#i mean the closest translation would actually be 'no yes but hey. here you go. eh?'

[trashlord-watson]

love being native in a language where "no yes but good, there you go, what" is a valid sentence

[hurpdurpburps]

Otherside Picnic Manga Yuri Club Special Story 9 English Translation

SPOILER WARNING: Takes place immediately after the events of File 10 - Sannuki-san and Karateka-san in Vol 3 of the novels.

Written by: Miyazawa Iori

Translated by: @hurpdurpburps

-

Chapter 9: Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party

The intercom rang, and Akari was the first to stand up from the couch before anyone else could do so.

"Looks like it's here! Do you mind if I get the door, Kozakura-san?"

"Yeah, please do."

"Understood!"

Akari left the reception room, and soon after the sound of the front door opening could be heard.

"Yes! This way!" A loud voice calling out to the delivery person came through from beyond the closed door.

"That girl is full of energy," Kozakura said, half-amused.

"She sure is loud, isn't she?"

"Maybe doing karate makes you this way," Toriko chimed in, tilting her head to the side.

I wasn’t sure if everyone in this room - meaning Kozakura, Toriko, and myself – would be a match for Akari even if we combined our voices and all of the cheer that we could muster.

"I thought you were someone like that too when we first met, Toriko."

"Me?"

"I’d assumed you were one of those bright, cheerful rays of sunshine, so I was surprised when you didn't turn out to be like that."

"Hey, you shouldn't judge a book by its cover."

She had a fair point, but anyone would’ve thought the same after seeing her come on so strongly when we first met. She'd even tracked me down at my university.

In hindsight, the manner in which she’d abruptly gotten closer to me felt a bit off. And that was in addition to the fact that I knew that she was in illegal possession of a gun.

As such, it was curious how we ended up becoming good friends. If Toriko had reciprocated the sense of distance between us, we wouldn't be where we were right now.

"You’re really shy, aren’t you, Toriko?"

"I guess so."

"You were so quick to tell me to help out Akari and Natsumi, but you clammed up the moment you met them in person."

"That’s because I didn't know what to talk about."

"Well, neither did I."

"Sorawo-chan, didn't you notice that Toriko was shy when you met for the first time?"

"Not at all. Was it different when you first met her, Kozakura-san?"

Kozakura and Toriko shared a look.

"She didn’t speak much and just sort of smiled, so I thought, ‘She’s a quiet one.’"

"Ah, so she was in her usual shy mode."

"I was nervous, you know… I got used to you quickly, didn’t I?" Toriko said sheepishly.

"Yeah, you sure did, getting so close to me all of a sudden that I got scared."

"It’s as I thought after all…"

"What do you mean ‘after all’? I thought we got along pretty well right from the get-go, Sorawo."

"On the contrary, what was up with that? You didn't seem shy at all."

"Mmn- I just kinda thought, ‘It feels like I can get along with this girl.’”

"And why is that?"

"Huh? Umm."

Toriko suddenly looked at me with a shy grin on her face.

"Wh- what?"

"Nothing?"

"Seriously, what???"

While I was in my state of confusion, I heard Akari's footsteps return.

"Helloooo! Could you open the door, please!"

Being the one in closest proximity, I stood up and opened the door to the reception room, and Akari entered carrying a pile of pizza boxes and several bags of side orders in her hands.

"Huh, did we order this much?"

"It'll be fine as long as you eat up, Sorawo."

"No way, eat your proper share too, Toriko!"

"I'll be eating as well, so it's alright!"

That's right, I’ll need Akari to take one for the team today.

This afterparty was a victory celebration of sorts for defeating Sannuki-kano. Which was why we’d made an exception and invited Akari.

"It would’ve been nice if Natsumi could join us," Toriko said with a smile.

There you go, saying things like that again, even though you’d barely be able to hold a conversation if she were actually here.

"I totally feel the same way, but it seems she still has her hands full with work."

"Make sure you eat her share too."

"Got it! Thank you for the food!"

Kozakura squinted her eyes in response to Akari’s bright reply, as if she were looking at a blindingly-bright object.

I must have the same expression on my face, I thought to myself.

TL Notes

General note: I adopted a more 'literary' prose style to match the tone of the novels. Hence, the translation in this series will be significantly more liberal than my usual analytical posts. Feel free to ask me anything. Feedback regarding translation accuracy is also welcome.

No particular terms or phrases to point out for this chapter, but I did make a conscious effort to make everyone's speech patterns more distinctive because I wanted to more accurately reflect the dialogue nuances and corresponding lack of speaker signifiers in the original Japanese text as best as I could.

Do let me know if the conversations in this chapter are confusing to read.

List of Yuri Club's Otherside Picnic Short Stories [my translations]:

1. Shinjuku, The First Meet-Up (新宿、初めての待ち合わせ)

2. Hasshaku-sama Epilogue (八尺様エピローグ)

3. Ochanomizu, The First Afterparty (お茶の水、初めての打ち上げ)

4. Ikebukuro, Cafe Meal For One (池袋、ひとりカフェ飯)

5. Naha, After The Big Job (那覇、大仕事の後)

6. Ishigaki Island, A Dazed Vacation (石垣島、呆然のリゾート)

7. Mercedes AMG, The Backseat (メルセデスAMG、後部座席)

8. Otherworldly Elevator, On The Way Back (異世界エレベーター、帰路)

9. Kozakura Mansion, Pizza Party (小桜屋敷、ピザパーティー)

10. Ikebukuro Bookstore, Meet Up (池袋の書店、待ち合わせ)

11. Hannou, In The Car From The Station (飯能、駅からの車中)

12. TBD

[tepehkwi]

hey, i was wondering if you'd be willing to talk a bit about how you knew you were twospirit? i think i am but i have doubts about claiming the term for myself. did an elder claim you as 2S?

so my tribe has a twospirit concept that is so unacknowledged in literature about our history, even our own, that i only know of one source that mentions it, and in basically every other text it's just the umbrella term "berdashe" which is just the antiquated colonizer term for any native with a "weird" "gender" expression that you'll probably find in most textbooks that even bother to cover the topic. 😑

if you want some context, this is how colonizers described us, i-coo-coo-a, or twospirit meshkwahkihaki, and it should be noted that i-coo-coo-a is not listed anywhere in our own comprehensive language dictionaries to this day:

Later, in the 1830s, non-Native artist George Catlin traveled through western North America, where he witnessed and painted a “Dance to the Berdash.” In his travelogue, Catlin called the central figure “a man dressed in women’s clothes” although the Native term, i-coo-coo-a, loosely translates to “man-woman.” In Catlin’s opinion, the “berdash” performed “the most servile and degrading duties,” although he conceded that the i-coo-coo-a was considered sacred by the Sauk and Fox (Meskwaki) communities. “This is one of the most unaccountable and disgusting customs, that I have ever met in the Indian country,” Catlin fulminated, “where I should wish that it might be extinguished before it be more fully recorded.” Later, anthropologist Mary Owen estimated that the dance—and the traditional role fulfilled by the i-coo-coo-a—did indeed vanish around 1900. [source: from an nyhs blog/article on indigenous genders]

something you should know about my people is that we do not live on a reservation, we have our own sovereign nation within iowa. yes, it's a microscopic fraction of what our actual indigenous lands were, but we experience a level of privilege that rez natives don't. and this is just my own opinion but a lot of other meskwaki/meshkwahkihaki in tama are on the conservative side with both politics and religion, and i think that our comparative or relative lack of a struggle faced by the majority of other natives in this country has created an environment where we're unfortunately no more left-leaning and no less conservative than the rest of rural iowa. so, no, an elder didn't claim me as twospirit... excuse the slight hyperbole but i would be hard-pressed to find more than a couple of elders in my community that aren't literal republicans, let alone inclusive of our own culture's gender diversity.

like i'll be honest with you, i transitioned away from home and i don't really talk about my whole "gender journey" here, since i'm not as active on tumblr as much as i am on my private twitter, but it's been kind of depressing studying in other states and meeting ndns from other tribes who completely understand my identity only to come back home and find out that my uncle's voting for trump again. 😐 we're also in a caucus state and given how the last caucus went, it's just kinda disappointing to think about the fact that we’re essentially making decisions for other natives when a lot of us are literally so willfully out of touch with other tribes.

lol i know you didn't ask for my whole ass political commentary so, sorry for that... 😭

but idk i think it's important context, because twospirit is something that came from the pan-indigenous movement era (well sort of) and it's the closest thing i have as a widely-understood term to describe myself. but thanks for asking, i hope this clarifies some things or answers your question in some way. i don't think we necessarily need to consult with elders about it. many of us straightup can't. by all means, if you think it would be a good thing to seek out elder input about claiming twospirit, go ahead, but in my experience some of us just are. i relate to the insecurity completely... 😔

just know that elder input/approval isn't the end-all-be-all.

[blucifer08]

Hey there, wanted to leave a prompt or two in hopes of giving you some inspiration (multiple prompts so you can choose whichever you like best, if any): Shelter, Unbroken promises we made so long ago (from "Close in the Distance"), Fernweh (a word from my mother tongue that has no real English translation, the closest being wanderlust, but it is more about being somewhere far away rather than about travelling itself)

Hi, thank you so much for sending this. I know it's been forever, but I was thinking hard about this lol. I wanted to go with Fernweh. You gave a good explanation to go off of, but as I'm not sure what language your mother tongue is! So I kind of went with vibes, as I was working on this. I started very closely to wanderlust, but transitioned to a theme of being away from home in a sense. I say this to say, that I may have deviated from what 'Fernweh' actually means, and if I did, I did not mean any disrespect towards the word, but it was an incredible inspiration for this little fic. it's a little sad, but i had fun writing it.

This is still a first draft so I'm not gonna post to ao3 until I have time to look over it, but I wanted to share here. This has spoilers for endwalker towards the end, so beware!

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

Elidibus had suggested that Naru take some time away from her typical surroundings. Of which at the time mostly consisted of short trips back to her friend’s bar in Ul’dah and wherever the Scions were currently handling their business. She seemed ragged lately, running back and forth in efforts of things he wasn’t paying too much mind to for the moment–none of them currently posed any threat to himself. But to her, perhaps they did. 

Thus, out of a concern for her wellbeing he had suggested that she get away from it all for at least a day. But she had responded with confusion. “Where else would I even go?” It seems in her rush to be a hero she has forgotten the part of her that clearly enjoys traveling, the part of her that left her home long ago. 

And this leaves him wondering about his own nature. Is he a person who, under better circumstances, would be afflicted with the wanderlust he sees so many sundered fall ill to? The entirety of the Star’s geography is at his fingertips, but he’d be lying to say he had explored every nook and cranny of the places he has been. Usually Elidibus is a shadow on the wall drinking in words not meant for his ears, whispering words of his own to those gullible hearts ready to accept his guidance. 

And in such cases, it is not often he stops to smell the roses. The only occasions of which he can recall anything particular about his environment are usually those in which he is accompanying Naru. Her uncanny ability to make him forget his reason for being in the first place allows him to experience more than he normally might. Senses he didn’t realize were stifled are revived with new vigor; the world opens like an evening primrose blessed with moonlight.

It is for this reason, he assumes, that his fractured and fragmented mind can still hold on to particular details about places he has been with her. He recalls the offensive smell of gaudy perfumes and body odor mixing in the air of the ball he originally revealed himself to her at. He remembers the stars that gazed back at them when they moved out to the balcony. There were a few broken bricks on the wall behind them.

He’s begun to keep in mind the details of certain places in Ul’dah she had taken him around to. He’s not particularly a fan of going out in public with her, it often necessitates a change of clothes. But she had wanted to share these things with him. He recalls the grit of sand between his fingers, the voices of calling merchants annoying him, and the chill of night drawing goosebumps from his skin.

Yes, he can recall these things, and in some way he wonders if they are in part a symptom of some kind of ‘wanderlust,’ but he quickly comes to the conclusion it is not the same. These experiences were cultivated by her, and her alone. His enjoyment hinged on that–otherwise it would have all likely seemed boring and unnecessary. The only things that create a hunger for those sights is the idea of getting to experience them with her. 

None of this is of any consequence; He still believes she should take time away. Regardless of how wanderlust may or may not affect him, she is clearly better off when she is not staying in one place–or at least, not frequenting the same places over and over consistently.

However, selecting a location is not easy. She has traveled far and wide and thinking of all the places that might suit her makes it more confusing. What about somewhere with an ocean? No, she spends enough time near the oceans. What about the mountains? She may find them less interesting than another choice. Somewhere public? Too troublesome. He rattles his mind in search of somewhere they can go to be together.

He even goes so far as to visit some locations to vet their usefulness to his cause. He tries to consider things that she’s never seen. She has yet to see the icy plains of Garlemald…But that is not so interesting. There are places in Corvos she has likely yet to have traveled to, but he cannot settle on any one particular area.. He wonders about Thavnair. Though she has never been there, he imagines the atmosphere might be exciting for her. Radz-at-han is certainly too busy for him, but just outside the city may be a pleasant enough change of environment for her. 

Just outside the city he finds a beautiful expanse of nature. He assumes it’s quite invigorating to see, assumes it’s gorgeous beauty would enrapture the majority of mortals who had yet to lay eyes on it. Vibrantly colored plants and trees shelter a host of creatures native to the area, not like many Naru would have seen yet. He takes a short walk and passes through open grassland and dense jungle alike. His survey of the area is fruitful enough for his purposes, but something gnaws at the back of his mind. 

Without her here, this feels pointless.

He understands he is here with the express purpose of bringing her here later, but he is suddenly overwhelmed with the dread of knowing that none of this excites him. 

He couldn’t be bothered to look at the scenery, aside from wondering whether it will please her. 

To wander, to travel… To see new things, are these truly things that he could have enjoyed at one point? He reaches far back into his memory to claw at anything that might have resembled a version of him who would have liked this, but he comes up empty handed. If he had ever existed in such a way, he was far too twisted to recognize it. 

He feels an enormous amount of nothing.

There is an emptiness in his chest; the absence somehow feels heavy.

His stomach nearly flips as the feeling inside becomes more and more clear, his mood curdles like milk in a disgusting manner. 

He feels far away from something important. He feels like a child lost in a building, searching effortlessly for his parents in a crowd. For a second he questions where he is before he suddenly recalls and the process starts all over again. Emptiness grows and ebbs in his body until he feels lost, recalls his place both in time and in space, recalls his purpose. Repeat.

He stares out over what should be gorgeous–out over beautiful Thavnair.

He has not felt ‘wanderlust’ since the days he walked this earth as Themis somebody else, whom he cannot remember.

He is incapable of such feeling, all he wants is to return home.

[yuyupowers]

aristocrat!seonghwa

aristocrat!seonghwa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

trigger warning(s): patriarchal society mostly. let me know if there’s anything else!

author’s note: none of the pictures are mine!!

for reference, i’m using british peerage (hierarchy). there are five ranks: baron, viscount, earl (count), marquess, and duke - the highest being duke, and the lowest, baron.

second son of a duke

i imagine seonghwa to be someone who values tradition

unlike hongjoong who finds who finds the numerous aristocratic mannerisms pointless, hwa believes upholding these (rather stringent) rules is a sign of respect

perfect gentleman pt.1

excellent in swordsmanship, horse-back riding, and hunting

well versed in poetry, literature, art, and finance

(can maintain a conversation about politics but honestly it kinda goes over his head)

a bit on the shyer side, but a decent conversationalist

good at keeping the flow and mediating in case anyone becomes a little too heated about their opinions

definitely cares about his and his family’s image

naturally caring and tends to dote on those close to him

(translates into excellent manners)

holds the door open, offers his hand when stepping out of carriages, makes sure to walk on the side closest to traffic, diverts conversation when things are too “distressing,” wouldn’t be caught dead alone with a woman that wasn’t related to him or his fiancée/wife

and surprise, surprise !!

this is where you come in

you’re the second oldest daughter, fourth child out of six; born to an earl

hwa’s family had the highest title bestowed upon aristocracy

whereas your family accumulated more wealth and land than the park family

and since both you and hwa were prime marrying age™, your parents decided upon a mutually beneficial marriage

the first time you met seonghwa was under the watchful eye of both your parents, when the park’s invited your family for dinner

tbh, you were pretty relieved when you met him

“prime marrying age” was different for men, so you were just glad he wasn’t some old geezer

and he seemed like a decent person !!

a well put together gentleman, and his image was only consolidated throughout dinner

all in all, you didn’t have much to complain about from the initial impression

though it was kinda annoying when your little sister would not shut up about how he was the handsome man she’s ever met

even if you agreed

and didn’t she say that when she met woo?

anyways

after the first meeting with the park’s, both your parents set up multiple occasions for you two to meet

whether that be evening walks, picnics in the park, etc,,,

you learned a great deal about seonghwa 

how his favourite is black, how he loved the stars and that his favourite planet was mars

how he loved kids and doted on your youngest siblings (much to your sister’s glee)

how he enjoyed spending a quiet afternoon with you reading dickens, discussing afterwards the contrast between carton and darnay

how he was always considerate of your feelings and opinions

you liked to think you were a decent judge of character and thought overall that seonghwa was a kind and caring person

but you also noticed a few characteristics that-

you wouldn’t say it was off-putting or anything but,,,

it might bother you in the future

see, you were pretty good friends with hongjoong

and while you weren’t as extreme,

(you didn’t sneak out weekly to hang out with a bar maiden that you definitely did not have a crush on)

you certainly agreed with him on certain points

like hwa, you thought that abiding by certain mannerisms = display of respect

but unlike him, you didn’t care all that much about your image

okay, that was a lie.

you couldn’t say you didn’t care about your image

(social ostracization isn’t exactly fun ya feel)

but you thought it was,,,exhausting

it’s one thing to be respectful, but it’s another thing to say things you don’t mean

to fake humility

to undermine people that are supposed to be your “friends” or “one of you”

to be perfect, when “perfect” was such a subjective term anyways

it just felt so fake and that left a bitter taste in your mouth

even now, you could see all the efforts seonghwa made to constantly keep his image of a “perfect gentleman”

with perfect mannerisms and perfect answers and perfect-

yeah, it kinda frustrated you

not to mention how obedient he was?

of course you didn’t fault him for being a dutiful and filial son, but his loyalty blinded him

and it wasn’t like his parents were bad people !!

no, you’d say they were much kinder than the average noble family

especially considering their status

but when they made important decisions for their son without consulting him,

(because they were more experienced, because they knew better, etc,,,)

and he accepted whatever decision they handed to him?

well,,,

nevertheless, despite being his fiancée, you, by this point, had realistically had known seonghwa for a couple months

and you didn’t feel like it was your place 

(at least not yet)

to point this out

so the two of you continued your cordial but emotionally distant meetings

that is until “the incident” (as hwa fondly likes to call it)

okay, so-

one day you paid hwa a visit and the two of you decided to take a walk in his family’s garden

chattering about this and that

a lovely time !!

it was a bit overcast, but it didn’t look too threatening

so the two of you ignored the clouds looming in the horizon and wandered deep into the garden

big mistake

the weather took a turn for the worst, and soon it was pouring

by this point seonghwa was a little panicked

he knew that for women, getting ready could be excessively long and tenuous task

(courtesy of his little sister’s complaints)

and now !! you were getting rained on !! because he didn’t bring an umbrella !! just in case !!

