#imagine being the Joshua who fucked it up for every Josh after

[jakeyt]

Covet: Chapter 12 (Sneak Peek)

a/n:

hi, friends!

yet again, I deliver a 4,000 word 'sneak peek.' l m f a o.

like I've previously mentioned, the monstrosity that is Chapter 12 was initially part of Chapter 11. buuut due to these two being quite the stubborn pair, the chapters continue on their pattern of being much longer than the I anticipated. hopefully they tone down after chapter 12 comes out, but... there is no telling. lmao.

the chapter count has increased by like 2 (? I think.....) chapters, if you check out the masterlist you'll see that. the ideas just keep on coming on my long drives to work everyday, as I blast the playlist to this silly little story.

plz enjoy the cringe manip of Josh... I couldn't help making it. just had to see him in the booth at Jungle Juice for god knows what reason l o l.

Warnings: (as always: MDNI 18+); vivid recollection of unprotected p in v sex; self doubt; body image issues; sadness; heartache; pregnancy; mentions of infidelity (sry not sry, maya); as always, if i missed anything that is triggering to you, PLEASE lmk!

-🌼🌼🌼- 

Arguably, as you left that yoga class, you felt the most relaxed you had in a long while. 

Your belly was still heavy at your front, but everything else felt so loose. Weightless. It was nice.

Josh had decided afterwards that it was a good plan to get a couple of smoothies. And who were you to argue that? It was even more tempting since he’d offered to buy them.

The drive to and from all of your ventures had been nice. You two had listened to music most of the car ride – enjoying the soul music you’d both bonded over several years ago. 

But, as soon as “You’re All I Need To Get By” came on the shuffle, you quickly reached forward to skip past that one. And, it must have been your lucky day because as soon as that one was out of the way, the other song from that morning on the living room floor was playing. 

"(You Make Me Feel Like) A (motherfucking) Natural Woman", to your lovely surprise. Because why not?

The only songs you’d skipped and, of course, Josh had noticed. 

He’d snorted at you, making you glance in his direction. “What did Miss Aretha do to you?” 

“Nothing,” you shook your head with a lip stuck out. “Just didn’t feel like listening to those songs, I guess.”

I imagine your brother stark naked, inside of me, when I hear those songs, if you must know, you thought with a skip to your heart at the memory. And that’s just not what I need at the moment, Joshua.

And, with absolutely zero surprise, you were back in that damn living room. No point in skipping the songs, it seemed. The gray morning, rain pittering against the windows. The stupid idea you’d had, forever haunting your association with the Queen of Soul.

You’d just sat up on your elbows to watch him as he thumbed through the records, appreciating the view. “You pick and I’ll let you know if I like.”

And, as he’d searched through the albums, you’d just let your mind wander, right along with your eyes. . .

His body was a work of art. Always would be. Your favorite work of art. 

His thighs, ever-muscular, from the way they flexed when he’d move his body with his guitar on stage. 

That perfectly round ass that was undoubtedly gifted to him by the body gods. 

And his broad shoulders – strong to match his equally strong personality.

When he’d turned a bit towards you, you’d been given an image you’d never forget. His eyes, quickly scanning the back of a vinyl. And as he did so, your eyes had instantly found his straining dick. 

And, in the current moment, right next to his goddamned twin brother, you had to cross your damn legs at the thought of Jake’s dick. Fuck everything. Even if you shouldn't, all you wanted was Jacob Kiszka. All. You. Wanted. It was stupid to ever think you could convince yourself out of that particular desire. 

You could still imagine every detail from the morning. His tip, swollen from being pulled mid-sex. Your clit thrummed and twitched in current time at the thought, remembering how he'd still glistened from your dripping center. 

He’d turned to you fully, the Aretha Franklin vinyl in his grip – her Greatest Hits. You’d found his eyes. They were questioning, but you hadn’t been able to focus entirely on his glance. No, you’d looked away from his eyes to admire your most favorite parts of his body. 

