for a very rough landing, and then try to figure out exactly where it is they’ve wound up.

For the first split second it felt as if Steve was thrown.  Then instead, he was sharply pulled back by something tied around his waist.  He flew through the air to slam into a wall, and then dropped bonelessly to a slanted and semi-soft floor, where he lay panting for a moment.

Before he even opened his eyes, Steve could tell that something was wrong.  He’d had far worse impacts than this before.  He’d jumped from moving trains and fallen ten stories to land on the marble floor of the Triskelion lobby – and in each case, he’d been able to hop to his feet almost immediately and continue fighting.  Now, after what couldn’t have been more than twenty or thirty feet, his head was spinning and he had to catch his breath.  It felt as if all the life had been drained out of him. What had Loki done?

When his ears stopped ringing, he realized people were applauding.

Steve was lying face-down on the floor, which was covered with white padding decorated with rows of black x’s and triangles. Behind him it curved up into the wall he’d hit, as if the whole thing were part of a single big cylinder, but instead of going all the way around it stopped about twelve feet up, and overhead was a warehouse ceiling, all girders and banks of brilliant lights.  On Steve’s left was a man he did not know – he was about thirty, with dark skin and short dreadlocks, and wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt with the NASA logo on it.  A cord of some sort extended from the back of his shirt to a hole in the padded wall, and this was reeling and unreeling as he got to his feet.

On Steve’s right was Natasha, wearing a turquoise blue jumpsuit with a number of embroidered patches on each side of the front zipper.  She was still on her hands and knees, but all her muscles were coiled to react immediately if necessary, and her eyes were darting back and forth as she looked around.

In front of them, the padded curve ended five or six feet away, and beyond that were two large film cameras aimed at them, more dazzlingly bright lights and silky white photographic reflectors, and a whole row of strangers in street clothes. All of these were grinning and most of them still clapping, and one of the camera operators was pumping his arm in the air.

The man on Steve’s left grabbed his arm to help him up.  “You okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted.

A man stepped forward out of the crowd.  He was in his late 60’s or early 70’s, with dusty-blond hair and a beard going gray, and a deep crease in between his eyebrows.  He was clapping, too, and though it was slowly and with less enthusiasm than the rest, the smile on his face was genuine.

“Much better!” he said, in a British accent.  “Much better!”

“I told you!” the man in the NASA shirt beamed and clapped Steve on the shoulder.  “The secret is don’t tense up.”

The bearded man came up and shook Steve’s hand, then the black man’s, then Natasha’s.  “Wonderful,” he said.  “Now that we’ve got that, we can leave the rest for the stunt people.  Let’s break for lunch.  Maddy!”  He looked over his shoulder at a woman with several tattoos decorating her shaved head. “Do you have those revisions?”

Maddy held up a manila folder.

“Good.”  The bearded man nodded.  “Let’s look over those, and I’d like to see everybody back in wardrobe by two o’clock. Now all of you, get out of here.”

The lights started going out, leaving Steve, who’d been looking right into them, seeing spots.  Some of the strangers left the room immediately.  Others began taking equipment apart, and a woman came up to unhook the lines attached to Steve’s, Natasha’s, and the other man’s clothing.  Steve still didn’t feel right.  He was all sweaty and weak.  It was almost like being that asthmatic kid in Brooklyn again, only it wasn’t, because he was still tall, could still tell the difference between red and green, could still breathe deeply.  What was wrong with him?

He looked at Nat.  She looked back, not bothering to hide the fact that she was as confused as he was.  That was even more worrying.  Things were bad when even Natasha didn’t know what was going on.

The bearded man had walked away now, and multiple conversations had begun.  Counting on those and the sound of moving cameras and lights to cover his words, Steve said, “Natasha?”

“Yeah?” Nat asked.  Her jumpsuit, he noticed, had the name Залётина – Zalyotina – embroidered on the pocket.  Several of the badges also had Russian text on them, around motifs of rockets and space stations.

“What happened?” asked Steve.

There was a brief pause in which Nat looked around again.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.

