#im not lying i have never ever fucking lied (crossing my fingers)

[iocity]

Every time an artist draws Usopp with actual visible melanin, two queers get married. So please… if you’re not homophobic draw him black 🥺🥺

[offmychest-official]

in a week itll be a year. i should be over it by now i should be over it. when all of this went down i was so ready and willing to accept your judgement when you passed it, so used to being the one in the wrong, the abandoned. but everything you said was in the vaguest terms. i couldnt figure out what i did, and my lack of memories didnt help. you didnt tell me what i did. you made me disappear. i cut myself down as small as possible so i would never cross your mind, never show up in your life again. you did not afford me the same sensibility. i spent the better part of a year terrified of social situations cos i didnt know what i did wrong, didn't know what to stop doing, didn't know what signs to look for or what thinking to change. i spent the better part of a year seeing people do unimaginably worse than what i felt i did + still loved + still cared for + still helped, though i can't be sure, cos i dont remember. maybe i did do something even worse? maybe i am the monster? after all, i'm "sickening". im "fucked in the head and stupid for it". i spent the better part of a year walking into narratives about second chances + forgiveness, completely + utterly convinced i was too monstrous to be given the grace of either. but the more i try to grasp at the memories i do have + the memories of what you said. hypocrite. you all called me a hypocrite. you called me a hypocrite for not communicating. all i can remember is trying my best to communicate. trying my best to clear things up. actually going to people with my misconceptions was a huge fucking step for me, + every time i was wrong i apologized. but you. you never came to me. you never came to me with a single thing, not even once. you never said anything i did hurt you. i kept asking, if i do something wrong you'll tell me right? you'll tell me? you always went of course i would. you never did. i had to find out after the fact that you didn't. that you kept lying and lying and lying and lying. i remember clearly, a diamond of an intact memory, asking you, "you'll be honest with me, right?" you responding "of course i'll be honest." you lied and lied and lied and lied to me. you were, in fact, hurt, by things i did or said, + just never brought it up to me. ever. that you held grudges for two years before exploding on me that day when i couldn't communicate anything cos id been raped and was on benzos barely comprehending it or anything happening to me. that day i didnt kill myself cos i stepped back and thought, wait, i want to keep talking to these people more than i want to die - these people who threw me to the wolves the moment i tried to come back to their doorstep, looking for any kind of comfort from the delusion, from the relentless abuse. now i hear youre saying how you 'survived' me. youre telling everyone how terrible i was. you keep going on and on about how youre such a good friend, a good person, compassionate. i remember how i suffered while you watched uncaring. how never once did you ever message me at all without prompting, never once asked me if i was ok, never once asked about my day or why i was acting a certain way, never once asked for clarification if you misunderstood, just held a grudge. sure, you mightve asked me if i was okay once, when id gotten to the point where i could not function + was experiencing category errors + acting erratic, but the moment i deflected - wounded, finding it hard to trust, convinced you'd already made it clear earlier you didn't care - its out of your hands, can't be helped! you never once lifted a finger to help, while i was always trying to help you + see if you were alright, you hypocritical fuck and you're crying about how youre so loyal and hold onto things so hard when i know for a fact i held onto my rapist harder than you held on to me. you were all too eager to let me go! just like my rapist told me you would be. you're a fair weather friend and you don't even fucking know it

the family i come from is a toxic, caustic cesspool. i know that. i knew that. maybe i didn't realize what seemed level headed to me came off as aggressive + lashing out to other people. but you could have told me. you could have acted like a human. you could have acted like EYE was a human. but no, its so much easier to shoot the bleeding dog when it shows up on your doorstep and call it a wolf to your friends, isn't it? after all, beaten dogs don't get loving homes. they get put down. they're a danger! i want to be over this. but it hurts it hurts it hurts every time it comes back into my head i feelfeverish i feel nauseous and faint head going in circles. i am being skinned to the bone while alive i am being vivisected. i will never know what i did wrong and you will never know what happened with me. we have to live like this. closure is a myth people tell themselves exists to feel better.

.

[dapandapod]

Connecting dots

You have heard of truth spells. Now get ready for a lying curse!

Here on Ao3, where I think Im hiralious.

As per usual, things got way longer than I intended, please enjoy of the 2981 words of this stupid, in my opinion very funny and a lil antsy thing.

(repost because bot army found me and invaded and i got tired of blocking ten a day)

Geralt has seen a great deal of curses before.

Heck, he’seven been cursed before. Usually it is a truthteller one, a true classic, and no one thinks twice about it. Normally it’s easily solved after some awkward as fuck questions of some very intense teasing.

But this time there is something else going on.

Nothing he says is true.

Nothing.

Not the grass is green or the sky is blue. Not that his name is Geralt or that his favorite animals are bards.

(Bards are feral and therefore counts as animals. Not telling anyone they are his favorites though.)

It is one of those times where Geralt travels alone. Of course he does. So there is not anyone to notice, not really.

When they ask obvious things, of course he gets strange looks. It makes his life hella difficult when they ask him how much he wants to get paid, which usually end up giving him nothing. Or if they ask him if he is a witcher, and he ends up saying no.

Or on a memorable occasion, someone asks him if he eats children.

Which, of course he doesn’t.

So the curse makes him say yes. And he is chased out of the village with torches and pitchforks of doom.

On the bright side, the curse doesn’t stop him from asking questions to others. All of this could be funny. Some of it is, when people thinks he is being rude, sarcastic or joking. It could be, except Gealt prefers very much not to lie when he can.

He seeks help from a mage, but when he asks if he needs help Geralt ends up saying no. And the mage slams the door in his face.

Then his path crosses with Jaskier.

Which is both a relief and a fucking pain in the ass. Jaskier talks nonstop, he asks rhetorical questions all the time, and Geralt is trying his hardest to keep his mouth shut.

“I have heard that wyverns are not real dragons, Geralt. Is that really true?”

“No.” Geralt grits out. Fuck.

“I knew it! Because I read this poem you see and-”

Ugh.

“And then there was this old professor back in oxenfurt. I swear he has never seen a real drowner in his life. I have seen a great deal of them, no thanks to you my friend. I just don’t remember what color they have when they are young, would you fill me in here Geralt? I really would like to shut that old wheezer up.”

“Pink.”

Geralt is so frustrated. His frown is deeper set that ever before.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Huh! The more you know I suppose.” Jaskier muses, tapping a finger on his chin. “You are the expert after all.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes Geralt, this is not the time to be humble.”

“Yes it is.” Maybe, if he lies enough Jaskier will pick up on it.

But alas, Jaskier does what everyone else does.

“Geralt are you alright?”

Fuck.

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?” and oh Geralt wishes he would ask it another way.

“Yes.” He lies again. Jaskier studies him, sees his deep set frown, and lets it go.

Geralt would appreciate it any other night, but by now this is rather troublesome.

“Jaskier. I don’t need your help.” Fuck this is so frustrating.

“No, I get it Geralt. It’s alright, I will leave you be. I know I annoy you sometimes.”

“Yes you do.”

Fuck. FUCK.

The bard looks hurt and turns away. Geralt puts his head in his hands and groans. This is such a disaster.

They spend another few days awkwardly side by side.

It takes some time, but Geralt finally figures out a new strategy.

“Jaskier. I don’t want to ask you this.”

“…Alright?”

“If there was something… different with me, would you notice?” Geralt has been looking for a way to phrase this.

“I suppose? Oh no, is that why you were annoyed with me? Did you change your hair?”

“Yes. Fuck!” This is so fucking annoying. He wishes he could straight out say it, but no, why would any curse work like that?!

“You are joking right? You haven’t changed your hair in the last few decades I’ve been with you.”

Wait. Has it really been that long? Huh.

“I have.”

He really hasn’t. Maybe he should.

Is that the cost to make someone notice? Geralt sighs and looks up at the sky.

The clouds are hanging low and preparing for a real downpour. Maybe he can use that.

“Looks like the sun is coming out.” Geralt comments, looking intensely at Jaskier, hoping he will pick up on it.

“Really? Looks like rain to me.”

“Nah, I’m thinking snow tonight. It seems cold enough.”

It sure as hell doesn’t. It is in the middle of summer, and Jaskier sure is dumb if he isn’t picking up on this.

Jaskier is picking up on something, luckily.

He shifts and get right up in Geralt’s face. The bard smells nice, his intense stare is doing something to him.

“Do you want me to notice something Geralt?” Jaskier asks, studying him closely.

“No.” Geralt lies softly, heat rising to his cheeks.

It is interesting, because that is half lie, half truth. There are things he would rather Jaskier didn’t notice. Like the blush he is wearing right now for instance. Among other, similar things.

They stare at each other for a few seconds. Geralt is trying to ignore how close the bard is, focusing on how to phrase himself.

“Don’t come closer.” Geralt all but whispers, hoping the bard doesn’t hear. It slips out, and he finds it hard to understand the rules of the curse.

Jaskiers eyebrow twitch and he leans back just a little.

How does he say this the easiest way?

“Roach is a goat.” Geralt begins. Swallows. Hoping Jaskier forgets his first statement. “Bunnies can fly. The sky is green.”

“Geralt? What?” Jaskier tilts his head in confusion.

“Ask me something.” Geralt says, he is starting to feel desperate. He must look like it too, because Jaskier is looking a bit worried.

“Alright? Uh… How many fingers am I holding up?” Jaskier holds up both hands.

“Two.” Geralt lies, and finally something clicks in Jaskiers head.

He hopes.

Or that was his neck doing something unholy when he straightened up. It didn’t sound good anyhow.

“Why are you lying Geralt?”

“I am telling the truth.”

“No you are not. What is my name?”

“Sandra.” Alright that is funny. Geralt smirks a little, finding himself hilarious. Jaskier lifts an eyebrow.

“I am guessing you asked me that for a reason, Geralt, please take this seriously. Is something the matter?”

“I don’t know.” Geralt says, and oh? That is interesting.

He does know, but at the same time, he guesses it depends on what the specific matter is. There is nothing wrong with him, more than the lying. There are things that trouble him, sure, but nothing ails him really.

“Alright. I really think it is going to rain, so lets find shelter for tonight, and then lets figure this out.” Jaskier says, and sure, that sounds very reasonable.

They find a small hut, probably just a place for a shepherd to sleep from time to time, but it suits them just fine.

They settle in, feeding Roach outside and brushing her down.

Geralt makes himself comfortable on the floor, partially because Jaskier becomes a right terror if he sleeps poorly and partially because there is no way he is going to share that small space with someone that smells that good.

The only reason Geralt is alive today is thanks to his self preservation.

(Also not true, most of the time it was Vesemir or Triss….)

Jaskier comes inside and settles opposite of Geralt on the bedroll, legs crossed and eyes lazerfocused.

“So.” Jaskier begins.

“So.” Geralt echoes with a soft smile.

Hopefully they will get this sorted out and Jaskier can do the speaking with the next mage or sorceress they come across.

“Let’s try to sort this out, this thing you won’t tell me. I don’t really understand what’s going on, but it seems important to you.”

Geralt shakes his head, even his body betraying him.

“What is it that you don’t want me to notice?”

Stupid fucking question Jaskier.

“My extra toes.” Geralt says sarcastically.

“You don’t have extra toes?” Jaskier asks with a frown. He has seen Geralts toes, but probably never counted them. Which makes sense, supposedly, that is a weird thing to do out of the blue.

“I do.” Geralt says, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, we are letting that go.”

Good boy, Geralt thinks. And then flushes, because that brings other scenarios to his mind.

“Why are you blushing?” Jaskier asks, tilting his head again.

Gosh, why does he keep doing that? Doesn’t he know how endearing that is?

“Because I’m warm.” Geralt lies, and thank fuck for lying and not truthing in this instance.

But it doesn’t help Jaskier figure things out at all, so…

“I want to cut my hair.” Geralt blurts, and only the thought of it stings. He cringes, despite the curse.

It really came down to the hair, huh?

“Are you sure?” Jaskier asks, lifting one perfect eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Like, right now? You want me to cut your hair?”

“No.” Oh shit. Oh fuck. Wait, he does? This is not… what he thought was going to happen here. He did not realize that himself.

“Make up your mind, stupid.” Jaskier says, shaking his head with a smile. “Why can’t you just tell me what you want me to figure out?”

Oh that is the real question right there. What will come out this time?

“Because I enjoy hiding things from you.”

“Oh. Geralt, that didn’t sound true at all.”

Geralt pointedly raises his eyebrows and hopes Jaskier will connect the dots.

Jaskier raises his eyebrows right back.

Idiot.

“Becaaauusseee?” Geralt asks, trying to make him think.

“Oh. Wait.” Geralt waits. “WAIT!”

Finally.

“Are you actually hiding something from me? Geralt. You hate lying. Why do you keep lying?”

“I tell you everything.” Geralt says and hmmm. “Hmmm.”

He does not like that reply.

“Was that a lie too? Geralt, are you compelled to lie? And if you are, we are circling back to that fucking statement later.”

“It wasn’t a lie.” Geralt is both relieved and scared out of his mind.

There are some questions he really doesn’t want Jaskier to ask when he figured it out.

“I guess you wouldn’t tell me if that’s so, thinking about it.”

Clever bard.

“Alright, so I am going to try to ask you a few things. Is that alright?”

Geralt is not sure how to respond to that, because of his previous thoughts. Humming and grunting seems to work, so he does that and let’s Jaskier make his own conclusions.

Which, to be fair, is actually often a bad idea.

“It should be things I know to be true. Alright, tell me this.”

Jaskier lifts his left hand.

“Which hand am I holding up?”

“Your right.”

“Hm. How many rings are on my fingers?”

“Four hundred.” Close enough. Jaskier has so many rings. Jaskier squints.

“How’s. My. Singing.” Jaskier asks, leaning forward.

Geralt isn’t scard of Jaskier. Not at all. But remember that thing about bards being feral?

Yeah, be very fucking careful.  And of course this is what he would ask.

“Like ordering a pie and finding out it has no filling.” Geralt lies.

It was a lie back then too.

Jaskiers mouth opens and closes.

“I fucking knew it!!” Jaskier looks smug as fuck and Geralt is both emberassed and relieved. He have been wanting to clear that up for a while, but he is not sure how nor if he would be believed.

“Sweet vindication!!”

Geralt gives Jaskier exactly three seconds to bask in it and then he flicks Jaskiers forehead.

“You done?”

“Almost. Alright yes, I’m done. Geralt, is this a curse?”

“No.”

“Huh. Do you know how to break it?”

“No.”

“Oh, that’s convenient. I’m guessing you won’t be able to tell me, but curse breaking sounds magical. Do we need to visit a magician?”

“No.” Geralt smirks, happy to finally be getting somewhere.

“Alright! I guess we know where we are headed tomorrow!”

Jaskier rises up and stretches. His tunic strains across his chest and Geralt gulps.

“Are you really alright with sleeping on the floor?” Jaskier asks, and fuck.

“Yes.” Geralt grits out and Jaskiers eyebrows rise up, slow down.

“Oh. Geralt my dear, you are allowed to tell me these things.”

Geralt looks away, embarrassed where he sits. Jaskier steps up to him, catches his chin and makes him look up and meet those blue eyes.

“Why haven’t you said something? Wait. That is not an easy question to reply to.”

Geralt does anyway.

“Because I don’t want to share it with you.”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Geralt flinches back, Jaskiers mouth opens in surprise.

Time to flee. Time to fucking go.

Embarrassment and shame course through him, he rises up and storms out the door.

To Roach. To his safe place.

She startles when the door bangs open, trots a few steps away before she realizes it’s him. Then she stops and allows him close.

She is so wonderful.

One of the best Roaches he has ever had. He pets her fondly, trying to calm his racing head and heart. The first raindrop hits his skin, but both he and Roach ignore it.

“Geralt.” comes softly from the door behind him. “I won’t ask any more questions. Please come inside.”

Geralt breathes in the cool, humid air. Rain has a very nice smell.

Roach tires of him and walks away towards the trees to take shelter. Clever girl. Fine.

Geralt turns, his inside like a stirred ants nest, and looks at Jaskier across the distance.

“Come on.” Jaskier urges. “We need to get to sleep if we are going to travel all day tomorrow.”

Alright, fair. Geralt breathes in through his nose slowly and breathes out from his mouths.

Bards do not scare him.

He is fine.

He steps inside again. Jaskier stands by the wall waiting for him.

“Get on the bed. It’s not like we haven’t shared before. And it is much more comfortable than the floor.” Jaskier says with a careful smile. He seems nervous too.

They strip down to more sleep appropriate clothes. Geralt lets Jaskier climb in first, so that he can place himself between Jaskier and the door.

Just to be safe.

They lie down, back to back. It is quiet. The rain pattering on the roof above, the occasional dripping from where the roof is leaking.

Thankfully not above the bed though.

“Can I as you something?” Jaskier asks quietly behind him. Damnit. “I will respect it if you don’t want me to.”

“No.”

Yes. Fuck it all. He can barely lie to himself anymore.

“Thank you. Why do you keep pushing me away?”

That… is a very complicated question.

“That’s easy.” Geralt lies. “You stink.”

Wait. Did his brain just go with the literal reason? Not the emotional one? Handy. But also very unhandy.

Jaskier snorts in the darkness.

“You think I smell good?”

“No.”

Jaskier chuckles, and then Geralt can feel him shifting behind him.

“Really, it’s so typical for you. It takes getting cursed to talk about the important things, without talking about them.”

A hand presses against his back, sliding over his shoulder blade and across his side.

“Tell me if I’m overstepping.” Jaskier whispers, shuffling closer still and wraps his arms around him in a hug.

Geralt shivers, full body shivers. Jaskier is warm behind him, his forehead pressed against the back of Geralt’s head. Every puff of breath hits Geralt’s skin, and his nerves are tingling and he wants to run.

“For the record. I think you smell nice too. Good night Geralt.”

“Good morning.” Geralt murmurs, and Jaskier chuckles.

The mage they find laughs.

Long and loud.

“Would you kindly stop laughing and fix this?!” Jaskier hisses, and Geralt stands quietly behind him. The mage wipes tears from their eyes and tries to catch their breath.

“That is the best thing I have heard all day. Lying curse! I need to do that too.”

“The fuck you will.” Jaskier growls.

Feral.

Geralt smirks where he stands behind his bard.

Well. Not really his bard. He would like him to be. It took him lying to everyone to stop lying to himself, it would seem. Interesting concept.

“You will lift this curse right this instant, or so help you I will shove my entire lute up your ass.” Jaskier growls.

The mage seems to realize the threat, finally, and takes a step back.

“Fine, fine, take it down a notch, bardling.” They say and roll their eyes. “Witcher, go sit in that bathtub while I fix the herbs. Yes, keep that stupid ab armor on. It is cursed as well.”

Geralt walks out of the mages house dripping wet, but a free man.

Jaskier waits for him with Roach on the outside, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Now that you don’t feel compelled to lie, would you mind us having a talk?” Jaskier asks him. “Don’t think I don’t remember you saying you are keeping things from me.”

Ah, shit. He had hoped Jaskier would forget about that one.

“Fine. But you have things you need to tell me too.” Geralt grumbles, trying to scare Jaskier away from it, squeezing out herbal water from his hair.

Jaskier walks real close to Geralt, right up in his face and winks.

“Oh, my sweet witcher. There are a great deal of things I would like to tell you too.”

Geralt gulps, blushes, and those ants in his chest are making a quick return.

[words-for-holland]

Happier (8) | T.H.

Summary: Tom, Harrison & Harry have a talk about Y/N. Our broken up couple has their first physical conversation with each other. Natalie has a little talk with a certain someone. Does another truth unfold?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Masterlist

A/N: To the readers, thank you for all the support! More drama to come!

Confrontation

No one likes it, but sometimes it’s needed to get a point across. Another use, to threaten another and instill fear, but we’ll get to that when we cross that bridge.

Harrison and Harry settled Tom down in the kitchen, ready to confront him about everything that’s happened. Tom fidgets with his fingers, unsure of what’s to come. All he knew, was he was furious that they both went to see Y/N, and didnt tell him. “Look”, Tom starts off, clearly impatient waiting on their prepared speech. “I just want to know why you left to see Y/N and didn’t tell me. Why am I being kept in the dark with everything?”

“Becuse you couldn’t figure it out. Even after being baby fed the information.” Harry says abruptly, his arms crossed as he stared down at his brother

Tom scoffs at the response, rolling his eyes. “How can I figure anything out when you all keep it a secret from me?! Mind you that all of this involves MY girlfriend and OUR relationship! And you have the balls to go out to find Y/N in secret and not tell me because I cant figure out a fucking thing in this chaotic fucking mess?!” Tom rants out, eyes and voice filled with anger and jealousy. He wasn’t sure if his yelling was towards the boys or if it was more toward himself, because deep down Tom knew he should have tried harder, but didn’t.

“No. Don’t you dare turn this on us, and make us look like we’re the bad guys.” Harrison snaps as he looks down at his best mate. “Just because you don’t know half the things that are going on, doesn’t mean you can be mad at us. Even when the words are written in stone, you’re still a complete div to not be able to comprehend it.”

“I dont understand.” Tom mutters as he looks at the table, trying his hardest to figure all this out. He had already talked to Natalie days ago about Kate and the pictures, but said she had nothing to do with it. They couldnt possibly mean there was more to the story other than Natalie being a complete piece of work.

“Read the fucking signs, Tom!” Harrison yells out. “I know you talked to Y/N that night about Kate and what did you say?”

Tom looks up at him, realizing what this is about. It wasn’t just about the pictures. It was more than that, something Tom should have realized and reacted to the moment it happened. “I said I was sorry and didn’t know what to say.” He mutters, his face now displaying a sense of guilt. “Fuck!” He whispers.

“Yeah start crying about it now you div!” Harry comments roughly, before continuing his speech. “Kate didn’t just backstab Y/N. She went behind the both of you. She was the spark that ruined your relationship, and you don’t know what to say to that?”

Tom shakes his head, realizing his mistake. For someone that works to display his emotions on screen, he failed miserably when it came to real life situations. It was miscommunication for him, the boys, and Y/N. In his mind, he was more pissed that Y/N was left there to think that he didnt care as much when in actuality he cared a lot. More than anyone would ever know, he cared the most. “No you all don’t understand that wasn’t my intention. Fuck!” He screams in frustration.

“Really and what was your intention then?” Harrison questioned, sarcastically intrigued to know Tom’s excuse.

“She lost her best friend. Fuck, she lost the only other person in her childhood that stood up for her, before this whole bullshit. That right there was more important than our relationship. I know shes the reason I got into this PR mess, the runors exploding, and pushed Y/N away fron me, but Kate betrayed Y/N’s friendship and trust. I didn’t say shit because I didnt want to make it about us. I wanted it to be about her and what she needed.” Tom spilled out, sighing deeply. Silence filled the air, and neither spoke for a minute, sinking in everything that’s happened.

“What she needed was you, Tom.” Harry said as both he and Harrison made their way out the kitchen, not until leaving Tom with a final warning. “We get that Kate maybe the reason she started all of this....but that doesn’t mean it ends with her.”

It left Tom wondering. Again, he had just talked to Natalie about the whole blackmail pictures but said she had nothing to do with it. Then again, she always wanted him to push away from Y/N. A talk he hoped would clear some answers, only left him with more questions. He knew who he had to talk to if he wanted straight answers, and she was going to give them whether she liked it or not.

Y/N had managed to avoid Tom the first week of her return in London. Sadly, it could only be said for that one week, and she had no one to thank, but a sink filled with dirty dishes to wash. Tom made his way into the kitchen by chance to grab sa quck bite to eat when he saw Y/N. It was his chance, he had to take it. It was now or never.

As he walked in, he made eye contact with her to which she responded with a slight smile and a nod. It was silent, nothing but the clashes of dishes and water running. “Do you want some help?” Tom asked with a smile. Might as well make the first move, he was a gentleman after all.

Y/N nodded as she handed him a dish towel, implying for him to dry and stack the dishes away while she washed. They continued this routine for a while, until Tom couldn’t take it anymore. “What happened to us Y/N? We were never like this in person. Hell the phone conversations we had the past weeks are more lively than this.” He confesses as he looks into her eyes.

Y/N shakes her head as she returns to her dishes. “There’s just nothing to say anymore. We’ve said everything we needed to say....Now things are just clockwork.”

“That’s not true. I know you still are keeping things from me. There’s more to this than Kate...” He waits for her to answer, but judging from the hesitation and the look of fear that dwelled in her eyes, his assumption was correct.

“You want to know everything?” Y/N asks as she looks in his eyes.

“Yes. I want to help you. I want us to be back to where we used to be before you left.”

Y/N sniffles as she shakes her head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?” He asks softly, hoping she will open up.

Y/N looks at Tom, taking a deep breath before she decides to tell him. She thought of the possibilities and the consequences that would come about. Kate was gone but it didnt mean Unknown wasn’t still out there. Everything had been so quiet the past few days, it almost seemed like she could breathe without having someone threaten her. Then again maybe her subconcious was right. Maybe it wasn’t a person anymore...Maybe it was just her.

Her mind wandered to Tom, who was staring at her waiting patiently for her story. Opening up her mouth, would be unleashing Pandora’s box and all hell could break loose. Blackmail, shattered dream, shattered relationship, broken trust, it would all come to the surface. The worst part...it wouldnt just stop there. But in this moment, Y/N didnt care. She had kept things bottled up from him for as long as she had. He deserved to know, he was a part of this as much as everyone. Maybe if Y/N kept Tom at bay, it would just be enough to statisfy Unknown and keep things as they were. Safe.

“Before I left...” Y/N starts off, her lower back leaning against the sink, eyes looking down as she lets out a deep sigh. “ There were already rumors of you and Natalie. Speculations that you’d be an item.”

