#and of course he gets a mullet right out of the gate

[luxshine]

Ok. So we start Stranger Things season 3

I write this as I watch, so basically, it's real time watching with me only in just one post.

And we start of course with the most idiotic team of scientists that has ever lived on a tv series. Because SERIOUSLY, what were they expecting, opening the door again? Carebears? Rainbow Brite? No, of course not. Death and destruction, that's it.

Also, I hope the general dies painfully. He has that look of a main villain that I usually hate so yeah, death. Pleas. Soon.

And OH! They're russians. So they're ANOTHER team of very stupid scientists, not OUR stupid scientists. Of course. The Eighties and the cold war and the Red Scare. So... HOW did they get a gate?

(And no, seriously, Scientists in fiction are always the stupidest smartest people around. I'd be more annoyed by it if it wasn't because in RL we have Scientists making cloned mammoth meatballs so... yeah)

Mike is still an idiot I see. But those kids are not JUST one year older. No way.

Also, someone get Hooper a parenting manual and a hobby. And get El some standarts. Mike is way below her level.

Good to see Lucas and Max are still going strong. And that Max is now part of the party.

AWWW... Steve's coworker knows the kids as "His Children". And he lets them in to Rated B movies that they SHOULD NOT be watching. SO sweet. And Will is SO in love with Mike it's painful. Really, Mike, Eleven, GET some standarts. There are much, much better boys than Mike out there.

Also, I had seen Steve in the Scoops Ahoy's outfit before (hard not to in Tumblr) but NOTHING prepared me to the actual thing in action. He looks SO ADORABLE.

I see the series is now cribbing Resident Evil 2's homework.

I like Robin. She takes none of Steve's crap.

SIgh... Will should NOT be seeing a zombie movie. And hey, the Mind Flayer is back. This is not going to be a good summer for poor Will.

Will, get some taste. Seriously, Mike is trash.

Oh, I see Nancy fixed her polycule issue with the DUMB solution of just having one boyfriend. Well, that leaves Steve free to be a good Single DAd. And good to see that Super Bob is still remembered.

Nancy is still the most selfish girlfriend in the universe I see. Jonathan should also get some taste. I can see that in general the Wheelers are trash people.

AWW, Dustin was away. I really hope his friends didn't forget him because if they did? I am writing the whole group off. YEs, even Max. You don't diss my fave boy.

WHO THE FUCK gave Dustin THAT Monkey Cymball toy? Like, seriously... WHO?! Because you know what toy is? That toy is the cover to Stephen King's Skeleton Crew's short story collection first edition and frigging scary as hell. I can't see monkeys with cymbals thanks to that short story and THAT one is... like the worst of them all.

And AWWW, they just wanted to surprise him. I love them and their friendship so much, even if Mike's an idiot.

WHO THE HELL gave Billy a job as a lifesaver? That man is NOT equipped to care for anyone except maybe his mullet. And he needs to die. Like now.

And it is REALLY creepy to see all the moms lusting after him. ESPECIALLY mrs. Wheeler. She like totally needs to get a life. I want all the Wheelers to move. The only one I don't hate is Mr. Wheeler and that's because he's a non entity.

Hooper's actor was getting ready for Red Guardian, right? His weight is fluctuating weirdly. Also, seriously, get Hopper a parenting manual, and while I agree that Mike is a terrible boyfriend, but he was a lot more sensible in seasons 1 and 2 than in this episode. Sure, he is now a single parent of a teenager, but he didn't use to be this... Alpha male toxic.

Ok, If Nancy goes postal on her coworkers, I won't blame her.

Mike is an idiot. I think we have established that.

DUSTIN HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!! OMG, Someone tell Steve that his child is growing up.

I agree with Steve. The hat ruins the hair.

And I love Robin.

Ok. Joyce giving parenting lessons to Hooper should be sweet but... it is a bit cringy. Since... uhm. yeah. HARD second hand embarrassment for me here. Also, she has no daughters so... it's weird.

Plus... he TALKED to Eleven last season. Heart to heart talks. Sure, sometimes they ended up in screaming bouts, but they talked. HE knew how to do that!

Like, seriously, how hard would it be to say "I don't want you kissing with tongue under my roof, El, you still need to get a bit more socialized before jumping on a relationship!"? Hopper could do that.

And I see that the Joyce/Hopper ship is sailing.

Mike is an idiot. Will needs a better crush, and Dustin needs better friends. I mean, Lucas and Max ALSO are in a relationship, but they are not just dumping everyone just to go and suck face.

And we're still cribbing Resident Evil's notes. Oh, and Vermin, from Marvel. Anyone remembers Vermin? VERY gross villain. Also Parasite Eve. Cool.

Someone kill Bill, PLEASE.

Seriously, we lost BOB so we could see one of the GROSSEST examples of male gaze and bad flirting with a woman who could be his own mother?! And Is MARRIED! And said NO.

Oooh, trouble in paradise for Max and Lucas.

No, seriously... Dustin needs better friends. He just came back from a month away, is VERY excited about his new girlfriend and how many things he learned over said month. And none of them believe him or want to hear about that and... it's sad. Really sad.

He should've gone to Steve. Steve would've listened, be happy about him and give him a ride to the hill so he wouldn't have needed to take five hours to get there.

BOB!

I miss Bob.

Ok, seriously, the way the situation of Eleven with Mike around Hooper is being presented really doesn't work for me. He is a father, an adult, and he KNOWS what Mike is thinking because he WAS an hormonal teenager too. And he was the one who let El go to the dance last year. So this whole... I sleep listening to their radio romantic songs is... WEIRD.

ANY parent would go "hey, you can't have your door closed when your boyfriend is here" and it would be OK. Yes, Kiss and all, but open door because you guys are not ready for being parents yourself, you idiots.

Sigh. Hooper. I like your plan of killing Mike. But you are the adult, and the responsible one. So don't kill him. But yes. Mike SHOULD remember that he is dating the Sheriff's DAUGHTER.

Poor Dustin.

At least Will DOES want to hang around. But then, Will is the other single kid in the group and the one who will NOT get a girlfriend.

And of course now Dustin gets RUSSIAN radio. Kid, you need to stay with Steve. When you're with Steve you don't get in that much trouble. Or at least you have someone with a bat ready to defend you.

I NEED a reunion of Steve and Dustin. I mean, yes, the Russians opening the gate again is important and creepy and they shouldn't be doing it, but I REALLY need more Steve and LESS Bill and his creepy relationship with a married woman.

MRs. Wheeler... I don't like you. But seriously, going out with Billy is a mistake. BIG ONE. Don't do it.

Oh, hey. He FINALLY is going to Die. So happy about that. Pity that takes out the chance for Mrs. Wheeler to do the right thing, but I've wanting to see Billy die since, well, since he was mean to Steve. And his kids. So yeah, bye bye billy, you survived like 5 chapters too long for me.

Also, great horror reference at the end.

Strong beginning season 3. Even if you are mistreating my Dustin. Do better, or I will be sending Steve with a bat to your offices.

[luminnara]

Billy Hargrove x addams!reader

Billy Hargrove meeting and developing a crush on you, who he just happened to run into while on vacation. Not HIS vacation, mind you—he’s still living in Hawkins, Indiana. The shit with the upside down is over. That vecna guy is gone for good. Everybody else thinks it was just some weird freak earthquake disaster that tore the town apart, and life in Hawkins moves on and goes back to being just as boring and insufferable as he remembers.

So WHY are you there? WHY is that your idea of a good vacation destination? Because of all the weird shit that happened, of course! You’re a young adult, the same age as Billy, and your parents let you venture off on your own for a little road trip. You visit all sorts of ghost towns and haunted houses, stop to go werewolf hunting in the swamps and even run into some vampires on the coast before you double back and head to Hawkins. Besides a few memorials commemorating those who died in the earthquake, you don’t find much—which is weird, considering everything you heard about the town having some connection with another dimension—and you’re about to leave for home before you run into a guy.

He’s not your usual type. In fact, compared to your past boyfriends, he sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s big and broad shouldered, with a curly mullet and bright blue eyes the likes or which you’ve never seen before. But something about him makes you stop and talk to him outside the diner, and you end up getting along SO much better than you expected.

You’re not his usual type, either. He’s usually more into hustler models, not weird goths who wear sunglasses at night and can’t stop talking about disembodied hands and whatever the fuck a Cousin Itt is. But hey, he can’t deny that you’re hot—and disarming, and easy to talk to, and actually really fucking funny.

He manages to score a date with you before you leave town. And then another, and another, because you’ve already called home and told your parents that you were running a bit behind, but you have a surprise for them. Because once you get to know him and you dig your way past his macho facade, Billy is actually really, really sweet, and you think you might bring him home to meet the family.

Plus, on your first date, he threatened to a kill a guy who looked at you for a second too long. The idea of Billy dueling someone to the death is just so romantic, the sort of thing your father would do for your mother, and the more he threatens people, the more you fall in love.

When you tell him you really do have to go back home, he’s devastated. He doesn’t want to go back to life in hawkins before you. He doesn’t want to have to deal with his shitty dad. He’s really distraught, actually, because you were such a good escape from his home life, and he can’t bear to see you leave…so of course he agrees to come with you. He jumps at the opportunity to skip town. He’s got a bag packed and he’s picking you up from the motel later that night with his camaro. Is it a little crazy to go out of state with somebody he just met? Yeah, but it sure beats sticking around Hawkins.

You’re ecstatic. You know your parents will be a little disappointed that he doesn’t have two heads and he doesn’t howl at the moon, but you don’t care. You think he’ll manage to fit in just fine after some adjusting.

Then again, you’re a lot more used to your family then he is.

It’s raining as the car pulls up to the front gate. Billy’s jaw drops as he sees the house. It’s massive and stately, but from what he can see as the gates swing open on their own, it’s run down. It doesn’t look like anyone’s lived there in years, but you’re absolutely positive that it’s the right place. You think it’s cute that he keeps asking, and you take all of his comments about it looking like a dump (respectfully) as compliments.

He parks in front of the door and gets out first, already preparing for his nice “hello mr. And Mrs. so and so, I’m a perfectly respectable gentleman” routine. He gets the passenger door for you, taking your hand as he helps you out, and you’re giggling and biting your lip because you know the more old fashioned he acts the better the impression on your parents.

“Leave the bags in the car, don’t worry about them,” you tell him as you climb the steps. “Lurch will grab them.”

“…Lurch?” He asks as you ring the doorbell.

He hears a foghorn. Not a bell.

Okay, Billy. He tells himself. So they’re weirdos. Not a big deal. You’ve got this under control.

When the door swings open and he’s faced with the tallest man he has ever seen in his life, he begins to doubt that he’s got this.

“Welcome home,” the butler says slowly, in a voice that seems to be reverberating through Billy’s very bones.

“I missed you so much, Lurch, you have no idea!” You exclaim, surging forward to wrap your arms around Lurch’s waist.

Billy stares as Lurch smiles and pats your head. He figures this is about as weird as things will get. Clearly your parents have a lot of money, to afford a house like that and keep a butler around. They’re just a little eccentric, probably.

He soon realizes that that’s a severe understatement.

“Aha! There you are!”

Billy’s eyes are wide as something sharp whizzes past his head, narrowly missing him. It turns out to be a dart, and it hits the doorframe just beside Lurch. The thrower is, of course, your father—a short man in a pinstripe suit, a cigar clenched between his teeth and an absolutely wild look in his eyes that has Billy automatically fearing for his life.

“Father!” You run forward to meet him, hugging him tightly.

“Welcome home, welcome home!“ Gomez laughs, dropping his handful of remaining darts as he returns the hug. Then, he spots Billy, and he’s suddenly shaking his hand with a bone crushing grip and insisting that the two of you come into the parlor because Mamá is nearly finished preparing dinner and everyone had better eat quickly so they can catch the remainder of the thunder storm.

You’re ecstatic, and Billy is utterly shocked, because a house full of spiderwebs and exotic taxidermy is not something he’s experienced before. He’s pretty sure there’s a real mummy in the corner. He’s also pretty sure the bear rug roared at him.

“Oh, darling, look at you!” A woman in an extremely tight black dress says as she knits. Billy thinks he can hear disappointment in her voice when she adds “only five fingers on each hand…”

And at the mention of hand, one of them pops out of a box on a nearby table, and Billy nearly jumps out of his skin.

And that’s still not the strangest thing he’ll see in your house, by far. Because Cousin Itt is. And Uncle Fester is a close second.

Your grandmother is a real witch. Like, for real. He’s doing his best to be polite at dinner, but your little sister Wednesday keeps making comments about how much she thinks his organs would sell for and his first instinct is to shoot back like he would with Max. Your mother has to tell Pugsley that he can’t have live dynamite at the table, and he has to wait until after dinner to set it off. They have a pet lion named Kitty who eats the leftovers. And despite all the weirdness, it’s the best family dinner he’s ever experienced.

He goes outside in the rain with you even though it’ll mess up his hair. He totally sticks out, because your family all wear nothing but black and he’s in jeans and a red silk shirt, but your father spends way too long inspecting the weave of it and then declaring that he likes it, so Billy counts that as a win. The entire family likes him, he thinks, so he decides to stay for a while…because honestly, it’s not so bad at the Addams house.

Gomez teaches him how to fence and how to be a good boyfriend. He has hours worth of stories about how he wooed Morticia, even though Billy quickly learns that the real story was more about love at first sight and less about winning her hand in a fight to the death. Morticia teaches Billy about communication and also how to take care of plants, which he’s surprisingly good at (Cleopatra the African strangler takes a liking to him. He learns to appreciate the strangling.)

Uncle Fester…doesn’t really teach him anything, but he’s a fun guy to have around. He figures out what all of Thing’s hand gestures and signs mean, and learns that he’s actually a formidable arm wrestling opponent, despite not actually having an arm. Cousin Itt gets easier and easier to understand as the days go by. Mama uses him as a taste tester for meals, because “this boy’s surprisingly resilient! I coulda sworn breakfast would’ve killed him, but here he is!”

Wednesday warms up to him. Pugsley thinks he’s cool. They play games like wake the dead and Billy discovers that zombies do in fact exist, and he isn’t as surprised as he maybe should be.

When new, normal people come visit, Billy takes it upon himself to be one of the first ones they deal with, because they generally do better with him than Gomez, for some reason. Billy discovers that he never has to work a day in his life if he’s involved with your family, and that’s just an added bonus, because he really, really enjoys dating you, and he enjoys how relaxed your family is about him being your boyfriend. You even get to share a room.

He settles in so well that he nearly forgets about Hawkins entirely, and it’s pretty healing for him. The stuff in your life is weird as hell, but it’s a weird he can handle. And he knows now that if his father ever comes calling, he’s gonna have a LOT more than Billy to worry about.

[shifted-nights-au]

Shifted Nights Part 3

Michael took Evan to school the next morning. Henry insisted, much to Michael's dismay, that he needed to stay behind in case Springtrap decided to act up again.

As Michael and Evan approached the school, he felt the younger lag behind for a moment, pulling on his hand. He looked back at Evan.

"Mikey?"

"Yeah?"

"Daddy's not gonna hurt you when you go home, right?"

Of course he was.

"Of course not." He chuckled. "I'll be okay."

This seemed to put the boy at ease, as he started walking again. Once they reached the school gate, Evan gave his brother a big hug and bolted off to join Edd and Molly.

"Hey there, Mike."

Michael looked over to see Sophie, undoubtedly dropping off her siblings too.

"Hey."

He gave a gentle wave.

"So uh.....doin anything today?" She rocked back and forth gently.

"Not really, why?"

"Dyou wanna go get coffee or something?"

He tilted his head slightly. Was she....? No. Was she???

"Are you....asking me out?" He asked, uncertain. He didn't want to make assumptions, but he didn't want to misread signals and lead her on.

"A-ah, no! I'm sorry, did I come off that way?" She seemed nervous, a stark difference from her strangely confident self.

"No no! I just didnt wanna, like," Michael struggled to find the words, but it seems he didn't need to. Sophie let out a slight sigh.

"Good, I'm sorry!" She laughed gently.

Michael chuckled, rubbing his bandaged arm gently.

"Yeah, sure, let's go get coffee, or something." He makes the decision in a split second. As the two find themselves walking and conversing, Michael realizes he made a very, very bad mistake; he was currently decomposing.

When they sat down at a park table (Mike insisted they eat away from people) he stared at his coffee lid, lost in thought.

"Michael? Earth to Michael." Sophie laughed quietly as she waved at him. He shook his head and blinked.

"U-uh, sorry."

"You alright? You haven't even taken a sip yet."

"Y-yeah, I'm...I'm fine." He sighed. "Promise not to freak out when I take my mask off."

Sophie felt slightly taken aback by his comment. Why would she freak out?

"What?"

"I don't look like a human. Promise me that you won't flip out and scream when I take my mask off."

"I...promise..?"

Good enough.

Michael sighed quietly as he reached up and unhooked the surgical mask from his ears, moving slowly to not get the damn thing caught on his piercings. He heard Sophie sharply inhale at his face.

He was missing the cartilage of his nose, only a gaping hole left in its place. His skin was purple, but Sophie just thought it was makeup. His mouth seemed like it had been split open, a long trail of stitches leading up his cheeks on either side of his face, almost to his ears.

"Nice lip piercing."

Michael laughed, covering his eyes. "Thanks." He replied in a lighthearted, yet sarcastic tone.

"I mean it! It suits you." Sophie chuckled.

"Right, and you're not just saying that to distract from the rest of my face."

"I'm not! Honestly dude, I've seen so much weird shit on my meds, this barely even surprises me."

He felt his shoulders relax slightly.

"Can I ask a question, though?"

"....sure."

"What's the deal with your eyes? Like, they're cool, but are those contacts or...?"

"Of course its the one question I don't have an answer to." He laughs. "I...I dunno. It's weird, cause these aren't my real eyes, I lost those a while back. But everyone in my family has them. Except Evan."

"Huh, so is it a genetic thing?"

"Not....exactly." How the hell do you explain this to someone you just met? "My eyes used to be brown."

"No way." Sophie leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table.

Michael smiled and took a sip of coffee, slightly cringing at how hot it still was.

"Yeah. I used to look normal." He chuckled. "Had short hair and everything."

"What happened?" Sophie asked quietly.

"I grew a mullet."

This sent the woman into a fit of laughter. It was a cute laugh, it reminded him of someone he dated in highschool.

"Dude, you could hardly call that a mullet, it actually looks presentable!"

"I'll have you know I met two guys who looked great with mullets in highschool."

"You just saying that cause you were friends?" She chuckled.

Michael smiled and shook his head, looking at his coffee. He wondered how they were doing. He'd heard they both tried to work for Freddy Fazbear's but that ended soon after. He never got back in touch with them after that. Never had the chance.

Sophie and Michael sat together for a few hours, talking and having fun. Soon enough, it was time to pick up their siblings and head home. As the two were walking together, Sophie found herself chuckling.

"Yknow, you remind me a lot of this dude I knew in highschool. He was also named Michael. Cool guy."

Michael tilted his head slightly. Better find out now than never.

"Did you two date?"

Sophie furrowed her brow, a little confused and slightly offended.

"I guess, if you could call it that. I found out I'm a lesbian, turned out he was gay fo-"

"For one of his best friends, Jeremy?"

Sophie stopped in her tracks. Michael stopped a few steps in front of her and looked back.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, but for your senior prom you wore a blue dress and your date wore a white one. You and Michael showed up together, and Jeremy and your friend Jenny showed up together, and the four of you snuck in as a group cause it was the 80's and the school wouldn't ever let you go in with your girlfriend."

Sophie's eyes widened.

"No fucking way. You wore a black suit with a shitty purple bowtie-"

"Hey, it was not shitty, it was a very nice tie from my mom."

"Mikey?!" Sophie laughed and bolted forward, almost knocking the man over in a tight hug.

"WOAh- Jeez! Hi, yeah!" He gently pat her back.

"Why didnt you say it was you?!"

"I dont know if you were you!"

"God!!" She sighed and smiled. "What the FUCK happened to you?"

"It's....a story for a different time."

The two continued along their walk, reminiscing about highschool together, and talking about what happened after. The younger kids rushed out to meet them, and almost too soon, Sophie and Michael bid farewell.

[erensproudsimp]

Confession

Jean kirschtein x reader Oneshot

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Summary : You didn't want to admit your feelings to Jean in fear of losing him until tables were turned.

"I wonder how much everyone changed after all this time", you said staring at the moving landscape through the windshield.

"I'm pretty sure there's a lot to catch up with friends you haven't met since one year", Annie replied from the driver's seat.

"I bet Historia and Ymir must be dating by now", you chuckled.

"That wouldn't be much of a shocker to me to be honest", Annie added face straight at the road.

It's been one year since your friend group graduated university and because everyone was preoccupied with their individual lives, y'all didn't have the opportunity to meet up. Until today as Jean had organised a party at his mansion. The thought of his name made your face feel hot. For as long as you can remember you've always felt a certain type of way towards that horse face.

"Thinking about him huh", Annie said noticing the redness on your cheeks.

'Wha- what do you mean? No I'm not thinking of Jean", you responded frantically looking away.

" I didn't say a name though." You could see Annie smirking in the corner of your eyes.

"Don't you think it's high time you tell him about your feelings? Who knows he likes you back too and besides you two would actually make a pretty good couple looking back at how both of you were with each other," Annie suggested.

"I don't know about that, Annie, you know I fear rejection", you said dejectedly while reminiscing at the good old days when all you and Jean did was tease the hell out of each other and pull pranks with Sasha and Connie on teachers and the others.

Soon after you reached a grand gate.

"Open up horse face it's me and y/n," Annie said over the radio.

"Yeah yeah and don't call me horse face!" Jean scoffed on the microphone. Hearing his voice made butterflies errupt in your stomach. It was the first time you were coming over his house and damn the boy was rich rich as you looked at the magnificent well-kept garden enriched by a fountain in the middle face-to-face with stairs leading to the three story illuminated building.

When you reached inside, your eyes fell on Mikasa who was lounging on the couch. Shrieking you threw yourself on her, "Oh my god! Oh my god! Mikasa It's been so long!"

