#but like i am horrifically aware nothing lasts forever and i'm coming up on one ending

[svtskneecaps]

hm. ah.

[morganaspendragonss]

so so many thanks to everyone who read even one of these stories. i am forever grateful for all the support i've received; every comment, every kudos, every reblog, every like - they all mean so much. i'm overwhelmed, honestly, but in the very best way. ily all 🥰

day one: against all odds (we're still here) for @trkstrnd

Carlos will hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused on his task that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

*

a simple trip to the grocery store quickly turns to disaster for tk and carlos

day two: out, damned spot for anon

TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.

On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.

But they weren't always that way.

day three: the meetings for those in my wake for @freddieholic

For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news, and almost always about their son. Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas, which is why she thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.

“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”

The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.

The sob that follows is the second.

“Gwyn, it’s TK. He's... They think we should say goodbye."

day four: a friend in me for 📍 anon

Carlos has come to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But, right now, as she sits hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, he's never seen her look so small.

or

the story of how nancy and carlos become the new champions of 126 games nights

day five: truth is heavier than fiction for anon

Carlos pauses with his hand on the doorknob, taking a moment to prepare himself before going inside. TK’s shift finished an hour ago and he’d texted to let Carlos know he was home, which means Carlos is going to be walking right into a conversation he’d rather avoid.

Not that he’d have much choice either way; he might be able to cover his cracked and bruised ribs for a little while, but the arm in a sling will tell on him as soon as the door opens. Carlos doesn’t want to hide his injuries—they’ve had enough conversations in reverse on that theme to make him a hypocrite if he did—but he may have made some choices that he doesn’t particularly want to go into right now. Not while he’s tired and aching and just wants to cuddle with his boyfriend.

He blows out a breath, then opens the door, bracing himself for TK’s reaction.

“Hey— Shit!”

day six: slowly, and then all at once for @pragmaticoptimist34

The realisation that he loves Carlos hits him like a bolt out of the blue.

And at the worst possible moment.

We are getting updates on the active shooter situation at the Four Seasons Hotel. Austin Police Department have closed off the area and officers are currently preparing to enter the building to detain the suspect. It is as yet unknown if there have been any civilian casualties, but—

“Paul, turn the damn TV back on.”

“No.”

*

five times tk can't admit his feelings about carlos, and one time he finally does

day seven: the promise of tomorrow for anon

Up until five minutes ago, Carlos had been terrified of never having TK in his arms again. Now, the thought of letting him go scares him just as much, and TK seems to feel the same, if the way he’s clutching at Carlos’s jacket and pulling it tight across his back is any indication.

Carlos hugs him close, sinking down to his knees as TK falls into the chair behind him, letting the rest of the room fade away to nothing as he realises that they weren’t too late—that TK is here, with him, alive and mostly whole.

day eight: we'll hold each other soon for @221bsunsettowers

“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.

“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away.

It's the last good memory Carlos has, and he's going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he's going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK's smile.

day nine: now i am just but the wayward man for anon

Ben is glaring at him again.

Klaus is very familiar with this specific glare—it’s the one Ben breaks out when Klaus is being ‘stubborn’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘a fucking asshole junkie with no self-respect who only cares about the next high and, really, it’s a fucking miracle you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet, Klaus’.

He has to hand it to him. Ben really does have him down to a tee.

*

winter is approaching and klaus has nowhere to go. his siblings are his only option—meaning he effectively has no options.

day ten: i can't imagine my life without you for 📍 anon

It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.

“I think we need a break.”

*

nobody likes to be asked 'trouble in paradise?', particularly when the answer is yes.

day eleven: start again from the beginning for anon

Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.

But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.

day twelve: let me love you when your heart is tired for anon

TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—

But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.

If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.

day thirteen: couldn't utter my love when it counted for 📍 anon

TK takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.

Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.

But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken. For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.

That’s when the explosion rips through the building.

*

after the boba date, tk lets carlos go. they're friends, which is working just fine, until a horrific accident threatens to take even that away from them.

day fourteen: if i walk out the door (a thousand eyes) for anon

TK gets this feeling sometimes, a sort of prickling at his back, like someone’s behind him, breathing down his neck. At first, it was only a once-in-a-while situation, so he thinks nothing of it; when it becomes an everyday occurrence, he starts to wonder, but he’s probably just being paranoid. The shooting, kidnapping, firehouse explosion, and the fire at his and Carlos’s house had all taken their toll, and TK’s just generally more on edge these days.

He doesn’t tell anyone about the feeling, not even Carlos. There’s no reason to fuck up everyone else’s peace with something so stupid. It’ll go away eventually; TK’s sure of it.

That is, until one of the lots just down from the firehouse gets occupied.

day fifteen: find you here inside the dark for @fanfic-corner

Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.

If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—

Wait.

She can hear her now.

day sixteen: accidents happen for @ilovemosss

So, Jason reflects, it may not have been the best idea to take Pythagoras out training while they’re all suffering from a severe lack of sleep. Being the more logical of them, Pythagoras, to his credit, had attempted to talk him out of it, but Jason ignored him.

He very much regrets that decision now.

day seventeen: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team) for @laelipoo

TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.

Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.

That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.

(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the little blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)

(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)

day eighteen: in perfect harmony for @anyotherheartwilldo

Here’s the thing—Carlos doesn’t believe in signs. He used to when he was younger, raised on his abuela’s stories, but as he’d gotten older his father had taught him that what mattered was the choices he made. He’s the only one who has a say in the way his life turns out, and if he wants something, he has to put in the work to get it.

But there comes a point—namely, after his fifth thwarted attempt to propose to TK—when he begins to wonder if the universe really does have something against him.

*

proposing to tk proves far more complicated than carlos had first thought.

day nineteen: whatever here that's left of me (is yours) for anon

“Are you…” TK leans closer, peering at the hoodie Carlos is wearing, and—yep. “Why are you wearing my hoodie? Was there nothing in your size from the crew? You should have said something. We can fix this, you don’t need to be uncomfortable.”

There’s a beat, and then Carlos, studiously avoiding TK’s gaze, clears his throat. “It smells like you.”

*

post-2.12, carlos finds comfort in tk's hoodies.

day twenty: can't smile without you for anon

Carlos would be lying to himself if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before. He has always worried for TK’s safety, and the knowledge that a serial killer is on the loose in Austin has sent that worry skyrocketing. Especially because he’s the lead detective on the case; he’s spent hours poring over horrific crime scenes, examining all the facts until they’re burned into his brain.

Admittedly, the killers seem to be mostly indiscriminate in who they take, meaning the chances of it being TK are slim.

But there’s still a chance.

*

a before, during, and after of tk's kidnapping in a hole where your memory goes

day twenty-one: lately you've been searching for a darker place to hide for @freddieholic

“Can I ask you something else?”

TK stiffens at the sound of Mateo’s voice, a nervous note to it that wasn’t there last time. Something tells him he knows exactly what Mateo wants to ask; still, he turns to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as casually as he can manage. “Sure.”

“Are you…” Mateo trails off, biting his lip and avoiding TK’s gaze. “I mean, do you… I mean—”

“You can say it, you know,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “If you want to know if I’m thinking about heading out and getting high, then just ask.”