“We’re definitely not in Kansas anymore,” Steve observed.

“We were never in Kansas to begin with,” she replied.

Steve blinked.  “Have you really not seen The Wizard of Oz?”  After she’d made him watch all those ridiculous sci-fi movies from the eighties?

“Of course I’ve seen The Wizard of Oz,” said Nat.  “I’m being a jerk about it because you said that before I could think of something more obscure.”

The name Zalyotina had given Steve a moment of doubt whether this woman was indeed Natasha – that comment washed it away.  “Okay,” he said.  “So… we’re on a movie set.”  That much he could tell.  Steve had been on movie sets before.

“I know we’re on a movie set,” said Nat.  “I’m surprised you haven’t started punching everyone and running away yet.”

“I can’t punch anybody right now,” said Steve, “and I definitely can’t run.  I feel terrible.  Like I haven’t slept in weeks.”  How long had it been since he’d felt this bad?  Certainly not since he’d awakened in SHIELD’s fake hotel room.

“Good,” said Nat.  “Try to keep a lid on the punch everybody instinct.  These people aren’t a threat to us.”

A hand grabbed Steve’s arm.  A word was also spoken, but Steve didn’t hear what it was, because he drowned it out with his own holler of surprise.  He spun around and dropped into a fighting stance – his reflexes were slower than normal, but it was good to know they still worked.  Nat jumped, as well, but it was not an attacker.  It was the black man in the NASA shirt, who seemed as startled by Steve’s reaction as Steve had been by his touch.  He held up his hands and took a couple of steps back.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Steve straightened up again, cautiously.  His heart felt like it was going to pound its way right through his ribs.  He couldn’t remember the last time it had beat like that.  The SHIELD medics had always said he had the lowest resting heart rate of any human being.  “I’m fine,” he managed.

“Yeah.”  Nat, too, was taking deep breaths.  “Fine.”

“Great,” said the other man.  “Come on, let’s eat, huh?”

“Eat.”  Steve nodded. Maybe food would help him feel better. “Good idea.”

Most of the original group had left the room by now and new people were coming in, setting things up to replace the ones the previous occupants had taken down.  Among them were three with the same haircuts and clothing as Steve, Nat, and their as-yet-unidentified co-star – a black man with short dreadlocks, wearing a NASA shirt – a woman with a blonde bob, in a blue jumpsuit – and a tall man with brown hair and beard stubble, in a UC Berkeley sweatshirt.  They were waiting for their counterparts to leave the set.

“Sorry,” said Steve.

Nat took his arm.  “Come on, guys,” she said brightly.  “I’m starved.”

They headed down a short hallway and out a door into the blinding sunlight.  Even Steve’s eyes were slow to adjust, but once he could stop squinting he found himself in a parking lot outside a big white building with an arched roof, which looked like it could be an aircraft hangar but instead had the words Studio 6 painted on the side in large red letters. A few palm trees were visible above the roof, growing on the other side of the lot.  There were four metal steps down to the parking lot, where a row of huge RV trailers were parked, but rather than returning to those, the cast and crew had gathered around a food truck that was serving Vietnamese submarine sandwiches.  People were unfolding lawn chairs and passing around sodas and bottled water.  Beyond the parking lot was a highway, with a green sign directing people to a turnoff that led to the Los Angeles city centre.

The tattooed woman named Maddy was handing out packets of pages.  She pulled a set out of her folder, and handed them to the man in the NASA shirt.

“Glover,” she said.

“Thank you.”  He accepted it, and opened it for a look as he went to the food truck for his sandwich.

“Johansson.”  Maddy gave some pages to Nat.

Nat accepted them without comment.  

“Evans.”  The third set was for Steve.

“Thanks,” said Steve.  He looked down at the cover – it bore the title Breathless and a scene and revision number, and a line indicating that this copy belonged to somebody named either Chris Evans or Matt Rankin.  When he opened it, he found Rankin’s lines highlighted.  Other characters, including Zalyotina, appeared to be Russian and American astronauts.

