#if someone could point me toward the funeral post I can’t find it and wanna give credit for this shit addition

[frownyalfred]

I can’t find that Batman funeral post but consider:

Superman’s death shuts down Metropolis/the world for several days in mourning. People use it as a moment to reflect on their own potential to do good/yada yada yada…

Meanwhile, in Gotham, they hear about Batman’s death and some random guy chucks like, a half-full Bud Light into the polluted, glowing river with a muttered, but still somehow genuinely distraught, “fucking furry” under his breath.

[book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure]

A Stark and her Soldier ~ Part 1

Imagine: Reuniting with Bucky when you end up helping Sam with the Flag Smashers.

Warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS! This takes place during the first two episodes of the show.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m saying this but I’M BACK (with a new header lol)!!! AHHHHHHHH! It’s been nearly two years but here I am… posting this makes me SO nervous, so feedback would be highly appreciated! More parts and some information about what I’m planning with this blog to follow soon! 

“You held us together – do it for them,” he paused before adding, “Promise me you’ll do it for them.”

You blinked away the tears, knowing what was coming, “I can’t promise that...”

“Y/N please,” the way he begged you with that shaking voice was nearly enough to push you over the edge.

“I-I promise.” He squeezed your hand before letting you leave.

“You’ve reached James Barnes, sorry I couldn’t take your call, please –” you hung up before the recorded message could continue, face burning with frustration. This was the 9th time you had tried calling him this week, not to mention the countless text messages.

You scoffed thinking of Steve’s last words to you, how were you supposed to hold them together when you barely held yourself together on a good day? It doesn’t make it any easier when the person you’re supposed to be holding together is so keen on letting himself fall apart.  

Every time you tried calling him, you ended up feeling furious, miserable, or like an absolute failure – usually all three. You promised Steve, you promised, and you failed. You groaned and chucked your phone across your bed.

The last time you had seen him, Steve had still been around, and you hadn’t even spoken to him since Tony’s funeral.

 You and Pepper had walked to the lake, each holding one of Morgan’s hands, and you had sat at the dock watching the arc reactor – his heart – float away, the people behind you forgotten in your grief. The weight on your heart was unbelievable, you had already lost your best friend, Natasha, and now your brother was gone.

You promised him that you wouldn’t cry at his funeral – he always knew it was inevitable – and so you sat there, sending him away with a pained smile.

You had no idea how long you had just sat there, staring at the horizon across the lake, trying to make this last moment with your brother last forever.

“Y/N?” You felt a hand squeezing your shoulder, “You should come back inside.”

“What happens now, Steve?” Your voice was softer than he had ever heard before.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out together,” he paused for a moment before gesturing to Bucky, waiting outside the house behind him, “He wants to talk to you.”

You gave Bucky a small smile, “Hey.”

He walked over and dropped down next to you, Steve leaving the two of you to chat, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” You nodded solemnly.

He added, “For everything, Y/N… he probably wouldn’t even have wanted me here, but –”

You shook your head and took his hand, heart fluttering at the contact. You had always been attracted to him, and it had only grown with every interaction. “That wasn’t you.”

You knew your brother never blamed Bucky, you all knew how it felt to have people mess with your heads and Bucky had had the worst of it. He was furious at Steve for years, but never at Bucky – you could never bring yourself to be angry with either of them, not after the stories you grew up with. Your father had adored the soldiers and you had been one of their biggest fans, and later one of Steve’s closest friends.

There had come a point after the battle between Tony and Steve when you had become sick of all the back and forth. You were lucky enough to find an escape when T’Challa got in touch with you, offering you a chance to come to Wakanda and learn about their technology – you weren’t ashamed to admit that you were the one who contacted him to beg for it. You hadn’t known that Bucky was already there. Slowly but surely, the two of you found comfort in one another and became good friends.  

He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “You should head inside, it’s getting late – I’ll see you again soon.”

He stayed true to that statement, the two of you stood with Sam and Bruce, waiting for Steve to come back after returning the stones – only to have him shatter your hearts.

You only saw Bucky in passing after that, occasionally visiting Steve at the same time – you never said a word to him, beyond a smile or a wave, and then you stopped seeing him all together. You tried, for the sake of your promise to Steve, but he never answered your calls or texts.

“We’ll figure it out together, right, thanks a lot Steve,” You muttered.

You jumped at the sound of your phone ringing, and your shoulders sank a bit when you saw Sam’s name flashing across the screen, “Hey.”

“He’s doing an interview,” You knew exactly who Sam was talking about, “Good Morning America.”

Your stomach turned, “That’s the last thing I want to see.”

“I know, I just thought I’d share my joy with someone,” Sam chuckled, “Any luck with Bucky?”

“I’m just wasting my time at this point,” You could feel the tears returning to your eyes as you said it.

“Hey, come on now, he’ll come around, he just needs some time.”

“Right…”

“Listen, I called because we have a lead, wanna join?”

“Please.”

“I hate it, his stupid face plastered on every wall, it feels like he’s mocking us.”

“Don’t you start, Y/N.”

“Seriously Sam, I get that he’s the new Cap – the fake Cap, but don’t you think that this,” You gestured to the posters around you, “is excessive?”

“It-”

“Shouldn’t have given up the shield.” Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice and your face heated up with anger, you hadn’t realized it was possible to feel such contrasting emotions at the same time, but here you were. You noted that his voice was a bit hoarse and wondered if he had been sick.

“Good to see you too, Buck.”

“This is wrong.”

“So is pushing away everyone who cares about you.” He finally looked at you and you saw shame glistening in those steel blue eyes.

He said nothing before turning back to Sam, “You didn’t know that was gonna happen?”

Wow, ignoring your calls was one thing, but outright ignoring you while you stood in front of him, that caused a different kind of hurt.

You stood in silence as Sam explained where the two of you were headed, trying to push away the pounding in your head, and suddenly, you found yourself in a jet sitting next to Bucky.

“You could have answered, even once. Could’ve at least let me know that you were still alive.”

“I know,” Was all he said.

“We were friends once,” Nothing, “and I still care for you.”

“I know.”

“Four months, a full four months and I didn’t hear a single word from you, I’m going to need more than ‘I know’.”

He sighed, “I’m sorry.”

You could tell that he meant it and didn’t know what more to say, so you got up and headed towards the open door of the plane, “I’ll catch you boys on the ground.”

You watched Sam follow, and considered helping Bucky as he fell through the trees, but you decided against it. He hurt your feelings and now you could call it even.

Super soldiers? How on earth were there more super soldiers?! You didn’t have much time to ponder on the thought as you got kicked in the face by one of them and fell off the semi – definitely should have let Tony make you a helmet like he insisted.

You flew back up only to see him dropping out of a helicopter, Fake Cap, fuck.

“Looks like you guys could use some help,” Your blood boiled at the sight of his cocky grin.

You weren’t winning, and you weren’t stupid enough to continue trying, let Steve’s knock-off take care of it.

You flew off just in time to see Bucky lying on top of Sam, the latter groaned in displeasure.

“Hey, can you gentlemen save the PDA for later?” You joked, earning a glare from both of them.

With the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, the pain from the blows you took started to set in, making you dread the trek in front of you. As if on cue, you heard a horn honking and Fake Cap pulled up next to you, “It’s 20 miles to the airport, you guys need a ride.”

“I think we’re good,” You simply stated.

“You won’t make it with that limp.”

You gave him a crude smile, “I’d rather crawl.”  

They stopped and opened the door, you exchanged a look with Sam and Bucky, silently deciding to join them.

You sat between Bucky and Sam, and felt the anger and disgust radiating off of both of them with every word that was exchanged.

“Y/N Stark,” You despised the way he said your last name, like he wanted to devour you, “You are one of the original seven, I trust you know the importance of having a strong team. I’d suggest giving a word or two of advice to your friends here.”

“Did you really just compare being on a team with you two, to being on a team with the Avengers?” You glowered at him, “A word of advice Walker, you’re not Steve, you might be holding that shield, but you will never be half the Captain America that he was. So quit fucking pretending.”  

“I didn’t realize Stark’s sister had such a mouth on her,” He smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing and as much as you hated to admit it, it was working, “Vicious.”

“Go to hell.”

The ride didn’t last very long after that, and you had no complaints when Bucky demanded them to stop the car.

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see Sam still asleep on the seats across from you, and Bucky was sitting on the large crate in the middle of the jet, “Not tired?”

“Nah,” He shook his head.

You pushed yourself to your feet and hopped up next to him, “You’d think they’d make those seats a bit more comfortable considering the amount of time we spend on these things.”

He chuckled and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence. After a considerable pause he turned to you, “Y/N, I meant what I said earlier, I’m sorry.”

The dark bags under his eyes were a stark contrast from the beautiful blue that you were looking into, which you noted which had lost its luster. You noticed that his voice still had a bit of that hoarseness from earlier in the day, and the dots connected. You remembered how hoarse your voice used to get when you’d wake up screaming from the nightmares after particularly rough missions. You understood why he was awake, he didn’t want you and Sam to see him like that.

You nodded, “I know, I just wish – I was worried sick about you. I know it hasn’t been easy for you Buck, but we were good friends once and I miss you.”

“I wanted to call, it’s just been tough,” He admitted, and you reached over to take his hand, only to quickly pull away as Sam woke up.

“You two okay?”

“Yeah,” You both said. You wondered if Bucky’s super soldier ability allowed him to hear the way your heartbeat picked up from that brief touch.

Your mind was racing a million miles a minute, you had barely kept the tears in listening to Isaiah’s story, both out of anger and sadness. How? How did this happen? How was this man tortured, then brushed under the rug? How did no one know about it? Why the hell did Bucky keep this from you?

Sam mirrored your pained expression, but something darker lurked beneath his eyes, you couldn’t even imagine the rage he felt. The sound of a police siren pulled you out of your thoughts.

Your anger only grew at the argument that ensued, “I am calm, what do you want? We’re just standing here talking.”

“Just give him your ID,” You glared at Bucky as the words left his mouth.

“Why the hell should he? He didn’t do anything wrong!” You growled, at the same time Sam said, “I’m not giving him shit, we were just talking.”

“Hey, hey, look, is this guy bothering you?” The officer asked you and Bucky. Your eyes widened, he can’t be serious right now.

“No, he’s not bothering us, do you know who this is?!”

You couldn’t even stand to look at the guy as his jaw dropped in shock upon realizing who Sam was, you felt your body shake with anger, and you didn’t even want to think what would have happened if Sam hadn’t been an Avenger.

The officer returned from his vehicle and turned the tables, announcing that there was a warrant out for Bucky’s arrest.

Watching him being handcuffed and put into the car shattered your heart, if the events of the day hadn’t already left you feeling nauseous, you knew this would be the nail in the coffin. All you could see was Bucky on his knees with a gun to his head nearly seven year ago when Steve barely prevented T’Challa from killing him and the four of you had been arrested – Tony had been furious with you, but it was the shame in Bucky’s eyes that had hurt you the most, and here you were, witnessing it again.

You reached over a grabbed Sam’s hand and squeezed as hard as you could, desperate for a lifeline to keep you from sinking into those painful memories.

You maintained that same grip on the poor man’s hand as you sat at the police station waiting for Bucky to be bailed out, “Sam, Y/N, I’ve heard a lot about you two, I’m Dr. Raynor, I’m James’ therapist.”

The two of you shook her hand and Sam thanked her for getting Bucky out.

“That was not me –”

“Christina!” You’d recognize that voice anywhere from the way it made your skin crawl, fuck, “Good to see you again.”

You clenched your jaw to keep yourself from punching the stupid grin off of his face as he pointed to himself when Dr. Raynor asked him who authorized Bucky’s release. You knew you had a problem with constantly wanting to punch people in the face, it was a trait that ran in the family, but Walker’s face was definitely one of the most punchable ones you had seen – a good ol’ pop in the jaw wouldn’t hurt, right? Just one?

“He’s too valuable of an asset to have him tied up –”

That was it, that was all you were willing to hear, you couldn’t stop yourself from getting in his face and hissing, “Call him that again, and I swear to god Walker, I –”

Sam put his arm around you, hand pressed to your stomach and pulled you back, “Y/N.”

Walker simply smirked and turned back to Raynor, “Do what you have to do and send him off to me. Got some unfinished business, him and I, you too Wilson, and bring your guard dog with you.”

It took everything in your power to keep from snarling at him.  

“James, condition of your release, session now,” The doctor ordered, “You two as well.”

“I’m good, I’ve been to enough therapy,” You shook your head, at the same time Sam said, “That’s okay, I’ll be out here with –”

“That wasn’t a request,” You couldn’t help but chuckle, and decided that you liked this woman.

You and Sam sat on either side of Bucky, facing Dr. Raynor as she got started. You couldn’t help but notice the way Bucky’s eyes shifted and jaw clenched as Sam tried to weasel his way out of the session, and your chest tightened. He looked so tired, and not just the ‘hasn’t slept in a few days’ tired, but more like he was tired of trying – he looked broken.

You decided in that moment that you would try, and not just for Steve, but for the man next to you who had held a piece of your heart before he even knew you, and managed steal that piece away when you had met him years later.

You realized how hard you’d have try when Bucky answered Dr. Raynor’s question with, “In my miracle, he would talk less.”

“Exactly what I was gonna say, isn’t that ironic?” You sighed, so hard.

She turned to you, mimicking the expression on your face, “Y/N, can I trust you to give me a proper answer?”

Try, Y/N, try. You saw a glimmer of hope in Raynor’s eyes as they met yours, but you simply shrugged and looked away, unable to bring yourself to open up, and she let her shoulders fall slightly.

“You guys are leaving me with no choice. It’s time for the soul-gazing exercise. Y/N, you can sit this one out, you get along with both of them well enough.”

You rolled your eyes at the reactions from the boys, this’ll be good. You couldn’t help but chuckle as they got closer to one another, maybe I should have taken part in this exercise. They made eye contact and continued to hold it, you realized what they were doing moments before the doctor did and let out a genuine laugh – earning a glare from Raynor, don’t encourage them she seemed to say.

“James, why does Sam aggravate you? And don’t say something childish.” Your head filled with a hundred different ideas about what stupid things Bucky would come up with, only to have them fizzle away at his cheeky grin towards the doctor, followed by the lick of his lip. It left your throat dry. Snap out of it, Y/N, what’s gotten into you?

He paused for a moment, his expression changing, and turned back to Sam, “Why’d you give of that shield?”

You held your breath, you knew this was going to come up, but weren’t expecting it here. You couldn’t take your eyes off of Bucky, noticing every change in his face, it becoming more pained with every word that left his mouth, and your chest tightening alongside it, until finally, “So maybe he was wrong about you. And if he was wrong about you, then he was wrong about me.”

The break in his voice cracked your heart into a million pieces. You looked up, trying to keep the tears swimming in your eyes from falling. You turned your attention towards Sam and noticed the emotion behind his glassy eyes – it was different than anything you had seen in him before, it was almost as though you could see the burden he was carrying on his shoulders, the pressure that was pushing him in every direction.

I have to fix this, you told yourself, you couldn’t stand to see them like this, I have to try.  

Your mind was roaring with thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed that Sam and Bucky had left until Raynor asked, “What would be in your miracle, Y/N?”

You snapped your head towards her, then to the door, you weighed your options and headed towards the latter. You grabbed the handle and stopped, without turning towards her you whispered, “I’d find a home again, and they’d find some happiness.”

You pulled the door open, “Y/N, I don’t think those two things have to be separate.”

Her words swam in your head until you found Bucky and Sam walking outside, Walker and Hoskins storming off in the other direction.

“What’s that all about?”

“Walker being Walker,” Sam shrugged.

“So, what now?”

“Bucky wants to talk to Zemo,” Every memory that you spent years trying to forget came flooding back: Zemo using those words to turn Bucky into the Winter Soldier, who then proceeded to trash the compound and nearly kill you and your friends; watching your family fight each other at the airport and being forced to pick a side; watching the footage of your parents dying; desperately begging your brother and the man who had become your brother not to kill one another.

“You what?!” You gasped.

“Y/N –”

You stepped between the two of them, close enough to Bucky that you had to tilt your head up to look into his eyes, and whispered, “Bucky, no.”

“This might be our only lead, Y/N,” You stared up at him, silently pleading him, he reflected the same in his own, “Please Y/N.”

He took your hand and you instantly melted, “I – fine, but promise me you will be careful.”

“I promise.”

End. 

Read Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 and Part 6

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[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] Mafia!San - Will You Join Me?

word count: 2.9k warnings: explicit language, gun use, violence, description of death (not explicit), sexually suggestive, gets a lil steamy summary: cupid has a bullet with your name on it a/n: Y/N a little dramatic and San annoying af. I wrote this in a two hour flash at 2am, so this might be deleted after I reread it tomorrow because I’m pretty sure a lot of this is just me chatting shit.

1. Yoon, David – 12:45 Note to self: likes donuts. probs dunkin’, maybe krispy? idk just look for a man w a paper bag.

“I’ll have to warn you though, the lift is under maintenance, so you’ll have to take the stairs.” The receptionist smiled at you sympathetically. “I can get someone to help you with your suitcase if you’d like?”

“Oh no, it’s ok, I’ll just find another place to stay. I have weak knees anyway.” You forced a laugh and hoped the lady didn’t notice the dead look in your eyes.

“I’m sorry about that, love.”

Turning away with your suitcase in tow, you headed towards the building opposite the hotel and hoped that the rooftop would be easy enough to access.

It was quite irresponsible of you not to have a backup plan. It seemed that being named the sharpest shooter in the underground world had gotten to your head a little, but you argued that a bit of spontaneity never hurt anybody. Though your target would beg to differ.

Being a public building of offices, it was all too easy for you to reach the roof of the building. You found that walking with your held head high and gaze set straight ahead would never get you questioned. Who would ever stop someone with a walk so confident?

Thankfully, the rooftop hadn’t been turned into some garden space: an air-conditioning fan over here, a water tank over there. You checked your wristwatch reading 12:40 and muttered under your breath. The damn hotel lift had taken precious minutes of your time and compromised your view.

You opened your suitcase to set up your sniper, giving your little black cat charm on the side of your gun a squish. Cute.

Sitting on the case with your stock snug against your shoulder, you peered into the scope to get a closer view of the revolving doors to the bank. Oh great, there’s a lamppost in the way.

Mr. Yoon was apparently quite the punctual man, always seen stepping into the bank doors after his lunch break at exactly quarter to one and therefore, your window of opportunity was thin.

“I want it done today or you’re getting sniped yourself, Y/N.” You heard the voice of your boss yap in your head again. Blah blah blah, same old threat. You argued that procrastinating the man’s death was actually something very considerate of you to do.

You heard a familiar clatter of metal hit the floor and you turned your scope to the rooftop opposite to see a man in overalls with his toolbox open on the floor.

“Lift maintenance guy?” You muttered to yourself and wondered if the mechanics of elevators ran all the way through to the rooftop. You made sure that you wouldn’t be in his line of vision and swivelled back to your original position, cursing the man under your breath for ruining your first choice of setup.

12:44

“Come on, Yoon. Lunch time’s almost over.” Your finger lay restless on the trigger, itching to get a glimpse of the bank teller.

20 seconds.

“Krispy or Dunkin’ what will it be today, entertain me.”

10 seconds.

You saw the man turn the corner and waited for him to get a little closer for you to shoot.

5 seconds.

“That’s it, just past the lamppost and you won’t even know what hit y- what the FU-?” You shouted and quickly clasped a hand to your mouth. Mr. Yoon hadn’t even made it past the post, and he was already laying on the pavement in a growing pool of blood.

Calculating the angle in which he was laying, you spun your vision around to the hotel rooftop and saw the maintenance man begin to pack up a sniper back into his toolbox. Taking off his cap, you noticed a flash of white in his jet-black hair and just like he knew you were watching, he turned with a smug grin on his face and shot you some finger guns.

“Oh, you little fucker.” You spat, and watched the man jump down into a hatch to disappear.

You slumped dramatically onto the floor and splayed your limbs to stare blankly at the sky. Never in your life had you ever missed a shot, let alone have it stolen by someone else, and your boss had your phone ringing to rub it in your face.

“That wasn’t you, was it?”

“Listen, what if? You know, what if that was my thirteenth reason? I just couldn’t take it anymore and that was it. No more Y/N. You wouldn’t even come to my funeral, would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t because you’d be too broke to have one. You realise you’re not getting paid for this?”

“Why? He’s still dead?” You sat up in disbelief.

“Well, it turns out someone else wanted him gone too. I can’t lie to our client and say that we did it.”

“You’re oddly moral for someone that runs a hotline for hitmen.”

“I’ll call you if I find you another job.”

“Justice for freelance contract killers.” You muttered weakly as he ended the call. The faint sound of police sirens filled the air as you let out a heavy sigh and lay back on the concrete.

You pictured the man and wondered who it was that would even think to render the notorious Y/N L/N jobless. Though you did have to admit that it was a clean shot.

“Skunk-hair looking ass.”

2. Kim, Seungho – 18:00 Note to self: babysitting. easy target but kid knows NOTHING.

You were stationed by a corner window in an unfinished apartment building with a trainee by your side, setting up his kit.

Stood by the trainee, you scanned to see if everything was in the right place, checking the kid’s posture too. You had been sent by your boss to reluctantly train a young recruit and you joked if you had been demoted following your last predicament. You were never in it for the money though, you lived for the adrenaline.

The boy had potential and you saw it, he just needed to make cleaner shots because three bullets somewhat near the target’s vital organs wasn’t going to cut it.

“What’s your name again?”

“Jisung. Han Jisung.” The recruit replied, his eyes never leaving yours, in absolute awe.

“Eyes on the scope.”

“I’m sorry, nobody told me I’d be getting trained by you. The Seoul Shooter? Like wow.”

“Ew, is that what they’re calling me?”

“Yeah, well I think it’s a pretty cool name, they used to call me ‘Jitman’ in my hometown, not very creati-”

You shushed the boy and tapped his shoulder as you pointed to a small figure in the distance.

“You see him through the scope? Now keep your hand steady, never feel as if you’re being rushed. Death works to your schedule.”

“Got it.” Jisung said, following the man with his gun.

“Ok, on 3… 2… 1…”

You heard the bullet cut through the evening air and hit the target neatly through his office window.

“Bro? That was so clean? That has to be one of the sexiest shots I’ve seen in a while-” You began.

“Uhh, that wasn’t me, Y/N.”

Before you could even process what had happened, you heard the rustle of footsteps patter down the stairs behind you. Taking out your handgun, you moved towards the open door to find the same man you had seen on the hotel rooftop stop in his tracks on the landing. Clad in a fitted black sweater and jeans this time, he looked a whole lot more attractive close up.

“You again?” You exclaimed; gun still pointed at the man as he dropped his duffel bag to raise his hands.

His eyes widened, not in shock, but more with an excited glint in his eyes.

“Oh my, it’s Y/N, the Seoul Shooter.” A coy smile painted his lips as he shook his white fringe out of his eyes.

“See, everyone calls you that.” Jisung interjected from behind.

“Shut up, Han.”

“Word around town is that you’ve been unemployed for some time now,” nodding towards Han, he added, “and it looks like the rumours are true.”

“I’ve actually decided to take a break you know? Let the other kids have a chance at making a name for themselves. Bit of charity work.”

“Y/N kinda got demoted because you keep taking their shots.” Han interrupted again.

“Hey, who told you that?!” You narrowed your eyes at the boy. Han Jisung was a smart ass and you vowed then and there that you wouldn’t take on any more training sessions.

You whipped your head back around to the man eyeing your body up and down.

“My eyes are up here, sir. Unless you really wanna get shot.” You spat.

“Well, I’d die a happy man if you were the last thing I’d see.” He smirked in retaliation and studied your eyes carefully. “Well, my job here is done, I better be on my way. Got a big cheque waiting for me.” He grinned as he reached to grab his bag and carry his way on down the stairs with footsteps too light-hearted for your liking.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Jisung asked as you watched the man disappear into the evening.

“I don’t think killing a man for taking my shots is justified.”

“What, and sniping Mr. Kim Seungho just before he gets to feel the bliss of clocking out is?” He laughed. “Do you know what I think, Y/N?”

“What?”

“I don’t know, I’m not going to say anything.”

Han Jisung tormented you the whole drive back to the quarters.

“Y/N and Skunk Man sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G. First comes lo-”

Smack.

“Ouch, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I was just kidding.” He laughed as an idea struck him, “K-I-D-D-I-N-”

Smack.

3. Park, Kiha - 10:32 Note to self: bad man. bad, bad man. but big, big cheque.

Having had your last two shots stolen, mystery Skunk Man was beginning to get on your nerves. You were seething to the point that you demanded your boss give you another job, itching to defend your title of being the finest shooter in Seoul.

Laying on the floor of a rooftop hangar, the man had the gall to pop up out of the hatch to set up his station right next to you, as if you were both on some picnic.

"Nice seeing you here today, Y/N." He said, sitting cross legged to mount a scope to the top of his sniper.

Not even bothering to take your eyes off the target, you muttered, "I got here first, you better back off." voice laced with venom.

"Well I've been promised a cheque too, we're all just trying to get fed around here."

Ignoring him, you glanced down at your watch that read 10:31. Any time now, Park Kiha would be walking through the glass bridge to get to his meeting in the twin building.

Steadying your finger against the trigger, you held your breath and counted down from three, two, o-

"I like your cat charm by the way."

You pulled the trigger only for it to stray a little to the right, still hitting your target, just a little less central than you would have accepted.

You shot up from your position to face the man laying on his side, head propped up against his hand to look at you.

"Do you have something against me? Do I even know you?" You exclaimed, carding your gloved hand through your hair.

"No uhh, but I saw your face on a bounty poster once and thought you were cute." He said, attitude too blasé. "That was a nice shot though, I was going to wait a few more seconds."

"So you saw my picture, and started following me around to antagonise me?"

"Nah, I just happened to be super lucky to have been put on the same cases as you. Big bad men have a lot of people after them I guess?"

Throwing your equipment back into your bag, you watched the man proceed to roll over onto his back with his arms behind his head to look up at the sky.

The mid-morning sun cast a golden glow over his skin and though you spent most of your life working with guns, his uniform and kit next to him looked a little different, almost attractive. They suited him a little too much and you thought that if a sleek sniper were to be personified, it would look exactly like this leather clad man.

"I should ask for your number, the way you're looking at me right now, Y/N."

"Good luck, you won't get it." You turned to step down the hatch as he propped himself up again to watch you leave.

Choi, San – 15:25 Note to self: he’s kinda hot tho :/

So, we had finally put a name to the face. As your boss handed you a folder, you were slightly taken aback at the small ID picture pinned to the top of the file.

“You might be a little happy about this one.” He said, taking a sip of coffee. “He’s been recently recruited by ATEEZ as their sniper. Quite a deadly one too. He was scouted shooting pheasants down in the Namhae countryside apparently.”

“Hmm, how much?” You questioned.

“A million dollars.”

“Excuse me? A mill-?” You choked on the air and composed yourself just as quick to nonchalantly lean against the filing cabinet and look out the window, “I don’t know, he didn’t look a million dollars-worth to me.”

“He hasn’t been in the game long, but man has he taken down some big names.”

Though you didn’t necessarily feel too attached to Choi San, you did think that you were going to miss him a little. It was nice having a friend on your level to spar with.

Who were you kidding? You thought he was hot and that it would be a shame to have to shoot him.

But on second thought, you had been itching for the adrenaline in the trigger again, and the million dollars looked a lot sexier to you than some man.

“I’ll take it.”

-

San was all too easy to find. He seemed to enjoy hiding in plain sight since no common person would recognize him in the bustling streets of Gangnam. Nestled in the corner of another rooftop, you zoned in on the recognizable black and white hair sat outside on the terrace of a café.

Once you were ready, you repositioned your finger on the trigger and focused the cross hairs on the familiar head. You were steady until San lifted his head and stared right back at you through the scope, sending you a wink.

“Shit.” You muttered, his actions throwing you off and when you repositioned your aim, he had slipped into the crowd, now lost.

“No, no, no, no, no, Choi San, ugh.” Seeing that he knew what you were up to, you got up to pace around the rooftop. Your mind worked nonstop to find an alternate solution but all you could conclude was to go home, stay low and pick another day to continue.

This man had thrown you into the worst slump of your life, but you were somewhat enjoying the chase and you hated to admit it.

The abrupt sound of a closing of a door behind you had everything clicking into place.

“You pretty motherfucker, had this planned, didn’t you?” You laughed.

Upon hearing the cocking of a gun, you turned to pull out the throwing knife strapped to your thigh and pulled his body in by his collar to reach his throat. And it just turned out that San had the same idea in pushing his handgun up underneath your chin at the same time, faces a little too close.

“I like your beret.” San said candidly, jerking his brow up at the hat on your head.

“Me, too. It’s Marine Serre.”

“Nice choice.”

“I’m going to count down from three and we’re going to drop our weapons, ok? And talk this out like adults because I for one, didn’t wanna kill you.” You bargained.

“Sure.”

“Three, two, one!” The both of you pulled away for a split second in bluff only to reposition your weapons against each other’s throats again.

“I knew it.” San smirked.

“No, for real this time. I mean it.”

“Go ahead, baby.” He smiled as his gaze dropped to your lips.

“Three, two, o-”

San cut you off by leaning into your lips, placing onto them a kiss so intense, almost mirroring the violent nature of the situation. However, what surprised you more was that you let yourself melt back into him. He let his gun clatter to the floor to walk you backwards into the wall behind, hoisting your leg up around his waist.

You broke away from the kiss for air when he smiled, “I mean, it is kinda hot, but I would appreciate it if you could stop holding that knife against my throat right now, Y/N.”

“Ugh, fine.” You muttered as San leaned back in to kiss you whilst roaming his hand around your thigh, ridding you of the rest of your knives and smirking against your lips in satisfaction.

Feeling his bulge grind between your legs, you both only grew more fervent for each other as you kissed.

“Wait, I wanna take you on a date first.” He pulled away to look you in the eye.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Mhmm, to Bar 1117.” He hummed, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

“Isn’t that your company’s place…?”

“Yeah, they’re gonna love you.” He whispered, peppering small kisses down your throat.

“Are you trying to recruit me or fuck me, San?”

"I mean, you can kill me now and leave for that million dollars or you can come with me for a new job and that million dollar dick."

"You're unbelievable."

“I heard you were doing freelance anyway, baby.” He looked into your eyes again, a mischievous glow blooming across his face, “So, will you join me?”

-

disclaimer: San’s pie chart hair is one of my all time faves but I also can’t stop thinking that it looks a little skunk-like. In the cutest way. a/n: I've edited this a lot since I posted it and I think I'm gonna keep it

-

Mafia AU Masterlist

[hanniiesuckle17]

Love > Shame

A/n: im hoping i got the request right! Hope you all enjoy! (this is not thoroughly edited srryyyyy) also like frick ^^this video his vlog is the most boyfriend thing ever

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: cussing, partial nudity

Requested by: @ann0325441904​

Tag List: @distrikt9​ @mini-meanhoe​ @poeticallyspaghetti​ @hanstagrams​ @desertofdessert​ @yangomangos​ @hoes4hoseok​

Summary: Sometimes timing isn’t the best. With tensions high at work for Jisung and your time of the month really kicking you in the ass, a fight breaks out between you and your boyfriend leaving you completely alone in a country far away from your old family and friends. Misunderstood problems turn to jealous and catty fights. Is there any way the two of you can come back together?