*

five times tk turns to unhealthy coping mechanisms when he wants to use + one time he finally asks for help

day twenty-two: know me crazy, soothe me daily for anon

It had freaked Carlos out the first time it happened.

“It was a seizure,” TK explained, after Carlos had finished telling him about it. TK had been disoriented and confused for about ten minutes after, and couldn��t even remember half of their earlier conversation. “I… It’s because of the drugs. They fucked something up in my brain, especially after my first overdose, and now I get seizures occasionally."

*

in which carlos gets a little over-protective and tk is mildly exasperated

day twenty-three: lover, be good to me for anon

Carlos holds his arms out, and TK comes willingly, setting what Carlos now recognises as a tray of food carefully on the bed. “What’s this?”

TK stares as if it’s obvious. “Date night.”

“What?”

TK pauses, then gasps. “You’re right.” He pats himself down frantically, then pulls an object out of his pocket with a dramatic flourish. It’s a little electric tea light—real candles long since banned from the bedroom—and Carlos watches in bemusement as TK flicks it on and sets it down on the tray. “Now it’s date night.”

*

his fiancé being bed-bound isn't going to keep tk from date night

day twenty-four: bring you in from the cold for anon

As a cop, Carlos has always been uncomfortably aware of his own mortality. He’s considered his own death more than is probably healthy, but when you’re facing down the barrel of a gun almost every single day, it’s kind of forced on you.

He’s imagined himself being shot, stabbed, strangled, and everything in between.

But he’s not sure he ever pictured dying in a walk-in freezer after getting trapped there by mistake.

day twenty-five: heaving through corrupted lungs for anon

TK is itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.

His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.

*

when carlos falls ill, they think it's just a bad cold. but when tk goes to check on him, he's in for a nasty shock.

day twenty-six: slowly becoming lovers for @pragmaticoptimist34

Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.

But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.

*

tk and carlos, getting to know each other and falling in love

day twenty-seven: and curse the gods for @girlwhowasntthere

Jason knows what it is to be cursed.

day twenty-eight: ignoring every warning for @moviegeek03

TK is fine.

He is absolutely, 100% fine.

And, sure, maybe he’s not supposed to be at work right now, and maybe his hand hasn’t fully healed yet, but it’s nothing. His doctor cleared him to go back to work, which means it’s healed enough, and TK is certainly not going to admit defeat no matter how much he's hurting.

day twenty-nine: can you beat back the night? for @girlwhowasntthere

He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.

It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.

*

this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.

day thirty: ease my mind for @silvarafael

Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.

Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.

Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.

Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.

day thirty-one: scars turn to memories for anon

Their front door is open. It’s wide open, and the wood of the door frame is broken, splinters littering the driveway and the floor of the front room. TK’s heart stops in his chest as he surveys the scene, his brain going blank, struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing.

Everything is quiet in the front room, not even a table setting out of place. TK creeps further into their home, his every nerve on edge as he barely breathes for fear of alerting whoever’s here of his presence.

And then, he remembers.

Carlos was off shift tonight. He was here. Alone.

[atlasshrugd]

Hi seeing as you seem to be the only sorta active britin blog I can find lol I wanted to ask you about some of your favourite moments for them, as I'm kinda new to the fandom whatevers around lol, and would like to hear peoples thoughts on them if you don't mind answering 😊

Hey there! Sorry I am answering so late, but WOW this is a big ask because there are SO many favorite moments.

So I have narrowed it down to my Top 5:

1. Prom (obviously)

Okay this is a no-brainer. This is literally the most romantic sequence in all of television history. I still have not found something more beautiful, moving, triumphant, loving, and groundbreaking than when Brian and Justin danced to 'Save the Last Dance for Me' at prom. Obviously barring the horrific events of what followed, this scene transcended all stereotypes and barriers and allowed us as the viewers to feel pure happiness and pride as queer people. I remember seeing it for the first time at 14 and feeling so unadulteratedly happy and validated. This was a scene of two gay people unapologetically showing the world that they did not give a shit what anyone thought of them. The only thing that mattered was this thing between them; this unspoken understanding, solace, love, and pride. I still moves me to this day whenever I watch it, no matter how many times I do.

And of course we must talk about the implications of Brian's character in this scene. Throughout season 1, he has been an emotionally stunted and cold individual who does not believe in love, relationships, or trying to make other people happy. Here, in the finale, we see Brian finally putting away all his ego bullshit ("I wouldn't be caught dead in a room full of 18 year olds"), and going out of his way to make someone he cares about happy. The fact that he even showed up at Justin's prom is a direct U-turn from the moral principles he has been reinforcing all season. And by dancing to a "ridiculously romantic" corny song, waltzing, and kissing Justin in front of everyone without giving a shit — that is pride. That is one of Brian's long-accustomed walls tumbling down.

"And don't forget whose taking you home and in whose arms you're gonna be..."

2. When they make love for the first time after the bashing

Now these scenes...how do I describe the sheer profundity? After Justin's bashing at prom, Brian is left in shambles. He blames himself for everything, and it is just further proof that Brian's love always causes further destruction. Justin has lost all memory of that night at prom, and this is one of the big tragedies. Justin had promised that he'd never forget it, and that it was the best night of his life. That proof of Brian's love that he had for so long been longing to experience — has disappeared as if it never happened. Now, Justin's confidence and surety of the world has been distorted. He is no longer sure of anything, including himself and Brian. He needs reassurance and things spelled out for him.

When Brian and Justin sleep together for the first time after the bashing, it is not like all the other times they had sex. This, in fact, is the first time they make love. Justin is telling Brian that he trusts him wholeheartedly, enough to allow him in his body again after his own agency had been ripped away from him. This is where Justin absolves Brian of his guilt. He takes the blood-stained scarf off his shoulders, lets it fall to the ground. He gives Brian the forgiveness that Brian cannot offer himself.

"Like the first time?" Brian asks, because it is the anniversary of their first meeting, but at the same time—it is nothing like the first time. Now, they are not strangers. They are more acquainted with each other than they have ever sought to be; know each other in such profound depths. They are forever linked by this thing they have both experienced, but it is not just that shared trauma. It is based off deep understanding and love. They have, somehow along the way, become more each other than themselves. They know that they have become irreplaceable and inseparable parts of each other. And Brian has been holding onto that guilt for so long that it has become rooted deeply within him. SO when Justin absolves him of it, Brian allows himself to truly feel for the first time since the bashing. He gives himself to Justin, in that moment, as Justin gives himself to Brian. It is a brilliant and tender scene of trust, devotion, acceptance, and absolution. Something they both needed to soothe their troubled souls, and a new basis for their relationship.

3. When Brian helps Justin walk down the street after the bashing

Again, this is Brian showing nurturing, care, patience, compassion, and selflessness to another person. Justin trusts him enough to rely on him, and Brian doesn't take this trust lightly. These are some of the sweetest scenes of the whole show, because this is when Brian is completely focused and devoted to Justin. He wants to help him, more than anything, to get better. And he accepts and takes up this role of carer, not because he has to, or because he is obligated or forced to. But because he will do anything to ensure that Justin will be okay, and that he gets the life he deserves.

