#berlin spin off

[marinagail]

Oh god.

I'm excited for BERLIN.

But THIS...

No way they try to make DAMIAN el professor 0.2.

The way he dressed and acted like Sergio. It's the one that made me so cringe.

Not trying to judge, but Bruce and Keila??? Kelia smelling bruce?? I mean,

I'm not trying to judge, i'm not trying to complain so much, but please, you have so many fans here that is excited for this... But THIS... Lol

Don't make me loose hope here.

[bleulone]

KEILA and BRUCE in 1.02 Anchor and Lobo | BERLÍN (2023-)

+ the wink™

[imogenkol]

Laura Berlin as Queen Emma of Normandy in Vikings: Valhalla season 3

[blorbosexterminator]

Raquel and Alicia would be in the berlin spin off? What do you think of that? What possible plot line that could have fit in with them?

This simultaneously came as the biggest surprise related to the spin-off possible and also completely unsurprising LMFAO. A few weeks ago, @roccinan and I were joking about this exact same thing and went if 'what if instead of everyone else, Alex Pina gets Itizar to play Raquel in the spin-off, wouldn't that be insane?' And as always, the conversation took so many different turns and twists and we joked about everything but I think we both concluded that it actually wouldn't be that insane and that it's HIGHLY plausible if he did want to do it. Because Raquel is a major policewoman/detective in Madrid and it would actually be very interesting if we watched her rise as a policewoman in parallel to Andrés rise as a thief; they are both young and still haven't made that formidable name but they are incredible at what they do and show this potential and as a viewer knowing how they end up it would be very cool. And the other thing we talked about would if basically Raquel is just running around the city always constantly 'nearly' catching Andrés but he always slips out of her finger at the last moment and maybe she doesn't know 'who' exactly she's looking for, and maybe she does.

What I want to say is, they are many scenarios they could fit in because it's not at all weird that a major policeman like Raquel would be working on a major heist case in Madrid. And putting Alicia in too, makes a lot of sense because they graduated together and it's very likely they worked together on some cases, and also very cool because their dynamic obviously have a lot of fans. And it's basically two spin-offs in one: one based on Berlin and his rise, and one based on Raquel's younger years in the force.

That's on one hand, on the other, it was a genius marketing trick by Pina because he's basically ensuring at least 80% of the original audience will watch the spin-off now. Either because they genuienly just love Raquel (which most general audience and also fandom do), or now they will be waiting for any 'prequel' thoughts on serquel (and the serquel fandom is hugel), or for Alicia, the s3 villain that gained a huge amount of fans.

Bottomline is, I think it's something that is making me way more excited for the show (and I already was) and will have the same effect on many other people. And I think it promises that the show will be pretty fun, playful, and paying homage to the original show. So overall, a good move (they obviously can ruin it in the show itself, but until now, it seems very promising to me); I can imagine a lot of storylines that can organically involve Raquel and Alicia, and on a marketing level, I think it's genius to ensure the show is watched by enough people to get a second season, which I believe what Pina wants and is planing for.

[sweetestberryofthebunch]

Scars On My Mind (Agatha Harkness x Reader)

Ever heard of the Daughters of Liberty? When Agatha appears at your doorstep covered in blood with a knitting needle peeking out of her elbow, you certainly wish you hadn’t. Here’s how it went.

Content/Warnings: WitchKiller!Agatha, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Injury, So Much Blood, Open Wound, Angst, Mild Mentions of NSFW Content, no beta we die like the Daughters of Liberty

This fic is a gift for @marril96 who made a gifset for me in return! Ily, let's swap again! It was so so so much fun to dive a little deeper into Agatha’s Witch Killer days with this, and make her a little vulnerable for once!

The rain started on Thursday night and hadn’t stopped since. A continuous drumming against your window, the world outside tainted a muddy grey. It was the earliest hours of Saturday now, Friday had passed silently without you noticing, the continuous waterfalls of raindrops on the windows not letting up to let the days pass either. The vinyl player kept playing as Friday had slipped into Saturday too, the kettle kept simmering as you prepared a boiling cup of Agatha‘s favourite tea blend. Even as the days drifted away, the world kept going. Boiling hot water turned into lukewarm turned into cold, the vinyl finished playing, spinning to a halt. The rain kept thrumming.

You sighed, leaning back on the couch, eyes fluttering shut. Agatha was late, like, even later than usually. And you were tired, sleep tugging at your bones with gradually more and more urgency.

But it was useless to go to bed, no matter how often she insisted you shan’t wait for her. You wouldn’t find much sleep anyway. Not on nights like this. When Agatha was out with other witches, when she set out to … feed? Kill? Siphon?

Well, it was hard to find any rest while she was out there like that.

She may have laughed when you’d admitted to that, throwing her leather jacket over her shoulders before pulling you into a quick kiss by your neck.

„There’s nothing to worry about, darling. I do this all the time.“

But still, as the front door to your little nyc apartment swung open and she sauntered out, chirping a „See you tonight, honey!“, over her shoulder at you, the pit in your stomach remained. The ghost of her palm on the back of your neck remained.

You sighed, taking a sip of the cold tea you’d prepared. If she wasn’t coming home in time, you certainly wouldn’t let the water go to waste.

They’d just raised the prizes for utilities on you. And while Agatha had just laughed and mentioned some inactive bank account she had in Germany that she‘d simply pull from, you couldn’t help but stress about it.

It wasn’t that you didn‘t trust her, so far every time she’d mentioned some savings from one of her many, many lives it had always been true. But just because she was an undying, centuries old witch who didn’t have to concern herself with mundane things like paying bills didn’t mean you could just shake those things off the same.

You had no magick, but you did have your name on a lease. But so far, she’d always made it work somehow, whether that be with her old account of when she lived right beside the Berlin Wall ten years ago or by selling a quick spell or curse to some unassuming person desperate enough to pay for one. You weren’t even sure if she actually performed real spells all of the time. Your Agatha was a scam artist through and through, but you wouldn’t have her any other way.

You took another sip of tea, watching the rain pour down the window. Sometimes, you wondered how many more of you there had been. Agatha was good at dodging those questions, but one night, when you wouldn’t let off even after she’d made you come undone multiple times on the couch, she’d handed you a little cardboard box.

„I try not to be traceable and I can’t exactly show you baby pictures, but some stuff just sticks.“

The contents of the box were fragile, some paper so frail you barely wanted to touch it. Little notes, handwritten poems, a few pages torn out of books. A pencil sketch of the bunny that lived in a cage beside your bed, that she always made sure to drape a blanket over before going down on you. An ink sketch of her, without the worry lines on her forehead or the little wrinkles around her eyes. But, as always, with the amulet she never took off her body.

A few photographs. Black and white on flimsy film paper, Agatha in a flapper dress, feather in her hair and a cigarillo between her lips, legs spread as she leaned back on a barstool. Agatha in the same dress, smiling over her shoulder at the camera, a dark skinned woman in a matching dress sitting beside her, raising her champagne flute at the camera.

Jenny Kale, you knew from her stories, the most brilliant potions maker Agatha had ever met. And the most annoying one. They‘d fallen off, you assumed it had something to do with Agatha‘s habit of power grabbing.

But, there was also a Polaroid.

A Polaroid that lay on the coffee table in front of you now.

A Polaroid that had not left your mind since you’d found it.

Agatha with a wild, unkempt perm and uneven bangs, black liner smudged around her eyes, in a black tank top, arm stretched out to take the picture. But, what actually caught your eye was the arm wrapped around her waist, tight enough to bunch up the fabric of her shirt, revealing a thin line of pale skin of her lower stomach. The person hugging her was out of frame, all you could see was an arm, and a shoulder pressed into Agatha‘s, and the way the witch seemed to hold back a laugh. The handwriting under the picture was messy, and the black marker had faded over the years.

For my love A.H. 1982 - We can be heroes forever and ever

And then what you‘d assumed was once a heart, but got smudged by someone touching the ink before it had dried.

It was exactly what you‘d been looking for. Proof that there had been people before you. That you weren’t her first lover in the 350 long years of her life. Of course you weren’t, that’d be foolish to assume!

But still, the find had punched a hole into your stomach that had only hollowed out the more you thought about it.

How many other people had she taken a liking to, how many non magickal people had she moved in with, let them sign leases and contracts for her as she ran off to suck the magic out of the local witch community of wherever she found herself? How long had this been going on? How long until she’d move on?

Sure, you were young now, but other than her, the clock was ticking for you. Would you just wake up one day and find her gone? And would she bother to keep your picture? And, even if all of this was nothing, why would she hide it from you? She‘d told you about Jennifer Kale, but she‘d never ever mentioned living with someone during her time in Berlin, or any era before that.

You bit your bottom lip, hissing when you tasted the metallic tinge of your own blood.

Did you want to be just another picture in her little box of memories? Did she even deem you worth remembering?

It was stupid to think like that, and you knew that, but it was harder not to let the uncertainty consume you.

But, you were smart enough never to ask her about it directly. Your wild, fierce, unapologetic witch. You loved her, you had realised that the moment her eyes met yours for the first time, and you loved everything about the chaos and the magick and the passion that she brought into your life. Maybe that was why the potential answer scared you so much. Better to keep holding onto your belief than to risk knowing you didn’t mean as much to her as she did to you. Better to live in the harmony of what you had built with her.

You wish you‘d never asked her about her prior life, had never opened the paper box. Now that you had the Polaroid in hand, it was impossible to put down.

A sound ripped you from your self deprecating thoughts. A faint scratch, just loud enough that you were sure you hadn’t imagined it. Another one. Like a dog scratching at a locked front door … or a key that kept missing the hole it belonged into, and instead kept hitting the rough wood of your door.

You sat up. „Agatha?“

No answer. Fuck.

You knew Agatha had her enemies, it was impossible to live that long without them. Hell, there was a whole coven formed of the daughters of her prior victims, a piece of information you preferred to not think about too much. After all, you saw what she was capable of, saw her cast runes around the entire apartment to keep out evil spirits, the way she glowed after siphoning, the daily use of telekinesis and the occasional prodding your mind - which she swore was to remind you to keep up the mental wards she‘d taught you, and totally not because she enjoyed the image of her that danced around your thoughts since the day you met.

Wards you made sure you had up and intakt now as you grabbed a candelabra on your way towards the front door - the first weapon you‘d spontaneously found.

Another scratch at the door, then a grunt, and a little thud, like something was falling into the wooden frame.

„Agatha?“, you asked again, louder.

Panting, whoever was on the other side of the door was breathing heavily.

Here goes nothing. You bit down on your lower lip, fingers tightening around the candelabra. Twisting the doorknob, you held your weapon high, ready to strike. The wooden door flew open, you held your breath … only to immediately let it go in a loud shriek.

In front of you was in fact Agatha, however, this was not how you had expected her to return. Her shirt was torn and ripped apart, shreds of fabric barely clinging onto her. if you hadn’t known, you would have never guessed it used to be white fabric, for it was covered in mud and dirt and … a worrying amount of blood. There was so much blood. On her clothes, her face, her head. Like someone had dumped a bucket of red over her head. Agatha herself was shaking, her body leaning against the wooden doorframe, the key she was holding in her right hand quivering with every rattling breath she took. Her left arm … your stomach twisted. Her left arm was completely bare, the sleeve ripped away at the seam, and her skin was covered in dark red crusts of dried and fresh blood. It hung useless at her side, and as she shifted from one foot to her other, you saw a single, long piece of hard plastic sticking right out of her elbow.

Your stomach twisted at the sight, and you instinctively had to reach for the wall, not trusting your knees to support your weight right now.

