#came third out of eleven so it’s not too bad

[archie-gray]

didn’t win my office’s fpl and feeling very depressed about it

[bloatedandalone04]

To The One I Love - Part 9

Series Masterlist

➪in which you’re hit with countless memories all at once, and then are sent into a full blown panic attack when you can’t reach tyler, who, unbeknownst to you, is just as shaken up as you are.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5k | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

A loud cry left your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut, the pounding in your head never faltering, even as the last thing you remembered before you lost your memory flashed behind your closed eyelids. 

“Tyler,” you whimpered, weakly opening your eyes again as you recalled every ‘I love you’, every single time Tyler called you beautiful, every moment lost between the sheets of the very same king-sized bed he was holding you in just this morning, all of it. 

It was like the missing pieces were finally snapping into place, and it hurt a bit as your head felt like it was ten sizes too big. 

Every date, every kiss, every chase. It all came rushing back to you as if you had never forgotten about any of it in the first place.  

You remembered looking at this very house with him, then throwing yourself in his arms when he bought it for you. The many times you and he went camping just for the hell of it. The countless times you’d found yourself literally in the middle of a tornado with him by your side. 

Every single moment that made your relationship so strong and so…long-lasting. 

You remembered the bad times, the arguments, the times you told him to sleep on the couch, but then went out and brought him to bed with you after half an hour of laying by yourself. 

Even though you hadn’t said it to him since getting hurt, you loved Tyler with every fiber of your being. You didn’t need to remember the last eleven years in vivid detail to know that he was your forever person, but you were so happy you did, because every moment with him was amazing and damn near precious to you. 

When the pounding in your head finally calmed down a bit, you slowly blinked and let your hands fall down to your lap. The blanket you had on your thighs was on the floor now, and the pillow you were leaning against was on the cushion next to yours. You had no idea how long you had been holding your head in pain, but when you looked up and saw the words ‘Live Stream Has Ended’ sprawled across the TV screen, you panicked. 

Were you really out of it for that long? For an entire, usually forty minute, stream? You didn’t even know what time the stream started, so you couldn’t use that knowledge to figure it out as you looked around for your phone you had dropped when you remembered exactly what caused your memory loss almost three weeks ago. 

What if something had happened to him while you were hit with your memories like a freight train? What if he didn’t end the stream, but it got disconnected because he got caught up in something? 

Irrational thoughts swarmed around your already full head, and it just made it pound more as you quickly got up from the couch, your whole body tensed up from nerves and anxiety. 

Your hands were shaking when you finally found your phone, half under the couch and hidden by the blanket. You clicked on Tyler’s contact and waited for him to pick up, and you knew he never let it get to the third ring whenever you called, so when it went to the fifth and then to his voicemail, you were panicking even more. 

He said that he’d have his phone on him the whole time and that you could call him if you needed anything, but he wasn’t picking up. Why wasn’t he picking up? 

When you called him two more times, your nerves were shot and you were sweating a bit as your heart pounded. Not knowing what else to do, you called Lilly and had tears in your eyes that quickly spilled once she picked up with a hesitant, “Hello?”

“Lilly,” you gasped, holding your phone to your ear with sweaty palms as you looked at the TV screen that still showed the same message as before. “I’m…where’s…where is he? Where’s Tyler? What happened to him?” 

You fired questions at her before she could even think of the answer to any of them, your vision blurred as you heard her mumble something to someone on the other end of the line. 

“Lilly, please!” You begged, crying softly as you paced around your living room that was filled with yours and Tyler’s things. “I need him. I need to see him! I need to talk to him, Lilly, please. Please, tell me he’s there with you.”

Lilly quietly hushed you, and the background noise faded a bit before she spoke up again, “He’s not here, Y/n/n,” she said and it made your heart beat even faster. “He’s on his way to you right now, okay? He’s on his way home. Talk to me, tell me what’s goin’ on.”

You couldn’t process her words as you moved to sit on the floor, your watery eyes glued to the flat screen. “I need him,” you whimpered, “I need him, Lilly. Tell me he’s okay. Please, I need him to be okay and I need him here. I need him here with me.”

“Shh, hey, he’s on his way, yeah? He’s comin’,” she said, but it was like you couldn’t bring yourself to really listen to her words, let alone believe them. “Tell me what’s goin’ on, Y/n. You remember somethin’?”

You sniffled and leaned back against the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest. “I remember all of it,” you whispered, “Every bit of it. And then it was over, and it ended, and he’s still not here and he didn’t answer his phone. Lilly, please. Is he okay?” 

The connection was spotty, and you weren’t sure if it was because the weather was still bad or not, but when you could no longer hear Lilly’s attempts at calming you down or hear why Tyler didn’t answer his phone, you dropped yours and began pacing around the living room with tears still rolling down your face. 

But then you heard the sound of the truck you loved so much outside the house, and you practically yanked the front door open and ran out into the rain. 

-

The weather was absolutely terrible, but the tornado itself wasn’t that bad. 

It pretty much dissolved completely less than fifteen minutes after it had formed, but Tyler was kind of glad since he hadn’t chased in a few weeks up until that point, so it was a nice way to ease back into it. 

With that being said, he hadn’t planned on dropping his phone in between the seats of his truck when he made it back to the lot, and his hand was far too big to reach it by the time he heard the sound of your ringtone.

He told you to call him if you needed him, and you had called him three times before never calling him again, but he didn’t have the time to worry before Lilly came over to where he was halfway under the steering wheel, trying to shove his hand under the seat of his truck. 

When she told him that you were on the phone pretty much freaking out and rambling on and on, he forgot about his task of retrieving his own phone and immediately started the truck to drive back home to you. 

Tyler was a bit terrified that something bad had happened to you in the forty minutes he was gone, and he would never forgive himself if your injury worsened and he wasn’t there for you. 

While he tried to not think the worse, he couldn’t help it. You were fine when he left you, but now you were apparently losing your mind on the phone with Lilly. What did he miss? He had no idea, but his heart was in his throat as he carelessly drove through the heavy rain all the way back home. 

When he finally pulled into the dirt driveway, the truck was barely in park before he was pushing the door open at the same time the front door to the house swung open. Tyler instantly became soaked from the rain, as did you as you ran over to him and threw yourself into his arms. 

You were shaking, but it wasn’t because you were cold from the rain. No, you were crying, hard, and he wrapped you up tightly and held you firmly against his chest as he tried to think of what could’ve possibly made you this worked up. “Y/n,” he murmured, trying to pull back just enough to look at you properly, but you just cried harder and hugged him tighter. “Baby, hey, what happened? What’s wrong?” 

“Tyler,” you whimpered, clinging onto the front of his drenched shirt as you pressed your face against the side of his neck. “You’re okay…you’re-you’re okay. You’re here. You’re here.”

“I’m here,” he echoed, tangling his fingers in your wet hair. “I’m sorry, I dropped my-”

“Why didn’t you answer?” You cut him off as you tighten your grip on his shirt. “I called you…I called you, why didn’t you pick up?”

You were hyperventilating now, and he was panicking a bit as he held you against his body. He didn’t know why you didn’t think he was fine or safe, but he didn’t prioritize that right now. Your body was already cold, and your tears were mixing with the harsh rain drops, and he needed to get you out of this weather. “Okay, baby,” he mumbled, “Let’s get you inside, yeah? Come on, let’s-”

“I remember everything,” you cut him off, and those three words had his own body freezing up. 

“What?” Tyler’s hands gripped your shoulders tighter as he processed your words, and his eyes were wide and vulnerable as he pried your body away from his to be able to look at your full face. Your pretty irises were rimmed with red and he could see the tears on your water lines, and his heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest. “You…you remember everythin’? Are you serious?”

You nodded instantly, reaching up to grip his wrists as you sobbed. “I remember it all. I remember the accident, the storm…our first night here,” you gave him a teary laugh that had his own eyes burning as he felt his mouth curve into a big, relieved smile. “All of it.”

Tyler hadn’t felt this overjoyed in so long, and he almost forgot what it felt like to be completely and utterly happy. Even as he stood with you under the pouring rain that would most likely give him a cold soon. But he didn’t get the chance to tell you just how fucking happy you had just made him before you were telling him the words he’d been dying to hear from you for weeks now. 

“I love you,” you whimpered, your hands tightening on his wrists as you looked up at him with unguarded eyes. “I love you so much, Ty. I always have and I promise you I always will. I love you.”

And that was when he felt like he could finally breathe again. Like the hole in his heart was entirely filled in and fixed. 

And then he was gripping your face and leaning down to press his lips to yours in a deep kiss. And then you were kissing him back. 

 Even though kissing had just been re-introduced into your relationship as of this morning, kissing you like this is what Tyler had been craving for weeks. 

His thumbs pressed into your soft cheeks as the rest of his fingers caressed your jaw, kissing you as if you held the last breath of air left in the world between your lips, and he wasn’t sure if he could stop. 

He missed you. Every fucking part of you. And although your memories were back, he knew that even though it felt like it, he had never actually lost you. You were always right there by his side, so trusting and willing so damn perfect in every way. You were never gone. 

Tyler had no idea how long you and he made out in the rain for, but eventually he got you back inside and into the living room. Wanting to spare the couch from getting soaked, you and Tyler stumbled your way around it and ended up sprawled out on the floor, your bodies only cushioned by a blanket that was already there. 

But he was comfortable and completely content, because he had you. 

“You really remember everythin’?” He asked in between kisses as he gently pressed you against the floor with his weight. “All of it?” 

You nodded, running your fingers through his wet hair in the exact same way you always did before. “All of it,” you mumbled, still holding onto him like you were terrified he’d disappear if you were to let go. 

Tyler closed his eyes and buried his face against your cold neck, his lips peppering soft kisses along your skin. “What happened the first time we ever went campin’?” he asked, still not entirely convinced that this wasn’t a dream, that you truly did remember every moment he held close to his heart. 

“We brought every single thing we needed except for bug spray, and ended up ditching the tent to sleep on the backseat of the truck because we were both getting eaten alive by mosquitoes,” you answered and Tyler felt a warmth spread all over his body. 

His clothes were soaked and stuck to his skin, and he was cold, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking another question, “What about your twenty-fifth birthday?” 

You smiled up at him and bumped your nose gently against his. “You surprised me with a trip to Paris since I’d been talking about going there since I was sixteen,” you replied, “But when we got there, we couldn’t understand anything since we both cheated off of Kevin Adams on every test in our French class, so we didn’t actually learn the language.” 

That one made Tyler laugh, because you even remembered the poor kid’s name who was oblivious to the way Tyler would purposely sit behind him in class so he could look over his shoulder for the answers he’d share with you after. 

“Our fourth anniversary?” He asked in a whisper as he pulled away to look you in the eyes. You looked so pretty, your hair damp and tangled, your eyes glassy and your lips puffy. God, he adored you more than anything else in the entire world. 

Your expression softened as your thumbs tugged at his bottom lip. “We got wasted at a dive bar after using our ID’s for the first time, then ended up celebrating it properly the day after by going out to dinner and then a showing of The Sixth Sense at the drive in,” 

Tyler groaned quietly, leaning in to press his lips to yours as he mumbled, “You’re so perfect, baby,” then he began to press kisses all along your neck. “Every single part of you.” 

Your soft moan was music to his ears and it heated up his cold body with just that. Your fingers tangled in his hair again as he pressed countless kisses to your neck and shoulders, and he was totally fine with staying like that for the rest of the day, but you had a different idea. “Ty,” you murmured, “Take me to bed.”

He grinned against your skin, not lifting his head as he asked, “Feelin’ tired, baby?”

Tyler would gladly have a late afternoon nap with you in bed, but that wasn’t what you had in mind, clearly, as your next words had him freezing up in a completely different way. “No, not like that…I want to feel you, baby,” you whispered, and he hadn’t heard you call him that in what felt like forever, but he couldn’t even focus on that part when you just offered yourself to him so sweetly. “All of you.” 

He pulled back to look into your pretty eyes, and one of his hands came up to gently caress your cheek. “Baby…are you sure you’re ready for that?” He asked quietly, his eyes flickering to where your stitches used to be before meeting yours again. “Your heads a mess right now, and you just got your stitches taken out.” 

You gave him a sheepish smile and a shrug, “Guess you’ll just have to be extra gentle with me?”

And he knew he would do anything you wanted him to do if you asked him exactly like that. 

So he nodded and stood up, offering you his hand. He laced his fingers with yours and led you down the hall to your bedroom, his hold on you so soft, he couldn’t remember a time he was this gentle with you after your relationship hit the one year mark. Things were so new back then, you and he were still exploring each other. But now he knows you like the back of his hand. He knew your body better than his own. 

Standing at the foot of the bed, Tyler paused, unsure of where to go from here. He wasn’t nervous or uncertain, he wanted this just as much as you did, but he was scared that he’d push you too far, that he’d mess up somehow. 

And you seemed to realize that as you reached out and unbuttoned his shirt before peeling the damp fabric away from his chilled body that somehow also felt like it was on fire. You moved onto your shirt, and he watched with hooded eyes as you pulled it off and dropped it onto the floor next to his, leaving your top half bare. 

Even though he’s seen you naked thousands of times, you looked more beautiful every single time he got to see you like this. You were just so effortlessly stunning, inside and out, and he still couldn’t believe that he was the person that gets to see every inch of you like this for the rest of your lives. 

When you stepped towards him again, Tyler leaned back down and kissed you, his hands coming up to cradle your face as he eased you down onto the bed. His body covered yours entirely, his hips settling in between your thighs as he deepened the kiss. And even though you were never gone, he couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “I missed you so much,” 

Because, really, he missed you all the time. When he got up earlier than you did and left you in bed to rest more, when he had to run out into town to do errands, when he had to wait outside the dressing room while you tried on things, even though you always showed him your possible new outfit less than a minute after leaving his side. 

“I’m here,” you whispered, stroking his face with your fingers, your thumbs brushing along his stubble. “I’m right here, Ty.”

His fingers wrapped around one of your wrists and brought your hand up to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles, then to your palm. “You’re everythin’,” he murmured, “My whole world, baby. I love you so much.”

He barely got to see the big grin that took over your lips before he was leaning down and pressing a kiss to your mouth. “Please,” you whimpered when he pulled back and began placing kisses along your jawline and down your throat. He missed kissing you like this, touching you like this, physically showing you just how much he loved you. “I need you, Ty.”

Tyler reached down to pull at the string of your sweats before pushing them down your legs, his fingers hooking into the thin fabric of your panties as well to leave you completely bare to his eyes. “My sweet girl,” he mumbled, connecting your lips again as his hand slid down your body until his fingers brushed against your wetness, and he slowly worked you open. 

It had been weeks since he last did this with you, so you were a bit tighter down there than usual because of the lack of intimacy. But he got you there, ensuring that there would be no pain when he slid himself inside your sweet, wet walls he’s always had a craving for ever since the first time in that motel room. 

Tyler’s lips broke away from yours to pepper kisses along your collar bones. His free hand came up to cover your soft breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it hardened under his touch. “Tell me when you’re ready, baby,” he mumbled against your skin as he felt your arousal coat his fingers. 

Your soft whine met his ears as your head fell back on the bed. “Now…now,” you answered, reaching up to grip his shoulders tightly. “Now, baby. I need you.”

Tyler slowly pulled his fingers from your tight heat before giving himself a few strokes as he positioned himself at your entrance. When just his tip slipped inside, he groaned and held back from fully thrusting. You were tight, like always, but more than usual, like he suspected. “God, babe,” he muttered, pressing his face against the side of your neck as he slowly slid all the way inside you, holding still to let your body readjust to him. 

His hands framed your face, his lips pressing gently against the red line on your head that still looked a bit sore from the removal of your stitches. He briefly wondered if that stupid doctor’s roughness might have played a part in the return of your memories, but when he gave a slow roll of his hips, his mind became focused solely on you. 

Tyler pressed a few more, barely-there kisses to your head before looking back down at you, his brows furrowed as he started to rock into you. “All mine,” he rasped, his thumbs gently stroking your cheekbones. 

You whimpered in response, gripping his wrists as you gazed up at him with the same look of pure adoration you’ve given him for the last eleven years. “Yours,” you confirmed, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

Tyler kissed you deeply, seemingly unable to keep his hands and lips off you for even a second right now. He withdrew himself until only an inch remained before sliding back inside your tightness, low groans leaving the back of his throat with each thrust. 

He wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t trying to get you off as fast as possible right now. He wanted to savor every heavenly drag of his body against yours, the familiar feeling of your snug core gripping his cock, the way each thrust pushed him deeper and deeper. It all felt better than anything else in the world, like it always did. 

“So good, baby,” he praised in a low voice, sliding one hand around you to grip your lower back, tilting your hips to allow him to push himself even deeper. His other hand gripped the headboard above you for leverage as he let the feeling of being back inside you take him over. “I love you so damn much.”

“Oh, God,” you gasped, your eyes closing as you let him completely worship your body in all the ways he did before your accident. “I love you too. So much.” 

It was as if both of you couldn’t stop saying it at this point, and Tyler felt his eyes sting with tears at just how fucking happy he was in this moment. Here, with you, he felt weightless. And only you had ever made him feel like this. 

Still, he didn’t want you to see the tears that threatened to escape his eyes, even though he knew you’d never judge him. He buried his face against your shoulder, his harsh and deep groans muffled against your heated skin. 

It was safe to say that both of you were warmed up now. 

“I’m not gonna last,” he grunted, angling your body so he could grind his hips more firmly against yours. “I need you to cum first, baby. I need to feel you.” 

“Ty,” you whined, your head falling back on the pillow as you cried out so beautifully. He felt it when you came around him, and the feeling was so deliciously familiar, his pace began to falter as you wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. “God, yes, baby.”

That was all it took to send Tyler over the edge as well. His body shuddered as he came, his hips stilling against yours as he groaned against your neck as he filled you up.

Instead of collapsing against you like he normally would, he eased your body back down onto the bed and hovered over you, his fingers gently brushing your sweaty hair out of your face. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly, keeping his arms wrapped tightly around you as he was quite literally unwilling to let you go right now. 

You nodded with a lazy smile, reaching up to rub his lower lip with your thumb. “Ty,” you started, your other hand smoothing out his messy hair as your chest heaved with uneven breaths. “I know why I couldn’t bring myself to say yes whenever you proposed to me.”

Those words had his eyes widening a bit, not expecting that to be the first thing out of your mouth once your breathing was relatively back to normal. “Really?” He rasped, cradling your head in his hands. “Why?”

Your face reddened a bit as you gave him an embarrassed smile. “I was scared,” you whispered. “It’s so, so stupid, but…growing up and hearing about all the marriages that ended in divorce or how they made people hate each other…it freaked me out. It’s so stupid because I know our relationship is different from everyone else’s, but I was terrified of ruining what we have.” 

That was a bit surprising, because he hadn’t thought about that at all. Not once did he think that getting married would change things so drastically to the point where he would begin to loathe you instead of love you unconditionally. But it made sense to be scared of it. He’d also heard his fair share of failed marriage stories, he was just never phased by them because he knew he would be happy for the rest of his life as long as he had you by his side. 

“But I know that we’re stronger than that,” you added before he could say anything, “I mean, we made it through me losing my memory. That makes us pretty damn strong, I think.”

Tyler grinned at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “Yeah, we are pretty damn strong, baby,” he nodded, “It took you gettin’ this pretty head all banged up to realize that?”

You blushed and buried your face against the side of his neck. “No, I always knew it,” you whispered, “And I promise, if you ever want to ask me again, I’ll say yes. Because I’m ready and I’m not scared anymore. I’m never scared with you, Ty. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you.” 

There was the second time you had told him that in a week, and Tyler felt like he was on cloud nine. Everything he could possibly ever want is right here in his arms, and you just told him you’re ready for what he had been dreaming of doing for years now. 

What better time than now to make it official? “Well, if you say so,” he murmured, keeping one hand on the swell of your back as he reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out the black box that’s been in there for a long time now. He held the small box in his palm, looking down at you with a hesitant smile, despite everything you had just said. “Baby…will you marry me?” He whispered, hoping like hell that this would be the last time he asked you this. 

Your eyes glazed over as you took the box from his hand, and you opened it, revealing the radiant shaped diamond ring he’d picked out so long ago now. You pressed your lips together and nodded, pulling the ring free and sliding it onto your finger without saying a word. 

Tyler felt his own eyes tear up again when you grinned up at him and gripped his face in your hands, the cool metal of your new permanent piece of jewelry pressing against his warm skin. “Yes,” you murmured, nodding again after, and Tyler leaned down to press a deep kiss to your lips.

He groaned against your mouth when shifted his hips and finally pulled out of you, his body still pressing yours against the bed. “I love you so much, baby. Forever and ever and ever,” he mumbled, pressing kiss after kiss to your lips before his eyes opened quickly and he pulled away from you as he realized something rather serious. “Oh fuck…baby, we didn’t use a condom and you haven’t been takin’ your pill…fuck, we just did that with no protection.”

But even as he said those life changing words, he didn’t feel scared or nervous, because he knew he wanted to start a family with you one day, that was a given, and he was ready when you were. 

Still, he knew now that you were ready for marriage, but had no clue if you were on board with starting a family, well…now, if you ended up getting pregnant from this. 

But then you smiled up at him and shrugged, “We’ve had scarier things happen to us,” and he knew that without a doubt, he would be spending the rest of his days with you, where he belonged.

-

One more part (an epilogue) after this :')

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for leah but reader is her little sister and she's been like misbehaving at school so her mum asks her to talk to her as of she's being like bullied or something to get reader to admit it.

(Sorry I miss spelled something the first time and didn't realise I took the name out when I was fixing the mistakes)

Big Shoes to fill

Leah Willamson x reader fic

pt.2 here

-> Reader, Leah's younger sister is having trouble in school - mysteries get solved.

-> Talk of bullying, homophobia, (maybe child neglect?)

-> @ anon, I hope you like it - a little bit angstier than most of my stuff

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Amanda and David Williamson had had enough. Since school started again, they have received nothing but bad news from their youngest daughter’s school – your school. At first, it was just forgotten homework, until you missed attendance a couple of times – then they made sure, that you did in fact go to school and classes. But after getting better, it got worse again – you had started to misbehave more and more, talking back to your teachers and being constantly rude to everyone around you.

It was stressful. Of course, you didn’t change your behavior overnight, and you didn’t change because you were bored – but nobody seemed to care. Leah had moved to central London a couple of years ago and your older brother Jacob moved to Australia – leaving you all alone in your parent's home.

They weren’t bad people or bad parents, but they were busy. Work. All day, every day. Both of them had already been older when they had you – Leah already eleven, and Jacob seven when she was ‘blessed’ with a younger sister.

The footballer loved to tell you how your first meeting went, boasting to everybody that you wouldn’t stop crying until she held you for the first time, falling asleep in her skinny, little arms. It was her favorite picture of you as a baby, even to this day.

When your principal called Amanda at work for the third time that week, she was done trying. Instead of picking you up, she told the man on the other side of the phone to let you walk home – no matter how much you whined. To his surprise you did not even complain, taking your bag and walking out the door – dull, tired eyes and an empty smile on your face. You finally did it. Maybe you never had to go back. Maybe they finally gave up on you.

Once you had arrived home you were drenched by the London rain, shivering as you made your way through an empty house, taking a shower before you started cleaning up your muddy footsteps. Everything was normal until no one came home. Usually, your mom would get home at five and your day by eight – but now it was already nine and no one was answering your texts.

The lock of the front door ruckled, and after a few tries, it was finally flung open. Like in a bad horror movie a silhouette was shown by lighting in the background – but after a deafening silence aside from the falling rain, Leah stepped inside. Her hair kept back in a beanie and a bag of take-out food in her hand – “I’m homeee!”

You took the food into the kitchen before handing her towels and dry clothes, leaving her to get changed. “You, my love, are the best sister, ever!” By now you had plated the food and set up on the couch, two glasses, and a bottle of wine. “I’m your only sister, Lee.” Her blue eyes softened at your weak voice. “I knowww, but you’re always so good to me.” She pulled you into a tight hug, almost afraid to let you go.

You handed her one of the plates, two slices of Pizza on it – your joined favorite – as she eyes the glasses. “Aren’t you a little too young to drink, Missy?” A sheepish smile was the only response that she got, and it was enough. Leah could see that something was up.

Usually, you had time to prepare when she visited, knowing of it beforehand – but today was different, she just showed up. You didn’t have time to hide the bags beneath your eyes, or do your hair in a way that didn’t look completely life-less – and she noticed. Of course, Leah noticed. She would always notice.