Specifically, my favorite scene is when the song 'Grand pianos crash together, when my boy walks down the street...' is playing. Justin is walking through a crowd and Brian has his arms outstretched. When they come together, they hug deeply and easily. This scene is so simple and pure, so chaste, but it shows the true essence of their relationship, beyond all the facades and bells and whistles. At the heart of it, Brian and Justin care about each other more than they care about themselves. They have established a stable foundation of trust that they can rely on. And it also perfectly encapsulates just how far Brian has come once again. He is showing such selfless care and devotion to a boy in public daylight, kissing and hugging him and not wanting to let go of his hand. Season 1 Brian would have never even considered that. This just shows how much the events of the prom changed him, and shows how his desire for responsibility of another person has matured him. He had been forced to face his inner feelings, fears, and truths. Now, they are out in the open for the first time and Brian accepts this. This alone is a huge development.

Brian is also afraid to let go of Justin. When Justin says he can walk back himself and says 'Later,' Brian repeats it apprehensively as he holds Justin's hand until he can't anymore. Then, he watches Justin go, walking through the crowds. The look on his face is wistful, a little troubled. He hasn't wanted to face just how much he enjoys Justin's presence and how much happier and content he is when Justin is with him. He hasn't wanted to face just how afraid he is to lose Justin again. Their words of 'Later' are a direct mirror of their last words on prom night, just before Justin got bashed. Brian had watched Justin walk away, too. And a second later, he was gone.

4. Pride

This is probably one of my all-time favorite scenes in television ever. I have cried each time I've seen it. There is something so pure, essential, liberating, triumphant and tender about this scene, and the song that plays (Chiquitita by ABBA) certainly shows it. Firstly, Justin accepts Brian in his entirety and doesn't expect him to change. He knows how much Brian has been devoting to Justin in his recovery, and how strange that role is for Brian. Here, he tells Brian to 'go find a stud, ask him to dance,' — because he knows how much Brian has been sacrificing for him. This alone shows Justin's maturity and inner strength. He loves Brian, so he will not try to change him or shackle him. He wants Brian to be free to choose and live the way he wants, and that is what he fell in love with.

But when Justin shows this sacrifical and detached love for him, Brian realises that there is nothing he wants to do; no one he wants to be with more — than Justin. He is aware of the myriads of choices he has. But he chooses Justin. (Technically, for the first time, perhaps aside from prom. But even at prom, he had been running from something [turning 30]. Here, he chooses Justin without pressure for the first time.)

So, he follows him outside. He ask him "Hey, stud. Wanna dance?" Justin doesn't believe him at first, because he is not used to Brian choosing him by his own volition. He cannot imaging Brian passing up getting laid, especially after being celibate for the whole day. He also feels like a burden; like Justin's recovery has been inflicted on Brian, stopping him from living his life normally. Justin loves Brian enough to let him be free, but the biggest part? Brian loves Justin enough to choose him in that freedom.

So this marks another checkpoint in their relationship. Not only is there trust, understanding, and love — there is also desire. Sure, they have always desired each other. But this desire is not the physical kind or one born out of loneliness. This is desire for the other person as a whole. This is desiring another person's company because theirs is the only company you want. This is desiring to be with someone when there are so many other options. This is real desire — the kind that originates from the heart and not the flesh.

"I promise you won't forget this one." Brian is promising Justin that this dance will be theirs, just theirs. Not to stick it to anyone, to show anyone anything, to make some kind of point, or to make somebody happy. This dance is theirs, for the reason that Brian wants Justin to have this: this moment where Brian only wants Justin, where he dances with him simply because he wants to. And he wants Justin to have this memory, to overcome all the vague blurriness of their past. He wants this dance to be the one he remembers when he questions himself. And so they dance, and they sway, and they kiss, and they press their heads together, and the lights are bright and colored on Liberty Avenue, and everywhere people are free and joyful, and there is nothing to prove, no one to run from, nothing to hide. Their arms are wrapped around each other and the sound of 'You'll be dancing once again...and the pain will end...you will have no time for grieving...' tumbles through the air and all around them. 'But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you.' Now: there is nothing to be afraid of, and everyday life is full of reasons to be alive. To be proud.

5. Their reunification

This is one of their main checkpoints. This scene is the moment they finally become equals. Justin had left Brian for the reason that Brian could not give him what he needed to be happy, which was: reassurance. After the bashing, Justin lost all sense of who he was. There was a huge gap in his memory, therefore a huge part of himself he could not claim. He had lost partial use of his dominant hand which took away the only thing that gave him solace; his drawing ability. He was no longer sure of anything and needed things spelled out for him. He needed to talk about it. 

But Brian was not willing to do that, because he himself was struggling with trauma from the incident that he did not want to face. Where his love language is in acts of service (letting Justin live with him, paying for his tuition, helping him recover) — Justin needed to hear the words. He needed verbal affirmation to prove that he wasn't crazy and just projecting his feelings onto Brian. He could no longer trust his own perception and interpretation of things whereas in the past he could read Brian's mixed signals easily without needing confirmation. This is the part Brian failed to understand. He was not willing to concede his identified notions of 'relationships' and 'love' — no matter how far he came. He had not accepted that his feelings for Justin were love, and that scared him. So he refused to compromise with Justin, believing that his actions were enough when they weren't. But all Justin needed was to be heard, and for someone to love him enough to give hime what he needed sometimes (which was, verbal and emotional affirmation).

So their relationship ended, and Justin thought he could get what he needed from Ethan, which proved to be another big lie. So at the end, Justin still cannot trust his own perception, but — he finally knows what he wants.

He comes to the realization that while Brian could not give him the words, he gave him honesty. He learned from Ethan that words without action had no meaning. So he prioritized what mattered more to him: hearing that Brian loved him? Or, knowing that Brian loved him. So he chose honesty.

And this is when they could get back together without that imbalance and insecurity.

"And you are never to play violin music in my presence again." This single line is the only thing Brian needed to say to indicate to Justin that he was hurt by Justin leaving. Brian has been putting up a front of indifference for their entire break up, only indulging in pain management in private. Justin leaving him irrefutably hurt him more than he could have ever anticipated. But he did not show it.

So, Justin smiles — a little nod of awareness — because that is all Brian needed to say. And he says, "I promise."

"And it's time...that we...grow old and so some shit..." plays in the background (Lover's Spit) as they start to undress each other, because they are now on the same playing field. They have no illusions, misunderstandings, and misinterpretations anymore. They are starting anew; a little older and a little wiser than before. Brian knows how painful it is to lose Justin. Justin knows how skewed his perception had been, because he had been so caught up in his isolation that he could not see the truth of Brian's actions.

But they both know at least one thing: that life is better together than apart.

Tbh I could go ON and write a dissertation about each of these individual scenes, but I hope this made sense and gave a little more insight on these scenes and characters. Thank you for the great question!

[spicycreativity]

Intertwined - Chapter 1

Rating: Teen

Content Warnings: It's a hanahaki fic, so. Mild body horror, blood, respiratory illness. (Starts at Ch 3 and gets worse from there).