Agatha’s eyes were open wide, blue piercing at you as she panted, a now dried drop of blood had run right between her eyes and down her nose. She looked insane. You felt insane.

And yet, she had the nerve to cock her brows at you. „The candlestick? Seriously? Do you have any idea how much that thing is worth these days?“

Slowly, you dropped your arm, the makeshift weapon sliding out of your grip and tumbling to the floor.

Agatha winced, like that was what really caused her pain right now.

„Agatha!“, you gasped, swallowing hard.

The witch bit her bottom lip, hard, before heaving her own body closer towards the entryway, pushing for you to let her in.

„I got ambushed“, she exclaimed, even though that didn’t explain anything at all, „This little bunch was smarter than they seemed. In theory at least“, she laughed, but it only made her grit her teeth, „All the spells and curses in the world, and they stab me with a fucking knitting needle!“

You gulped. So that was the thing peeking out of her elbow.

Glassy blue eyes found you, her glare bewildered, almost panicked. „Are you done now? I would love it if we could at least move this out of the hallway, before we wake the neighbors!“

Finally, you snapped back into reality. Agatha was injured, badly, and she was also leaving stains of red on your doorframe and the „Welcome Home“ doormat in the hallway. But those were problems for later.

Right now, you needed to get her to safety. You surged forwards, grabbing her by her uninjured shoulder, pulling her right arm around your neck.

„Lean onto me“, you instructed, kicking the candelabra out of your way as you slowly guided her into the apartment.

She was cold to the touch, too cold for your liking, but she still managed to tut at you anyway. „What would you say if i kicked your hairdryer around like that?“

You let the front door fall shut behind you, other arm wrapping around her waist to support her further.

“I would say Thank You Honey for not letting me bleed out on the doormat! but you can practice that later.“

That made her snort, and you felt her entire body wince in pain.

„Stop being funny“, she hissed, her right hand digging into your shoulder as you slowly guided her towards the couch, step by step, „It hurts.“

You finally reached the plush sofa and carefully sat her down. Agatha‘s body collapsed against the cushions with a groan, her head rolling back.

„Hey!“, you snapped your fingers right in front of her face, „Sit up! Don’t you dare faint on me!“

Her eyes fluttered, and you felt panic rise in your chest. Your palms found her cheeks, cupping her face gently as you pulled her head back up, forcing her to look at you. Blue eyes blinked up at you, pupils dilating when they closed in on your face.

„Agatha“, you said, taking a deep breath more to calm yourself than her, „I‘m gonna go grab the first aid kit, but I need you to stay with me, okay? No fainting. Can you curl your fingers for me?“

Her right hand curled into a weak fist with no issues, while her left hand laid beside her uselessly. You swallowed. „Okay, keep doing that. Clench, and unclench, exactly. I‘ll be back in a second.“

She blinked twice, and a small smile found her blood covered, cracked lips. „You’re worried about me“, she drawled deliriously, healthy hand coming up to poke your side. The touch was a lot weaker than you‘d like. „That’s hot.“

You bit down on your tongue. „You’re unbelievable“, you shook your head, making sure her own head was supported by the cushions behind her before letting go, „Keep clenching your fists!“

To your relief, the first aid kit was right under the sink in the bathroom, fully stocked and ready for you. On your way back out, you grabbed a towel as well.

Agatha was still sitting up when you came back, already digging through the first aid kit as you walked, pulling out bandages, alcohol wipes, and the little bottle of superglue you kept in the kit. You sucked your cheeks in, thumb running over the little tag on it. The next fifteen minutes were going to suck.

Glassy blue eyes watched you as you spread out your new findings on the coffee table. Her breath came in heaves, but at least they were even and her chest didn’t quiver with every gush of air that surged through her lungs anymore.

„How are you feeling?“, you asked, needing her to stay awake, stay with you at any costs.

Luckily, she had it back in her to let out a humourless chuckle. „Like shit. Those bitches betrayed me like I didn‘t teach them everything they knew.“

Even as you cut open the plastic baggy holding a bandaid, you had to give her a long look over your shoulder.

„Betraying the witch that was gonna betray them? How dare they.“

Agatha opened her mouth in protest, but then you sat back up on the couch next to her, the cushions she was resting her injured arm on shifting, and instead a high, pained whimper left her throat. The sound rang through your head and you pressed your lips together, carefully positioning her arm so the needle stuck in it was facing you.

„I‘m sorry“, you took a deep breath, „You‘re not gonna like me for the next few minutes, but I need you to stay still for me, okay?“ Your eyes found hers, and you gave her a firm little nod.

„What?“, Agatha's voice was weak, brows creased in confusion, her eyes barely focusing on you. You gave her a soft smile, hand closing around the knitting needle slow and firm. „Look out the window babe“, you softly hummed and Agatha‘s head rolled to the other side, lashes fluttering.

„Don’t turn around“, you said. But of course, she immediately turned back.

“The window Agatha!“, you sighed exasperated, not waiting for her to listen this time.

„Okay, one, two…“ Before you could say the next number, you gritted your teeth. With one firm tug, the knitting needle slid right out of her open wound.

Agatha screamed, flinching under your firm grip, head thrown back against the couch.

The needle made a wet sound as you pulled it out that made your stomach turn. Thick, red liquid was stuck to the plastic as well as fresh blood immediately pooling out of the wound at her elbow.

You quickly pressed the towel onto it, gripping Agatha’s arm tight so she couldn’t pull away, even as she screamed. The whimpers leaving her throat echoed through your bones, and you had to bite down on your cheek harder.

„I‘m sorry baby“, you pressed out, glancing over at her face. Fresh, salty tears ran down her face, parting the dried crusts of blood on her cheeks. She was biting down on her tongue, hard enough to draw blood, holding back her sobs as best as she could.

„Fuck you“, she sobbed weakly, eyes closed shut and you had to chuckle.

„That’s okay. Let it out.“, you hummed, pressing the towel down onto the wound with one hand. The pale blue fabric was quickly soaking up red, and you had to act fast, worried she was going to lose too much blood.

With your free hand you reached for the superglue, the lid already off, clear, stale liquid at the tip.

„I have to do one more thing that you‘re not gonna like“, you said, keeping your grip on her arm tight as she tried to pull away.

„No! Stop! That’s enough!“, she yelped and it took everything in you to stay firm. The wound needed closing, no matter how much it would hurt.

„Agatha!“, you held her tight, giving her a firm stare that held no room for discussion. When you saw the way her bottom lip was quivering despite her pushed forward chin, your voice softened.

“I‘m trying to help you. Just one more thing and you‘re done, I promise.“

Agatha swallowed hard, leaning towards you.

You let her, gently pressing your forehead to hers.

„That was scary“, she murmured, „They were so smart about it. Didn’t blast me once. Instead…“, her shoulders twitched in an attempt to shrug, the sharp pain causing her to wince.

„Instead you came home with a knitting needle in your arm“, you nodded, craning your neck. Your lips brushed over her forehead, the bittersweet mix of mud and blood on your tongue as you pressed a gentle kiss right over the crease she always pulled when she was in pain, but trying to be brave about it.

„This was terrifying, but you’re being so strong“, you leaned back again, enough to look her in the eyes one more time, „Let me close the wound and then it‘ll be over, I promise.“

And she let you.

As you pulled the towel away to inspect the wound closer, Agatha looked the other way, her right hand coming up to her mouth as you pulled the skin together. As you dropped the clear glue down onto the gash, pulling it closed with one hand and handling the bottle of superglue with the other, she let out another blood curdling scream, muffled only by her teeth digging into her own hand. But, it worked. The moment the liquid began to thicken, the bleeding stopped.

It took all the alcohol wipes of the kit to get her arm cleaned up, working quickly and in silence, knowing well not to talk to Agatha as hot tears ran down her cheeks. You made sure to save a wipe for the bite mark on her right hand too, and then once you were positive all of her injuries were cleaned, you finally reached for the bandaids.

By the time she was all patched up and in clean clothes (you‘d thrown her bloody shirt and all towels it had taken to get the muck off her face into the bathtub, a problem for later), the two of your curled up underneath a blanket, her healthy shoulder squeezed up against yours, the sun was coming up.

Finally, it had stopped raining too.

The two of you had shared a can of microwaved ravioli, and slowly but surely, the color was returning to Agatha‘s cheeks. You wrapped your arm tighter around her, nose nuzzling into the crown of her head. Her hair still smelled of metal and cinder, but that didn’t bother you right now. What mattered was that she was still with you, that her body was warm against yours and her breathing even.

The blanket rustled as she shifted in your hold, right hand coming up to rest over yours.

„Now.“, Agatha took a long breath, thumb running over your knuckles as she held your hands in hers. Finally, she seemed fully back to consciousness.

„Tell me why you‘ve been pondering all night instead of sleeping like I told you to.“

„What?“, your brows furrowed, tilting your head to the side in confusion as you glanced down at her.

Agatha nodded towards the coffee table, blue eyes fixed on a specific object scattered between the leftovers of your once organised and stacked first aid kit. „I doubt you‘re using that as a bookmark.“

Between scissors and a piece of bandage you‘d cut off, there was still the Polaroid you‘d taken from the box of her private possessions. Now, there was a single drop of blood on it, right above the black marker writing.

„Oh my god!“, you quickly reached for it, „I‘m so sorry, I‘ll clean that off!“

Before your hand could reach the photo, Agatha‘s unharmed arm lunged forward, hand closing around your wrist. Despite how pale she still looked, she pulled you back to her with no trouble, wrapping the blanket around you two tighter. Injury or not, there was still magick power running through her veins.

„Darling“, her pale eyes found yours, „Look at me.“

You didn’t dare break the eye contact she established, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do right now, ears hot with embarrassment.

„Have you been thinking about that?“ she asked, and you knew exactly what she meant. Her long, long life before you, the nature of your relationship. The only thing on your mind for days now.

„I mean, it‘s stupid!“, you shook your head „It’s naive to think I‘m something special, you’ve had such a long life already,“ you poked her side, „Even though that‘s hard to believe right now.“

Agatha‘s hoarse chuckle made you smile despite everything weighing on your mind.

„I‘m going to stop you right there.“

With her healthy hand, she tried to push herself up, eyes fluttering shut as she groaned in pain. You instinctively reached for her shoulders, helping her sit up and lean against the sofa cushions.

Her hand found your cheek, palm gently cupping your cheek.

„You are something special“, her voice was low and you swallowed hard.

„Do you think I could do this with just anyone? I was just bleeding out on your couch.“ Her eyes found yours, giving you a firm little nod. „Have there been others? Of course. A witches lifespan depends on her powers, and I‘m not exactly the type other witches want around for long. It can get lonely.“ Her lips pursed into a little smirk, brows rising. „But thanks to you, it‘s not. And thanks to you, it won’t end just yet either.“ She chuckled, raising her bandaged elbow with a sharp inhale.

Your hold on her shoulders tightened just the smallest bit, holding her upwards. Her thumb ran over your cheek, and you couldn’t suppress your smile at the touch.

„What I am saying is yes, there have been lovers before you. But that does not diminish your presence in my life, and it does not make you any less special. To be quite honest, you‘re the first person to have pulled a knitting needle out of my elbow.“

She let out a little laugh and soon, you joined in. Agatha‘s hand tugged at the back of your neck, and you willingly let her pull you into a sweet, gentle kiss. Her lips brushed against yours with the familiarity of someone who had practiced plenty, pushing her chin forward into the kiss like she knew you loved her to do, and you let out a little laugh in return, teeth grazing over her bottom lip just the slightest bit. Exactly the way that made her groan, pull you in tighter, kiss you with more and more fervour, until you’d bite down on her plump lip for real.