“And you believed that?” Tom interrupts, his eyes rolling, unamused by how the story was starting. “Y/N if you were just jealous. Why didn’t you just say —“

“You think I didn’t know that?” Y/N fires back, scowling her eyes towards Tom, only to receive a knowing look from him that indicated to stop lying to herself. “Whatever. Yeah maybe I was a little when I saw how close you two got and how it just built the rumors. Did I want to tell you? Sure, but that didnt mean I could.”

“Im not following.” Tom comments, his messy eyebrow raised in confusion. “So you wanted to tell me..but couldn’t?”

Y/N nods, taking in another deep breath. “As the days went by, I started getting unknown text messages. At first they started off vague, saying how I didn’t belong with you. Look how much happier you were with Natalie. Did he ever do that with you? Did he ever smile at you like that? I bet he doesn’t love you anymore.”

Y/N’s eyes water as she relived the conversations, small sniffles escaping her nose. Tom was at a loss for words. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why someone would text complete lies to her. He was getting mad by the second as he heard each insulting sentence that came out of her mouth. “Y/N..” he says.

She shook her head as she continued. “But the insults started to become threats. They knew everything about me and was willing to use you as blackmail. If I didn’t breakup with you...they’d make sure you’d never live out your dream again. And for the life of me I wasn’t going to let that happen.” She cried, hiding her sobbing face in hands.

Tom quickly rushes to her, taking away her hands so he could look into her eyes. He held her close, cradled her tiny body into his arms as she tried to slow her breathing. “Then I found out Kate was behind the pictures and the start of the rumors, and now we’re here. I don’t know what to do anymore Tom. Everything’s just been so fucked up.”

“Hey, its okay. Im okay. I’m not gonna let them hurt you like this.” He cooed. “I dont give a fuck if it ruins my career or not. I care about you. You come first, that’s not going to change. But it’s over now, right? Let’s just move on from it. Ill break the PR, I’ll make sure Kate doesn’t walk away from this without serious consequences, I wont keep you a secret if it means it’ll fix everything.”

Y/N pushes away from Tom, reluctantly. She knew how much he cared for her. He was willing to risk everything just to make sure they would be okay, and in a perfect world, maybe that would have been enough. Could live happily ever after and not have to worry about anything anymore. Both could just walk away from it all if they wanted, but this wasn’t a perfect world. “Just because Kate started it, doesn’t mean it’s over. Unknown could still be out there.” She whispers, afraid of anyone listening.

“Then we find out. Together.” He responds, holding her hand. “I let you slip away once. Im not letting it happen again.”

He looked into her eyes, almost silently asking to hug her once more. Two embrace each other, and stay like that for a while. It had been so long since they felt this sort of comfort, which brought up a familiar and warm feeling for each them. So warm, so familiar...they almost didn’t want to let go. Y/N breathed into him, taking in his cologne, the one she had grown to love over the three years. It felt right. It was home.

But not all moments can last forever. Behind the thin walls was Natalie, who had overheard and seen the entire conversation. Hearing Tom, mention how he’d break the PR for Y/N and how he’d do anything, risk everything to find Unknown, rubbed her the wrong way. The way Tom held Y/N close, made Natalie furious, and as soon as she heard her phone ring, she answered. “He knows you exist.”

“A slight hiccup. He’s so caught up in Y/N, he just can’t see the real you.” The voice reassured. “Dont worry, he’ll love you when she’s out of the picture.”

“There is no out of the picture anymore. You should have heard him...He wont let her go this time.” Natalie answers, discouraged more than ever.

“Then we just have to up the antics. Clearly her dim-witted friend ruined the original plan. Thats the last time I ever trust an American do the dirty work. She can start a fire but can’t be beothered to finish a job. ” The voice scoffs. “If the messages don’t work, threaten her in person. Alone. Make sure Tom doesn’t see you.” The voice orders.

“You know it wont work. She’s not as afraid as she was before.” Natalie whispers as she continues to watch them from a distance.

“Then we’ll give her something to be afraid of. Why do you doubt me?” The voice asked, challenging Natalie. “Is this what you wanted?”

Natalie hesitates. Of course she wanted Tom more than anything in the world, but to what point? To what cost? These questions swirled around her mind as she thought back to how Y/N and Tom interacted in the kitchen. Their bond was so strong, they always found a way back to each other. For a moment...she felt almost bad. “Of course I want Tom.” She answers “but.. I want him to love me the way he loves Y/N.”

The voice scoffs at her response.loud enough for Natalie to hear the disgust in her voice. “Haven’t I taught you anything? Love is superficial gets you nowhere in life. You’re lucky enough that we’re settling for Tom.”

“I...I guess.”

“Then you’ll make sure Y/N stays away. Im doing this for you Natalie. Fame, fortune, your career, and your superficial love life. I want what’s best for you.” The voice becomes calmer more gentle, yet the sinisterness was still very present.

“Yes...mother.” Natalie says sourily.

“Darling, how many times have I told you to only refer to me as your publicist? Now go, before someone finds out about this.” The line drops, and Natalie focuses her eyes on Y/N who leaves for her room. Her eyes narrow, and fill with jealously and guilt. Her mother’s words replying her mind. “He will love you...just get rid of the girl.”

Taglist:

@hollanddolanfangirl @ifilosemyselfagain @hevjadams @averyfosterthoughts​ @fangirl-with-a-mission @drishtisikarwar @eridanuswave​ @ifntelyinspirit @trumpettay @astridcommings @parkershoco @racewife2004 @sleepybesson @greatpizzascissorstaco @andievgs @joyleenl @holland-bowen @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @viwihere @marvelobsessedteenager

[iamlyne]

a thread of my favorite lyrics from If I Can’t Have Love I Want Power:

The Tradition: her soul is black and it’s a fact, that her sneer will eat you alive, and the buyer always brings her back because all she does is cry; all for forgiveness, never permission, take what you want, take what you can, take what you please, don’t give a damn; she smiles back, but it’s a fact that her fear will eat her alive. well, she got the life that she wanted but now all she does is cry; and THE WHOLE BRIDGE BOYS WILL BE BOYSSSS

Bells In Santa Fe: don’t call me by my name, all of this is temporary, watch as i slip away for your sake; leavin through the door without a word, you won’t even notice little bird, better off dead so i reckon i’m headed to hell instead; JESUS NEEDED A THREE DAY WEEKEND TO SORT OUT ALL HIS BULLSHIT; i’ve been searching for a fortified defense, four to five reasooOnss; JESUS YOU’VE GOT BETTER LIPS THAN JUDAS I COULD KEEP YOUR BED WARM OTHERWISE I’M USELEeeSSs, i don’t really mean it cause WHO THE FUCK WOULD CHOOSE THIS?!; don’t wait for me, it’s not a happy ending; ALL OF THIS IS TEMPORARY

Easier Than Lying: i’m only whatever you make me, you make me more and more a villain every day; whatever you give to me from yourself you take; well if you’re a hater then hate the creator it’s in your image i’m made; THE CHORUS AND I REPEAT THE DAMN CHORUS; my heart is massive but it’s empty, a permanent part of me that innocent artery, is gaspin for some real attention some undivided hypertension, tell it QUIET DOWN YOU’RE BEING LOUD; THE DAMN BRIDGE

Lilith: well every thing that i say i believe; and by now i don’t NEED A FUCKIN INTRODUCTION; i can’t call it love if i show it i just fuck things up if you noticed, have you noticed, tell me have you noticed?; NOW IM WONDERING IF I EVER WANTED TO HOLD YOU; cause you’d let anybody with a body control you and YOU KNOW IT TOO; i am disgustin, i’ve been corrupted, and by now i don’t need no help to be destructive; THE MORE THAT YOU HAVE THE MORE THAT THEY FUCKING TAKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Girl Is A Gun: no i’m not your daydream, i won’t have your baby, stop cause you’re killing my vibe; I FEEL BETTER WHEN THE BOYS STOP CALLIN; you’ll be wishing that you crossed your fingers, oh but god is it fun when you can have more than one so let me show you how to touch my trigger; i love it, i break it; so i’m giving you up and you’ll be better with a nice girl darlin

You asked for this: punch-wasted on redundancy, now what the fuck does all this mean?! you know i’m still somebody’s daughter, see, i spilled the milk you left for me, my tears are falling flawlessly; GO ON AND BE A BIG GIRL YOU ASKED FOR THIS NOW, GO ON AND BE A BIG GIRL OR EVERYBODY’S GONNA DROWN YOU OUT; YOUBETTERSHOWEMWHYYOUTALKSOLOUD; who the hell is in your bed? you better kiss goodnight and give some head; THE OUTRO LIVES IN MY HEAD

Darling: i should just copy and paste the whole damn song. HAVE YOU EVER HEARD ANYTHING AS ROMANTIC AS THE WHOLE BRIDGE?!

1121: well i won’t die for love, but i’ve got a body here to bury, and if truth be told it’s scary, cause my shoulders are heavy already, and yeah, i know, the parts of myself that i’ve hated AND I CANT TELL WHICH ONES ARE MINE AND WHICH I CREATED, the whole chorus; i try to be careful with the thing inside my chest, you shoot for the memory so you can forget me, i’ll leave if you let me; PLEASE DON’T LEAVE, DON’T LEAVE ME IN THE SHAPE YOU LEFT ME 😭😭😭

honey: BETWEEN MY FINGERS SHE LEAVES THEN SHE LINGERS, if she’s gonna go well then i’m goin with her; BUT ALL I CAN TASTE IS THE BLOOD IN MY MOUTH AND THE BITTERNESS IN GOODBYE; well she’s impatient and i’m complacent with just a little taste of wasting time; WELL SHE STINGS LIKE SHE MEANS IT SHE’S MEAN AND SHE’S MINE; but she’s hell in a basket, just makin a racket, i love every second, IT’S FUCKIN FANTASTIC

Whispers: again, copy and paste the whole damn song. this whole thing was a very personal attack on me, thanks for that halsey

I am not a woman, I’m a god: every day, i got a smile where my frown goes, a couple bodies in the garden where the grass grows, i take ‘em with me to the grave in a suitcase, MAYBE I COULD BE A BETTER HUMAN IN A NEW PLACE; cause everybody knows something i don’t wanna know, so i stay right here cause i’m better all alone; THE WHOLE CHORUS; every morning, got a hollow where my heart goes, i never listen but i see it with my eyes closed, i know you, i remember from the grass stain, MAYBE I COULD BE A BETTER HUMAN WITH A NEW NAME; i’m ready to leave it, i’ll go when i feel it, got caught, both hands on the smokin gun, i try but i need it, it’s hard but i feel it, and it really does hurt when you love someone

The Lighthouse: from a tender age, i was cursed with rage (FELT THAT); AND HE LEFT ME THERE BY MY LONESOME; whole chorus once again; but a sailor ain’t a savior cause they only tell you lies, so i left him there til the sunrise; he’s laying in the water, begging god to let him drown, so i showed him all my teeth and then i laughed out loud, CAUSE I NEVER WANTED SAVING I JUST WANTED TO BE FOUND; the bridge, specifically AND A LITTLE PIECE OF HIM IS IN A LITTLE PIECE OF ME

Ya’aburnee: and one more, copy and paste the whole damn thing - i can’t even with this

honestly this whole album is a masterpiece and i’m so in love with it 🤘🏻❤️👏🏻

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 8: The Light]

Hi y’all! Thank you so much for reading and supporting my writing. Each and every message/reblog/comment/etc makes me smile, and it’s a dream come true to get to share my work with you! 💜

Chapter summary: John shares a secret; Y/N excels at Scrabble; Brian makes peace; Roger suffers a misstep.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, medical stuff, pregnancy (not who you think!).

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @killer-queen-xo​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @bookandband​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

Medicine teaches you to be fiercely skeptical of things that seem too good to be true. Bodies fail—completely and inevitably, though the timing may differ—and patients lie. Medical records don’t, fingerprints don’t, track marks up the underside of an arm don’t, blood and paternity tests don’t, oftentimes the eyes don’t; but given half a chance, people will lie themselves right into the grave.

Those bruises, doc? Got ‘em from a nasty fall down the stairs. I’m lucky I didn’t break my neck!

Nope, never done drugs, not even a joint, I swear on my mother’s life.

I’ll give it up, I’ll go to rehab. Never again. I promise. I don’t want to die.

Doc, I don’t care if the timing doesn’t seem quite right. My husband IS the father. There’s been no one else!

That doting fiancé is flirting with the nurses. Those grown-up children who fluff pillows and dab away tears are asking about the will. That wife is never going to testify against her abusive husband. That addict is going to relapse again...and again...and again. Are there exceptions? Of course. But if you get in the habit of trusting people—of believing all those tantalizingly attractive, hopeful lies—it’ll break your heart six ways to Sunday. There is no perfection in medicine, and there are very rarely miracles.

And so during those first few weeks with Roger—as you watch him from the reeling crowd, from the other side of the tour bus, from across the restaurant table, from the tiny viewfinder of the Canon F-1—you can’t stop searching for the cracks, the shadows, the lies, the dark malignancies breeding beneath the surface. Because everything about Roger Taylor is too good to be true. He’s bright and he’s loud and he’s brilliant and he’s always smiling, always warm. He careens backstage after every show—you keep bracing yourself not to be disappointed when the novelty wears away, when it ends, but it doesn’t—pushing aside roadies and reporters, shouting “Where’s the love of my life? Where’s my Boston babe?” with the most absurd grin you’ve ever seen until he finds you, collides with you, scoops you up and spins you in ungainly circles as your toes skim the floor. Then he cradles your face in his scarred hands and kisses you, breathes you in, tells you everything about the show (even though you were there to see it) in a rush of pure, manic adrenaline. And you stumble into some dressing room together—or a hotel room, or a taxi, or a limousine, or an elevator—and finally it’s your bare thighs his palms are gliding over, your tongue tasting the Heineken and craving on his lips, and it feels impossible for that to ever change. Roger is too good to be true, that’s undeniable; but when you watch him with those doubtful, cautious eyes, you can’t find anything but light.

He wakes up at 6 a.m. to join you on a bayou tour in New Orleans, taps his cigarette over the moss-covered sides of the boat, points out the alligators with leathered skin and ancient yellow irises lurking in the depths. He walks Fremont Street with you in Las Vegas and makes you choose his numbers for the Roulette wheel, for his fate. He snaps photos of you on a sun-drenched balcony in Miami, roaring cobalt waves crashing in the background. He takes you to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Aquarium in Baltimore, the Philadelphia Zoo, Myrtle Beach and the Saint Louis Arch and the Santa Monica Pier. Because he was telling the truth when he said he could show you the world all those months ago when Queen was at Top of the Pops; he was telling you the truth about the list that’s etched into the rushing scarlet chambers of his heart.

When the American leg of the tour ends and the band gets a brief reprieve in London, you move into Roger’s paltry, disorganized flat and scrub away all the remnants of his past life: dust and empty cigarette boxes and women’s socks, ashes and copies of Vogue, a tube of lipstick that isn’t yours. You don’t complain, don’t even frown; you’re under no delusions that something eternal can be founded on resentment, on lies. And so you clear out the clutter and open the windows so sunshine and crisp spring air can breathe through the apartment, so you can both start fresh along with the bellflowers and delphiniums and roses and the tawny newborn ducklings scampering behind their mothers. You hang photos from the tour and John’s sketches on the refrigerator, place your Canon F-1 and pink conch shell from Ostia on the nightstand, litter the drawers with your own socks and makeup. You teach Roger how to sew (although he’s not much good at it) and how to treat blisters (although you’ll always be there to do it for him); and in return Roger teaches you how to trust, how to believe, how to stop searching desperately for faults in the light.  

On the second day of April, Queen boards their flight to Tokyo. Brian settles into a plushy, billowing blanket and loses himself in an astronomy magazine; he’s an engaged man now, an honest man in the eyes of society at large...and, far more importantly, his parents. Freddie pens lyrics in his notebook, humming disjointedly, napping like a cat when the mood strikes him. Roger snacks constantly and tries to get John chatting, but John is particularly subdued today, preoccupied, prone to gazing unfocusedly at the clouds that drift by outside and wringing his hands.

And you think, as you peer down into the glistening sapphire waters of the East China Sea: Brian’s a willow tree, Freddie’s a lightning storm, Roger is wildfire...but what is John?

Something deep, something beautiful and strong and constant and hidden.

The ocean, you decide as Queen’s private plane soars over the quicksilver waves that conceal the abyss. John is the ocean.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You didn’t have to stay, you know.”

John is lying on his back under a small grove of cherry blossom trees outside the hotel, sketching grey outlines of petals and arcing branches in a new notebook. He hasn’t given any sign that he heard you coming, doesn’t turn his head to see you. You freeze, startled.

“How’d you know it was me?!”

“You have very distinct footsteps. Dainty, yet purposeful.” He sets aside his notebook and sits up, crossing his long legs. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

“Because you didn’t. You turned down ramen, and you never turn down ramen. I was worried. Plus someone has to make sure a roving posse of screaming Japanese girls doesn’t carry you off.”

That makes him laugh. The Japanese fans are inexplicably obsessed with John; or maybe it’s not so inexplicable, maybe they just have a better eye for quiet, unassuming wonders. “Always so thoughtful.”

You sit down beside him, open a pack of chocolate-flavored Pocky and offer John a piece, frown when he lights a cigarette instead. “That’s really bad for you. Seriously. You should quit.”

“At last. One thing you and Brian agree on.” He exhales a gale of smoke and peers up at the cherry blossoms.

“John?”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t break up with Veronica, did you?” Chrissie and Mary didn’t mention anything about her tearful devastation, and you suspect they would have had John gone through with it.

He sighs. “I did not.”

“And...are we feeling...okay about that...?”

He twirls the cigarette nervously between his fingers. After a silence, he surrenders. “Look, I haven’t told anybody yet, but I’d tell you first anyway. So here it goes.” He glances over at you guiltily, gloomily, wishing he could disappear. “I didn’t break up with Veronica because she’s pregnant.”

Your jaw falls open. A half-eaten stick of Pocky rolls out of your mouth and onto the grass. She’s what? She’s WHAT?

“Please don’t be disappointed,” John pleads. “I’m disappointed in myself enough for both of us, believe me.”

“I...I...I’m not disappointed, John, I’m just...” You blink at him. “Oh my god.”

He nods, acquiescent. “I’m in complete agreement.”

You shake your head, gaping at him, stunned; and suddenly you don’t like what you’re feeling at all. Because it isn’t just shock and horror, it isn’t just apprehension. You hate the thought of him touching her, of her delicate white hands on him, of innocence stripped away and memories impressed into muscle, into soul.

Because you know she’s not right for him. Because you know he doesn’t love her the way he should. Because you want the best for him and always have.

Oh, there’s a comforting rationale; but is it true?

And then: You fucking hypocrite. Since when do you get an opinion on who anyone sleeps with?

“It must have happened in January,” John says miserably. “Right before we left for the States. She didn’t want to tell me over the phone...I guess maybe she thought if she did I’d never come back. So she told me as soon as I landed in London. And here we all are.”

You stare down at your shoes, trying to compose yourself. “What are you going to do?”

“There’s only one option.”

“Actually, there are quite a few. But I know you’d never consider them.” John’s father died when he was ten, and he never talks about it; which is precisely how you know it’s a wound that can’t ever heal, a gash that goes straight down to the bone. He would never leave his child, never banish them to some dusty, repressed corner of his consciousness while he moves on with a blissfully unencumbered life. You whisper: “I’m so fucking sorry, John.”

That snaps something in him, something he was choking back. He buries his face in his hands. “What the fuck am I doing?” he moans. “I’m twenty-three years old, I’m broke, I turned down loads of jobs, good jobs, as an electrical engineer, I’ve somehow become the bassist in an increasingly famous rock band...I mean, how the hell did this happen? How did any of this happen?”

“It’ll be okay,” you insist with newfound resolve. I have to save him. I have to protect him.

John rolls those soft greyish eyes, hopeless, distraught. “Sure.”

“It will be, I promise you. The tour is going great. I had my doubts about the band when I first met you, I’ll admit it, I didn’t know if there was a future for Queen. But you’ve made me a believer. You’ve made millions of people all over the world believers. The money will keep rolling in, Queen will finally start seeing some of it, you won’t be broke forever. You’ll have two more months on the road and then we’ll be back in London, and it’ll be on to recording the next album, more shows, more money...the hard times are almost over, John. You can do this. And I’ll help you.”

His brow furrows. “You will?”

“Of course. If it’s easier for Veronica, it’ll be easier for you. So I’ll be extra friendly, take her to appointments when you’re busy, help organize the wedding, babysit the littlest Deacon whenever she needs me to. We’ll get through this. I’ll be there to help every step of the way.”

“You’re happy, aren’t you?” he asks suddenly. “You and Roger. You aren’t going anywhere.” He’s reading you closely, sifting through your words and forced smile for something deeper.

“I’m happy,” you assure him. “You don’t need to be concerned about that. I’m staying with the band, I’m staying in London. Whenever Queen is home, that is.”

He nods, but perhaps that wasn’t exactly what he was looking for. He finally accepts a piece of Pocky from you and takes a bite. “Then I guess we’ll plan for a summer wedding.”

“You could do a double one with Brian and Chrissie.”

He laughs so hard he almost inhales the Pocky, then doubles over coughing. “I think Bri would rather slit his own throat, but a charming thought. Thank you for that. Bravo.”

You smile at John, genuinely this time. “You’re going to be an amazing father. I hope you aren’t worried about that part of it, at least.”

“Will you be their godparent?”

“What? Me?!”

“Yeah. Because, you know...” John averts his gaze. “You’d be the person I would want to raise them if something happened to me and Veronica. You’re the most dedicated, stubborn, capable, nurturing, remarkable person I’ve ever met. You’re my best friend. And maybe Roger’s your best friend and you’re his, and that’s all fine, that’s alright, but you’re still mine.”

“Roger is a lot of incredible things, but he’s not my best friend.” You lie flat on the grass and lace your hands behind your head, tracking the weightless snowy clouds as they float by above. When did we become adults? When did all of these rules catch up to us? “I would be honored to be your child’s godparent.”

John plops down beside you. “Don’t tell the others yet, okay? I want to wait until the tour’s over. I don’t want them to panic and think I’m leaving and try to replace me or anything.”

“They wouldn’t try to replace you, John.”

“No?” he asks doubtfully.

“No. Roger knows it, Fred knows it, I think even Bri knows it.” You reach out and weave a lock of his hair through your fingers as cherry blossom petals tumble in the breeze. “You’re irreplaceable.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Sod,” Freddie mocks. “That’s the best you could do? Really? Sod?”

Roger flings up his hands in frustration. “Freddie, I’ve got like a million Cs!”

“You could have done cod,” Brian notes, sipping a cup of hot tea. “Cods, actually.”

Roger glowers down at his Scrabble tiles. “Fuck.”

“And I’m so delighted he didn’t!” You place your tiles, expanding on sod to make rhapsody. John high-fives you and records the points in his notebook. Freddie and Brian groan in defeat.

“What the hell is a rhapsody?!” Roger snatches the Official Scrabble Dictionary off the table and flips through it.

“It’s a, like a...” Freddie waves his cigarette, scattering smoke through the air. “It’s like an epic poem. Or an opera. With lots of bizarre, different parts all pieced together.”

“That sounds made up.”

Freddie cackles. “Darling, it’s a real thing, I swear!”

Roger locates the pertinent page in the Scrabble Dictionary and his shoulders slump. “Goddammit. Fucking...too smart...nerdy...college-educated...girlfriend.” He drags you into his lap and kisses your temple. “You’re lucky you’re cute. I don’t usually tolerate being conquered like this.”

Bri smirks from behind his teacup. “I rather think you conquered her, Rog.”

“Oh, a rare good one from Bri!” Freddie trills as everyone laughs, although John soon busies himself with clearing empty bottles and cigarette butts off the table.

“Yes,” Roger agrees. “Against her superior judgment, I finally won her over. Only took eight months. Which is approximately...wait, let me count...seven and a half months longer than it has ever taken me before.”

You trace your fingertips across his stubbled cheeks, his soft lips, his little dark blond tufts of sideburns. “No one knows how to say no to you, do they?”

“It’s impossible. I’m too charming. Blindingly heroic. Perseus in the flesh.” He kisses your forehead and steadies you, his hands on your waist, as the brakes squeal and the tour bus lurches to a halt.

Freddie leaps to his feet and claps. “Alright, darlings! Off to the new digs we go. Deaky, hand me my shoes, they’re under the table...yes, right there...and toss over Brian’s hideous clogs as well.”

You help the roadies and the band drag luggage into the hotel (no small feat, as the elevator is out of order), unpack your toothbrush and hairbrush and a floral-patterned dress for dinner, giggle as you listen to Roger’s feral, raspy singing in the shower. It’s something about loving a car, how perfectly on-brand for him. Then Roger goes to fetch Freddie and John for dinner while you find Brian. Bri is collapsed on his bed in a striped t-shirt and jeans, freshly-washed and dewy, gazing up at the ceiling in a daze.

You tap gently on the doorframe. “Bri? You want to join us for dinner? There’s a sushi place a few blocks away that’s a local legend, apparently. Lots of veggie options too.”

He looks over at you. You haven’t spoken about the argument since you had it two months ago. Brian sometimes grimaces or smirks or rolls his willowy viridescent eyes, but he never says anything; not to you, and not to Roger as far as you’re aware. “I’m sorry,” he says simply. “I may have been out of line before. Incorrect, even.”

“No need to apologize, Bri. I’ve forgotten all about it.” You haven’t, but there’s no reason for Brian to know that.

“I just want what’s best for you. For you to be happy.”

“I know, Brian.” You cross the room and take his long, moon-white, artful hands in your own. “I’m sorry.”