!!!!

he turns to you, ready to shield you with his jacket and lead you back to the manor

but he’s at a loss by what he sees

he had expected you to be upset, to huddle closer to him, to,,,idk, maybe reprimand him for this thoughtlessness??

but instead, he finds you staring up at the dark sky, eyes shimmering with barely contained glee with the biggest smile he’s ever seen from you adorning your lips

he likes your smile

and if he was already confused (he was), he was about to become even more so

because the next thing he knows, you’re hiking your dress in one hand and grabbing his in the other, running through puddles of water and mud and everything in between, laughter falling from you like the rain

up until this point, you had been acting like the perfect (you hate that word) lady

polite, demure, charming-

in public settings, you only spoke when spoken to, with a voice that was purposely soft and soothing

you chatted with his mother and sisters about traditionally feminine things over tea with impeccable manners

whenever you two met, you were always prim and proper; never a strand of hair out of place

but here you were, getting not only yours but his clothes soggy and muddy, laughing without a care about how pleasant it sounded or how loud it was

seonghwa liked to think he wasn’t a judgemental person-

he wasn’t repulsed or anything by your sudden change in demeanor

just.

really confused

and when you looked back, you could tell,if his expression was anything to go by

but your grin only grew wider, because you could work with this

he wasn’t enjoying himself per say; a bit too confused and bit too stiff to do so

but he wasn’t horrified or disgusted

okay maybe he was a little grossed out; he liked to be clean thank you very much

you could work with this.

and so over the next few months, you showed him things he never dreamed of doing

some of which he liked, some of which he didn’t

some he was willing to try, some, less

like sneaking into the restricted section of the library (he’s never been so scandalized in his life)

or visiting the kitchen in the middle of the night so you could teach him how to make some basic recipes (which he surprisingly enjoyed)

or meeting hongjoong

(“of COURSE it matters if they got the colour wrong?! lord help me you’re the most insufferable person i’ve ever met-”)

and the more the two of you explored, the more he,,,real he became.

and vice versa.

gradually, the mask of perfection he worked so on hard to maintain was slipping before you

don’t get me wrong, he’s still kind and caring and a gentleman

but sometimes he would whine and complain when you encouraged him to do something he was less than enthusiastic about (usually something that involved getting him messy)

or he made The Face™ (the disgusted one) to you and when he didn’t like something or someone

or he would be stupidly stubborn about some random fact that you KNEW was wrong but he just WOULDN’T admit if even when you showed him proof

(“seonghwa for the last time toads don’t give you war-” “LALALA I CAN’T HEAR YOU” “eye-”)

once, he even playfully stole the strawberry from your cake

(big mistake. he’s never doing that again. he never knew a woman could move so fast or be so scary.)

it made you so, so happy because the two of you were finally getting to know each other

actually know each other

then one day, while the two of you were reading underneath a tree at the park

“,,,hey love?” (hwa)

“yes?”

“why are we doing this?” 

“what do you mean, dear?”

“i mean,,,i’m not complaining, but i guess,,,why did you decide to show me this part of you? the part that runs around in the rain?” hwa

you don’t reply right away

instead, you shut your book and idly stared at the willow swaying over the pond, wind running its fingers through its drooping leaves

after a few moments of silence

“,,,i wanted to know you and what you believed in. actually believed in.”

seonghwa tilts his head slightly to the side

“love, i hardly think my convictions have changed”

“but do you know what your convictions are?”

and you know when you hear something that resonates with you?

something that strikes deep in your core and makes you rethink everything you’ve know?

yeah,,,this is one of those moments

now it was seonghwa’s turn to set his book aside, falling deep in thought

after an unnaturally long stretch of silence, you began to panic a little

because ?? maybe you misread the situation and got a little too comfortable-

cause i mean you were questioning his core values, which is something he takes very seriously

o god you messed up didn’t you o crap you need to apolog-

“will you help me figure it out?”

“,,,huh??”

“will you help me figure out my convictions?” he asked

and you swear, you’ve never seen such a smile from seonghwa

one that conveyed a plethora of emotions, ranging from honesty and vulnerability, to confusion and loss, to lightness and warmth

it filled you with an unnameable feeling

like something sliding into place, fitting perfectly; like it was always meant to be there, filling you with comfort

shyly intertwining your hands for the first time, you looked up to meet his gaze with a pattering heart and a smile matching his own

“,,,of course.”

[babymetaldoll]

The morning after (Spilling drinks on my settee part 2) Spencer Reid/Reader

Requested: Yes! it’s my first request! thank you, anon!! 

Prompt: Hungover Spencer has to face Reader after she caught him drunk, puking outside her house. He also has to face Morgan’s teasing after he confessed he was in love with Reader.

Pairing: Spencer/Reader 

Warnings: none 

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,9K 

Part one here

Masterlist 

.

If it had been up to Spencer, he would have never left his bed that day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the headache that hit him made him realize that was going to be a long day. A long and shitty day. 

He sat on his bed slowly ‘cos the whole room was spinning. He was still fully dressed, why? There was puke on his shoes and pants… and a Gatorade on his nightstand? He was confused, he didn’t leave that there, right? no… maybe? he didn’t really remember. Why was he still dressed? he didn’t remember. How did he get home? he didn’t remember

- “Shit!”

Until he did. 

There was a flash of embarrassment, guilt, and nausea on his face, suddenly it was all coming back. 

- “Shit!”

That was the only word Spencer could use. He had gotten drunk, confessed to Morgan he was in love with (Y/N), he had actually tried to…

- “Shit!”

Maybe alcohol had managed to unplug a part of Reid’s brain, ‘cos apparently, “shit” was the only thing he was able to pronounce, at least for a few minutes.  

All the embarrassing memories of the night before kept coming back to his mind, they were fragments of someone else’s life he was watching from outside. It was all too humiliating. (Y/N) saw him puking outside her house. He was outside her house ‘cos he wanted to know why she had been out on a date with a guy from a dating website. He had told Morgan he loved her, and nearly cried. 

Spencer Walter Reid was doomed, and he knew it. It was going to take a lot of courage, patience, and Gatorade to go through that day. 

His cellphone kept buzzing, but once he realized it wasn’t a case, but (Y/N) and Morgan trying to reach him, he ignored it the whole subway ride to work. He couldn’t even read, his brain wasn’t working, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He just wanted to disappear forever. What had he done? how could he ever face (Y/N) after what happened? And what if Morgan had already told everyone what happened? of course he had, Reid thought, and his red cheeks were now purple. 

Humiliation was written across his face and his stomach tightened as he set foot into the bullpen. He took a quick look around and sighed relieved. Apparently, there was no one else there yet, the whole place seemed empty, although there was a fresh cup of coffee with extra sugar on his desk, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. 

That could only mean one thing. 

- “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”- Spencer froze in panic and turned around very, very slowly. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure (Y/N) could listen to it. She was waving at him with a shy smile on her face. She didn’t look mad, or uncomfortable. She looked… worried. 

- “H… he… hey, (Y/N)-” he stuttered and waved. He knew he had to say something- anything- but nothing seemed to come to mind. He was literally speechless. 

- “How are you feeling?”

- “G… g… good, I’m good, I’m ok”- Spencer wanted to slap himself. He was humiliated already, but his behavior wasn’t making it any better. He had to put his shit together somehow.

- “I’m glad”- she sighed relieved, rubbing his arm sweetly, and her touch made him shiver right away. He tried to smile at her, but he was left speechless again. It was a painful scene to see. 

- “I was worried sick, you didn’t pick up your phone earlier”- Reid just nodded and looked down.

- “I got you the best recipe to cure your hangover, coffee of course, and I filled half the cup with sugar, just the way you like it”- the way (Y/N) stuck out her tongue and giggled, hypnotized him.

- “I made you a grilled cheese sandwich, I don't know how many times you've woken up feeling like shit after a party, but I'm pretty sure I’ve got a lot more experience than you, and greasy food always helps me coming back to life.”

Spencer nodded, trying to follow the conversation, but his brain was still malfunctioning and his head was pounding sharp and heavy. 

- “And your favorite donut 'cos you need extra sugar”

- “Thanks”- his voice was a sweet whisper. (Y/N) looked at him worried and rubbed a hand on his arm gently again.

- “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck happened last night?”- the painful grimace on Spencer's face was enough.

- “I'm just worried something bad happened to you “

- “No, no, no”- he shook his head frenetically and regretted the movement immediately. His head was killing him- “I just couldn't handle my drinks, that's all.”

- “Are you sure?”- lying to profilers could be the hardest thing on earth.

- “Yeah, yeah”

- “Good, I was worried you were going to call in sick…”- there was a short silence between them, they just stared at each other and sighed. 

(Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking he had called her “Buttercup” and didn’t know how to ask him to do it again, and again, every day. And Reid had no idea what to do next. So he just said the first thing that came to mind.  

- “Did you know hangovers are estimated to cost $148 billion each year due to hangover individuals calling in sick to work or performing poorly on the job.”  

- “Pretty boy!!”

Derek’s voice walking over them made Spencer’s heart stop in fear, he just waved at his friend with his less expressive smile - the one (Y/N) called “frog face”- and just prayed to whatever god that might exist, that Morgan wouldn’t embarrass him more than he was already. 

- “How are you feeling today, kid?”

- “I’m ok, thanks” 

- “You are lucky there’s no case, yet”- Dr. Reid nodded and looked around, trying to find a way to run away from Morgan and (Y/N). 

- “Nice breakfast”

- “I thought he was going to need extra energy today”- the young woman smiled proudly- “And when are you going to explain to me what happened last night? why did you let him get that drunk?”

Morgan knew (Y/N) was going to be mad at him, so he just looked at Spencer and waited to see if he had made up any lie already 

- “I… I told you, I just couldn’t keep up with Derek”

- “Yeah”- his friend immediately supported his lie. Which wasn’t a complete lie- “I pushed Reid to drink at my pace, and I guess pretty boy ain’t ready to drink like a man.”

On a regular day, Spencer would have hated that last comment, ‘cos he was sick and tired of his friend treating him like a toddler. But under those circumstances, he just nodded and tried to stay calm. 

- “And why were you outside my house?” 

- “We were looking for a cab, started walking… and Reid remembered you live close to the bar”- Spencer’s eyes opened wide at those words- “And he wanted to stop by.”

- “No I didn’t”- Reid knew he would lose in a fight with Derek, but he was willing to give it a try and punch him if that successfully stopped him from talking.  

- “Kid, you were drunk, you don’t remember, but you wanted to stop by and see (Y/N)”- the girl looked at Reid and bit her lips

- “Is that so? you got drunk and started thinking of me?”

Spencer couldn’t speak. He felt his hands shaking, so he hid them in his pockets and tried to come up with anything, literally anything to say. But he had nothing.  

- “Yes, pretty boy wanted to see you…”- Morgan just smiled, tapped on Spencer’s back, and walked away chuckling. He knew Reid needed a push to open up to (Y/N). Maybe this was what he needed. 

- “Why did you think of me?”- (Y/N) was now intrigued and excited. Drunk Reid was a whole new side of her friend, and the fact he had dragged Derek to her house when he was intoxicated gave her a little hope. Maybe he liked her too, the way she was head over feet for him.

- “I…”- Spencer was chocking with words, he turned around, grabbed the coffee, and took a sip of it. 

- “You?”

- “I don’t remember”- disappointment was written all over (Y/N)’s face. They just stared. Spencer drank his coffee and the girl simply sighed. 

- “I see”- he could read there was something there, but he didn’t want to get his hopes high. He was sure (Y/N) could never feel the same way he did. Right?

- “Can I ask you something?”- he whispered- “Why didn’t you tell me about the dating website?”

Now (Y/N) was embarrassed. She couldn’t take her eyes from her friend’s as she kept thinking about what to say. How to lie? 

- “It wasn’t important, Prentiss forced me, I didn’t want to do it”- she simply confessed and smiled- “Why?” 

- “I don’t know, it was weird, I thought… well…”

- “You know I tell you everything important”- (Y/N) wanted to make sure Spencer understood that the date had meant nothing. 

- “And… are you planning to do it again?”

- “Never”- the smile on her lips was so honest, Spencer’s heart was relieved- “So, tomorrow’s Saturday, got any plan?”- those words, they were music for his ears. 

- “Actually, there is a Russian horror movie festival tomorrow night, they’ll be showing Solaris, Viy, and Lyumi”

- “Original Russian, I presume”

- “But this time I’m pretty sure there will be subtitles”- (Y/N) pouted disappointed.

- “Bummer, I like when you have to translate the whole movie for me”- and she meant it, having Reid whispering every word in her ear for two hours was the closest she had been to heaven in her entire life. The young doctor chuckled with a huge grin and turned to his desk again. 

- “Usually, translation doesn’t represent the intention behind the dialog…”- Reid was full of it and he knew it, but he had nothing to lose and lot to win- “So if you want, I can still whisper the English version for you”.

Those last words left his lips as quickly as possible, ‘cos he was embarrassed. 

- “Then it’s a date”- her smile was bigger than imagined when she turned around and started walking to her desk. 

Was it a date? why did she say that? Reid tried to stay cool and not overthink everything, but it was Reid, which meant it was hard, nearly impossible. Overthinking was his thing. 

He wanted to go out on a date with (Y/N), but… was that actually a date? what if he brought flowers for her and she didn’t mean “date” as a date but just as two friends going out together? that would be mortifying. 

(Y/N) didn’t know if Spencer had thought she wanted it to be a real date. She did, she just didn’t know if she was asking or if he had or… 

Yes, they were both excellent overthinkers. 

- “Hey, honey”- if she was already embarrassed and anxious about using the word “date”, she could always make it worst.

Spencer turned to look at her he took a bite of his sandwich. 

- “It was really sweet last night when you called me Buttercup”- Reid nearly choked. He had completely forgotten about it, and suddenly he felt the urge to run and hide. But he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t even swallow the food he was chewing 

- “You had never called me by a nickname before…”- she bit her lips and took a deep breath- “I loved it… in case you want to use it again.”

Spencer nodded and watched his best friend walk away to get herself a coffee. He could feel someone else’s eyes on him from across the office. Morgan winked at him and nodded. 

- “Nice, kid”

.

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Let’s talk about ‘Friends’ by BTS

by Admin 1

Friends is the subunit song by Jimin and Taehyung (co-written and co-produced by Jimin) from Map of the Soul : 7 which was released in February 2020. Interestingly enough, the Korean title is actually 친구, a word that is only used for friends of the same age, which is how ARMY figured out that it had to be their subunit prior to the release of the album.

On a very surface level, Friends is about the bond between Jimin and Taehyung recounting different little stories over the years, including the now famous dumpling incident which was first presented to us as a conflict that merely took up a few hours. Actually though it was a conflict that grew big enough that Jimin and Taehyung barely spoke to each other for two weeks and it culminated in Jimin getting drunk with Yoongi and then meeting Taehyung at a park at 4 am to make up. Yes, the same park at 4 am that Taehyung and Namjoon sing about in 4 O’Clock. That song, like many suspected, really was about Jimin and Taehyung as well.

But, while Friends might seem simple and fun on the outside, especially due to the upbeat melody and anthem like chorus, I think there is far more to it than meets the eye. Stella Jang, who co-wrote the lyrics, said in an interview with K-Pop Herald that BigHit sent her an email which contained the song as well as long stories about Jimin’s and Taehyung’s bond and based on that she was supposed to write short lyrics. She also had a friend, who is an ARMY, help her truly understand the depth of their bond. That alone to me shows that this goes far deeper than most might assume, and others wish for it.

Hello my alien We’re each other’s mystery Would it be why it’s more special

This verse for me is very interesting, especially since Jimin reclaims a nickname that people used to call Taehyung by which he hated. Instead Jimin turned it into something endearing, something that now belongs to them instead of others. It’s also noteworthy that that specific line is in English, not Korean, and he says my alien, so basically telling the listener that he takes some kind of claim over Taehyung, connects them in a way that anyone would understand, and unmistakably highlights that he’s the only one to call him like this because Taehyung is special to him, much the way you’d call someone dear to you/someone you love by an endearment such as ‘my darling’ or ‘my love’. 

More below the cut:

The mystery part could refer to the early days of their friendship, the times when they were just getting to know each other and trying to figure out their dynamic and each other in a more general sense. We know they almost instantly became friends, stuck to each other and spent a lot of time together, despite constantly getting in little fights, but perhaps those struggles were what made the end result that much more special to them. Interesting to note is also how Jimin once said that when he saw Tae for the first time he experienced many different emotions (he didn’t specify which ones though), and how to this day he remembers Tae only wearing those red shorts and snapback and how even then he already looked like an idol/celebrity. 

But the line could also refer to something more recent, or something more overarching, like a secret about themselves that only they know about, that they share and guard together.

Someday, when these cheers die down, stay hey Stay with me by my side Forever, keep staying here, hey

and

Someday, when these cheers die down, stay hey You are my soulmate Forever, keep staying here, hey You are my soulmate

These two might just be the most important parts of the song, and the ones that seem to be the hardest to swallow for some. This is basically Jimin and Taehyung asking each other to stay together forever, even when (or especially when) their careers will be over and BTS won’t be such a main and overarching reason for them to stay by each other anymore, so to speak. It implies that what they have is something they want to last forever, that it reaches far beyond them just being two best friends inside a group, but that they are rather two people who found ‘their person’ in each other. They know they’ve found something one of a kind, once in a lifetime, and want to hold on to it, to each other. It’s also them proclaiming and reminding everyone once again that they are soulmates, that this isn’t just something ARMY made up, some shipping agenda or anything like it, but that it is truly the title they see most fit for each other, that it basically feels like their bond was destiny and they were always meant to be together. You are my soulmate is also in English, something that every listener will understand, something so important they specifically made it this way so you wouldn’t need to look up translations from Korean to get it.

Sidenote--somehow soulmate has become a very debated term in connection to vmin so lets look at the definition for soulmate that wikipedia gives us: A soulmate is a person with whom one has a feeling of deep or natural affinity. This may involve similarity, love, romance, platonic relationships, comfort, intimacy, sexuality, sexual activity, spirituality, compatibility and trust. Most of these are rather connected to the most traditional way in which people imagine soulmates, as in two people destined for each other, lovers perfect for one another. Of course there are friendship type soulmates, but those are far more rare in peoples minds. The point I’m getting at is that Jimin and Taehyung never defined which type of soulmate they are, and until I saw non-vminies have a fight about how they’re definitely just platonic ones, I never even really saw the word soulmate in connection with ‘platonic’. In a way you could argue that both sides are right, that they are both friendship soulmates but also romantic ones as well, their bond encompassing both. But in the end, of course, that’s something only they can confirm yet I thought I’ll mention it anyway.

Like your pinky, we’re still the same I know your everything We must trust each other Don’t forget Instead of an obvious thank-you, you and I — let’s promise that we won’t fight tomorrow, for real

These lines may seem so simple, short and sweet, but I think there is a lot of meaning to them, a lot that’s written between the lines and potentially only something they understand the true extent of. I know your everything is another reminder that they are each others secret keepers, each others closest confidants, their person to go to and laugh or cry or celebrate with. Jimin and Taehyung have something that is rare, one of a kind, and it’s something beautiful that should be regarded with respect and wonder since it’s close to a miracle that they met and formed their bond in such a manner. After all Jimin is from Busan and Taehyung from Daegu, chances are, if BTS hadn’t happened, they might’ve never met, though looking at everything BTS have said about each other, they seem to believe they were all destined to meet regardless if as members of BTS or as normal people. The same most likely would’ve also have been the case for Jimin and Taehyung, and Friends is a beautiful piece of proof of that.

Many dismiss Friends as just a song about their friendship, but I think once you truly think about the lyrics and the thoughts that must’ve gone into it, you might change your mind. Even more so when you take into account what Namjoon said about Friends in his MOTS:7 vlive, how he wouldn’t even dare try writing any of the lyrics because he could never, ever do them justice, and how just thinking about the bond Taehyung and Jimin have, he gets goosebumps. That alone already says a lot, implies a lot of different things, very deep and (in my opinion) potentially more than just friends type things. There was also a moment during Bon Voyage 3 in Malta where Namjoon and Seokjin were at a restaurant together and somehow they brought up Taehyung and Jimin and both just shook their heads at how they are just--something, something apparently meaningful enough neither dared to voice it.

Friends might not be something you’d call a traditionally romantic or love song by any means, at least sound wise, but I’d argue the lyrics tell a completely different story, one of a bond that binds two souls, that combines friendship and love (both the love you have for a cherished friend, but also the one you feel for a romantic partner, I’d argue). The song, as well as 4 O’Clock are far more than meets the eye, you just have to be open and willing enough to see it.

After all Taehyung did say: “95z is love.” The biggest clue of them all.

(Lyric snippets taken from 친구 (Friends))

[ignisnocturnalia]

Variks x Reader Relationship HC's

Gonna write you as a new light, apologies my God-slaying siblings

News of the Pyramids over Europa reaches far and wide, as does stasis

With this discovery, relayed by a veteran guardian, also reveals news of the Eliksni who instigated the riot at the Prison of Elders

Being freshly revived, there's not much you can make out of the hostility the other Guardians offer the alien

Curious about him, you make a bold request to be stationed on Europa to "monitor" him

Of course, Zavala denies your request and speaks of how important your guns would be here at home

While you say you understand, you're secretly trying to find your way around it

The Drifter

You heard about his escapades to the frozen planet, reasons unknown, but still able to slip through Vanguard sanctions

As usual, a Guardian siding with the Vanguard approaching you with a purpose usually isn't a good thing

"Somethin' you want, kid?"

His tone is carefully jovial, bordering neutral, but you're not foolish enough to think he actually trusts you

"I need to get to Europa."

He stares at you for a solid minute before sizing you up, an inquisitive glare settling on his face

"What's in it for me?"