But not right now. You pulled away before she could coax you into something more, giving the shoulder of her injured arm a gentle tap as you raised your brows at her.

„Not now Agatha! You literally almost died today.“

She let out an exasperated sigh, but then opted to wrap her healthy arm around your waist instead, pulling you closer. „But I didn’t, thanks to you.“

You gave her a warning glare but obliged as she pulled you into her lap, arm wrapped around you and your hands resting on her shoulders. She leaned forward, lips grazing over your neck just enough to make you gasp before nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, a spot she had found she fit perfectly into one time while napping and loved ever since. Your hands found her hair, fingers slowly running through the thick, dark waves falling down her back. She hummed against your neck at the feeling, and you felt your heart swell at the sound. Even if all of this was fleeting, at least right now, you could provide a safe space for her.

You pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of her head, inhaling the faint scent of the lavender oil she liked to brush through her hair.

Even if you were but a fleeting moment in her life, maybe in 10, 20 years she‘d think back to you and miss the way her nose perfectly nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

“I love you, Agatha“, you whispered, so quiet, you could barely hear it yourself, „Try not to get killed while I‘m still around.“

If she heard you, she didn’t answer.

You pulled her even tighter.

[its-time-to-write]

I wrote this in light of the Euros last night. If you don’t know, England lost to Spain and it was absolutely brutal. So for context, this fic takes place post-match in Berlin. (I also knocked this out in forty minutes to distract myself from the fact that I have to rewrite the mafs fic from scratch😭😭)

enjoy.

twentysomethings

The creak in the hotel hall is the only warning you get before there’s a knock on the door. 

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who’s on the other side, so it’s no surprise when you open the door to reveal Jamie Tartt.

“It’s late,” you comment when you see him. You tilt your head. “You alright?”

Jamie doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen. You move aside to let him in and shut the door.

You move to sit on the bed, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “Shit, sorry,” you say. “Didn’t want to change into pajamas when I got home.”

You pull the England kit over your head, leaving your undershirt on. You do your best to conceal the name on the back and toss it on the floor beside the bed.

You’ve known Jamie for years. He was friends with your cousins growing up, so you’d seen him on and off since childhood. You’d ended up dating for a few months, and your parents had been surprised it hadn’t happened sooner.

“He’s been in love with you for ages,” your mum had said.

You had laughed. 

Jamie had done a spectacular job working past your defenses. “I won’t leave you,” he promised. “I love you.”

And you believed him.

You’d sworn off dating after a particularly bad heartbreak, but Jamie was determined.

And who are you kidding, you loved him too. You would have done anything he asked. 

You did. You moved to be with him, figured out how to make your job work remotely, sacrificed just so you could be with him. But he was worth it.

The breakup was a shock, to say the least.

He never could give you a straight answer as to why, and before you knew it you were on a flight back home. 

The rumors started a few days later which was silly, because no one even knew you and Jamie were dating. Or that you knew each other. Or anything.

No, the rumors had nothing to do with you; they just linked his name to a gorgeous blonde model, saying he’d been seeing her for weeks.

That hurt worse than anything else. The evidence was mixed, not terribly reliable, but there was enough of it for you to consider it may contain truth.

He didn’t text, didn’t call. Didn’t try to convince you it was a lie, so you believed it.

Why else would you have ended?

You thought you knew him, thought he wouldn’t cheat. Breaking up and moving on is one thing, but sleeping with someone else while you were together… it was earth-shattering. 

Especially because he knew.

He knew how hard it was for you to trust. He knew what he was doing when he held your hand and kissed your temple.

You did know him, though. He hadn’t been cheating on you, it was just the stupid rumor mill, but you were still broken up so it didn’t fix anything. You still had no explanation.

All this time, and you can tell exactly what he’s thinking. You know exactly why he’s in your room so when you pat the spot on the mattress next to you, he doesn’t have to say anything before he’s on top of you.

He’s pent up, all anger and sadness, but he presses soft kisses along your neck and jaw in a stark contrast.

—

“We should shower,” Jamie says when you’re done. It’s the first thing he’s said that isn’t your name or false promises that he loves you.

“I’m tired,” you say. It’s true; your head’s spinning and if you close your eyes for longer than a minute, you’ll fall asleep.

Jamie makes a face, not quite a grin but certainly not the frown that’s been affixed to his face and says, “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets, yeah?”

You groan and roll out of bed as Jamie rummages through the closet for extra sheets.

“You weren’t with mum and Simon,” he says in the shower later.

“No,” you say, swiping your thumb under his eye.

He’s silent, waiting for you to say more, but you don’t. You’d been in the stands with the general public, as you’d always preferred. Less likely to be noticed that way. 

He says, “You were wearing an England kit.”

You shrug. “Not a real one. Didn’t want to spend £89 on something I’d wear once. Not like anyone can tell.”

“Hm,” he says, turning off the water.

You shiver. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Fuck no,” he says, wrapping first himself and then you in a towel. He looks at you questioningly and you half-nod, resigned to the fact that you’re going to let tonight run its course. 

Jamie picks you up, bridal style, and kisses you as he carries you back to the bed.

“We’re going to have to shower again,” you warn.

“No, you’re going to have to shower again,” he corrects as he kisses your hipbone.

You yawn, and he props himself up to look at you. “I’m sorry, am I boring you?” he teases.

You smile, “You’re the one who came to find me, my love.”

The words roll so easily off your tongue that you won’t realize exactly what you said until later. If Jamie catches it, he doesn’t say anything.

An alarm goes off early in the morning. It’s not yours, you’d set yours for 10:00am. Jamie reaches to turn it off then pulls you close. 

“Gonna sneak back?” you yawn. He buries his face in your neck in response.

“Jamie,” you sigh. “You have to go back.”

He still doesn’t say anything so you wiggle to get face-to-face with him. He’s centimeters away, and you indulge in a moment to study his face. This is the last time you’ll have him in your bed, so you’re allowed to enjoy it.

You ask, “You did well, you know that, right?” but he shrugs and tries to turn his face away.

“Jamie,” you say again, “you did well. I’m so proud of you. You played in the Euros for god’s sake. You were in the starting eleven for the finals! That’s amazing. You made it so far.”

“Not fucking far enough,” he mumbles, and you kick him.

“Don’t be an asshole to yourself. Enough people will do that for you.”

He shrugs again. “You coming back to England?” he asks in an effort to change the subject, and you let him.

Not that this topic will be much easier than England’s loss to Spain.

You shake your head. “Going to Ireland to see the family.”

“Then England?” he asks, but it’s with a false kind of hope. He already knows what’s coming.

“Jamie.” You taste the way his name sounds on your tongue for one of the last times. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’d go anywhere you asked, do anything for you. I’d let you hurt me over and over again, but- it’s just not healthy. You know I love you and I know you love me. But we love other things more. You’ll always choose football over me, and I’ll always choose my job over you. You broke up with me, if you recall, and you never fucking told me why.”

He whispers, “Will you forgive me?” and the way he toys with your hair makes you realize he already knows your answer.

“I was only mad at you that Monday,” you say. “I shouldn’t have called and I shouldn’t have yelled, but that was the only day I’ve ever been mad at you. I’ve already forgiven you.”

There isn’t much more to say after that. Instead of trying to fill the silence Jamie pulls you closer under the covers. You lay there for far too short a time before you say, “We need to get up.”

Unwillingly, Jamie lets you go. He’s still in bed watching you as you begin to change.

“That’s got to be a crime,” he groans as you clasp your bra. 

“Fuck off,” you grin. “You’ll see some again.”

You don’t say, you’ll see mine again, because he won’t. He wipes sleep from his eyes and sits up.

“I don’t want to leave,” he confesses, and you understand.

“This isn’t real life,” you tell him. “Besides, now you get a holiday. It’s going to be okay.”

Jamie sits for a moment longer, then gets up to put on last night’s clothes.

“Mum gave me your room number,” he says when he’s all dressed.

“I figured,” you respond. “She’s the one that invited me.”

Jamie nods. She’d told him the whole thing after the match and he’s glad he hadn’t known you were in the stands.

You say, “Well.”

Jamie says, “Well.”

He crosses the room to pull you into what is arguably the best kiss of your entire life.

“I love you,” he says between kisses. You push him gently toward the door, but he’s still kissing you.

“I love you,” he says again.

“Jamie,” you reply, but you mean the same thing.

He kisses once, twice, three times in the doorway before taking a last long look at your face.

He’s crying again, and it’s worse seeing it in person than it was seeing it at the match.

Something wet slides down your cheeks, and you realize you’re crying too.

“You have to let me go,” you choke out. “I’m so sorry. You have to.”

He nods, gripping your hand.

Jamie presses his forehead to yours one last time. “I love you,” he whispers.

You breathe, I love you too, then he’s gone.

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

Grant was one of Speirs’s best sergeants. The captain was not about to let this man die. After they learned of the incident, Speirs and Lieutenant Jack Foley swerved madly through the country lanes and personally ushered the comatose GI back to base. A disheveled Army doctor greeted them at the aid station, but declared there was nothing he could do to save the sergeant’s life. “Bullshit,” Speirs responded. He and Foley lugged the lifeless Grant back to the jeep and sped off in the direction of Saalfelden—hoping to find a physician of greater use.

Word of the shooting spread like wildfire throughout Easy Company. Earlier that evening, a stone-cold drunk David Webster had collapsed face first onto his bed. He still wore his soiled fatigues when a comrade frantically awakened him. “Get up, Web! For Chrissake, get up!” “Uh-uh,” Webster mumbled as he rolled over. “Grant’s been shot. Go out on the roadblock!” “What?” “A GI shot Grant. The bastard’s loose in town. Captain wants a noncom on the roadblock right away.” Webster did not know Grant well but developed an impulsive urge to hunt the would-be killer responsible. “Web” remembered the sergeant as a “sunny, quiet, golden-haired boy from California.” What sort of paratrooper could commit such a transgression against one of his own? “Everybody up!” shouted an equally enraged Liebgott. “Outside on the double!” Webster’s head was spinning. The burst of action, movement, and adrenaline caused the private to stumble down the stairs. Slinging a bandolier of ammo over his shoulder, the bruised and hungover private darted outside to join his vengeful friends.

Meanwhile, Speirs and Foley discovered a Berlin-trained brain surgeon in Saalfelden. Through hours of tedious work, the doctor achieved a medical miracle and was able to spare Grant’s life. This bout of luck failed to diminish Easy Company’s sudden hatred for Craver.

~ Jared Frederick & Erik Dorr

[ineylesian]

THRASH

SIMON “GHOST” RILEY X READER

AO3 | KINKTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

DEBRIEF | ghost has been avoiding you since your last deployment. you think he’s hiding something.

WARNINGS | smut, handjobs, slight degrading, semi public sex, dom! reader kinda?, smug ghost

WORD COUNT | 1k

THIS WORK IS MEANT TO BE READ IN AN ADULT READER’S POINT OF VIEW. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED.

Finally.

“Where are you going, Riley?”

Your hand encloses around the base of his arm, twisting cruelly as the other spins him your way. Black polyester shifts at your fingertips, and you feel his muscles twitch under the jacket.

Ghost looks down at you, eyes faintly parted in shock. You nearly recoil at the sight. His features are ridden with fatigue— eyeblack smudged carelessly around his lashes, hollowing out sunken eye bags that make it look like he hasn’t slept for days.