"Ahaha! Welcome y/n! I missed you too now stop crushing me," Mikasa coughed from the impact of your bodies colliding.

"Did someone get hurt? Why was there a scream?" Eren inquired coming from what seems to be the kitchen with Armin.

"Oh its just y/n", Armin said as you ran and jumped on him making both of you fall down laughing, "Armiiin! I missed you so much!"

"What's all this commotion about?" Connie asked revealing himself accompanied by Sasha who was savoring a pizza, a quizzical look on her face.

"Gosh I missed you guys so much! where are the rest?" you asked a tear in your right eye.

"Reiner, Berthold, Marco and Jean are setting up the projector to watch a movie and Ymir and Historia haven't reached ye-", Eren was cut off with the arrival of said people.

"Hola amigos! We have news for you all!" Ymir shouted while hugging Historia, "We're finally going out with each other!"

"Tell me why am I not surprised," Annie said as Historia blushed and Ymir just frowned at her words. Just at that moment Jean entered the room alongside with the boys making everyone invited present in the hall.

All the blood in your body rushed to your face as you saw Jean being a totally different person from last year. He grew a goatee on his face and his hair was longer too which seemed to be a mullet. He was wearing a casual grey hoodie and sweatpants yet this was so hot to you.

Your voice was stuck in your throat when you tried to say a word to him but either ways the monent the came he announced that everything was ready for the movie. He didn't even acknowledge your presence or make eye contact with you. It felt odd as you two were so close and he barely looked in your direction.

Everyone proceeded to go to the cinema hall which was located in the basement. You took your seat between Annie and Mikasa and Jean was right behind you. In a few the movie 'Attack on titan' started. Fifteen minutes in and you had already finished all your popcorn so you got up to fetch more from the kitchen. While going out you noticed that Jean and Marco were not in the hall but you choose to ignore it to go fetch your food. Right before you entered your destination you heard two voices coming from a room. You usually don't eavesdrop but the sudden mention of your name intrigued you to do so.

"It's now or never Jean who knows after how long you would finally see y/n again", you heard Marco said to Jean.

"I don't know Marco this seems like a bad decision to me", Jean continued.

"How would you know about that Jean? You think you know how y/n truly feels but you may be wrong you know ", your heart skipped a beat after hearing this.

Did this mean it was what you were thinking?

"Marco, I think it's for the best I don't tell y/n how I feel about her/them", Jean mumbled. So that's why he's been ignoring you. This confirmed your thoughts and under the shock you lost your footing pushing the door you were leaning against open. Jean saw his life flash in front of his eyes when he realised you heard what he said.

"You know what, I am letting you two alone to talk", Marco said taking his leave giving you a reassured look before closing the door behind him

You looked at Jean with soft eyes while he turned his back on you with his hand on the back of his neck. You noticed that the tips of his ears were red and before you could say anything he spoke up.

"So you heard what I said huh, would you please forget about it? I don't want to lose you because you're aware of my feelings for you", Jean said looking down with his back still facing you.

"Jean look at me", you asked him but he refused to do so which resulted in you walking to face him but he still looked away.

You grabbed his face to make him look at you. Jean was expecting you to reject him but instead you pressed your lips against his. His eyes widen at your action and he kissed you back more roughly when it hit him.

You pushed him to the bed as you sat on his lap continuing to makeout with him. His hands roamed around your body from your waist to finally grab your ass and give it a little squeeze.

You pulled back with a string of saliva connecting your mouths and looked him.

He looked at you thinking if only you knew how beautiful you were in his eyes.

"Does this mean you return my feelings?" Jean hopingly asked.

"Who kisses their best friend without feelings moron?" you smiled at him bopping his nose.

At this instant your mouths collided with each other again. Your hand reached down to peel his hoodie off his body and goddamn he was hot. You ran your petite hands against his hard muscular chest and abbs as Jean was looking at you adoringly.

Suddenly he grabbed your chin and attacked your neck with kisses. He ran this tongue on the skin while he unbuttoned your shirt to reveal your red bra. He went down from your neck to your collarbone leaving hickeys behind. A sharp pain followed by pleasure made you purr. He skilfully opened your bra with his one hand while the other was in your hair pulling it.

As your undergarment fell to the floor his jaw dropped at the sight of your perfect boobs in front of him. It felt like a blessing that he was witnessing you in this state. While he was busy gawking at you, you took his big slender hands and placed it on them. His cheeks took a bright red colour.

You grinded on his thighs feeling him getting harder. He let out a soft grunt feeling this sensation. He was sucking on one nipple and pinching the other one which made you throw your head back in absolute bliss.

Jean then advanced into helping you take off your pants leaving you in your panties. The more this man undresses you the more mesmerised he was by your figure. He slid his fingers up and down your cunt feeling how wet he made you when he barely even touched you.

"Would you sit on my face? please", Jean breathed with eyes filled with lust. You felt your clit pulsating at his request and you knew Jean could feel it too on his thigh. You nodded with your flushed face unable to say anything out of embarrassment.

He laid down on the bed as you took off your panties. Climbing on him his hands grabbed your waist guiding you right above his mouth. He ran his tongue through your folds making you lose your breath. He held you still so that you wouldn't move away while he was eating you out. He flicked your bud then inserted his tongue into and out you. You held onto the bed counter for support, your hair falling on your face.

"Jeannn", you moaned as you began riding his face. Jean was delighted let his tongue flat to let you pleasure yourself on him. Moving up and down you ravished this sweet feeling coursing through you. Soon after your legs began trembling signaling you were reaching your climax.

"Go ahead cum on my face please y/n", Jean pleaded and you did as he told. He felt your juices ran down his neck as he was savoring the taste.

"This is the best dinner of my life," he panted as you got off him. Your heart was beating so hard against your ribs as though it would come out.

You returned to your original place on his lap. You helped him take off his sweatpants watching his hard member spring free.

"Are you okay with this?" Jean asked.

"I've waited years to be able to do it so hell yeah I am," shifting yourself on his lap to make his dick right outside your entrance, you slowly inserted it in you. Feeling the neediness grow bigger Jean couldn't take it and pushed you down completely making his dick disappear in you. You bit his shoulder to help you bear with this immense pleasure.

"Fuck y/n you feel so good", Jean moaned being wrapped with your tight walls.

Pulling back from his shoulder you looked at him in the eyes as you rode him, your foreheads touching each other. Your boobs were bouncing from your up and down movement making you look so erotic to Jean. With time you picked more speed and was moving quicker. Jean was losing his mind at this. Your bodies blended into one. Jean bit his lips and grabbed your thighs so hard it was leaving marks. Your lips connected into a sloppy yet passionate kiss.

"Shit y/n I'm reaching my limit"

"Let's cum together Jean"

Jean was thrusting his hips into you out of instinct. The room was filled with the heavy breathing of both of you and the dirty sound of your ass and his thighs clapping.

Your body freezed as you let everything out of you and felt Jean's hot liquid inside of you. You screamed his name against his chest. Removing his dick from you, you sat on his lap looking into each other's eyes.

Suddenly you heard the door open revealing Eren outside.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" the poor boy appologised closing the door as fast as he could.

Jean and you broke into a laughter being happy that one of two finally confessed.

End.

Thank you for reading. :)

[stonecoldjerseyfox]

Jersey on my mind (part 38)

A faint, warm breeze caresses Mila’s face as she and Juri walk along the quiet street, running alongside the newly built wall. A few of the Alexandrian men are working on the final piece, funnily enough nearby the church that caused it to break. It’s been two months since the wall collapsed now, or at least that’s what she thinks. Mila looks at the new construction as she and Juri passes, feeling a sense of calm throughout her soul as her eyes sweep over the repaired structure that has also been expanded; a part of Deanna’s original plan for the community. On the piece of the wall that stood by the invasion, next to the small graveyard, someone has written the name of those who have perished; loved ones, friends, family and those who became family after the outbreak. It’s a nice memorial site, a quiet corner of the community. Since that day, when the walkers poured into Alexandria, everything has gone back to a somewhat normal state.  

It’s a hot mid-summer’s day, the sky is blue and the clouds look extra fluffy. Juri points towards them and gestures as if he squeezed an invisible marshmallow between his soft little fingers.

“Yeah they look tasty.” Mila smiles and squints up towards the floating clouds cruising by without a hurry. “What about-” Softly, she pinches Juri’s button nose. “I try to find us some yummy marshmallows for a barbecue when I get back, huh?”

With glittering eyes Juri nods and hugs her tightly; obviously he is positive about the idea.

“Then it’s a date.” Mila chuckles and hugs Juri back, before putting him down on the ground. “Ufh, you are getting heavy. Soon I won’t be able to carry you around.”

With a proud, sunny face Juri stretches, he’s certainly not a little guy anymore; in Mila’s eyes, paradoxically, he’s still her little baby, while she’s also well aware that he’s turning four in a few months. Where the heck did the years between infancy and two go? With a smile, she thinks of Maggie and what adventure awaits her and Glenn in the years to come. At least they have each other, a small consolation when the world is constantly on the brink of doom. 

“Since you’re a big boy now, you’re going to teach Maggie’s baby a lot of important things. Like Carl does with you and Judith.” Mila says and takes Juri’s hand. “You think you can do that?”

Juri nods, with eyes that take the task very seriously. He adores Carl like an older brother and being addressed as a big boy, doing ‘Carl-stuff’, is everything he’s ever wanted. Juri gestures with his free hand and makes a finger walk in the air; of course he will teach the new baby to walk. But when he lets go of Mila’s hand, to show that he’s going to teach the baby to tie its shoes, Mila raises her left eyebrow.

“Well, I think we have to practice that one a little bit, Malysh.” Mila says.

Stubbornly, Juri signals that he’s already trying to learn, or rather states, very stubborn, that Daryl should teach him. He’s done it before, Juri gestures with a triumphant grin.

“Really?” Mila smiles. “Sure, I bet he’s good at it. What’s left for me then? I’m just gonna sit by and watch?”

By putting his hands together in front of him and pointing his index fingers straight ahead, Juri gestures a finger-gun. He narrows one eye and pretends to aim and fire. He points at her with a smile, clarifies that she’s best at shooting, therefore she should teach him. 

“Spasibo, malysh.” She winks at Juri. “Not quite yet, though. But I promise you, I will.”

Further down the street, both of them catch sight of Daryl and Denise. They part, Denise walks away from them and Daryl turns and starts to walk in their direction. Mila waves at him and Juri starts to run as fast as his short legs possibly can towards their favorite archer. Despite his packing, a backpack and the crossbow, Daryl receives Juri when he reaches him; he lifts him up in the air on straight, strong arms, making Juri’s blonde hair dance around his angelic face. The silent laugh that spreads on his face makes Mila’s heart swell with joy. She had never thought that the surly archer would melt completely because of a, certainly charming, mute toddler; her little ray of sunshine. He even smiles as he lifts Juri into the air. Surely a sight for sore eyes, she thinks as they meet in the middle of the street.

“Ya’ ready?” Daryl greets her as he puts Juri down. “We’re heading out now.”

“All done.” She replies, notices a piece of paper in Daryl’s hand. A shopping list? “That’s a nice little list you got there.” Mila peeks over the edge of the slightly crinkly paper, that looks like it’s been passed around the entire community. “Food, gas, some medicine, more medicine… another medicine-” She frowns her eyebrows. “Orange soda?”

“Dunno.” He shrugs. “Denise wanted to surprise Tara.”

“That’s nice.” Mila nods.

It was decided last night that Tara and Heath would go on a longer supply run. Daryl was asked to follow, but declined. Mila suspected that it was because of her; she’s been a bit under the weather the last couple of days; she’s been tired and just a bit feeble, felt nauseated. Carol was sure it was just her female hormones acting out, which could very well be a possibility. Tracking a period during the apocalypse wasn’t high on her ‘to do’-list, so she brushed it off. Daryl didn’t say anything about the reason for his decision, but Mila guessed that he didn’t feel like leaving her behind, even though she’s neither sick or… well, anything really. Just a bit tired. Instead, it was decided that Daryl and Rick would go on a supply run. Mila offered to come along; Daryl couldn’t possibly stop her from following, so it was settled that she’d tag along. 

They walk to the dusty Chrysler sedan together. Rick’s already in place, assuring that his gun is loaded and attached properly to his belt when they arrive.

“Mornin’.” He greets them with a nod; Once a cop, always a cop. The only thing missing is the wide-brimmed hat. “Ready to go?”

Both of them nod and Daryl hands Rick the list of supplies.

“Ya’ see anything you miss?” He asks.

Rick glances through the list quickly.

“We’re outta’ toothpaste.” He states and lifts his eyes to them, waving the note between his fingers. “Keep an eye open for spearmint and baking soda. Michonne’s orders.”

“Got it.” Mila turns to Juri and squats in front of him. “Okay, be nice to Carol and the others, don’t run away.”

With a serious look, Juri reminds her of the promise of marshmallows.

“I’ll remember.” Mila promises and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “There, davay.” She gets up from the ground as Juri turns and runs over to the porch, climbs the stairs and gets into the house to find Carol. 

They get in the car, Rick and Daryl in the front seat and Mila in the back seat. She puts her handgun and backpack in the seat next to her and Rick rolls over to the gates, where Eugene’s about to push it open for them. On the other side, pierced on a couple of rebar attached to a broken car, a couple of walkers are trying their best to reach for them with their worn, boney arms, all in vain. 

Eugene strutts over to the passenger seat of the car and leans into the open window. The mullet looks more solid than ever as he hands Daryl another note. “I mapped out some of the agricultural supply places in the area.” He says in the heavy Texan accent Mila finds incredibly fascinating. “Even if they’ve been cleaned out, my bet is that the sorghum would be untouched. Now, that there is a criminally underrated grain that could change the game with our food situation from scary to hunky-dunky.”  

No one says anything. Mila rests her elbows on the backs of the driver’s and passenger seats and leans in so her head sticks out in between the two men in the front. 

”I'm talking standability-” Eugene continues. “Drought tolerance, grain-to-stover ratio that is the envy of all corns.” He pauses. “Think about it.”

”Gosh I could listen to him forever.” Mila says and looks at Rick. “Hunky-dunky.” She repeats in an as good as it gets Texan accent, while meeting Eugene’s eyes.

“All right.”

The car drives out through the gate, Rick accelerates and they leave Alexandria behind. 

“I’m having a good feeling ‘bout today.” Rick says cheerful.

“Really?” Mila replies.

“Just-” Rick shrugs. “You know- You just feel it. Today’s the day. We're gonna find food, maybe some people. The law of averages has gotta catch up.”

“We ain’t seen nobody for weeks.” Daryl notes. “Maybe we ain’t gonna find nobody.”

“That’s sunny.” Mila says, strokes his bare arm with her fingertips. “Let’s cheer this bad boy up, sheriff.”

Rick grins and pushes ‘play’ on the stereo. The music starts faintly and Mila recognizes the band as Social Distortion. 

”Oh I like this one!” Mila exclaims and starts to sing along.  

”Thought ya’ only liked country?” Rick looks at her in the rearview mirror. 

”Nuh.” Mila shakes her head. ”I’m full of surprises. Fun fact, I went to a bunch of cool concerts back in Jersey. These guys, Bruce Springsteen, Neil Young, Rise Against, Pearl Jam- Lots of rock, punk, country-” Mila continues to sing along when the chorus starts. ”I made out with the Social Distortion singer, Mike Ness, after a concert. Or at least I think it was him.”

”Think?” Daryl sputters and turns to look at her. 

”I was eighteen!” Mila shrugs easily. “And drunk beyond judgement.” She confesses. ”He was- old, kinda’ handsome. Smelled quite nice, except the sweat. When I think about it, it could just as well be any middle aged guy with tattoos and tons of hair wax working backstage. I will never know for sure. But I’d like to believe it was the singer. Makes the story more interesting.”

Rick laughs.

“Concerts are wild.” He agrees while tapping the steering wheel. “I took Lori to see Tim McGraw once, before Carl was born. Cheap fried hot wings, beer in red plastic cups, great music; great night.”

“Is he the-” Mila starts to hum while drumming on the thighs. “Hu-huuu- I like it, I love it-”

“-I want some more of it-” Rick tunes in and snaps his finger to her beat. “I try so hard, I can't rise above it. I don't know what it is 'bout that little gal's lovin’-”

“Christ sake-” Daryl sighs and slides further down the passenger seat. 

“Here-” Rick hands Mila the worn plastic case of cd’s from the door pocket. “Find something good.”

“Yes, captain.” Mila unzips the case and starts to flip the plastic pages, filled with scratched cd’s, before finding something that looks promising. “Here-” 

“Please, don’t-” Daryl pleads. 

Too late. She leans into the front seat and pushes the cd into the radio.

“Crank it up!” 

Rick turns the volume wheel up to fourteen and both he and Mila happily exclaims “yeeeah” when the intro to “Life is a highway” blasts out of the cheap stereo. 

“Ya’ both crazy!” Daryl cries, in an attempt to drown out the radio. 

“Draws ‘em away from home!” Rick calls before tuning into the catchy chorus with Mila.

Rick knows the lyrics even better than she does; she still stumbles on the fast lines combined with her not pitch perfect english.

After driving for awhile, while continuing their exceptional singalong, Daryl manages to override the music:

”Look-” Daryl points out of the window and Rick hits the brakes in a matter of seconds. ”Back up.”

While Mila stretches forward and turns down the volume, Rick puts in reverse gear and drives the car back to the intersection. About a hundred meter to their right lies a couple of buildings. A silo, a shed and a barn, with ’sorghum’ written all over the dirty white roof. Rick turns the wheel, hits the gas and drives in the direction of the barn. He drives up on the dirt road and parks in front of the red building. It looks untouched, as if no one else knew about the great power of the sorghum. They step out of the car and look around. It’s quiet, no walkers.

“Let’s check it out.” Rick looks around the corner.

”Best to be safe.” Daryl says and walks over to the storage roll up door. He checks the handle, nods as to tell that it’s unlocked. ”Ya’ cover?” He looks up at her and Rick. 

”Yup.” Rick returns, hand on his gun. 

While the two men get ready for combat, Mila throws a glance out over the fields surrounding the barn; keeping an eye open for potential enemies. The door goes up with a loud noise and Rick bursts into the barn. Mila’s eyes land on the back of a truck. 

“No sorghum?” Mila says.

”Doesn’t look like it.” Rick turns to her and Daryl. “We’re good.” He states and points at the truck. ”One more time?” 

”It ain’t locked.” Daryl puts his hand on the handle and thugs at the box truck roll up door that rolls up with a rattle. 

”Wohaa!” Mila exclaims. 

The truck is filled with supplies; food, blankets, towels, everything really. It must be their lucky day.

”How ’bout that?” Daryl says. “Looks like we’re done for today.”

”Let’s get this thing going, grab our gear and come back for the car later. Take another way back and see what we can see.” Rick states. “We still need to find more things.”

”I’ll go start it up-” Mila says. ”If it starts.”

”I think it does.” 

”Also one of your optimistic predictions?” She smirks at Rick, turns and walks over to the drivers side and opens the door. ”Hah, they where dumb enough to leave the keys.”

Daryl unloads the most necessary things from the car, Rick locks it with a ‘beep’ on the key and  they get inside the truck; Mila makes herself comfortable between her two companions and they backs out of the barn and hits the road. They head in the direction Rick drove before Daryl asked him to stop. The road is lined by green, lush forest. The sun has settled behind some clouds, but it’s still warm, a sticky moist heat that doesn’t really make Mila’s tiredness any better. She’s already drinked a whole bottle of water by herself and starts to feel her jeans push at her bladder. In the distance, she sees what looks like a very run-down gas station. 

“Should we check it out?” Daryl looks at Rick, who nods. “Might be some gas left.”

“Let’s find out.” 

Rick parks at the first pump and they get out of the truck. The gas station is a mess; debris everywhere, an abandoned jeep is parked outside and the black color of the roof has begun to flake and exposes the gray metal underneath. The store looks equally miserable. She strolls up to the doors and peeks through the dirty glass, but sees nothing else than darkness. On her right Daryl’s checking out a tipped-over vending machine, filled with soda and candy. Someone must’ve given up halfway through their attempt to move it, Mila thinks.

“Give me a hand with this.” Daryl says.

Rick, looking around the desolated place, turns on the spot and walks over to help. Besides her urge to pee, Mila’s struck by a slight sensation through her head, like nausea, just as she has been doing on and off the last two days. Heck, not now. 

“I just gotta- you know.” She makes a whistling sound, to signal that she needs to find a toilet, or just walk behind the corner of the gas station to pee, or vomit - right now she cannot decide which of them she needs the most.

“We’ll get this.” Daryl nods towards the vending machine.

Mila turns and walks towards the door of the gas station. She thugs at it, then pushes it open with force. It’s barricaded with a shelf and she creates a passage wide enough for her to get through  and walks inside the dark store, gun raised in front of her. She lets her gaze get used to the dark, then sweeps over the empty, chaotic store before she walks towards the back of it, towards the door with ‘staff only’, hanging on just one hinge. The back of the shop, a room that looks like something between an office and a storage, with walls clad in brown wooden panels, is also empty. She quickly finds the ‘staff only’-toilet that doesn’t look far too disgusting to sit down on. She closes the door halfway, to prevent herself from being in total darkness. While unzipping her jeans she curses herself for not bringing a flashlight. As she sits down, she promises herself to wash her whole body with steel wool as soon as they are back in Alexandria; the toilet stinks of urine and It must be a pure bacteria party in the small space. She closes her eyes, feels how the nausea calms down a bit, focuses to breath through her mouth to close out the acrid smell. She takes another breath and feels her bladder relax, happy to release the huge amount of water she drank. 

Despite the disgusting toilet, it feels better to go to the toilet inside than outside. Mila reluctantly remembers the time she had to pee in the woods, and a walker snuck up behind her. With her trousers around her ankles, Mila had to ward off the armless, dead man. It wasn’t her proudest moment for sure. 

