#but you did see a rise during the next few years because of the depression

[voxiiferous]

Vox's Last PA (Before Hellaina)

Hellaina was not Vox's first PA, she is, however, his second. No, the first was a man named Jerome Alton, though in Hell, he decided to change it to Jeremy. He was born in 1900, just early enough to come to adulthood during the height of the 1920s, and just late enough to avoid serving in World War 1.

He made his money trading on Wall Street-- by day he was balancing odds and price differences, and at night he was frequenting speakeasies and parties of the other young rich. Sadly for Jerome, all that fell to pieces on October 29th, 1929. He lost everything in the stock market crash, and despite his attempts during the first few years of the Great Depression, found his life of luxury taken out from under him. He had no money, he had to leave his lovely apartment, and his dinners of caviar and champagne turned to hours long drudgery in breadlines. It's the shame that got him in the end, more than anything else.

In 1931, Jerome Alton fell to Pentagram City. For a while he tried to make himself Overlord, but all of them had been in power for far too long, and then in 1933, Alastor the Radio Demon went on a slaughtering spree, and Jeremy was mostly interested in staying the fuck away from that.

In 1955, Vox died, and he became the PA to the up and coming TV demon, and his growing empire. It wasn't the glamour and pizazz of the Roaring Twenties, but it was... something. Sort of. It might have been better had he been one of the people on the screen rather than a glorified receptionist. He had been someone! Now he was running messages between sets, and helping to coordinate meetings under the brand of someone else.

He wasn't very good at his job, but he was, more or less, better than no one, and that was the state of affairs for several decades. He was subpar, but as Vogitek grew and grew, there was never enough time or people looking for the position to replace him, easier for Vox to pick up the slack where he let the balls drop.

And then came the early 1980s. Jeremy had begun to make his peace with his position's less than glamorous nature, aware that there wasn't much by way of alternative. It made him cocky, or at least as much of an idiot motivated mostly by luck, and being in the right place at the right time as he had always been.

He had avoided Alastor's carnage in 1933, but didn't again fifty years on, and well, so ended Jeremy Alton's career, as food for the radio demon. In the end, he got to be the star... if you count being one of Alastor's radio 'guests' that.

Vox knew almost as soon as it happened, because there are three main ways to break a soul-contract: choice, death, and having it severed in other means. Alastor eating Jeremy counted.

Vox's annoyance with Alastor about that has always been that he ate his PA! He knew he needed a new PA, but it was busy and he didn't want to hire and train someone new with the risk they could be incompetent. But a few months later Hellaina fell, and it all became a moot concern.

[gettin-edgy-all-the-time]

all my thoughts and feelings about the offspring in one big post

I owe this band so fucking much for all they’ve gotten me through so far so here’s a kind of overview of how I got into the band and why they mean so much to me

before you read on though, trigger warnings for depression, anxiety, and implied suicidal thoughts for the like second half the post

So the first offspring song I heard was either The Kids Aren’t All Right or Come Out and Play and I remember being pretty young but still recognizing the songs. my little kid mind used to hear ‘carburetor’ instead of ‘keep ‘em separated’ and absolutely loved that guitar riff from Come Out and Play.

The next two songs I remember are Pretty Fly For A White Guy, Gotta Get Away, and Self Esteem. I distinctly remember my dad singing along to Pretty Fly in the car. I think Gotta Get Away was the first offspring song I knew all the words to and was a large part of the reason I got into the band (it is my favorite offspring because of this). When I first listened to Self Esteem I related to it because I did not, in fact have much self esteem and the line ‘the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care right?’ really hammered home how good the song is for me.

Then at some point in there I learned the lyrics to Gone Away. I really liked the lyrics kind of related to the grief even thought the song was about losing someone but I could not explain why. I think I just like themes of pain and loss in stuff that I listen to or read.

Fast forward a few years of me being a casual listener to my freshman year of high school. I kinda felt like shit. I had no real friends for the first few months, my depression had gotten worse the second half the school year, I had started to question my gender and sexuality, and I was just very lost in general. I found You’re Gonna Go Far, Kid (and Teenagers but that’s for a different post) and related to it and it became the song I could take my anger and depression out through.

Somewhere in there Gotta Get Away became my anxiety anthem. I have always struggled with a little bit of social anxiety but once I got to high school where I didn’t know any body and there was a lot more stress from schoolwork my anxiety went through the fucking roof. Honestly it’s still pretty bad today but at least I can cope better, in part thanks to Gotta Get Away.

Then several months ago I went to see The Offspring live. I think that concert was the first time I heard Let The Bad Times Roll and the only lines I could make out were ‘let me know when you decide: apathy or suicide’ and ‘oh baby let the bad times roll.” Then I think I also heard Staring At The Sun for the first time there and I liked it because the chorus was very screamable. I saw Dexter play Gone Away on the piano and now it’s one of my goals to get good enough on piano to play it.

Shortly after the concert I listened to the entire Let The Bad Times Roll album because I loved the song Let The Bad Times Roll so much. It kind of came at just the right time because I started to get depressed again after that and what kept me going was the line ‘let me know when you decide: apathy or suicide.’ I related heavily to it because during that period I was either apathetic or depressed or both the majority of the time. And some other songs from the album like Behind Your Walls and Army Of One have really stuck with me. After listening to that album I started listening to all their other albums, which is what I consider the start of my obsession with their music.

I discovered Rise and Fall, Rage and Grace, which is possibly my favorite album (it’s hard to choose). Half-Truism had me in a vice grip for months mostly because of the line ‘your own liberation will leave this behind’ because at the time i was both grappling with myself over whether or not to come out and trying to decide if I wanted to go to therapy, and both of these would possibly change my life in ways I was not ready for (Spoiler alert I didn’t do either). I also loved the songs Trust In You because it is honestly pretty relatable for me and Kristy, Are You Doing Okay? because I think it’s just such a beautiful and sad song.

At some point pretty far into my listening to every Offspring album I started this blog because The Thoughts were piling up and I needed somewhere to put them before people started to think i was crazy.

Then life got stressful again and depression and anxiety got a hell of a lot worse. My birthday was in there and I just felt like shit because I felt I hadn't done anything in that year of my life. I was questioning my purpose in life and asking myself why I was even still alive. I didn't feel like I had anything to look forward to. I found out that The Offspring had their eleventh album in the works on my birthday through a local radio station's dj randomly talking about it. Maybe its stupid or whatever but the new album has given me something to look forward to and a reason to keep going.

At the time I was also trying to figure out how the hell I would fit into a punk music scene when I was also looking toward higher education and a career in the sciences. In my head that made me a fake or a poser or some stupid shit and because of this I had decided that there was not point in me learning to play guitar if I wasn't going to go anywhere with it (looking back this was a totally irrational thought but i guess that stupid little voice in the back of my head isn't rational either). Then i learned (from a random ass tumblr meme no less) that Dexter had a phd in microbiology. Those notions of 'you cant play guitar if you want to go into the sciences' went right out the fucking window. I've been learning guitar ever since and one of my greatest motivations is getting good enough to play all my favorite Offspring songs.

This last thing is kind of a weird coincidence that I think is pretty cool. So I also have the nickname Noodles. My aunt gave me the nickname when I was really little because I loved the noodles at a local chain restaurant. I don’t know when I figured out that I had the same nickname as Noodles, but I do remember thinking that it’s kind of awesome to share a nickname with a member of your favorite band.

Congratulations you’ve made it to the end of All My Thoughts And Feelings About The Offspring In One Big Post. I know it’s a pretty long post and honestly I’ve probably forgotten stuff and definitely wasn’t able to go into my opinions on all of their music. I think I might do a series of posts going into my thoughts about each album (I originally started this blog with this series in mind), but that’s for another time. Thank you for reading or even just skimming this. The Offspring mean a lot to me (obviously), and I might come back and add onto this post as time passes.

[giigil]

how did you start to write? kinda curious to know your trajectory

story time! (really happy you asked, hehe.) note: if anyone's interested in going through my past writings, let me know and i'll probably make a google drive folder lol.

I've been addicted to gaming ever since I was younger and I've always had hyperfixations that would come and go. Middle school was when I realized I had a love for reading books (mainly young adult, romance, fiction + manga) and I used to always spend my time in the school library during my lunch breaks.

2012: I was 13 and almost graduated from middle school. I adored Zelda/Link as a ship so much that I Googled 'Zelda x Link' to look for cute art, only to stumble across a website: Fanfiction.net. Yep. That site.

I read through a couple of stories and found myself hooked. I made an account, and I decided to start writing my own stories.

Super Smash Brothers Brawl had a huge impact on my life and holds a special place in my heart. It was all I'd ever written and thought about when I first started.

( putting a read more to elaborate further on my writing journey. )

Around 2013, though, someone put a wrench on my Fanfiction.net journey by reporting my story -- it wasn't anything horrible, it was just a cringe Truth or Dare fanfiction that someone and their group said was "against" Fanfiction.net rules. That story got deleted, and out of impulse and feeling depressed, I deleted every single fanfiction I'd ever posted on my account.

I deeply regret doing so, because there were so many ideas that I can't look back on because my memory isn't able to recall a whole lot of them.

At least a few weeks after, though, I got onto Tumblr and got into Tumblr roleplaying! Fairy Tail was my next huge fixation and I made a roleplay blog focused on Edo-Cana from the Edolas arc (after I spoke with an Edo-Lucy blog). After I lost my inspiration for Edo-Cana, I moved on to Evergreen, and then Lucy Heartfilia.

I believe I lost interest in roleplaying on Tumblr around 2014.

2014: I was still writing on Fanfiction.net, but as usual, I would delete my fics when they didn't satisfy me. I wrote for a couple of other fandoms ranging from Big Hero Six, Rise of the Guardians/Young Justice, and more. I'd also joined websites like Quotev and Wattpad.

2015: In my junior year of high school, I made a friend who also had an interest in roleplaying. She introduced me to this one roleplaying website which allowed me to continue with writing.

However, as you can probably see, I have the absolutely terrible habit of losing interest in things quickly. I ended up quitting roleplaying due to that.

I also joined Archiveofourown. I don't remember if I'd ever posted anything around the time of joining. This is the one year I don't remember much for.

I also continued to post on Fanfiction.net:

As per usual, it lasted for *almost* a year.

November 10th, 2016 was the last time I ever posted on my Fanfiction.net account.

I had a dry spell when it came to writing for a good year and a half from 2016-2017.

April 21 2017: I played Final Fantasy XV and (it's what I hyperfixated on for a good 2 years). Around April 27-28, I already had a hankering for wanting to write fanfiction for it. I have so many ideas that haven't seen the light of day, and probably never will.

There's so many drafts, mostly unfinished, just sitting in my Google Drive.

August 2018: I posted a Prompto Argentum x Reader fic on archiveofourown, but eventually orphaned it and everything else I had posted.

October 2018: My hyperfixation for Red Dead Redemption 2 started. I thought up of ideas, plotlines, etc.

February 2019: I posted 3 Arthur Morgan x Reader fics. Which, you can probably already guess what the fuck happened to those. *orphaned. woooow.*

March 2019: I swore off writing anything else for my old Fanfiction.net account, and have left all of my fanfiction saved there.

2020-2021: Once more, I stopped writing and focused on trying to get through day by day life considering it was the COVID outbreak and I was only ever working. I never stopped reading fanfiction though. It's what's kept my writing decent -- at least, that's what I feel like. 2020 was when my hyperfixation on Final Fantasy 7/Remake started. I would think up of things.

March 23, 2022: (Not a writing thing, but I like to make note of it.) The start of my hyperfixation on Jujutsu Kaisen and Gojo!

December 2022: I finally posted a fic after so long. Haven't deleted it, and I swear I won't.

January 2023: Wrote my first ever M rated fic for Nero the Sable from Final Fantasy 7 Remake x Reader, and told myself I'd go back to writing. I haven't posted anything else on AO3 since then.

August 11, 2023: I learned of and created an account on character.ai!

September 18, 2023: I started making character.ai bots!

TL;DR:

As you can see, I'm an inconsistent person and have occasional moments of inspiration and eventually get tired of things. There will be times when I need a break from writing, so I apologize if it takes me a bit to get through all of my requests.

[damonjuicyscock]

Pictures of You-Epilogue (90's Liam Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 00's Liam Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: Language (as per usual), angst (Liam being beaten up in Munich d'you know what I mean?), fluff, maybe a few spelling mistakes.

Words: 2141

Summary: You are Oasis's official photographer and Liam Gallagher's wife. The Munich incident happens and Liam 30's are approaching...

A/N: Heya ! Hope you're all doing fine. Here is the Epilogue *Sigh* This fan fic meant a lot to me as I put a part of my illnesses in it. I hope you enjoyed it. I start writing the Noels one, but it won't come yet, so I publish some requested oneshots during at least 2 weeks.

I also decided to establish a new little something. There will now be 3 requested oneshots per month and on the fourth week, there will be one of mine. Also, once per month you'll be able to ask questions, anything you want, I've got nothing to hide ! The first Ask me will start this weekend!

Anyway, enjoy this epilogue, love y'all

(Yes, these are THE pictures from when he got arrested)

2002:

Two years had passed, and Liam was about to turn 30.

We had another son the year before, that we called Gene.

I was my husband’s and sons superhero. Being a mom of two and Oasis’s official photographer at the same time gave me this title.

Noel and Meg had divorced, she claimed that Noel had cheated on her with his new girlfriend, which wasn’t true at all. Noel would never have cheated on her.

I was sad in a way, even if I was still seeing Meg on my side.

After Gene’s birth, I was forced to go to Saint Ann’s again, having a big post-partum depression. And I attempted to my life once again.

But Liam and all my in-law family were a big support, and I got better.

And Liam also was a hero to my eyes, because he managed to take care of a 2 year old toddler and of a 3 months baby.

And as per usual, after a relapse, I was rising for the ashes like a damn phoenix.

But Liam still could act like a kid.

I think you probably heard about Munich 2002. Damn, I hated when things were going like this, but after all, I married a rock star.

December 1st 2002- Munich:

After the gig, while I came back to the hotel, exhausted to take care of my children, Liam, Alan and two of their friends went to party in the nightclub attached to the hotel. Liam started flicking peanuts at the wrong table. The men receiving these peanuts actually were members of a local mafia.

Their leader knocked out two bodyguards with a brass standing ashtray and Liam kept repeating he was just messing around and laughing. But Liam still kept forgetting that his humour wasn’t to everyone’s taste.

These mafia locals were researched by the police and thanks to Liam, this night, they were arrested. But Liam, Alan and their friends also were, because my dear husband decided to assault a police officer who was trying to pull other people apart. Liam was a bit hurt, losing his front teeth in the fight.

I received a phone call at 3am, which woke Gene up and caused him to start crying.

I didn’t answer the phone and went to pick my son. It also woke Lennon up, hearing his brother cry.

Mama…

It’s okay Lennon, I’m taking Gene with me, you can sleep love.

Kiss? He asked, holding out his little arms to me

Of course, sweetie.

I kissed his forehead and caressed his head.

Sleep tight. I said with a smile

I went back to my part of the suite and the phone rang again.

While I was breastfeeding Gene, I answered the call.

Hallo? I tried in German

Hey love, it’s me. I heard Liam say

Liam it’s 3 am. Did you forget your key or? I asked, fed up

Not exactly, I’ve been arrested by the cops, can ye pick me up at the police station please? Bring me chequebook

Oh for fuck’s sake, wat have you done again?

Love, I’d like to chat with ye but I don’t have the fucking time for this shit so just come please. He mumbled

Okay, just give me the time to take the kids to Noel or Maggie and to take a taxi.

I didn’t even listen to what he said next and hang up.

As the band’s manager, Maggie had to come with me. So we went to knock at Noel’s door. When he saw us with Lennon and Gene, he immediately understood.

Oh fer fuck’s sake, what did he do again? He asked, his arms crossed

Got arrested. We’re going to pick them up at the police station.

Them?

Alan got arrested too. Maggie answered

Fer fuck’s sake… Okay, I won’t make any comments ‘bout that. Give me me nephews, ye know I’ll take care of them.

I know, sorry Noely.

It’s not yer fault Y/N.

*

When we arrived at the police station, the police officers did not let us see Liam nor Alan.

Listen guys, I’m Liam Gallagher’s wife, why don’t you let me see him?

We’re waiting for the bloodtest results madam.

What bloodtest?

Madam, your husband is drunk and aggressed one of our colleagues, he broke a lot of furniture, and I can guarantee he was the worst between them all.

How long do we have to wait? Maggie asked

2 or 3 hours.

2 or 3 hours?!

Yes, I’m sorry madam Gallagher. You can take the seats here and a coffee machine is at your disposal.

I sighed.

We waited. I was so exhausted I fell asleep with my head on Maggie’s shoulder.

She woke me up at 6 am.

Y/N, Liam will be free in less than an hour.

Alright.

We have his bloodtest results.

So?

Promise me to remain calm.

Cut the shit and tell me Maggie.

Well, as you already know, he was drunk as fuck. But he also has been tested positive to cocaine.

I’m sorry, what?

Yes, I know Y/N. I know he promised.

He had promised me he had stopped snorting cocaine. He lied to me again. And he would hear about it.

Liam was free 37 minutes after. He approached me, his arms open. I pushed him away.

Do you really think I’m going to let you touch me William? I said dryly

Why are ye so cold?

Seriously?

Huh guys, I’m going to call a taxi. Maggie said, ill at ease when seeing us argue

What’s yer fucking problem Y/N?

Really Liam? The results of your fucking bloodtest!

Oh c’mon Y/N, I was just partying!

Oh so being arrested is partying for you? Is this the model you want to show to our sons?

Oh fuck off, they’ll never know about that!

Because you think our kids are dumb and blind? Don’t you think they see you being high and drunk? Don’t you think they realize it?

Oh shut yer cake’ole Y/N, can’t we just go back to the hotel? I want to fucking sleep.

No Liam. You will sleep, but I’m going back to London and I’m taking the boys with me.

What the fuck are ye saying? Nah, yer staying with me.

No Liam, I can’t. I don’t want you to approach Lennon and Gene as long as you won’t calm down on alcohol and stop cocaine as you promised. You lied to me Liam you betrayed my trusted in you!

C’mon Y/N, I don’t want us to get bad again.

You should have thought about this before Liam.

And what about your job?

I didn’t think about this. I only was thinking about my children.

And what solution do you have?

Help me… Let’s call me mum, she’ll take the boys with her until the end of the tour. But please, don’t leave me.

We can’t call Peggy each time you fuck up. Liam, you’re a father and an adult, you must become responsible.

I know, but one last time, please Y/N.

I thought and sighed.

One last time for this as well Liam. From now on and until you get better, only beers, cigarettes and joints. Nothing else. You have to behave correctly. You might be a rock star, but this rock star is now a husband and a father. And you piss off your wife, kids, brother and band. Time for you to be a cool rockstar.

Already am, me.

I want you to be cooler and better.

*

You may think I had or have high expectations; this isn’t the case. Is wanting to have a healthy relationship, keeping your husband alive the longest time possible and wanting your children to have a clean and responsible father being a high expectation?

For Liam, it wasn’t. He respected everything we talked about, everything I asked after that. I wasn’t spying him if that’s what you’re wondering. He just loved us enough.