Characters: All

Pairing: Moceit

Additional Notes: This one was supposed to be Darker and Longer, but turns out I'm not in the headspace to write angst atm, so it ends up moving p fast. Swaps between Janus and Patton's POVs. Post-PoF, light angst. Not whump. They both get hanahaki, but there is absolutely no version of Moceit in my mind where Janus isn't the one who falls first. My AO3 username is WizatdGlick.

Summary: The story of how Janus and Patton find each other at rock bottom and fall in love anyway.

A gentle knock on Janus' door drew him out of his thoughts. He donned a mask of triumph as he rose to open it, straightening his hat as he went. It couldn't be Remus; Remus never knocked so softly, which meant that Janus had to perform. He slid into the role with difficulty, struggling to find the edges of this gloating persona when all he felt was numb and tired and lost.

It was Patton at the door, and Janus felt everything slip, and Patton's eyes lit up with recognition, and all of Janus' resolve fell away in the face of that beseeching gaze.

"Come for another debate?" Janus asked in a low voice, making no effort to hide his ironical smile.

Patton smiled too, though he dropped it a moment too soon. Janus got the distinct impression that Patton was also far too wrung-out to put on any kind of act tonight. "Just came to check on you."

It would be as natural as breathing for Janus to draw back, place his fingertips delicately to his chest, widen his eyes. ' Check on me?' he would say, all faux-innocence, ' Please, Patton, I'm not a child. I don't need your pity.'

But he didn't.

Here was Patton, reaching out, and hadn't that been what Janus had wanted all along? That tiny, fervent flame that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge, that smallest ember of hope that someone might just give him what he was convinced he had to take.

The seconds stretched out until the silence verged on awkward, and Janus' pride stood up to do what his cunning would not: "I'm fine." He was fine, strangely. Not happy, as he perhaps should have been, but nothing hurt.

Patton's brow furrowed. "Am I supposed to believe that?" he asked gently.

Something warm and soft and dangerous bloomed in Janus' chest at Patton's look of confusion. He had freckles on his nose, scattered like spilled cinnamon: a trait assigned by Thomas’ subconscious. "Patton," Janus said, flicking his gaze upwards to meet Patton's eyes. "Would you like to come in?"

"To your room ?" Patton asked, eyes widening. He looked past Janus' shoulder and Janus fought not to move and block Patton's gaze with his body. He had just invited Patton in; there was no point getting shy now. "Won't that, y'know, do something to me?"

"It's just a matter of self-control," Janus said, hoping to get a smile out of Patton.

Sure enough, Patton did smile. "What color is my shirt?"

Janus said, "True blue," and stepped backwards to let Patton in.

It was a risk to bring someone into his room like this, but he felt unusually clear-headed tonight, calm and strangely secure despite the fact he had just let a known enemy past his defenses, and despite the exhaustion that made every breath feel heavy.

"Warm in here," Patton remarked, looking around.

Janus motioned him over to a set of armchairs. To be seen was to be judged, and he wasn't sure what he would do if Patton found him lacking again . "I have a question for you, Patton."

In the low light, the tear tracks on Patton's cheeks glimmered when he tilted his head inquisitively. "You do?"

Janus nodded, slow and calculated. He was sure he already knew the answer to the question, and preemptive anger bubbled thick and hot in his veins. "Who," he said, unable to keep from glaring, "came to check on you?"

"Well," said Patton, "Ah… They don't-- Everyone's upset right now--"

"And you're not?" Janus demanded. "And don't you dare tell me that you're fine." His emotions were running too hot; he needed to check himself, but seeing Patton make excuses filled him with a passion he'd only ever felt on Thomas' behalf.

"I am--"

"Don't."

"But I have to be," Patton whispered. "I can't-- I know they told me… They said it was okay for me to be sad, but--"

"If you fall apart, there's no one there to pick up the pieces," Janus guessed. "Sure, you can be sad, as long as it doesn't interfere with your role."

"Don't be mad at them," Patton pleaded, and Janus realized with a jolt that he would get into no one's good graces by slinging around insults.

"It's just hard," Janus said plainly, only half-noticing the words coming out of his mouth. He had just become aware of a keen and sickening new desire, borne on the back of a newfound respect for Patton that he had even lasted this long without having some sort of spectacular breakdown. Janus' whole chest ached with it, that and the equally sickening knowledge that he had just become horrifically vulnerable, that he had fallen under a spell he could never hope to break.

He saw it in his mind's eye: he saw himself stand and lean over, take Patton's jaw in his hands, kiss him long and deep and slow. He saw himself lay his body and soul bare before Patton, getting on his knees to forgive Patton all his perceived flaws. He meant well, after all. He only ever meant well, and it wasn't really his fault that those good intentions were capable of morphing into a cruel and deadly weapon.

But he would plunge that weapon straight into Janus' heart before their lips could ever even meet. Janus could see it now, Patton pulling away in confusion and disgust. His tenuous patience would give out then and there, and Janus would have no hope of acceptance ever again. Same for Remus, probably. They would remain Dark Sides forever, damned to be eternal outcasts. All thanks to Janus' pathetic inability to control himself.

"Why do you care so much about…" Patton hesitated for a moment and gave a shallow sigh. "Well, about me?"

And now Janus found himself walking a chasm’s edge. His instinct was to lean hard into the opposite of the truth and insult Patton so deeply that he left and never came back. Eliminate the threat. But that wasn't an option now of all times. No, he had to maintain a friendship with Patton, somehow. He had to keep himself under control. How fun. "You're a part of Thomas," Janus said. He paused.

"So are the others."

"You've earned my respect."

"Oh," said Patton. "Wow, um. Gosh, that's…" His lower lip trembled. "I should go," he said in a broken voice.

Janus surveyed him in silent agony, teetering on the precipice of a lie. With a monumental effort, he pulled himself away from it and opened his arms. "Come here."

The floodgates opened. Patton fell into Janus' lap, already sobbing. Janus held him, all his muscles stiff and awkward. He was much smaller in the mindscape than he was in Thomas’ eyes and it was difficult to support Patton’s much larger frame. A sharp pain flared in Janus’ collarbone where Patton had buried his forehead and his tears were already starting to seep through Janus' clothes. He cringed at himself and the absurdity of the situation, wishing he had some way to make it better. He should have had words for this, all the right words to soothe away Patton's worries and set him right again. But he was so tired.

"I'm s-s-sorry," Patton said through shuddering sobs that dug his forehead harder into Janus' clavicle.

"It's okay," Janus said, concentrating hard on keeping the effects of his room at bay.

"Are you--" Patton sniffled " --sure you're okay?"

A rush of affection melted Janus' heart and he sighed and held Patton closer despite the shooting pain in his collarbone and the ache in his arms. Even in the midst of a post-breakdown breakdown, Patton was self-sacrificing (self- destructive) enough to check in on him. "You don't have a selfish bone in your body, do you?" Janus sighed, lamenting Patton’s bleeding heart. For some reason, this only made Patton cry harder. Janus cast his mind back to the last time Remus was this upset, found nothing, had to speculate. He and Remus and Virgil were self-sufficient, secretive. When it came to personal crises, they weathered them alone and bore the aftermath in stoicism. "Do you want me to play with your hair?"