You ate dinner in silence for a while, just happy to be in each other's presence, having missed that feeling once Leah had moved out and you had gotten older. But when both plates were clean, Leah literally licking the crumbs off them, you couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m guessing you’re the one I have to thank for Mum and Dad being somewhere else?”

Your older sister swallowed hard, knowing that you would ask, but she had still hoped that she could gently lead you into the conversation. “Yeah, they’re at my place.” Leah’s place was a stunning apartment closer to the Arsenal training facility. As gently as she could, she took your hands into hers, immediately noticing how cold they were. 

“They told me that you’ve been havin’ trouble in school. What’s goin on Bug?” You hated that look. Leah’s eyes clouded with worry terrified you. She really did care, and while that was nice to know, it also meant, that you would hurt her, no matter what.

“Mom doesn’t know what to do anymore, and Dad- he, well he doesn’t either.” Of course, you knew that. Your mother's tired eyes nearly mirrored your own. But you couldn’t tell them. They wouldn’t understand.

The silence was deafening, and your older sister tried to be subtle with her concerned staring. Sadly for both of you, Leah’s subtle was like an elephant in a fine China store. She really did try not to coax anything out of you, wanting you to feel safe enough to open up.

“School’s just not my thing.”

Both of you knew that you were lying – you loved learning new things and while school might not have the right topics for you, it was better than dying dumb.

The Arsenal player’s eyebrow was intimidating enough for you to just give up. You were tired of fighting your feelings, hurting yourself and everybody else.

“Why are you so rude to the people in your class?” She really was serious, there was no backing out now. “They are not nice people.” Her gaze hardened, her suspicions forming even further. “Why don't you like them?”

But she was met with silence. While you wanted to let her know, that those kids were mean ones, you didn’t want to tell her why they were so mean to you. It would break your sister's heart.

“Okay, what about your football team? Do you have any friends there?” Every time your eyes wandered up from staring at your joined hands to meet Leah’s, they snapped back down. The look in her eyes was terrifying. She seemed scared.

And it was all your fault.

“Oh, I stopped playing football.” Your parents hadn’t even noticed. You washed your own laundry, so when at some point your sweaty training clothes stopped showing up, no one noticed. The only one who did was your trainer – she was now missing one of the most known last names in English women’s football in her team.

You didn’t need to look at your sister to know that she was shocked, her stunned silence doing all the talking. “W-What to do you mean – You quit? But you love football!” You did. You loved watching Leah and her teammates play football, there was so much passion on the field, silent understanding, and mastered routines when they played. “Just drop it, Leah.”

Realization set in for the England captain – you were growing up. Gone was her little sister, who would do anything to be like her. The little sister who worshipped the ground she walked on.

“Why did you quit then? Mom didn’t tell me about it. Why didn’t you call?” You had downed the contents of your wine glass, stealing Leah’s as well. It scared her, just how tired you looked. “Didn’t want to interrupt your day, you’re a busy woman now. Mom always says that.” You took a deep breath, before making air quotes “Leah has more important stuff to do now, honey. Don’t call her, what if she is in an interview?”

The silence was suffocating. It never used to be like this, at least not that Leah remembered. “You would have never interrupted. I will always make time for you, Bug.” As much as you wanted to believe that, you couldn’t. No one made time for you. Not even your mom and dad, who used to do so many exciting things with all their kids in the house. But it was different now. With Leah and Jacob gone.

“A phone works both ways, Leah.”

The footballer was stunned. You were right. She was complaining to your mum, on and on, about how she didn’t know what was happening in your life – but she herself made no effort to change that.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Her confession and apology meant everything to you – even if you feared, that they were empty.

The wine bottle was now empty, and Leah still sober – but that was her plan, and it was working a charm, as your slightly slurred words started to pour out.

“I am so proud of you. You know?” A deep sniffle filled the brief silence “Winning the home European Championship, leading the team to the win, playing every game.” Your eyes were staring into space, as your sisters’ hands tried to warm yours, scared of how hollow you looked and felt. “But it’s not easy living up to that, you know?”

You once again grabbed the glass, disappointed when it was empty. But you didn’t get up to get more. “All everyone said when we went back to school, was how I would never be as good as you.” Tears threatened to fall from Leah’s eyes as things started to make sense. “That’s not true, y-“ but you didn’t let her finish her desperate try to change your mind. “It is true, Leah. I will never be as good as you – because I don’t really like football that much. Your passion and love for it, made you work harder to get where you are right now. I just played so that Jacob and you had something to talk to me about.”

Your whole life you had been pretending to love the game just as much as your siblings did – and when Leah thought back on it, she started to see it. You never had a team you supported, but it was always the one she had played for, or preferred. Not a single well-known footballer came to your mind when you were asked. The only answer you would give? ‘My sister, Leah. She is my favorite footballer of all time.’

“People had never been the kindest to me. I mean I could handle it when they just made fun of me for defending you. But after the win, all of a sudden everyone loved you, and then I was the one they were hurling insults at.” Tears made their way down the blonde's face, leaving a salty taste on her lips. “What did you need to defend me from?”

She knew it was bad the moment that your hands let go of hers. Seeking space. “Well, people knew. They knew about you and Jordan.” Sobs started to wreck her body as you desperately tried to soothe her by rubbing her back.

People were insulting her for being gay, and you stood up for her, making yourself the target.

“Bug, I- I don’t know what to say…”

The tipsyness started to make way for your guilt. She wasn’t supposed to know. You knew that it would break her heart, knowing what was happening at school.

“I hoped, that if I acted cold enough, people would leave me alone. But they didn’t. I tried to tell Mum that I wanted to change schools, but she was busy.” Now she understood. You tried to get yourself kicked out of school so that your parents had no choice but to notice and send you to a new one, where you could start over.

“I am so sorry. You shouldn’t have to go through that.” Your gaze finally met hers, gone was her baby sister. The teen in front of her was much too mature for her age, needing to wise up after being left all alone in the world.

“I know Lee.”

My god. What had she done? Leah Williamson was sure if there was an award for being the worst sister – she would have surely won it.

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 6

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you’re finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off… Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You’ve accepted the fact that romance isn’t for you, under any circumstances. You won’t risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you’ll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: um... CLIFFHANGER?

✧ WORDCOUNT: 5.4k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR’S NOTE: chapter 6 is here early!!! holy shit. this is the second to last chapter of take a bite, so next week's update will wrap everything up! i don't want to give too much away about what happens in this one, but just for reference... um. P.S. i'm sorry in advance. P.P.S. thank you so much tanni @love4myg for beta reading this chapter for me! you saved my wordy ass from publishing so many run-on sentences.

Chapter 6: Y’all Ain’t Never Been To A Party Before?

“Y/N, YOU WHORE!”

So, many things are happening. Holy shit.

First, to your surprise, midnight kimchijeon with Yoongi last night very quickly devolved into more sex.

You had been a little bit anxious while you watched him cook, and even more anxious while you both ate in relative silence, that the weirdness coming off of Yoongi in waves at the mention of Yijeong had effectively killed the vibe. Thankfully, being bent over his kitchen counter and fucked into oblivion did wonders to kill that worry before it fully took root.

It was… You’ve never been fucked quite like that before. Practically drooling onto the marble beneath you as he pounded into you, his hands gripping at your ass, his gravelly voice in your ear, growling “thank me again. You wanna come? Thank me for fucking you like this, come on, show me how much you fucking like it,” and you did. Fuck, he was mean, but you liked it, you liked it so much.

For somebody who very openly prefers to remain completely stationary (and horizontal, if he can help it), Yoongi sure has a fuckton of stamina. So… score.

Second, due to said stamina and your resulting exhaustion following round two, you ended up staying over at Yoongi’s apartment last night. Which was not the plan originally, but both you and Yoongi were unconvinced that you could safely make the journey down the hall back to your own apartment. When the opportunity to crash on a purple mattress presented itself so enticingly, you were powerless to resist.

You both fell asleep very tired and very unclothed, the latter of which probably would’ve resulted in even more sex come morning—sex you were very much looking forward to—if you hadn’t awoken to approximately seven trillion notifications on your phone from Rina, scaring the absolute piss out of you and forcing you to leave a very confused Yoongi to deal with his morning wood all by his lonesome. 

It’s around eleven in the morning, the latest you’ve slept in months, when you roll into your own apartment, sleep-mussed and fucked out.

Which brings you to the third thing.

Rina is here. Like, here. In your apartment. Not in Paris.

Breaking the sound barrier with her excitement as she looks you up and down, in all of your walk-of-shame glory.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your voice still scratchy with sleep. You toss your keys on the closest flat surface to give Rina a very confused hug. You missed her, of course. Terribly so, and that outweighs anything else. But also, what?

“What weren’t you doing here?” Rina quips, squeezing you tight in return. “And please tell me the answer is Yoongi.”

It dawns on you that you and Rina haven’t really spoken since you actually went through with everything, being in different time zones and all. ‘Yoongi invited me to his studio where he produces music and then made me come with his tongue so hard I almost died’ didn’t seem like an announcement to be made over text.

“I don’t think that makes sense,” you mumble into her shoulder before pulling away, sheepish. “But yes, I was at Yoongi’s.”

“Slut,” Rina squeals, her hands latching onto your shoulders and shaking you. “I need to meet him.”

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes widen instantly, slight panic overtaking you as you glance back at your door. You know Rina, and you know that she is not above striding over to Yoongi’s apartment right now and getting a good eyeful for herself.

“Oh my god, Rina, no.” You grab Rina’s hands firmly, pleading. “He’s barely even awake. I promise I’ll tell you every last detail if you don’t do that, holy shit.”

She laughs, pulling her hands away to cross her arms, raising an expectant eyebrow at you. “I’m waiting.”

You sigh, trudging into your kitchen to start a pot of coffee, since you’re clearly going to need it.

“Tell me why you’re in my apartment first,” you say, fishing two mugs out of a cabinet and setting them on the counter. “Not that I mind, but… Paris?”

After the coffee is brewed and doled out, you both move to your couch for a much-needed debriefing of the past few weeks. 

Over your steaming mugs, Rina explains to you that she has come to the liberating realization that the show will in fact go on without her. 

Her stint in Paris, as fun and fabulous as it was, also made her lonely, and once she was confident the theatre company she was collaborating with would do her work justice without her helicoptering over them, Rina immediately booked the first flight to you.

She plans to stick around for an undetermined period of time, as long as you’ll have her, if you’re okay with that—duh, you tell her with a flick to the forehead—and then go home to her boyfriend for a much-needed hiatus from theatre.

Rina tells you everything about Paris: the sightseeing, the shopping. Her show, the reaction it garnered. In return, you give her all of the gory details about Yoongi. All of them, because she’ll sense it if you leave anything out.

You tell her about the night in his studio, how you deliberated and deliberated until you finally gave in, and how you were rewarded with Yoongi’s head between your thighs, eating you out like a man starved.

You tell her about the horribly inappropriate and ridiculously hot sexting that took place in your open floor plan office, how he described in detail what he was going to do to you when he finally got the chance. You hand your phone over without a fight when she demands to read the messages herself, staring down into your mug as she screeches with delight while reading.

You tell her about last night, how Yoongi made good on all of his promises and then some. How he took his time learning the cues of your body. And about the kimchijeon, because it’s really unfair that Yoongi seems to be good at everything.

Rina whistles lowly, raising an eyebrow at you as she takes a long sip of her coffee.

“Okay, I really need to meet him now,” she says.

“There was a weird moment,” you lament, sinking into the couch. “I might be overthinking—”

“Most likely—”

“But, there was definitely a moment,” you continue, firm. You know what you saw. “I got this killer opportunity at work to write about this producer, and Yoongi knows him, so I asked him to put in a good word for me, and he, like, froze up for a second. I don’t know.”

“Was that before or after he fucked your brains out?”

You snort, mumbling into your coffee as you go for a sip. “Between.”

“Okay, so, he’s probably over it if he went back for seconds,” Rina reasons, shrugging. “Why don’t you just ask him about it?”

You shake your head. “If he’s moved past it, I don’t want to bring it up again and risk popping the sex bubble we’re in,” you say. “You’re right, I’m probably overthinking. Yoongi’s Yoongi. He would’ve said no if he really wasn’t cool with it.”

Rina hums, nodding sagely. “Don’t pop the sex bubble,” she agrees. “It’s your job, anyway. Using your connections. I’m sure he’s dealt with reporters before, being who he is. He probably gets it.”

Your phone buzzes, and you set your mug down to fish it out from between the couch cushions. “Yeah.”

Speak of the devil.

Once you grab hold of your phone, you’re greeted with a text from Yoongi. It seems he’s been busy since your abrupt departure. 

[11:58] Yoongi: Spoke to Yijeong. He’s going to be at a label party tonight and he’s down to meet you if you’ll go. I’ll take you.

And then, another.

[11:58] Yoongi: Kind of a fancy thing, though. Cocktail attire. Lmk. 

Normally you’d dread everything he’s proposing—uncomfortable shoes at a party where you don’t know a soul wouldn’t be your first choice for a Saturday night—but you find yourself biting your lip to mask the stupid grin forming on your face. You’re getting your interview and there’s a high possibility you’ll get to see Yoongi in a suit? Everything’s coming up Y/N. 

You lift your gaze from your phone to Rina, who looks at you expectantly. 

“Bring any dresses back with you from Paris?”

★ ★ ★

When Yoongi swings by to pick you up hours later, you’re more than a little grateful you share a dress size with your best friend. 

Rina did, in fact, bring dresses back with her from Paris, and the second this particular one slipped onto your body she had no choice but to declare that it was yours.

It’s just your style—black, simple, form-fitting enough that you look fucking good in it, but long enough to wear to what is essentially a work event. Lace detailing on the bodice. A teasing slit up the side. And it’s from Paris, and while you don’t particularly love the French for much, they can make a damn garment. Yeah, you want to be buried in this dress.

Yoongi leans against the door jamb, not the slightest bit subtle as his eyes rake over you. You smirk to yourself as you bend down to get your heels on. 

“Pretty dress,” he says, though his tone does little to mask what he’s really thinking. Fuck the party. Under any other circumstances, you’d agree, but duty calls.

“It’s hers,” you say, standing upright and jerking your chin back in Rina’s direction. Rina, who is lingering in your kitchen, very obviously exercising all of her restraint not to crowd Yoongi right now and inspect him like a toy. 

“It’s yours,” she corrects, gritting the words out. Good thing you made her promise to be normal.

You take a moment to look at Yoongi, who, to your delight, is wearing a suit. Black, like your dress. What a pair the two of you make.

“You clean up nice,” you say, drinking in the sight of him just as shamelessly as he did to you. Letting your eyes speak for you.

The suit is simple, also like your dress, but the long lines accentuate his legs, making him look taller. Crisp white shirt. Black tie. Hair styled out of his face. He looks good, and he knows it. You can tell in the way he’s carrying himself.

Yoongi hums, smirking. “So I’ve heard.” He glances behind you, at Rina, and then back at you. “The playwright? Rina?”

You nod, surprised that he was able to recall her name. 

He looks back at Rina, smiling at her. “How was Paris?”

The memory on this man. 

“Great,” Rina says tightly. You’re almost proud of her.

“I’m Yoongi,” he says, eyebrow raising at the weird tension wafting from your kitchen.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” she says emphatically, and you snort.

“Ah.” You note that the tips of Yoongi’s ears are pink. Yours would be too, if you were in a room with two people who discussed the way you fuck in-depth. “Good things, I hope.”

“Ready to go?” you chirp as you grab your bag, taking pity on Rina. Any more and she’ll snap, you’re sure of it.

Yoongi nods and steps back into the hallway, allowing you to slip out the door. 

“Nice to meet you,” he calls to Rina as you shut the door, and then you’re both moving.

★ ★ ★

The ride to the party itself is uneventful. Although you’re giddy at the confirmation that the sex bubble has indeed remained unpopped, the second you’re seated in Yoongi’s car you shift into work mode. 

The tiny notepad you’d stuffed in your bag is now clutched in your hand, and the near silence in the car is only interrupted with the occasional question or clarification on something you’ve jotted down in your research on Yijeong. Yoongi answers to the best of his knowledge, supplementing where he can, but it’s clear you’ve done your due diligence. You’re ready.

Yoongi’s car comes to a crawl, and you peer out the window at the outrageous mansion he’s brought you to. You’d barely been paying attention when he’d stopped at the gate to give his name for entry, but now that you’re here, you’re struck by the luxury that awaits you on the other side of the passenger door.

A huge, freshly manicured lawn. Equally manicured shrubbery. A neon-lit fountain in the middle of the driveway, right in front of the imposing entryway to the biggest house you’ve ever seen in person. Modern, sleek architecture composing the monolith before you.

Yoongi hops out of the car to walk around to the passenger side and open the door for you. He helps you out, steadying you as your heels connect with the gravel beneath you.

The house is clearly bustling with people, music seeping out into the night as partygoers filter in and out, as others gather on the balconies (plural!) for cigarettes.

“Whose party is this?” you ask, amazed as Yoongi hands his keys off to the valet—a valet, at somebody’s home. 

“Bang Si-Hyuk,” Yoongi says as he watches his car depart without him, clearly not sharing your amazement. Right, you remind yourself. He’s used to this kind of thing. You, however, feel horribly out of your element, even in your Parisian dress.

He offers you his arm and you take it, staring down at your feet as you walk through the gravel so as not to twist your ankle. You can do this. Networking opportunities galore.

The doors to Bang Si-Hyuk’s mansion are opened for the both of you by the two men flanking it, revealing the party unfolding inside. You gawk, clutching your bag and the notebook inside of it, as Yoongi takes your free hand. He gives it a small squeeze before guiding you past the foyer, past clusters of celebrities and executives, caterers balancing trays of tiny hors d'oeuvres, all the way to the bar.

When prompted, Yoongi, predictably, orders an old fashioned. You opt for a vodka martini, something to quell the nerves mounting inside of you. You’ve come a long way from plastic cups of cheap beer at a Western bar, it seems.

The bartender procures your drinks, sliding them over to the both of you on cocktail napkins, and Yoongi clinks his glass against yours.

“You look like you’re going to shit yourself,” he says, grinning into his glass and taking a swig.

“I hate you,” you mumble in kind, letting the vodka warm your throat as you take a sip of your own. “Remind me again why you live in our apartment complex?”

“Because I’m not Bang Si-Hyuk,” he says simply, setting his drink down as a woman with long, sleek hair in a slinky dress approaches the both of you, though her eyes are focused on Yoongi.

She’s gorgeous. You recognize her, but your memory fails you as you come up short on her name.

“Min Yoongi, as I live and breathe,” she says with a dazzling grin as Yoongi extends his arm out to clasp her hand. She takes hold of his easily and doesn’t let go as she continues speaking in a familiar tone. Hm. “What a surprise.”

“Noona,” Yoongi says, mouth quirking up at the corners as he turns his head to you, his hand still clasped in hers. “Y/N, this is Shin Suran.”

Suran like the singer, your brain helpfully pieces together. You’ve heard her songs on the radio before, read about her in Look Here long before you started. She had a single years back that charted like crazy, a single that you personally own. She’s done a song with Dean before. And she seems to know Yoongi very well, based on the way she’s still touching him. Something stirs in your gut.

Suran’s attention finally turns towards you, her hand leaving Yoongi’s at last as she reaches out to shake yours. You set your glass down on the bar behind you, wipe the condensation off on your dress as discreetly as you can.

“Y/N,” she says, tilting her head at you as you take her offered hand and shake. “It’s lovely to meet you.”

“You as well. I loved ‘Wine,’” you respond, politely extricating your hand to pick up your glass and take another sip of your drink. It’s true, you did love ‘Wine’ when it came out, and despite your distaste for this interaction in general, Suran is supremely talented, there’s no denying it. Not to mention a potential connection for you, thanks to Yoongi.

Suran laughs, her eyes crinkling in the corners. “I appreciate that,” she says warmly before glancing at Yoongi. “Although, that song wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for Yoongi-yah.”

…Huh?

It clicks then, your brain coming online in an instant. 

Yoongi, your Yoongi—the one who lives down the hall from you, who sends you cat videos while you’re at work, who calls you baby when he fucks you—is Suga. 2017 Hot Trend Award winner Suga. Over one hundred KOMCA credits to his name Suga. That he’s not just your Yoongi, but very likely one of the most famous people in this room. That he might’ve been Suran’s Yoongi, too, at one point.

You’d known that he was famous, sure. You’d been to his studio, seen the awards on the wall, although you’d been to preoccupied with wanting to fuck him to actually read them. His studio setup alone told you that he had money, not to mention the paid driver he sent you, the small flashes of luxury in his otherwise humble apartment. But this…

You realize, to add insult to injury, that the song filtering through the speakers right now is his. 

“Noona,” Yoongi says, his eyes locked on you as he speaks, although you sure as hell aren’t his noona. “We’ll catch up with you later.”

You barely catch their goodbyes, picking up your martini to stare into as Suran departs.

“Y/N,” Yoongi says softly.

“You didn’t tell me you were Suga.” 

The name feels weighty on your tongue. You don’t know why it bothers you so much, that you didn’t know. That he didn’t tell you outright. But it does.

Yoongi shifts from one foot to the other awkwardly, his body stiff next to yours.

“You didn’t ask,” he mumbles. “It’s not like I was hiding it from you.”

“Seems like the kind of thing to lead with,” you mumble back, taking a long swig, letting the alcohol burn on its way down.

“Yeah, I don’t make a habit of doing that,” he says. You lift your head to look at him at the bitter tone in his voice, trying to decipher the look on his face, but you’re at a loss. You’re beginning to realize just how little you know about your neighbor. Your friend. Your… Well, he’s more than that now, isn’t he? 

How many details about Yoongi have you let slip from your memory, while he seems to hold on to every little thing he learns about you?

He polishes off his drink and sets his glass down, pulling his phone from his back pocket to send off a text, not looking up from the screen as he speaks. “Ready to meet Yijeong?”

You sigh, suddenly right back where you were last night when you asked him about Yijeong in the first place, but you nod. “Yeah.”

At the responding buzz, Yoongi pockets his phone and wordlessly leads you through the party. You ignore the way your hand in his feels more like a necessary evil this time around.

★ ★ ★

Jang Yijeong is remarkably handsome, tall and lithe in his suit as he puffs on a cigarette. Meeting him isn’t nearly as nerve wracking as you’d thought, although you’re sure you have Yoongi to thank for that.

As soon as you step foot on the balcony, your brain shifts back into work mode with little effort. You watch as Yoongi and Yijeong greet each other with a hug, which you didn’t expect, and they immediately fall into a rapport that can only come from years of familiarity. Yoongi said he knew Yijeong, but he conveniently left out the fact that they’re, like, besties or something. They’re getting a little annoying, these omissions of Yoongi’s. 

Mercifully, Yoongi seems eager to get out of your way as soon as possible. According to Yijeong, he and Yoongi have been working closely for the past month, so he’s kind of sick of looking at his face anyway.

After a muttered, almost fond ‘go fuck yourself’ from Yoongi, he’s leaving you in Yijeong’s care, both of you sitting on the patio furniture kindly provided by Bang Si-Hyuk on the balcony.

“So,” your interviewee starts, taking a drag from his cigarette. “You must be pretty special, getting Yoongi-yah to make an appearance at one of these things.” He gestures at the fanfare through the balcony doors with his free hand.

“I’m not here to talk about me,” you say shyly, balancing your notepad on your knee as you set your phone to record and slide it onto the table between you, next to an ornate ashtray. “I’m here to talk about you.”

“Very nice,” Yijeong hums, amused. “I’m serious, though. I’ve been going to these since I debuted. Album release parties, award ceremonies, anything I could get an invite to. But I haven’t seen Yoongi at one in years. He hates this shit.”

“When I made the switch to producing, I practically begged him to come out of hiding and be my plus-one. He’s been producing for way longer. He knows the people at these things, knows how to work them if he has to,” he continues. “Yoongi and I have been friends for a long time. He’s practically my brother. But I couldn’t get him to say yes.”

Nothing about that tracks. Yoongi and Yijeong, if your math is mathing correctly, have known each other for the better part of a decade. You’ve only known Yoongi for a month and a half. If he’s as much of a hermit as Yijeong insists, why would he do this for you if Yijeong couldn’t get him to budge?