His 30th birthday was quickly approaching. I had no idea of what I could do.

But I had his gift. A 10-year-old gift.

Some kind of rewind.

September 21st 2002- London:

For the first time, Liam wanted to spend his birthday at home. He would be absent for an hour or two at 6pm to have a beer with his friends but would come back home early.

I was nervous at the idea of giving him this 10 years old gift.

Wine? No. A child? What the fuck! 10 albums full of pictures I took the past 10 years? Yes. My work compiled in 10 albums, one for each year.

10 albums that would have seen our story grow, like us.

When he arrived, a big box wrapped in gift wrap was waiting for him on the table.

Wow, what the fuck is that?

Your birthday gift. Happy birthday darling.

I don’t know what he was waiting for because he kept staring at it, as if he was in shock.

Are you going to stay like this or are you going to open it?

Oh yea, soz.

He sat and tore of the wrapping paper. He opened the box.

Huh… thank you? I don’t like to read ye know that.

I rolled my eyes.

Open the said first book before speaking you twat.

He opened the book, reading the first page, which was corresponding to my inscription.

“My dear love, 10 albums for the 10 years we’ve been going through. 10 years of laugh, cries and…pictures of you. And the band, of course. But here it’s just you. You and me. You and me and Lennon. You and me and Lennon and Gene. Yeah, I quoted a The Cure song… on purpose. I find it very accurate to define us and the past 10 years. Happy birthday Liam.”

He flipped through the next few pages, taking care to observe each picture. The 1992 album, then the following ones.

I saw him wipe a few tears from time to time and laughed for some pictures.

And when he arrived at the end of the last album, he read the few sentences I wrote.

“Once upon a time, you made me listen to a very beautiful song where you seemed to tell me “Stand by me, nobody knows the way it’s gonna be.” And today, I can myself answer after my works that…

I've been looking so long at these pictures of you That I almost believe that they're real I've been living so long with my pictures of you That I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel

Remembering you standing quiet in the rain As I ran to your heart to be near And we kissed as the sky fell in, holding you close How I always held close in your fear Remembering you running soft through the night You were bigger and brighter and wider than snow You screamed at the make-believe, screamed at the sky And you finally found all your courage to let it all go

Remembering you, fallen into my arms Crying for the death of your heart You were stone white, so delicate Lost in the cold You were always so lost in the dark Remembering you how you used to be Slow drowned, you were angels So much more than everything Hold for the last time then slip away quietly Open my eyes, but I never see anything

If only I'd thought of the right words I could have held on to your heart If only I'd thought of the right words I wouldn't be breaking apart all my pictures of you

Looking so long at these pictures of you But I never hold on to your heart Looking so long for the words to be true But always just breaking apart My pictures of you

There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more Than to feel you deep in my heart There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more Than to never feel the breaking apart My pictures of you”

Liam came to me and held me tight, sobbing.

Thank ye Y/N, this is the greatest and the best gift someone has ever made for me and offered me.

I love you Li’

Oh how I fucking love you too.

These are my favourite things in the world.

Wot?

You, our family, my job, and my pictures of you.

[olivia200312]

Prime Missing~ TFP! Optimus x Half-Predacon! Reader *Request*

Requested by the lovely CreatorCat

Plot: Hi there! Could I please request a TFP Optimus x half Cybertronian and half Predacon female Autobot reader? Only Optimus knows she is like that. Her Predacon form is a dragon and her vehicle form is a mustang car (Wildstyle colors from Lego Movie). Her fighting style is dancing (dance fighting, usually coordinated with music only she can hear in her earpiece, unpredictable). It takes place during Beast Wars where they meet Ultra Magnus. Optimus goes missing and the reader is very upset because she has a crush on the Prime.

Ultra Magnus grows a crush on her after seeing her fight in battle. He is concerned she'll get hurt because her style doesn't fall into the protocol and can't be monitored. He forbids her from joining the ranks in battle until she 'shaded up'. The reader is devasted and falls into sort of depression because that she wouldn't be able to dance or fight anymore and that was what she lived for. Optimus returns (finally) to find his crush (the reader) not herself anymore. They have been 'broken' and fight the way that Ultra Magnus saw fit. He's horrified because this wasn't 'his Y/N' and confronted Ultra Magnus. Afterward, Optimus takes the reader aside and confesses and she smiles for the first time in 'forever'. The next battle she's in, she breaks protocol and does her original style of fighting much to everyone's happiness (except Ultra Magnus). She also reveals her Predacon side to protect everyone from the Decepticons and Predaking.

What do you think?

That's a long request ever since I got a request to write a high school version. Lol. So, I read the entire text here and began to think. Do not think it is a bad way. I absolutely love the request but however, I don't like a few things. I'm not familiar with Beast Wars at all. I know only like literally one character and that is Optimal Primal. He is in fact the new Prime in Power of the Primes after Optimus' death. Don't believe me? Watch the 10 episodes or follow the OC book that I'm working on since I'm partnered up with Alita-One and others on Quotev. Furtonaly, I don't like Beast Wars at all since it's different. I also couldn't help but cringe a bit since it's TFP playing in Beast Wars. I remember some clips and scenes where Optimus actually goes missing after the base got exploded and Ultra Magnus appearing. I also remember Predacon's Rising.

Also since I don't like hurting other lovely characters (either rejected or friend-zoned), I made Ultra Magnus different. He'll be not crushing on the reader, but don't worry, he'll get tasted with his own medicine. Revenge will arrive.

Head area:

Brain: Processor / Brain Module

Head: Helm

Face: Face plate

Ears: Audio receptors / Receptor Orifice / Audials

Nose: Enstril / Olfactory Sensor

Eye brow: Optical Ridge

Eyes: Optics

Mouth: Intake

Lips: Dermas

Teeth: Denta/Dentas

Tongue: Glossa

Chest area:

Chest: Chassis / Thoraxal Cavity

Back: Hexa-Lateral Scapula

Spine: Bipedalism cord / Back Strut

Chest and back armour:

Chest plate

Back plate

Mid-section plating

Neck guard

Side plating

Arm area:

Arms: Arms / Restarlueus

Forearms: Bitarlueus

Hands: Servos

Fingers: Digits

Arm armour:

Gantlets

Shoulder pads

Arm guard

Lower area:

Pelvis: Pelvis

Butt: Aft / Skid-Plate

Thighs: Tibulen

Calves: Cadulen

Feet: Pedes - the high heel bits are called Struts or Heel Struts.

Lower armour:

Skirt plates

Aft plate / Skid plate

Thigh guard

Ankle guard

General/Internal components:

Muscles: Cables / Pistons - It depends on the area in question.

Veins: Fual lines

Stomach: Tanks

Lungs: Vents - used to stop the con/bot from over heating.

Heart: Spark

Tattoos: D-con/A-bot Insignias and the lark

T-Cog: The thing that allows all Cybertronians to transform, be that their arms or their whole body.

Bonus:

Penis: Spike

Vagina: Valve

Body: Frame

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

"Jack, meet Ultra Magnus," Arcee introduced her human partner to the missing commander of the Autobots.

Jack looked shocked as he took a look at Ultra Magnus. He was light blue while Optimus was dark blue. The commander had a strict look on his faceplate. What was his problem? Sure, there was a war still going on because since Cybertron, the home planet of the Cybertronians, including the Autobots, Decepticons, and the Predacons, was dead so the idiotic Decepticons moved the war towards Earth when they discovered that the Autobots had been hiding there. Honestly, Megatron was too evil and stupid for actually settling the war on Earth. Earth! The planet was involved in many wars already, especially WWI and WWII.

But let's get to the point: what's been happening?

Well, the Decepticons discovered where the Autobots had been hiding. Before it got blown up, Optimus ordered everyone to leave the base and a serious warning: don't use the phone to call or send anything. If they do, then the Decepticons can track your signal, which can lead a serious danger. Jack went with Arcee, Miko with Bulkhead, and finally Raf with Bumblebee. Eventually, the base got exploded. Optimus got seriously wounded that Smokescreen found him. He was a smart rookie for hiding him so that Optimus can possibly heal and be safely hidden. Sadly, the damage was too much that Optimus was slowly offlining. He didn't want to leave, especially not Y/N. She was a half-Predacon and half-Cybertronian. She was an Autobot. So, it means that Y/N's carrier or sire was a Predacon while the other was Cybertronian. She was found wounded in a forest by Optimus and he took her to the Autobots base. Poor Y/N... She remembered how scared she was when she was there. I mean, she was wounded, lost on Earth, and didn't know anyone. She lost her creators thanks to the war. She eventually learned fast how to take care of herself.

When Optimus met her, he couldn't help but thought that Y/N was a unique and beautiful femme he'd ever seen. I mean, she was half-Cybertronian and half-Predacon. He had seen full Predacons before like Predaking. Soon, he'll meet Darksteel and Skylynx who were brothers. Y/N had wings and a tail so she was very unique. She was thankful to fly and control her balance more. The human kids loved Y/N. Miko, of course, asked too many questions that at one point, Jack and Raf had to stop her since they noticed when Y/N got uncomfortable and scared.

But anyway, that all happened before the big explosion. Optimus grew in fact closer to Y/N that he was the only one at the base who Y/N trusted. She would stay by his side, help him and ask questions. Optimus gladly helped her whenever she was scared or asked questions. He also found her adorable in secret. He sometimes asked himself about her like her wings for example. Were they sensitive? Maybe they were? He will only know if he touched it. If Y/N ever allowed it.

While Y/N was with the Autobots, it didn't mean that she met everyone. She didn't meet Ultra Magnus at the time. He was a strict commander of the Autobots and was light blue and red. His vehicle was very similar to the Prime. His shoulderplates were weird, kinda. No disrespect. But oh boy, Y/N hated Magnus. When he saw her, he was only coldhearted and strict towards her. Y/N's fighting style was dancing but the commander didn't like it that he forbid her to do so. It was like this:

The Autobots just came back after a fight again with the Decepticons. The fight was brutal this time. Apparently, the Decepticons had a new 'weapon' and it was a full Predacon! It was a male and in fact, the ruler of the race when they went instinct many years ago thanks to Megatron himself. Shockwave managed to bring the king back from the dead. His name was Predaking. He was huge! After all, he was a male and a ruler. Since Y/N was half-Predacon, she actually can't transform. Some Cybertronians who were half-Predacons, couldn't actually transform. Some can, some couldn't. Y/N didn't mind that she couldn't transform. She liked how she looked, even having a Predacon tail and wings.

But everyone was wounded. Y/N fought against the male Predacon himself. Their fight was rough and they bit and clawed. But Y/N managed to trick him by dancing. Fighting was a little bit of dancing if you didn't know. You were moving and using your whole frame. It was exhausting for Y/N, but she won.

Ultra Magnus, however, didn't like her fighting style that he brought her into a private chamber. He closed the door and faced her, with his usual strict expression. "Soldier, I want you to change the style."

Y/N lifted her optical ridge up in confusion. What did the commander mean by that? Her armor? Her outgoing? What was it? "What do you mean?"

"Change your fighting style. Also, I forbid you from ever going to fight with us."

Y/N couldn't believe what she heard. Was he really serious? Was he going to forbid her from going out to fight? But what about Optimus Prime? He still wasn't found! He was missing ever since the big explosion that the Decepticons caused weeks ago. The human kids spread around together with their guardians and they weren't allowed to not use any technology or else the Decepticons will track them down. Jack, stupid enough, used his cellphone to text his mother that he was fine. It was understandable for a kid to text its parent to let them know that they were fine. But when it came to the war between the Autobots and the Decepticons, then it was important to listen to the advice.

Ultra Magnus simply left the private chamber, leaving the poor half-Predacon femme alone.

That's basically how it happened. Ever since that day, Y/N didn't come out a lot from her berthroom. She was very spark broken ever since the strict commander told her those words. He forbid her from searching Optimus, who was still missing at the moment. How could he say that? Y/N cared deeply for Optimus just like the entire team. He was their leader but also someone that would protect others and be willing to sacrifice his life.

Y/N would only recharge all day. She ate and drank of course but it wasn't a lot like she used. Basically, how a normal Cybertronian ate. If you didn't know, humans can die from broken hearts. It was in fact a Broken heart syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome. It was very sad to have that like heart disease. Not only humans can have that syndrome but also Cybertronians, especially the Predacons, full or not. Y/N attracted that syndrome. Everyone says that action speaks louder than words, but words hurt more than actions. Y/N had shortness of breathing and having chassis pains. That was the most common syndrome of heart disease.

Ratchet, the medic of the team wasn't blind at all and was trained to notice signs of any health problems. Since Y/N was showing those signs, he did the tests and diagnosed her with Broken Heart Syndrome or should I say Broken Spark Syndrome? Ratchet kept a close optic on her and made her take medication, especially if she showed signs of chassis pains and shortness of breath.

But meanwhile in the main room of the base...

Ratchet was updating Y/N's health on the Cybertronian computer since it was important for the medics to keep new updates so that they can keep the information. There was actually no standard treatment for the syndrome that Y/N had, but you can survive with medication and as long as you're being careful. Not only do doctors like Ratchet keep updates safe but also dentists as well. Ratchet was mad at Ultra Magnus for saying hurtful words but kept it quiet. It was time that others should watch out for what comes out of their mouths. Words can damage someone and give an illness. He began to ask himself how would Optimus react if he found out about that...

Bumblebee then walked up to Ratchet and beeped a question at him.

Ratchet signed and looked over his shoulderplate. "No, Bumblebee. Y/N is still a little bit weak to come out. I am doing the best I can to help her on track. But her syndrome doesn't have a standard treatment. Just like on humans."

Bumblebee frowned and let out a sad whirl. He saw Y/N as his good friend and cared for her as a friend. He was mad at the commander for saying those words that he nearly attacked her. Didn't the idiotic commander notice at all how much he damaged her? Why was he even doing this?! Just because she was a half-Predacon!? Bumblebee clenched his fists in anger as he started to shake.

Ratchet, being a smart aft medic, noticed it and quickly placed his servo on the scout's shoulderplate. "Easy, Bumblebee." Just as Ratchet wanted to say something further, his computer caught a signal. He quickly went to the device and Bumblebee looked curiously over his shoulderplate.

"Hahaha!" Ratchet began to laugh and clapped his servos happily. That caught everyone's attention as they walked up to him, except Y/N, who was still sadly in her berthroom to rest. She did hear Ratchet's happy laugh, which was confusing, but she didn't bother to check since she felt weak. Ratchet turned around fast with a big smile on his faceplate. "Optimus is alive!"

That caused everyone to cheer happily. Y/N fell asleep at that time. She didn't hear Ratchet's loud voice that said that Optimus was alive and coming soon to the base.

2 hours later~

"Awesome! Optimus is now like 2.0!" Miko happily jumped as she was fascinated by Optimus' new look.

"It's good to have you back, Optimus," Arcee said with a smile.

Everyone was saying how happy they were to see and have Optimus Prime back. The leader was smiling as he listened to everyone with respect. He was happy to see them as well. Even though he was almost offline for good, he thought about others, especially Y/N. But wait, where was she? He saw his friends but not Y/N. He frowned. What happened to her while he was missing? He wondered about her every day. He nearly did join the AllSpark and taking the servo of his mentor, Alpha Trion. The old smart mech understood his student's decision. He even teased Optimus to get the spark of the half-Predacon. He blushed.

Ratchet seem to realize Optimus' frown and he immediately knew that it was about Y/N. He walked up to his leader. "Optimus, I have to speak to you. It's urgent."

Optimus nodded in understanding. Of course, he heard Ratchet's serious tone, which meant that he was deadly serious, especially for being a medic. His job was to take care of others and help if needed. They both went to a private chamber to speak while others stayed. Ultra Magnus, however, got a bad feeling...

Ratchet closed the door and turned to face Optimus. "Optimus, while you were gone, others had a fight against the Decepticons. They had a new 'weapon' it was a full Predacon... a mech. He's named Predaking, the ruler of the Predacons. Y/N fought against him. I must say, I am impressed with her fighting moves. Dancing. Ultra Magnus didn't like her style at all. I saw them going to a private chamber. I learned from Y/N that Magnus forbid her from going out and he forced her to change her style..." He sighed and took a deep breath. "As a result, Y/N has Broken Heart Syndrome, also known as stress cardiomyopathy or takotsubo syndrome in humans. But I called it the Broken Spark Syndrome. She has trouble breathing and having chassis pains. I made her take medication."

Optimus couldn't believe what he heard. How could Ultra Magnus do this? He was getting angry. The commander took it too far by his words. He look calmy at Ratchet and nodded. "Thank you for the information old friend. I will speak to commander Ultra Magnus and see Y/N."

Ratchet nodded back and they left the private chamber. Ultra Magnus knew that he was busted. Optimus slowly walked up to the commander, with a disappointed and angry expression on his faceplate. He took the commander to somewhere private and let's just say that Optimus was so stern. He also finally punished the commander for what he said to Y/N. Ratchet was satisfied and mumbled under his breath: "As humans say: 'Get rekt'."

Optimus then walked through the hallway corridors, searching for Y/N's berthroom. Each bot had a nameplate hanging against the door. It was easier for everyone to find each other, except for humans since they were so small. But good that the kids remembered which room was who. They drew small symbols on each door of the bot. Ratchet got a symbol of a doctor, Bumblebee got a bee, Arcee a motorcycle, etc. Y/N had a dragon, even though she couldn't transform into a Predacon.

Optimus knocked on the door gently as he found Y/N's door. After no response, he softly opened the door and peaked in. He smiled softly once he saw Y/N recharging peacefully. But he was still worried about her health after all. He walked to Y/N, closing the door softly to not wake her up. He caressed her helm with his gentle digits and he smiled once he heard her purr. Predacons can purr a lot. Yes, even Optimus can too but not a lot like the Predacons can, even half ones. Optimus continued to caress as he sat down carefully, lifting Y/N's helm and laid it on his lap. For some reason, laps were so comfy. No wonder humans and Cybertronians fall asleep easily, even falling asleep on someone's body. It was so cute when a male slept on top of the female as a couple or friends. Family too. But mostly, females slept on top of the males.

Y/N softly moaned in her sleep as she moved a bit. She felt very comfortable. But that's when she groaned and had trouble breathing. She panted and Optimus got worried. He then noticed the medication on her nightstand. He grabbed it and then Y/N gasped and sat up, her servo on her chassis.

"Easy, Y/N," the familiar deep voice said.

Y/N snapped her helm towards the very familiar deep voice and gasped. it was Optimus! Wait, he was really here?! She was about to say something but Optimus silenced her by cupping her cheekplate, causing her to blush a lot. He helped her take the medication and soon, she breathed normally. But she felt then sleepy again. Optimus noticed it and softly pushed her down. "Recharge, Y/N. Your body needs more rest."

Y/N smiled softly and fell asleep. She can now catch a lot of rest since Optimus was alive and well. She found him more handsome. His new look, now strong body, etc. But she loved his hips, smile, voice, and smirk. As she was sleeping, she felt soft dermas on hers. Optimus was kissing her, just like in the movie Sleeping Beauty.

I apologize if it isn't familiar a lot. I decided to try and make it a little cuter for the fans, especially the ending part.

[creaturefeaster]

Any info you can spare on West Wiles?