"I don't know," Patton sobbed into Janus' chest.

Janus sighed and began to run his fingers through Patton's honey-colored hair, grateful that the thick material of his gloves kept their skin from touching. It was better this way, and a good reminder for Janus. He guarded his heart so closely for a reason.

 

Janus, despite the discomfort from the awkward weight distribution and the clammy feeling of cooled tears on his shirt, was half-asleep in the chair by the time Patton stopped crying.

"Sorry," Patton said, pulling away, and even with snot and tears all over his flushed cheeks, even with his eyes all red and puffy behind his fogged-up glasses and his hair standing up at strange diagonals from Janus' attempts at comfort, he was radiant.

"For having feelings?" Janus asked, gently imaging himself into a new, dry shirt.

"For making them your problem." Patton took his glasses off and began to polish them on the hem of his own shirt.

"Patton, I need you to know this." Janus waited until Patton looked at him before continuing, "I owe you nothing. If I had wanted you to leave, I would have asked you to leave and thought nothing of it."

Patton nodded and went back to polishing his glasses. They were silent for a long moment, during which Janus found himself unable to suppress a series of yawns. It must have been around 4:00 in the morning by this point. They had to have been the only ones awake.

"Hey, Janus," Patton said, finally putting his glasses back on. "You know The Breakfast Club?"

"Yes," Janus said distractedly, trying to figure out where Patton was going with this.

"This wasn't our version of that, was it?"

"What do you mean?"

"When tomorrow comes and we're back to, to some sort of normal… You'll still be my friend, right?"

Now here was a situation Janus had never once envisioned for himself. He had pictured winning over Roman, had pictured gaining Thomas' support. Never once had he expected real friendship with any of them, let alone Patton. "Yes," he said, feeling sick at the irony of it. He had been comfortable as Patton's enemy, was now yearning for his kiss… How could he be friends with Patton when he burned like this for Patton's wholehearted affection? Was he really just supposed to endure it?

Patton smiled, so sweet and earnest that Janus had to bite down on his tongue. "Good," he said. "Speaking of, do you wanna have breakfast with me?"

"Not right now, I hope," Janus teased.

"No, no, not right now." Patton muffled a yawn into his sleeve. "I guess I'd better go."

Janus nodded. "See you in the morning?"

"Um," said Patton, who didn't appear to have been listening. "Thank you, Janus. You didn't have to-- Well, thank you."

He sank out without another word.

Janus imagined himself into his pajamas, imagined the lights off and threw himself onto his bed. "Fuck."

 

--

 

Frigid air seeped from the hallway seeped under the crack where Janus' door stopped just short of the carpet. He didn't allow himself to notice, and continued to put his outfit on piece by agonizing piece. The cold air made his joints slow and achy, and he struggled to get the clasps done up. It was just as well that he hadn't put on his gloves yet. He had become quite adept at handling things while wearing them, but for this task, the bulky fabric would only get in the way. After all, just like his singular snake fang, his gloves were for aesthetics, not function.

Finally, he donned his hat and faced the door, forced to confront that fatal truth: He could never have what he wanted. The moment he had achieved his goal of Thomas’ acceptance, the triumph had slipped away in his hands to be replaced with a truly unattainable goal.

Memories from last night, the phantom sensation of Patton in his arms, teased him until he had to sneer at himself. Pathetic. He was acting pathetic. Falling for Patton was strategically inadvisable, even if he couldn’t help it, but actively pursuing him was out of the question. It was all-risk, no reward. Still, his treacherous heart fluttered, teasing him with the thought of Patton’s lips on his own, Patton’s hands on his body, sharing heat, deepening the kiss--

“All risk,” Janus said out loud to himself, “no reward.” A mantra to see him through. He opened his door, his gloved hand slipping a little on the polished brass of his doorknob, and nearly walked straight into Remus as he passed by with an armful of dismembered dolls.

“Well,” said Janus, tilting his head to better examine the pile of plastic limbs and bodies in Remus’ arms, “I won’t ask what you’re up to.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand, visualizing a piping hot cup of coffee. A shudder wrecked his concentration and he frowned. “Are you the reason it’s so cold in here?”

Remus ignored the question, his feverish eyes darting from Janus’ mouth to his hand to his face. “I knew you were up late last night. That’s why I came this way.” He gave a crooked but strangely boyish grin. “I wanted to know where you’d gotten off to. Or who you’d gotten off with. ”

Janus, to his horror, blushed. Fragmented images flashed through his head-- What if he had kissed Patton? And Patton had kissed back? Mask, mask, mask! “I was spreading the Gospel.”

“You were spreading something , though, weren’t you?” Remus shifted the dolls in his arms and held up a masculine torso. “I know I heard Big Daddy’s voice. Play a little game of Patton- Snake , did you?”

Janus swore he could hear porcelain cracking as his heart began to race. “In all seriousness, Remus, we did reach an agreement.”

“Sounds like you reached more than that.” Remus waggled his tongue.

God, he was relentless when he was on the scent of something. Janus hid his face behind his hands, realizing a moment too late that this display of shame would only add fuel to the fire. So he took the only option left and muttered, “Boundaries,” into his palms.

“Oh,” said Remus, leaning back on his heels. “ Oh. Janus, you didn’t .”

“Of course we didn't!” Janus hissed, dropping his hands.

"But you wanted to?"

“How much did you hear yesterday, anyway?”

“Oh, I heard the whole debacle, including that heartwarming little moment at the end,” Remus said, rocking forward onto his toes. “Thanks for putting in a good word for me, by the way.”

They fell into an awkward silence as Janus once again reached for words that simply weren’t there. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, cursing himself.

“No?” said Remus. “Not even a teeny tiny little bit?” He poked Janus in the chest with the plastic torso, still clenched in his left hand. “Right here?”

“You,” said Janus, “are just as evil as I am.”

Remus backed off with a grin, leaving Janus in doubt that he had ever even been angry in the first place. “So where are you off to now? Roman’s got this place awfully cold; gonna go warm Patton’s snake?”

“You already made a ‘Patton snake’ joke,” Janus said, slamming another mask onto his face to hide his blush. “But to answer your question, he asked me to join him for breakfast.”

“Aww.” Remus wiped fake tears from his cheeks. “You better not start spending too much time with him or I’m going to get jealous.”

[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Her eyes, the stars - Bucky Barnes x Reader (Steve Rogers x Reader)

[I know, I am a ghost. Sorry guys. Enjoy.]

The reminiscence of a rose - the single flower that’s so impossible to hate, delicate and pretty, even when it stops blooming. Her voice could calm even the most chaotic oceans, always soothing with soft notes of comfort. Even her eyes could mesmerize the most soulless creature; her sweet face left him dreaming in heartache. On the nights his loneliness stung him harder than cheap liquor; he was always thinking of her. For he reveled in the memory of her heart placed on his hands. As he tried to get drunk on other people’s skin. Yet all that regret still burned his chest. And he realized that he once had the best. Since she loved his highs and lows. He thought about what he once held. He regretted leaving her. But she deserved more than his pettiness and demeanor.