You think about Suran and how surprised she seemed to see Yoongi. You think about the text you got this afternoon, how he didn’t give any indication that going to this party was outside of his comfort zone. Another omission, except this time you don’t feel annoyance, but something else entirely. Something you don’t dare name. You shift in your seat.

“I’m just saying,” he says warmly, ashing his cigarette in the tray between you, meeting your eyes. “You must be special.”

You don’t know what to say in response, and you know it shows. Yijeong laughs at whatever expression he finds on your face, warmth blooming in your cheeks as your eyes burn holes in the notepad on your knee. 

“Okay, okay,” he says, grinning and raising his hands up in surrender. “Do your worst. It’s been a few years since I’ve done this, so I might be a little rusty. But for you, mystery girl, I’m an open book.”

Yijeong speaks to you like an old friend. He tells you about how he fell in love with singing in the fourth grade, when he sang ‘Azalea’ by Maya in front of the eommas and appas of his peers and got a taste of what it’s like to sing for an audience. He opens up to you about losing control of his own voice during his career as an idol, how he didn’t know what was wrong, was wracked with fear over it. 

He tells you about becoming friends with Yoongi, about being taken under his wing to learn a whole new skill and take a new direction with his career. How Yoongi opened a door for him that he didn’t even know existed. You learn that Yijeong has been collaborating with Yoongi for years now without drawing too much attention to it, but now that he can stand alone, he’s ready to step back into the limelight as EL CAPITXN.

You get so enraptured in the conversation, dutifully scribbling notes and asking follow-up questions, that you barely notice that over half an hour has passed by.

“Y/N,” Yijeong says, smiling at you as he wraps up his answer to your last question. You don’t know how to explain it, but it makes so much sense to you that this man is Yoongi’s friend. Maybe it’s the warmth in his voice. “You should probably go rescue Yoongi-yah from those leeches inside.”

“Yeah,” you agree, biting back a smile at the thought of Yoongi braving rookie idols and sleazy executives, trying to find a wall to hug while he waits. For you. He’s doing this for your career, for you. “It was lovely to meet you, Yijeong.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Yijeong insists, watching you knowingly as you pack up your notepad and pen, moving to stand. “Y/N-ah,” he calls, making you pause at the balcony door. “Treat him well, okay?”

Something that you’ve been ignoring for a long time unfurls in your chest.

“I will,” you promise softly.

You push the balcony door open, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears as you make your way back to the bar. You will rescue Yoongi, want nothing more than to be with him again, but you need the liquid courage now more than ever.

Here’s what you know: You have spent the last three years terrified of falling. Starving yourself from the full breadth of friendship, of intimacy, of love, because of what happened the last time you let yourself have it. You’ve convinced yourself that any man that claims interest in you would do the same in the long run, that being career-driven is a deterrent to love and nobody will ever accept you for who you are.

But you also know this: Yoongi sees you. He understands you. Unlike your ex, he doesn’t feel hurt when you disappear for days on end, lost in your work, because he’s very likely doing the same. And yet he still finds time to read everything that gets published under your name. He offers his studio as a safe haven for you to write when the words stop flowing in your own office. He goes to parties he’d normally rather die than attend just so you can get an interview, because it’s important to you.

You don’t want to starve anymore. Min Yoongi has been staring you in the face for the past month and a half, offering you everything you’ve been scared of since your ex left you three years ago, all alone in a strange city. Offering you all of his support and kindness and closeness like a filling meal. And for the first time in a very long time, you want to try and take a bite.

Terrifyingly, you really, really fucking like him. Not just as a friend.

You finish your martini quickly before weaving through the crowd to find Yoongi. And you do, leaning against the furthest wall. Drink in hand, just like the night you met.

When you approach, he lifts his head and your heart soars when your eyes meet.

“Ready to go?” he asks, none the wiser to your sudden change of heart. 

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Yeah, let’s go.”

★ ★ ★

You barely make it into your shared hallway before you’re on Yoongi, your body pressing against his and your arms looped around his neck as you pull him into a searing kiss. He tastes like whiskey, and normally you’d hate that, but it tastes all the more sweet because it’s on Yoongi’s lips.

It’s so different, now that you’re allowing yourself to really feel it. You fit together so perfectly. His lips feel so right on yours. How could you have been so blind before?

You expect Yoongi to press you against the wall, or slide his hands up the skirt of your dress, or groan your name into your mouth like he can’t get enough of you. You know you can’t get enough of him. In his suit, waiting to be unwrapped like a present.

You want Yoongi to do those things, desperately. You want to pay attention properly this time, you want not to shy away from the intimacy of it all. You want whispered praise in your ear, eye contact while he fucks you, his lips on yours and his stilted moan as he spills inside of you. You want the softness that comes after, for him to clean you up with care and wrap you in his arms. You want to sleep in his bed for a reason other than exhaustion. 

But instead, Yoongi pulls away, grasping your shoulders gently as he creates distance between you. You look up at him, confused.

“Rina’s probably waiting for you,” he says.

“I promise you, she’s not,” you snort. Rina knows better than to expect you home before morning at the earliest. You surge forward, leaning up to chase his lips again, but he remains out of reach.

“Y/N…” Conflicted. 

Right. Of course, duh! You’re getting ahead of yourself. 

You forgot, in the haze of your epiphany, that your last conversation with Yoongi didn’t exactly bode well for your sex bubble. You need to set the record straight, then.

“Yoongi, if this is about earlier… the Suga thing,” you start, leaning in to pepper kisses down his neck, your fingers coming up to fiddle with his tie, loosening it. “I’m not mad, okay?”

Yoongi shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “No, I just…” He trails off, sighing. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, Y/N. The friends with benefits thing.”

You freeze.

Dread fills you instantly, replacing all of the warmth that had been inhabiting your body just moments before.

Why now? What’s changed? You know what’s changed for you, but it can’t be the same for him if he’s pulling away from you like this.

Yoongi gently removes your hand from his tie, takes a step back from you. Crushes all of your hope with his next words.

“I just don’t know if I can do this with you.”

With you. 

“Oh,” you breathe. You feel like you’re going to cry. The beginnings of tears are already welling up in your eyes, and you do your best to blink them away.

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be,” you say, forcing your expression to remain neutral. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“I still want to be your friend, Y/N,” Yoongi says, his voice pained, like he can see right through you. You wish he’d stop. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you say, your own voice breaking just a little. You don’t want to cry in front of him. Fuck that. “I’m gonna go home. See you.”

Before he has a chance to say anything else, you’re speedwalking to your apartment, fishing your keys out hurriedly to unlock it and rush in. 

Once you’re inside, you lean back against the door, sliding down until you’re sitting on the floor. It feels so similar to the night you met him—running away from him in the hallway, feeling like you can’t breathe once you’re on the other side of the door. Too bad it’s so, so different.

At the sound of the door, Rina comes out from your bedroom, Pepper in tow.

“Y/N? Is that you? I thought for sure you’d be getting dicked down right about n—” You watch her stop in her tracks at the sight of you, her expression laden with concern. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“There are strings,” you sniffle, looking up at your best friend with watery eyes. “And it’s my fault.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Rina breathes, setting Pepper down and immediately joining you on the floor, wrapping her arms around you.

Your mind flashes back to three years ago, in a position not all that different from this one. But that was for a relationship, one that lasted years. One that you foolishly assumed was heading for marriage. Why does this hurt just as much? Why did Yoongi nestle himself into the softest, most vulnerable parts of you just to rip himself away at the last second?

You finally allow yourself to cry.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro @coffeedepressionsoup @butterymin @pitchblack0309 @sugar-snap

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[sturniozo]

Savage Love Part Eleven

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

masterlist

“He has what?” Emma says on the other end of the phone call. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not!” I tell her. “And now his brothers are here and I can’t leave!”

“I told you being with him seriously was a bad idea.”

I sigh. “I know, I know. But he… he seemed so nice. He didn’t seem like he-“

“I told you he was a Mafia leader, y/n.”

I look at the door of Matt’s bedroom to make sure his brothers aren’t listening in on me.

“I saw the photos and I closed the door. His brothers came home and I can’t go in and look again to investigate.”

“You shouldn’t have quit the article, this is big.”

“Emma!” I whisper shout into the phone. “I have more important things than that right now!”

“Well how do you believe me that he’s bad news?”

“Yes, okay, yes.”

“Good. Now, you need out of there.”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last hour?!” I ask in a loud whisper.

“His brothers are where in the house?” Emma asks.

“Downstairs somewhere.”

“Do you think you could climb out the window?”

I pause. “What?”

“Climb out the window. Do you think you can?”

“Give me a moment.” I mumble as I look over to the window. I’m only on the second floor but the walls are so high that it seems more like the third or fourth. “I don’t think I can swing that.”

“Something that doesn’t make sense to me though.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Why would he leave the key where you would find it? It’s like he wanted you to find it. Like he wanted you to see-“

“Yeah that’s been bugging me too.” I sit down in the bed and scratch the back in my neck.

“Do you think you can look in there again? Without getting caught by Huwey and Luwey?”

“Maybe…” I get up and go back to Matt’s office. I pick up the key and then creep to the hallway.

“Go to face time.” Emma says and I switch the call to face time. Emma’s face appears on my screen and I shush her to make sure she doesn’t speak and get me caught.

I look down the hallway and down the stairs. Chris and Nick are downstairs doing whatever, which gives me the chance to look back in the room.

I change the camera from front to back to show Emma the room. I unlock the door and open it slowly, flicking on the light before slowly closing the door behind me to make sure Chris and Nick don’t catch me.

“Oh my god.” Emma says.

The room is filled wall to wall with photos of my ex boyfriend, my old boss, and basically any person that’s ever wronged me in my life. A big red X over my ex boyfriend’s face.

“Does the X mean…” Emma says.

“I don’t know…” I whisper.

“I’m gonna check to see if anyone’s heard from him.”

“Emma…”

“I’m screen recording. Do a full pan of the room.” She says.

I slowly move my phone camera around the room to get every part recorded.

“Good, now get out of there!” Emma whisper shouts and I shut off the light, and creep out of the room. I lock the door behind me and quickly walk to Matt’s office to put the key back where I found it under the desk.

“Get out of there, girl!” Emma says and I quickly make my way to the window.

“How do I get out?” I whisper to her.

“You’ve seen movies, tie the bedsheets together and climb out!”

I nod and run to the bed, pulling off the sheets and starting to tie the corners together.

“God, this is so difficult with silk sheets!” I complain as I tie the corners together. I double tie them just to make sure they down slip out of their hold.

I open the window and throw the sheets out, the tie the end to the bedpost. I slowly climb out the window with my phone in my back pocket. I scale down the wall slowly and carefully. The sheets don’t make it to the grass but make it just far enough to where it wouldn’t hurt to jump. I slip to the ground and fall on my back.

I take a second to catch my breath before getting up and starting to run to the driveway. I didn’t think this far ahead. He lives in a mansion miles away from anything. I don’t have any of the keys to his cars and even if I did he’d find me.

I sneak around to the front and make sure to hide away from view of Matt’s brothers. I rush to the driveway and start running as fast as I can.

I start to loose my breath after running for a long time. It felt like hours even though it was only a few minutes. God I wish I didn’t skip my gym classes in high school.

The sun was going down when I had called Emma a little over an hour ago, and now it’s almost fully dark out.

Before I could reach the main road, a car comes driving up the driveway. I gasp and step back. It’s Matt, I know it.

The car stops right in front of me and Matt steps out.

“Hey, doll, what are you doing out here?” He asks as he walks over to me. I step back to get away from him and he stops, looking at me confused. “What’s wrong, baby?” He asks.

“I… I saw it.” I say softly.

“Saw what?” He asks me.

“The room. The room with… with the photos, with the-“

“Dollface…” Matt steps closer to me and I step backwards to keep him at a distance.

“You left the key where I could find it, you wanted me to find it, you wanted me to know.” My voice tremors as my body begins to shake.

“Yes, you’re right, but I only wanted you to know I’m protecting you from them.” Matt steps closer to me again and I step backwards again as well.

“What did the X over Bennetts picture mean?” My voice cracks as I ask.

Matt stays silent. He sighs and then says “Get in the car babygirl.”

“Is he okay?” I ask.

“Just get in the car.”

“Did you kill him?”

Matt sighs again. “After what he did to you, he’s lucky all I did was kill him.”

I stand in shock in front of Matt. I’m unable to move as he steps closer to me. “It’s alright, baby, I’ve got you.” He says as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his car.

My heart races as I’m unable to move by myself from the shock. Matt opens his car door and sets me in the passenger seat. He goes to the driver seat and starts the car back up.

After a bit of silence I say “What did you do to him?” In a whisper.

Matt sighs. “I did it for you, babygirl.”

“Tell me what you did to him.”

“Y/n-“

“I will jump out of this car if you don’t tell me.” I threaten.

Matt chuckles. “I’m going 20, you wouldn’t hurt yourself.”

“Matt, tell me what you did to Bennett!”

Matt groans and shakes his head. “If I tell you, you have to promise you won’t leave me.”

“Leave you?”

“I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”

“You killed him! You killed him and you don’t want me to leave you? To think of you differently? You don’t think I will?”

“I did it for you!” He shouts back. Matt’s hands grip the steer wheel tighter. He takes a deep breath. “You think you know him but you don’t. When I first saw you, first fell for you, after our first time together, before that even. When I left that hotel room weeks ago for the first time I knew I wanted you. So I looked you up. I looked up everything I could find about you. I saw you dated him, Bennett Cassidy. I read about what he did to you, I saw the messages he screenshotted and sent to his friends acting like you were some toy instead of a human being.”Matt says calmly.

“Matt…”

“You don’t know who he is.”

“He was my high school boyfriend.”

“Oh he is so much worse than that. You have no idea darling.”

“What did you do to him?” I shout.

“Do you want the fucking details?” He snaps through his teeth.

I flinch and stare at him in shock.

“I’m- I’m sorry princess.” He says and puts his hand on my knee. I move my knee away from him and he frowns, putting his hand back in the wheel.

“Matt I want to go home.” I say calmly.

“You can’t.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“Is it too uncomfortable? I can get us a cozy cabin or-“

“I don’t want to be with you.”

Matt stops the car and looks at me. “You can’t do that.”

“Matt you killed him.”

“I did it for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that, I’d never ask for anything like that!” Tears form in my eyes.

“Y/n you can’t leave me.”

“Get away from me-“ I open the car door.

Matt opens his door and runs after me, taking my arm. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

“Let go of me.” I try to pull away from him.

“Y/n please, don’t make me do this!” He begs and my breath hitches.

“Do what? What are you going to do to me?” I try to pull away from him again.

“I’m sorry, darling.” He says. He pinches my neck and everything goes black.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover @sturniolobessed @eyelessdemon00 @sturnioloenthusiast @sturniolopookie @urmommysbathroom @qwertytit @whatever1021 @chrisfavoritepepsi @stramboli4life @sturniolosreads @timmyscomputer @iloveneilperry @chrisloyalgf @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @nickmillersn1gf

[lulublack90]

Prompt 30 - Missing Scene

@wolfstarmicrofic July 30, word count 840

CW - Blood

Part eleven of werewolf Sirius

Previous part First part

The transformation back had been quick. Quicker than usual. The wolf had been happy. He had created a new playmate. He’d been so careful only to bite once. He’d waited for the human to pass out from the pain and then curled up around the prone body, keeping him warm while the magic took effect. He’d woken up as himself, still curled around Sirius. 

“Sirius, Sirius,” He croaked, nudging the man. Sirius didn’t move. “Sirius!” He cried, grabbing hold of Sirius’s robes. His hands came away wet. It took him a second to realise the wet was blood. His hands shook before his face as flashes of the previous night returned to him. 

The door suddenly swung open, banging loudly off the stone. Four wizards with raised wands stormed in. He didn’t recognise any of them. Then a witch entered. She was dressed all in black. Her high cheekbones, blue eyes and curly black hair gave no doubt to which family she belonged to. Bellatrix tilted her head to the side and smiled wickedly at him. 

“Tut tut Wolfie, you’ve been a naughty dog, haven’t you? Bad pets get punished.” All levity left her face and a blank haughtiness took over. “The Dark Lord wants that one,” She rasped, pointing at Remus. The four wizards advanced. He scrambled to protect Sirius’s unconscious body. 

“NO!!!” He screamed as they dragged him backwards away from Sirius. “SIRIUS!!! SIRIUS, I LOVE YOU, PLEASE REMEMBER THAT!!! I'M SO SORRY!!!” He screamed himself hoarse, struggling with every step against his captors as they moved him from the cell. “Sirius!” He croaked out a sob. 

He was thrown in front of a fireplace. 

“I hear you haven’t been playing nice downstairs, dog.” A cold voice spoke from the shadows. “Not to worry though, your father is coming to collect you,” Remus’s head snapped up at that. Lyall was dead. How could he possibly come here? His eyes locked with none other than Voldemort himself. 

He didn’t even think, he lunged forward, teeth bared and snarling, the remnants of the wolf taking over. 

“Incarcerous,” Voldemort said lazily, barely twitching his wand to produce the spell. Remus fell heavily to the floor, his arms and legs tied tightly, his mouth gagged. 

The fire in the hearth blazed green and a figure stepped out of it. He looked on in horror as he recognised the man who had turned him all those years ago. He snarled around his gag, writhing on the ground trying to free himself. 

“Hello, Cub, long time no see,” Greyback grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dirty fingernails digging in and dragged him to the fireplace. “My Lord,” Greyback bowed, “Thank you for returning my cub, he’s been missing from the pack for far too long,” 

“Not at all, Fenrir. Not at all,” Voldemort replied, waving him off. Fenrir threw floopowder into the fireplace and said an address inaudibly. They were whipped away to a shack and then apparated to a forest. 

Fenrir didn’t free him. He dragged him to a bunker and threw him in. 

Remus stayed there with no explanation for three months. The other wolves took pity on him and released him for the moon's, but he was expected to return once he’d transformed back. He’d begged for the first few weeks for them to free him, but he could see the fear in each person's eyes when he asked, Greyback had warned them off, probably violently. 

He made a friend, though friend is a loose term. Marcus wouldn’t leave him alone. Remus confessed what he’d done below Lestrange Castle and Marcus tried to comfort him. But he didn’t deserve comfort. 

He wallowed, the only escape was when he transformed. He now craved the few hours a month when he didn’t have human cares or emotions, just his wild urges.

After his third moon, he was hurriedly returned to the bunker. Previously, he’d made his own way there, but today he was marched between two other wolves. 

He could hear the other members of the pack whispering excitedly and then falling silent. He strained his ears to hear what was being said, but he couldn’t quite make out Greyback’s words. 

Then the man himself appeared before him. 

 “I’ve brought you a present, Cub,” He declared, opening the barred door. “I hope you enjoy it.” 

“You have nothing I could ever want,” Remus snarled, balling his hands into fists. 

“Now, now, Cub. Go and have a look for yourself. Your gift is in the main camp.” Greyback turned his back on Remus and strode away. Remus couldn’t help it. He was curious as to what this gift was. 

He made for the trees instead of walking across the open camp. He peered through the low branches and froze when he spotted a familiar figure huddled around the campfire. He burst through the trees just as the figure turned to face him. 

“Remus,” Sirius sighed as Remus wrapped his arms around him. He was thin, but he was alive. Sirius was alive. 

Final part

[yutahoes]

Caramel

(Part Eleven)

characters: stripper! Yuta x female! wealthy! Y/N genre: chaptered, smut, angst, fluff word count: 3.1k words summary: Y/N has everything in her bitter life, not until she meets a sweet-looking stripper. warnings: matured theme, stripper au!, third person POV, flashback, accidental murder(?) (please see past chapters), mentions of death and killing, running away taglist: @cherrymotodude @tenjyucat @justsomekpopstuff @ilhoonseyeballs @whyme11 @a-bts-world @amazinggraxia a/n: I'm sorry if this took some time to post and it felt nothing. Classes already started and the last two weeks had been so busy. I plan to make this end in just fifteen chapters but I haven't come up with the ending just yet. Thank you for being patient and for waiting for this next chapter.

Part Ten

President Y/N Y/L/N. 

It was a designation she had always wanted all the time. A position she had yearned for. Now that it’s in her reach, why isn’t she ecstatic about it? 

This is everything she had wanted all along. Is it possible that she wanted something else now? Can her dreams change in an instant? 

It was planned all along, Y/N discovered. When Jaehyun agreed to this engagement, in the first place, he suggested that Y/N would take over her father’s position in the company. He reasoned out that she deserved it. She had been working hard for the company so she should take the position. However, although she had the highest position in the company, she will still be working under Jaehyun’s management. 

She thought nothing would benefit their company with this merging but the stakeholders all agreed that this would strengthen both companies. The Jungs with their local standing and the Kims with their global reach. 

A powerful female in a male-dominated environment isn’t a good look to a well-established company. She had done a lot of things for the company, and even Jaehyun - the future chairman- thought that she deserved this. So why can’t the board of directors accept the decision? What more should she do for them to warm up to her? And it stressed the hell out of Y/N. 

Junyoung was wide-eyed seeing his sister outside his school. Immediately, he ran to her as if they hadn’t seen each other that morning. “Why are you here?” he asked. “You’re not that busy in the office?” 

The girl only giggled, taking his backpack and then opening the backseat door for him. “I want to have ice cream with you.” The younger boy grinned widely. 

Y/N was just staring at her brother, smearing his face with the banana split he ordered just for himself. A smile escaped her lips because of his childishness. Junyoung is so innocent, it is endearing. A contrast to her wicked world. 

She’s relieved Junyoung came into her life. 

The best ploy her mom had ever done. 

She can’t wait to see Junyoung grow up and be an amazing man. Will she still be a part of him at that time? “Junyoung,” she called quietly. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” There was a phase in his life when he wanted to be a model like Jungwoo and then a musical actor like Doyoung. He even wanted to be a fireman and a doctor. But what exactly does her brother want to be in life? Is it too early to ask that question? 

The younger smeared ice cream on his face which made her chuckle, reaching some tissues to wipe the chocolate off his lips. “My dream is to be like you.” She stopped what she was doing. Junyoung grinned, his chubby cheeks evident. “I’ll take over the company so you can rest and travel abroad like Jungwoo and Doyoung hyung.” 

What? 

Her younger brother pushed the bowl of ice cream in front of her, “You should eat some ice cream.” He even handed her his spoon. “Coffee is bad for you, especially those dark ones you always drink.” Y/N had to stare at her coffee cup, dark coffee with a hint of caramel. Just how she liked it. “Ice cream would make you feel good.” 

“I feel good,” she chimed in but Junyoung shook his head. “Why? Do I look bad?” 

Once again Junyoung shook his head. “You’re still the prettiest.” She giggled. “But you look better when you still weren't Jaehyun’s wife.” She badly wanted to correct him. She isn’t Jung Jaehyun’s wife just yet. They’re just engaged to be married. 

But those words startled her. First, why isn’t Junyoung calling Jaehyun hyung? Second, what does he mean by that? 

“You look happier with Yuta hyung.” He claimed while munching a spoonful of ice cream. 

She stared at him blankly then at the warm coffee cup in her hands. She had underestimated Junyoung’s innocence. How did he know these things? Caramel. Making her lighter. A boost of serotonin.

She misses him. 

Maybe Junyoung’s words stuck in her mind that she doesn’t feel ecstatic even if the party was about her and Jaehyun. How could both their mothers organize this kind of party? Although there are familiar faces, she can’t seem to find the courage to greet them. “Are you alright?” Jungwoo asked, handing her a glass of champagne. 

Even a small sip of champagne doesn’t sit well with her. “I’m fine, I’m just tired.” She leaned on her brother’s shoulder, feeling her knees weak. “I want to leave already.” 

“This is your party.” The girl rolled her eyes in annoyance, making Jungwoo chuckle. He drank the contents of the champagne glass she was holding earlier. “I invited the guys from the club. Did you know that it was shut down?” 

Y/N stood up to look at her brother in surprise. She didn’t know that. The club had shut down? Why? And they’re here? Her eyes started wandering around and as if her eyes cleared up saw Johnny’s tall frame. “Ten explained that a rich woman bought the club,” The way Jungwoo said those words confused Y/N. She quickly spotted Ten and then Taeyong. “And ever since that, they had never seen Yuta.”  Her eyes turned to Jungwoo in surprise. What?