You open your mouth to question him, until your knee knocks against the fly of his jeans. Glancing down, you find yourself pressed against the outline of his cock, strained against denim and nearly searing through it.

“Huh.” You smirk, lips painted coy. “Having a rough week, honey?”

Ghost sinks down partially on the wall you have him pinned against. His hood is far gone by the winds, and you’re surprised the cigarette he dropped hasn’t blown away yet. Smile sticking to your face, one of your feet stomps on it, languidly dragging the remains against concrete.

“Thought you wouldn’t notice I wasn’t around.” His voice is low, gravely and thick with impatience because he knows he’s caught. “Guess I’m not the only bad one here.”

There’s a low ambiance from inside, softly buzzing the wall he’s pushed up against. His gaze drifts to the side, fighting the urge to push you off of him and take to the woods.

The night is young, the sun gone some hours ago when you and the rest of the Task Force arrived. Instead of drowning yourself in liquor from your recent success in Berlin, you took to shadows and scathed trees in search of your Lieutenant. He’s aware that you’ve been worried sick about him since you touched down in Germany, and he’s also aware that you no longer care due to the erection pressing against your leg.

Ghost looks back at you, shallow blues swallowed by a forlorn sky.

“Well, you got me right where you want me.”

It’s been a few days, nearly a week since you’ve seen even a shadow of Ghost around. He’s been avoiding you because of something like this? Trying to flip if on you when he’s cornered? Ridiculous.

“Always trying to soften the blow on yourself.” You scoff, fingers looping around the frame of his belt buckle. “You’re pathetic.”

Your hand pulls on the last of the zipper, pushing his belt loop to the side, and tugging his boxers down. Ghost groans, low and savory, his cock nestled against a faded scar on his abdomen. Your hand moves from the band of his underwear, fingers daintily running along the base of his dick.

Mild hums join in with the music from inside, and you hear boots kicking up dust from the exit around the corner. Ghost reaches for your hand, but you’re quick, moving the other to delve under his mask. His lips quiver under the cold press of your hand, and you smile, pressing him further toward the wall.

“Don’t want other people hearing us, yeah?”

He nods, half heartedly, blonde eyelashes shifting under amber lamplight. You hum, smoothing your pointer finger along the tip of his dick. Pre drips against your skin, warm and sticky. Low vibrations hit the hand that covers his mouth as you lather his length in his own mess.

It’s loud, the squelch that joins squawking crows and chilling drafts. Ghost’s breath is warm against your skin, choppy and dripping with saliva as you work his dick. His face drips with sweat, skin warm to the touch despite the winds that roll over it.

“Needed me this bad, huh?” You simper, teasingly squeezing his balls, hung low and heavy. “I wonder what the others would think, not being able to keep your dick in your pants. What’s gotten into you, Riley?”

Riley. He shudders, hips involuntarily bucking toward your hand. You grin, tongue lining your teeth in satisfaction. He was right, you have him exactly where you want him.

“Well,” you release your hand from his mouth, increasing the pace of your strokes as you do so. “Got anything to say?”

Ghost gasps at the release, pooling fogged breaths to the night air, other hand wiping the spit from his chin.

“A little disciplinary action couldn’t hurt.” He sighs, eyes smug and gratified. “Think I’ve learned my lesson, but you can finish your punishment if you’d like.”

You roll your eyes, watching with exasperation as his lips quirk up. He always does find a way to turn things in his favor.

“Dick.”

He hums, quiet and bobbing softly against his adam’s apple. You feel his dick throb in your hold, hot and slick against your palm. Ghost cocks one of his fingers up, motioning for you to let off. Your hand leaves his chest and his neck cranes forward, arm snaking around your waist to hold you against him.

His lips taste as they always do, remnants of war and gunpowder mixing with ashes from his last cigarette. His canines prod at the flesh of your mouth, loosening only when he feels his release nearing.

Through parted lips he moans, low and satiated. You savor every noise, feeling the last waves of ecstasy wash off as warm liquid leaks over your fingers. You part, sloppily wiping his mess of the black of your pants as he tidies himself.

“Cheers, lovie.” He tilts your chin up, the ghost of a smirk disappearing with the rise of his mask. “Won’t go off your radar like that again, yeah?”

[xtarmanderx]

Fuck it Friday

Thanks to @jamieroyjamieroy and @fairytalegonewronga03 for the tags! Here’s another never before mentioned snippet from a fic!

-

Rocker’s phone lights up with an incoming call on his day off. He frowns, wiping his hands on the rag he’s been using while tuning up his car, and glances at the name. Chris A. His brow furrows in puzzlement as he considers why she might be calling him. Just as he reaches for his phone, it lights up again. Incoming call from Commander Hicks. His blood runs cold. He answers it, taking a deep breath to steady himself: “This is Rocker.”

“Donovan.” Commander Hicks begins and Rocker’s knees buckle. He gets himself onto the floor before he can collapse, one palm flat on the ground as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Luca?” He croaks out, his heart hammering in his chest.

“He’s still in Berlin. Rocker…it’s Erika.”

“She…” Rocker starts and stops, swallowing thickly. “How?” He asks, struggling to keep his voice in check.

“GSW to the chest. I just delivered the news to her sister-“

“You should have called me sooner.” Rocker growls, scraping his nails against the rough floor. “I should have-I should have been the one-“

“Rocker,” Hicks says patiently, “you weren’t here.”

“And if I had been, maybe this wouldn’t have happened!” He snaps, anger and sorrow at war in his chest.

“Donovan,” Hicks tries again. He doesn’t want to hear it. He stares down at the line of red staining his garage floor, his nails aching, and feels bile climb up his throat.

“I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up and then empties his stomach next to his classic car, heaving until only acid burns his throat. His phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since he ended the call. When he finally looks at it again, his vision blurs at the sight of Luca’s contact photo. He swipes to ignore the call, swearing as he accidentally accepts the FaceTime request. He can’t see Luca through tears and the angle’s all wrong right now.

“Sweetheart?” Luca asks softly.

“I-I can’t talk about this right now,” he gasps. “Luca, please.”

“Deacon’s on his way to pick you up. We don’t have to talk about it, okay? Just let me stay on the phone with you.”

“I need to get ready. I was tuning up the Mustang.” Rocker tells him, his voice low and scratchy.

“I’m sure you have time for a shower, honey.” Rocker’s phone buzzes with an incoming call from Chris and his breath hitches. “Hey, talk to me. What is it?” Luca asks immediately.

“Chris keeps calling me. I should…” He trails off and sobs, reaching up and wrapping both fists in his hair. “I need you.” He admits, the words breaking as he says them, like the exhale is strong enough to tear through anything. “I should have been there,” he whines.

“Rocker, sweetheart, no one-“

“It should have been me.” He regrets the words as soon as he hears Luca curse, but he’s too busy spinning out to register what the man says next. The next thing he knows, Deacon and Hondo are in his garage and they’re helping him onto his feet.

Low pressure tags: @equallyloyalandlethal, @spiderraeken, @exhaustedpirate, @rubydaiquiri, and @sunnywithachanceofbi and anyone else who wants to do it!

[miz-chase]

I am still thinking about Brennan having to leave the country after her father's trial. She put herself up as a prime suspect, a murderer of the chief of the FBI, and now the whole world knows it. The post-court case press failed to move on. The FBI has to stop using her as a consultant, she's too compromised, too in the public eye.

She moves to Europe, maybe Berlin, taking an intern with her. Takes up a professorship, consults here and there, but mostly only works with historical cases.

A few months later, Booth shows up. He's exhausted, stretched too thin, too broke to really afford the trip and a hotel, but he does it anyway. Shows up in her lab and charms his way in.

At first, she gives him the ice-queen cold shoulder. Threatens to have him thrown out by security. But she never does it, she just unloads on him in frustration then storms off to her office.

He's worried, but only a little. He knows her ebbs and flows. Stands there, chatting with Wendell, spinning a poker chip in his fingers. Eventually, like he knew she would, Brennan reopens the door to her office, stares at him, beckons him in.

They're stiff, awkward, at first, catching up. As words pass, she leans closer, her hand resting on his knee, her head on his shoulder, her arm wrapped around his elbow. Once she latches on, she wont let go.

He knows not to rush her. In her own, sweet time, she finds it in herself to look him directly in the eyes. Parts her lips, tilts up her chin. Somehow now, after all this time away, it seems irrational to not kiss him.

He doesn't end up needing the hotel after all. Pity it's too late to get a refund.

[marinagail]

How Berlin spin off should be.

[bleulone]

BEGOÑA VARGAS as CAMERON in BERLÍN (2023-)

[namfinessed]

in you, i lay - k.sj.

summary: one night was all you needed to come back to him or a story in which love grows where seokjin goes, and you can’t help but follow.

genre: fluff (7.8k)

note: i have my exams soon, so i’ll get back to writing as soon as they are over, i wanted to give you all a little something before that so, i hope, with all my heart, that you guys enjoy this <3

masterlist

three years ago, your trip to berlin changed the entire trajectory of your life.

one day, your life was all black and white and then it burst into so many colors that you couldn’t quite grasp how quickly it changed to look so beautiful.

which is why you decided to come back to berlin. more successful, happy, and filled with life than you have ever been, you came back to live your bright past for one last time and move on to bigger things.

you look out the window as the cab breezes past the beach that held more memories than 23 years of your life, a smile unconsciously grows on your face as you think back on how different just 3 years of your life were.

you wonder how he is.

you never stopped wondering how he is.

the envelope holding your promotion was sat tightly in your hands, you knew he would be happy, ecstatic even, you just knew he would pick you up and spin you around. out of everyone in your life, you felt like he, of all people, would understand just how much this promotion meant to you.

“take a right or left from here, ma’am?” the cab driver’s voice breaks your train of thoughts. “right, you know this applefarm café which is around here? drop me off there.” you sit back and a giddy smile dances on your face, you wonder if you will run into him just like you did all those years ago or if you will have to call and find out.

you did worry at the beginning that maybe he would forget you, but every nerve in your body forced itself to implant him in your memory forever and you knew that he would do the same.

at applefarm café, you took a seat right near the entrance, it was exactly the spot where you had brunch with him after a night full of conversations that were embedded in you and your heart swelled when you saw the same elderly waitress, who served you all those years ago, heading towards you.

“what can i get for you today, ma’am?” she obviously didn’t remember you, but you couldn’t help but let a large grin split at her sight.

“a peach milkshake and chocolate tart please” it’s a miracle that you’ve managed to remember his order after all these years but every single second you spent with him is all your mind revolves around anymore, especially when you’re so close yet still far from him.

-

~2019~

you don’t know how your friends convinced you to come on this last-minute trip to berlin but here you were, not hating every second but still totally uncomfortable with how unprepared you were for this trip.

you were, to put it in a nice way, a total control freak.

you didn’t like going anywhere that wasn’t already dated in your planner, last-minute plans made you sweat like a wolf in heat, and it annoyed you to your very core when someone canceled plans that you had already made a schedule around.

even right now, as your friends happily pre-gamed before crashing a party, you were anxiously jotting down things you can do in berlin for the rest of your time there. your closest friend, jennie looks over and groans when she catches sight of the planner in your hands and immediately walks over to snatch it from you.

“seriously, what the fuck?” you yell after her as she locks the planner in the hotel room-provided vault. “i thought we all agreed on going spontaneous for this trip” she crosses her arms across her chest as she stares at you accusingly. “yes, all of you agreed but not me, we still haven’t done any tourist stuff and we leave tomorrow.” you desperately try to explain your friends, who through their fondness for your love for organizing, are shaking their heads at you.