“You’ll be in the wedding party, won’t you? I know Chris will ask.”

“Of course. And I’ll proudly wear whatever dreadfully tacky and uncomfortable bridesmaid dresses she picks out.”

“Even if they’re a frightful shimmery green?”

“Oh god.” You swallow noisily. “I’ll still do it. And then burn the photos.”

Brian chuckles as he climbs out of bed. “In a stroke of luck, I suspect she’ll ask you to take the pictures. So you can avoid being in them as much as you’d like. And conveniently lose the unflattering ones.”

You study him thoughtfully. “Are you happy, Brian?”

“I am. Chrissie’s excited, my parents are thrilled, they’ll be sitting in the front row with the proudest smiles you’ve ever seen. Next comes a proper house, and children, and all the rest of it.” But something in those mellow olivey eyes is resigned, melancholy. His words from two months ago echo in your skull: It’s necessary. It’s self-preservation. Because sometimes the people who set us on fire would burn us alive.

“Do you still think about New Orleans?” you ask softly. About the woman he’d fallen in love with there before you ever met Queen, about the utopian passion he never quite stops searching for. Everyone has demons, secrets, shadowy trenches like cracks in porcelain; you’ve learned all about Brian’s. What about Roger’s? What about mine?

He shrugs, staring out the window at the dusky skyline of Yokohama. “Maybe I’ll always think about New Orleans. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have to grow up and start taking responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” you reply cynically, before you can stop yourself. “Is that all love is about anymore?”

“Not for you. Not for Roger. You both want your freedom, your adventure, your true and uncomplicated love. And you’ll get to keep it.”

For now. But you don’t say that. Instead, you smile appeasingly and gesture for Brian to follow you out into the hallway.

The others are waiting by the door to the stairwell: John in a smart grey suit, Freddie in his black-and-yellow jacket, Roger in sunglasses and a ridiculous leopard-print vest he’d dug out of a trashcan somewhere and precariously tall boots.

“At last, Nurse Nightingale and my darling Brian!” Freddie chirps. “Come on, I’m positively famished, and also I’ve bet five pounds that I can consume more sake shots than Roger and I could really use the dough.”

Roger pushes through the door, leading the way. “Prepare to lose!”

“Roger, please,” you implore. “New livers don’t grow on trees, and I can’t give you half of mine. I’m the wrong blood type.”

Roger laughs as he bounds down the steps, then whirls to grin up at you as he walks backwards. “Relax, Deaks will share! You’re type A, aren’t you John—?”

Roger’s heel slips and he plummets down the flight of stairs. He tumbles as the four of you shriek in horror and bolt after him, slams into the wall of the landing, ricochets off of it and plunges down the next flight as well. There’s blood, you think frenziedly as you descend, screaming Roger’s name. There’s blood all over the steps.

Roger, crumpled on the maroon-streaked landing, slowly unravels and groans. He glances down, appraises himself, then hammers his left fist against the concrete wall of the stairwell, roaring in raw agony and rage. “No no no no no no!”

“Roger—!”

And then you see it.

Roger’s right arm hangs uselessly, unnaturally, his snapped radius bloody and splitting through the skin.

[gingerwritess]

Y'all I am in need of some Loki fluff. Like, pure and unadulterated fluff and cuddles and just Loki and im s t a r v e d.

mama whipped this out way too quickly for you but um i thought this would be the cutest lil scene so here, a gift just for you

okay i adulterated it a lil and it got kinda smutty but it’s mostly fluff….sorry

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

Someone forgot to close the blinds before falling asleep last night.

Well…kind of understandable. Maybe you’ll let it slide considering this is the first time you’ve ever woken up to find that “someone” lying naked right next to you, hogging the sheets to keep himself somewhat decent.

Shoving your head under the pillow isn’t doing the trick and sunlight is still pouring into the room, so you groggily sit up with a yawn—oh, ouch.

Are those muscles supposed to be sore?

It’s a good sore, you think, swinging your legs off the bed and curling your toes into the carpet under the bed as you search for some clothes. Behind you, Loki is still snoring softly, an arm already laid across your side of the bed awaiting your return.

Your side of the bed…woah.

In the frenzy of passion and whatever the hell else had taken you last night, your shirt ended up in the far corner of the room, so you reach for the nearest piece of discarded clothing: oh, perfect. Loki’s shirt.

You can’t help but bite your lip with a grin and spare a glance back at the god behind you. Should you wear it? To do so seems so… childish? Stereotypical? Cliché? But the shirt, a simple button up with the sleeves still rolled up to the elbows from Loki’s completely unnecessary but completely successful attempt at seducing you, just seems like the perfect thing to cover your bare body.

Maybe he’ll like waking up to the sight.

You track down some new underwear and slip the shirt over that without a second thought, bare feet padding across the room to close to blinds. Each step sends a new jolt of pleasant aches through your legs, not enough to hurt, but just enough to serve as a perfect reminder of the lines you and Loki had crossed the night before.

Though the sunlight is illuminating the room in an incredible golden warmth, you’re not quite ready for that at this too early hour, and Loki seems to be squinting in his sleep, so you close the blinds—just for a little while longer. You peek out the window while you’re there; it’s absolutely beautiful outside. Spring is on its way now that the rains have paused and the blankets of snow have melted away, leaving behind a stunning expanse of vivid green grass, the morning dew on each blade sparkling in the glaring sun—

“I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a more heavenly sight.”

You whirl around with a start at the gravelly sound of Loki’s voice, and sure enough, he’s woken up, propping himself up on his elbows as he stares at you with an easy half smile on his face.

“I—uh, sorry,” you whisper though there’s no reason to stay quiet. “I thought you were still—sorry, um, g’morning, Loki.”

Why do you feel so exposed? He’s staring at you and apparently doesn’t plan on stopping, and you don’t really know what to do anymore. You feel suddenly stupid for wearing his shirt; yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have done that after all, so you quickly shrug the shirt from your shoulders.

“No, no, no,” Loki sits up more fully, reaching out a hand to you. “Keep that on. Please.”

He’s sitting up against the headboard now and well, now you are staring. He still is completely unclothed, his stomach bare and too tempting, and he has the thin sheet covering his groin just barely—he moves to stand up and you gulp, for some reason not ready to see him completely exposed again.

You’re pretty sure you just need to sit down before that happens again.

“My shirt suits you, darling,” he grins and stands up, the sheet dropping away. You instinctively shoot your gaze to the ceiling and hold up a hand to block yourself from seeing anything. Stepping closer to you, Loki laughs deep in his throat and takes your outstretched hand, bringing it to his lips. “What do you think you’re doing? Aren’t we past that now?”

“S-sorry,” you mumble and force your gaze back to his face, trying not to melt under his adoring smile and how he runs his thumb along your hand. Words don’t seem to be working properly for you right now, unlike Loki’s strange ability to have himself completely composed and eloquent even having just woken up from such an extensive night.

It’s…kind of intimidating, if you’re being honest.

“So I’m nailing this whole ‘morning after’ thing, aren’t I?” You groan sarcastically and pull your hand from his grip, trudging back to the bed to flop down on it and pull a pillow over your face. “What do you even say to someone after…after that? ‘Thanks?’ ‘You were great?’"

Loki is just a little too perfect. You’ve known that the entire time you’ve been together, ever since you first kissed him. You’ve always known that you are, for lack of a better word, unworthy of his affection. So then why on earth had he just let you, some awkward little Midgardian, bed him? And why is he pretending to have enjoyed it?

You can hear him chuckling softly and feel the bed dip beside you as he resumes his place at your side, locking an arm tightly around your waist. Light floods your eyes once again when he pulls the pillow off you, pressing his lips to your cheek. “Thanks,” he whispers and you can feel him grinning. “You were great.”

“Shut up, Loki.” You keep your face squished into the mattress.

“What has my lover so troubled?” He trails his lips down the side of your neck, slipping his shirt from your shoulder to attend to the skin there, too. “You’ve bedded a god, darling. I don’t mean to sound self-righteous…” he pauses and moves back to kiss the spot on your neck he had discovered last night, the one that had made you practically melt in his arms, “…but you should feel exceptionally proud of yourself.”

“I should be proud of myself for getting in your pants?”

Loki laughs and runs his tongue over the gentle bite he just left on the curve of your neck. “That’s one way of putting it.”

You mull it over for a moment, your stomach twisting into knots at the careful attention Loki’s paying to your neck, then finally turn your head to look at him. “So you weren’t just faking it all night?”

His jaw drops with a shocked little laugh and he puts a hand to the side of your face, running his thumb along your cheek. “I would have thought this spoke for itself,” he gestures downwards with a grin and you bury your face in the mattress again.

“Come on, I’m being serious!”

“As am I!” He barrels into you then, pushing you onto your back and hovering over you in one fluid motion—you keep your eyes squeezed shut though, still not able to look him in the eye. “Why in all the nine realms would I have had to fake anything under your devilish touch?”

You open your eyes to glare at him and give him a good poke in the stomach. “God of lies.”

“And yet you never fail to bring out the truth in me.”

“Okay, Shakespeare, take it easy.”

Loki just grins and leans down to place a soft kiss on your pouting lips, and within seconds you can’t stop the blissful sigh that escapes your throat.

“What is it going to take for me to convince you?” He murmurs when he pulls away, adoring eyes searching your face, then he dips back down to steal another kiss. “I’m prepared to spend the entire day in bed until you believe me.”

Your arms wind themselves around his neck before you have a chance to stop them, holding him closer and keeping him against you, and you feel his lips curling into a proud smirk on your own. You kiss him until he darts his tongue out to try and begin round two, then plant your hands on his shoulders and shove him off of you. “A tempting offer, but I’m hungry. How about breakfast and we never talk about this again?”

He’s still scowling about being ripped from your lips, but his eyes darken when you mention breakfast and he starts actually crawling towards you, eyes narrowed and stalking you. “Breakfast, yes…”

You gulp.

“Consider me starved.” His fingers wrap around your ankle and he lifts your leg to rest over his shoulder, starting to plant heated kisses down the inside of your leg as you scramble breathlessly back against the headboard.

“L-Loki, I’m…I’m serious—”

“Shh. Just lay back and let me distract you for a moment.”

And does he ever. This time it’s all about you, and you can tell he’s trying to prove himself to you, convince you of his feelings, a sentiment you do greatly appreciate through the haze of pleasure he’s trapped you under.

“Have I convinced you yet?” He asks when you finally rip the pillow off your face that you had grabbed and bit down on when he pushed you over the edge, desperately trying to muffle your cries—but also partially to hide your face from the god between your knees.

“I’m—fuck—I’m still hungry for actual food,” you pant and throw the pillow at him, which he only swats out of the air with a laugh before it can hit his infuriatingly perfect face.

“Oh, fine.” He climbs off the bed and tugs on a pair of black boxers, walking to your side of the bed and holding out a hand to help you up. “To be continued.”

Thank god he gave you his hand, cause your still trembling legs nearly give out when you stand up and you fall against his side as your head spins. “Shit,” you groan and he laughs, steadying you with a hand on your waist. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Then I will ensure you die happy,” he promises with a chuckle and takes your hand, leading you down the hallway into the kitchen as you hurry to keep up.

Moments later you’re leaning against the kitchen counter staring at Loki over the rim of a bowl of cereal, his shirt on your body fluttering open in the gentle breeze coming from the window Loki had opened.

He is positively glowing, leaning on the sink across the tiny kitchen from you, blowing gently on the steaming cup of tea in his hands. You’ve never seen him looking so alive, so youthful and content as he does now, just drinking his tea in his underwear with a little bit of sleep left in his eyes, his lips a touch redder and plumper than usual—thanks to your relentless kisses, you proudly remind yourself.

And his hair…you smile into your bowl so he doesn’t see you almost laugh. For what you think is the first time since you’ve been together, it’s not perfect and silky and flowing majestically in the wind like some hair commercial. It’s still fucking gorgeous, of course, but right now it’s tousled, tangled, and curly, curlier than you’ve ever seen it.

It’s easily the cutest thing you’ve ever seen.

There’s this one curl of hair that’s looped in on itself and is resting over his left temple, sticking out from his head and making you just want to run your hands through his hair again, smooth that little curl out—

“You’re staring, darling.”

You can’t help but give a sheepish laugh at being caught and point at his head. “Sex hair.”

He glances upwards as if trying to see it and laughs, running a hand through his hair—aw, there goes the little out of place curl. “I can only imagine how much of a mess I look right now.”

“Nuh uh, you’ve never looked better,” you assure him, finishing your cereal and walking over to put the empty bowl in the sink. Once you’re within his reach, Loki grabs you with an arm around your waist and pulls you into a one-armed hug against his chest, immediately attacking your neck with a million little kisses.

“Perhaps a shower, then?” He purrs as you double over laughing at the mercy of his lips, trying halfheartedly to squirm out of his grip. “Only to clean ourselves, of course. Just to wash my ‘sex hair,’ we won’t do anything else.”

“That’s believable,” you huff and push yourself out of his arms, turning around to stare at him a little longer. He’s much too smugly sipping his tea, waiting for you to do something, so you do, without really thinking: you reach up and take his face in both hands, lightly squishing his cheeks together into an adorable little pucker—his brow furrows in confusion as he stares down at you.

“You’re the cutest thing alive,” you giggle and jump up on tiptoe to land a quick peck on his pursed lips.

“No—I…what?”

Aw, he’s turning red. “I am not cute. Of all the adjectives you could have picked, you went with cute—ohh, oh.”

You just dragged your hands down his torso, letting your fingertips follow the bumps and ridges of his muscles to play with the waistband of his shorts, and his voice falters as he melts under your touch. “You were saying?”

He narrows his eyes at you, breathing a little heavier. “I was saying we need to go shower, right now.”

Biting back a grin, you glance down at your hands and notice a little mark on his right hipbone near your hand, just in that little dip of the v of muscles pointing down. A tiny bruise, it looks like, reddish purple and standing out boldly against the smooth planes of his skin—put there by you.

You poke the hickey without thinking, looking up at Loki with a bewildered laugh. “I did that.”

He raises an eyebrow and nods, taking your hand in his. “Yes, you did…you sound surprised.”

“I am surprised,” you tell him honestly, letting him lead you towards the bathroom. “I’m surprised we did that.”

“It was bound to happen, don’t you think?”

“Mmhm. Don’t get me wrong though, I’m surprised, but definitely not complaining.”

Loki shuts the door behind you and you find your back against it, one of his arms on either side of your head. Trapped beneath him, you grin up at him and reach around to slap his ass just to mess with him. “Not complaining at all.”

He laughs and runs a hand up your thigh, kissing you hard and pressing your back into the door. “I’d like to keep surprising you, if you’ll allow me,” he murmurs against your lips, wrapping his arms around your waist and starting to walk you backwards towards the little shower—wait a minute. Your little apartment’s shower barely fits you.

“Loki, wait, wait, wait, I’ve only ever heard horror stories about shower sex.” You lightly push him away and gesture at the shower. “Um, logistically speaking…this might not be the best idea?”

He hums in acknowledgement but surges back forward to meet your lips, a hand coming up to grip your jaw and kiss you harder. “Mm, I’m willing to risk it. I know we can make it work.”

You sigh and shrug Loki’s button up off your shoulders, dropping it to the floor and stepping over it as Loki’s eyes light up. “Fine.” You hold out your hand to him. “But if I slip and hit my head and die, I’m gonna kill you.”

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

hope you enjoyed, feel free to send me ideas!

loki tags: @bluediamond007@himitoshi@drakesfiance @destiel1597 @dangertoozmanykids101 @archy3001 @jcalpha1@yzssie @skullvieplu@forthesnakeofdragons@skulliebythesea @wegingerangelica@storiesfrommirkwood@agarwaeneth @adaliamalfoy @laurfangirl424@paradisaicsam@fitzsimmons-is-forever @ladylokimischief @katelinwrites@tarynkauai @polaristrange @loavesofmeat @canadian-ravenpuff-multishipper @lou-makes-me-strong@holyn0vak  @chocolatealmondmillk @swtnrholland @kenzieam @jessiejunebug @catticas@the-republic-and-face-of-texas@doralupin01@whitewitchdown@atomiccharmer @falconfeather23435 @babygirlicecream @avengrcs@vethrvolnir2 @bookgirlunicorn @wabisabigrl @myhealingstar @khaleesi-marvel @ei77777 @spacecrumbs @scarlettrosella @rocks-are-pretty-odd@confessionsofastrugglingteen @easilydistractedwriter@arttasticgreatnessoftheawesome77 @fluffyllamaswearinghats @milktearose

[hermannsthumb]

dhfsgjgjdhgkjhjksl Chaotic Idea: Herms accidentally runs into Alien Pollen in the lab but hear me out instead of like, horny, it makes him like,, Super Emotional,, sfgjkghl im,

THIS WAS A GREAT MESSAGE SO I WROTE IT AS A PROMPT

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Hermann says.

The real answer to Hermann’s question is absolute and unequivocal no, because it is definitely not safe, all of Newt’s carefully acquired research so far--i.e., acquired via poking the plant with various things he finds around the lab and taking the temperature of its soil--points to that, but Hermann already gets on him enough as is for all the weird toxic kaiju junk he leaves lying around and Newt really doesn’t want to incur anymore wrath against himself, so he lies. “Yep,” he says. “Uh, totally safe.” He’s got his eye pressed to his microscope to examine a piece of the plant (one of the blossoms, dusted with a strange purple pollen that seems to almost glitter in the fluorescent lights), and he doesn’t bother looking up at Hermann when he speaks.

This, as most of Newt’s choices in his day-to-day life, turns out to be a mistake.

“It smells rather nice,” Hermann says, and then there’s a strange, small exploding noise, like someone popping a paper bag, and Hermann says “Oh, no.”

“What’d you do?” Newt sighs, lifting his head and sliding his glasses back down, expecting to see the pot tipped over onto the floor or the plant shriveled up dead. He immediately panics, because that’s not the case: Hermann’s gone and touched the fucking thing.

He’s covered in a light layer of the purple pollen, top to bottom, unstylish haircut to unstylish shoes, finger still pressed to one pink leaf and frozen in shock. Newt freezes, too. He stares at Hermann. Hermann stares back. Hours seem to pass by. When it becomes apparent that Hermann isn’t about to drop dead, or sprout another head, or turn into some horrible Cronenberg-esque kaiju hybrid monster, Newt takes a cautious step towards him. “Hey, uh, Hermann. You good?”

“I believe so,” Hermann says, and finally pulls his hand away from the plant. He looks down at himself and tsks at the mess. “Oh, Newton, look what you’ve done.” He tries to brush some pollen off his sweater and fails. His following attempts to clean his glasses off don’t fair any better.

“What I’ve done?” Newt says. “Who goes around touching weird plants? I mean, other than me.”

“You told me it was safe,” Hermann hisses. “I didn’t think--”

He suddenly staggers to the side, cane clattering to the floor, hand flying out and catching onto the side of Newt’s work bench. He looks pale under the pollen.

Newt panics for a second time. “Hermann!” he shrieks, and rips his work gloves off and rushes to Hermann’s side. Hermann’s skin is warm to the touch when Newt herds him into the closest desk chair (Newt’s), and his eyes are strangely unfocused. “I’ll get you some water,” Newt says, but Hermann catches his wrist and draws Newt back to his side. He shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says, voice high. “Really, I’m just a bit dizzy. Nothing to worry yourself over.”

“You’re sweating,” Newt says. 

“Am I?” Hermann says. “How strange.”

Newt tries to pull his arm away, deadset on getting Hermann that water, but Hermann’s started...stroking his wrist. “Newton,” he says.

“Uh,” Newt says.

“Newton,” Hermann says again, and then he says Newt’s name three more times with worrying increasing levels of softness.

Newt’s watched enough sci-fi (and, yeah, sci-fi porn) to know where this is going. “Oh, shit,” he says. “Was that some weird sex pollen? Hermann--” He jerks his arm away hard, and Hermann drops his hand like he’s been burned. He frowns at Newt. “Listen, buddy,” Newt says. “Let’s get you into the shower. You really don’t know what you’re doing.” (It figures that the only scenario in which Hermann would ever want to bang him is when he’s sex-pollen’d out of his mind, but Newt’s not going to dwell on that right now.)

Hermann does not budge. “Newton,” he sighs, blinking wide eyes at Newt. “Dear boy.” He reaches out--Newt tenses--and pats Newt’s knee--Newt un-tenses. “You mean a great deal to me, you know.”

“Dear boy?” Newt chokes out. Somehow, this is weirder than Hermann coming onto him would’ve been.

“You always have,” Hermann says. “And I know I don’t always--” To Newt’s wild alarm, his eyes start to fill with tears. Newt’s never seen Hermann cry before. He isn’t really sure what to do. “I know I can be cross with you sometimes, but you’re my dearest friend.” He sniffs. “You’re more than that. You’re--” But before Hermann can finish the thought (to Newt’s disappointment), he curls his fingers in the front of Newt’s shirt, tugs him forward, and plants his face in Newt’s chest.

Newt watches his shoulders shake as he proceeds to cry two large wet patches into the fabric. He pats Hermann’s shoulder awkwardly. “Whew. Okay,” he says. “I really care about you too, Hermann.”

Hermann sniffles.

Newt squeezes his shoulder this time. “You’re, you know. My best friend, too.” He wonders if Hermann rubbed some of that wonky powder onto him--he’s starting to feel a little touchy-feely himself. God, this is embarrassing. He hopes no one walks in and finds them like this. It’ll be difficult to explain. “You’re my only friend,” he admits, after a few seconds’ consideration.

It’s certainly interesting data. And the hug is...really, really nice.

[somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds]

So. *cracks knuckes* I hear you have an au idea for Gary Green. Could you maybe talk about it a bit more? *crosses fingers* (im terrible im sorry)

 *crackles knuckles* settle down around the fire, I’ll spin a half-formed tale that is slowly growing into a real fic. Inspiration comes from my lovely Discord server and @agentmarymargaretskitz who encourages all my cracky AUs.

So John, Ava, and Gary are out on a mission for the Legends. This is after the whole ‘good and evil’ talk (sidenote: forever bitter that that was not an ONSCREEN conversation but i digress) so the tension between the two is a real ‘will they/won’t they’ mixed with the sexual tension as always. Ava doesn’t want to be here, but somebody needs to be a responsible adult.

Eventually, after *insert bullshit magic yadadada* Gary turns a corner and BAM.

“Gary, what happened?” Ava yells after hearing him yelp.“I - think I ran into a wall,” Gary calls back, rubbing his forehead, touching over his temples because damn, that’s what the pain feels like but - there’s no wall. There’s nothing. It just feels like a migraine.

He goes home that night and the headache has spread to a neck and back ache, as well. Oh well, probably pulled a muscle, it’ll be fine.

For some reason, he eats five eggs (scrambled a little raw) for breakfast and the ache is dull, humming under his skin. His mouth actually waters as Mona passes by his work desk with food for the creatures, he’s - starving.

Nate doesn’t question his eating of an entire can of chicken liver pate, plain, at his desk.

The headache’s back, and it’s worse.

It’s soothed slightly by a rare steak he makes at home, but now it feels like he’s buzzing with energy as he lays drained on the couch.

“I - think I have an iron deficiency,” he murmurs to nobody, as per usual.

There’s a purr from the back of his brain: No.

It’s all he remembers before falling asleep.

For the next three days, he’s basically been eating nothing but protein yet he’s never felt more tired in his life. Nobody says a thing to him.“Sorry Green, got the last 8 O’Clock,” McNeil laughs at him, the treacherous Keriug already filling up his cup. Gary rolls his eyes, but he finds he can’t roll them back forward again as words escape his mouth“You touch my coffee again, I’ll rip your lungs out and feed them to you.”

His eyes suddenly roll forward again and he blinks a few times before giving a high, awkward laugh. at McNeil’s startled expression. 

“You - you know me, not the same without morning coffee!” He takes whatever’s in the communal pot and sits back down at his desk, shaking his head and blinking a few more times. He gets through until lunch until he - suddenly blacks out.

He wakes up again in the afternoon, in the empty bathroom on the -3rd floor that nobody ever uses, covered in blood. That’s enough to make him panic, never mind the three empty pint containers of blood, a fourth in his hand and all over his mouth.

He stumbles out of the stall and washes his face in the sink, and when he looks up his reflection is smirking with coal-black eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns away, that purring voice pressing behind his temple. 

Hello.

“Uh, hi. What - who are you?” he asks, because damn his ingrained politeness.A friend.“I - I don't believe that.”Gary. All I want to do is help you.“...could you - not, do that,” Gary muttered, cleaning the messy stall.It’s taken longer to gain any control over you than normal humans.“...sorry?”Pure souls are hard to break.“I’m - not - a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”Oh, I know. You think about it a lot.“Don’t - don’t read my thoughts!”Too late. You’re tired, let me - drive. Close your eyes, let me-“No! Shut up!” Gary says too loudly out loud as he walks into the break room. He grabs a danish and scurries back out of there to avoid confrontation.

And instead of that, he walks right into John Constantine, looking ruggedly handsome (like always dammit Gary shut up) while he’s got crumbs all over his lips and dark circles under his eyes.“Hey, Squire,” John smirks with a cigarette between his lips even if the building’s nonsmoking. Gary opens his mouth to respond back when that awful migraine, like claws sinking into his frontal lobe, returns and he winces.“Sorry, migraines,” he explains in a rush, heading back to his desk without another look his way.

It’s too much to deal with, he opens the door to Ava’s office, knowing he looks like a wreak and she’s - so annoyed to see him, it’s so obvious, and he tries to explain, Ava, Boss-Lady, I’m - I’m sick, I’m sick, something’s wrong - “something’s wr-”“Gary, just go home,” Ava says curtly, going back to her meeting with the Legends. He lets the door close and heads on the walk home alone, only his feet carry him somewhere else.