Loud voices and thumps make her wake up from her thoughts. Mila almost falls on her nose getting up from the toilet seat with her jeans around her ankles. Swearing over the fact that she might have to repeat her unworthy pants incident, she makes her way out from the bathroom, thuggin’ on her panties and jeans to get them over her ass, to see what’s going on outside. Is there an ambush? She loses balance, while trying to zip her pants, when she makes her way out in between the gap in the door and drops to the pavement. While brushing her hair out of her face, Mila catches sight of Daryl and Rick standing out in the street. The truck is gone. 

“What the heck?!” She cries and gets up from the ground, fiddling with the zipper. “Where’s the truck?”

“Gone.” Rick hollers back at her. 

Mila lets go of the zipper again -whatever if she shows off her undies at this point- and holds out her arms, to show that she noticed that very well on her own. 

“I was gone for like, five minutes, and now you lost the truck?”

“He took it-” Rick continues. 

“He who?” 

“Some goddamn’ hippie.” Daryl scoffs angrily. “Crashed into Rick and then drove off with the truck, swiped the keys.”

“Wha- just like that?” Mila says, more confused than ever. What the hell happened?

“We talked to him.” 

“Okay… and?”

“Told us his name- called himself Jesus.”

“Yeah I’m sure that’s his name.” Mila laughs dryly; right, Jesus Christ would surely show up in the middle of nowhere and steal a truck filled with toothpaste, food and other supplies. “Jesus don’t steal trucks.” She says. “Jesus isn’t even real! And how on earth did he overpower both of you?” 

The two men in front of her transform into two ashamed puppies, that’s been caught peeing on the carpet, in the matter of seconds. Mila suspects that they weren’t overpowered but tricked; muscles and guns are no use for cunning, and she knows a lot about the latter.  

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Mila sighs, squats and ties her boots with an extra secure double knot. “Lets go.” 

“What?” Daryl looks at her. 

“We gotta follow the truck.” She replies and thanks her lucky star for not having eaten anything heavy earlier this morning. “I won’t let someone who believes himself to be Jesus just steal our truck. I went to church back in Russia when I was a child; stealing is a sin, which makes this Jesus a hypocrite. Come on.”

Mila starts to run. Had she known she would have to chase after a truck, she would have taken a pair of running shoes. They pass the vending machine after a few hundred meters, discarded in the middle of the road. Mila brakes and takes a deep breath, wiping sweat from her forehead. The sticky heat is killing her and the three of them drip with sweat. Rick’s shirt is several shades darker and Daryl looks almost freshly showered. Next to her, Rick doubles down and rests his hands on his knees, still hugging the gun.

“How far do you think he’d come?” She pants.  

“Dunno.” Daryl takes a crowbar from his backpack, shatters the display case of the vending machine and starts to stuff orange sodas and some snacks into his bag. He reaches Mila a can. “Here, drink.”  

She smiles, as to say ‘thank you’ and opens the can. The soda is somewhere between lukewarm and warm, but it’s better than nothing. She finishes the can quickly and wipes her mouth on the back of her arm.  

“Isn’t this the soda Denise wanted?” She asks.

“Uhu.” Daryl nods. “Special request.” 

He takes one of the cans, punctures a hole in its side and pours the lukewarm orange drink into his mouth. Very classy.

“Hey, whatever she wants. She saved Carl's life.” Rick replies and receives the can from Daryl. “If there's still people out here, and they're still people, we should bring 'em in.” 

“Still feelin’ positive, huh?” Daryl asks his friend. “Takin’ em in? Like this guy, stealing our truck?”

“No, not this guy.” 

Daryl turns and looks at her, the gaze wanders from top to bottom.

“Ya’ good to go?” The look is caring, protective. As if he was trying to say 'sorry ‘bout the bumpy ride'. 

Mila nods, feels a drop of sweat run down her lip, into her mouth. 

“Let’s get this over with.” She replies and collects her long, sweaty hair on the back of her head, ties it up with a hair tie. “I’ve ran marathons, remember.”

They set off again at a slightly faster pace, strengthened by the soda. Mila breathes calmly as she sprints over the concrete, counts her breaths as she used to do when she was an avid runner and used to go out for a long run for fun. The circumstances are a bit different from back then; no running shoes or comfortable running clothes in bright colors, no iPod filled with upbeat music and no fitness clock tracking her pulse and her route. The boots are actually horrible to run in, the same goes for jeans, t-shirt and denim shirt, plus a backpack and weapons. 

They follow the tire tracks until they reach a crest, where Daryl signals for them to stop. Carefully they ascend the hill until they can peek over the edge. In the hill down on the other side they see the truck, standing still. It has a puncture and Mila immediately sees a long-haired man with a beard, dressed in a long coat and a beanie, which in itself is pure madness. She’s dripping with sweat and would never in her life put on a long coat or hat now. 

“That’s him?” She asks faintly. 

“That’s him.” Rick nods at them to follow him into the woods to the left. 

They carefully make their way over the fallen leaves between the trees, without losing sight of the truck. The man walks around to the back of the car and they see their chance. They quickly get out of the woods, Rick takes the lead and throws himself forward, wraps his arms around the man from behind.

“Hold still and maybe we won’t hurt you.”

If Rick thought it would help, he was completely wrong. The man sends off an elbow into Rick’s stomach and is suddenly free again. He makes a move, kicks Rick in the guts and gets him down on the ground. It's obvious that the guy is a bit sharper than the rest of the knives in the drawer; Mila climbs out of the ditch just as the man is about to set off towards the driver’s door, but is stopped by Daryl. While the men fight with each other, Mila manages to get up on the road just as the bearded man slips out of Daryl’s arms, pushes him into the side of the truck, turns around and loses track completely at the sight of Mila, who -tired of running and still a little nauseous- has pulled out her gun and aims it at him.

“Surprise!”

The brief moment is enough for Daryl to get back on his feet. He sees his chance when the man turns and notices Mila and tackles him from behind, down into the ditch. At gunpoint, they finally have the upper hand.

“Thanks.” Daryl pants and looks at Mila.

“The power of surprise.” She shrugs and looks down at the man. 

He’s about thirty, long brown hair, beard. Yes, she sees the resemblance to Jesus; every time she sat in church and counted the icons portraying him when she was little. The serious man with sloping shoulders, blue dress, beard and well-groomed hair. The difference is that the Jesus in the icons didn’t have a knitted beanie and a leather coat.

The foliage behind the man in the grass rustles. A walker then announces its presence, by a guttural hissing sound.

“Do you even have any ammo?” Jesus looks at them.

Without answering, Mila raises her gun at the walker and shoots.  

“Okay.” Jesus nods, still with his hands raised in front of him. “You gonna shoot me over a truck?”

“There's a lot of food on that truck.” Rick says. “The keys - now.”

“I think you know I'm not a bad guy.” 

Once again, Mila suddenly feels that unpleasant, nauseating feeling, but this time it spreads from her head down to her stomach. She turns around, hurries away a few meters, bends forward and vomits into the ditch. ‘Is she okay?’ she hears Jesus' question, while she spits and feels how she shivers all over her body; fuck, she hates to vomit. But it actually feels better.

“Ey-” She hears Daryl scoff at the poor guy. “Eyes here, dude! The keys!”

“I’m fine.” Mila hollers and waves her arm at them, still folded like a pocket knife.

“You sure?” Jesus calls back.

“Oh shut up!” She shouts. “It’s because of you I’m throwing up.”

“Sorry.”

“Just-” Mila straightens her back. She feels less nauseated, a bit weak but otherwise much better. “Give us the keys.”

For some reason, Mila can’t figure out why, Jesus throws her the keys. It might be out of pity, or the fact that her two comrades are holding him at gunpoint; she nods at him, as a way to say thanks.

While Rick ties Jesus up, Daryl hurries over to her.

“Ya’ okay?” His eyes are worried. “Ya’ sick?”

“No I’m fine.” Mila nods averted. “Probably just too much running and too little breakfast. I’m good now.” She smiles. “Just, don’t kiss me until we’re back and I’ve brushed my teeths, okay?”

He doesn’t look completely convinced, but he grunts a little, caresses her cheek and places a kiss on her forehead instead.

“There’s toothpaste in the back of the truck.” He says, before returning to Rick and Jesus.

Mila gets into the truck, sits down in the middle seat and closes her eyes; maybe she should try to find one of those toothpastes, she has a foul taste in her mouth. She looks around the cab and finds a pack of spearmint gum. As she pushes a third gum into her mouth, Daryl and Rick jump on either side of her.

“Where is Jesus?” She asks.

“On the street.”

“What? We can’t just leave him?”

“Of course we can.” Rick replies, turns the key and starts the car. 

“So long, you prick.” Daryl shouts out of the window as they drive off.

Mila chuckles dryish; She has an underlying sense that something is going to happen. Karma. She takes out the case of cd’s from her backpack, picks the “best of sixties” album and pushes the cd into the stereo. The sound of Connie Francis “Tennessee waltz” crackles out of the speakers and Daryl hands out snacks from the vending machine. 

“Still worked out. Today still is the day.” Rick recalls while snacking on a chocolate-peanut bar. He then points in front of him. “Hey, look at that.”

The truck drives out of the forest, and Mila sees both fields and buildings.

“Yeah, a barn.“ Daryl says. 

As Rick turns off in the direction of the barn, something makes them all fall silent and listen; thumps, like something hitting the truck box, is heard even over the loud music.

“What’s that?” Mila exclaims. “You hear that?”

It’s inevitable what the noise is; footsteps.

“I think that son of a bitch is on the roof.” Daryl says. 

All three of them react at the same time; Rick stands on the brake pedal, the car stops with a howl and Jesus falls down in front of the windshield and tumbles to the ground. Daryl, swearing loudly, throws himself out of the car to follow him and Mila follows Daryl. She has no idea why, but her gut feeling tells her that Daryl won’t be gentle on him. It also tells her that Jesus probably isn’t dangerous at all, which isn’t in his favor if Daryl, who’s all muscles and pretty bad impulse control, gets a hold of him.

“Daryl-” She calls. “No- Stop!”

“I’ve had enough of ya’!” Daryl shouts at Jesus, not hearing Mila. 

This must look ever so stupid, Mila thinks as she sprints after Daryl and the hippy-dippy guy into the dry green field; like one of those silent films, except that the soundtrack in this case happens to be Helen Shapiro’s “Walking back to happiness” playing from the car. Mila running after Daryl, running after this odd long-haired man who seems to believe he’s Jesus. Why in the world would he otherwise call himself that? 

”No- no, stop it!” Mila shouts, as if she was scolding at a bad dog. 

She stumbles and falls flat on her stomach, while Jesus reaches the now stationary truck and throws himself into the driver’s seat. Daryl follows.

“Come here, you little shit!” He barks and starts to drag Jesus out of the car. 

At the same time a walker has snuck up behind Daryl. Mila gets up on her knees, gropes for her gun, but before she has managed to raise it to shoot, she hears Jesus call out ‘duck’; Daryl ducks just in time. A gun finds its way into the walker's skull and it falls back like a bowling pin. 

“Thanks.” Daryl pants, then sends off a punch into Jesus face. “That's my gun! Come here!” 

He throws Jesus out of the truck, onto the grass. He doesn’t remain there for long; instead, he lays hooks for Daryl, who stumbles, giving Jesus time to get up on his feet and set off again.

“Son of a-” Daryl roars and runs after.

“Fuck- knock it out!” Mila shouts and increases her speed, minimizing the distance between herself and her, frankly pissed off, other half. Before Daryl’s able to take another leap in his hunt for the handcuffed, longhaired karate kid, she tackles him to the ground with a thud. ”Stop this!” Mila climbs up on top of him, to prevent Daryl from getting up from the grass. ”This is stupid!” 

”Christ- knock it out ya’!” 

Crap, she doesn’t have time to argue. Mila climbs over Daryl and sets after Jesus, who has slowed down to watch the wrestling match played out in the grass behind him. A surprised expression spreads on his bearded face as he sees her approaching, faster than he imagined. Jesus turns and starts to run again, but he doesn’t get up to speed fast enough. Mila lunges for him and they tumbles to the ground in a bundle of arms and legs, and she starts to wrestle him. He doesn’t fight her, but he tries with all his power to get loose from her grip. Mila gets a sharp elbow in the eye and a cracked lip before hobo-Jesus is ripped away from her by Daryl, who looks like he’s boiling.

“Ey, that’s ma’ girl, ya’ scumbag!”

“Wohaa, jeez.” The long haired, ravaged man, flies like a raggedy Anne-doll through the air.  

Mila gets up from the ground, covered in dry grass and wipes blood from her mouth on the back of her hand. Her eye pounds and already feel swollen, a certain recipe for an upcoming, gorgeous black eye. Daryl pants loudly through his nostrils while holding on to the ravaged man’s coat, the poor guy can barely stand up straight.  

“I had him.” Mila glares at Daryl and spits blood on the ground in front of her feet.

“I’d had him if ya’ didn’t tackle me.” Daryl scoffs back, still holding on to Jesus' collar. 

“You’d kill that poor man if you’d catched him.” Mila replies, pointing at Jesus. “You’re not exactly sensible when you’re angry.”

“Oh yeah right, you’re the one to talk!” Daryl scoffs back. “What about that guy’s kneecaps-”

“I had every right-” Mila cries. “He sliced my guts with a fucking machete!” 

”You two are related of some sort?” Jesus doubtfully breaks in. 

”Married!”

“What?” Daryl sputters, looking both terrified and shocked at her sudden, out of the blue exclamation. 

“Feels like it!” Mila replies and spits more blood; they’re arguing like they were married at least. “Pridurok...” She mutters, eyes locked at Daryl.  

”Oh-” Jesus pants and looks just as confused as Daryl does, plus a bit tufted. “Right-”

“Shut up.”

Pow! Jesus falls to the ground. Mila rolls her eyes; why does he have to punch everyone? She snorts and turns, stepping through the tall grass in the direction of the car. Damn hypocrisy, she thinks to herself. She passes Rick, who walks in the opposite direction out in the tall grassy field, holding his bloody knife, but ignores him. She’s frankly grumpy and her eye hurts. But she halts when she doesn’t spot the truck.

“Where the fuck is the truck!?”

She looks around. It’s nowhere to be seen. As she lets her gaze sweep over the field she catches sight of something behind some trees, in the small pond.

“Shit.” Rick comes up at her side, eyes locked at the truck that’s sinking further down the pond. “He must’ve knocked it into neutral.”

“Now what?”

They both turn and start walking back towards Daryl and the man in the grass.

“Are you alright?” Rick looks at Daryl. “Let's go check them cars, get the hell out of here.”

“What about the guy?” Mila points at Jesus. 

“What about him?” Daryl asks. 

“Well, he was actually nice, saved you.” She replies. 

“Hm.”

“Did he ever pull a weapon on you?” Rick asks. 

“Fine.” Daryl sputters. “Fuck- fine. Let’s put him up a tree.”

“No. He’ll come back with us.” Mila corrects, giving Daryl a sharp gaze. “Enough of that grumpy attitude.” She nods at Jesus. “Come on, let’s find a car. Drag him with you.”

They find a working car about fifteen minutes later. Daryl throws Jesus into the backseat. Mila takes the wheel, Daryl calls shotgun and Rick takes place next to Jesus, who’s still knocked out and they start driving back to Alexandria. 

“He took a pretty hard hit.” Rick says and meets Mila’s gaze in the mirror, then looks at Jesus. “Denise needs to look him over.”

“Try to wake him.” Mila suggests. “See if he’s got permanent brain damages.”

Rick shakes the man, who grunts and starts moving. He blinks and jumps.

“You’re alive.” Rick says. “Good.”

“Yeah-” Jesus grunts again. “Why am I in a car? I heard something about a tree.”

“It was a joke.” Mila says, meeting his drowsy eyes in the mirror. 

“It wasn’t.” Daryl looks at her.

“You wouldn’t have gone through with it.” Mila gives him a sharp gaze. “You wouldn’t have left him.”

“I would’ve-” Daryl nods upwards. “Right up in a tree.”

“He’s a comedian.” Mila says, once again looking at Jesus in the mirror, not taking notice of Daryl’s irritated expression. “Or at least tries to be.”

”Where have you been all my life?” Jesus chuckles and looks at her in the mirror and sends off a radiant smile that tells Mila that he’s using mouthwash on a daily basis. 

”Ey- knock it out!” Daryl reaches back and slaps the man on his tied up hands. 

Mila lets out a faint laugh. Huh, look at that; a jealous Daryl Dixon. Jeez Louise, there’s nothing to worry about, Mila thinks to herself, but Daryl’s poor self-confidence doesn’t make it easy for him. She pats her jealous, southern knight on the back of the hand.  

”He looks like a hippy dippy orthodox priest.” Mila gives the surly, blushing archer a soft gaze. “Calm down, Dixon.” She turns to the rear view mirror and the hippy dippy man in the backseat. If papa was here, he wouldn’t have let him inside the car. Not in a million years. “No offense, but you do.” She says to Jesus.

”None taken.” He nods at her with a curious gaze. “What’s up with the accent?”

”Up and running, thanks for noticing.”

While steering the car with her knees, Mila once again takes out the case of cd’s, now missing the one with sixties-music, takes out a random cd and puts it in the stereo. She adjusts the volume-wheel on the radio and increases the sound of “The Chain” and starts to tap the wheel while singing along. 

“You’re a really good singer.” The man in the back calls after a while.

“Thanks.” Mila replies backwards. “I’m a dental nurse.”

“Did you sing to the patients?”

“To the kids, sometimes. Some terrified men before they, you know-” She closes her eyes and pretends to snore. “Put them down.”

“I’m sure that’s not what it’s called.” Rick replies.

“I made them sleep.” Mila shrugs her shoulders. “Right?”

“Not what it sounded like.” Daryl says and meets her eyes, with a slightly amused expression on his stern face. 

“Anyway I think it sounded beautiful.” Jesus says. 

”I like this guy!” Mila looks at him and Rick with an excited smile upon her face, nodding her head to the beat of the music. ”Can we keep him?”

“He ain’t a dog.” 

“But he’s quite fun!” 

”You see.” Jesus says triumphantly. “She likes me.”

That’s it for Daryl. He turns and once again starts to try and hit the guy. Mila hits the brakes and the car stops with such force that Jesus is thrown into the headrest of the passenger seat, and dozes off.

“Knock it off!” Mila roars. “Or I won’t drive an inch further.”

The angry mom-voice isn’t only effective on children, it works really well on adult men as well. Daryl mutters and returns to his seat. Mila steps on the gas pedal again and continues to drive. Outside, it eventually starts to get dark. The sky is clear and the stars look brighter than ever. When she brakes at the gate to Alexandria, it’s pitch black. Daryl gets out, opens the gate and she drives into the community; a sensation of calm spreads throughout her body. That’s when she remembers.

“Shit.”

“What?” Rick asks.

“Forgot to get marshmallows.”

When the gate’s closed and locked, Daryl gets into the car again and Mila drives up to the infirmary, parks and the engine dies. The three of them get out of the car and stretch. What a fucking day, Mila thinks to herself, while watching Rick and Daryl dragging the still unconscious Jesus out of the backseat. They carry him up the stairs to the infirmary, knock on the door and wait. Denise opens in a few seconds.

“Sorry to wake you up.” Rick excuses himself before Denise can say something.

From her spot at the car, Mila notices Denise’s confused expression as she notices the lifeless man. 

“Who is this?!”

“Come on, man, he's heavy.” Daryl says to Rick. “Oh, that thing-” He looks at Denise. “Uh, didn't work out. It's this asshole's fault. Sorry.”

While they bring Jesus inside, Mila leans up against the hot hood and looks at the stars. Juri has probably been asleep for a while now. She doesn’t know what time it is, but it’s late. Rick and Daryl walk out of the infirmary just as she catches sight of the pole star. 

“He’s taken care of.” Daryl says as he walks up to her. He examines her in detail in the faint glow of the infirmary. “Let’s patch ya’ up.” 

Mila doesn’t struggle. She’s tired and hungry. They go back into the infirmary and she sits down on one of the beds with clean, white sheets and exhales. There’s a mirror in the corner of the room. When Mila sees her reflection, she sighs even deeper; she has a pretty neat blackeye and a cracked lip. Daryl sits down on the stool in front of her.  

“A hell of a blackeye-” He squints at the look of her pulsating, sore eye. “Ya’ really took a few punches.” He takes the bottle with alcohol and a wipe and pours some onto it. “Like Rocky Balboa.”

“Yeah, but I won.” Mila replies. 

“Just like Rocky.” Daryl replies. “Still though- hell of a fight.” 

“Better me than you I guess.” Mila swears as Daryl, as gently as he can, wipes her cracked lip with the drenched wipe. “You’d kill him.” 

Mila nods over Daryl’s shoulder, towards the knocked out man lying on the narrow hospital bed, handcuffed to the bed frame. Daryl turns, looks at Jesus, then scoffs. 

“I’ll kill him if he ever puts his hands on ya’ again.” Daryl mutters and throws the wipe over the room, into the trash bin. 

“Don’t have to, I’ll do it myself.” Mila smiles, but grimaces; it hurts to smile. “I know.” Daryl replies. “Sorry ‘bout earlier. For yellin’ at ya’.”

“You gotta work on that temper.” Mila states. “It ain’t good for the blood pressure.”

With a grunt, as much of an answer as anything, Daryl puts his hand at the back of her head, brings it to his lips and kisses her on the forehead. 

“Ain’t gonna need to stitch ya’ up.” He says. “Come on, let’s get ya’ to bed, Rocky.”

“Yes, Adrien.” Mila grins wryly. “What about Jesus Christ Superstar?” She nods towards the other bed. 

“Yeah we’ll deal with him later.”

“You gonna tuck me in first?” Mila asks. “I’d love that, but honestly, I need a quick shower before bed. I think I might have caught every possible STD there is from that disgusting toilet at the gas station.”

