#and yet. some people are out here giggle brushing or whatever the fuck for sixteen minutes and counting

[ephemeral-winter]

never having experienced it myself I can only guess at the infatuation of the honeymoon stage extending such that you find merely brushing your teeth together charming but you simply cannot be pulling those shenanigans in a four bed one bath apartment. go giggle somewhere else i have to pee

[ptergwen]

Hi val! Got a request, it's okay if you don't wanna write it, but can you write about peter telling the reader he's going on a huge mission and he's excited about it but the reader is so worried they end up arguing? But when peter gets back from mission all bruised, the reader is still upset but dresses his wound anyway and it ends up with fluff??

abort mission

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: mentions of blood, swearing, and angst

a/n: woah woah woah i ended up writing way more than i expected but i loved this request so much :,) i hope you do too

-

“we’re staying in this, like, super fancy castle while we’re there. it’s gonna be awesome,” peter rambles to you. he takes all the clean shirts in his drawer and throws them into a suitcase.

he’s packing for a mission in europe with the avengers, and you’re here to say goodbye. you’ve been pretty quiet while peter gives you as many details as he’s allowed to. it’s always an honor when the team invites him on. he gets so stoked about it. you’re happy he’s happy and gets to pursue his passion, but you’ve noticed a pattern.

every time peter leaves the country with earth’s mightiest heroes, he comes back in worse condition than the last. it seems like they protect everyone except peter. he’s oblivious to the fact that the end result is always his suffering. he’s just glad to be there. really, he gets nothing in return except scars that never heal, not even a permanent spot on the team. 

so, you’re not thrilled he agreed to go.

“plus, i get to miss two weeks of school.” peter beams, getting onto his knees to zip the suitcase. “feels like a vacation almost.” “you like school, though,” you remind him. you’re sat at the edge of his bed while you watch, rather than help. he hops up again with a shrug. “i like vacations more.” “it’s not a vacation,” you mutter to yourself, then speak up.

“how are you gonna catch up? that’s a lot of missing assignments.” with that same innocent smile, peter walks over to you. he grabs both your hands and laces your fingers together. “i’m a fast learner. besides, ned said he’d help me.” you sigh, looking down at the floor so you don’t have to look at peter. “or, you could. make it into a little study date when i get back,” he suggests while playing with your fingers.

“i don’t even want you to go,” you finally admit and meet his sparkling eyes. nothing could ever dull them. “why not? you’re gonna miss me?” peter teases, pressing a couple of kisses to your palm. “you don’t have to. i’m pretty sure france has wifi.” he wiggles his eyebrows. “oui oui, mademoiselle, eh?” despite yourself, you giggle at his french accent and tug on his hands. he sits down next to you with a chuckle.

“nat has been giving me lessons,” peter explains, you quirking an eyebrow. “she speaks french?” “she speaks a lot of languages, actually. she’s so cool.” peter scoots closer to you and sets his hands on your waist, his voice dropping. “you’d love her.” your face twists up in confusion at the idea.

you don’t have anything against the avengers, obviously. they’re good people. you’re just not the biggest fan of them at the moment, considering the circumstances they’ve put peter under.

“peter, i don’t want you to go,” you repeat more seriously than before. your teeth sink into your lower lip. “and, it’s not because i’ll miss you.” “none taken,” peter jokes, implying there should’ve been a no offense. he then realizes how distressed you look, so he cuts it out. “sorry, sorry. i’m done now. how come?”

you take his hand again and hold it tight. “what if you get hurt?” you ask in the nicest way possible, out of care. “i don’t wanna see you hurting, pete. this mission sounds really... dangerous.” he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, his grin faltering a bit. “it is, but i’m ready for it. i’ll be fine.”

you’re not convinced yet. that line he likes to overuse isn’t enough to do the trick.

his eyes searching for yours, peter brushes a piece of your hair back. “have a little faith in me, babe.” “no, i... i do. i have the most faith in you, peter.” you find yourself frowning as he twirls your locks around his finger. “that’s not the problem.” peter’s voice becomes a whisper. “what is it, then? talk to me.”

you do the opposite because you’re afraid you’ll upset him further, which is the last thing he needs right now. your silence prompts peter to fill it. “would it make you feel better if i say mr. stark is keeping an eye on me?” he’s smiling sheepishly, you scoffing. “oh, like he kept an eye on you in amsterdam?”

the only eye related activity that happened there was peter almost losing one of his. he’d come back with an eyepatch and couldn’t see out of it for over a month. to this day, there’s still a bit of blood in it when you look close enough.

“i already told you, that was my fault,” peter grumbles, turning so he faces forward. “i didn’t listen to him-“ “who gives a shit? he’s the one who put you in that situation!” you blurt out. you’ve been way too patient this whole time, and now you’re reaching your breaking point. “you say that like i didn’t wanna be there.” peter clenches his jaw, still mostly calm.

“either way, mr. stark,” you mock what peter always calls him, “was supposed to keep you safe, and he didn’t. i’m scared it’s gonna happen again.” letting out a noise close to a growl, peter stands up from the bed. “you’re not listening to me, y/n. everything was fine. i just-“ you’re not in the mood to hear him make excuses, so you interrupt.

“do you know any other sixteen year olds who fight literal terrorists on their free time?” you rhetorically ask and get to your own feet. peter tries to walk away from you, only you follow him. “you’re a kid, peter, in case you forgot.” he spins around to give you a nasty look. “do you know any other sixteen year olds who stick to fucking walls?”

your heart starts to race from his sudden outburst. he’s scary when he’s mad, and he almost never gets mad at you. all you can do is blink dumbly. “didn’t think so,” peter spits. “this is what i’m supposed to do, help people. is that so wrong?” his breathing becomes ragged as his anger grows.

“what about you? are you helping yourself?” you speak softly, expecting an answer this time. “you’re not my fucking therapist, y/n,” he deflects the question. “i am your girlfriend, though. i care about you so much, you know that.” eyebrows furrowed in concern, you reach out for peter. he takes a step back. it doesn’t take long for tears to cloud your vision.

“i was excited to share this with you, and i thought you’d be happy for me.” peter balls his hands into fists at his sides. his voice stays low. “instead, you made it all about yourself. you can never let me enjoy team stuff.” you’re speechless, peter nodding as he lets his words sit. “thanks for the support.”

“you’re an asshole,” you laugh out bitterly and wipe under your eyes.

he didn’t mean to make you cry. he was so caught up in himself, he didn’t realize you were.

peter’s whole demeanor changes. “y/n, baby...” he attempts to put a hand on your cheek, but you hit it away. “get off of me. what did i just say?” you sniffle, your tone harsh in contrast. “you’re an asshole, peter.” he changes his mind about feeling bad. you’ve berated him way more than he did you, anyway.

“you should go. i have to be up early,” peter decides, even though he’d said you could stay the night. whatever, you don’t want to anymore. “fine,” you agree shortly. “i’m leaving.” he stands there while you collect your things, shoving them into your bag. you’re going slow enough so he has a chance to stop you. he doesn’t.

you pass by him on your way to his door, sucking in a breath. here’s your official goodbye. “see you later, peter. don’t die.” “mhm, i won’t,” he replies, his tongue poking at his cheek. with one more shared look between you two, you make your grand exit, no doubt informing may of her nephew’s behavior before you’re gone.

peter immediately regrets the way he talked to you, and that you’re leaving things like this. you were only trying to protect him. you’ll never be able to save the city like he does, so this is how you do it. he truly is an asshole for not seeing that.

frustration consuming him, peter kicks over his fully stuffed suitcase, its contents spilling out. he grits his teeth.

“fan-fucking-tastic.”

-

you don’t talk to peter the whole two weeks he’s gone except for some are you alive and yes texts. he’d called you quite a few times, and was sent to voicemail for all of them. he gave you the benefit of the doubt because of timezones.

it was actually because you declined, which peter knew deep down was the real reason.

he’s coming home from his mission today. you’re not sure when or if he plans on dropping by. you’re not sure you’d like him to, either. you don’t really get a choice in the end.

there’s a series of knocks at your window, at some ungodly time in the night. you’re all too familiar with this routine. it’s peter.

you slip out from under your covers, a scowl already painting your face as you go to the window. surely enough, peter is perched in front of it, clad in red and black. the suit must be new because you’ve never seen it. you push up the window and step aside so he can get through.

“thanks,” peter mumbles, climbing into your room less gracefully than usual. he’s sort of wobbly when he lands. “yeah,” you dully acknowledge. “how was france?” “uh, good. you know, lots of cheese and all that.” his voice is muffled from his mask, since he hasn’t taken it off yet. that’s odd. “i was talking about the mission, but cool,” you almost laugh back.

“the mission was... fine,” peter clarifies and scratches the back of his neck. he never describes something as simply being ‘fine.’ when the boy talks, he lectures. you’re starting to get worried. “that’s good. at least you didn’t die, right?” you say to lighten the mood. peter awkwardly chuckles. “haha, yeah. thank god for that.”

you hum and walk over to sit on your bed, peter staying where he is. “what time did you get back?” you wonder, a completely harmless question. “um, this morning,” he says in response, raising your suspicions. “why’re you still in the suit, then?” you squint at him. “i like it, by the way.” “thanks, y/n/n. i, uh,” peter trails off, no good explanations coming to mind.

you’re quickly developing a hunch for what what down. you wordlessly get up again, meeting peter by your window. he’s nervous to see what happens next. peter’s shoulders slump when your fingers land on his mask. you carefully lift it, revealing his face to you. his banged up, bloody face.

“surprise.” peter musters up a grin, you tossing the mask at his chest. you’re beyond angry now. it’s not at him, athough it is at his injuries. “please don’t be mad,” he nearly begs, you shaking your head. you go to leave your room for some space. peter’s fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back. “i should’ve listened to you, okay? i’m sorry,” he genuinely apologizes.

you still don’t say anything while you look over his beaten body. there’s a gash with stitches in it on his chin, a deep slice across the bridge of his nose, cuts littering his cheeks. he’s even got a busted lip for good measure. this might be the worst condition he’s let you see him in.

“you were right, y/n. i think... i think i’m gonna sit the next one out. it’s too much for me, clearly,” peter continues, fingers sliding down to lock with yours. “you should say you told me so.” “how... how did this happen?” you manage to get out instead. “the bad guy fought me,” he says with the hint of a smirk. “i won, though.”

it’s a relief that he’s handling this so well, even earning a laugh from you. that puts you more at ease.

“this is probably a dumb question, but are you okay?” you brush your thumb over peter’s cheekbone gently, avoiding his scratches. “not really. my face hurts a lot, and flash is gonna tease the hell out of me on monday.” his lips form a line, arms looping around your waist. it’s very much welcomed by you.

“you just spent two weeks trying not to die, and you’re worried about flash?” you snicker and draw a heart on his skin. peter shrugs a shoulder. “he’s so mean to me.” he brings you in closer to him. “besides, this is the normal kid stuff i should be focusing on.” you’re glad he finally came to terms with that. you’ve been saying it for the longest time.

you smile wickedly at him. “exactly. so is all that homework you have to make up.” peter lets out a breathy laugh, you laying your head on his chest. “i missed you,” he tells you quietly. “really wish i could kiss you right now.” “i missed you too, pete. so much,” you murmur into him. your hands settle on his biceps. “and, i forgive you.” “thanks, baby,” peter exhales.

“of course. once your lips are healed,” you pull back from his chest, making a kissing noise. “pucker up, lover- oh my god.” you’re looking up at him with wild eyes. peter gets reasonably startled from it. “what? what’s wrong?” “you... you’re bleeding!” you point at his stitches. he winces, touching the spot. there’s blood, alright.

“crap. do you have a bandaid or something?” peter gives you an apologetic smile. “mr. stark said i should cover them when this happens.” maybe, tony isn’t so bad after all. you nod and take him by his hand. “yeah, in the bathroom. come with me.”

peter sits on the edge of your bathtub while you patch up his chin. he tells you more about the fun parts of his mission, you placing the cinderella bandaid over his gash. you have those from a while ago and also regular ones. however, he preferred the princess design.

“you saw the real mona lisa? like, in person? that’s insane.” you grin, smoothing down peter’s bandaid one last time. “yeah, she’s even prettier up close.” peter returns the smile. “thanks for taking care of me, y/n. i swear i don’t deserve you sometimes.” now pouting at him, you crouch down so you’re at his level. “it’s the other way around, peter.”

“let’s just agree to disagree,” he concludes and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “i love you, okay?” “i love you, too.” you press a light kiss to his bandaid, getting a giggle from peter.

yeah, it’s going to be hell finding replacements for his lips.

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

New World CH. Two

Title: Problems

Words: 2,572

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of rape and death (no actual rape or death)

A/N: Here’s chapter two! Hope you enjoy!

If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you! 

If you’d like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi!