When he’s finally back in his apartment, eating through two packages of raw lamb, the voice comes back.They’re mean to you.“I - they’re my friends, I was - I was being annoying.”Friends shouldn’t do that.“You - what do you know about friends? Where - where are you from?”Hell.“Okay. Okay, that’s normal. Why - why are you inside of me? Oh, no, that came out wrong.”Reasons you can’t know, not yet.“...cool. Look - look, don’t bother possessing me. Look at me, I’m worthless. I trip over my own carpet four times a week sober.”I...can help.“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”People deserve it.“I don’t need to hurt them, though.”Humans are dumb, Gary. All of them. You, not so much.

It’s weird, to have this conversation with essentially your own brain as you speak out loud and then have words and voice that aren’t yours come out of your mouth.

Give me a chance to take control. I’ll give you what you want, then you can let me what what I want, the demon says. (Gary’s calling him Joe, because his vocal chords cannot replicate the name that swirled in his brain)

“...you get one day to convince me,” Gary states firmly, and no sooner do those words leave his lips then his vision goes black.

When he wakes up, it’s to everything he’s ever wanted in the world. The A/C’s never on the fritz, the neighbors are quiet, the shower always has hot water, the apartment’s bigger, and there’s - a blonde warlock in his bed that kisses him before Gary has to leave for work.

He has his OWN office at work, his own Keriug, he’s employee of the month and number one agent, all the bells and whistles and everyone is actually glad to see him and greet him, even Ava, even all the Legends. Everything is so goddamn perfect, especially a visit from said blonde warlock in the afternoon, in his lap in his own office, smiling that rare real smile.

And then John Constantine says to him, Gary Green: “I love you.”

Gary sits straight up from where’s he’s been out cold on his couch, gasping for air and he doesn’t know why, he just knows his heart is racing because - 

What’s wrong? It’s what you want.“It’s not,” Gary whispers, lying but not lying, picking up his phone. “I don’t want lies. I don’t want to be lied to.”

It’s 6 o’clock. He’s been MIA an entire day and a half. There’s a single message, from Ava, at two in the afternoon: Gary, why aren’t you at work? You need to call if you can’t come in, remember.

That’s it. Nothing about his well-being, his whereabouts, about him.

Gary throws his phone into the opposite armchair and cries into a stupid throw pillow he got as a stupid giveaway at an office supply store. Not even a housewarming pillow.

There’s a hesitant warmth, just under the degree of burning, under the skin of his aching shoulder, spreading down his back.I want to help.

“How?”Whatever you need.

The knock at the door and the British accented “Gary, love, you awake?” sends Gary scrambling to shove bloody wrappers under the couch, quickly rinsing his face off before answering the door even as the voice hisses Noooot Constantine. “Hush,” Gary whispers harshly before throwing the door open.

John takes in Gary’s red-tinged eyes, dark circles beneath those, the general paleness and exhaustion. “Weren’t around today.”

“Sick,” Gary offers quickly. “Think - I have a bug. I’m fine, don’t - your’e not worried, duh, just - thanks, thank you for - checking in.”

There’s something - wrong, John can’t put a finger on it, but just nods in agreement. There’s too long a pause before the goodbyes, enough time for an embrace or a kiss, but neither offers either option. The door just closes between them afterwards.

I said humans were dumb, Gary.“Not - not all humans.”You aren’t. John Constantine, of all the humans, is the dumbest.“Hey, no, don’t say that stuff.”Yes, because you want to fuck-“Do - NO, that’s not why-”I can read your thoughts. Humans usually don’t break out of those fantasies like what I put you in. Why did you?“...it’s not real.”The warmth wraps around his arm, if that were possible. This is.Gary actually smiled. “...yeah, it is.”

Apparently, it’s easy to get used to possession, so long as your demon stays well-fed. Bloodlust can be avoided as long as there is actual blood to consume. Gary knows this butchery too well by the end of the first two weeks.

We should kill him, the demon tells Gary when McNeil steals the last K-cup again.“No, I said we wouldn’t do that....unless we had a reason.” Truth be told, he’s probably on borrowed time before he finally kills, he knows that. So far, the blood’s working to keep him satisfied.You hate him. That’s a reason. Or the man downstairs for being loud. We can rip his lungs out.“Not gonna happen.”

Ava’s in a very important business meeting with Mr. Heywood, and Gary’s leading the Legends to the waiting room outside her office to wait it out.

“So what’s this about?” Sara asks him.“Boss lady won’t let me say, you know that.”“Mick.”Oh god, Gary thinks before his vision tints into black tones.Before Mick can grab Gary, all he sees are Gary’s eyes visibly turning solid black for a brief moment before he has one hand in Mick’s collar and holding him up against the wall and snarling, “I said to WAIT.”

Then he shifts back and looks terrified for a second, dropping Mick down and offering sheepishly with a laugh, “I - sorry, no coffee. Did I mention I’ve been working out? Gotta run!”

He’s out of there, “What was that?”He was bothering you.“How did I do that?”I did it.

Then Gary’s flicking his hand to the right and McNeil’s chair spins out of control and he falls out of it onto the linoleum, precious coffee spilling everywhere.

Gary smiles despite himself. “We can’t do this a lot.”But we can do it?“...we can do it sometimes.”

For more, stay tuned for the upcoming fic!!!! Whew, I hope you like this NOVELLA that I answered you with!

[sweetestt-devottionn]

Hug Me

AN: This was inspired by a fic that i read before hope u enjoy it! sorry for any grammar mistakes english isn’t my first language, i’m open to criticism tho:)

==========

It seems like yesterday I was happy with nothing. Today, I make a wish to the moon. I told her if I can see you once again, I'll do one last dance with you to this song.

To remember you forever,

Just one last dance...

==========

Have you ever heard the word 'breathless'?

It has different meaning of its own if you put it in different use. One could describe the meaning of extreme surprise where you just froze in your spot, mouth hung agape as you look at the most precious thing in you possession in awe.

It truly was a wonderful description to appreciate such blessings.

Yet, in another meaning, one that you make sense of literally, has such a different effect, with a stark contrast between light and darkness, akin of a nightmare in the middle of a day dream.

==========

Breathless

[breth-lis]

1. without breath or breathing with difficulty; gasping; panting:

2. dead; lifeless.

==========

Everything happened so fast. One moment she was just standing there in her comfy clothes, casually washing the dishes then the next moment. She saw her lying on the floor as the plate she was holding dropped and shattered against the hard wood floor. It might be just at the spur of the moment, where she exists and everything fell apart. She was rooted to the spot, head staying on the same spot her love used to stand just moments ago. Slowly, but surely everything came rushing back, like a river current overcoming any hindrance. Her hands were shaking when she finally got control of her body.

"LISA!" She screamed then, heart gripped with the panic brewing inside her at seeing her lover so frail, surrounded with the broken glass scattered around her body. She was shaken with pity that at such a tragic misery her love was still attention's sweet centre. Painted was the tragically beautiful story of their journey, started with her world brushed with dark muddy colours.

“oh mygod ohmygod,”

Jisoo swore she never ran so fast in her life.

In the blink of an eye, she was holding her lover's head on her lap as her fingers fumbled with her phone, the trembling digits struggling to call 9-1-1.

"I need your help please... She fainted....I-" That was the last thing Lisa heard as the black spots on her vision finally swallowed her whole. When the last sigh left her lips, her body became slack.

And that,

was the night everything changed.

==========

The trip to the hospital was not one on her favourite list of trips but, at seeing her lover sudden decline of health, she wondered just how long it would take for the ambulance to reach the hospital. She sighed over and over again as she held Lisa’s hand close and kissed each of her knuckles.

She choked back a sob as her eyes welled with tears and the state Lisa was in. Oxygen mask covered her face, and somehow in the span of minutes she had only just noticed how pale and gaunt her love actually is, a drastic difference to her usually fair and healthy body. She cursed herself, hating the fact that she had failed to see the symptoms that might have had explained the ongoing situation.

“I’m sorry baby, I should have looked after you better and stayed home more, fuck I’m- I’m fucking sorry I shouldn’t have I-,” Her speech was cut off due to the sob threatening to burst out.

“pl-please just wake u-up please…”

It may seem unusual for those close to her but,

She prayed that night.

To whatever gods there are out there, she just hoped they’d listened.

When the sound of cars honking filled her hearing and the pounding of her heart reverberated throughout her body, she closed her lids tightly. Lips mouthing an inaudible prayer as tears welled in her eyes. She held her lover's hand a little tighter, yet somehow, she still refused to cry.

‘Me and my pride’ she muses.

She refrained herself to believe anything but her lover being okay again.

She had to be okay..

She just had to...

==========

The short trip to the hospital turned out to be a long one. The seconds and the minutes turned into hours as she waited outside the ER. She paced back and forth for she knew that there was something wrong, though she refused to believe it. Realising she might have to tell Chaeyoung, she steeled herself against the obvious thunderstorm and pressed call.

It doesn’t take long for the said best friend/ sister to pick up, and for some reason she felt guilty, like it was somehow her fault when the first hello filtered through the phone.

“Jisoo unnie? Are you there?”

“Umm… Chaeng, I-I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t know what just happened I-“

“Unnie? Please calm down, what happened? Is Lisa okay?”

“She-“

“She’s just been admitted to the hospital, Chaeyoung-ah…”

“WHAT?! JENNIE WE NEED TO GO NOW!”

“Chaeng- I..” She tried to say when the phone beeps, indicating the end of the call.

They came 15 minutes after she hang up their call, appearance so dishevelled some might think they’re some kind of a hobo.

“Is she okay?” Jennie asked as Chaeyoung was currently feeling too wrecked to even function.

“I- I don’t know , Jen.. One minute she was standing and the next she was suddenly on the floor unconscious.” She explained as her hands swung wildly in her manic.

Jennie said nothing but pulled Jisoo into a tight hug in which she immediately melt into, followed by Chaeyoung as the three of them relied on each other for the comfort they badly needed at the moment.

Their million questions were finally answered another hour later. In midst of her mini panic, the doctor handling Lisa's case came out of the room and approached her jittery self.

"I'm sorry...”

That was all Jisoo needed to hear to know that, she was not okay, her lover never was. She knew, Lisa knew that she didn't have much time left and yet, she still smiled and act that bubbly personality of hers. Always unyielding, always without flaw, not even once.

A gasp was heard, yet she couldn’t care less.

Jisoo pondered, just when did Lisa became such a good liar?

"I hate you so much..." She sobbed as her back slid against the white hospital wall. Its horror and constant dullness that painted her peripheral stayed unflinching. Leaving her, to fend for herself after the heart wrenching news that might just destroyed every good thing she had left in her life.

‘such a tragic life of a dreamer’’Such a pity’

I wonder Lisa,

I do wonder...

==========

Jisoo spent a restless night back at home. She laid on her side of the bed and took in the unusual coldness of her own personal sanctuary. Her stare resided on the empty right side of her bed. The golden sparks in her eyes had faded hours ago, only the remnants of it stayed. It had turned tedious brown in its departure.

She breathed deep, trying to remember her scent. Truth to be told, it had been hard for her to leave her love alone on the hospital bed, but she was not one to defy doctor's order. Though she really gave the nurses a run for their money when they need to forcefully dragged her away from her lover's limp body.

She decided then, she should have fought against their grasps harder, for Lisa was worth every struggle.

Every. Single. One.

==========

Days passed in a blur after the news. It was broadcasted on their social media accounts that they will be taking a long hiatus with the reasons unknown. It sure did cause an uproar in their fandom with their seemingly abrupt disappearance but in the end they couldn’t do anything but to accept their idols’ decision.

Realising the ticking time that was eating away her love’s life, Jisoo brought her everywhere her heart wished for. Her heart clenched every time she saw Lisa's face light up when she brought her to places she had never been before, knowing any moment now could be her last.

She smiled bitterly at that. Her time was limited and she was fucking desperate for any kind of miracle. She prayed every night, for something, anything, to happen.

Because she would give it all just for her to be okay again. That way, they would be able to do the future they had planned out together. In their future, they would be living in a 2 storey mansion with Dalgomie, Leo, Luca and 4 kids running around the house. They would grow old together, wasting their time watching the sunset every evening with a warm cup of tea.

Fate always said otherwise, because the one time she actually found someone who loved her for her. They took her away from Jisoo.

Even sometimes, love was not enough...

==========

It was another cold evening on the midst of December. The couple was snuggling on the couch just enjoying each other's warmth. Jennie and Chaeyoung were out, buying food for their dinner. No words were spoken, though the comfortable silence of the empty dorm was broken when Lisa called out to Jisoo.

"Jisoo?" Lisa asked quietly, head laying slack against Jisoo's chest.

"Hmm?" She responded, hand moving to stroke Lisa's hair gently.

"Can we sing right now?"

Her hand stilled from her movement as she looked down at her. Usually, Jisoo would have laughed at the random request but the look on Lisa's face, left her stunned. Absentmindedly, Jisoo started to sing one of her favourite song, Long Live.

It really was ironic.

"I said remember this moment

In the back of my mind...” She started, voice wavering a bit.

She was shaken out of her reverie when Lisa suddenly sat up and started pulling at her hands, urging her to stand with her.

“The time we stood with our shaking hands

The crowds in stands went wild

We were the kings and the queens

And they read off our names

The night you danced like you knew our lives

Would never be the same ..."

At this point, they were both dancing around in their apartment, not caring about what would happen in the future. Live in the now they said.

“You held your head like a hero...”

Lisa sang, voice sounding off key but none of them care anyways. She crossed her arms and posed as superman pretending to be showing her ‘spectacular biceps’ that had become bony and last muscular over the past few months. She nodded her head at Jisoo cueing at her to sing the next lines.

"On a history book page

It was the end of a decade

But the start of an age..."

Jisoo stayed quiet and instead, she only looked at her funnily. Lisa had no choice but to continue singing with a grumpy voice.

"Come on CHICHU!! I SAID ONE, TWO, THREE... SING WITH ME!!" She held out her hand between them as if to share the microphone for the both of them.

"Long live the walls we crashed through

All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made"

And bring on all the pretenders

One day we will be remembered...”

This time Jisoo did join the fun, screaming with her lover as they belted out the lyrics. They might just sound like dying whale and the neighbours would surely filled out a noise complaint but seriously, they could careless right now. No headlines, no media, no worries. Just Jisoo and Lisa singing off key in their penthouse apartment.

"I said remember this feeling

I passed the pictures around

Of all the years that we stood there on the sidelines

Wishing for right now..."

Lisa continued as she looked at Jisoo and pulled on a funny face, successfully bringing a long overdue smile on her girlfriend's face.

"We are the kings and the queens

You traded your baseball cap for a crown..."

Jisoo gestured to Lisa's head as if to put on an imaginary crown on her. Lisa smiled at the gesture and did an over exaggerated curtsy before standing up straight to urged Jisoo to keep singing as she swayed from left to right, doing some weird dancing of her own.

"When they gave us our trophies

And we held them up for our town

And the cynics were outraged

Screaming, "This is absurd"

'Cause for a moment a band of thieves in ripped up jeans got to rule the world..."

Jisoo belted the lyrics as she knelt on the floor like a rock star. Lisa was having the time of her life as she rolled down on the floor laughing her ass off.

"Love live the wall we crashed through

All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

I was screaming, "Long live all the magic we made"

And bring on all the pretenders..." Jisoo sang loudly.

I'm not afraid," Lisa continued with a big grin on her face.

"Long live all the mountains we move

I had the time of my life

Fighting dragons with you

I was screaming, "Long live the look on your face"

And bring on all the pretenders

One day we will be remembered

Hold on to spinning around

Confetti falls to the ground

May these memories break our fall..."

Jisoo actually sang beautifully this time, giving it her all as she pour her heart for their impromptu Lichu-karaoke session. As she opened her mouth to sing the next stanza, Lisa had already beaten her to it.

"Will you take a moment,

promise me this...

That you'll stand by me forever

But if God forbid fate should step in,

And force us into a goodbye..."

Lisa sang the lines softly to Jisoo as she put her hand over her heart as tears welled in her eyes.

"If you have children someday

When they point to the pictures,

Please tell them my name..."

Her voice cracked as she sang it, knowing the reality of it all. Jisoo rushed to comfort her but one hand motion from Lisa and another plea of "I'm okay," left her with no choice but to continue the song.

"Tell them how the crowds went wild

Tell them how I hope they shine

Long live the walls we crashed through

I had the time of my life, with you...”

Jisoo presented Lisa with a teary smile as she pointed her fingers at her. She furiously wiped her tears away, and when she belted the next line, she was determined to end this in a good note.

All smiles no frowns.

"Long, long live the walls we crashed through

All the kingdom lights shined just for me and you

And I was screaming, "long live all the magic we made"

And bring on all the pretenders

I'm not afraid..." She sang as she put on a brave face and a salute at Lisa, getting a smile out in return. Jisoo gave her a signal and they sang the last lines together.

"Singing long live all the mountains we moved

I had the time of my life

Fighting dragons with you

And long, long live the look on your face

And bring on all the pretenders

One day, we will be remembered..."

They finished the song quickly and enveloped each other in a tight embrace, tears still streaming down their faces.

"Long live us...” Jisoo whispered against her head.

"Long live you...” She added with a smile, before pressing a light kiss on Lisa’s forehead.

You will be remembered...

==========

Lisa did last longer than expected as she somehow managed to get past through her birthday and Jisoo's. Though another incident might have barraged their way at her.

On the morning after Jisoo's birthday, Lisa had stupidly fell off her bed. But that, was not the problem. It was the excruciating pain that followed after that. She swore she had never screamed so loud in her life.

Hearing her screams, Jisoo bolted upstairs towards their shared bedroom. Fingers fumbling with her phone ready to call 9-1-1.

This was giving her a sense of déjà vu. Added with the fact that in dire times like this, Jennie and Chaeng always seemed to be away at an important meeting with their management, leaving Jisoo alone to deal with a crying Lisa.

Seeing her Lisa laying helplessly on the floor, screaming her head off, Jisoo panic level accelerate to 100 real quick. She knelt down beside the whimpering girl and wafted her hand through her hair, while whispering sweet nothings to soothe her pain.

"You're gonna be okay, baby.."

You will,

You have to...

==========

"She fell the wrong way, Chaeyoung. I've said this to you a million times. Why won't you believe me?" Jisoo hissed at Chaeyoung as they walked down the hospital halls to Lisa's room. She was being prepped for immediate surgery because apparently her stupid fall could possibly cause paralysis. Stupid bed and stupid floor, she had said.

"Wow unnie , Okay I believe you, but seriously you need to chill. You're basically on fire right now.." Chaeyoung tread carefully, afraid to get Jisoo madder than she already was.

"You're dealing with this better than I ever was Chaeng. How are you okay with her dying?" She ranted, frustrated.

"I'm not, and I never will be okay with her dying, so don't even try to say that. But, do you know what makes me strong unnie? It was her wish. She personally told me that she wanted her last days to be full of smiles, not tears; not frowns. So I tried, I really tried my best every day to keep the smile on my face, to keep the happy thoughts on my head as if she wasn't dying. I had to respect her wish. I had to, unnie..." Chaeyoung confessed as she blinked rapidly to avoid the tears from falling, knowing Lisa would caught up with her act once she saw a faint tear marks on her face.

"I'm sorry Chaeyoung-ah, I-I didn't know,"

"It's okay unnie, please just trust me on this. You need to respect her wish too okay?"

"All smiles?"

"All smiles."

==========

It had not been great.

Lisa was paralysed from the waist down. But she had not reacted poorly. She had taken a moment of silence after the news, both her lover and best friends looking at her expectantly, gauging her reaction. What happened next was not expected by the both of them.

With a defeated sigh, Lisa had looked back up towards the doctor and asked a simple question.

"Can I go back home now?"

The meaning behind her words were clear, she didn't want to talk about it and it was to be expected. Yet, that split moment when she looked at Jisoo at the word 'home', really messed with Chaeyoung's emotion. She had lived, knowing that her best friend and sister had found her home. A place for her to belong, yet, it was wretched from her grasp just after she found it.

Home…

Lost.

==========

Today was the day the two brotp? finally get to hang out. Though, Jennie realised she should have done this sooner. She had immediately became fast friends with Lisa after their first meeting with each other during their trainee days. She had said, the only reason they got along so well was because their ‘stupid aegyo tendencies and annoyingly cute gummy smiles ’ cheers to Jennie for that. She knew her gummy smiles are valuable winning weapon. So to speak, with their fast growing friendship and what not, this news had truly affected Jennie deeply.

They were strolling around the central park, not a lot of people were in sight which was a plus to the both of them.

"Jennie, if you didn't stop thinking, smoke might came out of your head any time now," Lisa suddenly said, causing her to pause in her movement.

"Shut it Manoban, or do I have to hit you to do so?" Jennie clapped back at her best friend who now appeared offended. She put a dramatic hand over her chest and said.

"Really? You'll hit a cripple? WHERE ARE YOUR MORALS?"

"Where yours are?" Jennie sassed.

"Shit, let me call Satan. He has them. Along with my list of fucks I do not give."

"Oh please, SOMEONE PLEASE GET THIS GIRL SHE'S ANNOYING ME," Jennie was all but shout.

"Watch it Nini or I'll tell Chaengie about your behaviour."

"You are such a tattle-teller, you b*tch. You disgust me," Jennie said in her best Kim-Kardashian-accent as she flipped her hair to get her point across.

"My energy should not be wasted talking to you, move along please I need to get my ice cream," Lisa commanded from her wheelchair bossily.

"You're lucky you're cute or else I would've left you somewhere," Jennie complained as she grudgingly started to push the wheelchair to the ice cream shop.

==========

Miracles do happen, sadly it didn't always last.

==========

Lisa knew her time was coming, knowing she had outlived the doctor's predictions; this was bound to happen anytime soon. It was a little after the New Year. She was being woken up, with severe chest pains. She screamed which immediately woke Jisoo up.

"Lisa baby, what's wrong?" She asked soothingly, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

Jisoo didn't get an answer from Lisa except for her occasional whimpers which caused her to curl further into herself, hoping to make the pain stop.

She knew her time was coming,

But she sure as heck was not ready for it.

==========

Lisa was hooked to a ventilator that night, her lungs had failed her and she didn't expect any less. Seeing her lover so fragile against the hospital bed, Jisoo made a beeline to the chair beside the bed and held her sleeping hand tightly.

She leaned her head closer to the bed and rests it at the edge of the pillow. It might have been an uncomfortable position but she wanted to, she need, to remember her.

I don't want to forget...

Right before she continued her restless slumber, Jisoo hummed sotto voce. She sang a song very dear to her as a prayer, and God, she did hope Lisa would listen close in her slumber.

“Please stay by my side,

Please stay with me..

Please don't let go of me, the one who's holding your hand...

I love you,

I love you...

In the long silence, a sound comes, screaming

From my foolish and weak heart..."

==========

The goodbye was the hardest.

==========

Lisa was looking at Jisoo as best as she could through her half lidded eyes. She could she the hudled figures of her best friends standing on the other side of her hospital bed. God, she was so tired, and she had long accepted her fate. She stared at Jisoo with any adoration she could muster and smiled weakly.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" She suddenly said, breaking Jisoo out of her trance.

"I want to remember you."

"Don't do this to yourself baby, please"

"I- I can't Lice, please I can't forget you. I don't want you to go. I LOVE YOU! Why is that not enough?" She sobbed as she desperately cling to her hospital gown to discard any possible distance between the two of them.

"It doesn't matter if I'm not physically beside you, unnie. Please don't cry, love, I'll look after you from the sky. You won't forget me because I'm here with you. I stayed in your heart. I'll visit you in your dreams, there you can relinquish all your joys and sorrows to me. You'll remember me, just like the way my heart will call out to you in the after life..."

"I love you, Lice. I'd give it all just for one more day with you..."

"Don't dwell- on your sadness please, all smiles, okay?" Lisa had to stop in between words to catch her breath as her lungs started failing on her.

“Unnie, if it is time for me to go, can you take care of Jisoo unnie for me?”

Lisa never said it to anyone  in particular neither Jennie or Chaeyoung, but the message was clear. They responded with a tight squeeze on her arm and a teary smile.

Their last moments together were spent with Jisoo brushing the remnants of Lisa hazel brown hair, as they enjoyed the silence that sang lullabies for those in passing. It wasn’t long when the silence was broken by none other than Lisa.

"Can I get one last kiss before I go to sleep, Chu?"

“Anything for you love,” Jisoo smiled a bittersweet smile through her red eyes and puffy cheeks before leaning in as they lips met in passion.

So desperately, trying to make it a kiss, one could remember forever.

"Sing for me please, Chichu…" Lisa whispered her last wish. She moved her body a little bit as she sagged against the hospital bed, eyes fluttering close.

"Hallelujah,

You were an angel in the shape of my love

When I fell down you'll be there holding me up

Spread your wings as you go...

And when God takes you back,

He'll say, "Hallelujah, you're home."

Jisoo wait until her breathing became no more, before she stopped. With one last cold kiss to the lips, Jisoo muttered her prayer against her skin.

"In peace may you leave the shore;

In love may you find the next.

Safe passage on your travel," Jisoo finished and wipe her tears away. She leaned her face closer to Lisa's and mumbled against her lips.

"May we meet again, Lisa..."

==========

It was nothing special, another day, another time, another dawn. They recalled that time when a young Lisa Manoban swore that when she died she would do it in such honour, with lots of people crying for her.

They had laughed it off then, saying that she wasn’t even close to a hero or a president. It was a stupid dream to begin with.

Lalisa Manoban didn’t die in such great honour, she didn’t die with the sound of trumpet and manmade tears marring people’s face as they pretend to show empathy to the fallen grace.