[jimmymcgools]

For the scene commentary, chapter 2 ACB, the first real conversation he has with Kim at the end of the day when he decides to bum a smoke from her.

don’t mind me waiting to answer this until i'm back at work! 🤡

coworker: you look focused over there me: oh i am

(here are my previous answers or ask for anything i haven’t covered yet )  

i’m trying to remember what i was thinking about as i wrote this scene and it’s just a big white void. these early acb chapters are interesting because somewhere around chapter 5/6 i started trying to make them stand on their own a bit, and this one feels kinda empty in comparison. 

i know i had some of chapter 2 written before i posted chapter 1 (first and only time this has ever happened), but after i hit post i shriveled up into my shell and didn’t check ao3 for days because i guess i assumed i was going to get a bunch of “boo, this isn’t how i pictured it!” comments right outta the gate. so i maybe had half of this scene done before i knew i’d be publishing it. 

okay! thoughts are coming back!! i do remember toying with it taking longer for them to really talk -- but then i’d think of jimmy’s “gal singular, actually” after literally one week, and that didn’t seem like an option anymore 

She sways a little on her feet and Jimmy frowns. She looks, suddenly, tired.  

He can’t get a good read on her.

And then, as if she can hear his thoughts, Kim surprises him again by asking, “So how was your first day?”

always loved the thought of jimmy managing to suss out everyone in the mailroom/HHM except kim. especially thinking about where they end up i.e. the only people able to really read each other 

and here’s kim feeling comfortable enough to relax in his presence after she’s seen a full day of mullet-wearing stamp-licking embellished-story-telling jimmying. 

with these early interactions i was always trying to like, balance things. so like, this scene isn’t just jimmy badgering her. she starts up the convo again now. she’s curious. he’s new. 

Jimmy nods. “Good. Printed a lot of things, licked a lot of stamps. My tongue’s already dying!”

“…Yes, that’s the worst,” Kim says, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

kim is NOT gonna tell him about the sponge, she wants to watch the himbo lick stamps. cheap entertainment 

His voice echoes hollowly in the garage. “I thought you were a lawyer. This morning."

Kim nods. “That explains the ‘give them hell’.”

i used to have a super timeline breaking julia roberts joke in here, rip to it

A worse version of him would look at this woman working all day in a mailroom and somehow finding time to study for a law degree and think that she’s a sucker—that there must be some easier way to do it, some short cut, some cheat. But Jimmy can remember when Chuck was off at Georgetown, younger than all his peers but you wouldn’t know it to look at him, and already so busy he could barely make it home for family holidays.

He can’t imagine Chuck delivering mail or two-hole punching documents for hours on end.

He can’t imagine having that kind of drive.

this seemed like such an impossible challenge at the start of this fic. the idea that jimmy would respect someone doing something the really hard way, the really long way, LET ALONE that within a year or two he’d literally be doing it himself

it’s absolutely bonkers. 

but i think there’s something to him seeing the difference between the kim way and the chuck way. the chuck way is just kinda like magic. of course chuck can do that. but seeing kim working day in and day out, being next to it, i dunno! i think there’s a weird thing that would make the much harder way actually seem more achievable to jimmy 

“Something about the law being the most important invention in the history of civilization, I think,” Jimmy says. “Mankind’s greatest achievement.” He gives a short chuckle. “I don’t get it.”

chuck’s been delivering pieces of his chicanery breakdown for years

“You don’t?” Kim asks. “I thought you were here—” She catches herself and stops. “Sorry. Almost asked a personal question myself.”

thought you were howard 2.0, here to make name partner in a year 

Kim snorts quietly. She drops her cigarette and stamps it with her heel. “It’s the new environmental policies they’re rolling out. No more flushing.”

Jimmy grins delightedly and finishes his own cigarette.

ah, bonding over toilet jokes

also of course giving jimmy one of his best ideas 💩💩💩

Kim nods in acknowledgement and then disappears into the darkness.

But Jimmy can hear her long after she vanishes, heels clicking metrically on the concrete floor.

i wish i’d had a better grip on mailroom kim and the thought that she probably wouldn’t wear heels, but i do really like how this scene ends. thesis statement for the whole show. gal singular, actually. even when she’s gone she’s never really gone. 

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[sasuhinasno1fan]

White Day confession

@searleine hi, I’m your Secret Santa for @voltronsecretsanta! I’ll be honest and did plan on writting a different fic, but I got really busy so I still hope you enjoy this. I got the idea from the DNAngel episode when we find out Disake’s parents. Happy Holidays and enjoy!

Lance squeezed past the gate right before the security guard closed it, dashing to the shoe lockers. He opened his, barely paying attention to the notes that came falling out. He quickly changed his shoes and scooped up the letters, running off to his class. He barely made it through the door before the bell rang. Mr. Shirogane, shook his head, waving him off to his seat. There were a few gifts on his desk that he shoved inside where his books were along with the notes.

“Alright everyone. We have a few announcements before classes start, but first, happy White’s Day.”

White’s Day, March 13, the companion holiday to Valentine’s Day. In their town, the took the white part seriously, giving people white items as presents. Of course, usually the girls would get gifts on White’s Day, but Lance seemed to be special. Maybe it was because he misunderstood the holidays when he first moved down to Japan. He thought he was supposed to give stuff on Valentines and then receive on White’s Day. Even as he went to different schools, the trend still followed, Lance McClain was gifted a white item from his admires on White Day. Usually he’d smile through it, getting very used to his large fan club. He was a foreign guy who looked nice, part of the swim team and genuine a nice guy. Girls liked that and crowding around him. After a while of pretty shallow crushes, he started to get bored. He liked the idea of White Day, a day where you could tell a person how you feel and all the pressure wasn’t forced on Valentine’s. Plus…last year he received the best present.

It was such a simple one. The main reason it caught his attention was because of how simple it was compared to the rest of the gifts he received. A handmade white and blue bracelet. There was no name, no flowery letter, no immediate cry to be noticed. It was a simple gift that he was meant to enjoy and he did. He wore it since the day he got it. He hoped by the end of the day, he might receive another, or even better, meet the person who just wanted to give him a gift. A really selfish part of him hoped it was that guy from the train. Since he started high school, there was a guy on the same train as him. He attended the private high schools, based on the uniform. He looked like he didn’t belong though. He had long hair, a mullet. It was usually pulled back into a ponytail, allowing the many earrings on his ears to be seen. In the warmer months where he was in his summer uniform, he had a very visible tattoo on his arm, an odd-looking symbol. He’d seen the older train riders turn their noses up at it, but something about it – who was he kidding, everything about him drew Lance’s attention. He wanted to talk to him but he was always so nervous. He might look like a rebel but he could easily be snobby and rude and Lance only had so much self confidence to deal with people like that. Maybe be could finally pluck up the courage to do it today.

He let out a yawn, feeling too slow to cover his mouth. Assuming he didn’t fall asleep on the train. He had stayed back at school late for practise and there was a good chance of that happening again. He was hoping that the captain having a girlfriend would keep him too busy to call for practise. He also had a headache. All these late nights were starting to catch up to him. It was fine though, all he had to do was get through today.

                                                   ____________

“Wow.” Rachel said as she watched Hunk help Lance bring in his White Day gifts. She also noticed her brother was pouting, but she knew it couldn’t be because of the gifts. He had gotten used to the large amount received on Valentine’s and White Day years ago. They would usually be regifted to family members. “is it bigger this year?”

“Does it matter?” Lance sulked, dropping the items in the living room and stomping off to his room.

Rachel raised an eyebrow at Hunk, who tugged at the orange ribbon tied around his wrist. At first, she was confused. He used the ribbon to push his bangs back if need be. Then she understood. It wasn’t the ribbon, but it being around his wrist, like the unnamed bracelet around Lance’s. if he was sulking, then…no unnamed gift came.

While her mother came in, greeting Hunk and offering him food, while marvelling over the gifts, she went up to Lance’s room. He’s unpacking his bag, putting books for homework in the middle and making sure he pulled out his swim stuff to get washed. She noticed he kept rubbing at his wrist. The bracelet is missing.

“So, where is it?”

“My bag. I didn’t get to put it back on after practise.” He pulled it out from the bottom of his bag and sets it on the desk. “Not that it matters. There was nothing new from them.”

“Can’t be the only reason.” He seemed even more upset for no gift giver to not show up.

“Remember that guy I talked to you about? The guy from the private school on the train? Guess what I was hoping to do today, if he was actually there?”

“He wasn’t there?” Rachel had heard more than enough about this guy, Lance talked enough about him, about the small things he noticed and how cute he looked. She was hoping to one day here he got up the courage to go talk to him but of course things couldn’t be that easy.

“And if that’s not enough, I’ve got a huge paper to finish, because our English teacher is horrible.”

“Hey, at least you can speak the language. I guess you also forgot about babysitting duty tonight?” any other time, she would have taken over for her younger brother, but she had a date with the guy from her college she’d been crushing on for weeks. She wasn’t about to give that up.

Lance groaned. “I’m going back downstairs. I saw macaroons, and I’m not letting Hunk eat them.”

“Hey, I know this sucks now, but think about it this way. If the person who gave you gift doesn’t think you’re worth it, that’s on them. and as for the guy on the train, if he’s really a rebel, he’ll realise how amazing you are, even if you take a bit more time to go talk to him.”

“Yeah, here’s hoping.”

                                                _______________

Lance was drained. The kids thankfully only had an hour of going insane before they calmed down and he was able to get them to bed, but with how tired he was, Japanese, Spanish and English were all messing around in his head. It took twice as long to finish his assignment, not to mention the text from the captain about practise in the morning. Lance didn’t love taking the train early, cause it was always packed. His usual time wasn’t as bad, but being chained off for a while so the platform wasn’t packed with people like it was the last train, was something he could do without. He yawned, ready to take a nap, even if it took 30 minutes to get to school, but it was either sleep on the train, or stay home and sleep and deal with annoyed and anger swim captain.

“Alright, this way please.” The barricade was moved and the station staff waved the group of people up the stairs, to take their places in the correct areas. Lance was able to get a spot near the front under his area. Usually he’d people watch, take note of the different groups, but his eyes kept slipping shut. And his sight was doubling and moving? Or was that him?

“Look out!” something grabbed his arm and yanked him, just as the sound of the train registered. He landed on a firm chest, that took him as he felt his legs give out. He blinked, to realise the train was pulling into the station and station staff were quickly approaching him. Had he been so tired he almost…? “Are you ok?”

He looked behind him and there he was. The private school student, the one he shared the train rides with. He noticed his eyes were dark, kinda like gems.

“Sir? Are you alright?” a staff member asked

“yeah. Yeah, sorry. I felt dizzy.”

He was helped up and the staff directed them to the station office. Lance felt his legs tingling, like he’d walked too much after being lazy for a while.

“Do you still feel dizzy?” the private school guy asked.

“A bit.”

He watched him stand up and dig into his pants pocket, pulling out a wallet. And something else.

“I can go get you some water.” But Lance wasn’t paying attention to that. He pulled the white and blue bracelet from the guy’s hand.

“This is…”

Like a light switch, the guys face went red and he looked embarrassed. He was kept from saying anything as another staff member came in with cups of water and a sugary snack for Lance. They wanted him to stay until he didn’t feel dizzy before letting them call his school to let them know what happened.

They were left alone and Lance sat waiting. The guy could have run off the moment he had a chance, but he sat there, sitting still.

“My name’s Keith. I’ve seen you on the train for almost 2 years now and I’ve wanted to talk to you. you’ve got quite a name for yourself. Even people in my school have heard of you. last year, I had a gift get taken to your school and when I saw you wearing it the next day, I almost went over and told you it was me, but I chickened out. So I said this year, I’d do like a big gesture to give it to you.”

“except you messed that up by pulling it out with your wallet.” Lance pointed out, laughing. Keith’s face got redder and he pouted. “So why a bracelet?”

“Well, you got so much stuff from what I understood and I don’t know. Something small and simple seemed to fit you. I mean, I can tell that bag is old. The mascot you have on it really faded, so you’ve had it for a long time.” He said, nodding to the dolphin plush he had on his bag. “the sleeves on the hoodie you wear in the winter months have frayed edges, but it’s not like you can’t afford to get a new one, you just wearing to death. I wanted to give you something you’d have for a long time. So, yeah.”

Lance felt happy to know that Keith seemed to notice things about him, like he’d done to Keith.

“Can you help me put it on?” Lance handed Keith the bracelet back and gave him his wrist, ready and waiting. His chest felt fluttery as Keith tied the bracelet around his wrist, right on top of the old one. “So, I might just end up walking home and sleeping for the next couple hours, but we have half day tomorrow for that national teacher training thing. What about you?”

“No school.”

“So, if you’re up for it, why don’t you come pick me up from school and we can go hang out? Maybe as a date?”

“Yeah, that sounds good to me. I’ll make sure to catch you again if you end up fainting.”

“Who knows, cute guy, great day? It might be in the cards.”

[splendidshinobi]

FULLMETAL ALCHEMIST 2003 LIVE REACT: EPISODES 26-30

been awhile since i’ve watched but.... another day, another emotional rollercoaster 

episode 26: her reason

who’s her and what’s her reason

bother him ALLLLL you want maria ross...bother him all day long

he deserves it

INVOICE HAHAHAHAHA

dont yell at maria fuck off!!!! 

GIRLY WHAT IS IZUMI DOING!!!!!!!! 

i screamed i did

i love sig and izumi sm!!!!!!

omg ed and al’s faces

PANINYAAAAAAA

why does she have an automail arm whAT

i feel almost insulted for paninya’s dope weapon legs

oh wait ive seen this arm wrestling scene before lmao

go paninya goooo

i do not tolerate this mr dominic slander

OH NO DO NOT INSULT QUEEN WINRY’S WORK

sucks to suck!!!!

i do think winry may have just fallen in love

ed is such a simp though

JUMBO????? his name iS JUMBO??????

al’s mousy little what?

yikes yeah you know what winry id be pissed too

she felt so good about her work!!!

crush over

jk theyre soulmates

wow roy ur so smart

damn oh ok they kept paninya’s legs too

so she only has 1 biological limb wow

paninya is definitely a lesbian 

we’ve all known that though i mean-----the camo pants

i saw paninya wearing army pants and flip flops, so i bought army pants and flip flops

oh my god winry you DEVIOUS BASTARD

i can see why people ship paninya and winry but im sorry im an edwin simp

young pinako is hot i get it dominic

OH MY GOD DEVIOUS

WINRY LMAO

GUN LEGS!

kill him?? pANINYA think about that before you shoot someone!!! 

AWWWWWW ED!!!! “best automail in the world!!!!” IM CRYING

“hello sir” alphonse you sweet boy

sheska u good???

OPE HEY CURTISES

ed why are you sad

omg winry dont cry!!!! 

hahahaha sig

THE BOYS’ FACES LMAO

episode 27: teacher

izumi time lets gooooooooooooo

the ominous music lolololol

THE WINDOW

WHERE IS ALPHONSE

HA

RIGHT THERE

ED’S FUCKING FACE HAHAHAHA

grumman!!!!!

STEW TONIGHT FUCK YEAH

xerxes drop

edward you are being so foreboding

izumi queen of my life lets go girl!!!

umbrella king sig curtis!!!

ed you dumbass!!!!!

angry face boys

mom dad and the kids on the train!!!! makes me cry

awww win’s gonna miss the dudes

omg havoc plzzzz

why is he calling riza like she doesnt already know shes going too

do not leave my boy falman behind!!!

oh good ok

mason my dude!!!

“yes maam”

this is UNCOMFORTABLE

guys i simp for sig tbh

omg al scary boy

uh oh she SAWWWWWWW you!!!

aww i forgot about the dead cat goddamnit

not THE KITTY

ok but those baby kittens need some MELK

its all over for you two watch out

cant hide JACK SHIT from mama bear

yikes

she gonna kick your ass oof

hugs oh thats nice

episode 28: all is one, one is all

island timeeee

wait theyre on island time PART 2???? ok

the way sig’s HAND---- anyway

ok so creepy naked child??

im suspicious

clearly the boys didnt read my hero academia 

or the three musketeers

al really got YEETED

yote?

oh the kid has clothes on. leaf clothes

i know dublith is in the “south” but is it really a tropical locale?

aww the bunny

“kill it”

owie hope you dont get rabies edward

the ost man so good for both series

al really said J’ACCUSE

they didnt know the masked man was mason the first time around? aight

im really having trouble typing and eating dumplings at the same time

might pause for a dumpling break

i made these in the microwave theyre pretty good

def not the best ive had but they were, ya know, microwaved

anyways sad al hours

YOU THOUGHT THAT WAS YOUR BROTHER????

it’s the circle of life simba

getting REAL philosophical rn

“dont call me small”

now we’re getting REAL scientific

im just imagining these idiots on shrooms rn

mannnnnnnnnnnn

WAIT IMAGINE LING YAO ON SHROOMS

wow what a yummy snake breakfast

izumi said 👁 👄 👁

izumi is so hot

that is the creepiest motherfucker i ever did see

ok im gonna go rinse this dish out be back in a min!!!

episode 29: the untainted child

i am the tainted adult

you SURE his parents are lookin?

i feel like izumi is being very loving towards this child

what happened to tough love bbygirl

im not saying shes not loving in her ways but shouldnt she by nature be a litttttleeee bit more sus of this kid???

dont tell me

this is sig and izumi’s “child”

theory pending

winry is such a protective lil egg

here’s whats cookin in my head

its sig and izumi’s child and ed’s arm and leg smooshed together into a homunculus...theory still pending but im definitely right

WHY DOES SIG SLEEP W HIS EYES OPEN SIR!!!!!!!

whole situation is a mess my dudes

what did u do kid????? 

“i know ed lies sometimes”

l oh fucking l

who transmutes themselves with a bed though

not the move kid

OPE

of course winry slept through this whole thing

sheska and elicia and gracia. my heart.

did the colonel just LEAVE HER BEHIND? god what a dick

sheska WENT OFFFFFFFF!!!!!!

yes maam!!!!!!!

u tell that dumbass!!!!!!

why does envy have to sit like that

gon make me SIMP

embarrassing

*debby ryan hair tuck meme*

i love the way al sits

hes so dainty

what a gent

oh that lil kid was in the gate!!!!

how a homunculus is born? please tell me more

ARCHER....my sister was texting me about him when she asked how far i was. i googled him i saw his....bod....

yup

ARM AND LEG CONFIRMED

my brain waves are unparalleled

ED REALLY JUST YEETED WINRY AND KABEDONED THE HOMUNCULUS

EDWARD STOPPPPPPPPPPPPP OMG

off goes the kid

BIDOOOOOOOOOOO <3

why is she upset??? what did you realize izumi

that its your baby??? probs

im just that smart

episode 30: assault on south headquarters

YOKI LMAO

seeing yoki and scar makes me miss mei chang

MEI CHANG SUPREMACY

yoki really about to snitch

BIDOOOOOO

everyone showing up this episode

greed is gonna roll up with a venti frappuccino any minute now

archer is a creep

is this footage from the arnold classic?

“the muscles did the talking for them”

archer is a creep

who ru calling a freak HAHA AL’s angwy voice

ope

how IS hughes doing

pls not the pain

how did this kid come into the corporeal world

armstrong what

OUROBOROS

so he’s either wrath or pride ig

i dont think bradley is a homunculus in this one

yoki is basically michael yagoobian aka the bowler hat guy

there’s greed lmao 

with the ladies

EW NO PLEASE GOD

I DONT WANT ANY MORE SHOU TUCKER

KIMBLEE WHAT

WHAT THE FUCK WHO CUT HIS HAIR LIKE THAT

WHO ALLOWED THAT I AM CHOKING

NOT THE MULLET PONYTAIL

izumi taking on the military

of course

kimblee JESUS 

bradley is EVERYWHERE at ALL TIMES

this is rOUGH

there are so many parties vying for the kid

i still cant get over kimblee like WHAT

WHAT IS HIS PURPOSE HERE

AGAIN it just seems like bradley is everywhere at all times

[letterstothemidnightsociety]

It’s crossroads and psychics and shipping, OH MY! Join me as I continue one millennial’s journey to discover why a show about beefcakes and demons managed to last on network television for over a decade. It’s Supernatural! 

So now that we’re in the thick of it, there are two moves that the writing team of Supernatural pulled that make a season 2 work, or, more specifically, work for me. The first is that rather than Level Up their heroes, they allow our heroes to lose, and I discussed that in my last post. Now we don’t know what’s gonna happen - they didn’t defeat the bad guy, their ace up their sleeve (John) is dead, and they don’t even have wheels to roll around anymore. 

Equally important, the second thing they do at the top of season 2 is World Build. I’ve read this article from Emily VanDerWerff at Vox like, 8 times so I’m just gonna go ahead and quote her directly:

Season two of a great drama usually finds a way to explain why the show isn’t just a story about the protagonist but a story about a whole cast and a whole world. With the premise having been thoroughly explored in season one, the show, by necessity, has to start looking for other ways to tell stories. This usually means turning to the other characters within the ensemble... but it can sometimes mean pivoting to explore a new corner of the show’s setting ...or diving further into core themes...

Side note: I know few TV critics by name but I find Emily VanDerWerff’s tv and media analysis to be particularly insightful and brilliant and if she ever reads anything I write about TV, I just want her to know it. Definitely go read/listen to some of her stuff at Vox.

So let’s break that down, shall we? The job of season one on a television drama (which SPN undoubtedly is), is to set up the show as a story about a hero(es) (which SPN season 1 undoubtedly does). We know the Winchester Brothers. We know their wants, we know their obstacles, we know their pressure points and triggers, they’re standard MO’s. We’ve seen them move as a cohesive unit against a big antagonist and with the start of season 2, we get to see how they handle failure at the hands of that antagonist. 