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Daryl Dixon Masterlist

Walking Dead Masterlist

Masterlist

~~~~~~~

[Y/n]

When you woke up the next morning, Adeline had managed to starfish in her sleep and you laughed softly, brushing her hair out of her face. You heard a groan come from behind you and you whipped around to see a sleepy Sam sitting up.

 “Jesus, Sam, don’t scare me like that,” you said.

 “Sorry,” Sam said with a yawn. You just shook your head and looked around.

 “Where’s Dean?”

 “Probably outside getting food. You know how he is in the mornings.”

 “Good to know that hasn’t changed,” you said with a laugh. Sniffing the air, you smelled eggs and pancakes.

 “Seems you haven’t either,” Sam teased.

 “Oh hush.”

 “We still have your things from before we got separated. Dean brought them into the tent last night while you were sleeping.” Sam pointed to the corner of the tent and you saw a duffel and a backpack.

 “Thanks.”

 “Get dressed then come get breakfast. We still have people to introduce you to.”

 “Alright. I’ll be out in a minute.”

 Sam gave you a smile before leaving the tent. You quickly got dressed and when you were putting on your shoes, Adeline woke up.

 “Mommy!” She launched herself at you and you caught her with a grunt.

 “Hey, baby,” you cooed as you picked her up. Adeline buried her face in your neck and clung to you.

 “I missed you,” she said, sniffing lightly.

 “Oh, baby, I missed you too.” You pressed a kiss to her hair and set her down. Wiping away her tears, you looked her in the eyes. “Why don’t you get dressed and we can go get some breakfast, yeah?”

 “Okay.”

 You kissed her forehead and helped her pick out an outfit for the day. Once she was all ready to go, the two of you walked out of the tent and to the campfire where breakfast was being served.

 “You’re up, good!” Carol said. She came up to you with two plates full of food and handed one to you and the other to Adeline. “I was just about to see if you were awake or not.”

 “Thank you. I appreciate it,” you said to her with a smile. “Do you know where my brothers are?”

 “They’re over by the house, talking with Rick and Hershel.” She started walking away and you followed her to the fire.

 “Hershel?”

 “The owner of the farm.”

 “Ah, okay. Makes sense. What are they talking about? Or is it a need to know thing?” You asked.

 “Now that Sophia’s found, they’re trying to see if Hershel will let us stay on the farm.”

 “I hope they do. It seems like a relatively safe place,” you said. “A place where these kids can grow up.”

 “I agree. Now why don’t you two go sit down and enjoy the food. I’m sure that the others would love to get to know you better.”

 “Alright. Thank you.”

 “You’re welcome, sweetie.” Carol poked Ada’s nose, making her giggle and you smile, before she walked away.

 Stomach growling, you sat down and ripped into your food. Moaning quietly, you didn’t see Lori piling more food on your plate or your brothers coming out of the house. Nobody complained about you getting extra food and you jumped when you felt a hand on your head. Reaching for your knife, Lori stopped you before you could stab Dean.

 “Woah, easy sweetheart. It’s just me,” Dean said.

 “Sorry,” you said with a sheepish grin. “Morning.”

 “Morning,” he said to you. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before sitting next to you, placing Ada on his lap. “Sorry for scaring you.”

 “It’s okay. Guess I’ve just been a bit tense.”

 “How did you make it all alone?” Dale asked. “Don’t want to offend, but you’re a small little thing. All by yourself all that time?”

 “It helped that I already knew how to use a gun and how to fight hand to hand with and without a knife. I already knew how to make traps and hunt so if I was successful I had something to eat. Slept in trees if there wasn’t any shelter around. I’m also light on my feet and know how to get around without being spotted.” You shrugged and shoved more food in your mouth.

 “She took me down pretty easy,” Daryl said through a mouthful of food. “I didn’t even know she was there ‘til a knife was at my throat.”

 “Atta girl,” Dean said with a grin.

 “Thanks,” you said to Dean. To Daryl you said, “I am sorry about that. You snuck up on me and I panicked.”

 “Thought I was a geek?”

 “No,” you shook your head. “I knew you weren’t one of them.”

 “You were worried about people?” Rick asked.

 “Yeah. It was about a month ago I think. Time is a blur so I don’t remember exactly when I saw them, but there was a dad and his two daughters. Four men came along and did, uh, things to the girls. They were maybe fifteen or sixteen, just kids, and made their dad watch. Didn’t even kill him. Just left afterwards. Two of them didn’t do anything but one of them looked like he wanted to.” You swallowed harshly. “Heard your footsteps and thought you were part of their group.”

 “What made ya follow me?” Daryl said after a moment.

 “Your voice, the tone of it. Your actions too. They would’ve started sweet-talking me, trying to lull me into a false sense of security. You didn’t do that.” Looking at him with a small smile, you turned back to your food.

 “That’s awful,” Carol said quietly. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

 “Unfortunately, it’s not the worst I’ve seen. But thank you.”

 “You done with your food, [y/n]?” Lori asked you. You nodded and she took your plate.

 “I’m gonna introduce you to Hershel,” Rick said. “C’mon.”

 “Don’t leave mommy!” Adeline said as she tried to get out of Dean’s hold.

 “I’ll be right back, baby. Don’t you worry.” You brushed her hair back and Adeline nodded slowly.

 Sam took your plate from you and pushed you towards Rick lightly.

 “Hershel is a veterinarian. He’s been helping heal any wounded. He helped save Carl, my son, and T-Dog,” Rick said as he led you to the house.

 “What happened to Carl?”

 “He got shot,” Rick said. “One of his men was hunting a buck and didn’t see Carl approaching it. Bullet went clean through the deer and hit Carl. He almost died but Hershel saved him.”

 “Any lasting consequences?”

 “Not so far. We’re still making him take it slow, but he should be alright.”

 “Good.” You let out a sigh and Rick opened the door to the house.

 “After you.”

 ---

 “Hershel, this is Sam and Dean’s sister, [y/n]. Daryl found her and Sophia in the woods while searching for Sophia yesterday.”

 “It’s nice to meet you, [y/n].”

 “Nice to meet you too. I heard about what you did to save that little boy’s life. And I am really grateful you’re giving my daughter a safe place to stay.”

 “It was the right thing to do,” Hershel said. You shook your head.

 “The worlds gone to shit, excuse my language. It might have been the right thing to do, but most men wouldn’t have done it. Whatever you need, just ask.”

 “I appreciate it. Have you met my daughters yet?” You shook your head and he introduced you to Maggie and Beth.

 “Patricia and Jimmy are doing some chores around the farm, but I’ll make sure to introduce you to them before dinner. For now, you can use the shower if you’d like. We have hot water, but go easy on it. Maggie, could you show her to the bathroom?”

 “Yes. Follow me.”

 You followed Maggie up the stairs as she led you to a bathroom.

 “Feel free to use whatever shampoo and soap you’d like. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

 “Thank you, Maggie,” you said. “I do really appreciate you letting me use your hot water.”

 “It’s no problem. I’ll leave you to yourself.”

 “Alright.”

 She left, closing the door and you started stripping with a sigh. Turning on the water, you didn’t have to wait long until it was hot. When you stepped under the water, you let out a groan of satisfaction and started washing yourself. It felt good to massage and clean your hair, not having shampooed since the world went to shit. You went as fast as you could, not wanting to use all of their hot water accidentally.

 Stepping out when you were squeaky clean, you toweled off and redressed before walking out of the bathroom. It felt weird being in a house that wasn’t run down and even though you knew it was safe enough, you still wanted to get back outside.

 “That was a quick shower,” Maggie said when you got to the living room.

 “Didn’t want to use all the hot water. I’m known for long showers,” you said with a laugh.

 “Me too. Wish I had the resources to do it again, but we gotta live with what we got. Your brothers are outside and so is Adeline,” Maggie said.

 “Thanks.” Before you left, you turned to her. “I hope we can get to know each other better. You seem like a good person.”

 “I was thinking the same thing. After you get settled, we can talk?”

 “I’d like that.” You both smiled at each other and you walked outside. When you got to the camp, everyone was tense and you could tell that something was wrong.

 “What happened?” You asked, picking Adeline up.

 “Glenn just told us that the barn is full of walkers,” Carol said.

 “It’s what?”

 You walked with everyone to the barn and looked inside with Shane after handing Adeline over to Sam.

 “What the fuck?” You said to yourself. Walking backwards with a shake of your head, you looked at Rick.

 “You can’t tell me you’re alright with this,” Shane said to Rick. “You have Lori and Carl to think about here. There’s the girls too.”

 “I’m not okay with it. But we’re guests. This isn’t our land!”

 “But it’s our lives man!”

 “Be quiet,” Glenn said, glancing worriedly at the barn.

 “We can’t just go about our day and forget about this,” Andrea said.

 “I agree. It’s too dangerous. Something could happen and it isn’t right,” you said to Rick. “I know this isn’t our land but we can’t just let this go.”

 “We gotta go in there. We’ve got to make things right or we need to leave. We can go to Fort Benning.”

 “We can’t leave, Shane!” Rick said.

 “Why?”

 “Because this is a place where these kids can grow up,” Carol said. “[Y/n] agrees with me too.”

 Shane looked exasperated and shook his head.

 “A place where the owner keeps walkers in his barn?”

 “Look, we need to figure this out, but arguing amongst ourselves isn’t going to do any fucking good!” You said angrily. “This needs to be a calm conversation. No accusing, no yelling.”

 “You just agreed with me and now you’re taking his side?” Shane said to you. “If you’re gonna do that, you should just stay quiet. Don’t need the opinion of someone who just got here.”

 “I’m taking no one’s side right now. Yes, we need to deal with the walkers, but we also can’t just up and leave a safe place without talking about it rationally! And it doesn’t matter if I just got here or not, I’m here now so keep that in mind.”

 “Just let me and Rick talk to Hershel,” Sam said. “Let us figure it out.”

 “What are you gonna figure out?!” Shane yelled at Sam. You flinched at his booming voice but steeled yourself and shoved a finger into his chest, anger in your eyes.

 “Don’t you dare yell at my brother like that,” you said coldly. “I don’t care if you’re angry, you don’t get to do that.”

 Shane looked at you and he huffed angrily before rolling his eyes and looking away. Adeline was starting to get a little anxious and reached for you. Taking her in your arms, you tried calming her down.

 “This is his land. If we clear out the barn I’m going to need to talk to him.”

 “Hershel sees those things as people,” Dale said. “Sick people. His wife, stepson. People he cared about.”

 “You knew?” Rick asked him.

 “I talked to Hershel yesterday.”

 “And you waited the night?” Shane accused.

 “I thought we could survive one more night. And we did! I was waiting to say something this morning, but Glenn wanted to be the one to tell.”

 “If Hershel thinks those things are alive, he’s crazy, Rick!” Shane yelled.

 At that moment, the walkers started banging on the barn doors, trying to get out. You took a step back and Sam pulled you slightly behind him as you all looked warily at the barn.

 “We need to take this conversation somewhere else,” you said. “If we keep arguing here, they’re going to get out and cause trouble.”

 “She’s right,” Daryl said. “’Sgo back ta camp.”

 Shane stormed off and the rest of the group followed close behind. You stayed at the back of the group with your brothers. Sam was silent for a minute but kept opening his mouth to say something.

 “You don’t have to defend me against Shane,” he said.

 “If he talks to you like that then I will. You’re right, we need to talk to Hershel about it. But he also has a point, Sam. We can’t just let this go.”

 “I know. When did you get so grown up?”

 “I’ve always been more grown up than you, Sammy,” you said with a laugh. You walked past them and towards camp. Sitting down, you started comforting an anxious Adeline, and Carol came up to you.

 “Thank you for defending me,” she said. “You don’t even know us that well but you still did.”

 “Even though I’ve never met y’all, you took care of my daughter and brothers. I’ve been on my own out there and it’s hell. A safe place is what we need right now and I’ll keep defending you even if that asshole thinks I shouldn’t.”

Carol laughed softly and pulled you close. “Thank you,” she whispered. After a second, she let go and went to the stables.

 Looking around, you scanned the horizons, looking for any threats. The barn full of walkers made you super uneasy and on edge. Your hand never left your knife and you tensed when you heard someone walking up to you. Turning, you saw Dean and you relaxed a bit.

 “Hey,” you said with a smile.

 “How are you feeling?”

 “Uneasy,” you said honestly.

 “Me too, sweetheart. Me too.”

 “Has it always been like that?” You asked Dean. “The two of them yelling at each other?”

 “A little bit, yeah. But it has gotten worse.”

 After a minute of silence, you looked at your brother. “Do they know about what we did before the world ended?”

 “They do. The only ones that don’t are Hershel and his family. He’s a bit religious and doesn’t have the same view on walkers as we do, so we thought it might be best not to let them know just yet.”

 “I think that’s a good idea.”

[psychospeak-blog]

Won’t Go Slowly // 68

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"I don't know," you laughed, "I just thought she'd text me back by now.'

"She's probably just holding the baby and that's why she hasn't," Tyler rationalized.  Which he was right, you knew, but Bentley hadn't been happy at all when you dropped him off at your Mom's house so you and Tyler could go on your double date.   "She'd call you if she needed something."

"I know," you said, Tyler's lips turning up in a smile like he was trying not to laugh.  "I've never been away from him for so long before."

"We're not going to be any more than half an hour away if we really need to go back we can," Tyler said, "But he'll be okay.  your mom managed to handle you."

You shot him a look, and he laughed.  "Bentley is an angel compared to you."  

"Well, he wasn't an angel when we left," you said.

"He was like that when we got to my mom's house, too," Tyler said, "And then he warmed up.  He's kinda...what did my mom say?  Attached to you.  He needs time to get familiar with new people because he's too young to remember them."

You made a small noise, and Tyler looked over at you, his hand coming to rest on your knee reassuringly.  "Babe, if it's gonna be that hard for you to leave him, we don't have to go on a date."

"No, I want to go," you said, although leaving him still wasn't your most favourite thing, "I just -- don't want him to forget her."

"He won't," Tyler said softly, and you opened your mouth as if to speak, but took a breath in again.  "You're gonna be facetiming her all the time, she can fly down, you can talk to him about her.."

"No, I know," you said, taking another deep breath.  "I just, when I got pregnant, I just pictured taking him to Grandma's house on the weekends, or meeting for lunch, or have having his own space with his toys in her house -"

"He has that, baby," Tyler said.  And he did because your mom was already talking about getting him his own little table and chairs despite the fact that he wasn't even close to sitting up on his own yet.  

"Yeah," you exhaled, looking out at the road, "She was just gonna be doing this thing with me, you know?  When I was doing it by myself."

"She still will," Tyler said, "I know it's not gonna be the same, but - " Tyler cleared his throat and you swiped quickly at your eyes because you were not about to ruin your make-up when you'd actually taken the time to do it, especially when you wouldn't have to deal with a baby potentially messing up your outfit or grabbing onto your necklace.  

"Don't even," you warned him, "If you start apologizing, I'm not --- I would be way more sad if you were leaving without us."

"Yeah?" Tyler asked, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Yeah, I can handle moving if it means I get ti live with you," you said seriously, taking a breath and then laughing through your emotion.  "We still better come back every summer though. I don’t care how gorgeous the weather in Texas is."

Tyler laughed at your feeble attempt at sounding threatening, like you’d be unwillingly dragging him back to Canada.  "Yeah, well it's still home," he said, thinking for a beat, "Although I hope that Dallas'll feel like home, for you too."

"It will," you said, "you're there, so it will."

"Awe," Tyler said, face scrunched up, half making fun at how sickenly sweet and cliche you were being.  But you meant it.  "I'd kiss you all over the face if I wasn't driving right now."

So you wanted until you told him that you needed to make a left turn at the next light, rising up to press a kiss to his cheek once you were stopped, your attention turning back to the chime of your phone once you started moving again, attracting Tyler's attention when you let out a pleased laugh at what you read.

"My mom said she took Bentley outside for some fresh air and her sprinklers came on and he's transfixed.  So they've just been sitting there watching them."

Tyler snorted out a laugh.  "He's a simple man," he said, "See, I told you'd he'd be okay."

"Yeah," you said, putting your phone back on your purse, feeling better now that you knew he was happier than when you left, looking over at Tyler and thinking.  "Do you worry about leaving him?"

"Umm..." Tyler thought, "I mean, I don't worry, but I feel bad if he's sad when we leave because I want them to enjoy him when he's all happy and cute.  I worry about the stuff, though.  Like I'm looking for a crib and a car seat for him and I'm going through all of the safety ratings and then people are saying you have to make sure the crib slats aren't too far apart so their heads don't get stuck, but then I'm worried if they're too close together his arm's gonna get stuck."

"Yeah," you laughed at his exasperation,  the smile on his face letting you know he wasn't too stressed out about the whole thing.  

"Still not giving you any hints about his room, though," Tyler said.

"Yeah, yeah,' you laughed, "turn in here."

You kept your eyes on Tyler's hands as he made the turn, with watching him driving being one of the most favorite things lately, especially when you had a baby in the backseat.  But that also meant you missed out on the reaction on his face when he saw where you were going.

"Babe, no," Tyler whined, although you could already hear the blinker going as he looked for a parking spot.

"You said we could choose wherever we wanted," you laughed.

"Yeah, because I was trying to be a gentleman," Tyler said, "I didn't think you were gonna make me go painting."

"Well, you said you wanted to do something other than just going out to each," you said, a grin on your face at Tyler's reaction.  

"Yeah, but I meant like," Tyler said, and you laughed at him stumbling over his words, "I  don't know, something athletic or something."

"Oh, so only if it's something you're good at?"

"Are you saying I'm bad at painting?" Tyler accused, breaking into giggles before he even finished asking the question, and you shrugged, lips turning up in a smirk.  "Wait, is this the place you went with Tinder guy?  The second one?"

"You....remember that?"

"Babe," Tyler said seriously.

"I mean, not this particular location..." you said.  "And we had wine because it was evening.  We're gonna have tea because it's an afternoon date."

"Babe," Tyler repeated, laughing now.

"It's not a good date," he said, smiling as he shook his head.

"I had fun," you said, "And I wanted to do it with you.  Someone I actually love."  You smiled at him as you leaned across the console to kiss him.

"Mmm...you are so lucky I'm whipped," he said softly, his hand moving under your chin, tilting your head to give you a proper kiss. "Any other girl, I'd be out of here."

You laughed against his lips but he just smiled, kissing you deeper until there was a quick knock against the window, Tyler keeping his lips attached to yours as he playfully flipped off the person behind you. 

"I think you're supposed to save the kissing for after the date," Danielle said, to which Tyler just smiled, defying her and pressing one more kiss to your lips, and you could feel his hand behind your head waving them off.  

"Hey," you said, once you got out of the car, hugging Danielle, but she stopped you before you could move to say 'hello' to Jeremy, her fingers brushing your forearms as she searched your eyes in the way best friends do, and you realized you'd never checked to make sure there was no evidence you'd been crying because you'd gotten distracted by Tyler as per usual. 

"Everything okay?" She asked softly, and you could see the concern in her eyes, betting that she was thinking you and Tyler had had some kind of fight and were  in the process of making up when she'd interrupted.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," you reassured her, smiling at Tyler as he crossed around the car.  "We're fine." 

"Someone's just having a bit of separation anxiety," Tyler said, coming to stand by you and then frowning, his thumb coming out to sweep under your eye in a way that was incredibly indearing.

"Awe," Danielle said.

"I'm fine," you promised, tucking your hand into Tyler's.  "He was just really upset when we left, so that was hard."

"If he'd known we were going painting I think he'd be more stoked to stay at Grandma's," Tyler said. 

"You know, the last guy I took here was much more enthusiast," you said slyly, watching Tyler's mouth full open as he gawked.

"You did not," he laughed.

"I did," you grinned.

"C'mon, guys," Tyler said, "Let's go in so I can show her how much of a better painter I am than Trevor or whatever the fuck his name was."

"So mean," you laughed.

"You're the one taking your boyfriend to somewhere you took your ex!"

"He wasn't my ex because we were never exclusive," you said, "And yeah I'm taking my boyfriend here while our baby is being taken care of so we can actually paint."

"Our baby?" Danielle mouthed, and you smiled and shrugged, your eyes letting her know you'd talk about that later.

"I'm just waiting for him to get old enough we can finger paint together, I think I'd be better at that," Tyler said, and then took a closer look at you. "Are you gonna cry again?"

"No,' you said, and Tyler raised his eyebrows like he wasn't buying it.  "I'm just emotional today for some reason, leave me alone."

"Nah, I'm not gonna leave you alone," Tyler said gently, his lips pressing a kiss to your temple, his hand sliding to your back. "Are you like this every time you leave him with me?"

"Ummm...not really," you said, and Tyler looked taken aback"Kinda the first time I was a bit nervous but that's because I hadn't ever been away from him.

"Why not?"

"You know him."

"And your mom doesn't?" Tyler laughed.

"Yeah, but not like you do," you said because it didn't feel like you were leaving him with a babysitter anymore, where you had to explain how he might act. "You're with him every day."

"Well, I wasn't always," Tyler said.

"Yeah, but you're like....you have that connection," you said, moving your fingers together as if to illustrate.  "Like it's natural."

"Is it?" he asked, and Danielle widened her eyes and nodded even before you could.

"You're way better with him than I thought you were going to be," she said, and you added, "You're way more involved than I thought you were going to be."

"What does that even mean you guys?" Tyler sighed.

"Just that I thought you were going to be like the fun uncle," you clarified, "I wasn't expecting you to be, like, dressing him and stuff."

"Well, the kid's gotta look good," Tyler said with a laugh like it was no big deal.  But it was a big deal to you.

"Yeah, but he's so comfortable with you," you said because that special connection that they had was more than you ever thought it would be.  "And you take such good care of him."

"Yeah, I'm going for that 'Best Sperm Donor Ever Award',"  Tyler said, immediately giggling.

"You're more than that," you stressed.

"Oooh, do I get 'Best Boyfriend Ever' too?" he asked, and you turned to him grinning, your finger pinched together.

"You're like this close," you illustrated.  "We'll see how you do with the painting."

Tyler laughed, his hand coming to your low back and pulling out your chair for you, waiting until you sat down before he pressed a kiss to your cheek, whispering, "Best boyfriend ever."

And he was kind of equally adorable while you were picking out your painting design, and you were trying to decide whether you wanted to do a sunset scene or stick to a daytime beach scene when Tyler suggested that you did one of the split canvas ones together.

"You thought this was a lame date and now you want to be that couple? " you laughed.

"Yeah, I do.  It'll be cute," Tyler insisted, his lip getting pouty, "We can put it up in our dining room."

"'Our' dining room?" Danielle repeated, and Tyler's head snapped towards yours.

"You haven't told her yet?" he asked loudly and with surprise."

"No," you said, whispering loudly, "I was going to, but I just haven't yet"

'But you tell her everything" Tyler said, and you gave him a look, turning to look at Danielle.

"Tyler asked me  - us - to move in with him," you said, swallowing.  "In Dallas."

What you weren't expecting was for Danielle to respond by punching Tyler in the arm.

"Ow," he said, making a face and rubbing his arm, "What was that for?"

"Because you didn't tell me you were going to ask her," she said.

Well, I didn't know I was supposed to," he said, holding his hands up like he was innocent.

"First you don't tell me that you're in love with her even though it was obvious," she said, "And now I'm thinking it's going to take years for you to ask her to move in with you."

You turned to her with a frown on your face.  "Wait, you're not upset?"

"Why would I be upset?"

"Because I'm not going to be living here," you said, and Danielle shrugged.

"Yeah, I mean it sucks that you're leaving but I'd be more upset if I had to deal with you being upset about being away from Tyler," she said, "Or how you're not sure if he loves you or not like we did all this year."

"You did that?" Tyler asked, like he still couldn’t actually believe that you felt that way about him."

"Yes," you said, half exasperated, "and thank God you got me pregnant so I could focus the baby otherwise I would have been thinking about you 24/7."

"Well, now you and that baby get to come live with me," Tyler said, and then looked at Danielle, "And you can stop trying to beat me up."

"As long as you don't do anything stupid," she agreed, and Tyler laughed, scrunching up his nose.

"I would never," he said, and she gave him a look, "Okay, okay, I know I moved slow.  But, like, I haven't lived with a girl since my Mom, so...."

Danielle laughed, but then forced herself to straighten her face.  "Still....if you mess up, I'm coming for you."

"Oh you better," Tyler said, his head bouncing like he was counting as he spoke, "I'm gonna have to deal with you, myself, my sisters.  I'm so glad I'm trusted."

"Well, to be fair, your sisters also told me not to fuck things up with you," you grinned, and Tyler laughed.

"Seriously?"

"Mhmm," you said, "Everyone just wants us to make this thing work."

"Mmm.." Tyler acknowledged, leaning over to kiss you like he couldn't help himself. "I'm planning the next date though.  You guys need to come to Dally.  If you're doing that type of thing yet."

"What type of thing?" Danielle asked.

"The sleepover thing," Tyler said like he was trying to be innocent but failing, "Although I do have two guest rooms..."

"They've been together for longer than we have," you laughed.

"Nooooo," Tyler whispered a smile coming to his face.

"I distinctly remember you saying that you weren't dating," Jeremy said, clearly teasing.

"Technically," Tyler clarified, "But I was playing the long game.  And, like, if we weren't seeing other people, then it kinda counts."

"Isn't this like your second date?" Danielle cut in.

"Shhh..." Tyler whispered, and then laughed.  "We've done date-ish things.  We weren't seeing other people.  That definitely counts for more than two dates."

"You...weren't?" you asked him because you knew he wasn't sleeping with other people near the end of your pregnancy when you weaved in and out of feeling like you were together.

"No," he laughed, "I haven't even kissed another girl in over a year... wait, have you?  Kissed a guy, that is? Because if it's a girl, that's totally cool."

You rolled your eyes.  "The only guy I've kissed is the little man."

"That's a lie," Tyler said, and you frowned, "I can't you the other day with Gerry trying to shove his tongue down your throat."

"Okay," you laughed, "Only babies and four-legged beings."

"That's what I thought," Tyler grinned, "Although I need to keep an eye on those guys, I think they're trying to steal my girl."

You couldn't help the way that your heart swelled when he called you his girl or the smile it brought to your face.  "No, they're just part of the complete package," you said. "I love our little family."

You smiled as an older couple came in, the gentleman stopping to pull out her chair for her, getting settled in.  "Oh, do you have a little one?" the woman asked, leaning forward like he was right there.

"Yeah, he's almost 4 months," you said, "he's at Grandma's right now though."

"Oh, that's such a cute age," she said, sounding slightly disappointed she couldn't see him.

"Yeah, you want to see pictures?" Tyler asked, looking just briefly at you and you gave him your agreement, Tyler getting out of his chair to move over by her, holding his phone out, and you held back a laugh at the cute way she reached for her glasses.  "That's Bentley," he said, his finger on the screen, his eyes flicking up to yours.  "And those are his brothers, Marshall, Cash, and Gerry."

"Three dogs?" she asked, and Tyler gave an "mhmm..", continuing to flick through the photos.  "Oh my."

"First date?" The man asked, and for a moment you thought he was asking if this was your and Tyler's first date, until he continued. "Usually the first time you go out on a date without the kids and actually look forward to spending time together all you end up doing is talking about the babies."

"Oh....yeah," you said because it was kind of true.  "We did go grocery shopping without the baby once."

"Yeah, and we didn't buy anything for the baby at all," Tyler said, sarcastically, catching your eye with a smile, pushing himself up from where he was crouched, "Let me grab some tea."

"How do I make tea?" he whispered as he passed by you, and you laughed, standing up.  "I'll come out."

It was automatic to you, the process familiar as your mom was always a big fan of afternoon tea, and Tyler smiled as he grabbed mugs alongside you, looking over at the couple again, and you almost expected him to make a comment about how lame the date was once again, but he surprised you again.

"You gonna drag me along to painting classes when we're that old?" he asked and you smiled, your fingers letting the tea bag drop into the water.   

"Of course I am," you smiled, standing up on your tiptoes to kiss him.  R

"I think I gotta smuggle in something other than tea next time though," he said.

"As long as I get donut holes when we go on our next double date to Top Golf."

"How do you know  that's gonna be the date I plan?" Tyler laughed.

"Because I know you," you said.

"You don't know boyfriend me that well, this is only our second date, remember?" he teased, "I still got moves you haven't seen yet."

"Like what?" you asked, Tyler following you back to the table, warm mugs in hand.  "Skating?"

"Well, I do need to make sure I teach my girl how to skate," Tyler smirked.

"I know how to skate," you laughed, sitting back down.

"I know, but it would be so cute if I could teach you," Tyler said.

"Well, you can teach Bentley," you said, looking at Tyler's face.  "He has to at least be able to walk first, babe."

"I know," he said, sliding in next to you. "but he can still come to the family skates with us, people bring their babies all the time.  The one before the Winter Classic is gonna be awesome."

"We....get to come to that?" You asked because all you could think of was cameras and people who had been in that world for years, sacrificing to get to enjoy those big moments.  Not to mention it seemed like such a long time away, and you couldn't imagine just quite how your relationship would evolve over the next 5 months, just like you couldn't have imagined starting your family this way or falling in love with you best friend.

"Yes," Tyler answered, giving you a look like you were crazy, and then your worries kind of went out the window thinking how clearly excited he was to have someone to share these experiences with now.  "The poor kid's going to be sweating though."

"Why?"

"Because you're going to have him in way too many clothes."

"Well, I wouldn't want him to get cold."

"It's Texas," Tyler laughed.

"It's ice, ice is cold," you said, looking at Danielle and laughing, because you were loving having someone to have these disagreements with about how to take care of the baby more than you ever would have thought, listening to Jeremy and Tyler starting to talk about the logistics of having ice outside in Dallas while you started to paint, which was incredibly relaxing.

"Can you help me with this part, babe?" Tyler asked, interrupting your painting, pointing at the sunset part of his painting, which was essentially just a stripe of yellow above the harsh blue line of the water, although you could see he'd taken care to round out the circle of the sun.

"Why? You're doing great."

"Because I want it to match yours, and yours is like all blendy," Tyler said, gesturing to yours, and you laughed.  "How'd you get it to do that?"

"You have to kind of mix the colours into each other," you said, watching as Tyler looked at yours again and then dipped his paintbrush back into the paint.

"Shit," he mumbled a moment later, reaching his thumb out to try and wipe away the paint that was turning into a muddy mess, and then realizing that he swore, looking up.  "Sorry."

"It's okay," you said, more about his concern about messing up his painting rather than the swearing.  "Just let it dry."

"Let it dry?" he asked, half in alarm.  

"Yeah," you laughed under your breath.  "If you let it dry then you can paint over it and you won't be able to tell."

"Oh," Tyler said, leaning forward and blowing at the canvas as if to encourage it to dry, and you laughed even more at how cute he was being.  "Yours looks so great, babe," he said, still tending to his painting.

"Yeah?" you asked because it wasn't something that you had done in a while, although you loved the experience of painting.

"Yeah, I hope the kid gets your art skills," he said, blowing on his painting once more.  "I was going to put a poll on my Instagram to see whose people thought was the best but I'm going to lose that for sure."

"Not if you say which one's yours," you said, your lips turning up into a smile, "Your female fans will be all over that."

Danielle stifled a laugh and Tyler gave you a look, running his hand over the back of his neck. "I'm gonna be beating them off with a stick," you said, and now Tyler laughed, his foot bumping yours under the table.

"I think I've got an extra hockey stick you can use," he said. 

"When do you guys go back for the season?" Jeremy asked Tyler.

"End of August," Tyler answered, "then I have training camp a couple of weeks after."

"Are you ready to go back then?" he asked.

"Yeah, it'll be great to get back with the boys and see what we can put together this season," Tyler said, and you snorted, Tyler looking at you. "What's so funny?"

"You totally just gave him your media answer," you said, laughing because it was a thing he'd done to you before, where he'd get so caught up in his head that he'd forget who he was talking to and that he could be real, and Tyler laughed at himself.

"Yeah, I'm always happy for hockey season," he said, "But I'm really more excited to have Y/N and Bentley down there with me," he answered.

"Awe," Danielle said sweetly.

"I'm serious," Tyler said, "I've never had someone to come home to before."

"Have you even left her house?" Danielle said with a laugh.

"Well...no," Tyler said sheepishly, a smile creeping onto his face.  "But you know what I mean.  This whole thing is so crazy and I've never really had someone that I wanted to share it with like this before. Like, I know you've come to a lot of my games and stuff, but like last year when we had that little baby shower thing, I was like, I want you to always be my date. And I want Bentley to be running around in the family room with all the other kids and not care absolutely at all about the game but just be stoked to give me a hug afterward."

"Stop," you said, your hand clutched to your heart.

"Why?" Tyler asked, laughing at you.

"Because you're gonna make me cry again," you said,

"Sorry," he said, turning to press his lips to your head.  "Don't look at my painting then, it's too beautiful."

You inhaled a laugh through your nose, and Tyler scrunched his nose up as he looked at you.  "Did you just snort?"

"Shut up," you said, pushing at his shoulder and he laughed, moving with your hand so you could look at his painting.  "It looks so good," you said, taking in his rough recreation of the sample, a little shaking, but he'd put much more effort into it then you'd expected.

"I know," Tyler said proudly, "I blended it just like you said to."

"I'm gonna have to take a picture and send it to your mom," you said, "this is way better than the stuff you used to do in art class."

"And that's what's bad about dating a girl you knew in high school," Tyler said to Jeremy, "She knows all the embarrassing stuff about you."

"Well, you know all the embarrassing stuff about me," you relented.

"You don't do stuff that's that embarrassing," Tyler said, quietly, his lips turned up in a smile.

"I guess not," you laughed, just barely noticing Tyler glancing at his phone as you tried to perfect the shadow on your painting caused by the setting sun.  

"I'll be right back, okay?" he said, pushing his chair back and resting his hand on your shoulder. 

"Okay," you said easily, turning back to the other couple.  "So, what have you guys been doing lately?"

"We've been doing a lot of movie nights," Danielle said, "Jeremy just got one of those projectors for his deck and it's awesome."

"Oh, that sounds fun," you said.  "I don't think we've gotten through a movie since Tyler and I went when Bentley was still sleeping through the whole thing."

"Well, you guys should come one night," Jeremy said, "You can bring him."

"Yeah, that sounds fun," you said, "and it'd give me a reason to not be in my pajamas by 8."

"Well, you could come in your pajamas if you want," he laughed, and you listened to Danielle tell you about the movie that they'd watched last, realizing that you were falling more and more out of touch with what was current.

"Whatcha guys talking about?" Tyler asked, palming his phone and leaning down to kiss your head even though he'd only been gone for a couple of minutes.

"Just talking about we haven't watched an adult movie in forever, and that we should all have a movie night," you said, and Tyler raised his eyebrow.

"You and I have most definitely never watched an 'adult movie' together, but I'm totally down," he said, "It's kinda weird if there are other people there though."

"You know what I meant," you laughed half our of embarrassment because now it was real, looking at the smile that was spreading to Tyler's cheeks, laughing as he sat down.

"Yeah, a movie night sounds fun," he said, setting his phone down back on the table.  "Bentley's having a bottle by the way."

"My mom texted you?" you asked, already reaching for your phone, feeling surprised and then hit imm3diately hit with a wave of guilt that you hadn't heard it, even though you'd been checking it periodically and you knew, logically, that your mom could text Tyler or Danielle like she had if she really needed to get in touch with you. 

But there was no message waiting unread on your phone. 

"Yeah," Tyler answered, "She wanted to know how he likes to be held when he takes his bottle, and since I'm the one who usually gives him his bottles she asked me. So I just called her because it was easier."

And now you were beginning to think your mom might have ulterior motives.

"And....everything seemed to be going okay?" you asked, trying to make it sound like you were just casually asking, not being paranoid.

"Yeah, he took the bottle fine," Tyler said, and then narrowed his eyes a bit at you, laughing under his breath. "She sounded like she had everything under control."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure," he said, his voice light and teasing, "I could hear the kid babbling away in the background.  And I couldn’t hear the dogs at all so they're probably napping or starring your mom down trying to get an early dinner out of her.  All your babies are fine."