“Oh, and Donny,” Maddy added, talking to the man in the NASA shirt, “your friend at real-life NASA called.  Hyperspace geometry girl.”

Donny immediately lowered his script pages and pulled his phone out of his back pocket.  “You mean Kevin?” he asked.  “Thanks, I’ll call her back right away.”

Steve was starting to come up with a theory.  They knew the tesseract was able to open wormholes, moving objects and people around in space at will.  Whatever Loki had done, it had apparently cause Steve and Natasha to switch places with the actors making this movie – actors who looked creepily just like them, it seemed, since nobody had noticed the substitution.  Thor and Loki were probably around here somewhere, too, just not in the immediate vicinity.  What about the tesseract itself?  Was it here, or still in the museum in Norway?

He looked at Natasha, who was pretending to read her script.  She caught his eye, and nodded.  They had to get out of here and get back to their mission, but they had to do it carefully.  If they were on American soil, they could not afford to identify themselves – that would land them in prison.

“Okay,” Nat announced, “there’s been a big mistake here.”

People looked up at her.  Steve frowned… what was she going to do?  She couldn’t possibly just tell everybody who they really were, could she?

“What kind of mistake?” asked the bearded man, who Steve decided must be the director of the film.

“This.”  Nat showed him the script.  “This is not Russian.”

“It’s not?”  He frowned.  “We had a guy double-check it…”

“Well, was his name Google Translate?” Nat asked. “Because I guess yeah, it’s technically Russian, but nobody talks like this!”

The director looked over at Steve, who considered a couple of options and then just shrugged.  Nat knew what she was doing – he would just let her handle it.

“Why didn’t you bring that up at the meeting yesterday?” the director asked her.

“It slipped my mind,” said Nat.  “My shovel wasn’t big enough for all the bullshit.”

  “Does it really matter?” he tried.  “They’ll dub the movie before showing it in Russia, anyway.”

“What about Russian people living in the US?” Nat asked, arms folded across her chest.  “I guess it’s okay if we sound like idiots to them.”

The director sighed heavily.  “All right, I’ll find somebody else to look at it.  In the mean time…” he turned to Maddy.  “I guess we need to do something else this afternoon. See what the second unit’s up to. I’ve… I’ve gotta call the producer.” He started taking back the pages his assistant had handed out, pausing to look Steve over.  “You got any Russian?” he asked.

Steve tried to remember what little he knew.  “Pivo, pozhaluysta,” he offered. That was the first phrase Nat had taught him.  It meant one beer, please.

It took a moment, but the director chuckled.  “At least somebody around here has a sense of humour,” he observed, and glanced back at Nat with a sigh.  “Mat Damon said she was easy to work with,” he muttered.

Steve didn’t know who Matt Damon was, although the name made him think of Asgard for some reason.  “Well, that's just his opinion, isn't it?” asked Steve.

“Yeah.”  The bearded man sighed.  He motioned for Maddy to follow them, and they headed back up the steps into the studio.

Nat took two sandwiches from the food cart.  She handed one to Steve, and then declared grandly, “I will be in my trailer.”

Donny frowned.  “You don’t have a trailer.  You live here,” he said.

Nat took Steve’s arm.  “Then I’ll be in his trailer,” she decided, and stalked off, dragging him behind her.

[forgedobsidian]

Not Alone

A MHA fanfiction. One-shot.

AO3

Summary: Toshinori finds himself in very helpful company.

Trigger warnings for: blood, pain

Toshinori huffed in annoyance as the bandage slipped away from his fingers. Instead of sticking obligingly to his skin, it fell down and landed in a lump on the table. He glared at it, then reached out with his left hand.

“Lets try this one more time.” He took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and started to wind the cloth around his head.

He would have been using both hands, but his right arm was still in a cast, and would be for several more weeks. It had only been ten days since Kamino Ward, and while his more minor injuries had healed, the gash on his forehead had yet to clear up. He’d been lucky to not lose his right hand.

The bandage slipped from his fingers and dangled by his nose, held in place by his thumb. Toshinori took a deep breath, and contemplated chucking the bandage in the garbage and just enduring Recovery Girl’s wrath when she found out he hadn’t been keeping the wound covered.