“i have reached my limit of spontaneity, give me a break” you groan as you fall back on the bed, you don’t understand why you just can’t relax and let things be, you have always had a hard time with letting go or having fun, always too cautious and way too strung up to even think of doing something rebellious.

“listen, i know this is hard for you but for this one last night, just trust us.” lisa pats your thigh as she sits down beside you, trying not to grin at your obvious misery. “do i have a choice to do anything but that?” you can’t help but ask even if you know the answer and they all collectively smirk at you because they know that you know it too.

so, five hours later, when you’re sitting at your table in a club that you’re sure is way too small to fit the number of people in it, you are not the least bit surprised. your friends are swaying next to you, to the music and you’re all cheering before shots but you don’t feel all excited.

sure, you are happy, you love your friends but there is something missing in the air of the night.

maybe your drinks aren’t strong enough, maybe you are too in your head (yet again) to fully come out of your shell, maybe these lights are starting to make you feel dizzy, you don’t know.

but your attention is quickly taken away by the faint sound of a guitar strumming, and as you start to register the sound, you see everyone hurriedly walking over to the beach at the back of the place, all of them bubbling with excitement.

you watch as people keep shuffling towards the beach with loud chatter and you tilt your head at the commotion, wondering what could possibly have these people so flushed with anticipation.

and you don’t know why but your gut pulls you towards the back as well.

you have always been curious, about everything you come across, you need to everything that’s going on around you, and a large group of people migrating so suddenly, had your feet moving as quickly as they could towards them.

you look around confusedly at everyone gathered around a stage, quickly learning that a performance was set to take place, and also that there were no places left to sit so you dumbly hover by the door leading to the back, concluding that some hinge support was better than standing around in the loose sand for however long the performance was supposed to last.

then, over the gentle crashing of the waves to the shore, you hear it again, the faint guitar strumming but it’s not as faint anymore.

and it was coming from the right of you.

your head snaps to see the silhouette of a man tuning his guitar, and you automatically hold your breath as your eyes involuntarily lock on his figure.

you watched in wonder as the moon seemed to engulf him in cosmic light, you could see his high nose from where you were standing, you could see his hair with a few strands out of place, and you could see the loose shape of a t-shirt hanging off his tall and lean body, but you don’t know what exactly about him made every action in your body pause.

your eyes involuntarily follow him as he is joined by a few more people and all of them head onto the make-shift stage. loud cheers fill the previous silence but you don’t hear any of it, you don’t even hear your own heart beating out of your chest, you don’t see the hoards of people around you because your eyes still refuse to look away from him.

and when the honey-shaded light falls on him, you release the breath you didn’t know you were holding as your body shivers both in dread and delight, which you would later blame the cold weather for.

because nothing in the world could’ve prepared you for the sight that was that man.

you have seen good-looking people in your life, for heavens’ sake, you have some of the most attractive people you know as your friends but no one has quite invaded every one of your senses so quickly, as this man did.

and you are not sure how exactly you are supposed to feel about that.

from the cloud in your mind, you make out that they were introducing themselves but you don’t really understand what they’re saying. they start a song, you can see him singing, you can see his charming eyes hyping up the crowd from where you stood, you can see how the crowd is totally captivated by the dude with the guitar but you don’t know what they’re singing, you are not listening to a word they are pouring their heart into.

and you feel dirty, that you can’t take your eyes off him, you try to think of how if you were in his place, you wouldn’t want someone to stare at you like they haven’t seen another being in their life.

but then again, he wasn’t just any other being, he was literally the most beautiful being you have laid eyes on.

after forcing yourself to snap out of whatever mild haze that trapped your senses, you look around once again to see everyone enveloping the person next to them as they sway to the voice of the guy and the waves moved more soundly as if to accommodate the delicate ambiance that evening.

“maybe i’ll just never know, maybe i’ll just never hold you anymore but i can say i tried, i can say i fought for you, over the tallest hill in the world, i can yell that i loved you as much as i could, can you say the same?”

his angelic voice rings through the crowd, the lights falling even more delicately on him as he raises his gaze to meet the loved-up couples, and instead ends up meeting your eyes which haven’t been able to look away from him.

you turn your head with cheeks feeling hot as lava as you internally cringe at yourself.

what the fuck are you doing?

what has come over you?

sure, he is attractive but why are you acting as if you have never seen another man?

you sheepishly pat your cheeks before making a quick decision to leave as soon as you can, you can’t afford to make yourself look like even more of a fool than you already have.

but you risk it anyway, you tilt your head slightly to see if he’s gone back to what he was doing, you just wanted one last look at him before you left for good, you needed something to burn this into your memory.

so, imagine what happens when he gives you just what you need to never forget him again.

he was looking right at you, refusing to turn away even after you’ve clearly caught him and he continues singing while keeping his eyes on your every movement.

“but i can say i tried, i can say i gave it my all, i can say i used the last breath in me to breath life into you, can you?”

his lovely voice overshadows the bleak lyrics and you can feel your heartbeat all the way down to your toes.

and that’s when you leave.

you don’t notice the way his hands tighten around his guitar as you turn away.

when you go back in, you immediately collapse near the bar and your dress rides up your thighs as you slump forward on the counter and breathe out a long sigh. you can’t believe your body really gave up on you because one guy looked at you, and frankly, you are very much disappointed in your lack of self-control.

but he was looking at you too.

he refused to stop looking at you, even after you obviously caught him.

and that brought back the heat in your cheeks.

you feel ridiculous and embarrassed at your lack of composure, you don’t even think you have looked at any of the romantic partners in your life that way.

you shake your head at yourself, it was one thing to embarrass yourself, it was another thing to embarrass yourself in a foreign country, and you are so busy beating yourself up, you don’t see the person taking a seat next to you.

“whenever you are done talking to yourself, can i have a turn?” you hear the smoothest voice from beside you and you jump in surprise, not expecting another person to have joined you. in a panic, your eyes hurriedly meet theirs, and your breath is taken away all the same when you see who it is.

he’s still got his guitar resting on his shoulder, his hair is still fashionably out of place, his nose is still high from up close, his shirt hangs off his frame just the same but his face, his face was otherworldly this close.

and you have been talking to yourself like a mad person when he was right next to you.

how charming.

“what are you doing here?” the question tumbles out of your mouth before you can catch it and he quirks an eyebrow at you, an amused smile now gracing his features, you are sure he is smiling because of how wide your eyes have gotten. “if you are interested, i am here for you and if you are not, well, i’m here for this.” he picks up the glass collecting condensation on the counter and picks it up.

of course, with a gorgeous face like his, he is also a smooth talker.

“weren’t you just performing up there?” you try to ask with a clear voice but an audible gulp in the middle of the sentence gives away your nervousness. “i’m done, for today at least” he shrugs and you ignore the fact that his eyes never leave your face as he waits for you to speak.

if he noticed how nervous you are (which you frankly doubt he didn’t, cause you were being obvious with your fidgeting), he didn’t point it out which you felt grateful for.

“you’ve got a lovely voice” you tell him honestly, shifting in your seat to face him better, you did find his voice to be one of the sweetest you have ever heard. his voice held a different depth, now when he was speaking, that you are not sure you comprehend yet. “not lovely enough to make you stay till the end?” you want to run away again as he casually brings up how you ran away in embarrassment when your eyes met his.

“that was not the reason i left” you mumble as you lift your glass to take a large gulp and when you look back at him, he is smiling. he feels good, he feels damn good that someone as pretty as you, are losing your words over him. but he wasn’t doing any better, his heart was pounding in his ears with every word he spoke, and he still can’t believe he mustered up the courage to follow you in.

he hasn’t felt his heart leap so simply and so boundlessly, in a long time. he’s not even sure he’s ever felt this way before.

his pull to you felt magnetic, he didn’t understand why he felt the need to talk to you but he did, and he couldn’t ignore his feelings or understand them if he was being honest, so he was going to do everything he can to understand why you stood out to him in a room with 50 other people.

so he found himself, hurriedly running off the stage after his performance to find you again.

and now that he was this close to you, he understood his racing heart a little but that just left him wanting to know everything about you.

“my name is seokjin, and if you allow me, i would like to take you back there” he stands up, putting his hand out for you to take and your stomach tightens in the pure rush that simple line made you feel. seokjin’s hand trembled in the air, out of sheer nervousness that you were going to say no and turn away, he wished you didn’t notice.

“seokjin” you repeat in a quiet tone, you loved his name already, something about his name fit his face perfectly and you realize that while you were thinking of his name, your hand already reached to place it in his.

and his heart leaps again, he lets out a breath of relief as an easy smile takes over his face.

he gleefully tightens his hand around yours and pulls you to stand with him, that’s when you realize you didn’t even ask him why you were going back. and you can’t bring yourself to care, your entire body is flushed from his hand, you are sure your cheeks are as red as they come and your gaze decides to admire his broad back as he guides the both of you through the crowd.

this isn’t like you, this isn’t like you at all.

you never just talk to strangers, you don’t hold their hands, you don’t get this nervous around a person even if you are a shy person but your mind seemed to tumble on itself since you’ve seen him.

once you are out in the open air, your hot skin raises in goosebumps from how cold the weather had gotten and a slow, sweet song was playing. you could see that people were swaying their bodies with each other and it looked like the setting couldn’t have been more intimate, even with the full room.

you suck in a breath when seokjin turns around to look at you, your hand fell limply to your side as he left, and now, you could truly feel how bone-chilling it was.

“only if you want to, can i have this dance with you?” the way he asks in reassuring, laced with choice for you, it mattered to him more than anything, that you are okay with this and when you smile at him shyly, he swears his heart bursts into a million colors. “let’s go” this time, you envelop your hand around his and drag him with you where you can both dance without bumping into people.

you are still confused; you are still so new to all of this but you couldn’t deny how good it felt to be around him.

in a partly secluded corner, you remove your hand from his and wait for him to make the move which he doesn’t take too long to do.

within seconds, he hesitantly places an arm on the side of your waist and you step closer, feeling your breath waver already. he lets his eyes stay on your face as his other hand starts tracing where your arm begins to end by lacing your fingers with his and the entire time, he kept looking for any signs of discomfort in your face and lets out a breath of relief when he doesn’t see any.

“is this, okay?” he mutters, his voice lowering several more octaves and the room felt tight around you, like there was no space to move if it wasn’t in his arms and you found yourself wanting to erase any distance between you two. “more than okay” you mumble back and he bites his lip to hold back his huge smile at your response.

then, he took the confidence he got from the small smile on your face and tightened his hold on you as he started swaying the both of you to the music. and frankly, you didn’t care a bit about the song being played, maybe it was because of the way the same honey-light fell on him as he moved you two, maybe it was because you have never felt so breathless yet so full of life at once but you felt comfortable, comfortable enough to not question how you felt right in that moment.

he made small talk as he twirled you around, seokjin kept leaning in to make sure you knew that you had every bit of his attention and with every question you asked him, he answered with enthusiasm and humor which had your cheeks hurting from smiling so big.

for the first time in a very long time, you weren’t fidgeting to run around to get to the next thing you were supposed to do, you weren’t mentally counting down the minutes you needed to move on, because, somewhere in the middle of him dipping you dramatically to make you laugh to the way his touch left your skin burning; for those few moments, no other place in the world seemed more important.

seokjin’s very presence made you feel calmer than any years of therapy did and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with that information.