"You guys dropped the dogs off with Bentley?"

"Yeah, my mom really wanted them to come I too," you said.  You’d been worried about it being too much, but then Tyler had reminded you that you’d essentially demanded to have the dogs stay with you when he'd been gone, and you couldn't deny what great company they were.

"I think she likes having a full house," Danielle said.

"Don’t say that," Tyler chastised, "you're gonna make Y/N start crying again."

"I just don’t want her to feel alone when we move."

"She won't," Tyler said, his voice gentle but with an air of playfulness. "We've got a plan for that."

"Yeah, we do," you said, mirroring his scheming smile like you were hiding one of the best surprises.

And a little over an hour later, you were pulling into where you'd be picking that plan up, exchanging a quick smile with Tyler, hearing the barking of excited dogs before you'd even opened the door to get out of the car.  You laughed at the way Tyler wandered over to the chain-link fence like a little kid even before you tried to go to the front door, although you shouldn't really be judging because you were eyeing the puppies with their paws up against the fence, wishing you could go over and crouch down to bring your hand to an opening to feel a little nose.

You turned when the door opened, smiling at the woman who greeted you.

"Y/N?" she asked, and then looked over your shoulder.  "And Tyler?"

"Yes," you said, reaching out to shake your hand, laughing at the way Tyler had kind of stepped towards you and was looking between the puppies and the two of your like he couldn't decide what to do.

"You can open the gate," she said, walking towards him with her hands in his pockets, and you watched Tyler unclasp the latch, already bending down with his hands outstretched, using his foot to try and wrangle the puppies from getting out, and you could already hear his voice grow impossibly high, talking to the little creatures.

"Which one's ours?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the breeder.

"She's not ours," you reminded him, stepping inside the gated yard now with it closed securely behind you, bending down to let the puppies sniff your hand. And then you noticed the breeder's eye flicking back and forth between the two of you like she 3as trying to formulate the words to say.

"She's a gift," Tyler explained nonchalantly, crouched down on the ground and trying his hardest to pet all the puppies at the same time.

"For my mom," you clarified, knowing that the puppy wasn't something you were supposed to give as a gift, even though Tyler still thought it was the best gift ever.  "Obviously we'd take care of her, but my mom just really...needs a dog in her life."

Now the breeder seemed to relax, patting the full-grown dog at her side.  "I think she's one of the ones by you," she said, pointing at the ones by Tyler's feet.

Tyler smiled, crouching down a little more, petting and pulling one of the puppies into his body. "Oh, you're a boy," he said softly, playing with the puppies paw, and motioning for you to pick up the puppy jumping up towards her brother.  

"Hi," you said, pulling the furry little creature into your arms, scratching at her exposed belly, "you're so soft.  Are you coming home with us?"

"She's going to your mom's house," Tyler corrected, grinning with satisfaction that he'd caught you.

"Well, she can come over to our house sometimes." you said, nuzzling at the puppy, "We might need to babysit her."

"I thought you said four dogs was too many," Tyler teased, his lips turning up into a smile.  

"For us to have all the time," you clarified, turning the puppy in your arms, looking into her eyes., "Sometimes it would be okay."

"You have three dogs?" the breeder asked, which was the usual reaction.

"Well, he does," you clarified out of habit, to which Tyler gave you a look.

"You know they're your dogs too," he said, "Especially since we live together."

"Yes, we have three dogs," you said now, the breeder giving you a curious look and laughing at the two of your confusion when you were so obviously together.  "One of each colour."

"All labs?" she asked, and Tyler nodded. "They're the best aren't they?"

"They are," you agree, laughing as you got a kiss all over your face, the puppy squirming in your arms, lunging towards Tyler.

"Do you see your brother?" he asked her, and you set her down, Tyler following suit, smiling as the puppies ran towards each other, rolling over each other as they played, the older dog walking over and nudging at the puppies with her nose, Tyler immediately going over to her and bending down to rub her behind the ears.

"Is that their mom?" you asked, getting confirmation.  "Awe, are you keeping them in line, mama?"

Tyler gave you a look, one you couldn't quite figure out as the breeder offered to take the other dogs to feed so the two of you could have some time with the puppy, offering to grab you some of her food to take with you.  

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked because he was still looking at you as you sat down on the grass, spreading your legs to create space for the puppy between them, extending your arms to encourage her to prance over.  Tyler raised his eyebrows, moving to sit down next to you, leaning back on his hands.

"I just didn’t think about this making you cry."

"I'm not crying," you said, your hand reaching out to play with the puppy, who was leaving yellow hair all over your dress.

"Yet," Tyler clarified.

"Why would I cry?" you laughed, and Tyler sighed, leaning closer to you, reaching his hand out towards to curious creature, who likely already smelled other dogs all over you both.

"Because we're gonna take her away from her mom," he said, looking up at you with soft eyes.

"And you think I'm gonna be sad because that's going to make me think about how we're taking her away from her mom like we're taking me away from my mom?"

Tyler looked at you, blinking evenly.  "No, I just thought you were going to think it was sad," he said, "I didn't get that deep with it."

"Oh," you said quietly, thinking, "I mean, yeah, it's sad, but it's also happy at the same time."

"Like you moving to Dallas?" Tyler asked, someone, shifting closer to you to pet the puppy.

"Exactly like me moving to Dallas," you smiled, laughing as the puppy scampered up Tyler's legs.

"Hi, pretty girl," he said softly, rubbing her behind the ear.  "Do you want to try your collar on?  We brought one for you."

You held her as Tyler fished the collar out of his pocket, which had seemed impossibly small when you'd picked it out a few days ago, but that Tyler was able to clasp around her neck as you held her in place.  The light pink bow and collar were a little much, in your opinion, but you had to admit it looked perfect against her light-colored fur, and you couldn't think of anything better for her to wear to help your mom get the impression that she was a gift.

"It fits perfectly," you said.

"I told you," Tyler grinned, laying down on his side, the puppy running between you both playing for a moment before he pulled out his phone.  And you knew he was filming you for Instagram, his excitement over the puppy evident in your voice, but you felt you could let your guard down for a moment and just be his friend who he happened to be in love with, rather than thinking about how things might be perceived, laughing when the puppy lunged towards Tyler's phone, and he shut it off and put it on the ground, reaching for the puppy instead and rolling so she was settled on his chest.  "It looks so pretty," he said, pushing her ears back like he was playing with her hair, and barely even taking his eyes off her to ask you, "What are you looking at?", repeating your words from earlier, and you sat back.

"Just thinking about how cute you would be with a little girl," you said.

"I mean...yeah," he said, a little uptick of his lips.  "What made you think of that?"

"It looks like you're doing her hair," you said, nodding towards the way Tyler was twirling her ears, and he huffed out a laugh.   "I can just see you braiding a little girl's hair," you said, and now Tyler laughed harder.  

"I don't think I can braid, babe."

"You have sisters," you said.

"Who would never let me touch their hair," Tyler said. "Which is, like, a thing with girls."

"That is not true," you said, laughing because you loved it when he moved your hair to the side to make sure it didn't get caught when you were cuddling, and Tyler gave you a look. 

"The only time you actually let me touch it was when you guys were trying to teach me to braid at the lake house," he said, and you instantly recalled laughing till you cried with his sister because he was swearing under his breath trying to get it just right.  "And don't get me started on that French braid shit."

"At least you know what a French braid is," you smiled, Tyler's cheeks turning pink just a bit like he was embarrassed that he'd actually paid that much attention to what you talked about that long ago when you were strictly friends, without a strand of hope that you could be more one day. Or that you'd have a baby together one day.

"I mean, I guess I should have known you were into me then," Tyler said.

"Huh?" you asked, confused at how he'd somehow heard your thoughts, and now you were wondering if you'd said it out loud.

"You let me touch your hair, that's like end game," Tyler said, "It's easy enough to get a girl to let you touch her tits, you gotta work for the hair."

"Tyler!" you scolded, his giggle ringing out.

"Sorry," he said, trying to be serious, clamping his hands over the puppy's ears, nudging at her with his nose.  "You shouldn't listen to that, no, you're a classy girl."

You shook your head, laughing as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, holding the puppy's ears up like he was trying to give her some kind of weird bun, letting them flop back down.

"I think I could get Bentley rocking a little man bun pretty soon," Tyler said, "The kid came out with almost enough hair."

"Well, yeah...." you muttered, reaching over to flick one of his curls.

"You have more hair than me," Tyler said, turning his head to look at you, "and you have like a thousand hair ties at my house, so you don't have to pack any."

"Really?" you laughed.

"Mhhmm, kept finding them everywhere," he said.

"Well, sorry."

"Nah, it's fine," he said, "it's kinda cute.  Other than the fact that I was trying to convince myself that I wasn't in love with you and I kept finding your stuff all over my place like you already lived there.  So you don't need to bring any."

"No, I need to bring more because they always go missing," you said, "Someone likes to rip them out of my hair."

"That'd be Bentley," Tyler said.

"Which would be funny because he's never been to Dallas," you said, watching Tyler's smirk turn into a laugh.

"Hey, I don't care if I have to give you my whole closet," he said, "As long as you guys get to come to live with me."

"I told you so," Tyler said when you wiped a tear away that had started to roll down your cheek, your eyes on the gate now, your free hand holding the puppy who was sitting on a blanket in your lap, trying to keep her calm in this new experience that was a car ride.

"Shut up," you muttered, to which Tyler laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to your temple, reaching over to rub the puppy.  "Are you ready to go see your new home?"

"Did you see your new toy?" Tyler asked, reaching over to obnoxiously squeak the toy that was resting on your leg, that the puppy couldn't be showing less interest in at the moment. 

"I think she's tired," you said, your voice soft, trying to pet her to encourage her to put her head down on the blanket.

Tyler made a soft sound of acknowledgment, his hand moving to your headrest to back out, driving carefully like he did the first time you brought Bentley home like any sudden movement might be a disturbance. Luckily, she didn't seem bothered at all, likely tuckered out after all of the excitement.

"Do you know what dog this reminds me of bringing home?" Tyler asked softly, in contemplation.

"Gerry?" you asked, the yellow lab curled up in your lap reminiscent of the way Gerry had been, quickly passing out into a deep sleep as soon as you'd gotten him into the car.

"No," Tyler answered, his lips pressed together like he was amused that you thought he would be so simplistic.  "Marshall."

"I wasn't even with you when you got Marshall,:," you said.

"Well, no," Tyler said, a smile pulling at his lips, "But you were, like, the first person who got to meet him other than my family.  And you were the first person I told.  Even though you thought it was a bad idea."

He glanced at you as he said the last part, and you laughed.  "You were young," you said, "You'd just moved away and..."

"I could barely look after myself?" Tyler asked.

"Yeah, that," you laughed, which made Tyler laugh harder.  

"Hey, I was way better at taking care of him than myself," he pointed out.

"You were," you said, "I was totally wrong."

Tyler gloated at your admission, "Hey, I knew we could handle it," he said, "You were the one who brought a baby home before I thought I was ready."

"Okay, a dog and a baby is not the same thing," you laughed.

"Yeah, a baby is way more intense," Tyler said, a grin on his face.

"You have three dogs," you said.

"We have three dogs," he corrected,

"And a baby," you said, Tyler's giggle ringing out through the car.

"Anyways," he said, "She reminds me what you were like with Marshall because he just curled up with you and got all calm like she is."

"Yeah?" you asked.

"Hell yeah," he responded, "And not just because you're awesome, but like you care about me enough that my kids were your kids.  Like, yeah, it's awesome to have a friend who'll watch your dogs for you when you're gone.  But your friend isn't supposed to take your dog to hang out in the other room when he's freaking out because there are too many people around or send your dog a care package because he's depressed."

"Well, your friend who’s never changed a diaper in his life also isn't supposed to offer to babysit for your kid that he helped create."

"Good thing we're not friends then," he said, flashing you a grin, his hand sneaking across to grab your boob. 

"Tyler, you're driving," you laughed, pushing his hand away, trying hard to scold him.

"We're at a stoplight," he said, his hand sneaking across, "we're out without a kid, I gotta get it in while I can."

"There's a puppy," you said, your hand wrapping around his forearm.

"She's got her eyes closed," Tyler said, nodding towards the window on your side, "I thought you'd be more worried about that guy watching us."

You turned your head quickly, Tyler's laugh ringing out before you could even get your head around to realize that no one was there. 

"You are such a jerk," you said, reaching your hand out to push against his chest, which didn't really do much, hard and solid underneath your hand, yet he moved, struggling like you were hurting him, quickly reaching out to grab your wrist like he was at wrestling with you, and you expected him to use his strength to gain leverage over you so he could poke you in the side, but instead he just pulled your hand towards him, pressing his lips against your knuckles, eyebrows raised thoughtfully. You smiled, shifting closer in your seat towards him even though you couldn’t actually touch him while he was driving, yet you still wanted to be as close as possible while keeping the puppy secure in your lap.

And as much as you were enjoying having time with just Tyler for the half-hour drive, you couldn't deny that when you got close to your mom's house, your couldn't wait to see Bentley, sneaking inside the front door and creeping up the stairs, already smiling before you rounded the corner to see Bentley sitting in your mom's lap on the couch, a book open in front of them, Cash curled up beside them, and you knew there'd soon be a different colour of dog hair covering that sofa.

"Hi," you said, Bentley's jerky movements allowing him to find you. "Are you reading a book with Grandma?"

"We're trying to, but someone keeps trying to take Grandma's glasses off," she said, curving around her grandson.

"Yeah," you laughed, bending over to see him more.  "He's started trying to pull Tyler's beard."

"Where is Tyler?" your mom asked, looking up now and realizing that he wasn't behind you. 

"Oh, he just had to take a call, he'll be in a minute," you lied.

She seemed to accept your lie, asking Bentley if he wanted to go see mommy, and you couldn't stop but hold your arms out, pulling him into your body.

"I missed you," you said, placing a kiss on his cheek, feeling like he was so much bigger than when you'd left, especially after holding the puppy. "How was he?"

"He had a few moments," your mom admitted, "But we worked through them.  He was good."

"Oh good," you cooed, bouncing Bentley until you got a smile. "Do you want to show me how he watched the sprinklers?"

"Sure," she said, standing up now, and you followed her out the back, laughing when you saw Marshall and Gerry stretched out in the sun on her deck, raising their heads up and squinting as if you disturbed them.  

"Are these new?" You asked, nodding towards the planters that were in the corner of the deck, listening to her tell you about how the posts themselves weren't new but she'd switched up the flowers this year, shooting off a quick text to Tyler while keeping your mom distracted so it was the dogs who reacted to the sound of the gate opening before she did, running to circle Tyler, the puppy secure in his arms, her tail wagging furiously.  Tyler's eyes connect with yours, raising his eyebrows just slightly, a soft smile towards your mom turning into a laugh when her eyes widened, drawn to the puppy.

"What are you doing?" She asked in surprise, and Tyler just shrugged, moving across the yard, the older dogs still at his feet. 

"We just thought we'd show this girl her new home," he said simply.  

"What?' She repeated with a laugh, and yet her arms reached out towards where Tyler was extending the puppy towards her.  

"We thought you needed a roommate," you said, smiling at the way your mom nuzzled the puppy in your arms, "Someone to keep you company."

"You got me a puppy?!" She asked, Tyler laughing at her response.

"Y/N didn’t think a puppy was a good gift, but I did."

"Shut up," you laughed, which made Tyler only laugh harder.

"No, it was her idea," Tyler said, nodding towards you, bending down to per his dogs who were buying for his attention.

"Tyler found her, though," you said, "and Bentley came  to the pet store with us and picked her out some toys'

"And we've got a crate and food and everything for her too so you have everything you need," Tyler said.

"But you can think about it if you want," you said, "Tyler and I can take her if you want a few days if you want to get set up for her or--"

Your mom hugged the puppy tightly to her chest, "she's not going anywhere," she said, to which Tyler laughed loudly and you smiled, reaching out to pet the puppy.

"Dif you see the puppy, Bentley?" Your mom asked, and you turned so he could get a better look, his eyes wide and interested.

"Hey, bud, did you have fun with grandma?" Tyler said, his thumb coming out to sweep over Bentley's hand, gaining his attention, glancing towards your mom "was he okay?"

Your mom smiled at you before repeating to Tyler what she'd already told you, giving a report on how he did with his feedings And naps, during which time Bentley decides to squeal.

"Grandma  let you do what?" Tyler asked, his voice exaggerates with shock, looking down at the dogs, Marshall laid back out again now.  "What did Grandma let Gerry get away with, Marsh?"

"They were well-behaved too," she reassured him, the puppy shifting in her arms. "Will they be okay if I put her down?"

"Oh, yeah," Tyler said confidently, your mom bending down to set the puppy down gently into the grass, letting her explore a little, making her way over to Marshall herself, where he stayed still yet reached his head forward, letting her sniff him, his tail batting while her little tail was going crazy.  "Good boys," Tyler said, Gerry making his way over to her excitedly but with control. 

Seeing their reactions, you bend down, sitting down on the grass with Bentley in your lap so he could get a better look, but what you weren't expecting was having a front-row seat to Gerry mounting the much smaller yellow lab.

"Gerry, stop that!" Tyler said, his voice raised in alarm, sliding his hand between the dog just after his hips started moving, pulling the dog off.  "That's like your....aunt? Just...dodon’t do that."

You laughed, both at the situation, and the way that Tyler's cheeks were tinted pink, pulling Gerry into his lap as he sat down next to you, your mom bringing the puppy into her lap, and you took Bentley's hand, letting him pet the puppy, who seemed undeterred by the whole humping situation.

"Do you like Grandma's new puppy?" she asked him, "you'll have to come to visit her because she's gonna get so big.  And grandma will come to visit you and your puppies, okay?"

And you smiled, Tyler leaning over to kiss the tear that was running down your face. 

It was gonna be okay.  

[sondepoch]

I: Neutral Route (Y/N)

Where Futures Begin

Life used to be simple for you. Peaceful. But the Savior had other plans for you, and in moments, she ruined what you thought was your one shot at happiness. Blinded by anger, you escaped the Mint Eye, but that triggered a series of events that would bring you further into the world of brothers Saeran and Saeyoung. And further into the twisted world of your love for them.

Neutral Route: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | ✔

Saeyoung’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | ✔

Saeran’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | ✔

MASTERLIST 

Home is a funny concept.

It's one of those words with a definition that changes every time something happens in life. Sixteen years ago, you were nothing more than an innocent baby drinking milk from your mother's breast. It didn't matter that she and your father wound up being abusive fucks, that they screwed your life over and permanently scarred both your mind and body.

That tiny apartment was home sweet home.

Six years later, way afterwards when your parents had died and left you alone in the world, you found yourself calling your orphanage home, even if you never made any friends. Because at that time, what else did you have?

A few years ago, the orphanage kicked you out. They said that since you were sixteen, they no longer had any legal obligation to feed and shelter you. You spent a week hungry on the streets before you learned to steal and fight. Over time, you had found a new home among the homeless peoples of downtown Seoul.

You thought that would be your final home. That you would either die of pneumonia on the streets or that someone would stab you in your sleep under the open night sky, and that you'd live a short life. But when he waltzed into your life, he brought you to what he said would be your true final home.

He changed everything.

"Saeran," You whispered out softly, saying the name of the man who had the spotlight on the stage your thoughts.

As if he had been waiting for that precise moment, you heard him knock at your door. It was more of a courtesy than an actual request for entry; at the Mint Eye, he was still ranked above you, but the boy always treated you with respect, as he had even when he first discovered you on the streets.

"You can come in, Saeran," You called out, and he poked his head through the doorway.

"How did you know it was me?"

"Only you knock, silly," You responded with a smile, patting the empty space next to you on your bed, "Come sit down. I was just thinking about you, actually."

Saeran closed the door behind him and sat down on your bed, his expression blank, "Thinking about me?"

You nodded your head. "Yeah, about the day we met."

For the first time today, you see his face break out in a soft smile as he recalls the memory with you.

You weren't used to the cold.

Miserable as your life was in the orphanage, they had provided blankets for everyone, and the heating was broken in certain rooms, but it was mostly functional. In mid-February on an open street, though...

You burrowed your arms further in your pockets and curled up into a ball with your back pressed against a wall, desperately trying to retain some of your natural body heat.

"Hey."

You didn't glance up. Being homeless was more uneventful than you had initially thought, and even though it had only been a week, you'd long lost interest in what you thought were the conversations of other people.

"Hey, I'm talking to you. (H/ c) hair, yeah, you."

You shot a wary glance up at the figure that was now standing directly in front of you. It was a man with white hair, staring down at you with an unreadable expression. He looked about your age.

"Y-yes? How can I help you?" You cringed internally at your stutter. Whatever this guy wanted, it couldn't be good, right? Should you run away? Should you scream for help? But who would help a hobo? Maybe it was best if-

"You've been through a lot of pain in your life, haven't you?"

That question broke you from your thoughts. For once, you had no idea what to say.

The answer was yes, it was so obviously yes. You had been beaten and cursed at and hurt, deep scars left on you that would never fully fade away. Pain was no stranger to you. Hell, you knew pain better than you knew yourself.

But you didn't want to admit that to a stranger.

"You don't have to say anything. I can see it in your eyes."

Instinctively, you pulled your gaze away from the man's calculating eyes, too proud to let him see further into your soul. He chuckled in response and bent down to your level, where you tried to break the laws of physics and further wrap your jacket around yourself.

"How about this," He said after thinking for a moment, "I'll give you my jacket if you talk to me, just for a little bit."

The offer was too tempting to resist. Within minutes, you were wrapped in his fur coat and had told him your life story, about your abusive parents, their deaths, the orphanage, you had even told him about your wistful dream for a normal life.

"(Y/N), was it? I can't help you become normal...because you're not. You're special, like me. You're...chosen." You glanced up at the man, whose name you had learned to be 'Ray.'

Ray looked at your confused gaze and continued, "You've been chosen for paradise, (Y/N). If you come with me...I can bring you to Mint Eye. To our Magenta...where everyone is happy."

"Joining the Mint Eye was the best decision I've ever made," you cooed, shifting your position so that you were lying down on the bed on Saeran's lap. The position was familiar for the two of you, and probably the most comfortable.

"It still took a lot of convincing to get you to join," Saeran pouted, running a hand through your hair, "I had to go back twice to get you to come here."

You rolled your eyes, another soft giggle escaping your lips, "Oh shush. You were difficult to deal with, too, back then. Remember? You told me your name was Ray."

"My name is Ray," Saeran said with a stubborn pout, giving your cheek a flick.

"Yeah, yeah, everyone at the Mint Eye calls you Ray, but you're really Saeran, aren't you?" You pulled yourself into an upright position and kissed Saeran on the cheek, "You're my Saeran."

The white-haired male didn't respond, a pink blush painting his features as soon as your lips contacted his skin. "Where are you going?" He whined as you began to get out of bed. "Come on, princess, don't go~" He murmured, using your hesitation at his favorite nickname to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I have to, Saeran. The Savior asked that I meet with her. I need to be ready for when she calls me down." You opened your drawer and rummaged through it for a clean disciples' robe, "You should get ready too. There's a Recruitment Ceremony tonight. Now turn around."

Saeran turned around with a pout, facing the wall as you continued to talk about the ceremony today, and how Savior had promised a surprise for you. A couple times, the boy tried to turn around and peek at your changing form, but you always flicked his head back in the other direction before he could see anything.

You laughed to yourself as he was forced to face the wall once more, complaining about how you were taking too long to change.

Honestly, your relationship with Saeran was one that no one in the Mint Eye really understood. You loved him, you knew that the day he brought you to the Mint Eye, when he stayed with you and held your hand as you took the Elixir of Salvation for the first time after your recruitment ceremony.

And if asked, he wouldn't waste a beat in saying that he loved you back. Every day, he'd cuddle with you and spin you around and hug you and shower you with kisses, but it had never gone further than that. A kiss on the cheek, a kiss on the forehead, but you two had never once kissed each other on the lips.

Sometimes you wished he would, just to prove that your relationship was anything more than platonic, but you kept yourself in check. He was your world, and the affection he already showered you with was more than enough to keep you happy.

That was the purpose of the Mint Eye, right? To share magenta and spread happiness?

"Alright, I'm done. You can turn around now." You smoothed out your robe, making sure it wasn't bunching up anywhere as Saeran picked up a comb and began working with your mess of a hair. Well, you called it a mess. He called it art.

"Saeran, did you just smell my hair?"

"..."

You rolled your eyes and turned to face yourself in the mirror as he brushed through the knots and began a fancy half-up-half-down braid in your hair. You watched his deft fingers, mesmerized. Hair was something he had always refused to teach you because he insisted that he would always be there for you to do it himself, so you tried to learn by watching him - but you could never fully replicate anything Saeran did.

"Hey, princess," Saeran smirked, using his favorite petname for you once more, "When do you think you'll let me dye your hair?"

"Saeran, for the last time, I highly doubt that the Savior would approve of me walking into a Recruitment Ceremony with rainbow highlights."

"No, not that," Saeran laughed lightly, a lovely sound that made your heart beat faster, "Just the bottom. Neutral tones only. I think you'd look nice with an ombre."

You hesitated, not sure whether to accept or deny his request.

"Just think about it, okay?"

Saeran secured your hair with a bobby pin and took a step back, admiring his work. "Almost done, princess. Wait here," he said with childlike excitement, darting out of the room before you could process his words.

You didn't mind, though, because it wasn't long before Saeran had returned with an armful of tiny flowers. You gasped in delight at the sight of them, each one tiny yet vibrantly rich, all a dark purple that paired beautifully with the violet disciples' robe you were wearing.

"Hold still, princess," Saeran murmured as he secured a tiny flower at each crossing of your braided hair, dotting your hair violet, like paint to a canvas.

"And now, I'm finished." Saeran smiled as he admired his work, and you did a little twirl for him, smiling bashfully when you noticed your reflection in the mirror. With the violet robe you had adorned and the purple flowers that surrounded your head like a crown, you looked like a perfect personification of magenta.

"Why so fancy today?" You inquired.

Saeran only gave you a sly smirk. "You'll find out. The Savior did call you down, didn't she? She'll tell you then."

"Hey! No fair! You can't keep secrets from me!" You pouted and crossed your arms, but Saeran only shrugged his shoulders, refusing to give you a straight answer. Figuring this conversation would lead nowhere, you were quick to move on, "What are they called? These flowers?" You asked innocently, twirling a particularly long strand of hair between your fingers.

"Aubrieta deltoidea. Flowers from a lilac bush. They're small, but they grow in large quantities, so instead of putting one big flower at the back or side of your head, I was able to put nearly a dozen small ones. You look quite b-beautiful, actually..." Saeran's voice trailed off at the end, a familiar pink creeping onto his cheeks as he glanced away from your figure.

"The Savior will love it." You said with a smile, taking a step toward Saeran and embracing him.

He was quick to hug you back, running a hand through the bottom half of your hair where he had let your soft locks hang loose. As you two pulled apart, you made eye contact, and for a brief moment, you were acutely aware of how his arms were gripping your waist and how close his lips were.

The moment was perfect.

You were dressed in a form-fitting robe that clung to your body like a dress, your hair done up in a way that made you look like a true princess; Saeran, in turn, was dressed in his suit, his hair still sticking up in certain parts from when you had messed with it earlier, but only contributing to his ruggedly handsome looks.

Your eyes dropped from his hair to his eyes to his lips, his perfect lips, and they were getting closer and closer until...

"Disciple (L/N), please report to the Savior's quarters. This is the first notice for Disciple (L/N). Please report to the Savior's quarters."

The monotonous voice broke you and Saeran from your trance, and you both stepped backwards, the moment ruined before any contact could be made.

"I-I have to...uh..." You stammered out, your mind still fried from the electricity in the air not five seconds ago.

"Y-yeah, of course, m-me too," Saeran responded, his face completely red as he practically sprinted out of the room, leaving you to answer the Savior's summon for your presence.

When your door had slammed shut, you took a final glance at yourself in the mirror. Your cheeks were still a little rosy, but it was nothing that wouldn't die down by the time you made your way up to the third floor of the Mint Eye.

You were ready to see the Savior.

***

"Tea?" You stared at the Savior with a puzzled expression.

You were nothing more than a disciple. Higher ranked than a mere believer, yes, but not ranked high enough to be worthy of a personal audience with the Savior, much less tea made by her own hand.

"A-ah, your offer is too kind, my Savior. I have done nothing to deserve such a blessing."

"Perhaps you would like another taste of the Elixir, then?" The sharpness in the Savior's voice made you flinch. "Tea, or the Elixir of Salvation, my dear disciple (Y/N)?

That was no question at all - the Elixir of Salvation was accompanied by excruciating pain, a blessing from the Savior but far less preferable than tea. "Between the two, I should prefer the tea, my Savior."

The Savior gave you a sweet smile that melted away your fear at being summoned. It was such an amiable grin, it was the smile of someone who contributed to the spread of happiness in the world. Your happiness, specifically.

"Thank you," You said, bowing your head as the Savior placed a cup of tea in front of you. She then sat across from you on a matching leather sofa.

For the longest time, she only sat there, her teacup resting on the table as she studied you. Her gaze was penetrating, you felt utterly naked beneath her green irises as if they were stripping each layer of your soul away to observe the trembling core that held you together.

"Disciple (Y/N), do you like dresses?"

The question caught you off guard.

You were expecting her to ask about your past, about your family, about your reasons for joining the Mint Eye. But this?

"I haven't worn a dress in a very long time, my Savior. From what I recall, though, I do think I liked them on the occasions where I was permitted to wear one."

The Savior didn't waste a moment in responding. "Brilliant. You will no longer need to wear those Disciples' robes. Your wardrobe is to be replaced with dresses...I expect you to be wearing one at today's Recruitment Ceremony."

You felt your eyebrows furrow in confusion. You were no longer to wear Disciples' robes? Were you being demoted to a believer rank? But believers had their own uniform...

"(Y/N), look at me," The Savior commanded, her voice holding authority despite it being gentle, "I'm inducting you into my Council. You're to report to me directly, now, so we'll be meeting at this same time every day for half an hour unless otherwise specified. If you have any questions, I trust you will ask Ray. He's to supervise your work...Is this truly news to you? Were you not already aware of this decision?"

You stared at your cup of tea, your reflection shaky as you settled the cup down on the coffee table, "No, my Savior. This is the first I'm hearing of this information."

The Savior smiled and laughed to herself, "I'm impressed. I had instructed Ray not to tell you, but I wasn't sure he'd be able to keep a secret for so long. Regardless," she pushed a brown package toward you, and you were able to see a bright violet cloth peek out from inside, "Change into this for the ceremony. You will be at my right side the entire time."

You nodded your head, taking the package into your hands while the Savior continued, "Work will begin in one month for you. By that point, your wardrobe will be exchanged to suit your higher rank, and you'll have a room in the renovated quarters. Ray has asked for his room to be across from yours, do you second that request?"

You nodded your head, smiling lightly at how thoughtful Saeran managed to be without even trying.

"Well, if you both think that your relationship will last after this..." The Savior murmured, more to herself rather than you, but the words piqued your interest.

"Is there anything that should ruin our relationship, my Savior?" You asked, the bold words coming across as ruder than they had sounded in your head.

If she noticed, the Savior didn't acknowledge the impudent tone in your words, twirling a blond curl as she took her time to respond. "Perhaps. We shall see. Report for secondary commitment tomorrow, and..."

You pulled your gaze up from the package to the Savior's own eyes as she smiled. She placed a delicate hand on top of yours, "Welcome, (Y/N). I look forward to walking this new future with you in our paradise. Where everyone is happy."

You smiled, not wasting a moment to complete the phrase, "In the magenta of dreams and hope.

MASTERLIST

Neutral Route: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | ✔

Saeyoung’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | ✔

Saeran’s Route: 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | ✔

Word count: 3.1k

Notes: And that's the first chapter of my new series! I have a good amount of chapters prewritten so I promise that chapters will be updated regularly ;) My hard goal is to have 1 chapter out every Monday, but I'm going to push myself to try to update on Thursdays too so that you guys don't have to wait as long! :)

Comment & Like

Next Update: 1/02/20

I do not own the rights to Mystic Messenger or any of the characters within it.|

[psycho-slytherin]

Strangers ch. 37

You finally bite back– and walk in on Yoongi.

Pairing: Yoongi x (female) Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Genre: fluff, angst

|mlist|

<–– Prev   Next ––>

You shrug on your coat, beyond relieved to be able to wear your layers again. Commercial filming is done for the day– you only have to show up tomorrow morning and hopefully be done in a few hours. God, you were cold, so cold, and tense. Your phobia has been messing with your head and keeping you on edge, and you’re so fucking angry that you’ve let yourself become weak. You’re a liar; you’ve always managed to bullshit your way around weaknesses. Letting a fear so illogical disrupt your life? You hate it. It’s pathetic.

Your phone buzzes as you wait inside the studio for Lisa to pick you up, and you check it– it might be Yoongi, and you could use a mood booster.

@captainkookie21: lol @yourname is such a royal bitch, amirite??

Ah, yes. Of course. Of course, why would it be Yoongi, when you’ve got such merciless hatred to keep you constant company? Why would it ever be Yoongi? You’re just friends, it’s not like he cares– why should he care? You’re typing before you realize it; you’re sick of taking all this shit.

@yourname: @captainkookie21 royal is right sweetie I’m such a queen <3 glad u at least know my name tho since I sure don’t know yours ;)

You send the tweet and shove your phone in your purse. The anger inside you has been temporarily assuaged, but you can still feel it bubbling beneath your skin. You’re pathetic, you’re weak, you’re a liar, and everyone hates you. You’ve spent so long in despair– god, when will you ever just get a break? Why can’t something just go right?

Your phone rings, and the caller ID tells you it’s your best friend.

“Lisa? Are you outside?”

“Hey girl! Sorry, I’m calling to tell you I can’t make it– an assignment I forgot about came up in class and I gotta pull an all-nighter to get it finished. I’m really sorry! Call a car back to yours, okay? Love you, mwah!”

You grit your teeth and sigh. You need to go home and watch YouTube until your eyes bleed. Usually when you needed cheering up you’d watch BTS crack videos or Run episodes, but even that seems wrong now that you know them for real.

Whatever. You take an Uber home and fall onto your bed. Maybe you’ll actually fall asleep early for once once.