She felt chills all over her body and she visibly shivered. Goosebumps appeared on her skin as her eyes focused on one person, a woman in a purple dress smirking her way. Nothing bad happened to Yuta, right? She didn’t do anything to him, right? Y/N’s feet were dragging her to where she was, loud clanging of glass and small yelps could be heard as she kept on bumping to some of the guests. “Y/N,” someone called holding her arm. She wanted to call his name. Then maybe, just maybe, he could appear before her. “What’s wrong?” He’ll assure her that he’s fine. That she didn’t harm him. 

That she isn’t the reason why something bad happened to him. 

"Y/N," the voice called once again. In her teary vision, she could see Doyoung looking at her in concern. "Let's get you out of here."

-------

The room was dark and freezing. The sound of pouring rain and the thunderstorm rang in Y/N’s ears. Loud voices can be heard echoing from outside the house but it was muffled by her hand on both her ears. Tears sprang from her eyes as her lips pleaded for everything to stop. She could see her teardrops on the floor in the faint shade of red—her older brother’s blood. 

“This is an accident!” a male booming voice can be heard. “We cannot put our own daughter in jail. She’s still young.” 

“Then we should just get rid of her.” 

“Are you even hearing yourself? We still have a child left. This is a tragedy but shouldn’t we just focus now on taking care of Y/N?” 

“How would I take care of a monster? A murderer?” 

“If you don’t want to take care of her, I’ll take her away from here.” A small light can be seen as the door opens, “I wouldn’t let you hurt my daughter. I’ll take her away from you.” 

The small glimpse of light was immediately changed to red and blue blinking lights, an ear-piercing siren sound blaring in the rainy night. 

Even at a young age, Y/N knew she could not escape her. That running away meant hurting the people she loved. 

If she wanted to know if Yuta was safe, she needed to obey her. If she becomes the official president of the company, she’ll have all the resources to look for him. Then maybe, just maybe, she could run away from all of this. 

An idea that sounds so incredulous now that she’s wearing her bridal dress. 

This should be a joyous event but she felt as if all the weight of the world was on her shoulders. A gentle knock on the door can be heard and she breathed heavily before telling the person to come in. Her stepdad was wearing a crisp tuxedo, looking really dashing, with a wide grin on his face. “You’re very lovely.” Y/N returned the same smile, thanking him for the compliment, as he gestured if he could sit beside her. “If your dad was here, he’d probably cry seeing his little girl wearing a wedding gown.” The thought only added weight to her shoulders. She was the reason why he was brought to jail. She was the cause of his death. “I knew I would,” He then sniffled a little. “I think I will.” 

Y/N gave him a soft smile, taking some tissues to hand it to the older who had tears in his eyes. “Dad, thank you for taking care of me and mom.” He shook his head, “Thank you for accepting me as your daughter and letting me experience how to have a dad.” The tears flowed non-stop which made her giggle, “In my next life, I hope you’re my real dad.”

“Your dad will hate me but I’m glad you became my daughter in a short time.” He laughed lightly, wiping the tears from his eyes. “I hope you’ll find happiness with Jaehyun.” And she wished the same. 

Once she goes out of that door and into the event hall, she’ll be a Jung. Not a Y/L/N, not a Kim. She’ll be a daughter-in-law of a wealthy family. Not a Kim stepdaughter and especially not her mother’s daughter. This is her only chance to run away and live a new life. She cannot just run away right now. “Dad,” she called, “Can you walk me down the aisle?” 

It was a sure way for her to reach the end of the wedding aisle. Even if her mother was staring evilly at her for her impulsive decision, she held onto her stepfather’s arm tight. She cannot let go right now. 

She will obey her for the last time. And her life will be better.

Jaehyun looks really handsome in his tailor-made suit. The initial impression of him looking like a prince didn’t leave Y/N even if they grew up together. She used to think that the girl he loved would be the luckiest in the world. And she still thinks that will be the case. Except the idea of taking away that experience by marrying him feels like a heavy burden to her. Jaehyun should be waiting on the altar for the girl he loves. He should be getting married to the love of his life. Not to her.  

And she wished this could be like the movies where a young man would come in to stop the wedding. A young man with a bright smile and sweet scent. But even if the person in charge of the wedding paused to give time for anyone to stop the wedding, silence deafened the crowd. Y/N had lost her hope to see Yuta again. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, do you take Jung Jaehyun to be your lawfully wedded husband…?” The other words became too blurry. She can’t. She shouldn’t. But she must. “I do.” 

“Do you, Jung Jaehyun, take…?” All the chances are now gone. 

She heard the gasps of the crowd before Jaehyun’s words registered in her ears. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” Her eyes went to Jaehyun then to the other older person in front of them who asked the younger what he meant. The man in front of her held her hand, “I hate to do this when you’re this pretty, Y/N.” She was confused. Do what? “But we can’t get married.” What? She was more confused. What? Why? 

From her peripheral vision, she saw how Jaehyun’s parents stood up at what the younger man claimed. Her mom even called his name, “Mom, Dad, could you please ask everyone to leave?” There was confusion in everyone’s face. Is this really happening?

Y/N’s head was pounding at what was happening. Are they getting married or not? Why did Jaehyun stop the wedding? She needed to calm her mind. She wanted to sit down. 

But someone had other things in mind. 

Y/N felt a hard slap on her cheek and was about to tumble to the ground if not for someone holding her shoulder. “What the hell did you do?” Her mom shouted loud enough for her voice to echo in the halls of the event place. 

“Auntie, this is my decision. Y/N had nothing…” She heard the man holding her say. 

“This is about that guy, isn’t it?” The older asked making Y/N look at her. Although she doesn’t say anything, she knows what she means. “I should have gotten rid of him.” She hissed under her breath that startled Y/N.

Her mind was clouded and her knees felt weak but Y/N lunged forward to at least look taller than her mom. “What did you do to Yuta?” The older woman smirked. She was confused, tired, and just utterly confused. If this continues, she knows she’ll do something drastic. “Why, Mom?” She cried, tears streaming down her face. “Why do you hate me so much?” 

A loud cackle can be heard, maniacally chilling that Junyoung even held onto his eldest brother’s hand in fright. “I always wished that it was you who died that night.” The older woman’s name was called by the loud stern voice of Y/N’s stepdad. “You have always caused me pain, Y/N.” 

Her knees weakened at those words. She had always known that. Always felt that hatred. But hearing it now, coming from her own mother’s mouth made it more painful. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not knowing what to say. She just wanted this pain to go away. She doesn’t want to cry anymore. Not in front of her stepbrothers, not in front of her real brother who looks up at her. She just wanted everything to stop. “What should I do for you to forgive me?” 

“Leave. Kill yourself,” There was a gasp then a tight hold on Y/N’s forearm, “You’re not even a daughter to me.” 

Y/N could do that. If that was what makes her happy. 

That is her job as her daughter, isn’t it? 

She felt her hand being held before being dragged out of the hall. The tears from her eyes aren’t giving her a clear image of the person and she wanted to trick herself into believing that this is Yuta. When the door of a black car was opened, she felt her hand shaking. “Get in, Y/N. I’m going to take you away from here.” 

“I could just die.” 

Jaehyun’s hold on her was so tight that it started to sting. “That’s not what you want, Y/N. Do not listen to your mom or anyone else.” He shouted. In the years that she had known Jaehyun, this was the first time that she saw anger in his eyes. He had always been so calm and serious but not angry at all. Not to her, at least. “What do you want to do, Y/N?” 

Her voice hitched in her throat. It was a question that she had never asked herself. A question she doesn’t know how to answer. “Yuta,” she whispered. “I want to see Yuta.” 

The dimple on Jaehyun’s cheek can be seen as he smiled warmly at her, asking her to get inside the car. “We’ll go to his place then look for him there. I’ll ask help from an investigator I know so we could locate him, if ever.” He explained while driving the car away from the place. “I’ll make sure you can have a fresh start with him. Away from your mom and all of this.” Y/N was just staring at him. How did Jaehyun think about those things? Did he plan these beforehand? “About the company, I’ll make sure that the stocks would remain in your name even if you decide to leave.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you deserve this, Y/N.” 

The girl shook her head. “I mean, why are you doing this Jaehyun? We can get married and…” 

“But that is not what you want.” He claimed without looking at her. “I’m not the person you love, Y/N. I knew that the first time I saw you looking at Yuta. Why would I make you suffer? I don’t want you to be unhappy because of me.”    

Jaehyun had grown up so much. That was the thought running through Y/N’s mind as she watched him driving to get her away from the place bringing her pain. He used to be so quiet, so meek. He would always hide behind her whenever he’s asking something from his father. Now, he stood up for her. Not just in front of his parents, but in front of hers. 

She could run away. That is the only option she has right now. Run away with Yuta. 

But what if he wasn’t there? What if something bad happened to him? At least she had an ounce of hope that he wasn’t dead based on what her mom claimed. But will she ever get to see him again? 

She probably should just run away alone. That would lessen her pain and expectations. 

Maybe that would stop her from causing harm to another person involved with her. 

“Jaehyun, can you lend me some money?” The guy nodded although confused. “I’ll go abroad.” The guy had to stop the car to look at her, the first time he did during the whole car ride. “You could go back and tell them I ran away with Yuta.”   

“Where would you go?” 

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “But I know I can’t take you with me. I don’t want you to be in trouble, Jae.” 

Jaehyun just stared. Confusion was written on his face before breathing a heavy sigh. He returned to driving, “Just remember that if you ever feel hopeless or if you need anything, please run to me Y/N.” 

She smiled at her childhood friend. He really did grew up well. The person marrying him would be the luckiest in the world and she’s just glad that she didn’t take away that chance for anyone. “I will, Jae. Thank you.” 

But Y/N knew that would hardly happen. This is all on her now. She cannot just run to Jaehyun and bother his life.

Her hand grazed her stomach, the material of her wedding dress soft against her skin.   

At least for them, she knew she could not. 

Part Twelve

[aihoshiino]

(139 spoilers!)

I know we all feel extremely disgusted by Airi and thus I started to consider her death. Taiki mentioned that it was a murder-suicide and Akane pinpointed that incident right before the twins were conceived... Which means that very close to HKAI got together (before or after), Hikaru was freed from Airi's control.

Putting my tinfoil hat on but I'm guessing the deaths had something to do with Hikaru. Either he did it or orchestrated it to to happen? (By revealing Airi's true colours to her husband.)

The more I think about Taiki the more I feel for him because dude lived his life thinking his legal father was an asshole & chose to bear his mother's name instead but then 15YL script came out. Just wish that Aqua at least had the decency to catch up with him before all this happened because obviously he knew when he agreed to do it.

So, the timeline for Airi's death is a little weird.

In chapter 68, Taiki says he was 'about five' when it happened which is obviously vague enough to leave some wriggle room for him to be a bit older if necessary.

We know Hikaru was eleven or so when Taiki was conceived and that he's a year younger than Ai, who is a third year middle schooler when she and Hikaru meet. This would place Ai at around fourteen years old and Hikaru at around thirteen as of ch139's movie scenes, meaning that Taiki is one or two years old here and we are two years out from Ai's pregnancy.

That gives us a span of anywhere between two to five years before the murder-suicide takes place.

Depending on exactly where the characters' ages all fall on the timeline, this does all seem to line up with the idea that the HKAI relationship and Airi's death happened in very close proximity to each other.

H O W E V E R. . . We have one major wrench thrown into this by chapter 95, where Saitou states that he clearly remembers when this incident happened and that the news broke while he was in a meeting with Ai about B-Komachi's Dome concert.

I'm not super sure how long it takes to fully plan a concert like that but typically, concerts at a venue like Tokyo Dome are announced six to nine months in advance. Being as generous as possible, let's say it takes another three to six months of planning and negotiations before it gets to the announcement stage. This means there was between a year and a year and a halfs' worth of time prior to Ai's death where this meeting would have taken place, which would place the incident as happening when she was around nineteen or eighteen. Either way, if Saitou is correct here, this means the incident happened well after the twins were born.

So what does this all mean? well what it means is that the oshi no ko timeline is absolutely penised and you shouldn't worry about it too hard.

More seriously, it means we can't really directly place when the incident happened just yet because the information surrounding it is all loosey-goosey. I do imagine it'll come up in the movie at some point purely on the basis of Airi's inclusion and the explicit depiction of her abuse of Hikaru but it's hard to say at this point exactly what came first - HKAI romance or Airi's death?

Regardless... I'm gonna get on my soapbox a little and say (and this is absolutely not aimed at you, anon, bc this is clearly a good faith question and I don't want you to feel bad lol) I am honestly not a huge fan of the idea of Hikaru being framed as culpable for Airi's death.

Like... at the end of the day, Hikaru was a teenage boy when this all happened. Uehara was an adult man. Even if I really stretch my suspension of disbelief and let myself believe that Hikaru somehow knew that Uehara was going to murder Airi as a result... sorry, but Uehara is still the one who did the actual murder! Even if Hikaru was the one to finally speak up about his abuse, it was Uehara who took it to the extreme that he did.

I also just don't think it really works, thematically speaking, with what Oshi no Ko has consistently said about the way children are exploited and abused by adults in the entertainment industry and how terrifyingly few safety nets there in place to either prevent it happening or help them recover in the aftermath. Given just how few punches the story is pulling thus far with its depiction and condemnation of the horror of Airi's actions and the sheer terror Hikaru shows when faced with her... it's really hard for me to imagine the story making him culpable for her death in a way we are supposed to condemn.

Not only that, but we don't even know if Hikaru was the one to give that info to Uehara. We have speculation on the topic from characters who are generally reliable but it's not something we can say we know without a shadow of a doubt. Not only that, but...

It's possible I'm reading too much into it, but the framing of this exchange seems to imply that - at least within 15YL's portrayal of events - Uehara may already suspect something is going on with Airi -> Hikaru.

[bullet-prooflove]

Past Mistakes Part Twenty: Bad News - Mike Duarte x Reader (feat: Joe Velasco)

Tagging: @mysoulisasunflower @resonmalvo @@littleone65 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mydarkestsecretlol @evee87 @wooshwastaken @hearthockey @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @rosaliedepp @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @legit9thlunaticwarrior @kiwiithecrazybird @spooky-pomegranate @telepathay @weiwei0210 @spaghettificationandpretzels @plaidbooks @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

Past Mistakes Series:

Part One: Try - Mike turns back up in your life after three years apart.

Part Two: Hope (NSFW) - Mike and you get reaquainted.

Part Three: California - Mike and you discuss the past.

Part Four: Favours - Mike asks Liv for a favour.

Part Five: Choices - Mike comes face to face with someone from his past.

Part Six: Truth Hurts - Mike begs you to tell him the truth about what happened three years ago.

Part Seven: Sharing - Mike and Joe have a conversation.

Part Eight: Buried - Mike discovers that McGrath’s misdeeds go far futher than he thought.

Part Nine: Complicated - Mike discusses moving forward.

Part 10: Feral - Mike returns to the apartment to find you’ve disappeared.

Part Eleven: Torture - You wake up in the basement.

Part Twelve: Fire - You and Joe discuss moving forward.

Part Thirteen: Lost Time - You and Mike get real on his porch.

Part Fourteen: Plan B - Mike always has a plan B.

Part Fifteen: Proud - Mike tells you how proud he is of what you’re doing.

Part Sixteen: Mattituck (NSFW) - You show Mike how much you love him.

Part Seventeen: Seven - Joe makes a discovery.

Part Eighteen: Patterns - Benson and Murphy discover the reality of McGrath’s misdeeds.

It’s done.

The case has been handed over to Carisi and the indictment comes down tomorrow. All of the work they’ve undertaken over the past few months finally comes to fruition. There’s no more subterfuge or embargoes there’s just the reality of the situation laid out on a whiteboard in the incident room they’ve been working out of since this whole thing started.  

Joe stands before it with his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze studying each picture of the victims. There are eight of them including you.

You’d assumed you were just another victim in the long line of women that McGrath had assaulted but you weren’t, you were the catalyst, you were Victim Zero.

Yours was the crime that McGrath emulated over and over again, perfecting his technique because he hadn’t managed to succeed the first time.

Joe’s eyes come to rest upon McGrath’s final victim.

Number Eight: Detective Cass Matthews.

She’d committed suicide by overdosing in a motel in Bronx last month, because she hadn’t wanted her sister to find the body. Laura had come forward not long after Cass’s death, submitting a complaint because Cass had told her she was being repeatedly assaulted by one of her superiors, she just hadn’t said which one.

The thing is straight after the first attack, the one where McGrath had injured Cass so badly, she’d had to tell her Captain she was mugged, she had gone to the hospital. She’d had a rape kit completed, there were photographs of her injuries. She hadn’t wanted to press charges, so Bronx SVU had let it slip through the cracks.

Cass’s sister had given Joe permission to run the kit. He wasn’t surprised when the results came back to McGrath. He hadn’t bothered using protection, he’d had a vasectomy years ago, Joe remembers him complaining about it after he’d knocked his wife up for the third time.

Joe doesn’t say anything when Murphy enters the room. He’s too busy thinking about all the lives that have been destroyed by his former mentor, how McGrath had sat there and told him it was all consensual, that each and every woman had wanted him. He’d seen the pictures of what he’d done to Cass that night, the bruising on her arms and legs, her throat, her mouth. He knows what violence looks like.

“I’ve called Duarte, let them know the indictment’s coming down tomorrow.” Murphy informs Joe, his hands coming to rest on either side of him as he leans back against the desk.

“I guess we won’t be the only ones losing sleep tonight.” Joe says quietly as he tilts his head towards Murphy. “What they went through… What they’re going to go through…”

Joe shakes his head because it isn’t right. You shouldn’t have to be raked over the coals by McGrath’s lawyer, you shouldn’t have to relive the most traumatic moments of your life in front of an entire courtroom because the bastard refuses to admit what he’s done.

“It’s a means to an end.” Murphy says knowingly. “It’s shitty and-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a gunshot. It erupts through the building with a loud retort, the boom echoing through the quiet corridors. Murphy’s already in motion, his hand on his own weapon as he rushes out of the door.

Joe doesn’t bother to follow.

There’s a heaviness in him because he knows where the gunshot came from, what Murphy will find when he steps inside McGrath’s office. He doesn’t want to see that, the brains of his previous mentor splattered across his desk. There’s a bitterness in his mouth because yet again McGrath has escaped justice and Joe just can’t stomach it.

It’s a couple of hours later that he picks up the phone, he watches McGrath’s body being wheeled out in a black bag as his thumb hovers over Duarte’s number.

It rings three times before Duarte picks up.

“Velasco,” He says, his voice rough from sleep. “I take it you have bad news.”

Love Mike Duarte? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ecargmura]

Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective Episode 13 Review + Final Thoughts - See You In Season 2

This may be the final episode, but it’s a Christmas present! The staff announced a second season! I’m so glad! This show was so fun that it’d be a waste to not have a continuation. Since it’s still in production, the release date has yet to be finalized. Let’s just hope it steps up the story more than the first season. Because it’s the final episode, the opening updates one last time; Mii and her grandfather, the mayor, are added onto the table behind Ron when Toto and Ron meet up.

I did like how Toto actually did try to solve most of the case this time around; too bad he couldn’t figure out the final step, which was the location of the key murder weapon, the rope. I’m proud of Toto for not relying too much on Ron this time around. 

The episode basically concludes the murder case by exposing the culprit, the mayor. I did predict the mayor and Muroi, so getting the former right made me happy. Though, I didn’t really predict the murder weapon or the motive, so getting into why he did it got me intrigued. It turns out that the mayor was hiding something in the mountains and killed the official as he knew what it was and threatened to expose him. What he was hiding was none other than Spitz’s brother, Shepherd.

The reason Shepherd hid himself for the past eleven years was that he learned crucial information that could’ve gotten him and his loved ones killed, which was why he disappeared without saying anything to Spitz. The villagers, the Mayor and Mii knew he was hiding, so they all did whatever they could to protect him. Throughout those eleven years, Mii developed feelings for Shepherd and they most likely hooked up after the mayor gets arrested. It was really nice seeing Spitz reunited with his long-lost brother, but I am also curious; what did he learn that warranted him into hiding? Was it something that had to do with the M Family?

Ron’s magic eyes almost gotten Toto killed, but I’m glad that he’s not too shaken up over it this time as Shepherd came in last minute with the rope. Back in Episode 6, Ron was so shaken up about how Toto almost got killed, but Toto didn’t mind risking his life. I’m glad that for this case, Ron was able to trust Toto and not get too vulnerable. I make it seem like it’s a good thing he doesn’t care; I promise I’m not!

Another twist happened when Spitz carries out his promise to Ron by infiltrating BLUE’s secret stash but gets caught by Eme Emmerich, the principal of BLUE. I was on edge when he got caught, thinking he’d get killed or exposed, but it turns out that the principal isn’t as strict as she initially seemed. She has a fondness for Ron, which was why she gave Spitz a special message for him to pass onto him. The message says that Ron really isn’t the culprit of the Bloody Field Training incident and that he was framed; the framer was an unknown third party who deleted everything about the case to conceal Ron’s innocence; yep, there’s a mole in BLUE. Not only that, she then tells who the mole belongs to: the House of M, a very notorious crime family; every crime they do is left unsolved. We already did see a hint of what they could do back in the observatory case. They’re clearly terrifying adversaries.

I liked the post-credit scenes with the House of M, mainly Winter Moriarty, making their move. I liked learning why the Moriarty, or mainly Mylo (or Milo) does this. He does this because he wants to see if Ron is worthy to become a member of their family; the reason why Ron got expelled and didn’t get his detective license was because the M Family didn’t want him to become a detective; it makes sense as he has the blood of both Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty in him. The family seems quite a strict household as they dispose anyone considered a failure; this was why Alice, one of their siblings was disposed of. I’m really anticipating what Winter and Mylo bring to the table next season. Winter hates Ron for being mixed-blood while Mylo is a sinister, palette-swapped version of Ron. Now that Winter is making their move, what sort of crimes will they commit for Ron to solve? Will it be a step up in difficulty or will it be a step down? Given the family’s rumored track record, I expect it to be a step up—no, five steps up in difficulty; if the first season was Normal mode, I expect Season 2 to be on the hardest difficulty.

I honestly can’t wait for Season 2. I’m impatient, so I might read the manga while I wait. I think that I may gain new perspectives on the cases if I read both the original source material and watch the anime when it airs. What are your thoughts on the finale and are you anticipating Season 2 as much as I am?

Final Thoughts

This show is honestly one of my Top 5 favorites for this year. I came into this show because I like Amano’s works, but it made me become a bigger fan of the mystery genre. Heck, I recently got some books as a Christmas present and one of them happens to be a mystery book. I feel like watching this show gives you a craving of mysteries.

The characters are so quirky and entertaining; they really beat the generalization that mystery stories have to have serious characters and tone. Ron Kamonohashi: Deranged Detective goes the opposite direction with the characters. Ron is seriously hilarious with his eccentric personality. Toto seems like the quintessential earnest detective, but the way he’s written is perfect as he is the ‘normal’ guy in a world and cast full of weirdos. The other characters were great too. I just wished Amamiya had a bit more screen time, but what the first season gave to us regarding her was enough for me to get a good sense of who she is. My personal favorite besides the main duo happens to be Spitz. He’s not as weird as Ron, but weird enough to be the funny man to Toto’s straight man.

The mysteries were fun, but some of them were hit or miss. My favorite case was the Observatory case where it spans three episodes and did new things like having a second known murder victim and it being a locked-room mystery. My second favorite would be the psychic case that introduced Dr. Usaki; I liked how Ron and Toto had to prove that Torage killed the victim with normal murder methods and not via ESP.  My least favorite of the bunch was definitely the Hand Collector case; I even openly admitted how much I didn’t like the case because it was all over the place. I do admit that the cases do get a bit better as the story progresses, so hopefully nothing like Episode 5 every pops up again.

The music was nice to listen to. I especially liked the opening! You can’t go wrong with UNISON SQUARE GARDEN and the fact that the song they sang for this show was super unexpected. For a show with gruesome murders, you wouldn’t expect an upbeat, jazz and swingy tune, but it fits the quirky nature of the show. I also love how soothing the ending song is. Speaking of the opening, I loved how it updates during or after every important case; I read somewhere that it speculates Ron opening up to the world after keeping himself isolated from cases for five years. I like that theory, so I am believing it too. I can’t wait to see if Diomedia will continue the trend with the next season.