Oh, definitely. I can tell you his entire backstory, really. I have the time. So if you're in for a read, go ahead and read more :3.

West was an animal farmer in a small village settled sea-side, about 400 years before the present story. At the starting point of his relevancy, he was beginning to make a family with his wife, who was newly pregnant with their first child.

One early & foggy morning, a large ship was found washed halfway onto the shore of their village, completely vacant inside. It was a confusing sight indeed, and sparked many scares and rumors for several weeks, but when nothing seemed to come of it, the scare died down.

A few months later though, the people of the village came under a mysterious 'night plague,' in which one would die suddenly, drained of all blood, looking as though they had aged a thousand years in their state of departure... and it only seemed to strike at night.

Nobody would ever know who the next victim of this plague would be, or when it would happen, so fear spread across the village once more.

The deaths at first were slow, depressing but easy to manage. But as the next couple of months went by, the death toll was rising at an alarming rate. Now granted, this was a small village of about two to three hundred, so after 3 or 4 months of this it was a total death zone.

Many people died, and in the rare instance they didn't die, they became pale and driven mad by an intense thirst for blood. Very very few people in this village even knew the folklore of vampires, and none assumed they truly existed. So this issue was fought only with isolation and avoidance of each other, out of fear of catching this horrible plague.

West was one of the few who did know of the tale, of blood sucking beasts of the night, and while he generally wasn't one to believe in such outlandish legends, the tragedy that had befell his village certainly made him suspicious. He would begin keeping lookout during the night, and begin risking his life for the safety of his remaining neighbors & family.

5 months into this nightmare, and 1 month before the birth of his child, West was one of the few in the village assisting with the construction of caskets for the fallen, doing whatever he could to try and end the suffering of his village.

When it got to the point where he was having to build caskets even for those who had not yet been afflicted though, he became so unnerved that he would break a shiv off the wood of a casket, traveling the nights with it in hand. With still no explanation for plague, he'd be fully under the belief now that vampires truly were to blame, especially after seeing some worrying silhouettes in the nights prior to this one.

Out of luck he would finally find one, though he was certain that there's a group of them out there. He'd stalk them from afar and follow them back to their group far out into the wild.

This is where he would meet Bonnie, as well as a group of over a dozen other vampires. If you wonder why this find was so easy for West, most of these vampires were extremely fresh from the draw, not having been afflicted for more than a few years at best. Having initially survived mostly off of animals as well, they were not what you could consider experts in their field

Because of that, many didn't know what to do when West showed up. Out of an intense rage would overcome West, he would end up successfully killing many of these vampires that night. The few who knew how to become a bat would flee. Bonnie would be the last to fight against West, all alone.

He lost, though. But in the breaths just before death, he vowed to Bonnie that he would see her dead, even if not by his own hands. And this cursed his bloodline in the process! ^_^ The first born would be doomed to die young if Bonnie was not stricken down. And so his first born gets born, grows up, becomes a vampire hunter themself, has a child, and dies young when they can't end up killing her. And the process repeated, for a very long time. This repeats for so long, the curse is just a family story at this point, but still a mysterious affliction.

This curse is passed through his blood, and at no point is there ever a second born, so his bloodline travels a very thin tightrope down his family tree.

Now, I want to finish this explanation off by stating that many of Bonnie's group were not actually involved in the take over of West's village. Bonnie and the others would have no idea why their entire group was attacked so violently, and the secrets of the ones who did know were ultimately never told, as they'd been killed by their own karma that horrible night.

West only knew Bonnie to be the last living vampire to have destroyed his home and life, and Bonnie only knows West as a stranger who destroyed her family. Bonnie's side is such a different one >_<. But she has the fortune of having 400 more years of story to tell, so I won't get into that right now.

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact - Shocker

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 8.1k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: angst, lots of feelings, but a lot of those are fluffy, happy feelings lol

a/n: there’s not much left so say except for thank you. I hope you enjoy, I tried my best!

Shocker (finale)

series masterlist

“Perhaps one did not want to be loved so much as to be understood.” -George Orwell ‘1984’

Sunday, 3:12 am – immediately following the events of date #7

           The fact that the lights are still on isn’t surprising in the least. It’s been like this after every date. Yoongi is no exception, apparently.

           He pauses outside the door, resting his hand gently against the doorknob. It’s nearly silent, but he can hear familiar voices speaking in hushed tones on the other side of the door. He stares at the dark door, unable to shake the memory of your tear-stained cheeks and swollen ankle from his mind. You had sounded so worried, so afraid of what comes next.

           You’d mumbled out his name when you made it to your bed, the exhaustion on your face momentarily replaced with a look he could only interpret as blind fear. And the way you’d looked at him, wide eyed with a quivering lip…he doesn’t think you noticed, but he nearly caved. He almost laid down beside you and taken you into his arms, deeming the time on the beach not enough.

           With you, it was never enough. Slivers of time and longing looks you never noticed; it would never be enough.

           If the botched date wasn’t evidence enough, it was then, when you gazed up at him and mumbled out his name, Yoongi knew.

           Tonight…it wasn’t enough.

           So he just leaned forward and watched how your eyes fluttered shut as he pecked your nose.

           “I know.”

          Jungkook straightens up from where he was slumped on the couch beside Jin the second the door opens and Yoongi walks in. The scattered conversation that they had all been using as a distraction fades out as each boy focuses in on the newcomer.

           Hobi is practically invisible beneath the huge sweatshirt he wears, his face barely visible as he speaks. “How was it?”

           For some reason or another, there’s always been a postdate analysis of sorts. It’s usually just like this: all of the boys gathered up in the living room in various states of consciousness. Jimin was the only one to slide by without an impromptu meeting after his date, partially because he was too exhausted to see straight and also because everyone knew he’d tell them all the details at breakfast the next morning. He did, and Taehyung actually managed to break a bowl when he lost it over the story of how you and Jimin got kicked out of the basilica.

           Namjoon, on the other hand, had been pretty grim when he realized that Jimin had been teasing you endlessly about your little kiss.

           Now, Yoongi shuffles inside and plops down unceremoniously beside Namjoon, who looks a little worried at the silence. Dropping his heads in his hands, Yoongi rubs at his face before leaning back against the couch.

           “It was fine, if you don’t count the twisted ankle.”

           “What?” Jimin sputter out, suddenly wide awake. “She got hurt?”

           “What happened?” Hobi follows up, leaning forward until he’s nearly slipping off of the couch. “Is she alright?”

           Yoongi is quick to explain your little accident, omitting your tears from the storytelling. He doesn’t want to embarrass you or make the others feel bad. The others listen with rapt attention, Jungkook’s mouth in a little ‘o’ all throughout.

           Jin remains silent on the couch, as he usually does during these little meetings. He’ll occasionally comment on something or voice a question, but he tends to remain fairly quiet. Drinking in the information, eyes clear despite the late hour.

           It’s unnerving.

           “So…it’s not a bad injury?” Namjoon asks, crossing his arms.

           “No, she’s fine,” Yoongi reassures. “Just tired. She went straight to bed after I dropped her off.”

           Taehyung grins knowingly. “Adorable.”

           Everyone is silent as everyone turns to their thoughts, the same thing on everyone’s mind. It’s Hobi again that breaks the silence, stretching and yawning as he gets to his feet.

           “Well, that’s that. It’s over. Gentlemen,” he eyes everyone around the room, shuffling toward the hallway where the warmth of his bed calls to him. “It’s been a pleasure working with you.”

           “Wait!” Jungkook also hops to his feet, much more alert than the older boy. “What happens now?”

           There are a few non-committal answers from around the room, but two people remain silent. Meeting eyes from across the space, Jin and Yoongi share a silent agreement.

           Jin clears his throat, and it’s only then that the boys realize that it’s been hours since he last spoke. With a soft smile he utters, “We let her choose. Whatever she wants, if she wants to go back to normal or decides to date someone.” His eyes return to Yoongi, and suddenly the memory of two years prior is laid out before them. “Then…we let her go.”

           “I’m just saying, if he didn’t want you to find it, he would’ve hidden it in his underwear drawer. Sock drawer is a stupid way to go.”

           You sip at the horchata Gina brought over for you, huffing out a laugh. “You’re so weird.”

           Gina shrugs. “Just saying. So what did you get up to yesterday?”

           Yesterday. You had woken up with red eyes and puffy cheeks from all the crying you had done the night before. Slightly embarrassed but more feeling miserable for yourself, you had crawled to the shower and tried to get your thoughts straight.

           When you emerged, you had a couple of texts to welcome you. They were from Jimin and Taehyung, welcoming you back to the groupchat. There were plenty of happy emojis and balloons taking up the messages, enough to make you crack a smile. You shot back a thank you text, letting out a sigh of relief.

           It was good to be back.

           When Namjoon texted and tentatively asked about the state of your ankle and if you were open to them popping over, you took nearly an hour to decide. Nervous about seeing all of them, cautious because you had no idea what would happen if you were in the same room.

           Who would you radiate toward, without even realizing?

           It was then, when that question popped up, that you realized that you had known the answer all along.

           It was startling, how the answer had been there all along. So simple, yet so unattainable.  

           “The boys wanted to check in on me,” you sigh, glaring down at your ankle. It’s still sore, but much better today. Although it’s safe to say you won’t be flying kites anytime soon.

           “But…?”

           “The thought of all seven of them in my little apartment at the same time was overwhelming,” you admit. “I needed a minute. To think. And I know I’ve had weeks to think about it, but yesterday was the first time I felt like I could see the full picture…if that makes sense.”

           Gina nods thoughtfully, reaching over to refill your glass of horchata. The sun is steadily making its way to the horizon, another day wrapping up. “It does. You’ve been going out with someone different each week, you’re probably suffering from information overload after all of those dates and the confession on the pact…how are you not exhausted?”

           “I was yesterday. I was torn – Gina, I want to go back to normal so bad. Just the way it was.”

           “Ignorance is bliss.”

           You set your glass down, pushing back from the table and crossing your arms. “Wouldn’t that be better?” You muse. “That way, nobody gets hurt.”

           Gina tilts her head to one side, eyes flashing. A smirk forms on her face. “You wouldn’t be saying this if you hadn’t already decided on someone.” She leans forward in her seat, staring into your soul. “Who?”

           You school your features into a neutral position. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

           “No, no. You don’t get to shut me out. You have feelings for someone, don’t you!” Gina points an accusing finger at you, letting out a startled laugh. “You totally do! What went on in your head, yesterday? Or maybe you’ve loved them for a while, and this is what it took to realize it-”

           “I can’t do it, Gina.” Your eyes are wide as you plead more with yourself than her. “I can’t do that to the others.”

           “And what, you plan to just let him go?”

           Dropping your head into your hands, you squeeze your eyes shut. “Do I have another choice?”

           The scrape of the chair against the floor alerts you to Gina rising from her seat, and you expect her to leave. She has every right to, you’re frustrated with yourself as well. However, a second later she’s rubbing your back, urging you to look up. Once you do, she offers you a small smile.

           “You always have a choice.”

           Gina stays for a couple more hours, offering her support as you blubber on about how worried you are. While your heart is urging you to throw caution to the wind and go after what you’ve wanted for longer than you ever realized before, your mind does a great job of conjuring up different reactions from the others.

           All of them are depressing. Every time you close your eyes you’re met with the crestfallen expressions of your best friends. Scenarios play out in your head, where you’re blissfully happy for a few seconds before everything comes tumbling down.

           “You’ve gotta get out of your head,” Gina chides as she eases off the couch. “You’re miserable.”

           You sigh, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s just…I can’t do anything. I can’t. That’s horrible of me.”

           “They’re grown boys; they knew what they were getting themselves into with this. Just…tell me something before I head out.”

           “…ok.”

           Gina pauses before the door, hands on her hips. “Why him? Because from where I’m sitting, they all love you.”

           The question takes you by surprise, but the answer is rolling off your tongue in an instant. “I want to be loved, yes. But more than that…I want to be understood.” You stare at a framed photo on the wall, solemn. “He understands me.”

           You don’t hear when Gina leaves, the thoughts in your head too loud. Instead you stay seated on the couch, chewing on your lip. Wondering.

           Remembering.

           All the times he’d been there – he was always there for you, how could you never notice? – never drawing attention to himself. Just there. Just in case you needed him.

           What’s stopping you?

           A knock on the door stops your train of thought, and you hobble up to your feet. Swinging the door open you say, “Did you forget something?”

           Jin stands on your porch, clutching a garment bag to his chest. His ears are bright red, set aflame by the setting sun. He’s wearing his glasses, which he pushes up on his nose. “I…no?”

           “Oh!” You step back, wincing a little from your ankle. “I thought you were Gina! I…hey.”

           “Hey.” Shuffling on his feet, Jin looks down at the bag he’s holding, seeming to remember why he was here in the first place. “Oh, here. I know it’s a little late, but I got your dress dry cleaned and…well, yeah. Here you go.”

           His hands tremble a bit, but you don’t comment as you take the bag from him. “Thank you. Your sweater is actually hanging up in my room…why don’t you come in while I grab it?”

           “Can I?” Jin looks down at your doorstep, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t want to intrude…”

           “Just come in!” You call over your shoulder, already heading down the hallway. “This will only take a second. Besides, it’s cold outside.”

           The door clicks shut, Jin stepping inside and shoving his hands in his pockets. You rush inside your room, throwing your dress on a hanger in the closet and scanning your clothes for Jin’s blue sweater. When you find it – grinning at the whale on the front – you pause. Holding it in your hands, you take a deep breath.

           “Hey,” Jin’s voice rings out down the hallway. You catch a slight tremble in his tone, which is mirrored by your shaking hands. “I a-actually wanted to talk to you for a second. If that’s ok…?”

           Clearing your voice of the emotion that’s riding you, you respond. “Just come down here.”

           A second later Jin is tentatively peeking inside your room, giving you a nervous smile. His eyes then land on your dresser, widening a bit.

           “So you did steal my copy!”

           Gasping, you toss Jin’s sweater at him and lunge for the dresser. There’s the pact, out in the open for anyone to see. “I- I was gonna give it back-”

           “I can’t believe you’d steal from me.”

           “It was for a good cause!”

           Jin rolls his eyes, laughing as he snatches the pact from you and holds it up in the air. “Nuh-uh, I’m taking this home with me. You’ve had it for long enough.” He makes a point of folding it up and sticking it in his back pocket, staring down at you with an amused expression.

           Suddenly you’re transported to his living room, dancing in his arms. Staring up at him like he put the stars in the sky while he looks at you like you’re the forbidden fruit.

           Is that why he’s here, now? To finally give in to the temptation?

           From the way the smile slides off his lips, you can tell that he’s remembering the same moment. His mouth opens a bit, looking as though he’s about to speak. After a moment, it shuts. Then he slowly reaches out, arms encircling you as he studies your expression. Waiting for any moment of discomfort.

           The second Jin pulls you into his embrace and you rest your head against his chest, his shoulders deflate and he lets out a long sigh.

           It’s not a sigh of relief.

           “Do you remember the first time we hung out together? Jimin wanted to bring you to the Spring Day set, and it was freezing. We were all complaining about our toes falling off and yelling at Namjoon for writing about such a cold song.”

           You chuckle, nodding. Jin’s voice rumbles through his chest as he continues. “I thought that it was so embarrassing, too. We were complaining like kids in front of Jimin’s pretty friend. I figured that you’d never want to hang out with us again. I’ll never forget how angry Jimin was with us after, saying that we were probably making you uncomfortable. Obviously, we all said that it was stupid of him to bring you to a freezing music video set for our first meeting.”

           Jin tightens his grip, laying his cheek atop your head and swaying gently back and forth. You’re not sure if he even realizes that he does it, but you don’t ask. Not as he’s walking down memory lane. It feels like it’s been centuries since you first met.

           “You know what I remember the most about you from that day?”

           You hum, nuzzling in a little closer. Hanging on for just a moment longer.

           “You never complained. Like, at all.” Jin cups your chin, making you look up at him. He smiles softly, but his eyes are sad. “I thought it was a superpower or something, seriously. You just smiled and joked around with Jungkook and Tae. If you were cold or uncomfortable or even weirded out by us, you didn’t say anything.”

           You roll your eyes, latching your hands behind Jin’s back. “I was definitely weirded out, but I didn’t want Jimin to feel bad. He was so excited for me to meet you guys.”

           Jin chuckles, the sound momentarily warming you up. “But the point is, you didn’t complain. You’ve always been like that. Even now, being dragged on seven dates and having to deal with us figuring out our own feelings, you never once complained. You never backed away.”

           The sadness that lingers in Jin’s eyes has you tightening your hold, wondering how to get rid of that sorrow. Your train of thought is interrupted when Jin brushes back a strand of hair, softly tucking it behind your ear.

           “You are beautiful and a wonder. You will always be important to me, no matter where life takes us. You will always be that person that I’ll drop everything for, ok?” Jin takes another long, adoring look at you before reaching behind him and gathering your hands in his. He slowly pulls away from you, staring down at where he holds your hands. “I might be an idiot at times, but I can tell when I’m in the way.”

           As he takes a step back, you watch as he drops your hands. “Jin, wait,” you reach out, grasping his arm as he moves to turn away. “Jin- Seokjin, what’s going on-”

           “You and Yoongi have that in common, did you know that?” Jin offers you a close-lipped smile, placing his hand on yours where you cling to his jacket. His thumb swipes over your knuckles once – twice – before he’s stepping back yet again. “Neither of you are complainers. I mean sure, there’s the funny complaints that everyone makes. But he has a penchant for suffering silently. I’d say he’s a bit of a masochist, but that’d be a lie. He just cares.”

           Jin has made it to your doorway now, where he pauses and leans against the doorframe. He crosses his arms, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, a faraway look in his eyes. “I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.”

           “Jin,” you gasp out, “what are you doing?”

           One corner of his lips pull up in a smirk. “Me?” He shifts his weight to his other leg. “Letting go.”

           “What are you even talking about?”

           “Don’t get me wrong, I intend to complain. You’ll get an official complaint in the mail soon enough, just give it three to five business days to get here. But I realized something a little while ago: complainers always find some new to complain about. And while that sucks, it also means that they move on. They find something new, no matter how long it takes.”

           He keeps looking at you with that sad smile, and it’s ripping the ground out from under you. You want to scream, throw something, or perhaps dissolve into tears. But nothing happens. You just keep breathing.

           In.

           Then out.

           And Jin keeps speaking. He’s rambling now, something he does when he’s nervous. His brows are still furrowed, and you wonder if he’s making this up as he goes. If the only thing he knew what that he had to find a way in, only to find a way out.

           “As twisted as my logic sounds, I think it gives me hope. Eventually, I’ll be ok. Probably be complaining about the weather or maybe even a girl in no time. Just give me some time, and I’ll bounce back.”

           “Jin,” you croak out. “…you don’t complain, not about these things. Why are you doing this? S-stop doing this.”

           “But it’s like I said: Yoongi doesn’t complain. Jagiya, I know him. Better than you do.” Jin closes his eyes, pinching them shut before opening them again. “He’ll never get over you. I mean it. And if my logic holds true…that means that you’ll never move past him, either.”

           Folding his sweater over his arm, Jin steps back into the hallway. You step forward, your stomach churning.

           “Seokjin!”