Having been on Strike detail for months on end, you've got a sweet heap of glimmer and nothing to use it on; you know he doesn't care a lot for the currency, so you offer up your weapons alongside it

He gives you a lopsided grin as he takes the arsenal, waving off the glimmer and taking you to his ramshackle ship

Unsurprisingly, it's a quiet ride, your own Ghost unsure of your actions

Drifter gives you little warning before transmitting you off the ship, leaving you to fall flat on your ass in the deep snow

Despite being a little upset about this, you finally see your goal, the very Eliskni that brought new questions to the ice planet

Every step you take lands your foot in a fluffy sheet of snow, sounding out with a crunch you had never heard before

Soon enough, you've completely deviated from the reason you came to the planet, completely obsessed with the snow under you

The entire time, Variks has been watching you from the window of his base making a fool of yourself

Distantly, he realizes that he thinks you're cute like that

"Here to help, yes?"

You are COMPLETELY caught off guard, turning quickly on your heel before slipping on the ice and landing flat on your ass

A shadow falls over you as you look up to see the well spoken Eliksni towering over you, and you're immensely thankful for the helmet hiding your blush

He offers you one of his real hands, helping you up and you can't help but notice how his hunched form is hiding a solid 8" from his height

Bringing you inside, you slowly decompress from the outside chill and Variks formally introduces himself

You quickly take note of how each of his sentences are punctuated by insect noises, which are quite fun to hear

You explain your circumstances and even though you can only see his eyes, you can feel the confusion in the air

"You left the Tower.. to see me? Variks does not know who you are; you do not know Variks, yes?"

You're slightly disappointed but not surprised by his suspicious behavior, after seeing how other Guardians harped about him

You then remember something very important

"I don't have a ship to get back."

Your ship still sat in the Hangar, locked down until it was needed for use

Variks stood in front of you quietly before also noticing something unusual about you; your weapons were missing

"Stay. I will contact your Commander."

You immediately spring from your seated position, grabbing at his shoulder before he can reach the comms

He seems to understand your plead

You spend the next few days eating freeze dried food, along with MRE's supplied by another curious party on Europa

Variks doesn't join you until he's finished eating in another room, and the conversations you can strike up are limited

You ask him to teach you Eliksni

He appears shocked at first but eagerly obliges, now showing up to eat with you

It's been a good couple of weeks, and you've got a few phrases and words under your belt

Nothing translates directly, everything is interpreted based on the small word choice

Variks didn't know, but you had spent the last 3 days trying to figure out what the closest thing to "I love you" was in Eliksni

That night, when you both settle down to eat, you eye Variks with a renewed purpose

The fuzz in your brain dissipates as, astoundingly, he moves to take off his mouth cover

You can't help but stare at his revealed face not noticing how he fidgets a bit under your intense stare

"Apologies, (y/n). I did not mean to ruin your appetite."

It was now or never

Moving over to sit next to him, you shyly looked up to see he had yet to put the mask back on, instead looking at you with uncertainty

"Yu ne ze." You are my gift. I love you.

The Eliksni's eyes widen and his body stiffens and you worry for a second that you've made a mistake before he turns fully and leans into your face

"Ma yun ne."

His mandibles are often used to caress your face

You find yourself with gifts and trinkets waiting in your small room in the base

He has you spot check his weapons, testing them out and generally having a blast with them

Other Guardians have seen you on occasion, but very few have approached you to ask questions about the mysterious Eliksni

Variks loves it when you hold his hands, even more so when you pet his face

When you find out he can purr, it's one of the most sought after sounds during your intimate moments, and sometimes he will purr simply to indulge you

Even if you're an undead warrior, Variks still piles furs on to your shoulders to make sure you don't get cold during outings

You have had to fend off assassins, often at the cost of your life

This pushes you to accept the deceptive whispers of the Pyramid, carrying you all the way to the Exo Stranger's den

She reluctantly agrees to teach you because of your inexperience, and although neither of you say anything, you and Drifter make quick eye contact

Variks can smell the Darkness on you and is very disappointed, but he doesn't tip off that he knows

Instead, he uses it as an excuse to put you under house arrest

He catalogues every single symptom you have that could barely begin to resemble a sickness, encouraging you to stay inside until you're better

During the nights, you notice he holds you much more tightly against his body

You apologize for your zealousness regarding his safety

Your lessons in Eliksni continue, and soon enough you can hold your own in small conversations with him

Whenever you or Variks look at each other trying to figure something out, you both always ask about the question in your mind

Whoever is asked ends up sitting in the other's lap, but you've found that it's much more convenient to sit in his own

This exploration leads to daily petting or grooming sessions, giving way for more risque activity to take place

Nsfw 👁👄👁

Variks orients himself as a switch, but you can tell he enjoys being on the bottom a little more if his rapid breaths are anything to go by

Brushing and lightly scratching segments on his exoskeleton are immense green lights for him, especially adding just enough force to push into the seams between his limbs

He's very gentle with his teeth, but the red marks he leaves on your body are generous from the amount of fondling he carries out

He's perfectly fine with both of you being bare, so long as a heat source is nearby

This level of exposure allows you to feel every rumble, trill, and moan straight from his chest and you can't deny just how hot it is to have an entire alien making these noises because of you

He delivers plenty of foreplay, always giving you the option to back out of it

With your size difference, you have to work to move up and down his body when you're both laying down

One of his favorite things is when you drag your teeth along his neck or chest, no real threat of harm but an undeniable thrill for him

He may start slow, but towards the end? You're better off simply letting him take care of you the next day

Fluff

After particularly tedious days, you will pull him into your shared room and pepper his face with kisses

Whenever he wants to nap, he selectively chooses your lap so you can massage his back or his forehead

Following the official announcement of your relationship, Zavala finally submits and gives you full permission to stay stationed on Europa, at the price of lengthy field reports at the beginning of every month

Variks, of course, teases you while writing these papers

He'll correct a mistake you made way back in the paper, laughing quietly in the back of his throat as you fume at the obvious inaccuracy

Besides Vanguard papers, you've taken it upon yourself to make him a new arm

You decide to gift it to him once the Dawning starts

Note: I leave some of my handcanons open ended for more ideas, and yes, I am aware they are more like one shot/hc hybrids, but hey, take it as an invitation to ask me to actually write out the whole thing. I will not write out explicit nsfw unless asked, and if I am asked, it will always be gratuitous and extremely detailed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Finals are eating my timbs tho, so I'm currently attempting to study for these hellspawn

[apocalypseornaw]

About Time

*Not my Gif* Sam finally admits he's in love with you. (Some nsfw)

The day Sam met you was a trial by fire sort of thing. Him and Dean needed a couple extra hands on a hunt so Bobby had sent you and your cousin their way. Your cousin was only a couple years older than Dean so the two of them teamed up leaving you with Sam. He was impressed from the start because you managed to finesse the local fuzz in a way that Dean wouldn't even be able to. 

On the hunt itself you held your own against the nest of vamps and ended up even carrying one of the more injured victims out yourself. Your cousin just shook her head when him and Dean told you they could've went back for the girl "She thinks she's wonder woman. I swear this girl is either gonna be the death of me or end up ruling hell" Dean bought you a beer afterwards, Sam was hooked.

Over the years you kept in contact with Sam and Dean then when your cousin died you ended up starting to hunt more often with them and eventually took their offer of a bedroom in the bunker. You and Dean had quickly become best friends, same as you and Cas. Sam had been harboring feelings for you for years that only got worse living in close quarters with you.

------

You'd been living in the bunker for a couple months when one morning Sam got back from his run to overhear you talking to Dean in the kitchen "Dean either he doesn't look at me like that or he is the most oblivious man on the face of this earth" you'd recently split from a guy you'd been seeing off and on so he didn't want to get his hopes up until Dean said "That's where it helps having the guy who's known him since birth on your side sweetheart and standford or no standford Sammy doesn't really take subtle well. Just tell him how you feel because I've listened to him talk about you for years. I've heard him cuss every guy you've ever dated. He feels the same"

He headed to his room to act as if he hadn't heard any of the conversation. When he walked into the library after a shower you were sitting at one of the long tables looking over a lore book and glanced up when he walked in "Hey Sam" he smiled "Good morning Y/N. Where's Dean this early?" you held up a half of a glass of orange juice "It was his turn to go on a supply run and we're out of coffee" 

He walked over to sit down next to you and tilted the book you were reading to see the front of it "Enochian?" You shrugged "Figured it'd come in handy if I could translate at least a few words if Cas wasn't around?" "That's smart" he said with a smile and realized just how close he was sitting to you when you moved to face him and your hair brushed his shoulder "Sam, can I ask you something?" your eyes widening told him you hadn't realized the close proximity either "Of course" he held your gaze and watched you nip at the tip of your thumb which was something you did when you were nervous no matter how rare that situation was "Do you wanna go out with me?"

He reached to pull your hand away from your mouth and smiled when you tracked his movements with your eyes "I'd love to"

-------

That friday you and Sam headed out to a local bar that Dean said served decent enough food. Hell Dean had even let you take baby out which was a rare thing indeed.

You walked into the bar behind Sam and smiled when he reached back to grab your hand "C'mon sweetheart" he pulled you towards a booth in the corner. You slid in first and he slid in after you. You glanced around and saw that a live band was setting up, the bar itself looked clean and with a normal enough crowd. 

After the waitress took your order Sam turned towards you "Why are we nervous? We've known each other for years" You shrugged "I don't know. Maybe we should go ahead and kiss and get that out of the way?" he laughed lightly then said "That actually sounds like a good idea" you leaned up to touch your lips against his in a quick kiss that quickly deepened when he pulled you into his lap. Your hands went to his shoulders to steady yourself when you felt his tongue flick across your lips asking for entrance so you opened your mouth slightly and had to stifle a moan when you felt his tongue slide into your mouth moving against yours. 

His hands slipped under your shirt and a low moan escaped you at the feeling of his hands on your skin. The waitress clearing her throat broke the two of you apart. You never broke eye contact with Sam when you threw a twenty down and said "That'll pay for the drinks, cancel our food please" she simply took the money and walked away with a laugh. 

You climbed out of his lap then grabbed his hand "Suddenly I'm not hungry, how about you?" His eyes ran across your body before he finally said "Not for food"

-------

The ride back to the bunker felt longer than it ever been. You were trying not to distract Sam but god you'd finally felt his lips on yours and was wondering what they would feel like on other body parts.

About halfway back he finally pulled off the road and killed the lights. When you shot him a look he raised an eyebrow "Come here" you quickly straddled his lap feeling how hard he already was underneath you. "Do you want to wait until we get back?" He asked kissing your neck and down to your collarbone pushing your shirt down further to give him access to more skin. "Who says we can't have another round once we get to a bed?"

He chuckled against your skin "I like that answer" he moved his hands to the seam of your shirt and you moved to let him pull it over your head. "I've wanted this for a long time" he whispered letting his tongue run across the top of your bared breasts. You let your head fall back with a moan as he sucked gently on the skin there. "Sam, is there enough room?" he glanced up at you and you realized your choice of words "I mean in the front seat?"

He thought about it for a moment then pulled back "Get in the back" you climbed off his lap and climbed across the seat while he stepped out then opened the back door to climb in with you. You laid back on the seat and curled your finger at him "Come here Winchester" he pulled his shirt over his head then climbed up you leaving a trail of kisses on every inch of exposed skin. When he got to your mouth the kiss was hungry but gentle. He rolled his hips against your and a groan left his lips when you moaned at the movement. "We really need these jeans off" you laughed so he leaned back up far enough to help you slip off your jeans and boots then kicked his own off.

He spread your legs then licked his lips "God you're beautiful" you felt a slight wave of embarrassment at being completely bared and must have moved to cover yourself because he caught both of your hands in one of his "Nope, I want to see every inch of you baby" there was soo much sincerity in his voice you relaxed and he smiled "Now lay back. If I do anything you don't like tell me ok?" You nodded and he lowered his head leaving kisses up your left leg until he got to where you needed the most attention "Sam" you moaned when he licked into you curling his tongue up against that sensitive spot.

You could feel an orgasm building and gripped his hair as your breathing quickened. He added two fingers in with his tongue and that was all it took. You came with a moan of his name on your lips. He worked you through the orgasm then kissed his way back up your body. When he got to your lips he caught your mouth in a hard kiss allowing you to taste yourself on him "Please fuck me Sam" you moaned and he smiled against your lips "Yes ma'am"

When he slid into you, you bit your lip against the stretch. Once he was fully inside of you he stilled letting you adjust to him. "Are you ok?" he asked kissing your neck and chest. You nodded after a moment and tapped his hips "Move Sam" he started to roll his hips against yours every movement rubbing against that spot deep inside of you "God damn Sam" you moaned and he laughed "I'll take that as a compliment" you knew from the angle and pace he wouldn't be able to come easily so after a few moments you urged him "You can go harder Sam you won't hurt me"

He started to thrust harder and you felt your eyes roll back as that building pressure burst again. "Fuck Y/N you're so damn beautiful taking me like that baby. Ugh you're squeezing me hard enough I can barely move" he groaned biting down on your breast hard enough you knew there'd be a mark there come morning. "Sam oh fuck please tell me you're close" you begged and he nodded hitting even deeper inside of you.

When you felt his hips shudder you knew he was close. "I'm close baby" he whispered and you gripped his shoulders when you felt him come emptying inside of you. He thrust a few more times before collapsing against you moving just enough to make sure you could breath fine. "Fuck why did we wait so long to do that?" you asked with a laugh kissing his tattoo since it was closest to your lips. "I don't know but I look forward to doing it again" "And again?" you asked pulling him to you for a kiss.

-------

Luckily Dean was asleep by the time you two got back so he didn't see both of you come in carrying your shoes, Sam only wearing jeans and you wearing Sam's shirt. You dropped your pile of clothes in your room then headed to Sam's room with him. The night was far from over.

------

A couple weeks later Dean and Cas had ran into town to grab supplies so you were sitting at one of the tables in the library looking over news articles to make sure there was nothing near by that needed attention. Sam stood there watching you for the longest, your hair was falling out of your bun and you were chewing on the end of your pen. He'd never seen a more beautiful sight.  You glanced up after a moment and grinned "I'm literally your wallpaper on your phone so if you wanna stare you have pictures"

"I love you Y/N" he said so easily and didn't even think twice about it until your smile fell. "I um I mean it's ok if you don't feel the same. I just wanted to tell you" but you cut him off by grabbing his hand to pull him closer "Sam! calm down" when he finally stopped talking you laughed "I love you too. I have for a while"

You heard clapping and looked up to see Dean at the bottom of the steps "About damn time" Cas looked around him "I tried to get him to not eavesdrop" you laughed again "Don't worry Cas I'm used to it"

[appleteeth]

Bruce Week Fic #6

Sunday (July 25): Grief, Magic

(Warnings for mentions of domestic and child abuse.)

It was funny, being friends with someone who knew magic. Loki had somehow, after everything they had been through, become one of Bruce’s closest confidant on board the spaceship taking them to Earth. First they would merely nod at one-another in quiet respect, then Loki stopped Bruce in the corridor one day to explain how something seemingly innocuous he had done was actually offensive in Asgardian culture and Bruce, though wary he was tricking him, thanked him. 

Then Bruce would make a habit of finding Loki in the makeshift dining hall and sitting with him, not exactly striking up conversation but letting him know they could talk, if he wanted to. 

A few months into the journey and Loki was spotted laughing loudly at something Bruce had said, and whilst it made Thor a little nervous to see them getting along so well, it was also a relief. They were both part of his Royal Council, after all, so they needed to get along for the sake of his people. 

Then, when Bruce moaned to himself about being unable to find what he needed in the cramped medical bay, Loki produced the vial out of thin air and handed it to him. 

“That still freaks me out,” Bruce told him before taking the vial tentatively. 

“I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t,” he said with a smirk.

“How does it work? Are you pulling items from somewhere else? Are you taught how to use magic or is it instinctual? Could I learn magic or is it an Asgardian thing?”

“No, I was taught by my mother and yes… to an extent. You wouldn’t be able to conjure items or control objects but you can learn basic spells.”

Bruce was excited for barely a second before he frowned. “Are you messing with me again?”

“Bruce, I have come to find you… relatively welcome company. I enjoy our conversations, even if you are a Midgardian.”

“Bit prejudiced, but thank you.”

“So I’m not messing with you,” Loki concluded. “I can give you some basic spells to try that will give you more insight into your being.”

“I, uh, think I’ve had enough insight lately," he said warily. 

And Loki smiled, this time without a mischievous glint in his eye. 

"What if I were to teach you a spell that helped you in ways you never knew you needed?"

Bruce snuck into the medical bay late into the evening whilst the rest of the ship went to sleep. It was the one place he knew he wouldn't be disturbed, especially as Asgardians were so resilient to injury, they barely came to him with less than a severed limb. 

He read through the instructions Loki had written in elaborate cursive, mostly in English but certain words wouldn't translate so he had to work through how to pronounce them before starting. It was oddly pleasant following the instructions step by step, like he was trying out a new recipe, only this was more writing specific phrases in runes than measuring out ingredients. 

He had to write the words as naturally as possible, like he had been writing in the language his entire life, recite them outloud and then… go to sleep. Which was easier said than done when he was expecting something miraculous to happen. He crept back into his shared dorm with seven other passengers and lay down, hoping that whatever was supposed to happen would actually help him.

He finally drifted off and there he found himself travelling, not sure what he was facing was a dream or effects of the spell, but welcoming it nonetheless. 

He was standing in an old-fashioned kitchen, meticulously clean down to the top of the cabinets where nobody would ever bother to look. Whoever's domain this was, it was so well looked after it could very well be a showroom. 

There were a few signs of life, however. There was a small stack of plates ready to be cleaned, a few novelty magnets on the refrigerator, a Captain America action figure on the table…

Bruce stopped, looking at the toy and realising where he was. He had spent so long trying to forget his childhood home he didn't even recognise the kitchen anymore. But he knew that toy like it was imprinted on his mind, having spent many hours clutching it, talking to it, wishing the real Cap was there to save him.

"I'm so sorry I kept you waiting, would you like some water?" 

And he spun on his heel to see her. It was so odd to view her now that he was a little taller than her, instead of being small enough to wrap his arms around her legs. She was still as beautiful as the pictures but she wasn't memorialised in his mind like some sort of perfect being. Her sweater was threadbare at the elbows, her hair was a little frizzy (thick curls like his, almost identical in colour) and she had dark circles under her eyes. She also wore glasses, which Bruce had completely forgotten because she took them off for photos. 

"Uh…" he didn't know what to say to her. 

"You must be parched, here," and Rebecca poured him a glass of water from a pitcher she kept in the fridge. "Piping in new houses is never deep enough to keep water cool, not like the old days." 

He was still trying to find words when he realised a vision shouldn't be able to hand him things, and he shouldn't be able to feel the cool water tumbling down his throat. 

"So, you wanted to talk about Robbie?" 

He nearly choked on the last mouthful and hid it with a loud cough. 

"Um, yes," he said, not sure who he was supposed to be in this scenario but going along with it all the same. 

His mother nodded and indicated for him to sit down with her at the kitchen table. Again, it felt so strange to be big enough for a chair he used to sit at every day as a kid, his legs swinging and needing a cushion so he could reach the table properly. 

"His teacher said he's been excelling," she said proudly but then immediately frowned. "You didn't speak to my husband, did you?" 

"No, of course not," and he now knew his role like he had read the script. "Yes, young Br… Robbie has been working really hard and it's clear to see he is clever." 

She smiled, but it was juxtaposed by her sad eyes. "You're going to say he should be in a gifted school, aren't you?" 

"Uh…" 

"Well I'm sorry but he can't. He just… can't." And she sighed tiredly before collecting herself. "I'm sorry, it's just--" 

"I know," Bruce said quietly. "You don't have to explain your reasons. I know you would want the best education for him, but sometimes that can't happen." 

And he couldn't help himself, she was right there in front of him. He put his hand over hers and squeezed it in comfort. 

"Thank you," she said quietly. 

"And it's not like kids won't excel as adults just because they missed out on extra tutoring," he continued. "They'll catch up in no time and go on to do great things." 

She smiled warmly and Bruce recognised his own features in hers. He never thought he looked like her, always hating how he was the spitting image of his father, but he saw himself in her smile. 

"I hope so. Do you know he can name every bird he sees? Even the scientific names. He read about bird watching and within a day he was telling me facts about each one." 

Bruce couldn't help but grin, having forgotten about that particular hyperfixation. "Is that so?" 