But now season 2 has a bigger job: “explain why the show isn’t just a story about the protagonist but a story about a whole cast and a whole world.” As fun as it’s been riding with Sam and Dean across the country, that Impala does start to feel a little claustrophobic. We’re so focused on just these two characters that it’s hard to believe there’s a great wide world out there. Now, I call it claustrophobic now, but the chemistry between our two leads was definitely enough to carry the show without 3rd or 4th or 5th wheels through that first season and possibly future seasons. I was certainly happy to stick with just Sam and Dean for another 13 seasons when I watched this show for the first time back in 2008/2009. But after many years and many more TV shows, I understand that that model can’t be sustainable for the long haul. And that’s the goal, isn’t it? To get to a season five (and the sweet, sweet payday that is syndication) or farther. If your only regulars in series are two brothers and a car, that’s gonna get a little stale, at least for a broad audience anyway. And frankly, watching season 2 now and knowing what I know about the rest of the series, I’m excited to see new Found Family members show. If there’s one running theme throughout all 15 seasons it’s that Sam’s and Dean’s lives are deeply, tragically lonely.

So the writing team opens up a whole wide hunting world for our brothers to reside in - first with Bobby (AKA Poppa Hunter), then with The Roadhouse. But Bobby plus The Roadhouse crew don’t just expand on the SPN Scooby Gang. They show us, the audience, that Sam and Dean aren’t actually two lone guns out in the wilderness. Sure, season one gives us Missouri Mosely and then the deaths of Caleb and Pastor Jim, but these characters seem few and far between, unconnected to each other except by chance meetings with John Winchester. Introducing the new characters in season 2 shows us that there’s a network, a community out there, one that works together to stem the tide of evil from overtaking the Normals and their Apple Pie Lives. 

Quick side note: Can we talk about how this, specifically, was a real disservice John did to his children? In “Everybody Loves a Clown”, Ellen tells Dean that she knew John was closing in on the demon and Dean responds “What, was there an article in the Demon Hunters Quarterly that I missed?”, and that’s probably a throwaway line for the joke, but it inadvertently signals that John really kept his sons isolated from having any kind of life at all. Sure, nobody wants the life of a hunter, but what if you had, oh, a community of hunters who took care of each others’ children and called people out on their bullshit abusive behaviors and watched each others’ backs so that there were fewer casualties and also were there so you could talk about all those things that Sam and Dean have spent their entire lives keeping secret from everyone? Ellen says John was like family once, and, like, whut? Why doesn’t Sam or Dean know who any of these people are? Why isn’t there a team trying to take down this yellow eyed demon? Why is it that Sam and Dean have, like, no support system other than their father?? I mean there probably IS a Demon Hunters Quarterly and John should have gotten his boys a subscription! 

Of course, the Wider Hunting World isn’t all good guys like Bobby and Ellen and Jo and Ash. There’s also Gordon and Dean’s new Father Substitute, who’s a straight up psychopath, but they can’t all be winners, can they? That episode, as mentioned in my last post, also opens up the world of Team Monster - they’re not just mindless Evil devouring innocent victims. There’s also people out there with hearts and souls and consciousness’ who happen to have monster-like physical attributes, making the Winchesters’ mission that much more complex and fraught with drama and the potential for more storytelling opportunities.

And, in “Simon Said”, we start to see more of the Special Children, which is a fandom term that I do not like. Special Children? Special Children?? THAT’S what you went with?!? Anyway, we get the second instance of 20 year olds touched by the yellow-eyed-demon. There’s new abilities, stronger psychics, and just generally more to these children than Sam and Dean even knew existed. And I actually really love Andy a lot and really enjoyed this episode a lot. Andy is just an instantly likable character and I feel like, with his skill set, he could have been a real asset to the team. I mean, the guys get arrested by the feds at least once a season. But apparently Kripke decided, like, two episodes into the Special Children plot that he hated it and *spoiler alert* kills them all by the end of this season. 

Just looking at the three other episodes on the same disc as “Simon Said” (yes, I am still watching the DVDs) I’d say “Crossroad Blues” is another expansion episode. Though it was hinted at in the first episode, the Crossroad Deal is now A Thing, and one that’s gonna come back to bite us later. So our lore is getting bigger, deeper, more involved in the plot. “The Usual Suspects” doesn’t do a whole lot of expanding the world, but that one feels more like filler/light fare to balance out the drama from the first 6 episodes anyway. I’ll add that even though it doesn’t have a lot to offer, “The Usual Suspects” is an A+ episode that does a great job of remixing the formula. 

But back to our World Building - At the end of “Simon Said,” you get another taste of what this life should be for Sam and Dean. When Dean starts to pull the same secretive crap his father did, Ellen cuts back “This isn't just your war, this is war. Now, something big and bad's coming and it's coming fast, and their side holds all the cards. Now, at best all we got is us. Together. No secrets or half-truths here.” REALLY, John, you could have gone about your whole life of vengeance in a way that didn’t royally screw up your children and yet…

But Ellen’s complaint sums it up nicely - this show isn’t just about the Winchesters anymore, it’s not their war, it’s a whole world’s war, a world that the show now has the opportunity to explore and expand to their hearts’ content. 

And here’s where things get sticky. 

Like I said, the first go around, I was happy with only two protagonists and now that I worry about characters’ feelings, I’m really glad that the show tried to expand the Winchesters’ social circle for you know, mental and emotional and spiritual wholeness. And all the new characters that got introduced at the beginning of season two are generally well-liked characters...now.

I mean, nobody didn’t like Bobby Singer, right? The boys lose one father figure and he is replaced by another - better, stronger, more paternal than the one before. He’s the perfect blend of back country tough love and big ol’ softie and everybody loves Bobby, right? 

I don’t think anyone hated Ash either, although, you know, he’s kind of barely there. I gotta say, I do appreciate the amount of mullets that show up in the show. I mean, that’s commitment to a bit right there. Ash is their Guy in the Chair and he’s ridiculous and I am not ashamed to admit that I kind of love him.

Then there’s Ellen. Ellen “Definitely Didn’t Sleep With John That One Time” Harvelle. And she is GREAT. She comes right out of the gate with that Big Mom Energy. Ellen is your mom, if your mom could also drink you under the table and still shoot you between the eyes without spilling her glass. A+ job on this character, would recommend, would watch again. Why she disappears for so long, I’ll never know, but it’s probably some kind of bullshit reason that has to do with misogyny and “bad” attitudes and unequal pay. 

Honestly, in a sea of testosterone, there emerged a much needed island of femininity, and that island was The Roadhouse. But The Roadhouse also brings us Jo. 

Oof. You guys. Now listen, I’m gonna say a thing and that thing might be controversial but here goes: there is nothing wrong with Jo. I’ll say it louder so that Me back in 2008 can hear: THERE. IS. NOTHING. WRONG. WITH. JO. 

I’ve done a little digging and it seems the “official” complaint for Jo is that she comes off too naive, too innocent. I...do not agree. At least one site I read through says fans called her “immature”, but watching it this time around, she’s light and bubbly, sure, but she seems very much aware of the world she lives in. If anything, it’s the people around her who treat her like a child, it’s not the character herself who comes off that way. This watch, I see a character who is confident and pretty damn capable. I think “No Exit” shows a character who is maybe more fully realized than I gave her credit for the first go around - she’s tough, she knows how to handle herself in a fight, and she’s quick on her feet. But she’s also a human person, capable of making mistakes and getting in over her head and we see her deal with that once she’s captured by Holmes. She holds her own in both Sass and Skill against Dean and I think, at the very least, she could have made a good addition to the team on a regular basis. She makes a nice foil for both brothers - Sam, who never wanted this life, and Dean, who is already struggling to remember why he does what he does. Given time, I think her character could have settled into something that really stood out in the show. But that’s the problem with new characters who are written to be green - they need time to grow. Supernatural never gave her that time. 

I think the REAL problem is that Jo is very obviously introduced to be a love interest for Dean and yeah, that feels pretty shoe-horned in there. But I think we have to hand it to Alona Tal - she really is doing the best she can with the material she’s given, considering that the writing team seems to have done very little work on fleshing that character out up front. It’s like the writers were shocked that they had to write? A person? And not? A sex appeal????? And that feels very on-brand for CW. 

Do I ship Jo and Dean? I don’t know. My OTP at 19 was Dean + Me, so I’m real thankful I had no interest in writing fic at the time and there’s no incriminating author-insert work out there. But if asked me to chose an OTP for this entire series now, I’d say I ship Dean and Happiness and I feel like these two could have been happy. 

But fans hated Jo, so much so that the writers completely abandoned the love interest subplot and all but wrote her out of the show for good. She was not well liked in 2006 when this season aired and according to several fan sites I looked through, attitudes towards her didn’t warm up until she comes back in season five, basically just to die. Sure, she sacrifices her own life to save Sam and Dean, but she literally comes back to be cannon fodder and that’s what changes peoples’ attitudes towards her. Listen, I’m not saying there isn’t some weird gross misogyny to talk about down the line, but I think we have to acknowledge that this fandom is also guilty of some real girl-on-girl crime. 

Now I was curious - what was it exactly that so many fans hated? Why was the backlash against this character particularly passionate? And boy guys, did I find an answer.

I knew this was coming. I knew I couldn’t avoid it. And I’m not happy about it. But I said I was gonna dive into this show and you can’t dive into SPN without acknowledging the darker spots of the show and one of those spots is: Wincest. 

I just. Hoo boy. Listen, I am a Ship and Let Ship person. My kink is not your kink, your kink is not my kink, and we can all still get along. At least I hope we can all still get along, cuz fandom is occasionally terrifying and I don’t want anyone coming after me. But also, I did not realize...that they were so...prevalent? Like, seriously. I am very glad that I never actually used LiveJournal as I intended to use LiveJournal because 19-year-old me was not READY for that kind of Fandom. 

And hey I...understand why this happened? Sort of? Like, for all of season one, this show is only about two VERY attractive men folk who have VERY good chemistry with each other. And I will admit, in the spirit of honesty, that I too disliked Jo because I felt that introducing a girlfriend character would destroy the brother-character dynamic that was the heart and soul of the show. And I don’t want to dig too deeply into that sense memory because I don’t know that I like where it leads. 

But where this becomes a real problem is the implication that Jo was written out of the show because it interfered with the Wincest community? The idea that the Wincesters had that much power is chilling. Chilling. I mean, it’s one thing for a creator to take their fans into consideration when creating, it’s another thing entirely when the fandom makes a major plot point disappear. I mean, I don’t know what Alona Tal’s contract for season 2 was, but I do know that contracting for actors on a television series is affected by how many episodes they appear in. The number of episodes you’re in is also tied to things like pay rates (like those mandated by SAG) and where your name goes in the credits (top billing vs. end credits) Are you a guest star or a recurring character? Are you recurring or a series regular? Now, as a new character, it’s probable that Alona Tal was considered a guest star/recurring role and contract was per episode and not by the season - after all, that’s how the majority of the cast of The Office worked for all of season 1 and most of season 2. Angela, Oscar, Kevin, Meredith, Creed, Stanley, Phylis - they were all recurring characters, only contracted for each episode as it was being produced and they were in way more episode than Tal had in SPN. In fact, it was not until half way through season 2 (episode 11, “Booze Cruise”) that they were promoted to series regulars and received season-long contracts. But as the love interest for their lead, she was probably hired with the promise of getting promoted to series regular at some point in the future. Now imagine being Alona Tal, and finding out three episodes in that you’re not getting that season-long contract and you’re probably not coming back for season 3 because the fanbase is more into Brother-Lovin’ than your character. I mean. Guys.

Now can we really say that the Wincesters derailed a woman’s career? I don’t want to believe it, so I’m gonna say no. I am sure there was a lot of testing the character in key demographics and screenings with diverse audiences and graphs and charts and it wasn’t just that the producers of the show were endlessly scrolling through message boards on LiveJournal to see what kinks the fandom was into. I’m sure that was not the case because that is not the world I want to live in. But also, it definitely seems to have played a part. A REAL part. 

So let’s move back to television structure instead - why is this world building important? The key lies in a lot of the “prestige” shows that stream today. A lot of them have really strong first seasons, but a sophomore slump in their second seasons. Emily VanDerWerff calls out Stranger Things specifically, which had a tight, streamlined story that wrapped up so nicely at the end of season 1 that season 2 was left to flounder, trying to find its feet and its new story to tell. And they're not the only ones - this is a trend we see in a lot of premise driven shows.

How did we get here?The trend in shorter seasons has been really appealing to a lot of writers and directors who would typically work for feature length films. That means that a lot of the best shows are being written more like long-form movies than television series. The first season is a complete storyline from beginning to end with little deviation from the Main Quest. There’s less wandering like you’d see in a 22 episode season. Less of those filler/self-contained episodes where the writers get to explore new concepts and character work. This leaves less to detract from the single stream-lined story, but it also leaves little for the writers to explore once the season is done. When you wrap up all the loose ends by your season finale, you’re stuck wondering what’s left of the story to tell in future seasons? By not wrapping up the loose ends in “Devil’s Trap”, and by using these first 8 episodes to expand on more lore, allies, and world to inhabit, SPN is able to make space to create more story for years to come. 

NOW - can they keep that up for the next 14 seasons or will it get boring? Will we end up with comically overpowered heroes and villains that result in lower stakes? I mean, all of the characters die at LEAST once and come back, so how can SPN sustain the audiences’ concern for the characters when we’re never that worried for them? How much of the world is there left unexplored as you get farther into the series? How are they going to keep plots and arcs and characters new and fresh and exciting when we’re so familiar with everyone and everything? So many questions and so many episodes left to answer them! 

[staticscreenwriting]

To the stars beyond the blue - one

Summary: Kathleen Sawyer has a problem with authority and people telling her what to do, especially if “people” is her Stepdad Dave. Having had enough of her attitude, Dave and her mom decide it’s time for her to leave behind the temptations of New York City and learn some responsibility while staying with her aunt Susan in small, sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Though what neither of them know, is that the biggest temptation is waiting for her right there and it comes with a mullet and a killer smile.

This is gonna be an 18+ series. I’m planning to add quite a bit of smut, swearing and topics that could potentially be triggering to some people (domestic abuse - physical and emotional). The abuse will not be romanticized, I promise you that. Just be aware that these themes will be mentioned and explored. 

next chapter >>

Chapter one - meet Kathleen

Ron’s Deli smells like old grease and cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights send a loud buzzing noise through the entire place. There’s an assortment of sandwiches displayed, though I know better than to order any of them. Coffee, that’s what I’m here for. Coffee and warmth.

My boots, still wet from the snow covering the streets outside, make a squeaking sound against the linoleum floor that alerts Ruby who’s slumped over the counter, flicking through some kind of fashion magazine. 

“ Haven’t seen you in a while “ she murmures, eyes focusing back on the magazine, making no attempt to actually take my order. 

“ Some of us actually work, you know “ I reply. That’s not even close to the truth and Ruby knows this just as well as I do. But neither of us acknowledges it because that’s not the relationship we have. I don’t want to talk about it and she doesn’t care. So we settle for superficial quips. 

“ Bite me, Kathleen. “ 

“ Nah thanks, you know my rules. No food at Ron’s. Just coffee “ 

“ Just coffee “ she repeats then turns around and grabs the pot and pours me a big mug of steaming hot coffee.

“ Thanks. Put it on my tab. “ 

She always nods but never actually does. I don’t think I’ve paid for my coffee in years.

I drag myself towards my booth in the furthest corner of the place. I call it my booth but if we’re being overly correct I have to mention that I do, in fact, not have ownership of this particular booth. It’s just the one I always find myself in. Have done so for years.

The tv mounted up in the corner is playing some black and white christmas movie. The volume is too low to hear anything being said but I can tell the movie after a few seconds. Miracle on 34th street. I remember watching it with my dad when I was a kid. He was always big about old black and white movies. 

I never told him but I don’t really like it. There’s a thing about Christmas movies where even though most of them have happy endings, a lot of them always make you feel miserable for a huge amount of the runtime. It’s like “look at this sad person ON CHRISTMAS. Then remember how lucky you are. Because you too could be sad. ON CHRISTMAS “.

It’s very preachy and if I’m being honest, I don’t see the appeal of movies that purposely make me sad. 

Back then I wasn’t really aware of what it feels like to be sad on Christmas. I do now. It’s like they describe it in the movies only 10 times worse. Because there’s no happy ending waiting for you after 120 minutes. It just goes on and leads to a sad new years and a sad spring and a sad summer.

“ Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind...  “ oh fuck right of, Kris you absolute bullshitter.

The bell above the door pulls me from my Christmas blues and I watch a couple stumble into the shop. They’re smiling, holding hands. The dude can’t seem to keep his lips of her neck. She walks up to the counter. I can only imagine Ruby’s annoyed sigh and the roll of her eyes.

“ Hi, two turkey delis please “ the girl says between giggles. I feel kinda bad for her. She must be a tourist. Locals know not to eat at Ron’s. Only coffee. Iced tea in the summer. That’s it.

Ruby grumbles something to them before they settle down in the booth across from me. Well there goes me sulking in silence. I try to ignore their loved up giggles as the warm coffee makes its way down my throat. I really try not to pay them any attention. But once I notice his hand squeezing her boobs, that’s enough to make even me uncomfortable.

I take one last sip then scoot out of the boot hand walk towards Ruby. She’s resorted from flipping through the magazine to using the magazine as a underlay while she paints her nails right there on the counter. Another reason not to eat here. 

“ So what do you say, do I suit this color ? “ She asks and holds a hand out for me to see. She always paints them red, every single time. Apparently they’re all different shades though so far I’ve been unable to see even the slightest difference.

“ Sure. “ 

“ Thanks for the enthusiasm.” 

“ You’re welcome. Anyway, I’m going to head out. Thanks for the coffee. “

Ruby looks up again then throws a disapproving look at the couple that is pretty much dry humping each other at this point “ did the lovebirds scare you off ? Disgusting. “ 

“ Let them be, they’re in love. “ 

She scoffs at that then goes back to her nails “ of course you’d think that. You’re just as bad. “ 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ Means I’ve seen you at parties. With guys. It’s uh — quite something really. “ 

“ Ah shut up, Ruby. “ I say and roll my eyes. It’s none of her business really. Though I know it doesn’t come from a place of malice, her words still rub me the wrong way. I have to remind myself that she’s just bitter. She should be married right now, living with her husband in some cute little house in Jersey, popping a few kids and living the suburban dream. Instead he fucked her sister at the rehearsal dinner and she’s left alone, bitter, sad and working at a really shitty deli.

“ Just sayin’ “ 

“ Mmh. Anyway tell your dad I said hi and to call me if he ever feels lonely. “ 

“ You’re vile. “ 

I only smile at that, pull my jacket closer around my body and step into the cold december air.

New York City is always busy. Always. People crowd the streets like ants on a popsicle forgotten on the lawn in a hot summer’s day. Though around christmas time, it feels like twice as many people flock to the city to catch a glimpse of what the perceived to be the ultimate manifestation of christmas magic.

The truth is, it’s cold and loud and crowded and if anything, it’s a perfect reminder just how materialistic we humans really are. If there’s anything to advertise, you’ll get it advertised here. They try to appeal to your innermost romantic. That girl that believes diamonds and flowers are a sign of true love. That kid that still holds faith in santa and miracles.

It makes me a little sick as I pass store after store, bustling with holiday shoppers. 

The further I walk the colder it gets. I tug my beanie further down my head, trying to keep my ears warm as I hop down the steps of the subway station. There’s an older man playing the violin while wearing a santa hat. I toss him a quarter and he gives me a smile and I feel like I’ve just earned a few karma points. Shiny gates, I’m coming for you.

It’s early december and New York is fucking freezing. It’s an all consuming kind of cold. The one you feel seeping through your body all the way to your bones. I wish I could say it goes away once I’m home and snuggled up in my bed. It doesn’t. It’s the kind of cold that stays with you. 

There’s a man eying me as I step on the train, he’s got bushy unkempt eyebrows and a mean mustache. His tongue licks at his bottom lip every few seconds. Like a deranged snake or something, only way creepier. I try to avoid eye contact. Eye contact it seems only works as a silent invitation to guys like him. 

From the corner of my eye I take notice of all his moves though. One has to be prepared always. I grab a hold of my keyes, let them stick out between my knuckles. I don’t know if he notices. I hope he does.

When the train pulls up at my stop, my heart speeds up a little. A silent mantra echoes through my head “please don’t get up. Please don’t get up.” It’s one thing being tough and brave when you’re in a train with many other people. It’s a whole different story when you’re passing through dark, deserted alleyways on your way home.

The trains stops and I wipe my sweaty hand on my jeans. He eyes me again as I step up to the doors. I’m still avoiding eye contact but at this point I can tell that he can tell. I can just about make out as his lips pull into a smirk. There’s nothing amusing about this situation, not to me at least. To think that he finds joy in this makes me physically sick.

The doors open and I step outside, a gust of cold wind hitting my face. I turn around and the doors close behind me and, to my delight, I can see him sitting in the same spot, looking at me through the dirty window of the train. He winks as the train pulls away and I can feel my lunch making its way up my throat again.

I can hear them yelling as I unlock the door. Dave’s voice thunders through the place, spewing expletives and hatred. 

“ Jesus Christ, Joan. What is wrong with you? Spending money on shit we don’t need but the one thing, the one thing I asked you to buy, you forget ? Are you really that fucking dumb ? “

My blood starts boiling though I know better than to step in. It only makes it worse.

Mom says sorry. So many times. Too many times. Her voice is timid and small and I hate that this is what he turns her into. When I was little mom was strong and brave and happy. She was creative and fun and adventurous. Now she’s but a shell of herself. An obedient little housewife who settles for a man that treats her like absolute dirt.

They look up at me as I enter the kitchen room and I can see fear in my mom’s eyes. I think that’s the worst thing. To see your mom scared. No kid should have to see their mom this scared. I wish I didn’t. 

“ Hi. “ 

“ Look who’s finally decided to show up. Where’ve you been ? “ Dave scoffs. He thinks just because my mom spreads her legs for him, he gets any say in what I do. Truth is, he doesn’t give a fuck what I do, he’s just a sucker for control. It’s like his ultimate wet dream, to have us do exactly how he says and behave just the way he asks us to. 

“ Out. “ 

“ Out where ? “

“ None of your business. “ 

“ Kathleen “ mom scolds me. I know she has this fantasy of us three living like a perfect family, all happy and joyful. Smiling at each other as we sit around the dinner table talking about our days before we settle on the couch to watch Happy Days.