           He hesitates for a single heartbeat, almost looking like he’ll turn back around and declare it all some twisted joke. Like he’ll pull you back into his arms and admit that he’s been inside his memories for the past two weeks, replaying “La Vie en Rose” as he lies awake at night.

           But he doesn’t. He refuses to look at you as he marches down the hallway. As he walks, he continues to speak.

           “I was angry that night, when you called him instead of me. When you accidentally deleted your essay. He left, and I was stuck at home, pining after you like some teenage boy. I think even then, I knew that it wouldn’t be me in the end. But I’d die trying.” He laughs, joking but it doesn’t come off very funny.

           It’s when he’s reached the door and goes to pull it open that you call out to him again, sounding like you’re on the verge of tears. “But it was you, wasn’t it?” You run a hand through your hair. “You wrote the note, o-on the back of the pact.”

           With his hand on the doorknob, Jin glances back at you over his shoulder. Now you understand why he couldn’t stand to look at you a moment earlier. Those are tears glistening in his eyes.

           He looks at you for a long moment, eyes so clear and bare that you can see the very moment he lays down his weapons and admits defeat. “Would it change anything?”

           He’s already twisting the doorknob, but just before he opens the door, he hesitates. Waiting for an answer, you realize. Some small part of him still pulses with hope, even after all he’s said.

           You can’t give that hope.

           “There’s a difference, you know,” Jin mumbles, eyes dropping. “Just because I loved you first doesn’t mean I can love you the best. I think sometimes the world forgets that.”

           And then he’s gone.

           In.

           Out.

           Perhaps the most shocking development has been the fact that you’re still breathing. When Jin leaves your apartment, the sky doesn’t fall. Your heart, while aching, doesn’t shatter into a million little pieces. The quiet hum of your dishwasher continues on, oblivious to all that’s transpired.

           A few tears slip down your cheeks, which you quickly wipe away. When your dishwasher buzzes, you drift over to it as though in a daze. Wiping your hands on your dishtowel, you move to open the dishwasher.

           But it’s that dishtowel with stitched stars that Yoongi gifted you forever ago. Stars.

           You are the stars I’ve been reaching for ever since that night.

           Snatching the towel from where it hands off your oven, you fumble for your phone. Dishes long forgotten, you bring the phone up to your ear and nervously tap your foot. “C’mon, c’mon…”

           “Jagiya?”

           “Hobi!”

           “Hey, what’s up? How’s your ankle?”

           You chew on your lip, struggling to regain composure. “I- yeah. The ankle’s fine. Look, I need to cash in my question now.”

           Hobi chuckles on the other side of the phone. “That’s what I was afraid of. Wanna come over to the studio?”

           “Be there soon.”

           It’s dark outside, countless stars winking down at you as you hurry inside the Hybe building. You throw a glare up at them, wondering if they were in on it the entire time. If the stars have always been aware that Min Yoongi had no interest in them, much preferring your company to the twinkling lights in the heavens.

It’s your first time in here, the boys having recently moved into the new building. As such, you’re instantly disoriented. At a loss for where to go, you call Hobi.

“Hey, where…?”

“Turn around!”

You whirl around to see the elevator doors sliding open, Hobi hopping out. “Hey, you made it!” He instantly pulls you in for a hug, which you gratefully receive. “Everything ok, jagi?”

It’s then that you realize how you must look. Tear-stained cheeks and tired eyes don’t make for the best combination. “Oh…yeah. I’m alright.”

Hobi doesn’t believe you at all, but he doesn’t push it. Not here, out in the open lobby. Instead he pulls you into the elevator, punching one of the buttons. “Long day?”

You laugh quietly, leaning up against the wall of the elevator. “A little, yeah. What about you? What are you up to?”

“Oh, we’re recording a new Japanese OST. Wanna listen to it once we get up there?”

“Is that even a question?”

It feels unbelievably good to be here with Hobi, falling into an easy conversation despite the nervousness coursing through your veins. Once you reach the eighth floor, Hobi leads you down the hallway toward a closed door.

“What’s that?” He asks, pointing to where you still hold the dishtowel in your hands.

You blink, not even realizing that you brought it in with you. “Oh…um…part of my question, I think?”

Hobi chuckles, pausing outside of the door. “I was wondering when you were gonna use that question.”

At the end of your date with Hobi two months ago, he’d allowed you two questions about whatever you wanted to know. You only asked one, wanting to keep the other for a future time. You never thought it would lead to this.

“Ok, let’s head inside.”

Your eyes widen, but Hobi doesn’t notice as he pushes the door open and strides inside. The sight that greets you makes you want to sink through the floor.

Namjoon and Jungkook sit in front of the recording equipment, while Taehyung and Jimin lounge on the couches at the back of the room. Yoongi is busy on the other side of the glass, eyes closed as he raps into the mic. His dark hair is straight, kissing his brows while he clenches his fists at his sides,

You’re frozen in place as suddenly you’re surrounded by his voice. It’s lilting, more like singing than rapping. The words coming from his mouth stop your heart.

“Don't have to be right, just wanted you to stay the way you are, kindhearted, always smiling, but-”

“Hey!” Taehyung jumps up from his seat, alerting everyone to your presence. “You’re here!”

Jungkook swivels around in his chair, wide eyes crinkling as he grins. Namjoon quietly greets you, cheeks pink as he struggles to focus on the task at hand.

It’s Jimin that notices how lost you look. “Everything alright?” He ambles over to you, bending his knees a bit to look at you. He grabs your shoulder, eyes scanning your face. “Jagiya? Want to sit down?”

But you’re still clinging to Hobi, one hand wrapped up in the fabric of his jacket. “I…actually, Hobi, weren’t you gonna show me your new studio?”

You look back at Hobi, aware that everyone in the room is now staring at him as well with confused looks. You give Hobi a pleading look, but not before you see someone on the other side of the glass.

Yoongi stands before the microphone, frowning as he looks at you. As you lock eyes, he tilts his head to one side and mouths a single word.

Jin?

“I…uh, yeah. Yeah, let’s go look at it first and then come right back, right?” Hobi says, the confusion clear in his voice. Thankfully, he doesn’t question you and instead steps back through the door. “Be right back, guys.”

Just before you walk away, you turn back to try to communicate to Yoongi that you’re here for him, not Jin. But he’s gone, the side door to the studio still swinging from where he walked out.

           Your head is still spinning by the time Hobi heads into his own studio, hardly pausing to admire it before he’s whipping around to face you. The second he closes the door, he’s crossing his arms and giving you a worried look.

           “What was that all about?” He asks. “What’s going on?”

           “Hobi,” you croak out. “Hobi, I need help. I need answers.”

           Plopping down on his cushiony swivel chair, you squint at him. You can feel a headache coming on.

           “I can’t give you the answers if you don’t ask the questions, jagi,” Hobi chides, pulling up another chair to sit in front of you. His gaze catches on your wrist. “You still wear the bracelet I made you?”

           You pause, glancing down at the bracelet. “Of course. Everyday.”

           Hobi smiles softly to himself before leaning back and letting out a long sigh. “Ok. Tell me what’s going on.” He eyes the star-spangled dishtowel still in your hands. “I assume this is about Yoongi?”

           “I…how did you know?”

           He nods to the towel, chuckling softly. “He came to me asking if I knew how to embroider. I didn’t, but I got him a little embroidery kit to practice with on tour. It cracked me up when he ended up buying plain white dishtowels and would spend his time backstage embroidering little stars on them. I didn’t know he was planning on giving them to you at the time…do you guys have some sort of inside jokes with stars or something?”

           You stare at Hobi like he’s just grown a second head. “He what?”

           “What?” Hobi blinks. “Did you not know that he stitched them?”

           Of course not. When Yoongi had gifted you the dishtowels, you’d thought it was sweet, if a bit odd. You even remember joking with him about it, saying that he’d paid off the neighborhood grandma to do it for him.

           “No! I never knew that! Why would I…why would he…”

           “So…you don’t have an inside joke about stars?”

           You sigh, throwing a hand over your eyes. “How could I be so blind?” Slumping down in the chair you ask miserably, “I mean, it makes sense, I guess…he’s done so many things-”

           At this, Hobi stops you. “Like what?”

           There is a long, long list of things that Yoongi did for you that he never told the boys.

           “Or there’s that time he passed up on his Laker’s tickets because I had that end-of-year project due, and I was worried that nobody would show up to my presentation.”

           You remember that with a jolt. You had to give a twenty minute presentation on the effects of addiction, something that hardly seemed like a riveting topic. The general public was invited to the lecture hall, but despite your valiant efforts handing out fliers and sending e-vites, you were convinced that it was going to be a flop.

           It was. There were about seventeen people scattered about the hall that typically seated three hundred. Your hands were shaking and you thought you might burst into tears on stage because you felt like an utter failure, but then movement caught your eyes.

           Sneaking in and taking a seat on the very back row, sat Yoongi. His bucket hat was pulled low across his eyes and a couple of body guards tried (and failed) to looked inconspicuous as they took seats near him. When you stuttered, he help up a thumbs up and quietly encouraged you to go on.

           Jin’s words from earlier come back to you. I think he doesn’t know what to do with it, all those feelings. He just cares so much, about everyone. For you.

           By this point, you’re exhausted with all of the things Yoongi has done over the years. How blind you’ve been to his unadulterated kindness. Hobi senses it, seeing your shoulders droop. He falls silent, allowing you to sort out your thoughts before you speak.

           “Does he still want me?”

           Looking up at Hobi, you allow yourself to feel the question at you repeat it. “How could he still want me? After how blind I’ve been to my own feelings?”

           Hobi smiles softly, leaning forward to take your hand in his. He gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Jagi…I don’t think Yoongi completely understood his own feelings most of the time.”

           “But he’s done so much-”

           “That he has. But when you love someone, you don’t do those kinds of things for gain. He didn’t do those things to make you fall in love with him.” Hobi laughs to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. “He did it because you’re the right person. And when you’re with the right person, it’s simple. Does he still want you? Simple.” He shrugs. “Yes.”

           Yoongi is gone, Jungkook tells you when the boys eventually come knocking at Hobi’s studio. They sit in a semi-circle, pondering all that they’ve learned. Hobi had quickly explained the situation to them, and despite your worry, nothing happened.

           Nobody yelled, nobody banished you from their life.

           Instead, Jimin had laughed. Laughed.

           “Pay up, loser,” he’d commanded as he elbowed Taehyung. Taehyung whined and said that he’d Venmo him in a second.

           “Wait, you made a bet?” You shriek. “About who I’d go for?!”

           The boys all laugh nervously, Namjoon slowly edging toward the door. You snap your fingers at him, glaring. “You don’t get to leave, Kim. Were you a part of this?”

           “I…yeah…”

           “But Yoongi’s gone,” Jungkook repeats. “Aren’t you gonna tell him?”

           You sigh. “How am I supposed to tell him? Just march up to him and throw myself at him?”

           Namjoon shrugs. “I mean, that’d work for me.”

           “Yeah,” Jungkook chuckles darkly. “Just go for that.”

           Hobi rolls his eyes, leaning forward in his seat. “Just do whatever you feel comfortable with, jagiya. But do it soon. You’ll psych yourself out if you wait much longer.”

           It feels like you’ve time-traveled back to middle school, gossiping around the lunch table about your crush. Somehow, that’s comforting. While there’s a bit of awkwardness in the air, you can’t help but feel like you’re back.

           “Oh,” Taehyung snaps his fingers, mouth open in a little ‘o’, “but whatever you do, make sure there’s cookies. Or some sort of dessert.”

           “What?”

           “You know, to celebrate if he accepts your confession, or to make you feel better if he rejects you.”

           Gasping, you jump up to your feet. You point an accusing finger at Hobi. “But you said that he’d still want me!”

           “He does! Taehyung, take that back right now.”

           Tae stands up, his grin softening as he steps forward. That’s when you see how much they’ve been hiding behind their playful demeanors. For you. To help you.

           Wrapping you up in a hug, Taehyung squeezes you tight. “It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” And then, quieter so no one else can hear, “We’ll be fine.”

           You’ve never considered yourself to be a nervous baker, but here you are. Sliding another cookie sheet into the oven while two batches are cooling on your kitchen table.

           By the time you made it home last night, you could hardly keep your eyes open. While sleep did come to you relatively quickly, you were wide awake the second the sun crested the horizon. Wide awake, and a nervous wreck.

           Is this how the boys felt when they came to take you out? If so, they deserve a medal of bravery. You’re still within the comfort of your own home, but you can hardly breathe properly.

           Perhaps that has something to do with the fact that Yoongi just sent you a text that he’s on his way. Bouncing on your feet, you run your hands under the cold water in an effort to rid yourself of clammy palms. Drying your hands on the infamous dishtowel, you smile softly.

           Everything is going to be ok.

           Yoongi doesn’t get there for a long time. It’s long enough that you’re worried, and you pick up your phone to call him. A second later, you hear another phone ringing just outside your door. Hardly believing it, you rush toward the front door only to pause.

           “Here we go.”

           Swinging the door open, you come face to face with a guilty looking Yoongi. He’s halfway back down the stairs, but freezes in his steps as he hears the door open.

           “Yoongi?” You’re absolutely bewildered. “Where are you going?”

           Letting out a breathy laugh, Yoongi slowly begins trekking back up the stairs. “Oh…um…I thought I left something in the car.”

           “That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

           “What, are we not lying to each other today?”

           Smiling softly, you shake your head and open the door a little wider. “No. Not today, I’m afraid.”

           Something akin to fear flashes in Yoongi’s eyes at your words, but a second later he’s back to normal. “Smells great. Are you baking cookies?”

           “I’ve baked about a thousand, yeah. Can’t stop. It’s a condition.” You ramble as you turn and head into the kitchen, hoping that he’s following. The sound of his footsteps confirms that he is. “Want some?”

           When he doesn’t answer, you turn around to see what’s going on.

           Yoongi stands beside your table, fists clenched in the sleeves of his cardigan. He’s practically staring holes into the sweet treats, brows furrowed as he takes a deep breath. When he exhales, it’s shaky.

           “I’m fine, you know,” he grinds out, not looking at you. “You didn’t need to bake me cookies. I’m not…I’m not mad.”

           “Mad? What?”

           “Isn’t this why you brought me over? To let me down easy?” His voice is quiet, yet every word is like a bullet. “That’s why you were at the studio last night, wasn’t it? You were talking to the others about Jin.”

           Your heart stops.

           Is that why he disappeared last night? He thought that you’d made your decision, and it wasn’t him?

           “Yoongi, that’s not-”

           He’s already stepping back, refusing to look at you. His eyes are trained on the floor as he stumbles back toward the entryway, looking like he’s doing his best not to full out sprint. “I’m fine, jagiya. I know you’re worried sick about us, but don’t worry. I already told you not to worry, don’t you remember? I shouldn’t have said all of those stupid things on the beach…is that why you brought me over? You felt like I needed some sort of special treatment?”

           You take off after him, unable to believe what you’re hearing. “Yoongi, listen to me. This is for you. It’s all for you.”

           But he doesn’t hear you, he’s busy fumbling with his shoes that he slipped off beside the door. His hands are shaking, but he still refuses to look at you. “I’m so sorry for worrying you,” he says earnestly. His black hair is falling in his eyes, but it doesn’t shield his pink cheeks from your eyes. “I…wow, this is humiliating, isn’t it? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come-“

           “I invited you-”

           “-but I didn’t want to worry you even more, so I came over – why can’t I get these shoes on?!” He collapses to his knees, dropping his head into his hands as he finally gives up on his shoes. “Even that was a stupid mistake,” he whispers, never one to raise his voice. “I bought these for our date but then I realized that they would be stupid to wear to the beach.” He laughs at himself, no humor in the sound.

           You take a look at the dark shoes, which appear to be made of leather. They lace up, but it’s obvious that they’re not broken in yet. Crouching down beside Yoongi, who keeps his face hidden in his hands, you struggle to find words.

           “They look nice,” you mumble, voice raw. Have you been screaming? Or perhaps it’s the emotional exhaustion, finally setting in. “Very pretty.”

           “I wanted to wear them for you. Just once.” Taking a deep breath, Yoongi sits back and brings his knees up to his chest. He back presses against the back of your couch.

           And you’re here. Sitting beside him in the entryway to your small apartment. So far away from where you thought you’d be.

           As Yoongi glares at his shoes, you notice just how bloodshot his eyes are. Like he hasn’t slept in days.

           “Isn’t it odd?” He muses, tired eyes dragging over to meet yours. You’re unable to breathe as he stares at you without the barriers he usually puts up for himself. For the first time you can ever remember, Yoongi looks at you and lets you see everything. Perhaps he’s too tired to mask the longing anymore.

           Your voice comes out as nothing more than a whisper. “What’s odd?”

           He inhales sharply before breathing out slowly. “After everything, I’m still trying to impress you.”

           The small confession strikes you like a bolt of lightning, and you screw your eyes shut. Once the feeling passes and you’ve composed yourself, you open your eyes again to find Yoongi’s again on his shoes. He nibbles on his bottom lip as he reaches out and eases his shoe from your hands. Then, he slips it on his foot.

           As he begins to tie the laces, you open your mouth to say all of the things you should have a long time ago.

           “I see you everywhere I go.” Your eyes are trained on his deft fingers as he pauses for a moment before continuing to lace up his shoe. “For a long time, I didn’t know what to do about it. I just brushed it off as a side effect of our friendship. In my mind, it was better to ignore it than to face it, because then what? I could never have you.”

           His hands are trembling again as he finishes his right shoe and reaches for the left.

           “You’ve always been so good. There whenever I needed you, there just in the off-chance I called. On stand-by, like my own personal assistant.” You chuckle, perhaps a little insane by this point. “And I convinced myself that whatever that was between us, it was enough. It was just gonna be me and my seven best friends for the rest of my life. But then…things started to change. You guys challenged me to view you as something more.”

           He’s nearly finished tying his shoe now, your time is nearly out. But he fumbles, unable to quite finish.

           “That night you guys came up with the dating idea, I knew I was walking into a trap. I wasn’t worried about anyone crossing any boundaries, I was worried about me making the biggest mistake of my life. Sitting there I think I was starting to realize I had feelings for you, and I was one slip-up away from hurting everyone else.”  Now he stops breathing. But his fingers are still slowly working at the laces. “I cared for you then, but I loved you when you showed up at my door seven dates later.”

           He’s just managed to finish tying his shoe when you stop speaking. He doesn’t speak, only staring down at those laces with wide eyes as he processes what you just said. You take his silence in stride, still talking. Still confessing.

           “I didn’t know how to tell you that I was torn between the what-if’s and the what-is. That I was drowning in the possibilities everyone was offering me, but that when I was with you I was finally able to see the world for what it is. But you just said, ‘I know’ and I thought that you did. I figured you knew, because you’re you, how could you not know what I was thinking? You always do.”

           Yoongi stops nibbling on his lip long enough to voice a question, his voice hoarse. “The world for what it is…what is it?”

           You take courage in his curiosity, deeming this a good development. “It’s only tolerable because you’re in it.”

           He falls silent again, deep in his thoughts.

           “Yoongi,” you call softly, heart hammering against you ribs. “Could you look at me for a second?”

           He does, eyes wide with confusion.