"If he could… that is, if we agreed he could go to a gifted school, I suspect he would get a scholarship for college, maybe even go early." 

She looked furious, if just for a moment, letting her guard down enough to show how she really felt. Bruce had never seen her angry; she had hid it well when he was small and already so scared of someone else's anger. She had shown him nothing but smiles and positivity, desperate to make his life as normal as possible. 

But he remembered hearing her crying behind the bedroom door, trying to suppress her sobs so she could go read her child a bedtime story like nothing was wrong. The illusion was shattered that day.

"You are doing everything you possibly can for your son. More than everything. You--"

He stopped himself. Was this really a dream or had he really travelled back? What would it mean if he told her?

"I will lay down my life for him," she finished, eyes defiant and full of fury. 

He felt his facade fading, no longer able to pretend he wasn't who he really was. 

"You're going to save my life. Over and over. Until that bastard kills you for it." 

He cried, clutching her hand and unable to look at her. She shouldn't have sacrificed herself for him. She wasn't supposed to be known as just a wife and mother. She was exceptionally bright in her own right, never one to boast but able to keep up with her husband and nudge her son towards harder sums and thicker books. It wasn't her fault the man who told her he loved her had used that love to control her, to make her feel weak and stupid.

Had she escaped that night, she would have done great things. 

"I know," she said quietly, tears in her own eyes. "I figured I had a shot that night. He usually stays late at the bar and left the car at home, so I thought I had three hours. But I didn't know he had a meeting the next morning and drank a whole bottle of whiskey walking home instead. I miscalculated." 

"It's my fault. You told me to pack but I couldn't find my stupid Captain America toy and…" he wiped his eyes angrily. "I held us up." 

Rebecca reached across the table to wipe the trails of tears from his cheeks.

"You were a child," she said. "It can never be your fault. Hey," and she cradled his face in her hands. "It was never your fault." 

"It wasn't yours either. None of it," he said defiantly. 

She nodded. "Thank you." 

The vision was starting to waver, like an old projection flickering as the film ran out. He clutched her hand desperately, wanting to tell her so much more, to tell her he hadn't wasted the gift she gave him that night. That he had excelled despite everything that happened. That he did everything to make her proud. 

He felt her hand slowly fading, getting lighter in his hand as it faded away. He managed to tell her he loved her before he awoke back on the ship, his face wet with tears. 

The next morning, much to everyone's confusion, Bruce marched straight up to Loki, grabbed him by the shoulder, and hugged him tightly. 

[johannstutt413]

(requested by mathmaticalknight; continuing from this)

The day Saria and Nian returned, Silence was at the arrival terminal, ego on her sleeve. “Good afternoon. Is this public enough a place, Nian?”

“‘Public enough...’ What’s going on here, dear?” The Sarkaz glanced between the two, unaware of the deal that’d been struck.

“The Law of Equivalent Exchange.” The Nian nodded to the Liberi. “Go ahead.”

She took a composing breath. “I apologize for giving you so much grief over your relationship with Nian and how you’ve handled her files. You deserve your happiness as much as I deserve mine, whatever form that takes, and doctor-patient confidentiality doesn’t go away simply because I want it to.”

“Oh...Apology accepted, then. Thank you. Is that why you needed the files, then?” Saria’s attention immediately went back to her lover.

“Yup.” Nian slid a file out of her cracked-open luggage. “There you go. Knock yourself out.”

The Medic promptly did for a moment, as her narcolepsy took hold; luckily, Ptilopsis was waiting in the wings, and with the help of a cart was able to get her back to their office.

Saria smirked. “You know she can’t read Ancient Terran, of course.”

“There’s only one person who can, and something tells me she won’t like what she sees. Let’s go get lunch - those little pretzel bags weren’t nearly enough for a proper meal.”

“Yeah. Hey, Nian?” Something else came to the mind of the ex-Security professional, though. “You didn’t change anything about the results, did you? They’re still accurate?”

The Nian gave her a sly smile. “Oh, the numbers are all accurate, it’s all about the presentation...”

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

Once they were back in the office, and both Liberi were actually awake at the same time, Silence opened the folder and, inevitably, sighed. “Of course she did.”

“Scanning document...97% match to a dialect of Ancient Terran from what is now Great Yen. No one has spoken this dialect in thousands of years, Liv.”

“That bi- wait a minute.” Olivia felt the gears turn into place. “Kal’tsit. If anyone here can read this cursed thing, besides Nian or perhaps her recluse sister, it would be Dr. Kal’tsit. We’ll take it to her.”

Ptilopsis nodded and, after a moment’s pause, gave Silence a tender pat on the shoulder. “A month ago, I couldn’t imagine you asking her for help like this.”

“A month ago, I wasn’t engaged to my closest confidante, either. Now, let’s go make medical history.”

There was no point in calling ahead - too great a delay in the lead Liberi’s eyes - so the pair went directly to Kal’tsit’s office and, conveniently, found her at her desk. “Yes?”

“We have Nian’s exam results.” The Feline leapt to her feet. “She translated them into Ancient Terran, but we have them. Will you translate them?”

“What did you have to do to get these?” Monst3r plucked the file from the Liberi’s hands and brought it to their master.

Tilly chirped as Olivia tried to look like the question didn’t annoy her. “Swallow my pride, somewhat...You look concerned now that you’re reading it. Is something wrong with the translation?”

“I...if I translate this file in its entirety, there will be riots.” Dr. Kal’tsit sighed, tossing it onto her desk. “To continue reading it would mean you would know I know its contents, and I know how persistent you are - an admirable trait, but in conjunction with whatever else that file contains, one that would shatter our understanding of the world at its seams.”

“That sounds like all the more reason to translate it and keep it secret-”

The Feline rolled her eyes at the arguing researcher. “Secrets are only as secure as their keepers, and one of us in this room is Rhodes Island’s data archivist extraordinaire. I’m sorry, Dr. Silence, but that’s too grave a risk.”

“...After all this, the final answer is ‘we can’t know?’” Silence was shaking. “I, I, Dr. Kal’tsit please-”

“Liv?” Ptilopsis wrapped herself around the other Liberi’s right arm. “Diαbolic Crisis.”

That stopped her cold. “I...I take your point, love. If the information is truly that disastrous, Dr. Kal’tsit, then I resign myself from the file’s custody. Do what you will with it - read it, destroy it, feed it to Eyjafyalla’s sheep. I wash my hands of it. Good day.”

“Thank you, Dr. Silence.” The gratitude bounced entirely off the researcher as she left, admittedly, but it couldn't be said that she didn’t try.

“Scanning subject...Mood analyzed.” Tilly hadn’t let go of Olivia’s arm since taking hold. “I’m sorry to remind you, Liv. It was the quickest way to express my point.”

Silence stopped after a few more steps and sighed. “You know me too well if you could see the warning signs so quickly. No breakthrough is worth repeating that incident, but I’d hoped I’d learned better. I guess not.”

“You learned to stop yourself when reminded. Progress: 67%”

“Only 33% more, then?” The Liberi resumed walking to their cart. “I should be able to manage that. Could you drive us home, love? I’m feeling a bit faint.”

As the lovebirds sat in the vehicle and almost immediately suffered simultaneous bouts of narcolepsy, Dr. Kal’tsit reviewed the file they’d given her, and it was just as she’d expected.

Nothing extraordinary. Perplexing, perhaps - a regenerative power much like Whisperain’s but with a long period of dormancy between resurrections, a substantial amount of strength and durability but nothing not outdone by Saria herself, a lack of Originum in the Nian’s system and little Arts potential - but nothing that Rhodes Island hadn’t seen in some measure before. Had Silence seen those results, there would have been no end to the pestering, the feuding, the distrust, because there was no way it could be so simple, certainl- “Wait...She didn’t translate this note at the bottom.”

‘Dr. Kal’tsit: If you’re reading this, it means Silence did what I expected; if you’re alone in your office right now, it means she actually exceeded that. You have my full permission as Saria’s patient to hang onto this file for your own records. Whatever you decide, I just want to say thanks. That exam was worth the trouble, 110%, and it couldn’t have happened without Rhodes Island or you. Tell the Doctor that, too, for me. I might not have the time to tell him myself. Busy, busy, busy.

-Nian.’

“Busy?” The Feline smirked as she put the file through the shredder. “Busy doing what?”

More like “who,” honestly.

[yikesharringrove]

His Fault.

Thank you @thinger-strang for the commission! 💕

Read on Ao3

Steve took Max first, grabbing her around the knees and lifting.

He didn’t know which kid was which, just picked them up and shoved them through the hole in the ground.

No thoughts in his head besides getting the kids to safety.

He was still dizzy from the fight, from Max’s wild driving, from being thrown into low oxygen conditions.

He grabbed Dustin.

The last kid to get through.

There was a rumble.

The ground shook.

And Steve stared death right in its face.

A pack of demodogs, heading right for them.

He grabbed Dustin, thought maybe, maybe he could shield him.

If this kid dies, it’s all my fault.

But the ‘dogs passed them by.

On their way to protect from El.

Because their plan didn’t work. Their carefully crafted idea to help El was bullshit.

He pushed Dustin up to safety.

He had brought these kids down here for no reason.

They had all gotten hurt for no reason.

All because of him.

-

Steve’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel.

He was trying to get himself to get up, get out of the car.

Staring through the windshield at the small service.

Barb’s funeral.

The girl that died right outside his house. The girl who died in his pool.

The girl he killed.

By being too preoccupied with Nancy. By being too much of a stupid fucking jock.

It’s all his fault.

He got out of the car, stayed mostly to himself throughout the service.

He hugged Barb’s parents afterwards, offered his condolences.

He got the feeling that they never really liked him.

That’s okay. He doesn't really blame them.

And if they knew, if they knew what he did to their Barb-

They would do more than just not like him.

He spent the rest of the day in bed, thoughts of your fault your fault your fault whipping through his brain.

He killed Barb.

-

Steve was trying to think quickly.

It was a little tricky, what with the pounding in his head, the hits he was taking right to the gut.

He needed to somehow talk his way out of this.

Which sucked because talking has never been his strong point.

But he brought Robin into all of this. He had let Erica climb through those vents to get them into the elevator. He had helped Dustin suss out what the message meant.

Actually, he hadn’t.

He had been too fucking stupid to help with that.

No.

He had just encouraged the translation that was happening around him.

Had just walked three people right into the clutches of the Upside Down, and these violent goddamn Russians, and-

That one hurt.

He woke up sometime later to Robin yelling.

“Hey, will you stop yelling?”

“Steve! Oh my God! Steve!”

She sounded, actually relieved.

“Are you okay?”

-

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this.”

Robin was sitting next to him, both wrapped in thick blankets.

They had their own ambulance, Nancy and Jonathan in the one next door.

He had watched them take Billy off on a gurney, watched them slam a defibrillator to his body until his heart started beating again, watched them load him into the back of an ambulance, and take him off to the hospital.

The adrenaline, the heavy drugs, it was all out of his system.

And he was crashing.

“I shouldn’t have roped you into this. I shouldn’t have talked Dustin into translating the tape, I shouldn’t have-”

“Okay, Dingus. Let’s get some things straight. I’m pretty sure Dustin talked you into the translations. I don’t know if you’d be able to talk Dustin into anything. And you didn’t rope me into shit.”

“I mean, I mean with the Upside Down. This whole fucking conspiracy. You deserved to go your whole damn life without knowing any of this.”

“But Steve, I know about it now. The milk has been spilled. So stop crying.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Yes, it is.

-

“Hi, welcome to Family- Nancy?”

Nancy had stopped in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Steve. I didn’t know you were working here.”

“Yeah. You know, with the mall being all, burnt down. And stuff.” She nodded slowly, stock still in the doorway. “Can I help you find something?”

“No. Thanks. I’m just browsing.”

“Well, uh, let me know if you need help. Or ask Robin, maybe. She’s better with the recommends.” Nancy seemed to startle, stepping into the store properly.

“Thanks, Steve.” He smiled tightly at her.

They really hadn’t talked since breaking up.

Of course, they’d spoken in the summer, but that was less exchanging pleasantries, more how do we stop the giant fleshy monster that’s trying to take over the whole world?

Which isn’t quite the same.

She browsed through the aisles, Steve doodling on the carbon pad next to the register.

She smiled tightly at him, a few tapes in hand.

“So, uh, how are you?” They hadn’t spoken since that night. Since he wandered over to her ambulance, checking in with her and Jonathan.

“I’m okay. Just working and stuff. Obviously.”

“And how’s Billy?”

“Managing. He’s in all kindsa therapy and stuff now.”

“That’s, that’s good.” She was all stiff as he handed her her change. “It’s good to see you, Steve.”

“Yeah, Nancy. Yeah, you too.”

He hated how shitty and awkward that had been.

Hated that she was the person he felt closest to for the better part of a year, and now they’re stuck with light conversation and forced smiles.

He pushed her so hard.

Always poking and poking.

Always too clingy, always too emotional, not emotional enough. Too insensitive, or just too much work.

He doesn’t know how anyone puts up with him.

-

“Hey,” Billy smiled softly at him. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, now that my little nurse is here.” Steve rolled his eyes, smiling back as he sat on the bed next to Billy.

He had brought him to his house from the military hospital.

Billy still had a long road of healing. His scars were pulled together, and the wounds were closed, but everything was still pretty rough.

“Can I get you anything?” Billy reached over for him.

His hands were scarred and rough, and he was still trying to regain feeling, the nerves having suffered far too much damage.

“Nah. Just sit with me.”

Steve took one of his hands, stretching his hand like the doctor had shown him.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Nah. My stomach’s all outta whack today. Don’t know if I could keep anything down.” Steve furrowed his brows.

“Are you, can I make you something? Soup?”

“Stevie, I’m okay. One day’s not gonna kill me.” It felt like the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Something must've shown on his face because Billy was trying to sit up. “Sorry, that was a shitty joke.”

“No, I just-”

“It’s okay. Sorry.” Steve tried to gather himself.

“Don’t like jokes about you dying. Thought you were dead for, for like a week, you know. Before they told us you were stable.”

“Baby, it’s alright. I know it was hard on you.” Steve blinked rapidly.

“But I mean, it’s like, youwere the one, the one in the hospital I shouldn’t,” he stood up, Billy wincing as the bed shifted. “I’m gonna make you something.”

He was holding back tears as he spread peanut butter and jelly onto saltine crackers.

Billy had the best luck keeping it down when he felt sick.

He felt like shit whenever he did that. Got all mopey on Billy.

Billy was the one trying not to die in a hospital bed. Steve was just, doing what Steve does.

Making everything about himself.

He brought Billy the plate, kneeling next to him in bed.

“You okay?” Steve just shook his head, plastering on a nice smile for Billy.

“I’m fine, Bill. Just try to eat? For me?”

Billy managed three of the crackers before he heaved into the garbage bin placed next to the bed.

Steve felt like shit.

Billy’s core muscles were still healing, and throwing up only made him sore, made him tired and in pain.

“Billy, I’m sorry.”

He shouldn’t have made Billy eat. Shouldn’t have tried to make himself feel better by force-feeding Billy while he felt bad.

When he finally stopped, Steve helped him to the bathroom to wash out his mouth.

“I’m sorry.”

“Steve, it’s not your fault.”

“But you said you didn’t feel good.”

“You’re just trying to take care of me.”

Keyword here being trying.

Trying and failing at taking care of Billy.

-

“Steve, are you busy tonight?” Dustin had thrown open the door to Family Video stomping inside.

“I mean, no but I thought, isn’t tonight your big tournament?”

Dustin sighed dramatically.

“The arcade is closed.”

Dustin had been saving up for months, using the end of the summer to mow neighbors’ lawns.

Steve had even paid him to mow his own lawn.

He and the gang were going to rage for hours, Dustin organizing a special secret prize for whoever got the highest cumulative score.

He had put so much thought into everything, had been so excited.

And the arcade was closed.

“Can I talk to Keith?”

“Be my guest.”

Dustin pushed into the backroom.

Steve could hear his voice, could hear him arguing with Keith.

He came back out, Keith following behind.

“Harrington, I told you, customers aren’t allowed in the back.” He pointed to the Employees Only sign on the door. “Can you even read?” Keith rolled his eyes. Steve studied his shoes.

“And Henderson, I told you, the arcade is closed for renovations. A pipe burst in the storeroom.” Dustin Huffed. “Just, rent a movie or something. But you know, don’t ask for Harrington’s recommendation.”

Keith laughed to himself as he retreated to the back.

“Like I would ask you for a recommendation. I know what kind of movies you like.” Steve forced a smile at him.

“Sorry about your game night.” Dustin shrugged.

“I thought it’d be fun. We haven’t played DnD since Will moved. It just feels wrong without him, I guess. I thought this could bring us back to the fun spirit.”

“It’s a good idea. I’m sorry you’re gonna have to postpone.”

Steve just kinda lived with a big ol’ bit in his stomach these days.

But every time something like this happened, something where his friend was sad, and Steve was completely useless to help him, the pit seemed to grow.

He wonders what happens when the pit gets too big.

-

Billy stretched his arms above his head, wincing slightly.

“You okay?”

Billy blew out a breath, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah. Just cold. It hurts.” They were standing outside, waiting for the kids to be finished with school.

Steve drove Dustin and Max home, usually brought Billy along with him.

Neil had been one of the flayed, the only casualty Billy said he didn’t feel bad for.

So Max had moved with her mom into a tiny two-bedroom house.

Billy was still staying with Steve for the time being.

“Oh! I got a sweater in my trunk.” Steve ran around to the back of the car, unlocking the trunk and digging through.

He kept his car pretty clean, just his bat, some jumper cables, and a go-bag.

So he should see the sweater right away.

But he didn’t.

He frantically shifted everything around.

“No, no.”

The sweater wasn’t there.

“Fuck are you, are you serious?”

He genuinely could cry.

Billy was blowing into his hands, rubbing them together when Steve slumped back over to him.

“Billy, I’m sorry. It’s not in there.” Billy squinted at him.

“That’s okay.”

“I thought it was, but I must’ve taken it out, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Just, you know, come here and make it up to me.” He had a lazy smile on his face. “Come keep me warm.”

Steve wrapped himself around Billy, burying his face in his neck.

“I wish I could keep you warmer. I wish I had that sweater.”

“Baby, I’m okay. Just achy.”

Steve made sure to turn up the heat full blast when they got back in, the kids in the backseat.

-

“Fuck!”

The bottom of the box had given out, tapes crashing to the tiled floor.

He had been on his way to reshelve everything, after spending all day in the back rewinding.

But here he was, checking each plastic tape for cracks as he tried to find something else to put them in.

“Jesus Christ, Harrington.”

Ah, yes. That’s what he needs right now. Keith standing over him while he cleaned up the mess of tapes.

“What’d you do now?”

“The box, it just fell apart.”

“You know, Robin really went out on a limb to you to get this job.” Keith was standing over him, staring down at Steve sill kneeling on the ground. “Maybe I should just fire you both.”

“Wait, no!”

Steve’s heart was in his throat.

It felt like he was gonna choke on it.

“You, you can’t, I don’t care if you hate me, okay, just, just don’t fire Robin!”

Keith loved to do this. Dangle his measly power as manager over Steve.

Robin said it was some kind of revenge fantasy for how shitty Steve was to him in high school.

Steve just figures he deserves it.

Bottom of the food chain now. That’s where he is.

The guy that thought he was the hottest shit to walk the Earth. The guy that barely graduated. The guy that had to linger around his hometown. The guy has no life. The guy that has no future.

“Why not? She vouched for you.” Keith was eating a pack of M&Ms, crunching each one loudly between his teeth.

“Just, just don’t.” Steve felt like he could cry.

“Then get this cleaned up, and I’ll consider letting you both stay.”

Steve just nodded.

He didn’t think his voice would work without cracking all over the place.

He found a crate in the stockroom, stacking the tapes as quickly as he could.

He liked reshelving.

The organization system made sense, and he could do it easily without having to know anything about the movies, without having to know anything besides the alphabet, and the genre sticker each tape had.

Robin was better with customers.

Better at making change and recommending movies. Better at talking to people without sounding like an idiot.

But he finished reshelving, and had to retreat behind the counter.

“You’re being weird today.”

Steve had zoned out, staring through the front windows.

“Sorry.”

“Bad night?” he just nodded slowly. He didn’t want to tell her about Keith’s little threat. She would just go on a rampage. Probably yell at him a lot. And if Steve being a fuck up didn’t get her fired, defending him for sure would. Plus, it’s not like it’s a lie. Most nights are bad. “Steve, are you sure you’re okay? It feels like,” she glanced around. “It feels like you’re getting, like, worse.”