The voice actors are great! This is the first time I heard Yohei Azakami in an anime and I’d love to watch more anime with him. He does a perfect job with Ron’s eccentrics and seriousness. The way he made a gremlin voice when doing the hand puppet and also mimicking the television show jingle was seriously hilarious. He may be a new face, but if he can do that effortlessly, he has a great career ahead of him. Junya Enoki has always been a good voice actor. He was a good choice for Toto as he can do the “good boy” and the straight man aspects of him perfectly. The other characters had perfect voice actors too. What amazes me the most is that the anime staff casted high quality voice actors to voice the minor characters. Like, getting Maaya Uchida, Yui Ishikawa and Sayaka Senbongi as those girls from the Poisoned Latte case was crazy. Even getting Katsuyuki Konishi as Spitz’s brother was crazy too! Mylo and Winter’s voice actors are amazing too. I can’t wait to see who they cast for the second season, whether it be for minor or supporting characters.

While this isn’t the best mystery anime out there, I do recommend giving it a watch if you’re a fan of the genre. I mean, it’s also created by Akira Amano. If you’re a fan of Reborn!, come check out this show and story! Seriously! Also, when are we getting a Reborn! reboot?

[stelly38]

More Progress on The Initiate

A note about my process on this fic:  Shortly after I began writing this story, I came up with a definite ending that could remain as such, -OR- could easily be picked up and turned into a second part.  I continued writing with the intention of having a definite ending, but somewhere in the process, I changed my mind and decided to just write both “parts” and have a longer story; that’s where it was going, anyway.  -Explains why this fic has gone past the point at which I imagined I’d be finished with it.   

One other thing about process: When I write longer fics, I don’t necessarily write the whole thing in chronological order.  I work on different parts of the story concurrently, so something that happens in the last third of the story may affect something in the first third, requiring me to go back and adjust earlier details and dialogue in order to preserve continuity.  This is why I don’t publish chapters as I write them.  

In any case, the excerpt below is just another little sneak peek taken from a random part in the story.  Thanks for reading and for your patience on this!   

__________________________________________

The whiskey bottle had been nearly full when he’d started.  Ross lurches to the kitchen, stumbling over the shoes he kicked off in the hallway upon returning home.  He takes an awkward step and winces, catching himself on his bad leg. The bottle is down to its last third as he pours another drink, the golden liquid splashing over the ice in his glass.  He carries it carefully to the sofa, and sinks back down, the pain in his leg diminishing once he’s seated.

I’ve been here before…  not this precise predicament, but I find myself in messes again and again and again… Am I doomed to repeat the pattern? What twisted gene have I inherited that’s awakened after all these decades of quiet recession?  Dad was right; I’m just a fuck-up.  Here I am, middle aged, and still finding ways to ruin everything…  for everyone…

He reaches for the blanket on the end of the couch and wraps it around himself. The bright spring day outside is dimming into dusk, but the living room is dark and chilly, despite the whiskey burning its way down his throat.  He takes another drink, his head spinning.

Why would she want a mess like me?  What does she see in my wretched existence that’s so appealing?  I have nothing to offer… Does she want to be chained to this?

Ross drains the last of the whiskey and reaches to set the glass on the table, but it clatters to the floor, the ice cubes spilling onto the carpet.  The edges of the room are going blurry, and he curls up on the sofa, dragging the blanket up over his head.

He wakes to the buzzing from his phone, but he can’t find it.  He sits up too quickly, reeling from the throbbing between his temples, and squints into the living room, now bright with daylight pouring in from the windows.  There’s a sour taste in his mouth, and the previous day comes rushing toward him like a steam engine on a track.  He feels for the phone in his pockets, searches under the blanket on the couch.  The buzzing stops, but he’s still frantically searching, and drops to his knees to lift the couch cushions.  He picks up the whiskey glass and catches sight of the smooth, black edges of his phone, peeking out from beneath the sofa.  Demelza’s number is the most recent.  It’s half past eleven.

Sighing, he staggers to the bathroom to splash water on his face and brush away the funk coating his tongue. The conversations from the day before clatter through his head as he stares at himself in the mirror, minty white froth tingling at the corners of his mouth.

He starts a pot of coffee in the kitchen and sifts through the pile of bills on the table while it brews.  His phone buzzes in his pocket.  Demelza’s calling again.

“Hi,” he says.

“Ross, you sound terrible.  What’s the matter?”

“I’m fine, just had some whiskey last night.”

“Some? How much?”

“Not enough for you to worry—” he rasps.

“Too late for that.”

“Demelza, I’m fine.  I have coffee now.  I’ll be perfectly good in a couple of hours. You called me, remember? What’s up?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds before she clears her throat and says, “The Dean of Students sent me an email.  She wants to talk to me tomorrow, and I’m worried, Ross.”

His voice sinks.  “Ugh, I was wondering if she’d contact you.”

“What? You know about this?”

“Yeah, uhm, would you mind coming by so we can talk?  I don’t feel like going out, and I don’t know that I’m fit to drive just yet…”

“I’ll be right there,” she says.

When he opens the door twenty minutes later, the sunlight blinds him and he backs away, into the shadows of the house.  “Come in.”

Demelza takes in his messy hair, overgrown stubble, disheveled clothing, and bloodshot eyes.

There are creases in his cheek from where he’d crashed on the sofa.  “Oh, Ross… you’ve made yourself sick.”  She reaches for him, but he dodges her hand and shuts the front door.  They settle at the kitchen table.

“Have you eaten?” she asks, pulling open the fridge to poke at the contents.

“I had lunch yesterday,” he mumbles.

“Well, now you can have lunch today.  I’ll make you some eggs.  If you eat, you should feel better. We can talk once we get some food in you.” She turns back to the fridge and pulls out eggs, cheese, and ham.  Ross watches her and sips his coffee.  

I don’t deserve her, he thinks.  He feels like one of the zombies in Night of the Living Dead.

[bloatedandalone04]

➪the one where you and ethan get drunk and confess your feelings for one another. (requested)

Warnings: drinking, fluff, swearing, short fic

Word Count: 1.2k | Ethan Masterlist

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

When Ethan invited you over to study and maybe have a drink or two, you were beyond excited.

It was no secret that you were crushing hard on the boy, the feeling you got whenever you were around him being something you had never felt before in your life. 

It was definitely beyond just a silly middle school crush, that much you knew. 

With Chad being gone for the night and Ethan having full control over what was inside the fridge, it came as no surprise that he had offered up one too many drinks, resulting in the two of you becoming very drunk very quickly.

You were still young and still very much experimenting with your alcohol limits, and it was clear that you both had gone well beyond them. 

Reaching over and placing your can on the coffee table, you sit back against the couch and peer over at the window. At the dark sky that stared back at you, your brows furrow as you rub your eyes and ask, “What time is it?”

Ethan grabbed his phone from its place on the side table. “It’s, uh,” he trailed off, squinting his eyes before widening them, trying to blink away the blurriness that covered them. “Almost eleven thirty.”

You sat up at that, the quick movement making your head spin. “What? How? We didn’t even do any studying,” 

He looked confused for a second before his eyes narrowed on the textbooks on the coffee table that hadn’t been opened all night. “Huh,”

You laugh quietly, making him look over at you with a small grin. “I knew taking those drinks from you was a bad idea,”

Ethan shrugged and leaned further into the couch, kicking his feet up onto the table beside the books. “Weekend’s aren’t meant for studying, anyway,” he says casually, placing his hands behind his head before adding, “I feel sick.”

You give him a weary look before moving away from him. “Are you going to throw up?” 

He shakes his head. “No, not that kind of sick feeling,” he answered and you furrow your brows. 

“You’re not making any sense, Eth,” you say and reach over to poke his arm. “What kind of sickness are you feeling?”

His eyes squint slightly as he held your gaze, his arms dropping to cross over his chest. “I don’t know,” he answered as truthfully as he could. In all honesty, he really didn’t know how to describe the feeling you gave him whenever he was around you, in the same room as you, or beside you. It made him feel warm, fuzzy and wanted all at once, a certain distaste filling his mouth whenever he wasn’t with you. “I feel…different with you. I don’t know….you make me feel sick.”

You scoff at him and sit up straighter, giving his shoulder a light slap. “You jerk,” you say as you try to figure out if you should feel offended or not. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats those words for the third time, his hand gently grabbing yours after it fell from his shoulder. You both try to ignore how perfectly they fit together. “It’s not a bad feeling, just…..a different one. I don’t know.”

“If you say you don’t know one more time-” you cut yourself off, the empty threat dying on your lips as you give him a look of warning. 

He sighs and uses his free hand to rub his temple. He definitely drank too much and could already feel a headache forming. His sight was quickly leaving him, a tired feeling washing over him, yet he didn’t want to call it a night just yet. He was having too much fun with you to end it so soon. 

“It’s just..I feel good when I’m around you. I feel like I’m actually wanted whenever I’m with you. It feels different when I’m with Tara or Chad because I’m not with you,” he needs to stop talking. He needs to shut up now if he wants to continue to be friends with you the following morning. “I don’t know what I’m saying.”

You shake your head and move closer to him, keeping your hand locked in his. “No, keep going,” you wish you cared enough to be embarrassed at how desperate you sounded. 

Ethan’s eyes met yours and he almost wanted to believe the genuine look of interest in your eyes. Then again, you were the only person who ever showed a real interest in him. You were the only person he could be vulnerable with. “I hate it when I’m not around you. I want to be with you all the time. I think about you all the time,” he laughs quietly to himself pressing the heel of his palm to his eye as he feels his brain go fuzzy for a few seconds. “Fuck, I think I’m in love with you.”

You reel back at that and it was clear that Ethan had no idea what he just confessed. His eyes stay fixated on his fingers, the quick movement of your body pulling away from him seeming to have not fazed him one bit. “You’re what?” You ask and blink a few times, partly to clear your vision and partly to help figure out if you heard him correctly. “What did you just say?”

He looks over at you, confusion evident on his features as he takes in your shocked state. “What?”

“You just-” you stop mid sentence and move to sit up properly on the couch, trying not to pay any attention to the way your head spun at the fast movement. “You just said you’re in love with me.”

Ethan gives you a look before shaking his head. “No, I didn’t,” he murmured quietly. 

“Yes, you did,” you say and dare to move closer to him once again. “I just heard you say it.”

He huffs out a breath before raising one hand in question. “Well, if I did say that, I wasn’t lying or messing with you or anything like that,” he says quietly and you almost didn’t hear him over the loud beating of your heart in your ears. “I guess I do consider myself in love with you. I mean, how couldn’t I be? You’re really pretty and nice and yeah, I am definitely in love with you.”

Disbelief fills you and you look away, your eyes fixated on a spot on the wall. “I don’t believe this,” you mutter and Ethan sits up, alarmed.

“What? You don’t believe what? What did I do?” He asked quickly, making your head hurt at all the questions. “Did I just ruin everything? Fuck, I did, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m drunk and totally talking out of my-”

He is unable to finish the sentence before you’re leaning over and pressing your lips to his, a quick and effective way of shutting him up. 

Before he could even begin to think of kissing you back, you’re pulling away with a nervous smile. “I think I’m in love with you, too,”

Ethan’s look of shock is quickly wiped off and he moves even closer to you, his hand reaching up to caress the side of your face. His fingers tuck your hair behind your ear before he’s leaning in and connecting your lips once more, this time with both of you more than ready for it.

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Preventable Yet Inevitable

Summary: Remus knew from the start that Roman and Janus dating was not a good idea.  But neither of them seem to want to listen to him.

...

Remus had always kind of felt iffy about it, if he was being honest with himself. 

It’s not that he couldn’t see the obvious tension between his brother and his best friend.  He just always kind of figured they’d get really drunk one night and wake up the next morning agreeing that last night had been great, but it should probably be a one time thing.  For a multitude of reasons.

But then Roman and Janus came up to him one day and announced that they were dating.

Remus’ immediate thought, that he’d hate himself forever for, was Wow this is going to go down in flames.

But it was.  Roman still had too low of self-esteem for dating to be a good idea.  And Janus was way too good at manipulating people to get what he wanted.  It was fine and fun when that involved dicks who the three of them agreed they didn’t want to associate with.  Less fun when Remus considered what that meant in regards to his brother.  Less fun when he considered Roman’s tendency to run himself into the ground trying to prove himself good enough.

Immediately, Remus tried to banish the thought, which, in retrospect, was his first mistake.  He didn’t do that.  He always addressed the fucked up bullshit that ran through his head.  Laughed at it.  Considered it.  Marinated it.  He did not try to banish it.  That didn’t get rid of it.

But… fuck.  Two of his favorite people that he loved told him they were dating, and suddenly Remus could see so clearly how it would end in disaster, and he didn’t want that for either of them.

But what was he supposed to do?  Mediate things?  That wouldn’t so much go down in flames as it would blow up their college campus.

So Remus was stupid.  He smiled.  He congratulated them.  He told them he was happy for them.  All while his head screamed at him No no no no bad idea bad idea.

He lied to himself like a moron.  He told himself that maybe it wouldn’t go badly.  Maybe he was wrong.  It had happened before.  Nevermind that he knew his brother and his best friend better than anyone else in the world.  Maybe they’d surprise him.

God.  He hoped so.

…

“Hey, Re.  Whatcha up to?”

Remus glanced up from the couch over at Roman and raised an eyebrow.  “So he does speak to me.”

Roman blinked.  “What?”

“Oh nothing, I just figured you and Janus were still too busy being lost in each other’s eyes to acknowledge my presence.”

Roman winced.  “Oh.  Sorry.”

“Eh,” Remus waved it off as if he wasn’t worried and hurt.  “Honeymoon phase.  What’s going on?”

“Oh, actually I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Janus busy?”

“…I’m sorry.”

Remus laughed a little.  “It’s all good.  What do you want to do?”

“I figured we could hate watch some shitty movies and make fun of the writing and editing together.”

“Oooh you know I’m always down to make fun of people!” Remus said happily.  “What are we hate watching, The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Roman instantly made sputtery offended noises, and Remus cackled.

“Alright fine, we don’t have to hate watch the Cats movie then,” Roman said, turning up his nose.

“Wait no I take it back!”

“That’s what I thought.”

They ended up in front of the TV with a bowl of popcorn and mockery turned up to eleven, and Remus was ready to settle in for a thoroughly entertaining night when Roman’s phone buzzed with a text.  And then buzzed again.  And then a third time.

“Dude, just respond,” Remus said, and Roman groaned, but picked up his phone.

Apparently he didn’t want to be texted by whoever was on the other end of the line, because when he looked at his phone he groaned again and rolled his eyes.

“Christ Janus, can’t I breathe?” Roman muttered, typing something out and sending it.

Remus tensed and then immediately tried very hard to intentionally relax.  “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Janus is just asking where I am.”

“Uh… I thought you said he was busy,” Remus said, now very much failing at intentionally relaxing.

“He is.  I think he just wants to know,” Roman said with a shrug.  “He’s not gonna care that I’m with you or anything.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, wondering why that needed to be clarified.

“Anyway, let’s watch a movie,” Roman said, setting his phone to the side and turning to grab the remote.

Remus turned to face the screen and started trying to relax again.  Roman seemed to forget about it in a second, already reaching for the popcorn.  He sat back with a look on his face that meant he was ready to tear this movie to shreds and love every second of it.

So Remus sat back and tried to let it go.  Roman didn’t seem to mind.  Maybe it was fine.  He didn’t want to let a… a yellow flag ruin his night with Roman.  He’d missed hanging out with him recently, and hate watching a shitty musical movie sounded like a fantastic way to blow off some steam.

Maybe Janus was just having a weird night, or was worried because something had happened that was none of Remus’ business.  It was still fine.

Everything was fine.

…

Remus used the next day as excellent evidence that he was right about that, because they all ended up going to an art museum and having an amazing time, which was typical when the three of them were together.

Remus and Roman both poured over the symbolism in the modern art section, Remus and Janus liked looking at the abstract art (Janus to try and gain some deep insight and Remus to try and spot some dicks in the paintings), and Roman and Janus were both fascinated by the ancient art.

The whole time they were there Roman and Janus were hanging off of each other like an adorable couple and saying sweet things to each other and playfully teasing each other about their tastes in a way that meant they also totally understood.  Remus absorbed it like salve on an open wound.

See?  Look how adorable and totally normal and healthy they’re being.  They are good for each other.  They’re gonna give everyone cavities.  It’s fine.  You were wrong, and it’s fine.

After the museum they went to a cafe nearby, and all got appropriately fall themed pumpkin spice drinks.

Janus and Roman also got two straws, and while Remus was certainly glad that they were most definitely proving him wrong a hundred percent nothing to worry about here, there was also only so much he could take.

“God, I’m right here,” he said, giving Roman and Janus a look.  “Can you two go five minutes without doing gross adorable couple shit?”

Janus stuck his tongue out at Remus and followed it up with a kiss on Roman’s cheek.  Remus blew a raspberry at him and Roman laughed.

They went for a walk outside for a little while since it was nice enough to justify it, and ended up on a bench on the edge of the park to people watch.

“And that one,” Roman said, nodding at a passerby across the street with an almost comically large hat on, “is carrying a live hamster under their hat.”

“Oh of course, only the most logical place to put a live hamster,” Janus said, rolling his eyes.

“Well why else would they have a hat so big?”

“I think it’s a bowling ball,” Remus said.

Roman laughed.  “What?”

“Well the hat is definitely big enough.”

“It kind of is,” Roman said through more laughter.

“Well what does that make of the hamster then?” Janus asked, leaning back on the bench.

“Obviously it’s one of the pins, Janus, come on,” Remus said, leaning back so he could grin at him.

Janus smirked back at him in a way that was clearly amused, and Remus felt the happy little trill that came whenever people found him funny.  It didn’t really happen often.  His sense of humor was too out there for most people to enjoy.

“They,” Roman said, drawing Remus out of large thoughts while pointing discreetly towards a person in a large fluffy dress across the street.  “Are clearly coming back from a royal ball.”

“I disagree,” Janus said, leaning back on the bench.  “They’re an assassin sneaking in to kill the royals.  Why else would that dress clearly not suit them at all?”

“Janus,” Roman said, crossing his arms and giving Janus a look.  “That’s rude.”

“Oh what, they don’t know me,” Janus said, rolling his eyes and pulling out his phone.  “Why would they care what someone they don’t even know thinks of their fashion choice?”

“It’s just rude, that’s all,” Roman said, glaring away slightly.

Remus looked down and fidgeted with his fingers.  Stop overreacting, you’re being stupid.  Talk about something else.

“Hey,” he said, thankfully drawing both Roman and Janus’ attention.  “I want to walk around the park and find some squirrels to terrorize.  Who’s with me?”

Janus laughed a little.  “You make a strong case,” he said.

“I think I’ll just walk and enjoy the scenery,” Roman said with a roll of his eyes.  “But you two can knock yourselves out.”

Remus let out a slow breath as they all stood and started walking, and Janus and Roman both started smiling and pressing themselves against each other again.

Remus turned his gaze ahead and started looking for squirrels and put the rest of the interaction out of his mind.

The rest of the day would give him nothing to worry about.  Of course not.

…

Roman and Janus continued to politely argue most of the afternoon.  Remus barely even got to chase any squirrels.  They all went home that night utterly squirelless.

He didn’t love how anxious he was about the whole thing either.  It’s not like Janus and Roman hadn’t debated as friends.  There didn’t have to be anything wrong here.

…Except for the fact that when they debated as friends they’d never stopped smiling, and today they had both been tense and the politeness had seemed forced.

What the hell was the difference?  Why did their relationship dynamic have to change just because they were labeling it a different way?  And why couldn’t Remus stop freaking out about it?  It was fine, they were both probably just having a bad day.  Nothing to worry about.

Besides, on the way home they were right back to being sickeningly adorable, so it was fine.

Remus was kind of forced to stick with that image for a while, whether he wanted to or not, because the next couple weeks Janus or Roman both seemed to be incredibly busy, and when they weren’t, they were spending time with each other.  It was ridiculous how alone you could feel when you lived in an apartment with two other people.

On the night Remus had finally had enough, Roman was working late, which seemed like as good a solution as any.  So Remus headed over to Janus’ room and knocked on his door, before shoving it open because who gives a fuck about privacy anyway?

“Hey Janny,” he said as he walked in.  “Whatcha up to?”

Janus turned from his bed where he seemed to be angrily typing on his phone.  “Trying to convince Roman to focus on work and leave me alone for two seconds,” Janus said with a roll of his eyes.

Remus’ chest pinched.

“Hey cool, so you want to go do something?  I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

A mix of relief and intrigue passed across Janus’ face, and he shoved his phone in his pocket.  “Absolutely, yes, please get me out of here.  What do you want to do?”

“What do you want to do?” Remus asked, shoving the slightly nauseated feeling down, down, down.

Janus gave him a mischievous smile.  “When was the last time we went spray painting?”

Remus beamed.

Ten minutes later they were in the car headed towards their usual spot, and Remus was chatting happily about ideas he had that he hadn’t gotten to use yet.

Janus seemed to get lighter the more that they talked, and by the time they got there he was laughing right along with Remus.

Remus had decided eventually to paint two giant middle fingers battling for dominance like light sabers.  Janus had decided to go way less inspired and just paint an abstract picture of a two headed serpent.  Clearly, Remus had more artistic integrity here.

Just as Remus was finishing one of the fingers, however, Janus’ phone went off, and they both jumped at the sound, causing a large stripe of paint to go off course.

Remus looked around to check for anyone else as Janus scrambled to turn his phone on silent.

At least, Remus figured that’s what he was doing, and he turned back to see if he could salvage his painting.  But then a second later, Janus started talking.

“For fucks sake Roman, what do you want?”

Remus turned to him in surprise and slight offense.  They were kind of in the middle of something, weren’t they?

“I went out with Remus,” Janus snapped.  “Do you have to know where I am every second of the day?”

There was a pause, where Remus tried to stare at Janus meaningfully.

“You’re supposed to be working anyway!” Janus said.  He dropped the spray paint into the bag they’d brought and stormed away, leaving Remus standing there.

“…Am I supposed to be continuing then?” Remus asked the empty air, predictably getting no response.

“Well fuck you too.”

He turned back to his painting and started angrily salvaging the parts of it he could.  By the time Janus came back, angrily stomping over with his phone still clutched in his hand, Remus was almost done.

“Oh, so have you decided to spend time with me now?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Not if Roman has his way,” Janus said, rolling his eyes and apparently mistaking Remus’ tone for an invitation to shit on his brother.

Remus huffed and turned and finished with the last part of his painting.  “I’m done,” he said.  “Meet you in the car.  Don’t get arrested.”

He stormed off before Janus could reply.

…

The situation did not improve.  Roman and Janus stayed consistently busy, and when they weren’t, they were either flirting in the kitchen or off somewhere doing who knows what.  And Remus tried to take solace in the fact that they were doing cutesy couple things all the time, but he was starting to feel pretty lonely.  And it kind of really sucked.

So you couldn’t really blame him for getting a little excited when someone knocked on his door for a change.  Maybe the leaping out of bed and scrambling over was a bit much, though.

Roman confirmed that by blinking at him when Remus yanked the door open.

“Uh, hi,” he said.  “You okay?”

“Oh yeah, I’m cool, I’m chill, just staying here, being totally casual,” Remus said, leaning against the doorframe.  “What totally cool casual things are going on with you?  Do you want to do something?  Do you want to talk?  I’m very down to do something or talk!”

“I guess I sort of want to talk?” Roman said, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Look, can I just, can I vent for a second?”

He walked past Remus before he could reply, and paced to the other side of the room, which is probably why he didn’t notice Remus deflate heavily.

“Oh.  Okay,” he said, walking much more slowly back to his bed as Roman spun around and continued to pace.

“I just can’t deal with Janus sometimes,” Roman groaned, looking up at the ceiling.  “Like, I know he gets jealous easily, but I should be allowed to hang out with work friends without him getting all up in my case about it!  Like seriously, I thought he didn’t want me to call him while I’m at work!”

“Mm-hmm,” Remus muttered, resting his head in his hands.

“And then he starts going off about Virgil, and like, he’s met Virgil!  He knows I don’t have feelings for him!  Like for fucks sake!”

“Yeah,” Remus said.  He grabbed his phone from where he’d set it down on his bed and started scrolling through notifications.

“I don’t know, maybe I’m overreacting.  I just wish he could give me some space to breathe sometimes.  Know what I mean?”

“No,” Remus said candidly, glancing up at Roman.  “I feel like I have plenty of space to breathe right now.”

“Oh, great,” Roman huffed, crossing his arms.  “So he’s just like that with me, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Remus sighed, looking down again.

Roman sighed too.  “I don’t know.  Maybe I should just talk to him about it.  Like, that’ll probably help, right?”