She died, on a normal Wednesday afternoon, with 3 of the brightest stars in her life, and I guessed for her,

It was more than enough.

==========

"One last kiss to a cold lips, to seal the prayer."

==========

[cami-chats]

Abnegate

Fandom: Marvel

Pairings: Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers/Tony Stark/Bucky Barnes

Warnings: None

Tony loved being Iron Man. Hell, he was Iron Man, in a way that went beyond the fact of: Tony Stark is the person piloting the Iron Man armor. He never thought that he would ever give it up for any length of time, but here he was, retiring Iron Man, and all for a guy. He fell in love and got married. They were coming up on their first anniversary as a married couple, and he just couldn't keep up the lie anymore. He'd thought about telling Bucky-- of course he had-- but his identity was secret for a reason. Most of that reason was something he'd signed for Shield back when he'd gotten back from the whole ordeal with Stane. Usually that was something he gave fuck all about, but then he thought of Pepper. One of his best friends, and someone that he had thought was already prepared for him as Iron Man given what she'd had to deal with as Tony Stark's assistant. But he'd told her, and it had gotten her killed, so never again. It left him with three facts, two of which he couldn't change. 1. He was in love with Bucky. 2. He was Iron Man. 3. He was lying to Bucky on a weekly basis, making up stories for how he was hurting himself, and not being able to give reasons for why he was blowing off dates all the time. He was lying, and there were too many secrets between them. It was affecting their marriage, and Tony knew it. Bucky had yet to say anything, but he shouldn't have to; Tony knew it was coming between them. All of that left him with the choice of retiring Iron Man. He hated doing it, but he loved Bucky more. So he went into Shield and signed the paperwork. Fury was too well trained to show surprise, but he did try to talk Tony out of it, and that was the closest to an admission that Fury wanted him to stay on the team as he was going to get. "I'm doing one more trip in it," Tony told him. "Stark..." "It's not what you think. I'm just going to say goodbye to Cap." And the team, but it was mostly Cap that needed a proper goodbye from him. Fury paused, then nodded. "See if you can talk some sense into him, will you?" Tony snorted. "Just because I'm retiring doesn't mean that I'm suddenly on your side. I'm saying goodbye to my friend, not doing your dirty work." "Since when is talking to Captain America dirty work?" Fury asked him as he walked out the door. He shook his head. Stark would be back; he couldn't leave for good, no matter how much he might think he wants to. He put the paperwork through anyways. Once an Avenger, always an Avenger-- he just wasn't on the call list right now. 

Tony went to the Tower to suit up and flew over to Avenger Mansion. He used to live there-- both as Iron Man and Tony Stark-- but when he and Bucky moved in together, he started living at Stark Tower. It was easier to keep up with his secret identity that way, and the Mansion got attacked more often anyways; the Tower was safer for Bucky. He landed in front of the main door, and Jarvis opened the door for him rather than risk the armor accidentally crushing the doorknob (again). Jan perked up when she saw him, a garment bag in her arms. "Iron Man! What are you doing here? I thought you were being incognito today?" "Mister Stark's got someone else watching him right now. Do you know where Cap is?" "Gym with Winter, I think. Why?" He shrugged. "Just need to talk to him about something. What's...?" He gestured to the slip. "Dress for Tony's gala this weekend, I'm sure you'll see it then," she said with a wink. "Have fun with the super twins!" Tony chuckled and made his way to the gym, wondering how difficult Winter was going to make this on him. He didn't like Cap and Iron Man's friendship, and he insisted it wasn't jealousy, but that's always what Cap told him when they got alone. He saw them sparring on the mats and knocked an armored finger against the door frame to let them know he was there. Cap saw him and beamed, and Winter rolled his eyes, shoving Cap off of him. He didn't care, standing up and walking over. "Hey Iron Man, I didn't think you were going to be around today." "Yeah, little change of plans, I needed to talk to you about something." "Of course," he said, looking at him earnestly even with his workout mask covering pieces of his face. "Uh, alone," he said, glancing over at Winter, who was still sitting on the mats. Winter glared at him. "What do you need to tell him so privately?" "Winter," Cap reprimanded. He rolled his eyes again. "Fine, guess I'll hit the showers." They both waited for the door to shut behind him before turning back to each other. "So?" Cap said, back to happy. "I'm- uh, retiring." His smile froze on his face, and he tried to capture a little hope. "Oh taking another break? Yeah, you've been busy lately, don't worry about it. We'll see you around, yeah?" "Cap. I'm not... taking a break. I'm leaving the Avengers. Permanently." It felt like kicking a puppy that was also his best friend. The smile was wiped off his face like it had never been there. "Wh- is there something wrong? If Mister Stark needs more security, we can take up shifts until he figures it out." Tony shook his head. "I'm not going back to being his bodyguard. I'm giving up the armor." Cap swallowed thickly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Is... is someone replacing you?" "No. Well," he gave a harsh laugh that didn't have an ounce of humor in it, "maybe someday. But not anytime soon." "Is there anything I can say that would convince you to stay?" "I already signed the paperwork," he said gently. The armor didn't really translate gentle, but Cap had known him for years like this and he understood what Tony was aiming for. "I just came to say goodbye." "Okay," Cap said, and Tony could see him calculating. "Do I- do we get to see you still? Will you drop by to visit?" "Don't do this Cap. If you see me, you're just going to want me back, and you're going to expect me in battles where I'm not going to be." "I won't," he said desperately. "I won't do that Shellhead, please. Don't just leave me entirely. You're my best friend, you- you got me through waking up in this century, I can't lose you." Tony put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine Winghead. You always have been." Cap clenched his jaw. "Fine, we don't get to see you in the armor. What about..." he visibly gathered his courage and looked straight into the eye slits like he could see straight through them. "Would you go on a date with me? I was thinking pizza. You always said that you loved pizza, but you could never have it with the team because of the helmet." Tony blinked in surprise. "A date?" He nodded decisively, chin jutted out, and Tony got the sudden vision of how he must have looked before the serum-- earnest but not self-confident, taking risks and putting himself out there every day. "I... you mean a lot to me, Shellhead. I've been wanting to do this since five months after we met." Tony's heart sank lower and lower, falling to his shoes. Cap was in love with him. He didn't say the words, but it was obvious-- how had he never seen this before? Iron Man's hand fell from his shoulder and laid limply at his side. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "If it's your identity, you know I won't tell anyone." "It's not-" Tony shook his head. "I'm married." Cap's face tightened in pain, and he hunched over like he did in fights when he was expecting a blow. Only this one was emotional, and he didn't have the shield to protect him. "Oh," he managed. His arms tightened across his chest, and Tony recognized the feeling of wanting to rub at your heart when it hurt. "I'm so sorry," he said, because that was all he could do. Cap shook his head vigorously, but not enough to hide the tears welling up in his eyes. "I- I should've--" he cut himself off, shaking his head again. He pulled himself together enough to give him a tremulous smile. "I'll miss you Shellhead. Have a good retirement, yeah? And- if you ever--" he stopped himself again, trying to shake the thought out of his mind. And if you ever find yourself single, maybe look me up. "Have a good retirement," he repeated. ~~~ After everything with Cap, Tony felt like dirt, but he still managed to say goodbye to the others. Like with Cap, they asked if they were going to still see him, but after he said that he'd already talked to Cap about it, they didn't bother pressing the point; if Cap couldn't convince him to stay, none of them would be able to. He went back to the Tower but didn't get any work done, opting to be miserable on the couch rather than miserable in the workshop. When Bucky got back from the fire station that day, both of them were feeling low. He slumped next to Tony on the couch. "How was your day?" "Awful. Had to fire someone," he lied, and he hoped to god that this was one of the last lies he would have to tell him. Bucky made a noise of sympathy and leaned over to kiss his cheek. "'m sorry. If it helps, my day wasn't much better." "I know they say misery loves company, but I'm not really happy that your day sucked too. What happened?" Bucky glared at the wall. "The fella Stevie was sweet on is seein' someone else. Can you believe that? Been stringin' him along for years, and he's living with someone." He shook his head, reaching back to untie his hair. "I told him that guy was no good for 'im." "You did," Tony agreed. For as long as Tony had known him, Steve was pining over someone, and Bucky was telling him that it wasn't going to go anywhere. Tony didn't know the guy obviously, but the way Bucky told it, it was hopeless to think he and Steve would ever get together-- looks like he was right. "How's he holding up?" "Not good," Bucky said with a grimace. "He thought this guy was the one, y'know?" Tony winced. "That's rough." "Yeah. I'm sorry honey, I know we had plans tonight, but-" Tony was already shaking his head. "It's fine. Go get him roaring drunk; it's the first step to moving on." "Is that what they tell you at your AA meetings?" "Well I'm not the one with a broken heart, am I? Besides, Steve hardly drinks, that might be what he needs right now." "If you say so." "What was your plan then?" "Junk food and rom coms." Tony made a face. "I don't want to trash your methods, but watching movies where people always end up together? That seems a little questionable." "Mm," Bucky shook his head. "We're watching He's Just Not That Into You, so it gives him the full spectrum." Tony laughed. "Sounds like fun, I wish I could come along. I'll just be sitting here pining for you." "Not going to get any work done?" Bucky asked, sounding surprised since that was usually what Tony did when Bucky had evening plans with someone else. He shrugged one shoulder. He really should start packing up all the suits, but designing anything would be far from possible right now. "I might. Guess we'll see." Bucky chuckled and gave his cheek another kiss, nuzzling until Tony turned to face him. He kissed him slowly, savoring the way he tasted. "I'll make it up to you," he whispered against Tony's lips. This was par for the course when one of them canceled a date, to the point that even if they didn't say it, they still did something special later on. "Don't worry about it," Tony said, knowing full well that Bucky was going to do something anyways-- again, it was what they did. Bucky hummed, rubbing their noses together before pulling away. "I'm gonna go change, but I'll see you tonight? Hopefully not too late." "Yep." Tony snagged another kiss. "Have fun-- or as much fun as you can have while mending a broken heart." Bucky grinned at him, and Tony's heart skipped a beat. "Will do, doll." He kissed him again before getting up to go change, and Tony watched his backside as he walked away. God, he loved him. Every day he thought he couldn't love him any more than he already did, and every day he was proven wrong. He waited for Bucky to leave for Steve's before heading to the workshop. He stood in front of the panel that hid the Iron Man suits and took a deep breath. This was ridiculous, right? They were just circuits and metal strung together, and he wasn't even destroying them. He was just... packing them up. Putting them in boxes and hiding them away so he wouldn't be tempted to use them. He only managed to get the Mark Three down before stopping. He went to the 'shop and worked on an upgrade for Cap. The poor man deserved something nice after the Iron Man... incident. He didn't get very far before saving what little progress he'd made, and he went back to the suits. The Mark Three had already been carried off by DUM-E, so he started on the Mark Four. He turned on music, so loud he couldn't hear himself think, and worked on packing up the rest of them. If he didn't think about it, it was like he was moving back to Malibu, not retiring completely. By the time Bucky got home, Tony had packed everything up and was looking at a few documents Val (his new assistant) had sent him. Guess he was going to be doing a lot more of this, now that he wasn't trying to keep up with two people's lives. Just the one. He sighed. If he could have Bucky and be Iron Man, that would of course be preferable. He shook his head to get rid of the thought and accepted Bucky's welcome home kiss. He smelled like vodka, but he didn't look the least bit tipsy. Maybe Steve had gone off and gotten wasted like Tony suggested. "How's Steve doing?" "Pretty miserable. He's still convinced this guy is the love of his life." "Didn't you talk some sense into him?" "I tried, but Steve said that I never liked him so what I think doesn't matter." Tony's eyes went wide. "Well then." "You'd be able to work it out," Bucky said, sounding strangely certain of that even though Tony and Steve didn't get along very well. Tony shrugged it off because Bucky said weird shit like that all the time. He leaned in to give Tony a longer kiss, but he shied away. "No offense babe, but you stink." Bucky's look of confusion turned to understanding, and he nodded, giving Tony some space and getting off the couch. "Yeah Steve sort of... threw a drink on me." "What? What for?" "Love of his life, remember?" "Mm." "Yeah. I'm gonna take a shower." "What happened to movie night?" Bucky made a face. "The punk wanted to take your advice, and Natasha sure as fuck wasn't helping. You should've seen the bartender's face when Steve tossed his drink at me though-- thought he was gonna have us beating the shit outta each other in his place." Tony laughed, able to visualize the terror the poor man must have felt; Steve and Bucky were both built-- if they wanted to destroy a place, they could do it. "I'm sure he was very happy when you didn't." "Darlin', you have no idea." He winked at Tony and made for the shower. He'd been hoping for some quality time since Tony was still up, but if he smelled like a distillery? Yeah, not happening, and he couldn't even be mad about it.

Two Weeks Later Of all the things Tony expected from his life, being bored was not one of them. Being Iron Man had kept him busy-- too busy, honestly. He'd had to shirk duties that both Iron Man and Tony Stark should be doing to make time for both identities. Even before Iron Man he'd been busy, but now it was less than he was expecting. He got used to running everywhere, never having a moment to sit down and rest unless he scheduled it, and now he had his usual meetings, the usual paperwork, and the usual projects to work on, with an average of five more hours a day to do it all. He also wasn't designing new Iron Man suits, so that was a weekly project that he no longer had to spend time on. He didn't have to cancel dates anymore because there was never an emergency that wasn't preemptively dealt with because of all his free time. The main problem with all of this? He was starting to get suspicious of Bucky, and he hated it in a visceral way that felt like it was clawing from the depths of his soul. Bucky wasn't doing anything unusual even. He still canceled dates occasionally, still told stories about down time with his friends, but something about it all rubbed Tony the wrong way. What kind of firefighter got calls at eleven at night on a regular basis? They had night shifts for a reason, and Tony never saw anything about big fires that would require the extra help. He found excuses for this or that, but there was one thing he couldn't explain away-- Bucky's injuries. Bruises? Fine, not ideal, but normal. But cuts? Sometimes it looked like someone tried to make him a human shish-ka-bob, and a week later he was perfectly fine. He hated himself for even getting that far in his suspicion. He was getting paranoid, looking for trouble where there was none, and it ate at him. Bucky loved him, and Tony loved him. They'd been married for almost a year, and here he was jumping at shadows. He worked on planning their anniversary, trying to make it perfect to alleviate his guilt. It didn't really work, and Bucky was starting to get concerned, coaxing him to bed more often than not. Bucky mostly felt like his life was crumbling in the foundation. Steve was still mad at him for saying Iron Man was a dick, and Natasha was too, for some reason. Tony was acting different, and as much as his anxiety tried to pin all the blame on his own behavior, it felt deeper than that. Bucky hadn't changed anything about how he acted, but all of a sudden Tony was distant and his mind was wandering-- and neither of them in way that Bucky had seen before. He did his best to just let Tony know that he was there for him and that he still loved him, but it didn't seem to be doing anything. It wasn't a big change mind, but they'd been living together for a year and a half-- he knew Tony. So he got Steve to get him a day off of Avenger activity no matter what happened, and he called Val to clear a day in Tony's schedule. The alarm by their bed went off, and Tony turned it off, swinging his legs off the bed and waiting for his body to boot up. Bucky wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him back on the bed, careful to watch his strength so Tony didn't get suspicious. He kissed his back, but when Tony spoke he only sounded tired. "I have a meeting this morning." Bucky tried not to let his disinterest discourage him. "No you don't. I called Val, got Sam to cover my shift, and said no way are we leaving the floor today." He sat up and hugged Tony to his chest, kissing softly along his neck. But Tony wasn't relaxing. He loosened his grip and leaned back a little to give him space. "Uh. Is somethin' wrong sweetheart?" "Just not in the mood." That was plausible, but it felt like a lie. Bucky sat beside him, and Tony moved his leg away when it touched him. He tried to be discreet about it, but Bucky noticed-- would have done even if he wasn't enhanced. He swallowed thickly, trying to tamp down on the hurt. A voice in the back of his mind started screaming that this was the end for them, but he shoved it back. Couples had bumps in the road sometimes, that's just how relationships worked. "What's goin' on with you recently?" he asked softly. "Did somethin’ happen?" Tony took a deep breath and rubbed at his eyes. He was about to answer when an explosion rattled the floor. "What the-" Suddenly, the wall blew in, and Bucky was tackling him to the floor. "Shit," Bucky bit out. He scrambled for his backpack sitting by the nightstand, getting his gun in hand just in time to see the approaching figures in black and shooting at them. How was he going to explain this? They got out of the open space and behind the wall, but before he could grab Tony and find somewhere to get them away, Tony was pulling on his arm, typing something into his phone rapid fire and opening a panel in their wall. It sealed shut, leaving them in the brightly lit elevator with all sound and destruction cut off. "This feels like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith moment," Tony said mildly, but his eyes were wide and his grip on his phone left his knuckles whitened. "Because we're in an elevator?" "And you have a gun. Why do you have a gun in your work bag?" "Tony, I can explain later but right now--" Tony raised his voice and talked over him. "I guess it's the same reason the skin on your left arm is shredded and there's metal underneath. Right?" There was only one person that had an arm like that, and the Winter Soldier wasn’t very fond of Tony. Bucky glanced down, and sure enough, the synthetic skin he used to cover his prosthetic was ripped in places. He'd been closer to the explosion so it made sense, but he hadn't even noticed. He was usually better about hiding this, but then again they usually weren't attacked in their fucking home. "Can we talk about it later?" he said quietly, peeling the synthetic skin off entirely. "There are kind of people trying to kill us right now." "I texted Fury, we should be fine. In the meantime I need to reboot Jarvis." "Is that where we're going?" "Yep." "I won't be any help there. If you let me off, I could-" "Nope." "What? Tony I should help." "Consider this your punishment," he said, and the doors opened to a circuit room he'd never seen before. "What?" he said again. "Punishment for what?" As soon as he said it, he realized the answer what the answer would be: lying. "Tony, I wasn’t allowed to tell you. None of us are." "The rest of them aren't married," Tony said, walking further into the room. He wasn’t actually mad at Bucky-- couldn’t be because it would be so fucking hypocritical. He was doing something, but fuck if Bucky knew what it was. He stood at the edges of the room to stay out of the way, shifting awkwardly. "You know that for sure?" "I know that two of them are married, and it's to each other so the secret identities schtick doesn't apply to them." Bucky frowned in confusion. "Iron Man's not married to another Avenger." "What?" Tony looked back, mirroring Bucky's expression. "But he told-" Bucky cut himself off before he could say 'Steve' or 'Cap'. "I'm so fuckin' confused." Tony's phone rang, and he put it on speakerphone and set it on top of one of the bases to continue what he was doing. "Hey Nicky, how's the view from out there?" "You'd have to ask Cap. Where's that husband of yours? He's unaccounted for." "He's with me," Tony said absently, his mind whirring as soon as Fury mentioned Captain America. "And where are you?" "Nice try Santa Claus." "At any rate, hostiles are clear, and you're free to go back and see if you recognize them." "Will do." He reached up and ended the call, face pale. He looked at Bucky, finally awake enough to realize everything it meant that Bucky was the Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier fucking hated Iron Man, and he was Iron Man, therefore... Not to mention that the Winter Soldier was from the past, same as Captain America, and if that was Bucky, that meant Steve was Captain America. Steve liked Tony, Tony didn't like him, and that made Bucky hate him a couple times over. What a goddamn mess. He started laughing; this could only happen to him. Bucky walked over to him, concerned. "Tony? Are you okay?" He tried to talk past his laughter, and only managed, "If he's- then that means- and he got turned down so you hate-" before he broke down into hysterical giggles. He finally tapered off, wiping at his eyes. "Oh wow. If this wasn't so sad, this would be the funniest thing to ever happen to me." He messed around with a few more wires, and everything whirred to life. "Jarvis, buddy? You there?" "I appear to have taken a nap, sir. My apologies." He paused, running a quick diagnostic. "The issue has been found. It won't happen again, sir." "Just so long as you're alright, Jay. Did you know that I'm apparently married to the Winter Soldier?" "I did indeed, sir." "If you knew, then why didn't you tell him?" Bucky asked. "Privacy is one of his primary protocols, along with keeping me safe. And you, once you moved in." "So... he knows the identities of the other Avengers?" "I do, but sir has no need to know, so their identities have remained private." "Not that it would be hard to guess now that I know who you are," he muttered, giving a final pat to one of the towers. He pocketed his phone and went back to the elevator. "Jay, tell them we're headed up." "...Are you okay?" Tony gave him a strange look. "Yeah, I'm fine. Why?" He shrugged awkwardly. "Well with this and whatever else was botherin' you, I'm surprised you're not mad at me. It's a pretty big secret." "Yeah. Hypocritical though." "What do you mean?" "Captain America is Steve, right? And you hate Iron Man for turning him down?" Bucky's face darkened. "I know he's your bodyguard and you trust him an' all, but he's a bastard." "Cap tell you what he said?" He made a noise of disgust. "Said he's married. Who does that?" "We're married." "That's not the same, we love each other." "And you think Iron Man doesn't love his husband." "I think that if he loved him, he wouldn't've been flirtin' with Steve." "Huh." Tony chewed on his lip. "I don't suppose you would believe that he didn't know it was flirting?" "What? How could Iron Man not know?" "He's an idiot sometimes." "What are you talking about?" Tony looked at Bucky with an eyebrow raised. Then, he raised one hand and pointed at himself with the other. "I'm an idiot sometimes." "Tony..." "Do you really think I'd give my suit to someone else?" They reached the penthouse, but Jarvis kept the doors closed. "What the- what th' hell are you talking about Tony?" "I'm Iron Man," he said plainly. "And in my defense, Cap really was my best friend and nothing else. Yeah we flirted every once in a while, but I had no reason to believe he'd think it was serious. Also? I didn't think my husband was the Winter Soldier and fucking hated me. Like you said earlier, right? It 'had to be kept a secret'. And you know what?" he added when Bucky started to look angry. "I thought you were a firefighter, but you knew I was Tony Stark. You knew I was already involved with the Avengers, and you didn't tell me. So if anyone gets to be upset here? It's me." Not that he was, really, but it was the principle of the matter. Bucky's jaw was clenched tight, and he wasn't looking Tony. He shook his head in jerky movements, and he stepped forward to knock on the door with his metal hand. "Jarvis open up." He hesitated for the barest of moments before complying with Bucky's request (order, more like), but it probably wasn't long enough for anyone but Tony to notice. Jan turned to them with a smile, but it froze in place when she saw Bucky. Because she was a bonafide lady, she ignored his expression and the fact that his arm was out so Tony clearly knew about his identity. And since she knew Tony and everyone involved with the Avengers knew her identity, she was the one to talk to him right now-- comfort when his home was attacked, he guessed. "Hey Tony." "Hey Jan," he said tiredly. He glanced at Bucky, who had leaned against a wall and was now scowling at nothing. Now that Bucky and Cap were in the same room, it was pretty obvious that something was going on there. Knowing that it was Steve under the cowl, made it both better and worse. Better because Steve was Bucky's friend, and he was clearly concerned about him. Worse because this was Bucky's best friend who had told Tony as Iron Man that he loved him two weeks ago. "Do we know who it was?" he asked, looking around at the mess that was his penthouse. She grimaced, pulling her mask up and resituating her ponytail. "We put them through the system, and some of them are AIM." "But?" he prompted. "They don't really look like AIM, Tony." "What, no beekeeper outfits?" "Actual armor, fully outfitted." He frowned. "I know," she said, giving a helpless shrug. "We think they teamed up with someone." "Killian’s idea?" "Looks like it. The guy either loves you or hates you Tony. Either way, he's obsessed. I would guess that since his past attempts at getting your attention weren't working, he decided to switch it up." "He's not exactly nice at playing with others. If it's an alliance, it's not going to last." "Especially after this failed so miserably." She made a face and looked at the shattered glass and blasted down walls. "Sorry about your building." "It's only this right? No casualties or other damages?" "Correct," Cap jumped in to say. "The thing is Mister Stark, they've never been able to get this close to you before. I think you should consider moving back to the Mansion, at least temporarily." "It would be safer," Jan added. "Plus it'll be fun! Just like the old days." She moved beside Tony and slung an arm around his shoulders. "Cocktails, virgin of course, and talking clothes-- this lot is useless and has no taste-- ooo and painting our nails! Hank is atrocious at it. I love him dearly, but it looked like I'd stuck my fingertips in a can of paint." Tony laughed, and it sounded a little forced, but Jan just smiled encouragingly. "Yeah that'd be fun. I'm good with moving back for a bit. Bucky?" "What," he said flatly. Tony blinked. "Uh. Moving to the Mansion for a bit? Just while this place is being rebuilt." "Fine." "Great. I'll uh, grab some stuff." He started to walk forward, but Jan picked him up. "Jan!" "What?" she said innocently. "There's glass Tony, and you're only human." He glared at her, but she just hummed to herself and brought him into their room. "Have I told you lately that you're ridiculous?" "No, but maybe that's because you stopped being around when Iron Man left." A small part of that was that he wasn't there to be seem before and after suiting up, but most of it was avoiding Cap. He just... didn't know what to say to him. It was one of the only pros to not being Iron Man, and even that was gone now that he knew Steve was Captain fucking America. He couldn't avoid his husband's best friend, but then again maybe that wouldn't be a problem soon, if the way Bucky was shutting him out was any indication. He grabbed a duffle from the back of the closet and started throwing clothes in. He couldn't take any suits obviously, but Val would understand him having to cancel meetings-- and with his good behavior the last two weeks, she probably wouldn't even make a comment on how this attack was awfully convenient for getting him out of them. While he was at it, he pulled on some clothes for the day. He was about to ask Bucky if he wanted him to pack for him, but he and Cap/Steve looked to be having a whispered argument. An intense one that would probably have them shouting if they were alone. ~~~ Steve stood at his side, far enough away to keep appearances, and Bucky rolled his eyes. Now that Tony knew who he was, everyone in the penthouse was aware of everyone's identities. Except for the other Avengers knowing Iron Man was Tony; they didn't know that part, but what did it matter? Iron Man was retired. "Hey," Steve said in an undertone, "is everything okay?" He knew the attack was worrisome, but Tony looked to be fine. As far as he could tell, there was nothing to put Bucky in this foul of a mood. "Tony knows." "Shit." Steve glanced at Tony, who was in their room packing up some clothes, but he looked fine. "Is he mad?" "Nope. You know why?" Bucky looked straight into Steve's eyes, and it hit him that Bucky wasn't mad at Tony-- he was mad at Steve. "Cause he's Iron Man." Steve's stomach dropped, and he paled at a rate that would have been funny in a less serious situation. "What? He- there's no way." "Yeah cause I always joke about shit like this Rogers," he snarled. "Oh my god, Buck, I'm so sorry I swear I had no idea," Steve whispered back. "Had no idea that you want to fuck my husband? Yeah I'm so sure." He was glaring at Steve, hurt covered up by anger. "Well don't worry. In a month, we'll be divorced and you won't have to fuckin' worry anymore." "What? Divorce? Is he- Bucky is he dumping you?" "No," Bucky growled, jabbing a metal finger hard against Steve's chest (not that it mattered much through his armor), "but as soon as we have a minute alone, I'm tellin' him." "But why? You love him so much, it's not like you weren't keeping a secret of your own. I'm sure you can get past this if you try," Steve said desperately. Tony being Iron Man was god damn heartbreaking because he knew now that he really didn't stand a chance, but it was obvious how much they loved each other and separating over something like this would only stand to hurt them. "It's not about that," Bucky said, getting in Steve's face. "As soon as you told him that you fuckin' love him, he got distant. We haven't had sex since then, and this mornin' before the attack, I told him that we had the whole day together and he was tryin' to figure out how to leave. I convinced him t' talk, y'know? Right before they blew up the damn wall, and he was about to let me down easy. So don't try 'nd tell me that everything's just fine between us, cause it's not. He likes you, and I'm gonna be that stupid ex that you had to work past to get together." He clenched his jaw, looking for all the world like he wanted to haul off and punch Steve in the face. "I'm not gonna stick around to watch it happen. Neither of you need me, and the team sure as hell doesn't need the Winter Soldier." "What?" Steve whispered back harshly, starting to get angry himself. It was more reactionary than something he thought he should be feeling, but it was there all the same, bubbling in him like poison. "What the hell are you talking about? I'm not going to get with your fucking husband, what the hell kind of person do you think I am? Don't go putting words in my mouth punk, you don't get to speak for me, and I'm not going to date your husband." "Yeah," Bucky scoffed, "call me up in five years and tell me how that worked out for you."