Genre: romance, angst, fluff

◈

Pain shot through my abdomen. It was like someone was sticking eight thousand needles into my stomach repeatedly for the sole purpose of fucking with me. Fuck womanhood. The pain meds I took earlier were doing nothing to help. This was putting me in a terrible mood. 

The sound of shower running floated from behind the closed door of the adjoining bathroom. My longtime boyfriend, Jisung, lay just beyond it. It was easily one o’clock in the morning, but I always waited up for Jisung to return home from practice. He had also come home in a rather sour mood. 

Deciding that the leggings I was wearing were far too constricting to sleep in with cramps, I got up and waddled my way over to our big closet. Jisung and I both had enough clothes each to fill an entire apartment so when we were apartment hunting, a big closet was a must. 

I threw the pants in the hamper and grabbed one of Jisung’s t-shirts from his side of the closet. The soft black fabric fell around my thighs. Why Jisung bought shirts four times than his actual size was still a mystery to me. The pressure on my stomach lessened but still remained. 

The door opened to reveal a shirtless Jisung emerging from the bathroom. A pair of gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, the fabric making a swishing sound as he walked. It was clear he was still upset. Jisung roughly towel dried his hair, rubbing the cloth over his dark locks. “You still upset, babe?” I asked looking over at him. It took all my willpower not to snap out the words. He shook his head and looked over at me with a pointed glance. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Again, Jisung shook his head. “Ji, it’s not healthy to keep this bottled up. I think you might feel better if you would talk about it.” An aggravated sigh left his lips and he laid back on the bed. 

“Y/n. I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

It was hard to watch Jisung so upset. I walked over and laid next to him, trying to ignore the agonizing pain. My fingers traced random patterns against his stomach. The action usually calmed him down. However, he simply turned his head away from me tossing the towel somewhere else in the room. “Jisung, its not good to go to bed angry-”

“Babe, just leave me alone and stop being such a clingy bitch.”

I froze, hand hovering over his stomach. Silence hung heavy in the air. It seemed Jisung had no intention of taking back what he said. He didn’t even seem like he regretted it. “Excuse me?” I said sitting up in disbelief. 

I felt like screaming. Crying. Throwing everything in this room at Jisung’s little pimple head until it popped. “What?” He said rolling his eyes. Wet black hair hung in front of his vision. 

“Did you just....”

“Just get over it. I want to go to bed.”

“Get...over it?” I scoffed getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. You’re overreacting. Just get over it.” I shook my head in disbelief. This was not the Jisung that I knew. This was not the Jisung I was in love with. The boy who ran in the rain with me just to capture the perfect kiss on our first date. The boy who sent me love notes every day for two months until I agreed to go out with him. The one who stayed with me when my aunt died and I was too heartbroken to leave the bedroom since I couldn’t fly home for the funeral. The one who never went to sleep until he told me how much he loved me whether I was awake to hear it or not. 

“Look I get you’ve had a shitty day. But I’m not just someone you can push around Jisung. You know that.”

He sat up, clearly annoyed. “I’m not pushing you around!”

“You called me a bitch!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like one!”

“Well, you’re kind of acting like an asshole.” Jisung rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the bed. Anger started to bubble up in my chest. “What the fuck, Ji?” 

“Look- I don’t owe you anything okay! All I wanted to do was come home and get to sleep. I don’t want to deal with all your nagging.” 

“Jisung I care about you. I love you! I’m just trying to help.”

Nothing seemed to make it better. Eventually, I stopped trying to be the good guy. I stopped trying to keep my voice quiet. If he was going to yell at me, then I would yell back. He couldn’t just walk all over me. My emotions broke loose along with the rest of hell. 

“I WORK ALL DAY! ALL YOU DO IS SIT ON YOUR ASS AT HOME ON YOUR COMPUTER. I’M TRYING TO PROVIDE FOR THE TWO OF US Y/N!” 

“SIT ON MY ASS? I’M TRYING TO GRADUATE JISUNG!”

“Listen I can’t deal with you anymore.” He said turning his back on me and looking out the window. The muscles in his back were tight and tense. “Just fuck off, Y/n.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. The pain in my stomach was just making me even angrier. “That’s it. Get out.” Jisung turned around in shock. He started stuttering and trying to form a coherent sentence. “You heard what I said. Out.” My finger pointed to the door furthering my stance on the situation.

“Y/n-”

“Get out, Jisung! Go sleep at the dorms.”

He started gathering his things, tugging on a random hoodie and slipping on some socks from the dresser. “This is is exactly what I was talking about.” He mumbled. Jisung stood up, clearly pissed off. He started towards the bedroom door but stopped and turned back until he was standing right in front of me. His wet hair was covered by a beanie, pushing it all in front of his eyes. “You know what, Y/n? Call me when you decide to stop being such a heartless bitch.” 

My hand flew across his cheek before I could even think. What surprised me...what hurt me....was that I didn’t regret it. Jisung stood in front of me, shocked, his eyes looked hurt. His doe eyes which I loved so much always told me what he was thinking. But, as they stared back at me, I didn’t recognize them. 

“I hate you...”

He sighed seeing a tear leak onto my cheek. His long fingers wrapped around my wrist, but I pulled away before he could get to close. His cheek was starting to turn red from when I hit him. “No...you don’t.” I looked away not wanting him to see me cry. Of course, he knew I was lying. There was nothing he didn’t know about me.

“I should....I should hate you...” He made no effort to reach out to me again. In all honesty, I didn’t know if I wanted him to right now. I wanted to push him away, but I also want him to hold me until everything was okay again. “Just go.”

After a moment, he nodded and I followed him to the front door. He picked up his keys and walked out into the hall, leaving me standing in the doorway. He turned back to me, like he was going to say something else, but stopped when he looked into my eyes. 

“Don’t call me,” I said, the last tear falling down my cheek as I shut the door.

◈

Two weeks had passed. It looked like Jisung and I were on a break. Whether it was temporary or for good I didn’t know. My hand brushed over Jisung’s side of the bed. The sheets were cold. They were never cold. Sunlight streamed in through the large glass window in our bedroom. Well...it wasn’t really ‘ours’ anymore. I sat up waiting for arms to pull me back down under the covers. Arms that never reached out. 

Mornings like these were usually spent in Jisung’s arms staring out at the skyline trying to convince him that he did indeed have to go to work. Lazy kisses, sleepy whispers even though no one else was in the room but us. There were no calls. No texts. Not even a fucking post on Instagram. Nothing. 

All my friends were back home. I was alone in Seoul. No one but Jisung. There was a knock at the front door. Dragging myself out of the queen size bed, my feet trudged over the wood floor in the apartment. I looked through the peephole only to find a huge stuffed bear looking back at me. 

“The fuck...” I mumbled. My fingers switched open the locks and opened the door. The teddy bear moved aside to reveal a face that made me burst into tears. “DANNY!” I screamed wrapping my arms around him.  

Daniel had been my friend practically since birth. We grew up next door to each other. Our parents even bathed us together. Daniel hugged me tight spinning me around in the hallway. It felt so good to see him again.

I would not have made it through high school in my home country if Danny hadn’t been with me. I had missed him so much. As most old friends did, we had dated for about six months in senior year but decided we were better off as we were before. Daniel was a sight for sore eyes.

“How are you here?” I asked cupping his face.

He smiled down at me. Even though he hadn’t had a growth spurt since the ninth grade it seemed he had sprouted another five inches. “I’ve been planning to surprise you! With finals coming up I knew you’d be busy, so I came down so we could party beforehand.” He ruffled my hair and moved past me into the apartment. “So, where is he? I want to meet the man officially!” 

Daniel looked around the quiet apartment before turning back to me expectantly. Jisung. He was looking for Jisung. Just the thought of him made me sad. Danny’s smile fell seeing my expression. “Y/n, what’s wrong?” He brought me further into the apartment and closed the door. “Did I say something?” 

I shook my head and ran a hand through my hair. “Do you want some tea?” Looking for anything to distract me I moved to the kitchen and put a kettle on the stove. Before I could turn the switch, a hand came over mine.

“Y/n, did something happen with you and Jisung?” 

He sighed watching me nod. The silence only lasted a moment before Daniel pulled me into another warm hug. The feeling of his arms around me was comforting, but not fulfilling. There was something missing about the way he hugged me. 

My hair. Every time Jisung hugged me, one of his hands would always hold my head to his chest. His fingers would stroke my hair, lingering at the base of my neck. It was a small thing. A very Jisung thing. But, a small thing I missed none the less. I felt empty without his fingers threading through my hair.

“You know what we should do?” I hummed in response as he pulled away, keeping his hands on my shoulders. “Let’s go drinking!” Daniel was always dragging me on wild adventures. He could never sit still. That’s probably why we never worked out. While I loved a good adventure, sometimes I wanted to just sit with a good book, or just lie in bed listening to the rain. 

“Fine. But, you’re paying.” He cheered and rushed off to go change and I found myself doing the same. Hopefully, I could get Jisung off of my mind.

◈

My eyes looked across the room from over the rim of a martini glass. The heels of my shoes lay firmly hooked over the bottom of the bar stool. “What happened anyway?” Daniel said over the thumping music. He sat next to me at the bar of the nightclub we were in, taking a swig from an overpriced bottle of beer. 

A sigh floated past my lips. My fingers traced the base of the elegant glass. “We got into a stupid fight. I regret almost everything. If I wasn’t on my fucking period I probably wouldn’t have acted so rashly. It wasn’t all my fault though. He’s the one who called me a ‘heartless bitch’.” Daniel spit out the beer he was currently drinking. 

“He what?!” 

“He was just angry.”

“That’s no excuse.” 

I sighed, rubbing my temples. “If it helps I did slap him.” Daniel let loose a little smile and took another sip from his drink. “He had a really bad day. He wouldn’t talk to me. I was just trying to help.” I watched Daniel’s brows furrow. The base of his beer bottle was rolling around the bar top as he thought. 

“Do you remember in sophomore year, I had just gotten into a massive fight with my parent about school and I wouldn’t tell you anything about it.”

“Yeah. It pissed me off. You clearly needed to vent. You ended up punching Marty Finch in anger the next day.” 

Daniel laughed before turning towards me again, eyes serious. “Well, I was too ashamed to talk to you about it. Then, I mean. You were always much better than me in school. I didn’t want you to think less of me because I was having so much trouble with something so simple.” I stared into the clear liquid in my glass. “What I’m saying is...he may have felt like you would have seen him as less of a man if he told you how he was feeling at the time.” 

Daniel reached over and took my hand in his, laying it on the bartop. “He still didn’t have to call me a bitch though,” I said with a sad smile on my lips. 

“Yeah, no. That was a fucking asshole move.” My friend glanced down at my now empty drink. “Another gin martini, dry.” He said to the bartender, who removed my empty glass. Daniel scanned my face. It was hard to hide the depressing way I was feeling. “You really miss him don’t you?”

I nodded, looking away from him and out into the club. “I really do. Danny, I miss him so fucking mu-” I froze. I must be imagining things. My eyes must be lying to me because there was no way I was looking at Jisung sitting on the other side of the club. His arm was draped around a girl with dyed hair. Her hand was squeezing his thigh as he whispered something in his ear. His eyes met mine.

There was a flash of something. Sadness? Guilt? Longing? But, it disappeared before I could question it. Daniel followed my gaze, tapping his finger against the back of my hand. “What’s up? Who is that?” Anger started to boil in the pit of my stomach. Maybe not anger. Anger wasn’t a good word. It hurt more than it made me angry. Jealousy. Jealousy is what was eating away at my insides as his hand played with her hair. 

Danny looked over at the man who used to be mine with a curious gaze. “Jisung,” I whispered, turning back and downing the new martini in one gulp. The alcohol burned the back of my throat distracting me from the stabbing pain in my heart. 

Daniel started to get up, fury in his eyes burning like white hot flames. My hand stopped him from doing something he would later probably not regret at all. “Y/n- are you kidding right now? I’m gonna kill him!”

“Danny, stop. Let’s just go.” 

I took his hand in mine and dragged him away from the bar. The air around me felt heavy. Like I was up on a mountain. Pushing away the pain in my chest I dragged my friend away from the club, not feeling the pair of doe eyes on my back. 

◈

The drone of the television played through the apartment. It was raining outside. It had been raining since the night of the club about four days ago. Daniel sat on my couch, my legs across his lap. A half empty bottle of wine sat on the coffee table and a fully drained one lay next to it. Much alcohol had been consumed in the past few days between the two of us. Daniel; to make me feel better. Me; to forget about the hurt I felt in my chest. 

A light buzz was hovering in my brain as I took another sip from my wine glass. “I know that now is probably not the time,” Daniel said, changing topics. “But, I had a question to ask you about Marin.” 

Marin was Daniel’s girlfriend. She was quite possibly the sweetest person I had ever met. Daniel was lucky to have her. “Oh no. What did you do? You didn’t run here to escape from your fuck up did you? Danny, she’ll kill me! I like being alive!” He laughed patting my leg a few times.

“No. Don’t worry. I wanted your advice.” 

“Hit me with it, baby,” I said drinking the rest of my glass dry. 

Daniel set the glass on the table, turning to me. “Is two and a half years too soon?” I pouted my lips and looked out the window. The view was still immaculate without Jisung next to me. It just felt...lonely even with Danny here. 

“Too soon for what?”

He sighed, that familiar cheeky grin popping onto his cheeks. “I want to ask Marin to marry me.” 

“GET OUT OF TOWN!” I screamed. He laughed when I started squealing. My hands slapped at his shoulder. My little Danny was going to get married. 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I came to Seoul to ask for your advice. And also to ask if you’ll be my ‘best man’ of sorts.” 

“Are you kidding? Of course, I will!” I jumped up from the couch and poured us both more wine. “Have you asked her dad?” He nodded taking a sip of the sweet alcohol. 

“So you think I should do it?”

“Fuck yeah, I think you should do it!” I stared at Daniel with a smile on my face. I could remember when he had gotten his long-legged ass stuck in a baby swing at the park for three hours before we had to find a pair of bolt cutters and run off with the swing. “I cannot believe you are getting married! My little Danny!”  I said leaning over and wrapping my arms around his neck, carefully making sure not to spill my wine. 

The sound of the front door opening had me pulling away from my friend. My eyes widened as Jisung stepped through the door, keys in hand. His stare moved from me to Daniel then zeroed in on my hand still on his neck. 

“Jisung-” I shot up on my feet setting the wine on the table. 

He scoffed closing the door, shoving the keys in his back pocket. “Don’t let me interrupt your date. I just came to get some things.” Jisung’s voice sounded like music to my ears despite its cold tone. He wore a pair of old ripped pair of black jeans I hadn’t seen since we started dating and a baggy white shirt. His usual noir beanie covering his dark hair. 

Daniel awkwardly tapped on his wine glass and watched as Jisung traveled into the bedroom. He looked and me before nudging his head towards the door. I mouthed a few choice words to him which resulted in a silent argument. 

“One of us is going to go in there, and if I do he’s walking out with a black eye and some missing teeth.”

“Oh please. You know he could kick your ass with his hands tied behind his back,” I whispered. 

“Why can’t you date less athletic people? I’d like to be able to defend your honor.” He started pushing me towards the bedroom with his foot. He groaned when I resisted. “Y/n, it’s obvious you're miserable without him and he doesn’t look too happy either.”

Taking a long deep breath, I turned towards the open doorway. My whole body went numb as I took the short steps into the room. Jisung stood at our closet, a bag open on the bed. His head turned hearing the door close behind me. 

“Don’t worry. I’m just getting some clothes. I didn’t think you’d be here.” He tossed a hoodie into the bag, not meeting my eyes. I watched him pack for a moment. He clearly felt uncomfortable under my stare. “I’m going to be out of your hair soon. You don’t have to watch me like a hawk.”

“Don’t leave,” 

His movements stopped, his back away from me towards the closet. An almost perfect replication of the night he left. His fingers twitched as if he was debating putting back the shirt in his hands. 

“I’m a little tipsy, but I’m sober enough to know that if you walk out that door....I’m going to lose you forever.” 

My eyes searched for any sign for me to continue, but his face stayed hidden from me. Jisung dropped his head but stayed silent. I watched his fingers tighten over the fabric in his hand. 

My hand reached out, afraid to touch him, but longing to feel him again. His head turned feeling the brush of my palm on his arm. “Jisung,” He sighed hearing his name. “Please don’t leave.”

Jisung turned around, looking down at me. “I saw you.” He whispered. I saw tears pricking at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you. At the club. You were with the guy in there. I saw you walk in together.” He searched my eyes for something I did not know. 

“So did I; I saw the girl.” He sighed, head falling into his hands. “Did you-...God I can’t even say it.” He winced when I tried to laugh through the awkwardness. “If you did-...we were technically on a break so... I have no right to be mad at you.”

“Even if I did, I would feel terrible if you weren’t.” 

Jisung looked at me with sincerity. “You didn’t sleep with her?” He shook his head, staring down at me. Just one look into his big doe eyes told me he was telling the truth. 

“She kissed me after you left, but I stopped her.” I couldn’t help the smile slipping onto my face. Jisung nodded towards the door before speaking again. “Is that your new boyfriend?” 

“Danny? Hell no. He’s my best friend from back home. He came to visit.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Jisung said in one breath. His hands reached for my cheeks smashing his lips against mine. My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt tugging him closer to me. Jisung kissed me as if he was afraid I would disappear the moment he let go of me. His lips danced against mine, desperate to be with me again. I pulled away resting my forehead against his.

“Well...I mean technically...we dated in senior year, but that was a long time ago.” 

He nodded, fingers threading through my hair as his lips returned to mine. I was just as hungry for him as he was for me. He smiled feeling me push him backward, without breaking our kiss. He laughed quietly when I moved him into the open closet instead of a wall. Jisung straightened himself up before taking control and pinning me up against the doorframe. 

“Wait,” He said breaking the kiss, smiling as I chased after his lips. “Didn’t you say you lost your virginity your senior year.” He asked looking into my eyes, brows furrowed.

“Umm...shhhh. This is about us, yeah?” 

Before he could say anything else about Daniel, I kissed him again tugging off his beanie and running my fingers through his soft locks. He broke away and nuzzled his face in my neck, arms wrapped tightly around my waist. “I’m so sorry, baby. I was a total ass. I should never have said those things.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I regret everything that happened. My emotions were all wack because of my period.”

“Well...I did deserve that slap.” 

“Maybe a little.”

“Hey!” He laughed, letting me know he wasn’t really offended. My thumb brushed over his cheek as I looked up into his eyes. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I was too ashamed about what had happened that day to talk about it and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me?”

Leaning up, I kissed him gently savoring every moment. “Jisung, I love you. You never have to be ashamed to tell me anything. I love you unconditionally. Even when you leave coffee mugs all over the house. Even when you forget to pick up groceries when I ask you eight times in an hour.” He laughed resting his forehead against mine. “My love for you is greater than any mistake you could make or problem you have.”

“You are so cheesy.”

“You love it.” 

“I love you,” 

Jisung tilted his head, leaning down for another kiss. This one was slower, more careful. A knock on the door pulled us apart. Danny stood in the entryway, drinking from his wine glass. “So I’m assuming you will need a plus one on the wedding invite?” He said with a smile. 

“Jisung?” He closed his eyes and smiled hearing his name from my lips. “Would you go to a wedding with me?” He nodded, kissing me on the cheek. 

“Would love to, baby.” 

Daniel walked over and reached over to shake Jisung’s hand. “Nice to finally meet you,” He said with his goofy, lopsided grin. Jisung warily looked him up and down but smiled and shook his hand. “You want to be a groomsman?”

“Depends. Did you fuck the love of my life when you were eighteen?”

“JISUNG!”

“WHAT?”

◈

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

[fuckallthegood0nesweretaken]

New World CH. Six

Title: Fallen Home

Words: 3410

Warnings: Strong language, character death (major and minor), canon-typical violence, kissing

A/N: If you’d like to request something, send me an ask. I’d love to write for you!