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, I think it probably will,” Roman said with a nod to himself.  “I’m sure he just doesn’t realize how much this is bugging me.  Thanks, Remus.  I’m gonna go talk to him right now.”

He walked out of the room, leaving Remus sitting there.

Remus laughed a little, flipped off the empty air where Roman had been standing, and flopped back on his bed.

He at least wasn’t as surprised or hopeful when Janus showed up later that day to do the same thing.

“Roman said he talked to you,” Janus said the second Remus opened the door, arms already crossed.

Remus sighed and leaned his head against the doorframe.  “Yeah, I guess.  I’m sorry.  Or you’re welcome.  Which one do you want to hear?”

“I assume he didn’t tell you that he and the Virgil person that I’m apparently supposed to be fine with both flirt all the time right in front of me?” Janus said, walking past Remus.

Remus sighed again and shut the door after him.  “No.”

“I’ve told him it bothers me, and he keeps doing it!” Janus snapped, whirling to face him.  “This is his fault!  We’ve made a commitment now, and he’s acting like that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Have you tried talking about it?”

“Yes,” Janus snapped, turning to glare at him.  “I said I told him it was bothering me!”

“Have you tried explaining why?”

Janus paused.  “Well… no.  I guess technically I just said it was bothering me.  But shouldn’t that be enough for him to at least ask me why if nothing else?”

“I don’t know.  But it sounds like he didn’t.  So maybe try explaining,” Remus said, walking over to his bed and sitting down again.

Janus scoffed.  “I shouldn’t have to do that.  He should know me well enough by now.”

“That’s not how people work—”

“Fine.  I will be the bigger person,” Janus said, drawing himself up and stalking towards the door.  “Thank you, I suppose.  You could try getting the full story next time.”

He walked out before Remus could reply.

Remus turned, buried his head in his pillow, and screamed.

That argument apparently didn’t end there however, because that night Remus was kept up by the sound of them arguing.

“I just don’t see why you think it’s so wrong that I want to spend some time with friends!” Roman yelled, loud enough that Remus heard it clearly from down the hallway in his bedroom.

“There isn’t anything wrong with you wanting to spend time with friends!  I take a bit of an issue when you start flirting with them!”

“We flirted when we were friends, Janus!  It doesn’t mean anything!”

“Don’t I kind of get a say in that?”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut.  “Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

This is what he gets for trying to lie to himself about how this would go.

…

So he has to do something, right?  That’s what has to happen next?  He can’t just let this go on.  For his own sake as much as theirs, honestly.  That didn’t mean he knew what he should do, but he had to try something, at least.

He figured he’d start with Roman, and so he knocked on his door on a night he knew Janus was working, and found Roman on his bed watching a TV show on his laptop.

“Roman?” he asked as he pushed the door open.  “Can we talk?”

Roman paused the show and turned to face him.  “Can it wait?  I’m pretty tired.”

Remus shoved down a spike of anger and took a deep breath.  “I’d rather we talk now.”

Roman gave a long sigh but shut his laptop.  “Alright.  What’s going on?”

Remus walked forward and sat down on the bed, taking a minute to try and figure out how to word this.

Roman clearly noticed, because he raised an eyebrow and sat up slightly.  “Is there something you need to tell me, Remus?”

“How are you and Janus doing?” Remus asked hesitantly.

Roman narrowed his eyes slightly.  “Fine.  Is that all?  I’m going to go back to my show now.”

“Roman,” Remus groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

“You live in the same apartment as us, do you not know how we’re doing?” Roman asked.

Remus bit his lip against a scream and squeezed his fingernails against the palm of his hand.  “Well, neither of you have really talked to me recently, Roman,” he said.

“Sorry, we’ve been busy,” Roman said, crossing his arms.

Remus took a deep breath.  “Busy staying up half the night fighting?”

“Excuse me?  What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” Remus said, holding up his hands.  “I’m just pointing out something I’ve noticed.”

“What Janus and I disagree on isn’t any of your business.”

Remus took another deep breath.  “You yell so loud it keeps me up, Roman.”

“Put a pillow over your ear,” Roman snapped, leaning forward.  “And get out of my room.  My relationship is my business.”

“You’re kind of making it my business,” Remus said through gritted teeth.

“Really?  Because you’re the one who came in here and tried to butt your way into it,” Roman said, glaring at Remus.  “And I’m the one telling you to back off.”

“Roman.  For fucks sake.”

Roman narrowed his eyes dangerously, to the point where Remus realized this probably wasn’t going to work.

“Get. The fuck. Out. Remus.”

Remus looked at him for a minute longer, but Roman didn’t back down, so finally Remus turned and left.

Maybe he’d have better luck with Janus.

He couldn’t exactly plan on getting ahold of him alone soon, however, and until then, Remus wasn’t exactly surprised to be kept up by more yelling.

“Oh, so you just think I’m a shitty person?”

“What— did I say that?  I missed the part where I said that!”

“Well you never pay attention anyway it’s not like that’s a surprise!”

Remus shoved the pillow further over his head.  Maybe if he was lucky it would suffocate him and then he could finally get some fucking sleep.

“You could try being a little more supportive, you know!”

“More supportive?  If anything I give you too much support!  It’s not like your ego could get any bigger!”

“I cannot believe you, I— argh!”

Or he could just bang his head into the wall until he gave himself a concussion and fell unconscious.

Remus pulled the blanket up and over the pillow, which at least muffled the yelling enough that he could hear himself think.  That was a start, maybe.

It was still enough that Remus decided he couldn’t any longer, and the next morning, when he got home from his classes, he waited in the kitchen until Janus finally showed up.

In retrospect, he should have waited.  He was exhausted, and irritated, and definitely not in the place to have an incredibly delicate conversation that hadn’t even worked with Roman, much less Janus.  He was terrible at incredibly delicate conversations on a good day, and this was not that.

But he also couldn’t stomach the thought of listening to Roman and Janus fight for another night, so instead of anything remotely smart, he turned to Janus the second he walked in and opened with “Hey stop fucking fighting.”

Janus started, and turned to Remus, raising an eyebrow.  “Excuse me?”

“I can’t sleep,” Remus said.  “You yell too loud.  And I can’t imagine you’re getting much sleep either, which can’t be helping in the first place.  Stop fighting.  It’s not helpful.”

Janus stared at him for a second, then narrowed his eyes, seeming offended and irritated, which is why Remus shouldn’t have had this conversation right now.

He just didn’t know when else to have it.

“That,” Janus said coldly.  “Is completely over the line, Remus.  It’s not your place to get involved, and even setting that aside, you could have done it in a different way—”

“How?” Remus begged.  “We never talk.  I haven’t seen either of you in ages.  You’re always busy, or with each other, or fighting so loud it keeps me awake at night.  I’m exhausted, and I’m worried, and I’m lonely, Janus!”

Janus crosses his arms, glaring at Remus.  “Well, maybe you should have stopped to consider that you’re the problem,” he said.  “Couples argue sometimes, Remus.  It doesn’t make it any of your business.”

He turned to walk out of the room.

“I haven’t slept well in a week,” Remus said weakly.

Janus didn’t say anything as he left.

Remus went out that evening and bought some earplugs.

…

It was a couple days later when Roman and Janus approached him together.  Remus was too done to have any sort of expectations, but they both looked a little sheepish and hesitant as they knocked and opened his door, which was new.

“Hey Remus,” Roman said.  “Can we talk?”

Remus set his phone down and looked up.  Might as well get it over with.  “What?”

“We, uh,” Roman said, fidgeting with his hands.  “So we talked a little bit, and uh, we kind of realized you were right.”

Remus’ eyes widened, and he sat up.  “Wait, seriously?”

“We didn’t exactly realize how long it’s been since we’ve spent time together,” Janus said, looking to the side and seeming profoundly uncomfortable.  “And that…”  He trailed off.

“We’ve kind of been ignoring you,” Roman continued, rubbing the back of his neck.  “So we wanted to say sorry.”

Remus stared for a minute, not really processing what he was hearing.  “You… wanted to say sorry?”

Roman gave him a weak smile, and behind him, Janus held up a bottle of soda.  “Apologies and Friday night movie night?” he asked.

Remus stared for another minute, and then started to grin.  “I get to pick the movie!”

“Oh no,” Roman muttered, but he didn’t object.

Remus cackled.  “Meet you in the living room in ten, and y’all better have popcorn!”

“Okay, well if I knew you’d be making demands,” Janus said, but he didn’t object either.

Remus snatched up his phone and did a happy dance to the living room.  He put on some screaming loud music to dance the excitement out too, because he definitely had not been expecting this.

When the song ended, however, Remus was presented with clear and definitive evidence that he was a moron for getting his hopes up.

“See, I told you that you were causing problems,” Janus said from the kitchen, just loud enough that Remus heard it.

Remus sat up straighter but didn’t turn around.

“I cannot believe you are trying to pin this all on me right now,” Roman hissed, still loud enough for Remus to hear.  “Just because Remus approached you— which he approached me first by the way—”

“And clearly you did such an excellent job with that,” Janus said, in the verbal tone of rolling his eyes.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that clearly you don’t know how to have actual relationships with people!  When was the last time you talked to Remus?”

“When was the last time you talked to Remus?”

Remus leaned forward and buried his head in his hands.  No, no, no.

He’s so fucking stupid.

“Not as long ago as you!  But why should I be surprised, with the way you mess everything up all the time!”

“Hey!”

Roman sounded hurt by that.  Remus should do something.

“Well I’m not the one who thinks it’s fun to try and manipulate people!”

“You are such a—”

Remus stood up, walking past the kitchen and into the entryway, grabbing his jacket and keys.

He was going to need something to help him sleep tonight.

…

“Give me five shots of the strongest shit you’ve got,” Remus said, sitting down at the bar and resting his chin on his hands.

“Yowza, you doing okay buddy?”

“Do I look like I’m doing okay?  Give me five shots of the strongest shit you’ve got.”

There wasn’t any reply, and a couple minutes later Remus got five shots pushed towards him.  He downed them one after the other, and tapped the counter, putting one of the shot glasses upright.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for the world to start going numb at the edges, even if Remus didn’t feel better.  Why the fuck didn’t he feel better, can he not have this one thing?

It was way too soon when the bartender called closing, however, even if Remus didn’t move.  He waited until everyone else had filed out while rolling the empty shot glass on the table in front of him around on its edge and listening to the pretty sound it made.

“Hey, bud, I’m gonna call you a cab, okay?” came the bartender’s voice.  “Do you have an address I should give them?”

Remus turned to look at the bartender.  He kept his gaze for a couple seconds, then turned and dropped his head in his arms and burst into tears.

He vaguely heard the bartender mutter, “Oh boy,” but he didn’t pay it much mind, choosing instead to sit there and cry, because that seemed like the better option right now.  That was going to solve all of his problems, right?

He’d tried everything else.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when he finally pulls his head up, but now he has a headache on top of being drunk and sad, which is just an amazing combination.

For some reason, however, when he does, the bartender is still standing next to him.

“Hey,” he said, giving a small smile.  “You feeling any better?”

Remus turned to stare at him.  “The fuck are y’still doin’ here?” he slurred.

The person sighed.  “Well, you’re part of my job right now bud.  I’ve got to make sure you get home safe.”

“Oh.  S’rry.”

“Don’t be.  I’m getting paid overtime.”

“Don’t wanna go home,” Remus said, shaking his head as tears welled in his eyes again.  “I don’t wanna, they won’t— they won’t stop fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?”

“Knew this was a terrible idea,” Remus said, dropping his head onto his hand.  “Knew it but I didn’t say anything because ‘m an idiot, ‘m an idiot who let them do it when I shouldn’t’ve.”

“Mm,” the bartender said, probably not having any idea what the fuck Remus was talking about.

A second later, a door opened in the background, and a more familiar voice called, “Alright Pat, I got your text, who do you need help kicking out?”

Remus dragged his head up and looked over towards the door to see Virgil standing there.  And though they’d only met a couple times when Remus had come to annoy Roman at work, Virgil seemed to recognize him too.

“Woah, dude,” he said, moving forward.  “You okay?  Remus, right?”

“You know him?” the bartender asked, sounding surprised.

“Sorta.  He’s Roman’s brother.”

“Ah,” the bartender said.  “He keeps saying he doesn’t want to go home, and something about how ‘they’ won’t stop fighting.”

Virgil absorbed this for a second, then sighed.  “Fuck,” he mumbled.  “I knew something felt off.”

He walked forward and took a seat on the other side of Remus, and Remus looked over at him.

“Hi,” Virgil said.  “Are you gonna murder me in my sleep?”

“There’s not a lot of good rhymes for murder,” Remus said.

“Cool.  You can crash with me tonight, then.”

Tears welled in Remus’ eyes again, and he reached out towards Virgil.  “Y’re so nice,” he cried.

“Uh-huh, yeah, I’m an angel,” Virgil said, leaning away.  “If you puke in my car I’m kicking you out though.”

“I’ll clock out and meet you there,” the bartender said.  “I think you might need me for the emotions talk tomorrow.”

“I definitely will, and you’re a lifesaver, Pat,” Virgil said, reaching forward and grabbing Remus underneath the armpit.

Remus half walked, half was-dragged to the car, and he fell asleep before Virgil even started it.

…

Waking up with a massive hangover in a place you’re not familiar with wasn’t exactly on Remus’ top ten favorite things to do.

It’s not that he was completely unfamiliar with it, it had happened before.  It still wasn’t his favorite.

If the “waking up in a room you don’t recognize” part hadn’t clued him in, however, the silence would have.  There wasn’t any screaming.  Remus could breathe.

…He could go back to sleep.

And that’s what he did.

He woke up again a little later to someone shaking his shoulder.

“No,” he groaned, pulling the blankets over his head.

“Sorry kiddo, you need to drink this.  It’ll help you feel better.”

“Just leave me here to sleep and then die,” Remus moaned.

“I don’t think I’ll be doing either of those things.  I do think I’m owed a bit of a thank you though.”

“Fuck you.  Why am I thanking you?”

Remus pulled the blanket down as he asked, and is met with a face he vaguely remembers handing him alcohol last night.

“Fuck.”

“Language.”

“I’m sorry,” Remus said, pushing himself upwards and dropping his head into his hands.  “God, I made you—”

“You did not make me do anything,” the bartender corrected.  “I would not have brought you here if I was not sure it was safe for all of us.  But Virgil says he trusts you, at least enough not to do anything.  And I trust Virgil.”

“Oh fuck, no, I’m not a stalker or murderer or anything,” Remus said.  “I’m just garbage.  Can you turn down the sun?”

“Drink this,” the bartender said, holding out a glass of water to Remus.

Remus took it and downed it in one go, then laid back down in bed and pulled the covers over his head again.

“I’m gonna bring you some greasy food in a bit,” the bartender said.

“Sorry,” Remus said again.

“It’s okay, kiddo.”

“Wha’s your name?”

“I’m Patton.  Virgil said your name is Remus?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay then, Remus, we can talk later.  For now you should get some sleep, and I’ll bring you food in a bit.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you?”

Remus is quiet for a minute.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kiddo.”

…

Remus woke up a couple hours later, ate a good hamburger and fries, and felt a little better after that.

Unfortunately, Patton and Virgil seemed to consider it important to have this conversation right now, instead of tomorrow or perhaps never.

So, they dragged Remus out into the living and sat him down on a chair adjacent to a couch they both sat on.

Remus attempted to admire the very emo decor that seemed very Virgil, with spiders and black curtains and Nightmare Before Christmas posters.  But it didn’t seem either of them were going to let him.

“Okay,” Virgil said, folding his hands together.  “So.  We should probably talk about some stuff?”

Remus huffed and flopped back in the chair.  “It’s… fine,” he grumbled.  “I was drunk, I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“No, but you were very upset,” Patton said, raising an eyebrow.  “In my experience, being drunk tends to make you more likely to say what’s on your mind than entirely make things up.”

“No, I just— I was being stupid,” Remus muttered.  “It’s my own problem.  Or it’s not, but I don’t— I can handle it.  Thanks for the ride and the food, but I can pay you back, I should… I should go home now.”

The thought kind of made him sick, and he was pretty sure both Patton and Virgil could tell.

“Dude.” Virgil sat forward, crossing his arms.  “If you were talking about Roman and Janus, you’re not the only one worried about them.”

Remus looked hesitantly over at Virgil.

“Something’s felt off to me from the moment I heard they were dating,” Virgil said.  “And Roman hasn’t exactly seemed happy at work lately.  In ways that I can’t just attribute the fucking nightmares of customers we have to deal with.”

Remus looked away.

“So I’m right, then?  They’re not okay?”

“They— fuck.” Remus buried his head in his hands.  “I knew they were bad for each other from the moment they started dating,” he mumbled.  He dragged his hands through his hair, and flopped back against the couch.  “But I didn’t say anything.  Because I was an idiot.  And now they’re just… god, it’s all my fault.”

“Uh, what?” Virgil asked, sounding a little baffled.  “No.  It isn’t.  It’s not your job to fix other people’s relationships.”

“But— but they fight all the time,” Remus said.  “They yell at each other and I can’t fall asleep and they’re miserable.  And I should have said something from the start.”

“Maybe,” Patton said, leaning forward.  “But you can’t be sure that would have helped, kiddo.  Or that they would have listened.  So don’t worry about what you should have done.  Let’s just take things from where they are now.”

Remus didn’t say anything for a moment.  Then something Patton said caught in his mind and he looked up.  “What do you mean let’s?”

“Dude,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.  “We’re not gonna let you deal with this on your own.”

“But— you don’t even know me.”

“Roman and I are friends,” Virgil said, waving his hand dismissively.  “That makes us, like, friends in law.”

Remus couldn’t help the startled laugh that came out of his mouth.

“It sounds like you need some help, kiddo,” Patton said.  “And we’re not going to send you back home without it.”

Remus blinked at them for a minute, not sure what to say.  “But you— I—”

Patton smiled.  “Thank you?”

Remus blinked at him.  Looked down.  Looked up again.  “Thank you,” he said finally.

“You’re welcome,” Patton said.  “So, for starters, how about you tell us what you’ve tried?”

Remus ended up giving them a rundown of Roman and Janus’ relationship, or at least the parts of it he’d seen.  The lessening of the time spent together and the constant fighting and the general misery of the whole situation.  He explained the times he’d tried to talk to them and how poorly it had gone.  And the whole time, Patton and Virgil listened.  Virgil looked concerned, but Remus couldn’t read Patton’s face at all.

Finally, when he finished, Patton leaned back and crossed his arms.  “Okay,” he said.  “I don’t think you’re going to like what I have to say.”

“What?” Remus asked warily.

“You’re going to have to let them burn themselves out.”

Remus instantly shook his head desperately.  “I don’t want to—”

“I know,” Patton said gently.  “But it sounds like you’ve tried talking with them and pointing out how unhealthy things are and it hasn’t worked.  At a certain point, there isn’t anything else you can do than just let them sort it out themselves.”

“But they aren’t.”

Patton gave Remus a hesitant look.  “It doesn’t sound like there’s anything you can do about that.”

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to help them,” Virgil said quietly.

Remus shook his head.  “Roman’s my brother, and Janus is my best friend.”

Patton nodded, giving him a sympathetic smile.  “I know, kiddo.”

Remus didn’t say anything, just wrapped his arms around himself.

“Hey,” Virgil said.  “If you want, I have an idea that can help.  All of you, I think.”

Remus glanced up at him.  “Yeah?”

“You can stay here with me if you want,” Virgil said.  “At least as long as you promise not to throw any parties.  It’ll give you a chance to breathe, and Roman and Janus might start to realize something’s wrong if they realize they drove you out of the apartment.”

“Who knows how long that’ll take,” Remus muttered.  He glanced up at Virgil.  “But… okay.  Thanks.  I’ll pay you back.”

“Eh, you cover food and I’ll call us even,” Virgil said with a dismissive wave.

Remus nodded.  “Okay, deal.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Patton said, standing to signify the conversation was moving on.  “Now I don’t know about you, but this sounds like an ice cream and movie night situation to me.  Do you have a favorite movie, Remus?”

“Shrek,” Remus said instantly.

“Oh god,” Virgil groaned.  “I am so going to regret this.”

…

Living with Virgil makes Remus remember what it’s like to enjoy the company of the people you live with.

They end up clicking really well.  Remus vibed with spook, so his decorating style fit in with Virgil’s almost perfectly.  They both loved horror movies.  And while Virgil had betrayed Dreamworks to Disney like his brother, Remus could forgive him because they both shared an adoration for The Nightmare Before Christmas.  Patton came around often too, as he and Virgil were apparently much closer than Remus realized.  And while Remus didn’t click with Patton nearly as well as Virgil, they shared an affinity for puns and, shockingly, fire (albeit for very different reasons, Patton liked s’mores and Remus liked arson).

He didn’t stop worrying about Janus and Roman, but things felt lighter and more manageable.  He didn’t get any questions about where he was, though, which… hurt.  But it wasn’t anything he hadn’t expected.

It apparently pissed Patton the fuck off, though.

“You’re their friend!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up and dropping them back down on the kitchen table.  “I understand they’re not in a great place, but they should notice that you haven’t been around in a week and a half!  I’ve dealt with blackout drunk people with more awareness!”

Remus snorted.  “I’m dying to know how true that statement actually is,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“It’s not completely untrue,” Patton muttered, rolling his eyes.

“I’m more worried about how they’re doing,” Remus admitted.  “They’ve got to be… not good, if they’re this unaware of what’s going on.”

“Roman never seems good at work,” Virgil muttered, from where he was stirring the soup on the stove.  “Do you want me to ask about you, or something?”

Remus considered the idea for a minute.  “No,” he said eventually.  “I… I’d rather just hang out with you guys.  I don’t want to put in the effort they’re not giving back anymore.”

Virgil turned and gave him a small smile that meant he thought that was a good choice.  “Okay,” he said.

And so life continued.  Finals approached.  All three of them got ready to fail most of them, then studied their asses off and passed with decent results.  In the aftermath, Remus learned that Patton and Virgil apparently did not go anywhere for the holidays, for different reasons.  Virgil’s family were transphobic assholes, and Patton’s lived in the same city, so they both usually ended up at Patton’s parents for Christmas.  According to Patton, they were very cool with Remus coming along this year.

Remus didn’t want to have to go home and deal with Roman and Janus.  He’d called his own parents and explained he wasn’t coming home, and they never particularly wanted to see Remus anyway, so they didn’t care.  Roman used to get pissed at them for that attitude.  It hurt more than Remus wanted to admit that he wasn’t there to be angry this time.

Patton’s family was spectacular.  His parents greeted Patton and Virgil with smiles and squeezing hugs that both of them clearly appreciated.  They then turned to Remus and asked if he would be comfortable with a hug, or if he would prefer something else.

Remus wanted a hug after the nightmare of this semester, so he opened his arms, and as expected, Patton’s parents were amazing at hugs.

And that pretty much set the vibe for most of the break.  Remus got to feel wanted at Christmastime for the first time in who knows how long.  Patton, Virgil, and Patton’s parents were all apparently amazing at making people feel included.  Patton and his parents all blamed it on their parents being good at it, and Virgil blamed it on knowing the feeling of not being wanted himself, but that didn’t mean Remus appreciated it any less.

He eventually settled into the idea of staying here for the whole break.  He got all the way to Christmas Eve, when everyone else had rushed out to do last minute shopping and Remus was staying behind to make dinner for when they got back.  But just as he was putting the cookies in the oven and looking over Patton’s very specific instructions, his phone went off.

Remus grabbed it and answered without looking at who was calling.  “Yes, I made sure to add the extra cinnamon, for pete’s sake Pat.”

“…Re?”

Remus nearly dropped the phone.  “Roman?”

“Re, can you—” a sob came from the other side of the phone.  “Janus— Janus isn’t moving—”

Remus’ heart jumped to his throat.  “What?  What do you mean Janus isn’t— where the fuck are you?”

“I— I don’t know, the— I think we hit someone, I—”

“Oh my god, hang up and call 911 you idiot!”

“I— okay, okay, I—”

The line cut out and Remus pulled the phone away from his ear, his hand shaking.

He reached for the oven and turned it off, and ran for the living room, grabbed his coat and his car keys, though he didn’t exactly know where to go.

He ended up sitting in his car for a good fifteen minutes and trying to breathe before he got another call from Roman.

“Where are you?” Remus asked, shoving the phone up to his ear.