“Here, let me help.”

He looked up, the bandage still dangling by his nose. Kayama was standing in the doorway, arms crossed as she leaned against the wall.

Toshinori looked at the table. “Yes, please,” he mumbled.

Kayama grinned and took the chair opposite him, reaching out and taking the bandage from his grip. “This goes over your forehead, right?”

“Yeah.”

Her hands were gentle as they moved around his head, carefully patting his hair down for the wrapping to rest on. “You could have asked Recovery Girl for help, instead of trying to do it yourself in the teacher’s lounge.”

He resisted the urge to nod. “I know. I just didn’t want to bother her. She’s seen enough of me lately.” He tried to give a convincing smile. “I thought I’d give her a break.”

Kayama didn’t respond, focused on clipping the bandage to itself to hold it in place. She pointed at the wrappings on his left hand. “Do those need changed?”

“Hm? Oh, yes.” Toshinori held out his arm, watching as Kayama undid the clasps and efficiently unwrapped his hand.

The bandage fell away, and Toshinori gave his arm a critical look. The minor bruises and scrapes had healed, and while there were still several stitches holding his skin together, it looked better than it had the last time Toshinori had seen it.

Kayama took his hand and looked it over critically, her thumbs gently running over his knuckles. “These are looking better, All Might. Less cracked. Still some scars, though.”

He shrugged. “That’s fine.”

Kayama looked at him and raised her brow. “Is it still stiff?”

“A little. It’s better, though.”

She nodded and fished a fresh bandage out of a nearby medkit. Her hands were gentle as she wound the cloth around his fingers.

His hand started to shake. The peripheral nerve damage . . . His thumb hit the back of Kayama’s hand, and only her quick reflexes kept the bandage wrap from falling to the ground.

“I-I’m sorry, I -” Toshinori swallowed. “I can’t . . . can’t control that.”

She nodded and finished wrapping his hand, tucking the end of the bandage into itself before stretching out the elastic clasps.

Toshinori stared at his hand, the faint tremors still clear even under the thick padding. Something stuck in his throat.

Kayama leaned forward and hugged him, her arms loose in case he wanted to pull away. “It’s okay, All Might.”

Toshinori stiffened at her touch, then sagged against her shoulder. Her hand came up and cradled the back of his head, and she started to sway back and forth.

“You know, none of this is your fault.” Her voice was quiet and gentle.

Toshinori sighed and buried his face in the curve of her neck. “Thanks for saying so.”

She clicked her tongue and tightened her hold. Her free hand felt the tense muscle stretched between his shoulders. Turning her head, she took in the darker-than-usual circles under his eyes, and the deepness of the wrinkles around his mouth. “When was the last time you slept?”

He shrugged.

Kayama sighed. “Come with me.” She gently pulled away from him and walked to the faculty couch, sitting down next to one armrest and patting the cushion beside her.

He sat down next to her slowly, and she could hear the pop and crackle of his bad hip as the joint turned in it’s socket. He nearly fell against the back of the couch, and had to pull himself forward to lean on his knees.

Kayama shook her head and grabbed the blanket that acted as an overthrow on the back of the couch. Then she grabbed a pillow and put it in her lap.

“What are you doing?”

“You, Mister All Might, are going to take a nap. It’ll be at least three hours long, and dreamless, and deep. You’ll feel better after.” She stretched the blanket across his shoulders.

“You don’t have to do that.”

She shrugged. “I want to. Now lay down.”

He was still looking at her, and his confusion must have been evident on his face.

Kayama sighed and reached out, her hand resting on the side of his face. “You really don’t get it, do you.” Her thumb massaged the sharp corners of his cheekbone. “We all care about you, and nothing’s going to change that.”

He looked into her eyes, and for a moment Kayama felt like flinching. Then he blinked, and sagged, and fell forward. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled the rest of him onto the couch, pulling the blanket over his feet.

Toshinori gingerly placed his head on the pillow, relaxing when Kayama started to rub his shoulder.