That’s not reality though. Reality looks pretty bleak right now. Reality is absolute bullshit.

“ I was at the library, okay ? “ 

“ With a boy ? “ 

“ No, what the fuck are you on about. “ 

“ I know the kind of girl you are, Kat. I know girls like you. “ 

Girls like me. 

Dude doesn’t know shit.

“ Sluts “ he spits out. I know he does it to rile me up. He’s just waiting for me to make a mistake so he can put me in my place and assert his dominance. God, he’s such an asshole.

“ Dave ! Don’t call her th— “ mom doesn’t get to finish the sentence before he smacks her across the face, a loud slapping noise echoing through the room. It never gets easier. Watching him hit her. Watching her excuse his actions. Watching them continue as normal.

“ I told you, to shut up, Joan. You know what happened with the boy. The man.“ 

I lock eyes with her, begging her to say something. Do something. End this misery. She has the power to do so. This is our apartment. Out food. Our money. She has all the power in the world and yet, when she averts her eyes, I know it means nothing. 

Dave looks at me again then flops down on the couch, resting his feet on the couch table and clutching a beer in his meaty slob of a hand.

“ Ma, “ I approach her, wanting to comfort her. This is my mother and despite her flaws and issues, I love her. Sometimes I wonder if she returns the sentiment. 

“ I’m okay. “ 

“ But you’re not!” 

“ I said, I am okay. “ the look in her eyes gives me no room to argue. This conversation is over. This topic is over. For now. 

Because those things are never really over, are they ? 

I take a can of coke from the fridge then sit down on the bench by the window. The snow is softly falling outside and if I didn’t despise the cold so much, I’d even call it pretty. It’s a huge contrast to how things are inside right now. Snow falls slowly, piecefully. My mind is chaos, loud and crowded like Times Square on New Years. 

I try to focus on my book and not on Dave who belches after every gulp of beer or my mom who’s perched on the corner of the couch, close enough for him to feel validated and yet far enough for her own comfort. I hate that this place doesn’t feel like a home anymore. It feels like a prison. Like a cage.

That annoying coke commercial comes on tv and I remember a christmas, many years ago. Dad sits in the recliner, we’re in our old apartment and it’s warm inside. The snow falls softly and the place smells like nutmeg and cinnamon. Mom is happily singing along to the commercial and dad’s placing a kiss on her head and it’s not a very important memory but it means so much to me. Because those christmases were good. 

My eyes wander towards the shelf by the door, the one that holds a lot of things. Those kind of things you don’t know where else to put. There’s a bowl you’re supposed to put keys in, none of us ever do, and a sculpture I made in 4th grade art class. There’s random books and records and a cassette deck that doesn’t work anymore. 

I look the shelf up and down, searching for the one thing in there that means something. The one thing I deliberately placed there because I wanted to see it every time I leave the house.

But it’s gone and my heart shatters.

“ Where’s the picture of dad ? “ 

“ Huh ? “ mom looks up at me. I can see it in her eyes. She heard me just right and she knows where it is.

“ The picture of dad on the shelf. Where is it ? “ 

“ It’s time to move on “ Dave chimed in with his throaty, dark voice. He sounds like he constantly has a meatball stuck in his gullet. It’s fucking disgusting. “ He’s been dead for years now. No use in grieving no more. “ 

Use in greiving ? Does he think we chose to be sad ? Does he really think I can just go and decide not to miss my dad anymore ? Not to be sad anymore ? Not to feel like my heart is bursting into a million little pieces whenever something reminds me of my dad ?

“ What did you do ? “ 

“ Put it where it belongs ?  “ 

I can feel the hot red rage burning inside, behind my eyes, in the tips of my fingers. 

“ What does that mean ? “ 

“ He’s gone, Kat. Get over it. I live here now and I don’t wanna be reminded of that fact that your ma had another man before me. It don’t matter no more, you’re my family now !” he bellows, getting off his ass and towering over me like a giant sequoia tree.

This man doesn’t know the first thing about being a family. I don’t know a lot about it either but I know this isn’t it.

“ Fuck you, Dave. Dad belongs here ! We’re his family, mom is his wife. You’re just some asshole she keeps around for god knows what reasons. Just a boyfriend, those come and go “.

He’s awfully silent at that. It’s scarier than the yelling and the mean words. Like he’s taking it all in, waiting, building. It’s gonna come crashing down on me in a minute, I just know it.

The snarl disappears and makes room for a smirk so unsettling, it freezes my blood right there in my veins.

“ Is that so ? Tell her Joan. “ 

“ Tell me what ? “ Oh god. Oh god, no.

“ Dave, this is not the ti— “ 

“ Tell her ! “ he yells and mom flinches then turns to me, eyes never once leaving the carpet.

“ Baby, Dave and I we — we decided it was time to take our relationship to the next level.” 

No. 

No.

No.

“ We’re getting married. “

“ No. “ I say, as if my opinion matters to anyone here. “ Mom, you can’t. You can’t do this. Mom “ 

I beg and I plead and I can feel the tears rising, hardly able to keep them at bay. I feel so small, so helpless.

“ We can and we will ! We’ve also talked about you … “ Dave starts and by the satisfied smirk on his face I can tell whatever he’s about to say, I won’t like it.

“ We had a long discussion about you and your behavior. The skipping school, the parties, the boys. It needs to stop. You need to learn some responsibility. Some respect. “ 

“ Mom. “ I try to meet her eyes, try to get her attention. This can’t be happening. 

“ It’s for the best, baby. “ 

“ What is ? “ 

Dave takes over the conversation again. God I wish he would just disappear. Vanish into nothingness. Where he belongs. “ We think the city is no good place for a young woman to grow up. Too many distractions. Too many temptations. How could you ever become a proper wife growing up in this place. “

“ Are you saying you want to send me away ? “ 

Mom looks up at me finally, and I can see the pain in eyes. And for the first time, I am glad. I hope she’s hurting. I hope it rips her heart out. I hope she feels the same pain she did when dad died. Because this, this is on her. This is a conscious choice she makes. For herself. For me. For our family.

I hope it hurts her because it kills me.

“ I uh — I talked to Susan. You remember her, right ? My half-sister. She uh — she lives in this cute little town in Indiana. Lots of nature. It’s very picturesque she says. They have a house there, she and her husband and the kids. Her step son is your age. I think — I think It’d do you some good. Susan says he’s calmed down his temper since they moved. Maybe it will work for you. “ 

I want to say so much. I want to scream and cry and throw a tantrum but the pain I feel numbs me to my bones. It’s like all energy is sucked right out of me. I’m too exhausted to react. Too exhausted to fight back.

So I do what I do best. I run. Take my keys, my jacket, my bag. And I run out into the night. The snow. The cold.

Whatever is out there isn’t half as harsh as what’s waiting for me in this place.

I know I have to go back eventually but for now I need to get out and save myself from drowning in my own despair. In the picture of a family that is no family at all and the memories of what used to be.

As I walk down the street I pass a park. There’s a concert going on. A choir sings “ Have yourself a merry little christmas”.

I want to throw up. I do throw up, in the bin by the park bench. 

Merry fucking christmas, Kathleen. I’m sure it’ll be a great one.

“Have yourself a merry little Christmas Let your heart be light From now on your troubles will be out of sight”

Absolute bullshit, my dudes. Absolute bullshit.

[straykidsftw]

ATZ / HJS

genre: fluff, angst, mafia!AU

requested?: yes (anon)

summary: in which Jisung was sure he’d never fall in love, until he met you

warning: gang violence, use of guns

_________________

“Maybe you should find yourself someone, Ji,” Minho said, shrugging, “it’s pretty nice.”

Jisung breathed out a laugh, reloading the gun in his hands, “no thanks.”

“Haven’t you heard? Han Jisung doesn’t feel emotions,” Changbin teased, coming and throwing his arm over the younger’s shoulders.

The eight boys laughed, making Jisung grumble, “I’m going out.”

“Where?” Woojin asked sternly, the smile disappearing from his face.

“For a walk. Round the block,” Jisung shrugged, “I’ll be back soon.”

“Ya! Feelingless! Catch!” Chan called, chucking Jisung a gun.

Jisung caught it easily, sliding it into his pocket and walking out the door. But upon leaving the house, he heard voices from round the corner.

“I-I’m sorry!”

“You better be. Slut.”

“I-I didn’t me–mean anything by it! I–I just was w—“

The sound of skin slapping skin was sound as the girl whimpered, and Jisung knew exactly who it was. When he turned the corner and saw the mullet, it only confirmed his suspicions.

Atz. More specifically, Kim Hongjoong. Hongjoong was bombarding the helpless you as San, Yeosang and Yunho watched on in amusement.

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Jisung spat.

The four boys turned their heads. The trio laughed as Hongjoong stepped away from you and towards Jisung.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw Hongjoong pull a knife out, ready to attack the boy in front of you at any moment.

“What did you say, Han?” Hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I said get your filthy hands off her,” Jisung said, a cheeky, yet evil grin on his face, “why? Are you still recovering?”

Hongjoong’s face went dark. He bent down and lifted up his trouser leg, revealing his leg, still wrapped up in mounds of bandage.

“Six months,” Hongjoong spoke, walking closer to ‘Han’, although his walk looked more like a limp, “it’s been six months.”

“You deserved it Kim Hongjoong,” Jisung spat.

The other three men had moved off the wall by this point, surrounding their leader. You knew you should move while no one was looking in you, but something inside made you stay, someone inside made you want to stay.

“What did you say to me?!” Hongjoong asked, his voice getting angrier and angrier.

“I said you deserved it Kim Hongjoong, and everyone knows you deserved it, even your little possy,” Jisung said, becoming braver and braver by the moment.

Hongjoong chuckled, raising his knife, “maybe I should give you a taste of—“

Jisung had already shot his gun before Hongjoong could get his words out, shooting the knife out the elder’s hand, barely missing you as you hit the ground, hands covering your ears, before he shot Hongjoong’s bad foot.

Hongjoong immediately fell, his three gang members crowding around him in support before carrying him back to their car. Jisung watched, making sure they’d gone before walking over to you.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, “I um– I’m Jisung.”

Your body continued shaking, flinching away as Jisung offered you his hand.

Jisung sighed, seeing your scared figure, “don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you, okay? The boys have gone, it’s just me and you now.”

Jisung stepped back and placed his gun down on the floor, “trust me more now?”

You looked up at the boy before you, taking in his features before looking at his outstretched hand. You took it and he helped you up, giving you a lop-sided smile.

“As I said I’m Han Jisung,” Jisung repeated, “and you are?”

“Y-Y/N,” you said, “thank you Jisung. I think you just saved my life.”

Jisung waved his hand, “oh no, it was nothing. Why were you in this area anyway?”

“I lost a bet and had to go through the bad part of town to get home, this is it,” you sighed.

Jisung looked at you regretfully, before gasping, eyes lighting up, “I’ll walk you home!”

You looked up at the boy, eyebrows raised, “really?”

“Really really,” Jisung said, nodding, “then you won’t have to worry about a thing!”

You pondered your options before shrugging. Reaching down to pick up the gun, you passed it back to Jisung, “just in case.”

Jisung smiled, taking the gun and beginning to walk side by side with you, “so... tell me about yourself.”

_________

“Wait, you actually live around here?” you asked.

Jisung nodded, sighing, “it’s not great, is it?”

“No wonder you always stay at mine!” you exclaimed, shivering, “this place give me the creeps.”

Jisung laughed, “don’t worry, we’re nearly home.”

“So, what’s the deal round here? I hear there’s groups of mafia, or gangs and things like that,” you said, looking around, “that’s kind of exciting though! It’s like in the films.”

Jisung chuckled, nodding as he watched your excited face, “yeah, I guess.”

“That’s who Hongjoong was, wasn’t it?” you asked, feeling Jisung’s hand tighten around yours at the mention of his name, “he was in a gang.”

Jisung sighed, nodding, “yeah, he- he was. They’re called Atz.”

“Atz?” you repeated.

Jisung nodded, “but, Y/N, I feel like you deserve to know... I’m in one of those mafia groups.”

“What?!” you exclaimed.

Gunshots sounded from ahead as you immediately dropped to the floor. Jisung grabbed your arm, ducking as he ran, pulling you with him.

When the two of you reached a big metal fence, he opened the gate, looking around for the location of the gunshots before pushing you inside, following you.

He relaxed slightly once inside, but still looked around warily.

“Welcome to Skz house,” Jisung said, “quickly. Inside.”

He brought his hand around your waist, gripping tightly as the two of you walked faster, you squealing as more gunshots sounded.

“Who was that?!” a voice came from inside, opening the door to reveal a man with blonde hair.

“I don’t know. Probably Atz,” Jisung sighed, pulling you inside, “guys this is Y/N, Y/N this is Skz.”

“Yep, it’s Atz,” another boy, sat at the computer said.

“Is that—“

“Yes baby, it’s Hongjoong,” Jisung said, his jaw tightening, “he’s probably come back for you.”

“For me?!” you exclaimed.

“They’re closing in,” the boy at the computer said, “and they’re all armed.”

“Thanks Seungmin. You, Jeongin and Woojin get in the back. Felix and Changbin will take Y/N and hide, me, Jisung and Hyunjin will go up front,” the blonde boy said, “Minho. Undercover.”

Minho nodded, “got it.”

“Jisung,” you whined, grabbing his arm as your boyfriend began to walk away.

Jisung turned to face you, a hand on either side of your face as he kissed your forehead gently, “don’t worry. I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Promise?” you whispered.

Jisung smiled, wrapping his pinky finger around yours, “promise. Felix, take Y/N.”

Felix came over and took your hand as you continued to watch Jisung as he went and got a load of weapons.

“Don’t worry Y/N, everything’s gonna be okay,” Felix said, “Atz are weak at the moment, we can defeat them.”

“I’m Changbin,” another boy said, appearing next to you, “and Felix is right. And even if they do get in, your with us, you won’t get hurt.”

“But what about Jisung?!” you asked, stopping in your tracks.

Jisung heard your voice, stepping into your line of vision and smiling, “trust me baby! I’m the best in the world!”

Changbin and Felix laughed, each of them taking one of your hands and continuing to walk until you reached a point that you thought the house would never reach, and walking a few metres further.

A light flicked on, revealing the dark room where the three of you were. There was nothing in the room apart from weapons and a radio.

“I’m guessing this is your first experience with mafia groups,” Changbin said, leaning against the wall.

You sat on the floor, resting against the opposite wall, “actually, no. I was raised in a mafia.”

Felix’s and Changbin’s eyes widened, “seriously?!”

You laughed, “no! Of course this is my first experience with mafia.”

“How did you know who Hongjoong was though?” Felix asked.

“That’s how me and Jisung met,” you explained, “Hongjoong was about to attack me, so Jisung shot him in the foot.”

“He shot him in the foot?!” Changbin exclaimed.

You nodded, as the other two laughed, looking at each other in shock.

“Why is he even bothering to attack?!” Changbin laughed.

“They’re gonna be nothing compared to us!” Felix exclaimed.

“Are atz weak?” you asked.

Felix sat down next to you, still chuckling, “they were the strongest mafia group in Korea. And then we managed to overtake them, cause their downfall.”

“So now skz are the strongest mafia group in Korea,” you concluded.

The two boys shrugged, “not necessarily.”

“Tbz are very strong,” Changbin commented.

“And NCT,” Felix said.

You nodded, yawning as you leaned your head on Felix’s shoulder.

“It’s not very comfortable, I know, but we’re gonna be here for a while, so rest while you can,” Changbin said, “we’ll wake you if we need to.”

You smiled, “thanks guys.”

Changbin shrugged, “it’s what we do.”

_________

“Changbin? Felix?” a voice came through the radio.

“Here,” Felix said, standing next to the radio.

You noticed you were now on the cold floor and as you sat up, you remembered what was going on.

“Jisung’s down,” the voice came.

You shot up, both boys looking at you shocked.

“How down?” Changbin asked.

“Shot in the leg, Hongjoong called it pay back,” the boy on the radio explained, “but atz are gone. We’re clear.”

“We’re coming now,” Felix said as the radio buzzed.

“Where is he?!” you shouted, “where is he?!”

“Shh, shh, we’ll take you to him Y/N, don’t worry,” Changbin said, holding you close as Felix opened the door.

You cried into Changbin’s chest, punching him a bit as Changbin just nodded, stroking your back comfortingly before picking you up and carrying you to what you presumed was Jisung’s bedroom.

Felix opened the door, revealing Jisung, Woojin and Chan. You gasped, trying to escape from Changbin’s arms as you saw Jisung on the bed, bandages around his leg.

“Let go of her,” Jisung said weakly as Changbin opened his arms, letting you fall to the floor as you ran over to Jisung.

You kneeled next to his bed and took his hand, beginning to sob again, “Jisung you promised me.”

Jisung shook his head, brushing your hair out your face, “I promised you that I wouldn’t let them hurt you.”

More tears fell as Jisung gave you a cheeky grin.

“Han Jisung, stop it!” you exclaimed, slapping his arm.

“Ow! I’ve just been shot you know!” Jisung exclaimed over-dramatically.

“I’m gonna go,” Chan said, “Y/N, make sure Jisung takes those pills every hour.”

You smiled, nodding as the three boys left the room.

“Jisung,” you whined, looking back at your boyfriend.

Jisung moved over, patting the space next to him in the bed.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you pouted.

“You could never baby,” Jisung said.

You giggled, climbing into the bed next to him and resting on his wide chest, breathing a sigh of relief as you smelt his strong, boyish scent again after hours of being apart.

“Was it okay? Were you safe?” Jisung asked, stroking your arm gently.

You repositioned yourself so you could look at him as you sighed, “yeah. But you weren’t.”

“Y/N, I’m in the mafia,” Jisung chuckled, before sighing, “look, I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore. It’s terrible to live like this and I should never have got you involved.”

“Jisung,” you spoke sternly, “you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. I know we’ve only been dating for two months but... I don’t what I’d do if anything ever happened to you!”

Jisung chuckled, moving your head so it was layjng on his chest, “I feel the same way baby.”

“Jisung, train me,” you said once again moving.

“What?” Jisung scoffed.

“Train me! Make me part of skz!” you exclaimed.

Jisung began moved part of your hair as he stared at you, love in his eyes, “baby I love you so much.”

“So you’ll train me?” you asked hopefully.

Jisung smiled sadly, shaking his head, “it’s the reason why I’m not going to train you.”

You sighed, laying down on your boyfriend’s chest, “it was probably a bad idea anyway.”

“Hey look, I’ll get Chan and Woojin to teach you how to defend yourself,” Jisung offered, “but I’d never put you up in a fight.”

You smiled, chuckling slightly, “I guess I should be happy about that.”

Jisung chuckled, “you just shouldn’t worry about me, okay? I know what I’m doing.”

“Bold thing to say when you’ve been shot in the leg,” you said.

Jisung glared at you, as you laughed, “seriously?”

[prowlingthunder]

Hi! Thanks so much for the rec! I really appreciate it! For your fanfic guessing game, how about rescue, or blue? Thanks!!

Not gonna lie, I stalk you for fic. ^^ You’re good, and worth the rec.

For the ask game… I feel like I should apologize for how many WIP I have… but then I realize folks probably like reading fics in general, and somebody may like mine, so…!

Blue and Rescued are in my SG1/Jyu-Oh-Sei rough draft:Getting rescued was all the hurrah, but unfortunately they had been parted from their own gear, and that meant they were a little slim on extra bullets that may or may not have worked in alien possibly-glocks.

Then, when winter hits, Third and his team and their attache leave through a pool of water that is /definitely/ not water; just step through from the pale blue of Chimera’s gate room into an alien ecosystem.

Blue is in my RW/SG1 rough draft:Raven hair was loose in a mullet- did the Japanese even know what a mullet was? -and bright blue eyes that glittered in a way Daniel wasn’t sure about.

Blue is in my gundam wing daemon fic! Twice, even:His eyes were blue, open and innocent.

Something curled in his belly, taught with nerves; then blue eyes caught troubled hazel, held them, and that knot loosened.

Blue is in another scene snippit from my Dragon’s Breath series, the Dragon Age/Ronin Warrior crossover I’m working on. It’s in the immediate sequel to Sympathy for the Devil:

The blue looked good on him– not bright, but not dark either.

Outside of crossovers, blue is in my Dragon Age Every Warden Ever sequel:The blond traces the blue on her right cheek, watching the two former nobles out of the corner of her eye.

Blue appears three times in my Fallout 4 a/b/o fic that’s undergoing some rework: I flashed blue eyes up and registered Carslile first, looming with that twisted smile on his face.

I stood up and turned so fast I nearly slipped on the wet floor, but instead I felt myself pale as I settled blue eyes on the damned handsome face that haunted my nightmares.

His Corvega was blue, bright as the ocean, and I climbed in the passenger seat as he stored my luggage in the trunk.

It appears three times in my tiny Joan-goes-shopping Fallout 3 fic. I think it’s almost finished, but there’s something missing in the fic I haven’t figured out yet:She turned wide blue eyes to take in the store, moving in a careful, deliberate circle.A basket of neatly folded cloth caught her attention. She stepped to it and knelt down, touching soft fabrics– /Abraxo soap/– and bright colors that weren’t blue.

Julian’s eyes danced, electric-blue, and that made it all worth it.

Blue is in my Fallout 3 wip for Junior getting out of the vault: He loves his sister, of course, and he loves the blue sky and the fresh, dry air, dirt beneath his boots like dirt beneath his fingers.

Big Town Blues, a Fallout 3/4 fic following Mac, has blue in it twice:There was a rain collector, too, and an expanse of blue tarp funneling it in.

Mac settled wide blue eyes on Biwwy and then slid them over to Tewwy, wondering who the young man was to garner so much trust that Biwwy would tell him about the caverns.

Blue appears once in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, a Fallout 4 fanfic:He turned blue eyes up to the man, tall as he was, and Artem watched them both, already moving to scoop Quinn up out of his arms and off his feet.