“In an ambulance, they— they’re taking us to the hospital,” Roman said, an obvious shake still in his voice.  “Re, Janus— Janus won’t wake up.  He won’t wake up, Re, he won’t—”

“Breathe you moron,” Remus snapped, mostly to cover for his own terror.  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.  Are you hurt?”

“I— I’m okay I— oh god—”

“Breathe, Roman.  In and out through your nose.  Is there someone there to help you?”

“They’re helping Janus,” Roman said weakly.  “Re, we— we were fighting and— and neither of us were looking at the road, I— this is all my fault, I—”

“Shut up and breathe,” Remus snapped.  “I’ll be there soon.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Roman?”

“Someone’s here,” Roman said shakily.  “I— I’ll see you—”  The line cuts out again.

Remus started to reach for the shift to put the car in drive, but as soon as he realized his hand was shaking too badly to drive, he switched gears and scrambled for his phone instead, then called Patton.

He wasn’t sure what exactly he was planning on happening, but the second Patton said, “What’s up kiddo?” he burst into tears.

“Remus?  Remus what’s wrong?” Patton asked, sounding deeply concerned.

“Janus—” he managed.  “Janus is hurt, and Roman— I have to go to the hospital, Pat, I—”

“Remus, you need to breathe,” Patton said, his voice lower and more gentle.  “I’m coming back there right now, okay, I’ll drive you.”

“Patton, he— Roman said Janus wasn’t waking up,” Remus choked.

“Okay, don’t think about that.  Just breathe.  In and out, okay?  I’ll be there soon.”

“I— I’m sorry I— you shouldn’t have to deal with me right now—”

“Hey, none of that, kiddo.  You’re my friend, and you’re scared, and this is what you do for friends who need it.  Just keep breathing.  We’re headed out to the car now.”

“Fuck, it’s Christmas Eve,” Remus muttered.  “It’s Christmas Eve and you were shopping and I—”

“Remus.  Listen to me.  There is nowhere we would be other than coming there to help you, do you understand?”

Remus took a shaky breath.  “Okay,” he whispered.

“Okay,” Patton said gently.  “We’ll be there soon, kiddo.”

They weren’t lying, and Remus suspected Patton’s mother was speeding to get back here, because it took less time than it should have.

Remus was given the front seat of the minivan so he could jump out and run inside when he got to the hospital, and then they all pulled off again, barely remembering to lock Remus’ car.

Remus very much did run out as soon as they got there, and into the main lobby, not bothering to check if anyone was behind him (he was pretty sure they’d forgive his rudeness).

He ran straight to the man at the front desk, who apparently couldn’t tell him anything about Janus since they weren’t related, but his boyfriend Roman should know, and Remus got to hear about him due to brother status.

The man said that Roman was sitting on a bed in the emergency room, since he wasn’t badly hurt enough to need his own room, and was mostly just in shock.  So Remus told him there’d be people coming after him who were okay to join, then followed the signs directing him to the emergency room.

Sure enough, there was Roman, sitting on the side of a bed with a bandage on his forehead and staring at the ground, looking faint.

Now that he was actually here, some of the terror was fading a bit, and anger was taking its place.

Remus came to a stop right in front of Roman.  “I was making cookies,” he said through gritted teeth.

Roman looked up at him, still seeming too faint to be surprised.  “What?”

“I was making,” Remus growled.  “Christmas Eve cookies.  I was going to eat them, they were going to be delicious, and now there is a bowl of batter sitting on the counter that was chilled last night and was supposed to go right into the fucking oven.”

Roman blinked at him.  “What?”

Remus buried his head in his hands and tried very hard not to scream through gritted teeth.  “You fuckers were driving?  I’m going to kill you both.”

“Remus!”

Remus spun around just in time for Patton to collide into him and pull him up into a bone-crushing hug that they’d been too much of a rush in before for him to give.

Remus buried his head in Patton’s shoulder and let out a shaky breath.  A second later Virgil joined from the other side, and all three of them stood there for a minute and breathed.

“It’s okay,” Patton whispered.  “It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay.”

Remus pulled back first a couple seconds later with a murmur of thanks, in time to see Patton’s parents approaching, looking equally frazzled.  He gave them both a grateful smile as they approached.

Finally, Remus turned back around to look at Roman, who was staring up at the scene in dazed confusion.

“What…” he said weakly, which unfortunately for him caught Virgil’s attention.

“You,” Virgil said with a glare at him.  “You little shit.  Are you fucking kidding me?  What were you thinking?”

Roman leaned back, seeming appropriately nervous.  “What?”

“Virgil, it’s okay, I’ll handle this,” Patton said, putting a hand on his shoulder.  He walked up to Roman and leaned right in his face.

“What were you thinking?  Do you know what you and Janus have put your brother through?  Do you have any idea what he’s been dealing with?  Do you know how worried he’s been?  When was the last time you looked up from your own life long enough to notice he wasn’t there?  Or are you just so incapable of pulling your head out of your own B-hole that you didn’t even notice he hasn’t been around in months?  What do you have to say for yourself—”

“Okay,” Patton’s father said, coming up from behind and pulling Patton back from Roman.  “You are yelling quite a bit at someone who has a head trauma.”

“A minor head trauma,” Virgil muttered angrily.

“It’s okay,” Remus said, despite how little he wanted to.  “Just… it’s fine.  We’re gonna be here a while, let’s just try not to scream at each other.”

Virgil and Patton looked just as unhappy as he felt saying it, but after a minute they nodded, and they all shifted to stand as comfortably as they could around Roman’s bed.

Roman himself still looked bewildered by everything going on, looking between Remus and Patton and Virgil and Patton’s parents like he had just a bit too much of a concussion to put the pieces together.

Remus didn’t really have the patience to wait for his head to clear.

“What’s happening with Janus,” he said, crossing his arms and looking down at Roman.

Roman glanced up at him and blinked a couple times, then looked down at his hands, which were way too still for someone who fidgeted as much as he did.  “Um,” he said.  “He’s in surgery.  They said he’s probably— probably not gonna die but they can’t be s-sure—” Roman pressed a hand to his mouth and muffled a sob that Remus decidedly did not acknowledge.

“When will they know for sure,” Remus said.

“C-couple hours,” Roman whispered.  “He probably won’t be out of surgery by then, but they’ll know.”

“Okay,” Remus said.  His voice sounded hollow.

After a second Patton walked over and stood in front of him.  “If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna hug you again,” he said.

Remus nodded, because there was nothing he wanted right now more than to have the life squeezed out of him.  If he wasn’t pissed at Roman into next Christmas, he might have wanted him to lay on top of him.  He’d used to be really good at that.  But for now, Patton squeezed him as tightly as he knew Remus liked, and Remus buried his head in Patton’s shoulder and breathed.

Eventually, Patton and Virgil took Remus over to the other side of the emergency room, and Patton’s parents stayed with Roman like the adults who had the emotional bandwidth to deal with Roman right now.  If they hadn’t been waiting to hear about Janus, Remus might have taken Virgil and Patton up on their offer to go get Starbucks.

Well.  If they hadn’t been waiting to hear about Janus and it wouldn’t have meant leaving Patton’s parents completely alone with Roman.

Finally, a doctor came into the room and headed over for Roman, and Remus leaped up immediately to go join, followed closely by Patton and Virgil.

Once everyone was there, the doctor spoke.

“He’s going to be recovering for a while,” she said.  “But he’ll live.”

Remus’ breath rushed out of his lungs and he pressed his head into his hands.  Virgil and Patton both wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“They’ll be done with the surgery in another couple of hours,” the doctor said.  “And he’ll probably be asleep for a while after that.  Unfortunately we can’t make you very comfortable here.  If you’d like, we can contact you when he wakes up.”

No one said anything for a minute, so eventually Patton’s mother stepped forward.

“That will be fine,” she said, as she walked them both a little ways away from Roman.  “Who do we leave our number with?”

While the two of them worked that out, Remus turned to look back at Roman, who was staring after them.

“Next time,” Remus said, drawing Roman’s attention.  “Can you just have a one night stand so we can all go back to our perfectly good friendship?”

Roman let out a shaky breath.  And then another one, and another.  Remus saw the breakdown coming a second before Roman did.  He sighed to move forward and sit on the bed as Roman leaned over his knees and started to sob, choking out apologies in between winces of pain.

Remus looked over at him for a couple of seconds and then patted him a couple times on the back, which turned into his best attempt at a comforting rub when Roman didn’t stop sobbing.  Eventually he turned and pressed his head against Remus’ stomach, and Remus wrapped his arms around him as best he could from the awkward position.

Patton moved after a second and leaned against Remus from the other side, and Virgil sat on Patton’s other side and leaned around to rub Remus’ back.  Remus was pretty sure he’d never been more grateful for two people in his life.

After a while, Roman’s sobs quieted, and he pulled back, seeming to realize he didn’t really deserve to ask Remus for comfort.  Remus rolled his eyes, let out a sigh, and pulled Roman back to his side anyway.

After a minute, Patton’s mother came back over.  “Okay,” she said.  “We can take you all back home with us for now.  It’ll be a little crowded with Roman there too, but we’ve got an air mattress we can pull out of the basement.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Remus said instantly.  “I’ll take Roman back to the old apartment.  You should just enjoy your Christmas.”

“Remus,” Patton’s father said, raising an eyebrow.  “I’m amazed you think we could enjoy this Christmas without you there.”

Remus blinked.  “But—”

“You’re family, mister,” Patton said, leaning his head against Remus.’  “Like we wouldn’t be worried out of our minds if you weren’t there for us to check on.”

Remus looked over at Patton and blinked a couple more times.  Patton pulled him into another hug, and Remus let out a shaky breath.

“Okay,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter,” Roman said, shifting away from Remus.  “I’m staying here.”

Remus turned and gave him a look.  “I thought they were going to discharge you.”

Roman nodded.  “They were.  I’m waiting for Janus to wake up.”

“That’s not a good idea if you’ve had a head injury,” Patton’s mother said, stepping forward.  “Just because they’re discharging you doesn’t mean you won’t need to be looked after for a time.”

Roman shook his head, then winced at the movement, another demonstration of why he shouldn’t be staying here alone.

“No, I need to wait for Janus,” he said anyway.  “It’s not fair that I’m going to be comfortable in a house while he’s here.”

“Not fair?” Remus asked, raising an eyebrow.

Roman looked down at his hands.  “Janus was driving,” he said quietly.  “And the car swerved so the passenger side was going to be hit, but then Janus jerked the car around.”

Remus whacked Roman’s arm as hard as he dared.  “Idiot.  That’s not your fault.”

“He almost died!” Roman said, glaring upwards.

“But he didn’t.  Do you think staying here and making things harder on yourself is going to help him?  Do you think that’s not exactly what he’d say to you if he was awake and talking?”

Roman looked away.

“Come on,” Remus said.  “You have to help me make a new batch of cookies.”

Roman wiped his eyes.  “Okay,” he said, his voice cracking horribly on the word.

So everyone eventually made their way to the car, and then back to Patton’s house.  Both of Patton’s parents headed out to try and get as much of the shopping done as they still could, and Remus, Patton, Virgil, and Roman, all headed into the house.

Roman did help Remus remake the cookies, and though they’d have to be chilled for another night before they could have them now, he seemed appropriately guilty enough that Remus could forgive him.

Jury was still out on everything else.

…

Roman ended up sitting in the background of most of the Christmas activities, and while Patton’s parents made an effort to talk to him, Remus didn’t, and no one seemed to begrudge him for that.  So he spent his time watching The Nightmare Before Christmas with Patton and Virgil, talking over memories they all came up with throughout the night, and opening one present each for Christmas Eve.  (Remus got a small morningstar keychain from Virgil that was just sharp enough to make him cackle with delight.  Patton opened a card from Virgil that had a very sweet family sentiment on it, and Virgil opened Remus’ gift, which was a giant set of Nightmare Before Christmas posters that Virgil ranted about for twenty minutes.)

They all ended up sleeping curled up in a pile together in the living room as it got later and none of them wanted to move, and Remus was perfectly content sleeping through the night in a pile of tangled limbs.

Or at least, he would have been.

But in the middle of the night, he woke up to the sound of someone walking through the living room, and turned with a grumble to see Roman standing at the edge of the couch.

Remus was tempted for a moment to roll over in a dismissive way and go back to sleep, but then Roman sighed and looked away.

“How much did I miss?” he mumbled.

“What the fuck did you want me to do?” Remus asked.  “It’s been months.  Did you expect me to wait around forever?”

“No, of course not,” Roman said, crossing his arms, though he looked closer to uncomfortable than to angry.  “I… it’s just jarring, okay?”

“Well maybe you should have been there when we met,” Remus said, narrowing his eyes.

Roman nodded.  “I know,” he said quietly.  “I… I’m sorry, Remus.”

“Gee, thanks.  Can I go back to sleep now?”

Roman glared at him.  “Hey, I’m actually trying here,” he snapped.

Patton mumbled something and shifted in his sleep.

Remus glanced over at him, then sighed and slipped away from his side, then stood, walking as quietly as he could over to Roman.  He grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the back patio, unlocking and opening the screen door, then closing it behind them.

Roman shivered and wrapped his arms around himself.  “It’s cold as shit.”

“Deal with it,” Remus snapped.  “You know something?  I tried too, you shithead.  I tried over and over.  I tried to talk to you, I tried to include myself in your lives more, I tried voicing my concerns.  The one time you apologized and offered to try and make it up to me, you went right back to arguing before we could get started, so I stormed out of the apartment and got drunk and didn’t come back.  And you never noticed.”

Roman looked down at his feet with obvious shame.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  “I didn’t— I couldn’t see past my own shit.”

“Glad you finally worked that out.”

“What do you want me to say?” Roman asked, looking up almost desperately at Remus, sounding dangerously close to crying again.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t— do you want me to say something else?”

“Do I have to forgive you because you’re sorry?” Remus exclaimed, throwing his hands up.  “You fucker.  You hurt me.  That shit fucked me up.”

“I’m sorry,” Roman said again.  “I don’t know what else to say.  I don’t have an explanation.  I don’t have an excuse.  You know what happened.  I don’t know what else to say.”

Remus laughed bitterly, looking up at the sky.  He didn’t know what else he wanted him to say either.

“Please,” Roman choked out, wrapping his arms around himself.  “I’m sorry.  I’m sorry.  Please don’t leave me alone with him again.”

Remus looked back down at him.  Roman pressed his hands to his face and started to sob, big heaving ones that seemed to shake his whole body.

Remus sighed and pressed his own hand to his forehead.  “Okay,” he muttered.

Roman looked back at him through his tears, and Remus reached out and pulled him in.  Roman started sobbing more apologies onto his shoulder, and Remus listened to him and tried to figure out why they weren’t working for him when he clearly meant them.

“Roman?” he said after a second.

Roman took a huge effort of a breath.  “Yeah?” he managed.

“Prove it.”

Roman took another shaky breath and nodded.  “Okay,” he said.  “Okay, I will.”

Remus nodded back, and for now wrapped his arms around Roman again.  It was in fact cold as balls outside, but Remus didn’t want to go back in and risk waking everyone up, so for now they held each other close and shivered and shook at the same time.

…

Janus woke up a day and a half after his surgery ended.  They all headed down to the hospital together again, and were sent up to Janus’ room.  Remus had no idea what to expect at this point.

Patton and Virgil stayed nearby, but Remus walked into Janus’ room with a hand on Roman’s arm, mostly because Roman was shaking too much to walk without him.

Janus… well, he’d looked better.

His left arm and leg were both in casts, and his face on that side was horribly bruised and swollen.  His right side had cuts and injuries that were obviously going to scar, and even though his face was partially obscured from the way he was leaning back and looking up at the ceiling, Remus could tell it was scrunched up in pain.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tightened his grip on Roman’s arm, despite himself.

Roman reached out and squeezed his hand before quietly calling, “Janus?”

Janus jerked upright at the noise, then winced in a way that looked painful.

“Roman,” he said anyway, and then he glanced over, and his face dropped.  “Remus?”

Remus jerked his arm away from Roman and crossed his arms tightly over his chest.  “Idiot,” he grumbled.  Patton walked up and gave Remus a side hug, and Virgil put a hand on his shoulder from the other side.

Roman walked over to the bed and took Janus’ hand, at least the one that wasn’t wrapped in a cast.  Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and then Roman whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Remus got the feeling he was talking about more than just the car crash.

His theory was confirmed a second later when Janus nodded weakly and quietly said, “Me too.”

Remus turned and dropped his head on Patton’s shoulder, who wrapped an arm around him from behind.  He wasn’t sure if he should give them privacy to talk because clearly they needed to, or stay here and monitor based on their terrible terrible track record.

Before he could make a decision, however, Janus called out his name.

Remus looked up at him, not even bothering to hide the exhaustion.  “What?”

“I’m sorry,” Janus said.  “For whatever that’s worth to you, with how insufficient it is.”

Remus bit his lip, and, just like with Roman, said “Prove it.”

Janus nodded.  “Alright,” he said, though he sounded exhausted at the prospect.  Remus didn’t much care.

“And also,” Remus said, pulling away from Patton and walking towards Janus, who looked very startled at the motion.  “If you fucking ever scare me like that again, I swear to god, I’ll steal all of your favorite bowler hats and smother them in glitter glue.”

Remus half expected Janus to laugh, or roll his eyes, or threaten Remus back.  Instead, he looked away and pulled in a shaky breath.

“I don’t really want to do this again either, Remus,” he said, and his voice cracked on the last word.

Remus sniffed and leaned in, wrapping his arms around Janus as gently as he could.  “I hate you so much,” he managed.

Janus didn’t say anything, just leaned heavily into Remus and started to cry.

Roman joined in on the hug from the other side, and then all three of them were sitting there together, and it had been so long since Remus hadn’t felt exhausted by the both of them being in the same space as him, but as they all sat there and cried a small piece of his broken chest started to put itself back together.

And even after all of their tears dried, none of them moved for a minute, and then another piece of his chest did the same thing.

“What,” Janus said weakly after a second.  “What happened to the person we hit?”

“She’s fine,” Remus said, glad he’d thought this far ahead.  “Not nearly as badly hurt.  Just has a stiff neck and a broken arm.”

Janus nodded, though dread seemed to grow on his face at the news.  “There is no way in hell I can afford the bills for all of this.  I’m going to be in debt for the rest of my life.”

“Don’t worry about that,” came Virgil’s sudden voice from over by the door.  All three of them glanced over towards him to find him looking up from where he and Patton had been respectfully looking down at his phone.  “Patton’s parents know how to work the system.  They helped me get my top surgery bill down to almost zero.  And that wasn’t even life threatening.  You’ll be fine.  Can’t say your car insurance bill won’t go through the roof, but you don’t have to worry about medical stuff.”

Janus shook his head, looking slightly confused.  “Patton’s parents?”

“Hi,” Patton said with a wave of his fingers.  “I’m Patton.  And I imagine you know Virgil from all the times you yelled at Roman for spending time with him!  We’re Remus’ friends now, and now you’re both stuck with us for his sake.  We’re gonna help make this as painless as possible for you and Roman both.”  He smiled just a little too wide.  “For him.”

Janus swallowed.  “Understood,” he said weakly.

“I’m so glad you do,” Patton said.  He turned to Remus with a much warmer smile.  “Virgil and I are gonna go get some food to give you all some time to talk, okay?  What would you like?”

“Anything greasy delicious and terrible for me,” Remus said.

Patton gave him a nod.  “You’ve got it,” he said.

“See you in a bit,” Virgil called with a mini salute.

As soon as they shut the door after them, Janus gave a harsh sigh.  Remus turned to watch him lean back against his pillows with a slow, pained breath.

“Are you okay?” Roman asked.

“Well,” Janus said.  “No.  Not really.  Everything hurts.  So much.”

Roman winced.  “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“What?  Why?” Janus asked, giving him a baffled look.  “That’s not your fault.”

“But— if you hadn’t swerved the car then—”

“Then you would be badly hurt,” Janus said, narrowing his eyes.  “Moron.”

Remus turned and gave Roman his best ‘Told you so’ look.  Roman swatted him away.

Then after a minute, he bit his lip and turned back to Janus.  “Hey Janus?”

“Yes?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

Janus closed his eyes in obvious relief.  “Okay,” he said weakly.

Remus didn’t say anything, just looked down and breathed his own relief, as quietly as he could manage.

The next couple months were going to suck.  But one thing Remus could say today that he hadn’t been able to say yesterday, was that there was at least something of a light at the end of the tunnel.

…

Janus’ recovery did suck.  Patton’s parents had managed to cut the hospital bill down to almost nothing, which Remus paid off while Janus was recovering and Janus was going to pay back later.  But that was just the tip of the iceberg.

Roman was fully recovered in a couple weeks, but Janus was in pain for months.  He was exhausted and hurting and miserable, and it was hard for Remus to watch.

But he helped, because he had promised Roman he wouldn’t leave the two of them alone, and because he had still missed them like an amputated limb.  And now they were acknowledging his presence again, which made that ache start to go away.

They were managing to prove it this time, to the point that even Patton and Virgil had to acknowledge they seemed to have learned their lesson, finally.  Neither of them liked Janus or Roman very much still, but they let them hang around, and that seemed good enough for Janus and Roman.

Things weren’t back to how they were, and Remus wasn’t quite sure if they ever would be, honestly.  Janus and Roman had a tendency to walk on eggshells around each other now.  Both of them checked in on Remus a bit too much, and Remus was going to have to have a talk with them about it eventually.  Their attempts to build something new out of what had been broken were clumsy and awkward.

But they were trying.  And Remus felt fairly sure they’d get there eventually.  And besides, if they went back, they wouldn’t have Patton and Virgil, or Patton’s parents who were an amazing substitute for Remus’ own and seemed almost enthusiastic to take up the job.

So, no, things weren’t going to go back to normal.  But while things had been lost, lessons had been learned, and things had been gained too.

And Remus was looking forward to whatever it was that came next.

[smurphyse]

Tomatoes Don't Bite | Eddie Munson

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, shock, terror, arguments, crying

Summary: Eddie meets Screech and Clem... and it doesn't go well.

I lounge back in my rocking chair as the sun begins to rise over the Haven. I set a filled coffee mug on the table between me and Eddie, but he doesn’t notice. For the last few hours he’s had a hand over his mouth as he stares wide-eyed at the sky.

The small patch of sunlight rests above like a single out of place square of fabric on a ripped quilt. We're surrounded on all sides by the Darkness, nestled in this enclave of trees and paths I've created. To me it's comforting, but to Eddie it seems to be petrifying. 

I’m on my third cup, listening to 70’s soft rock as the world inside the Haven wakes as I usually do. Eddie’s getting in my way, but I’m trying to remember what it’s like to be a human being again and let him work his way through his shock. What I want to do is shake him and maybe give him a sharp backhand to snap out of it, but from what I recall about being in polite society that isn’t very… polite.

“It’s not so bad, y’know?” I muse aloud. I’ve been musing on and off for the last few hours but have only gotten a few grunts and sighs in reply. “I have a big garden, a pond. There’s a lot of books for you to read while you recover.”

He says nothing, and I can see the red marks on his cheek from how tightly he’s holding his face. I want to force his hands away from his jaw but it would likely upset him. He’s refused to get out of the armchair since I moved it with my powers. I probably scared him.

“You should take a bath. I don’t have a shower.” I sip from my mug to give him the opportunity to reply, but he doesn’t. “I washed your hair as best I could but you’ve got as much as I do so I’ve mostly let it be. It could use a good wash.”

No reply. 

I take another pull off my coffee before deciding I've had enough. The clothes I gave him last night still lay on his lap, so I get to my feet and grab the sweatpants. Eddie lets me maneuver his feet into the leg holes and tug them up over his thighs. I try to keep the blanket in place since he seemed so sheepish before about being naked, but it just makes this harder. Where I came from naked bodies were just bodies, but once I got into the real world I found people didn't think that way if they didn't grow up in a lab. 

I use my powers to lift him up enough to pull them over his hips, and he finally seems to notice me. Eddie drags his hand from his jaw and sets it firmly on the armrest of the chair, watching as I unfold the flannel.

"How long have you been here?" he asks. His voice is small, gravelly from lack of use over the past few weeks. I shrug and take one of his hands, pull it through the sleeve. 

"Eleven years."

"Eleven?" he asks sharply, and when I meet his gaze he's shocked, terrified. "How am I supposed to get home?"

"I can take you home when you've healed more," I reply, shrugging again. "You can't exactly go to a hospital with these injuries. They'll ask too many questions."