“aren’t you going to ask me for my name?” you remind him halfway through the third song and he laughs breathily, sucking in a breath before offering the widest smile to you, which made you instantly smile back even more. “i can’t believe i forgot to ask you that, please excuse my lack of manners. so, what is your name?” he asks, polite as ever, and you immediately tell him.

and just like you, seokjin finds your name to be perfect for your face.

“so, tell me y/n, what brings you here to this place?” his curiosity about you was eating him alive but thankfully, you were more than to humor him. “they have the cheapest vodka around here, at least that’s what it said on yelp” you answer honestly and jin lets out a snort at that. “alcohol shouldn’t be as expensive as it is” he shakes his head in a sort of agreement with you. “exactly like it’s my senses that are being deprived, why am i paying with half my kidney for that?” you complain with furrowed eyebrows and jin coos at the sight, he loves to hear you whine, he loves it way too much.

he keeps asking you questions, about what brought you to berlin, what you liked so far, and who you came here with and you felt yourself melting even more into him as you answer him.

“why did you start performing here?” you ask this time and giggle when he spins you around suddenly to place your back against his chest, both his arms still tightly wound around you as he looks down at you.

he barely knows you but seokjin is willing to bet that he’s going to remember this night forever because no one ever asked him about his purpose for performing.

"well, as you’ve said, i have a lovely voice, i thought why let it go to waste, you know?” you let out a small laugh at the confidence and silliness in his tone but quickly tilt your head as if it to ask him to answer seriously.

at the curious look in your eyes and the light hitting you just right, seokjin feels his senses drain from his body because suddenly, all his eyes can see, all his mind can register, is how close your lips are to his. and you notice his eyes fixating on your lips and your breath hitches. seokjin starts leaning in, his breath hitting your face in a warm wave and you stiffen in pure anticipation of what would come.

but then he shakes his head, leaning back with an uneasy chuckle.

“not now, not like this” you raise your eyebrows as you try to snap out of your own daze. “what do you mean?” you mumble, not doing a good job at hiding your disappointment and he panics, because the last thing he wants is for you to misunderstand him pulling back. “don’t get me wrong, trust me when i say i want to do nothing more than to kiss this night away with you but i want to do it right, i want to do it when both of us can’t think of anything else” as he utters those words, your heart pauses.

then beats.

then pauses again.

before beating louder than any rock music on the planet.

were you always capable of feeling this way?

“then, can i do something?” instead of answering you, he turns you back so you were chest to chest now. “you can do anything you want with me” he whispers back his answer with a dopey grin on his face and your chest tightens in the best way possible as you reach up to leave a light kiss on his cheek.

you are more than pleased to see his face turn red as he tries to hide his blushing face in your shoulders. “can we please get out of here? if you don’t have anything planned, i want to show you so much” he mumbles onto your shoulder and you don’t think twice before nodding.

it wasn’t your smartest moment, you were going to admit to that, jetting off with a stranger in a foreign country in the middle of the night, is never the smart choice but you also couldn’t let this night end here.

you wait at the entrance of the pub with flickering lights, pulling your shawl closer to your body after you waved your friends’ goodbye, needless to say, they were surprised by your impulsive decision but after making sure you had a way to reach them if things went south, they left with giggles about how berlin’s air changed you.

“why are you even going with him?” they had asked and were pleasantly surprised when you replied with “i don’t know” and a happy shrug, you were free of any riddling anxiety in your body at that moment. and your friends were glad to see it.

“should we?” seokjin walks out and your jaw drops because of how different he looked with just an outfit change. his loose, dark-colored t-shirt, torn jeans and chains replaced with a well-fitting cream-colored shirt tucked into beige pants and a blazer thrown over his arm. even his hair looked different, now neatly styled and tucked back.

“too much of a contrast, isn’t it? unfortunately, this is how i usually dress, pretty bland colors and all.” he laughs as he sees your face and you immediately shake your head, “it’s fine, it’s nice” it’s very nice and i might be drooling a little, might have been the more accurate response there. he stares at you for a few seconds, doing his best to hide the smirk growing on his face.

eventually, he shakes his head with a huge grin, reaching out to take your hand in his, he was no longer hesitant because if seokjin went by the way you looked at him, you wanted him just as much as he did.

-

your room wasn’t the best, it restricted your view of the prettiest city you’ve had the pleasure of knowing but you didn’t want to waste money on a room you were barely going to spend time in. falling on the bed, your mind goes back to seokjin, as if it ever stopped thinking of him. your smile grew and grew as you recounted everything that happened the night you met him, you can’t believe it was actually you who took off with a stranger.

but it was the best decision you made in your life.

not much has changed now though, you are still extremely strict with your plans and time but you allow yourself to let go when it feels right. you were grateful that you still had that strong work ethic in you because that rewarded itself in the form of a promotion you have waited forever for.

you get up to look out the window, your eyes set on the same pub that let you fall in love all those years and you immediately run to the bathroom to start getting ready.

you couldn’t wait any longer to see him and for someone who hated waiting the most, he truly put you up to the ultimate test.

your hand unconsciously reaches to the chain hanging off your neck, you just hoped he thought of you just as much.

-

~2019~

“so, why do you perform? you never ended up telling me” you pause from the breathless laughter you both have been tumbling in since you sat down near a stall owned by jin’s friend. ‘they have the best bingsu i’ve had in my life’ is what he said after learning that you enjoy sweet things.

“i told you, lovely voice and all” he quirked an eyebrow and you fight the grin on your face as you tried to glare at him. “okay okay, i’ll tell you” he gives in, moving closer to you on the long bench as the cold wind kept hitting both your faces.

you also moved closer, adjusting his jacket on your shoulder and seokjin fought the urge to hold you even closer, he didn’t like even the tiny bit of space left between you two.

“it’s not my actual job, performing at the pub. i am actually an accounting manager, but i was sent by the company to berlin, and they are based in seoul, which is also where i grew up.” he explains and it took you by surprise that this isn’t what he did for a living, he really looked like he was made to be on the stage. “i came here around 4 years ago, so not too long ago but long enough to know where the best food is, where the pretty places are, where the vodka is cheapest” he trails off with a teasing smile to you, and you giggle in response.

“i am holding onto you for the cheap vodka thing, you need to take me there” you say, tilting your head at him with a huge grin on your face and seokjin’s entire face softens at your smile. “consider it done.” and he doesn’t know what prompts him but he leans over to brush his nose with yours and you don’t back away, and instead nuzzle into his touch.

this was nice, this was way too nice.

then he continued, “when i came here, i didn’t know anyone, i was too shy to talk to people at work and i felt extremely homesick, the only thing that kept me sane then was cooking myself korean food from time to time. i was working like a machine, with no real motive or passion for anything, just a repeated cycle. but then, i met these guys, and somehow, ended up in a band with them. we perform only on some days, whenever all of us are free and i didn’t even know i would be happy singing in front of people, but i am, unbelievably so.” his voice was sad when he was talking about home but as soon as mentioned his friends, his voice became louder, more filled with pride and you didn’t need him to tell you that he thought the world of these friends.

he looked over at you and your eyes were slightly glazed over because you can’t imagine missing home, you can’t imagine not knowing anyone in a huge city like this, you would simply not be able to go through with something similar to what seokjin did, and your admiration grew with every word he spoke.

seokjin, on the other hand, can’t remember a time when he opened up so easily and deeply to someone.

“i am glad you performed today” you say, with warm cheeks and not really looking at him. one side of his mouth lifts up at your words, and he nods, “i am glad i did too.”

“so, what do you do? what unwillingly gets you out of bed every day?” he throws the question to you and you sit up straight, the thought of your work immediately alerting your senses.

“i am working at a start-up, we are trying to make a platform for people of color to express themselves on various attributes like their workplace and the micro-aggressions they face there, or their family’s immigration, how it feels to have to live in a place where the language and culture aren’t yours and how they deal with it. the idea is to express all this through different media outlets like videos, or a series of articles, or artwork.” you explain and seokjin sits in wonder at how smart you are, he expected you to be doing something like that, he didn’t know why but he just had a feeling that someone like you was just brimming with ideas.

but he does notice that your eyes don’t light up like his when he talks about performing.

“but you don’t like it?” you nod and then pause before shaking your head at this.

“the objective is great, the whole reason i joined was because i didn’t want people who looked like me, who sounded like me, to feel alone. i wanted to give them a safe place, a voice, something that was only theirs, something i wish i had when i started out.” you bite your lip because talking about your job makes you sad.

“i want to do so much but you know who’s the head managing all of these activities? a white person, a white person with privilege. he’s never had to fight for his voice. he’s straight, he’s white, he plays golf on the weekends, he has kids comfortably going to private schools and he has a trophy wife. he doesn’t understand these stories, he throws every single one that comes our way and refuses to hear out the already silenced people, always asking for something ‘spicy’ instead of the truth, he just wants a dramatic story to publicize. i just can’t stand working for someone like him, someone who refuses to see the entire reason for our establishment but i can’t give up now, not after i promised to myself that i will make it better for others.”

seokjin hears the determination in your voice, he understands the frustration more than anyone else which is he remains in thoughtful silence before he notices something else in your eyes.

a burning passion to destroy whomever this man was.

“you’re going to do something about him, aren’t you?” he smirks at you and your angry glare melts. “i am going to work till i’m seating in his chair and making decisions that he should be making right now, i’m going to make sure that whatever i do, it will be meaningful. i’m getting that promotion someday” seokjin feels his heart burst with pride, he might not know you all that well, but he knows how much this means to you and that you will do it.

“when you do it, you come and tell me all about it, yeah?” he bumps his shoulder with yours playfully.

it’s the way he says it, like he believes you will do it somehow and that fills you with renewed hope for your future.

“deal.” you whisper, bumping him back. you both sit like that, the night feeling longer than it was supposed to be, but you were all the more grateful for it. then, seokjin gets up, dusting his pants off before extending his hand towards you, and it’s instinct to put your hand in his now.

“come on, i want to show you so much more” and then you’re being dragged away to the next place jin wants to take you to.

that’s how you spend the night, hand in his, and exploring every small corner of berlin that they don’t mention in travel packages, you saw berlin through seokjin’s eyes, and those few hours of drifting away with the cold wind, filled your heart with a feather-like feeling, a feeling of being able to float into the sky if it weren’t for seokjin’s hand anchoring you to the ground.

there wasn’t anywhere or anyone else you wanted to spend that time with.

“you should go now” you whisper with your forehead against his, right outside your hotel, not really wanting to leave or him to leave. it was getting late or early to be more precise; the sun was threatening to peek through, the sky being filled with the faintest shades of orange and blue as you and seokjin stood under, hands refusing to leave the other.

“is that why you’re squeezing the life out of my hands right now?” your giggles escape into the space between you two, “but seriously, it’s too late already.” even as you say it, you don’t move an inch and he doesn’t either.

“i’m going to sound crazy” he starts and your ears perk up immediately, “come to my home, i promise i make a mean hot pot, we can do whatever you want to do.” it should scare you, a stranger inviting you to their home, should definitely trigger some fight or flight response in you, but you don’t feel any of your usual anxiousness, you just feel him and the strong urge to follow wherever he goes.

“i understand if you don’t feel comfortable, i totally get it so don’t feel obliged, but if you do agree, i’ve got a gift for you.” one of seokjin’s eyebrows draws up at the last words, and your curiosity bursts through you, any lingering hesitance immediately left your body.

“my answer” you trail off, stepping back, seokjin’s hands fall away from yours and he thinks this is where your magical night ends, this is the night he will spend weeks daydreaming about, the night that will keep him up forever.

he will spend many days just weaving through the possibilities of what you could be, of what you could’ve been.

you keep him waiting, dwelling in the satisfaction that his nervous face brought.