She begged herself to stop loving him.She hated herself for all the mistakes she had made, all those wrong decisions - she blamed him for he made her vulnerable. He was the sun, never really committed to one planet, always dancing around the universe, with bright colors revealing themselves, leaving her in awe. Her heavy blues of night opened to reveal the chariot of the sun lighting up the sky with various shades of yellow and gold. The feeling was almost theatrical and the dramatic intensity was palpable. How could they end up in the same sky, when he was the sun and she was always so fond of the night? They were just celestial objects, trying to find the one perfectly still moment, so they could co-exist in harmony without worrying about nature's balance. That moment had passed them by, ignoring their desperate attempts to escape the chaotic force.She was a whole universe in motion - he had guessed that was why she seemed so tired lately...It must be an exhausting, yet beautiful thing to brush the orbits of all the universes she walked by. He had tried to stop thinking that he made her so unhappy. He couldn't. Instead, he tried to understand her a bit better than before, to get close to her, without hurting her. Again. She was no pawn in his game, she was clever and cunning - but just to hide her true self.

"You think you can define me, that I am a tick in just one box. Like my being is a door that a single key unlocks. But let me tell you something - something I figured out after you broke me. I have the universe inside, I hold an untamed ocean with a constantly changing tide. I'm home to endless mountains with tips that touch the sky, flocks of grand migrating birds and deserts harsh and dry. Please, don't tell me that you know me. That "this right here is what you are", trying to get an old and very dead version of me back. I am the universe in motion, for I was born from the stars" she was talking to him, trying to make a point, to seem sure about what she had become - but she was scared of her heart. Oh, the things it made her do. He wasn't taken aback, which surprised her. He was looking into her eyes, watching the soft colors of the sky fooling around with the dark strokes of her irises. It was true, her eyes held the stars. She closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the swirling feelings inside her. She felt every single cell of her body begging for her to forgive him - there was nothing to forgive, really, for he had done nothing wrong. It was her that could not - would not - handle things. She never saw herself in a relationship - so many obligations. She was not made for ballgowns and parties but for battlefields and saddles.

"I am yours, forever yours… and when the last star of the universe blinks silent, I will still be yours", his answer came naturally to him. It was the most sincere thing he had ever said. He knew her as a sea breeze, but now she met her as a hurricane. So he knew, she needed to be alone. She had been craving freedom so long and he had been blind. He was a liar- he lied to her, to the entire world, to his own self. He wasn't the Golden Boy, people made him to be. He had hurt her in ways he couldn't have imagined before. She softly smiled to his words, because she knew he was being honest. Once upon a time, everything was magical and they were found themselves walking through a chaotic paradise. The entire multi-universe had changed.

"I might have been too harsh, Stevie. Truth is that this, us, has turned to dust right after we were defeated. Five years now, we have been foolish enough to try and make things work. We have been lying to everyone, we want them to move on and be alright when I know that all those sleepless nights we have been thinking of a way to make everything as it was. I also know, and please do not try to deny it, that you are not mine. Not really, not entirely, not ever. For you, it's always gonna be Peggy. Accepting that, was the hardest thing I have ever done". His face twisted in a guilty way. Everything she had experienced for the first time, had been with him. It hurt her but she would move on, find someone else to make her feel alive again.

"I... I am sorry. I love you, you should know that. It's just. I can't shake the feeling… I am so sorry" he calmly apologized to her. He couldn't control his heart.

" And I love you. You can't unlove someone. You can, however, become just friends with them. I wouldn't want to lose you from my life. So... Hey dude" she tried to change the dark and painful situation into something less... 

It all happened so quickly and slow at the same time. It was a disaster and a triumph. Everyone came back - well, not everyone. Once she laid eyes on Bucky, she ran like hell and almost knocked him down as she enveloped him in a bone-crushing hug. How she had missed him - her best friend, companion and well...it would take her a while to admit it but there were butterflies, even though she did push them away every time, convincing herself that it was nothing more.

"I missed you Jay, so damn much" was all that she managed to say before Steve called them to assemble. 

They won. And they lost. All thanks to the amazing Tony Stark. After a horrific scene of Thanos wearing the gauntlet and snapping his fingers - only to realize that Tony had stolen them right on time - everyone's heart fell and crushed and burnt. Yes, Tony defeated Thanos but at what cost?

He had always been the only father figure she knew- if she thought that standing against him with the Sokovian Accords was devastating, this was torture.

When things slowed down, Steve looked at her for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. Her porcelain-like skin was bruised, stained and twisted forming a pained mask, her hands were trembling and she was leaning against his best friend- why was this the first time he was noticing the look on Bucky's face? Why was this the first time he felt that his friend craved to be more than a friend to her? 

Life has a strange way of revealing her secrets, a dark sense of humor. It goes on, like a circular river, never-ending, never resting. After the simple ceremony to honor Tony's memory, she took a step back, asking for a few weeks off of the team to help Pepper and Morgan. All she wanted was to feel normal again. One more task before that though.

Seconds before Steve stepped into that platform to be teleported back in time, she called for him. He knew it and so did she. She had seen it in his eyes after they had mourn Natasha. In all honesty, she understood why - he deserved the life that was taken away from him, without asking him if he liked the alternative options. Bucky knew it. He knew it when he saw him on the blood-stained battlefield. He felt it in their hug. He also knew that she knew- he was the one both her and Steve had asked for help before Thanos. He was the one who swallowed his feelings for her and gave her a friendly shoulder to rest her head. "Thank you" Steve mouthed to her. She smiled, eyes covered in tears threatening to spill. "Go".And he was gone. Bucky gave her hand a gentle squeeze and she turned to face him. Unknown him, she had become aware of his feelings. And her own, slowly but steadily. "A soul that carries empathy is a soul which has survived enormous pain" she softly whispered as if she didn't want to be heard. He felt that she could read his mind. All those years ago, another Bucky had existed- one who flirted shamelessly with everyone. He had to get in touch with him if he wanted a chance with her, he thought, only to be proven wrong after a while. He just had to be himself. 

She had finally realized that Steve and her were exactly like the moon and the sun- and their time together was an eclipse, a breathtaking phenomenon, a glimpse of what it could have been. A moment. And that was okay. She regretted nothing. It was perfect in its imperfection.

She found herself knocking Bucky's door, not knowing why. All she wanted was to see the stars but somehow when she was greeted by sliver blue eyes, the stars seemed inefficient. He was the night, she thought.

"Can I stay here for a while?"... because I am scared when I am alone? He opened up his door to let her get inside because he knew the part of the sentence that left unsaid. His room was warm with a serene view of the night sky. He knew that she loved to gaze the stars, how she would always complain that the moon was a hypocrite. But not tonight. She felt gravitated towards him which made him blush, thankful for the darkness. To say that he hadn't wished for a moment with her, it would be a lie. He was pulled towards her like a magnet and in all honesty, he didn't want to leave far away and get over her.

"Can't sleep?" he asked her in a hushed tone as he laid to his bed, eyes watching her every move. She let a tired chuckle and sat down next to him. He pierced her eyes and she felt naked - and she didn't mind. It was okay for him to see her in all her doomed glory.