“Sorry.” She furrowed her brows.

“That’s not something you need to apologize for, you know that, right? I’m just worried about you.”

“Sorry.” Her face pinched up even more.

“Steve.”

“Yeah, I, just you know. Not sleeping much.”

“I could come over? You said it’s better when there’s sound in your house. I can stomp around for a while.” He huffed a laugh through his nose, giving her the biggest smile he could muster.

“That’s okay. I’m managing, Rob.” She raised one eyebrow. “And besides, I, uh, I won’t be home tonight.”

She made a face at him, pursing her lips so she didn’t smile.

Billy had gotten his own apartment with the money the government had given him, a little thank you for your discretion gift when he was released from the hospital.

He had spent nearly a month in a coma, a month in which Steve had only left his room a handful of times. After waking up, delirious, and in pain, he had spent the next six months in heavy rehabilitation, in daily therapy, both mental and physical, in which Steve practically lived at the hospital with him.

They had bonded more than Robin could ever know, both boys spilling everything to one another, every dark thought, every bad memory.

Long story short, they were inseparable.

“Then have a fun night. And talk to Billy. Tell him you’re struggling.”

“I’m not-”

She stomped her foot, giving him a stern look.

“Yeah, okay.”

-

“Shit.”

Steve knew he had a key to Billy’s apartment.

But it wasn’t on his key ring.

“Are you kidding me?” He knocked on the door.

It took Billy a few minutes to come get him.

“I’m sorry, I, I lost my key.” Billy looked tired . It was Thursday. Billy was a stockboy at Meldvald’s on Thursdays. His doctor said getting a job would be nice, that it would help him rejoin society, make him feel good to support himself, all this shit.

Mostly, it just made Billy’s sore.

“It’s okay.”

“No, but, it’s not on my ring! I don’t know where it fell off, it could be anywhere, you might have to change the locks or-”

“Steve! It’s fine. Just get in here.”

Steve snapped his jaw closed. Billy shuffled back to the couch, groaning as he sat down slowly.

“Can I get you something? Have you eaten? I can rub your back if-”

“Harrington, just come sit with me.” Billy was giving him a little half-smile.

Steve stumbled over to the couch, and tucked himself right under Billy’s arm.

“What are we watching?”

“Some soap. There’s been a marathon all evening. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.” Steve leaned his head against Billy.

He had no clue what was going on. Had a question on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask about the plot points, the characters.

But he’s bothered Billy enough tonight, making him get up to open the door, always, always bothering-

“Hey, where’d you go?” Billy was stroking one rough hand through his hair.

“Nowhere.”

“Robin called me from the video store.” Steve sighed, burying his face into Billy’s neck. “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m okay.”

“Yeah, you’re always okay.” He said it like he was mad, like he was frustrated with Steve.

He pulled back, sliding to the other end of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m sorry.” Billy was staring blankly at him. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad. What are you even-” he cut himself off. “Steve, talk to me. You’re getting, distant.”

“I’m-”

“Please stop apologizing.”

Steve swallowed thickly.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you. You’re slipping through my fingers, and I don’t know how to help you.”

“I-” Steve’s throat was closing up. “I don’t know what to do.”

Billy shifted stiffly, reaching out for Steve’s hand.

“Talk to me, Baby. You know I’ll listen.”

“I, uh, I just.” His jaw was moving, but he couldn’t form any words.

Billy took his hands, pulling him gently.

Steve let himself be tugged, let himself fall into Billy’s lap.

“It’s all my fault.”

“What’s your fault?”

“All of it.”

“Can you, maybe elaborate?”

“Everything. It’s all my fault.” His chest felt pulled tight, and he couldn’t fucking breathe. “Everything, everything. My fault.”

Billy had no fucking idea what to do.

Steve was breathing sharply, his eyes squeezed closed.

He had both hands in his hair, pulling roughly.

“Steve, hey.” He took his wrists, trying to stop him. “Steve, I need you to breathe, okay? Can you do that?” Steve shook his head.

“Just, just try to take as deep a breath as you can, okay?”

Billy was trying to remember what his shrink had told him, the tips for dealing with his own panic.

But watching Steve fall apart, well. It was hard for Billy to keep it together.

He sat with Steve, holding his hands until he opened his eyes, until he was breathing without Billy reminding him to do it.

“Steve. Sugar. Talk to me.”

Steve was still slumped over, still had his head in Billy’s lap.

He turned to bury his face in Billy’s thigh.

“Sometimes I feel like the world is crushing me. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Can you explain that to me? You said everything was your fault.”

“Like, like Barb. She, it was my fault she died, and my fault the kids almost got hurt in the tunnels, and my fault that Dustin and Robin and Erica got stuck in the lab, and, and, and I’m so bad at taking care of you. I can’t do anything right.”

Billy could feel his tears, wet patches soaking through his sweatpants.

“You do a lot of stuff right!”

“Keith told me he was gonna fire Robin today, because I messed up again.”

“Fuck Keith. No way that creep has firing power. And maybe you should talk to Robin. Or go to your boss about him. He just likes going on a power trip with you.

“And as for, well everything, Pretty Boy, none of that was your fault. Barb was killed by, by a monster-”

“At my house, at my party, in my pool.”

“Still not your fault.”

“I thought she had left, you know? I didn’t know she was out there.”

“That just proves my point! You didn’t know she was out there, you didn’t know what was going to happen. That whole event , it had nothing to do with you. And the kids like, fully kidnapped you to bring you to the tunnels. If anything, that’s my fault for, you know. Doing what I did.”

Billy took a deep breath.

“I know a lot about guilt. I know how it feels like you’re just, you’re drowning. And you’re never gonna get to the surface, but that, that stuff. People make their own choices. You can’t control what other people do, you can just control what you do. And you, you do nothing but good. You just love, and you love, and you love. You always do what you think is best, and that’s what matters.”

“I feel bad all that time. Like, like right now I feel bad because, because of course you feel guilty, and I’m saying shit that doesn’t matter, and my problems they don’t-”

“Don’t you dare say your problems don't matter.” Billy was tangling his fingers through Steve’s hair, playing with it gently. “Your problems matter . They matter to me. It hurts me that you're struggling. It hurts me that I didn’t notice.”

“Billy, it’s not your fault.”

“You say that like it’s so easy. You take my guilt and you ease it. And that’s what I want for you.” Steve wasn’t crying anymore, but he was still curled up on the couch, still had his face pressed against Billy’s leg.

“I don’t know how. I’ve been so thoroughly crushed under all this that I’m scared of what happens if I claw through it all.”

“Maybe you won’t feel like shit all the time.”

“Feeling like shit is the easy part. It’s predictable.”

“I know. It’s safe .”

“Yeah. What do people even think about if they aren’t thinking about all the problems of the people closest to them and finding ways to blame themselves?” Billy laughed at that. Steve could feel his belly moving next to him.

It was a nice moment.

“I don’t know. That’s what movies and books are for. When you’ve got shit else to think about because you’re not trapped under a mountain of guilt.”

“Probably why I’ve read so few books, then.”

“We need to start watching more movies.”

-

“We need to talk about Steve.”

“Hi, Robin. It’s great to see you. How’s your day?” Robin rolled her eyes. She was leaned over the counter at Family Video, flicking through a magazine.

“He had a break down last night.”

“Finally. He’s been hanging on by a thread for weeks,”

“Yeah, try years.” She looked up at him.

“What do you mean?”

“He like, unloaded fully. He still blames himself for the girl that got killed in his backyard.”

“Wait, he thinks that’s his fault?”

“Yeah, and the kids in the tunnels, and also you and Dustin and Erica being brought into the whole mess. And also that he’s bad at taking care of me? Which, don’t know how he got that one. He does a really fucking good job taking care of me.”

“Jesus. He’s like, stressed.”

“To put it lightly.”

“So, what’s up? Where do I come in?”

“I’m planning an evening. A We Love Steve Harrington party.”

“I can be snack duty.” He smiled at her, clapping her on the shoulder. “It just us?”

“Yeah. I figured to leave the kids out of this one.”

“Good choice.”

“Be over at seven.” She nodded once, giving him a two-finger salute.

-

Steve was curled up, Billy spooned up behind him when there was a knock on the door.

“Go get that, will you? I’m all stiff.” Steve turned around, looking at Billy all concerned. “Go on. I’m okay.”

Billy had to shove him away before he finally went to answer the door.

“Oh, Robin, uh, hey.” She pushed one of her shopping bags into his arms.

“I was invited for an evening of bolstering you up.”

Billy came lumbering in, throwing himself down on the couch.

“I, don’t get it.”

“Robin’s here because you need some lovin’.” Steve’s bottom lip wobbled.

“That’s really nice.”

“You deserve it.” Billy was looking at him seriously.

Steve tucked himself into Billy’s side, Robin shoving herself next to him on the little couch.

Billy had pulled out all his lumpy blankets, and they had already torn into a box of cookies.

Steve was all warm.

Curled up in the blankets, watching The Aristocats.

“Thank you, guys. For this. It means a lot.”

“Can it, Dingus. Thomas O’Malley’s gonna sing.”

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Time to End

A Stitched Story

JSE Fanfic

Second to last story, wow. That’s insane. We’re really reaching the end now. In this story, we have one last confrontation with Jackie and Marvin, and then the rest of it is all fallout and cleanup. I don’t want to say too much, but the story is a bit longer than my usual stories lately. Not by too much, though. Alright, I’m excited to finally post this, so I’ll stop there. Here we go!

Tagging @septic-dr-schneep for inspiring this AU with this post.

Read where it started: Stitched Together | Season One | Season Two

Previous Season Three stories: Torn Apart | Tales to Tell | Threads | Twice Bitten, Never Shy | Two of Souls | The Tower

Taglist (finally): @bupine @violet--majesty @ari-trash

Twilight had covered the city, and the last of the sunlight was quickly fading. There were cars out, but no pedestrians. Well, actually, there were four pedestrians. They’d been running for a while, but were now slowing down, as the spinning blue disk they’d been following was gradually losing speed. If anyone had bothered to look, they would have thought it weird to see four men following a flying, glowing disk. But the four didn’t care.

If it’s slowing down, that means we’re getting close, JJ explained as the group shifted from jogging to walking.

Jack looked around. They were now surrounded by apartment buildings. Not particularly tall ones, all boxy and generally looking the same. “This place...we’ve been here before,” he muttered.

Really? It doesn’t look familiar to me. JJ looked around as well, confused.

“I don’t think it would be, J,” Chase said absentmindedly. “Not to you.”

“Where are we?” Schneep asked, tightening his grip on Jack’s arm. “It does not sound too busy.”

“We’re near Jackie and Marvin’s old apartment is,” Jack explained quietly. “I think...I think that’s where we’re heading.”

“...ah.” Schneep’s expression fell. “So. They decided to head there.” He took a deep breath. “It makes sense, I suppose. We are coming full circle.”

“Well, now that we’re getting close, we should figure out what to do.” Chase’s hand drifted to his belt, where he’d tucked his gun. “I-I don’t want to hurt them. But...would we have to?”

We’ll have to defend ourselves, at least, JJ anticipated. 

“What we really need to do is get rid of the strings,” Jack said. “But, well, we can’t destroy them, apparently.”

“Maybe we can contain them, somehow?” Chase speculated. “Like, while they’re in that box, they didn’t really affect Jackie for a while. I mean, it doesn’t look like it’s working anymore, but something like that?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said quietly. The disk is slowing even further, and the area is definitely becoming familiar. He recognized the striped [awning] set out in front of one of the apartment buildings. They’re getting close. “Maybe...if we put them far away, a-and somehow contain them, then they’ll stop influencing them. JJ, you’re the magic man, do you think you can do that?”

JJ looked skeptical, clearly frowning under his mask. I don’t think so, he signed slowly. I tried before, back when the strings first came after Jackie, remember? He just used his new magic to destroy the brief moment I had them under control.

“I don’t remember that,” Chase said.

Well, it definitely happened, JJ said. He paused for a moment, thinking. Henrik. I have a question. Where do your scissors come from?

Jack translated the signed question for Schneep, who frowned, confused. “I...am not sure. They sort of come from nowhere.”

“Hey, y’know...back there, you pulled out like three of those, right?” Chase asked. “And that cane you sometimes use comes from nowhere, right?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Well, if you can take things out of nowhere, do you think you can put things away into the nowhere?” Chase asked. JJ nodded eagerly, apparently having had the same idea.

Schneep blinked. “Oh. I had not tried that, not with things I had not already pulled out. Perhaps.” He nodded, slowly at first, then with increasing surety. “Yes, it makes sense that I would be able to do that. And we might as well try, yes? That would probably contain the strings, and put them far away.”

“Great, so we have a basis,” Jack said. “Now we just—” He suddenly stopped walking. The tracking disk had turned a corner, and there it was. “Oh. We...we’re here.” The building with Jackie and Marvin’s apartment. It looked exactly the same, even years later. Despite the disk not changing pace, the boys hurried up, getting ahead of it.

Once the disk caught up, it headed down a side alley. Then, strangely, it paused. And floated upward. Up to a fifth story window, with a fire escape outside. Once it reached there, it disappeared. Is that their apartment? JJ asked.

“Yeah,” Chase muttered, nodding. “That’s it. Wonder if it’s still empty.”

“Wonder how we are going to get inside,” Schneep added. “Can we just...walk in?”

Jack leaned to the side, looking through the glass front doors of the building. “Well I mean...no one’s in there.”

“It can’t be that easy,” Chase said.

But it was. The boys walked right into the apartment building’s waiting area, heading straight for the elevators. Nobody appeared to stop them. The elevator doors slid open, and the four of them piled inside.

“Shit. I forgot about this,” Jack swore. He pointed at a keyhole in the elevator’s button panel. “To access the floors with rooms you need a room key. Otherwise...” He pressed the button for the fourth floor above the ground story. It didn’t light up. “Yeah, that.”

“I do not suppose either of you two kept a copy of their room key,” Schneep muttered.

“No,” Chase said. “God. I really don’t want to climb up the fire escape. I know Jackie always said it was fine, but that thing looks rickety as all hell.”

Hang on, let me try something, JJ said, pushing past the others to be closest to the button panel. He stared down at the keyhole, then pressed two fingers on either side of it. A small bit of blue magic flickered into existence, flat and long. It slid right into the keyhole, and JJ made a turning motion. Then he pressed the same button Jack had. This time, it lit up, and the elevator started moving upward.

Chase whistled, impressed. “I didn’t know your magic included picking locks, J.”

It’s not exactly like that, JJ explained. It’s just that my magic is purely focused on helping others. I concentrated on ‘we need to move the lift so my friends can get upstairs,’ and it worked.

“Still, that’s pretty cool,” Jack said. “But okay, while we’re here, we need to figure out what exactly we’re going to do. Get a game plan going. Anyone have any ideas?”

— — — — — — —

The fifth story hallway was eerily normal. It felt out of place for what they were about to do. Jack, Chase, and Schneep still remembered the room number: 515. Near the end of the hall. The group walked silently down the corridor, until they stopped outside the room with the number stenciled on its door. After a moment of hesitation, Jack reached out and grabbed the knob, turning it. “It’s unlocked,” he said, surprised.

“Either that’s how they got in here, and they left it open, or they knew we would come,” Chase guessed.

Personally, I hope it’s the former, JJ said.

Jack looked at the other three, taking in their expressions. Nervous, but not backing down. “Are we ready?” he asked. They all nodded. “Alright. Let’s get in there fast. On three. One...two...” He pulled the door open. “Three!” And the four of them hurried inside, the door shutting behind them.

The apartment hadn’t changed at all in the past few years. That was a bit odd, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t it have been sold to new owners, or at the very least cleaned up to show it off to potential buyers? But no. Perhaps being the apartment where a murder-suicide happened was enough to scare people off. Or perhaps there was a supernatural reason for it. Either way, everything was the same. Exactly the same.

All of the living room’s furniture had been pushed to the walls, even blocking the doors to the other rooms. There was a circle burned into the wooden floor, with five melted black candles along the perimeter, now just lumps of wax. 

Jackie and Marvin were kneeling on the floor inside the burnt circle, facing each other with the box containing the strings between them. The coppery metal sides were pretty banged up, covered with scratches. But the box was still holding strong. The moment the four entered the room, Jackie and Marvin’s heads shot upward and turned to stare at them. “Leave,” they said, in perfect, eerie unison.

Jack instinctively took a step backwards, bumping into Chase. The moment he did, Chase reached out and squeezed his hand, giving him an encouraging nod. Jack nodded back. He took a deep breath. “No,” he said. “We can’t let you do this.”

“Why not?” They asked, still perfectly in sync. “We need them. We need to be whole.”

“You two are whole by yourselves,” Jack insisted. “You’re two people, not one.”

“Can’t it be both?” They tilted their heads. “Things can be two and one, half and whole.”

“Not people,” Chase added. “C’mon, guys. You remember who you were before! I know you do!”

They looked at each other. “The memories are there,” they conceded. “But which is which? We don’t know. We can’t tell. It’s all mixed up. But when we are whole, it doesn’t matter. Because our memories are mine. My memories are ours. Everything is there. Everything is complete.”

“But do you know what that—that ‘whole’ does?” Jack asked. “He hurts people! You two don’t like to hurt people. You never have. So how can you let this—this black magic do things like that?”

“It doesn’t matter. We need to be complete.” They stand up. “Back off. Or we’ll make you.”

Jack clutched his chest, as if this was physically hurting his heart. “No,” he whispered. “I already said so. We can’t let you.”

“One more chance,” they warned. “We will open this.” They pointed at the box—no. At the spot on the floor where the box had been. But it wasn’t there anymore. When they glanced down and saw that, they froze. Then looked up, towards the back of the room. Schneep, who’d jumped behind the two while the rest of the group was distracting them, had slowly pulled the box away, dragging it out of the circle. The moment the silence fell, he realized that the jig was up. And he picked up the box.

“No!” The two broke up. Jackie lunged backwards towards Schneep and tackled him to the ground, where the two of them struggled over the box. Marvin ran forward towards the other three, blue strings of light appearing around him, reaching forward.

Jameson pulled up his shield, diverting the strings to either side. Chase pulled his gun out of his belt and pointed it towards Marvin. “We don’t want to hurt you!” He shouted.

“Oh, shu̧ţ ̴u̵p,” Marvin snarled. He pounded on the shield with a fist. “We don̢'͟t̸ ̵c̵ar͢e.̧”

Schneep suddenly cried out as Jackie threw him backwards, hitting the draped windows. Now clutching the box, Jackie retreated to the circle in the center of the room, kneeling on the floor again. The burnt circle sizzled, like embers coming to life, and suddenly huge red spikes shot out from the black circle, each half the size of a person and sharp as a knife. Jackie was now defended in the middle, as he struggled to open the box.

“Fuck!” Chase darted out from behind the shield, running towards Schneep. But a blue string wrapped around his ankle, lifting him up. He yelped in surprise, dropping the gun. Jameson looked towards him and made a gesture like he was throwing something. A light blue disc sailed through the air, slicing through the darker blue of the string and dropping Chase to the floor. Unfortunately, as a result of this magic, the part of the shield covering himself flickered a bit. Just enough for two different strings to snake through and wrap around him, pinning his arms. The rest of the shield then died.

“Schneep, get Marvin, I got Jackie!” Jack shouted, jumping straight into a sprint to avoid more of Marvin’s strings.

“Right!” Schneep got to his feet, now holding two pairs of scissors, one in each hand. His eyes briefly glowed turquoise, and he disappeared. Then he reappeared behind Marvin, practically on top of his back. “Jamie! Catch!” He threw one of the scissors in Jameson’s general direction. It clattered to the floor, and Jameson immediately got down, awkwardly picking them up while his arms were still pinned. Meanwhile, Schneep held the open blade of the scissors to Marvin’s throat. “Sorry about this.”

Marvin shrieked, grabbing Schneep’s arm and trying to push him away. But Schneep held fast, trying to keep the blade close, but not touching. Unfortunately, after one particularly hard shove from Marvin, he overcorrected. The blade sliced—not through Marvin’s skin, though. Instead, the scissor blade cut through the green stitches holding his neck wound closed. Immediately, Marvin cried out, finally managing to push past. He leaned forward, bracing against the wall, and made several uncomfortably harsh choking sounds as the strings wriggled out, falling to the floor. They inched past Schneep, heading towards the circle where Jackie was.