“Get some sleep now, All Might.”

Toshinori snuggled his face into the blanket. “M’ name’s Toshinori.”

Kayama smiled. “Get some sleep, Toshinori.” She buried her fingers in his hair and started to gently undo the knots and snarls. “I’ll chastise you about hair care later.”

He mumbled, already falling asleep. Kayama’s hands were gentle and warm, and the faint lavender smell of her quirk was easing the tension in his back.

Kayama grinned as she felt Toshinori relax. She rubbed the back of his neck, easing the knot at the base of his skull. His breathing was deepening and growing even. There was still a hitch in his chest, a moment where something would catch and rattle. The smile fell from her face and she brushed his bangs away from his nose.

It was hard to ignore his thinness, as close as he was. Even through the thick pillow she could feel the angular planes of his face, and his swollen knuckles contrasted with his bone-thin fingers where they clutched the blanket. The arch of his shoulder and hip were jagged mountains on either side of a ribbed valley, and she could feel the faint quiver in his chest as he slept.

“Oh, Toshinori.” Kayama brushed his hair behind his ear. “Of course we care.” She leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his temple. “You silly man.”

Toshinori groaned and let his hand fall off the couch.

The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and he could hear the wind thrashing the trees outside the window. Rain fell in sheets, the gutters were overflowing, and everything about Toshinori ached.

His injury was the worst, as usual. His ribcage throbbed, and he felt the warp and absence of his ribs more than usual. His right arm ached, and he doubted he could manage more than two steps before his left hip either gave way or locked up.

Damn pressure changes.

So here he was, in the commons of the dorm, completely laid out on the couch. A bottle of painkillers rested on the coffee table between him and the television, next to a half-empty glass of water.

Thankfully, the students were on an overnight field trip to the coast. Aizawa had joined up with the pro-hero Selkie, and they were running the students through underwater rescue drills.

Yamada had stayed behind, nursing a cold. He could hear the pro-hero in the background, shuffling and sniffing. For a while he had disappeared, and Toshinori hadn’t had the gumption to get up and look for him.

Then, there was a loud bang as a door slammed open. “Yo, guess what?”

“What, Mic?” Toshinori wasn’t in the mood for noise, and he tried to bury his face into the armrest of the couch.

“The dryers in the basement are huge.”

Something big and warm fell on his back. Almost immediately some of the tension fell from his shoulders, and he looked up.

Yamada was grinning, holding a pile of blankets as he crouched in front of Toshinori’s face. “And they get really warm!”

Toshinori grinned. “That’s the best discovery since forever, Mic.” Some of the cramping and aching from his joints eased, and he felt himself sink further into the couch.

“I know, right?” Yamada spread out several blankets and helped Toshinori tuck them around his torso and feet. Toshinori snuggled his arms under a thick quilt and pulled it up to his chin.

Yamada grinned and wiggled his way under Toshinori’s legs, before stretching out and propping his feet up on the coffee table. “You just chill, yeah? I have some shows to catch up on.” He wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders and grabbed the remote, pausing to sneeze into his elbow.

“Mmhm. No problem.” Toshinori yawned and felt his jaw pop.

He didn’t fall asleep, but the white noise of the rain faded as Mic’s soap operas blasted their dramas over the commons. It was hard to not pay attention. While the plots were a bit overdramatic, Toshinori could appreciate the effort the actors put into their characters.

“Wait. They’re married? But why is she acting like she doesn’t even know the guy?”

Mic gave an emotional sigh. “She has amnesia. Tragic accident involving an iguana and an out-of-control roomba.”

“Ah. I see.”

Toshinori leaned back in his chair and tried to work a knot out of his neck.

The day was pleasantly warm, prompting the students and the majority of the teachers to relocate from their usual classrooms to the lawns outside. Toshinori, stuck in a never-ending cycle of being behind on his paperwork, chose to stay inside and grade the latest quiz he’d given to his class.

There was the familiar rattle of a pill bottle, and Toshinori looked up, his hand still on the back of his neck.