His toned pecs and his solid stomach— fuck. They made you fucking weak.

There were truly no words for the way he was built— pecs naturally firm and rounded with lean muscle. 

And his stomach— just a little soft and the perfect finish to it all, complimenting him just right— finishing out his sturdy, powerful stature. 

His aura would always be compelling. He was utterly beautiful, with his sparkling amber-brown eyes, flowing chestnut locks – even longer now than then – and his sharp features. And the way he was built matched so well with how he carried himself. Without even trying, he could control any room he was in. 

(And control you with a simple snap of his fingers.)

He was honestly what all of your dreams were made of.

And, in moments from the past, like the sacred one you were remembering. . . you remember wishing everyday – more than anything – that he was yours. Still wanted him to be yours. You could remember thinking. . . no matter how bad you could be for him, your selfish wants had you constantly feeling pulled towards Jake.

But. . . he wasn’t yours. Not then. Not now. 

And that bitter thought had helped to snap you out of your trance on that simplistic, perfect morning. You'd finally looked at him to answer. 

He was smirking, knowingly. “I love your body, too, Beautiful.”

Your thighs pressed even closer together as you tapped out the beat of the current song on your thighs. A Minnie Riperton song. Just focus on Minnie. Tried to remember the moment you were currently in. . . But you couldn’t. Not yet.

Wait. Minnie. This song. You focused for a second. Was fucking "Memory Lane" playing? O-kay. Your life was truly hilarious. (Meaning, it was, in fact, not hilarious in the slightest.)

You tried to tune her out, rejecting the lyrics that hit far too close to home for your taste. But all that happened when you tuned her out, was Jake repeating the statement about your body. . . You could only hear those words from his mouth on repeat when you squeezed your eyes shut, so tightly.

With a gentle touch, you placed a hand to the bottom of your tummy to hold it. Your body now was nowhere near the same as it had been then. . . 

How the fuck would he talk about your body now? You knew how he felt about some of your newer assets. But. . . how would it feel now to hear him say things like that about your body? During sex? His dick, impossibly hard and leaking for your current, swollen body? Your belly, your bigger breasts? Your fuller thighs. . . Would he look at you the same during sex now? 

Fuck. Why were you even thinking like that?! You were imagining things that were only breaking your heart. . . Getting your mind in a dangerous space it did not need to be in.

Realizing it was slightly safer in your memories, you leaned back against your headrest to feel the rest of the moment.

You’d flushed at the words then. Even going the extra mile to roll your eyes. Tried your best to play off the way his words made your heart flutter. Ridiculous attempt. With a peek briefly at the record, you nodded at the choice. “Aretha is always a yes.”

“Agreed.”

He’d turned to put it on the Crosley, and as soon as the needle hummed against the record, making its wonderful crackling sound, you knew he’d made the right choice. This record was something else.

And now, the Greatest Hits vinyl held your heart in ways you could’ve never imagined on that rainy morning.

You could remember how it felt to watch him – the intoxicating combination of seeing him walk back to you, with some of the most incredible music backing him. . . Shit. (If you know, you fucking know.)

“I hope you don’t mind. I skipped past the first few,” he’d said as he came back to you, falling to his knees beside you. So near to you and ready to resume sex with you. There'd been no constraints. No girlfriends. No ugly voice in the back of your head telling you how terrible you were for him. Things were still perfect. 

You’d smiled up at him. “Perfectly fine. This is the best song on the entire record anyway.” 

“I think so, too,” he said, eyes lifting with a grin.

God. You felt tears climbing your throat, right next to Josh, as you thought of his sweet face. The smile on his lips that could have cured every single piece of trauma ever. . . If you would have let it. He was so goddamn perfect. And you were. . . well. . . you.

Then, he’d come back to you. Laid on his back for you as you angled your body to straddle him, sinking onto him.