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Masterlist

~~~~~~~

When it had gotten dark, you, Daryl, Shane, and Rick had taken Randall to the barn. You were holding the lantern and Daryl held Randall by the arm. He was trying to get you to stop, but none of you listened. Rick opened the doors to the barn and you all walked in.

 “Put him there,” Rick said, pointing to the middle of the barn. You set the lantern down and leaned against a post, arms crossed.

 “It’ll all be over soon,” Shane said quietly. He put a blindfold over Randall’s eyes and Rick went to stand in front of him.

 “What’s gonna be over soon?” Randall asked.

 “Just relax.”

 Rick went to check his gun and when Randall started crying, he looked up.

 “Would you like to stand or kneel?” Rick asked.

 “Oh no, please,” Randall cried. Rolling your eyes, you pushed yourself away from the pole and shoved him to his knees. Grabbing his hair, you made him look forward.

 “Shut up,” you muttered. He kept sobbing, but you didn’t care. When he was gone, the threat of something happening to your family goes away too. Rick made eye contact with you and you nodded, Shane and Daryl doing the same.

 “Do you have any final words?”

 “No. Please,” Randall begged. “Please don’t. Don’t.”

 Rick stayed silent and raised his gun. Pointing it at Randall and cocking it, he was just about to shoot when Carl appeared.

 “Do it, dad. Do it,” he said. Your head whipped to the doors and you looked at Rick. Shane let out an angry breath and walked to Carl, taking his arm and leading him outside.

 “You kidding me? What did I say to you?” Shane said to Carl. “What did I say?”

 Rick took his gun away from Randall’s head. “Take him away.”

 Daryl looked at Rick before picking him up. You took the lantern and the two of you led him back to the shed. Daryl tied him back up as you watched.

 “I don’t know if he’ll kill him now,” you said after he was restrained and the door locked. “Why did Carl show up? We told him to stay with his mom.”

 “I think he just wants ta be involved,” Daryl said.

 “Maybe, but he’s just a kid. He shouldn’t have to see all of this. I was talking to Dean and I think he and Beth are being desensitized to everything. I’m gonna have to keep a closer eye on him. What if one of the girls had followed him and he didn’t notice?”

 Daryl didn’t say anything, but he pulled you in for a kiss. Once his lips touched yours, you could feel your worries wash away. Letting out a soft sigh, you kissed back gently and put your arms around him. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was soft and gentle. Exactly what you needed in that moment.

 “I’d love to keep kissing you, but I’d like it if we took it away from where Randall is,” you murmured, lips brushing Daryl’s. He chuckled and pulled away, taking your hand.

 “Are ya tellin’ me that ya want ta go somewhere else?” Daryl said lowly.

 “Only if you wanna.”

 Daryl looked you up and down before licking his lips. The action made your cheeks heat up and Daryl tugged you close to him before attaching himself to your neck. You whimpered, fire coursing from your neck down to your belly. He was focusing on one spot; kissing, biting, and sucking. You were clinging to his jacket and Daryl started walking you backwards until your back hit the shed with a thud.

 “D-Daryl,” you cried when he pulled back. He kissed your lips again, and grabbed your waist.

 “Hope ya don’t mind a mark,” Daryl said cheekily.

 “I certainly don’t.” Your eyes were hooded and you had forgotten where you were. Going back in for another kiss, a scream pierced through the air.

 “Oh my god.” You and Daryl ran towards the screams. Your gun was drawn and Daryl had his knife in his hand.

 “T-Dog, grab a shotgun!” You heard Sam say.

 The screams got louder and you saw Dale on the ground, a walker on top of him. Daryl was faster and got to him first, tackling the walker to the ground before plunging his knife into its head. You slid next to Dale and looked up to see if there were any more of them around.

 “Help! Over here!” Daryl yelled, waving his arms around. “Help! Run!”

 “Come on, Dale. Stay with me,” you said. “You’re gonna be alright.”

 “Hang in there, buddy,” Daryl said.

 “Who is it?” Dean asked. Everyone came at the same time and Rick knelt down by Dale’s head.

 “Oh my god,” Shane said. Lori had Carl and Glenn had Adeline in his arms.

 Adeline screamed and you gathered her up, pushing her face into your shoulder. Rubbing her back, you tried to calm her down.

 “Listen to my voice,” Rick said. “You’re gonna be okay. Get Hershel! He needs blood, we gotta operate right now!”

 “Hang on, Dale.” Andrea had fallen to her knees and took Rick’s place next to Dale’s head. Everyone was either yelling or freaking out and you only looked up when you heard Hershel.

 “What happened?” He asked.

 “What can we do? Can we move him?” Dean asked.

 “He won’t make the trip,” Hershel said.

 “You have to do the operation here. Glenn, get back to the house!” Rick yelled.

 “Rick!” Rick looked at Hershel and when he shook his head, Rick spun around.

 “No!” He shouted. You were holding back tears and when you felt Daryl put his hand on your back, you threw yourself into his arms. You could hear some of the others sobbing and you clung tighter to Daryl as Adeline started crying louder.

 “He’s suffering,” Andrea said through her tears. “Do something!”

 You looked up and saw Rick pulling out his gun. He pointed it at Dale’s head but didn’t pull the trigger. That’s when Daryl gently pulled himself away from you and your daughter, taking the gun from Rick. Kneeling down, he cocked the gun.

 “Sorry, brother,” he said before pulling the trigger.

 ---

 You didn’t get much sleep that night, Dale’s screams echoing in your head, his ripped open chest flashing beneath your eyelids whenever you closed them. So you helped dig his grave and decorate it with stones. Daryl and Rick were the ones to bring his body over before you and your brothers helped cover him with dirt. The funeral was held at sunrise and even though Rick was talking, all you heard was mumbles. The air was crisp, but you didn’t feel the cold. All you felt was numb.

 After the funeral, you helped pack up everyone’s belongings to be moved into the house. You didn’t have much yourself, but since Lori was pregnant you did all the heavy lifting for her. Bringing some stuff into the house, you walked back outside with T-Dog to find her lifting something too heavy.

 “Whoa. Don’t-Don’t strain yourself,” T-Dog said.

 “You know you shouldn’t be lifting that,” you chided softly.

 “Thank you,” she said. “My family and I are taking the corner of the living room.”

 “You can put that in my room,” Hershel said to T-Dog. To Lori he said, “You’ll be more comfortable there.”

 “We can’t do that.”

 “A pregnant woman sleeping on the floor while I’ve got a bed to myself?”

 “This is still your house.”

 “It’s our home. I’ll take the couch downstairs. I’m very well acquainted with it.”

 “Thank you, Hershel,” you said. “I’ll take the last bin up.”

 “Thank you.” Lori smiled at you and you walked upstairs.

 As you took a look at the room, you set the bin on the bed. You were about to leave when Lori showed up.

 “Well this is cozy,” she said.

 “It looks comfortable, that’s for sure.”

 “Thanks for helping me bring this up.”

 “It was no problem,” you said. “I’ll leave you to unpack.”

 You walked around Lori and down the stairs. Setting up yours and Adeline’s blankets and sleeping bags in a corner, you jumped when Daryl dropped a bag next to you.

 “Ya don’t mind me stayin’ with ya, right?” He asked. There was nervousness in his voice and you smiled.

 “Of course I don’t.” You saw him visibly relax and he touched your cheek gently.

 “Gotta go plan with Rick and Sam. I’ll be back later.”

 “Alright.”

 After you set up your sleeping space, you helped Beth and Jimmy board up the windows. It was something mindless to do and it helped you clear your mind. When that was finished, you walked around the porch, always watching the horizon. You knew that there were better vantage points, but they were away from the house.

 It wasn’t long before Daryl and Rick were ready to go drop Randall off and when T-Dog went to go get him, you heard a shout.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked, running towards the shed.

 “Randall’s missing,” Daryl said. He looked to woods.

 “The cuffs are still hooked, he must’ve slipped ‘em,” Rick said.

 “Is that possible?” Carol asked.

 “If someone really wanted to, they would find a way,” you said.

 “The door was secured from the outside?” Sam asked.

 “Yes.”

 “Maybe he slipped through the rafters?”

 “Couldn’t have. I sealed those shut today,” Daryl said.

 “Rick! Rick!” Shane yelled. You turned around and saw Shane coming from the woods. Blood was all over his face and was dripping onto his chest.

 “Oh my god, are you okay?” Carol asked him.

 “He’s armed! He got my gun!” He said. “And I’m okay, little bastard just snuck up on me. Clocked me in the face.”

 “Alright, Hershel, T-Dog, get everybody back in the house. Glenn, Daryl, come with us.”

 “I’m coming too, Rick.” Rick looked at you like he wanted to argue, but you shot him down. “I can track just as well as Daryl, you need me.”

 “Alright.”

 “[Y/n], no. Stay here,” Dean said.

 “I’m the best tracker next to Daryl and you know it. I’m going.” You kissed both your brothers cheeks and checked your gun before securing it in its holster.

 “T, I’m gonna need that gun,” Shane said.

 “Just let him go. That was the plan, wasn’t it? To let him go?” Carol said as she hugged herself.

 “We were gonna let him go far away from the farm. Now he’s armed and in the forest. He’s to close,” you said.

 “Sam, make sure Adeline stays occupied. I don’t want her freaking out,” you said to him. He nodded and corralled Carl back into the house, Dean following reluctantly.

 “Get everybody back in the house. Lock all the doors and stay put!” Rick walked away and you followed closely behind.

 “I saw him head up through the trees that way before I blacked out,” Shane said. “Not sure how long.”

 “He couldn’t have gotten far,” Rick said.

 “He’s still slightly injured and exhausted. Don’t think he’s been gettin’ much sleep since he came here,” you said.

 “But he’s armed.”

 “So are we. Can you track him?” Rick asked you and Daryl.

 “No, I don’t see nothin’,” Daryl answered.

 “Yet. But we’ll find him.”

 “Hey look, there ain’t no use in tracking him. He went that way, gotta split up to cover more ground,” Shane said. “We just gotta chase him down. That’s it.”

 “Kid weighs a buck-twenty five soakin’ wet. Ya tryin’ ta tell us he got the jump on ya?” Daryl looked at Shane.

 “I’d say a rock pretty much evens those odds.”

 “Alright, knock it off. [Y/n] you go with Daryl and Glenn. Head up the right flank, see if you can find anything. Me and Shane’ll take the left. Remember that we’re not the only ones out here.”

 “Alright. Be careful, Rick.”

 “I will.” He gave your arm a pat and walked away with Shane.

 ---

 It had gotten dark quick but luckily Glenn had brought a flashlight. After about thirty minutes Daryl had had enough and led you back to where you started.

 “We’re just back to square one,” Glenn said.

 “If you’re gonna do a thing, ya might as well do it right,” Daryl said back.

 “It kind of bothered me that Shane said tracking wouldn’t matter,” you muttered. “Something’s wrong.”

 “There’s two sets of tracks right here.” You walked over to Daryl and looked at the ground. “Shane must’ve followed him a lot longer than he said.”

 “And there’s fresh blood on this tree.” Daryl shined the flashlight on the tree and you couldn’t help but think that it was the perfect height for Shane to hit his head.

 “More tracks here. Looks like they’re moving in tandem,” you said, shaking yourself mentally. Glenn followed Daryl and bumped into him. You could tell that he was nervous and you put a calming hand on his arm.

 “There was a little dust up right here.”

 “What do you mean?”

 “I mean somethin’ went down.”

 “This is getting weird,” Glenn said quietly.

 “That’s an understatement,” you quipped.

 “Looks like there was trouble here too.”

 Daryl shined the light on Randall’s blindfold and Glenn picked it up. Then a branch snapped and the three of you rushed to hide behind some trees. You kept your breathing steady and carefully looked back. You saw a walker and turned to Daryl. Signaling that it was just one, Daryl whistled softly to Glenn and threw him the flashlight.

 The noise of the walker got closer to where you were hiding and you readied your weapons. When it was basically on top of you, you got out of your hiding place and Glenn shined the light on his face. It was Randall. Glenn was surprised and before Randall could push him to the ground, you kicked Glenn away. In turn, that made you get tackled by Randall. Daryl shot at him, but missed slightly. The noise made Randall go after Daryl and before you could get to him, Daryl went down too. Glenn was closer and tackled Randall, knocking him off of Daryl. You rushed to help Daryl up and Glenn stabbed him in the head.

 “Nice,” Daryl said to Glenn, patting him. To you he said, “Ya alright?”

 “I’m fine. You good?” Daryl nodded and touched your cheek. Glenn took his knife out of Randall’s skull and stepped back towards you.

 “Doesn’t seem to be any bite marks,” you mused, looking over the body.

 “Wait, what?”

 “There’s no wounds other than his head. No other blood or scratch marks.”

 “His neck broke though,” Daryl said.

 “Are you sure?”

 “I’m tellin’ ya, he died from this.” Daryl gestured to his neck.

 “How’s that possible?”

 “It shouldn’t be.” You were frowning, but got up. “We should get back to the house. See if Rick and Shane are back.”

 Daryl grabbed his arrow from the tree and the three of you started walking. You heard a shot as you were walking back and you all picked up the pace, eager to get back to the farm. It didn’t take long to get back and Adeline was happy to see you.

 “Rick not back yet?” You asked Lori as you picked up your daughter.

 “You’re back first.” You frowned and looked outside.

 “We heard a shot,” Daryl said.

 “Maybe they found Randall?” Sam said.

 “We found Randall,” Daryl said. “He turned.”

 “The weird thing was that there were no bite marks, no scratches,” Glenn said. “His neck was broken and he died from that.”

 “Shane and Randall’s tracks were right on top of each other,” Daryl said. “And Shane ain’t no tracker. He didn’t come up behind him.”

 “They were together,” you said quietly.

 “Would you please get back out there and find Rick and Shane?” She asked Daryl. “Find out what on earth is goin’ on?”

 “Ya got it.”

 “Thank you.”

 “I’ll go too,” you said.

 “No mommy!” Ada said, clinging to your neck.

 “Alright. I won’t leave,” you said after a second. Adeline in your arms, you went outside. Spotting Daryl, you saw him staring out at the barn, Andrea, Dean, and T-Dog with him.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked before your voice died in your throat. Some of the others had joined you.

 “Kill the lights, Patricia,” Hershel said.

 “I’ll get the guns.” Andrea ran inside.

 “Maybe they’re just passing? Like on the highway? Should we go inside?” Glenn said hurriedly.

 “Not unless there’s a tunnel I don’t know about,” Daryl said back.

 “Herd this size will tear the house apart,” you said. “We either have to fight back or leave. Now.”

 “Carl’s gone,” Lori said, running outside.

 “What?” Dean said.

 “He’s supposed to be upstairs. I’m not leaving without my boy!”

 “We’re not,” Carol said. “We’re gonna look again and find him.”

 “Fuck!” You muttered. You watched the walkers converge at the barn and looked back when Andrea tried to hand you a gun.

 “Thanks.” You set down Adeline and grabbed the gun from Andrea, checking it quickly.

 “Ada, baby, you’re going to stay with Lori and Carol, okay? Wherever they go, you go with them.” Adeline nodded and Carol took Adeline inside.

 “It’ll be no use ta fight,” Daryl said.

 “You can go if you want.” Daryl looked at Hershel.

 “Ya gonna take ‘em all on?”

 “We have guns and cars,” Dean said. “We might have a fighting chance.”

 “Kill as many of them as we can. Use the cars to lead the rest off the farm,” you said, getting the gun ready.

 “You serious?”

 “This is my farm. I’ll die here.”

 “Alright. It’s as good a night as any.” Daryl hopped over the fence and you followed him.

 “I’ll ride with you. You drive and I’ll shoot,” you said.

 He nodded and you got on the bike behind him. Daryl drove up to the fence and you both started shooting at the walkers that got too close. Glenn and Maggie were in a car and Andrea and T-Dog were in another, your brothers in the Impala. The barn had gone up in flames and once there were too many walkers, Daryl drove to the RV where Jimmy was.

 “Maybe Rick and Shane set the fire. Go get ‘em!” Jimmy nodded and drove off. Daryl left again soon after and you kept shooting as he drove.

 “There’s too many of them!” You shouted. “Nothing’s gonna happen ‘cept us running out of ammo.”

 Despite that, you kept shooting until you were completely out.

 “I have nothing left! Drop me off at the house.”

 Daryl drove to the house and before you could leave, he kissed you fiercely. You kissed back and reluctantly pulled away, running to Lori and Adeline.

 “Still haven’t found Carl?” You asked. She shook her head and you ran into the house. Grabbing your pack and some of the girls things, you went back outside. “We gotta leave Lori. We can’t stay here.”

 “I can’t leave without Carl!”

 “You have to trust, Lori,” Carol said. You grabbed Adeline and Sophia while Carol went inside to get Beth and Patricia. The six of you started running and T-Dog and Andrea drove up. Patricia got swarmed and Lori pulled Beth away.

 “Get in!” Andrea yelled, getting out of the truck to shoot.

 “Get Carol!” Lori said to her as she got in. She, Ada, Sophia, and Beth sat in the front while you got into the bed.

 “Got a gun, T?” You asked. He handed you one and you started shooting. Looking at Andrea, you saw her fall and slammed your hand on the roof of the truck.

 “Go, T, go!” You screamed. He started driving away and you kept shooting at the walkers that got too close. After moving away from the farm, you heard fighting in the car. It was getting light out and you hit the roof.

 “What’s going on?” You said. Beth opened the window and you heard Lori talk about going to the highway.

 “She’s right, T-Dog. If anyone survived, they’ll be going there.” After another minute of fighting, Lori threatened to open the door and walk there herself.

 “You turn around or you let us out right now!”

 “You’re out of your damn mind!” He said. But he turned the car around and started going back to the highway. You let out a sigh of relief, sitting back and letting yourself relax slightly. Hopefully everyone else was there.

[deanswaywardgirl]

The Most Painful of Heartbreaks- Part 1

The pain of losing her boys was tearing her apart inside and all she wanted to do was die and end the excruciating pain for good. She curled into a ball as if it would hold her together, and closed her eyes, the sobs wracking her body. She knew she had guests there in the bunker with her: Castiel, Jack, Bobby, Jodie, Donna, Claire, Alex, and other hunter allies of Sam and Dean's, and she knew they knew she was grieving, but she didn't have the energy to leave her room. The only noise that accompanied her was her crying until there was a knock at the door before it opened to reveal her favorite Michigan sheriff, Donna Hanscum. "Heya, hun, how you holding up?" she asked, her cheeks red and her eyes puffy. Guilt struck Faith hard. Of course her friends were mourning the loss of Sam and Dean Winchester; it wasn't just her. Everybody at the bunker had lost them. "I'm not," Faith cried, sitting up and letting her eyes fall into her lap. Donna nodded as she crossed to the bed and sat on the edge in front of Faith, taking her hand. "I know, I know. We miss 'em too. You don't have to go through this alone. We're all here." "I know, Donna, I'm sorry. It's just so hard to get out of this bed, knowing they're not in the library. Knowing Dean's not eating a plate full of bacon in the kitchen. Or Sam constantly doing random research in the library." A small smile graced Faith's lips before it fell again, her bottom lip quivering. "They'll never do it again. Any of it." Donna sniffled and gently pulled the girl into a hug, crying with her. "You know, its okay to be sad. It's even okay to be angry. But I need you to know, it's not okay to blame yourself. It wasn't your fault, you understand me?" "Donna, at this point, I don't care who's fault it was. My boys are gone, and I'll never see them again. And because of it, I just wanna die. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. It's only been two days and I'm already done with this pain that's only gonna last forever if I let it." "You know that's not what they would want," a new voice entered, Jodie standing in the doorway. Faith and Donna glanced up at her and Faith bowed her head and closed her eyes. "That's not what Dean would want. They'd want you to live your life. Be happy." Faith looked up at her, shaking her head. "I don't know how to be happy without them. They were my family, my boys. Sam and Dean were everything to me." Jodie knelt down in front of her. "Do you know how I met them?" she asked, tears in her eyes, earning a nod from the younger girl. "Your husband and your son died in the apocalypse." "That's right. And I was right where you are right now. I was a mess. I didn't want to see anyone, I wanted to die. My family was dead and I had lost everything that had ever mattered to me. But I made a new family. And now, it's because of them that I get up in the morning. They keep me going." Faith swallowed hard and shook her head. "I can't replace the Winchesters. I could never love someone the way I loved Dean. He was my home. My safe place." "I'm not saying you should ever replace them. But you know, you have me and the girls. You have Donna. You have Castiel and Jack out there. Bobby's here. They didn't just come here for Cas and Jack, they're here for you too. We all love you, Faith. You're our family too." Faith nodded and licked her lips. "Can you two come with me?" she asked, looking between the two sheriffs, who nodded. Faith stood from the bed and walked out of the room towards the library. She hesitated before anyone in the library could see her, and took a deep shaky breath, more tears falling, then walked into the room and looked around at the occupants, who had grown silent at her arrival. Castiel caught her eye and moved to the front of the crowd. "Faith.." he said softly, then moved toward her and engulfed her in a tight hug, cradling her head to his shoulder as the girl cried into his shoulder, her knees giving way before he fell with her. It was a moment before she pulled back and walked up the stairs. "Faith..Faith!" Castiel called before following her. Jodie and Donna followed as well, the three of them following her around to the back of the bunker where two crosses were standing, one reading Sam Winchester and the other, Dean Winchester. Faith fell to her knees between them and screamed her pain before laying down and crying, pounding her fists into the ground. "HOW COULD YOU?!?!? YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER LEAVE ME!" she yelled at them through her tears, pulling the grass out of the ground. A pair of arms wrapped around her. "NO! LEMME GO! THEY PROMISED ME!" Her sobbing grew harder. "THEY PROMISED ME!" Jodie held her tightly, her own tears falling down her cheeks as she set her  chin on top of her head and rocked her back and forth.

Hours later, the girl had cried herself to sleep in Jodie's arms and Castiel had carried her back inside to the room she had shared with Dean, and covered her with one of Dean's shirts. Her, Cas, Bobby, and Donna sat in the kitchen at the table, not sure what to do. "Would she do it? Would she kill herself if it meant seeing them again?" Donna asked, sniffling. Castiel sniffled as well and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm almost positive she would. I've never seen her in this much pain before. I mean, they've died before, but they've always come back. But this time, she knows there's no bringing them back and that's the problem. She wants them back, but she knows after saving the world as many times as Sam and Dean have, they deserved to rest. She can't bring herself to be selfish, no matter how much it hurts. Their ashes are in her room, one on each nightstand. She'd insisted on it after the funeral." He wiped his eyes once more and sighed, swallowing hard. "Honestly, I'm afraid to leave her alone. I feel like she'll either find a hunt and let herself be killed, or she'll do it in her room. Which is why I posted Jack in her room to make sure she doesn't." "Nice try, Castiel," Faith said from the doorway. "But I'm not an idiot and I'm sure as hell not selfish. I miss my boys so much, it physically hurts to breathe. But I won't bring them back. After everything they've done for this damn planet, they deserve paradise. And I won't be the one to take it away from them, or interrupt it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna take a drive to clear my head. I can't sit in this bunker anymore." She turned to walk away when Castiel grabbed her arm. Faith turned and pinned him against the wall with an angel blade to his throat, her eyes glowing blue. "Do not touch me again." She backed away and turned to the two sheriffs, nodding. "Thank you for everything, but I'm fine. You can go." She walked away before they could say anything.

TO BE CONTINUED....

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is really an update to this particular fic. I will be doing a part 2, but I’m not sure how long or short it will be. I may just start writing it and see where it ends up, length wise, and then I’ll let y’all decide whether there should be a part 3.

@ellewritesfix05 @bi-danvers0 @theroadsofar05to20 @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @mia-ono

[aspiestvmusings]

ZEP: MY ISSUES WITH “ZOEY”

Here’s a new  long analysis post for ZEP S1. This one is focused on Zoey, and the things that I have issues with...about the writing & the character: 

Just me...dissecting & analyzing the storyline...with focus on Zoey & Team Max. But since the stories are so intertwined, there’s Zoey/dad & Zoey/Simon talk, too. Cause the so-called “love triangle” [the relationships between those three characters that they try to market as a love triangle] is one of my issues with the show.  

WARNING: Very long post & possibly full of unpopular opinions. 

I HAVE ISSUES...WITH “ZOEY” (READ: WRITING & CONTINUITY...)

                   ****************************************************  

IMO Zoey is “unfair” with both men. She’s in such deep denial & even now that she’s learning empathy & be emotionally more available she’s still running from her feelings, cause she just doesn’t wanna deal with them (the truth). Every time when the three of them interact, she always claims that there’s nothing going on. She tells Simon that there’s nothing between her & Max, and they’re just friends. She tells Max that there’s nothing between her & Simon, and he’s just helping him with grief. She  tries to belittle the other man’s part in her life. 

                   ****************************************************  

She actually knows how she feels about both. She actually knows it all. (we’ve seen her reveal the truth to her mom & to Mo...in some scenes...so we know that what she tells the men is half-truths..at best) But she is doing everything in her power to deny it, and so she “denies” it also to the two men. But...in doing so she’s been unfair to both men, kinda leading them on. I understand that that’s done intentionally... and is supposed to be one of her “character flaws”. That she was (and still is) emotionally challenged, and the new superpower is here to help her learn empathy & make her understand others (and her own) emotions. But while I know what the intent of the writers is... I get a bit of different impression from the actual storyline...as I watch it. Cause...there is some “inconsistency” here. 

                   ****************************************************  

I did not get “Zoey sees Max in a new light, cause unlike Simon, who is stuck in the past, he’s now looking into future, and she needs that kind of “positivity” right now”. Instead I got the feeling that she’s not into him and how he’s become more confident and has a new outlook on life (all started with those peer reviews...), but his position of power. That she’s into the fact that he’s the boss. Cause she’s been fighting against “the universe” this whole time (however many days/months the events between the MRI & the Bad Moon Rising...took in their universe). And suddenly... (and it doesn’t feel like it’s cause she’s started to see the powers as something positive, or because she is accepting her loss, or dealing with her grief...it just feels like she’s being “superficial”) she finds him attractive. 

                   ****************************************************  

I mean... in 1x05, when she sees Max shirtless, she can’t stop staring. She wants that body. Then in 1x06, when Max goes after what he wants [this all started with the peer reviews] - the scooter, she finds that ”action” hot. Same in the finale, when he says he enjoyed being the boss, she finds him attractive. Drawn to “power figure, manly man stereotype”. It’s like Zoeys “Button’s moment”. She seems to lean toards the man, who shows...at the time...”confidence” & muscles. 

                   ****************************************************  

The other thing that makes her lean towards one of them is...”we’re just friends”. She wants what she can’t have. She wants more than the other person wants/offers. She starts really going after Simon..strong (obsessing over him) when he stays true to it not being ok to be more than friends, cause he’s engaged. After Simon says they should stay friends, she does not like that, and complains (to Mo) that the man doesn’t want to be more than friends. And she goes after him... to the point where she tries to hook up with him. Then when she & Max make up, and agree to start a fresh... and Max is all for friendship, she suddenly wants more, and goes after him... tries to hook up with him. When one of the two says that they should just be friends, she suddenly starts finding them irresistible & wanting more. That’s another sttange (planned or accidental) thing I noticed about S1...

                   ****************************************************  

There is a very clear pattern in her behaviour throughout the season. And these are just a few of the “parallels” & patterns. And while very “human” & “real”, and “believable”...from someone grieving, emotionally challenged & “a mess”, none of this is “healthy behaviour”, or anything she should remain stuck in. Which is why they need to let it go... let the “triangle drama” rest. 

                   ****************************************************  

And I’ve kinda started questioning if the girl is just frustrated, and perhaps she just needs some, cause this time she came onto Max (who was all in for the “let’s be just friends for now” thing movie nights and stuff...), and she REALLY could not wait... no more...for him to finish the singing... It kinda made me question if she truly sees him a new light as she says, or is this her “Buttons” moment, and nothing else. I mean..we saw her try to use similar tactic with Simon... on her “anger phase day”. She was trying to use se* as a tool to deal with her anger. And this time it seemed like she was trying to use se* as a tool to deal with loneliness or frustration. However “real” and “human” that is... it’s not “good”. At times I truly think, based on her behaviour, that she just wants to get some...cause she seems to be unable to deal with..anything.. until she’s gotten that out of her system. 

                   ****************************************************  

She also does not seem to learn the lessons she gets. I mean.. Mo told her already in 1x04 that  “You’ll get better at using your superpower. As long as you see every failure not as defeat, but as a stepping stone on the road to success.”...yet she only got it & admitted it [in her speech to her dad] in the finale, 1x12. And also...she seems to not be so blind, and can help apply the lessons to others (giving Tobin the advice she got from Mo...about hard conversations between friends; helping Mo with Eddie...when her situation with Max is the same...as Mo points out). It does not seem “believable”...even if we apply the “she’s a grieving mess & emotionally challenged & running from her feelings & avoiding her own emotions” filter to her behaviour. It still doesn’t “fit”... she just goes back & forth...too much... and that makes it feel like it’s inconsistency in the writing [artificially created...delays & conflict], instead of it feeling as the writing probably means it to be - that its due to her “being a mess”.  

                   ****************************************************  

What I need from S2: for Zoey to be honest with both men. Stop being in denial, and admit her feelings to herself, and to them. How she feels abut each. Telling Max about her kisses with Simon. Telling Simon about her history with Max. And...unless they all agree that it doesn’t have to be two, but it could be three (polygamy), then she has to make a choice, and stop leading them both on. And I want the men to bond, and “demand” honesty from her....if the show really does intend to keep the “love triangle” going...as they claim in their S2 plans interviews. This is why I like both actors (and based on the finale scenes..both of their characters) take on the whole thing (they’re Team Zoey), and I don’t support what seems to be the showrunners & the networks take on the thing (that it’s a competition between the two & that love triangles are the greatest device in writing...)

                   ****************************************************  

Cause right now the S1 finale actually put that to rest...during the last song (as we saw Simon admit he saw them together, and knows she's into Max, and shook his hand...cause he knows what he did...calling him to let him know about her dad.... and how selfless that was, and we saw how Max was there next to her throughout the last song... just a shoulder to lean on...without any pressure or anything. So...on screen the triangle thing was actually put to rest. (except for Zoey’s last talk with her dad...which happened before the funeral,  but still gave them the out to leave things open... to keep the non-existent competition between teams alive...cause network/showrunner love the idea of TS vs TM...to the level that I feel is dloing disservice to the characters and story)

                   ****************************************************  

I’ve said it before... I know what their intent is (cause network TV is easy to read... even the best written shows still follow the same simple formula & rules), but I don’t get that on screen. But most of the “love triangle” thing does not feel to me like it being because Zoey is grieving or because she has low EQ. It just feels like she’s almost intentionally playing with the mens feelings. And I don’t appreciate that. Even if it comes from her only learning to empathize, and not being in touch with her feelings. From her not being able to handle feelings, and hence denying the feelings she has...fighting against feeling... It comes off as like her not just being unfair, but downright playing with Simon’s & Max’s feelings. Cause by now she knows how both of them feel. She has absolute clarity about their feelings...and they have no real clarity about hers. 

They both had their moment(s) with her, but she has to have “hard conversations” with both of them...where she is completely honest with them. Yet she keeps telling Simon that there’s no need to be jealous of Max & her (and then goes and kisses him). And she keeps telling Max that she had no idea she had those feelings for Simon (and Max). When we know that there are two people who know...more of the truth... Maggie & Mo. Everyone else gets the tweaked truth. 

                   ****************************************************  

So yeah...while the intent most likely was that Zoey was clinging to Simon, and in the process of doing so (holding on to the past... cause she was not ready to let go of her dad, so she tried to keep the status quo by creating that grief bond with Simon), I haven’t truly sensed that from the season as a whole. And even though we & Zoey saw that while Simon was still clinging to the past in 1x10, while she has been slowly starting to let go, he seems to have started to move on, slowly, too, in 1x12 (or has he? Maybe it’s all one of his great pretender tactics...like being too cheery outside on a Tuesday morning...while singing “mad world” inside) . But...he still probably represents the past to Zoey. And Max represents the future. That was most likely their intent with the S1 finale Max and his optimistic outlook.

This all comes back to what Zoey told her mom in 1x04 about her connection with Simon: “He’s the only person who I can talk to about what I’m going through with dad. No one else understands, and I guess I'm worried that if I let it go, or let him go, then I... won’t ever feel this way again.” And interestingly enough for her, Max represents the opposite in the finale (especially). While her outlook so far has been - “how do I live without my dad?”, her best friends speech gave her a new outlook “one can experience failure or something bad happening, but still look forward to what’s to come”. The finales intent was most likely to say that she doesn’t feel like letting her dad go or letting the grief go means she won’t ever feel this way again. She can live without her dad, she will find love again...if she just opens up to the possibilities. 

                   ****************************************************  

In S2 I want the two men to bond, and ask her to make a choice. To stop being dishonest with them (and mostly herself). And since we saw the men talk to each other (when Max called Simon), and then saw them shake hands... we can hope that they kinda become “kinda friends”. They should both take a step back, and remove themselves from potential love interest roles...until she’s figured things out. Which can only happen after she’s had time to deal with her grief. Cause I’m not certain she’ll be able to stop playing her games even at this time, when her focus should (finally...after she ran from it all...during the whole time when her dad was still with them)  be only on grief & family. I don’t “trust” Zoey, but I believe in the two men. I see them being her friend at this time. But when she has gone through all the grief stages, they should have a talk...the three of them. And either they agree that “it could be three, not two” or they ask her to make a choice, and stop with her games. Finally be honest with herself, and them. Stop avoiding & running from her feelings. 