Nat cleared her throat loudly, coughing into her hand to get them to break it up. She gave a pointed look to Tony, who was watching them with worry etched into his face and his hands tight around a duffle.

Bucky swallowed thickly and took a step back, not looking at Steve or Tony. This was going to be so goddamn miserable. Five Years Later They finished yet another battle against a batch of Doombots. "This diplomatic immunity thing is bullshit," Bucky said, slowly stretching his arm to test how his shoulder was doing. "It should apply to honest mistakes and cultural differences, not tryin' to take over the fucking country." "I vote we kill Doom and save our future selves the trouble," Clint said. "No," Steve said firmly, even using his Captain America voice. "We aren't killing him, that would only start a war and get you thrown in jail." "Yeah Clint," Tony chimed in. "You gotta start thinking like a hero, now that you're one of us. Any time we kill someone, it is entirely by accident, and then we have to spend the next month doing all sorts of bullshit PR to remind the public we're saving their collective asses." "That's easy for you to say," he grumbled. "Is it?" "You're getting laid on a daily basis by two super soldiers, Stark. You're doing what I'm doing, only with lots of hot sex in the down time." "He doesn't have as much down time as you're thinkin'," Bucky said. "Mostly it's me and Stevie waitin' for him to pry himself away from his toys. Everyone's on the quinjet, right?" He waited until he got various confirmations, and a reminder from Tony that he was going to fly to the Tower so they didn't need to wait for him. Natasha hummed, crawling into the copilot's chair. "Exactly what kind of waiting are we talking about here, Bucky? Please, tell us in as much detail as possible." "Don't be afraid to embellish, if you need," Clint added, strapping himself into a seat even though it wasn't necessary for the short trip-- he had some quirks, that was fine, none of them asked unless it worried them because if it made him feel better, then why bother him? "Or combine stories, really. It's your story, Bucky, you need to make sure we're entertained." "Not a word, Buck," Steve warned. "Ooo is that things work?" Jan teased. Tony laughed, but Steve just sighed. "I thought we all agreed not to talk about our sex life with the team?" "I wasn't exactly level headed at the time I agreed," Tony said. "I think in a court of law, I would be freed from this contract. Bucky too." "He's right, Steve. It's not fair to be negotiatin' while you've got someone's dick in your hand." Steve thumped his head into the wall behind him. "I hate both of you." "Aw I love you too honey," Tony said, pitching his voice overly sweet. They traded banter back and forth for the short ride back to the Tower, and Tony slid out of the suit on the landing pad. Jarvis picked it off of him and brought it back down to the 'shop for a few touch-up's-- not upgrades, just redoing the paint, honestly; it chipped in almost every fight, either because something sharp was hitting him, or because he was being thrown into buildings or the pavement (giant squid monsters were not friendly, he had learned). Bucky and Tony whisked Steve away after the debriefing, which had fortunately been very short due to how routine the fight had been. "Do you wanna tell 'im?" Bucky asked Tony. Tony frowned. "I thought we were doing this together?" "Well of course we're doin' it together, but we can't just talk at th' same time and hope it works." Steve cleared his throat loud and pointedly, making both of them turn to him in surprise, like they'd forgotten he was there and could hear them. "Should I be worried?" "No," they both immediately. "It's good," Bucky insisted. "Probably long overdue, if we're being honest." It had been five years since the penthouse had been partially destroyed, and Bucky had tried to leave the Avengers, Steve, and Tony. It had taken a couple days for Tony to figure out what the fuck was going on and work on fixing it, and while it had ultimately been a long process, it was still only six months before they brought Steve into their relationship. Four and half years of dating and being in love, and they hadn't done this yet when it only took Tony and Bucky a year to get engaged. Tony was the one with the ring box now, so Bucky was probably right about Tony being the one to tell him. "O... kay?" Steve said, a confused frown on his face that put a little line between his eyebrows. Tony shared a glance with Bucky, gaining confidence when Bucky squeezed his hand. Steve wasn't going to say no, but it was still nerve wracking. "Well, the three of us have been together for a while now, and I know that you're already living with us and that's as properly official as it's going to get, but sometimes it still feels like it's not enough, you know?" Steve was nodding along, and Tony reached into his pocket for the ring box. "We just... we know this won't make it official. It's not legally binding or anything, and most people aren't going to think of it as real, but." Tony shoved the box into Steve's hand. He'd meant to place it in gently-- romantically, if you will-- but he was nervous, so sue him. "I know you feel like a third wheel still sometimes, Steve," Bucky said softly. "And I think part of that is because me and Tony are married to each other, and you aren't. And, yeah, this isn't a legal thing, it's just a symbol, but if we could marry you, we would, punk. Like Tony said, we shoulda done this a long time ago." Steve fumbled for a minute, throat working and fingers clenching around the little box that looked all the smaller in his large hands. Finally, he opened it, staring at the ring that matched Bucky and Tony's. He pulled it out and glanced surreptitiously at the inside to see just how similar it was. Sure enough, there his name was, engraved on the inside of the band next to Tony and Bucky's names, little hearts between them. When he glanced up at them, he saw them both smiling softly at him. Tony pulled on his own ring until it came off, and he held it up for Steve to see; they'd put his name on their rings too. "I never thought I'd get this," he admitted quietly. Bucky moved to Steve's side, putting an arm around his waist and pulling him close. "I'm sorry it couldn't be more official. And I'm sorry that we didn't do this sooner," he added, and both Steve and Tony knew he was referring to his insecurity about his place in their relationship. Steve shook his head, putting the ring on his left hand and flexing his hand around it. It felt strange, but the kind of strange that he was going to love getting used to. "I know it's- I know we're not having a ceremony but can we... take some pictures?" There were pictures of the three of them together all over of course, but Steve felt a little pang of sadness when he saw Tony and Bucky's wedding picture. He'd been at the actual wedding, but considering what had happened since then, it was hard for him to see it. "Yeah," Tony said. "I've still got the suits and everything." Steve smiled, the grin spreading slowly across his face until it was stretched from one end to the other. Ten years ago, the three of them were scattered with issues as tall as skyscrapers, and now they were married. He could definitely get used to this.

[im-confusedandgay]

As Luck Would Have It

A Snowbaz Fic Genre: a lil mix of angst/fluff (i swear its more of fluff at the end) Word Count: 4k Summary: Simon Snow does not know how lucky he is.

~

She ran. she ran so much, so fast. Her knees were throbbing so severely, she was afraid they might disconnect from the rest of her limbs. It was like everything lost meaning, every definition and motive, all gone to her.

and this was her only purpose. this right here. The running and the escaping. and the tiny little ounce of hope she carried with her, like a narrow light beaming in her chest. still, at the back of her mind, there was always that voice, that damnable voice that reeked of fear. 

That voice said "This is the part where it all ends in flames." She couldn't tell if it was her own voice. couldn't tell if it were his. She turned a corner and nearly tripped on the jagged rocks. Every breath seemed impossible, incoherent. Her head was pounding, aching. numb. her arms wanted to give in, to let go. she didn't allow anything of that sort.

She ran. She didn't know how. She didn't know how it was possible. Her magic could be carrying her every step with some abstract energy, maybe. thats possible right? The last tendrils of her magic, at least, because she was so certain she gave all of it away.

Trees were fading past her, the ground tumbled beneath her. She did not think about the man chasing after her,  did not think of the bare future laid before her. she did not think of anything else besides the baby in her arms. He wailed, a heavy shrieking noise. his tiny arms were reaching for her face, fists unclenching, clenching. reaching, always reaching. 

She would never let go. she didn't allow anything of that sort. 

this promise would carry her in her solemn grave. This promise, she thought, is the only thing that could keep my son alive.

And maybe this was why she ran.

-

"Simon, Im home." 

Simon sprang to the living room, all giddy and vivacious ecstasy radiating off of him. He's smiling that amiable smile of his. 

Baz raised an eyebrow. "What?" Despite himself, he mirrored simon’s smile, that same easy and lively light aglow in both their faces.  still, Baz felt his face linger in bemusement. 

And still, simon wouldn’t say a thing except high squeals, tugging on Baz's sleeve like a five year old. Baz didn't mind. “Alright, Simon, whats going on?” 

Simon then fished for something in his jeans pocket, retrieving what seems like a plain white sheet of folded paper. He passed it to Baz with excited hands. Baz took the sheet of paper with a confused glance. He gently unfolded it.

July 19, 2017

Dear Simon Snow,

We are pleased to notify you that, of the many proposals we received, we have selected your portrait ‘petite étoile’ , Your response to the RFP issued by Cambridge Art Association stood head and shoulders above the rest. We are looking forward to moving forward with the installation. 

Thank you.

Baz blinked at the words. He read it again just to make sure. and again. He looked at Simon. 

Simon, seeing the stupefy and awed expression in his boyfriends face, squealed, “I KNOW!” Baz hugged him in response, smoothing out his bronze curls, kissing his forehead, taking his face on both his hands and nuzzling his nose with his because he's a fucking tragedy when it comes to Simon Snow and both of them know it. “I knew you could do it.” he whispers, wiping the tears off Simons face. 

They felt each others smiles radiate of their lips in smooth, lethargic bliss. 

“we should throw a fucking party.” Baz announces.  

“you don’t have to do that-“

“shut up, Simon.”

  he already had his phone in his hand, calling penny’s cell. “We are celebrating the shit out of this letter.” Baz held the phone by his ear as he took his boyfriend by the waist. Simon leaned his head against his shoulder in response, breathing him in. Baz smelled explicitly of Cedar and Bergamot today.

“Hello? Penny? Guess who received an acceptance letter!?” 

He could feel Baz’s piercing smile in those words. Simon laughed in response.

-

She didn’t know it was going to end like this. or maybe she did. maybe she did all along and denied it. She knocked on the cottage door twice. she was sure she lost him. he probably tripped over some twig and lost her tracks. maybe. hopefully. A nervous energy filled her veins as she continued to rasp at the door until an old women by the age of 50 opened it. 

“Hello,” She greeted.

The old woman continued to stare, bored.

She shifted her arms so she could adjust herself to the weight of her baby, holding him close. 

The woman still continued in silence. 

“M-may we please stay here for awhile? We don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.” She could feel her teeth clatter in hunger. or fear. Fear, she thought. Its always fear. 

Finally, the woman made the smallest gesture of glancing at her baby. the next thing she knew it, a closed door appeared in her face, inches away from the peak of her pale freckled nose. 

A sob escaped her as she continued walking off into the distance, the wail of her baby traveling with her in a soothing presence.

She was sure she lost him. maybe. hopefully. 

-

Its times like this when Simon Snow wakes up at 12:00am. 

Times like this when he wakes to the sensation of arms around his waist. a body instead of space beside him. 

He wakes, sullen and drowsy. patches of blue and silver moonlight teem down the window panes. His eyes travel to where Baz’s head lays down in the cushions, peaceful and quiet. 

It was just 5 weeks into their relationship when Baz presented the thought of moving in with Simon and Penny just days ago. Penny, god bless her, approved.  Of course Simon approved as well. Hell, he may as well rent a place of their own if he could. 

It wasn’t official or any of that sort. But he knew they’d make it through that point. 

They made it through watford, anyway. If they could make it through that, Simon’s pretty sure they’ll make it through anything. 

He continued to gaze upon Baz’s sleeping figure. 

“you know what would be a great idea?” Baz had said just the day before.”you could paint portraits. paintings. Just for a change.” 

Simon scoffed. they laid in the couch. He was busy sketching some pieces he thought of that day, cross legged beside Baz, who was reading a thick pretentious novel. 

“Nice one Baz,”

“Well, no offence love, but you sulking around all day with nothing else better to do is an image we’re all tired of” 

He shrugged in response. 

“So what if i’ll start painting and make pointless portraits? What could i make of it? what would change anyway?”

“well for instance,” Baz glanced at Simon’s sketchpad, a grin plastered on his face. he returned back to his novel. “Change is happening right now, Snow.”

Simon shifted in their bedsheets. he wrapped his arms around the sleeping boy beside him.

He’ll start painting tomorrow. 

-

As luck would have it, She turned to the right direction after all. Now all she has to do is wait for a car ride. The street before her laid bare and remote, as if no venichle has passed by since god knows how long. 

The baby she held in her arms grew silent and still. she looked at him, tracing a forefinger over his smooth rosy cheek. Her finger traveled down to his neck, where a tiny, indistinct mole lays there. 

His eyes were closed in tranquillised sleep, not a single worry or doubt in the world in those closed lids. She smoothed out his blanket, tugging it this way and that. 

It wasn’t far long ti'll she grew helplessly weary. She settled herself on the edge of the curb, waiting for a miracle. Her knees felt like heavy rocks dragging her body down, and she couldn’t help but think of herself as a statue, numb everywhere, inside and out and at this point it was a marvel she could speak, a miracle she could so much as utter a single word. 

Her stomach growled. It was only when she pursed her dry sandpaper lips did she noticed how thirsty she was. 

She looked at the baby in her arms, still asleep. Somehow, she held tighter. 

in that sweet, lullaby voice of hers, she cooed, “I’m going to love you so much, no girl would ever be good enough for you.”  

“But I do believe a girls going to love you so much. or boy. I wouldn’t care. As long as you love them and as long as they love you back just as much.” she reconsidered. “i’ll still love you the most though.” 

she nuzzled her nose in her baby's neck. He smelled of smoke. Smoke and brunt trees. He smelled like everything she thought he would smell like. “I’ll always love you.” 

 “And if by some larger force separates us,”

she wrapped his tiny fist with her single finger. she squeezed. he squeezed back. 

“Then know that i’m always with you okay? know that i’m with you no matter what and nothing could change that. nothing.”

  The baby opened his blue eyes and as he did, a Camero’s headlights were headed their way. Lucy jumped, standing up, balancing herself. The sudden movement made the baby wail. 

then she saw the plate number. 

Dread filled her system like a slow, creeping snake. 

Oh god.

But it was too late to start running.

-

Baz knocked on Simon's door again. And again. No answer. Only the sound of Simon's obvious sobs, sobs he tired desperately to hide then. It was useless to keep them in, anyway. "Simon," He didn’t know what he could possibly say. Assure him everything is okay? Tell him he'll move on? Tell him lies, lies they both know would do nothing, nothing but display themselves ostentasiouly in the air once they’ve been said. 

Baz was not one for lying. So he told him the truth.

"This isn't okay. Your magic will never come back and we can't do anything about that." Inside the room, Simon grew deathly silent. From the living room, Penny shot him a treacherous glare that says what the fuck are you doing. Her eyes were gigantic plates and really, it was a marvel how she could manage to do that to her eyes.  Still, Baz continued. "The mage is dead. Holes were made and holes were filled."  no response from inside the room. 

"Simon, love." Baz was surprised when he heard a choking sound leave his lips. Even Penny grew silent for once. He tried his best to carry his now trembling voice, 

"You want the truth? Thats the truth. The truth is your the most alive being in the whole damn world. The truth is with your magic, you were fucking untouchable and I was scared Simon. You were the sun and i was crashing into you and the world revolved around you and it was like i couldn't even reach you, it was like everything depended on you and i couldn't possibly give you the satisfaction of knowing that i depended on you too. You were on the other side of the galaxy and you were so far away. The truth was i was so bloody scared Simon. The truth is with your magic, we would have never met in the middle." He laughed at that probable thought. "There was no fucking way."

Silence. 

"Simon," Maybe he said enough? Maybe words were enough. it didn't feel enough for Baz though. 

Simon's own words were still echoing in his head, words that nearly shot him dead at the spot, words that were so untrue, words said with sharpened tips -- "I don't feel alive Baz! I was alive with my magic!  I'm nothing without it and theres no fucking point to all this a-and I --" Simon wiped his eyes then. "I just want to feel fucking alive again!" That was when he stormed to his room and shut his door, locking it with heavy breaths and trembling shoulders, looking for all the world like a precarious, fragile thing. 

Baz softly says -- though not that softly so Simon could hear him through the door -- "Your so alive Simon Snow." 

He thought he heard the door click. He goes on, "You got my share of it."

Before he could even blink, Simon’s pink swollen lips collided with his and at that moment it was as if words didn't matter. As if they never did.

-

"You can't just take him!" Lucy Salisbury was desperate, yes, though she was also many things indeed. Angry. Furious. Confused. Determined. But Davy didn't see any of this. Davy didn't need to see any of this. He's seen it a thousand times before, has seen desperation claw at peoples stomachs with hunger and the need to devour. He's felt it a thousand times too, but now looking at Simon, looking at his blue eyes...maybe he finally completed it. Maybe he actually finally did it. 

The chosen one. Davy laughed. Its still hard to believe, even after all these months of waiting. 

"Give me my baby back you bastard!" Lucy screamed. She was pulled back,  carried away by Davy's men. She didn't even know he had men. "Simon isn't yours to take!" Sobs were leaving her like drool and she reached out with her arms towards her baby, she willed herself to reach out to Simon, and maybe she was close, maybe she wasn’t, but all she remembered was a blade, a sharp blade, a sharp and silver blade in Davy’s hands and she thought --

No. He wouldn't.

He thrusted the blade into Lucy's abdomen. 

And thank god it wasn't her baby’s abdomen. She thought for a second there…

But then the last thing ringing in her mind was the fundamental issue of Simon.

Because even without that dagger in her boy's stomach, she had that nauseating feeling that he wasn’t safe with Davy, blade or no blade.

This was the last thought she could think of before The Mage willed the blade to go in for the kill. 

Simon cried all the way to the Camaro, where the Mage cooed and cradled him as if he were a loving father who'd never let go of his son.

-

Baz was told he would have to end him in some way. Kill him. Maybe he could bite him, savour every drop of blood the notorious Chosen One has. He could place him in a stake. Burn him. Maybe he would do the classic blade in the chest move, or a spell powerful enough to end him.

He was told he would have to end Simon Snow in some way. People have been telling him this since he was five years old, small enough to walk, but also small enough to follow what the adults say, no matter what that thing is, even if it meant theft or murder. 

as a result of this, he followed his instructions to kill the chosen one without question, followed it like a manual or a booklet. He kept it to heart and practised his spells to complete and utter perfection by the time he turned eight. 

Because maybe then he could avenge his mother. Maybe then she'd come back to him. 

then, of course, the crucible paired Simon Snow and Basil Pitch together and that was when it all went downhill from there. 

It was summer. The second year of watford came to a bittersweet closure. All was well. The family was doing good, everyone was healthy. The air in the dining room was alive with conversation with sparks of laughter here and there. Champagne glasses were being passed around like a game of hot potato and the chandeliers were sparkly and glistening, crystal and divine even amidst the sullen, medieval and almost melancholy structure of the Pitch's mansion. 

He didn't know when the conversation started, didn't know when or how it turned to that direction, but the one thing he heard that day that got his attention was when his aunt, Fiona announced, "Simon Snow isn't human." 

The fuck? Fourteen year old Baz raised an eyebrow. Perhaps joining one of these adult conversations would be a little fun. "Why do you say that?" 

All Grimm-Pitch eyes turned to him expectedly, as if Baz had something imposing to offer them. Fiona smiled that devil smile of her's. "He was brought by the Mage. Everyone knows anything brought by that tyrant isn't natural." She took a agonisingly long sip of her red wine -- she didn't care for champagne -- and pursed her lips in an effort to retrieve the sweet and bitter aftertaste. With a feline grace she placed her glass back down on its coaster.

Baz picked up his fork, thinking that that was the end of a lovely exchange of words, but when Fiona cleared her throat and faced towards him, he had the obvious sense that she was just getting started. 

"Simon Snow is a weapon, Basil. Name me one hero who wasn't built for a single, certain purpose." Baz didn't bother answering. Just get to the point, he wanted to spit out. 

"Exactly. After Simon completes that purpose, after he's done saving the world of mages, lord knows what would happen next. A few celebrations, sure. Maybe even some cake and confetti. Then what? That's the only thing separating us from heroes, Baz. They're granted with a life purpose, we aren't. We live ambiguously, they don't. We have choices. Everything around us is a life choice. We get to be anything we will ourselves to be. But for people like Simon Snow?" She turned her head and grabbed her spoon, turning her ice cream around her glass like stew. "He's a weapon. He'll always be a weapon. Nothing will change that."

But if you could be anything, Baz thought. If you could be anything, then why do i feel like i have no other choice but to become the villain?

-

He almost felt bad for him. Almost. Besides, he was doing this for the greater good, so there was nothing to feel bad for, nothing to worry about. 

He could have had a childhood. This was Lucy’s voice. Or was it his own?  You could have given him that. He could have been a normal mage with likes and dislikes. A normal boy who plays soccer, who plays in the rain and jumps in rain puddles. You had the power to do that. You could have presented that boy with choices. 

The Mage dismissed this voice. Simon wasn’t normal. Simon was the Chosen One. Who wouldn’t want to be the hero of their own story? 

He was sure he left Simon here. Shame, maybe he could have placed him down in some other care home. Out of all the care homes it had to be the one with walls so old its ugly orange paint was peeling off around the corners. He could see mold around the space where the walls met its roof. 

The mage wrinkled his nose in disgust. It is possible that Simon may have learned the value of simplicity at least. Staying humble and all that. Though none of those trivial values mattered now.

He went through the Chosen One’s schedule for the next week, listing off all the essential bits and all the least important ones. He’s going to need training. He’s going to need lots of training. And supervision. Perhaps he could be there for Simon ti’ll he gets the hang of the whole Chosen One business.

He’s already planned it all. He’ll give Simon his wand — and what a powerful, experienced wand it is — and he could show him some tricks. He would give him special classes, explicitly for him. 

Next thing he’ll know it, he’ll be the saviour. The hero. He’ll be the Chosen One  and save the whole world of mages. That is the hope anyway. 

Though people like Davy don’t rely on hope. People like Davy call hope goals. They call goals objectives. People like davy see these objectives as check boxes ticked off by the second. 

So he adjusted his suit jacket. Looking over his shoulder, he gestured over to one of his men to come close. “Make sure Simon gets in the camaro once he gets out.” The gentleman nodded in response. 

History was in the making since the time Davy was in watford. Today, history is about to change. 

-

Her mom told her that Simon Snow was dangerous. Everyone tells her Simon Snow is dangerous.  Soon, as Penelope Bunce has come to learn, she noticed everyones been telling her lots of things about the Chosen One. They tell her to be careful. To never go near him by the time she would enter Watford. They tell her that he is the most powerful  mage to ever walk, and that his magic isn’t normal, that it isn’t contained. That he is a monster. One night, when she and her brother were trading ghost stories by the fireplace, he told her the story of the Chosen One and how he was sent by demons. She tried so very hard not to roll her eyes.

The point was, Simon Snow came off as many things. Maybe it was because of her stubbornness, maybe it was because of how insistent she was on proving to everyone that Simon Snow was not what everyone declared him to be, or perhaps it was simply because she was intrigued of Simon even before she met him. Maybe these were all valid reasons as to why Penelope befriended him on the first day of watford, despite her family’s warning.