Meanwhile, Jack and Chase had met up on the edge of the circle of spikes, giving each other unsure looks. Slowly, Chase raised his gun again. “Jackie!” He shouted. “Put the box down!”

Jackie ignored him, frustratingly prying at the seam where the lid met the rest of the box. He growled, and the spikes got a little longer, forcing Jack and Chase to back up. “Shit, okay, not the way to do it,” Jack muttered. He hesitated, then reached out and touched one of the spikes. Immediately, he withdrew his hand, hissing. “They’re, like, hot or something.”

“Right. Okay.” Chase took a deep breath, then pulled the trigger on his gun.

The BANG! filled the small room. The bullet hit one of the spikes, shattering it like ceramic. Jack and Chase covered their faces, but bits of the shards still cut their arms. Jackie, to the side of the spike when it shattered, cried out as shards bit into his arm as well. One of them sliced right through the green string wrapped tightly around his wrist, which fell to the floor. That finally made Jackie look up. “Go a͟w̢ay̧.”

“No,” Jack said. “In fact, we’re getting closer!” Quickly, he grabbed Chase’s arm and ran, darting into the circle through the gap caused by the broken spike.

Jackie screamed as the two of them entered the circle, and shot to his feet. “Leave us a̷l̶o͞n̕e!̡” He ran at the two of them, and Jack stepped in front of Chase, grabbing Jackie’s arm as he went to hit him. Then when Jackie’s other hand shot up, he managed to grab that one, too. He looked pretty shocked and impressed with himself, until Jackie stomped on his foot and made him let go in surprise.

But during that brief window, Chase dove forward, and managed to snatch up the box. He gave a triumphant grin, which faded as he realized he was still trapped in the circle.

Back on the other side of the room, Jameson finally cut through the strings with the scissors, quickly regaining his feet. Marvin, recovering from the slice, noticed this. “F͝a̶k̵e̛ magician,” he hissed, and pounced.

Before he actually got to JJ, Schneep grabbed him, knocking him to the floor. The two of them rolled across the room, struggling with each other.

Jameson quickly backed up, looking around to regain his bearings. His eyes landed on the circle of spikes, with Chase holding the box inside. Jackie had turned on him, and Chase was backing up, head darting from side to side. Jameson started waving his arms, drawing Chase’s attention. Chase nodded, and got ready to throw the box.

Just then, Jackie ran at Chase and grabbed him. He still managed to throw the box, but his aim was now off, and the box landed on the floor in the corner of the room. Jameson hurried to get there, but then tripped. Another blue string. Schneep had managed to pin Marvin to the ground, but accidentally left one of his arms free, which he used to send a string to grab Jameson’s legs. Eyes wide, Jameson raised his own hand, conjuring a protective blue dome around the box.

“I’ve had ęǹo͢ug̴h͝ of this!” Jackie shouted. He made a throwing motion, and a streak of sharp red light headed straight for the box, piercing through the dome and slicing right through the coppery metal side, leaving a huge gash.

For a moment, everyone froze. For a moment, everyone was waiting.

And then the strings poured out of the new opening, moving almost like a liquid as they pooled on the floor. The strings from Marvin’s neck and Jackie’s wrist inched over to join the lump of writhing green threads. And once they were all together, the strings began to slither forward across the floor.

Jackie and Marvin started to laugh. Their eyes started to glow green, Marvin’s right, Jackie’s left. A static buzz filled the air.

“No!” Chase cried, breaking the stillness of the moment.

Jackie started to run, but Jack and Chase grabbed him and held him back. Schneep doubled down on keeping Marvin pinned, and Jameson hurried over to help. This only lasted for a moment before Jackie grabbed a knife of glowing red light and slashed at the two, cutting up their arms further, and Marvin’s strings burst outward, wrapping around Schneep and Jameson and tying them back to back. The two ran for the strings, which wriggled closer to them.

Schneep quickly cut through some of the blue strings, giving Jameson enough room to pull an arm out. A blue sphere enveloped the green strings, flying into the air where it hovered near the ceiling, keeping them temporarily contained in a glowing bubble. Marvin and Jackie shrieked in frustration.

“God damn it,” Chase muttered, pressing a hand against a particularly nasty cut on his upper arm. He looked up at Jackie and Marvin, just in time to see Jackie holding another red knife, gearing up for a throw. “JJ, watch it!”

The sphere jerked to the side, just in time to avoid the streak of red, which embedded itself in the ceiling. Marvin tried next, blue strings shooting forward to try and wrap around the sphere. It dodged them, weaving through the air in a series of maneuvers, but Jameson was starting to look a bit strained. Schneep was about halfway through the strings binding them.

“Chase?” Jack glanced at him, then nodded at Jackie and Marvin. He nodded back.

The two were distracted, standing beneath the sphere and shooting magic towards it, attempting to get it down. Jameson was fully concentrated on keeping it out of their grasp. He didn’t even notice when Schneep finally cut through the last of the strings. But he was slowly losing speed, the sphere becoming a little bit more unwieldy every second. One of Jackie’s knives sliced through the side, and he diverted focus to fixing that before the green strings could escape. In the process, the sphere temporarily stopped, and Marvin’s strings started to wrap around it.

Luckily, before they could get a good grasp, Chase and Jack sprang forward, grabbing Jackie and Marvin, respectively. “Take it now!” Jack shouted, knowing they couldn’t hold them much longer.

The sphere lurched through the air, crashing down on top of Jameson and Schneep and immediately breaking up. Schneep took off his coat and used that to catch the strings as they fell, wrapping up the bundle so none of them could escape.

“Give them b͞a͢ck̴!” The two yelled.

Anticipating an attack, Chase let go and ducked, barely missing a whirl of blue magic strings. Jack wasn’t so quick, and cried out as a red glowing blade lodged itself in his side, losing his grip and staggering backwards. The two rushed forward the moment they were free, and Jameson barely managed to conjure a shield in time. They slammed into it, stumbled back for a few seconds, and then immediately pressed forward against the blue magic, their expressions twisted viciously.

“You...two...” Jack panted. “You have to let this go! Let them go!”

“They are p͢ar̵t͝ óf̀ u͝s̛!” They cried. 

And for a moment, Jack hesitated. They all did. Because wasn’t it true, on some level? Those strings were black magic, but trapped in their twisted fibers were actual bits of Marvin and Jackie’s souls. Would it be cruel, separating them from those shattered remains?

But what would happen? What would happen if the strings took hold of them? The magic they were made of was a poison. The two would be poisoned in turn, and the rest of them would have to fight back once again, starting everything over. That couldn’t happen. Something had to change. “We’re sorry,” Jack whispered. “But we have to.”

The two snarled, and shoved forward, breaking through the shield. Jameson backed up, raising his hands to defend himself, but the attack never came. Because the strings weren’t there. Schneep had been holding them, and Schneep wasn’t there anymore.

In unison, the two whirled around, and saw him. Schneep was standing against the far wall, his eyes glowing turquoise with black scleras. His coat was wrapped around the strings, but they still struggled against the fabric. Sensing the attention on him, he raised the scissors, and made a slashing motion. And the world...the world was sliced. A tear opened up in the air, beyond which could be seen only darkness.

“Ņ̴͓̹͞o̸̩̟̪̬̥͎!̡͇͞” The two started to rush at him, but they were just too far away. Schneep threw the ball of fabric just as a few green threads started to slip from in between the folds. It was a perfect throw. For just a second, the ball of strings was frozen in the middle of its arc, a few strands trying to escape but not fully able to.

And then, with an anticlimactic quietness, the strings slipped through the rip in the air and disappeared from this world for good.

The two screamed, piercing the silence, and everyone hurried to cover their ears. Those screams could be heard all throughout the building. But then the rip closed itself up, disappearing as if it had never even been there, and they stopped. And the instant they did, the two of them collapsed, falling to the ground like puppets whose strings had been cut.

For a moment, the other four just waited, staring. What now? Was it really...over? They weren’t moving.

Then Schneep gasped. “Th-their souls!” he said. “I-I can feel them! Like with you!”

That broke the spell. Jack, Chase, and Schneep all ran forward, [getting down next to] Jackie and Marvin. They shook them, checked their pulse, called their names. JJ stayed back for a few seconds, before slowly walking closer, wary.

“They are alive, at least,” Schneep said. “Heartbeats.”

“That’s not a sign,” Chase said, shaking Marvin’s shoulder. “Remember what they were like the first time Jack grabbed the strings and Anti disappeared? Alive, but all...empty.”

“No no, I-I think this is different.” Jack tried to sound confident. “I think that, whatever happens, it’s not going to be that.” He rolled Jackie over, onto his back, noticing his eyes were closed. “Jackie? Jackie? It’s us. You need to wake up.”

They must have sat there for a couple minutes, trying their best to get a response. Jameson was just about to suggest they get out of there, when something finally happened.

It started with a small groan, then a whimper. Marvin moved first, lifting up his head before squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face in his arms with a small cry. “M-Marv...?” Chase whispered. “Are you awake?”

Another whimper. Marvin blindly reached up and grabbed at his face, pulling his mask off and dropping it before once again hiding his eyes.

“A-ahh.” That was Jackie. He opened his eyes, squinting, even though the light was fairly dim. “Wha...? Wh-where...?”

“Jackie! You’re up!” Jack laughed, beaming. “Oh thank fucking god.”

“How are you feeling?” Schneep added.

Jackie didn’t answer, turning his head to look around. “Where...am I?”

“You’re in your apartment,” Jack explained. “Do you...know what happened?”

“What...happened? I...” Jackie reached upwards, watching his hand as he turned it around. Almost as if he couldn’t quite believe it was his.

“Marvin, are you okay?” Chase asked, leaning down closer to the floor. “Do you need us to—well, we can’t turn the lights down, there’s only one ceiling lamp and there’s no dimmer. But...can we do something?”

After a moment, Marvin raised his head, covering his eyes with his hands and looking out through his fingers. “I...don’t know...what’s happening,” he said quietly. “Chase?”

“Yeah, it’s me, bro,” Chase nodded.

Marvin’s eyes darted over towards Jameson. “Who...is that?”

“That’s JJ, don’t worry, he’s a friend.” At Chase words, Jameson waved, still a bit wary but relaxing just slightly. “You’re alright, right? Are you?”

“...my neck hurts,” Marvin said quietly. “And my head.”

“Oh.” There was an open wound across Marvin’s neck. Not too deep, but definitely there. Chase tried to smile. “Well, we’ll get that fixed. Can you sit up?”

Marvin closed his eyes again, making a quiet keening sound. But he sat up. Slowly. And once he was upright, he swayed a bit in place.

“Someone tell me what happened,” Jackie said.

“Well, what do you remember?” Schneep asked.

“I...think I talked to you? And...and Chase? My chest hurt...it doesn’t...doesn’t anymore, but my head...” Jackie pressed his hands to either side of his head. “I gotta—gotta get up.”

“Oh, here.” Jack offered his hand, and Jackie let him pull him upright. “You look a bit off balance there. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Head,” Jackie repeated. He started to look around. “What happened to this pla—”

Jackie glanced to the right. Marvin glanced to the left. The two of them made eye contact. They stared for a few seconds...and then screamed. Jackie scrambled backwards until he ran into Schneep, while Marvin grabbed Chase by the shirt and buried his face in him.

Then they both seemed to lose all strength, slumping down. Jackie’s eyes glazed over, and Marvin let go of Chase’s shirt.

“What was that?!” Schneep hissed.

“I-I don’t know!” Chase shook his head, at a loss. “They saw each other and—and flipped out.” He tried to shake Marvin, but got no response. “Are they...okay?”

“I think they’re just overwhelmed,” Jack speculated, waving his hand in front of Jackie’s eyes and getting nothing. 

JJ snapped his fingers, drawing everyone’s attention. I hate to interrupt the moment, he said, but don’t you think we should get out of here? We’ve caused quite the commotion, with smashing against the walls and screaming and such. And Chase did fire a gun, as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors are calling the police.

Schneep nodded. “You are right, we have to leave here. It would be difficult to explain everything.”

“But where do we go?” Chase asked. “I don’t think we can find our way back to the magicians without, y’know, magic. A-and I don’t want to go to Stacy’s place, just in case...things...happen.”

Jack sighed. “Can I be honest, you guys?” He looked at each of them in turn. “I just want to go home.”

— — — — — — —

Opening the door led them to a disaster zone. The last time they’d been in Jack’s apartment, it was falling to pieces around them as Anti and Schneep fought, their magics colliding and tearing everything apart. Plaster had fallen from the ceiling, leaving the beams overhead exposed in some places. The paint on the walls had peeled, more plaster fallen out in chunks. Some furniture was completely unusable, and the furniture that wasn’t still leaked stuffing or was missing legs. Jack didn’t even want to look at the rest of the house.

Sighing, he reached over to turn on the lightswitch, relieved when the ceiling lamp half-dangling from the ceiling still turned on. He stepped inside, feet crunching on the plaster, and the others followed. Chase was carrying Marvin in his arms, JJ was carrying Jackie in his. Schneep kept a hand on the wall and slowly inched into the room, not raising his feet so he wouldn’t trip over any debris he couldn’t see. “This place...is a wreck,” Chase said plainly.

“Yeah, I know, but we gotta stay somewhere, right?” Jack asked. “I figured this place was pretty safe. For now.” The sofa was mostly intact, save for the cotton tumbling out of bursts in its seams. But it was soft, and would hold weight, so Jack brushed off the plaster that had landed on it and hit the cushions a couple of times to get rid of dust. “I guess eventually we’re all gonna have to try to go home.”

Chase laughed. “I bet the landlord sold my house a month into me not showing up. God. All my stuff, gone.” He gently set Marvin down on the sofa, who blinks, briefly looks around, then curls into the broken cushions, eyes still open and glazed.

“Oh, not all of it, Chase,” Schneep says, slowly creeping around the room. “When it was clear the landlord was going to sell, Stacy had to go to collect your belongings. I think all the furniture is gone, but your clothes and things like your computer are okay. Did you ever check that spare storage room while we were with her?”

“O-oh. No, I didn’t...didn’t think to.”

JJ put Jackie down on the sofa, next to Marvin. Similarly, Jackie looked up, took in the state of the room, then just...mentally checked out. Well, my shop should still be fine, at least, JJ signed. I do own the building, after all. Henrik, what about your flat?

Chase translated the question, and Schneep shrugged. “I am not sure. I was there a few times, and everything seemed the same. But I am sure that the situation is more complicated.”

“Well, I’m probably going to be living here for a bit, at least,” Jack muttered. “So we should clean up. Um...maybe we could start by getting all this plaster into a corner of the room? A-and we should see what the damage is everywhere else.”

It was slow going. A brief look at all the rest of the rooms showed the kitchen and the living room were the worst off. The walls and ceilings were more intact in the rooms down the hall, and Jack’s room, at the very back, even had all its furniture together. So they did start by cleaning up all the plaster. Jack found his cleaning supplies in the hallway, some of which weren’t alright, but at least the broom could still be used, even with its handle snapped in half. They cleaned silently, starting by making the living room...livable, then spread out through the rest of the apartment, getting all the broken bits of ceiling and walls out of the way.

“Done in here!” Chase called from the kitchen. “With the plaster shit, anyway!” There was still a lot wrong. Cabinet doors had fallen off, every single dish was shattered, and the table was missing one of its legs and part of its surface. He didn’t even want to think about all the perishable foods that had no doubt gone bad inside the fridge.

“Great.” Jack appeared from down the hall, white dust in his hair. “Everything’s stable in the bathroom. I even found a first aid kit, so we can wrap up these cuts. Hope we have water. I think we should, I mean, I didn’t see—oh shit!” He jumped backwards. While they were talking, Marvin had appeared in the entrance to the living room, and was now staring very intensely at Jack. “Oh my god, Marv, you scared me,” Jack breathed. “Um...is everything good?”

“What happened?” Marvin asked bluntly.

“Oh, uh, we took you and Jackie over to my place. It’s...terrible, but it was close by. So now we’re cleaning—”

“No, I don’t mean that.” Marvin’s eyes were wide and a bit wild, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his entire body visibly shook. “I mean what happened to me. A-and to Jackie too. What happened to us? What happened?!”

Jack took a step backwards. “Whoa, calm down a bit—”

“Why do we remember the same things?!” Marvin stepped forward, leaning closer. “I-I don’t understand! You know, right? Tell me. Please!”

“Marvin, please, I know you’re freaked out, but you need to breathe, okay?” Jack said, fighting the urge to step back again. “You’re just going to spiral at this rate.”

Suddenly, Jackie appeared, peering around Marvin’s shoulder. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Jackie, hi.” Jack looked back over towards Chase, who was still in the kitchen.

Nodding, Chase joined the rest of them in the hallway. “Marvin’s a bit freaked out,” he explained.

“I-I-I’m freaked out too.” Jackie tried to laugh, but it just came out as a wheeze. He wrapped his arms around himself. “A-after everything, I—we talked about it and—you guys have to know, right? You can tell us what happened, right? You can—please? Please explain. I-I’m so confused.”

Chase and Jack glanced at each other. “You go get Schneep and JJ,” Chase said. “We’ll sit down in the living room.” Jack nodded, and disappeared down the hall.

It took less than a minute for all of them to gather together. The sofa was the only piece of sitting furniture that was still usable, so they sat on the floor in a circle, unconsciously not wanting anyone to be above the others. Marvin and Jackie sat next to each other, a slight gap between them and the other four. Jack was the first to speak, clearing his throat. “So...what do you two remember?”

Marvin and Jackie glanced at each other, and Marvin made a ‘go ahead’ gesture. “W-well...chronologically,” Jackie started. “We...remember doing the spell. We did a spell, i-it was supposed to—” He took a deep breath, steadying himself. “It was supposed to make us...b-better. Stronger. But...” For a moment, his eyes glazed over, then he squeezed them shut and opened them wide again, and he pressed forward. “It didn’t work. And from there, it was just...ni-nightmares. Awful, awful things...”

“Nightmares,” Schneep muttered to himself.

Taking that as a cue to elaborate, Jackie nodded. “Like...i-images of terrible things...happening to...people.”

“Don’t say people,” Marvin said quietly. “It wasn’t just people.”

Jackie flinched. “W-well sometimes they were just faceless people. But...i-it was...you guys. Most of the time. E-even him.” He pointed at Jameson. “A-and we talked about it, and we had the exact same ones, and we’re—neither of us are sure, if we were just...imagining them, thinking really hard about these things. Or if...they were real.”

“What do you remember after that?” Chase asked gently.

“Just...a lot...of bad things,” Marvin said haltingly. “More...nightmares. Tha-that seemed to go on forever. A-and then suddenly...my chest hurt. And I was on this street, but then...things got...jumbled up. And then I was in the flat. And now I’m here.”

“I had something that was like that,” Jackie said. “With you guys, and then thing were...my thoughts all...” He put his hands on the side of his head. “Mixed up. And then there. A-and it’s weird, that was the only place where our memories were different.”

A moment of silence. Marvin and Jackie waited for the others to respond, but they just looked at each other. “Do...do we tell them?” Jack asked quietly.

“They said they wanted to know, yes?” Schneep added.

“But it’s so fucked up,” Chase whispered. “All of it.” He glanced towards the two. “Maybe we just...just keep to the basics? Not tell them about...us?”

Jameson shook his head. They’ll find out eventually, and we can’t keep it from them forever.

“Okay, but we don’t have to do it all now,” Jack said.

Schneep huffed. “I think we should. Ripping off the band-aid, as it is.”

“What if they get overwhelmed?” Chase asked. “You remember what happened last time. And back at the apartment? They just had to look at each other to go unresponsive.”

We can check in on them as we explain, make sure everything is fine, Jameson suggested.

“I...okay, after all that, I...think we should tell them everything now,” Jack said. “It’s gonna suck for all of us, but...if we do it all together, we’re getting it all out. We won’t have to drag it out.”

Chase hesitated, but then nodded slowly. “I guess that makes sense,” he said reluctantly. “It’ll be easier to move on if nothing’s holding us back.”

“Okay, then. I’ll start.” Jack turned back to Marvin and Jackie, who looked decidedly uneasy about the explanation that was about to follow. But their expressions weren’t identical. Marvin was rocking a bit where he sat, face drawn in dread. Jackie’s eyes were wide and he leaned back, like getting distance would help. The differences made Jack relax a bit. They were two people. Not halves of a whole. “Well, you said you remember casting a spell, right? We figured out what it was for. And that it went wrong. When the spell was over...both of you...were dead.”