~~~

@kceleb-updates: NEW! #MoonOverTheSea’s @yourname was criticized for replying to a Netizen anti’s tweet! Y/n’s had lots of controversy since becoming @BTS_twt’s #SUGA’s girlfriend. Stay tuned!

Hoseok sits back with a sigh. “She really can’t go a day without sparking some argument or another.”

“It’s not her fault,” Yoongi growls, scribbling rapidly in a beat-up notebook.

“She could’ve left well enough alone. After dealing with those haters for so long, I thought she knew that by now.”

“It’s only gotten worse since they made us pretend to date. I still don’t know why Manager-nim thought it would be a good idea.”

“Hyung, if you didn’t have the dating excuse to be together, they would’ve slut-shamed her or called her a social climber for being out with you at night anyways. The photo, remember?” Hoseok shrugs, sprawled on the bed of their Japanese hotel room. “Face it– there’s no winning when she’s associated with us; they’re always going to compare her to you.”

“Ugh! I should’ve– done something, I should’ve said something! Hobi, she was put in danger because of me!” Yoongi still doesn’t look up, only gripping his pen tighter. “She keeps saying she’s fine but she’s not, and I know she’s strong– stronger than I was, than I could ever be– but she was hurt, nearly killed, and she’s fucking traumatized because of it. Because of me.”

“Quit beating yourself up, Yoongi hyung. Y/n is a grown woman and she’s making her own choices. She’s trying to protect you– haven’t you noticed? Jeez, she probably knew this was how you’d react– no wonder she kept it a secret.”

“I don’t need protecting anymore.”

“Neither does she.”

“But the haters–”

“So do something about them then. Y/n already has,” Hobi nods at his phone. “What are you going to do?”