Thinking back to the past events, to every word her relatives have said about her friend, every lie and rumour, she couldn’t help but smile. She smiled because she knew she was right once again and that the rest were wrong: Simon Snow is not a monster. She didn’t think he ever was. 

They’re seated across from each other on the breakfast table. It was their fourth day here in Watford, and Penny was pleased to find out that she was already leading top of the class. Well, that is, if it weren’t for Baz Pitch, maybe she really would have been top of the class and not fall on second. Second sucks. According to Simon, Baz sucks as well. (It turns out not a day away goes by without Simon mentioning his roommate. Penny tries her best to stay inquisitive throughout these discussions with her friend, but most days the whole conversation gets too tedious.) 

Speaking of discussions, she wanted to lead today’s conversation towards a direction — literally any direction — that has nothing to do with Simon’s roommate, so before he even gets the chance to open his mouth, Penny says “You know, i’ve heard a lot of things about you. Even before I came to Watford.” 

Simon stared. This was an indication enough for Penny to continue. “Like how your the Chosen One and all that.” 

The boy swallowed his cherry scone and almost as swiftly grabs another one. “Yeah, well, I am the Chosen one, so that figures.”

Penny thought for awhile. “Why are you the chosen one though? Out of everyone?”

“Because of my magic?” 

“how’d you get so much magic in the first place then? Your magic has to come from somewhere. Why would your parents leave you when they knew how much magic you contained?” She stopped herself from asking further questions. “Gosh, Simon I’m sorry. Was that too much?”

Simon kept his eyes plastered on the cherry scone in his hands. His eyes betrayed no emotion. “Thats fine Penny. I’m sure they had a reason though.” His voice sounded positive despite the subject of discussion, and that was the exact moment Penny knew this boy was nothing close to a monster. 

Simon Snow is just a boy. A boy with as many questions as she has. 

“Sometimes i like to think that my mom was a teacher. A really nice teacher who gives blueberry muffins to children who answer things correctly?” Simon dropped his scone, and the mere sight was a wonder to Penny’s two eyes. She decided it was best to encourage the conversation. “What would your dad be?”

“He’d be a football player. Like as in, celebrity football player. He’s the one who wins all the trophy’s, that one player the team couldn’t win without. He’d be riding in a limo and everything and there would be light shining everywhere from the paparazzi.” He smiled, thinking of these concepts. 

He knew it would do him no good to think of these things. But no one told him he couldn’t pretend. No one said pretending was bad.

So he pretended. He pretended he was loved. He pretended he was wanted and cherished. He pretended he had a mom and a dad and a life. 

The next thing Simon feels is a hand on-top his shoulder. Looking back he see’s the Mage in all his glory. “Simon, we’ve got work to do.” He had sounded so official, so down to the point. He also sounded like a leader, and the mage certainly dressed like it. 

Simon stood up. 

It was evident to Penelope that Simon wanted to be like the mage someday. She saw it in the way he looked at him, like the mage was some kind of statue he needed to replicate. As if the mage was the only person in the room who mattered to Simon.

Like he was the only person who bothered to care.

Simon left without question, leaving Penny looking dumbfounded and surprised. 

She knew that Simon Snow was just a boy, yes. What she does not know is if everyone could see that as well. Soon, she found herself hoping the mage out of all people could see that. 

Soon, she found herself by Simon’s side the next year, and the year after that, then the next year until her family had grown used of him, until they considered him family. 

Soon, she discovered that Simon no longer had one person in his life who cared.

Then when Baz Pitch strides by, when she catches the way Baz glances at his roommate or the small moments like the way he sneers at him…it turns out she wasn’t the only one who cared.  

-

They're seated in the dinning room and Penny can't handle it anymore. "Alright assholes tell you what, how bout i cook some fucking chicken and a steak. How bout that?"

Baz snorted. "Theres no way you could do both. Besides, if someone wouldn't be picky -- " 

"Try me Picth i dare you."

"uh, language."

Both Baz and Penny stare at the boy cradling himself on the chair. Penny glared. "Excuse me?"

“Well, you kept swearing, its bad for the baby."

"well don't you think its a little too late to—“ Penny stopped in her train of thought.

Now its Baz's turn to glare. He raised an eyebrow and politely, sarcastically asks, "What baby, Snow?" 

Simon smirked. "Im the baby, idiot. Hell if either of us could conceive don't you think we'd be having a family of sixteen right  --"

Baz threw a spoon at his husbands face to shut him up, rolling his eyes in the process. "Your a disgust, Snow. And also I saw that post about the whole baby shenanigan joke in tumblr, so don't think your so special."

He was surprised when he saw the look of hurt across Simon's face. He was even more surprised when that hurt looked genuine. "Jesus stop pouting -"

Penny cuts Baz off: "You have a tumblr?" Simon's eyes immediately perked up at that concept. Baz could tell tonight was going be a very long, very agonising night. 

“Im sorry, my mind just can’t wrap around the idea of you having a tumblr.” Penny joked, one hand on her hip and the other leaning against the kitchen counter. 

Simon looked to Penny. “I bet he has a username like CountBasilton360.” She laughed at that thought. “No, no, no I bet he named himself BazzieTheVampireSlayer and has a profile picture of Drarry Fanart!” 

Baz stood up in the middle of all the laughter and the chaos and gladly excused himself to his and Simon’s room. He silently grabs his laptop to change his profile picture. 

-

The veil is getting thinner by the second. I don't know if i could reach you -- but i did it before. I could do it again. 

it's funny, last time i reached out towards you Davy stabbed me with a dagger. Theres no dagger this time, Simon. I'm safe here. My only wish is for you to be safe there. 

So i tear open the Veil -- i could handle the consequences after. 

As luck would have it, you look happy. I see you seated in the dinning table with Natasha's boy. I notice identical rings in both your ring fingers, and i shouldn't be crying, but i cry anyway.

Oh, Simon. 

Everything revolved around you. Chances are you wouldn't have made it. But you look so happy … your smiling and your so bright and vibrant. 

I’ll love you the most, Simon. I’ll always love you the most.

I wasn’t there to prove it —

but I’m sure they will.

The last image i get from you is you laughing with your eyes closed, arms around your stomach.

And I’m sure your the most alive I have ever seen you.

For once in my entire life, I stop fighting the veil and I let its cool breeze devour me. 

~

[ifdragonscouldtalk]

congratumalations and merry crimsi i am gifting you pr666n. actually there isnt much pr0n in it, its a lot of aftercare cuz im feeling pretty needy right now, but you get it anyway. second time writing pr0m, hope i didn’t frick it up, sorry it’s shitty. read with caution y’all

“Safe words?” Steve whispered softly in his ear as he stroked up and down his side. The room was warm and the scene was easy, and he had already told his wonderful lovers he was feeling a bit needy today. They would take care of him. He shuddered at the soft touch, and the sounds of Bucky moving behind them. 

“Buzzsaw for pause,” he answered with a quiet sigh. “Welding for stop. And you?” 

He got “monkey” and “airplane”, then “bootstrap” and “mudcrawl”, respectively. They had decided to come up with unique words and symbols because they all felt safer that way, even though they could’ve gone with generic words. They did colors as well, to check in on each other, but the safewords were unique and intimate, and incredibly important -- on that they had all agreed. 

“Alright,” Steve said with a smile and a kiss to his cheek before rising from the bed. Tony shifted, listening to the clanking of the spreader bar attached to his knees and the chains that kept his elbows from straying too far forward. It was supposed to keep him from rutting against the bed, and he knew from experience it was an exquisite torture. “Colors?” 

“Green.” 

“Let’s fuck already!” Tony laughed at Bucky’s impatient tone. Steve huffed, and Tony tilted his head to look at Bucky as he gently settled the soft velvet collar around his neck. He shuddered, a breath whooshing out of him as Steve stroked up and down his back and spoke to him softly, nonsensical endearments before he settled again. (beware of read more) 

“Color?” Steve asked him softly again. Tony closed his eyes, trying to relax, letting his forehead slip down until it was resting on the bed. 

“Green,” he muttered, the warmth in the room making him drowsy. He hated being cold. It was a surefire way to send him into anxiety, and frost had started creeping on the edges of the windows in the morning recently. He was glad Bucky had thought to turn up the heat -- all of them had problems with the chill. 

“Good,” Bucky muttered, pressing soft kisses to the back of his neck and shoulders. “No hard play today. Just the spreader, doll. You tell us what you need.” Tony shuddered again and felt more tension slip out of him, nodding. 

Most of the time he enjoyed being told what to do in bed. It was the only place he didn’t have to feel in control. But today, he wasn’t sure he could handle it, even though he wanted it. So they were dialing back on the dom/sub play. He shivered as Steve settled behind him, running a soft hand over the curve of his ass before teasing one lubed up finger against his hole. He sucked in a breath at the feeling as Bucky settled on the bed next to him, sucking softly on his neck and shoulder -- not hard enough to leave a mark, but solid enough to be present. Not a pain, but a grounding feeling. They were being careful with him, and he appreciated it. 

Gently, Steve worked two fingers inside, stroking and stretching so softly Tony might cry at the tenderness and need welling up inside him. He bucked his hips, moaning when he couldn’t rut against the bed. Bucky let his hands roam, stroking up and down his sides, teasing his nipples, ghosting over his slowly hardening cock. None of them were in a rush, and Tony couldn’t help but think that this is what people meant when they said ‘making love’. 

“Beautiful,” Bucky muttered as he slowly slipped into his headspace despite the lack of play, licking and teasing the sensitive shell of his ear. His fingers tweaked Tony’s nipples, teasing them to hard points. “God, you’re gorgeous like this... Doing so well... Just for us...” Steve twisted his hand and Tony cried out, his back arching as pleasure shot up his spine. 

It was perfect. It was perfect. 

So why couldn’t he get the thoughts of Obadiah out of his head? How helpless he was whenever he was with the man, listening to his cloying lies, hearing the praises that never came from anyone else and were only gaslights for the man who would take everything... 

And Jesus, frozen on the couch with Obie leaning over him... He would be lying if he said it didn’t cross his mind, what the man could do to him, anything, he could’ve taken anything, and lucky he only wanted his life. 

Steve twisted his hand again and he cried out once more, tears springing to his eyes. “No!” He arched his back, rocking forward to try and pull away from them, from the hands that were touching him, they could do anything to him and he wouldn’t be able to stop it, he wouldn’t be able to stop it if they killed him. 

They wouldn’t. But if they did, he wouldn’t be able to stop it. 

Tied up or not. 

Bucky had him gathered up in his arms, warm and strong and smelling of stupid two dollar Head and Shoulders that Tony had come to love as Steve undid the spreader and the straps attached to it, gently repositioning him in Bucky’s lap as his legs came free. “Tony?” he asked, his voice full of fear and worry as he crowded close, gently pressing his hands to Tony’s cheeks. “Tony, are you okay? Baby, talk to us.” 

“I-I- R-Red, welding, I’m s-sorry I can’t-” His voice cracked and tears blurred his vision as he buried between his two lovers, wanting them to shield him from the pain and the fear. They pressed close, sandwiching him between their chests, breathing steadily. 

“Alright, okay doll, you’re alright. We got you.” Bucky pressed his lips to his hair, rocking them both gently as Steve gentled his hands down Tony’s sides, giving the arc reactor a wide berth. 

“I’m sorry,” Tony choked out. He did this more often than he should, and he-

“No, none of that sweetheart,” Steve mumbled, softly kissing his chin. “You’re fine. It’s alright to stop. It’s just sex. You’re more important.”

“What do you need?” Bucky asked gently, still rocking him slowly, and he would be lying if he said the soothing motion wasn’t helping. 

“I want...” Tony’s breath hitched and he reached up to tug on the velvet collar, a rich red that he normally loved but now seemed stifling, suffocating him. His fingers trembled as he tried to work the latch. “I-I need it off- I need to, to be clean, I don’t w-want the, the lube, I can’t-” 

“Okay,” Steve soothed quickly, easily removing the collar and tossing it away. “You’re okay, that’s okay. A bath?” 

“I... Not on my face-” 

“A bath then,” Bucky mumbled. “We’ll keep you above the water, babe. Us with you?” A flash of panic went through Tony at the thought of them leaving him, of him being unprotected, of this being the last straw for them and them not coming back. 

“W-with me,” Tony sobbed. “With me, I just- Don’t leave me-” 

“We won’t leave,” Steve mumbled to his cheek. “We won’t leave you, baby. We love you. More than anything. You’re stuck with us.” 

“Stuck with Stucky.” Bucky smiled at him and Tony couldn’t help the weak chuckle that escaped him. They had discovered shipping names a couple weeks ago and found them amusing. He was fond of ‘starkbucks’. 

“I love you,” he breathed, his voice cracking, as Steve and Bucky peppered his face with soft kisses that didn’t feel overwhelming. He repeated it as they helped him into the bath, as Steve held him in his lap and helped him clean off. As Bucky carefully massaged shampoo into his curls and used a cup to rinse it out, never getting any water on his face. As Steve scrubbed at his back and Bucky massaged his hands. As they cleaned off and teased, all smiles and laughter. As they helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in soft towels and patted him dry. 

As they climbed into bed and ate chocolate and nuts and forced him to drink a bottle of water because “Like hell I’m going to see you dehydrated just because you had a spot of panic, doll”. 

As they wrapped themselves around him and listened while he cried out what was wrong, and told him that it was perfectly alright to feel that way and they would never want him to force himself to keep having sex with them when he felt like that, that they would always be there for him. 

And one more time as he dozed off, exhausted and full and contented and warm. “We love you too, Tony,” Steve whispered into the back of his neck, tightening the arms around him. 

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” Bucky said with a choked voice to his forehead, pressing a gentling kiss there. 

“Even when I’m fucked up?”

“Especially then.” 

[survivor-tierradelfuego]

Ep. 8: “The leftovers. The unchosen ones. The losers.” - Najwah

Cody A. 

https://youtu.be/OSh0mvYBSwo

James Hayden

We just got back from tribal and Ryan was blindsided 3-1. I feel bad for the guy because he had no idea this was going to happen, but that' Survivor for you. I thought there'd be a merge at 13, but Jay's questions at tribal put some doubt in my mind. If it's not a merge, then I think I'm an ok spot if my tribe has to go back to tribal. I'm just praying to the Survivor ORG gods for a merge today or tomorrow.

Cody A. 

https://youtu.be/sg4qe6MUjJU

James Hayden

https://youtu.be/oGcQdHpBzhY

Zack M

i don't know how they did it but let's take a moment to shout out james and najwah making it through tribal! no idol needed. im so proud of them. i feel like james will gladly come back to our original alliance once we merge but najwah's commentary always leaves me feeling uneasy. no offense but like do you want to play with anyone, najwah? lol. you have to somewhat trust someone at some point in this game. i would love to work with najwah for as long as possible if she is still around after the merge but unfortunately all of the comments that have been made throughout the game will keep me from promising her anything longterm out of fear that she will run around like a crazy person at merge. also, i believe that she will be the first person to mention my name from hanuha in hopes of it becoming a big move that she could put on her resume. maola doesn't know me yet. i guess they could see me as a threat because of being picked as a captain but like i don't consider maddison a threat. lol. pedro and kalle seem to want revenge. i think it would be fun to get her out first at merge. i'm just rambling now. i'm hungry. we got the new challenge. it's some mini online games or something like that. idk. i'm not a gamer so i was like i have therapy and can't do this bye. i wonder if they think i'm making up my therapy sometimes but like if you guys have ever questioned it i promise i'm not. i have it monday, wednesday, and fridays lol. anyways, cody pedro and kalle are playing. i really only trust me and ben so like fml. hopefully pedro and kalle understand that they are playing for their lives and we win again. fingers crossed. ok i'm going to get chicken tenders. bye. 

James Hayden

Things post tribal did not go according to plan. I would've put money on us merging tonight, but instead we have another tribe challenge. There's a small part of me that thinks Edge of Extinction is play in this season. After this challenge, we will be down to 12 people and seasons post 30 that have a 20 person cast merge at 13. I think there's a chance we do merge at 13, but the 13th person is the Edge returnee. 

As far as this challenge is concerned, video games aren't my strong point. I'm not a gamer, but these games are pretty straight forward. If we have to go back to tribal I'm voting Amy. Voting out Najwah would hurt my game because it would show the rest of Hanuha that I'm not #Hanuhastrong and it would tie us back up at 6 original Hanuha and 6 original Maola. Voting out Amy gives us a 7-5 advantage heading into a potential merge, shows I'm #Hanuhastrong, and weakens Maddison who I think was the ringleader of Maola 1.0. 

Najwah

Last night's tribal was interesting and actually the hardest tribal council. Ryan started a group with James and I 7 minutes after Palena was formed which already made us weary of him. He then tried to blindside me and made me believe he's blindsiding Amy and asked me about James and his previous alliance and it was just a mess. He's an awesome person and great team player but it was just too much scrambling and we all feared he'd flip flop throughout the game, which is dangerous. I'm trying not to use this space as therapy sessions lmao so I'll keep it short. Uhm, I think i have a good thing going with Amy and James. I just really hope we win this challenge, or rather, don't come last so that I can work with them going forward. Amy let me know she has a steal a vote and I told her about my fake idol and we'd like to work together. I really like these two people. A LOT. I lied in tribal when I said I didn't want to keep things Hanúha strong going forward. I can't believe I have to lie and blindside now lmao its becoming HECTIC. I'm really hoping we did enough to at least place second in this challenge. 🤞🏽🤞🏽

Olivia A

I’m doing so bad at all of these games rn and I feel so bad bc I asked specifically to not sit out of this challenge. I play little phone games and stuff literally all the time and am really good at them and for some reason am just doing so so bad today. If we lose then it’s probably my fault but also my alliance of 3 is really solid rn so I’m not actually worried about getting voted off. I still feel so bad I hate this so much.

Cody A. 

https://youtu.be/8QZTwYzVqVI

Pedro A

if tomorrow is the merge IMMM GONNA DIEEEEE...we won once again..cause we the baddest.....honestly how am i still alive?...LIKE HOW??....chilllleeee

Olivia A.

Okay woah I’m so happy about this win I was so nervous. I feel like we’re in a really good place going into the merge I’m excited :)

Pedro A

i was about to write my pled for help to the 3 hanuha original members..so they could keep me over kalle...but now who cares...i will throw anyone hunder the bus ....to get to that final

Cody A.

Coming into this game being the competitor that I am, I never imagined even entertaining the idea of throwing a challenge.... BUT when Ben came to me with the idea of making a big move on Zack, I’d be lying If I said I didn’t think about it.. That being said however, I didn’t throw it, but I also did not try as hard as I could have.... I’m very surprised we are not talking to Jay at tribal right now.. Moving forward though, we need Zack.. I need Zack.. If we are merging tonight it is strictly a numbers game from here. I am ready to get my hands dirty, make big moves, and WIN THIS DAMN GAME!!!

James Hayden

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TXbaQPdhQw0&feature=youtu.be

Najwah

After that whole challenge experience and this entire week, I don't even know what to say. It's been a tiring experience. Being on a tribe where no one really connects is the worst. I tried telling James that the other tribes were highly competitive but for some reason he was okay with his scores? This entire week I've barely had any sleep. Even now, it's almost 5am and people are just on our tribe, OKAY with low scores? We were doomed from the beginning. The leftovers. The unchosen ones. The losers. Honestly, it messes with you psychologically too. I'm tired of scrambling and relying on tribemates to make an effort. I wanted to work with Amy but she's so difficult to get hold of/unresponsive even though we are on similar timezones. James is hellbent on keeping it Hanúha strong and really, hope he isn't playing me. My heart honestly cannot deal any betrayal so close to merge, I'd also like to just enjoy my Saturday. I deserve to be on the merge tribe. Will most likely be at the bottom ass of the tribe but I want to be in it, nonetheless. I worked for it. And right now, I'm exhausted. Annoyed. Frustrated. Fucking mad. This tribe swap has honestly been DRAINING. Everyone is too nice and meek and people just don't care about winning lol.  I hate the anxiety and sleeplessness of these past few days. I forgot what life was like before this ORG lol what did I do? I miss Leanne, still. The best person in this game. I hate it here. I just want to get to merge and be able to breathe again. 

Sarah

Ahhhhh I can’t believe our tribe, Maola, won the challenge by so much. I legit thought we were going to lose and didn’t have high enough scores. Aimee freaking killed it on her scores, wow. I have been telling Aimee how to buy the small perfume bottles that give you advantages and where to get coins to buy them. She used FIVE on that challenge yesterday (I wouldn’t have used all five butttt). Part of my strategy during this tribe swap has been buying/playing advantages so we don’t have to go to tribal because I still don’t know who is close to who, and the more I’m with this tribe the more I feel like they really just don’t talk to each other and there’s not much gameplay happening. Part of my strategy with convincing Aimee to buy and use advantages was also so I know how many coins she has because that can come in handy at Merge. I also wanted to give her information about the idol hunt (which I got from others— I’ve never actually idol hunted not knowing where or what I was getting) so she could trust me. I FREAKING hope tomorrow is the Merge! How awesome would it be for our original tribe to have the majority and for me to still have an idol. I feel like after this tribe swap, Cody and I will be in the best position in the game when it comes to all of our connections with people. We have our group with Zack and Ben, I feel close with James and now Aimee, and Cody feels close with Najwah. So we really are kind of in the middle and as long as people don’t find out about how close we are, we can just get all the information from others and share with each other. I guess I won’t stop posting a brick.... sorry. 

James Hayden

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zjWjJwew7rc

Zack M

welp. i think this is it. could we finally be merging tonight after tribal? or are we swapping to two tribes of 6? that would be super lame. all i know is something is happening and i'm glad because i've been so bored in this tribe. we keep winning. there's no reason to play. i need action. the third tribe that starts with a p is going to tribal again. i don't remember the name. hopefully james and najwah stay hanuha strong so we can go into the merge 7 / 5. if najwah turns she will be my #1 target. she's too dangerous for my game to allow her to run around. other than that ... we came in second during the last competition. we were so lucky. the maola tribe killed it. i wish i would have played because our teams scores were low key pathetic. the p tribe could have beat us if all their players had participated. like is kalle even playing the game? is she here? i talked to her once. i know i should reach out in case it is the merge but it almost feels pointless. i'm sure she will run back to the 3 girls in maola. pedro seems to legit want revenge for john and is open to work together. i hope he isn't lying because i truly do want to take him as far as i can. look, i know i'm talking kind of cocky but i believe in acting in the way you want things to go. i'll be a clown if i'm blindsided. i don't mind. i like clowns. however, this is the way i see it going down in my head ... - we stay hanuha strong - we get out the 3 girls from maola - we get out kalle - we take out aimee and kalle - we take out pedro and james - we then take out sarah - then we have ben cody and i at finale 3 just how we planned it it could honestly work. we just have to figure out idols and make sure no one plays them correctly. and that's where i'm at right now. wish me luck. 

Aimee

http://rebloggy.com/post/gif-pokemon-cute-anime-kawaii-charmander-s01e01/106470386286 Happy dance! I’m all for keeping this tribe together. Haha I may have gone a little over board on making sure I did my best on the flash games, but you really never know what the other tribe is going to be doing or getting on these challenges. I hope this doesn’t make me look like a challenge threat if I make it to merge. Sarah has really helped me with idol hunting and finding coins and where to find the advantages. This is great trust building! Thanks Hanuha for the free coins I yoinked from one of your bags at your camp.😏 After everything that happened in the last tribe and despite me voting for her, Sarah and I have really come a long way! I truly had the wrong read on her before. She is actually now someone I am very close with and get along well! Last night after we won immunity she told me she really wants to work with me moving forward in the game! Let’s do it girl! I really enjoy talking to Grae. They seem really genuine and such a kind-hearted person. They keep giving me little messages that seem to hint at wanting to work together. I think at this point it’s unspoken but we both know we would love to. We just get along so well. I also vibe really well with Maddison and I know she could be a very good ally in the future in this game. Olivia proved she is a total team player on this tribe and listened to our advice during the immunity challenge and really stepped up her scores! I am having such a much better time on this tribe and am really enjoying myself. These relationships feel WAY more organic. I will do what I can to help keep this going! I would love to see all of us make it to merge. I’m also so so happy Najwah is still in the game after her last tribal and hopes she makes it through the next tribal!

James Hayden

We are 45 minutes away from tribal and Najwah messaged me saying Amy is ok. We were worried about her because she's been MIA over the past couple days. Per Najwah, Amy will not play her vote steal. It sounds like Amy wants out of the game and if this is what she wants, I will oblige. There's a small part of me that thinks Amy is playing us, but I don't think that's the case. 

Maddison

Everyone is expecting a merge tonight, and original Maola is down in numbers. Hoping I can find cracks and worm my way in. 

Pedro A

SO i told everything to zack......he seems to rule that allience....so he will 100% tell the others....and will try to take grae and maddison out...

Pedro A

Grae and Maddison just create fake alliences.so people dont write their name down....and make people feel safe... AND im here to make justice for john PERIODTTTT.... #justiceforjohn

Ben Kessler

I hope we are merging. Pedro is out for revenge against his former alliance. Zack is a threat and I need it to be known. Cody and I are hopefully solidified. If we merge, grae and maddison are apparently big threats according to Pedro. So that is fine with me. Just gotta keep making sure the people I'm closest with stay in.

Kalle N

hey I'm super high rn and I don't remember if I did this already or not so her I go. I hope we merge soon so I can vote people out that have wronged me. can't believe we won the last challenge even after I did basically nothing. ok gtg ily bye

Amy A

So this round has been tough. My Internet issues were definitely the reason my tribe lost and I wanted to quit cos I felt so terrible but I think Najwah and I can do something with my steal a vote. I’ll steal hers and vote James so no one will suspect we’re working together and then go into the merge with our little secret alliance. Bliss 

Olivia A

I’m excited for merge but not sure if we’ll able to get numbers together and have a majority.