"I should have died-," he begins, but I cut him off sharply. I don't like the thought. I don't want to bury him now that I've spoken to him. 

He's real now, not just another victim I've happened upon in the Darkness. He has life and light behind those warm brown eyes. He has people waiting for him in the real world.

"But you didn't. Don't worry about it."

Eddie watches me in confusion as I finish dressing him. I leave the flannel open so I have easier access to his healing wounds, and he makes no move to button it up. He leans in as I'm on my knees in front of him, "You're like the rest of them. From Hawkins lab. You're like Eleven."

Eleven? I think, she's just a little girl. But she's not anymore. If my math is right she's just about fifteen, more powerful than she should be though I haven’t seen her since she was a child. I can feel when she comes here. I can feel how scared Henry is by her presence. Like the rest of us I’m drawn to her, but staying here means I can keep myself far away from her and the truth that comes with her.

I eye him with caution. I don’t want him to see more than I need to give. The more information Eddie Munson knows about me the more danger I’m putting myself in.

“I haven’t seen her in a long time,” I tell him quietly, but my own longing for my sisters surfaces again as it had years ago when Eight escaped the lab herself. My voice threatens to shake as I ask, “Is she okay?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says softly, apologetically. “I never met her. I only heard stories from my friends.”

Eddie flashes me a lopsided grin that shocks me, a startling change from his statuesque staring at nothing all night. “I hear she’s a total badass, that she’s one cool chick.”

I hum as I think about that. I don’t even know what she looks like anymore. I used to cuddle her on my lap, rubbing my hand over her buzzed head as I rocked her to sleep. She always had nightmares, like me, and I tried to give her good memories that I never had. We shared the same eyes, deep brown and big like a doe. All the kids did with the exception of Henry, no matter how much they looked like their birth mothers. Eleven and I always looked a lot alike.

So maybe she looks like me… I find some comfort in that.

Eddie breaks my thoughts with a hand that covers mine. His fingers are now home to small scars where the bones broke through the skin in some places, but his touch is gentle. He’s warm and for a split second it grounds me before panic sets in. I’m not a human anymore, I shouldn’t be treated like one. 

I will always be the monster that did this to Eddie Munson and the rest of those kids.

“They said she can… I don’t know, find people?” he starts, slow and soft. “Can you do that or do you guys have different powers?”

"That's dangerous, Eddie," I growl, and he leans back. "You go looking for people and they can find you back."

"At least they'll know I'm alive!" he bursts with an energy he shouldn't have. "She'll know you're alive and she can come get us out of here. We can stop Henry and-."

“No.”

“Zero, come on,” he begs as I stand and snatch my coffee mug from the table. I’ve had enough of his questions, so I wave my hand behind me as I stalk back into the cabin. His armchair screeches across the wood as he twists in it to look at me. “I need to see them. I need to know they’re okay.”

“I’m sure they’re fine,” I grunt in annoyance as I stomp into the kitchen. I pour myself another cup of coffee and lean against the counter. I turn the chair so he stops angling to see me. “Screech and Clem didn’t tell me anyone else was out there.”

“Who’s that?” 

I blanch, and right on cue the front door bursts open. The screen door hits the wall with a clattering BANG, and Eddie jumps in his spot, eyes going wide. Clem comes bounding in, all gurgling barks and growl-like pants, followed by Screech ambling in through the doorway.

“What the FUCK?” Eddie screams. He scrambles against the back of the chair, clawing to get away. Clem jumps up on the edge with her talons, licking out at him as he swats her feebly away. “Help! Oh my god, help!”

I roll my eyes and set the mug on the counter. With a flick of my wrist the armchair pulls back a few feet, and I hurry in front of it before Clem can pounce on Eddie again with her kisses. Holding out my hands, I give her a stern look.

Clem sits down with a plop, her little tail thumping against the wood. Screech stands behind her with his wings tucked behind his back, head cocked down thinking he was in trouble. Eddie pants behind me, a reedy high sound as he tries to steady himself.

“Guys, go outside,” I tell them, pointing back the way they came. They both look out the door and back to me, cocking their heads. I sigh, “I know you want to meet my new friend but he’s not ready. Go outside and I’ll feed you dinner later.”

I can feel their thoughts, how sad they are that I won’t let them hang out with us here. I'd rather talk to them than Mr. Twenty Questions anyway. "Go on, it's okay."

With little brrups, they turn tail and sulk outside and I swing the door shut behind them. 

"Wait!" I call out, and they turn to face me again. I hear Eddie shudder behind me but I ignore it. "Did you see anybody else out there recently? Alive or dead?"

Screech nods, and I hear his yes inside my mind. Eddie groans, "Oh no, no, no."

"Did they die out there?"

No. Screech shakes head and points at Eddie. Just him. The rest escaped from his group. The others were dead when their consciousness was brought here.

"The rest escaped," I reiterate, and Eddie stops his babbling. "They're back in the real world. The gate closed behind them."

"How do you know?" he asks. I turn to look at him and those brown eyes pour over with tears. It twists something inside me and I want to smack him as though that may make it stop.

I jerk my head over my shoulder at Screech, who waves one bony wing, "Screech told me."

"But, but, it's one of them," Eddie blubbers, his eyes flicking between me, Clem and Screech. "It's one of the monsters. They killed Chrissy! They ate my insides like a fucking taco, Zero-!"

Screech whines, Clem covers her face with her paw. Their pain at being compared to those corrupted beings radiates inside me. I shake my head at Eddie. 

"They're my friends. I found them as babies, hiding under a leaf and curled up together."

I smile at the memory, and I point my palm at Eddie to show it to him. His eyes glaze over as my power takes root, and he fights me, but I push gently until I can reach inside his mind and latch on. 

Purple storm clouds flash in a vibrant sea of red violent haze. Goosebumps form on my skin in the warm summer air as the memory of that cold night pours through us both. I'm watching my boots sink into the sticky gray mud in the particle ridden rain. I'm sneaking through the woods back to the Haven, but I trip over a vine and burst into tears as I hit the ground. 

Every day in the cold was getting harder, and I was so weak I could barely walk. I sob into the mud, ready to give up when I hear it. A small screeching caws at me, so loud that I flinch and lay down flat so nothing can find me. I hear it again, but the fluttering of wings that accompanies it is too small for the voice. 

That's when I see them, two small beings that can fit into the palm of my hand. One is a tiny bird with no eyes and red leathery skin. The other is like a chubby tadpole, its mouth shaped like the puckered end of a clementine. 

When I reach out my hand they climb onto my palm and nestle in, and the connection is immediate. We're bonded in that split second of terrifying vulnerability, the same way I felt when I healed Eddie for the first time. 

I let the memory wash away with the rain, and Eddie gasps as his eyes pull back into focus. He struggles to stand and this time I let him, ready to catch him if he falls. 

Eddie clutches the arm of the chair, his body trembling. His voice shakes with his fear, "Why are they different?"

He points at Clem and Screech, who wait patiently for further instructions. The warmth floods back to my skin and I take a shuddering breath as I shrug, "Their mothers were killed. I took care of them. If I hadn't they would have died or been eaten by one of the others."

"Why?" he asks defiantly. My answers aren't good enough. Even I know it, but fuck this guy. I saved his ass so I don't owe him shit. 

"They're predators. It's what they do."

"That's not what I meant."

I look at my friends and smile, and they visibly relax before heading back outside. I coax Eddie back into the chair by pushing at his chest, and since he can't do much else he falls back onto the seat. 

I lean over him until my nose nearly touches his. He gulps, his pupils dilate, a soft sheen of nervous sweat eases its way from his pores. I know he's scared and I'm not helping, but I don't want to talk about this anymore. 

"I didn't want to be alone anymore."

Eddie stays defiant, on my nerves and pissing me off. He sets his jaw and squares his shoulders, "Is that why you brought me here? So you had someone to talk to? Are you that miserable?"

"Maybe I should have left you there to be eaten alive then!"

"Maybe you should have!" he screams back, and I've had enough. I turn on my heel and stomp towards the door, toward the sunshine and away from Eddie Munson. He yells as I walk through the frame, "And stay out of my head!"

"Fine!" I throw over my shoulder, flinging the door shut. It lands with a shattering crack as the frame splinters under the force. 

"Fine!"

Eddie glares around the cabin after Zero storms out. The screen door hangs on a hinge in front of him where she busted it, and he can't believe the stories are true. 

All his friends had said about Eleven… everything he'd seen Henry capable of… his mind was struggling to grasp it all. Zero's power terrified him. He'd felt her seeping into his mind, not using him or taking his control, but spreading around him in a vision that he swore he could touch. What else was she capable of?

He'd felt the creatures, Screech and Clem, climb into his palm…Zero's palm. The rain bit his skin and blanketed his bones in the damp chill. He'd felt the connection of their consciousness… of his own connecting with hers. 

She was so frightened…even now with him. He felt it all. 

Eddie never understood what true psionic telepathy meant… but now? What a whirlwind… What a gift. He can't wait to meet Eleven.

Eddie can hear the gurgling barks of the demadog, the little coos of that bird. She's talking to them softly, apologizing for him. After everything he never thought of those things as animals capable of anything more than death and terror. She saved him, and from the shoddy bits of memory he had, the creatures had too. Dustin told him once that he’d saved a demadog and it became his friend. It ate his cat, but in the end it didn’t hurt him.

That has to count for something, right? 

Deciding it's best to keep the woman who saved his life on his side, Eddie gets shakily to his feet. His muscles shake like jello, but luckily the cabin is small enough that he can hold onto the various shelves and plant stands Zero has set up all over the place. 

Avoiding the splinters in the wood, Eddie opens the screen door and steps back onto the porch. She sits with her back to him in the grass, but he sees her head cock to the side. Screech and Clem are nowhere to be found so he lets the door swing shut behind him as he grips the rail for support. 

He hadn’t noticed before, but there were plants everywhere in this place. They seeped out of the windows of the cabin and around the rails of the porch, long tendrils vines creeping through the grass. They reminded him of the vines in the Upside Down, but these didn’t frighten him. Instead he rather likes the look, a place filled with life in the dark.

"You shouldn't be walking around so much yet."

With a flick of her wrist Eddie's pulled off the porch. His center of gravity lurches as she lifts him with ease, a startled yelp bursting from his chest. His eyes snap shut in fear but then he's plopped down on a pile of dirt beside her. 

"You need to rest," she says as he opens his eyes, watching him out of the corner of hers. "Your muscles are weak from laying in bed for two weeks. Take it slow."

Eddie squints, "Two weeks?"

She nods, her fingers go back to the dirt in front of her. Her eyelids flutter for a moment, and from the ground sprouts a stem. Eddie watches in awe as it grows and hardens until it reaches the top of her head, and two tomatoes bloom from two of the branches. 

Zero plucks one off and hands it to him without a word before sinking her teeth into the other. It's warm in his palm like the sun has soaked it in its rays for weeks. 

She turns to look at him, "It's not gonna bite you."

Eddie waves it at her, marveling at the squishy firm fruit in his hand, "How did you do that?"

"It's basic biology. Turn sunlight into nutrients with the water and soil." She lifts an old tupperware from the ground beside her and shakes it. It sounds like a rainstick. "Just add a seed."

"So you're like a druid, huh?" Eddie smirks. He leans his elbows on his knees and squeezes the tomato lightly just to see it bend and bounce back into shape. "That's awesome."

Zero cocks a brow, "A… druid?"

"Yeah, like in DnD."

"That game with the dice?"

Eddie nods with a smile. She doesn't return it. 

She makes a face. “Eat your tomato.”

Eddie complies, sinking his teeth into the ripe fruit. The acidic-sweet juices flood over his tongue, and before he can stop himself he lets out a humming moan. Zero watches him with a curious smile while he chews and swallows.

“That’s the best fucking tomato I’ve ever had!” 

Zero leans back to rest on her elbows to watch him. Eddie tries to focus on his tomato and not the way her flannel rides up to reveal her black panties and the tops of her tanned thighs. The last thing he needs is a boner in front of this girl he doesn't know. 

"What were you doing out there?" 

When he makes a face she points to where the Upside Down meets the sunshine. His eyes widen. He'd nearly forgotten about that. 

Eddie lets the tomato hang in his hands and sighs, "We were trying to stop Vecna…Henry."

"Well, that was dumb. How the hell were you going to even do that? You're a weakling compared to him, might as well be a mouse against a lion."

The anger from that morning builds in his chest again, and he waves the fruit at her, "Why haven't you stopped him?"

She shrugs. "What happens outside of the Haven isn't any of my business."

"He's killing people, Zero!" Eddie yells, but she just stares at him. "He killed Chrissy and so many others."

She sighs in annoyance and shakes her head, "People die every day, Eddie. It's not my job to save them."

"Yet you went out and saved my ass anyway." He points out. 

"You can thank Screech and Clem for that. They wouldn't leave me alone until I checked out the swarm that was eating your insides."

"Those…those monster things?" Eddie sputters, "Why would they care?"

"They might be predators but they're not monsters," Zero growls. Her dark eyes light with fire as she stares him down, her jaw set tightly. "You don't understand anything about this place. Another reason you and your friends shouldn't be messing with it. You should never have come here."

"He killed Chrissy in front of me," he whispers, his voice cracking with the memory of her violent death. He can still hear the noises… Eddie shakes his head to wash it away. "She was scared and in pain. She didn't deserve that."

Zero softens, but only a bit. Her eyes are calculating, watchful, like she still isn't sure what to make of him. Her voice is gentle as she crosses her legs and leans forward, "He killed your girlfriend?"

Eddie shakes his head, "She wasn't even really my friend…but she was nice to me. Even though she was the most popular girl in school she was always nice. She was just scared and needed help. 

"I tried to help her." Eddie drops the tomato and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes as tears begin to form. His grief for Chrissy was overwhelming when he let himself think too long about her, especially after Max told them what she'd been seeing. "I ran away."

"Of course you did. Anyone would," Zero's voice came from his side, and when he looked up she'd moved next to him. Her hand hung in the air like she thought about putting a comforting palm on his shoulder but thought better of it. 

"She was so scared." And with that Eddie finally burst into tears. He wanted to curl up, but his sore and stiff body wouldn't quite let him. 

His chest shook with the weight of it all, exhausted and terrified and just wanting to go home. Instead of holding him, Zero just moves to sit between his spread legs and lets him cry without her watching him. He was grateful to be away from her sharp gaze, and his hand found its way to lean heavily on her shoulder as he sobbed. 

She didn't seem to mind, and instead focused on growing her tomato plant. Zero didn't even stiffen as he held on to her. She was the only lifeline he had left, and she let him cling to her like a child lost in the woods. 

That's exactly what he is. 

Lost.

Smurph's Masterlist | Zero to Hero Masterlist

Notes: I'm always gonna be salty about Chrissy bc I think she and Eddie really could have been good friends <;/3

ST Taglist: @tlclick73 @theloser007 @sadbitchfangirl @chaoticcancer  @harrys-tittie @assassinsasha23 @spacedoutdaydreamer @legendarytrashcopeclipse @notahappystan

[purposefully-lost]

Chris reached towards the dash to shut off the AC. He'd been parked in the farthest corner of a travel stop parking lot for the past hour, and now that the sky had been dark for a while, the air had finally seemed to cool down. He leaned against the window as he listened to his phone ring for the third time, counting each repetition until he was certain it was just going to send him to voice mail again.

"Hello?" Asked a voice on the other line. He'd been so sure that he wouldn't get an answer that it had to repeat itself. Chris blinked as it registered that he'd finally gotten through, sitting up in his seat.

"Hey," he started, before he broke into a grin, something that was more for the man on the other side of the phone than it was anything else. "Hey, Charlie, how've you been?"

"Uh.. fine," came the answer. "S'been good. Hey, I uh, I- I'm sorry I missed your call, the other times. I was kinda busy."

"Busy doin' what?" Chris asked, and now the grin was genuine, a teasing tone slipping into his voice. It was hard not to tease Charlie, sometimes. The kid just made it easy. "It's almost eleven. You're not workin' this late, are you?"

"N- no, I just.. I had shit to do. Clean, or whatever. Wh- why're you callin', anyway?"

"I can't just call 'cause I wanna hear from you?" He asked. His smile started to slip. He glanced up at his review mirror and frowned when he realized he was no longer catching a glint of something wet when he looked towards the backseat. The blood had dried. It was gonna be a real bitch to scrub it out and he wondered if he shouldn't just get something to lay over it to save himself the trouble. Couldn't be helped now, though. He had another target he was waiting on. "It's been a while, man. I just wanted to hear how things were goin'."

"Well, uh..." There was something hesitant in Charlie's voice. There almost always was, but there was a catch to it just then that, for Chris' whole life, had always seemed to spell trouble. He frowned as he Iistened. "It hasn't been too bad. I've, uh... I've mostly just been.. workin', so, y'know. Uh.."

"You've gotta get a hobby or somethin'. You still keepin' an eye on those horses for Charlotte?"

"Uh, yeah, sometimes, I guess. I guess- I- I guess I did, uh, meet someone, actually. Kind of. That's been..." There was a short sound from the other side of the line, a half of a laugh that sounded like the happiest thing he'd heard from Charlie in a long time. "That's been goin' good, actually."

"Met someone?" Chris teased. That was the kind of thing he wanted to hear! The last time they'd talked, Charlie had sounded like he was having a real rough time. They all were. But maybe he'd finally gone and got himself some friends, if not something even more than. "What's her name?"

"Uh..." There was a long pause. He was starting to wonder if Charlie had either forgotten or was just plain bullshitting him when he finally continued. "Uh, Victory. He- I- he goes by Vi, usually."

He? Chris paused, letting that settle, then fell into another laugh. He! God, of course it would be a he. He heard Charlie start to stutter again and quickly cut him off. "Victory?" He asked. "That's one hell of a name. Maybe I'll have to come by and meet this guy sometime."

"Yeah," Charlie said, and then a little more energy poured into his voice. "Yeah, you- you should. He's.. he's really somethin'." Chris could hear the smile as it must've found his brother's face. "He's been really good to me. I'd love for you to meet him."

"I'm happy for you, man. Listen, I-" He glanced up and cut himself off. A truck he recognized had just pulled into the lot. He mouth set into a hard frown. "I've gotta go. I'll see you around, though, alright?"

"Yeah, I'll--"

Chris ended the call. It was time to go.

[butchtwelfthdoctor]

got carried away writing a book review of the day of the doctor so here u go i guess

the episode itself is. fine I guess. there are some good moments & its fun seeing ten & eleven interact and there's some good angsting etc. like the episode is fairly solid even though it does that typical moffat retroactively-changing-massive-parts-of-canon thing that he liked doing. its not perfect but whatever, there are lots of good bits! The Novelisation. Is. Dare I Say Kinda Bad.

(also I should point out that this is written by steven moffat who was the showrunner and wrote the script for the episode like he should know what he's doing)

it starts off with the doctor narrating in a typical slightly silly pretentious fourth-wall breaking kinda thing and you're like okay this is sort of cool yup very eleven that feel like him. the narration switches between the doctor talking about himself in third person cos a) that's how books work and b) he's just Like That but will slip into first person in select moments to show he's getting caught up in remember events or his feelings and the idea is that you're reading it on psychic paper & it's being beamed into your head telepathically or whatever and that's cool!! that's a good idea!

HOWEVEr. there are three (mainly) versions of the doctor in the book the war doctor the tenth doctor and the eleventh. and YOUD THINK THEY JUST CALL THEM WAR DOCTOR TEN AND ELEVEN like normal people but noooooooo depending on whose pov you're in he gives them all silly nicknames based on how various characters perceive them which is really hard to follow, or just call all of the The Doctor, which is their name yeah but like ??? which one is talking???? you kinda have to guess sometimes??? added to that is that there are shapeshifters in this one so there's another layer of 'is this the real guy or the Copy Guy' as well as BAD WOLF being there (who isn't rose, its bad wolf, but it isn't her either because it's a sentient superweapon that's talking to him that just LOOKS like rose.), there's just all in all a lot of Multiple Versions Of The Same Few People which can be hard to keep track of. like it's just confusing to read sometimes. not too hard even if the endless silly nicknames for ten & eleven get annoying a bit.

and there's a bunch of inconsistencies too (and yes I know I know this is the who needs continuity show) between this and the episode and I guess moffat can do what he likes adapting his own stuff but he kinda missed out some good bits? doesn't even have the 'this is his grunge phase' line and some of the stuff that makes ten and eleven's dynamic so funny but has all these random extra scenes of kate lethbridge-stewart and osgood that are just ?????? we didn't need that there??? it wasn't reeeeally adding anything??? and in the episode ten and eleven cant see bad wolf/rose/the moment ar all but here they see it for a bit?? but like no reaction really from either of them even though ten at LEaST should have had a visceral moment of loss there or something. idk.

and then at the end where there's that curator guy who is tom baker and its kinda I think supposed to be ambiguous as to whether its really four or not or some kind of coincidence but in the book it's like 'ahah! i was really narrating as four all along!' but like how is that even possible sorry I know this is the time travel show but why is he there and what is the implication? i think it's cos 11 says 'oh I could retire and be a curator' and then four is all old n stuff and Is the curator but like???? he regenerated?? is this a ten/fourteen type situation of the far future like a decade before they came up with that and then why is four in 2013??? what?? idk did they just really really want tom baker in it?

and then there's more foreshadowing of peter capaldi as twelve and then ten says 'i don't want to go' again which you're supposed to find sad but is fitted in in the most awkward way possible like. he would not say that no one would have said that sentence just then sorry guys. the ending feels kinda rushed more so in the book cos the narrator (four?? eleven??? is literally Not Paying Attention to the last conversation and then there's a page that says HELP ME over a bunch of tally marks ?????? idk man????? also there's all this stuff in the comedic chapter interlude narration that's referring to 'chapter nine' 'stop trying to find chapter nine' is he just saying 'yeah ok the ninth doctor's not in this one sorry guys'???? i think so??

cos it starts with chapter eight which is the eighth doctor getting regenerated into the war doctor (a soldier in the time war, the very thing he was saying he'd never become) (more of Moffat retrospectively Majorly Altering Canon) which was uhm. quite the scene cos in the episode he chooses it?? but in the book it says he was forced to by the sisterhood of karn???? what???????????? if that's so then why isn't that made Very Clear in the episode???? girl what???? there's lots of references to classic who which is fun but then he goes and says 'oh yeah btw one and two were actually colourblind that's why 1963-69 was in black and white' like okay. that's a slightly stupid writing decision which every other author has managed to ignore because it doesn't matter that they were in black and white cos the show started airing IN THE SIXTIES you can accept the limitations of historical content into canon!! he did the exact same thing in twice upon a time when he made One make sexist jokes so he could point out how progressive the show was Now which actually backfires Majorly because it makes The Doctor sexist instead of making The White British Colonial Men Who Wrote It In 1960s England sexist like ausgnauhgnshansghn CMON! and on that note Why Is This STuff So Sexualised like????? there was no need to say that the doctor found clara pretty, or rose/bad wolf/the moment/whatever, ten ends up marrying queen Elizabeth I which is kinda funny ngl but some of the things eleven says about that! is so weird! and unnecessary! and theres the fuckinhnsaa scene with the comparing the size of the sonic screwdrivers which is SO BAD LIKE YUCKKKK WHAT WHY WOULD YOU PUT THAT IN THERE ITS A FAMILY SHOW DUDE and like all the women at some point have a Comment on their appearance except for maybe kate lethbridge-stewart but idk. ahjsajnsajnsan. ick. and moffat just changes canon around all the time! gallifrey is gone again! but not really! but now it's back for real! the hybrid! (still don't know what was up with that) the impossible girl! mels/melody/river song! why!

and like some of it was so good!! the three doctors who are all the same person but not the same person, and some of the character writing was really really good & the interactions between different regenerations and like i Knew sometimes when ten was speaking cos the way he reacts to his own issues is so predictable (good predictable. like he has A Way He Acts its fascinating) and how they talk to each other (themself) as a representation of what the doctor is always struggling with about the decisions he's made. and i love the 'time lord art is bigger on the inside' bit that's really cool & when the war doctor starts the calculations and then eleven can finish them cos its four hundred years later even though they're in the same room together, like that's cool! moffat understands how to use timey-wimey stuff in the time travel show and he does it very well, a lot more (and better) than russell t davies does. but i watch this episode and think what no i really like this one and then i think about it and There Are Problems!!

anyways. uhm. haha. my favourite show 👍