Yoongi stares at his notebook. “What I do best.”

~~~

“Y/n, please, darling, don’t make me beg! C’mon, eyes closed, you don’t even have to kiss his cheek, just get closer to him.”

You swallow nervously and nod, before taking a breath and leaning forward, your lips barely brushing Wonho’s smooth skin.

“Perfect… trail your hand down his neck, that’s it… Wonho, give me a lip bite, look right into the camera– yes, exactly! We’ll have the music swell, and add the voiceover right here. And… cut! I think that’s our take!” The staff applauds as the director calls out the end of the commercial shoot. You grin inwardly– if you hurry, you can make it to the boys’ apartment for dinner.

Wonho extends a hand as you leave the set. “It was nice working with you, y/n. I hope to see you around sometime.”

You smile and shake his hand. Wonho had really been the best part of this freezing, somewhat demeaning endeavor. “Same, it was a good experience. I’m sure we’ll run into each other again.”

Lisa hasn’t texted since yesterday, so you figure she’s still working on the assignment. So much for no more rideshare apps, you think dryly as you’re dropped off a few blocks from the boys’ place. You can’t wait to surprise them, and it’ll be a good chance to ask Jimin for another video for Lisa.

You pull your hood up to cover your hair– bundled in all your layers, and with the sunset’s last breath settling over the city, the crowd of ARMYs clustered around the building ignore you easily. You slip into the side door using the spare key Yoongi lent you when you stayed with them and tiptoe up the stairs.

Holding back a giggle, you knock on the door to the apartment, and… nothing. No one answers. You knock harder– still nothing. Maybe they’re watching a movie? Or was their flight delayed? Yoongi said everyone would be back by Saturday evening and they have a private jet anyways, so they should be home.

You try the door and find it unlocked. Huh. It’s not trespassing if you’re their friend, right?

Tentatively you enter the house. “Guys…?” It feels eerily empty– maybe their flight was delayed. No, wait! You hear a voice, and music coming from down the hall. Are they recording? You’ve never been into any of their studios, but you’ve seen enough pictures online to know all about them.

Maybe you should leave. You’re about to turn around when you hear a muffled, yet familiar voice.

“So when there’s someone new… no, that’s not it.”

Well, at least you know your Yoongi is home. You quietly pad closer to the famed Genius Studio– You’re just curious, like any fan would be. You’re about to knock on the door when you hear something that stops you cold.

“Ugh– y/n!”

You practically jump out of your skin. Wait, what? Does he know I’m here? How? Your every drop of blood turns to ice and you back away from the door in case it swings open. Instead, Yoongi only continues; perhaps he’s talking to himself?

“Okay, okay. Trying again. This is take, uh… sixteen? Seventeen? Aish, who cares. C’mon, Agust, gotta get it right.” Yoongi’s muffled voice shifts in tone as a beat starts, and you can see Agust D in your mind’s eye when he begins to rap:

“Here’s someone new, a challenger to drown and rue, but think about it, mull it over, she’ll talk until you’re drop-dead sober, dock some points, you’re so below her, do your best to fucking loathe her, love her, think yourself so much above her–”

You feel half-hypnotized. Her? Who’s her? Maybe you should knock, it almost feels too personal, too intimate to overhear but you can’t interrupt, not now–

“She’s stronger than I’ll ever be, so if you’re gonna hate, hate me.”

If Yoongi keeps executing these perfect rhythmic shifts and internal rhymes you might be in serious danger of falling in love with him for real.

“Calling people snakes on a verbal kill spree only exacerbates the pain, trapping us in our brains, until there’s one way out, goddamn.”

“Beautiful,” you whisper, barely noticing that you’ve spoken aloud. Yoongi’s words, his raps, his poetry… it’s beautiful. You’re entranced to the point that you don’t notice the beat has stopped.

“Did you say something, Jimin-ssi?” Yoongi calls from inside his studio.

Oh shi-

The door swings open before you can react and Yoongi steps out. His expression is relaxed, unguarded... until he catches sight of you.

“Y-Y/n?”

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, lovelies! Hope you enjoyed <3 As always, thanks for reading, and please don’t forget to like, comment, and reblog!

[bumblesimagines]

Helpful

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

Miguel turned, looking at him.

"This is Valeria. Val, meet daddy's friend, Toby." He hated admiting it but his heart fluttered at the word 'friend'. Valeria waved at him, smiling. One of her front teeth was missing. She looked adorable though.

"Go pack your stuff, princess." Miguel put her down, watching her run off. A tired looking young woman approached them.

"Who's this? Your new boyfriend? Miguel, I swear to fuck if-"

"He's a friend." Miguel cut her off. She sighed, nodding.

"You're taking Val? She has school and the teacher wants to talk to you." She said, crossing her arms. Toby glanced at Miguel who nodded. He seemed around twenty and Valeria seemed to be five or six. He must've had her in high school.

"I'm finished!" Valeria said, smiling brightly. She brushed some of her wild brown curls away from her face. Toby smiled, taking her to the car.

"How old are you?" Toby asked.

"Five! I turn six in two months." She informed. Valeria definitely had a slight lisp considering how she pronounced her f's and other words. Miguel finally walked over after a few minutes.

"You excited about the storm, princess?" Miguel asked. Toby glanced at him as he entered the car.

"Yeah!" Valeria cheered.

"She loves storms." Miguel quietly informed him.

"What'd you do at school?" He asked. Valeria's eyes lit up and she started to ramble. Miguel actually listened to her. Toby found it nice. Some students had parents who never listened or brushed them off.

"Ooh, daddy, can you make me sweet potato, please?" Valeria asked. Miguel glanced at Toby and nodded.

"Sure, princess." He smiled.

Toby and Valeria peeked into the kitchen. It smelled heavenly but Miguel kicked both of them out.

"I can feel you staring. Stay out of the kitchen." He huffed. Valeria and Toby giggled, going back to the livingroom.

"Auntie Cat says that daddy gets it from grandma." Valeria said, drawing on a paper.

"Do you think daddy will let me meet grandma?" Toby asked. Valeria shrugged.

"Grandma's with her mommy and daddy up in heaven." Valeria replied. Toby frowned.

"Oh..." He glanced towards the kitchen. He stood up.

"I'm gonna go see if daddy's done yet." Toby said and headed into the kitchen, closing the door.

"I said to wait." Miguel glanced at him. Toby smiled, leaning against the counter.

"Valeria said her grandma isn't with us anymore. I'm sorry about that." Toby said. Miguel paused.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked. Miguel licked his lips.

"Later. When Val's in bed." He replied quietly. Toby nodded.

"Go tell Val that I'm done." Miguel said, getting plates. Rice and sweet potatoes with bacon. Toby poked his head out.

"He's done!" Valeria rushed into the kitchen. She sat down, smiling as the plate was placed down in front of her. The food smelled amazing. Toby never had sweet potatoes so he wondered how it would taste. Miguel watched him intently while Valeria ate her food happily. Toby ate a piece of the sweet potato. His brows raised.

"Woah." He mumbled, eating more. Miguel relaxed and started to eat. The bacon and sweet potatoes mixed perfectly and the rice was delicious.

"I have some bread that has chocolate in it. You can have some after you're done." Toby told Valeria. She sipped her juice and nodded. Once they were done, Toby gave her some bread and showed her where the bathroom was. Toby sat down at the table, glancing at his water.

"Daddy.. Tell me a story." Valeria said, rubbing her eyes. She wore bear pjs. Miguel nodded, taking her to the room she was staying in and reading her a quick story. He returned and sat across from Toby.

"When did you have Val?" Toby asked.

"I was sixteen. Her mom refused to take care of her so I tried to balance school and a baby. It didn't work out so I dropped out. Gwen gave me a job and it lasted for a while but their café wasn't getting many customers so I left. They needed the money. My sister took Val but she already had a toddler so I stayed on the streets. Sometimes a friend took me in." Miguel told him. Toby listened to him.

"Our mom passed when I was in middle school so Catalina had to work three jobs during her sophomore and junior year." Miguel sipped some water, finally looking at him. Toby hesitantly reached over and touched his hand. He offered a smile.

"You and Val can stay here for as long as you want. I don't mind the company. I'm always open if you want to rant or just chill." Toby said softly. Miguel nodded, glancing at his hand.

"Alright. Sappy moment over. I'm gonna go take a shower." Miguel stood as Toby snorted and rolled his eyes. He watched Miguel leave with a soft smile. He totally had a small crush.

"Remind me why you tagged along?" Miguel asked.

"Moral support." Toby replied as Valeria led them to her class. They entered.

"Colorful." Miguel mumbled, earning a nudge from Toby. The teacher smiled at them.

"You two must be Valeria's dads!" Neither bothered correcting him.

"I'm Mr. Evandelista but please my students call me Mr. E." The man said. He motioned for them to sit as Valeria looked through her desk.

"Valeria is a smart and amazing girl but she's really quiet. She doesn't socialize." Toby glanced at Miguel.

"She gets that from you." He mumbled. Miguel rolled his eyes. The teacher chuckled at their interaction.

"Valeria is a great student. She has some things to show you." Valeria walked over, showing him her drawings and projects. They were as good as drawings by a five year old could get. Miguel cooed and looked over them as Toby watched with a soft smile. He realized why people thought they were together.

"Come on, Toby has to get to work soon." Miguel said, taking some papers from the teacher. Toby picked up Valeria and left the classroom with him.

"You're not bothered when people say or ask if we're together?" He asked as Valeria dozed off. Miguel shrugged.

"It's whatever." He replied, glancing up as it started to rain. Toby fished out his phone as they quickly got to the car.

"Cancelled school. There might be a bad storm." He said.

"We'll stop by the supermarket real quick." Toby said, driving away from the school. He stopped by the market and Miguel watched him go.

"Daddy..?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Toby my dad too?"

[lovestruck-au]

Happy Valentine’s Day!

What happened next under the cut.

The Bet

Suspicious Ross

Words: 2458

Rating: T

Proofreaded by my dear @sztefa001

Ross sat down on the bed he was temporarily owning, tears streaming down his right cheek. He furiously wiped them off from his chin, where they were falling from under the mask. He couldn't understand why was he crying, because he never cries, never. Especially not because of some stupid kiss and how it stung his heart. How was it different from any other time he saw Love kissing someone else anyway? Or worse than catching Love coming back home after a long night? It wasn't in any way different or worse, but still hurt so much more. Hurted to the point it made Ross cry.

Maybe it’s because it was between Love and him?

Suddenly someone opened the door. He didn't have to look up at person who entered - without knocking, like he owned the world - to know who it was.

“Oh don't give me this shit. That's why villains don't fall in love. It's not a damn teenage movie, it's a real world!” Flug closed the door and put arms over his chest. He didn't flinch when Ross slowly stood up and straightened, glaring daggers at him. White-haired human was higher than him by the head at least.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” said Ross with shaky voice, obviously disturbed by crying. “I shouldn't give you shit? Oh please! I lived with L for too long to not notice what's going on.”

“What do you-”

“You think you’ll make puppy eyes toward your boss every time he's around and no one will notice? That you'll vanish for two hours, come back on stiff legs and I won't know what's going on? Even an idiot like me can notice your silly romance, damn teenage movie!”

“Listen-”

“No, you listen! How would you feel when it was me who kissed Black Hat?”

“Ah please, what even is a kiss?!” Flug gesticulate harshly, losing his cool.

“Shut! The fuck! Up finally!” yelled Ross, stepping in Flug's personal space. “I'm done with you and your… bossing around! I took all those implications that I'm stupid, uneducated, savage, whore, idiot and I didn't care that much, but you won't get to lay your pretty, soft hands on my boss, understand?!” Ross stabbed Flug's chest with a finger. The doctor looked at the touched place with disgust in his goggles.

“Don't do that” he said with warning tone.

“Or what?” Ross pushed his shoulders, making him hit the door. “You'll sass me to death? Kiss me? What will you do?” He did it again.

A long groan left Flug when he swung his hands, trying to push Ross back. But the higher one was faster. In one, swift move he grabbed Flug's wrists, pushed him to the side and knocked him down with his leg. It was fast move, obviously learned some time ago and used frequently. Ross didn't even break a sweat.

“I could snap your neck like a twig. With no effort” huffed Ross and went back to the bed, sitting on it, glaring at the doctor.

“Are you threatening me now?” Flug sat down on the floor, brushing his face under the bag. He looked at Ross warily.

“Maybe” the taller human said and looked at the floor. Flug only shook his head, standing up. He sat on the chair, crossing arms on his chest. “Why are you even here?” continued Ross.

“Black Hat told me to follow you. He probably wanted to get rid of me and keep you away while having a word with your boss.” Flug smirked under the bag. He knew Black Hat doesn't treat people who put hands on his doctor very nicely.

“If they were fighting the whole mansion would be shaking till now” noticed Ross blankly, still looking at the floor. “And L isn't stupid. If he courted you, knowing you're with Black Hat, there had to be a purpose.”

“Okay, stop implicating that there's something between me and Black Hat but business relationships.”

Ross looked at Flug skeptically. “L is almost literally a cupid, he knows when someone is in love.”

“Yet he doesn't know you are?” Flug snarled, getting a little annoyed.

Ross made a pause, then snorted and laughed for a moment. “Me? In love? With who? And anyway I'm not able to fall in love, I don't feel it.”

Flug blinked few times. “And it's you who live with Love Hat? You just cried over him kissing me. For me it looks like you're way more into him than you think. Well, logically speaking, if my research about you was all true, I can't blame you. He took you from the street and gave you place to live so-” Flug noticed look in Ross' goggles and went silent. Maybe he said too much.

“How much do you know about me?”

“Only few things about white haired maniac running around Prague…” He lied, obviously. He knew almost everything after Ross’ sixteen birthday, but the rest was mystery for him.

“Is it why you call me a whore? Do you think it was nice to have to get money that way?”

Oh. Oops. “No, it's-”

“But of course, what could you know, whole life in fancy villain school, under the eye of greatest villain in the world” grumbled Ross, looking away.

Flug froze for a moment, not looking at Ross. He didn’t know how to answer so decided to keep quiet. But that awkward silence was becoming too much for him. He chuckled, tugging at his collar. “Is it hot in here?” he joked then, seeing how annoyed Ross was looking, sighed and cleared his throat. “Okay, maybe I shouldn’t say that. After all, you are-” Flug groaned, gritted his teeth and quickly continued through them. “You are a scientist who have some knowledge, afterall.”

Ross blinked at him. “That’s the worst apology I ever heard.”

“That wasn’t- ah, nevermind.”

Silence came back. Apparently two scientists really weren’t the best talking buddies.

Flug looked around the room. There were few boxes under one of the walls, still unpacked even though they were in the mansion since almost two months already. Two were opened, clothes escaping one of them and the other filled with books. Oh, so little flower knew how to read after all.

Flug smiled under his nose, his eyes sliding around the room. He grimaced at the pile of clothes, probably dirty, few blueprints laying by that pile, books scattered around the nightstand and bed where Ross was actually sitting, looking like it wasn’t made for days at least. Flug moved, putting his elbow on the desk, thinking how this room was getting disturbingly similar to Demencia’s. And then he felt some cold fluid, soaking his lab coat.

The doctor yelped, jumping out of his sit and looking around the desk - dishes collected there for days probably, with leftovers on them and something spilled in the center.

“What is that?!” yelped Flug.

“Oh yeah, I spilled soda there.”

Flug shivered and without a word went to the bathroom. Every guest room had its own bathroom, which he couldn’t say about their private quarters. He came back with toilet paper and started wiping the desk off without a word. Ross observed him with bored expression.

“Why are you still here, anyway?” he spoke. “We talked for some time, I guess our bosses already stopped discussing whatever they were discussing.”

Flug put the overused paper on the pile of trash sticking out of the trash bin, took off his lab coat, hang it on the chair and went back to the bathroom, wanting to clean his hands.

“I don’t know, I may be just, you know, hiding?” he said from the other room.

“From your boss?”

“Y-yeah.” Flug came back and sat down back on the chair, wary to not touch anything again. “Well, we’re villains, loyalty isn’t exactly our thing but that’s… that’s Black Hat we’re talking about. He can be… possessive. May get a little… annoyed by what I did.”

“Wait, are you scared of him?”

“No, of course not! I’m just aware of the fact that he probably won’t be happy if... when he finds out I actually enjoyed that little kiss, which he probably did already, but won’t come here and won’t do anything about it since you’re here and he thinks you don’t know about us.”

“That’s messed up” commented Ross, but it came out a little dry. Flug didn’t seem to notice.

“Don’t get me wrong! He usually yells a few threats, which I take too seriously, then we fight and then everything is okay again. Just normal couple thing.” Flug shrugged. “I kinda wanna avoid that, especially with you all here.”

“Riiiight. Normal couple thing, of course.” Ross grimaced and then squinted at Flug. “Did you just say you enjoyed that kiss?”

“Y-yeah? Maybe? A little?” Flug avoided looking at the other scientist. Kissing someone was one thing, but actually enjoying it like he did was something different.

“Why?”

The ask surprised Flug to the point he froze and after a moment looked at Ross as if he didn’t understand. “Why?”

“Yeah, you have to have a reason you liked it. Why?” Ross was sincerely curious now. He saw how Flug swoon over Black Hat, even if the doctor thought he’s sneaky enough. So what made him kiss someone else and enjoy it?

“I… I don't know why.” Flug looked down, frowning. “It's just… Black Hat isn't very… um…”

“Affectionate?”

“Y-yeah”

“Well that seems obvious.”

“Right but I just… sometimes it's nice to be touched or praised and your boss, he's very different than mine. He's tender. Caring. He's really sweet. I just… kinda fell for his charm, I guess.”

“Is he really?”

“Yeah” sighed Flug. “But it's not like I feel anything towards him, as I said it was just a kiss. Black Hat is the one I-” Flug stopped and looked to the side awkwardly. Ross chuckled.

“I thought real villains don't feel.”

“Well, it's not about feeling, not everyone is a sociopath, but showing affection” explained Flug and then, immediately, his face went blank. “Oh.”

Ross blinked at him and then, with big snort, started laughing. He bended in half, grabbing his belly.

“You just- looked so dumb!” he managed to say between giggles and gasps for the air.

“Ah shut up.” Flug blushed, a little, embarrassed of his own, sudden realization. And then few thoughts followed it as he stood up collecting his lab coat. Ross stopped laughing and looked up at him. “That was fun.” said Flug on his way out “Never thought I would spend Valentine’s Day with you, especially on talking about feelings. I guess Love’s appearance gets into me.” Flug shrugged and moved toward the door.

“Wait, it’s valentine's already?”

“Yeah, why?” Flug looked back at Ross and noticed he stood up. “I guess searching for new house isn’t going well…” he said without enthusiasm, trying to remind the other how much time they spend in the mansion.

“Yeah, it’s not that easy-”

“I don’t care. You’re still a nuisance I have to share my lab with. Quicker you’ll be gone, quicker I’ll have my peace back.” With that Flug left.

Only after a moment Ross sat down again. He didn’t care about Flug’s words, he knew the doctor was a douchebag. What he cared about was…

It was Valentine’s Day. It was actually noon and first time he saw Love Hat this day was only half hour ago, kissing Flug. No card, no flowers, any of that cheesy, annoying things Love always did on valentine’s. He didn’t even came in the morning to say hi, like he did every other day. It… it stung. In the weird way Ross didn’t feel before, even after seeing him kiss Flug.

After a moment Ross sighed and took off his mask. He wanted to get angry, disappointed or even upset, but just couldn’t. Dropping the mask on the floor he just digged under the cover, deciding that may be a good place for the rest of this day.

.

Flug left after that flower boy but Black Hat didn’t spoke. He just squinted at smiling, looking proud of himself Love Hat.

First to break the silence was Love. “I won.”

“I could see you won!” snarled Black Hat, making one step toward his brother. Love put arms over his chest, feathers of his new coat making him look even buffier.

“Will you attack me now?”

Black Hat huffed, snarled again and finally straightened, brushing his coat. “I would be stupid if I attacked you today” he growled. “And I respect your… victory, I’m not a child to get angry about losing.”

“But?” Love smiled again.

“You didn’t have to kiss Flug.”

Love Hat hummed and smiled wider. “I had to. And well, it wasn’t me who started the kiss. Otherwise you wouldn’t believe Flug got interested in me.”

“He would never-!” yelled Black Hat but stopped himself, made a pause and cleared his throat. “He knows who is his one and only.”

“Oh he for sure does!” Love Hat chuckled, waving with his hand. “After all it took me more than a month to make him do anything. I didn’t want to take him away from you, I just wanted to show you something.”

Black Hat scowled. Of course. There had to be something. “What.”

Love Hat immediately got serious, his smile vanishing again. “If you don’t do anything, he’ll get tired of you.”

Black Hat took a moment to silently glare at his brother. Then he folded his hands behind him, scowling. “I didn’t ask you for your amazing advices” he said with sarcasm obvious in his voice. “You won. I lost. I owe you. End of the topic. I hope now you will actually search for new place and leave my mansion.”

“Oh yes, of course. We already overstayed our welcome.”

“Good” nodded Black Hat and left the laboratory.

Love Hat sighed. He knew he should talk to Ross, he seemed very… upset by seeing the demon and Flug kissing. But he decided it’s better to leave his brother’s mansion first, after all everyone would use change of the environment.

.

Flug knocked on the door to his boss’ office, hoping he’s already there. Harsh “enter” ensured him he was in there. The doctor sighed and entered, closing door behind him. He didn’t dare to look at Black Hat.

“S-sir… Black Hat” he spoke, not waiting for permission. “I-I think we should talk.”

Black Hat stare his doctor down with a grimace. He was angry at Flug, for letting Love get to him like that and win that stupid bet. But his brother may have had a point.

Finally, the demon sighed. “Yes. Yes we need to talk.”

[dilfhakyeon-moved]

Uhhhhhhh ralbert 38 please boo

hello yes it took ten years and a half but in my defense,, i hadn’t expected i’d get requests for that prompt post ahfjkdshf

it’s just big fluffy tbh there’s no angst at all they’re just good boys. yeet

“Isn’t this amazing ?”

For as long as he could remember, he’d been working for the same people… forever. Maybe at first it wasn’t really working, because he was too young and all, but he’d always been there. No memory of his family, just that everlasting smell of hay, horses, and freedom. This really felt like freedom, didn’t it ? It was all he wanted. All he needed, maybe. The freedom he could try to pursue away from this place could never match with this. Surrounded with his favourite animals, working with them ( it didn’t really feel like working, to be fair ) and taking care of them, even sleeping with them sometimes, wasn’t it great ? He couldn’t ask for anything more. And that was his mindset, for it had been his mindset forever.

But… how old was he, now ? Sixteen ? It’d been a long time. Had he not grown up ? Had he forgotten to age ? His body hadn’t, for sure.

He couldn’t afford to keep thinking this way. Yes, this could be a life - but he’d changed so much since his youngest childhood. He’d managed to get good things, actually, for a homeless orphan child - the man he worked for paid for his education like he paid for his own sons’, wasn’t that neat ? One of them was his age, too. And they all had funky hair, funky red hair. Race only really got to play with the youngest’s hair, though. The one his age. And not when he was awake, at least only recently.

But they’d always known each other, hadn’t they ? The blond was safe in saying they were friends. Yes, they were ! They went to school together and had always shared the same classes, and maybe, just maybe, they’d gotten really close. Inseparable. Best friends. Told each other secrets - although Race didn’t keep quiet about many.

He did, for some. A few. He had to main the mystery of that one horse kid working for your father all your life, but you don’t know all the basic things about him ! Because he liked being interesting, in the eyes of that kid. Albert.

In a way, maybe his mindset had changed indeed. Life wasn’t all about his freedom - a large part of it was about that kid. They were always together, how could it not ? Always talking, playing and messing with the other, probably the best addition to his life the taller kid could’ve asked for. In a way, wasn’t he so lucky to have found someone he could stick with ? For a child initially most likely meant to either die a baby or survive and have to deal with homelessness and lack of education for a long, long time - if not forever -, he was truly lucky to have housing, free food, school… although he’d rather skip on that one. All that just for him to “work” with horses. And the bonus was an amazing friendship he found himself cherishing way more than he’d ever thought he would, but here they were.

Race had managed to trust that other boy so easily, but when living together, it probably wasn’t that hard. Albert’s father never considered or treated him like a son, though. He was still that poor kid for whom he’d felt just enough pity, and now there they were. Impossible to develop a brotherly bond with his son ? Great, they’d just be best friends, that was fine too.

Best friends were better than brothers, Race often thought. From what he could observe. Albert and his brothers used to be close, but as the others aged, more conflict settled in.

There had been conflict, that sure. He couldn’t enjoy thinking about it.

Either way, what they had was so much better, wasn’t it ? Genuine trust. Teasing and messing with each other, but no actual… tough fights, mean fights, ill-meant fights. There was nothing vicious between them. Although they weren’t always too honest with their feelings, they knew each other enough to keep that trust - and this, it was so much better than brotherhood and breaking your family bond eventually. He wondered what Albert thought of it, but why would he ask him ?

… And he’d been lying in the hay for hours, thinking about this instead of falling asleep. Ah, right. He couldn’t sleep in his bed, and that was how he’d ended up there, like… most nights. Sleep wasn’t the easiest, for some reason. Life there wasn’t a lot, but school could be… exhausting, right ? Not the best people. Not… the best environment, and-

“You should put a shirt on, ‘case dad comes by.”

Oh, the shock of hearing a voice. What, was it so bad he wasn’t wearing a shirt when he was simply having some lonesome time with his tall friends ? God.

He sat back up, his eyes quickly meeting the other kid’s, although his hair was being really messy for once - and he really wanted to stare at it. And mess with it. Maybe brush it. Oh, whatever.

“I’m flat, ’s fine. Ain’t like he’s gonna notice anythin’.”

“Maybe flat, but probably not flat enough.” Albert spoke into a yawn, stepping closer to sit in front of his friend. “I don’t think he’d wanna see you shirtless either way. Always asks us to put our shirts back on even when it’s awful hot weather, and we’re surely as flat as it gets.”

“Yeah, 'know that. I just don’t like clothes.”

He puffed his cheeks for a second, staring at one of the horses who were watching them. But this time, his mind couldn’t rightfully on said horse, and he quickly dismissed it to turn around and look at Albert.

“What’s you doin’ here anyways ? It’s late, usually y’ always sleep at that time.”

“I was bored,” the other retorted with some sort of… bore, in his voice.

“Huh. Bored.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t really text you. It’s not the right time period.”

“Ah, fuck. Progress.”

They both sighed. Fuck you, twentieth century. You sucked ass.

“But like, d’ you even plan on doin’ stuff or are we just sittin’ here waitin’ for one of us to fall asleep ?”

Albert raised an eyebrow. Fuck if he knew, it wasn’t like he was great at planning things. Maybe they should be going outside, at least in Race’s opinion - it’d be more fun. Even if he’d have to put his shirt back on, maybe.

“Well, maybe we could go… in the field. It’s nice out, the sky’s clear an’ all…”

That was his only idea, and it just so happened Race absolutely loved it. How surprising ! Race loved hanging out in the field, which coincidentally consisted of his entire life since he was a child ! How unexpected. No, really, the biggest grin formed on his face and he immediately pulled himself up, his long legs allowing him to stand taller than Albert even when the other was standing. Which is why he was referred to as 'taller’ early on.

“Yea, right ! Let’s go now ! Do I gotta put my shirt back on ?”

Albert glared for a second. The blond thought the answer would be 'no’, but quickly, the other’s features softened, even adding on a soft smile. “Nah, it’ll just be us anyway. Not like anyone comes in the field at night 'cept for us.”

Success. No one could truly force him to wear a shirt, tiddies or not ! Well, he’d rather do without, but top surgery isn’t a safe procedure yet, is it ? Oh, and probably expensive if it does exist. What year is it exactly ? 1910 ? Whatever it is, he has to wait.

Race pulled the other up with little to no effort, and in a few, quiet but sort of clumsy seconds, they were sneaking out of the stables, running off to the field and laughing quite loudly for a night situation. Did they care ? Would it wake anybody ? No, to both. They were free to do what they wanted - that same freedom Race had held onto for quite a long time. He loved sharing it with someone else. Made his heart flutter, and oh god, was that part of his mindset change ? He didn’t mind it so much as it was unexpected. Was he meant to feel so great with his only friend ? Probably, that was how friends were. Probably.

Once in the field, the two boys looked around them. It was quiet. Some wild animals jumping here and there - rabbits, mice, lizards and whatnot. Maybe snakes too, for all they cared. That wasn’t scary to them anymore, at that point in time.

It was all quiet. Quiet felt nice. And it was nice, up until grass was thrown at the blond, and a loud noise of protest left him.

“Hey, what !”

Soon enough he was running after Albert, who despite being a good runner, didn’t manage to match with Race’s speed. And a few seconds later, he was being tackled to the ground, them rolling in the grass for a few metres before they just laid there, panting a little and resting against each other, breathy giggles leaving them as they caught their breaths, Race’s bare chest pressed against Albert’s arm, who didn’t seem to pay any mind to it. Race felt comfortable. Race felt accepted, just like his friend had always made him feel, and no one was here to judge either of them.

That was freedom, wasn’t it ?

As they slowly calmed down, they both laid down on their back, their eyes staying closed for a little while until they both made the decision to look up at the sky.

The stars were beautiful. They had the privilege to witness a moon not covered by clouds ; they could totally see in the dark. With such a bright light, no one could… trip on their foot, or a tree’s roots, or anything that could possibly be an obstacle on the ground. Either way, Race’s eyes were lost in these stars, a hint of a smile back on his lips as he did so. And Albert had decided to watch him instead, to watch how his eyes reflected that sight he admired.

“Hey…” Albert spoke softly after a while.”

“Hm ?”

“Isn’t this amazing ?”

“Like… the sky ? Yea.” Race sounded sort of absent-minded, but if there had to be an emotion, it’d be… joy.

“No, I mean… like, us. Our… friendship.”

“Ah.”

The blond paused. He blinked, then closed his eyes again. “Yea. I think it’s probably on my top three favourite things ‘bout livin’ here an’ workin’ for ya old man.”

This earned a chuckle from the other, who shook his head. “Better be, punk.”

“Hey, oh.”

They both laughed. Then, more silence. Fortunately, awkward silences between them had stopped after the age of six ; all silence was just silent understanding. Silent conversations where all they had to say was ‘hey, I really trust you and what’s happening is really comfortable ; I feel safe and happy’. A nice conversation.

Then Race felt Albert’s hand on his own. A reflex: holding it. So he did. And no one said a word.

Could he have held anyone else’s hand ? That kid who couldn’t let anyone approach him without being aggressive or offensive to keep people away from me, the one who always got in trouble for nonsense on purpose, that kid whose trust was only given to Albert. Probably not. He’d maybe made a few friends, but no one came close.

And while silence reigned, someone had to break it off. This time, it was Race.

“Can we… cuddle ?”

“Sure.”

Albert sounded sleepy. Race found it quite adorable, but he held back from commenting and brought himself closer to his friend again, resting his head on his chest and his arm wrapping around him. Albert responded by wrapping his own arm around the blond’s waist, and pulling him just a little closer.

Sleep became so tempting.

Maybe Race fell asleep there, thinking about that evening that had passed by so quickly when he’d thought he wouldn’t be able to sleep well and nothing could help that. Maybe Albert took this opportunity to press a light kiss to Race’s head, humming quietly and looking up at the sky one last time.

“You’re killin’ me, Racey…”

He kept his voice quiet so it wouldn’t wake his friend. But they were both smiling, and maybe a field wasn’t the best location to sleep in, the happiness on their face was worth every uncomfortable spot in the grass.

Tag list:

@well-the-kids-do-too@racetrackcook@i-got-personality@imjusttheoutgoingsidekick@thatfancyclam@we-dont-sell-papes@ben-cook-can-cook@not-your-cigar@nverkept@jackhasdreams@racescoronas@suddenly-im-respecsable@purplelittlepup@hopeful-broadwaybaby@broadwayandbookblog@crazymecjc@maiawakening@awwwwwwdang@albertdasillva@daveys-pet-snake@be-more-chill-evan-hansen

[dimancheetoile]

your crooked smile and counterfeit soul

Read it on AO3

somebody help me, I’ve got a new OTP. I need help. Also this whole thing comes from a gif and you’ll probably figure out which one by the end (cookies to you if you don’t because you must be one hell of a ninja to sneak past that monument of modern culture)

There is something to be said about coming back from the dead. Not that he actually died, but his heart did stop for about a minute before Sakura managed to bring him back, which does count for something. So let's say that there is something to be said about coming back from a one minute-long death. He can't seem to see the world the way he used to. For a Hyūga, it does make for a strange epiphany.

Neji would have never pegged himself to be the type to linger on rooftops at six in the morning, quietly enjoying a sunrise, or stopping at a dango stand to enjoy a sweet after each training session. And yet here he is, walking the streets of Konoha at night just to enjoy the festive atmosphere, the paper lanterns and the stars. He doesn't remember when he last looked at the stars other than to find the north.

The rebuilding is going along fine, better than he would have expected at first, given how many people they lost. But strangely, it brought a closeness to those left and made them work together in ways a lot more efficient than they would have been before the war. Neji hates to see it that way, but the war did bring some good things after all. When he sees the lingering looks on his friends' faces as they look at each others, relationships forming and parting with a lack of care typical from people who just realized how short life is.

He has seen some strange things since everything ended. People he never thought would get along ending in bed together, friendships forged in blood and grime turning into happy marriages— Shino and Tenten, who would have thought? And yet Neji had found himself nodding when Tenten asked him to be her bridesmaid, giggling along with her as he did her hair. He doesn't remember the last time he laughed either.

The war did change everything.

And so there he is, wandering around in the alleys where bars are open and shining warm lights into the dust of the streets. He's quietly enjoying the feeling of people moving, laughing, breathing, of the blood pumping through his veins and reminding him that he's alive.