The look on his face when you fucked him was one of your favorite sights. He’d always watched you so closely. . .whether it be your face, your breasts, your ass, or your center that wrapped around him, so tight. He’d scrunch his brows and let his mouth open a bit with certain movements of your hips, and bite his lip at other times. . . 

But, in moments like this one, with one hand holding your face while the other gripped your hip, a small, close-mouthed smile on his soft, plush lips. . . His emotion-filled eyes, boring into yours . . .

Your world had always tipped slightly on its axis when he’d do shit like that. Moments like the one from many mornings ago. . . Those moments had never failed to make a whole lot of gray in what should have been a strictly black and white situation. 

And, as you’d listened to the soulful voice flowing quietly from the record player, your thoughts drifted further. . .

When my soul was in the lost and found,

You came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me,

Till your kiss helped me name it.

The song had perfectly summed up how you felt about this man. The same man who had once been the bane of your existence, was now a light on your darkest days. 

And, in the present time. . . the father of your baby. Fuck.

As you’d glanced down to watch him, his hips had begun to move on their own – never failing to make you feel complete and right. . . You truly couldn’t imagine your life without him. 

Having him around made you feel . . . whole. Without even knowing or trying, he’d helped you find missing pieces to your puzzle. Found hidden pieces of your soul that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Some good pieces. Some bad pieces. But all necessary pieces of you. Pieces you’d forgotten even existed. And by simply being near you, he made you feel authentic in a way you’d never felt with another man. 

As you’d continued riding him, you had leaned down on your forearms to get close to his face. His handsome, handsome face. You’d given him a long kiss. A kiss that you’d hoped, then, was able to say thank you. . . Because, truly, you were so grateful for him. 

But when you’d separated your lips from his and pressed your perspired forehead to his own, you’d found the deep pools of his eyes that held so much of your world in them. And you’d known then that you had to say the words out loud.

“Thank you,” you’d whispered, hoping he’d understand as new tears had clouded your vision. Your hips were moving languidly at the perfect pace, matching the slow rocking of his hips. You’d been holding onto him, keeping rhythm with the beautiful, now-special song.

He’d held your gaze for more than a few moments, a secret smile forming in his eyes as he spoke. “Thank you.”

You’d studied him seriously, the feeling in his eyes seeming to match the longing in your heart. Both of you had stayed there for a minute, taking the other in. 

You’d kissed him once more. And, rather than continuing the conversation, you’d focused on finding a release for you both. 

That hadn’t even been “You’re All I Need To Get By”. . . Not yet. No, that song, that blissful melody from your memory, was “You Make Me Feel (Like A Natural Woman)”. . . And that he did – he made you feel like the melodies of that song. Always would. He was every lyric of that song, sealed forever in your heart that way.

But the next song. . . When you’d fallen apart on top of him. And him, just barely pulling out in time, to finish onto your tummy. . . All while the song had been surrounding you, enveloping your senses. . .

“Y/n!” Josh’s voice called to you from the current moment, his fingers making you jump a bit, your eyes hurriedly blinking open as he continued to snap in front of your face. “Earth to y/n!”

Fuck. How were you going to explain getting lost like that? Thankfully, your eyes had been closed almost the entire time. You could just say you’d been sleeping. 

“I was just sleeping, Josh,” you lamely explained, looking to your right, hoping you were already at the cafe.

And, for once, fate had worked in your favor, as he’d just parallel parked at Jungle Juice. Perfect timing. Avoid avoid avoid.

You hadn’t missed the curious look in his eye after your barely-there explanation or the way he’d opened his mouth to begin to question you. But as soon as he’d parked, you were hopping out of that Jetta. 

-🌼🌼🌼-

You were just sitting down, pomegranate smoothie in hand, at a table inside. Josh was still at the counter, you having instantly put distance between the two of you. As you sat, your mind briefly drifted to the mundane task of taking a seat. You noticed how much easier than normal it was to simply sit comfortably, thanks to the yoga. 