“depends on your gift.” you give him a coy smile and he lets out an airy laugh, “you had me really scared there, for a second.” he shakes his head at you and you fight your smile from growing bigger, “i know.”

and before you say something else to drop his heart to his ass, seokjin pulls out a chunky, tourist necklace with a laugh threatening to break from his throat. the necklace has a huge locket, with the words ‘berlin’ sprawled on it in vivd, neon colors.

it looks ugly.

he knows it looks ugly.

“i think i’ll just head inside” you playfully turn around on your heel and attempt to walk away, you count down the seconds it takes him to put you back in his arms.

one.

two.

three.

he lasted three seconds.

a record for the night truly.

seokjin’s arms immediately pulled you back to him and as you pretended to struggle against his grip, the ugly necklace was already resting on your clavicle.

“you really thought this would convince me to come home with you?” your hands pull on the necklace as seokjin bows over in laughter, “oh come on, it’s not that bad” he stands straight, clearing his throat, his face fighting to stay passive.

you give him an unimpressed look and that’s enough for him to burst into wheezes of laughter again.

and you love it, you love how freely seokjin laughs.

you want to hear it forever.

you stand there with your arms crossed against your chest, a fond smile etched on your face as you watch the man of your night, start to calm down. and he does, in the dramatic fashion you expect him to, fanning his face to force air onto his red cheeks as his eyes wrinkle with pure joy.

“if you’re done, can we go back to yours already?” you tap your foot impatiently, shying away from the fact that you just agreed to spend even more time with him. seokjin’s heart grows wings as his eyes drift over your soft smile, your tired but happy eyes, and then, the big, ugly necklace that rests on your body now.

“i knew you would like it.”

-

“you have a cute home” you look at the photos hanging off his walls, all of them with either his family or the boys from the band. a fond smile grew on your face as you come across a photo with a very young jin holding a fishing rod. “you fish?” you turn around to see him setting up wine glasses on the counter.

“i used to” he sighed, coming around to give you a glass, for which you thank him silently, “why, no fish in berlin?” you tease him as you take a sip, he remains silent. your mood slips when he doesn’t smile at you as he has been all night.

“i’m sorry if i overstepped” you quickly apologize, not meaning to bring up anything that wasn’t comfortable for him, he shakes his head in response, “no no, god no. don’t say sorry, i just haven’t didn’t feel like fishing anywhere except home” he stares at the picture where he holds the fish with both longing and resignation.

“you miss seoul?”

“always.”

“i can’t imagine missing home” you gulp as you imagine how you would be if you moved places, you wouldn’t survive without your comfort zone. “it’s not all bad.” seokjin smiles reassuringly but you aren’t convinced.

“you just said you miss home always.”

“i do but if i went back home, i would miss this too. imagine if i never left seoul, i would have never joined a band, i would have never put my lovely voice to use,” you scoff as he holds back a laugh, “i would have never known where you can find the cheapest alcohol in berlin, nor would i have ever bought some ugly necklace for a pretty woman.” you look away at the last part, hiding your burning cheeks away by staring out the window, “you buy a lot of women necklaces?”

“only the one, actually.” he steps in front of you with a smirk playing on his lips.

“my, she must be lucky” your voice drips with sarcasm as you raise the ugly necklace to his face, “i would insist i am the lucky one” his eyes are light as seokjin hums and traces the shape of the necklace which falls back on your clavicle.

the lightest touch between his fingers and your skin makes you suck in a breath.

as if a passing cloud suddenly rained down on you.

but you have been waiting for the droplets, you have been waiting for the thunder and storm.

you have been waiting for him to do something that leaves you breathless.

seokjin steps forward, grabs your wine glass, and places it on the counter.

“you know, i’ve met so many people over the years i joined the band,” he whispers his words and you quirk your eyebrow, “you’re not off to a great start, seokjin,”

he stifles a laugh behind his hand before clearing his throat and bringing his hands to rest on your jaw, “you are so impatient.” though it’s a trait of yours that you hate so very much, the way he says it with admiration instead of malice, makes your heart burn in your chest.

“you are making me wait too long” you whisper back, shivering under his fingers which traced your features carefully, intently as his eyes spark back with light-heartedness.

“i apologize for that” he sweeps a hand under your jaw and gently tugs your face towards his and your stomach flips into itself.

everything around you faded into oblivion.

but seokjin wandered and invaded every single one of your senses.

his lips were pillow-soft, as soft as you had imagined.

his soft breath warmed your cheeks.

his hair fell around your eyes and made it hard for you to see.

but you could see.

you could see all of him even with your eyes closed.

you could feel all of him especially with your eyes closed.

his hands that clutched your body like it was his oxygen.

his legs that couldn’t possibly step closer to you but still tried.

his shoulders that were strong under your hands.

how were you going to ever leave him behind?

“seokjin i-“ you let out helplessly, trying to tell him that this was only going to be this one night, that you would have to leave him here. he chooses to soothe his hands over your arms, easing your panic as quickly as it came, and gives you a soft kiss, parting away with a nod to let you continue.

that made it a thousand times harder to tell him.

there was no one way to do this.

“my flight is tomorrow.”

“what?”seokjin’s relaxed face twists as sadness settles behind his eyes. “it’s booked for the evening” you give the information with a wince. his grip on you falters as an uneasy smile break on his face, “i thought you were just at the beginning of your trip.”

you wish it was.

you wish so badly that it was.

he steps away from your space, you understand it’s his form of rejection. it feels like a burning sting running down your back and you hold back the tears that dangle on your lashes, you couldn’t bear this. this was the closest you had ever gotten to love in your entire life and it was crumbling in just some hours.

you didn’t want seokjin to be some distant memory.

you didn’t want to wake up and reminisce on what could have been.

“i don’t want this to end here” you say, voice quivering with vulnerability. you didn’t care if you will be rejected again, you didn’t care if he tells you to leave and your arms shifted to cover your stomach, a poor attempt at protecting yourself.

this was the first time you knew, for sure, something that you wanted and you weren’t going to cost yourself the pain that comes from not trying at all.

but seokjin’s silence was weakening your hope and you wanted to curl into yourself for ever believing that you could have a shot at love.

“i don’t want this to end either.”

his words sunk into you slowly and filled you with the warmth that dissipated from your body.

“are you sure?” you hated how weak you sounded.

seokjin tutted at you, stepping into your space to unfold your arms that held before you as defense and engulfed your hands in his.

“i would hate myself for a long time if i didn’t give us a try, it’s going to be hard but i have a good feeling about this. there’s so much more i want to know about you and there’s so much i want you to know about me, so this can’t end here.”

he breathes back life into you with the promise hidden in his words, that he’s going whichever way you are willing to as well.

“me too, i want more, way more than just this night.”

seokjin’s face fills with both relief and agreement, it reassures you that this wasn’t just you going crazy here, this wasn’t just you hanging onto whatever you could, this was both of you, unwilling to let your chance at love die tonight.

so, you spent all night, with each other, in each other, sharing every bit of yourself that you could in the time that you did.

but soon, the sun shone too bright and your eyes couldn’t stop filling up with tears.

-

you held your breath as you pushed the door open to seokjin’s studio, at least, you hoped this was the one. you had been to his old studios but they just moved into this one, so you had no idea what it looked like.

your palms were getting sweaty.

“y/n!” you heard hoseok, the vocalist and rapper from seokjin’s band chime from a corner and your entire body relaxes as you reach out for a hug. “seokjin hadn’t told us that you were coming, we would’ve cleaned up a bit” you both laughed together at the mess around your feet.

“this is kind of a surprise, so not his fault really.” you set aside the basket of baked goods you bought for them.

“thank you for this, we’ve all been out of it lately with the move and the new label so it’s nice to see you, i’m sure he will be ecstatic” hoseok hums as he digs through it.

“how’s the whole becoming a full-time band thing going?” you tried to distract yourself from the actual reason you were here, it was going to be a lot for seokjin to take at once.

“at the beginning, daunting as fuck, all of us were scared but we really didn’t have to worry so much, our gigs have been consistent and with this new baby, we can do so much more with our music.” you nodded, letting him rant to ease his mind and to also ease yours.

you were overjoyed when seokjin told you that they were becoming a legit band with a proper label, contract, and all the work. but hearing now how stressful it’s been, a tiny seed of worry plants itself in your mind that you were being selfish with this surprise.

but he will be happy, right?

like it’s all you two have talked about wanting. but that was before all the label stuff, before he had so much on his plate and your feet started tapping the ground incessantly as your worry continued to grow.

what if you guys break up over this?

what if he tells you that after all this time and effort, he didn’t want to be together anymore?

a jingle at the door made you jump as three figures started to huddle in.

you were out of time to worry anymore.

-

“just one more minute” you pleaded as your arms stayed tightly wrapped around seokjin’s torso, he let out a sad chuckle at that and granted your wish by letting you bury yourself in him. your friends stayed away to give you the privacy you needed for that minute.

this wasn’t fair.

your first shot at proper love couldn’t end this way, it wasn’t ending technically but still, you had no idea what would happen after this. all you knew for sure was that you had this one minute with him and everything after that, was left up to fate.

“i don’t think i can let you go” he whispers into your hair as he planted a soft kiss on your temple and your body shuddered with unshed tears threatening to cascade from your eyes.

“call everyday?” seokjin asks in a quiet tone, laced with the vulnerability that you braved when you told him that you wanted more. “everyday.” you nodded determinedly into his chest.

“visits whenever we can?” it was your turn to ask and seokjin nods just as determined as you, “whenever we can.”

“you won’t forget me” seokjin says with utter confidence, just to make you laugh, which you do with a full kind of happiness, “it’s kind of hard to” you point to the ugly necklace that you decided to keep on.

it was growing on you.

“we’ll find our way back to each other, okay? somewhere, the universe will and has to align for us and when it does, i will never leave you again.” your eyes, already swollen with the tears you’ve cried, grow wet again as you desperately force yourself to believe him.

it has to.

it absolutely has to.

it can’t just end here.

but as your hands leave him for the last time and your boarding ticket crumbles in your hold, you can’t help but feel that the future may not be as kind to you two as you hoped it would be.

-

meeting seokjin always felt brand new, in between the countless times you both flew to each other, touching his skin after waiting for a while, always took your breath away and managed to make you feel like the lightest cloud in the sky.

but as his arms engulfed you tightly, whispering words of surprise and amazement into your ears at seeing you after so long, your anxiety couldn’t be calmed, your hands couldn’t stop shaking and your breath refused to be even.

this was it, this was the day that would truly mark where you two would end up.

“i thought it was my turn to visit this time” he gleefully kissed your cheek and you nodded stiffly, “i just couldn’t wait” you replied, truthfully but your nerves were starting to give you a headache.

“are you okay? you look pale” seokjin’s eyes assessed you with concern as the back of his hand pressed into your forehead and you sighed.

you had to tell him, this could go badly but it could also go well and with that tiny hope, you tugged towards the exit with you and he followed you wordlessly.

through the years you have known seokjin now, you had fights, huge fights, arguments that you thought you couldn’t move past from, arguments that made you believe you were done. but every single time, you both found your way to each other.

and every single time, he gave you more reasons to stay and keep trying.

which is how you are here, in the city where you discovered love for the first time, throwing a stone into the blind for the future of your relationship and hoping it hits the right spot.