           Those eyes, the ones you see everywhere you go. Crinkled up in laughter, joking with you over something stupid. Proudly watching you from the back row as you present to a small crowd. Filled with adventure as you sneak your hand into his pocket at the haunted house, inviting you to dive inside.

           It was those eyes that you saw looking back at you that night with Jungkook, out of breath and lost as suddenly it wasn’t Jungkook kissing you, but Yoongi. That forbidden dream become real as you squeezed your eyes shut and allowed yourself to pretend for a moment longer before pulling away.

           It’s now, looking into Yoongi’s dark eyes that hold so much promise, that you find it easier than ever to say what you should have said that night when he showed up to help you with your essay. Looking frazzled but ready to swim the entire ocean if it would help you. Instead, you had just given him a lingering hug before excusing yourself to go to your room and sleep.

           Sleep hadn’t found you that night, because you had been awake and asking your ceiling why a man like Min Yoongi would do anything for you.

           “Yoongi,” you whisper. “I love you.”

           He doesn’t move, but just blinks. Once. Twice. You see the doubt swirling in his eyes, so when you reach out to pull at his shoelace, you repeat it.

           “I love you.”

           One shoe at a time, you untie the laces. You undo the pain you’ve caused him, break down the barriers he put up.

           “I love you.”

           You continue to repeat the words, focusing on his shoes and not daring to look up at him just yet. Not until you get his shoes off, because then you feel like he can’t run away.

           So you undo the knots and repeat those words with a shaking voice. “I love you, Yoongs.” When you go to slip the shoes from his feet, he helps you, kicking them off and reaching forward to place his hand under your chin and make you look at him.

           Yoongi is crying when you look at him, the tears falling silently. A part of you wonders if he even realizes that he’s crying.

           “You…” he swallows, those eyes so wide. “…love me?”

           It’s simple.

           “Yes.”

           Yoongi furrows his brows again, trying to understand everything that’s happening. “But…Jin.”

           There will be time to explain everything. For now, you answer the question Jin asked you yesterday, standing before this very door. “The pact, the note. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t change how I feel. He came over yesterday to ‘let go’, he said.”

           Something like recognition flashes across Yoongi’s face at those two words, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he nods slowly, trying to follow what you’re saying. “And you feel…”

           “I feel very in love with you, yes.”

           What happens next is burned into your memory for the rest of your life.

           Yoongi sits up, reaching across to you in a flash, pulling you until you’re falling forward. He lets out a shaky breath, pulling you into his lap just like he did on the beach. And as he holds you, he laughs. He’s still laughing as he plants a soft kiss to your forehead. He’s grinning as he presses his lips to your cheeks.

           Tears are still falling down his cheeks as he brushes his lips against your own. Hesitantly, as though worried you might pull away and tell him it was all a joke.

You return the kiss fervently, speaking in a language only you two can understand. He pulls away, staring down at you as though surprised to find that you’re really here and not just a figment of his imagination.

“I love you,” he whispers. And then he’s kissing you in earnest.

Breathlessly, desperately, and with a touch of insanity that only comes after spending two nights wide awake and heartbroken. As he holds you tight and kisses you harder, you know that he’s healing himself with each touch.

           One kiss, one shattered fragment of his heart sliding back into place.

           Your hands wrap around his neck and wind into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as he gasps and whispers those three words again. “I love you.”

           When the smell of burnt cookies pulls you apart several minutes later, Yoongi wraps his arms around your waist and sticks to you like glue. He rests his chin on your shoulder, planting a few lazy kisses along your jaw that sets your skin aflame. “Mm, I love you,” he mumbles between kisses.

           Placing the burnt cooking atop the stove, you chuckle. “I know.”

           “Agh,” Yoongi groans, burying his head in your shoulder. “I thought you meant something different, ok?”

           “I know.”

           “Yah! I was trying to be understanding of your feelings I thought you had for Jin!”

           Reaching to turn off the oven, you grin. “I’m never letting you live that down.”

           As Yoongi feigns annoyance while shoveling cookies into his mouth, you marvel at all it took to get to this point. Yoongi notices your attention, puffy cheeks turning pink. But he doesn’t shy away, instead he silently offers you a cookie.

           “So…” he begins, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ve been thinking.”

           “Dangerous.”

           “Well, I know how much you like bad boys.”

           “Mm, true.”

           Yoongi laughs along with you before continuing. His eyes sparkle like the night sky, drawing you in. “Are you free this Saturday?”

main masterlist || Help support me? ko-fi

thank you all for reading! I’ll be back with an inside look at the pact as well as answering any questions you may have. Feel free to send your questions in! 

if you enjoyed this series, please don’t hesitate to share it. reblog, talk to a friend (which many of you have done, so thank you!!) recommend it to fic recs blogs, anything. chances are if you enjoyed it, others will, too.

Love you all! 

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[caravelmp3]

FEAR AND LOATHING IN DOMESTICATION

pairing: josh kiszka x reader warning(s): mentions of alcohol, references to sex, depression, & anxiety  synopsis: in better terms, josh kiszka is a rolling stone, and when the pandemic causes the band to settle down for an undisclosed amount of time, reader helps josh come out of his slump note: title & reference to that one interview. you know the one. as someone with a fear of domestication as well, i related so hard to josh when he talked about settling down, and this came out of that. it’s just a lil something !! also posted on ao3 if you would like to check it out there instead. hope you all enjoy !! x 

Josh was a vagabond, a nomad, living a peripatetic lifestyle of hopping from city to city overnight by bus or jet, bouncing between venues and interviews as if he was born to do so. Staying in three-star motel rooms in the middle of nowhere became a part of his lifestyle, one that he became quite adjusted to after three years on the go. Even while visiting home he was between family and friend houses, checking in on old stomping grounds, visiting studios hours away, anything to stay busy. In the clearest sense of terms, he was a rolling stone.

So, as everyone imagined it would happen, he began to lose his sense of self in 2020. One second the band were planning the release of an album, preparing to hit the road and play stadiums in South America with Metallica in the spring, and then the next they were hit with the news of cancellations and push-backs to everything they had been working towards. With the rise of a pandemic they were forced into a hiatus and into the first real break any of them had received, if they didn’t count the few days visiting home last holiday season.

He and the rest of the band hunkered down in Nashville and Josh started to live in his worst fear - domesticity. He was waking up at the same time every day in the same city, he was living the same life day after day, and it became old very quickly. While catching up on rest and exploring a new city was fun at first, it started to look like every other city before long. The adventure he would wake up to with excitement was no longer around. He had been forced to settle down, and he felt like a trapped animal trying to gnaw its own leg off.

And like the rest of the band and the management team, you hated seeing him that way.

The relationship between you and Josh was short, but you knew Josh for years, and you noticed the differences in his personality immediately once you followed him to Nashville following the shut down of your own job.

You once swung by the studio with a surprise lunch for the boys and the team and he was struggling to write lyrics on a notepad in the other room, surrounded by crumpled and balled sheets of paper. He would stay up later at night scrolling through airline websites for flights out of Nashville to random cities (as long as he was traveling, he told himself), and he shifted through hobbies to find anything that stuck (which eventually was reading and painting) (there was a corner of the living room filled with stacks of books and canvas paintings).

And you tried your best, even when times were hard on you, too. In order to boost Josh’s spirits and get his mind off the persistent idea that he was stuck in time, you attempted baking new treats and made him try them after dinner, you dabbled in bartending and made new drinks with tequila, set up painting dates in the backyard after work, bought books from second-hand stores you thought he would enjoy, and bought new and random vinyl for the nights spent in during summer storms.

But the bright blue, cloudless summer skies and warm breezes rustling the trees of summer became the red of maples and the bronze of oaks of autumn. Everyone hoped things would be different, maybe even just slightly, but nothing had changed at all. The band was still in Nashville, making the best of their time off to expand the album and the universe it was set in, and you were back to working, but only remotely, so Josh insisted you stayed with them instead of traveling back home at seemingly the height of the worst so far.

When the long, hot days turned into cooler mornings and long nights with the sun setting at five p.m., the effect of the year had finally hit everyone. Everyone was tired, they felt defeated.

So in one last desperate attempt to boost spirits and morale, everyone set off on their own adventure and escaped Nashville in the early days of December. Danny was going to Los Angeles, Sam was going skiing in Montana, and you knew that Josh and Jake needed their own trip. So after a few phone calls and exchanged emails over a week, you booked a trip for the twins and their family in Key West. It was something small - a rented RV for the dreaded sixteen-hour drive south, but what awaited them was a week in a rented beach house and days on a boat in the Gulf.

You booked it for everyone, you wanted the boys and their family to let loose and spend some time together before work drove them away again, but you weren’t going to lie and say you didn’t book it with Josh in mind. He was a fan of the beach and islands, history, and the water and sun and sand, and after months hunched over a studio coffee table writing and working endlessly on the album design, he deserved time to himself, to recover, to recoup.

You told him before bed on Thanksgiving day. The Kiszka family had come down from Michigan to celebrate the holiday, and they did with dinner and a fire in the pit in the backyard with music and plaid blankets and smores under the stars. After staying up talking to his mom, Josh had come to bed last with the lingering scent of fire smoke in his hair and Corona on his breath, and he met you under the covers, nestling his face in the crook of your neck before pressing a soft kiss against your skin while wishing you goodnight.

Humming, you rolled over and rolled into him. He chuckled and wrapped an arm around you, and that’s when you, in a sleep-deprived state, began to rattle off all of your plans,

“Tell your parents to stay for another week.” You said, eyes still closed, half-asleep.

Josh paused. “Why?” It wasn’t something he was opposed to, but it caught him by surprise.

“I booked a trip for the rest of us. While Danny and Sam are gone.” You laid your head on his shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest. “We leave for Key West in four days.”

And the shot of adrenaline that ran through Josh was something he hadn’t felt in quite a long time. The last time he got excited about going anywhere was to a new record shop that opened up a few streets over from the house. He quickly sat up in the bed, looking down at you (now laying sideways) in the dark with a smile.

“You’re fucking joking,”

You laughed and reached out for his hand. “Not at all,” you said bringing his hand up to kiss the palm, “I’m going to pick up an RV in a couple of days, and we can surprise your parents and take them shopping for clothes and everything else we need.”

Out of what seemed like a rush of euphoria, Josh threw himself on top of you, peppering your face with kisses and you laughed at the show of affection and at the tickle of the growing mustache he managed to grow (and pull off). You turned your head, holding his cheeks, and kissed him.

“Now, come on, let’s get some sleep.”

“Well that’s unlikely - now I’m going to lay here and think about all the dumb shit we can do.” He said, sliding under the covers and sliding an arm around you.

You just laughed and nestled your cheek against his chest, listening in to the quiet shuffling in the hallway outside the door of everyone going to bed, to the ticking sound of the clock on the wall, and then to Josh’s voice,

“Do you think they have pirate themed dinner cruises?”

“If they do, I’m sure you’ll find out about it.”

And he did.

(There wasn’t one.)

But you found so much more than you two ever dreamed of. Trading dreary Nashville for a bright and warm island, you welcomed the hot breeze and sun-kissed skin.

And even though there wasn’t a pirate themed dinner cruise, you watched Josh come alive in a new environment. You strolled hand-in-hand with him through the butterfly and nature conservatory, letting him rave about the multicolored birds and point at flowers he thought you would like while capturing them on film. On Duval Street he pulled you to get caricature portraits done, he ordered shots for everyone in the bar after a night spent swimming. He roamed Dry Tortugas National Park with Jake, admiring the view and history within the brick fort walls, and first thing one morning he pulled you out of bed to get breakfast and visit the Ernest Hemingway Home, so you sat with him on a bench in the morning light and drank coffee and pet the roaming cats that passed by.

The last night on the island you woke up naked without Josh beside you, and you turned to see him sitting on the balcony with the white sheer curtains billowing around him, writing in the journal he always kept on his person. A smile tugged on the corners of your lips.

Josh was falling in love with life again.

And you were falling in love with life again, too, because Josh was so passionate about living it.

[bugsy-maria]

Winchesters x Depressed Sister! Reader

@supernerdycookietrashblr Requested: I was wondering if you willing /comfortable to write this a Winchester brothers x sister reader where the reader is depressed harms themselves and feels like she not good enough and is a drug addict like does weed and other drugs drinks to relieve her pain and her brothers found out and are not happy it and the reader just not having it and doesn't want help and can't handle being lectured about her brothers so she runs away and overdoses and her brothers find her but in the end her brothers help her in recovery and it fluffy in the end

And can the reader age around 16-19 is up too you i hope this is ok for u if not I can change it

Age 16:

"You did well out there, kid." dean spoke from in front of me.

"We're proud of you." I felt Sam put his hand on my shoulder.

"Yay!" I squeak out with a wide smile prominent on my face. I got into the back of the impala, Dean in the driver's seat and Sam in the passenger. I rest my head on the head of the seat next to me and let the all to the familiar rumble of the Impala consume me.

I have been living with Sam and Dean for about 3 years. they saved me from a werewolf attack in an alley, and once they found out that I didn't have a home anymore they took me in.

I close my eyes, remembering the lies they just told me. I couldn't ever believe them because they always lie. 'we're proud of you.' what a load of crap. I did nothing but mess up the entire hunt and they have the guts to lie to my face like that?

Age 17:

My legs tread along the sidewalk, my knees barely bending from the cuts on them. my bag seems much heavier now and my legs are like lead. I flip my hood up as I walk into a gas station, leaving my bag outside. I walk over to the alcohol section and grab some bottles of the cheap whiskey that dean gets. I put the bottles of whiskey on the counter and take out my wallet.

"ID.," the cashier says in a monotone voice. I look up and show him the fake ID that Dean made so I could get better access to places during hunts. the man put the bottles in a brown paper bag before handing the items back to me.

I snatched the bag and quickly made my way out the door. I grabbed my bag and rushed off home. Sam and Dean are out on a hunt that I couldn't go on because I had finals. I make my way to my room in the bunker and drop my bag on the bed that I now only lay awake on.

I rummage through the bottom drawer of my dresser, though the pairs of pants are a small little box that holds probably the biggest secret of my life. I take the box and liquor with me as I make my way out of the bunker and into the woods until I hit a clearing where a cliff is.

my legs hang off the edge as I set my items down. I open the box and take out my little white roll of happiness. I light it with my black lighter and breathe it in. I sit there for about 10 minutes repeating the action before I one of the bottles I bought earlier.

I take a swing and feel the sting of the drink in my throat. I bring the joint back up to my mouth. It's been about two hours since I have come to the cliff. since then the sun has set and my vision has gone hazy.

~~~~~3 months later~~~~~

"Are you ok kid? we never see you around anymore." Dean sits in front of me at a nearby diner.

"Yup. I just haven't been getting a whole lot of sleep and the stress from school isn't making it easier." I rub the back of my neck. a forced awkward smile painted on my lips.

"Well if you ever need to talk about it we're here for you, y'know." Sam, who is sitting next to me, gives me a one-armed smile. the contact almost breaks me down, but I hold the tears for my room.

I just have to keep reminding myself that I don't mean that much to them as they do to me.

~~~~~2 months later~~~~~

"Drugs?!" Dean shouts I rub the temples of my head, the headache only getting worse with all of the yelling.

"Dean." Sam's voice came from a corner of the room.

"Of all of the things to do you chose drugs!"

"Can you stop yelling," I whispered out.

"Dean." Sam's voice came sterner. Dean, having finally taken notice, looked over at the giant in the corner of the room holding an empty bottle of whiskey. a heavy sigh escapes Dean's lips.

"You made a lot of stupid decisions."

"You think she doesn't know that?" Sam forcefully chuckled at the end. "We need to talk, don't go anywhere."

"Not that she can look at her, she can't even talk." the door clicks close. I let out a breath of air that I didn't realize I was holding. I looked up to see the items taken away. I knew this day was going to be coming soon so I made a stash.

I quickly stuffed what I knew id need for the next couple of days in a bag while ignoring the pounding in my head. I slipped out of my room and ran out of the garage. I ran into the woods and to the cliff.

once there I quickly drank a bottle of beer that I got the other day. I broke the bottle and grabbed one of the shards. if I wanted this plan to work I'd have to think fast. I tightly gripped the shard in my hand and carved a sigil in my forearm. I knew that once Sam and Dean saw that I wasn't in my room anymore they would try and get Cass to look for me. I wanted to be alone for the next few days.

I practically crank myself to death's doorstep, hours upon hours of smoking and drinking.

Age 18:

I sit at the table in the library working on a school project for AP Bio. to be honest I don't even want to be in any AP classes but ill take any college credits I can take.

"What's this?" I hear Dean's gruff voice fill the room. I look up to see him picking up my glass from the table.

"My juice?" I responded questionably.

"Apple, nice." he set it down i little bit embarrassed.

"You thought it was beer didn't you?" I saw even more blood rise to his cheeks.

"Maybe." he looked away.

"Dean you have to trust her a bit more than that," Sam spoke up.

"I know, but I don't want her to get hurt again."

"Dean, I went through that rehab hell for months, there is no way I'm going back." I chuckled out a bit.

"I know I'm sorry." he draped his arms around my shoulders, his chin resting on my head.

"You know we love you right?"

"Of course I do." I looked back down at my work,

"Good." he planted a kiss on the top of my head before, "Don't ever do anything stupid like that ever again, got it, kid?"

"Yes sir!" I smiled over my shoulder at him.

"Idiot." he playfully pushed my head down. I continued my work, wanting nothing more than to make them proud of me again.

[tomtenadia]

Remember us - part 4

Hello lovelies,

It’s Thursday evening and I have some angst coming your way :)

Please enjoy part 4 of Remember Us

CW: mention of depression and miscarriage

--------

Rowan had the week from hell. Rehab had been relentless and Dorian had taken him to the gym everyday, but at least now he could say that he was able to walk the length of the walking bars and back. In the last couple of days Dorian had pushed for him to start using crutches, insinuating to the fact that the doctor was thinking about discharging him.

On top of the pain from rehab he was still punishing himself for what had happened with Aelin. Every morning he woke up and the first thing he did was to look at his phone for a reply from her, but nothing ever came.

The doctors think they might discharge me in a few days. Dorian is making me a pro at using crutches.

Maybe a good news might cheer her up.

He tried to watch tv but lost interest very quickly so he went back to his phone. He had been reading the whole thread of messaged between him and Aelin and discovered some interesting tidbits. They bickered a lot but from the text messages it looked as if they would always make up in the end. He also found some texts that made him blush wildly. But what was always present was love. That he knew was real.

He was absorbed in the texts that he did not notice the woman who had entered his room.

She was blonde, the same golden shade that Aelin had.

“Hi Rowan,” she greeted him walking fully into the room “I brought you your favourite biscuits. Hospital food is atrocious.”

The stranger placed the box on the nightstand “orange oatmeal cookies.”

He looked at her puzzled.

“I am Evalin. I am Aelin’s mum and your mother in-law.”

Rowan straightened his back, wanting to make a good impression, realising a moment later that the woman knew him already.

She took a seat on the chair near his bed “how are you doing?”

He had good vibes from the woman and he was impressed just how much her daughter resembled her “Adjusting…discovering new things that are not actually new.”

Evalin patted his knee “are any memories coming back?”

“I had a couple. All related to moments with Aelin.” He paused, sighed and gathered the courage to ask about Aelin. He hadn’t her from Aelin in a week “How is she doing? I haven’t heard from her in a week.”