Chapter three of Devil’s Luck, yet another Fallout 4 fanfic, has Blue appear once:There were a lot of questions in that blue gaze that he wasn’t prepared to explain, though he thought he knew what all the questions would be if the younger soldier spoke them out loud.

Blue appears one time in Dawnfire, my Cor/Nyx FFXV fic: Blue eyes blinked at him, one focusing quicker than the other.

(Rescue is in my notes for Savage Coeurl of Galahd, my “Cor is from Galahd” fanfic, but not in the fic proper. Alas.)

(Blue pops up a lot of times in my scenes for Ambulo, wherein “Ardyn from another universe ended up in canon game timeline” ffxv fic, but a lot of my work got jossed so I’m not sure what’s gonna stay yet. :/ )

Wolflords, a Lord of the Ring Lupercalia fic, has Blue in it once:He much preferred the stories of of the elves and their wolves, sunshine-gold and moon-bright silver, midnight blue dappled with stars, all long-lived and all elegant and graceful like the elves themselves.

Caran Dagra, part of my LotRO setup, has blue twice. It’s probably going to undergo a heavy rewrite before I ever post it, but here’s the wip: The others, Levine and Manco, sat down next to him, pallets of brown and yellow, green and blue eyed respectively.

A simple oval slice, about as big as a quarter, with a penny-length shard of blue in the center, gemstone fused to heartwood.

Nest of Vipers, a companion fic to my Overwatch fic Aitai, has blue: Host of the blue dragons, who secured his position by casting down his own younger brother.

A tiny Haruko-related fic has Blue also:Finally the glove came down with a swipe of her fingers, revealing the blue-finned tail and scales of something.

In my current draft of Blood and Ashes, a Lupercalia Ronin Warriors fic, blue pops up: So he went and he wore what was appropriate for the occasion, fire red and orange and blue, with the threaded white braid worn over his left shoulder, showing all he’d been born to his place.

Blue pops up three times in Homecoming, part of a multiverse fic series I’m doing with my sister because we’re both a pair of dorks. Homecoming is a Ronin Warriors fic:She must have felt it too, because she looked up from the person she was talking to and fixed her attention on him, ocean-blue eyes boring into him, knowing and excited, her smile lighting up the airport floor.

Both tall, both dark haired, both blue-eyed, both terribly attractive.

His face was sharp and when he looked up at him, molten blue eyes pinned Cye right through the chest.

Blue pops up twice in an Arrow/RW crossover for the multiverse:Dark blue, linen and lots of silk. The only thing that is out of place is a pale blue ruff around his throat, a scarf instead of a tie– silk, he figures, from the look of it.

[peppusae]

[kth] lavender honey ch. 7

note: this fanfic has multiple chapters, so please look forward to more!

lavender honey: kim taehyung x reader

genre: crack, fluff, college au, smut

word count: 3k words

>

lavender honey

ch 7: in which taehyung achieves his dream of world dominance. at least... in the world of your stupid thoughts.

The drive back is filled with jazz music.

Taehyung sits at the passenger seat, half-pouting at a stubborn Namjoon who did not give in, even when the younger male had asked him to rest.

So, instead, Taehyung continues to jam to jazz music and acting as if you all were inside a karaoke box. It’s lively for a change, so you find yourself giggling as you exchange chats with Jungkook here and there.

When a slow song comes on and Namjoon’s gaze goes to the way Taehyung’s deep voice sings the soft song, you put your phone down and listen to the younger male as well. You couldn’t see his face from your seat in the back seat, but you became acutely aware of some little details that you had never noticed before.

Kim Taehyung has the most beautiful shoulders, it fits his posture and build really well. It

You notice for the first time that his hair is growing out, a mullet of sorts.

Shit. That’s hot.

The nape of his neck is so smooth, and you can see the veins in his neck as he sings the song in a very sorrowful voice.

Oh.

This is too much, seriously.

Your subconscious mind, Minji is being extra horny today.

You shut your eyes tight and try to get the nasty visions your nastyass brain was forming in your head as far away from you as possible.

>

And then, you wake up.

You could feel a huge cramp on the left side of your neck, and when you begin to stretch the pain away, you realize that you’re still inside the car, and someone was next to you.

“T-Taehyung?”

“Ah, my dear cauliflower. You finally decided to wake up?”

Cauliflower?

That isn’t even worth questioning..

You yawn in response, stretching yourself a little and looking outside. “Ah, we reached? Where’s Joon?”

“He’s inside. For now, let’s get off.” Taehyung says, and you nod, opening the door and the two of you climb outside.

“Wait. How is it already night, we left from Ilsan in the evening, and the drive shouldn’t have taken more than half an hour, and you were in the passenger seat so why were you in the back just now-”

“You really should leave that nasty habit you have of dumping ten billion questions at once.” He has to say. “And you use varying registers for each word and it hurts my ears.”

“I use varying what?!”

“Anyway. Go back in, here’s the key to the car.” Taehyung says, throwing it at you and you manage to catch in. Score! “I’ll head off home. Rest well today, yeah?”

It’s kinda annoying that he wouldn’t wait for a response. Maybe it’s a guy thing. To say something cool and then turn around and walk off. Taehyung even has his hands in his pockets like the thug wannabe kid he probably is, as well. Is that a trend, now?

You watch him bring the door of the gate to a close, and then walk off, and honestly. Peach is such a hot color on him.

It’s kinda stupid, but peach is perfect on Taehyung’s hair because it makes him look beautiful during bright light, and very… attractive, at night, when the light is fading and the hue of peach darkens a little.

Why are you thinking about Taehyung’s hair at a time like this, what even.

You heave out a big sigh, opening the door and getting inside your house. You find Namjoon in his room, by his study desk, and he watches you take a seat on his bed.

“So. You slept in the car for two hours. How do you feel?”

“I what ?!”

“Yes you did. You fell asleep right after Taehyungie finally started driving, and I was gonna wake you up but he didn’t want to. So he stayed with you until you woke up.”

This makes your mouth wide open in shock, wondering just why on Earth he would stay for so long, when he could have just woke you up and asked you to go to bed at your own home.

See. This is going to go on to the list of the 54920435 things that will forever baffle you, in regards to Kim Taehyung. The mysteries are endless, and if someone is gonna do urban legends on the 21st century in the year 3829, you feel bad at how many things they’ll have to learn about Taehyung.

So instead, you wish Namjoon a good night and retire to your room, where you stare at the ceiling for God knows how long, before you fall asleep again.

>

‘Noona. Are you back? Can I call you?’

A text is waiting for you when you wake up on Sunday morning.

A couple seconds after you reply with a ‘yes’, Jungkook makes the call.

Not just sexy but also a reliable man! What a catch!!

“I… I found out Taehyungie-hyung went to Ilsan to visit you… I had no idea, Noona. If I knew, I’d have gone with him, as well.”

You shake your head, giving him a smile in response. Wait a sec. This is a phone call bro.

Oh yeah.

“It’s fine, Kookie. I’m fine, really. I just had a hard day, but I’m okay, now. Joon is, too.”

“Noonim. If you don’t have other plans, I’d like to prepone our date for tomorrow, to today.”

“I’d like that, Jungoo.”

“I’ll pick you up in an hour, Noonim.” Jungkook says, before he hangs up.

He shows up five minutes early.

Your mouth is an ‘o’ like those naan you crave to perfect when Joon announces that Jungkook has shown up. Since you were not finished getting ready yet, you ask Namjoon to bring the kid inside till you finish.

Since finding out that Jungkook feels… that…. Uh? Positive… Wanna-go-out kind of feelings towards you, you find yourself changing a little in the sense that your allowance each month goes towards buying beauty products instead of useless junk food.

You even bought one of those stupid… tweezers…

Bruh. What were you even becoming?

Jeon Jungkook is quite famous among the freshmen, and you’ve had some of your classmates ask about what your relationship was, when you two had been wearing the totally-obvious-as-fuck clothing on your first date day.

What really was your relationship with Jungkook? Even Taehyung had asked the same question and you didn’t really have much of a solid answer to give.

Oh shit. That might have been the first time you didn’t have a good answer to give to Kim Taehyung.

Dammit. You really hope Seokjin manages to prepare that memory-erasing potion he fantasizes on creating. It’d be nice to wipe that memory away from his head.

And also that time when you came down to the living room to get ice after you’d finished waxing and you were only wearing your towel around your body and Taehyung had been chillaxing with Namjoon and discussing which member from Stranger Things went through the most development.

That’s some quality discussion, now that you think about it.

You also hope you could erase the memory of him watching you slather on makeup for your first date. Crazy as shit, but you still think about that… disappointed expression on his face.

Is this what doom feels like?

Now that you think some more, you’d probably use the potion on erasing only things related to Taehyung.

Why are we even (silent) discussing fantasy potions even, how is Seokjin gonna create a memory-erasing potion when he can’t even figure out and notice how obvious it is that Namjoon likes him back.

Send help now.

You shake your head and race down the stairs after you get ready. Jungkook is sitting on the sofa next to Namjoon, and you didn’t even know that Taehyung hadn’t left for home yet.

So, the two Kim boys and one Jeon boy are just chilling around the coffee table, playing uno.

Uno? L a m e.

Okay, Uno isn’t really lame, but you were expecting them to do something more wild and less mediocre… Maybe having a mini parkour marathon.

Okay, you’ve watched way too much of prince of stride episodes.

Jungkook looks up when you finally come over to the living room.

“Noonim!”

“Noonim?!” Namjoon’s voice echoes in startlement. Out of context, sure, that sounds a bit weird. Who even calls people that anymore, this is the age of blossoming Noona-romances, after all-

Minji does a double flip in your head, so you tell her to calm the fuck down.

“[Name]-noona is older than me, of course. So-”

“I know that, but why specifically Noonim, is my question-”

“Your sister has some nastyass kinks, dearest Hyung of mine.” Taehyung has to say, before he puts a card down and screeches ‘UNO’ at the top of his lungs.

Jungkook looks very flustered and takes a glance at you, too embarrassed to look at Namjoon and instead looks at Taehyung with a small pout.

Seriously, Taehyung really needs to grow up.

Wait.

If Taehyung does any more of growing up, his voice is probably gonna be deeper and his shoulders broader and his-

Minji needs to shut the fuck up oh my good god.

“Shut up!” You hiss at Taehyung. What was he even doing here anyways? Doesn’t he have an apartment that has been paid to keep him inside it? Why can’t he do one single job?

“L-Let’s go, Noona?” Jungkook says, and you nod. He still looks to embarrassed after Taehyung’s remark, to look at Namjoon, so he simply says ‘I’ll be off, Hyung’ instead and stands up. You pull on his sleeve a little and Jungkook lets you pull him out as you stomp out of the house, feeling a little bit annoyed.

“It’s nice to know that you’re not too gloomy. I’m sure your grandpa is at a better place now, so don’t put yourself through any pain. He isn’t suffering either.”

Those are such comforting words, and you almost tear up and ruin your mascara at the way Jungkook looks a little worried.

“I won’t. Where are you taking me, Jungoo?”

The nickname makes him smile, showing his front teeth and he looks so adorable that you can’t stand it. How can he have such burly arms but such doe eyes and bunny teeth like that?

Some men get ALL the luck.

Jungkook interrupts your worry towards the rest of the general male population by pointing at where his bike was parked at. After he makes sure you’ve gotten on his bike safely, he asks you to please be patient for a bit.

And then.

He takes you to an art gallery.

Jungkook takes you to an art gallery, filled with classical paintings.

The paintings there are so detailed, vibrant and beautiful, and they do nothing but remind you of Taehyung.

Okay. This is getting out of hand. When did this even start?

Is it because he came to attend your grandpa’s funeral?

Or because you both keep spending so much time together for your extra credit?

Is it because he’s the one you see the most after Namjoon?

Or is it simply nothing except the sole fact that he technically worships Vincent Van Gogh?

Jungkook seems to notice your fraying thoughts and lack of conversation between you two.

“Noonim? Are you upset about what Taehyungie-hyung said?”

“No! That’s not it! I’m so sorry Taehyung said that. He’s really stupid, he doesn’t realize what he’s saying when he speaks!!”

Jungkook reacts belatedly, his stare on you for a couple seconds before he then says, ‘Was it a lie?’

“What-”

“You know what I’m talking about, Noona~” He sings, and this makes you punch his arm playfully, your face heating up.

Of course, it’s a kink.

Jungkook himself is a kink, after all.

You were so glad you didn’t say that out loud.

Minji has some issues today.

Daylight changes to city lights in the matter of a couple hours while the two of you laze around at a coffee shop and sip on frothy coffees.

While Jungkook drives you back home and you have your hands clutching onto two handfuls of his sweater, you take a good moment to think about your day.

And it’s very upsetting for you when you realize how different this date was from your first date with Jungkook, how much less the conversations had become, and you wonder if Jungkook would still be interested in taking you out if you keep having other thoughts and memories splurging around in your mind like crazy.

“Noona, next week, can I take you to the grass fields a couple blocks from my apartment? It’s really pretty there, and I want to take you there and then take you home.”

“W-What?!”

Holy shit, you could almost see Minji starting to strip, in your head.

You nasty.

“Ah! I- I really need to learn to rephrase my wordings better.” Jungkook says with a facepalm. Minji is putting her clothes back on when he goes on. “I want to show you what I do. Like, what I’m drawing and what kind of videos I make.”

“Oh.”

“You sound a bit disappointed, Noona.”

“Don’t be too cocky.” You respond, and this earns a big grin from Jungkook, and he hurries to intertwine your fingers together. “Now that I think about it, even if we’ve known each other for a while, I haven’t really been able to see much of your drawings.”

“That’s right! I want to show you so that you’d be impressed!” He gushes. “I always want to take pictures of you that I can sketch, if I have your permission. I have the whole date all planned!”

This makes you giggle, the two of you taking a seat at the porch of your house. It was nice that he didn’t want to leave just yet and thought the same thing you did.

“I also have one more date all planned out! That’s for the next next week, though.”

“What’s that date for?”

“I want to sit by the beach with you for the whole day.”

Your heart swells. Aigoo. How can someone be that cute? You’re almost afraid of asking, because you weren’t sure how much your fragile heart could handle this cute little baby boy.

“And the week after that?”

“Well…” He says, glancing at you, and then getting up. “Let’s let you decide that.”

You give him an ok sign, and the two of you glance at the door.

“I should get going,” Jungkook says, carding his fingers through your hair and looking a little disappointed. “Go in first, Noona. I’ll see you at college tomorrow.”

“Drive safe, Jungoo. I had fun today. With you.”

This makes him smile, and you’re expecting the action much earlier than it actually starts, when he holds your hands tight and then leans in to kiss you.

The taste of banana milk still remains on his lips, and the way one hand softly holds your cheek tenderly makes your heart race a little as you kiss him back and wrap an arm around his neck.

Your first kiss! With Jeon Jungkook!

It’s such a new warmth, and it still stays, even when Jungkook moves away a little, his hold changing into a hug while he looks at your face.

“That was my first kiss, Noonim.” He confesses, bursting into a huge grin.

“That was my first kiss too, Jungoo.”

“What?! Are you serious?” He looks surprised, but doesn’t let you go, and you look up at him and give him a nod.

“I’m a happy, and very lucky man, then. I… I like this, and this is definitely not a platonic feeling.”

Your heart races a little, and the fact that Jungkook has both his arms around your waist is not helping. You really couldn’t concentrate, and the fact that you two were still standing at the porch of your house makes you a little nervous about Namjoon or Taehyung seeing you two.

Ah. That was quite a lot of time that went by without you thinking about Taehyung.

Did Minji sign a contract with him or what-

“Let’s see what happens, Noona. Let’s go on dates and find out what we feel. Are you okay with me?”

“Okay is not enough as an adjective to describe how I feel about you.”

“That makes me glad.” Jungkook joins you and chuckles, and then he takes a step away. “Go inside first, and I’ll text you when I go home.”

“Bye, Jungkook- Wait. You have some of my lipstick on your lips!” You say, noticing the uneven red on his lips now.

“What? Really?!”

When you reach a hand to his face, he takes a step back, shaking his head a little.

“K-Keep it.”

“But-”

“Ah, Noona~ Don’t make your Jungoo more embarrassed!” He whines cutely, and you’re surprised that you aren’t on the floor as melted goo right now.

The two of you wave goodbye, and Jungkook heads back home with a big smile on his face.

There’s no one downstairs, and you’re still recovering from the little high you were on because of Jungkook. As you walk upstairs and head to your room, you see that Namjoon’s room door was open.

Now, you had zero intentions on eavesdropping on what was going on, but when you hear ‘Do you like someone, Taehyung-ah?’, you can’t just walk past or interrupt the conversation, right?

Yeah! You’re doing the right thing! Who knows how much Namjoon might have worked to finally ask this question.

Yeah! It’s all for your bro’s sake!

“My… my chances are rare, hyung. I might want to hold tight, the person I like, but I can’t. Not when things are going well for her with the person she likes. I don’t want to be the person that ruins things for the one person I have the hardest time staying away from, you know?”

[jhmyguardiangel]

Beastly Beautiful Spin-Off | Jeonghan | Ep. 3

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life, Elite!Jeonghan

Category: Seventeen Series, Seventeen Universe

A/N: Last chapter to close off this series! i know i said 5 episodes but i think this is good enough to say goodbye to this fic! ^^ ps. long posy ahead -//-

Word count: 1970

<Previous Episode

———

“Mr. Ryu, Can you help me with something?.” Jeonghan queried, all laid down on the sofa. It was a long weekend and the Yoon Manor was not at its usual state since Jeonghan didn’t have anyone to make fun of.

And where were you? You were at a carnival after a sleepover at Sejeong’s hometown. Knowing that on the last minute, Jeonghan was immediately annoyed. Even if you lived under same roof, he lowkey wanted to spend some time with you. ‘Cause recently, rumors were going around about you two ‘living in’, so you had to leave seperately at all costs.

“Yes, sure. What will it be, Young Master?” Mr. Ryu folded the newspaper and quickly taking a sip from his coffee, his attention on Jeonghan.

“I want to cut my hair.” he simply said, flicking the ends of his shoulder-length, untied ash blonde hair.

The older man choked on his coffee, coughing vigorously. “Well why, Young Master? I couldn’t believe my ears.”

Jeonghan glared at him, “Then clean them!” sitting up, “I just feel like it.”

“Madame Yoon loved your hair, though.”

“I know she did.” he sat back. “But I wanna have a change of style, you know.”

Mr. Ryu just shook his head, knowing the real reason why Jeonghan would do just a bold thing. “You want to show off and grab Y/N’s attention, Young Master.”

Bullseye. Jeonghan’s heartbeat started beating rapidly, his top of his ears slowly turning red, and coughing his way out of the conversation. “Well I-“

Giving a soft chuckle, “Bargaining is the second stage of love, Young Master. You just fake coughed.”

“Just call my stylist, will you?” he stood up, getting pissed off as he left the living room.

“Ah he’s slowly getting there.”

———

“Finally I could have a break from all that dealing with YDH Technologies.” you flopped on Sejeong’s bed, tired from the extra paperwork.

Sejeong just laughed at you, she too, flopped beside you as you both stared at the ceiling. “See? I told you. You shouldn’t push yourself too much.” her face lit up. “Let’s have a makeover! My treat.”

“My body hurts from all that fun we had yesterday at the carnival.” you contrasted. “Just let me slee-“

She pulled you up, earning a groan from you. “You’ve been at the Yoon Manor for like what? Half a year? Got to have all those stress levels down, you know.”

You smiled sheepishly, agreeing to the offer. “All right, what have you planned?”

“Shopping for clothes, and in to the salon we go for a makeup and hair-do.” she went towards her walk-in closet to get dressed.

“But I’m already beautiful, what’s the point?” you teased, crossing your arms.

Sejeong gasped, “Y/F/N, that confidence though.” lifting her hand to her chest. “But ew, you’re sounding like broom boy.”

“Broom boy? You mean President Jeonghan?” you giggled.

“Yeah, me and boys called him that eversince he kidnapped you from me when we’re walking to the Key last year. You do remember, right?”

“Of course I do.” you rolled your eyes. Smiling, you stood still remembering how Mrs. Bu secretly face-timed Jeonghan’s reaction when you left this morning. He looked like a little child.

“Well, come on you pretty pixie dust! We have to go before you go back to broom boy’s dustpan.”

“Watch your mouth, Sejeongie.” you followed after.

Once you’ve arrived at Sejeong’s frequent salon go-to, everything was already prepared. The staff stood to greet the both of you, and you sat on before the vanity. Ms. Lee, the owner, smiled so much seeing you.

“I finally get to meet you Miss Y/F/N. I very much adore your late mother’s work.” she said as she draped the cloth around you.

Your face lit up. “You’ve read my mother’s work?”

“Yes I have.” she nodded. “Her viewpoint on the world is very interesting.”

You smiled, never have you ever met anyone who’ve read your mother’s journals. She wasn’t that renowned but knowing this made you so relieved.

“So, which hairstyle you’d like your hair to be, Miss Y/F/N?”

“Please do whatever you think suits best.” you answered, looking at her through the mirror, “And just call me Y/N, I like your hospitality.”

“Very well noted.”

———

“Young Master! Please do wake up! I thought you wanted to have your hair cut today?” Mrs. Bu scolded. “Oh heavens, the stylist can’t be kept waiting!”

Jeonghan shuffled in his blanket, his eyes even droopier than they normally looked. “Fine.” making Mrs. Bu sigh a relief. “Two more minutes..”

Seeing him flopped to bed, Mrs. Bu groan and reached for the pillow and hit Jeonghan. “Dear! You really should not slack around. I thought you wanted to do this for Miss Y/N?”

Jeonghan’s eyes shot open and rushed straight to his bathroom to have a change of clothes, almost slipping on the way.

Mrs. Bu couldn’t hold in her laugh before telling herself. “You just need to mention Y/N’s name to make him move. Silly boy.”