Neji doesn't expect to hear a somewhat familiar voice coming from a nearby bar, and curiosity draws him to enter. He's never been there before, his team being used to another bar closer to the center. That one is of the traditional kind, where the only people you find are old shinobi missing limbs and ANBU coming back from months-long missions with a slaughterhouse in their hollow eyes. There is a counter in the center and about thirty small booths made to house two or three people at the time, not a single more. All of them have a view of the door and the back entrance, with a quick access to either in case of emergency. The lair of paranoia in its purest form.

And there she is, ordering another bottle of sake if the empty one she's bringing back is anything to go by. He hasn't seen her since the war, since she plunged her hands into his chest to heal his wounds from the inside, sealing the blood vessels as quickly as she could and leaving him gaping open but alive to go back to the fighting. She's very different now.

Her hair is as short as Kiba's, brushing her temples where it falls in small strands. Her red outfit is gone, replaced by a standard blue jonin uniform, the green jacket forgotten in favour of a white medical coat. There is a second seal on her forehead, and he can't resist. Neji activates the Byakugan and can't control a wince when the full force of the supernova hits him. It's bright like two suns and exhilarating, shortening his breath without his consent. He's quick to close his eyes and revert back to a normal vision.

She's going back to her booth, the bottle in a steady hand, but she slumps on the seat without a care in the world. He takes a step in her direction and she immediately raises her head, her posture straightening without missing a beat. Neji doesn't falter and keeps going, sitting next to her a second later. Sakura doesn't look at him and pours herself a cup of sake, offering him the bottle as she downs it with the other hand.

"Sup, Hyūga?"

Neji snorts. "Exactly how drunk are you?"

Sakura squints at her empty cup, a frown on her tired features, before looking back at him.

"I don't remember."

Then she bursts out laughing, like she just said the funniest thing in the world. The other patrons carefully don't pay attention to her, which tells two things to Neji. First, she's as terrifying as ever, and second, it's not the first time she drowns herself in sake in this bar.

"You should go home, Haruno."

"Nah, I'm good. Whatcha doin here?"

"I heard you, so I came inside."

She shakes her head. "I meant outside. At night. You know, walking alone in the dark."

"You make it sound creepier than it is."

Sakura snorts in laughter, the sound quickly turning into another fit of giggles, and this time she drinks directly from the bottle. She puts it down a little too strongly and wipes her mouth with her hand.

"What is going on with you, Haruno?"

She's smiling like a loon, eyes crinkling and cheeks pink with amusement, the picture of happiness and mirth. She's relaxed and confident, her green eyes sparkling in the orange light of the bar, and she looks like a queen-

"I'm dying."

She looks like a queen as she keeps on smiling, and repeats.

"I'm dying."

Then she takes a mouthful of sake, keeps it in her mouth for a second and swallows it.

Neji is trying to remember how to breath.

"It's actually pretty funny, when you think about it," she says with a tilt of the head, like she's actually considering the subject. "Naruto has a giant fox sealed in his stomach, Sasuke has murder eyes that should make him blind, and yet here I am."

She smiles again, her shoulders hunched and leaning towards him like she's about to tell a joke.

"I'm going to die at nineteen and those bastards will keep on flipping the bird to the shinigami until they're a century old and counting."

Sakura pours herself another glass and gives him the bottle.

"What a funny world we live in."

Neji lifts the bottle to his lips and empties it in one go.

He's never been in this position before. Granted, he didn't have many opportunities to be, but every time one of his teammates asked to cover for them, Neji had always carefully stayed clear of it. Now, he's carrying a secret so heavy he feels like it's choking him, and he didn't even think about it at the time. Though, to be fair, he might have drank two or sixteen cups of sake too many when he had agreed to keep her secret.

He doesn't see her much more than he did before, and yet he feels like she's everywhere. Every time he turns, she's breathing behind his shoulders and it's like they're drawn to each other by the sheer magnitude of what's happening.

Neji sees her going to train with the Uchiha, laughing at something he said and bumping her shoulder with his. He sees her bringing grocery bags to Naruto's apartment when he's busy at the Hokage Tower, helping the Rokudaime. He sees her posing for Sai whenever she's not working at the hospital, gifting him with a blinding smile and a kiss on the cheek. He sees her keep on living as whatever's killing her eats slowly at her insides.

Neji regrets not asking what she's suffering from. He's a bit afraid, too, because whatever is capable of taking down the best medic of all times is one fucking scary thing. He wonders how no one noticed the weight she's lost and the bluish tint her skin has taken where her complexion is too pale now to hide her veins. Then he sees Shikamaru hiding a sob at a party after hugging her and he understands. It's not about noticing her illness. It's about the warmth back in Sasuke's smile and the relaxed line of Naruto's shoulders and the sincere happiness on Sai's face, all of it because Team 7 is back together.

So Neji slips next to Shikamaru on the couch where he's pretending (and doing a good job at it) to be okay. He carefully presses his arm against the Nara's and admires the inner workings of the disaster squad that Team 7 is. He hears Shikamaru holding his breath and feels his eyes burn a hole in his cheek. So Neji gently pushes him with his shoulder and Shikamaru exhales, his head falling back on the couch.

"You know?"

"She told me, about a month ago," Neji whispers.

"I don't get it. Why is she doing this?"

Neji shrugs, staring at this incredible woman who had their lives into her hands and saved them all without a care for her own safety.

"And those morons, how come they don't see it? I can feel her ribs when I hug her!"

Neji briefly puts his hand on Shikamaru's knee. "I know, but we can't exactly force her to tell the truth."

Something dark unravel in the Nara's eyes and Neji holds his breath.

"But we don't have to force, do we?"

"What are you thinking?"

Shikamaru doesn't answer and gets up, sneaking past their friends scattered in small groups all around the house. He goes straight to Sakura and grabs her by the arm, nodding at Ino who looks at them with an amused smile. He then proceeds to drag the pink-haired woman straight to their couch and sits her next to Neji, before sitting as well on her other side.

"That was surprisingly energetic of you, Shikamaru. What is it?" she says, a smirk on her face.

"Don't bullshit me, woman. I know, and I know that Neji knows. So tell me, what's your reasoning? How did you come to the conclusion that shutting up was the best idea?"

Her face darkens suddenly and she clenches her jaw. Her eyes screen the room and then she's up, taking both of them by the hand and leading them to a bedroom. She doesn't slow when their friends start whistling and catcalling them and closes the door behind them. Sakura gestures to the bed and the two men sit down, looking at her with a frown. She crosses her arms and sighs, beginning to pace in front of the bed.

"You seriously need to keep quiet. I can't have the story running around, are we clear?"

Shikamaru snorts. "Please tell me you don't expect anyone else to not notice. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?"

"Thanks," she grumbles. "I'm keeping this up for as long as I can, and you better back me up on this.

Neji scowls. "Only if you explain."

Sakura sighs again and slumps against the wall, sliding down until she's sitting with her knees against her chest, facing them.

"I have degenerative pathway disorder." At their puzzled face, she explains. "Apparently, it's particular to the Uzumaki genome, and I have enough blood relation to them to get it. You know how big their chakra reserves are? Well, they have to adapt their pathway to accommodate it, right?"

Neji nods. "I've seen it on Naruto, it's frightening when he's calling the Kyūbi on top of it."

"Yeah, well this means the pathways enlarge when you pull a stunt like, I don't know, unlocking the fucking Yin Seal in the middle of battle while summoning a small thousand of slugs. The disorder makes it so that they never revert back to their original size."

Neji can't help himself. He activates the Byakugan and ignores the supernova on her forehead, concentrating on her pathways. He's never done that before, always drawn to the burning pyre of chakra, and what he sees is horrifying.

"You're-"

"Yeah. My pathways are almost as large as my thumb, which means they're sucking up all my chakra faster than I can replenish it. I'm basically bleeding myself dry."

Shikamaru recoils like he's been hit. "That's how you managed to get a second seal in barely half a year."

She shrugs. "I have to do something with the excess chakra, you know? Otherwise I would have to go blow shit up in the training ground every day."

"I'm guessing there's nothing you can do."

"Nope," she says with an exaggerated pop. "I tried surgery on a pathway in my feet and I basically killed one of my toe. I can't feel it, I can't move it, it's all but gone. I'm not chancing it on my hands or heart."

"What does Tsunade-sama think about that?"

Sakura grimaces. "She's pissed. She's been trying to find a solution for the past year, but nothing yet. It's hurting her more than I expected.

"Of course it's hurting her," Neji says through gritted teeth. "She's your mentor. What do you think we feel?"

She levels him with a cold glare. "Well, I don't know about Shikamaru, but I don't expect anything from you. You've always made clear how stupid you thought I was to hang onto Sasuke as a kid, and me saving your life didn't even get a thank you out of your arrogant Hyūga ass."

"I-"

"She's kinda right, man," Shikamaru shrugs.

Neji looks down. "I'm sorry. Thank you, Sakura. None of us would be here without you."

"I wasn't fishing for compliments," she grumbles.

"You should, though," Shikamaru says. "We owe you a lot. And I'm not sure you realize how devastated your team will be. Gods, Ino, I don't want to think about Ino. She's never gonna forgive you."

Sakura snorts. "I trust you to handle the pig, lazyass."

They fall silent, quietly getting lost in their thoughts. Neji has a hard time wrapping his head around what he just learned. No one would know about the disorder, with the Uzumaki gone for more than two decades. They're going in blind, with apparently only Tsunade and Sakura working on the matter. There must be something they can do, she can't just... die.

"How about using the chakra in your seals to replenish your reserves?" he offers.

She shakes her head. "We've thought about it. I tried, and forty minutes later all of it was back in my forehead and I had a gigantic headache."

Shikamaru frowns, looking at Sakura before staring at Neji and going back and forth. The other two let him, knowing his formidable brain is on the matter now and might just come up with something.

"Sakura... how much do you rely on medical techniques when you fight?"

She thinks about it for a moment, muttering things under her breath. "I'd say about sixty percents of my fighting style is based on medic-related jutsus."

"So you could theoretically fight without it, right?"

"Yeah, I mean I would be a bit handicapped, but I could. I'd mainly use my dōton and strength."

Shikamaru nods, his hands locking in a familiar position that means he's deep in thoughts. Neji looks at Sakura and sees the careful hope settling over her sunken features, the paleness of her cheeks matching the while wall behind her. A few minutes pass as they stay quiet, letting the Nara think. Then Shikamaru sucks on a deep breath and looks at her with wide eyes.

"I can save you. Sakura, we can save you!"

She's shaking. "Tell me!"

"It's not a perfect solution, you'll be severely disabled for a few months, if not a year, and you'll have to adapt your entire fighting style and frankly, probably all of your life choices and career plans at the same time but-"

"Nara Shikamaru, you will tell me right now!"

A blinding grin slowly spreads on his face and a surprised laugh escapes his throat.

"The solution is standing right next to me."

"Neji?"

"What is the sixty-four palms all about? Come on, indulge me."

"Stopping the chakra flow by blocking-"

Shikamaru giggles. "By blocking the pathways!"

"You're kidding me."

Sakura stares at him with watery eyes, her breath quick and pained.

"You're kidding me. Shikamaru, you beautiful genius!"

She starts laughing, tears streaming down her face, and Shikamaru joins her. Neji looks at them, not even realizing his own tears until Sakura grabs his hands and puts them on her heart.

"You can save me," she whispers and he nods slowly, his mouth slightly gaping.

Like Shikamaru said, it does involve a lot of planning. The sixty-four palms isn't meant to stick, only to disable an opponent. Now, Neji needs to do it hard enough to permanently shrink down her pathways, with the risk of blocking them forever. It also means Sakura will be unable to move on her own for a least a week, until her system adapts and the chakra starts flowing back into her muscles.

His uncle is surprisingly open to discuss the jutsu with Tsunade, coming up with ways to do it in the safest way possible. It the end, they agree to perform it three times, instead of making it stronger. Hinata will start, then Neji, and Hiashi will deliver the final blow. Shikaku offers the Nara forest to do it, because it's going to be loud and flashy and Sakura is most likely going to scream. She's still hellbent on not telling anyone, which means she doesn't want her friends to hear her.

The day of the procedure, Neji can't stomach any food and he sees the same anxiety on his cousin's face. They could permanently disable Sakura, condemn her to a bed for the rest of her life if they don't do it right. No matter how confident Hiashi and Tsunade are, it's still one of their comrades, one of the Konoha 11 who helped end the war.

In the end, it goes better than expected. Oh, she screams, she screams so loud her voice breaks and she's left shaking on the ground, blood spilling from the corners of her mouth. They carry her inside the Nara Compound where a gathering of nurses is already waiting to put Sakura to bed. But instead of the expected week, Sakura takes three days to recover. She's walking to the bathroom by herself on the morning of the fourth day.

Tsunade warned her, though. Medical ninjutsu is over for her. She'll never have the chakra control to back it up now so she can forget about her hopes of research and surgery, her dream of overseeing the hospital. Her chakra reserves are through the roof, so large she can barely stick a leaf to her hand for the next eight months after the procedure. When she finally gets it under control, almost a year has passed.

Sakura never told anyone else about what happened. Kakashi covered for her and assigned her a long-term mission to study the Nara medical techniques (which is a load of bullshit because she already did that the first year after Tsunade accepted to teach her). It does mean no one asks question about her lack of field trips and suspiciously long stays in the Nara Compound.

She's still not cleared for leaving the village, her fighting style having shifted in a way she never had to adapt to before. She's a powerhouse, a tank of fists and mud barrelling through the training grounds with the force of a earthquake. She's absolutely useless in a real fight as it is, because her strength is so big she's likely kill her teammates as well as their enemies. Until she gets it under control, she trains every day and tries not to break the doorknobs every time she enters a place. It's a work in progress.

The secrecy does mean she spends a lot more time with Shikamaru and Neji than her actual teammates. Naruto, Sasuke and Sai are absolutely terrifying and completely useless for missions because they have the stealth of an elephant in a china shop paired with a complete inability to fight long range. Finding them missions is a nightmare and Kakashi is suffering.

It all comes to an end after a risky sparring session where Neji almost lost an arm to Sakura's sudden loss of control. Shikamaru is trying his best not to laugh, resting against a tree at the edge of the training ground. Then Sakura playfully pushes Neji when he tries to sneak up on her and she accidentally sends him straight through a nearby treetrunk. Shikamaru loses it completely and falls down laughing, small tears rolling down his reddening cheeks.

"Oh gods, Neji, I'm sorry!"

Sakura is running after the trail of shattered trees and Shikamaru is rolling on the floor, howling with laughter. She comes back with a battered Neji grumbling about unfair strength and backstabbing Nara boys. They sit down next to Shikamaru and wait for him to recover, finally joining their circle under the tree's shadow. Sakura is looking at them with a lazy smile, the relaxed line of her shoulders telling about the trust and happiness she's filled with at the moment.

Slowly, she extends her hands and patiently waits when they exchange an unsure look before each taking one in theirs.

"If it's not too much to ask-" she begins with a soothing voice, but Neji interrupts her by blurting out;

"Anything. Really."

And Shikamaru is laughing again as Neji blushes sharingan red and Sakura hides her mirth in the Hyūga's shoulder, her hands still in theirs.

"As I was saying, if it's not too much to ask, I'd love to fuck you."

Shikamaru immediately stops laughing, choking on his breath and becoming as red as Neji.

"Hum, who-"

"Which one-"

Sakura smiles playfully and tugs on their hands.

"Both. Both is good."

[choco-ramyun]

Our Inner Apocalypse - Chap. 1

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader (BTS)

Genre: Angst/(soon also) Smut

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: Apocalypse!AU and all it includes, Gang!AU and all it includes, Violence.

You roamed the wasteland, accompanied by your trusty backpack in which you carried all the items you needed. Your knife, ammunition, a flask of water, a flask of tequila you grabbed on the road, and of course, a spare gun. In the world in which you lived these items were required.

·Flashback ·

News Moderator:"The last remaining president has fallen, and with that the last chance for a civilized world.  The First Lady will hold a speech now."

The TV flashed and now you could see the wife of the deceased president. The political situation across the whole world crumbled in so short time, and this president was the last one across the whole world that you could actually call a politician. This world was broken, dictators and dumbasses ruling the world, this world was shattering into thousands of pieces, ripping the simple people like you with it.

First Lady:"Dear citizens, now that my beloved husband has passed away, I must proclaim a new era, the era of chaos and destruction, the world as we know it will start crumbling, it already started. Mothers, children, I'm so sorry, but you must hide and stay safe somehow, I wish I knew how to help you all, but for the first time in a while, I can't help you all. Dear citizens, please stay safe, this was the last transmission from me as First La-"

The screen rapidly broke off as the last thing which could be heard was a bomb explosion.

·Back to the present ·

That's when it all started, you were barely sixteen as it happened. The world seemingly lost it's mind. An atomic bomb blew up the white house, and basically all Washington, signs of the atomic bomb spreading across the whole land, leaving marks of wasteland and devastation across the whole land. Civilization as it was known didn't exist any more. If you got sick, you couldn't go to the doctor, you could only hope to find some medication somewhere or simply hope for a swift and painless death. There were no stores or anything, if you needed something, you had to scavenge for supplies, for food, for ammunition. In a world like this there were simply no rules, you could do whatever you wanted to, you could kill whoever you wanted to. If you weren't tough, couldn't kill, couldn't defend yourself you wouldn't make it out here. No one could be truly trusted, and you learned it the hard way.

·Flashback ·

"It's okay, just come with us, you'll be safe with us..." The man gripped your wrist tightly, keeping you from running away. "B-but my mother is still in there! MOM! MOM, COME HERE! MOM, DON'T LEAVE ME!" Tears streamed down your cheeks while the man from your neighborhood dragged you away from your crumbling house. You were surrounded by screams, fire, explosions, crying women and children. "It's too late darling, she's dead." Of course you wouldn’t accept that. "NO....no.....this all can't be happening..." You collapsed onto the floor, holding your head with your hands. You roughly brushed your hands through your hair while the tears kept streaming down your face. "Quit it! This ain't the time for mental breakdowns for fuck’s sake!" He aggressively grabbed your wrists again and pulled you onto your feet. "Leave me alone, bastard!"

You ripped your wrists away from the man, and just stood there looking at him. He looked back at you, before stretching out his hand, gathering strength, and slapping you right across the face. His hand left a burning, red mark across your face. Your tears streamed right down the mark he left, soothing it a little bit, but still being painful. You lost all will to fight or protest and went with the man. He brought you to a house full of men around his age. You stayed there for the first month of the apocalypse. These men gained your trust, they taught you how to use a gun, how to make fires, how to defend yourself, how to fight, how to scavenge for food, basically everything you required in a world like this. They became something similar to a family, now that you lost your actual family. They let you go on scavenges with them, they gave you a fair share of the loot, they taught you how to kill. One day during the night, you heard muffled screams from downstairs, the room in which the men were staying most of the time. You grabbed your gun and got up from the mattress on which you slept. It was a simple mattress that was placed on the cold hard floor. You loaded your gun and started walking towards the door. You headed for the stairs which led downstairs.

"Please....why are you do-" A loud gunshot fired, and you heard one of the familiar voices laugh maniacally. You sneaked a peek at the room, only to discover one of the men you lived with, standing in the middle of the room. All the other men, including the one who rescued you the day it all broke out, dead on the floor. One was shot in the stomach, the other one right in the chest, the last right through the head. You stood there with widened eyes, completely in shock while shakily aiming your gun at the man. "Why did you do this?! I-I thought we were a family?! How could you?!" His eyes fell upon you, and he laughed even louder. "Awww, isn't that cute! She seriously thinks she can defend herself!" He grabbed one of the dead men by the hair and pulled him up so his empty, cold eyes could face you. He dropped him to the floor again, seemingly not caring whatsoever. "You've lost your mind!" You yelled at him, trying to hide every speck of insecurity you could. "So what if I did?! You can't stop me! You're just a lousy little girl! Come here baby! Come here and join your little 'family'!" He laughed and laughed and laughed, the sound of his laugh burned into your mind. You kept on aiming the gun at him, slowly approaching him. You never killed anyone before, the men only told you how to, but you never tried it out. All you ever did was shoot at beer cans here and there. "Come on baby! Shoot me! Look! I'm right here!~" He started jumping around, visibly taunting and mocking you, while giggling like a psychopath. "I'll shoot you!...You know I will!" No matter how hard you tried, it was still easy to tell how scared and uneasy you were. "Then do it you fucking pussy!" You arranged your aim, and closed your eyes. "Go ahead you fu-" Another gunshot fell, this time from YOUR gun. You opened your eyes again, just to see the man holding his dirty hand against the wound you just caused in his stomach, while slowly sliding down the table onto the floor. "Y/N....Y/N....take...take care okay....never...trust.....anyone....I'm sorry....." You stood there, looking down at him, absorbing his words and what just happened. These men taught you everything you needed to know, so you did what they taught you to. You grabbed a backpack from the storage room and grabbed as many things as possible. "Good bye guys....thank you for everything...see you around..." You left the house in which you had lived, and went onto the empty, ruined streets. Here and there were some random people vandalizing what already was vandalized, beating into cars with baseball bats, spraying random logos onto the wall, smashing windows, drinking booze. You were ready to face the world now.

·Back to the present ·

You walked down the wasted streets, one hand gripping the strap of your backpack full of supplies, the other tightly gripping your loaded gun. You were in search of a place for temporary shelter, and possibly even some more supplies. You needed more ammo, possibly more water too. You walked past multiple houses, and looked into the windows to see if they were empty or not, if they seemingly had supplies or not and so on. "Jackpot."

You found a house with seemingly many supplies in it, you saw two men standing there arranging the closets with supplies. You did what you always did, and climbed in through the window. "Helloooo!~" You shouted once you entered the home. "Wha-" You shot right through that man’s head, and shot the other man right through the chest. "Was nice meeting you!" If there was one thing you learned, it was not to show mercy. If you showed mercy, you'd make yourself appear weak, if people saw you as weak, things simply wouldn't go out so well. You lifted the heavy, dead corpses one by one and threw them outside. "What a lovely home, I'll love staying here for the next few nights. Finally some good sleep for me..." It was important to find shelter for the nights, because that is when the different gangsters and thugs went out to fight each other. It simply wasn't safe, because they didn't care who they killed, as long as they killed someone. You let yourself fall onto the couch and started cleaning your gun a little bit with a piece of cloth you picked up. The sun almost was fully down, and you were sure that you'd finally have a little bit of peace now, but you were wrong.

Someone knocked on the door, so you went over to it and carefully opened it. You automatically aimed your gun at the intruder. It was a young man, maybe a little bit older than you. He sure was quite handsome, you had to admit. "Who are you and what do you want here on MY plot?" You asked in a monotone voice. The man that entered the house lifted his hands showing you he wasn't armed at the moment and had no bad intentions...yet. "Look...It's turning night, and me and my group need a shelter-" You interrupted the young man. "And why should I care?" You softly wrapped your finger around the trigger, ready to fire at any moment. "Please, look, we don't need any supplies or anything, just a place to stay, really, we won't do anything." The man seemed desperate. "I don't care who you are, nor what you want, leave now before you regret it." You were about to close the door on him, but he reached in between. "Please, let's make a deal, I'll give you whatever you need, i don't know, I can offer you ammo or a new knife or something. Please, just let us stay here, we'll leave first thing in the morning." Ammo was the exact thing you needed, a new knife sounded good too. "Hm...sounds like a deal... okay, you may stay, but as soon as I get only a little bit suspicious, I will shoot you AND your friends." The man let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, may I ask what your name is?" You put your gun down, still holding on to it tightly though. "The name's Y/N, yours?” You looked at him full of curiosity. "I'm Kim Namjoon. Nice making business with you.~" He turned around. "Guys you can come in!"

His group came walking in and Namjoon introduced every single one of them to you. First a man walked in with messy orange-tinted hair, a lollipop in his mouth, and a skateboard in his hand, you could see hints of blood splatters on the skateboard. "This is Kim Taehyung." He grinned at you slightly weirdly. "Hello there!~" He giggled a little bit. "Don't mind him, he is kind of weird..but like in a good way I swear." Namjoon added reassuringly. "Good to know..." You turned your head to the side, and sighed. What were you getting yourself into? You looked at the man named Taehyung. He looked like one of those guys all your friends would've been flying for, back then. You couldn't help but feel curious about what he did with that skateboard. The next one walked in, he was a short muscular man with red hair. Not ginger red, but like really really red. He had a few bruises in his face, and a jawline as sharp as a knife. "So this is Jimin, people tend to underestimate him due to his height, but trust me, he is a force to be reckoned with." Jimin didn’t seem too much in the mood to explain a lot, seems as if he just got out of a nasty fight or something. "Hi." You eyed him up and down."Hello Jimin." Next up was a man, only slightly taller than him, with pitch black hair and a red cap. His skin was really pale, and you were slightly concerned. His hands were as pale as his face, but his knuckles were hurt and slightly red. "This is Min Yoongi, he tends to be quite quiet, so don't expect to hear too much from him." Yoongi only glanced at you for a second before looking away again, seemingly unbothered by the whole situation. "..uh....hello..." You ironically greeted him with a lot of enthusiasm. "Hi Yoongi." Now a man entered the room, he seemed quite tall and muscular. He had light brown fluffy hair. His lip had a cut on one side, as if he also had a fight with someone earlier. His face appeared very youthful. "This is Jeon Jungkook, our little Kookie." Namjoon ruffled Jungkook’s hair. "He's the youngest of us." The young man seemed quite cheerful. "Hi!" You haven’t seen a happy face for so long. "Hey there!" He seemed to be a cheery, playful guy. A blonde guy came in now, with a huge heartwarming smile. In comparison to the others, you really didn't notice anything suspicious about him. "This is Jung Hoseok, our sunshine, he tends to be kind of loud once in a while but he has the best spirit!" The man named Hoseok walked up to you. "Hello..Y/N right?" His incredibly wide smile, made you smile back at him. "Yup, nice meeting you!" The last man entered the room. He had brown hair and broad shoulders. Same as Jimin he had a few bruises spread across his surprisingly handsome face. "This is Jin, the oldest one of us." The man bent over slightly out of politeness, you haven’t seen that in a while either. "Hey there." You smiled at him as well. "Hello."

You took a second to look at Namjoon again. His hair was platinum blond, there was something about his face that really caught your attention. He, I don't know, just seemed different. You observed him closely to see if he had any bruises as well. You looked at him closely, just to see the outline of a gun sticking out of his pocket. You decided to not mention that, -just yet."Okay, make yourselves at home, but mark my words, act suspicious and I'll pierce your skulls with a bullet, try attacking me and I'll murder you and your friends within seconds, do something bad and I swear to god I will kill you in the most painful way possible, got it?" The group of men nodded, seemingly not taking it too serious. You let the boys wander through the house as they pleased, and you decided to go to the kitchen to see what you could find for now.

[spnsimpleman]

The Unknowns: Six

This is a continuation for The Unknowns.  Which was a one shot and is now a long ass Prologue.  Part One.  Part Two. Part Three. Part Four.  Part Five. 

Dean x Psychic!reader

Teaser/Summary: An AU sparked from a songfic challenge, The Unknowns is based on Season One Episode Nine, Dean met reader in Lawrence as a child and they created an unbreakable bond. At the end of The Unknowns, reader decided to stick with her boys because she felt something coming but she holds secrets; one she holds close to her heart and a few that she doesn’t even really know yet.

Word count: 4839

Lines borrowed from season one episode sixteen, “Shadow” in Bold.

I walked around the living room and wondered what was taking the boys so long. Sam said it wouldn’t take much time to get the uniforms but I had been able to dig into Meredith’s past enough for a family member alias and talked my way into her apartment five minutes ago. At least a good thirty minutes of work. So much for costumes making it work. I should’ve made a bet.

This had always been one of the harder parts of hunting for me. The boys could search a person’s life for clues and most times stay objective, detached enough to do the job while still respecting the dead they’re trying to give a little justice. I walked through the shell of this woman’s life and picked up more than a fair share of who she was. The victims were always more real to me in a sense like I had known them, interacted with them, and sometimes cared for them.

Dean hadn’t understood it at first. He couldn’t understand why I couldn’t shake them off like other impressions but going through a place that someone had made their home left so many fingerprints of who they are, it’s impossible not to get to know them. Sometimes I felt like I had known them forever mainly because they felt like someone I had either known or like someone I would want to.

Meredith was orderly without being a clean freak. Her desk was neat but inside the drawers, things were haphazard. Her living room was nicely furnished but on a budget and she still kept CDs and cassette tapes with a stereo that played both instead of going completely digital. There were pops of color and decor that stuck out, things that caught her eye and she bought on a whim just because it made her day a little brighter.

She was happy here but there was a recent underlying loneliness that pervaded the rooms, something she was hopeful might change hence the surface cleaning she had done recently. She had met someone and the hope of something new, an exciting change in the air that still hung around.

“Miss Rodgers?” The landlady called from the front of the apartment.

“Yes?” I left the bedroom and tried to leave Meredith there where her hope for the future still dominant.

“These men are from the alarm company. They’re just going to check into things if you don’t mind.”

I walked into the living room and eyed them. Okay, the uniforms were a nice touch, Dean didn’t look half bad in his. I met dean’s gaze and scowled, “your alarms are shit.”

The surprise on Dean’s face was priceless then his pulse of excitement fluttered in my stomach. He glanced at the landlady, she answered with a raised brow and a smile. “This is Meredith’s sister.”

“We’re sorry for your loss.” Sam gave me the client treatment he was so damn good at because he meant it.

“We’re going to make sure it doesn’t happen again, mam.” Dean sauntered toward me and stuck out his hand, “I’m Dean.”

“Save it for someone who cares,” I snapped and pivoted away then glanced over my shoulder, “by the way, your name’s written on your chest, asshat.” I walked out of the room and shut the bedroom door to cover the laughter I was afraid I couldn’t hold in. Dean’s arousal spiked through me and I bit my lip.

I listened at the door while they talked with her then she finally took her leave with a word of warning. “You boys do your business and leave her alone. She’s suffered enough, the poor thing.”

Once the front door shut, I stepped out and Dean was already halfway to me. “What took you guys so…” Dean’s mouth cut me off.

“Dude! Crime scene.”

Dean pulled away and I had to force myself not to follow. “That had to happen. I’m working, don’t distract me.”

I watched him walk over to the toolbox and squat down to pull out a piece of equipment. He glanced over his shoulder and raised his brow. I grinned then walked over to Sam. “Just centering myself.” Dean choked then cleared his throat.

Sam looked up from his emf meter slightly annoyed, “what did you find?”

“I stayed away from the carpet but everywhere else is untouched. Zero trace except for there, like it just apparated out of nowhere and tore her apart. I didn’t want to go any closer to it without you guys. It’s heavy, dark. Whatever this thing is it’s not in our normal wheelhouse.” I looked down at the carpet and Dean sidled up next to me and tilted his head.  

“So it’s probably a spirit.”

Dean’s interest spiked and I started to notice a pattern when Dean asked for masking tape. We split up until Sam found some in the kitchen and Dean got to work.

I knelt down and brushed my hand from one spot to the next then had to back away. Her death may have been relatively fast but it wasn’t fast enough.

Sam’s hand touched my back and I gave him an appreciative smile. Dean was almost finished when Sam finally asked the question burning a hole in his head. “Did you get something?”

I stared at the carpet as Dean connected his last dot. “I’ve never felt anything like this, like a reaper but different… no rules or class type different. This thing is ancient and dark.”

Dean stood up and we took in the symbol he created that didn’t give us anything but a new clue to follow.

~~

Sam and I walked into the loud bar and sat down at the first open table. He opened John’s journal and pulled out the newspapers clippings we gathered at the library. Sam glanced over at Dean leaning on the bar. “I still don’t know how he does that with you right here.”

I looked at Dean, his easy smile and the confidence in his stance. “He’s harmless besides he really can get people to talk. Okay, mainly women but you have to admit he has a pretty face.” Sam chuckled and shook his head. “I find it interesting to watch him work.”

“He’s flirting.”

“But he does it so well.” I grinned feeling his eye roll, “besides I flirt for cases. Remember that time when I had to get us into that museum…”

He turned to me, “are you serious? You mean the case where Dean decked the dude because he tried pulling you into an artifacts room.”