"Jay, its past midnight and I’ve pretty much thought of all the words hoping to find something that can remedy this... I can try but my vocabulary falls short when it comes to describing the matters of my heart. My heart. Not yours - mine. I could fill pages about the likes and dislikes of your heart. What makes you tremble what softens you up. I know you like the back of my hand. I know your anger and I know your vulnerability. Vulnerability…. what does that even mean? I guess it happens when you finally take the leap to open up to one who might not ever see you the same again. I guess that your weakness is not supposed to be a different form of feeling when it comes to me. And it isn't. I guess that attachments don’t exist between the two of us. But it does. And I guess, well I guess, that I love you a bit more each day and bit less on the days you choose to ignore me. No, wait, that's a lie. And I know that this is way too forward and yes, he was, is, your best friend, and my ex, which can be a bit awkward -  but you know what? He made a choice, but not before I do. I had already fallen for you and if it's weird -" he did not let her finish. The words coming from hee mouth were burning fires inside his head, for years now. His lips were ever so gently upon hers. It almost didn't feel like a kiss.

In the end, everyone wanted to be like Icarus, hoping to fly high and soar far. Nobody was satisfied with their standing and kept pushing their limits. And that was human...  full of life, blinded, arrogant, wonderful... always falling in the end. But not every fall hurts. She landed softly on his lips, her hands caressing his face and his were holding her tight as if she was a dream and he would soon wake up.

He was the stars and she was the moon. Finally, it worked.

'From stars we came, to stars we'll return and in the middle is all we are'

[setsumisanfics-blog]

Snapshots (Pyron/Jun oneshot)

A fic by Setsumi-san

Disclaimer: I do not own Shaman King in any way, shape, or form. All I own is the plot.

A.N. This story takes place just after Ren defeats Tao En. Words in italics indicate thoughts.

Tao Jun let out a loud sneeze as a great cloud of dust billowed into her face. She had just opened the door to the filthy attic of the family mansion and had several kyonshi marching behind her. Her mother had requested that she supervise the task of organizing and sweeping the attic. This was not going to be a pleasant chore.

Oh well, she thought, At least the kyonshi will be doing all of the heavy labor. All I have to do is manage them. 

Still, there were a hundred other things she would rather be doing at the moment. The young dao-shi walked inside and felt around for a light switch. Her palms made soft thumping noises against the attic wall as she groped it blindly. Ah, there it was!

Click! With a flip of the wrist Jun turned on the single bare bulb that lit up the whole attic. She rubbed her eyes, let herself adjust to the sudden brightness, and then turned to the many kyonshi still waiting outside of the attic's entrance.

"All of you get rid of this clutter. Pack it up, shove it aside, do what you must. But do a good job. I won't tolerate anything half-hearted," she commanded them. 

Automatically her workers obeyed like rusty robotic drones. The young lady plopped down on a nearby cardboard box and frowned in irritation. These zombies were so dull! Why should she have to watch them when they never made mistakes?

"What can I do for you, Miss Jun?" a familiar voice asked.

Jun turned around and saw her loyal mochirei Lee Pyron walking inside. A small smile appeared on her face. Pyron's presence always made her happy.

Well not all zombies are dull, she thought. Pyron was not a mindless minion but a dear companion. Maybe this wasn't going to be so boring after all. It would be nice to have him by her side while she…well, while she did anything.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to. I have plenty of help. I'd hate to take up any of your time," Jun said.

"Nonsense. I have all the time in the world. I am happy to do you favors," insisted Pyron.

"Aren't you practicing your Daodan-do skills at all?"

"I have been, but I can't do it all of the time. Daodan-do is not all physical. I seek to better myself overall through its philosophy. Being better as a whole means helping others, even if it is something as simple as cleaning up an attic."

Jun stood up feeling satisfied. "You're right. Two are better than one. I'll work alongside you," she said to him. 

She began to straighten up the junk next to her, classifying everything and packing it into large piles. Pyron knelt beside his mistress and helped her in silence for a few minutes. A strange, awkward feeling soon overcame him.

Say something you fool, Pyron mentally scolded himself.

 Ever since Jun's brother Ren had defeated the two siblings' father the strong fighter had carried a great burden on his shoulders. It was one of guilt and shame because he knew he could not protect the lovely Jun from all of the intense pain she had endured in that horrific dungeon. Even though he was being controlled it was no excuse. Since that battle Pyron felt awful knowing he was not there for the beautiful Jun…

Lovely? Beautiful? Since when do I think of Tao Jun like that? he wondered. He pushed all worries to the back of his mind and began a new conversation.

"So…how long has it been since you were last up here in this room?" he asked. It wasn't the most interesting topic, but it broke the silence.

Jun paused a moment as she folded a thin scarf in her lap and thought.

"Roughly five years," she answered. Pyron's eyes widened a little in surprise.

"Really? That long? Has anyone else been up here during all that time?"

"Ha, ha. I doubt it. The attic is just a place you forget about. It's like leftover food that no one wants."

The kyonshi grinned. "I remember such a place at one of my old childhood homes: the garage. My father would be building a bookshelf, or a toolshed, or whatever his latest project was; and he would tell me to get a can of paint from the garage. I hated going in there."

"Why did you hate it Pyron?"

He sheepishly twiddled his thumbs for a second. "Well…besides the fact that it was hot and musty…I discovered my greatest fear there. When I was six years old I had gone into the garage one time to get paint, as usual, when I felt something scamper across my foot. I darn near screamed my head off! It was…" –here he shuddered a moment- "…It was a lizard. From then on I went hysterical with fear every time I saw one of those…things."

Jun tried very hard to conceal her laughter. It wasn't working. Her cheeks puffed out like two peach-colored cotton balls from under her hand. To think the legendary tough-as-nails Lee Pyron would be frightened by a tiny lizard!

Pyron cringed a little in embarrassment. "Are you laughing at me Miss Jun? You know, it's not a nice feeling to have scaly green feet run over you," he murmured in a slightly pouty tone. 

Well, with that Jun let her laughter finally spill out. The way he said the last sentence was so cute! It was as though a shy little boy were speaking.

She sobered quickly. "I'm sorry Pyron. But I can't help but laugh when I think about someone as strong as you being scared of…ha ha ha ha ha! Ha…oh damn! I need to find where I left the masking tape in here so we can seal the boxes." 

The graceful girl got up off of the floor and started looking in a crowded corner.

"Be careful," Pyron warned, "You don't want to trip over-". Too late.

Before he finished his sentence Jun stumbled over something on the hard wooden floor that she could not see. All at once there was a bright flash of white light, a click, and a loud whirring noise from below. She shut her eyes, lost her balance, and felt herself whirl in a complete circle.

If one is blind the sensation of falling can be very terrifying. You forget where you are and who's around you. Time loses all meaning. All you can grasp is the present fear of uncertainty. Tao Jun was experiencing the uncertainty of a blind person's fall.

She'll break her back! was the first thing Pyron thought. Instinctively, he ran towards her like a bolt of lightning. Jun! Oh no, Jun! Don't fall before I can reach you! I swear I'll catch you! 