Evalin hesitated “she is not well. She had been off from work the whole week.”

Rowan worried. Without realising it he felt a pang of fear rise in him “is it the pregnancy?”

Evalin nodded “partly. She has been very stressed this last month which has been hard on her and the baby.”

He threw his head backwards and leaned into the pillow “and it doesn’t help that I pile on with my stupidity.”

“She told me what happened.” The woman said quietly and he had a feeling that all of a sudden she had lost all of her respect for him “It must be scary to be in your position right now.” she admitted “I can see that you were just trying to protect my daughter, because the heart is a treacherous thing and I don’t think Aelin would survive loosing you completely and again.” The woman’s eyes were on him now “As a mother who loves her daughter and her grandchildren deeply and accepted you like a son… all I am asking is to give it a try.” She took his hand in hers “I know I am asking a lot of you, but you two used to hate each other and look where you got in the end.”

“What if I am not anymore the man she loves? I am scared that something might have broken in me and I don’t want to hurt her or the kids.”

Evalin squeezed his hand “listen to your heart, what does it tell you?”

“Try.” He whispered and he knew it was true “if I tell you something will you promise you will not think of me as crazy?”

Evalin shook her head.

“When I saw her the first time, I could not recognise her, but my body somehow did. I felt a tug… as if something pulled me to her. I don’t know how to explain it. There was a sense of familiarity.” He explained, thinking he sounded like a complete lunatic, but Evalin smiled deeply at him.

“I think it was your soul recognising its other half.” And she chuckled “my husband used to tell me I was an hopeless romantic.”

“I dreamed our wedding day, the day both kids were born and some other moments with her have come back.”

“And how do they make you feel?”

“There is always love. I am sure Aelin and I had our bad days but the memories coming back so far are all happy.” He told the woman.

“Then treasure those feelings.”

They stood in silence for a moment then Rowan spoke again “can I ask you something?”

Evalin nodded.

“Aelin mentioned that before having Thomas and Freyja we had problems and lost as well. How bad was it?”

He wasn’t sure if he should talk about it but he wanted, needed to know. He needed to know more about his relationship with Aelin and Evalin seemed very keen to indulge him.

“You started trying after you got married. You were both obsessed about having a big family so you started straight away. But it took Aelin a year to get pregnant.” She told him and he could see the heartbreak in the woman “you lost the first baby in the first trimester. But the second one happened during her fifth month. She woke up one night bleeding heavily and you lost your baby girl. It destroyed you both.”

Evalin paused, giving him time to absorb the facts “Aelin was heartbroken and you were just the same. And your marriage suffered quite badly, but slowly you both found your way back together. Thomas arrived a year later.”

Rowan listened and he felt a stab of pain in his heart. How did they survive such pain?

“You both went through something more horrific, and I am positive you will survive this too. You have to.” The woman stood and placed her bag back on her shoulder “next time you see Aelin, talk to her. Tell her about your fears. Let her in Rowan, she is your wife.”

She was about to leave when she stopped and pulled something from her bag. It was a piece of paper “Thomas did this for you.”

Rowan took the paper and saw it was a messy drawing of his family. The four of them were all there “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Evalin smiled and left the room, leaving Rowan on his own.

He thought about his options and realised that he had none. They were his family and in that moment they were all he knew. He had no idea if he had any friends close enough who would take him in. And who would do that anyway? He was a burden. But Aelin had offered him a home. A family. And eventually love. Maybe Evalin was right, maybe with time and patience he could learn to love her again. He just hoped he was not too late.

*

Aelin woke up from her afternoon nap and found her mother playing with Thomas. Freyja was napping as well on the sofa, her soft toy close to her chest, her blanket wrapped around her and a pacifier in her mouth. She looked serene.

Thomas was building something with lego. His father was obsessed with the colourful bricks and he had bought huge quantities and they would sit and build for hours.

“What are you building, Tom?”

“Our house.”

She ruffled his blonde hair and went to sit opposite her mother.

“How are you doing?”

Aelin sighed “the nausea stopped, but I still feel exhausted.”

“You should go back to bed.”

Aelin shook her head “If I keep sleeping I will not be able to do so tonight.”

Evalin took a sip of her tea “I went to see Rowan this morning.”

Aelin froze. She had retyped and deleted the reply to him countless times now. She had wanted to tell him she was scared too. Tell him that she knew it was hard for him and that she was ready to stay at his side and help him. They would find their way back. They always did even during the darkest moments of their marriage when she pushed him away because she thought the pain was only hers, Rowan had fought to be back at her side. Together they rose from the abysm and their bond grew even stronger.

“How is he doing?”

“Your husband needs you at his side. He is lost, and confused.”

“He told me to move on. He told he might not want to be my husband anymore.” She snapped, her heart aching.

“Have you considered that he might have said that to protect you? He is afraid you will not love the man that will come out of this ordeal. He thinks that by leaving him he will protect this family.”

Aelin sobbed, her face in her hands “I miss him so much.” Her sobs grew in intensity.

Thomas noticed his mother cry and walked to her and gave Aelin a hug “don’t cry, mum.”

“I am fine, Tom. Go back playing with lego.” She kissed his blonde hair and sent him back on the carpet.

“I know you are the doctor,” started Evalin caressing her sleeping granddaughter’s silver hair “but I did some reading and it seems like sensorial stimulation might help trigger the memories.”

Aelin nodded “He has his phone back with all the photos and the texts.” She took a deep breath “he texted me saying that the doctor might discharge him in a few days and I don’t know what to do.”

Evalin gave her a dashing smile “you are taking your husband back to this home where he belongs.”

Aelin felt fear at the idea “have you thought how the kids will feel at seeing their dad that way? I can’t put them through that.”

Her mother placed a hand on her knee in comfort “have you thought about the fact that being surrounded by a familiar environment might be best way to help him?”

She had not. All she had been thinking since that text had been her children. She wanted him back. There was no doubt about it. But she had to protect them. She was an adult and could endure the pain. They could not. They had no idea what was happening.

“You could explain to Thomas what happened and ask him to help you to get his dad back.”

Her boy, her wonderful boy, she could not do that to him. Her hands shook in fear.

“Aelin, he needs his family. All of us.”

She stood abruptly “he should go and stay with friends. Lorcan perhaps.”

Evalin stood as well and joined her “He and Elide have a baby who is only a few months old, they will not take him in. And they cannot help. He needs us. He needs all of this.” Her arms extended to indicate the house around them.

“He might not want this.” Aelin snarled “he made it quite clear.”

Evalin loved her daughter but she had inherited her father’s stubbornness. But if Aelin was stubborn, she was on another level “Aelin, you are going back to work tomorrow. You march in your husband’s room and tell him that he is coming home. Where he belongs. And don’t fight me on this.”

Aelin knew her mother had her best interest at heart. She was the one who had dragged her out of the abysm she had thrown herself into after they lost their daughter. After she had pushed Rowan away, Evalin had been at her side. Helping through the pain of the loss, fighting her depression with her. Slowly she had made her realise that Rowan was hurting too. That the pain was his as well and that he could be the one pulling her out completely. In the end they had helped each other.

To whatever end.

It was their pact, their promise.

An oath that went deeper than a I love you.

It was a thread that bound their souls together.

To whatever end.

[pochiperpe90]

[L’Officiel Hommes] Luca Marinelli, rising star of Italian cinema

To win his first film role, Luca Marinelli agreed to put on sixteen kilos. For the second, he had to shave his whole body and learn to walk in heels more than eight inches high.

"If I believe in the part, there is nothing I'm not willing to do," says the twenty-six-year-old protagonist of ‘The Solitude of Prime Numbers’, the film by Saverio Costanzo presented at last year's edition of the Venice Film Festival.

To play the role of a boy devoured by guilt due to an accident that happened to his sister, Marinelli did not hesitate to ruin his athletic physique by gorging himself on fats and carbohydrates, and giving up any activity for three months. As soon as he could, he started running again to lose the extra pounds. Between football and swimming he has always been used to playing sports. But the forced immobility had atrophied his muscles, and at the end of the first runs he ended up vomiting his soul from the effort. After a month of intense exercise, however, he had already lost the extra pounds.

"Changing your body makes you feel more vulnerable and you become prey to irrational fears: when I was fat I was afraid of dying every time I took the stairs, when I was hairless I was afraid that my eyebrows would never grow back," says the actor while he eats a salad sitting at the bar of the Palazzo della Triennale in Milan. "But it's always a very interesting experience", he continues, absently stroking the hairs on his forearm, still growing since the end of the shooting of “L’ultimo terrestre”, a film that will be released next year by Gipi, an Italian illustrator making his debut behind the movie camera. It’s a love story set against the backdrop of an invasion of extraterrestrials, in which Marinelli plays the role of a transvestite friend of the protagonist. To prepare for the part, the actor watched dozens of crossdresser and transgender footage and had to practice for hours walking with extravagant stilts instead of shoes.

“I was told that, as a woman, I move well and I'm quite beautiful. In short, the experience gave me a certain satisfaction”, he jokes, winking with gray-blue eyes.

Compared to the film debut of ‘Solitude of Prime Numbers’, this new film offers him a smaller role and visibility. But Marinelli is not concerned about this. He knows he was very lucky to end on the red carpet of one of the most important festivals in the world with the first film. And he would almost feel calmer if his career were to continue more gradually.

"It was so lightning fast that I was not prepared. Venice was a wonderful experience but I was in panic. In the evening I came home with a terrible headache, I felt like I had two tight screws in my skull. I almost felt at fault to start out so great. And now I'm happy to start again slowly”.

Marinelli finished high school in 2006 and three years later graduated from the Silvio D'Amico Academy of Dramatic Art in Rome. Before being chosen by Costanzo for the feature film that gave him notoriety with the public, he had already played several roles in the theater with directors such as Carlo Cecchi and Michele Monetta. His father, actor and film voice actor, tried to introduce him to the world of entertainment as a child, without achieving great results. He had made him voice the voices of Tip and Tap, the grandchildren of Mickey Mouse from the cartoons, and had offered him some amateur roles. Despite being fascinated by the profession, however, the son didn’t feel cut out to be an actor.

“As a child I was shy. I liked being the center of attention, but only with people I had a lot of confidence with. More than being observed, I was interested in observing the lives of others. Not the present ones, but the past ones”.

After high school, Marinelli enrolled in the faculty of archeology in Rome. But after two months in which he attended only lessons that had nothing to do with his course, he realized that the university wasn’t for him and threw himself into acting, overcoming the fears he carried within him since he was a child. Even today, however, it retains some of that shyness. To the point that, whenever he is about to go on stage, he has to resort to small exorcising rites to reduce tension and cancel thoughts. And when we ask him how it feels to tell a complete stranger about himself, he confesses to being a little nervous.

"This is my second interview. From the first, I came out as some kind of psycho. I hope this time it goes better”, he jokes.

He has pain in his neck from a fall that occurred a few days earlier and moves his torso in a slightly stiffly way. He jumped on the ball and crashed to the ground during a game of "calciotto", the eight-a-side football that is popular in Rome, the city where he was born and raised. Every time he turns his head he makes a grimace of pain. Apart from that, Marinelli seems to be quite at ease, and does not resort to clichés. Nor does he try to hide behind sophisticated characters: he wears a blue shirt, military green trousers and brown jacket, in a style that he simply defines "for men", made up of garments unearthed among vintage shops and thrift stalls rather than in the boutiques of the big names. He loves to run around with his bike, although he admits that the longest trip he has done was from Rome to Fregene with a friend. And as soon as he has a free moment he takes his dog Nonò, a foundling dachshund who also follows him on tour, and takes him around the capital for long walks in the company of Sandy, the dog who lives in his parents' house.

Even though he’s aware of the difficulties and uncertainties he risks facing in his profession, he speaks of his dreams with passion and without anguish. He would like to pursue a project as a director and is enthusiastic about the collaboration with Cecchi in “Sogno di una notte di mezza estate”, a piece with which he will tour Italy between November and February.

"I know that being an actor is a job with a very high risk of failure and depression, but for the moment I try to live this lucky moment to the fullest."

Marinelli is not religious, but he’s particularly fascinated by the figure of Christ. He loves reading books and watching films that tell the Nazarene in his human dimension (from the Gospel according to Matthew by Pasolini to Scorsese's Last Temptation of Christ), because when he sees a miracle he feels the "smell of burning" and is immediately distracted.

"The story of Jesus, understood as a simple person, is a proof of the wonderful things that man is capable of. And studying it helps to understand how far we live from the example that has been given to us".

Among the dreams in the drawer, remains to work with Eimuntas Nekrošius, the Lithuanian theater director who recently staged Albert Camus' Caligula in Rome. And with Pedro Almodovar, the master of Spanish cinema whose language he knows well. In fact, Marinelli's father spent his childhood in Argentina and passed on to his son his love for Spanish, which Luca speaks with a slight South American inflection.

Of course, the situation in Italy for novice actors is not reassuring. Most of his fellow academics are still looking for work. The lucky ones earn a few euros by acting in the theater or making fiction which is exhausting for the body and demoralizing for the spirit. The others are making a living with alternative uses waiting to be discovered.

“I'm working, but not because I'm the best of those who came out of my class. Luck matters a lot. In Italy the environment is closed and there is little money. Abroad, however, it seems that this art is much more accessible".

His response is interrupted by a strange sigh that sounds like a whale song. It’s the ringtone of his cell phone, a reconstruction of the original music used in the Greek tragedy. Marinelli doesn’t respond, but begins to show signs of unease. He noted that the Palazzo della Triennale hosts an exhibition of Pasolini's portraits that he would like to see. He has little time left, but he adores the poet and insists on entering.

Inside the exhibition, observe the black and white photos taken by Dino Pedriali in 1975 which show the artist reading in his villa in Chia, writing on an Olivetti 22 and walking on a bridge in Sabaudia with his hair down from the wind. Then he stops in front of a photo of Pasolini naked, portrayed in his bedroom.

"What a fascinating man, in this image he reminds me of the bad lieutenant in Abel Ferrara's film," he says as he heads towards the exit. Then, unexpectedly, he turns to his interviewer and asks him with the relieved tone of someone who knows he has completed a business: "Prof, how did the exam go?".

“I'd give you a nice twenty-eight”, we reply according to the game.

"Okay, I accept it".

L’Officiel Hommes

Just wanted to translate this old interview for the non-italian’s fans ^^ (sorry for my English)  

[hford0311]

Growing Up

"We're home, sweetheart." Your dad said as the last box was placed in the living room. There was a knock on the door. Y/d/n  opened the door to see a woman with her husband and her possible child there. "Hi! Um...We're your neighbors across the hall." The woman started and introduced themselves: Ben, May, and their nephew Peter. At some point, you caught Peter's eye. "Hi," he exclaimed. The sudden loud child voice shocked you. You walked over to the door and shyly looked at the boy. "I'm Peter," the little boy spoke. "Go on, say hi," your dad encouraged and you quietly introduced yourself to the boy. "She's shy," Y/d/n explained. "We can hardly get this one to shut up," Ben laughed and picked up Peter. "There is a nice playground around the block...and if you need a babysitter or anything, you can come to us." He added. Your dad thanked them before they walked back to their apartment with Peter looking over Ben's shoulder. "Bye," He called with his eyes in your direction.

Years went on with Peter and you growing closer.  It helped that, that the two of you were placed in the same classroom for many of your elementary school classes. Now, it was middle school and the two of you were seeing if you were in any classes together. "There, we have computer lab and English together!" Peter exclaimed, excited that you two weren't completely separated. You sighed in relief about it. "Good, I didn't want to be alone going into the new school," you stated.

The conversations about middle school filled Peter's bedroom. All of the nervousness and excitement about the new grade level being shared. Laughs and worries exchanged until your father came back and you had to return back across the hall. The lengthy hug given to each other as May and Y/d/n exchanged glances about the length. However, with Ben's recent passing, they never made a big deal of the casual affection.

It was early in the morning, maybe around 2 or 3, when Peter talked to you over the walkie-talkie that Aunt May gave to him and you the last Christmas. "Y/n, I just thought of something very important." A few seconds passed after you ignored it, wanting your sleep. "Y/n, answer, I need your help. Now!" You groaned and rolled your eyes as you answered his call. "What is it, Peter?" You sassed. "Is your dad asleep?" He questioned. "Probably, unlike me," you responded, still upset by being woken up. "Can you let me in, please?" Peter requested. You sat up in bed. "Better be a good explanation," you stated and walked towards the front door of your apartment quietly, avoiding large sounds to keep your father asleep. You slowly opened the front door, Peter already waiting there. "This better be good, Parker," you whispered as you let him in and followed him to your room.

"Here me out," he started, the pair of you sitting across from each other on your bed. "Why do you think I let you over, Peter?" You responded. "So you know how most people get into relationships in junior high?" He inquired, and you nodded for an answer. "Well," he paused, "I have never kissed someone before." You raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Where is this going, Peter?" You investigated him. "Can I have a practice kiss with you," he words so fast and rushed together that you hardly understood him. You looked at him with confusion. "Y-you can say n-no," he stuttered. "What's the difference between a practice kiss and a regular kiss?" You said in a whisper. "Well," Peter hesitated, "a practice kiss doesn't really count as a first kiss." He explained, and you nodded along with him. "I guess that makes sense," you replied.

"Can we then- practice kiss," his voice got quieter during the second part of his request. You hesitated. "You said it wouldn't count right," he viciously nodded at your question. You pursed your lips together, then agreed to it. You leaned forward with your lips pressed together. "You got to close your eyes, Y/n." Peter told you. You huffed and closed your eyes. You heard him take a deep breath, then there was a quick meeting of your lips. You could have missed it if you didn't know it was coming. However, it did make your heart flutter and heat rise to your cheeks, as did Peter's. "Thanks," he whispered, "I guess I'll go back now." It was never spoke of again.

***

High school came with its own challenges. The pair of you slightly drifted from each other. Still, there were times when you'd come over after school and hangout. On fewer occasions, you'd stay the night and both of you would sleep in the same bed. You did it as kids, so the pair of you were used to it. The days of practice kissing were long over as well. It just wasn't the same as it had been when you guys were younger. After your sophomore year, you didn't share schedules with each other to see when you would be in classes together. You would simply find out that day.

Homecomings were incredibly painful for you. No, you didn't expect to be Peter's date to them, but you at least thought you would be in the same group together. You weren't. Even though seeing Peter happy with his date and the group of people he went with made you happy, it was also depressing at the same time. Sometimes just being around him was just different and underwhelming.

*Warning: Underage Drinking*

It took one party that you deiced to go to tonight that would change so much. You took deep breathes as you opened the door to whoever's house that the party was at. Drinks were flowing down your throat. "Hey, Y/n," you smiled back at Peter as he was getting a drink. Something about seeing him this time was just different. It sent you back to that night before the sixth grade when you practiced kissed and felt the fluttering of your heart.

The two of you actually talked for the first time in what felt like years for you. "I miss you, Peter," you admitted. Well, more like the alcohol was speaking for you. His face was surprised for a second before he gently smiled, "I miss you too, Y/n." He simply stated. Then, an idea popped in his head. "Hey, you want to get out of here?" You nodded with a grand smile in agreement.