Soon, Josh was sitting down across from you. And, after he took one tiny drink of his smoothie, he pushed it ahead of him with a huff. His fluffy mess of curls flowed around his head with the noise. 

There should’ve been no surprise when he didn’t drop what you'd started in the car. His ass had practically just touched his booth bench when he was asking you. “What the fuck is it with those songs?”

“What?” You crinkled your brow at that. He hadn’t ever been around before for you to skip past those songs. For all he knew, you’d literally fallen asleep after the relaxing yoga class. “Just didn’t feel like hearing them today. And I got tire–.”

“Jake gets weird when they come on, too. . .,” he interrupted with a raised brow, trailing off as if lost in thought while addressing you. “Specifically “You’re All I Need”,” he mumbled, sort of to himself as he looked down at the table. Then his eyes flashed back to yours. “And, no. You were not sleeping. Faker.”

Damn. Yeah, there was no explaining your way out of this one. Were you really going to have to be honest with him? It did not feel like the time – for more reasons than one. But you decided you’d say what you could. . . Maybe you could make him uncomfortable enough to move on. . .

“Jake and I just had some incredible sex to those songs,” you began, eyes not once leaving his. He held firm, even after that blatant statement. Okay. Second try. But you had to look down for this part, too embarrassed to look at Josh as you said it. “Got really close to making the baby that morning rather than the night we got high. He pulled out just in time to aim it on my bell–.”

“Noooo thanks,” the curly-headed twin stopped you, holding up a hand with his lips turned down. “That’s enough. Truly. Thank you, I now know what I need to know.”

You raised a brow, a tiny smirk on your lips as a laugh squeaked past your lips. “Joshua. You didn’t need to know any of that.”

“Well. . . maybe you’re right,” he surmised with another small sip from his green drink. 

“I usually am,” you answered, relieved that he’d gotten all he wanted – no, needed – to know. “So, how are things going with–?” “Also, you are not ‘usually right’, my dear,” he corrected you, air quotes and all. His nose twitched with his own grin as he watched you narrow your eyes in his direction. “I can tell you that right now. Your little speech from last night. . . You and Jake both. Fuck,” he snorted before taking another drink. He covered his mouth with a silent laugh before smoothing the hand down the side of his face. “Both of you are the worst liars to ever live.”

The breath you should’ve been breathing got stuck in your lungs. Where was he going with this? This had the potential to be an extremely embarrassing and awkward conversation you weren’t in the headspace to have. “What are you talking about, Josh?” 

“You and my twin, claiming you were ‘nothing’,” he began, lips quirked with a close-lipped grin and the air quotes coming out to play again with the word you’d both used to describe your situationship. “That all your relationship was was one night of meaningless sex that resulted in my niece or nephew.”

Niece, you silently added. You suddenly wanted to tell him really badly. But you would let Jake do that. Made a note to tell him he could do that whenever he was ready. 

“I just find it funny,” he finished, his mouth still curved into a smirk. “I’m pretty sure we all knew that you were lying out of your asses. Well. . . except for that Theo guy. He’s kind of a moron.”

How did you even respond to this? Did you lie? Confide? Half-heartedly agree? Completely avoid it and tell him you didn’t want to discuss it? Fuck if you knew. 

So, you just began talking. 

“How are you so confident in this assumption that we were lying about it being nothing?” You quizzed him, taking a drink to hide a little. “You didn’t even know that we were doing it while we were doing it. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you didn’t know because it was nothing more than sex?”

“Oh, y/n. How in the world can you begin to question my empathic tendencies? You know I’d sensed the difference in Jake,” he reminded you, noting back to your day of the first OB appointment. “And, the more I thought back on it, I remember there being a rise in your spirits during the summertime as well. . . Only towards the end of it did you get all mopey. When, I can only assume, you started doubting yourself and Jacob. Enough so that Jake wanted to host a night to raise your spirits. . .,” he trailed off, taking another drink before tapping a finger to his chin, sitting the cup on the table.