As Jeonghan went down to the front gate, jogging, Mr. Gok was waiting in Jeonghan’s new Tesla vehicle in the shade of silver, “Mr. Gok, can you—“

Mr. Gok looked to where Jeonghan was, however his ears met with a loud thud and Jeonghan was laughing. He was on the floor, having slipped on the small steppings just below the entrance.

“In a hurry aren’t we, Young Master?”

The injured boy stood up slowly, “I must’ve sprained an ankle.” he sighed at his clumsiness. “Let’s go.”

———

You and Sejeong parted ways right after your girls’ day out and honestly, time was so limited that Sejeong had to be held back by her butler from chasing you. It was a hilarious sight that you wished you had taken a video.

Speaking of video, you still had the video you had taken of Jeonghan sleep talking. As time passed, you have secretly recorded quite a few. He wanted them deleted but you’ve kept them hidden somewhere he could never find. Mr. Ryu took notice of your smile through the rear mirror on your way back to the manor for lunch.

“Miss Y/N, aren’t we all smiles this morning” he steered and glanced at the mirror, “I’ve come to a conclusion that you have treasured the time you had with Miss Sejeong?”

“It was amazing.” you stretched, “I could’ve stayed longer but due to the project Jeonghan and I are working on, it was halted.”

Mr. Ryu nodded and smiled at your new get up as he parked by the front gate. “We have arrived Miss Y/N. And my oh my, you’re looking more beautiful each day.”

You took your backpack and entered, little Chansung approached you in pajamas, having just woken up. “Miss Y/N! You’re home! I missed you.”

Carrying the little bean, your heart never failed to soften whenever he asked for you. “I missed you too, Chansung.” giving him raspberries.

Mrs. Bu giggled and was in joy when “Oh Miss Y/N, you’ve changed your appearance! Young Master would love to see your new look.”

“See what?”

Jeonghan and you had wide eyes seeing each other as he entered the living room, hearing the loud commotion. Both of you have had a change in appearance and to take it all in so early in the morning? Your hearts would have burst any minute now, or seconds.

The lad in front of you had cut his hair short, really short, almost a mullet. He dyed them into a dirty blonde but it was leaning towards the silver side. To put more style into it, he also had them waved and middle parted. You’ve never expected him to ever cut his hair, or even imagined him in it. However, it really made him much manlier. The broadness of his shoulders were more refined now that his long locks gone, even his jawline was sharp enough to shoot into your fluttering heart.

And it stings. Because you actually loved this new look on him.

You looked away and fiddled with the straps of your backpack. The action was subtle, but Jeonghan knew it was more than enough to make him fall in love with you than he already did. He admired your new hair-do, it was still a bit long but you also had it dyed in an ombré fashion. The curls made your face light up and different, and he loved your eyes the most.

He asked himself if you were wearing a bit of make up, but it was all-natural as he looked up close.

The old man with glasses and the lady had enough of this long stare down between the two of you, so they decided to have a little fun and pushed you and Jeonghan closer.

“Goodness just hug it all out.” Mrs. Bu laughed as she carried Chansung, leaving the living room with Mr. Ryu at the same time. “Acting all shy.”

Jeonghan glared at the act but to have you in his arms again after a four day holiday? He was glad, ecstatic even.

“You look beautiful.” he began, and by the corner of your eye, he was stiff.

“Thank you, Jeonghan.” you awkwardly pursed your lips together, playing with your feet. “I dig your short hair. Makes your face stand out more.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes. “Please, this face you’re seeing is the reason why you’re so in love.”

You laughed, but he wasn’t wrong. The air was once again awkward and quiet, only the sounds of distant chirping from birds heard. Jeonghan wanted to have you in his arms desperately, he was itching to talk to you more since you ignored his text messages. And in fact, he was quite bitter about it.

“Um, I’ll go upstairs and put my bags down.” you said, taking your bags in hand.

“Y-yeah sure, I’ll go with you.” he replied, giving you way to walk through.

You both went up to your room and had everything settled down. He was about to leave when you were going to change, but as he went to his left, you went to your right. It was a funny scene for a while until you noticed him limping.

“Ah.” Jeonghan held back a profanity, making a face as pain shot up his ankle, sitting on your bed.

You looked at him with eyebrowed raised. “Hannie, are you okay?” leaning down to check on his ankle that he had been holding.

Instead of answering you and worrying about himself, all Jeonghan could hear was the change of name calling you did, and his heart never beated this fast before.

“What did you just say?”

Realising this, you immediately stood up turned around, “Nothing, I-“

He pulled you to face him again, making you lean towards him, your knee on the side of your bed, a hand held on his chest and your faces just inches away.

“You called me ‘Hannie’.” he smirked as you blushed.

“You heard wrong!” you denied, eyes looking frantically side to side.

He hummed, just hearing your multiple excuses.

“W-what? I- I wanted to call you t-that for a while and-“

Like a slow motioned video, your body sank forward and you felt arms wrapped around your back. Jeonghan’s lips brushed to yours, and his grip on you tightened, but it was warm, and you could tell he was longing for your presence since you were away. The kiss became passionate and once you both pulled away, it left you both breathless.

“You can call me Hannie- or honey, as long as I can start calling you my B.” he said, and his cheeks were flushed as you looked back at him. “Pun intended.”

You nodded, and poke his nose in agreement. “Okay.”

He closed the gap between you two again.

“Sweet.”

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God -Chapter 16

Warnings: Mention of rape, graphic violence, and language. 

Chapter Sixteen

“So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

-26 Days After-

The morning was cool for June as Ophelia snapped her thigh holster in place. She slid her hand gun into place. She hoisted her shotgun over her shoulder and stuck her blade in her boot. She didn’t like guns, but after her last run in with the Rogues she wasn’t in a position to deny the necessity. Plus, she’d never felt so badass in her life. She left Emerson asleep, hugging her pillow, and made sure to give Sam a really big kiss goodnight. She left him breathless. His love wasn’t lost on her. She could tell that their hearts beat together every time he looked at her.

He wouldn’t approve of her going out in the field, but it wasn’t about him and her, it was about Emerson. At the end of the day it was the Maklen sisters. If they had to pick, it would always be each other. She had to do it for her sister.

Pheli leaned against the tree, waiting for the rest of the group. She sipped her coffee out of her canteen, and focused on the colors in the sky as the sun teased the horizon.  

“Well, Hell in a hand basket, you showed up after all.”

“Ash.” Pheli said with a smile. “Morning.”

“We had a bet runnin that you wouldn’t show up.” He flipped the bottom of his mullet over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “And whys that?”

He shrugged. “Gender bias, probably.”

Ash was a serious genius. He didn’t look like much in his cut off flannel and mullet, but he went to MIT before it all went to shit. He made the water filter system in the camp and was solely responsible for the gate around the community. He was damn fun at get togethers, too. The first night by the fire he ended up buddying up with her and Sam singing along with Benny. He made a genuine fool out of himself, and that made him okay in Pheli’s book.

“So fucked up.”

“Agreed.” He said, adjusting his machete on his shoulder. “Let’s head to the Jeep. Gordon’s probably already there.”

“Who else is coming?” She asked as they began their walk to the gate where the Jeep was parked.

Ash shrugged, walking with a bit of a bounce in his step. “Hell if I know. People don’t tell me shit. Always be underestimated, Blondie. When you are, it’s really easy to surprise people.” He offered her a wide grin.

“I know exactly what you mean.” She said smoothly.

Her hair was in two braids down her back to keep her hair out of the way. There were no flowers in them that day. There was no time for glitter and pleasantries.

Ash was right. Gordon was already in the front seat, tapping the steering wheel impatiently. “Shot gun!” Ash called with a wide grin, breaking out into a funny, wobbling jog to the Jeep.

Pheli rolled her eyes and picked up her speed. She opened the back door and slid in.

“Surprised you made it.” Gordon grunted from the front seat.

“Lots of that going around.” She said, shifting her weight to keep her knife from digging into her calf.

The door to her right opened up and Dean slid in next to her, wearing a wide ear-to-ear grin. “Ready to go!”

Pheli started at him her heart rate leaping at the sight of him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“Cas mentioned your heroic volunteering. Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

“Did you tell Sam?”

“And let him try to follow you? No fucking way.” Dean laughed breathlessly. He reached forward and patted Gordon’s arm, causing Pheli to flinch instinctively. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Ash?” Gordon asked, starting the Jeep.

Ash leaned forward and pressed a garage door opener, causing the gates to spring to life. They opened with a creak and a groan. “Outward and onward.”

Gordon pulled out of the camp and headed back toward the city. “We don’t have many more runs to Dallas. It’s about picked dry.”

“And overrun.” Ash agreed.

“So.” Dean said, leaning close to Pheli. “What’s this about?”

“I wanted to wear the cute thigh holster.” She said, deadpanned.

“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, not sounding at all convinced.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before he poked her leg.

“God, what?”

“I go by Dean, actually.”

Pheli glared at him. “Was this your plan all along? Trap me in the backseat so I can’t run from you? You want to ask about her. We just talked yesterday. I said...”

“You said you’d talk to her. Did you?”

“She isn’t ready, Dean.”

“Isn’t ready for what?” He asked, weakly. “If you haven’t noticed the world is ending.” He said, gesturing to the wreckage outside the Jeep. “We are on sort of limited time here.”

Pheli sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not my place to tell you. It’s hers, if she wants to.” She said low enough for only him to hear it.

In the front seat Ash sang along to some old cassette tape that was jammed in the Jeep’s radio. It was loud enough to drown them out. She just hoped Gordon wasn’t paying attention.

“I don’t wanna lose her again.”

“You two are so fucking frustrating, you know?”

“Try being a part of it.” He said with a dry laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“We need to cut your hair.”

“What? The long hair is only cute on Sam?” He teased.

“Yes actually.”

“Hurtful, Phel. You’ve got a mean streak. Who would’ve known?”

Gordon turned down the radio and glanced at Dean and Pheli in the rear view mirror. “We are approaching our drop point. We will split in groups of two. Ash has maps of the places around the block that need to be searched and what’s expected to be found in each place. We have a list of supplies that we need, but if you see anything worthwhile grab it. And Ash that doesn’t include skin mags and more ball caps.”

“You have to have culture to have a functioning society, Gordon, you snob.” Ash complained.

“Everyone has been issued a watch. We are staying an hour. That means that when we exit the Jeep, it will be rolling out in sixty minutes. With or without all of us, so make sure you’re back and buckled in before that hour is up. If not, I hope you’re a good runner, because you’ll be footing it back to camp. Keep your guard up, and try not to shoot unless you have to. Sound attracts them. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Pheli said, leaning around the seat.

“What is it?”

“I want to team up with you.”

Gordon shrugged. “Fine.”

“Aw, my ego is fucking bruised, sister.” Dean complained.

“Don’t sister me, Winchester.”

“Alright get your fucking head in the game team.” Gordon said, pulling into downtown. Ash handed the maps along with the packs that were required to make the run.

“Everyone has the same list.” Ash explained. “Just get what you can. Use common sense and you’ll be fine.” He offered a smile before the Jeep rolled to a stop.

“Sixty minutes.” Gordon said, making eye contact with Ophelia in the mirror. “Let’s go.”

****

Emerson stretched out in bed, reaching out and missing her sisters warmth next to her. “Phel..” She groaned sleepily. When she didn’t get a response, she sat up slowly. The tent was empty.

She rubbed her eyes and stood up, still crouching so her head didn’t graze the top of the tent, and she wrapped her blanket around her. She expected to find her sister cuddled up with Sam, or getting her morning coffee. Pheli was all about her beauty sleep, but ever since the incident with Gordon neither girl was able to sleep well.

She poked her head out of the tent. The camp was quiet, still lulled in the early moments of morning.

She felt dead most of the time. Like Gordon reached up inside of her and pulled out the part of her that was human. The part of her that was alive. She wondered if it was how the Rogue’s felt. Sometimes she felt like she was on autopilot, just doing what was expected. She smiled when it was required, even though it never reached her eyes. She knew that Pheli had to see it, but she didn’t comment on it. She was giving Emerson space and that was truly all she could ask for. She’d successfully dodged Dean since that last moment that they had with Lisa. She couldn’t stand it, looking into his warm green eyes. She couldn’t have him look at her like he wanted to see the sky within her, because the fucking sky was dark. There were no more stars. There was no moon. There was nothing but darkness.

She squinted at the camp. The burning embers left in the fire showed the late night conversations had by old friends. It was the only sign that anyone lived there. Everything else was still.

She took advantage of the stillness to get some coffee and to just befor a bit. She wouldn’t have to act or pretend. She could just sit and fill the hole inside of her with black coffee and dark thoughts. She pulled her blanket tightly to her chest, closing herself into it, as she walked to the coffee cart. She didn’t care if it was last nights brew or if she had to brew it herself, she would suckle the caffeine and try to remember how to be a person, because every day that went by was harder and harder to remember how.

She reached the coffee stand, and picked up the insulated pitcher and poured into one of the available canteens.

“Pour me one?”

Her back stiffened and she turned to see Lisa standing with her baby strapped to her chest. “I was just up getting Ben back to sleep. He gets restless sometimes. A walk usually puts him right back down, but Mommy needs a pick me up.”

“Sure.” Emerson said, forcing a smile. She offered the canteen that she poured for herself. Suddenly coffee didn’t sound as good as it had before.

“Emerson, right?” She took the canteen, and gratefully sipped at it.

“That’s me.” She hugged her blanket around herself, like a protective layer.

“You came with Sam and Dean.”

“You’re observant.”

“You don’t like me much.”

“Very observant.”

Lisa shifted her weight, bouncing Ben. “You know Dean and me...”

“He’s all yours.” Emerson said quickly. “I won’t be standing in your way.” She caught a glimpse of little Bens freckled face, and she felt sick to her stomach.

“I don’t need your permission to pursue him.”

“But you’ve got it anyway.” She forced a smile. “Life is sometimes nice that way. I better get back to bed, Pheli will be looking for me.” She pushed past Lisa, trying to hold everything in. She was the little Dutch boy with her finger in the dam. Any minute now everything would come rushing out, and sweep her away.

“Emerson.” Lisa said, causing Em’s feet to plant in the dirt. She waited for whatever Lisa wanted to say. She didn’t know why. She didn’t owe the woman anything. She wasn’t the bad guy. She was backing down. What else was she expected to do? “It isn’t up to us, you know. Dean was always a complex man, but this part isn’t complicated. He either loves me or he doesn’t. There’s nothing else to it.”

Emerson smiled bitterly to herself. “If you really think that, you’re so much dumber than I thought.”

She didn’t wait for a response, and made her way back to her tent. She didn’t make it a habit of shitting on other women. It wasn’t the way she was raised. Women were allies. They had to stick together, but this time... this time was too much for her. She didn’t have the patience to rise above. She’d lost enough.

She curled up in her blankets, pulling them over her head. She sat under there, and she pulled out her bag. She dug all the way to the bottom and pulled out a notebook and her pen. It was getting close to the end of the notebook. Time had gotten away from her. She clicked the pen a few times, before flipping to an open page.

Dear Dean,

I want to go find you. I want to walk over to your tent, pull you out of bed, and shake you until you understand. I need you to understand. More than anything I need things to be different. I need all of this to not have happened. I’ve coped. Haven’t you watched me cope all this time? I got over you. (Am I seriously trying to lie? Way to go, Em) I was a kid when this all started. When I watched you walk away. But I coped. I’m still coping.

But still I want to go find you. I want to let you remind me what it feels like to be alive. He fucking hurt me, Dean. In a way a person should never have to be hurt. I thought the way that you hurt me was the worst thing I’d ever feel, but losing you... that hurt in my heart. This is different. He reached inside of me and cracked me open. He stole pieces that will not allow me to be whole ever again.

Part of me wants you to fix it. I know if I asked you to, you would crack pieces of yourself to put me back together, but what would that make me? I can’t give you what I need when I’m like this. Not when I still wake up in a cold sweat feeling his weight on me.

All I’ve ever been for you is complicated. Things have never been easy. It was never the right time. Who are we to think that this is the right time? During the fucking apocalypse, of all times. You deserve something better. You deserve what I wish I could let myself be.

I remember the night at the ocean before you left. I remember what I almost... you said you wanted it to be real. I’m not real, Dean. I’m not myself. Not anymore. I’m a shell with Emersons face. The girl you knew is dead.

I am so sorry for your loss.

Em

She closed the notebook, shutting away her letter along with dozens of others from the years that she never sent. That she never had any intention to send. The wall around her heart was complete. Brick by brick. She was a princess in a tower of her own design. A tower with no escape hatch and even when the prince came... she would not let down her hair. She would ignore his calls and pray to a god that wasn’t listening that he would go away. That he will finally leave her to her poison thoughts and shackles. That he would finally leave her alone with the greatest monster of all, herself.

****

Pheli’s bag weighed heavily on her shoulders as she climbed a set of stairs behind Gordon. They spent the first forty-five minutes finding most things on the list. She’d scored with a huge bottle of low grade pain killers and several canned goods. There was soap and clean underwear tucked in the bottom of her bag. Gifts for Emerson. After everything was over Pheli wanted to burn her old ones. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

Gordon wasn’t in a chatty mood. Every time Pheli tried to get him to talk to her long enough to get anything from him, he would just grunt and move on to the next aisle. She was getting really fucking tired of it.

“So where are you from, Gordon?”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s all gone now. Look for some honey. Cas likes it.”

Pheli’s eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner to of sight. He knew she was circling him.

“Is there really more stuff up this high?” She asked, gripping the railing as they ascended the stair’s, climbing higher and higher.

“There’s somethin important up here.” He grunted out.

He unlatched the door, swinging it open. His boot crunched as he passed through the threshold. She followed him, stepping into the sunlight. They were on the roof. She frowned and turned to him, watching him latch the door again, locking them up there together.

She crossed her arms. “What the fuck are you doing, Gordon?”

“I’m not stupid, Ophelia. You volunteered because you have something to say to me. So have at it.”

“You presumptuous fuck.”

“Oh so you don’t have anything to say? I sleep with your sister and you don’t care. Great. I was worried that there was something off with you two, but maybe not.”

Bile rose in Pheli’s throat. It stung and bubbled like the rage within her. “You...You...”

“I fucked her. Yeah, I know. It was okay.” He shrugged. “Can’t be too picky around here.”

“You son of a bitch. You raped her.”

“She was flirting with me all night.” He said flatly, approaching Pheli slowly enough that she wasn’t preparing against it. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Leave her alone when she said no.”

“Gotta repopulate the human race. Can’t be so picky.” He shrugged smugly.

“And you can sleep at night with that logic?”

“Like a baby.”

It was so fucking wrong. It was wrong that he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, while Emerson cried in her sleep. It was disgusting. She didn’t feel sick anymore. Her skin was hot, and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It wooshed like the sound of waves at the ocean.

“You fucking men think you can do whatever you want.” She said, closing the space between them.

He reached forward, pushing a loose hair behind her ear. “We don’t think, Princess.” He leaned in to her ear. “We know.”

Something possessed Ophelia in that moment. The girl who was made of cinnamon sugar got a hint of cayenne. Something sparked in her. Maybe it was his hot breath against her neck, or the smug sound of his voice, but something overwhelmed her. It was like she was watching her body from above as she grabbed the back of his neck and slammed her forehead into his, knocking him backwards.

He was taken off guard and he stumbled. Her head pounded in response, but her adrenaline kept her moving forward, her self defense class she took in college bubbling up to the surface. She pulled back and kicked him square in the chest, her leg aching from the strain in her muscle as he fell directly on his back.

His head smacked the concrete of the roof, and he looked up at her shock present on his full lips and wide eyes. “You’re going to regret that, you bitch!”

“I already do.” She said, pressing the heel of her boot to his throat. He gasped in response. “I regret not hitting you sooner. I think you’ve seriously made me stupider since I had to listen to you talk. Is it contagious, Gordon?”

He gurgled, unable to respond due to the boot pressed firmly against his Adam’s apple. He clawed at it, but she had the upper hand. “Tsk tsk. Better not. It doesn’t take much pressure at all to break that little ball in your throat. I wonder what the survival rate of that is in a post apocalyptic world?” She smiled, saying it all a little too sweetly, as she pulled his gun off the holder on his belt. She tossed it away, and it clanked as it skipped across the ground.

She pulled her shot gun off her shoulder and loaded it, cocking it into place with a sharp click. “Get on your fucking knees, and don’t try anything funny.” She said, removing her foot.

He immediately gasped, clawing at his throat as a breath flowed back through him.

“Now, you son of a bitch. Knees!”

He complied, climbing up to his knees. She pressed the shot gun barrel to his head, directly between his eyes. “No.” He muttered between snotty tears. His hands came up in front of his chest, his palms facing her in surrender. “D...don’t do it. I’ll apologize.”

“But you aren’t sorry, Gordon. That’s the problem. People like you just take what they fucking want no matter what the cost. You hurt my sister.”

“I did.” He sobbed, his voice trembling. Clear snot rolled down out of his nose and onto his lip.

There was no satisfaction for Pheli in his tears.

“You have to pay for that Gordon.”

“You aren’t a killer, Ophelia. Don’t do this.”

She laughed, causing the barrel of the gun to tremble against his skull. The cool metal leaving an indention on his skin. “Maybe not, but there’s no law anymore. There’s no justice. There are just people and monsters. The people kill the monsters, and from the little time I’ve known you, it’s pretty obvious to me what side you’re on.”

“I’m not a monster! I... I will be a better man...I’ll...”

“It’s too late for that, Gordon.” Pheli said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Make peace with whatever god you believe in.”

There was something tragic about the loss of innocence. The loss of faith in humanity. The loss of hope. Pheli stared down the length of her shotgun and said goodbye to the part of her that was human. Because he was right. She wasn’t a killer, but if it was between her sister and her innocence it was an easy pick.

She wouldn’t be the girl with flowers in her hair anymore, but maybe that was okay. Maybe it was time for her to retire her braids and grow the fuck up.

She pulled the gun off his skin, just back far enough.

“Please...” He begged, as her finger rested on the trigger. “I had a sister, too. I lost her. I lost her. I lost...”

Bang!

—————

Chapter Seventeen

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