                   ****************************************************  

So... that is what I hope from the future. I mean...we didn’t get enough focus on her grief story, cause so much of the screentime was devoted to her dilemma about the two men that it took away so much focus from dad/daughter, and those stories and dynamics. And that was a shame. That she (the story) didn’t focus so much on how she deals (or doesn’t really deal) with the fact that she’s about to lose No 1 man in her life, her dad... and instead of focusing on herself, and her dad...the story almost seemed to evolve around her “choosing between the two men” (the so-called love triangle storyline)

                   ****************************************************  

In the S1 finale we saw how Zoey saw Simon sing he’s jealous of her & her best friend. And she kept that to herself. Then we saw her come on to her best friend, who was there for thier friends movie night. And all that barely days/weeks after...her fights with both of them (all events between 107 & 111). And then we hear her tell her dad that she likes that her hot new co-worker likes her back, and she’s also proud that at the same time she “hooked up” with her best friend. And how that complicates things. When it’s her who is complicating things...which are really uncomplicated. She still has no clarity. She still hides from her feelings. She is still in denial. She still tries to pursue both. And she needs to stop that. She needs to tell her best friend about her relationship & feelings for the engaged man (tell him about the kisses etc) & she needs to tell the grieving & newly single man about her long history with her best friend, and what (almost) happened... the night the music died. She “owes” it to them. 

                   ****************************************************  

We all know what the shows endgame is, and it’s been clear since the start. To everyone...no matter which team you support or root for. And they’ve written the characters and the relationships differently enough to prove the point. Even with the heart song choices. And from the finale alone we see Simon sing that he’s jealous (of her taking her best friend to each cheesequakes...which he thinks is something only they did...that one time), while Max sang that she has all of him.  One song puts the feelings of the person first, the other puts the feelings of the person they sing to first. And we’ve seen that throughout the season, when Max’s songs have been love songs to her, while Simon’s songs have been more about his grief and his “inappropriate” (cause he was engaged) feelings for her. The songs alone reveal it all. Max songs and behaviour always put Zoey, his best friend, first (even during the times/episodes...when they were “taking a break”). His actions are selfless, and full of unconditional love. While Simon’s songs are more or less about his feelings, and what he needs from her (should he stay or go...considering he’s engaged; he’s jealous...of the other man who gets her attention..too). 

                   ****************************************************  

And I’ve said this before...many times, but it’s worth to repeat: the two men in her lives, and their stories, and her relationship with them are written differently..on purpose. Both represent ...something...to her. I’ve compared Simons & Zoey’s grief before, and said how she is taking the same steps he did, making the same mistake he did, walking the same path..without learning from his mistakes. But..hopefully the s1 finale finally put an end to that. Because it did showcase how he is stuck, and she has been stuck in the same way. By clinging to him, she tried to keep things as they were, but at the same time things were changing... as her dad’d health was chaning..and no matter how much she tried to deny it, avoid it... life happens. 

I’ve said how she projects, and she definitely did that with Simon. And...unless they want to have her character stuck, and not have character growth, and be on the path to move on...there is no way they can keep up the love triangle or keep her relationship with Simon the same. Cause that means she’s going backwards, not forwads. And the S1 finale seemed to establish that she’s starting to see the world in new colours. And interstingly enough it took for her best friend, Max, to get through to her (Mo, Maggie, and others have tried...before..but it hasn’t clicked with her...til now), and so I think that they need to continue developing their friendship in S2. His optimistic outlook is what Zoey needs right now. (also... cannot wait for the episode when we hear Max sing “True Colours” to Zoey...oh the parallels...)

Choosing Simon now, after S1 end would mean that Zoey is going down Simon’s path - being stuck in grief, & that’s not what the intention is. To quote Simon from 1x10: “he’s jealous of his mom, cause she was able to move past the pain of loss & grief and she fond the joy...in life...again”. And since Z/S dialogue/story always kinda “parallels” the Z/M storyline, then her words can be applied to herself & Max, too, here. She tells him to go after that joy then...to realize it’s not as far as one might think. If she’d apply that to her own situation with Max, then she’d realize that for her (finding) the joy...again...is to realize it’s not as far as she thinks, cause for her her best friend reprsents that joy. 

                  ****************************************************  

So she either chooses Simon (grief, being stuck, past...cause even though they were making Simon start to move past ...all...that), then as a choice he represents clinging to the past for her. Or she chooses Max (joy, moving past the grief, not making the same mistakes again, and choosing to go the other way/seeing things from other perspective from now on). And we saw her admit that shes “going the other way” with her look on her powers...during her speech to her dad. Yet, she still didn’t apply the same logic to her situation with the two men... cause Simon = choosing grief & Max = choosing joy. 

But...the love triangle can only remain exising if she’ll choose Simon for now. If she’ll be not taking the advice she has gotten, and if she will “wallow in her grief" instead of focusing on “healing”. So...the only question is...how much in denial is she? How scared of the truth, and her own feelings/emotions is she? Will she cling to the past & we’ll see her repeat every mistake she saw Simon make (and she didn’t like... based on snapping at him “you’re still stuck” in 1x10). So...based on these lines alone (bits of dialogue from 1x10 & 1x12 especially: which way she chooses...like which way she chooses to look at her powers), and the lines each sang during the final number... the road back to joy is choosing Max. And yet that choice would (thankfully) end the so-called love-triangle. And I’m not sure the showrunner wants to choose that options. I think their intent is to focus on the LONG grief process, and milk it to the max. ;)

                  ****************************************************  

What I also need from S2: Seeing Simon really start working on his grief - seeing a therapist, continue on the path we saw starting in 1x11 & 1x12. Seeing Zoey take the time to actually grieve, and take time for herself (what Max told her to do...for now)..before she even starts thinking of dealing with her “complicated love triangle issues”. Seeing her stop being in denial, and admit her feelings to herself, and be honest with each man.  And ending this love triangle thing. Instead we need more focus on Mitch impact on Zoey. (via “flashbacks” & “dreams”...where we see her spend time with her dad). 

We need to see her relationships with each man, but without any romantic context. And she needs to apologize to both men...for her behaviour...even if they understand it was her grief anger. She really needs to acknowledge her behaviour, and she can do that best if she starts being honest with them. With her speech to her dad she took the first step... and as I predicted it’ll take losing her dad for real for her to start seeing the power as something positive, not negative. (but she also tries to be in a three-person relationship with both men..without admitting this to herself or them...and that’s not good)

                   ****************************************************  

I’m not sure if it’s just the network or does the showrunner himself truly like the love triangle. Because it’s the one aspect of the show that turns me away & makes me dislike the main character...and hence the show. It doesn’t feel “organic” anymore, it doesn’t feel like a growing story...it feels like the storyline is telling us one thing, but then someone comes in and adds a bit that doesn’t fit into the storyline. That’s how the love triangle thing feels by now. It’s like the writer has one idea, but then the network adds notes, and demand they be added...and they don’t fit...THAT’S what I think & feel when they have “Zoey debate between the two”. 

                   ****************************************************  

This is why I love the actors (Skylar & John) take so much. They both want to respect the character, and dare I say...they don’t seem to be into the idea of Zooey being “the prize” that their character have to “fight for”.  She is not that. They also all seem to acknowledge that each charater still needs to grow individually, and then and only then is Zoey gonna be ready to make her decision (after S & Z have gone through phases of grief, and done some therapy & after Max has figured out his new place in the world...), and I have mad respect for the two men. And I hope the message gets through also to the writers, showrunner & network. That they need to shift the focus, and let Zoey grieve...until they add the “love triangle drama” to the story. Only...unless it’s an actual agreement between all three that they’ll choose poly, there needs to be no actual “love triangle” & she has to choose - does she want the “for now = S.” or does she need the “forever = M.” Will she repeat her past mistakes & go for the overly complicated choice, or do as she planned...and take it slow & go for the right... “forever” guy.  

                   ****************************************************  

The other thing that I need from S2 is something I have complained was missing from S1: team work. In the sense that Zoey needs to trust people more, and let them help her & learn to lean on others. This “character flaw” was introduced already in ep 2, when Joan told Zoey: “Listen...as talented as you are, you can't take on these projects all by yourself. It's unsustainable.” The same applies to her personal life/storyline. She needs to trust her team (friends: Max, Mo & family: mom) more. So while S1 was mostly about each characters individual growth...as little as we sadly saw it (amidst the drama-lama), then S2 needs to shift focus on her support system, and show how she has learned to lean on others, and how she doesn’t try to go through it all alone. So..friendship (and romance) with Max, with Simon (I wish he wasn’t in the picture & they’d bring in someone else/new... but I know he’s gonna be there for the grief-bond, so...), with Mo...

                   ****************************************************  

We saw her have moments with Max (the advice he gave to her about going & talking to her dad..at the end on 1x08) & Joan (the advice she gave her in 1x11, when she told her about her own mom & her story). And surprise-surprise... there was no need for the other person to have gone through what she was/has gone through (dad dying) to be able to understand her, talk to her, give good advice, be there for her. 

                   ****************************************************  

And I want to see her bond more with others... even if they don’t have the same experience as she does. Because one of the things I don’t understand about the shows claims is... how they seem to claim (the show, the character) that no one else besides the people, who have lost their dad (or are losing the same person..her dad...their husband...) would understand. That one has to have gone through the exact esperience to be able to understand them. This is why I never undrstood what they were trying to tell with Zoey/Simon grief-bond. Because... even if both lost their dads, their experiences are different, so neither can truly understand the others experience...no better than anyone else (who hasn’t had the same loss) would. But...also-...most adults have experienced loss (grandparent, friend, parent...), so to assume that no-one else would understand... is strange to me. Yet...they kept it up til the finale. And in my own exprience the best support system is not the person, who has had the same experience, but the person who is simply there for you, who wants to help. It does not require similar experience for others to understand you/get you. You don’t need a mirror to look at, you need just someone who cares, and is simply present. 

I have examples from my own life. I have examples from people I know. For example my childhood friend, who helped her then boyfriend (now husband) though a hard time. They met in HS, and they’ve been together since then (we’re all over 35 now). Her man lost both of his parents very young...with just a few months apart..when they were in Uni & had been together just a few years. And she had not yet been though such close loss yet (by now she is...her dad died before mine did), yet... you could say that she was his rock, and helped him through the time...the most. And they are one of the strongest couples I know. So it has been so strange for me to watch the season & interviews where it’s constantly mentioned that no-one else would understand Zoey...when I don’t think that’s true. When I know, for a fact, that that’s not true. 

                    ****************************************************  

Team Max or Team Simon: 

Now.. I’ve come to realize that the answer to the question “Team Max or Team Simon” depends on a persons take on certain..things. And sometimes even depending on how peope view the actors that portay the characters.  And everyone can have their own opinion on this, and they should. And I know many of us agree (on both sides) that the season should’ve focused more on Team Zoey & that next season needs more focus on each characters growth individually... 

But...there is one thing I do not agree with from people who are not Team Max. And those are claims that Max is selfish, and rude towards Zoey. That how he acted after the flash mob rejection...and until they made up at the end of 1x11, was “acting out”....unfairly. That is the one thing I don’t agree with at all. 

Yes, just like Zoey (and Simon, and everyone else) Max has his character  flaws. And we certainly saw them in S1. But... unlike so many, I don’t think that he was OOC during the middle/end of the season (eps 7-11), which many have mentioned. Even Max fans. I find these POVs...interesting. Cause I interestingly did not find his behaviour such..

                  ****************************************************  

[shotsbyshae]

Rock & Roll

Warnings: Vomit inducing fluff, angst

Words: 1.4k

Pairing: Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Summary: You admired Tony Stark more than anyone, so it was only natural you took some time off after the battle, but what happens when you return a couple years later to find Rhodey's rebuilt the compound and someone strange is working in Tony's lab.

Takes place post Endgame, so spoilers. For those who have age issues, Peter is over 18 in this scenario. 

Song: Rock & Roll by Led Zeppelin

Carry me back, baby, where I come from.

2017

The lab is your favorite place in the compound and watching Tony Stark work is your favorite pastime. He spends more time here now than before, the fallout with Steve had taken a toll on everyone emotionally, but you could tell it had shaken him to the core – so he worked – developing new tech, avoiding his thoughts and emotions. Drowning out the noise with his rock classics, mostly AC/DC. You’ve only been with the team a couple of years now on and off, but he’s the one you admire most – always have.

The very first mission you worked together, you took out three assailants using the technique Romanoff had taught you during training and you thought no one was around to see what you had done, but as you spun around – giant smile plastered on your face – there he stood. His facemask was up, and he looked amused at your childlike excitement over your first official take down.

“Good job kid,” he had said proudly before closing his helmet and engaging his thrusters, flying off into the literal sunset.

From that moment, you knew you’d do anything to make him proud – you lived for it.

The second-best thing to seeing him look at you with pride, is watching him in his environment. In the lab his eyes are always bright, his boyish charm in full effect, and the amused smile he gets when he accomplishes something is always larger than life, making the corners of his eyes crinkle and you love it – you love him.

The sound of someone jogging down the hall pulls your attention away from Stark and you glance to see Peter Parker slow down to a walk as he gets closer to the lab, hands grasping the straps of his backpack.

“Hey,” he smiles brightly at you, “Is Mr. Stark –”

You hold your finger up to your lips, indicating for him to be quiet, as you continue to lean against the doorframe leading into the lab. You point toward Tony working ever so frantically on a problem on the board in front of him. “He’s working,” you whisper, as Peter moves to stand beside you.  

“Think we’ll be as cool as him one day?” Peter says softly, in awe of the brilliant man in front you.

You glance over at the boy, who is barely taller than you right now, knowing he’s only a handful of years younger than you. Aside from Wanda, the two of you are the youngest members of the team, although legally you could buy a drink at the bar right now.

“Doubt it,” you respond, folding your arms across your chest as you look back toward Tony. “We can hope though.”

2025

You stare out the window of the quinjet as it approaches the compound and smile thoughtfully at the familiar sight. Rhodey had rebuilt the facility just as Tony had envisioned the original, however this time it was complete with beautiful granite statues of Tony, Natasha, Steve, and Vision. You left after the funerals that day, needing time for yourself to mourn – to heal. Sam had understood, but stayed in touch, only giving you assignments when you asked for them, but it was time – time to come home – it’s what Tony would want and you can almost imagine the proud smile he would have on his face as you step off the quinjet.

But Tony isn’t there, Rhodey greets you with a warm embrace, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to be back,” you smile, even though your heart aches a touch.

You make your way through the facility slowly. The familiarity of it all bringing back fond memoires and warm emotions as you head down the hall. Your body knows where it’s going – instinctively – even if your mind hasn’t caught up yet.

The faint sound of Robert Plant’s voice reaches you first as you move down the corridor, his vocals growing louder the closer you get. The thought of someone in Tony’s lab angers you – that was his space – it should be off limits. Rhodey could build a separate lab for everyone else, you would speak with him about it. You reach the open door to the lab and your body freezes – heart drops. The music is loud – as it always was – drowning out the noise, but Zeppelin wasn’t his usual playlist.

It’s not him though, you remind yourself. God you missed it though, watching Tony’s brilliance in action was an experience in itself.

The man’s back is to you and you watch him methodically moving hologram designs around in front of him with both hands, like he’s conducting a symphony – just like Tony would do. Dark jeans sit low on his hips and the black shirt he’s wearing stretches tightly across the muscles in his shoulders and biceps as he moves. You tilt your head curiously, leaning against the doorframe as you’ve done countless times in the past – never interrupting – waiting for him to acknowledge your presence. He isn’t Tony, but from this view, he looks too damn good for you to even be angry anymore. The man places one hand on his hip as he runs his other through his messy, chestnut brown hair, nodding his head along with the beat of the song ‘Good Times Bad Times’. You can’t help but smile as he picks up a marker, imitating a drum riff, before he spins sharply on his heel, jumping at the sight of you leaning against the doorframe.

“Shit,” he exclaims as his hand flies to his chest, eyes wide from the scare you unintentionally gave him.

Your heart skips or flutters, whatever you want to call it, as bright, chocolate eyes stare at you. You open your mouth to speak, but close it slowly unable to form words as he smiles brightly at you – a familiar boyish charm shining through – childlike wonder still evident in those eyes, but he’s not a kid anymore. His face is thinner, jaw is more defined, and all you can think is Who is this man and what did he do with the boy?

“Hey,” he speaks again, turning down the music with a remote once he realizes you aren’t going to say anything. “Welcome back.”

“Hi,” you finally manage, still wrapping your mind around the situation.

The two of you stare awkwardly at each other for another moment before he cocks and eyebrow, “Wanna see what I’m working on?”

You nod enthusiastically, before moving inside the lab and over to the table he’s working at. He begins explaining the thingamajig he’s creating and all the components and specs, as he rambles – there’s the boy you knew – he loses you as soon as he starts talking though because you’re watching him speak with such excitement and joy that all you can do is think of Tony and smile.

“What?” He sees you smirking and stops, cocking his head to the side with narrowed eyes.

You know how much you strived for it – lived for it – so you smile warmly as you lean against the table with your hip, sharing the words you know he’s always strived for just as much as you, “He’d be so proud of you Parker.”

Peter stands a little straighter and you note just how much taller he is than you now, “He’d be proud of both of us.”

“We are pretty cool,” a mischievous smile replaces the endearing one on your face.

“So cool,” Peter quips.

The two of you share a smirk as you gaze into the dark eyes that you know are going to trouble for you – serious trouble.

“I should go unpack,” you remark, before you head toward the door.

You hear the marker tapping lightly on the table behind you as Peter says, “Hey, I – um – I’m glad your back.”

“Me too.” You turn slightly, your hand on the doorframe. “Hey Parker.” You gain his attention as he reaches for some sort of metal cannister, making sure he watches as your eyes travel the length of his body. “You look good.” The words are barely out of your mouth before you disappear from the doorway and make your way down the hall.

The sound of metal and plastic clanging against the tile floor of the lab echoes through the compound as does Peter cursing his clumsiness, “Shit!”

Part 2

[apiratecalledav]

Is there other stuff that makes you think hbo messed with gendrya?

Oh, man, I’m probably gonna be thought of as the Murray Bauman of the fandom…. But yeah, there’s actually quite a bit that makes me think that it’s possible. When season 8 first aired, I thought that maybe executive meddling shot them down for some reason, most logically to protect spinoff potential.  They might have let the show “test the waters” but ultimately wanted them left ambiguous.

I thought it was… interesting… that Gendry and Arya had by far the gentlest, most amicable breakup in the entire series— and that it was over Gendry’s lordship that he straight up said wasn’t worth anything without Arya—when HBO UK made a cryptic tweet that made me wonder if someone high up was leery of the pairing/fan reaction.  If they wanted the option for an Arya Stark spinoff someday, I could see why they wouldn’t want her to end in a relationship they thought might be poorly received.  

I also thought that maybe since Gendrya went so far out of the show’s usual M.O. (to the point that it was one of the very few things about season 8 that I was wildly off about) that their thought process might have plausibly been something like, “Gendrya can’t be endgame? Well, fuck it. We’ll go all out and have them do pretty much everything else: Make out, spend the night together, save the world, say, ‘I love you,’ and get down on one knee to propose.”

I also thought that I was probably just a tinfoil-hat-wearing weirdo saying, “My OTP wasn’t definitively endgame! It must be a conspiracy.”

But I rewatched the whole season a little while ago and I noticed some things that I think are… interesting. Although, you should keep in mind that it was during two VERY long and VERY boring days at work where I had nothing to do.

I could just be shipper trash, seeing what I wanna see. Maybe not. I’m just saying that I’d believe it if something was up. From the way they portrayed Arya and Gendry, in general and especially in comparison to Jon/D-ny (I’ve anti tagged but if you don’t have blacklisting enabled, this is your fair warning), I could believe that the writers like the ship. And while Arya is certainly not the poster child for perfect mental health, there isn’t anything to suggest she would be toxic in a long term relationship. She isn’t selfish or cruel. I also don’t think that she hates herself the way that Sandor and Jaime did and that she believes she deserves to be “punished” or alone. She didn’t say anything to Gendry about not wanting to be a wife, just not a lady. 

They’re consistently portrayed as a healthier/more favorable foil to Jon and D-ny:

In 8x01, D-ny swoops down on Winterfell and is cavalier as fuck about resources.  She has no comment about food except that dragons eat “whatever they want.” The next scene, we see Gendry running to catch a chunk of dragonglass that was about to tumble out of the wagon. He tells everyone to be careful because they need every last bit of it. He then goes on to climb up the wagon, much like Arya did in the pilot episode. I think it’s even in the same spot. If not, it’s very similar.

Also 8x01, D-ny tells Jon, “keep your Queen warm” and while they are kissing, Jon keeps opening his eyes and freaking out because scary dragons are eyeballing him. And D-ny is pretty much like, “Don’t worry about it, it’s cool.” Even though she’s already made a few jokes about how if they decide to roast Jon then he’s shit outta luck and she threatened Sansa. Then the very next scene is Gendry and Sandor just before Arya finds them. Arya teases Gendry as well but she also defends him from Sandor, compliments him, jokes he should “keep close to that forge” if he’s cold and tells him not to call her Lady Stark. They laugh and banter and all awkwardness fades away and they’re both grinning like dorks. Arya actively wants Gendry to see them as equals; D-ny subconsciously wants Jon in his place.

Even as the dead are practically in their backyard, D-ny keeps obsessing about the throne. Meanwhile, Arya’s station doesn’t bother Gendry anymore because he knows it doesn’t matter. He also signed up to help Jon immediately without asking for anything in return.

Arya and Gendry each seek the other out in 8x02 but Jon spends a lot of it trying to avoid D-ny until the last moment

8x02 Arya and D-ny find out Gendry’s and Jon’s parentages. It makes no difference to Arya, she loved Gendry when he was a barmaid’s bastard and she loves him when he’s a king’s son. Jon’s  bio father shatters D-ny’s whole world.

Most of Jon’s family (this includes Sam) distrust and fear D-ny. Jon and Sandor like Gendry and Sansa and Bran have no complaints at least.

Their ~love scenes~ have a few shots that mirror each other, too.  But we see the buildup for Arya and Gendry, their conversation, their first kiss, undressing each other. We see Jon and D-ny and in the middle of things, during a montage explaining how they’re closely related and narrated by Jon’s little brother. Not exactly sexy. Then it cuts to Tyrion lurking nearby looking troubled and finally ends with an ominous shot of the Targ flagship in the dark and gloom. Meanwhile, Arya and Gendry are alone, not related, and are the sole focus of the scene. There’s not even music.

In 8x04, at the funeral, Gendry and Arya are initially a good distance apart. Then after they light the pyres, you get a shot of Arya with (an admittedly very blurry) Gendry visible over her shoulder. Meanwhile, Jon and D-ny stand together while lighting the fire and then they part.  

Gendry’s “I love you” to Arya is enthusiastic and happy and D-ny’s to Jon is coming from a place of mourning at best and it’s straight up manipulative at worst.  The words “I love you” are rare in this show. I can only remember Jorah saying it a couple of times, Littlefinger to Cat and Sansa, Joffrey pledging to wed Margaery, and Robb to Talisa. The only times it’s not sad or creepy are Robb and Gendry.

These two scenes are the most glaringly obvious. But to summarize, Arya tries to set Gendry “free” when his life changes in a direction she doesn’t want for herself and D-ny tries to put Jon into a corner and make sure his life CAN’T change into one that she doesn’t want. 

So with that stuff in mind, I could buy that maybe they wanted Arya and Gendry to reunite in King’s Landing and try to save civilians together.  Or maybe have Jon ask Gendry to take Arya as far away as he can before Jon goes to that throne room to do what he has to do. Hell, look at Arya’s final scene as is: She’s on a ship and then you see her Stark sigil on the sail against the sunlight… If Gendry was with her, that’d sure look like a happier version of D-ny and Jon’s scene from the end of season 7…   While probably a bit too on the nose for GRRM’s books, I could see the show implying that Gendry and Arya are the second, more hopeful verse of the Song of Ice and Fire…

Other Season 8 Subtext-y things:

Marriage imagery; Arya under Gendry’s cloak. Bonus points for it being shown during these lines from Jenny’s song: “spun away all her sorrow and pain/and she never wanted to leave.”  “She spun away and said to him, ‘no featherbed for me.’”

Pretty much all of Gendry’s scenes in season 8 are with Arya or he’s with Sandor, talking about her. The small handful of times he’s not with either of them, he’s with her siblings and other people connected to House Stark like Tormund and Davos and even Sam and Edd.  After their “breakup” he virtually disappears. Pretty much the ENTIRE reason they brought him back was for Arya and to be tied strongly to House Stark.

Beric and Melissandre, who once wanted to sacrifice Gendry for “the greater good” and caused Arya to turn towards a darker path, sacrifice themselves to defeat the dead, not only saving Arya’s and Gendry’s lives but guiding Arya further into “light.” To the point where she literally ends the Long Night.

Gendry tells Arya that she’s beautiful and he loves her and gets down on one knee to ask her to marry him… Which is so wildly uncharacteristic for this show that I still can’t believe that it’s real. It’s by far the most traditional romantic moment in the entire series.  I suppose it could just be fan service, but 8x02 would have sufficed on that front. Not to mention that “fan service” in this show has never been something so wholesome.  

They could have done the proposal differently. They could have had Gendry say crap like, “Now we can settle down and live a boring, respectable life” or something else that would have been really unappealing to Arya. It actually would have been another connection to Robert/Lyanna, where Robert only loved his idea of Lyanna. But nope. They could have framed it as Gendry trying to do the honorable thing or “they’re gonna marry us off anyway, at least we like each other.” But nope.

Gendry could have been put off by Arya’s combat skills but he was turned on by it. She even used her “game of faces” voice on him and it didn’t send him running for the hills.

They also could have easily had Gendry be too “tame” for Arya but nope.  Her face at this part just kills me.

They made a thing out of Gendry being “forever loyal” to D-ny after she legitimized him but he had jack shit to say about her at the Great Council and was all too happy to vote for King Bran, even after Arya had turned him down.

A follow up to that other post in regards to a Gendry-ish looking guy grabbing Arya and asking if she’s seen his wife, Alanna: Magaery’s cousin with the same sounding name gets a GRRM-esque weird spelling: Allana with two Ls and one N. As opposed to the more traditional spelling that looks more like Lyanna….

One of the surviving lords at the Great Council is specifically from the Storm Lands. He’s probably who has had Storm’s End for the last few years and maybe he doesn’t deserve to get kicked out by a boy who doesn’t have any idea how to be a lord and doesn’t even want to be a lord without Arya.  He even has a name: Lord Une.  The Dornish prince doesn’t have a first name but this guy does?

Also, Une is a very unusual name. It’s not from the books and it doesn’t really sound Medieval Europe-y, either. Maybe there’s an inside joke or something? That’s definitely not a name you just pull from the air.  

Arya lights Beric’s funeral pyre but if Sandor didn’t have issues with fire, I think he probably would have done it as Beric’s last surviving friend. It kind of gives us the sense that Arya can do what Sandor can’t—which of course, she ultimately does when she decides to leave Cersei while Sandor, who has missed so much being hurt and angry, can only have peace/forgive himself is if he stops Gregor forever. 

In the very next scene after the funeral, we see Gendry and Sandor talk about Arya. Sandor basically says that normal, living people have emotions and hormones and it’s not a bad thing.  Sometime later, we see Sandor scare off a girl who makes a pass at him. The next scene is Gendry and Arya. Arya also ‘rejects’ her love interest but it’s in an infinitely more thoughtful way. We already know that it’s easier for Arya to be close to other people than it was for Sandor. Arya just has a little bit more to go until she’s completely ready for something serious.  

Episodes 1 and 2 establish a pattern of “Sandor then Gendry.” It’s how they arrive at Winterfell. It’s how they reunite with Arya. It’s how Arya visits them towards the end of 8x02. Sooo again, I could see at one point the intention was for them to reunite in King’s Landing. Possibly during that bit where it keeps cutting back and forth between Sandor and Arya; “hateful” Gregor grabs Sandor up to throw him around and “loving” Gendry lifts Arya to save her from getting trampled. Nora, the name of the kind stranger who does help Arya, is essentially the “female equivalent” of Gendry’s name.    

According to the leaked outline of season 7, Gendry was originally supposed to be rescued by Benjen beyond the wall. In season 8, he has scenes with Jon, Sansa, and Bran, and even Edmure and Robin. ALMOST LIKE THEY WANTED HIM TO MEET *ALL* OF ARYA’S FAMILY. I’m pretty sure only Tyrion has met more Starks and Tullys than Gendry.

The “Ice battle” was at Arya’s childhood home and the “Fire battle” was at Gendry’s. And yeah, I think it’s pretty damn weird that a capable, uninjured soldier who has knowledge of King’s Landing isn’t there.

They gave them a reference to The Princess Bride: “As you wish.” Comparing them to a beloved couple from a modern classic is a good sign. Comparing them to most likely a childhood favorite? Even better. Comparing them to a couple where their other famous line is “Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a little while.” And Arya and Gendry are still alive.  Actually, it might be a coincidence but they do have a SHIT-TON in common with The Princess Bride. GRRM is a fan, too, so maybe it was discussed at some point. It’s certainly uncanny if it wasn’t at least partially intentional. But that’s a different post.  

Sandor knows about Gendry and Arya and he doesn’t rip Gendry’s head off. Gendry basically got a blessing from Arya’s last legal guardian.

Their outfits reflect each other’s houses, Gendry’s clothes having some very Stark direwolf-like scratch marks and Arya’s scabbard is yellow and black aka Baratheon colors.

I haven’t listened to it yet, but apparently in the leaked audio commentary for 8x06, they talked about how Joe wanted Arya to notice how hot Gendry looked.

Other stuff that makes me think that the writers like Gendrya:

They gave them a lot of time and focus. Even in season 8 where they had very limited time. And objectively speaking, that time probably should have been spent with Arya and her siblings.

They had Arya befriend Gendry earlier and easier than she does in the books.

In behind the episode of 8x02, Benioff talked about how you choose to spend your last night on earth says a lot about you. The very first example he gives is Arya wanting to be with Gendry.

They are always depicted positively:  They trust each other; they respect each other; they make each other laugh; they protect each other.  Even during their “breakups” in season 3 and 8; they are honest and accepting of each other’s decisions.  These two are young and inexperienced but they manage to be more mature and healthier than 95% of the other couples.  Their relationship also doesn’t doom them the way that Robb and Talisa’s did.

They changed stuff from the books to make it– not more romantic per se given Arya’s age– but certainly shipping fuel that fit more into romantic tropes: How they meet, how Gendry discovers that she’s a girl, how Arya blatantly checks him out when he’s shirtless. Their long one-on-one and emotional “goodbye” scene where Arya says, “I can be your family.”

They changed/added lines to foreshadow “My Featherbed,” aka where Gendry is legitimized but gives it up for Arya: “I have a son, you have a daughter. We’ll join our houses” but leaving out how Robert specified Joffrey and Sansa. Changing “you’ll marry a king” and “no, that’s Sansa” to “you’ll marry a high lord” and “no, that’s not me.”  Davos telling Gendry how he became a lord to help his son and it actually got Mathos killed in battle.

The main bullet points of season 8 were largely what I was expecting and I was at least in the ballpark about a lot of the details. Like did I predict King Bran? No, but I knew he belonged in the south because he named his direwolf Summer. I knew the king or queen would be a dark horse and I was fairly certain Tyrion would be Hand. The few things I didn’t anticipate still seemed to validate the main themes and messages I thought that GRRM was going for. Like King Bran. Now I can’t believe I didn’t see it. Who better to “end the game of thrones” than someone who doesn’t want to play and also can’t be plotted against?