He shot out his large, muscular arm toward her. Jun felt an iron grip around her wrist save her. Catching herself on her foot's edge, she found herself tripping forward instead of back. When she finally opened her eyes she felt her face against Pyron's chest.

"Oh…" was the first word out of her mouth. She blushed furiously. She had never been this close to a man physically even if he was dead. What? What am I thinking? Pyron could never be like that to me! But he's so warm-hearted. I feel lightheaded.

If the zombie were still alive his heartbeat would have been like hammer blows. The porcelain doll in his arms was so delicate. He wanted to hold this forbidden treasure forever, but knew he had to release her sometime. He gave her a few pats on the back that said an unspoken, "It's alright." Then they slowly parted.

"A-Are you okay?" Pyron stuttered to the priestess, embarrassed. Jun nodded quickly.

"I'm…just a little dizzy," she replied. Another long pause passed. Only the noise of the other kyonshi could be heard as they slaved away. Jun tried to speak again, but nothing came out. All she could do was stare at the mighty oak tree of a man before her. Lee Pyron was breathtaking.

Once again Pyron felt the need to break the ice so he asked her what she tripped over. Shaking herself out of a stupor; Jun looked down and saw something that had not been used in the family for years: an old camera. It was the kind with a large flashbulb that took only black and white film. People in 1910 would have used it all the time.

"I can't believe this still works! I thought my grandfather threw it out years ago," Jun murmured in awe. She picked up the camera and fondled it with her slender fingers.

"Does it mean a lot to you?" asked Pyron. His mistress did not answer at first; the antique still seemingly enchanted her to no end. "Miss Jun?" he said in a slightly louder voice. She slowly turned toward him with a sad expression on her face.

"Did the camera mean a lot to me? Yes and no. I have a lot of mixed feelings about this thing. On one hand I was fascinated with it because it was one of the more modern machines our family owned. My father didn't like to have many complicated things that ordinary humans used. He said they would poison the mind. Since such things were usually forbidden Ren and I naturally became drawn to it. Can you understand?" Jun said softly. 

Her mochirei could not, but nodded anyway. Why would anyone treat a camera like it was an apple from the Garden of Eden? There was still so much he had to learn about the Taos.

She continued, " On the other hand every time I see the camera I'm reminded of the photos it took. Ren and I would always be standing at attention like soldiers in the army. If you look back at our past photos you would never see us smile. Anyone else would, but not us. To this day I feel silly when someone asks me to smile for a picture. I wish I didn't."

Suddenly Pyron became filled with a fierce determination to cheer her up. He didn't know why but he just had to! He boldly took Jun's hand in his own and smiled.

"Miss Jun," he began, "You have been working very hard. Why don't you take a break? I'll…take it with you if you want me too." 

Please say yes. Please say yes. I'll do anything if you just let me come with you, he silently begged.

"I…would like that very much…very much," she said. She colored prettily and the two went downstairs not even aware they were holding hands the whole time.

SNAAAAAARRRRRKKKK!  That was the ear-splitting noise heard from a small room two floors downstairs. Jun and Pyron had been scared out of their wits when they first heard it. It sounded like a wild animal was loose in the house. However, it was no wild animal. They had quietly peeked into the little room and then let out a sigh of relief and exasperation.

"Ren…" Jun muttered under her breath. Her little brother was sprawled out on a couch snoring his head off. A small waterfall of drool was cascading out of the side of his mouth into a little pool.

An idea popped into Pyron's head when he saw this scene. He smirked mischievously.

"Hand me that camera Miss Jun," he whispered to her.

"Why? What are you going to do with it?" she whispered back.

"You'll see," he said. He held it up to his face, leaned down to Ren's own, and put his finger above the flash button.

"Pyron, no!" Jun hissed. Ren would be furiously angry if he were woken up like that!

Click! Flash! Whir! The martial artist had pressed the button causing the flash to go off. Tao Ren woke up startled, snorting, and blinking his eyes. What the…? What happened? Why am I seeing spots?! Can't a man get any rest around here?! He rubbed his eyes and looked around but saw no one in the room. Muttering a few vulgar things in Chinese Ren rolled over on the couch. He knew someone was messing with him and they would pay…after forty winks.

Meanwhile Pyron and Jun were running as fast as possible down the hall. The two rushed out onto a balcony and nearly collapsed on the ground panting. Pyron was laughing heartily but Jun was not so pleased.

"You… (pant)…you fool! My brother needs all the rest he can get! He is working like a dog so that he may become Shaman King and here you are playing pranks on him! I would think youwould be more mature," she said in between breaths.

Pyron looked as though he'd been slapped for a second. He turned his face away from her and mumbled something inaudible.

"And just what was that?" she spat out, still glaring bloody daggers at him.

"I'm very sorry," he repeated, "I only wanted to make you happy. When you were talking to me in the attic a few minutes ago you sounded so forlorn that I just wanted to do something that would make you laugh or feel better. I wasn't thinking. I am very sorry."

Now it was Jun's turn to look like she had been slapped. A wave of guilt washed over her.

"You were thinking about my feelings all along?"

"Well, yes…"

"I…"

"Jun, I really wish you wouldn't feel silly when someone asks you to smile for a photo. Whenever you smile you look exquisite. Just think, if I took your photo I could look at your beautiful face whenever I wanted to!" Pyron blurted out.

Jun's jaw almost fell through the floor. "W-w-what?" she stammered. How poetic!

Oh no, oh no! Did I just say that out loud? Lee Pyron, you idiot! You freak! he thought to himself in a panic. He did not notice Jun scooting closer to him.

"Pyron…that's the best compliment I've heard in a long time. Do you really think I am exquisite? Because I think you are," she breathed. The man was speechless. The two leaned in a little closer to each other.

Then Jun got suddenly frightened. She sprang up and rushed over to the other side of the balcony huffing and puffing. The object of her affection ran after her, concerned.

"Tao Jun…?" he asked. She was shivering!

"We shouldn't feel this way. I'm alive. You're dead. If we let ourselves do this…" she paused, her eyes as big as dinner plates with fear. Pyron waited patiently for his beloved to continue.

"P-Pyron…if we let ourselves do this…there are certain boundaries I m-m-must draw…certain things I would never do with you," she stammered.

He knew what she meant.

"That is something I agree wholeheartedly on. Besides, it's not like a corpse could do such things," he stated. Jun slowly turned around to face him. A cold wind blew. They gazed into each other's eyes for a minute.

"Jun? May I at least hope for a kiss from your beautiful lips? That's all I ask if you do not mind," he stated truthfully.

Tao Jun held his hand in silence knowing they both had the same thought: We're not sure. And yet…

Slowly but surely Pyron wrapped his mighty arms around Jun's waist. She linked her own slender ones around his neck. Together their lips shared a soft, sweet kiss that was not too dramatic, not too awkward, but just right. When they finally parted all of their worries dissolved into nothingness. Jun gave her dearest a genuine, happy, relaxed smile and Pyron took her picture. If you look on the last page of the Tao family's most current photo album you will see her snapshot as she stands on the balcony against the clouds.