Aizawa was standing beside him, chin and mouth tucked into his scarves. There was a bottle of painkillers pinched in his fingers. “You’re giving me a headache just by looking at you.”

“Ah, thank you, Eraserhead, but I’ve already taken . . . wait.”

“You’re behind on your meds.” Aizawa gave the bottle a deliberate shake.

Toshinori felt his cheeks heat up. “My apologies.” He reached out and took the pills. “I try to keep on top of things like that, usually.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m not the one who has to pay for your lack of time awareness.” Aizawa shoved his hands in his pockets, grabbed something else, and threw it onto Toshinori’s desk. It was an applesauce packet. Before Toshinori could say anything, the younger teacher spun on his heel and walked out of the office.

Toshinori took the packet of food, looking it over before suddenly realizing that he hadn’t eaten for several hours. While he couldn’t feel hungry, technically, he was able to feel the faint shakiness that tended to come before a drop in his already low energy levels.

He shook his head, a bashful grin on his face. He took the pain medication after several mouthfuls of applesauce.

He’d brushed against the edge of the counter and gone down like a felled tree.

He was curled on the floor, arms twitching as pain throbbed from his side. Blood and congestion splattered on the floor when he coughed, and blood smeared across the side of his face as he shivered. Something was caught in his throat, and he could dimly hear a high-pitched wheezing that he was sure was coming from him.

The room was spinning around him and he couldn’t breathe.

Then there were steadying arms around his chest, and he was pulled from the floor. The room shifted, and then there was something holding his head back, opening his airway. Toshinori clenched his jaw, trying to stop the bile and clots of half-digested blood from coming up.

“No, don’t hold it in. Cough. Get it out.” Aizawa’s voice was calm and controlled.

He let his jaw go slack, and he could feel the lukewarm blood dribble from the corners of his mouth and down his neck. The room still looks like an oil-slick was poured over his eyes, and the ringing in his ears isn’t going away.

Arms wrap around his shoulders, and for a moment he feels small and vulnerable.

“Cough again.”

Toshinori shook his head, and he felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes. “C-can’t. Hurts.”

“I know, but you need to clear your throat.”

Toshinori whined, a shiver going down his back. Everything felt cold. He gathered what control of himself he had, and gave a pathetic, wet cough. Something shifted in his chest, and the pain eased.

“Good. Rest.”

He closed his eyes and breathed, focusing on the in-and-out of his sternum.

“Oh, Toshinori. What happened?” A gentle hand rested on his thigh.

“He hit the counter,” Aizawa said, adjusting his hold on Toshinori.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Kayama whispered, rubbing his leg. “I’m sorry.”

Toshinori could hear her settle down beside his knees, her hand a warm feeling through his sweatpants. He tried to raise his hand, even twitch his fingers, but his strength was gone.

“Yo! What’s happen - holy crap! All Might, dude, you okay?!” Yamada’s voice grated on Toshinori’s ears, and he felt himself wince.

“Quiet, Hizashi.” Aizawa’s voice is curt.

Kayama’s voice is gentle. “He walked into the corner.”

“Oh, geeze, bud.” Yamada plopped himself down at Aizawa’s side, his voice significantly quieter. He reached out to give Toshinori’s shoulder a gentle grip. “Easy there, big guy. Just relax. You’re good.”

Toshinori cracked open his eyes. Aizawa had pulled his torso up off the ground and slid his arms around his chest, leaning Toshinori’s head back on his shoulder to open his airway. Toshinori twitched, feeling the half-dried blood on his face crack and powder.

“I - hng, I’m -”

“Shut up.” Aizawa shot him a knowing look. “Just rest. It’s not your fault.”

Kayama sighed and rubbed soothing circles around his kneecap. Yamada took Toshinori’s hand and settled back against the wall.

Aizawa shifted his hold, letting Toshinori sag ever so slightly to the side. “Just breathe, Yagi. We’ve got you.”

Author’s Note: Shout-out to the ever-lovely @pentarokenta!! They gave me the inspiration to write this ^^

Thanks for reading!!