Gendrya is the one major thing that tripped me up. Seriously. I would have bet my fucking car that if Gendry didn’t die, he’d walk away from a lordship and be with Arya on her ship, even if the nature of their relationship was ambiguous.  

So I could believe that they wanted or at least expected Gendrya to be endgame since season 1 and someone told them no. It could have been GRRM but I must admit that I have a difficult time believing that.

I guess I could see GRRM having the point of their relationship be that Arya is upfront and honest about what she wants and Gendry respects her decision and doesn’t turn into a bitter/mopey drunk. Or that Gendry dies and Arya doesn’t wallow in it forever… But there’s so much that makes me think that Gendry is meant to be the “sweet” part of Arya’s bittersweet ending, and at least be her True Companion.  Not to mention they’re still too young to really have a relationship in the books. Well, at least Arya is. And those particular parallels to Robert and Lyanna fall pretty flat in my opinion if they’re not romantically involved.   I mean, come ON. How the hell could it NOT end with the possibility of Lyanna’s niece/ Jon’s sister and Robert’s son/D-ny+Rags cousin???

Possible HBO Shenanigans:  

I thought it was kinda funny that HBO UK–not Game of Thrones but an official HBO account– made a tweet shortly before 8x02 aired implying that Arya is eighteen… when she’s more likely sixteen (lots of reasons, not to mention that Maisie has even said that Arya is sixteen.) And sixteen is the age of consent in the UK anyway.  As far as I know, that was the only public attempt by HBO to quell controversy in an already hugely controversial season. Like, after The Bells, I don’t think anyone at HBO tweeted about “Ideally, good rulers don’t commit 2.5 times the amount of war crimes as the Night King.” So I do have to wonder if there’s a reason that they’re particularly invested and protective about Arya’s reception…

There was a huge shitstorm when Tommen and Margaery got married and pretty much most of that stuff was off screen.  Sure, Arya’s a bit older and Maisie was in her 20s while Dean-Charles was still in his teens… but people do tend to get much more outraged when it’s a girl with an older guy than vice versa.

There was also a big shakeup when AT&T acquired HBO and they got a new CEO early in 2019, a couple of months before season 8 aired. The former CEO seemed to have been championing Bloodmoon, that prequel that got canceled recently. He might have been pulling more for a potential Arya show back when the season was still being written… the new people at AT&T also seemed extremely upset over what the budgets for GoT and Big Little Lies did for their bottom line.  

While HBO has stated emphatically that there are no current plans for an Arya spinoff, they were sure to tack on a “right now, a sequel […] doesn’t make sense for us.” I do believe that this is something they want to have in their back pocket.  There’s a lot of interest in the idea and if House of the Dragon does well, I won’t be shocked if five+ years down the line we get at least a movie or a limited series about Arya. It’s by far the easiest, since her character can be isolated from everyone else and there are tons of cool places to explore. Hell, if they were really desperate, they wouldn’t even need Maisie Williams to come back. They could just recast and say she’s wearing someone else’s face to hide from mercenaries or something.  

GRRM gave an interview talking about how certain characters who have “a high Q rating” (popular) get pushed into more screen time. Bronn is almost certainly one of those characters. He’s always been a self-serving asshole, but the things that made him feel more like an affable rascal—his funny lines, his genuine and open fondness for Podrick—are all but gone in season 8. Not to mention that there’s the implied possibility he’s dying from some “pox.” In the outline for season 7, he’s much closer to “Season 8 Bronn.” Like, he was the one who was originally going to ask Jaime about Widow’s Wail and call Joffrey a “See-You-Next-Tuesday.” When Olenna said it, it was pretty funny. But coming from Bronn, it was a real dick move. I could believe that their “treatment” of Bronn in season 8 was a bit of a middle finger to him. The same way I could perceive Gendrya’s portrayal as being a “fuck you” if they weren’t allowed to actually be endgame.

TL;DR: Gendry and Arya are one of the very few healthy couples in the entire series,  and it could be argued that they even get “special” treatment. Both of them lived and while Arya certainly has been traumatized, she is not a walking dumpster fire who wouldn’t be good for him. It would have been only too easy for them to be portrayed as incompatible or worse but they weren’t. Their breakup is over a virtual nonissue. So it’s not out of the range possibility that they were a victim of executive meddling.  

And please spare me any “bUt D&D aRe ToO STuPId tO dO tHis.” I’m not campaigning for them to win Pulitzers any time soon, but the notion that they’re complete nitwits is just silly. They both have M.F.A.s  from very good schools and their scripts/outlines that I’ve read have a lot of really clever and really well-thought-out references, ranging from history to poetry to literature to even The Rolling Stones.  

I’m not saying that they intentionally did all this stuff but they certainly could have if they wanted to.

[monkey-network]

to Defend Desti’s Death

I’m not particularly one to make major response posts like these, but I feel these thoughts I’ve had have simmered for quite a while now and I just wanted to get this off my chest. To some that may know, I’m a fan of the Anime Arc cuz honestly, it was fun and hype to sit through. On the look back, it still is, even with the noticeable drawbacks. But I won’t deny that the moment we fans know is divisive is one for a reason. For some, it was bad and other say it was good but frankly I haven’t seen many properly explain why. Which is where I want to come in momentarily, give my two cents on why Desti’s passing worked on an objective level.

Initially, and I hate doing this, but I gotta respond to the most notable saying of why it doesn’t work. So link here for the argument: https://todpolle.tumblr.com/post/185301760988/meme-gene-scene-how-to-kill-a-life. And I only wish to say, no hard feelings @todpolle. I’ll get to the main argument in a moment but I wanted to discuss the setup point where it revolves around the deaths of Avocato from Final Space and Gamma from Sonic Adventure. 

Now truly, I remember these passing moments fondly but I feel that comparing them to Desti’s death is noticeably unfair if we wanna talk contextually. Like if we’re taking both series to its full context, Final Space has the disadvantage where it resurrected Avocato while SMG4 kept Desti dead; the resurrection not only undercutting the weight of the initial departure but having not as much weight as before. Much as I like Avocato, having a “No One’s Ever Really Gone” approach to Final Space kinda devalued the idea that death is permanent for Gary and his friend, if only for a moment. If Desti’s resurrected later on, I’ll eat that crow, but that is doubtful. Though, if we take season 2 out the equation, it’s fair to say both deaths have their considered impacts with who it affects especially. 

I’ll express that a little later, but I want to move over to Gamma’s death where, and I hate to say this, it’s an unfair comparison all around cuz Gamma’s story doesn’t have the same set pieces as Desti’s because contextually his death was understandably sacrificial, he willingly self-destruct after knowing his true identity. Heck, you can’t even stack Gamma’s with Avocato’s because his heroic death meant something far different than the other two. Nah, I say the death reminiscent to Desti’s the most is with Aeris’ of Final Fantasy VII. But, I think it’s fair to first point out what this counter purposefully omitted: Desti’s character.

Now it would stand to believe the most we see of Desti aside the anime arc is “If Mario was in Splatoon 2”. But to say that is all to her character is being ignorant towards her character because the anime arc furthers expressed who Desti was as a character. She was prideful, no-nonsense, loves being a step of Meggy even when it means playing unfair. She was basically Meggy put to a logical extreme. In “Splatoon 2″, “Meggy’s Bootcamp”, and “Mario Showdown”, we see that seed of how much Meggy means to her as a rival and how focused she can be when it came to their rivalry, considering her the biggest threat in the Splatfest games. These traits are expanded in “The Splatfest Incident” where she is willing to her pride aside for a moment to help the gang find Meggy when she goes missing. The search for Meggy doesn’t throw away her hot-headedness and pride however, as we see in “The Inkling Disappearances” and “Mario and the Experiment” that she is more than willing to throw down regardless of what stands in her way, even to where she’s making her and Meggy’s escape into a challenge. 

More importantly, we get to see a soft side of her where she isn’t fully aloof and tries to be there for her team, or those she come to find as close as she gets. You get to see her bond with someone she wants to fight free and true to form. I say the writers did their job in giving us reason to stand with Desti, make us like her beyond being the Negachin. She’s much the better half to Meggy, the Zero of Megaman X, the being our main inkling girl strives to be in the right way. Now, I wanna talk about Aeris.

Aeris was a very cool character in my eye when playing FFVII. She’s not Tifa but she still had a badass charm to her, especially in the part where she and Cloud go a rescue/date to infiltrate a brothel that held Tifa hostage by helping Cloud disguise as a woman. It slows the game down in a good way, giving us some time to know Aeris. Like Cloud, you get to feel just as attached to her, in both the story and gameplay where she is a boss when it comes to magic. She shows herself as the one that helps Cloud shed his initial machismo and is a very considerate friend while they’re on the journey to escape Midgar. She certainly has more of a character than what most of the images on Google would make you believe. I’d say like with Aeris, the anime arc subtly make you invested in Desti. And like Desti, it happens...

Now I can say, yeah, this shouldn’t make sense. But really, as much sense as I wanted to wrap my brain around why this shouldn’t have happen, this emotionally got me every time. I say what makes this work, what makes Desti’s death worked, comparative to the previous mentioned, is how it worked it’s way both before and after the moment. For Aeris, you can feel the weight of her loss in our main characters in the story and in the gameplay where with her gone, it’s pretty hard to fill the void of what she excelled at. Put that with what we got to see of her which makes the loss all the more shocking. Which makes Cloud avenging her with his final conquering over Sephiroth all the more cathartic. Now I’m not saying Desti’s death had as much intentional thematic development as Aeris’s, but when you take into account how it is structurally, especially the aftermath, the oomph of it all feels just as real, feels respectfully impactful for what it did.

But before I get to my main point, I wanted to address another point against this case where “SMG4 was supposed to just be a comedy like Spongebob and such, this totally goes against that tonally.” Which, I don’t know what else to say beyond “Did we watch the same show?” I can understand not liking the 2nd half of the anime arc writing wise, but it’s not like the arc turned everything into a whole different show all together. We weren’t getting some Heavy Rain type melodrama shit, the tone of the 2nd half was clear, the objectives were there. It wasn’t that heavy-handed, it wasn’t that serious, they didn’t sacrifice the comedy all together for some oscar-bait Gotham brooding bullshit. A dumbass Monkey like myself could understand the direction the bros were going with that arc, regardless of whether I liked it or not. It is pretty myopic to think a series like this can’t and shouldn’t be anything else beyond a skinner box type comedy, because god forbid experimenting with the stories in lieu committing to a considerable routine most of your career to keep a certain mindset happy and buttfucking numb. *sigh* I apologize. To carry on...

I’ve talked about this before, so if you want here’s a link about the funeral scene of the arc’s final episode (quick read), but I wanna say that with Desti’s passing, they treat it with respect. They have their couple of jokes, but they don’t treat it like a joke; Desti's death would’ve been a lot more insulting to me if they didn’t take it as seriously. It showed that yeah, that shit hurt, it was not expected, and we’re with the gang as we see Meggy and them send her off, guns out. We’re with the characters where all that happens and it felt... organic. Like I said before, Desti was “someone who appeared to be distant and feisty but still had a heart. Someone who was among people that [grew to] care about her, in life and death.” Whether we consider it was for shock or not, she made her impact, it hit hard in the end, and they made the moment matter in the respective time.

And like Final Space, this affected the likes of Meggy the most, a character that had the most connection to Desti than the others, all while the others respect her grieving and trauma that came with it. Moments like “Something’s Up With Meggy” and “Mario Does the Chores” show that that stuck with her for real, and they don’t treat like some sick running gag. SMG4 mentions it not long afterward but respectably knew not to dwell on it for the rest of the year until “The Grand Festival” where it comes back as a soft, yet optimistic reminder.

Now I won’t say you can’t have your issue with the arc, I have my issues with it. But to say Desti’s death was crap was to objectively ignore the effort they put into making it a solid plot point, a solid heel turn for both Desti and Meggy. To ignore that they gave us a good character to basically just feel mad that they pulled the rug from under you. And I would’ve been mad too if killing her off was done poorly, but it wasn’t. The bros didn’t make a whole masterpiece, but they did what they set out to do and I say they pulled it off well for what it was. For who Desti was.

[evanstanbot]

tbh i don't get why you stucky just started your disappointment NOW, since his character writing already deteriorate in civil war. what you said about steve, "move on, fight the good fight, never give up on anyone" is gone already - he's written as a man who indulge in his past, which is totally okay. y'll don't complain about it in civil war only because it centers your fav boy and fav ship, but when he went to another his past - Peggy y'll get FURIOUS. Isn't that double standard?

Listen anon you sent me a hate message, but I’ve got time. Now sit back while I go into details. fyi, this is gonna be LONG. Anything for my Steve. I didn’t survive and throw hands at people in 2016 too to see this bs lol. I didn’t think I’d see the CW discourse in 2019 but here we are…

First of all, I’ll need you to understand that in storytelling (or in this case a character’s narrative), the character’s personal feelings (faith, love, hate, etc.) and said character’s moral rights are NOT mutually exclusive… because even in real life, we all have to balance out our personal feelings and what’s plausible. We have to find the balance between following our heart and following our brain.


But, we’re talking about heroes here—they’re obliged to do the morally correct thing. However, good writing and a good character comes about when the character can balance out these traits (feelings and thoughts), just like we do in real life, and still end up doing the right thing. Sometimes it’s perfectly balanced: half-and-half. But, it doesn’t always have to be like that; it just has to balanced in some manner. These heroes are people we’re supposed to look up to and seeing them battle against their feelings and still choose the morally correct thing is what makes a hero a hero.


Let’s list a few examples throughout Steve’s arcs, shall we? under the cut..

CA:TFA

*

* Steve initially set out to walk to Austria in order to save Bucky, his best friend, even though he wasn’t sure if Bucky was alive or not. That’s when his feelings and morals come in play. He chose his feelings, first. But, that’s okay. He’s still developing. But then, he checked in with Pegs to see if he was right. “You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?”

* When Bucky “died,” his morals were bounded by guilt. That’s when Peggy came in to warn him to be a person of reason (at that moment, especially), to tell him to move on, and that they have a war to win. And so, he did. Yet, he chose both his feelings and his morals here. “I don’t wanna kill anyone” became “I won’t stop until all of HYDRA are killed or captured.” His morals are still right, but his feelings of guilt and anger encouraged them. feelings and morals, balanced. 

CA:TWS

* He told to Pegs that half the reason why he’s working with SHIELD is because she built it. You see the “half” there? Half of the reason is because of his faith and respect for Peggy; the other half is because it’s the right thing to do; SHIELD was helping people… (or so he thought of course). perfectly balanced.

* Then, he took down shield. It broke him when he found out about Bucky being brainwashed and turning into The Winter Soldier. He probably wanted to kill all of HYDRA again for hurting his friend. But, once more, he did the right thing. Steve could’ve just found and taken down HYDRA and ignore the infestation of SHIELD. He could’ve gotten Bucky back that way and been done with it, but he knew better. “How many paid the price?… SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes.” That’s why TWS Steve is the best Steve. It shows that he’s a tactician: he observed and observed and observed throughout the film. He saw what was happening around him and made a decision based on that (his brain, his logic). And that decision combined with his own feelings (his heart) about Bucky made for the deadly destruction of SHIELD. “The price of freedom is high. It always has been, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay. And if I’m the only one, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.” He did what’s right, but also let his own feelings take over and have a say. (Read: He couldn’t hurt Bucky.) He stopped Bucky until he completed his mission, but after that, he dropped his shield for him; he let his heart take over once his morals were satisfied. still balanced.

CA:CW

* First, the accords. Steve, from the beginning, NEVER agreed to the accords—far before Bucky came into the picture. There. I said it. When Ross was talking about the accords, Steve knew he couldn’t trust them. He was let down by the government twice already. He set his mind on not signing it right then and there. Then, after the funeral, Nat came up to confront him about his decision and he still stuck by it. Notice that he was encouraged by Sharon’s speech (my fav Steve quote given to Pegs and then delivered by Sharon… anyway moving on). Steve made his choice based on his own morals and stuck with it. (By the way, he moved on from Pegs here.)

* Next, Bucky comes into play; and, Steve went on to protect his friend. Remember when he almost signed the accords because of Bucky? (Tony’s bargain was that he would make sure Bucky would not be turned over to the Wakandans.) Steve was tempted, yes, but when he heard about what Tony did to Wanda, he got proof that that the accords were wrong. He wanted to help Bucky badly, but in the end he kept those particular personal feelings from affecting his morals-based choice; he used his feelings of anger towards Wanda being trapped instead. “If I see a situation pointed south, I can’t ignore it. Sometimes I wish I could.” again, balanced.

* If you look at airport scene, you’d see how Steve was only talking about the other winter soldiers. Of course he’d his best friend, but he didn’t let his selfishness and feelings take over. He’s also doing this because it’s the right thing to do. To stop Zemo (the real villain here, by the way) and the other winter soldiers before they cause harm to the public. He’s fighting the good fight.

* Him not telling Tony about Bucky… This was because he knew Bucky was going to get hurt or even worse, killed, if he did. He considered the consequences and here he chose his feelings. He knew it wasn’t right, so he apologized to Tony via the letter. He paid the price for choosing his friend and following his feelings for this one; he became a fugitive. (Yet, remember that he rescued the avengers who were thrown in jail and kept on avenging secretly.) He’s still morally correct in the end.

* Remember when he whole-heartedly believed that Bucky did not bomb the UN? It’s because his faith is in people, not in systems or rules—he learned this the hard way in CATWS. He knew Bucky pulled him out of the river; and, his feelings came into play. But, he still checked out the facts with Sam and Sharon. And he was right: Bucky didn’t do it.

A:IW

* There wasn’t much Steve to begin with; however, I just want to point out that he’s still helping the avengers, protecting them despite the conflict. He went to the avengers compound (even though he wasn’t in good terms with the government) because they needed help (the earth was under attack and Tony was gone). but most importantly, because they are also his family. he has a life here.

And then, A:Endgame did that.

* I’m not saying Steve would never consider that life… I’m just saying that he would never choose to go back if he had the chance because he knows how to balance his feelings and moral compass. Our Steve would deal with his own trauma instead of running off to a better place (or so he thought it was a better place).

* Adding up the time travel logic, he can’t change the past. He’s creating another timeline—meaning… those people are not his people. Also, what would he say to them? Would he lie? Steve “I’m always honest” Rogers would never be able to live a life constructed by a web of lies. He certainly wouldn’t steal another Steve’s life. He considers the moral aspects of everything he does, not just his feelings. Creating another timeline just because he wanted to have a supposedly good life isn’t that.

* Adding another time travel theory (thanks markus), Steve staying in the shadow while hydra was infiltrating shield? While Bucky was being tortured? it’s bs okay. a joke. there’s no way Steve Rogers is gonna sit there and do nothing. If you want receipts, reread this post. Pick up any Captain America comics.

* Also, “He earned that” is such a problematic take. He didn’t do all this for a prize. He did all this because he is a hero… because he is someone who never gives up. and most importantly, because he cares.

Steve’s arc is NOT about indulging in the past. It’s about still connecting to the past, while adapting to the future. Times changed but the problems are still the same. Making a better future—that’s what he does and what he strives for.


And that’s why we’re angry. I hope it sums up. It’s long, but it’s worth it. You can call me whatever names you like; it doesn’t matter. I know my value. I was angry at first, but you made me realize why Steve is my hero and the one I’ve always believed in. In conclusion, endgame!Steve is #NotMySteve. My Steve will always come back… do the right things, as he always does and always will.

[witchqueenofthemoon]

BODY AND SOUL Part 31 (Duncan Shepherd/Mackenzie Stone Millory AU)

Author’s Note: At this point I’m done with this fic besides the epilogue, which I’m going to write when I get back from this trip I go on starting tomorrow (Wednesday) through Sunday night; I’ll still try to get at least 32 up at some point over the next few days. A reminder that this is Kenzie’s dress in this part. Here’s the shirt Duncan’s wearing in the first part; this is the chevron shirt he’s wearing at Madeline’s later. Here’s Clair de Lune; had to put it in this story somewhere, it’s one of my favorite songs of all time (I want it played at my funeral, fun fact). Here is Chopin’s Nocturne. Not totally clear on what Frederick used to be for the Goddess in conjunction to his dream; but I know all seers (him, Rosemary) were her counselors in that heavenly place long ago. A reminder that I kiiiinda based the garden house property on this listing. Here’s the Medusa earrings Annette gives Madeline. Here’s the dress Annette is wearing at Madeline’s. This is Claire’s top at Madeline’s. A reminder that I based Kenzie’s ring on this one, but Kenzie’s has diamonds all around the moonstone. Duncan’s new driver Barry is based on B.D. Wong/Baldwin. GO YOUR OWN WAY does indeed cede into the achingly romantic SONGBIRD on the Fleetwood Mac album RUMOURS. I went with the natural cadence of the amount Duckenzie seemed to want me to write, as I have for the entirety of this fic; sometimes they give me lots of details, other times they give me the larger gist of things. I loved finally writing Madeline and Annette together; I always knew it would be when both their hearts have softened, I just didn’t know exactly when that was happening, but Duckenzie revealed things to me in time, as they always do. I’ll elaborate on this more at the end, but this fic has changed my life forever, and that is not hyperbole--I don’t know how quickly or easily I’ll finish the epilogue, because I’m going to be going through intense personal stuff very soon. In the meantime, enjoy this chapter, which is a pure delight, an oasis of sheer enjoyment. Editing it helped me escape from everything for a little while, hope it does that for you to if you need it. 

In the morning, when Duncan woke, Kenzie had been watching him from the edge of the bed with wide, concentrated eyes. She was wearing a black, short-sleeved flowing dress, with a dipping neck, a rippling hem that cascaded over her crooked leg, and bronzey buckles at her waist. She was eating granola with milk and raspberries in one of Adelaide’s silver dogberry bowls in her lap, her fingers curled around one of Adelaide’s silver spoons. Her strawberry-honey hair was hovering in a shaft of sunlight; his heart thumped  into his mouth to see that she was wearing the golden star-point headband in it, the one she’d worn so many nights ago, that first moment he saw on her a quiet rosy balcony. The black triple moon necklace was hanging in the white crook of her throat. High Princess, wherefore art thou mine.

“Spooky, baby,” he’d whispered, blinking at her. “What’cha looking at?”

“Sorry,” and she laughed a little, snorting down at the bowl. You just looked so lovely, my Endymion, drifted to him on a golden wisp of thought. She lifted another spoonful into her mouth, a raspberry in the center disappearing between her little lips, pink with moisture, the Cartier bracelet falling down her wrist. He stretched a hand towards her, full of need, letting a sleepy whine escape and fall against her. Kenzie slid down to him, her sweet smell crashing over him. He kissed her arm, the crook of her elbow, sighing in relief.

“I gotta go soon, baby,” she whispered. “I have to go talk to Candice about everything. Resigning. Starting my book. How we’re gonna buy the Post, now that the company is yours--but it’ll be hers to do whatever she wants with. I wanna give her full executive powers over it. It’s one of the ways we’re going to change things; with her help. I can feel it. Can you feel it? Like a current pulling us. It’s so strong now. When I woke up I felt like someone had dumped cold water on my face. Like I was really awake.”

Duncan felt a wave of her gold course against him; I feel it too. I see the shape of it. The shape of your knowing. And I believe in it, utterly. I trust you completely; I trust everything you feel; inside it is the clockwork, the rhythm of this world. I wonder how I ever overlooked it, High Princess. But now I see it. I see the hidden aspect of you. Your sweet, holy power. And your foresight to see what we need to do. I’m feeling that pull too.

“All that stuff we were saying to the reporters last night--that was being awake, wasn’t it?” He murmured, his voice heavy in sleep. Kenzie nodded.

“Yeah. It was Her...speaking through us, I guess you could say. Telling us and them what we need to do at the same time. Watch this, baby,” and Kenzie lifted a hand towards where his phone lay on the nightstand, and as his eyes glanced over to it, it zipped, as cleanly, quietly and neatly as a raindrop falling to earth, into her hand.

“Fuck,” he sighed. Art. The way she does it--uses it--it’s art. She is a work of art.

“I think I’ve got the hang of it. It’s about the telling. You tell the matter to move. Tell the air to pull it. You command it, with your will. Because you know you have...the right. You know you can do it, that the power was given to you for a purpose. That’s what it feels like.” She slid his phone into his hand, brushing against his fingers, her thoughts warm on his skin.

“That was so lovely, Kenz.” He lifted her little hand to his mouth; let his lips close over her fingertips, sucking gently. Your sweet little hands. Touch me.

“Unh, baby, stop that. Fuck,” and she sighed against him. He did not stop. He pulled her more insistently against him; let me taste you, flower of heaven.

Duncan Shepherd, we have shit to do. We have to save the world, remember? And don’t you have something important to pick up today?

Fuck, you’re right, Princess Kenzie. A moon, down from the sky, for you.

He kept his lips on her skin, lost in her softness, for another moment; drifted his fingers up the incline of her to the small space between her shoulders, marveling at her smallness, the delicate beauty of the shape of her, the curving wonder of her thighs, the dress pushed up. Last night he’d clutched her so close, his mouth against the dip of her throat, her head above his on the pillow--her arms so small, and yet so vast, so very much my home, the entirety of the universe therein. Every sunrise, every sunset, every ocean, every night of stars, every soft rain, every thing that has ever made me laugh or cry. All beauty. In her arms.

Kenzie leaned down, kissing him with a long, slow knowledge, her mouth sweet with almond, oat and fruit; Duncan saw a pale vision of drifting moons as she did, an echo of last night. So many moons; our story happening in so many ways, and yet so constantly. In so many worlds I have loved you. In so many worlds I love you now, beside this one, beside us, at this moment.

“Momby wants everyone to come over around 5,” Kenzie murmured, smiling. She pulled her hand away from his kisses, but he could see the green that had seeped into her gaze, the want there. “I’m so excited to see Claire, baby. So excited to tell her. To see her happy, too.” She hovered over him for a moment and Duncan leaned towards her from where he lay; turning his chin into her as she moved away, her loss a stab into the center of him. Don’t go, don’t go, sweet Princess. But she did; Kenzie drifted off the bed, her eyes dancing at him over her shoulder. Your happiness is the only thing I want in this world, Mackenzie Stone.

“I think I might start looking for the garden house today,” he said softly, eyes falling down her hair and the floating fabric of her dress, glancing to her silhouette in their Mirror. It shimmered; as is its way, he thought, a winking memory of our long past. How many times have we worshiped each other in front of it, the fibers of that strange sphere ingrained in its frame? How many times have I watched you in it this way, stunned by you?

“Send me everything, please?” Kenzie turned back to him, her eyes suddenly wet. “Anything you find. I want to see.”

Duncan sat up, pushing himself to the edge of the bed, ruffling his fingers through his hair, watching her, thoughtful. “I think I have a place in mind, actually--well, the idea of a place. But I want to make sure no one bought it yet before I show you. I can’t bear the thought of you loving it and not being able to have it. It was a place my grandmother took me once. An old place. Very old, and quiet, and secluded, and special. I think maybe it was one of those places, like the oak circle--” The Veil, he thought. That’s where we’ll make our home. That’s where we’ll settle into the sweetness of this life. In a place where our magick is strongest, brightest, and closest to Her. “--I mean, I think it was my destiny to go there, now that I know...about everything. About us. And about the in-between places.”

“I’m sure it was, Dunny,” she whispered in reply. She hovered there a few feet away--she dipped her head, looking down from his eyes, and the golden stars in her headband glinted, and he thought Star of Heaven, and heard her own thoughts, flowing against him: I love you too much, sometimes it almost hurts me to look at you, Evening Star.

Please look at me again, my sweet High Princess. I beg you. I’ll take your hurt away, give it to me. I’ll hold all of it for you if you’ll just look at me. He stared at her, hand trailing at his chin, along the prickle of there, contemplating the silken hair brushing her cheek, the fall of the dress against her, the bare rise of her legs, her delicate fingers holding the now-empty bowl, the low blush on her cheeks. Her eyes came up--he watched them skirt over the flowers above the headboard, still avoiding him. There were two bunches of roses now, one of peonies, one of the sacred wildflowers. I’ll get you so many more, baby, he thought, in agony to have her so close and yet out of reach. Enough to cover every wall in this penthouse. Enough to cover the floor and every space and every nook and every inch of this place. And your house--your garden house, your dream, my beloved--will be a shrine to your name alone. And there will be so many flowers there; we’ll make it the Garden of All Delights here on earth, the garden where your heart will always be safe. That place will belong to you, and I will be blessed to be held in it; held in your temple, at your flowery altar.

“Oh, Duncan,” she breathed, and the bowl fell out of her hands--it dropped, dully, on the carpet, and she was in his arms now, her cheek crushing against the bristle on him, her voice a lilting song in his ear. “This is what I’m going to write about, baby. About being loved so much--about being loved by you...”

“You’ve healed my soul, Kenzie--” his mouth shivered against her as she slid flush to him, straddling him, the fabric of her dress brushing into his naked crotch, the soothing weight of her breasts crushing into his chest, and she kissed him, open-mouthed, bleeding his words into intoxicated thought--saved me from the darkness. In that other world, I was lost to the void, and you saved me still. But here, in this place, in this halo of blessed light, you snatched me from the jaws of it before it could take me away from you, miraculously, and your gift is incalculable to me--your love so holy I could never worship you enough--

Her scent devoured him, and inside it, he melted into her; roses, vetiver, geranium. My Prince, I would do it a thousand times. I have. I will. Because I love you. And in the grace of this love, I am forever yours.

--------

Harris had arrived too soon--always too soon--with the entourage of escorts from the previous day. Duncan had watched Kenzie with badly-veiled concern as she stepped into her wedge heels--he’d hurriedly grasped the wrappings at her ankles, insistent to tie them--and she leaned down to kiss him, uncaring of their audience. Her smile and thoughts were calm, and he tried to share her peace of mind. You know better than I do.

Trust me, Duncan. Her eyes flashed with gold. Look for the secret place where we’ll build the garden house. It’s calling to us. I can feel it. I can’t see the shape of it, but you can. You’ll be the one to bring it to life. That’s your task--to will it into reality while we build this new world.

Yes, Kenzie. Yes. He felt the rightness in her words; the destined fiber of them. I can see the shape of it. You’re right. Like the outline of your hair in the sun; like your halo.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Mr. Shepherd, don’t worry so,” she whispered onto his bottom lip, and Duncan shut his eyes; sighed against her.

“I’ll have the moon for you when I see you again,” he replied. He could feel Harris’ eyes on them particularly; the other security were all looking away, seemed to be highly interested in literally anything besides the two of them, trained to be discreet above all else. But Harris’ face was bright with emotion, in spite of all his training; Duncan had glanced to him a moment go, noticed his face turned earthwards, a sincere smile of happiness playing at his mouth, his eyes floating up to their embrace, then away to try to hide his interest. Duncan thought of the reporter who had clutched Kenzie’s hand yesterday with tears in her eyes. Thank you for showing your love to all of us.

“Shall we go now, Miss Stone?” Harris seemed to know he needed to give them the cue to break apart, or it might never happen. Kenzie sighed against Duncan’s black, collared shirt for a long moment, fingers toying with one of the buttons. Duncan thought, wildly, of pulling her into the bedroom with him and slamming the door behind them, throwing her on their black bed in passionate abandon; fuck the world, he thought. I only want you.

But then she let go of him, and his heart ached for the moment she would return to his arms (wrapped against me, the rightness of you), and her little smile broke him into a thousand drifting pieces of blue and gray ash. Bring me your tribute when we meet again, beloved, her eyes spoke. You are exalted in my eyes. He shivered, stepping to the door behind her, the flowers for Candice now gathered in her little arms; he watched the fall of her hair, its sway as she walked ahead of the swarm of bodyguards now surrounding her, Harris directly behind her, his hand lifted protectively near her shoulder, hovering. The Young Royals, Duncan thought, and shivered again. Now, everyone sees her divinity, not just me. She’s the Queen of Roses in my heart--but she will always be the High Princess to all, and her power grows in this world with time. Rosemary called her a Supreme, whatever that means--The Supreme, golden beyond imagining. I think I sort of know what it means. Kenzie turned in the elevator, surrounded by black suits (gold in the darkness) and blew him an aching kiss (I count the hours until you return to me, Persephone), the moons at her neck shining in the warm lights, the flowers a bursting vision of color around her little face as the door slid shut, whisking her away.