The pair of you walked the streets, Peter being much more sober than you helped you stay on the sidewalks and off the streets. Eventually, the two of you ended up at the park the pair of you spent most of your time together in the elementary school. "Remember when we used to go on the swings all the time," you slurred as you clumsily sat on the swing. He chuckled and nodded, sitting to the one next to you. Suddenly, it felt like the world stopped. Not for any reason, it just stopped. "Peter," you turned your body towards him, twisting the metal chains on the swing, "why did you stop hanging out with me?" You were blunt with the question. Sober you would have never dared to ask, but drunk you desperately wanted to as much as sober you and was bold enough to ask.

He paused from the conversation. He couldn't answer. "I didn't want to stop," he quietly answered. You nodded but continued to push, "Why did you then?" He looked sadly back at you, deciding to crouch in front of you then. "I...was afraid that I would get too attached." He softly replied. You made a questioning face. "I-I know people that would want to hurt the people I know, people that I love, Y/n." Peter explained. "What do you mean? Why would people want to hurt you know?" He had no choice but to admit it now. "I'm Spider-Man." You quickly went from questioning to angered and quickly got up from the swing and walked in the direction of your apartment. "Fuck you, Peter Parker! If you hate me, just fucking say it!" You yelled and continued to storm away. You noticed yourself sobering up as your anger increased.

You weren't sure how you got home, but you did by yourself and managed to fall asleep, only to be woken soon after. "Peter to Y/n," that damn walkie-talkie you never turned off before. He repeated the phrase several times before you groaned and answered. "Leave me alone, Parker," you sassed and dropped the talkie on the floor. "Please, let me explain." He begged. He repeated your names and begged countless times more. Eventually, you gave him and let him in your apartment. You both sat like many times before with you both across from each other. At first, during his explanations, you denied him and kept telling yourself that he was lying. Then, he unzipped his backpack that he brought with him. The suit inside it. "You can't tell anyone." He stated.

You were surprised, but your exhaustion masked him. However, you remembered the other secret the two of you kept in your bedroom before. "Just like practice kissing, I will never tell anyone." He looked up at you shocked at the comparison. "Well, it's a bit more serious than that, but-" "Peter," he stopped talking and looked at you, "so when you saying earlier that you didn't want to get attached, you were saying that because..." you dragged some while speaking at the end. "Because," he cleared his throat, "I didn't- I don't - want them to hurt you, Y/n." You nodded. He shifted closer from you on the bed. "I don't want to lose you." Peter whispered and without knowing, he placed his forehead on yours. "You'll never lose me, Peter." You said back in the same hushed tone. "Don't say that," his voice getting desperate. Something took over.

You put both hands on either side of his face, closed your eyes, and pressed your lips to his. This kiss was much sweeter, meaningful, and longer than all of the practices kisses. You'd feel Peter's hands on your waist and get closer to you. Suddenly though, he pulled away. You looked back at him so desperate and confused. "We can't, I don't want to put you at risk." You started to get up from the bed and grab the backpack when you grabbed him and pulled you close. "I'm already at risk, you idiot, and I want to risk it all." You strongly stated. "Let's do it then." Peter replied.

[unholyobsessions]

the good side

Pairing: former Luke x fem!Reader, Julie x Luke

Description: In the end, you ended up hurt and Luke ended up happy

A/N: this is kinda all over the place but i actually really like it

Warnings: heartbreak, alluded depression

Word Count: 2.0k

Prompt for jatp song fic february: week 1 Romance. A failed relationship based on The Good Side by Troye Sivan. @jatpsongficfeb @dream-a-little-bigger-x @bright-molina​ 

Masterlist

Happiness

That’s the one word you would have used three months ago to describe your relationship with Luke. When seeing his smile made yours grow wider, and looking into his eyes made you fall more in love.

Complicated

The word you would have used two months ago, when the fights were a little more common than you liked to admit and both of you were hurt by words you couldn’t take back. 

Crumbling

Is what it was a month ago, when you would roll over in the morning to find Luke already gone and the silence in the apartment rang louder than the screaming matches that followed. 

Over 

Is the word you use now, as Luke packs what is left of his clothes and slams the door behind him, leaving you to fall to your knees and cry at the loss of his arms around you. The weight of the promise rings in your hand is too much and you throw them at the door. 

Heartbreak isn’t an emotion you’re unfamiliar with, you’ve had your fair share of failed relationships. But you never expected to feel this with Luke. 

Luke who told you he was going to marry you one day. Who would hold you close and whisper lyrics of love songs he had written for you, proclamations of adoration that he promised to sing to the world one day.  

You stay in the empty hallway, loud sobs racking your body until the sun starts to rise over the horizon, showering the room with a golden glow from the window. 

Your throat is burning and you can barely feel your legs, but you force yourself to get up. You head to the shower, letting the burning water pelt against your skin until it turns cold. 

Your friend comes over later that day but you can’t bring yourself to explain. She holds you close against her chest, promising that everything will get better, but you’re not sure if you believe her. There’s too many memories, too much love still in your heart that you don’t want to let go off. Letting go means accepting it’s over and deep down, you don’t want it to be. 

You stay in bed for a week, not having the strength nor the motivation to get up. Other friends come over, forcing you to eat and you do so robotically. Life doesn’t feel real. You feel as if this is all some terrible dream and when you wake up, you’ll be in Luke’s arms again. 

. . .

Luke is on Cloud 9. His fingers sting from the long hours of playing his guitar and his throat feels sore from months of singing lyrics into a microphone, only to hear people sing them back to him. 

The last not of the last song echoes in his ear and he turns around, grinning at Alex who is holding the cymbal with the tips of his fingers. Julie holds the note longer than any of them, her voice blending with the screams of the fans. Reggie is bouncing, still full of adrenaline and Luke admires him, because he is exhausted and can barely stand on his feet. 

“Thank you L.A. for making our last show one of the best, we’re Julie and the Phantoms-“ 

“Tell your friends,” the three guys join Julie for the last statement. With a final bow, they all exit the stage and in a flurry of excitement, Luke jumps on Alex’s back. This has declared the end of their first world tour and although Luke loved it, he is sure he could sleep for the next twenty years. 

He met them, the band, shortly after breaking up with you, at an open mic night. Right as his set ended, he was ambushed by his now bandmates, Alex, Reggie, and Julie, all of whom started rambling and shooting him rapid-fire questions until his head spun. He clearly remembers putting his hands up and yelling “Shut up!” Causing all three mouths to snap closed. He proceeded, “What exactly are you asking me?”

It was Julie who spoke, “We want you to join our band.” 

Everything seemed fast paced from then, it started with him meeting with them, trying out writing songs together and things just clicked. Every thought was finished by Julie, every melody completed by Reggie, every idea supported by Alex. 

And, caught in the moment, he didn’t find the time to be heartbroken, to miss you. He got over you before he even realized it and suddenly, he was falling in love again. 

Luke naturally gravitates toward Julie, orbiting around her like the earth does the sun. He can’t help it, and he’s not sure he understands it. He just finds himself longing for those small, unintentional touches, the intense eye contact during a song, the proximity of sharing a mic with her. 

Then it happens. Julie is playing a melody on the piano, and Luke is sitting next to her, eyes closed and envisioning the lyrics forming before him. Julie shifts and now her thigh is pressed against Luke’s. His eyes snap open and he turns to her, finding her already looking at him. His eyes shift down and he registers a small nod of her head, and before he can think himself out of it, he surges forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that takes both their breath away. 

They smile lovingly at each other when they pull away and then they continue writing the song. 

. . . 

You haven’t heard from Luke. Not since the door closed. You haven’t heard his voice for over a year but you recognize it as soon as you hear it on the radio. 

Step into my world

Bittersweet love story 'bout a girl

You hadn’t been paying attention to the station, or what the radio host was saying. But you know, you are so sure that it is Luke singing the song. Your heart clenches as you listen to the lyrics, ones you had never heard in your life, which means that he had written this after the breakup. Your chest aches with hope, could this be about you? Is there still some part of him that wants you back? Still loves you as much as you love him? 

It takes only a few seconds for your hope to be crushed, because a new voice starts singing, a woman’s voice. 

Here in front of me

Shining so much brighter

Than I have ever seen

And it’s stupid, because you can’t see them, the song isn’t even live. It’s a recorded studio version, most likely recorded separately, but somehow you can still feel it. 

Love. Pure unadulterated love, that this girl feels for Luke, your Luke. And that Luke feels for her. 

It crushes you. Tears starts streaming down you face and a heart-wrenching sob cuts through your throat. You pull over, ignoring the honking of the car behind you as you merge into the next lane. Straight from a movie, it starts to rain, and you change the station, not bearing to listen to the love of your life fall in love with someone else. 

The tears don’t stop coming and you turn the volume up, not wanting to hear the sound of your own anguish. You stay there for an hour, until you’ve run out of tears, and your throat feels raw. 

You somehow make your way home and as soon as your head hit the pillow, you cry yourself to sleep.

. . .

Luke saw you once, two years after you parted ways. You didn’t see him, too busy staring down at the street as your friends dragged you to a store. It was clear to anyone, but especially to him, that you were miserable. And Luke didn’t want to believe that it was because of him, despite what people say his ego isn’t that big. So he followed you, calling out to Julie, Alex, and Reggie where he was going. 

He stayed hidden, not wanting you to notice him. He was about to give up after fifteen minutes of finding out nothing, when one of his songs started booming from the store speakers. 

Luke sees you freeze and then sees your friends immediately lead you out of the store. He hides behind a rack of clothes when you walk past him and he spots a trail of tears falling down your cheeks. 

He doesn’t want to believe it, he thought you would be okay. He never expected you to not get over him. He wanted you to move on, find happiness. Just like he did. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, and is shocked when he feels a hand on his arm. Whirling around, he comes face to face with Julie, who has a worried look on her face. 

“Luke? You okay?” Alex and Reggie are a few steps behind her, both equally confused. 

“Yeah Jules,” he presses a kiss to her temple for good measure and she smiles up at him. “I’m just thinking about a new song.” 

. . .

It takes Luke a few minutes to register that the fans are still screaming. 

“One more! One more! One more!” Echoes through out the arena. They all look at each other, wondering if they should go out there again, and play one more song. Eventually, the love for their fans beats their tiredness and they bound back up the steps and to the stage, their instruments still there. 

“Alright L.A. we’ll give you guys one more song.” Alex says into his mic, twirling a drumstick around his fingers. Luke pulls the strap of his guitar over his body along with Reggie and Julie goes to sit on her keyboard. 

Luke leans forward on his mic, and he realizes that they didn’t discuss what song they were going to play. He turn his head and it seems that his bandmates are all thinking the same thing because they start sending each other looks. Luke is about to give his own input, but for some reason, decides to turn his head. 

What he sees knocks the breath out of him. You’re standing there, in a worn out pair of black jeans and a random t-shirt. He feels himself lean forward again, starting to speak without even consulting his band. “This next song is one that we’ve been working on,” he pauses to look at Julie. They all know what song he’s talking about, because it’s the only song he’s been able to finish in the last few months, as if the universe won’t let him write another song until he achieves closure. His girlfriend nods at him and starts playing the melody. With a small, shy smile, he looks directly at you, willing you to understand. “Hope you like it.” 

I got the good side of things

Your friend dragged you to the concert. Not telling you whose it was until you were already inside the arena. You wanted to run away and there were tears already welling up in your eyes. She pulled you to your seats and promptly scolded you, telling you that this was your chance. Your chance at closure, to finally write the ending to the Luke chapter of your life. “You won’t get over him unless you confront him,” she said. And knowing that you would never talk to him, going to his concert seemed like the best way. 

You hate to admit that she’s right. At first, you had to bite down tears and force yourself to stay, but then you find yourself getting lost in the music. You enjoy yourself and as the concert came to a close, you felt that maybe, it is possible to move on. 

But then they came back out. And every word, every lyric, every note change struck deeper and deeper within you, and as you meet Luke’s eyes, which are looking only at you, you know who the song is meant for. 

And baby, I apologize

But you can’t do it. You can’t forgive him, not yet. Maybe not ever. You can try to forget about him but the scars he left behind will always be there, as a reminder of what you lost. And as the last note comes to a close, Luke’s voice drowned out by screams, you shake your head. 

Luke’s shoulders fall but he nods, he understands. You walk away and he lets you, because what he wrote, what he just sang, still holds true. 

[wayward-mikaelson]

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Supernatural Tags: @lyarr24

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam @thougts-and-funnies

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You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

[kyle-valenti]

burnout only feels like burning

2.7k / Summary: kyle valenti doesn't have the same quarantine as his friends; an exploration of kyle's trauma during covid as a doctor. (tw depression & other triggers you’d imagine with this subject)

read & comment/ ao3

A little like the virus itself, Kyle’s relationship with his mask begins with worry, annoyance, and then pain. He’s more than happy to have the proper N-95 mask as they begin to get their first case at Roswell General but then a couple more patients trickle in and within a few days his skin is irritated and itching. Maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s the texts from his friends that he’s increasingly missing, but when the Regiment starts spouting off about how COVID is a joke he thinks it might be affecting his nerves too. By week three his former red mark left by the mask has become a permanent feature to his face and by week five it’s not a mark but a bruise instead. Blisters and cracks in his skin litter his hands from over-washing. His feet become so overused the pads of his feet feel numb and bruised and he wears through an entire pair of shoes.

Positivity has fled from his life by week seven and now he’s inside of a survival mode he’s never experienced. He thought after last year he’d be used to anything the world (or universe, rather, given all these aliens) could throw at him. Now what feels foolish, he had believed that there was nothing that could be worse than the previous pain of losing a patient or finding out his father had experimented on people’s lives. 

When he’s out of ventilators and CPAP machines because Albuquerque needs them more and he has to choose whether or not to save the life of an eighty five year old or a thirty two year old he remembers from high school, he breaks.

 Guilt is one thing, grief is another, but the pure rage he feels knowing that Max Evans is out on the town patrolling as some fucking cop and not someone who could heal most of this hospital makes him want to commit actual murder. Maybe trading the blood of an alien on his hands would feel less heart-wrenching. But no. Max had brought back Rosa and had paid the price. Quelling his anger, he went back to work.

 He slept at the hospital most nights in the height of it. Sure the couch was rough, but it was better than the other on-call doctor beds down the hall. Three twelve hour ER shifts of a usual work week doubled to five days of thirteen hour shifts. Soon there’s a week where he pulls double shifts for an entire week when one of his nurses is urgently hospitalized herself. Hospital directors had left them with no PPE except contaminated masks to reuse. Maria, Isobel, and Rosa are in the forefront of a drive to make and donate masks to his hospital after some social media posts that he doesn’t even see until the cloth masks arrive and his medical assistants give him their handwritten note. It makes him smile, but smiling feels so foreign that he almost wants to break from that.

 Visitors are no longer allowed which means Kyle isn’t allowed to use his bedside manner to comfort the family of patients. He has to facetime mothers, spouses, and children and hold the phone over a patient who can’t breathe without machine assistance and pretend that everything is fine and that there’s still hope despite the hypoxia and lack of rising vitals. Ignore that if the patient goes into cardiac arrest more than once, the kindest thing to do given prognosis is to let the patient pass. Resuscitation and DNR (a patient’s begging request to not be resuscitated) becomes a word he uses in his daily work and not simply for intense surgeries.

 Exhaustion isn’t a deep enough adjective to describe the fugue state he goes into. File to file, room to room, ventilator to next… he isn’t surprised when his body starts to wear down. When he no longer feels hunger and instead feels all too hot and dizzy. Telling himself it’s just because of how much he’s exerting his body while covered in layers and layers of protective clothing doesn’t help the fact that he’s starting to have more trouble breathing as he walks the hallways at a fast pace. When he begins to cough, he does what he promised himself he wouldn’t do and drives out post-shift to the desert cabin of Max Evans.

 Part of him is too desperately tired to knock, but when he arrives on the property with the cop car idle and the house dark and at peace for the night, his fury greets him with the embrace of a long-lost friend. Knuckles pound at the wood and Max answers the door with surprise and a general look of defense, and Kyle tries not to immediately punch him in the face at the fact he looks like he had woken up from a comfortable sleep.

 “Heal me.” Kyle manages to spit out.

 “I—what’s wrong?”

 “Beginning stages of respiratory distress, fever, nausea—what do you fucking think?”

 “Kyle—,” Max starts to say, the hesitation deepening, and that does it.

 “No. I have not asked you for anything in all of this, Evans. Anything!” He shouts, voice hoarse. “Not when people got sick, not when they started dying, not even when we started having to let people die on purpose. And you know what? I wasn’t going to even come and ask you now, but I can’t get sick when I’m the one here fucking saving lives out of the two of us and you’re just cruising the streets handing out goddamn traffic tickets.”

 Max’s face isn’t stony like it usually is when Kyle’s yelling at him; this time it’s crushed and guilty but not nearly enough. “What kind of hours you work this week, Evans? A nice 8 to 4? Did you get facetime with Isobel or your mom, maybe binge through a few books and movies after you’re home? Did you sit down and eat a nice dinner and or go over to drink a few beers with Guerin since you can’t get sick? Even get a nice eight hours of sleep in your own bed in your nice quiet home?”

 No response.

 “I am not asking to sequence your DNA like Liz. All I am asking is for you to let me heal people since you don’t want to.”

 A night breeze is all that makes noise for a moment as Kyle catches his breath and glares at Max, who stands quietly but is staring down at his boots before he finally looks up and nods. Max steps forward then, and Kyle sees that his eyes are actually filled with tears. Temper deflating, but still not subsiding entirely, given that not much else is able to be done; Kyle lets Max place a hand on his shoulder and feels the extremely weird feeling spread throughout his body. Something more electric than anything else, which God knew made a lot more sense concerning his powers and how the body operated with electrical nerve impulses, but that is a train of thought better left for another day. He wants to just walk away, and he almost does, but he still mutters a “thank you” before he does so.

When his nurse dies a few days later and he watches as the staff double bag her body to take to the morgue, he escapes to his office and crashes on his couch with sobs. There’s no one here to support him. He can’t go to his mother’s home and collapse into one of her comforting embraces without risking infecting her. He can’t get wasted at the Wild Pony with Maria when it’s closed. He can’t visit Rosa or Arturo at the Crashdown. Keeping his friends and family safe meant keeping them away from him. Keeping them safe meant he needed to stop pushing his head into his hands to try and control the sound of his crying and get back to work at saving the lives around them.

He gets put on leave by the hospital administrator when he’s almost arrested for decking Wyatt Long in the hospital parking lot as the idiot stood outside with a sign rallying Regiment members to make sure the hospital was told it was killing people on purpose for the election. If Jenna hadn’t been the officer on duty he would have been cuffed and put on record, jeopardizing his license, but there was some self-preserving part of him that desperately wished for his practice to be over anyway. He’s not even sure how Jenna handles it, honestly, all he remembers is her dropping him off at his house from her patrol car like she had been nothing but an uber. No matter how angry and adamant he gets, his boss refuses to bend, saying it’s for his own good given the connections the Long’s have in the town and how Kyle has worked almost 74 of the past 76 days.