“so, what is on your mind?” he pulls you by your hand to wrap an arm around your body and you shiver with the same giddiness you felt all those years ago.

but you struggle to tell it to him.

no one talks about how scary it is to go a step forward in a relationship and just hope that they take the step too.

so, you don’t tell him. you slowly reach out for the promotion letter tucked away in your coat. you give it to him with shaking hands and with confused eyes, he looks at the paper that held both your futures.

you watch carefully as his eyes go wide and the largest grin grows on his face.

“you got it! you fucking did it, i knew you could but oh my god” seokjin gushes and smothers your face with kisses and you can’t help but giggle. “you actually kicked him out the program, i’m so proud of you” he presses a long kiss on your head and your insides warm with the love he showered on you.

“wait, look at the piece i submitted.” you show him the page where you wrote the story of men in berlin who found their home in each other and in their music, how they missed home but built a new one in a city unknown to them.

“this is about us?” the amazement in his voice brings a smile to your face.

“i couldn’t think of a better person to write about, you are the story that people need to know about because you’ve found the heart to make a strange, new place, your new home.” seokjin’s eyes fill with unshed tears, “you wrote all this?” he chokes back a sob and you know he’s beyond happy with it, so you nod eagerly.

“there’s more” you whisper as you point to the very end of the paper.

the end, where it states, that the headquarters of your organization would permanently move to berlin.

seokjin stares at the text for one second without a word.

two seconds.

three seconds.

this was a mistake, you should’ve talked about this with h-

“is this real? does this mean what i think it does?” he whispers to you, voice filled with confusion and hardly contained joy. you nod at him and bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for him to let you down gently or jump in the air with you.

his response comes in the form of him throwing his entire body onto yours, holding you so tightly that you can hardly breathe but you’re okay being breathless, you hardly contain your shivers of happiness when he starts whispering how grateful he was to you, and how much he loved you.

“so, you’re okay with this?” you ask, unable to keep the question hanging in your head. he pulls back and looks at you with such adoration, that you feel dumb for even asking the question.

“are you kidding me? this is all we’ve ever wanted, everything i’ve dreamed of since we started with this. i get to see you everyday and i can’t think of a better thing in my life from now on.” he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear with teary eyes and that’s all it takes for you to cry as well.

“this is good, very good, why are we crying?” you sob into his chest and he shakes his head, unable to give you an answer but holding you tighter against him.

it was hard to make the decision to move but your town didn’t feel right anymore, and there were so many stories to tell, so many days to spend with seokjin that you just couldn’t give up on, so when the offer to berlin came through, you took it right away with a giddy heart.

“this changes everything for us” he sighs out and you tense again, “in the best way possible, i can’t wait to make you sick of me” seokjin lets out a low laugh at your worried face before kissing all your frown lines separately.

and you let him, you let him continue to kiss your worries away.

you look around the city which will soon become your home, a feeling churns in your stomach but you know this time, that it wasn’t your anxiousness, it wasn’t because you had to go running somewhere else, it was because you finally found your person and your place.

that was enough to spark tears back in your eyes and this time, it’s all happiness, it’s all joy, it’s all the excitement that comes with getting to spend every day with the person you love, in the city, that helped you find love.

[blorbosexterminator]

In the newest interview, alvaro said that big chances that professor wouldn't be in the spin off because it's berlin's project and focusing on his new cast or crew. He said this one (Berlin) is separated from LCDP. Does that mean that we wont get Palermo too? 😢 I mean, if the whole 8 eps are just about berlin having fun with strangers he pretends to be friends with, whats the point of watching? The only thing we can hope, maybe the plot would be good, but from the teaser, I too have a doubt about it.

I haven't seen that interview (if those are his exact words, "big chance" is a weird way to phrase it since shooting is done, he's either in it or he's not lol.) Anyway, I wouldn’t take too much away from his words. They are pretty much a rephrasing of what Pina has been saying. They might mean Sergio won't show up at all, or that Sergio will only show up through a cameo, not in as a central way as LCDP. And that makes sense to me either way. I would personally love a cameo but generally regarding Sergio, it makes sense that he wouldn't be present through all his brother's heists and gangs and day to day life (which was already established in canon).

So I wouldn't compare Sergio's situation with Martín. At least on a textual level. Once established that Andrés had met Martín, it would make zero sense that Martín wouldn't be there since we know from canon Martín has been on his side for ten years prior to the monastery flashbacks. And generally speaking, there is not a single character from LCDP that belongs more in Berlin the show than actual lcdp lmfao. Martín's entire construction in canon was in the framework of Berlin.

That's not to say the show won't be about Berlin having fun with strangers for 8 episodes lmfao. That will probably be it. But I'm still in the belief that Palermo will guest-star or cameo in the last episode, as a form of Berlermo's first meeting. And I think if Rodrigo agrees and Netflix grants Pina a second season, he might be a main character going forward. I don't think there is a lot to hope for from the spin-off but I still believe it will be better and more surprising than we imagine now.

[hannahssimblr]

It’s a dreary, drizzly evening that calls for streetlights earlier than usual, their light straining weakly through the thick mist off the bay, and as I glance down at Ivy with droplets of rain beading on the halo of frizz around her plaits I consider the fact that she was right, a jacket wouldn’t have been the worst idea. 

The lights are on early at Michelle’s house too, the voile netting over the netting in the living room window not giving anything away inside, just the vague shapes of whatever is on the television.

As always, the door is off the latch, and inside Jen is leaning against the counter by the toaster spinning a butter knife in her fingers. She gives me a wary look when we see each other. “She’s in the living room,” and holds her hand out to Ivy, “Hey Ives, do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? C’mere, oh, who did your hair today? Was it your brother? Yikes, okay let me have a look at this…”

I gingerly push through to the living room, where Michelle is engaged in an intense discussion with both of her parents. She’s slumped on the couch with puffy eyes while they stand with their backs to the fire, glancing at me with alarm as I enter the room wielding a bar of chocolate, which, in hindsight is a bit of a pathetic celebratory or consolation prize. 

“Hi.”

“Oh good, Jude,” Rahim beckons me over to the couch to sit with Michelle, and I take her hand, “can you tell her that this is not the end of the world?” He’s saying, voice tinged with impatience, “There are plenty of other opportunities.”

“Zero, huh?” I say gently, and she shakes her head, arm trembling as she passes the letters to me. One, two, three rejections. I read one of them briefly, from Paris. 

“‘...unimaginative and containing cliches…’ wow, that feels a bit harsh, doesn’t it? I don’t think they needed to be all like that about it.”

She breaks down in tears, “I’m a terrible artist.”

“No, you aren’t,” I skim through the one from Berlin, “Look, they’ve said here that this year’s application was their strongest in history. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I just feel so stupid.”

“What? No, you’re the furthest thing from stupid.”

“Michelle, there are other options,” Rahim practically pleads, “Why don’t you go back to the application portal before it is too late and put down something more reasonable?”

Debra agrees, “This is what we’ve been saying, Michelle, maybe art is wrong for you. See? You shouldn’t have changed your mind in the first place. There’s a good reason you decided against it-”

“Yeah well I want to do it now, don’t I?” Michelle snarls, swatting tears away from her cheeks, “Jude and I are doing this together, it’s already decided.”

Her mother eyes me warily before deciding that I should probably hear this too, “Love, you know it’s not always a good idea to make big life decisions based on your boyfriend. Nothing lasts forever.”

“How could you say that?”

“What happened to veterinary science, hm? Wouldn’t that be a good career?”

“I wanted to be a vet when I was like, seven, what are you on about?” 

“Or she could be a doctor, like me!” Rahim attempts, but this is only met with a fresh barrage of sobs. I rub my girlfriend’s back uselessly while the chocolate softens inside its wrapper against the heat of my leg. 

Debra is looking at me empathetically as I comfort her daughter, as though she and I have some connection now, like a baton has passed through some small exclusive club for people who have held Michelle while she cries. “How did you get on with your applications?” 

“Oh, um, yeah, I got in,” I feel guilty even saying it but Michelle doesn’t really react to the news, as though she already made an assumption, but I jump in to finish quickly before she can make another. “I won’t be accepting any of them, though, I mean, obviously. I was only ever going to move away if Michelle was coming too, and, you know, unless London works out then that won’t happen.”

Michelle kneads her eye with the heel of her hand, “Did you not get the email?”

“What email?”

“From the London school.”

“Uh, no, I just saw the letters.”

Her eyes widen, “So you didn’t see the NCAD email either?”

“Since when were there emails?” 

“Oh my God,” she’s on her feet then, all of her misery forgotten in favour of urgency. “Go and look right now, what the hell?”

“Love,” Debra attempts soothingly, “it’s probably better if Jude checks his emails on his own, isn’t it? The last thing we want is for this to set you off-”

We’re already running for the stairs, her behind me prodding my back the whole way up in a way that feels like she’s forcing me to walk the plank to my untimely death in a tank of piranhas. We burst into her room and she runs to navigate to gmail while I sweat despite the temperature of her room, which is always kind of cold. 

I log in and the page loads up to two new emails sitting brazenly in my inbox.  

“There they are, click them!”

“Michelle I just want to say that-”

“Oh, come on,” she seizes the mouse and clicks for me, first the one from London, and her voice is flat, “They accepted you. No surprises.”

“It doesn’t matter though, does it? If they didn’t accept you too then I’m not going.”

“Mm.” She immediately clicks the next one, from NCAD, “It’s just points,” she mutters in explanation, “So it all depends on our leaving cert,” scrolling, she reaches the bottom of the email where my points sit, undeniable in a bold black font against stark white. 

I feel her stiffen. “One thousand?” 

“Uh, wow, is that good?”

There is a long pause. “Jude, that’s literally maximum points.”

I can’t bring myself to look at her right away, but I feel her eyes on the side of my face, searing holes through my skin. 

“I thought your interview went badly.”

“Yeah me too!”

“Well then-” she breaks off to make some noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a sob, “then how did you get such ludicrously high points?”

“Like what I said, I suppose. They were arseholes to everyone on purpose,” I spin around to her, “What did you get?”

“Four fifty.”

So I grab hold of her hands and hold her very tightly and very still, I want to seem sure, “No matter what happens, we’ll be okay,” I promise, “Even if none of this works out for you, I’ll still be right here, do you hear me?”

She nods. 

“I’m not going anywhere without you. God, I mean, why would I even do that? You’ll get NCAD off the back of your leaving cert points, I’m one hundred percent sure. And... even if you don't, I'll stay in Dublin.” As soon as I say it I start feeling nauseated, and dizzy, a bit heady like I’ve inhaled some miscellaneous gas from the science lab, but I fight through it, “fuck all of those stupid plans for going abroad, right? I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Okay, c’mere,” I pull her into me and hold her tightly, taking in the smell of her hair, the way her narrow shoulders, her birdlike frame softens in my arms and accept that this is the comfort I will rely on from now on. True, it’s not always easy with Michelle, but we really do love each other. Sometimes love is work, but love is rare and worth holding onto with both hands and your whole heart. All those plans I had, I think, they were misguided, a youthful mistake. Perhaps at some point in the future I can move to Amsterdam, or Paris, or Berlin, or London, and do something creative and exciting, but not now. That’s what I’ll do in ten years, when everything is different. I’ll make sure to tell Sam. 

Who did I think I was, really, trying to do all of that at eighteen? Now is for this, for Michelle. For doing something right.

“I love you,” she says, and I wonder, with her cheek resting against my chest, if she can somehow hear the way my heart tightens as though grasped by a fist, or how my breath catches in my throat when she says it. I’m surprised by the rising feeling that I might start crying, but I force it down.  

Crying over what, Jude? I sneer at myself. 

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Something stupid, as usual.

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