It means she is the savior of humankind. And what did Rosemary call me? Her consort. She said if I bend myself to her, others will see and do the same. And so I am her adorer. That’s how I can repay what she has done for me; how I can thank her for saving me, for the light she’s given me. I’ll worship her all my days.

He thought again of the quiet, serene stretch of field Adelaide had taken him to as a child, her stories to him of exploring its long-dilapidated farmhouse as a little girl, playing among the wildflowers that grew inside, heedless to the danger of a fallen-down structure. There was such peace here, he remembered her saying as she held his hand, her elegant voice quiet in the cool dusk, a scarf wrapped around her slender chin, her eyes misty in the lavender-and-rose-tinted sunset. There still is. Duncan had been no more than a child himself when she took him there; they’d been having a day together, the way he used to with her, where they’d drive around rural Maryland to admire the scenery, away from the attentions of the city, and to buy fresh milk and butter and ice cream from her favorite dairy farm. Again he wished she could have met Kenzie; grandma, you would have loved her. You would have held her close to you and breathed in her scent and felt her gold and loved her so much. I wish you could be there on our wedding day--I wish you could somehow know that I’m going to have our house built on that special spot--that Thin Place--where you played as a little girl, among the flowers, reborn from the decay.

Duncan toyed with the Cartier bracelet on his wrist, his finger tracing the outline of the circles carved into it--he glanced across the kitchen to Kenzie’s plants at the window, their greenery scattered in sunlight. He moved to the dining room, going to the chest in the corner, rifling through its contents until he found a box of thin gold ribbons and another box of tiny, elegant white folding note cards with embossed gold Shepherd crests stamped on their surface, pulling one out. He went back to the island, his thoughts full of the sweet crook under Kenzie’s ear, the softness of her mouth, and tied the ribbons around the bunches of flowers that remained--one for Madeline, one for Claire, and one for the housekeepers who he knew would be arriving to do their quiet work in the penthouse in a few hours’ time. With a fountain pen he wrote in his neat, elegant handwriting on one of the notecards.

Dear Housekeepers,

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts for the impeccable work you do. It means everything to us. Please know that your hard work in this space never goes unnoticed. These flowers are a special token of our affection; as for our gratitude, please accept the incentive I’ve enclosed. It will be the first of many, and for its lateness, I apologize deeply.

Our sincerest thanks to you-- Duncan and Mackenzie Shepherd.

Mackenzie Shepherd. He felt dizzy with the pleasure of the way it looked. My wife. My partner in this life. My beloved.

Duncan went to his Ferragamo wallet and pulled out four crisp $100 bills; two each for the duo of housekeepers he knew frequented the penthouse, tucking them into the notecard. He knew there would be time to check on salaries in the company later, but for now, his heart was so full, he needed to start somewhere. Annette had long-ago purchased the penthouse on a whim, so technically all of its employees were beholden to Shepherd Unlimited. Well, the entirety of Shepherd Unlimited’s staff is getting a serious raise, he thought. Bill Shepherd, your reign is at an end.

Duncan arranged the flowers neatly on the island with the notecard, gathering the others into his arms to put them in a vase in the sink for now until Madeline’s party later tonight; despite not having been in water all night, though, they still looked as fresh as if Kenzie had just picked them. Then he slid the Givenchy sunglasses by the front door over his eyes and called the Shepherd family’s private car service. I guess it’s finally time for us to get a second driver, he thought with some disappointment. Would that we had two Samuels. He’d always liked calling his own cars via pick-up services, but as he knew well, the world had changed for them. Whatever happened with those pictures while we were away is very potent. In a way, we truly are royalty now. The trade-off to the change in everything is we are now charged with immense responsibility and a consuming lack of anonymity. We have a responsibility that extends over everything. Our magic is a blessing, but it’s also a task.

As Duncan made his way downstairs, his thoughts drifted back toward Kenzie. Mackenzie Shepherd. He thought of the way her name had looked as he wrote it; wanted to write it again and again like a love-struck high schooler in a notebook. My wife. My beautiful wife. My golden-haired, amber-voiced wife, gentle as summer rain. I can’t fucking stand it. I feel like I’m on fire, melting into the center of the sun. She said she would marry me. Kenzie said she would fucking marry me. That angel I saw on the balcony among the roses, moonlight in her hair, eyes turned to heaven. Persephone, under whose feet grow endless blossoms. Coming down to where I dwelt in shadows and kissing blue flowers into my eyes.

As Duncan passed Anchaly at the front desk, he noticed the man had put the flowers Kenzie had given him in a silvery vase on his desktop. He was still reading The New Adam and Eve, and this time the title struck Duncan queerly. That’s us, isn’t it. The new world. Anchaly glanced up at him, but said nothing, giving him a little nod, an omniscient smile playing around his friendly face. The flowers were stunningly bright and noticeable in the man-made opulence of the foyer; their organic beauty was staggering.

Among the cold wealth of Hades, Duncan thought, Persephone’s flowers bloomed through cracks of dark gold. But now my heart is that of Dionysus; my desire for beauty and joy is endless in her arms. So I’ll throw stars into the sky for her, my Ariadne; I’ll bring the moon down to adorn her.

--------

It was several hours later; Duncan was in the backseat of a Mercedes, another car of security behind him (god, that’s a new feeling, he’d thought on the way--The Young Royals, me and my six bodyguards), and his hands were shaking. He had set the little black velvet Tiffany box on the seat next to him, overwhelmed by it for a moment, needing to look away; Debussy’s Clair de Lune was drifting from the stereo. Fitting, he thought. An ode to the moon. And so therein my heart lies. His finger drifted over the ring box’s smooth surface, biting his lip. How I long to see you. Minutes feel like hours away from you. Hours feel like days. He nervously brought the box back into his lap, lifting the little lid, staring down into his lap, breathing in through his nose (1, 2, 3), out through his mouth (1, 2, 3) in a long, shaking sigh.

The ring inside was more beautiful than he’d dared to dream; looking at it again now, it was the most flawlessly exquisite piece of jewelry he’d ever seen. And it came from my own thoughts--my thoughts of her. Highest of all Princesses. He’d described it to the jewelers in a fever that he barely remembered; his mouth seemed to know how to describe it without him being fully conscious of himself, and here it was, somehow.

It was a moonstone; iridescent and creamy, as round as the face of the moon itself, its swirling depth akin to a sweet liquid made still. Around the perfect round stone were eight perfectly round, minute diamonds, framing it in a delicate, glittering nimbus. The band was pure rose gold, intricate and elegantly thin. It belongs on her hand, always. It was made especially for her, guided by the hand of the Goddess. I can feel it. In that far-flung place of cosmic wonder, She was the one who guided my thoughts to this. This lovely thing that will always be the symbol of my love for her in this life.

A half hour ago, sitting on a low velvet couch in a private showroom at Tiffany & Co., his breath had been instantly snatched away by it; if I was going to only see the ring in my dreams, I would have dreamt this exactly. I would not have hoped it could have ever been real. But now--life is no longer confined to reality, is it. Now, life is extraordinary, brimming with magic, purpose, and love. Now my life has turned to fortune far beyond anything I had before. Mackenzie Stone, light of my soul. To give this to you--a pure token of my love, made in the image of my thoughts of you, the image of your soul to me. I’m beside myself. And I’m going to do it with the people we love the most. He heard the ragged quality of his own breath, felt the painful reverberations of his own heart, soft piano in his ears, the image of her hazel eyes piercing his thoughts. This is what it is to feel alive. To be crushed by the weight of something--someone--so beautiful. To be moved by it, by her, endlessly--every fiber of my body, every hidden place in my soul, shaken by hers, her thoughts, her loveliness, her spirit of soft gold. He tried to rehearse his own words to her in the heat of the moment soon to come, but his mind was overcome, awash in the image of blue butterflies bursting into the sky, snow tinged with golden firelight. You and I. Me and you. What are words when there are the colors of our souls in each other’s minds this way. I know you’ve accepted me, but I’ll still ask you every day. Because every day is more precious than all the wealth in every world, so long as it’s with you.

When Duncan had pulled his Black AmEx from his wallet to give it to the jeweler, two wilting red rose petals had fallen from the side-pocket onto his thigh. He’d slid them into his palm, staring down at them, lost for a moment; from the roses in her hair--that night of the full moon, magic heavy in the air, and every force that tried to rend us failing utterly in the light of the higher wonder that is our love. How could I ever have doubted any of it? The surety of Destiny. The deepness of Fate. Everything I’ve ever done has led me to now; has led me to the halo of her perfect love, to my purpose; to do good with my fortune and spread this light to others, to love her with every part of my being that grows continually under her grace. It never grows smaller, and that’s the wonder of it; the more I love her, the more I feel her love, the more love we have to give to everyone and everything else--a wave that gathers more water, time after time, and then becomes an ocean of light.

A text chimed from Duncan’s phone, and he pulled it out of his pocket; it was the Shepherd family’s long-standing real estate agent.

Hamilton Realty: The land is available. Apparently it’s remained unsold for several decades now, despite its prime location and its vast acreage (16 to be exact). Very unusual. No word about haunted activity, which is usually the culprit for stuff like that, just seems to be chance. Your lucky day. I can head over there today and take some photos. Beautiful day for it. It’s truly a lovely piece of land. You could really do something extraordinary with it.

Oh, I plan to, Duncan thought, typing back a short reply of thanks.

And it’s not chance, he knew. It’s our destiny to have it. The way it was our destiny to find each other. The way it’s our destiny to always find each other; in every hidden place. To see each other, despite every shadow, every obstacle, every thing, minute or vast, that would attempt to stop us. Because as it was long ago, it’s our decision now to love each other. And in that decision, we have carved our own Fate out of the fabric of time, woven by her three sets of hands, being woven still, written and yet unwritten, told and yet still untold, the story of us endless and immovable and yet happening again and again and changed each time. Michael, Rosemary called me, lost to darkness. Mallory is what she called Kenzie; saving me by killing me, so we could start over, so I’d be reborn, so I’d be redeemed.

His finger trailed over the smoothness of the moonstone, watching the diamonds dance in the sun as the car traveled back to the penthouse, where he knew the otherworldly flowers waited for Madeline and Claire. The sun and the moon. Always together. The way you’re always with me, Kenzie, even if you are away from me. As I love you, so you are the constancy in every thing. The way you hold me in the dark. The tiny comfort of your fingers, your lips. I can’t wait to read what you write. I can’t wait for you to share your heart with the world. It has staggered me every day since I first beheld it. And they will be staggered by it, too. They will see all the sincerity of your radiant light. They will all see what has changed this world. The grace in your beloved heart. You.

His phone chimed.

Kenzie: Oh my goddess, baby. You should have seen Candice’s face when she saw those flowers, she almost burst into tears. I felt like she knew immediately how special they are. And when I told her what we’re doing with the Post!!!! We both cried but they were mostly happy tears. She’s sad I’m leaving though. I am too. I want to write one last piece for them. About our plan for Shepherd Unlimited. Candice is going to have it printed on a full page. And they’re going to print your interview alongside it. Both of us together.

Duncan typed. That’s perfect, baby. I love you so fucking much. Whatever you write is going to be exactly the right thing, I know it. Can I give the ring to you with everyone else there at Madeline’s? Is that okay? If you don’t think it’s perfect we can fix it. I just want everyone to fucking see. I just want everyone to be there.

He went to add more, but Kenzie replied immediately. Yes. I know, Dunny. I do too. You don’t need to explain. I know exactly what you mean. Everyone would love to see you give it to me, I think. I love you too. My Evening Star.

He couldn’t help it; maybe it’s selfish to want to show everyone our love this much, but...something tells me it isn’t. The way people react to us, as if we’ve given them something too, just by their witness--I want everything leading up to our wedding to be like that. If it’s a gift for people to see our love, if we can give them love in that way too, then we’ll show it to them whenever we can.

A reminder came up on his phone with a whistle and he glanced down at it. Ariadne at Sotheby’s next week. Starting bid is $25 million. See about withdraw prior to auction. He went into his phone, finding a contact. Frederick Stapleton. The phone rang twice, then he heard the small breath of the older man, imagined him leaning on the spindly silver cane as he bent over the phone.

“Duncan Shepherd,” Frederick breathed. Something in his voice made Duncan smile; he drifted a finger over the moonstone on his thigh again. “I trust you’ve been well. Word of your fortune has reached even me, an avoidant of all things technological.”

“Frederick. I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but...life is so beautiful.”

“As you say, Mr. Shepherd. How is the Mirror?”

As if it’s alive. In a way, he’s right. It is. It’s part of us; the living thing inside it is the reflection of our love in it, always. That Sphere that was lost, its dazzling fragments ingrained in it, reflecting us, reflecting a place beyond our reach, but real--out there, beyond the stars, the place where She resides.

“Perfect.”

“Just so.” Duncan could hear the smile in the other man’s voice, the knowledge. “To retain it for you was my privilege.”

Oh, goddess, Duncan thought, and knew. You have truly been its retainer, haven’t you. That was Her Will. You have been its protector for a long time. And you know that. You, like Rosemary, are a seer. And you always have been.

“Thank you, Frederick. For keeping it safe for us.”

Frederick was silent on the other end, and Duncan felt acutely that his silence was full of emotion--it washed over him like a shining, silvery rain.

“It has been my honor, Evening Star.”

Oh. Duncan’s voice shook as he spoke again.

“And her? The High Princess. Did you know? Frederick, did you know who she was right away?”

“Not in so many words. But I felt all of it, I’ve felt your coming for a long time, though I didn’t know it--and last night, I dreamt of the world beyond this one, where your love for each other lived in a perfect tandem, in line with the woven fabric of time…” The older man’s warm voice trailed off. “There’s nothing more I can say, Mr. Shepherd. I’m moved beyond words today.”

“That’s okay, Frederick. I understand. I really do. I have one more favor to ask of you.”

“Anything.” My Flaming Sword. Frederick didn’t say this, but Duncan felt it from him nonetheless, over miles, through the phone’s smooth surface. We called you that, once. In that place beyond time. And your glory was astounding to us. Your bravery, goodness and beauty beyond all description. Duncan’s heart pounded heavily in his ears. You were our Prince. As she was, and will always be, the Highest of all Princesses.

“Waterhouse’s Ariadne is going up for auction at Sotheby’s next week. I want it. It’s a birthday gift for her--for Mackenzie. The price is irrelevant. I’d like to put down an offer before it goes up--$30 million. If they want more, I agree to it. Whatever it is. There is no object.”

“Very good, Mr. Shepherd. I’ll contact you again after I speak to Linus over there. I know he’ll be pleased to hear you’re interested. How is The Youth of Bacchus, by the way? It’s been too long since last I laid eyes on it. Acquiring it for you is still one of my greatest achievements.”

“As colossally lovely as ever. She adores it. The way she stares at it would break your heart, Frederick.”

“I can only imagine. It is singular in its majesty. But all arts pale in comparison, I think, to what you share together. The greatness of it is beyond me. I feel that acutely.”

“You’ll meet her soon. I’ll bring her to see you, Frederick. I want to show her the peacock, she’s going to love it so much. She is the loveliest being on earth. We’re getting married--” Duncan’s voice hitched with tears.

“As you are meant to, of course. What a beautiful wedding that will be.”

“Expect an invitation.”

“All the blessings of Her Grace be on you, Prince Exultant.”

Duncan lowered the phone from his ear, knowing Frederick had hung up. Soft Chopin was drifting from the speaker now; Nocturne, its cascading piano an achingly gentle knife, sliding into his heart. This is you, Kenzie. Your hair. Your eyes. The softness of your skin. The soft drift of your little clothes. The shiver of tears on your cheeks. In every meticulous work of art, you. In every flowering field, every facet of wild nature, you. He contemplated the shape of the wedding ring soon to rest around the finger on his left hand. Nocturne drifted in his mind as he imagined, almost saw, there, could just see the shape of the rose gold band that he would wear there forever, the one he knew, acutely, that he’d be buried in in this life, when he died. And Kenzie’s will have a ring of tiny diamonds, he knew. Like our bracelets, mine in gold, hers in diamonds and gold. I can see them. I can see the moonstone and her diamond wedding ring together, the flash of them on her little hand as she tucks her hair behind her ear, leaning over her writing desk in our garden house, leaning down to her flowerbeds with a watering can.

For a moment, in the low sunlight of the afternoon, he felt another vision wash over him; one of them laughing at a long table covered in candles and peonies and tiny green succulents (oh, Kenzie)--he couldn’t see himself, but felt that his fingers were clutched over his eyes as tears leaked from them in his mirth. I’m laughing at Madeline, he thought. Madeline said something fucking funny, as is her way, and everyone is beside themselves. In the vision he saw Kenzie’s face, her little mouth open and teeth shining out as she laughed, one hand in a little fist clutched against her cheek, the other tightly twined through his between the golden-armed chairs they sat in, under some shadowed awning, the light low and precious. He could see the rings on their fingers he’d imagined moments before; saw that his was the gold he’d seen, with an angular, elegant framing, and hers, a thin band of tiny diamonds alongside the moonstone ring he now held in his lap in the Mercedes. He couldn’t see the shape of her dress, somehow--only the outline of the crown in her hair, a cascading veil falling from it with the glinting, delicately embroidered shapes of the cosmos in gossamer white--tiny stars, crescent moons, sunbursts. The crown was made of golden leaves, pale pink peonies and burgundy blushing rose buds, and around them glinted tiny rose and clear quartz points, catching in a light beyond his eyes as she dipped her honey-colored head, her laughter infinitely lovely to him. Duncan knew the scene was real--not a dream, no, a vision of the future. The knowledge made him press his fingertips against his chin, trailing his index finger along the rise of his bottom lip, lost inside it; lost in its unfading charm. Duncan felt a nostalgia; a melding of present, future, and past, and knew, inside his confusion, that it was Her, the Goddess. The Fates, showing him how eternal They were, how this moment, that seemed to be ahead of him, was in fact now, and also behind him, and also beside him.

In Her wisdom, time is meaningless. She made it; she can unmake it. The moment we are together, any moment, every moment--for it is a moment, a blink, and also too long to comprehend, and neither--is a moment that never ends. Not really. And this moment, laughing together, laughing at Momby, the funniest person on earth, all the love inside it, cosmic in its depth, ageless and always; this moment is already here, and it lives in my heart forever.

-----

A few hours later, Duncan was stepping out of the Mercedes, clutching the bundles of wildflowers in his arms with gentle hands, in front of Madeline’s warm and inviting brick house. The heat was deep, having drifted from the afternoon into a hazy hint of new sunset; it clung to Duncan’s skin with immediacy. He had changed into jersey shorts and a short-sleeved button down with tiny chevrons printed on it, his Yves sunglasses pressed to his eyes, but the heat seeped into him nonetheless; he could feel it gathering under his hairline at the back of his neck, feel it on his upper lip, nestling between the fibers of the stubbly hair on his cheeks, kindling his nervousness. She already said yes, you idiot, he thought to himself. Oh god, what if the ring isn’t perfect. What if she hates it. And I’m showing it to her for the first time in front of everyone. Oh, fuck. What the fuck were you thinking.

He felt in his pocket for the ring box, the Cartier bracelet sliding down against the top of his palm, staring at Madeline’s warmly-lit house, hearing the faint sound of music from the deck in the backyard, the hint of laughter--Claire, he knew, then heard the very soft notes of Kenzie’s voice, replying to Claire’s laughter, her own words tinged with an unknown amusement. Mackenzie Louise Stone, please fucking marry me. It didn’t matter if he’d already seen a vision of their wedding. It didn’t matter how many times he felt in his heart that they had been together for a very long time, and that he’d loved her for eons beyond his own imagining. I’m still afraid to lose her. Because that’s the cycle of it, isn’t it? Someday we’ll die and have to start over. Someday we’ll have to find each other again. I see the shape of it. I see how it must be. But even contemplating that parting, however long or brief it is each time, how much I miss her, unknowing, unaware that it’s her, each time. Me in the circle alone that night, not knowing what any of it meant, but feeling her out there, and longing for her so deeply. It’s agony and ecstasy. That’s the way its been for hundreds, thousands of years. Maybe a lot longer. Rosemary said there are infinite universes. Who knows how long some of them have existed.

Whoa, Duncan. Time to have a margarita. That’s enough of that for one day.

He stepped, in comfortable black loafers, across the gravel drive towards the side of the house. He waved a little to his new driver as he did, indicating the man could come back later. His name was Barry, and he was Chinese-American, of an indeterminate age, with slender, boxy glasses and a friendly, serene smile.  Duncan thought he looked oddly familiar, but couldn’t place his face no matter how hard he tried to remember it. Barry nodded to him, giving a little wave in return, and slowly backed the Mercedes from the drive.

It’ll be strange not having Samuel as my driver as often anymore, Duncan thought, but it only makes sense for him to be Kenzie’s personal driver. He adores her and would do anything for her, and I want her to feel as safe and happy as possible as she transitions into a wider role for the organization. I know it’s hard for her to give up the Post. But I also know it’s her dream to write this book--and I know she’s the most important aspect of us being able to do anything we’re dreaming about with the company. Anything that makes this easier on her is something I’m more than willing to give up if need be.

Besides, I like Chopin and Debussy. Barry has good taste. I feel like being so close to Kenzie all the time is making me constantly see the wonderful things in other people; the things I maybe wouldn’t have payed attention to before. He felt it again; that washing nostalgia, of time falling in on itself, expanding, distorting into a whirlwind of the outlying thing beyond time, full of grace, far too beautiful and vast to conceive, and yet always around them, holding them in its woven threads. He saw the thread again--gold tinged with blue--that tethered him to her, dragged him, pliant, into her arms. He heard another burst of laughter as the music became more distinct (blackbird singing in the dead of night...take these broken wings and learn to fly...all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arrive); its earnestness was unmistakably Kenzie’s, her snorting yelp rising over the humid air to push a shiver of affection down his spine. As he turned the corner with the flowers he could see the outline of her golden hair bouncing as she ran across the yard on bare feet, away from Claire who was chasing after her, in cut-off denim shorts and a wrapping peach blouse covered in soft pink flowers, and a round red water balloon poised in a raised fist. Duncan could see that Claire’s blonde shag and her cheek were damp, rivulets of water falling down her neck. Uh oh, payback time.

Kenzie turned, laughing, her mouth poised up to the sky; for a moment she glanced across to Claire, who advanced on her, and then Kenzie seemed to sense him, to see him from the spot where he stood very still, gazing at her with his hands full of flowers. Her head turned, the chestnut silk of her hair whipping along her shoulder, and she let out a little scream of happiness towards him that made his nerves sing.

“Dunny!” She called out, and then she was racing towards him, her little teeth peeking from her slender mouth, her eyes bright, cheeks flushed. She fell against him softly, careful not to crush the flowers--he clutched at her arms, tucking his mouth against hers, awash in the sweet scent of her sweat and the sunlight on her skin and the rose of her.

“Hi baby,” he whispered, and she hopped back on her toes, eyes on him, full of jade and tiny golden droplets, still gripping his fingers. “I missed you today.”

“Don’t let Claire get me!” she replied, laughing again, slipping around him as Claire came up to him, panting, at a slow jog. Duncan held one of the bundles in his arms out to Claire, and her face changed from her expression of frustrated amusement to one of wonderment.

“Oh my god,” she said, reaching out insistently, almost involuntarily. “Holy shit, these are so gorgeous. Are these from that circle you told me about, Kenz? The one with the flowers growing in spirals?”

“Yes, Clairebear, yes. Loooook at them,” Kenzie breathed, and her little arms came around Duncan’s waist, her face burying itself in his shirt. He leaned his mouth down to her temple, pressing tiny kisses there, loving the scent of her sweat there, the saltiness of it on his mouth. “Aren’t they the most beautiful flowers you’ve ever seen? And look, they haven’t wilted at all.”

“They really haven’t, wow,” and Claire leaned her face down into the bouquet Duncan had handed her. Her bouquet had a ring of goldenrods, looking as fresh as if Kenzie had just picked them, with what seemed like a hundred of the alyssums in purple and pink in the middle, and three huge magenta-colored fuschias in the center. Duncan watched Kenzie’s sweet little face soften towards her best friend, felt the drift of her complete happiness. My Clairebear.

Did you tell her yet? He thought down to her.

No, not yet. I was waiting for you. And her expression of soft sincerity moved to him; her eyes were so wide and had such depth, he could barely stand to look into them. Princess Kenzie. I have such a tribute for you. Such a sweet delight for your blessed eyes. I can’t wait to give it to you. Her gaze flickered; the gold seemed to seep into them, and she bit her lip with a smile.

Give me my present, Prince Duncan. Give me my present, baby.

Soon, baby, soon.

“Duncan--” and Claire’s voice dragged them out of their repose. “--you really need to assign Kenzie her own PR team. Or help her choose her own. Or something. I’m getting calls every day from people trying to interview me about her. It’s insane. DUNCAN, MAKE IT STOP.” She was laughing, but the last part came out as a strangled plea.

“Claire, I promise, now that I’m in charge of Shepherd Unlimited, Kenzie will have the most flawless PR team on the east coast. I’m sorry anyone’s been bothering you--I’ll make sure that stops.”

Claire gave him a look of mock relief. “Well, thank you, Mr. Shepherd. I admit, I am selfishly motivated. I want my phone to stop ringing, it gives me fucking anxiety.”

“Dunny--you know who I want to ask?” Kenzie tugged on his elbow and looked down at her. Stay right there, baby. I love you so close, tucked against me. “That girl from Vanity Fair. River Tsukamoto. I loved her. I wonder if she’d leave the magazine if we offered her a pay raise.”

“Baby, if you want her, we’ll get her. We’ll make her an offer she can’t pass up.”

Duncan glanced up to the deck as he heard the door slide open, turning away from her, intent to tease her for just a little longer; Madeline had just come out with a tray of icy tumblers of margarita in her hands, each garnished with a lime wedge and line of salt around the rim. She wore red-rimmed glasses today and a tee shirt that said I LIKE BIG BOOKS AND I CANNOT LIE, a long black spandex skirt falling to her ankles, sparkly, colorful bracelets on her wrist--Erik followed behind her in a feather boa in iridescent cobalt blue, and a blazer covered in bronzey sequins (Duncan noticed he was not wearing a shirt underneath), a bowl of tortilla chips in one hand, a huge mixing bowl of guacamole in the other. Harris shyly followed at the rear, holding the massive tray of hard and soft-shelled tortillas. Duncan noticed a vast spread of taco toppings of all varieties on a long fold-out table they’d pulled onto the deck; shredded cheeses and lettuce, shrimp, shredded chicken, crumbled beef, tofu, diced tomatoes, pickled jalapenos and radishes, roasted corn, Mexican-style rice, a huge bowl of spicy-looking salsa and at least five different kinds of hot sauce. Duncan’s stomach rumbled and Kenzie glanced up at him, grinning.

“Oy, you three!” Madeline spotted them, cocking her head up to them, then down at the margaritas. “Come make this tray lighter, Momby’s orders.” Kenzie broke away from him (come back, baby) and he followed after her, admiring the fall of her hair again, imagining the peony and rose crown in it (gold leaves, tiny crystals). Claire was already back on the deck, shyly coming up to Harris (who, Duncan noted, was wearing a tropical shirt covered in palm trees) and going up on her toes to kiss his cheek--the sincere smile that crossed Harris’ face was enough to melt the heart of anyone who witnessed it. Besotted, Duncan thought. That’s a mood, Harris. There is so much beauty in everything, and to see it so clearly is a gift I can’t fathom the weight of.

“This man,” Madeline cocked her head at Harris and Claire as Kenzie reached her, grasping two of the margaritas in her little hands, “is such a dream. He walked right out of 1940’s pre-code Hollywood if you ask me.”

“I agree,” Claire whispered, and Harris looked away. Is Harris blushing? Duncan grinned down at Kenzie, who was at the crook of his elbow now, holding a margarita up to him. He dipped down to kiss her, achingly slow, and she laughed a little into him, the chime of it clenching at his heart. He sure is. I love them so much together. Dunny, Claire is so happy. I love her so much. To see her so happy like that is so wonderful, I can’t stand it. She looks so beautiful.

It was all Duncan could do to nod to her, his hand in her hair, then he moved gently away from her to where Madeline was placing the tray on the deck table. He gently reached out a hand and touched Madeline’s turned shoulder--Madeline looked up at him, and then she smiled, a deep smile of aching warmth that sent a dizziness through his temples, threatened his eyes instantly with tears. She pulled him against her; Duncan’s was immediately enveloped by her linen, wine-rich scent.

“Still waiting on that mother of yours,” she murmured against him. “I heard you talked with her today. Good boy.”

Duncan clenched his arms around her a little, lost in the intensity of his emotions. “Hey, Momby.” He closed his eyes, fighting off the instant urge to sob. Hey, Momby.

“Oh, honey,” Madeline’s hand came up to his hair, stroking for a short moment before he stepped back from her. “You should be proud of yourself. I’m fucking proud of you. And you should’ve heard how proud my little Kenzie Lou is. I’m proud as fuck of both of you. You’ve weathered this insane storm like it was nothing.”

“I’m--I just--” Duncan’s breath hitched. Kenzie ducked under his arm, her cheek pressing against his chest, her arms coming around his waist. Shhhh, Dunny, baby. Golden wave after golden wave. His voice became a whisper in his own ears.

“I’m very fortunate.”

“Yep.” Madeline laughed a little, two fingers coming up to dip against his cheek, pinching it delicately. “Yes, Duncan Shepherd, my soon to be son-in-law. You are. Now go forth and be grateful.”

The sound of a car turning onto the gravel out front pulled his attention away from Madeline. There she is. Annette. My mother. And she really is my mother, isn’t she? She’s always been my mother. She always will be. Blood doesn’t matter here; I don’t think it really matters at all. I can feel that she’s my mother. Kenzie looked at him, knowingly, dipping out of his arm and leading him around the house, their drinks momentarily forgotten. Duncan knew what was in her mind; he could see it.

Let’s go welcome your mother into the new world.

At Madeline’s front drive he could see Annette slowly exiting her Mercedes, gripping Becket’s large hand for balance. The sun was setting behind her, and for a moment her dark hair looked like it was surrounded by a ring of fire. She wore dark sunglasses despite the lowering evening light, and a long white dress that fell to her calves covered in tiny flower bursts that immediately reminded him of the alyssum they had given her yesterday; Duncan knew, too, that that’s what Annette had been thinking of when she decided to wear it. She was thinking of us. She was thinking of me, and how much she loves me. And she was thinking of Kenzie too; how she’s always wanted a daughter, and can’t believe she didn’t see before how beautiful Kenzie is, and mom, oh, mom. He could feel her, like an echo that reverberated against him, feel the thoughts she’d tucked away today, hidden in the depth of her dark brown eyes as she slid her sunglasses off, staring at him with a shy, apprehensive expression.

Kenzie ran ahead of him, her little body crushing into Annette’s. The innocence of her embrace stopped Duncan’s heart. Kenzie, Queen of Roses, angel of heaven. He watched his mother’s face crumple with emotion; he hovered a yard away from them, watching as Kenzie pulled away from her, saying something softly to her. Annette nodded, her eyes glistening, her hand coming against Kenzie’s chestnut-honey hair. The vision of their faces so close together this way, Annette’s full of a peacefulness he could have never imagined, was dreamlike in its perfect splendor.

He went up to them now, the moment dissolving. “Hey mom,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Guess I can’t back out now,” she laughed a little, sniffing quietly. “There aren’t any sharp objects around Madeline, are there?”

“Just her tongue,” Kenzie grinned, and Annette laughed again. “Ah, yes. Sharpest weapon of all. I expect an earful.” Clearly they hadn’t spoken at the Gala--that was such a strange night for everyone, Duncan knew.

“Madeline is the one who invited you, mom. She wants you here.”

Madeline was coming around the side of the house, her lips pursed in a look of apprehension; but no malice. And she was curious, that was obvious--it had been years since Annette and Madeline had spoken to each other in person, let alone kindly. Kenzie stepped back as Madeline approached. Annette came forward a little, her face uncharacteristically nervous, and Duncan noticed she had a small box in her hands.

“Madeline, I--”

“Hug me, you ragged old hag.” Madeline pulled her into a crushing embrace; Annette let out a little strangled sound of astonishment, then a barking laugh.

“Jesus, Madeline, you’re suffocating me--”

“Oh, shut up. You’ve made it through worse than me. I’m sorry, Annie. I’m sorry about Bill.”

They broke apart. There were tears in Annette’s eyes again, but she was smiling. My mother has such a beautiful smile, Duncan thought.

Annette held the box out to Madeline in the sunset; “Bygones, and all that,” she murmured. Kenzie was leaning over the box curiously, her honey hair falling over her shoulder to dangle in the air (my Kenzie Lou) as Madeline opened it--inside the box were a pair of gold Versace Medusa head earrings.

“I think I see, now, that Medusa was unfairly maligned,” Annette whispered.

“Annie, they’re lovely. Not sure if they’re quite my style, but I’ll wear them just to piss off the conservative news pundits, that’s for sure. Thank you. Come have a margarita.”

“Can I see the house? I’d--I’d like to.” Annette seemed to want to talk to Madeline alone, Duncan realized--and Madeline softened, nodded, reached out her hand to link her arm around the bottom of Annette’s elbow.

“We won’t be long, my moon babies,” Madeline said over her shoulder to Duncan and Kenzie; then she pulled Annette towards the house.