Explaining everything took nearly an hour. Jack laid the groundwork, explaining what Anti was and the early days of haunting them, with the others jumping in to add their experiences. Jameson, of course, couldn’t tell his experiences by himself, as neither Jackie nor Marvin understood sign language. So Jack translated that as well.

They progressed to how Anti slowly took them out. Chase took off his bandanna briefly, showing the stitches that remained, and Jameson did the same with his mask. Schneep told the story behind why he couldn’t see anymore, and Jack explained why one of his eyes was a slightly different blue. For many of these moments, it was the first time they’d said anything about what happened to them, about all the physical and mental scars left behind. They had to pause several times to collect themselves. Ironic that they were the ones being overwhelmed by emotion, when they’d been worrying about Jackie and Marvin.

Then there was the discovery of what Anti was, them fleeing to Stacy’s house, finally taking Anti apart, and keeping Jackie and Marvin—in their distant, not-quite-there state—away from the strings that remained. Marvin and Jackie sat quietly through everything, nodding when the others asked if they were still listening, if they were okay, but not saying anything. Finally, Jack, his voice now hoarse, told them about what had happened that evening, ending with bringing the two of them to the apartment.

And it was all out there. They waited for a response, but got none. Jackie’s eyes had glazed over again, and Marvin had stopped rocking and was just leaning against the base of the sofa. “I guess it was a lot,” Chase said. “Hey.” He started to reach forward, but then stopped, not knowing if either of them wanted to be touched. “It’s fine if you two need some time. That would make sense. Don’t worry about it.”

“Is it okay if we keep cleaning up around you?” Schneep asked gently.

Nothing. Then, after a few seconds, Jackie nodded.

“Alright.” Schneep stood up, and was soon followed by the other three. “We will try to be quiet about it.”

They left, discussing in low voices what to do next. The living room was left alone for now, as none of them wanted to disturb Jackie or Marvin. So they dispersed throughout the rest of the house. Jack took Chase into the bathroom, and the two of them used up all the first aid kit’s bandages on their various wounds. JJ started with the kitchen. It looked like all ceramic dishes had been shattered, but the trash bin was intact, so he started sweeping all the broken pieces into there. Schneep did his best to get order together in the bedrooms, feeling around for things that were too broken to salvage.

At some point, Chase joined Schneep in the spare bedroom, where he found something under a fallen shelf. It took both of them to get it out, one to hold the shelf, the other to grab it. “You want to keep that, yes?” Schneep asked.

“Of course,” Chase said. “But, uh...h-hang on, I’ll be right back.”

He returned to the living room. Jackie and Marvin were still sitting on the floor, turned slightly away from each other. Chase cleared his throat. “Hey, uh...so. I found this.” He held up the object in question—his weighted blanket. “Jack got it for me a while ago, but like...it’s supposed to help with anxiety and stuff, and it does kinda work, so...I thought you guys might want it.” Walking over, he set the blanket on the sofa. “It’s heavier than you expect, ha. But...yeah. I’ll just leave it here.” He backed up, then turned to leave.

Before returning to the hall, he heard the slight rustle of fabric, and glanced back to see they’d pulled the blanket off the sofa and were now sharing it. Chase smiled softly, then left, heading back towards the bedrooms.

All the digital clocks had stopped functioning, but the analog clock in the kitchen slowly ticked through the minutes. Eventually, the apartment was made livable again. There was still the problem of the broken ceiling and occasionally broken walls, not to mention the furniture that was now unusable. But livable was the ideal.

As they finished up, the boys would occasionally glance into the living room, asking the two if they were okay. There was never a spoken response, but eventually, Jackie started to nod, and then Marvin. And then they stood up and moved to the sofa. And eventually, Jackie started walking around the room, pushing the plaster and broken bits of furniture into the corner. Marvin dusted rubble off the sofa and half-intact coffee table, then tried to put the stuffing back into the torn pillows. It took both of them a while, dazed as they were, but once the rest of the boys were done with the apartment, they were done with the living room.

The clock read 12:35. Judging by the darkness outside, that meant midnight. Everyone was exhausted, but they were also hungry. Most of the food in the kitchen was ruined, but there were boxes of dry pasta and a single, large pot. The water worked. It only took another half hour to make the pasta and scoop it into six tupperware boxes, those being the only bowl-like things to survive fully intact. The utensils were okay, too. No glasses, so they used more tupperware.

Once the food was ready, Jackie and Marvin joined the others in the kitchen/dining room. They took the only two chairs left and sat at the half-table to eat while the other four stood at the counter or sat on the floor. Everyone ate silently.

Now the clock read 1:20. “I think...” Jack spoke up for the first time in a while. “...we should go to bed.”

Jameson nodded. The beds are alright. And there are still blankets in the closet. We might have to double up.

“Doubling up is fine for me,” Jack said. “Chase? Schneep?”

“Yes, fine,” Schneep agreed, yawning.

“I’ll just sleep on the floor again,” Chase mumbled. “My sleeping bag is alright.”

“Are you sure, Chase? It is all dusty, and there could be things inside that we missed,” Schneep said.

“I...” Chase hesitated. Then he took a deep breath. “Alright. I can double up with someone. But can we put a pillow or something in between?”

“That’s fine, Chase,” Jack said. “You can stay with me.”

What about these two? Jameson asked, gesturing to Jackie and Marvin.

“Well...” Jack looked at them. “Do you two want to have a bedroom, or are you okay with the living room? Or, uh, I have my recording room, but that’s kind of a mess, computer parts all over.”

No answer for a bit. Then Marvin held up two fingers.

“The second option?”

He nodded.

“Alright. Jackie, what about you? Do you want the same?”

Jackie nodded too.

“Okay, then. We’ll bring you guys some blankets,” Jack said. “And some spare pillows.”

And slowly, everyone drifted off. They made up the beds, gave Jackie and Marvin any blankets and pillows they could find, and one by one, they all went to sleep. Jameson went first, Schneep following soon after, closing the door to the spare bedroom. Then Jack, disappearing into his own room.

Chase lingered for a bit, cleaning up dinner as much as possible. He yawned, and eventually concluded there was only so much he could do. So he headed out.

“Um...Chase?”

The soft question made him jump. He turned to see Jackie standing awkwardly in the doorway to the living room. Behind him, Marvin was lying on the sofa, Chase’s blanket pulled up to his neck, facing away from them with his head cushioned by two pillows. All the other blankets and pillows had been made into a bed underneath the half remains of the coffee table.

“Y-yeah, Jackie?” Chase asked. “Is everything okay?”

Jackie hesitated. “I...everything you told us...it really happened. Some of the memories th-that Marvin and I share, they...line up.”

“Oh.” Those memories weren’t really theirs, were they? They were Anti’s. “I see.”

Jackie took a deep breath. “Which is why...I’m sorry, Chase. I-I’m so, so sorry.” Tears started to gather in his eyes. “I-I don’t even know if I can apologize, but I really am, I feel so fucking sorry, a-and I just hope that—I just want you to know that—”

“Hey, Jackieboy.” Chase stepped forward, gently grabbing Jackie’s hand and holding it. “It’s fine. You weren’t...yourself. There was some black magic going on, and it...made things different.”

“...but still...” Jackie whispered.

Chase smiled softly. “It’s okay. I forgive you. And Marvin, too. Tell him that.”

Jackie nodded. “He’s sorry too, you know.”

“I know.” Chase squeezed his hand. “It’s late. You should go to sleep.”

“Alright. Alright.” Jackie let go, and backed up. “Good night.”

“Good night, Jackie.” Chase waited for him to get under the blankets of the bed under the table. He watched for a minute, and then turned to go, walking down the hall to the room at the end. 

And for the first time in years, everyone rested. Truly, fully, at peace.

[thisbluespirit]

Fic Writer Tag Game

I was tagged to do this by @allegoriesinmediasres but it had already gone round Dreamwidth this last week, so I did it there.  I’ll try and c+p it over here, too!

1) How many works do you have on AO3? 620 (but I've been writing a lot of short things since around 2006-7, and there might even still be a couple of the 1994-98 fic from the newsgroups up). 2) What’s your total AO3 word count? 1,476,147 (but this does include about 300,000 words of origfic for RaTs and rainbowfic that are collected into three works, so it doesn't affect the works no too much, but it does affect the wordcount.) 3) How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? Too many to list here!  A lot.  *nods* 4) What are your top 5 fics by kudos? People, it's still Miss Marple.  Maybe one day it won't be Miss Marple, but today is not that day. (ETA: whenever i do my top AO3 fic on these memes, it’s disproportionately Miss Marple.  I am bemused.) Miss Marple: The Spirit of St Mary Mead So We Meet at Last Not Miss Marple: it's the rain that will strengthen your soul (SW Prequels) Five Times the Doctor Got in the Way of Captain Janeway (and One Time They Got Along Just Fine) (DW/ST) By the Book (Origfic) (Oh, wow, By the Book keeps moving up.  It must get recced sometimes, somewhere, mustn't it?  0_o ♥) 5) Do you respond to comments, why or why not? Yes.  Fanfic is a lot my way of being social, which is why I don't get along with the new push-button web much.  Like, kudos is fine, ok, but I just wanted to talk to people, and via fic always seems to be one of the nicest ways to do it. 6) What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? Oh, I don't know. I like being bleak sometimes when I feel like it.  It might be the EatD one with the two Generals, but honestly there were a few in my mid-illness old bleak telly watching years, and the Level 7 one or the one from Children of the Damned might be even more so?  Or some S&S stuff, too?  I mean, I wrote S&S plane crash fic and weird drabbles.  (I blame my fandoms!  It's not my fault!  *innocent*) Also I keep doing Clara splinter fic, so I keep killing Clara and it's always sadder than I expect when I get there.  You'd think I'd learn by now, or just not kill this splinter, but, nooo, hey, how about MORE Clara splinter death, self?  /o\ Oh, no, wait: it's probably Spooks!  Spooks is also bleak and how about my tiny ficlet of death, Litany of the Fallen? Oh, actually, if I listen to people who aren't me, it's that B7 Avon/Servalan one, which I was always a bit: BUT I WROTE ONE WHERE THEY WON about it and everyone else was all THIS IS THE WORST in the comments.  Sorry? The Quality of Mercy (Is Most Definitely Strained)  (I still think the ending of Compendium is more angsty!  It has double death!) (Ok, it's me.  I like being bleak and angsty when I'm doing it.  I'm less sure when someone else is doing it at me, of course. ;-p) 7) What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? I honestly don't know.  I'm usually kind of gen and happy and sometimes even humorous, and keep canon's tone, and DW is fairly light most of the time. I tried searching on Happy, but I have never tagged anything as happy.  But probably it is an AAL! thing, because AAL! is happiness in b&w TV form basically.  Maybe of Of Human Bondage (or Five Times Adam and His Friends Found Themselves All Tied Up)?  But I like all the AAL! ones I wrote for Yuletide, because they were the ones where I tried to be closest to an episode, and that makes them the most fun to re-read. 8) Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written? I have a crossover in my top 5, so yes.  I'm a DW fan; crossovers are just far too obvious a temptation when you've got a TARDIS.  What DW fic writer hasn't managed at least one once somewhere?  And I might have, um, written a lot of them.  (AO3 says 126). I did once, way back in newsnet times, when we were having a debate over what you could and couldn't cross DW over with (and I was on Team You Can Cross It With Anything You Cowards), write a DW/Rainbow drabble.  But I don't think I put that on AO3.  I think it might be on Teaspoon.   In AO3 works, I think by far the silliest is the Baldrick/Steed one, which AstroGirl said I couldn't write.  (It was an Unconventional Courtship summary, not that they randomly dared me to write Baldrick/Steed.  I mean, some of my flist totally would have done if they'd thought of it, but not in this case.) 9) Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not really.  I've had some weird comments, but the nearest I've come to hate was one of the comments that time I tried to write Swan Queen fic and it wasn't happy enough for people.  (I wrote a happy one after, but the ifrst one was set quite early, Regina was still kind of evil!) 10) Do you write smut? If so what kind? Alas, no.  Although, ish, if we count my experimental elemental shipping phase, which included The Cornfield (Silver/Steel/(Sapphire)), which is the only time anyone called any of my fic sexy.  I would totally have that comment made into a medal or something.   11) Have you ever had a fic stolen? Other than the random scraping things that have gone round over the years, no. 12) Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes!  Several people have been kind enough to do this, usually into Russian, and usually (but not always!) Miss Marple. 13) Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, and no - in adwc days we all co-authored round robins, which were a blast and highly frustrating.  I think it'd be fun, but barring the odd bit of drabble tennis with various flisters back in the day, it's not really something that's worked out.  (I'm thinking, I could have all the ideas, they could do all the writing, I could criticise?? XD) 14) What’s your all time favorite ship? My Relationships count is very misleading here, because I think it actually is (including in terms of things written for it), Sapphire/Silver/Steel, but it's a weird thing, so sometimes I tag it platonically, and sometimes I don't necessarily tag it at all for that reason, and also I think it puts people off unnecessarily.  (But it's a Lie when I don't tag it.  All my Sapphire & Silver & Steel is inherently OT3 even if no one else can see it.) 15) What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? None.  I have unposted WIPs, but I do hope to finish those, and the only posted WIP is a very old one only on Teaspoon that was begun before I was ill and I can't even really say at this point that I would want to finish it. 16) What are your writing strengths? Character/dialogue, I think?  I am actually not that bad at plot, but currently I lack the stamina for long things. I like to think I can be quite funny when I'm in the mood. 17) What are your writing weaknesses? Description, action.  Argh.  Yes, let's just talk some more, okay? 18) What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? I was going to say I would never, but actually I did!  I wrote Y Gwyll | Hinterland fic, and it wouldn't be right not to have some Welsh in that.  However, while I may be a 1/4 Welsh and know some Welsh words, I don't actually speak it, so I had to turn to Llywela who was very kind and translated the sentences I needed.  (I added the English translation in the footnote.)  This was the fic, but basically language is important in canon (ironically maybe even more so in the Eng-lang version I watched than the original Welsh), and so it was also important in the fic. So, probably if it was a canon where it was required, then I would do what I could to get help to get it right?  The good thing about the internet is that you can usually find someone, although usefully for me, I already knew someone. 19) What was the first fandom you wrote for? Doctor Who! 20) What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? I'm going to wimp out on this along with everyone else.  Although... if any of you have a fave fic of mine, that would be very cool to hear!  (But I don't expect anyone to.) Sometimes I'm pleased enough with the latest to feel it's that, but that's not always the case, and it isn't currently.  (No, offence, Latest Works!  I like you, it just only happens once in a while, usually when I've managed something I've wanted to do for years.)

I won’t tag anyone, because I know lots of people also did this on Dreamwidth, but it’s always VERY cool to see people’s answers to these things and memes are for stealing.

[even-after-a-millennia]

the water will not claim me (she already has)

Andromaquynh fic about them and water throughout the years.  Huge thanks for 1k followers!

Read below or on ao3 here.

 I.

Water was hard to come by in the desert, but Andromache couldn’t let the woman she had found die from dehydration again.  Tilting her head back, she gave her the last bit of water from her waterskin.  Andromache watched as the woman swallowed weakly, eyes fluttering.  

Standing, Andromache grabbed one of her arms and hefted her over her shoulders.  She felt the woman’s weak exhalation of breath against her arm.  

And she walked.

Step after step, she moved closer to her destination.  On the way to finding this woman, unable to resist the despair she felt from her every time Andromache dreamt, she had found a small green area a day’s walk away.  With the added weight on her back, it took two mind-numbing, grueling days to return.  

Andromache kept moving, even as she felt the woman waste away on her back.  It would do no good to stop and check on her.  What could she do to help now?

She kept walking.

Finally, they arrived.  Andromache laid the woman gently propped up against a rock, then went to refill her waterskin.  The woman didn’t wake as she returned.

“Hey,” Andromache said, shaking her shoulder lightly.  No response.  Putting some water into her hand, Andromache brought it to the woman’s lips.  They parted, taking in the drink.  

Dark eyes drifted slightly open, unseeing.  Undeterred, Andromache lifted the waterskin to her lips and tilted it, letting the water dribble in.

The woman coughed, eyes coming alive as she realized what was happening.  She lifted an arm to reach for the skin, but Andromache easily batted it away.

“Slowly, slowly,” Andromache encouraged.  

Her voice must have cut through the haze of the woman’s mind, as she looked up at Andromache.

Their eyes met and Andromache felt the loneliness that she had worn as a shroud for centuries fall away as they gazed at each other.

II.

After the battle, they were all covered in filth and sweat.  Lykon was the only one of them that hadn’t suffered a fatal blow at some point and he loudly complained about their stench, laughter in his eyes.  They were all so used to one another that it was nothing to all undress and climb into the gentle river they found together.

“I will look for a meal,” Lykon said, clean long before either of them.

“Thank you, brother,” Andromache replied, taking a moment to just float in the slow movement of the water.

“I expect to see you for food before sundown!  Do not get so distracted you disappoint me!” he called as he walked away.  Andromache may have taken him more seriously if laughter hadn’t rang through his voice.

“Yes, yes, we promise…”

As soon as he was out of sight, Quynh pushed through the water towards Andromache, who turned instinctively to receive an armful of her love.

“Do you think we will actually get back for the meal?” Quynh asked.

“If not,” Andromache said, pushing Quynh’s long, wet hair away from her face, “we are lucky Lykon is more forgiving than we deserve.”

III.

The fact that Cairo’s public baths were divided for females and males was not a deterrence to Andromache’s little band of immortals.  In fact, it was somewhat of a blessing.  Despite loving each other for over three hundred years now, Yusuf and Nicoló still acted as if they had just wed yesterday.  

After they parted at the entrance, Andromache turned to Quynh and asked, “We were never so caught up in each other, were we?”

Quynh smiled, but her eyes were sad.  Andromache knew what she was going to say before the words left her mouth, as she knew who brought that look to her love’s face.

“I think Lykon would disagree with you, trái tim,” she replied.

Andromache scoffed, but moved to hold Quynh’s hand only to have their hands meet halfway.  They looked down, considered their intertwined fingers, then burst out laughing.

“Very well, I am bested.  We are just as bad,” Andromache said, pulling Quynh further into the bath.

IV.

England was dreary.  There was no other word for it.  Clouds hung above them with weak sunlight poking through.  It drizzled most days without end.  And people were dying of false accusations of witchcraft.

Their tiny house in the woods was their only sanctuary from the madness of the world around them.  Every day, they tried to help those they could.  And every night, they retreated back to their small one room with walls and a roof and collapsed together, soaked through and exhausted.

In the middle of the night, Quynh shook Andromache awake.

“What?  What is it?” Andromache demanded, instantly awake and weapon in hand.

“It is finally really raining, ánh nắng của tôi.  It is like a monsoon out there,” Quynh said, looking outside with a soft smile gracing her lips.

Andromache groaned and fell back into bed, dropping her ax back onto the floor.  “Wonderful, I am very glad.  May I sleep now?”

Quynh turned to her and shook her head, pulling her long nightgown off until she was just in her shift.  “We should not waste this weather.”

“What do you mean?” Andromache asked, instantly more awake.

Quynh walked slowly towards her and leaned down to whisper in Andromache’s ear.

“Dance with me.”

She turned and walked out the door.  In a moment, her shift was soaked through but she merely lifted her arms and face to the sky, letting the rain cascade down her.

Then she turned her head to look back at Andromache, sitting stunned in their bed as she stared at the woman who held her heart.

“Are you joining me?” Quynh asked.

Andromache had lived over five thousand years and over the millennia, she had developed a grace in her way of moving that came from battlefields and training.  That said, she scrambled out of bed and her nightgown in her rush to get out to Quynh.

In that moment, the ugliness of their day to day work faded from mind and all Andromache knew was Quynh’s laugh, her cold lips curled into a smile even as they kissed, and her arms around Andromache as they danced in the downpour.

V.

Andy hated coming back to England.  The rain seemed to mock her.

Of course, their assignment had been on the coast.  It was finished now, but still, she had come back to the water.  The vast ocean stretched out in front of her, crashing into the shore and soaking her bare feet.  Her shoes lay forgotten in the sand.

It had been two hundred years since they had given up the search.  More than that since she and Quynh had danced in the rain that night.  The ache was old, but here, in the ocean where somewhere in its depths, Quynh lay trapped and dying… that ache turned into a burn in her chest.

The waves at her feet were the closest she had gotten to touching Quynh in a very long time.

She knelt in the water, uncaring about the ridiculous clothes this century required her to wear.  When she got back to their safe house, she would don trousers and be freer.  For now, she let the layers of fabric soak through around her, weighing her down with each wave.