Najwah

All I know is that shit is going to hit the fan at this tribal and I'm scared as hell. Only three of us. You'd think it would be easier but it's terrifying. 

Cody A

https://youtu.be/QM4CiTbrjgw

Pedro A

im scared of the merge...scared of the girls allience...scared of me being a target...for being a wild card ...and scared of maddison and graeee.....kill me at this point

[joohoneyhoe]

Push and Pull| Eleven

|Chapter One| |Chapter Two| |Chapter Three| |Chapter Four| |Chapter Five| |Chapter Six| |Chapter Seven| |Chapter Eight| |Chapter Nine| |Chapter Ten| |Chapter Eleven| |Chapter Twelve|

pairing: Jimin x oc x Jaebum genre: smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation word count: 2.8k a/n: Isolde spent three years with Jimin after meeting him by chance in a dance studio. He was perfect and he loved her, she thought he was the one she’d spend the rest of her life with. That all crumbles when he decides he wants to please his parents and leave her so he can be with someone like him. Isolde is plummeted into turmoil and leaves her job as a choreographer to move back home to the states. A mutual friend named Im Jaebum reaches out to console her, lift her back up from her fragile state. It’s a push and pull tug between what she thought she had and what she could have.

Since Jaebum left almost three days ago, my apartment has felt utterly empty. I got so used to coming home to him after a long day of work or even just waking up next to him. My bed felt cold and desolate and I absolutely hated it. I hated that I felt so alone without him. Especially after nine months of being on my own and having my own space. I didn’t want to feel that way all over again, but I did.

I plopped down onto my couch next to Bane, who looked up at me with a bored expression. “Don’t give me that judgmental look, you’re a cat.” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. He slow blinked at me and returned to his nap, completely uninterested. I let out a huff, standing up to get out of the real clothes I had put on for no reason and go throw on one of the shirts Jaebum had left for me. It was my day off, I didn’t need to be dressed, so why bother? I had no where to be.

After I quickly showered and got dressed, I threw myself down onto my bed. I didn’t even know what to do with with myself anymore. It was borderline pathetic. My phone began to vibrate on my nightstand and I lazily rolled over to grab it.

Suran.

Well, fuck. I hadn’t talked to her in over a week and I’m sure she was getting worried at this point. I swiped over to accept the call, putting it up to my ear.

“Yellow.” I greeted.

“Hey! Where have you been, Isolde? I haven’t heard from you in over a week. I was getting worried.” 

Knew it.

“Sorry, love. Last week was, a little on the hectic side. I didn’t have much time to call or anything.” I lied, unsure of when I should even bring Jaebum up to her.

“Ah, I figured. I just thought I should call and check in on you. Plus, I kinda have some interesting gossip to share with you.” I could hear people in the background, so I knew she was down at her favorite coffee shop near the dorm. She must not have wanted any of the guys to hear what she was going to tell me if she was there.

“Really? And what would that be?” I probed, my interest peaked. 

“Okay, so this morning the boys all went to JYP to practice with Got7 for the MAMA awards coming up. They’re doing a collab again I guess. Anyway, They were all there by like nine this morning, but couldn’t start because JB wasn’t there yet. Apparently, he disappeared for like, a week and went back home without telling anyone. So, it’s nearly ten by the time he shows up and Yoongi said he seemed really unsettled, almost pissed off.” 

She explained, my stomach beginning to turn at the thought of Jaebum being in the same room as Jimin. I knew he had a temper on him and I’m pretty sure I knew exactly where this story was going already.

“So, he says hi to everyone and quickly walks off. Well, Jimin had been listening to BamBam, who happened to be talking to Yoongi about how much JB talks to you before he showed up. Jimin left to go talk to JB and next thing everyone knows, JB is screaming at Jimin. Yoongi said he’s never seen JB so upset the entire time he’s known him. I guess Jackson and Jinyoung had to drag him out of the practice room to even get him to calm down.” I let out my breath, trying to calm myself before speaking.

“So, what happened after that then? Jaebum didn’t leave, did he?” I questioned, trying not to sound too curious.

“No, he didn’t. Yoongi said that Jimin went out to go talk to him and when they came back in, they were fine. They just kind of stayed out of each others way. Yoongi said Jimin didn’t tell him what went on outside the practice room and doesn’t seem to want to.”

“Wow, that’s crazy. What did Jaebum go off on Jimin about?” I bit my thumb nail nervously, hoping she wouldn’t detect it in my tone.

“You. JB yelled at him about you, Isolde.” she replied softly, her voice doing the thing it did right before she confronted me about something.

“Oh, wow. I don’t know why he would do that.”

“Isolde, you do realize I know when you’re lying, right?” she chuckled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else. Who is this again?” she laughed, making that little snorting noise she did when she was trying to be quiet.

“Come on, Isolde. I know something is going on that you haven’t told me about. And I know it directly involves JB. Spill it.” I let out a groan, turning over on my side to get more comfortable.

“I hate that you know me so well.”

“I know you do. Now spit it out. What’s happening with Im Jaebum to make him have an outburst like that on Jimin in front of everyone?” chewing on my lip, I contemplated what it was I should tell her. 

“You can’t tell Yoongs. I know he won’t say anything to anyone, but as far as I know, Jackson is the only one who knows.”

“Knows what, Isolde?” she inquired, her voice dipping a little.

“Jaebum came here the week he just up and left. He came here to tell me about Jimin and his fiancè to my face instead of on the phone.” I confessed, my heart racing but at the same time, a weight lifting off my shoulders.

“What?! He flew all the way to the Americas to tell you that? That’s insane, Isolde.”

“I know. But, I’m glad he did because…well, other things wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t.”

“Other things? What other things?” she gasped. “You guys hooked up, didn’t you?!”

“It’s more than that Suran. We’ve been talking every day since I left Korea and…I’ve developed much more than just a friendship with him. He has too. We’re–we’re kind of together now?” I let a shaky breath out, feeling myself relax after finally telling her.

“OH MY GOD! You are?! Holy shit, Isolde! I’m so excited!” she practically shouted into my ear, making me pull the phone away.

“Wait, you are?”

“Of course I am! Yoongi and I weren’t sure you would ever move past Jimin. Not after how long the two of you were together. This is so amazing and I’m just glad you’re happy. That’s all I want for you. Plus, I think JB was interested in you even before you and Jimin split. He was always around when you would hang out with Jackson, but respectful about it. I think it’s kind of cute.”

“Oh my God, shut up, Suran.” I replied with a laugh, feeling my cheeks get red with embarrassment. 

“I’m serious. I’m happy for you, Isolde. You deserve to be happy.” tears pricked my eyes at her kind words.

“You really are my best friend, Suran.”

“And you are mine, Isolde.” the notification for a skype call sounded on my laptop, my head spinning in that direction.

“Hey, speak of the devil. I have to go, Jaebum is skyping me.” I informed her, swiftly getting up and heading over to my desk.

“Ok, say ‘hi’ to him for me. Bye, I love you!”

“I love you too, bye!” I ended the call and immediately accepted the skype call, Jaebum’s face filling my screen.

“Hey, baby. I miss you.” he said instantly, his eyes wandering my bare face.

“I miss you too, Jae. A lot.”

“I hate to start out like this, but I kinda have something that I need to tell you about. It happened this morning…” his eyes dropped down to his hands as he picked at his nails nervously.

“You freaked out on Jimin at practice today. I know.” his head shot back up, eyes wide in surprise.

“How-who-what?” he stammered, making me chuckle.

“Suran just called me and told me. She says ‘hi’ by the way. Apparently Yoongi told her all about it.”

“I’m sorry, Is. I don’t know what happened. I just–I just sort of snapped. I didn’t mean to. I was so embarrassed after it happened too.”

“Jae, it’s alright. I don’t blame you honestly. This all has just kind of been an inconvenience for you from the beginning, especially with you guys being friends.” 

“Is, you are not an inconvenience by any means. I’d do this all over again in a heartbeat. Don’t ever say you’re an inconvenience to me again, because you aren’t.” he demanded, his face serious as he spoke. His fingers carded through his soft black hair, making me wish I could feel it between mine.

“Jeabum-” I started, but was swiftly cut off.

“Isolde, I–fuck, I don’t even know how to say it.” he tilted his head back, hands running over his face in frustration.

“What, Jae?” I questioned, feeling my heart leap into my throat. He looked back at me, his dark eyes filled with emotion. 

“I should have told you when I was there, Is. But, I didn’t have the balls to do it.”

“Do what, Jaebum?” pulling my bottom lip between my teeth, I bit back a smile.

“You’re not an inconvenience, Is. I’d do it all over again, because–because I love you. I’d do anything for you, as pathetic as it sounds. I know it’s been just nine months and only a week of that was actually spent with you, but I do. You don’t have to recipro-” it was my turn to cut him off.

“I love you, Jaebum. I do. I wanted to tell you that too, but I wasn’t sure you felt that way about me so soon. I didn’t want you to think this was a whole, rebound thing, either. It’s not. I love you in an entirely new and different way than I ever did Jimin. This is all new to me. With him it was so–so primal and immediate, we were together within three months of meeting each other. But, with you, you became my friend first, helped me without needing anything from me but my friendship. It’s a good different and it’s how it should happen. I’m glad it’s how this happened.”  I could feel my heart hammering against my rib cage, trying desperately to break free.

“I love you. I really do, Is. I wish I was there right now so I could show you. I’m not very good with expressing how I feel, if that wasn’t obvious enough.” I felt a smirk tugging at the corner of my lips, getting an idea.

“I think you can show me, it’ll just have to be over the computer instead.” gripping the hem of my shirt, I lifted it up and tossed it to the floor, leaving me in only a pair of lacy red underwear. His eyes widened with surprise, his adams apple bobbing as he visibly gulped.

“Fuck, Is. You’re going to be the death of me.” he growled as he tore the shirt from his body, making me want to reach out and touch his sculpted chest.

“I wish I was there right now. I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk right for a week. Jesus! I’m already hard just thinking about all the things I should be doing to you.” I watched his jaw clench and unclench, clearly worked up already.

“I wish you were here too, it’s been frustrating not being able to see you, touch you and be touched by you. It’s driving me insane.” my hand trailed down between my thighs, dipping below my underwear to touch my already wet folds. A moan immediately left my parted lips, head tilting back.

“Fuck, I should be the one doing that to you. I hate this. I can’t even see what you’re doing to yourself. I need to see you.” he whined, I could tell by the almost pained expression on his face, he was restraining from touching himself and I didn’t want that. I wanted to see him lose control just as much as I was.

“Hang up and facetime me. I want to see you, ALL of you.” I gasped, index finger circling my swollen bud.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t do ANYTHING else without me.” he ended the call and I quickly shut my laptop, standing up and removing my underwear before laying down on my bed. My phone rang not even thirty seconds later. His face came into my view, he was laying on his bed now, his breathing heavy.

“Ok-I’m back, fuck. Why do you do this to me so easily? Show me what you’re doing. I gotta see you, Is.” he begged, I could tell now he was stroking himself, but in languid pumps to keep himself in check. I put the camera higher, so my full body was in view as my hand moved between my thighs.

“Is this what you wanted to see?” I inquired, slowly teasing my clit as I tried to prolong the act we were playing out together.

“Fuck! That should be my head between your thighs, not your fucking hand. Goddammit, Is.” his head flung back, a snarl bubbling from deep within his chest as he sped his movements up.

“You’re not being very nice, I can’t see you.” I complained, whining almost pathetically as I slipped a finger into my heat, making me groan. He tilted his camera, showing me his long slender fingers gripping his painfully ridged cock. His thumb flicked over the slit with each pass he made, his thighs twitching.

“Oh my god, I need you so badly, Jaebum. I want you here, right now, fucking me until I scream out your name.” I inserted another finger, speeding up my movements as I felt the burning intensifying in my lower abdomen. He also increased his pace, his breathing coming out in labored huffs as he held back his moans.

“I never thought I’d ever be into phone sex, but this is better than I expected. You look so beautiful spread out like that, fucking yourself while you talk to me.” at that moment, I curled my fingers, successfully hitting my sweet spot and making me cry out.

“I’m so close already, Jae. I don’t think I can go much longer.” I panted, thumb rubbing against my clit now as I drew closer and closer to my climax. I could tell he was close too, the vein in his neck protruding as he concentrated and the veins in his hands becoming more visible with each pass.

“Me too. Fuck-I’m going to cum any minute now.” he told me, his eyes darting back to meet mine. I kept curling my fingers, hitting that same spot over and over as he continued to do the same to himself. I felt the burning in my abdomen take over, my orgasm hitting me like an avalanche as I cried out his name.

“Fuck-fuck, oh god, Is.” he came, thin ribbons of cum shooting out and landing along is stomach as he continued to pump his length. We both rode out our highs, getting as much out of it as we could. The burning sensation finally subsided and I carefully removed my fingers, pulling the camera back to it’s original place on just my face. He pumped himself a few more times before removing his hand, letting his cock slap against his stomach. 

“God damn, Is…that was, really fucking hot. I can honestly say I’ve never done that before. Ten out of ten, would do again.” he said with a chuckle, leaning over to grab something to wipe himself off with. I ran a hand through my slightly dampened hair, letting a long drawn out breath.

“Actually, I never have either, surprisingly.” I informed him as I got up and found his shirt I had thrown off earlier, slipping it back on before crawling back into my bed. He didn’t look at all surprised by the statement and just grinned devilishly.

“Glad I was the first.”

“Me too, actually. I didn’t know I was even into that.” I giggled, feeling myself growing tired and it was only ten in the morning. I got under my covers, making myself comfortable as I watched him pull his underwear back on and do the same. He let out a deep sigh, very clearly tired from the day.

“I don’t want to go, but I have to. It’s two and I have to be at practice by nine again tomorrow. Do you want me to call you in the morning still?” he questioned, his eyes growing heavy with sleep. I smiled, wishing I could run my fingers along his back and sooth him to sleep like I had while he had been with me.

“Of course I do. Get some sleep, I’ll talk to you in a few hours.” he yawned, sleep trying to pull him in.

“Okay, baby. I–I love you.” he whispered, a small smile lighting up his exhausted face. I couldn’t hide my smile from him, committing those three words to my memory forever.

“I love you too, Im Jaebum. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Is.”

He ended the call, my screen going blank. I rolled onto my back, Bane immediately coming to lay between my arm and my side. I stroked his long soft fur, feeling content. The last thing I thought before I finally fell asleep was how much I wanted to go back home.

No, I needed to go back home.

[mclennunf]

This Boy - Chapter 20

~John’s~

The feeling of being on stage in Hamburg with George, Stu, Ritchie and of course, Paul, was one of the best feelings in the entire world. It was like being high, we fed off each other’s energy as well as the crowd’s.

Earlier in the day, George had told me that one of the prozzies was talking to him about queer marriage and the fact that it was legal in Paris. I couldn’t get it off my mind.

This particular night was more successful than most. The Star Club was packed tight, and there were even people lined up out the door. But even better than that, all of us were in an amazing mind set. The music sounded great, and we all felt great. Stu was on my microphone with me, and Paul and George were sharing a microphone. Ritchie was up on his drum kit looking as happy as ever.

I looked over at Paul to find he was already looking at me. He had a huge smile on his face and his pupils were huge! I was so happy to see he was having such a good time. I winked at him and got back to pleasing the crowd.  

By the time the end of our set rolled around, we did our bow and exited the stage to the dressing room. “Bloody best show we’ve had yet, that was!” I said as I patted Stu on the back, who nodded in agreement. Paul and George were already getting ready to leave, but I wanted to stay for a drink. “Headin’ out then, Paul? Geo?” I asked. Paul turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Are you not comin’ with?” He asked. “John, Ritchie and I are going to stay and have a drink. John will come home to wifey a little later after hanging out with the big boys, right Lennon?!” Stu answered for me as he jabbed me in the arm. “Yes, love. I’ll be up to the hotel soon, just gonna have a pint with Stu and Ritchie.” I told Paul as George walked by me, Paul not far behind. As Paul went to walk by, I grabbed his arm. “Are you okay, m'love?” I asked quietly. Paul nodded, and I noticed his pupils were now extremely tiny, almost unseen.

“I love you.” I said even quieter in his ear in order for Ritchie not to hear. “Don’t forget to take your meds, John.” Paul said a little louder and walked away. That threw me off. He knew I took my medication in the morning in order for the alcohol I drank at night not to conflict with it. “What’s got his knickers in a twist?” Stu asked loudly. Paul spun around and dropped his guitar case down, coming back down toward Stu. “Paul,” I tried to grab him but he flung his arm away and shot me a death stare. My eyes widened, I’d never seen Paul like that before. Paul grabbed Stu by the collar and held him up, his feet dangling, against the dirty brick wall. “Fuck off, McCartney!” Stu yelled, as he tried to squirm out of Paul’s surprisingly strong hold.

I ran up behind Paul and grabbed his shoulders. “Paul! Put him down!” I tried to sound as nice as possible, still while having Paul know I was serious. Let them fight. They’re fighting over you. I stumbled back away from my boyfriend and best friend as I heard the words in my head. I hadn’t for so long that I was in shock by it. I shook my head a few times to bring myself back down to earth when I saw Paul putting Stu down. “Oh thank god.” I mumbled as I walked back over to them. Ritchie shook his head. “I’m going to get a fuckin’ drink before this gets too ridiculous.” He said as he walked out of the dressing room and back out into the club.  "Hell McCartney, didn’t pin you as the violent type. More as the damsel in distress.“ Stu chuckled. Paul’s face was beat red. "I will fucking kill you, Stuart.” Paul snarled. “Paul! Don’t fuckin’ say shit like that, c'mon I’ll take ye back to the hotel…” I said as I tried to pull Paul away from Stu. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Paul could peel his eyes away from him.

“Y'know what, John? Leave him. He won’t do anything, anyway.” Stu told me, with a smirk on his face. Paul lunged at him, and pushed him to the ground. Paul climbed on top of him and hit Stu in the face twice before Stu over powered and rolled Paul on to his back. “BLOODY HELL!” I yelled as I tried to pull Stu off of Paul. I knew Paul didn’t like physical violence, for obvious reasons, but having Stu on top of him, hitting him repeatedly in the face must have hurt more than his face. “STU! GET THE FUCK OFF ‘IM!” I screamed as I yanked at Stu’s shoulders. “Fuck OFF Lennon!” Stu screamed as his elbow came flying into my nose. “Fuck!” I yelped in pain as I felt blood trickle out of my nose and down my face. Paul had stopped trying to fight back, his body fell limp and his eyes were closed. His face was covered with blood. I was frozen. I had never thought I’d see Paul like that again. It made images of him lying unconscious in that hospital bed flash through my mind. “Stu! You’re gonna kill him!” I heard George yell from behind me as he ran back into the dressing room and yanked Stu off of Paul. “What the hell John?!” George looked at me with panic and anger in his eyes. Stu sat back against the wall trying to catch his breath, George holding him there.

I knelt down to Paul and lifted his head up onto my lap. “Paul?” I said, trying to wake him up.  His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, looked over at Stu and back at me. He shoved me as he tried to stand up on his own. I jumped to my feet and held his arm as he stood up. “Fuck off, John.” He said, blood pouring out the side of his mouth. I looked at George for help. “Take him to your room. I’ll take care of this one.. Ritchie will get your guitars.” George told me, sounding extremely annoyed. Paul walked out the back door, and I was close beside him, trying to give him some help. “I don’t want your help.” Paul said before spitting a large amount of blood on the ground. “Do you want a cigarette, then?” I asked, trying not to push his limits.

Fuckin’ leave him.

Had I forgotten to take my medication this morning?

“Yes please.” Paul said. “Huh?” I had zoned out. “Fuckin’ cigarette, Lennon.” Paul said as he stopped, putting his hand out - waiting for a smoke. I put two in my mouth and lit them for us, handing one to him. I wanted to talk to him about the voices, but I couldn’t make this about me. “Are you gonna tell me what all that was about, then?” I asked as we approached the hotel. “John, let me have my smoke, a shower, and then maybe we can talk about it. Okay?” He said, his voice sounding closer to it’s normal softness. I nodded and opened the door to the lobby. He let a small smile out the side of his mouth. “Always such a gentleman.” He whispered as he walked by me and through the door. I hated myself at that moment, I had stood idly by as my best friend beat the living hell out of my boyfriend.

When we got into the hotel room, I didn’t try to push anymore out of Paul. He went into the bathroom and I heard the shower turn on. I lied down on our bed and felt sorry for Paul for having to deal with a horrible boyfriend such as myself. I shouldn’t have froze up the way that I had. I should’ve kicked Stu’s ass. I decided I would change into comfier clothes, so I stood up and went over to my suitcase. I opened it up and began to rummage through it, and it wasn’t until I stumbled across Paul’s journal that I realized I was rummaging through the wrong suitcase. I held the journal in my hands, staring at it for a few moments.  The shower was still on, so I could get away with reading it. As guilty as it made me feel reading his journal, I wanted to know what was going on with him.

I flipped to the most recent entry. The page on the left was a song he had been working on. But, the page on the right…

I have a feeling John is screwing Stuart.

If not screwing, he’s in love with him.

What I’m saying is I don’t think John and I are going to last with Stuart around..

My heart is hurting.

I heard the shower turn off and I threw his journal back under some clothing and closed the suitcase, immediately feeling guilty for invading his privacy, but even more so because I had made him feel like I was cheating on him. Was I that bad of a boyfriend? Paul walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette, staring at the floor. I crawled on the bed behind him on my hands and knees and began kissing his shoulder and neck. “Are you okay?” I mumbled against his warm, still damp skin. He shook his head. “Look at me, Macca.” I said, now sitting with my legs crossed. He turned around and looked at me, tears brimming in his eyes.

“What’s going on with you m'love?” I asked as I kissed his nose. He shook his head again. I touched his cheek and examined the damage on his face. “I’m losing you.” Paul managed to mumble, sounding like the small fragile little boy I met in high school. I tried to pull him into my arms, but he stood up instead. “I need to be mad at you, John. I need to be upset. You can’t just work your John Lennon magic and make everything disappear.” Paul said as he pulled a pair of pyjama pants on and one of my shirts, which hung off of him making it obvious how skinny he had been. I nodded and nervously picked at my finger nails.

“You can yell at me, if you want.” I told him. He began pacing back and forth. “Just let me get this shit off me chest, John…” Paul said as he puffed angrily on his cigarette.

“I hate the way you look at Stu, John - I fucking hate it. I hate the way Stu goes out of his way to make sure I’m jealous, and the fuckin’ worst part about that is you’re too fuckin’ wrapped up in whatever the fuck Stuart is doing to even realize your boyfriend is upset! Fuckin’ FUCK!” Paul blurted out almost all at once, already lighting a second cigarette. I didn’t speak, I just looked at him with shame in my eyes. “I’m not fuckin’ happy John, not with him here. But I can’t very well tell you to get rid of him, because he’s yer best fuckin’ friend. It’d be like you telling me to get rid of Geo.” He said as he sat down on the chair across the room. “I just hate it all. If you love Stuart, you’ll tell me now so that I can bloody go home and get away from you.” Paul said, choking up as he said the last few words.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Paul, can I talk now?” I asked, hesitantly. He nodded as he wiped a tear off his cheek. “I don’t love Stu. Not the way I love you. But you’re right, he is me best mate and I don’t want to send him away after it took all kinds of convincing to get him to come in the first place.” I explained as I walked over to Paul, kneeling down between his legs and resting my hands on his thighs. “I had no idea you felt this way, and I’m sorry I let it come to this.” I apologized quietly and kissed his knee. He wouldn’t look at me, instead he focused on his cigarette and looked over toward the window, still with tears rolling silently down his cheeks. “I can’t believe I let this happen to you again..” I whispered as I stood up and kissed his cuts and bruises.

“I’ll be fine, John.” Paul said blandly as he put out his cigarette. I decided to take charge. I stood up and scooped Paul up into my arms bridal style. “What the hell John?” He said, trying to sound like he still wanted to fight but I felt him sink into me. I sat him down on the bed so he was leaning against the head board. He was finally smiling. “Give me your ring.” I said, trying to sound stern. His smile faded, “What?! Why?” Paul sounded panicked as he took it off and handed it to me. “Are you going to be with Stuart?” Paul’s voice cracked as he asked the daft question, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up in front of me. “No, Paul.” I said softly. “Then what?!” He was getting mad again.

“George told me this morning that he was with a prozzie last night, and they got to talkin’. Told him she’s got a queer brother who just went to Paris t'get married, guess it’s legal there n'all.” I said in a very sweet voice as I knelt down on one knee in front of Paul.

“Paul McCartney, we’ve been on one hell of a bloody rollercoaster ride together but we always come back, the two of us. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I want to do the same for you for the rest of me life… Would you come to Paris with me? Y'know, so we could get married?” I held the same old ring out that I had given him back in Liverpool.

My heart was beating faster than it ever had before. Here I was, 22 years old, asking my 20 year old boyfriend to marry me.

“Oh my god, John, fuckin’ hell, of course I will!” Paul’s face lit up with glee. I slid the ring on his finger and stood up, smiling. “I’m so surprised I could bloody cry, John Lennon!” He hugged me, I could feel his heart thumping in sync against mine. “I love you so much.” I said, before embracing him into a passionate kiss.

“I love you, John. You’re not going to let go of me, are ye?” Paul smiled smugly against my mouth. I placed another gentle kiss on his lips. “Never, m'love.” I smiled against his lips.