“Fuck, Dunny,” Kenzie whispered up to him, intense happiness in her face. “I love them together so much. Fuck, I’m so happy. Look how beautiful they are.” Duncan looked to the retreating backs of their mothers, the sunset showering them in a pattern of orange and deepening sunflower-yellow. Madeline was saying something low to Annette and his mother threw her head back laughing, her mouth opening and chin raising in mirth. Mom. You’re so lovely. To see you happy this way is beyond words.

“Come on, baby, I’m starving,” Kenzie was pulling on his arm now, her fingers sliding down to his palm suggestively; she leaned away from him and he caught her under her elbows, pulling her back into him until she was flush against his torso.

“I missed you today, Princess Kenzie,” he whispered into the space between her lips, and Kenzie laughed; the sound made him shiver, made his ears ring, his head dizzy. He could feel the soft weight of the ring box in his pocket, its presence there like a tiny fire. Eat first, then the ring. When everyone is there.

“And I missed you, Prince Duncan.” She pushed up on her toes; Duncan lifted her into his mouth, feeling a chill of sensation flow through him despite the heat at the sweet taste of her; like the grapes of Dionysus in some paradise, or the ambrosia of Olympus. Hers is the sweetest of all tastes. His hands clutched her; one tangled inside her hair (I’ll never let go never let go never), cradling the back of her head, the other tight around her hips. Kenzie reclined back from him for a moment, still lifted into his arms, eyes dancing; he leaned to her desperately, starved.

“I love you, I love you, I love you--” he lost himself in the cadence of his own speech; his entreaties to her bled together, a wordless song. “I have something for you, and it’s so divine--almost as divine as you are--”

“Give it to me, Dunny,” she pressed her forehead against his, grinning. “Give me my present.”

“I want everyone to be there--”

“Oh, fuck, baby.”  Kenzie slipped down from his grip, staring up at him now, her face having drifted from radiant excitement to shy wonder. “I know what it is.”

“Kenzie.”

“Duncan.”

“Food first, baby.”

“Did you--did you find out if the place is still there? The one you saw with Adelaide so long ago.”

“It is,” he breathed, nuzzling his nose against her again, loving the scent of vetiver and roses at her temple. “Baby, it is. It’s been sitting there, untouched, waiting for us for decades. I feel sure of it, it’s not a coincidence--it’s Fated, it’s Her. They’re going to send me photos of it soon. I don’t know what it looks like now, if it’s any different, or if you’ll be able to tell from the way the pictures look, but--I have the most wonderful feeling. Baby--I’m going to have the most beautiful house built there for you, Kenzie. I’m going to have your dream house built there--your house, for you and you alone, and your garden, and your own greenhouse, and your horses--Kenz, it’s 16 acres, they’ll have so much room, we can ride them together, we can plant fruit trees--”

Kenzie abruptly burst into tears. Her face crumpled, lips thinning in a paltry effort to stop herself, her eyes squinting up and a tiny wail coming from her; Duncan crushed her into him and she buried her face against his shirt, immediately soaking it with a cascade of tears; her fingers gripped him tightly, bunching the fibers of the chevron-covered fabric as if he were the only thing anchoring her in a storm.

“Listen to me,” he whispered into her ear, swirling blue into her. Listen to me. Cry as much as you want, Kenzie baby. Cry as much as you need to. You can always cry against me this way--whenever you need to cry, I’ll hold you. I’ll hold you so close, in this life, and the next one, and the life after that. Listen to me. I love you. I love you, my moonbeam, my angel, my beloved, exalted love. I promised you I’d give you everything you’ve ever wanted. I promised you before I knew who you were--and even now, now that we know, it doesn’t really matter, does it? I’d still have given you anything; everything. Even if Rosemary hadn’t told us, we’d know anyway, deep down. I knew from the first moment I saw you. You, High Princess, will have whatever your heart desires. You’ve blessed this world with your radiance, and blessed me forever with your love, and so you will have anything you ever wanted. And we’re going to bring your sacred house to life.

He could feel her thoughts in return, shuddering: I’m glad Momby and Annette went to the house. I want to cry alone with you. I’m so happy, but I just want to cry, Dunny, just for a little while.

I know, Kenzie. Duncan felt the tears on his own cheeks; and was unafraid of them. I know, baby. Me too. He felt his tears drifting down into her golden hair, knew she knew now, in her golden thoughts, that he was crying too, her little arms tightening around him. And he thought, when your dreams come true, what can you do but cry?

-----

Everyone was gathered on Madeline’s long deck; the fireflies had come out, the fairy lights glowing. The tacos were long-consumed, the margaritas having eventually ceded into shots of tequila. The realtor had sent Duncan dozens of pictures of the acreage; it was huge, with an overgrown orchard of crabapple trees, several vast fields, an old farmhouse and dilapidated barn, and a wild energy that Duncan remembered acutely from that day so long ago with Adelaide; one that Kenzie could clearly sense from the photos, her hands shaking as she held Duncan’s large black iPhone, her finger sliding through them. She’s Here, in this place, Kenzie had thought to him, and he nodded. It’s one of those places, as we suspected, and it’s strong, like the black oak circle. The Veil. This is where we’ll build your temple, High Princess. This is where we’ll get away from the world when we need to, and where I’ll worship you for the rest of our lives.

Duncan couldn’t believe it; Annette and Madeline were both drunk, laughing with each other uproariously. Annette had been telling a story he’d never heard about milking free drinks from a very well-known politician when she was still in grad school, then quickly ghosting the date when he went to the bathroom, but not before taking the thousand-dollar caviar tapas she’d put on his tab and bundling it into a napkin in her purse. Duncan watched his mother with awe as she tossed back another shot of tequila nonchalantly, slipping a lime between her elegant lips. “Best caviar I’ve ever had, sweet with the taste of escape.”

“Annette, honestly, thank you for telling me this story,” Madeline was crying with laughter, and Kenzie was looking between him and their mothers with an iridescent glee in her eyes, reflecting more gold than ever in the fairy lights, her hair dazzlingly flipping, back and forth. “I prefer the Annette who fucks the bourgeoisie with their own AmEx.”

Kenzie had poured him another shot of the tequila alongside one for her, and he glanced around the deck table, at every face gathered with them; Erik was sitting in a deck chair across from Annette and Madeline, watching them with a bemused drunkenness, his fifth margarita held languidly between thumb and index finger, a silvery paper fan drifting in his other hand in the humid night. Claire and Harris were sitting close together on the long deck couch in the south corner beside the steps that led down to the yard; Claire was whispering something into Harris’ ear with her leg dipping over his knee, and his wide, friendly grin was breaking forth. They are lovely together, Duncan thought. They are meant to be together, too, at least in this time and place. I can see that very clearly. It’s like a map of them that’s all spread out in front of us; I think Kenzie can see it too. Us coming together brought them together too. As it was meant to be.

Lindsey Buckingham’s disgruntled wail bled out of Go Your Own Way on Madeline’s little stereo, fading--and Christine McVie’s gentle piano drifted out into the night as Kenzie brought his eyes back to her, clinking her shot-glass against his. For you there’ll be no more cryin’, for you, the sun will be shining…

He drank the shot down, wincing a little--it was his fourth tequila of the night, and it had done its job; he felt wildly bold now, ready to shout out his love for her into the night, to whirl her around in his arms until the two of them dizzily sank into the grass. I wish we were still in that starry field alone, laying against each other, dreaming of blue butterflies and golden-tinted snow. I love everyone, but I always want to be alone with you. He watched Kenzie for a moment as she made a face over her shot, sticking her little tongue out, rubbing a lime wedge along it in a cute tick that squeezed his chest. Nobody uses a lime after a tequila shot like that...except my Kenzie. She noticed him looking at her and kept her tongue out, wiggling it towards him pointedly now. What are you staring at, Duncan Shepherd.

My wife.

Duncan stood up, the night a balm to his buzzing skin; then, he knelt down in front of Kenzie, sliding the ring box out of his pocket in the soft, low light. Kenzie’s cheeks were flushed with the tequila--her eyes were glistening green-forest-gold, her hair falling around her shoulders in luxurious waves with sweat shining at her temples, the triple moons at her throat, the Cartier diamonds on her wrist. Her feet were bare and dirty with mud and grass; the black dress had hitched up around her thighs, exposing the whiteness of her smooth skin, and lime juice was shining on her bottom lip. Her tiny mouth trembled with a smile that made him swallow back a nervousness that he couldn’t place; I know you said yes already, baby, but you make me so flustered, you’re too fucking beautiful. I can’t fathom how you’re mine. I still just can’t comprehend it. You’re so moving. I’m shaken by you endlessly.

And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before...

Erik was the only one who noticed, for a moment--Duncan felt his eyes, framed by fake eyelashes (these with blue rhinestones), going wide, knowing. Then Claire screamed; everyone jumped, balking towards her.

“Holy fuck, Duncan!” Claire said, on her feet, hands pressed to her cheeks--Harris was staring up a her with a shocked expression--and then, Claire burst abruptly into tears.

“Clairebear, do not fucking cry!” Kenzie whined at her best friend across the deck. “I already cried today and you’re gonna make me fucking cry again. Or let him at least give it to me first. Clairebear. I love you.”

“Kenzie,” Claire sobbed into her fingers. “I love you both so much.” She sat back down beside Harris at this, peering through her teary fingers at them, hands drifting down to her mouth to watch. Harris tucked a comforting hand around her shoulder, smiling at her shyly.

Duncan watched this exchange, shellshocked, then realized the only sounds now were Songbird and the soft sound of Claire sniffling; Annette and Madeline were watching him quietly, their expressions serene, approving, and deep with emotion. Duncan noted, tears beginning to gather behind his eyes again, that Madeline had reached out to Annette’s hand and grasped it affectionately. Who would have ever imagined.

Duncan turned back to Kenzie. She was looking back at him now; she reached for his hand and her fingers were so warm and immediately comforting, so right, his eyes closed inside the feeling of them for a long moment.

“Some of the people here knew this already. Some of them didn’t--Claire,” he said, glancing to her, “We wanted it to be a surprise for you. We love you too. We love you all, so much. Thank you for everything you’ve ever done for us.” He looked around at their mothers; at Erik, whose rouged cheeks were now streaked with twin tears.

“Kenzie,” he whispered, then, and he saw her halo again; saw it glittering around the nimbus of her golden hair in the night, saw fireflies, emboldened by her aura, lighting softly in the air around her. “Mackenzie Stone. I love you more than anything in heaven or on earth. I love you with my body, my spirit, my whole soul. Please marry me.”

He opened the ring box toward her--Kenzie’s breath hitched as the moonstone caught the fairy lights, its cool, serene surface an immediate, exquisite, otherworldly thing. As fervid, as perfect an object for her as could be conceived; a devotion to her unspeakable loveliness, her beauty that I can only seem to describe as a color. Gold, gold, gold. The moon amid all that gold, cocooned in her heavenly sky. My Kenzie forevermore. The diamonds framing the stone glittered as his hand shook around the case it was tucked into; Kenzie’s face was awash in tears again, despite her plea to Claire.

“You know I will. Put it on me, Dunny, please,” she said quietly, holding out her elegant little hand. “I’ll never take it off. Never.”

Duncan took the ring from the little velvet box, feeling everyone’s intent eyes on them. He slid it gently up onto the ring finger of her left hand; Kenzie dipped her finger down and the stones caught the light again, dazzling him. Her thoughts were a song sweeter than any he’d ever heard before; the sweetness of her mind a prayer that extended all around them, spinning its shining threads into intricate geometries that he could barely conceive.

Duncan. Sword of the Evening Star. My Soulmate, Exalted for all time. It’s perfect. It takes my breath away, my love.

“Earth to Duckenzie,” Madeline crowed, her hand cupped around her mouth from across the table. “Some of us can’t read thoughts, though you two are constantly staring at each other as if you can.” Duncan snorted. Someday, Madeline, we’ll tell you all about it.

“Momby. It’s perfect. Yes. I will. Yes.”

For the span of a few seconds (infinite, me and you, baby) Kenzie stared into his eyes; he saw her halo still, and now he saw her wings, saw her otherworldly hair, lustrous in the night. Then Claire rushed to Kenzie and fell against her, sobbing again. Kenzie’s eyes still looked at him from the halo of Claire’s arms, and the devotion that lit them, twin stars in the shadow of the evening, from deep within the most secret part of her soul, he knew, was the only answer he would ever need to any question.

I love you. Body and soul.

[didiletyouknooow]

36. Californication

Hey,

it’s weekend again and I hope you enjoy it! Here’s a new chapter of Josh & Eileen.  It was a bit strange sitting outside in the sunny garden writing a chapter about Christmas and New Years Eve :D  I hope you like it and thank you for reading! It always makes me happy to see that people like my story (I think I always repeat myself). I picked a song at the end of the chapter I really like...although I don’t like Jared Leto that much (but he’s a great actor!) it was the perfect song for the ending of this chapter.  _____________________

One week later I ended things with Adam.

I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to be honest with myself and confess to myself that I didn’t have any feelings for him – except of friendly feelings. I knew that he was feeling differently. He told me that he was in love with me and I felt so sorry for not reciprocating his feelings. But I would be lying to him and to myself if I would tell him I would feel the same way. I didn’t. Instead I was questioning myself what I was feeling for Josh.

After our discussion at the concert he called me a few times and even sent me some text messages but I didn’t answer them. He called every day and later wrote me that he want to have another talk with me. He wanted to clarify some things. But for me it wouldn’t make any sense. He was with Chloe. She posted a picture from the balcony of his house just yesterday. So why did he text and call me if his girlfriend was still living with him? I didn’t get it.

So after eight days I finally had the courage to answer him.

 “Hey Josh, please stop calling or texting me. I don’t wanna have a talk. It doesn’t make sense for me since you’re with Chloe. Please stop it. I don’t wanna hear from you again” I cried after sending it to him but I had to do it. Otherwise I would go crazy. Sure, there was an opportunity that maybe he really wanted to clarify some things with me but what if it was only for his conscience? I didn’t know and I didn’t want to know it, if I was honest with myself.

Adam accepted our “break up”. I didn’t even know if I could call it a break up when we were never really in a relationship? But I knew that for him it was something that could lead easily into a serious relationship and since I didn’t feel the same way I think it was just fair to be honest with him. We had a talk one day before he went home for Christmas and I also apologized for not telling him about Josh. He thanked me that I was honest with him – at least now. But you could see in his face that he was feeling sad and heartbroken and I couldn’t find words to describe how terrible I felt for making him feel this way. It was my fault. Absolutely my fault. If I wouldn’t have started dating him he would feel better now. Maybe he would’ve found another woman.

I had to accept that I wasn’t ready for something new. Adam was a nice guy and I still liked him as a friend but not as a boyfriend. There were still so many things going on in my head with which I had to come to terms with.

 It was Christmas evening when I was sitting in my parents’ living room drinking some wine. I remembered last years Christmas Eve when Josh came around for dinner and everyone was looking at him with a strange face because they thought he wouldn’t fit to “us”. I still can’t describe how mad I was at my aunt and my mom for behaving like this towards him. I wondered what he was doing now? I bet he was with Chloe at her parents’ home sitting under the Christmas tree. The perfectly boyfriend who just cheated on his new girl with his ex girlfriend. Best boyfriend ever! While I was thinking about it I needed another glass of wine so I got me something more.

My dad entered the room and sat down next to me on the couch. “So, this was Christmas for this year. I’m glad we have another 365 days until the next Christmas Eve” he said opening his beer bottle. It was obvious that he didn’t like Christmas at all. “Wow, finally it’s over! Noel is sleeping and I’m gonna have a drink now! Dad, you wanna have some whiskey with me?” Marc asked after joining us. “Hey, what about me? I wanna have some whiskey, too!” I let them know. “It’s the time of the year, isn’t it?” my dad laughed. “It is! Finally Christmas is over!” I said. You can tell that my family don’t really like Christmas. 

This year I was very happy that it was only me, my parents, Marc and Maggie with Noel. No cousins, no aunts and uncles. No one who could ask dumb questions about my lovelife or about grandma’s death or about life in general.

“So you broke up with this Adam guy?” my brother asked. “Who is Adam?” now it was my father who looked surprised at me. I didn’t tell my parents about Adam because it wasn’t something serious. The last guy I told them about was Josh. “He’s one of my co workers. But, you know, we never had a relationship, we were only dating” I explained. “And it didn’t work out?” “No dad, it didn’t” “Na, it’s never a good idea to date a co worker” he told me. “Yes, now I know” 

Adam and I agreed to behave like normal co workers would behave. No drama, no jealousy, no discussions. We wanted to be as professional and serious as we could when we would be back at work after the holidays.

“How did he react when you told him?” Marc wanted to know. “He was hurt but we didn’t have a fight or discussions. So no drama in the end. I mean, it only lasted for a few weeks, nothing special” “I thought you’re still into Josh but when you already dated new guys then….” My dad stated. Really? How did he know that I wasn’t completely over Josh? “I still can’t believe he came to grandma’s funeral. I mean, what did he have to do with her? He wasn’t related to her” Marc said a bit pissed. “But it was very kind of him! I didn’t expect it! I mean, it was in Cologne, not in LA” my dad defended Josh. “Yeah, but only because he was in Europe with the Chili Peppers at that day” Marc was obviously still mad about Josh being at the funeral. “Eileen, please, do you agree with me that it was a nice gesture by Josh coming to the funeral?” “Yes it was” I sighed. “I think Steve wouldn’t have done it! This jerk wouldn’t even have attended the funeral if it would’ve been in LA” “Dad!” I said. “Please, stop…” ”It’s just the truth. You know I never liked this guy” “Yeah, I know….you only pretended to like him” “Yes” “Therefore Mom loved Steve….sometimes I wonder who was more heartbroken when we broke up. Me or mom” “Eileen!” my dad laughed. “Don’t say that” “I completely changed my opinion about Josh after your break up. For me he’s just an immature guy in a body of a 35 year old man” my brother interrupted us. “Marc, I wouldn’t say so! I always saw him as this super nice, humble and smart guy who’s sometimes maybe a bit too thoughtful” dad said but I agreed with Marc in some points. “You’re right Marc. Sometimes he behaves a bit like a child. I still don’t know why he ended it and I don’t wanna know it anymore. It was his decision and I accept it. But he should stay away from my life” “He’s just a normal rockstar!” Marc raged against him. “You know, in the end I’m happy he didn’t cheat on me!” I said while leaving the couch. “Josh is no cheater!” my dad stated. “Oh yes he is!” I told him and he looked at me with a surprised face. I turned around and left the room to get into my bedroom. Like every Christmas eve I slept in my parents’ home and it always brought back my childhood in some ways. 

When I sat down at my small bed in my small room where I spent most of my teenager years listening to emo music I heard a door opening. It was Marc who was now entering my room after knocking at the door. “I didn’t say you can come in” I joked. “Come on, the door was open!” he laughed. “I know….” “So Eileen…..are you feeling well?” “Uhm, yes. Why are you asking me?” “Because I you looked sad the whole evening. I know it’s Christmas and I know you don’t like it. I mean, no one in our family likes it except of our mother, but….is everything okay?” “Yes Marc, everything’s fine” I let him know and smiled. But my brother wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “Eileen” he said sighing while sitting down next to me. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing’s wrong!” I chuckled. “I’m just tired” “Okay, then I come to the point….what did you mean when you told us that you’re happy Josh didn’t cheat on you?” “Nothing….it’s just a thought. I mean as you said, he’s a rockstar. There are so many opportunities when he’s away on tour so I’m glad he didn’t hurt me that much” “But he did?” “No” “I mean….he did cheat on someone?” “Why are you asking me this question? Why are you even caring?” “Because it’s so strange….there is something strange about all of this….” He said and he riddled. But I knew him and I knew this behaviour. “Marc, why are you asking? What do you wanna tell me?” “Uff” he sighed. “Please, don’t take it too serious but….there was this question on my mind that…if maybe….you and Josh…I don’t know. I just have this feeling that maybe you two hooked up again”

There it was. My brother read my face. He knew something was happening.

“Why do you wanna know Marc?” “Because I care about you! I wanna know if you’re feeling sad because of a guy and if it’s Josh then….” ”Then was? You wanna punch him in the face? Please Marc, stop it. I’m okay. I’m a big girl, okay?” “Yes but you will always be my little sister and I don’t want you to feel sad or heartbroken” “Believe me I was heartbroken several times when you didn’t even know it! And I survived!” “Okay…but….Eileen, am I right? Did something happen with Josh?” I thought about not telling him but he knew it anyway so I nodded. “Yes” “So….I knew it” “But it was just once. Nothing special. We were both drunk” “When was it?” “Thanksgiving” ”Wow….” “Marc, it’s okay. I wanted it, he wanted it. It’s okay. The only thing I feel bad about is that he was in a relationship when it happened. Okay he still is….” ”Yes I know” he said. “How do you know?” “Because it’s on the internet? Maggie showed me Chloe’s social media posts. She seems to be very in love but also very talkative” he stated. “Yeah I know it’s all over the internet. At least she’s posting pictures about her perfectly life on a regular basis” “Don’t tell me you stalk her on Instagram!?” “I do….” “Eileen! Stop it! It’s ridiculous!” “I know….and I know I shouldn’t do it but I can’t stop!” “Little sister….this will make you feel even worse about the whole situation” “Which situation?” “Dealing with the fact that your ex has someone new” he told me. “Although I’m not sure how serious it’s for him. But, he’s even….” ”Moving in with her” we now both said. When we realized that we both had the same thought in mind we started laughing. “Typical brother-sister-thing” Marc giggled.

I laid my head on his shoulder and sighed. “I know it’s ridiculous stalking your ex’ new girlfriend on social media but you know me, I liked ruining my life and making myself feel bad by doing these stupid things” “I know….I mean I did it too some years ago” “See…it’s in our nature” “Did you see her pic with all the spelling mistakes?” “The pic from San Diego? Yes” I started laughing. “I started immediately thinking about you and you’re ‘I’m better than you, bitch’-face” Marc told me chuckling. “Noooooo….I don’t do such a face” “But you think it!” “No!” ”Come on, it’s after midnight, you can be honest with me” “Hm….okay maybe I thought it for a short moment” I admitted. 

“So uhm little sister, I’m gonna go to bed now. Do you think I can leave you alone?” “Yes you can. You know, I’m a big girl” “And big girls don’t cryyyyyy” Marc started singing. “Right!” I chuckled. “Good night Eileen. And please don’t think it all through okay?” “I won’t” I smiled at him and wished him a good night.

After Marc left I looked around in the dark and quiet room. Then I took my blanket and put it all over my body till it reached my nose. I stopped thinking about all this bullshit and fell asleep.

On December 27 Lara arrived at LAX. I picked her up from the airport and we drove to my apartment. She was in LA before but it was long ago so she was still overwhelmed by the city. “Wooooow, I still can’t believe you live here!” “Well…it’s just my hometown. Nothing special” I laughed. “Yeah, for me it’s special” I showed her my apartment and just realized that although I was living here for nearly one year she never saw it. “It’s so lovely!” she said while we were making pasta. That’s what we nearly always did in Berlin. Making pasta. We both loved it. And sure we had to open a bottle of wine for dinner That’s our thing!

We had this typical girl talk the next hours. Lara told me how her relationship with Leon was like. They were having some hard times because after Leon’s graduation his job at the university would end in two months and he was offered a job in Hamburg. So they either had to move to Hamburg together or they would end up in a long distance relationship. Lara didn’t want any of it to happen but she knew they had to make a decision in the new year. “So that’s why I’m here! I want to forget about all this bullshit from the last two months. All these fights and discussions we had and the problems we have to solve” she said. “I never thought I would be in a serious relationship that fast again” Lara chuckled and looked into her glass. “Me neither...after Steve” “Josh?” “Yes….I mean….it’s so weird. When I first met him I never thought I would fall in love with him and when we were together I never thought he would leave like that” “Just out of a sudden….” Lara stated. “Yep!” “Are you still have feelings for him?” “Hmmm” I sighed. “Okay, I think it’s time for another bottle of wine!” Lara said laughing and opened the second bottle for tonight. 

I was still thinking about her question and tried to find answers. But I didn’t find them. “So Eileen” Lara harrumphed. “What’s your answer to my question?” “Uhm….well” I sighed again. “I don’t know” “So you can neither say you don’t have feelings for him nor can you say you still have feelings?” “Yes” “That sounds complicated” ”It is” I said. “And I never thought it would be so complicated when I met him” “That’s life” “I think so….” I took another sip of my wine. “Truth is, since I ended these dating thing with Adam I thought about Josh more and more… ”Ha! I knew it!” Lara laughed. “It’s not funny Lara….” ”No but….to me it’s funny because that’s what I always thought when we were skyping or texting but I didn’t want to start this topic again and again…” ”Okay….so yeah you were right about me” “Do you miss him?” “Hmm….sometimes. I mean, we didn’t see each other on a regular basis in the last six months so….sometimes I miss him. Mostly when I’m alone in my bed or sitting on my couch watching Netflix” “Okay…” ”It’s just the simple things in life, you know? I don’t miss the dates we had, I don’t miss the special concerts and events he took me to. I don’t miss the luxury hotels we stayed in when I joined him a few times on tour. I don’t miss it. What I miss is him being Josh and what we had when we were together. But I think he changed a lot since summer…” ”But maybe it’s just phase….” ”No I don’t think so. I mean, he’s dating this actress who’s so different than him but there must be something about her that he likes because he lives with her now in his house” ”Yes but it doesn’t have to mean a thing” ”Maybe….we don’t know” ”But to me she seems to be very shallow and looking for attention” ”Could be….we never know. We have to be honest, we don’t know her. I don’t know her. Maybe she already graduated from law school and is a super brain” ”Yeah and I’m the next pope!” Lara started giggling. “Lara….honestly, we don’t know. I don’t want to look up her social media profiles anymore. It’s just ridiculous. I mean….she’s very pretty. She’s young but not too young. She’s full-aged and has a well paid job as an actress in a comedy show. Sure she wants to get more famous but why should she use Josh to get famous? The paparazzis don’t care about him. He can walk through LA without being noticed – most of the time. So she doesn’t have to post much more private stuff on her social media profiles to show the people who her boyfriend is” “But didn’t you tell me there were already comments about some pics she shared where people were discussing their relationship?” “Yes there were a few. But just a few. And she deleted most of them” ”Wow….okay” ”So maybe they don’t want it to be that public. I mean, you know Josh…” ”Yeah I know him and I want to punch him in the face” “Why?” “Because of who he is! How he treated you! Sleeping with you and then going back to his girlfriend isn’t that genteel!” Lara told me with an angry voice. “Lara, it was just fun!” ”Are you sure? Because I don’t think so….at least not for you!” ”Yeah! I’m over it” I said and drank my wine. “I only think about him from times to times...” ”You aren’t over him” ”Yes I am!” ”You just told me that you started thinking about him more and more in the last weeks….” ”Yes I did. But that doesn’t mean that I’m still in love with him. It’s just not easy forgetting everything we had” ”Can you imagine starting a new relationship with him?” she suddenly asked and that hit me. I never thought about it before because it wouldn’t come true anyway since he was dating Chloe.

“Eileen? Are you still there?” she asked me after a few minutes of overthinking it. “Uhm yes I am. I just had to think about it” Lara got us some new wine. “I don’t know. Some parts of me would like to start something new but another part of me says that it wouldn’t make any sense and wouldn’t work out in the end. Besides he has Chloe now…” “What if he wouldn’t date her? Just imagine….” “I can’t. He does. That’s reality” ”But…just think about it. Can you imagine dating him again? Because you have still feelings for him?” “Lara, it’s not that easy.” “Did you have the feeling during that night on thanksgiving….did you think there was more between you?” “Hmm…for a short moment it felt like it used to be” “So….that’s an argument. Do you think he felt it too?” “Maybe….when we had our discussion after the concert the other week he mentioned something like….’I can’t forget it’ and I asked him what he want to tell me but he didn’t say anything more.” “Fucking strange” ”Yeah, very strange” ”Stranger things will happen” she philosophized. “So….as you see, my love life is a mess right now” “Oh don’t say that! My love life was a mess for more than ten years I think….until I met Leon” “That’s just how we do I guess” I joked. “Ohhhh wait, come on there is this song by Katy Perry, isn’t it?” Lara jumped off from the couch and opened her laptop and a few seconds later we were dancing through my apartment to “This Is How We Do” by Katy Perry.

Sometimes you’re still a girl no matter if you’re 18 or almost 30!

The next days we spent driving through LA visiting the typical tourism hotspots. Lara was still overwhelmed by the city and couldn’t believe that she was actually here right now. I tried to tell her some stories about the spots we visited and she was very interested listening to me. She told me that I must be such a good teacher according to my speaking and explaining skills. I had to laugh very loud when she told me. Visiting a city doesn’t mean that you’re only visiting the typical sightseeing spots. It also means that you HAVE to try the food the city offers you. And LA had a lot. No matter if fast food, organic food, vegetarian food, vegan food, low carb….there was EVERYTHING you can imagine. And since Lara and I both loved food we tried a lot.

One day we had delicious burgers with sweet potato chips, the other day we tried out Mexican burritos for lunch and organic beef for dinner. On our next day we had some tuna tartare after we walked along the beach in Venice and tried out some strawberry donuts in the afternoon before heading to a Vietnamese restaurant in the evening. The third day was all about barbecue and finally our fourth day of our “culinary journey for our taste buds” was all about Street food as we were going to a street food festival one day before New Years Eve.

Between our food journeys we visited Downtown, the Walk of Fame, the Hollywood Sign, the Griffith Observatory, Venice Beach, the California Science Center, the Candy Can Lane and we took a ride through Beverly Hills just to realize that we didn’t want to live there.

So finally it was New Years Eve. Again. For me it felt like it was just yesterday that I went to Flea’s party in his house in Malibu together with Josh. Although Molly asked me to celebrate with Eric and some of their friends in a rented house in Malibu Lara and I decided against it. Instead we got us some tickets for Brody Dalle’s New Years Eve concert in Fonda Theatre. We had luck because it was said that it was already sold out but because of a production mistake there were a few more tickets left. But before heading to the Hollywood  Boulevard we had some homemade pizza and a delicious rosé wine. We drank a lot of wine in the last days, didn’t we? Well, we were still young and had fun.

“It’s crazy that the year is already over. I mean, it feels like it has just begun” Lara said when we were having dinner. “Totally. I’m still questioning how time flies so fast. It feels like it was just yesterday that I started working at the school” “We’re getting old I think” Lara laughed. “No! Don’t say that! I don’t wanna feel old. I’m still feeling very young actually. I don’t know why….maybe it’s because now I’m single and I don’t care. I love it! I just wanna live my life, have fun, meet new people….that’s all!” “It’s great to see that after all these things that happened in the last year, you’re still positive.” “Why not?” “Well….your granny died, Josh broke up….there are a lot of things that could let you feel miserable” “Yes they could but I stopped caring so much. I still miss my granny but I know that she wouldn’t want me to be sad about her death. Instead she would tell me to go out and party tonight. And that’s what I do. Together with my best friend” I smiled at Lara and we clinked glasses again. It felt good to be with her on that day of the year. I missed her so much. We didn’t see each other for nearly a year but now she was here, in person. The real Lara. Not the ‘I think your camera is frozen’-Lara I met on Skype during the last year. She was real and it was good to have some deep conversations with her in the last days.

“So….I just texted Leon and wished him a happy new year because in Germany is already 2015!” Lara told me. “What is he doing?” “He’s celebrating with some friends. His brother is visiting him right now and I think they have a lot of fun drinking beer and watching some English football matches” “Sounds good….are you feeling sad that you don’t spend it with him?” “No….not really. I mean, it’s just a day in the year. Nothing special. Like Valentines Day” “I hate it” “Me too! All this crazy romantic stuff. Guys buy pink roses to give it to their girlfriends and their girlfriends buy red lingerie to surprise their boyfriends. After all it’s the consumption industry who’s celebrating the day because many people are buying stupid romantic stuff” Lara complained. “You’re right….I never liked it and never will be I guess. I don’t even know what I did last year on Valentines Day….oh right! I was still in Berlin while Josh was on tour and I think the only thing we did was texting. I texted him “Happy Valentines Day” with the shit emoji and he was laughing hard I guess.” “You two were sometimes so crazy. I didn’t understand your humor all the time but to me it seems you shared the same kind of humor” “We did….most of the time” I said while putting a necklace on. “You look gorgeous!” Lara let me know before we were ready to leave my apartment to hit the night. “Thanks” “Honestly Eileen, this black leather skirt, your boots and this white skinny shirt look so good on you, if I would be a man I would do anything to get in your pants tonight!” she joked. “But“ I responded. “Since I’m going out with my best friend I won’t end up with a guy” “Tzzz, you can do it! I don’t care if I have to get home alone. If it’s a hot guy who is hitting on you then I’m fine. You should have fun!” “No….I don’t want to“ “By the way did you dye your hair a bit darker?” “Yes….and finally someone noticed it!” I screamed laughing. “It’s a bit more into brown copper” I told her. “It looks very pretty!” “Thank you!” I smiled and finally our cab arrived to bring us to Hollywood.  “I never thought that I would spend New Years Eve in Hollywood some day” Lara joked as we were standing in line to see the show tonight. “See, life can always surprise you” “Definitely! And I thought the best surprise on my trip were your Lakers tickets!” she said. As a late Christmas gift I gave Lara and me two tickets for the Lakers game in January. She was a big fan! Her brother showed her the Lakers as a child and since then both of them followed every season of the team and it was one of her biggest dreams to go to a Lakers game. Unfortunately we would sit very far away from the field since the tickets are very expansive but we would be there. Finally we entered the Fonda Theatre and bought us some drinks. It was always the first thing we did when we were attending a concert – drinks first. Today there was a special menu so you don’t only get beer and soft drinks, you also could get some cocktails and long drinks. So we first had a Gin Tonic and later a Long Island Ice Tea.