“But, yes. You were nothing, mhm,” he continued with a sardonic nod, closing his eyes briefly with a mischievous grin before he was looking at you again. “You both were noticeably different – good different. And he noticed every shift in your mood. . . You got emotional way back on the day of that first ultrasound when I brought up his relationship with Maya. . . Um, what else? Oh! The motherfucker takes you to therapy! Of course he does, because you feel safe with him. Big fucking deal, by the way. And, yes, I know all of this, y/n – I’m watchful. Don’t you argue that fact with me,” he pointed at you with a raised brow and a slight smile. “. . .But. You were nothing. Okay.”

Well. “I–.”

“And then last night,” Josh giggled, taking a sip of his smoothie before placing his hands on the table in excitement. “Jake had his hands up your shorts, touching you. . . like that in front of everyone–.” 

“It was a card he was playing, Jo–.”

“. . .Whispering in your ear, your fuckin’ body reacting to it. His bodily reaction to it – I mean, with an unfortunate glance downwards, anyone was privy to that situation in his pants,” he outwardly cringed, lips turned down as he shook his head at the thought. He’d been that noticeably hard? Fuck. “And then, going to the bathroom to relieve himself with everyone in the living room!” Josh couldn’t stop his wail of a laugh at the end of the last line, attracting multiple eyes from fellow customers at the sound. 

“Josh, be quiet–,” you tried to intervene, once again getting stopped with his rambling.

“Well, not everyone, per se. I wish Elsie could have experienced that shit,” he shook his head again, but this time with a laugh as if remembering a fond memory. “She would have gotten a kick out of the free porn!”

Free PORN?! Josh.

“Joshua!” You were stunned, his voice still a higher decibel than it should have been for a proper establishment like Jungle Juice. Voice hushed, you leaned towards him. “Please quiet the fuck down.”

He observed your expression, still cackling. But soon, it calmed down. Calmed down enough to where he was still letting out little huffs of laughter, but his eyes bulged a bit. He seemed to remember at that very moment that it wasn’t just the two of you. Face set straighter than before, he turned, looking around to hastily address the people near you with an apology. 

Meanwhile, your cheeks were positively burning at everything he’d said. How in the hell did you even begin to address that shit? And why was it always on you and never Jake? 

When he was facing you again, you decided to try that line. Just to gain your bearings. “Are you going to quiz Jake like this? Or is it only the emotional pregnant lady who’s getting the heat?”

“Oh, he got it first. I actually crashed his and Maya’s morning this morning,” he replied, waving it off. Your stomach dropped at the thought of them in bed together, like you knew it shouldn’t. “Well. . . if I can even phrase it as such. Maya was getting completely ignored by him. He’d separated himself as much as possible from her, his body was practically pushed against the wall. I know she noticed how far detached he was, though. . . She was looking his way when I barged in, a sad look on her face and everything. Poor thing. Didn’t take much for me to make her leave.”

The way you snorted at that was unstoppable. He what? “Josh! You made her leave?”

“Well, again – if I can even phrase it like that,” he shrugged, one hand waving nonchalantly in the air with a roll of his eyes. “Like I said, she was already awake when I went in. I think she’d just woken up to notice he’d pulled totally away from her,” he grit his teeth, baring them with a hiss as he shook his head. “So it didn’t take much more than me asking if I could please talk to my brother for her to leave. She was already kind of pissy, so she readily agreed. I’m sure she thought I was going to confront him about blatantly cheating on her in front of us all.”

Blatantly cheating. Harsh words. True words. You felt guilty at them. Because, yes, you’d completely joined in on Jake’s antics – helped him be unfaithful to her. To be fair, you couldn’t have stopped yourself if you tried. . . Hence your new determination to be nothing more than a friend. 

As much as it sucked.

“Did you? Confront him?” Was all you could croak out. 