Alex is the first to visit him, unannounced. When the doorbell rings Kyle is mindlessly pretending to watch some tv show in his living room that’ll distract him from his consuming thoughts about patients, so he doesn’t get up to answer. He checks his silent phone to see if he was forewarned of a visitor but sees nothing. Unsure if it’s his boss or a patient’s family, he forces himself up onto his sore feet and opens the door after grabbing a regular mask off the coffee table. Black face mask on and standing further out from the door on the porch is Alex, the usual gruff hello turned into something soft. “Hey.”

Kyle heaves a sigh. He had wondered when the pity visits would begin. “Hey. You really shouldn’t be around me, you know.”

“I’m clearly a minimum of eight feet away in an open space while masked.” Alex smarts back. “Either way, I’m worried about you.”

Scoffing, he shakes his head. “Don’t fucking worry about me. Worry about getting sick, because if I have to see another person I care about die, I--,”

“Kyle.” the other says too kindly, the sort of pacifying voice Alex reserved for only the most dire situations. “I have no idea what you’re dealing with in specifics, but my experiences do overlap with yours in some places.”

“And?”

Maybe it came out a little too rude, because Alex raises a brow, but then sighs instead. “And I’m just checking in to make sure you know people care about you.”

“Thanks, Manes.” Kyle huffs in return, managing not to roll his eyes because focusing on being blunt and abrasive was so much easier.

“Just be careful.” Alex interjects before Kyle could close the door and turn back to his show. “Dealing with the trauma of what you’re dealing with gets dark very quickly.”

“Because I punched Wyatt Long?” he spits back sarcastically.

“No, because the suicide rates for healthcare professionals are drastically increasing along with the rates of PTSD diagnoses.” Alex says flatly, ever one to be unfazed by sarcasm. “And I’ve lost more active duty members to suicide than I have combat.”

Kyle pauses, caught. Maybe Alex had known he would be, because there isn’t some way he can give a smile and reassuring wave with him like he could his mother or Liz. While Kyle hadn’t actively thought of a plan, he couldn’t pretend he had noticed signs of depression the second he was alone in his house. 

“The quiet is the worst part, right?” Alex says, all but reading his mind. “Not always because of the flashbacks, although those are horrible, but because if things are quiet then--,”

“--people are dying.” Kyle finishes, his voice raspier by the end of the three words. “Yeah, well, mine still are.”

“They’re going to.” Is what felt like a cold response, but somehow gave Kyle the understanding he’s been craving. “They’re going to die and because of your profession you’re going to be able to save some of them. Which will make you think you’re responsible to save all of them and because you’re a good person you’re going to feel guilty in ways that no one will understand for being human and failing to.”

“Failing is all I do lately.” Kyle replies. “Usually the wins feel higher than the losses as a doctor, but with this-- and no one outside of it cares. They go outside and yell about how this is about a fucking election and when it’s not the patients, it’s the hospital pretending they don’t have enough money to buy us proper protection. Or the government saying this will all go away and that it’s just a light cold.”

Alex gives a small nod. “I know. I also know telling you the same advice that you’d give another doctor of trying not to burn out and instead taking a small rest is useless. So I’m just going to drop off these dvd’s and make you report back to me the difference when you’re done.”

Star Trek and Star Wars. Kyle finds a smile tug on his lips. Alex leaves with one on his as well.

When he gives a response to Alex a few days later on how Star Wars is better not more than a few minutes later Deluca is texting him with recommendations on joining her Buffy the Vampire Slayer rewatch. There’s something sweet about the fact that people have been clearly talking about him, even if definitely borderline creepy with how nosy his circle of friends can be, but he sighs and lets Maria add him to the group chat she has with Rosa and Liz where they review each episode after the fact and even chimes in every now and then. Isobel gets added not long after due to an Instagram story Maria shares and then the group has moved onto Friends after everyone shoots down Liz for suggesting Grey’s Anatomy on behalf of Kyle. Alex is also in there, even if it’s rare he chimes in with an opinion, but once they start Friends his commentary about how much he hates Ross that gets the entire group riled up does tend to make him laugh. Even Kyle agrees with Forest-- whose opinion had been shared by Alex-- that Chandler had all too many queer-coded scenes with Joey.

His mother facetimes him daily, which given how they both don’t exactly go out much starts to become monotonous, until she begins to give in and talk about memories she has of their father. Tidbits she never would have shared with him about their adult life when he was a child or teenager. He in turn facetimes Rosa and shares some of the memories of their father as well, which as much as she tries to pretend she doesn’t want for Arturo’s sake she clearly does with the million questions she asks every single time and the small smile she gives him at the end of their calls.

Liz updates him on her work which is a nice reprieve from everyone’s normalcy and lack of medical jargon sometimes, especially when she gives him inside info on covid vaccine studies not yet published to the general public yet. Everything in him wants this more than anything else in the world right now and he texts her almost every day asking if she’s heard more news even when he knows things take time. She’s a good sport about everything, even when he shares in a very angry rant about Max Evans and how they could have helped so many more people so much more quickly with his DNA-- however selfish that might have been.

When he goes back to work, he feels refreshed, even when it makes things hit like a freight train once more. Lost in a sea of inadequacy, his feelings extend past the pandemic. Even when things return to a level of normalcy and the cases subside he gets alien medical drama thrown in his face once more, and he starts to wonder if he’ll ever recover. If he was wrong to choose this calling. If the fact he can’t help Max or Maria is a sign from above or his father that it’s time to make some career move or change location like his mother and Liz. But, like he tells Michael Guerin. He can’t think he can face his future children and say he walked away from this. Or let people die by quitting, just like Rosa warns. And so he stays and tries to heal both other people and himself.

[queen-ofsunflowers]

DadWorth AU: Part 3 (Justice For All)

Justice for All has to be one of the angstier parts of this AU, right up there with some ideas I have for Apollo Justice. Especially considering the whole Miles “chooses death” thing. So, let’s dive into it!

< Part 2 | Part 4 >

Reunion, and Turnabout

Things fast forward a couple of months after the end of Rise from the Ashes. Gumshoe’s been taking care of Kay since Miles kind of fucked off. He’s been doing his best, and so are Sebastian and Klavier -- who have been trying to cheer up their third musketeer ever since they found out what happened. But Kay is miserable.

So, now summer break is here for her, Gumshoe decides to take her out to the mountains for the day to get out in nature and hopefully get her mind off of things. Even if it is for a little while.

However, that plan is totally ruined when he gets a call about a murder nearby. He’s the only detective in the area, so they have to go down to Kurain Village to check it out. And that’s where they run into Phoenix for the first time since the end of Rise. Both he and Kay are not doing well in the aftermath of that case, and neither are really sure what to do around each other. Needless to say, the whole interaction is awkward.

Gumshoe does not pick up on this. He asks Phoenix if he could keep an eye on Kay while he takes care of the investigation. After some hesitation and deliberation, Phoenix agrees. So Kay becomes his partner button and Phoenix finally get to interact one-on-one with each other during the investigation for Reunion.

This is the first time they get to do this, since they were either with Maya or Ema on previous cases. It’s still a bit awkward, but when Phoenix finds out that she’s studying to be a defense attorney, things get a little bit easier as they find common ground.

Phoenix unknowingly starting to settle into a mentor role? Yes.

Kay is super turned off by Morgan Fey (getting chills up her spine and a faint memory of Dahlia Hawthorne -- she saw the Fawles trial. Phoenix also gets the same vibes from her.) And is surprisingly good with Pearl.

Her reaction to learning that Franziska is the prosecutor for this case catches Phoenix’s attention. Kay hasn’t heard from Franziska outside of a few text messages to check in on her over the past few months, so the fact that she’s in the country and Kay’s only finding out about it now makes her wonder what’s going on.

Kay goes to meet with Maya at the detention center with Phoenix, and kind of gets overly excited when she sees that Maya is channeling Mia because if you remember, she looked up Mia. Mia was an idol for her. So getting to meet her -- even if it is through spirit channeling -- is the highlight of her week.

And then we get to the trial. Phoenix asks Kay if she wants to stand co-counsel and Kay immediately jumps at the chance to say yes. So this is technically her first trial (she’s excited for it, but a little bit sad that Miles isn’t there to see her). Franziska, on the other hand, is surprised that Kay is standing at the defense’s bench with Phoenix Wright, leading to a lot of things including seeing Kay as a traitor (reason why will be explained later.)

So, Kay stands in for Pearl as co-counsel. As a result, her spirit channeling abilities are not revealed until much later. In the second trial day, she’s not present due to Gumshoe’s intervention and keeping her busy (something which Pearl agrees to so long as Kay and Phoenix get Maya a Not Guilty).

The investigation moments are full of small bonding moments between Phoenix and Kay as they get to know each other a bit better.

So, Team Wright-Faraday get a Not Guilty verdict as promised. Kay’s super proud of herself for managing to do this and it puts her on cloud nine. Franziska only believes that Phoenix won because he had a semi-competent co-counsel with him (Aunt Fran starting to show that she’s proud of Kay a little bit, but is still incredibly pissed that she lost.) Overall, she isn’t sure how to feel about Kay in that moment, and it all comes down to one simple reason:

This is the first time Kay has smiled in months. Everyone who knows her is relieved to see it back.

After the case is closed, Maya does thank Kay for helping and Kay in return does try to cheer her up after the whole “morgan stabbed maya in the back” thing starts to settle in. Am I saying Maya and Kay friendship? Maya and Kay friendship. It starts here.

So, things are starting to look a little bit better for Kay.

The Lost Turnabout

It’s not... Kay’s not involved in this one. Teenage shenanigans happen here as the new school year at Themis starts up.

The first day of school is always pretty easy, but it gets pretty depressing for Kay when one of her professors decides a good idea to break the ice by talking about some of the more ridiculous things that have happened in court cases. It gets the class laughing, and isn’t a bad idea...

Unfortunately for Kay, though, the professor also brings up a certain defense attorney cross-examining a parrot. The memory of that trial brings up a whole lot of feelings for Kay and she just kind of falls quiet for the rest of the day.

But luckily, Klavier and Sebastian have known Kay for a year now, and they realize something’s wrong. So they (primarily Klavier, since he instigates the whole thing) decide to do something about it and distract her. Here is where teenage shenanigans come about.

Just wholesome fun with what is slowly becoming a favorite chaotic trio that ends with everyone collapsed on a couch with an old movie playing in the background. ...and possibly a few appearances from other characters. Who knows?

Kay only finds out about Phoenix’s trial after the fact from Maya, and she’s not sure whether to be impressed that Phoenix managed to do all that with amnesia or laugh about it. She decides to do both.

Turnabout Big Top

It all starts with Phoenix going from ace attorney to ace babysitter as he’s in charge of four teenagers and one small child. Over the past few months, he’s gotten acquainted with Klavier and Sebastian as well, especially after the trio used the Wright & Co. Law Offices as their own personal hangout spot to get homework done and hide out when needed (thank you Kay).

The only reason Kay is brought on as co-counsel for this case is because a: its winter break so she doesn’t have school to worry about and b: the time frame is the same as when Miles was arrested the year prior. If Phoenix is having a rough time, then so is Kay. Especially since this will also be her first birthday since the whole incident. She’s also at Wright & Co. for the same reason when Maya calls up with the case.

This case is not the best distraction for Kay, but at least its something. Lesson learned: as a lawyer, you gotta take the good with the frustrating. Things get worse with Franziska prosecuting again. Kay still doesn’t get what’s up with her and why she’s still getting called a traitor.

The boys are also in on this case because why not, though they don’t stand as co-counsel but rather just help with the investigation. Because we all know that Kristoph and Blaise wouldn’t agree to them standing on the defense’s side, one more than the other.

Kay openly admitting to getting a headache while trying to figure out what the heck is actually going on during the first trial day. She grew up with the Master of Logic himself, so trying to make sense of this without all the information is making her head run in circles. But she’s not going to give up.

It’s revealed when Franziska confronts Phoenix & Co. outside of the lodging house later that day that the reason Franziska calls Kay a traitor is that she deliberately is siding with the man responsible for Miles’s “death”, something that she never thought Kay would do.

Kay never blames Phoenix for what happened to Miles. She mostly blames Gant (and von Karma somewhat) for it. They were the ones who pushed him, not Phoenix. So, when Franziska openly blames Phoenix for what happened, Kay gets pretty pissed. 

When Phoenix and Maya continue their investigation, Kay goes to confront Franziska on that matter and just goes off. Months of bottled up emotions just kind of explode outward, and Franziska is the unfortunate target of it all. This blow-up is also the first time that Kay refers to Miles as her dad. Which hits pretty hard. Franziska starts regretting a few choices she’s made today. Klavier and Sebastian pull her away as she starts to break down.

So they just... let her cry it out in the circus’s cafeteria. They end up being the ones who find out about the incident with the lion (once Kay’s calmed down) rather that Phoenix and Maya. The story has them racing over to them, catching the duo just as they’re about to enter Acro’s room and things go about pretty much the same way they do canonically from there.

The next day is a bit hard, and its easy to pick up on the tension between Kay and Franziska here. Taking a page out of the anime, Kay, Klavier, a reluctant Sebastian and Maya recreating the crime for the entire court. She does feel bad about having to indict Acro, though, due to the circumstances surrounding everything.

Kay does a pretty good job, something which Gumshoe relays as a message to her, at the end of the trial, much to her surprise. Who else would be proud of her is something that she wants to know.

Meanwhile, Miles Edgeworth wonders how he’s going to tell his daughter that he’s still alive upon his return to the country. (and yes, he was the one who told gumshoe to tell kay that he was proud of her)

Farewell, My Turnabout

So, Kay at this point still doesn’t know that Miles is alive. He wants to get everything settled before he makes any grand reveals to anyone. He’s also still trying to figure out how to do it since that wasn’t supposed to happen. Kay wasn’t supposed to think he was dead. He told her that he was leaving, sure, but Kay was also half-asleep when he did. So, misunderstandings~

Meanwhile, Phoenix takes the girls (Maya, Pearl and Kay) to the Hero of Heroes Grand Prix. Kay’s gotten decently close to the members of Wright & Co. over the past few months, that much is clear by now.

Kay gets upset about Corrida’s murder because ya know. Jammin’ Ninja fan. She hopes that Engrade gets locked away for doing it. Maya thinks she just doesn’t like the Nickel Samurai, which isn’t that far off. Kay just doesn’t like Engarde thanks to reading Klavier’s tabloid magazines. She never gets to explain the contents of those magazines, though. Phoenix finds out about them later.

Things take a sharp turn when Maya is called to the front desk to answer her “call”. Kay goes with Maya because ya know. Buddy system. (”girls don’t let each other go anywhere alone, nick!” “*sigh* i will never understand teenagers...”)  i think. you know. where this about to go--

So, yeah. Kay gets kidnapped alongside Maya. She puts up a pretty decent fight against de Killer (look at the people she was around growing up, Kay probably does know a little self-defense), but in the end, she still gets ‘napped. And so, Phoenix has to defend Engarde or the two girls will “disappear”.

Things are made worse, as Phoenix is accosted by two teenage boys who can’t get in touch with their third musketeer who didn’t show up for school that day. He’s just trying to do his job, but Klavier and Sebastian are really stubborn and will not leave him alone.

And everything gets worse when Miles makes his grand revival. And then is made the prosecutor for this case. So, Phoenix is not having a very good week at all.

Phoenix and Gumshoe are doing the best to keep the fact that the girls are being held hostage from Edgeworth and the boys. Emphasis on try. All three know that there’s something going on, but they can’t figure out what.

Meanwhile, Kay and Maya are in a wine cellar. Kay has tried several times to break down the door, but it hasn’t worked. de Killer took their phones, so they have no way of contacting the outside. They’re screwed unless they can escape.

Maya realizes that they do have a way to contact the outside and uses her spirit channeling powers to contact Mia, and with Kay’s help manages to explain what’s going on and giving a message to Mia to give to Phoenix.

So, Pearl finally reveals her spirit channeling powers. It freaks Phoenix out at first, but he gets over it quickly because at this point, he’s kind of used to Fey Family Weirdness.

The first part of the trial goes on as pretty much the same as it did before. Afterwards, Phoenix does his best to keep the fact that the girls are kidnapped from Miles because he’s gonna flip the fuck out. And he fails. And Miles kind of does flip out.

So, de Killer and Engarde (more so de Killer because he did his research, he knows the connection with Kay that Edgeworth has) have two pawns to work with and dangle over both the prosecution and defense. And now Edgeworth has two assistants on his side: Sebastian and Klavier, who don’t want to see Kay hurt. However, as future prosecutors, they can’t do much to help Phoenix. So, they help out with the investigation (and using the excuse as this being extra credit for anyone who asks why there are two teenagers here.)

On the other side, Maya and Kay break out of the room they were locked in thanks to a card Maya finds. Things go about as well as they do canonically, but with more struggle. Kay makes a fucking mess trying to defend herself and Maya from de Killer, which will later show the police that something definitely went down here (and concerning the heck out of a good handful of people in the process).

Kay may not know the truth about the Yatagarasu yet, but she sure is acting like the Yatagarasu.

The investigation goes about as well as you expect it to. Klavier and Sebastian are doing their best, but they can’t do much since they’re still only students. And Miles is worried as hell for Kay and ends up wanting to tear Engarde apart. Klavier is right to not like Engarde, as was Kay earlier.

When the trial starts up again, you have both the prosecution, the defense and a few members of the gallery nervous as hell. Gumshoe is doing his best to find the girls, but Miles and Phoenix still need to stall for time.

They do their best, but things are going about as well as they do canonically with Edgeworth being more on edge due to Kay being in danger. And the last time he saw her was when he left. So, he wants to be able to reconcile with her.

Things go on much like they do in canon. The note, Gumshoe’s accident, etc. Mia’s with Kay, doing her best to help, but she’s not sure what more she can do because the girls are weak and tired from being held captive for so long.

More worry on both parts.

When de Killer threatens to kill Maya and Kay when Edgeworth and Phoenix press him and try to get more time, Miles is also there to beg him to leave them alone. This is also the first time that Miles openly refers to Kay as his daughter.

Not much is different there out. They manage to expose Engarde as the asshole that he is, the girls are released and Engarde is declared guilty.

The scene with Franziska at the airport and Phoenix giving Miles the whip takes place a bit earlier, as that’s where Miles goes first before going to meet with Kay. Because he’s still trying to figure out how he’s going to talk to Kay again.

Phoenix and the others meet Maya and Kay at the hospital (Kay and Maya were held captive without much food or water for about three days, and Kay has a few minor injuries from de Killer, so they do need medical attention). Maya has a tearful reunion with Mia (as channeled by Pearl), and Kay gets tackled by her friends on both sides.

And then Miles Edgeworth walks into the room a short while later and Kay does not know what to say. She thought that he was dead for over a year, and a lot of things start bubbling to the surface. She starts tearing up because she thought she would never see Miles again, and he with her.

As soon as he gets close enough, Kay hugs him and calls him stupid in a couple different ways. Miles accepts it and apologizes for making her worry. He promises not to vanish like that again, and returns the promise that Kay made in part 2: to not keep secrets from her again.

So, what they didn’t get at the end of part 2, Miles and Kay finally get at the end of JfA: a chance to actually rebuild and reconcile their relationship without anything getting in the way.

So Justice for All ends on a pretty good note.

That may be the end of Justice for All, but it’s not the end of the story. There are still more ripples to come and fun shenanigans.