“Different museum. That was the first time I used my feminine wiles to get further in the case. Not telling Dean ahead of time was a bad choice.”

Sam laughed, “you two are so weird.”

I leaned into him, “we’re all a little weird, Sammy.”

“What are you two giggling like school girls for?” Dean strutted toward the table.

“Hilarious.”

“Hi, lover,” I smirked as Dean leaned down and kissed me.

“Won’t the bartender you were flirting with be offended that you’re over here kissing someone?”

Dean dragged the stool on the other side of the table over toward me and sat down grinning at Sam, “nope. I was getting her number for you. She thinks you’re cute, by the way.”

Sam threw a glance at the bartender then dropped his head and began to ramble about the small amount of information we found on the one other victim besides Meredith. There were no dots to connect except for the cause of death.

Dean’s hand had started at my knee and began inching up my leg. I think he was listening but it was impossible to tell with the storm he was creating.  

The flare of recognition then confusion spiked through the haze of sexual energy before I noticed it on Sam’s face. He got up and walked across the room. Dean watched him then looked at me in question. I shrugged, “I think he knows someone.”

Dean twisted in his seat to see who Sam was stalking toward. “Think we should check it out?”

“I don’t know. Why?”

“Because I’m bored and when was the last time Sam did that?”

“You’re always bored.” I grinned and he turned back to me then leaned toward me.

“Not always.” Butterflies burst in my stomach as he trailed his fingers down my neck and over my collarbone.

“You have been extremely horny recently.”

“A new lease on life can do that to a man especially if he’s got a beautiful, strong woman teasing him all the time.”

“I am not a tease,” I smirked and slid my hand up his leg.

His eyes widened, “I’d call that teasing.”

I grabbed his jacket and yanked him to me so we were nose to nose. I glanced down at his mouth then met his gaze again, delighting in his dilating pupils. “That, my friend, is called foreplay. It’s only a tease if I don’t follow through.”

He closed his eyes and waited. I released him then got off my seat. “Oh look, Sam met a friend.” I started across the room and glanced over my shoulder to see the smirk stretch into a smile as he jumped off his stool and strode toward me with a purpose that heated my skin.

Dean caught up with me, grabbing my ass as I stopped beside Sam, bumping into him. I apologized before looking at the blonde woman in front of him. A muffled scream ripped through my head. I grabbed Dean’s hand and squeezed while forcing a smile.

“This is my best friend Y/n and my brother Dean.”

“This is Dean?”

I tried to keep up with the conversation but my focus was on the woman in front of me or really on what she wasn’t saying. That scream definitely came from her and there were conflicting emotions and energies that didn’t make sense. Anger, abandonment, rage, loneliness, and darkness, but there was some kind of disconnect that broke them apart yet they were tied together.

Dean tugged my hand and I glanced his way. He tilted his head toward the bar and pulled me with him. I waved at the woman then followed Dean’s lead.

“Did you hear that? I treat him like luggage? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I didn’t lock him in the trunk. What the fuck, I don’t even know her. I should put him in the trunk, I just have to bend those long ass legs and he’d fit. Oh, he’d fit.” The bartender put a drink in front of him and he ordered another for me then squeezed my hand. “You okay?”

I looked up still confused but more comfortable with the distance. “Something’s weird with her.”

“Leave it to Sam to find a crazy one.”

“I think it’s deeper than that but I don’t understand it.” Dean and I glanced back and Sam had his phone out. “Sam’s not too sure about something either.”

Dean knocked back his shot and I reached for mine glancing back at Sam with a hint of something I always took as a warning. By the pricking of my thumbs. Pamela’s voice whispered a reminder in my head, instincts keep you alive, honey. Never shake away a guiding hand.

I caught Sam’s glance and he headed for the table. I knocked back the shot and squeezed Dean’s hand. “Settle the tab. We’ll meet you at the door.”

Another flare of arousal but I ignored it. We definitely needed our own room tonight. Sam already had everything back in the journal and was closing it when I stopped next to him. “Who was that?”

He glanced over my shoulder toward the blonde woman then indicated the door. We started for it and he leaned toward me, “I don’t know but it’s… weird.”

I looked up at him, “what do you mean?”

“I met her on the side of the road when I left you guys weeks ago and we just happen to bump into each other again? It’s just weird. It just feels…”

“Oh, Something’s definitely off about her but I don’t know what it is.” We went outside and waited just to the side of the door. “Same place Meredith worked. Even without what I felt.”

“Right?” Sam sighed, “I thought I’d have to talk you guys into this.”

“Into what?”

Dean walked out and moved straight for us. “Who the hell was that, luggage? That’s what she said, right? You bitching about me…”

I pressed my hand to the middle of his chest and he looked down at me. “Dean.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Dean. It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just listen…”

“Well, is there any truth to what she’s saying? Because you know that shit just ends up blowing up in our faces…”

“No, of course not. Now, would you listen?” 

Dean glanced down at me before looking at his brother, “go on.”

“I could be wrong, I’m just sayin’ that there’s something about this girl that I can’t quite put my finger on.”

Dean grinned and I elbowed him before he could say a word. “I don’t know what’s up with her but I get like… a caged feeling if that makes any sense.”

Dean glanced at me and Sam started walking away from the bar. We caught up with him and he looked at me, “do me a favor. Check and see if there’s really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can’t dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith’s floor.”

I grabbed his arm, “I don’t like it.”

He stopped, “I don’t have a choice. If there is something going on here that she’s involved in?”

“Y/n and I are great at research. You go watch your crazy girlfriend.”

Sam gave him a disapproving look and I squeezed Sam’s arm. “Be careful. I don’t like what I felt from her and I hate that I don’t know what it means.”

Sam nodded, “you and me both.” He handed me John’s journal and held out his hand for the car keys. Dean handed them over wiggling his eyebrows.

I watched Sam then tugged Dean’s arm and we headed down the sidewalk toward the motel.

Dean wrapped his arm around my back until his hand rested on my hip then dipped into my jeans. “We’re going to have the room to ourselves for what, an hour? Maybe more?”

“And we have research to do.”

“How long could it possibly take to look up some chick and an old symbol?”

I thought it over and asked the real question, “you mean how long will it take if we have sex first or after?”

“You wouldn’t.”

I grinned staring toward the motel enjoying the anticipation. “It’s amazing how fast you work when there’s something so…”

“Devil woman.” But his excitement stroked my own and I had to tamp down the rising rebel. I was not going to let our out of control sex drives make Sam feel like he was doing all the work.

“I was going to say tempting but whatever helps you get the job done.”

He maneuvered behind me then gripped my hips as we awkwardly continued to walk with his mouth against my neck. “I always get the job done.”

“You’ve admitted sometimes it’s better when I beg.”

He hissed, “fuck,” then lightly bit my neck.

“We’ll get there if you can find out what that symbol is.”

“And you dig up crazytown?”

“Yup.”

He whipped around me, grabbed my hand, and hustled through the parking lot. I was throbbing and a full on ache had already started but I couldn’t stop the laughter. It was a kneejerk reaction and Dean knew it.

He opened the door, yanked me inside, and pushed me against the door simultaneously shutting it and pinning me in place.

He kissed my neck then hovered his mouth in front of mine. His tongue swiped out in a very deliberate move over his bottom lip then he smirked at my uncontrollable moan. He leaned in achingly slow and moved his head to the side bringing his lips flush against my ear, “forty-five tops until you crack.”

My shuttering inhale may have been a reaction but I arched my back for more contact with his chest then snaked my hand in between us brushing by his jeans zipper. “I bet I can confirm Meg Masters in thirty minutes.”

He sucked in a breath, “what do I have to do again?”

I gripped his hips and yanked him against me. “Symbol. Meaning and origin, if possible.”

He dropped his head on my shoulder and groaned. “You’re going to have to push me away.”

I slipped my hands under his shirt then skimmed around the top of jeans to his stomach before sliding up to his chest. He lifted his head and stared at me with an intensity that matched the energy dancing inside me. I bit my lip as my gaze landed on his mouth then pressed my lips to his far too gently to ease any of the aches throbbing between us. I pulled back, “just a taste to tide you over.” His eyes flashed and I almost lost my own resolve.

“Symbol.” He whispered, his voice husky.

“Crazytown. The Journal’s in the secret pocket of my jacket.” He slipped his hand inside my jacket brushing against my breast and I closed my eyes reminding myself we had a job to do first, that Sam was depending on us. Dean’s pride rushed through me and the journal left its spot.

I pushed him away and he turned, striding over to the bed as I went straight to the table. I sat down and my jeans pressed against my bundle of nerves. Even if I could stifle my moan, Dean already felt the echo.

“Oh, come on, that’s cheating.”

I opened the laptop and powered it on, focusing on what I needed to find immediately. Anticipation was amazing but now I was bordering on torture. The next thirty minutes would be impossible.

Dean was already calling someone in John’s journal and the search engine finally opened. How long could it possibly take?

Twenty minutes later, I was wet and every movement was a torturous tease. I had called Pamela hoping she’d be able to give me answers about what I felt from Meg and for a distraction but I had to leave a message. Every time I’d get a little clarity, a shift in my seat or a flare from Dean brought me right back. I’d just about given up on my whole plan when the search finally yielded results.

I jumped up from my seat and he stood from the bed. He dropped the journal on the floor and we snapped, slamming together like runaway trains. His hands were everywhere and mine were seeking to rid him of his clothes but then sense magically reappeared and hit the breaks.

I pressed my forehead to his, “wait.” We were panting, our shirts on the floor, his belt was undone and my jeans were unbuttoned. “Sam first.” He chuckled and I shook my head, “not done until Sam has the infor…” my breath hitched as he shoved his hand into my pants and cupped the ache throbbing between my legs.

I growled, “fucking hell, not done. I’ve made it this long I can damn well make it three more minutes.” I dragged him over to the bed, grabbed the notebook he was writing in, then yanked him over to my chair and shoved him onto it.

I picked up my phone, hit Sam’s speed dial, and pressed it into Dean’s hand. He stared at the phone and I straddled his lap with a single grind for that cheap trick.

“I’m not going to be able to thi…” he cleared this throat, “let me guess you’re lurking outside of crazytown’s apartment, aren’t you? Meg. Who else would I be talking about?”

I rolled my hips and he clenched his teeth. I pressed a kiss to the back of his jaw then sucked lightly at the sweet spot on his neck.

“Yeah, everything checks out, we even got her high school photo.”

I bit lightly on his earlobe and whispered, “we?”

“Why don’t you knock on her door and invite her to a poetry reading. Ow.”

I rubbed the spot on his arm where I had just dug my nails. “Ignore him, Sam. He’s just a little frustrated.”

He narrowed his eyes at me as he listened to Sam’s response. “Yeah, I did have some luck with that.”

I leaned back and unhooked my bra as he continued to rattle off the information with his eyes glued to my chest. I touched each strap on my shoulders and he licked his lips as his gaze flicked up to mine.

“They’re savage.” I pushed off one strap and let it fall.

“Animalistic.”

Then did the same with the second. My arms were the only thing keeping the final pieces of material between our upper bodies. “Who cares how I found out. Just listen, these things have to be summoned and they’re worse than a bound reaper.” He pinched the cup of my bra and gazed directly into my eyes as he pulled it down.

I massaged the back of his neck and his gaze darted up to mine. “Nobody knows, dude. They haven’t been seen in a millennia. Like y/n said, it’s ancient and somebody has to know their stuff. I think we got a major player in town.” He leaned forward until his mouth was achingly close, “now why don’t you give that girl a private stripogram. No, bite her. Just don’t leave teeth marks though just enough to where…” he grinned up at me and snapped his phone shut throwing it over his shoulder. “Gets him every time.”

I squirmed in his lap, his mouth was still so close. “Dean.”

His eyes flashed and his tongue swept over his lips. I moaned and rolled my hips shamelessly rubbing against him while my kneading fingers dug into his neck urging him closer. He opened his mouth and the heat alone lit up my nerve endings.

The corner of his mouth quirked up, “yeah, I love this.”

Just as I was considering arching my back to push closer, he finally closed his mouth over my nipple. I cried out at the burst of sensations from his side and mine and rubbed against him, riding out the orgasm.

He whispered against my skin as he lifted me from the chair, “I told you I get the job done.”

I smirked dropping my feet to the floor and pushed him toward the bed, “job’s not done yet, cowboy.”

He was already kicking out of his jeans with his gaze riveted on my hands pushing my own down further with each step toward him. “Oh, hell yes. This…” his gaze shot up to mine as the back of his legs hit the bed, “this is my favorite.”

~~

Excited voices drew me from a warm dream. It was like little pokes in my head until I could finally put meaning to words.

“But I don’t understand. What’s the significance of Lawrence? And how do these Daeva things fit in?”

“Beats me. But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation.”

“What are you doing?” I leaned up on my elbow. “I thought you were supposed to pick something up from that officer… Amy?”

“That was forty minutes ago.”

I rubbed my eyes, my mind still clearing the fog, “what?”

“We’ve got something solid. It’s gotta be the demon. We’re going to…”

“We shouldn’t tip her off. We’ve gotta stake out that warehouse and see who or what is showing up to meet her.”

Dean turned back to Sam, “I don’t think we should do this alone. He’d want to be a part of this.”

That warning crept along my neck and prickled down my arms. I sat up, “I don’t think you should go at all.”

They both looked at me, “what?”

“Something’s not right with her.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, she’s controlling some ancient attack dogs.”

“Beyond that.”

Sam was hesitant and I wondered if he could feel the building tension too.

Dean, on the other hand, was determined, confident in his decision, even relishing the possible end in his sights. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to the thing that killed mom.”

“Or it’s just what it wants you to think!” I snapped and glared at him feeling his anger waver in my chest. “What if the whole thing is a setup?”

Sam walked over to the bed and sat down, staying calm and in control. “We knew it would be tricky getting close to the thing.”

“Your dad’s been close to it before. It wasn’t stumbling upon a case that’s too neat.”

“What do you mean too neat? These people were torn apart!” Dean stood up so fast the chair fell backward. His frustration was flooding his system so bad that he had to move but he was fighting it.

“These murders that pulled us in and Meg being here.” I looked at Sam hoping he’d see reason. “You said it was weird that you bumped into Meg here. You felt something off about it.”

“That’s why I followed her.”

“And what if she knew? What if that was part of the plan?” That hit Sam and his bubbling excitement faded just a bit.

“What plan? Sammy’s good, he was taught by the best and if this is our shot at taking it out then we’re taking it!” Dean began to pace and I couldn’t figure out why he was suddenly so gung-ho.

“What changed in the last forty minutes that makes you so sure?” I tried to calm down. I knew that we could get out of hand and shutting him out may only make things worse with the way the bond’s been since that night the reaper came for him.

Dean stormed over to the table, using the space to calm down too. He picked up two pieces of paper and came back handing them to me. “Place of birth.”

I skimmed the birth certificates and my stomach twisted into knots. “This only solidifies my theory. You’re too close to this.”

“Of course, I’m close to this! The damn thing killed my mother!”

I jumped out of the bed and stabbed my finger into his chest. “You think I don’t remember that?! Maybe I don’t want your dumbass strolling in there to let him kill you too!”

“That’s not gonna happen!”

“How would you know?!”

“Because we’re not stupid!”

“Neither was your mother!”

Dean raised his hand and I stared back at him. Anger, frustration, fear, and hurt bounced back and forth with the force of a heavy steel ball, each one hitting harder than the last. There was never any fear that he would lay a harmful hand on me but Sam’s fear in that moment broke the loop. 

I examined Dean’s hand, clenched in almost a claw that he would run through his hair whenever that pulse of anger released but Sam didn’t know that. I knew we’d gone too far or really, were too far gone to tell.

I stepped back as Dean’s hands dove roughly into his hair. I was standing there with just Dean’s black tee shirt on and thankfully, he had thought to put it on me at some point or I’d be standing there completely naked. Another sign we were too close to this, that things had gotten out of hand.

I climbed over the bed and grabbed my jeans from the floor and tugged them on then stormed out of the room without a word. I needed to release some of the pent-up energy. I needed to get away so I only had my feelings to deal with and sort out. I walked with a quick step through the hall and down the stairs trying to look normal then burst out into the night air.

I stood on the wet, cold sidewalk in bare feet and pulled my arms into Dean’s tee shirt. There was a cheap plastic chair under the awning to the right of the back door and I sat down pulling my legs up to my chest. I lowered my forehead to my knees and pressed his shirt to my nose. Breathing him in and thinking of how different it was only two hours ago.

How did that get so out of hand so damn fast? Miss Mary. Neither one of us were all that clear-headed when we thought of that night and what we lost. I should’ve thought of that, I should’ve known, but even with extraordinary abilities, I was still human whether I liked it or not.

Seven

@duchessofwinchester , @jodyri , @jencharlan , @deanssweetheart23 @torn-and-frayed , @chrisatplay , @mogaruke , @captainemwinchester , @ashrod98 , @mrswhozeewhatsis , @purgatoan  , @caitsymichelle13  , @escabell

[deehollowaywrites]

I missed celebrating National Girlfriends Day with you fine folks because I was busy kissing my own girlfriend, so, a belated pair of girlfriends in beds. SFW, not necessarily emotionally safe.

“Fuck,” I mutter, and tug a pillow over my face. It’s one of Adair’s frilly decorative pillows, and lace gets sucked into my mouth when I draw a big breath to sigh. I cough instead. “Fuck!”

“Babe,” Adair says, sliding down in the bed next to me. She wiggles until her knee crosses mine, and an arm wraps over my waist. “Everything ok?”

I toss the pillow aside, narrowly missing the cat where he’s perched on the foot of the bed. He scowls at me, then leaps onto the bureau and keeps glaring from a distance. When Adair squeezes my waist, I dig my phone out from beneath the covers and show it to her.

“Phone call from Aunt Marie,” Adair reads off the screen. It’s clipped, sure–all texts from my mother are terse–but it makes me wince again. “All right. So who’s Aunt Marie?”

I turn my head enough to look at her face on the pillow, the creamy linens reflecting light off her perfect skin. One eyebrow arches into her waiting expression.

“Marie’s one of Mom’s cousins,” I say. “Not an aunt. Anyway, she’s a raging–” I cut off what I was about to say. Adair’s been trying to gently break me of the habit of calling women cunts, even if it’s true. “Let’s just say I wasn’t expecting to have to deal with this shit.”

“Deal with what, exactly? All Iona says is that she talked to her.”

“She wants an invite,” I groan. “I can tell. If she called and got all high-and-mighty, Mom wouldn’t have even bothered telling me. She definitely wants to come to the wedding.”

“Ok,” Adair says. “I mean, we were expecting a lot of distant relations.” She rolls closer and kisses my cheek, and the simplicity of the motion makes me want to cry–to just huddle up to her and cry into her neck and not think about the least favorite members of my family. “Everyone from Bob Baffert to your not-Aunt Marie, apparently, wants to come to the biggest bluegrass bash of the year.”

“We could always elope,” I say. This is not the first time either of us has said that. “Stick Mom with the bill, run off to–fuck, I don’t know, Croatia. Let everyone party without us.”

“We are not eloping,” Adair says, in the voice I love. It’s not bossy–she doesn’t need to be bossy–but it’s firm and takes no shit, and when she talks like that she can tell me whatever she wants, because the panties are already off. “We’ve put way too much effort into this to elope.”

She’s not wrong. Our bed right now… hell, our bed and dining room table and study for the past three months… is proof of effort. The bridal magazines, the lists of caterers and bakeries, the spreadsheet of friends, relations, and people-who-must-not-be-pissed-off. She’s being a saint about it, as far as I’m concerned, considering that a fair chunk of the guest list is purely political. On the other hand, it’s kind of a match made in Heaven. She has very specific ideas about weddings, complete with a binder she’s been adding to since she was a kid, so a big party is a foregone conclusion. Big parties are useful for people in my line of work. Plenty of schmooze opportunities.

“I just don’t know why she’d want to come,” I say. “Marie. She’s… Well, she doesn’t like me. You know.”

“I can’t imagine.” Adair’s eyes narrow as she laughs. “Totally unrelatable.”

I reach beneath the covers and tug her hand up, kissing the back of it and then the diamond on her ring finger. Sixteen carats, princess-cut because that’s what she is, glowing in the white-gold band on her dark skin. Almost as pretty as her. I kiss her palm and then wrap her arm around me and wriggle in, aiming for her lips.

“Felix,” she murmurs. “Why do I feel like you’re being avoidant?”

“This is all exhausting.” I’m being a whiny brat, but it bubbles up anyway. “There’s so much to figure out and everyone’s got an opinion, and I can’t remember why we let Mom pay for any of it, because that means she thinks I care about her opinion–”

“We don’t have to invite anyone we don’t want to,” Adair reminds me. “If Aunt Marie’s as terrible as all that, she doesn’t get an invitation. Does she own a horse you want to ride?” I shake my head, strands of hair brushing Adair’s cheek. “Does she have any impact on your life or career whatsoever?”

“No.”

“So she’s not coming.”

“It’s not even that.” I turn over onto my back, nestled into Adair’s side. “It’s just the thought of telling Mom that. She shouldn’t need telling, but I’ll have to tell her, and then she’ll ask me why, because Marie’s family and family should come, and I’ll have to really, actually, straight-up fuckin’ say that I don’t want homophobic, wrinkled old twats at my wedding–”

“Felix.” But Adair’s giggling. “We’ll talk to her about it when we go for dinner on Sunday.”

“We could just tell her we’re eloping,” I say hopefully. “Or we could just not go to dinner, and run away. You should bring your wedding-night lingerie. Dress optional.”

Adair is quiet for a minute. She tips her cheek against my head and sighs, and I smell a faint tinge of coffee on her breath. It’s nearing noon, and we haven’t really managed to get out of bed yet, just hopped out to make coffee and piss and hopped back in to get all snuggly against the gross January weather. I’m not sure we can. We might be trapped under fifteen back issues of Bride and Adair’s wedding binder and swatches of fabric for possible dresses.

“Don’t worry about your mother,” she says. “Or this not-Aunt Marie. Just–just remember why, Felix.” She kisses my temple. “Remember Saratoga? Remember that. Why we’re doing this at all.”

Saratoga season, nearly six months ago now. The Whitney and my stupid ass pulling it off basically on accident, for a favor, and Adair knocking my boots off in the winners’ circle. She’d knocked them off for real barely an hour later, my boots and breeches and everything else, the two of us in an upstairs room at the racecourse and unable to get naked fast enough. The world outside was buzzing--Felix Hamilton back in the irons for a Whitney triumph, wedding bells in the air at Honeycomb Hills?–and there was nothing but her. Her and me, together, always. I wanted it then, even if neither of us had a ring on yet, and I’d wanted it while I was still on horseback and she was beaming up at me, eyes dancing, and I’d wanted it for a long time. It got buried so fast, once our parents and friends caught onto the fact that it was happening, and everyone and their pony had a venue recommendation or opinions about wedding cake. It got lost in the cracks between guest lists and tailors and reassuring Phil that yes, she was the best photographer we knew, but we wanted her to have fun and actually attend our wedding, but absolutely, she could do the engagement photos.

But it’s still true, what Adair wants and what I want, and here in our bed, even with magazines poking me in the ribs, it’s so easy to remember.

You always think, in the middle of it, that there’s nothing else you need–nothing else you could ever want–that it’ll always be this way, always feel this good, there’ll always be a beautiful girl beneath you, next to you, all through you, laughing and sighing, familiar as breath.

I tried not to kid myself. I traveled too much and I loved it too much, the fast stuff and the winning and the horses, and I knew exactly what she thought of all that, and when I pretended not to, she reminded me. It wasn’t like I never had a girlfriend again, and it sure wasn’t like she never did; it wasn’t like being friends with her wasn’t nearly as good, hadn’t been just what my senior year of high school needed, that weird sort of disapproving resistance that circled back around to support because, when you got right down to it, she knew how to let me be in a way my parents never had.

“Oh–” Jessa murmured, and moved under my hands, the softest parts of her twisting. “Just like that.”

I said I know to her skin, because I did know, and there was nothing in my head but light, bright as the track lights at the Downs during the summer’s night races. It struck me wild every time, that I did know. It kept being true, all of it, what she liked and how she sounded, felt, looked. Her hair on a white pillowcase in Louisville, braided, and her hair on a blue pillowcase in my Harlem studio, twisted, and her hair on a pink pillowcase in Miami, natural. Not all the time, or even most of the time; not the times she was dating someone, or I was; and sometimes I wondered whether her parents looked at it the way I knew mine did, whether her friends in New York sucked their teeth when my name came up the way Marcy’s eyes narrowed on Skype when I mentioned Jessa.

I wish you two would get your shit together, Benny had told me once, so I’d had to go and really mop the dirt with his nosy ass, next race. Thirteen lengths shut him up for about five minutes.

Everything in my head exploded, sparkling-clear, when Jessa turned her face into my throat and made a sound that was almost like a sob. When all the pieces settled, I didn’t like the puzzle they formed. I laid there and breathed, her arm over my ribs and her legs curled through mine, stock-still even though she was kissing me, my neck and face, all over, and I should have been on top of her.

“Tallis,” she said, heavy and breathy. She was leaving lipstick on my skin, I knew, bright red to match the dress tossed across the foot of the bed. Fuck me but that dress had looked good in Gulfstream’s casino earlier. “Hey.”

Pillow talk wasn’t a skill I’d managed to develop. Some people were good at it–damn, there’d been a girl in Arcadia a summer back, and the shit she said to me, laying there with her head on her arm, was almost better than what had happened right before. Me, I couldn’t manage to not talk about horses for more than five minutes, or else jabbered over what was on cable right then, whether Jessa could be talked into more Great British Bake-Off or if she was going to abandon me for the bathtub. Any way you sliced it, my blabbermouth usually betrayed me.

“Why do you keep doing this?”

Jessa went up on her elbow and blinked down at me. She had her hair in narrow twists, all loose and covering her shoulders, caught in that unreal cleavage. “Um, I’m sorry. Is there a problem?” Her eyes moved past me to the bedside table, where my phone had lit up once or twice. “Somebody I should be aware of?”

“No–like, I just…I need to know. I don’t get it, I mean, I know you hate all this.” I shifted away from her, yanking the sheet up to my armpits. “You remind me all the time. I know exactly how much you hate it, I know you’re always–I can’t shower enough to get the smell off me. You hate it if I ride when I’m hurt, you know, every time your mom drags you to a stakes day or whatever you have a terrible time. It’s just like, why?”

Every word seemed to hit her a little harder than the last. Her lips pressed together, and a wrinkle grew between her eyebrows, her whole face squinching up tight like she was trying not to cry. It hadn’t occurred to me, honestly, that whatever I had to say–whatever had boiled up out of nowhere–would hurt her more than this…all of this…was already hurting me.

When she answered me her voice was tiny, barely there. “You know why.”

“I don’t!” I cried, and sat up. I wished someone would call me, Eddy even if it was bad news, or my mom, anything to give my coward ass a way out of this. “I don’t get it, Jessa, like, you just keep–you keep coming and finding me, here or in New York, and it’s not fair. You realize that, right? It’s not fucking fair, I mean, you keep making me think–I hate it, you make me hope–”

“I’ve never lied to you,” she said. I wished she would snap at me, but that wasn’t Jessa, never out of control. “We talked about this.”

We’d talked about this, more than once, and I’d always figured it was better to have something than nothing. To have a little of her if I couldn’t have all of her. To be casual, to be more friends than anything else, to have her family between us, to let travel and my career be the focus that Jessa thought they naturally were. Sure, I was obsessive. Sure, I finally had what I wanted. Sure, it was easy to be the grown version of the weird horse girl and let that shade in all the details people thought they saw when they looked at me. But she knew me the way most people didn’t.

It wasn’t that no one else knew me better. Eddy did, a lot of the time, and Gwen. But there were things I figured I’d never have to explain to Jessa, and this was one of them, because she already knew. She was the reason.

“I hate hope,” I told her, and choked on it. “I don’t want to have to hope anymore, you know? I just don’t want to. I don’t want to look at my phone and wonder if you’ll call me, like, I don’t want to think about whether you’ll be seeing someone the next time I see you.”

She was crying, silently, black-tinged tears sliding down her cheeks. She hadn’t taken her falsies off yet and teardrops hung on them before they fell. “You think it’s so easy for me?” Her voice wavered. “You think it’s easy for me to watch all this, girl? Yeah, you think you’re the one who has it hard, you think I’m off carefree, you honestly think I don’t give a shit? That it’s just–” She waved, harder than she probably meant to, because her hand slapped my shoulder. “I love you. If you let me I’d love you like…” She drew a hard breath, all shudders and snot in the back of her throat. “It’s like there’s one piece left, and you know how hard it is for me to keep that to myself? Every time I see you…”

“Yeah,” I said. “That’s cool, see, because I love you and I really do, and there’s nothing in me that doesn’t. I don’t get to keep anything back, like, I guess I skipped the day they taught that life skill.” My mouth, my stupid mouth, and my terrible traitor brain and my body that didn’t know how to lie. “This is it. Ok? Just so you know.”

I didn’t know whether I meant this was it–this the two of us, this mess of bodies in a bed–or if this was it, and she was it, and there would never be anything else.

When she slid up next to me I didn’t push her away, couldn’t make myself stand and let her arms drop from my waist. When she left the bed and got dressed and closed the hotel room’s door I didn’t follow her, because–despite everything that had just fallen out of me–there was always the possibility that she might come back.

[sweetnestor]

Story of Another Us | Week 8

university au, platonic af, now on ao3!

previous chapter | masterlist

Drowning beside you

“Wrote it down on the wall, she was screaming it out, Made it clear, she’s still here, are you listening now? Just a ghost in the halls, feeling empty, they’re vacant now…”

It was hard having to hear this song, much less sing it. But that was all I could do. It was one of the few songs that really captured exactly how I felt when it came to my relatives. I wasn’t singing it because I was going to post it on my channel, either. I was just trying to get out the bad feelings, but the more I sang it, the more I wanted to wallow.

“Hey Mom, hey Dad, when did this end? When did you lose your happiness? I’m here alone inside of this broken home…”

Sharing something so personal took its toll. I was crying on and off the days following when I uploaded that video. It felt like all these wounds had reopened and the bleeding would never stop. This was why I didn’t like talking about it. It just felt like all the pain was endless. I was thinking about how I felt when I was sixteen and suicidal, when I was twenty one and teetering on the edge. I could still feel my parents’ harsh words like it was yesterday. So I kept singing.

Externally, though, I tried to remain normal. I tweeted random crap, posted my MOTDs on Instagram, and played around with Snapchat filters like nothing was wrong. I still attended classes, usually after a small push from Mark or Jack. But everything felt weird. I felt incredibly vulnerable in front of them now. I mean, Mark knew about my family situation, but he didn’t know that I was suicidal for a period of time. Obviously, Jack didn’t know either, yet he was the first person I told. I wasn’t sure why that was.

A knock on my door interrupted my sad singing. Before I could even grant access, Jack walked in.

“You’ve had that song on repeat for a while,” he told me. “Are you sure you want to keep torturing yourself like this?”

I looked down at my keyboard and shrugged.

Jack approached me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You need to get out of your room, okay? Can we do that?”

I nodded lightly and got up. He was easy to listen to. Despite how loud and vulgar he was on camera, he was very gentle when he needed to be.

“Good, now give me a hug,” he said, opening his arms.

I obliged and wrapped my arms around his middle. He really did give good hugs.

“You’re not there anymore, Bella,” he told me, rubbing my back. “You never have to be in that place again.”

God, he was going to make me cry again. I took a deep breath, choosing not to respond to his words.

“Let’s do something fun!” he suggested when we parted. “You wanna do your makeup?”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. That’s when you know something is wrong. Makeup was my happy place, and I didn’t even want anything to do with it in this state of mind.

“You wanna do my makeup?” he asked without missing a beat.

It sounded exhausting, having to pick up brushes, putting things on his face. Exhausting, but interesting. I had a somewhat thoughtful look on my face, and that was enough for Jack. He dragged me over to the bathroom and stood me in front of the counter where all my makeup was.

“Make me look beautiful! I want the cat eyes and the, the contour!” he said, sounding very much like his online self.

I gave a small smile, but wordlessly began to look through my products. I was opening up different palettes, looking through foundations, and picking out my cleanest brushes. I kept looking at Jack’s face, trying to imagine different eye looks on him.

“Your hair is green, but your eyes are blue,” I said in thought.

“Is that bad?” he asked in response.

“Some people might say it’ll make a lot of colors clash,” I told him. “But I’ll just use whatever the fuck I have.”

I grabbed an eyeshadow primer and one of my Too Faced palettes. I hadn’t done another person’s makeup since I stopped booking clients. I actually liked the feeling, It came almost naturally. I appreciated that Jack was letting me do this.

“Why do you always start with the eyes?” he asked as I sweeped neutral shades over his lids.

“It makes cleaning up fallout a lot easier,” I replied. “So you don’t ruin any foundation or concealer under your eyes.”

Speaking of, it was a challenge to find a perfect match for Jack. I was darker than him, so many foundations in my collection didn’t match his skin tone. Too pink, too dark, too warm! Eventually I decided to just dot one of my concealers all over his face and blended it in.

“So why do you have to have a lighter concealer?” he asked. He was full of questions.

“To look more awake. You can also use it to highlight different features of your face.”

“And now you have to find something even lighter to highlight me?”

I sighed. “Yup.”