“I did confront him about it, yes,” he nodded assuredly, his tone stern. Damn. Was he actually super pissed? Why had he been all giggly if he was so angry? 

So, you started apologizing. You felt really bad and you didn’t know what else to do. 

“I’m sorry, Josh. I don’t know what came over me. I just couldn’t–.”

“Help yourself?” 

You blinked with a nervous gulp. “Yes. I couldn’t help myself.”

“Well, of course not,” he replied, intonation light once again. You blinked again, this time in shock at the change in attitude. He continued before you could question it. “He couldn’t either, it seemed. There was no other reason for him to act so rashly in front of all of us.”

It was silent for a few seconds, your brain blanking on what to even respond to that. You were curious what he’d said to Jake. What Jake had responded. But you were scared to ask – didn’t want to make even more of an ass out of yourself by prying. 

Thankfully, Josh kept on before you could consider it any longer. “So, I told him this morning,” Yes! He was going to divulge. You tried not to look too interested. He cleared his throat, his eyes finding yours seriously, your stomach dropping at what he could have said. “I told him that if he’s going to do that shit, he needs to keep it out of Maya’s sight. Because, while I don’t condone cheating, I do condone my brother being happy. And hopefully, she’ll be out of the picture soon anyway, so the cheating won’t even have to be a thought. Keeping it out of her sight and all - won’t be an issue.”

Stunned. You were stunned. What the fuck?! Josh had told him what?!

You couldn’t stop staring at him. Your eyes, wide and expression shocked. The way your mouth hung open would have been more embarrassing had you been more aware of how much it gaped. But before you could give it much more thought, you were talking without thinking. 

“Excuse me?” You responded, rather loudly, you must say. "You told him what?!"

“Y/n!” Josh laughed, eyes bugged, pointing towards you before waving his hands theatrically around the restaurant. “‘Please quiet the fuck down.’”

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: I, personally, value Josh's opinions on the matter...... what about you? ;)

also. free porn. l m a o.

Taglist:

@jakekiszkapunchmeintheface, @jaketlover, @ohgodthefeeling-gvf, @starcatcher-jake, @anythingforjtk, @lucimoo, @indigostreakmorgan, @gretavanbear, @katelynn-gvf, @alwaysonthemend

@aintthatapity, @bowievanfleet, @fwzco, @takenbythemadness, @cherry-icecreamsmile, @laneygvf @hi-hi-hello11, @sinarainbows, @jakesbarbarian, @mybussyinchrist, @becinabubblegvf, @heckingfrick, @danigvf, @pinkandsleepy1934, @derrangeddumpsterfire, @klarxtr, @josh-iamyour-mama, @abby-gvf, @cassyface, @gretavansabotage, @sacredtheslay, @alienobsever, @hollyco, @age0fwagner, @raceb14, @stardustcatcher, @styles-canvas, @ladywhimsymoon, @earthgrlsreasy, @peaceloveunitygvf

@torniturntomyarrow, @joshsbonnet, @llrosee, @starshine-gvf, @itsafullmoon, @gvfmarge, @creadliz98, @mackalah, @lek-gvf, @carlyfleet, @profitofthedune, @mefiorini, @welllauragvf, @highway-tuna, @dont-go-home-without-me @sarah-gvf01, @polemicandcontent, @ageofbajabule, @texas-bbq-pringles

[dilfgmancoolatta]

can yuo write angsty freelatta........-benryphobic

@benryphobic

Gordon looks down at the half-eaten pizza, his appetite almost completely gone. He was initially suspicious of it- as much as he trusted Tommy, he had no idea what Mr. Coolatta’s intentions were. But after seeing everyone else dig in (well, everyone who had made it out of the boss battle alive), he let himself give in. It was horrible, but horrible in the way that most Chuck E. Cheese pizza generally is. Mr. Coolatta pulled out all the stops for this one, huh?