“Anh nhớ em,” she whispered, and the burn in her chest flared into an inferno.

Joe and Nicky found her there hours later.  The tide had gone out but still, she sat, soaked through and staring blankly out towards the ocean.

+1

As she settled into the jacuzzi bathtub in their latest Air D and D, or whatever Nile called it, Andy let out a deep sigh of relief.  While her muscles had already recovered from the strain of the mission, she still let the warmth soothe away any remnants of pain.  She leaned back and closed her eyes.

The bathroom door opened and closed but she didn’t have to look to know who was there.

There was a rustle of fabric and that, that made Andy turn to watch as Quynh took off her dirtied outfit.  Some things never grew old, no matter how much time had passed.

“Baths have truly come a long way in the time I was gone,” Quynh said, settling into the v between Andy’s legs.  The water splashed a bit as she moved, but as she settled, so did the small waves.

“The world is definitely better for it,” Andy agreed, dropping a kiss on her love’s bare shoulder.

It took them a long time to get here, Quynh’s back to Andy’s front, submerged in warm, scented water in the 21st century.

Andy may always resent the centuries taken from them and the pain they had both gone through to get to this moment.  But now, her arms around her heart long gone from her, she let those feelings fade away in the water and pulled her closer.

They soaked together, unspeaking, as calm as the water around them.

Translations thanks to @hottopicmonk on tumblr: trái tim - heart

ánh nắng của tôi - my sunshine

anh nhớ em - I miss you

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (13/18)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

ao3: beginning | current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 

-/-

“Okay, so I would recommend doing a buffet. I know a lot of people stupidly think that’s tacky, but it’s not. That way you have a constant flow of food and people aren’t sitting down waiting. The one thing you don’t want is people tapping their foot waiting for you two to be done with pictures so they can eat.”

“Do pictures take that long?” Liam asks.

“Oh my God, Liam,” Anna sighs through the phone, “we have been over this. Yes, pictures do take that long. This is a special day, and you’re going to want to remember it from every possible angle. Plus, you have to have pictures with family and friends, and it’s not a simple thing with a one, two click. Don’t you ever listen? I feel like you have to listen. You better be listening when my sister is trying to talk to you. She deserves a man who listens.”

“Anna, take a breath,” Elsa sighs.

“I don’t know how you’re planning a wedding with this man. I feel like I have to keep repeating myself.”

“You know,” Emma murmurs, rolling her eyes at Elsa, “there is also the option to have all of the pictures done before the actual ceremony. A lot of couples are doing that now. You can have private time with each other so that Liam isn’t seeing Elsa for the first time in front of all of these people, and it can also streamline the time between the ceremony and the reception.”

“But that first look during the ceremony is so special!” Anna whines. “You don’t want to miss out on that!”

Elsa looks up from her phone to look at Liam, and they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. Emma meets with different couples several times a week, sometimes several times a day, and while she’s used to there being questions and disagreements, she’s not used to have the bride’s professional event planner sister asking a million and two questions over FaceTime.

It’s fine, really. Anna is lovely, but she’s a lot to deal with. Emma is so used to spending time with Elsa and it being calm and soothing, so this is throwing her for a bit of a loop.

At least Liam is being nice. He’s been…kinder lately. Emma should question it when he usually likes to be a bit of an ass to her, but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Why did she just think that phrase?

Why is that even a phrase to begin with? Who is look a horse in the mouth? Why is it a gift?

“I think taking pictures before the actual ceremony sounds nice,” Elsa finally says, “and so does the buffet. Do you have servers or is it self-serve?”

“We have servers so people aren’t sticking their hands in the food.”

“Perfect. Can you remind me again of the contingency plan for if it rains?”

Elsa and Liam spend another forty-five minutes talking about different options and scenarios with Emma, most of that time spent talking with Anna and listening to plans, but eventually, they’ve covered everything they can and are ready to leave. Emma’s got an appointment with another couple in fifteen minutes, so when Elsa and Liam walk out of her office, she expects them to walk away and go back to work.

She decidedly does not expect Liam to linger around.

“Did you forget something?” Emma laughs, leaning against her doorframe.

“Oh, nothing big. Elsa simply forgot to ask if you were going to bring a date. Anna’s got her obsessing over making sure the envelopes are all addressed correctly, and for some reason she was tripping up over yours.”

“I promise you that I will not be weirdly offended if you guys give me an envelope that says Emma Swan instead of Emma Swan and guest. And tell her not to stress about that stuff. If someone gets offended over how an envelope is addressed, you probably don’t want them at your wedding to begin with.”

Liam chuckles and leans down against the arm of the chair that sits outside she and Mary Margaret’s office. “So, no date?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I’ve still got a month. Maybe I’ll magically fall in love again. Or at least meet a cute guy who would look good on my arm. Or, hey, maybe I can take Killian. He’s a good dancer, would be a hell of a wedding date. I feel like we should probably be each other’s default wedding dates at this point, you know?”

Liam’s smile falters, but it’s just for a second. If she wasn’t used to having to try to read him, she wouldn’t have noticed because just as quickly as it falters, the smile reappears. “He’s seeing someone, you know, so who knows? He might take her.”

“The same someone?” Emma asks before she can stop herself.

“I think so. You still don’t know who she is? I mean – you know, never mind. I told Killian I would stop interfering with his personal life, and I meant it. I can’t keep going behind his back and trying to get information from his friends.”

Emma arches a brow, and she takes a deep breath. Her heart is racing all of the sudden, and she desperately needs it to calm down.

Is this why Liam is being nicer? Because he and Killian had some kind of talk about Liam being too much into Killian’s business? She knew they got into an argument, but how does that translate to her?

Fuck.

Did Killian tell Liam that she was the one he was sleeping with?

No, no, that wouldn’t make sense. Then Liam wouldn’t be asking her if she knew who it was. He can be invasive, but he’s not about to go all FBI or something on her. And Killian wouldn’t do that. It’s against their rules.

“I think that’s probably a good idea on your part,” Emma sighs, pushing off the doorframe. “I don’t know if I’m bringing a date or not yet. Tell Elsa to stop freaking out over the little things, and if Anna gets to be too much, I’m always here to talk about the practical side of things.”

“Thank you for all of this, by the way.”

“It’s my job, but I’m happy to do it. Now go, Elsa is waiting on you, and I’m sure Killian is tired of manning the office by himself.”

“Please,” Liam laughs, “he and Skipper are probably enjoying the silence.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that. I’m technically supposed to keep my clients happy. Once I’m off the clock, though, all bets are off.”

“I understand. Goodbye, Emma.”

“Bye.”

Emma waves him away, and as soon as he turns the corner down the hall, she sees her next couple. They’re early. They almost always are, and she thinks they might have the same enthusiasm as Anna does…if not more since they ask for yet another tour of the entire grounds because they’re just not sure of what exactly it is that they want yet.

It takes some kind of herculean strength not to scream since this is the fifth tour she’s given them, and their wedding isn’t until next July.

That’s a year that she has to deal with them.

A year.

Why does she do this again?

Oh, yeah, because most days it’s not that bad, and she usually doesn’t go down the wormhole that is thinking the entire wedding industry is a sham and wondering why people get married in the first place.

Is it for the wedding or the actual marriage?

For at least half of her clients, it’s only for the wedding. She’s obviously not some kind of expert on healthy relationships and only does this because she isn’t qualified to do much else that will pay her this well, but at least she knows that it’s fucked up.

When she finally gets the Taylors out of the club, Emma sighs in relief.

And her stomach growls.

It’s the middle of the afternoon, but she hasn’t eaten all day. Damn, she could go for whatever it is they served for lunch in the dining halls today, even if it’s probably cold right now. Emma checks her phone to make sure she doesn’t have any emails or last-minute appointments, and then she heads down the hallways and through the nearly empty main dining room to get to the kitchen.

Her phone dings in her hand, and she stops walking to look at it.

Killian: Why is my brother asking you if you’re bringing a date to his wedding?

Emma: He said something about Elsa being worried about how to address the envelope.

Emma: Wait. How do you know about that?

Emma: Did he tell you that I said I was bringing you? Because I was joking? Kind of. I don’t actually have a date or plan on having one, but you would technically be the most fun date of anyone in the city.

Killian: Why, Swan, are you asking me out?

Emma: Shut up.

Killian: I would love to go with you, for what it’s worth. I promise I’ll be a better wedding date than your last one.

Emma: That’s not much of a bar you have to leap over.

Emma: Do you want to get dinner tonight? I get off at seven.

She waits for the little bubbles to pop up immediately like they have been, but they don’t. Emma doesn’t think anything of it and stuffs her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and starts walking toward the kitchen again only to see Neal and his dad sitting at the table closest the kitchen entrance.

Dammit.

She should have gone through the back doors, but this way was closer.

What the hell is he doing here?

This is where she works.

Yeah, it’s a public place (if you pay a ridiculous member’s fee, which they unfortunately pay), but something being a public place doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he wants to.

This is her space, not his. They broke up, and there’s got to be some kind of unwritten rule that he simply doesn’t show up to her place of work.

He’s already always at Granny’s, which is bad enough, and then there was the fair and the one time she saw him when she had to go to Target for some new pillows.

But this? This is different?

They could have lunch at fifty different places, and the asshole knows it.

He also knows that she’s just spotted him because he’s staring right at her.

Shit.

Does she turn around and walk away or does she walk straight toward them, ignore them, and then head into the kitchen where she hopes Neal has the decency not to follow her in?

Emma doesn’t really get to make the choice, though, because Neal is standing from his chair and walking right toward her, the smile she used to love plastered on his face.

Was it always that disturbing? Did it always look so much like his dad’s?

“Emma,” he calls out. She bites her tongue. She cannot say anything dumb here. It could get her fired. His family are members here, and she doesn’t think Regina is going to give her a pass because of her personal business with them. In fact, she knows that she won’t. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Wonderful,” Emma says. It’s not a lie. She’s not doing wonderful at this particular moment, but in general, she’s a lot better than she was the last time she was this physically close to him. “Are you enjoying your lunch? Is there anything that I can get you?”

His head tilts to the side, and his smile widens. “Oh, come on, Ems, you don’t have to be in work mode with me. We’re friends.”

Emma grits her teeth and takes another deep breath. She’s sure everyone in Storybrooke can hear them. Her dentist is going to be thrilled. “We are not friends, Neal. You ended any chance of that when you started sleeping with someone else and started working with your dad again. We’ve been over this, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself again.”

“You’re not still mad about that, are you?”

Seriously.

How is this the same man that she fell in love with? Was she blind to all of this? To how absolutely inconsiderate he is about so much?

“I don’t let you take up that much space in my head anymore, but you can’t honestly believe that I’m just going to forgive you for all that you did.”

His eyes roll. They actually roll.

He’s the one who fucked up, and he’s the one who is trying to act like they’re friends. Yet he’s also the one who’s exasperated by her pushback.

What an asshole.

“It’s not like you waited around long after you ended things before you started fucking Jones? And come on, you always told me there was nothing going on between the two of you, but that’s obviously bullshit.”

What the hell?

How does he…no, there’s no way that Neal could know. No one knows, and there’s no way Neal, who never paid any attention to the little things in her life, could know.

“I’m not sleeping with Killian,” she lies, “and even if I was, it would be none of your business since it would have happened after I left you.”

“I saw you two walking around at the fair, and he got fucking defensive over it when I suggested it to him. He didn’t say it, but come on, it’s pretty damn obvious.”

Emma swallows the lump in her throat so she can focus on her breathing. It’s the only thing she can focus on right now so she doesn’t punch Neal and knock all of his teeth out.

What an asshole.

How dare he confront Killian like that? Why did Killian not tell her?

You know what? It doesn’t matter why Killian didn’t tell her. What matters is that Neal is the worst.

“Neal,” she says slowly, her teeth grinding, “you lost any right to know who I am or am not sleeping with the moment you fucked someone else, so please, unless you need something from the club that only I can give to you, leave me the hell alone.”

He blinks, almost like he’s taken aback by her, and his smile falls.

Good.

“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”

She opens her mouth, a curse at the tip of her tongue, but there’s a voice in the back of her mind that’s telling her this isn’t worth it. He’s not worth it. She’s got to stop letting him take up so much space in her head like she said she’s not. He doesn’t deserve it.

So, not for the first time, she walks away from Neal.

She walks away, knowing there’s only a half of a chance that he’ll bother to follow him, and she heads toward the kitchen. It means that she has to pass Neal’s dad, and she can feel his eyes on her.

The thing is, she doesn’t care.

That part of her life is over, and she’s not going to lie to herself and say that a part of her doesn’t still hurt and won’t hurt when she has to see Neal and Tamara, but she can’t keep dwelling on it.

This summer has been strangely good, and maybe it’s not all that strange since she’s cut Neal out of her life.

“Emma,” Harry, their head chef, exclaims when she walks into the kitchen, her heartbeat racing, “I’m just about to start dinner. Do you want something in particular?”

“What did we have for lunch? I can’t remember the schedule.”

“Pasta salad.”

“Do we have any of that left?”

“In the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.”

Emma picks up a cookie from the half-empty platter next to her. “You know that I will.”

“A cookie before dinner? Are we celebrating something?”

Emma laughs and takes another bite. “Just having a good day is all.” “Well, kid, I hope that continues for you.”

-/-

“Hello?” Emma calls out as she pushes open the front door of Jones Brothers’ Boating. The obnoxious as hell bell goes off, so everyone downstairs should be able to hear that someone has come inside, but no one comes out of any of the offices, not even Skipper.

Huh.

“Killian,” she says as she starts walking down the hallway. “KJ! Are you around?”

There’s still no answer, and when Emma checks the back offices, there’s no one in any of them. She decides to walk up the stairs to the apartment, but when she tries to turn the knob, she realizes that it’s locked.

She’s got a key, could easily let herself in, but if the apartment is locked, that means no one is home.

Where the hell are they?

Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hits Killian’s name. It rings once, twice, several more times, and then his voicemail message comes up.

Well, damn.

This is probably why she should have called first, but Killian never texted her back about the two of them getting dinner. He’s almost always free, and if he isn’t, they’re usually plans she can join in on, but he’s obviously MIA tonight.

Emma swipes through her phone again and calls Elsa.

“Hello?” Elsa questions.

“Hey, Elsa. Have you heard from Killian today?”

“He’s in the back of the ice cream shop. Do you need him?”

“Why is he in the back?”

Elsa groans, and then Emma hears some kind of curse that definitely didn’t come from Elsa. “One of my machines broke today, and when Leroy couldn’t fix it, Killian said he’d give it a go. I don’t think it’s working out for him. Hold on. Let me get him for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have – ”

“Killian,” Elsa yells, her voice booming through the speakers, “Emma is looking for you.”

“Fuck,” he mumbles.

Well, that sounds pleasant.

“I’m pretty sure she could hear that,” Elsa laughs.

“Aye, I know. I didn’t text her back about dinner. Give me the phone.” There are a few hushed murmurings, and then Killian’s voice comes in clearer. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid I can’t get dinner tonight.”

“Oh, well, that’s okay. I’ll pick something up and bring it to Elsa’s.”

She hears him click his tongue, and she’s probably imagining things, but she swears that he’s silent for a few seconds too long. “You don’t have to do that. We can do it another night.” “It’s really not a problem. I’m at your place right now, anyways. I can get us salads from Zoey’s. Does that sound good to you?”

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. I’m not really sure when I’ll have time to eat.”

“Well, maybe my brain power will help us figure out how to fix the machine.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You okay?” Emma asks, suddenly worried she’s overstepping here.

Does he not want her to come over?

No, that would be ridiculous.

“I’m perfect, love,” Killian sighs, his voice audibly more upbeat now. “I’ll see you when you get here, aye?”

“Yeah, see you when I get there.”

-/-

Elsa’s store is a mess.

Well, the front is still perfect. All of the round tables are clean and perfectly in their spots, the black and white as classic as it always is, and Elsa is still serving customers and doing custom orders for cakes and birthdays. She’s on the phone when Emma walks in, but she smiles and nods to the door that leads to the back of the store.

It is decidedly not perfect.

Mostly because it looks like Killian has taken one of Elsa’s machines apart piece by piece and he has no idea how to put it back together.

His hair is pushed off his forehead, sticking in at least thirty-seven different directions, and his t-shirt is sticking to his skin from his sweat.

He might be the only person to ever sweat here since it’s usually the coldest place in town.

Elsa’s air-conditioning bill must be insane.

“Hey,” Emma greets, putting their salads down on the table and walking up to Killian, pressing up on her toes to kiss him. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but then he’s there, his lips softly sliding over hers while his hand settles on her hip, squeezing her. “I’ve come to your rescue with food and another set of hands.”

“You’re my savior, love.”

“I know.” She kisses him again, this time much briefer, before sitting down on one of the chairs Elsa keeps back here. “Where’s Liam? Why is he not helping?”

“I’m better with fixing things. He’s manning the shop.”

“No one was there when I stopped by.” “What time was that?”

“A little after seven.”

Killian nods and pulls his salad out of the bag. “He was taking Skipper out. Thanks for this, by the way.”

“Not a problem. You think you’re going to be able to fix this?”

“I think I’m nearly there. I’ve tested it out a few times, but it’s all been for naught. Elsa is going to bloody kill me if I keep giving her hope and then take it away.”

Emma pulls their salads out of the bag, taking the lid off hers and pouring some dressing on before putting the lid back so she can shake it. “She’s got the other machines, though. Can’t she still make flavors?”

“Aye,” Killian sighs as he starts tinkering with the machine, “and she’s got a pretty good stock of all of the flavors. It’s not an emergency, but she wanted me to look at it before she called someone to come fix it. It apparently does not come cheap.”

“Look at you coming to the rescue. Getting those brownie points.”

“And access to the freezer.”

“That will balance well with our salads.” Emma stabs some lettuce with her fork. “You will never guess who was dining at the club today.”

“Cindy Crawford.”

“What?” Emma laughs as she takes a bite. “Why would Cindy Crawford be there? Also, that is the most random guess.”

Killian pokes his head out from behind the machine. “You said to guess. You didn’t say it had to be reasonable.”

“Okay, a reasonable guess then.”

“August Booth.”

“No, but that would be interesting. Is he back in town?”

“I have heard the rumor. So, who was dining at the club today?”

“Neal.”

Killian drops whatever tool he’s using, and it bangs against ice cream maker before clattering against the floor and landing near her foot. “Fuck.”

“Exactly my thoughts,” Emma laughs, kicking the screwdriver back to him. “But, you know, it wasn’t that bad. He was an asshole, of course, but it felt kind of good telling him to fuck off. He told me he thought we were sleeping together, which he apparently told you at the fair.”

“Uh, yeah, he did mention that. I denied it, of course.”

“He was always jealous of you. I don’t know why, but he hated when we spent time together.”

“Well, love, I am devilishly handsome. That’s bound to make any man jealous.” Emma rolls her eyes. She can’t see Killian’s face, but she just knows he’s smirking. “None of our actual friends have picked up on it, so there’s no way in hell Neal actually would. He doesn’t pay enough attention to me, never has.” Emma takes another bite and slams her hand down on the table. “But you know what? I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants, because I’m moving on. I’m happy and busy and life is pretty damn good even if I do have to take you as my date to your brother’s wedding.”

She keeps eating, waiting for Killian to say something, to tease her really, but she just hears him muttering to himself as he keeps working.

“You’re still cool with that, right? I know you said you’d love to, but you know, if you start dating someone else, go with her. I don’t mind going by myself.”

Killian pops out from behind the machine and walks toward her, leaning over the table and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. “There is no one I’d rather go with than you, love.”

“You don’t have to. Seriously. You know our deal.”

His beard scratches over her forehead, and he pulls away. “I know. I’d still be honored to go with you.” He sits down across from her as he opens up his salad. She gets distracted watching him. The lighting in here is all fluorescents, and it shouldn’t be flattering, but Killian’s tan still shows up, his eyes are still ridiculously blue, and there’s still something so charming about his smile. She watches it as it falls into a flat line, almost curving down into a frown, but then she sees the curve tick upward. “I’m glad you’re happy, Emma. I’ve always wanted that for you.”

She nods, unsure of what to say. “You too, KJ. You know what would make me extra happy?”

“What?” “If you could steal me some of Elsa’s birthday cake ice cream later.”

“Your heart’s desire, love. That’s all I want you to have.”

-/-

-/-

tag list: @qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @galadriel26​ @galaxyzxstark​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @mariakov81​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @elizabeethan​ @captain-emmajones​ @csalltheway​ @itsfabianadocarmo​