Before Brody hit the stage a punk rock band from Oakland opened the concert. They played some good stuff and people already started to dance in the end of their set. Finally the blonde singer entered the stage. I really liked her, she had a fantastic harsh voice and seemed to be one of the last typical punk rock girls. Not to mention her perfect marriage with Josh Homme! Since it was New Years Eve her husband and even the kids were here at the theatre. I spotted them next to the stage. Josh Homme was standing there together with Taylor Hawkins and his wife. Wow, so many rockstars who were celebrating New Years Eve at the same place than Lara and me! But Brody wouldn’t play during midnight, her set was over at 10pm. She thanked the audience and introduced her band before playing the last two songs. One of them just hit me on an emotional side. I loved it although I’ve never heard it before.

  “I've travelled all around the world and the loneliest place is where you are I don't miss you much at all, Somehow the pain of losing you has let me go That empty space you left has grown roses out of shit and one thing's for sure

I don't need your love”

While Brody Dalle was singing this slow song I was looking around the venue a last time and after gazing at the chandeliers in the middle of the club my look suddenly stopped when I saw a person I knew. Josh. He was standing on the other side of the stage. But he wasn’t on his own, needless to say there was Chloe standing next to him. Seriously, why did I have to see him? There were at least 2000 people in the club but I had to spot my ex with his new girlfriend? Why universe, why? I immediately looked away but after a few moments I couldn’t resist and looked back at him. Now he was looking back at me, a Lakers beanie on his head. While Chloe was still looking at Brody and her band Josh didn’t stop looking at me. Okay, seriously, what went wrong here? I noticed Lara’s hand on my arm. Seemed like she wanted to show me who was standing in our field of view.

  “How are you? Where have you been? I couldn't care less, Do you know what I mean? Unrequited squandered love, I'm just another face upon the wall of fail Dude, I don't wanna talk, all the words you say only hurt

I don't need your love” (Brody Dalle - I Don’t Need Your Love https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ6hEn-j2wU)

I hated him. I hated him for being here. I hated him for ruining my perfect New Years Eve concert with Lara and Brody Dalle! What did he have to do here? Chloe looked bored and he didn’t pay attention at the stage but instead couldn’t stop looking at me. What the fuck Klinghoffer??? I noticed that I got very angry. I couldn’t stop looking at him either although I wanted to stop it. When Brody started playing her last song “Don’t Mess With Me” – which to me sounded very ironically standing here looking at Josh – I decided to leave. Without telling Lara a word I left and she followed me without asking. When we arrived at the crowded streets of Hollywood Boulevard I finally could breathe again.

“It was Josh, right?” she asked me. I nodded. “I couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t stand looking at him and his perfectly girlfriend” “But he didn’t do anything with her, didn’t he?” “No….she was looking at the stage while he was looking at…” ”You” “Yes….“ I sighed. “I’m sorry that I left earlier” “No Eileen, you don’t have to apologize. It’s totally fine. I can understand you and your feelings. You want to forget him, especially on New Years Eve, and then you see him with his chick” ”It’s like every time I try to get rid of him he appears again in my life. It sucks” I told her. “I know….and that’s why we’re leaving now” she suddenly said and stopped a cab. 

One hour later we arrived at the Griffith Observatory again. We were wandering the way to get a good view at the city. “Wow, it was such a good idea to come here again” I said overwhelmed by the view. It wasn’t only Los Angeles by night, it was Los Angeles at New Years Eve.  “This compensates for the weird situation at the concert!” I said while sitting at a rock. “I can’t believe we did it. We just left the venue and the party we had tickets for” Lara laughed. “Sorry….it’s my fault.” “No….it’s totally okay….look at this amazing view! We wouldn’t have it at the theatre!” ”Definitely not!” ”I mean….we should thank Josh for appearing again because without him being there we wouldn’t be here now” Lara joked. She was opening her bag and took out a bottle of wine. “No way!” I screamed. “You didn’t do it! Where did you get the bottle?” “It was in my bag the whole time” she grinned. “But….there was a security check at the entrance of the theatre. Nobody noticed it?” “No….it was in a side pocket!” “Bright Spark!” I laughed. Lara was opening the bottle and looked at her watch. “Only eight minutes to go!” “Wow….the year is finally over. It has been crazy but also very good to me.” I said a bit lost in thoughts. “For me the year was amazing” Lara resumed. “It was! But so many strange things were happening” “For example?” “I almost did drugs just to forget Josh! I was so sad that night at the club in Hollywood….” ”But you didn’t” “Yes….because Anthony saved me” I told her. “If two years ago someone would’ve told me that some day I would almost take drugs in a club in Hollywood but Anthony Kiedis would stop me doing it I would’ve laughed so loud I guess” “Yeah….it sounds very crazy to be honest” “I mean….I don’t know what would’ve shocked me more: the fact that I would take drugs or that I knew Anthony Kiedis” “Well….” Lara sighed and laughed. “Only one minute! So, what are you want to get rid of in the new year?!” “Hmmm….let me think….Josh!” “Good….I will get rid of the fact that I must be a grown up now. I don’t want it but I am.” “Tzz, being a grown up is overrated. We’re grown ups for the rest of our lives so why not feeling young today?” I chuckled. “So….ten seconds”. “Eileen, I just want you to know that I’m very happy at the moment. Sitting here on the rock spending this night with you is the best thing in a long time!” Lara told me smiling and Ithanked her. “Finally” I yelled. “Happy New Year” we both screamed.

We were hugging each other for quite some time and finally drank our wine Lara brought with her. It was the greatest moment in a long time. I felt so free sitting at this rock in Griffith Park looking at the city of angels.

“It’s so amazing” Lara said while gazing at the city lights. We saw some fireworks and people obviously celebrating on the streets. I wondered how the party would’ve end up if we would’ve stayed at the concert. After Brody’s gig there would’ve been a party with a DJ. Sure we wanted to hit the dancefloor but this place where we were sitting right now was even better. “Do you know this song?” Lara asked and showed me “City of Angles” by 30 Seconds To Mars. “Ugh, Jared Leto is a jerk” “Why?” “He just….is a jerk” “But this song is so amazing” 

Yes, she was right. This song was amazing and it let me feel even freer. This was my hometown I was looking at. I spend many New Years Eve in LA but never did it that way. Never sat on a rock in the hills watching the city partying. I had to admit that I felt so lucky and good right now I didn’t want this moment to end. 

“So….Do you think you will live here forever?” Lara suddenly asked into the silence between us. “Uhm….wow” this question was intense. “I don’t know. I hope so. I really like LA” “I’d love to live here some day. I think it’s a dream for many people to make it here, isn’t it?” “Yes….but if you’re born and raised here – well at least I was raised here – you don’t really care about it. I mean, spending my childhood, my teenager years and my college years here didn’t let me feel overwhelmed. It was just LA for me and it still is. Although I have to admit that last year I experienced some new places of the city” “Because of Josh?” “Yes…” “I know the feeling. My ex and I have so many places we visited very often and they always remember me of him. I still can’t go to this pub in Kreuzberg where we get to know each other. I still can’t go to Mauerpark without thinking about him because we were there like every weekend at the summer. Although I’m happy with Leon now I can’t forget the memories I share with my ex” “It’s so strange how some people can change your life forever. No matter if they were a part of your life for a long time or not. No matter if you’re still with them or not. Even if you haven’t heard from them in years you can trip over one place you shared with the person and finally it all comes back.” I said while thinking about Josh. “Yeah….definitely. Life can be so strange but at the same time so great. I love my life at the moment” Lara said. “Me too. When my granny died I felt lonely and lost but now I’m feeling much better. I’m happy with my job, my apartment, my friends, my family….my life” I resumed. 

“Only the perfect man is missing” Lara kidded. “Na…I don’t care anymore. Maybe I should stay single for a while just to get along with myself” “To get to know yourself?” “Yes….the Eileen I used to know changed a bit in the last year. She experienced a lot, some things were good, others were bad. So maybe I should spend some time only with her” “Sounds like a plan” Lara said. “I hope no one will crash your plan” “Like Josh today?” “Maybe” “It’s strange that he always appears when I thought I have to forget him but….it just happens. That’s life” “Maybe you can’t get away from everything” “You can. You only have to be strong!” I said. “Someday you’ll meet someone who makes you even happier than all the other guys before and who knows….maybe you start a family together, move into a fancy cute house and live a happily ever after” Lara joked. “I can’t imagine it happening in the next years” “Why? You’ll never know” “Yes….we’ll never know. But I don’t have any plans to start a family soon” “Didn’t you ever have plans about it?” “No… ”Not even with Josh?” “No….he doesn’t want to have kids. At least that’s my impression” “Okay…” ”He didn’t even want to move in with me” “But now moved in with Chloe….why?” “I remember Eric telling me a suggestion he has about Josh.” “What did he say?” “He thinks Josh was afraid of our relationship. Afraid and scared that it would get more serious. He prefers running away from his feelings Eric told me” “But I thought you two were happy” “Yeah….I don’t know” I said looking back at Downtown, LA. How impressing! "Now Chloe is his choice and I have to accept it.” “If you say so….” ”After all he’s a cheater and I don’t know if I could trust him again. I know it’s strange to say it since I was the person he was cheating with but….if someone is cheating once he can do it again, right?” “I wouldn’t say so. It was you, not some chick he just got to know” ”Hmmm….” ”There was a connection between you two and that lead you to hook up again. It’s just my opinion but I think there is a difference in cheating with some random person than cheating with an ex.” “But it’s cheating. No matter who the person is you do it with” “I know….” ”Whatever” I sighed and drank another sip of wine.

“You’ll find someone. I’m sure” Lara said. “Thank you” I smiled at her. “And someday I’m gonna be the perfect godmother of your sweet little children” she grinned. “Maybe…” I said lost in thoughts. What if Josh and I would still be together? Where would we be now? Would we already live together? Would we plan our future? Would we only take each day as it comes? “Whatever, look, the sun is rising!” Lara suddenly said pointing at the sky. It was. It was the first sunrise of the year and we were watching it sitting on a giant rock near Griffith Observatory. What a great way to start a new year.

____________ “Lost in the city of angels Down in the comfort of strangers I found myself in the fire burned hills In the land of a billion lights Bought my fate straight from hell Second sight has paid off well For a mother, a brother and me The silver of a lake at night The hills of Hollywood on fire A boulevard of hope and dreams Streets made of desire Lost in the city of angels”

[sorenvlad-blog]

It was good to be back in the states you know?  Though his time in London had a mixture of ups and downs overall he would consider the time spent there to be time well spent but nothing beats being in the states in his mind.  The former Dr. Soren Vladimiresku had a few debts to settle before he could breath a sigh of relief and not need to worry about his new apartment getting blown up. Luckily money can make a lot of people forget a lot of things and Soren paid back what he owed with interest and the understanding that future transgressions wouldn’t be forgotten so easily from him or from ‘them’. With his things unpacked and put away Soren had one craving that needed sating. He was about a week behind on gym time but luckily he found a small owner operated twenty-four hour gym with everything from free weights to machines and even punching bags and a boxing ring! Even better that the owner understood what Soren was and knew well of the world beyond the surface.  Tonight was a slow night and aside from the owner sitting behind the counter browsing the internet Soren was the only on there. A sharp exhale was sent through his teeth as he struck the hanging heavy bag with practiced strikes in various locations around the bag. The martial skills always appealed to Soren because of two major factors, first being that given his lineage Soren was bound to be a man of violent action, the second being that no matter how long one practiced to truly master them was neigh impossible. A playlist of various genres ranging angry sounding heavy metal to bass dropping EDM blasted through his headphones. His gym attire was typical for the Romanian born, American raised son of Satan. Black low cut Chuck Taylor sneakers, Black gym shorts and a tight fitting, long-sleeved Under Armour shirt. His hands were wrapped in red boxing wraps that showed signs of being heavily used and Soren should really own stock in Everlast at this point. As sweat dropped from his body with each movement against the bag he would normally feel at ease and more relaxed in a mental sense but something was off. It was that feeling that something or someone had made you their focus. Soren knew his debts were paid but there were many who didn’t care what their bosses said and were of the ‘blood for blood’ mindset.  Stepping away from the punching bag he sat down on a bench with his duffel bag at his feet as he searched for the pocket that held a bottle of water. Even a half demon like him needed to keep hydrated right? Almost on cue a man dressed in casual business attire walked into the gym and passed the counter with no regard to the man behind the counter. Bright blue eyes locked on Soren as he approached stopping just a few feet away. A heavy New York accent broke the silence of the gym. “ I heard you were back.”  “ Well it’s good to know you ain’t deaf Vinny.” Soren always did have a way with words. “ You know there’s people who want your head after the stunts you pulled. Some of these people might not care that the bosses say live and let live. “ “ Yeah? Well they might wanna rethink any grudges they have. Either way they are gonna end up losing. Only difference between me and your bosses is that they ‘might’ let you live..” Soren had been unrolling his hand wraps and didn’t bother to look at Vinny until now. Soren’s dark brown eyes met with Vinny’s “ I won’t” The Italian scoffed. “ You can’t fight us all you Romanian fuck...”  “ You know, your brother said the same thing when he and his boys paid me a visit back in the day. He died crying like a bitch and begging for his life. I’m sure you were told why his funeral was closed casket.  Unlike him you’re smart Vinny so do yourself and go home. I’m sure Mama Povetti has a Cannoli with your name on it. “ Now visibly mad Vinny took off his coat, unbottoned and rolled his sleeves and loosened his tie. “ That’s it! Fuck the bosses no one talks to me like that. Get up you bastard.”  Laughing some. “ C’mon now Vinny, I know who my father is but last I heard Mama was as loose as your sister back in the day.” Leaning over some so he could see the counter. “ Hey Mark! Talk a walk man. I’ll pay for any damages”  Mark knew better than to protest so he simply nodded and made his way out. “I’ll just go grab some coffee. “ And with that he was out. “You know this isn’t going to end well for you Vinny. You might want call your boss and have him talk some sense into you. I’m sure Your mother wouldn’t like to out live both of her sons” Soren stood up walked toward the ring.  “ Fuck that! No one talks to me or any Povetti like that. No one! I’ve been taking boxing classes since you left. This ain’t gonna be easy for you.”  Laughing again. “ Boxing?! oooooh now I’m scared. “ Taking off the medallion that always hung from his neck and left it hanging from one of the ring posts and climbed into the ring. “ Tell you what Vinny. I won’t kill you this time.” Walking over to the ring timer he set it for one , 4 minute round “ If you can last this one round I will apologize for insulting your family and I will apologize to your mother directly for killing your brother”  “ Fine. You might as well get ready because You’re going down”  “ May the odds be forever in your favor but I’m going to show you the same thing I showed your brother and when you limp back home to dress your wounds, Call your boss and ask him for some details as to why we agreed to leave each other alone.”  With Vinny now in the ring and ready to fight the buzzer when off and Soren had that famous shit eating grin as the Italian approached. “ C’mon Rocky let’s see what you got. I’ll give you the first two minutes before I swing back.” Vinny had just about enough of Soren and his ego and held nothing back as he swung at Soren in a typical fashion for someone who took boxing classes every other weekend. Each attempted strike was easily avoided or blocked. “ Vinny, your foot work is awful and your wrists are weak. You might wanna hire a new instructor after you heal up.”  “ Shut up you loud-mouthed Romanian fuck!” Soren kept his eyes on the clock between Vinny’s punches and as soon as three minutes had gone Soren went on the attack. Ducking under a half-assed right hook from Vinny, Soren sank his fist deep into the man’s stomach pushing the air out of Vinny’s lungs and quickly followed up with a rapid strikes working their way up the man’s torso just hard enough to hurt but not enough to break any bones or cause internal bleeding. The final strike in Soren’s return was a Sparta style front kick sending the angry Italian into a corner of the ring. “ Now that I have your attention. Let me show you what your brother saw just before he died.” Soren’s eyes went completely black and the air around him started to get very hot. A dark mist started to appear around Soren’s hands for a moment before it clung to his skin like wet ink and grew half way up his forearms like tendrils and solidified into a black chitin with raised areas over his knuckles as some form or gauntlets. As he spoke his voice not only grew deeper but seemed to have a double as if two beings were speaking from the same mouth. “ There is a world far beyond your understanding. In that world I am the monster under your bed. I am why you humans fear the dark and sleep with the covers over your head.” If Vinny’s eyes could get any wider the would fall from his skull. “W.....what......what are you?” He was frozen in fear despite his brain screaming at him to run away.  The lights began to flicker as the gym began to smell of brimstone. Between the quick moments of darkness Soren had covered the distance between him and Vinny. Grabbing the Italian by the throat and effortlessly lifting him off his feet. “ I’m the boogeyman “ A grin revealing teeth that had sharpened to fangs.  Vinny began to struggle, trying desperately to get away only for Soren to throw him across the ring into the other corner. Before the man could come to his senses and run Soren again was on the attack only this time each of Soren’s strikes were meant to cause crippling pain. The poor Italian was only standing from the force of Soren’s punches at this point and just before Soren could deliver the blow that would send Vinny to dream land for a few hours the buzzer rang to signal the end of the round and just like that Soren was back to normal. No black eyes, no chitin covered hands and no double voice.  Vinny sank to the floor so fraught with pain he made no sounds but only stared in absolute fear of the man before him. Pointing to the door Soren looked with disdain at Vinny. “ Prey you never make this mistake again and get the fuck out of my sight before I reset the time....GO! NOW!” Those last two words roared from Soren’s mouth and seems to snap Vinny out of it long enough for him to fight the pain long enough to fall from the ring and lumber out of the gym and down the sidewalk with the occasional stumble.  “ Everyone thinks they’er a badass..” Retrieving his medallion and placing it back around his neck the demonic energy focused again within the special stones. Now that Soren had gotten his work out for the evening he collected his things, put a T-shirt on over Under Armour and carried his bag by the shoulder strap while sipping on that bottle of water.  Passing Mark as he walked through the doors he grinned. “ No damage this time.” Mark nodded  “ You don’t suppose they’ll come back and ask me any questions do you?”  Soren simply shook his head “ No Vinny knows better at this point and his bosses might do worse to him than I did. It’s not their style to harm innocent people anyway. Have a good one Mark” With that said Soren walked off to find a bite to eat and some coffee. It was good to be back in the states.  [End]

[nighting-gale17]

seven for a secret never to be told

Barely getting this Thanksgiving fic in by the skin of my teeth- which is unsurprising for me.

I hope you guys enjoy thisI just wanna give a HUGE shoutout to @sailingthecs I probably wouldn't have been able to get this to a place I'm okay with posting if it wasn't for their encouragement and cheering me on <3 thank you Bon!!!!!!

Buck isn’t sure why everyone is under the impression that he can’t speak Spanish.

He would have found it amusing if it wasn’t so annoying. He lives in Los Angeles for fuck's sake, and he works with the public daily—not to mention the summers he spent down in Ecuador bartending. And, yet, standing here at the Diaz Thanksgiving party, Eddie’s family spoke freely of their opinions of him right in front of his face as if he didn’t understand everything they said.

“No puedes ser serio.” An annoyingly high-pitched voice said behind him, the tone making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “¿Visto lo que hizo antes? Menos mal que es bonito.”

Someone else behind him giggled in agreement. “Oí que es un poco playboy.”

“¿Crees que Eddie compartirá?” The other woman purred, making Buck’s anxiety start to climb. “Me encantaría conseguir un pedazo de eso. Una vez una prostituta, siempre una prostituta.”

Buck bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything, trying to ignore the way his hands were starting to sweat as he grabbed two beers from the cooler in front of him. He knew there were people in Eddie’s family that weren’t too keen about the two of them dating—he knew they’d tolerated Shannon because she had given them Christopher but it seemed they couldn’t even try with him, despite his best efforts.

Buck shook the thoughts from his head and carefully maneuvered his way past the two women openly staring at him and through the kitchen. He desperately tried to ignore the woman’s words despite the way they seemed to echo around in his head. They were wrong. He wasn’t that person anymore. He  wasn’t .

“Esto es el novio de Edmundo.” He heard someone speak behind him, the disgust in his voice distinguishable in any language.

He kept his gaze down as he moved through the house and into the back yard, letting out a breath of relief he hadn’t realized he had been holding when he spotted Eddie across the yard. He managed to make it to his boyfriend’s side in record time, shoving Eddie’s beer in his hand and practically plastering himself against his side.

“Well, hello to you too,” Eddie said, amused until he took in Buck’s rigid stance and the tension he was holding in his shoulders. “Babe, what’s wrong?"

“Nothing it’s—” Buck cleared his throat, shaking his head and picking at the label on his beer to avoid eye contact. “It’s nothing. I’m fine. Just—a lot of people here.” he said after a moment, internally cringing at the weak excuse.

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of family that decided to come up this year,” Eddie said, somewhat apologetically. He wrapped his arm around Buck’s waist and pressed a soft kiss against his temple. “We can leave if it’s getting too much, cariño.”

Buck closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing into Eddie’s side. “No, I’m alright. You haven’t seen your family in ages, anyway.” Not since Shannon’s funeral. Eddie deserved to be able to enjoy his family’s company without the depressing atmosphere hanging over them.”

The entire Diaz family was gathered at Eddie’s Abuela's house for Thanksgiving this year. When Eddie had warned Buck about the size of his family, he’d brushed it off, but now he was seriously regretting it. He was not prepared for the sheer amount of family Eddie seemed to have that made the trip to LA this year. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, nephews, and grandparents—Buck didn’t even know it was possible to be related to so many people.

They came from all over the place too. Since Eddie is half-Swedish and half-Mexican, there was an interesting mix of culture at this particular thanksgiving. He had family from the states, Mexico, Bolivia, Ecuador, and he was sure there were more places that just flew over his head.

It was definitely a certain kind of culture shock to Buck. He’d spent the last who knows how many holidays alone and now? Well, as grateful as he is to have this little family he’s started to build with Eddie, sometimes it did get a little intimidating.

Buck spotted more members of Eddie’s family openly staring at them and whispering to themselves. He sighed, turning his head and murmuring into Eddie’s ear, “I don’t think your family likes me very much.”

He felt more than saw Eddie frown. “What do you mean? My tia and abuela love you.”

“Just… some things I’ve heard them saying.” Buck muttered, reluctant to go into any details. He felt himself relax a little when Eddie’s squeezed his hip comfortingly and ran his thumb over the small strip of exposed skin above the waistband of his jeans. “For some reason, everyone here is under the impression I can’t understand what they’re saying about me.” he huffed a little. “As if I would meet my boyfriend’s family without understanding their first language.”

“I’m sorry, mi amor.” Eddie’s voice was tinged with anger and regret. “My family is very… traditional, still, in some ways. I’d hoped they wouldn’t be rude enough to say anything to your face but it looks like I was wrong.”

“Ah, Eddie, Evan, there you are.” Buck felt a genuine smile spread across his face as he looked up and saw Eddie’s abuela walking toward them, a sleepy-looking Christopher at her side. “I’m glad I found you. This one looks like he’s ready to fall asleep on his feet.”

“About to fall into a food coma, buddy?” Buck asked teasingly, bending down and picking Christopher up in his arms. “Did you eat the entire turkey?” he asked, a fake frown on his face as he pretended to struggle lifting Christopher up. “You’re lucky I’m so strong!”

Christopher giggled and wrapped his arms around Buck’s neck, nestling his head in the crook of his neck. “Y-You’re super strong!”

Buck hummed in agreement and when he glanced over at Eddie he felt his heart squeeze tightly in his chest. His boyfriend was staring at him fondly, a soft smile on his face and Buck couldn’t help but smile back at him. It wasn’t until they heard sniffling and broke their gaze to find Abuela—alarmingly— blinking back tears and dabbing delicately at the corners of her eyes.

“Abuela, ¿que es?” Eddie asked, suddenly concerned. ”What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Abuela said, sniffing a little before smiling at the two of them, her eyes shining with unshed tears and happiness. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you this happy, mijo.” She smacked his arm and pointed her finger at him sternly. “Don’t you dare let him go.”

“Ow!” Eddie whined, rubbing the spot on his arm his abuela smacked before quickly dropping the act at the unimpressed look she gave. “Of course, abuela,” he assured her.

“And I’ve missed seeing these baby blues around,” Abuela told Buck, gently tapping her hand against Buck’s cheek and making him blush. “I expect you here bright and early next weekend for our cooking lesson.”

“Si, señora,” Buck said obediently, a grin tugging at the edges of his mouth.

Abuela chuckled and shook her head. “Cheeky. Make sure you boys eat enough food before you leave.” she chided before she walked off to greet the other guests, muttering something about skinny grandsons under her breath.

“Cooking lessons?” Eddie repeated, his eyebrows scrunching up adorably in confusion.

“Yeah.” Buck bit back a smile. “She refuses to write down her recipes and told me the only way I would get them is if I came over and made them enough I’ve memorized them and write it down myself.”

“Is that how you were able to make that delicious flan the other night?” Eddie wondered.

“Yeah.” Buck grinned proudly, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He opened his mouth to say something else but the words died on his tongue when he heard someone behind him speak in Spanish about him—about his looks, his perceived lack of intelligence.

Although Eddie looked like he was going to start a fight right here in the middle of his abuela’s backyard, instead he just clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at someone behind Buck’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go,” he said stiffly, running his hand down Buck’s back. “Christopher’s already half asleep and I think we’ve had enough family socializing for one evening.”

Buck wasn’t about to argue with that. He carefully held Christopher in his arms while they started to head out, the young boy dozing against his shoulder as Eddie said his goodbyes. It wasn’t until they made it to the front door, saying one last goodbye to Eddie’s tia and abuela that Buck paused, the itch to say something to Eddie’s family too strong to ignore any longer.

“Gracias por esta hermosa cena,” he spoke to Eddie’s abuela, quietly enough to not disturb Christopher but loud enough everyone could hear him. His accent was smooth after several summers of being immersed in the language, and he couldn’t help but feel a little smug at the shocked looks on the faces of Eddie’s family. “No puedo esperar a ver a todos de nuevo en Navidad.”

The quiet gasps and mutters that spread through the crowd of relatives helped ease some of the hurt and bitterness in his chest—he really couldn’t bring himself to care if he was being a little petty. They should know to never judge a book by its cover.

He leaned down and gently kissed Eddie’s abuela on the cheek goodbye before he turned and followed his boyfriend out the door. “Did you see the look on their faces?” Buck asked, unable to bite back a grin.

Eddie shook his head in amusement, pressing a quick kiss against Buck’s cheek as he lead them to the car. “I’ve got a feeling the next family gathering will be a lot better.”

[deanswaywardgirl]

The Most Painful of Heartbreaks

A/N: This isn’t necessarily spoilers, its just my anxiety of Supernatural ending and what I’m afraid is gonna happen. The pain Faith feels, I think, is the pain I’m gonna feel when the credits roll. Brace yourselves, readers, it’s a bit brutal.

The pain of losing her boys was tearing her apart inside and all she wanted to do was die and end the excruciating pain for good. She curled into a ball as if it was hold her together, and closed her eyes, the sobs wracking her body. She knew she had guests there in the bunker with her: Castiel, Jack, Bobby, Jodie, Donna, Claire, Alex, and other hunter allies of Sam and Dean's, and she knew they knew she was grieving, but she didn't have the energy to leave her room. The only noise that accompanied her was her crying until there was a knock at the door before it opened to reveal her favorite Michigan sheriff, Donna Hanscum. "Heya, hun, how you holding up?" she asked, her cheeks red and her eyes puffy. Guilt struck Faith hard. Of course her friends were mourning the loss of Sam and Dean Winchester; it wasn't just her. Everybody at the bunker had lost them. "I'm not," Faith cried, sitting up and letting her eyes fall into her lap. Donna nodded as she crossed to the bed and sat on the edge in front of Faith, taking her hand. "I know, I know. We miss 'em too. You don't have to go through this alone. We're all here." "I know, Donna, I'm sorry. It's just so hard to get out of this bed, knowing they're not in the library. Knowing Dean's not eating a plate full of bacon in the kitchen. Or Sam constantly doing random research in the library." A small smile graced Faith's lips before it fell again, her bottom lip quivering. "They'll never do it again. Any of it." Donna sniffled and gently pulled the girl into a hug, crying with her. "You know, its okay to be sad. It's even okay to be angry. But I need you to know, it's not okay to blame yourself. It wasn't your fault, you understand me?" "Donna, at this point, I don't care who's fault it was. My boys are gone, and I'll never see them again. And because of it, I just wanna die. I just want to go to sleep and never wake up. It's only been two days and I'm already done with this pain that's only gonna last forever if I let it." "You know that's not what they would want," a new voice entered, Jodie standing in the doorway. Faith and Donna glanced up at her and Faith bowed her head and closed her eyes. "That's not what Dean would want. They'd want you to live your life. Be happy." Faith looked up at her, shaking her head. "I don't know how to be happy without them. They were my family, my boys. Sam and Dean were everything to me." Jodie knelt down in front of her. "Do you know how I met them?" she asked, tears in her eyes, earning a nod from the younger girl. "Your husband and your son died in the apocalypse." "That's right. And I was right where you are right now. I was a mess. I didn't want to see anyone, I wanted to die. My family was dead and I had lost everything that had ever mattered to me. But I made a new family. And now, it's because of them that I get up in the morning. They keep me going." Faith swallowed hard and shook her head. "I can't replace the Winchesters. I could never love someone the way I loved Dean. He was my home. My safe place." "I'm not saying you should ever replace them. But you know, you have me and the girls. You have Donna. You have Castiel and Jack out there. Bobby's here. They didn't just come here for Cas and Jack, they're here for you too. We all love you, Faith. You're our family too." Faith nodded and licked her lips. "Can you two come with me?" she asked, looking between the two sheriffs, who nodded. Faith stood from the bed and walked out of the room towards the library. She hesitated before anyone in the library could see her, and took a deep shaky breath, more tears falling, then walked into the room and looked around at the occupants, who had grown silent at her arrival. Castiel caught her eye and moved to the front of the crowd. "Faith.." he said softly, then moved toward her and engulfed her in a tight hug, cradling her head to his shoulder as the girl cried into his shoulder, her knees giving way before he fell with her. It was a moment before she pulled back and walked up the stairs. "Faith..Faith!" Castiel called before following her. Jodie and Donna followed as well, the three of them following her around to the back of the bunker where two crosses were standing, one reading Sam Winchester and the other, Dean Winchester. Faith fell to her knees between them and screamed her pain before laying down and crying, pounding her fists into the ground. "HOW COULD YOU?!?!? YOU SAID YOU'D NEVER LEAVE ME!" she yelled at them through her tears, pulling the grass out of the ground. A pair of arms wrapped around her. "NO! LEMME GO! THEY PROMISED ME!" Her sobbing grew harder. "THEY PROMISED ME!" Jodie held her tightly, her own tears falling down her cheeks as she set her  chin on top of her head and rocked her back and forth.

Hours later, the girl had cried herself to sleep in Jodie's arms and Castiel had carried her back inside to the room she had shared with Dean, and covered her with one of Dean's shirts. Her, Cas, Bobby, and Donna sat in the kitchen at the table, not sure what to do. "Would she do it? Would she kill herself if it meant seeing them again?" Donna asked, sniffling. Castiel sniffled as well and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "I'm almost positive she would. I've never seen her in this much pain before. I mean, they've died before, but they've always come back. But this time, she knows there's no bringing them back and that's the problem. She wants them back, but she knows after saving the world as many times as Sam and Dean have, they deserved to rest. She can't bring herself to be selfish, no matter how much it hurts. Their ashes are in her room, one on each nightstand. She'd insisted on it after the funeral." He wiped his eyes once more and sighed, swallowing hard. "Honestly, I'm afraid to leave her alone. I feel like she'll either find a hunt and let herself be killed, or she'll do it in her room. Which is why I posted Jack in her room to make sure she doesn't." "Nice try, Castiel," Faith said from the doorway. "But I'm not an idiot and I'm sure as hell not selfish. I miss my boys so much, it physically hurts to breathe. But I won't bring them back. After everything they've done for this damn planet, they deserve paradise. And I won't be the one to take it away from them, or interrupt it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna take a drive to clear my head. I can't sit in this bunker anymore." She turned to walk away when Castiel grabbed her arm. Faith turned and pinned him against the wall with an angel blade to his throat, her eyes glowing blue. "Do not touch me again." She backed away and turned to the two sheriffs, nodding. "Thank you for everything, but I'm fine. You can go." She walked away before they could say anything.

TO BE CONTINUED....