I took my time on his face. The warm colors I used really accentuated his blue eyes, and I grew slightly envious of his long eyelashes. Due to that, and the fact that his eyes were ridiculously sensitive, I had to skip out on false lashes. Then, I added bronzer, blush, and highlighter to his face, making his cheeks stand out and chiseling out his features.

“Can you make something of those caterpillars?” he asked when it came to doing his eyebrows.

Are you questioning my skills?” I asked in response.

“No, never! You’re the master here!”

It wasn’t the easiest task, but I did it. Wish I could say that about my anxiety.

I finished off the look with a dark berry lip. It was a little bizarre to see Jack with a full face of makeup, but he looked incredible, and I was very satisfied with the result.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed when he looked in the mirror. His mouth was open in shock, and he was moving his head around so different parts of his face caught the light. “This is so weird…”

“Does it look good, though?” I asked.

“Of course! I’ve never looked better!” he said, posing dramatically, pouting his lips as he looked at his reflection. Then he went off to take a bunch of selfies.

I wasn’t sure if he let me use his face as a distraction or if he genuinely liked what I did. Either way, it got my creative juices flowing, and I really wanted to film a bunch of videos at once. I took out my phone and jotted down some ideas in my notes, hoping that this sudden spark of creativity would last long enough.

“Hey, do you wanna help me make a video sometime?” I asked as I followed his path out to the living room.

“We could do it now, if you want,” he replied as he snapped more photos of himself.

“I’d like to now, but I don’t have the proper materials.” I leaned against the doorway, still looking down at my phone. I hit the home button and was brought back to my main screen. My wallpaper was a picture of Perrie Edwards, and it suddenly rang a bell in my head.

Jack and I were at The Tube, tipsy and giggly as ever. I remembered us bouncing simultaneously in our seats to the music playing. I knew it was a Little Mix song, I just couldn’t put my finger on it.

“Hey, do you remember what song was playing at The Tube that one time?” I asked. “Do you remember at all how it went?”

“He was just a dick and I knew it!” Jack sang without missing a beat.

“Hair!” I exclaimed, finally clicking with it. “I remember! Mark fucking hates that song!”

“Yeah, you were telling me about it until he picked us up!”

I giggled but suddenly froze when we heard a knock on the door. However, I inhaled deeply and turned on my heel to go answer it. This was something I didn’t typically do. If I got a package in the mail, I waited until the mailman was gone. If it was any friend or acquaintance, or even Mark, they would have to text me when they’re at the door. But I just opened the door with very little hesitation. Luckily, it was Mark, Matt, and Ryan. They each were carrying a rather large box with three different cosmetic brand names on them.

“You answered the door!” Mark pointed out, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I know right!” I replied.

“You got some packages sent to my house,” he explained, holding up the box he was holding. “Thought that would boost your morale, so we brought them over. And there’s more in the car.”

I moved to the side so the three of them could enter. They went to the living room and placed the boxes on the coffee table. Jack was standing in front of the sliding door, and he dramatically turned to face the boys, placing his hands on his hips.

“Hi boys!” he greeted flamboyantly.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?” Matt asked him in shock.

“What did you do?” Mark asked me.

“I was sad, so he let me put makeup on him,” I replied simply.

“And now I look beautiful!” Jack exclaimed as Ryan said “Gay!” over him.

I resisted rolling my eyes as he went to get the rest of the boxes. Then I sat down on the couch and gazed at the ones on the table. High end companies knew who I was? How?

“Why did they send these?” I wondered, completely blown away.

“‘Cause you’re great,” Mark said as he sat down next to me.

Again, I resisted rolling my eyes as I opened up the first bright pink box. There were several eyebrow pencils and gels in pretty silver packaging. The next box was black and inside were several shades of foundation and concealer, which was perfect for one of my video ideas. The last box was white and had an assortment of liquid lipsticks, eyeliners, and eyeshadows. I kept my excited squealing to a minimum so as to not seem ridiculous in front of the guys.

“I have no idea where to start,” I said, “but I’m gonna need volunteers.”

“Nope!” Matt quickly snapped as he dashed into the kitchen.

“He’s going first,” Mark reassured.

Needless to say, I felt better once I was surrounded by makeup and my boyfriend. I was happy that Jack was happy with his new look, and even more that he posted about it on Instagram. I even snagged my own photos of him and explained the details on my profile.

That pretty much marked the end of my little depressive episode. I explained it all to my therapist, and she continued to help me with coping. I was still a loner, having only Jack as my one true friend besides Mark. I was just learning to be okay with it. As long as you have one friend, you should be okay. As long as I had those two guys in my life, I felt like I had a shot at being okay again. I was hoping that I could get through this.

Hoping. I had hoped...

______

next chapter

[madeofpurestarlight]

If This Was A Movie, VI

// While Effie Trinket is Hollywood’s darling and all her dreams seem to be finally coming true, Haymitch Abernathy is drinking himself into an early grave and shuts the world out completely. However, Plutarch Heavensbee decides it’s time for his comeback. The two main stars can’t stand each other and tension builds up soon, but as they dive in deep into this project, somewhere between shooting love scenes, fighting on-set, fighting off-set, opening up hesitantly and helping their younger colleagues deal with everything this world brings, they grow closer and closer, until one day they realize they’re not pretending anymore. | Hayffie Actors AU //

“FIRST TIME AGAIN”

i.

April, Venice

“Here you are!” Plutarch’s cheeks were red when he saw Haymitch stumbling to the set from the make-up trailer with a creased screenplay in one hand and a leather jacket in another, hoping he didn’t look half as terrible as he did when he saw himself in the mirror that morning. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay.“ Haymitch waved it off with the screenplay and looked around. Everybody was already in their places, discussing something with each other, trying different angles and reviewing their technical storyboards. The set was bounded by black tape, and despite the team doing their best finding the least bustling location and Coin making a deal with the mayor and the police about reserving the place for a few days, there were some people curiously watching them from the passing boats or from the opposite streets.

Then he saw her, she was sitting in her chair with the script open in her lap and a mug of coffee in the throes of her pale fingers with insanely long red-painted nails. “Effie said you were… sick yesterday.” Haymitch looked Plutarch in his hard, pale eyes that weren’t buying that story for anything.

“Yeah,” he humored carefully, “ate something bad.”

Plutarch nodded, as if to himself, with a strange look on his permanently worried face. “Are you sure you can do this today?”

“Totally.” It didn’t sound very convincing, but it was enough for Plutarch who just quickly patted his back, too worried about his shooting schedule with Fulvia Cardew tapping at her expensive watch impatiently.

"Fine,” Plutarch said and left him standing there to give orders to the technical team.

Haymitch’s eyes met Effie’s. When he caught her gaze, her features hardened and she put her stuff on the side table by her chair, got up and walked up to him with an intimidating look on her face.

“Not now,” he grunted, already knowing very well what was about to come.

“Yes, now,” she snapped. A few extras have looked in her direction, but she ignored them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Can you turn the volume down, please? My head’s gonna fucking explode.”

“How about a thank you?”

“How about fucking off?”

“Haymitch, Effie,” Plutarch shouted, “you’re in Venice, get in the gondola!”

“We’re having a talk later,” she promised him in a hiss and walked angrily towards the wharf.

He watched her retreat with a growing headache and once more silently cursed her. The events of yesterday were strangely blurry. The last thing he properly remembered was jumping into the water for her… and then nothing except for dreams that were on the border of reality and fantasies that his delirious imagination was producing, and scents that he wasn’t familiar with and voices that he kind of sort of knew. It was confusing, but the note he had found beneath a bowl of cold soup on his nightstand both scared him and partly cleared things up.

He thought he wouldn’t be able to face anyone this morning, but that was mentioned on the note as well, in Effie’s right-tilted, elegant, curly handwriting – that if he’s not on the set by eight, showered, ready and with the script perfectly memorized, he was going to “regret it”.

The only thing he was currently genuinely regretting was not sending her to hell a little more vigorously when he first faced her in the New York hotel room back then.

He followed her steps, determined to get through with this as quickly as possible, and reluctantly accepted the gondolier’s help into the boat, ashamed of the way his fingers were trembling when he held his hand up in front of him. Him and Effie then found themselves in front of each other in the gondola, in a position they didn’t get to yesterday, frowning at each other while the technicians were adjusting the mics and cameras. Cressida was already in a boat next to them, and nodded in greetings while struggling with her camera’s lighting.

Plutarch walked up to them and crouched down with a conciliatory expression and the onset of an unappreciated pep talk.

“Haymitch, Effie,” he started calmly, placing a hand on each’s shoulder, “you are two adults. You have both been adults for some time now-“

“He’s implying you’re old,” Haymitch whispered to Effie and guaranteed himself a kick in the shin.

“-so I expect you to be acting like ones,” the director finished his sentence in a defeated sigh. “I don’t know what it is with everyone here. What have you done to each other except that he had accidentally pushed you off this damn boat?” he frowned at Effie and then looked at Haymitch. “And what is it with Katniss and Peeta?”

“What’s with them?” Haymitch furrowed his brows in sudden concern.

“I don’t know if they got these mannerisms from you two, but they’re refusing to spend time together after shooting,” Plutarch complained and made it sound like something equal to a tsunami wave in Kansas or meeting little green people with huge eyes on your midnight journey to the bathroom.

They have been here for two days, so, if Katniss and Peeta weren’t exactly friendly, well, Plutarch may have acted like he knew all about teenagers, but he had little sympathy for their motives. They were sixteen, barely knew each other and were forced to spend a lot of time together. No wonder they weren’t exactly thrilled to have sleepovers in their hotel rooms and take selfies in front of every historical building in Venice or whatever kids their age did these days.

“They’re just tired, Plutarch,” he reassured the director.

“I really hope so.” Plutarch put his hands on his knees and got up with a pained moan. “My back, okay- everybody knows what to do? Everyone is ready? Cressida?”

The woman with a green tattoo on the left side of her head that embraced her shaved skull like a nest of vipers pouted her dark-purple lips when she looked into the camera. “I don’t know. We could use better lightning.”

“I’m certainly not putting this off again,” Plutarch promised to everyone angrily and shot the two unhappy stars in the gondola one last warning look before rushing to have a look at what her camera was shooting on a small display by his seat. “What do you mean? It’s perfectly fine!” he shouted even though nobody would have trouble hearing him from his spot six yards away.

“You are right, we can always work on it in post-production,” Cressida rolled her eyes and looked at the other two cameramen, Pollux, who was in a boat behind them, and Castor, who was walking on the shore with a camera on a carriage. “You ready, guys?”

Plutarch waited for their raised thumbs and started briefly discussing something with Fulvia.

“He was right,” Effie said silently so the mics above them wouldn’t fully catch it, “we are professionals. We need to act as such. So-“

“Second take! Lights!”

“I have no problem with that,” Haymitch replied coldly, “you’re the one acting like a spoiled little brat.”

“Camera!”

“I hope you at least bothered to brush your teeth today, you drunk, immature-“

“Action!”

ii.

 34. VENICE – EXT. / DAY

 JACK and LORELAI are sitting opposite each other in a gondola. They are in the middle of a conversation.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              I never thought we’d be here again someday.

                                                                                JACK

(reaches out to caress her face)

                                              Me too… it’s been too long.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              Do you remember the first time we came here?

                                                                                JACK

                                                              (smiles)

                                              Yeah.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (looks at her wedding ring)

                                              I haven’t taken it off in nineteen years.

                                                                                JACK

                                              I know it’s hard, but… we’re here now. We’re together.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              You are right.

                                                              (looks around)

                                              So, the Doge’s Palace…

                                                                                JACK

                                              Really? Again?

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (giggles)

                                              Come on.

                                                                                JACK

                                              Who am I, your guide?

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              My everything.

                                                                                JACK

                                              Aren’t we a little too old for this?

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              We are never too old for this.

                                                                                JACK

                                                              (sighs, rolls eyes)

                                              Lori…

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              Sorry. I just… I still can’t believe it.

                                                                                JACK

                                              There’s a lot of things we have to talk through.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              Jack…

                                                                                JACK

                                              You’re married, Lorelai.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              And yet, I’m here with you.

                                                                                JACK

                                              And it’s wrong.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              And we’re happy. We’re fine.

                                                                                JACK

                                              I’m not denying that.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              So what is your problem? What is your point?

                                              We need to talk things trough. We need to come to an arrangement.

                                              I do see a point in this, I think it’s worth it. You don’t?

                                                                                JACK

                                              I do. But it feels wrong.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              I have been waiting for this for nineteen years. I have been

                                              waiting for you for nineteen years. I’m not going to give this

                                              up again just because you think that it feels wrong. Why would

                                              you be here if you thought that it wasn’t worth it?

                                                                                JACK

                                                              (hesitates)

                                              Lori…

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (waves it off)

                                              Jack, let’s just enjoy that we’re here again, okay? We’re

                                              together. We’ve got three more weeks ahead of us.

                                              Let’s not spoil it.

                                                              (pauses)

                                              Let’s just try to enjoy it. We will see.

                                                                                JACK

                                              I wanna be with you. It would just be easier if I knew

                                              that it’s real.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                              What makes you think that it isn’t?

                                                                               JACK

                                              Because you’re not just mine anymore.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (leans in)

                                              I missed you so much.

                                                                                JACK

                                                              (cups her cheek, leans in as well)

                                              So did I.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (whispers)

                                              Would you feel bad about kissing me, too?

                                                                                JACK

                                              I really should.

 Lorelai kisses Jack.

                                                                                JACK (cont.)

                                              But I don’t.

 They start making out.

                                                                                LORELAI

                                                              (moves away slightly)

                                              Neither do I.

                                                                                                                                                              CUT

 iii.

 “Stop!”

Plutarch’s face was lit up with genuine excitement when he rushed to the spot that the gondola has stopped at, and was breathing a little too heavily when he finally got there. He looked on the verge of a heart attack, but also finally content.

“That was amazing!” he exclaimed.

Neither Haymitch or Effie managed to answer. They were still sitting uncomfortably close to each other; so close they could still smell each other’s scent, so close they could still feel their warmth. She was the one to move away first, the early morning sun playing with the color of her orbs and giving them various tones of blue, and smiled at Plutarch. It was a mindless gesture and he realized he felt a little stuck himself.

“You have excellent chemistry,” Plutarch carried on with his praise, looking as if he was about to burst, “I’m proud of you both. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint. So, let’s have it one more time.”

Haymitch noticed the emotions that splashed over Effie’s face and couldn’t help but take it personally when she railed at that idea. “I don’t think that’s necessary-“

“Effie,” Plutarch cut her off, still in good spirits, but the initial irritation creeping back into his voice, “that is up to me to decide, and I think that we should get one more take.”

“Why?” Haymitch gifted Effie with a shady look to which she only reacted by pursing her lips. He could still taste them on his own when he spoke. “I think it was fine, wasn’t it, Cressida?”

“It was great,” the camerawoman agreed and decently lowered her voice, “but if Plutarch thinks it’s for the best to try it again, just go along with it, okay?”

Him and Effie exchanged uncomfortable looks before giving up. “Fine.”

“Just one more time,” Plutarch promised and hurried back to his chair.

Effie sighed and Haymitch couldn’t help the annoyance that was slowly taking over him again. “Not now,” he pointed at the mics over them that were still on.

“So when?” she hissed.

“Just fuck it for now, you’re the one preaching about having a job to do all the time. Just let me do it,” he grunted and ran his fingers across the water’s shiny surface. He saw her scowl and couldn’t help but chuckle at her expression. “Does that bring back bad memories, huh?” he sprinkled the water at her, which resulted in a high-pitched scream that might give one the impression that he was attempting to drown her.

“You are so… stupid,” she spat desperately while wiping her blouse furiously.

“That’s that? Stupid? You got nothing better?” he rolled his eyes.

Plutarch’s voice stopped their banter once more. “Can you just save this for later? We need to work. Everyone ready? No grudges overshadowing your perfect performances? Awesome! Lights… camera… action!”

iv.

After the last flap, they got out of the boat, without either of them having an unasked-for bath, and to their great annoyance headed in the same direction – to the chairs to pick up their things and then to the make-up trailer to take it all off them again. They were walking side by side, Haymitch’s hands in his pocket, Effie’s arms crossed, and they were quiet and in strange sync when they gathered their stuff and ignored the stares of tourists from the opposite bank.

Effie broke the silence first. “Did you read the note?”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t have bothered to come otherwise.” Effie felt him hesitate when he inhaled with the purpose of adding something else. Not that she was hoping for a proper acknowledgement, because she’d be disappointed, anyway. “You covered up for me. Wouldn’t have expected that.”

"Someone has to be the bigger person,” she informed him haughtily. “I won’t lie, it did anger me, and I still think that you’re absolutely irresponsible, but I’ve already seen that you can do your job if pushed enough. Maybe you just need someone to keep pushing.”

He let his snigger speak for him, but it disappeared when someone pointed a phone at them and tried to snatch a picture. Effie looked at him curiously – she knew that he hated this kind of attention and that it was making him uncomfortable and anxious even, however, this was just another item form the list of things that were going to make all of this nearly impossible and that everyone had initially brushed off. “Why did you do it?”

“It’s none of your business,” he cut her off sternly and seemed surprised when she snatched his sleeve, ignoring the fact that someone might get that exact movement on camera or something like that, to stop him from walking out on her, which, as she realized, they have done after every encounter so far, and she had just decided to put a stop to that. “You got scared?”

Haymitch only prolonged his strides. “I don’t what I should be scared of.“

"Are you drunk right now?”

“I had something.” He stopped and hesitated, then decided there was no point in lying after what happened. “It would come back otherwise.”

She watched him with increasing unrest. “You need to get help.”

He just grunted in refusal. “I don’t want help.”

“You need to do something.” She sighed and crossed her arms over her white blouse again, bad feeling creeping upon her when she remembered what he looked like yesterday. “You were supposed to get sober before coming here. You promised.”

There was another moment of dither on his part. Effie tried hard to catch his eye, and eventually did – grey eyes that she used to admire on posters twenty years ago and that seemed to be the only part of him that hasn’t changed at all, maybe just had more personal tragedies to speak of. It was scary to think about him that way, as though she knew him. She didn’t and right now, she was almost sure she didn’t want to. “It’s hard to do that on your own.”

“But you didn’t have to do it on your own,” she argued, “I’m sure someone would have gladly offered you help.”

Haymitch gave her a peculiar look and started walking again. The group of tourists taking pictures of them has gone its own separate way, but he didn’t seem any more relaxed. “I don’t think so.”

“Well, I am offering you help. I don’t know why but I simply refuse to give up now. We have no time to get you fully sober, and it would be dangerous without a medical assistance, but-“

“Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Gradual reducing of everyday intake,” Effie blurted out, ready to name other possibilities that she didn’t even know of.

“Trinket… that’s what I’ve been trying. It doesn’t work. It’s always either too much or too little.” He shook his head again, a gesture he seemed to use every time he wanted to make someone feel inferior, but the joke was on him. It was very hard to make Effie Trinket feel inferior. Even if you were Haymitch Abernathy. “Why am I even talking to you.”

“Because Peeta and I have very likely saved your life yesterday,” she reminded him bluntly. They have finally reached the make-up trailer and she stopped him in his tracks again.

He turned to her with aggravation engraved in his features. Under the powder and corrector, he must have, for sure, looked completely worn-out. His eyes made it obvious. “It was nothing, it’s happened a thousand times before.”

“That’s sort of sad.”

“Thank the boy for me when you see him, though.”

He walked up the stairs to the trailer and wrestled with the handle before pushing it open with brute strength. Effie gripped the railing for stability in her high heels and slowly followed him, pouting in expectation.

“And what about me?”

“I bet that’s your most frequently used phrase, isn’t it.” He turned to her when she closed the door. They were alone in the trailer, or so it seemed. There were four vanities with make-up removers and cotton facial wipes, one full wall of lockers with make-up that had pictures of each actor on them for the make-up team to know what to use on who, and shelves with wigs with names by them, several pieces of each in various shapes and styles. There were usually bright fluorescent lights on at all times, but now the blinds were drawn and the trailer was dim. “We’re squared. I saved you and you helped me.”

“You didn’t save me-“

“Sure.” He walked up to one of the vanities and pulled out the chair for himself. “Are you gonna stare at me?”

“No,” she rolled her eyes, manners be damned. She didn’t know what it was about him that made him so annoying for her, but he was definitely bringing the worst out of her. He made her want to scream and cry at the same time, but she was slowly realizing that he was doing for the fun of it. He knew that he was annoying her, and kept on purposefully doing it. She came closer and measured him properly. This could be even fun. “Ladies first.”

“In your world,” he shrugged and attempted to sit down, but then she did something she had never done before, and that she had no idea what kind of reaction it might bring. She pulled the chair away from the trajectory his sitting-down movement, and he landed on the floor with a curse and the look of an utter shock on his face. “What the-“

Effie pouted again, then let a mischievous smile crack her lips. As embarrassing and childish as it was, she felt good about it. “That, my dear,” she said, placed one hand on her hip and showed him the door with the other, “is how it works in my world if you don’t listen to me.”

Haymitch got up clumsily and moved closer to her violently. So close she was afraid he was either going to kiss her or hit her, but she didn’t take half a step back nevertheless. In the end, he did neither. He just looked at her like he was seriously considering these two possibilities and then decided that he’d be better off letting her win this time. Or that was what she saw in his eyes.

Without a word, he walked out and smashed the door like a moody teenager getting told he was grounded.

And Effie decided that she hasn’t won until they’d be able to end a discussion without one of them running away as if it was the only thing keeping them from killing each other.

Which it most likely was.

v.

 May, Venice

 To put it plainly, Haymitch’s life could have been simple. Simple and maybe even peaceful. He could have lived it out the way he had planned. He’d stay in his house, he’d read the same old books he had already read countless times before, he’d open new bottles each day, maybe, one day, he’d open them a little less frequently, and on Chaff’s insistence, he might go out from time to time. Otherwise, it would just be quiet and calm.

…and then God said: let’s get Effie Trinket into Haymitch Abernathy’s way.

Their mutual relationships didn’t even have time to fall beneath the freezing point after the little wet accident, but they didn’t dramatically improve after his little drunken escapade, either. They were just as annoyed with each other as before, though it had the aftertaste of debt now.

He was slowly becoming used to her weird quirks. He didn’t know it she had always been that way or if it was just due to all the stress she was apparently going through lately, but she was far from stable. She was easily irritable, very defensive, and he often caught her looking around in anxiety or doing some weird breathing exercises. Not that he cared, of course. He never said anything, he didn’t ask, partly because he didn’t need to hear her whole heartbreaking life story, partly because she wouldn’t have told him anyway, just like he wouldn’t have told her, but he did notice it despite the limited time they have spent together so far. It didn’t exactly worry him, he didn’t feel that fond of her, but it did concern him. He wondered if Plutarch knew.

Katniss Everdeen was a strange creature, but at least she wasn’t annoying. Her tension with Peeta was palpable. It wasn’t nice and he wondered what happened between the two of them that made them so hostile around each other - well, what made Katniss hostile, that was right, because Peeta wasn’t hostile at all. He was incredibly sweet toward her and she was either blind to every sign of affection or purposefully ignored his attempts at getting closer to her.

Overall, Katniss was difficult to deal with at times. She was stubborn to the point when it wasn’t funny anymore and wasn’t exactly the friendliest person you could come across. He’d seen her acting and he wondered what she was even doing here. She apparently wondered about that, too. There was no doubt that there was something to her - she wasn’t some tremendous talent, but she did have some sort of charisma. It was the vibe she gave off - a small town girl who started acting to make some money for her family and accidentally became famous in the process. It reminded him of himself, and the similarity in their backgrounds was what made them strangely compatible. They spent most of their time together in silence or making snarky remarks on other people’s account, and they were totally fine with it.

Peeta was nice. Maybe too nice, but he could stand his ground, too. He could do amazing things even if he was given very little to work with and compensated for Katniss’ grouchiness. He told Haymitch that he was planning on moving to New York after the shooting. He also liked baking and once brought some goods on set. And he could draw nicely, too - Haymitch learned that when he saw the quick sketch Peeta made for one scene’s layout when Plutarch and Cressida couldn’t quite settle on one camera angle.

Johanna and Finnick were old friends who have already starred beside each other in some comedy series and were therefore very close. They were very friendly as well. Well, maybe friendly only applied to Finnick. He was well-mannered, California guy with a cheeky whitened smile and a sense of humor consisting of mocking jabs and gentle sexual innuendos. Johanna’s innuendos weren’t as gentle; she was quite blunt, actually, liked to curse and seemed to hate Effie which gave her some bonus points in his eyes. She was from the small town of Naches in Washington and she once shared during dinner that she could throw axes and that she did for sport when she was a kid. Nobody accepted her offer to have a contest, but they all agreed with her complaints that there weren’t many bars downtown. Her and Finnick went out almost every night.

The remaining cast were extras so far, and the rest of the main cast, like Mags Cohen whom he knew thanks to Plutarch and who he learned was actually Finnick’s godmother, or Cashmere Lottway, about whom Peeta told him that was Effie’s biggest concurrent for the leading role and her well-known rival in general who only got a supporting character out of Plutarch’s indulgence, was supposed to come after Cannes, by the end of May, straight to Florence. Everybody here was obsessed with Cannes. Haymitch didn’t understand it – it was the one festival he had never been to and had no desire experiencing. It looked like no fun – just red carpets, flashing cameras, a lot of wealthy people pretending to be movie experts. Nothing for him.

Most of the scenes they were supposed to shoot here were centered around Katniss and Peeta, because Venice was the place of their characters’ honeymoon, which gave the others a lot of free time that there was no gripping way to kill.

Haymitch spent his days in his hotel room, reading, occasionally taking a swig from his flask and trying to not give into the urge to go to the nearest shop and buy all the liquor he could get his hands on. He wasn’t in withdrawal thanks to the small doses of alcohol he did get into his system daily, though.

And that was another aspect of this all.

True to his nature, Haymitch preferred to stay low-key most of the time and didn’t really talk to anyone here. But the trips from his room to the cafeteria or the moments before a rehearsal gave away the fact that his drinking was no secret and people, not from the main cast, but some of the crew and extras didn’t even bother to lower their voices or make sure that their staring wasn’t embarrassingly obvious. He was on the verge of yelling at them to mind their own business more than once.

Ever since Haymitch talked to Hazelle, neither of them contacted each other. There was no reason to. She was probably just as pissed as she was disappointed, and he had enough of his own problems. He had brief thoughts about visiting Seam before going away, but then second-guessed it and for a good reason. The fact that his face was on every news stand and the groundbreaking fact that Haymitch Abernathy has finally been cracked and went back to acting wasn’t contributing to making it a good idea, either.

Coin came on the second day and was, of course, displeased with everything. In her dully grey pant suit and a BlackBerry in her hand at all times, she was wandering around the set with an unreadable expression on her face, occasionally telling someone that they were doing their job wrong, and, if she was in an extra talkative humor, she’d also explain to them why they were doing it wrong. Haymitch was glad that he didn’t have to get back to the set for a few days.

Effie was spending a lot of time by the hotel pool – he saw her there every morning going for a swim, then having fruit salad for breakfast and lying with a magazine or a book on the sunbed. She was annoying and dead-set on getting him to dance as she whistles, but at least, from a respectful distance and the safety of his room’s balcony where he couldn’t hear her complaints and didn’t have to listen to her insults, it was nice to get to at least look at her, because she truly was beautiful, if a little too plastic for his taste, and the fact that there was a lot of touching ahead of them wasn’t helpful.

And then there was a surprise on the break of April and May, totally unplanned, and kind of concerning.

“Chaff?” Haymitch was just on his way from the cafeteria back to his room when he spotted his friend in the empty lobby with a suitcase by his side, talking to a receptionist. When he heard his voice, he told the receptionist to hold on for a second and walked up to him, throwing his arms around him. “Hey, hey, paws off, what are you doing here-“

“You’re an idiot,” Chaff told him simply when he pulled back. His round, dark eyes were scanning Haymitch like a lie-detector. “Trinket called me.”

“She didn’t,” Haymitch growled and looked back over his shoulder. She was sitting in the cafeteria with Finnick and Johanna, with whom she was in some heated discussion. Only a few days were enough to learn that she was incredibly argumentative and also had no idea what self-deprecating humor means, therefore there was no way she was ever going to get along with the younger woman. “When-“

Chaff shook his head empathically. “I know everything, and again – you’re an��idiot. I told you not to play with this, to be careful-“

“I was careful,” Haymitch hissed, “I just… need to balance it.”

“I’m gonna balance you, don’t worry,” Chaff frowned at him.

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Apparently, you do, and since Trinket has proven herself to be no good at it, I’m here. I’m coming,” he raised his voice toward the annoyed receptionist who was still waiting there with a phone in her hand. He looked back at Haymitch and flashed him a smug smile. “That’s not the welcome I was expecting, though.”

Haymitch’s life could have been simple.

But it wasn’t meant to be.