He sighs, gently nudging his paper plate away. He’s not really sure what to do. He doubts Mr. Coolatta would react well to being asked when they could leave- he seems really protective of his son.

Gordon decides to get some fresh air. Quietly pushing in his chair, he sneaks away from the group, Mr. Coolatta and Bubby seemingly distracting by a story Dr. Coomer was telling from the Engineering department.

He breathes a sigh of relief once the door closes behind him. He looks up at the sky as he slides down the wall. It’s strikingly beautiful, yet chilling. It’s a sky Gordon’s never seen before, with a large spiral galaxy, that definitely wasn’t the Milky Way, taking up much of it. Planets upon planets and stars upon stars that Gordon couldn’t recognize.

“That’s Andromeda o- up there, by the way.”

Gordon jolts, feeling his heart rate spike, before laughing. “Tommy, don’t scare me like that, man. Kinda still on edge.”

“Oh-” Tommy covers his mouth. “I’m sorry, Mr. Freeman, I thought you knew I was out here.”

Gordon waves him off. “It’s not a big deal. Just- Thought I should let you know.” Tommy nods. “Andromeda’s a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Mmhm! I told my dad once that Andromeda w- is my favorite galaxy. And after that, he always made sure Andromeda was the biggest thing in the night sky in his pocket dimensions.”

“That’s… honestly pretty sweet.”

Tommy nods, sitting down next to Gordon. “My Dad’s a good guy, even if he is pretty weird sometimes. Though I guess I can’t talk.”

“I don’t think you’re weird, Tommy.”

Tommy looks at him in disbelief.

“Mr. Freeman, I wouldn’t be so sure-”

“Listen, we’ve got a lab grown human, a man who’s been cloned, like, 1000 times, and then there’s you. I don’t think the identity of your dad makes you weird.”

Tommy looks like he wants to say something, but seemingly decides against it. Instead, he decides on a simple “Thank you.”

The two sit in silence for a few moments, staring up into the night sky.

“Did something happen at the party?” Tommy asks. “I hope my dad wasn’t being weird about the Chuck E. Cheese debate-thing.”

Gordon shakes his head. “No, I just needed some fresh air. Gordon sensory overload time was coming up, I could feel it. Wasn’t that hungry either.”

Tommy nods. “I understand. That… happens to me too. The only reason I could handle the arcade inside is because my dad makes the machines quieter-” He frowns and scrunches his nose. “But you don’t want to hear about all that.” He waves him off.

And there it is.

It’s a pattern Gordon’s noticed throughout their time in Black Mesa. Every time Tommy seemed like he was about to express any negative emotion, he’d change the subject and say something about Gordon not wanting to hear it.

So he takes a chance.

“But what if I do want to hear it?”

That wasn’t the answer Tommy seemed to be expecting.

“I mean- there’s not much more to it. It’s just me not e- liking loud noises. Nothing all that interesting.”

“It’s not about it being interesting, Tommy. You don’t have to dismiss your own feelings.” Tommy looks at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an unsure look. “You’ve been, like, my emotional rock throughout Black Mesa. You’ve gotta let me return the favor.”

“I d- really don’t want you to think any less of me.”

“Why would I?”

Tommy looks away from Gordon. “I’ve learned from experience, Mr. Freeman. There isn’t r- any way for someone like me to be upset without being treated like a child throwing a tantrum. And then they talk about you like you’re not even in the room-”

Oh.

Unfortunately, the experience is all-too-familiar to Gordon.

“I’ve gotten the same shit- it’s awful.”

“You... have? I never thought that of you- I mean, anyone in your situation might- would be a little on edge.”

“I mean, even before the Black Mesa incident. People would either use kiddie gloves around me or flat out tell me I was overreacting whenever I was slightly upset. So I do somewhat get it, and you don’t need to expect anything like that from me.”

Tommy nods, a small smile beginning to form. It’s a very nice smile- No, Gordon, now is not the time for gay thoughts.

“And I know I shouldn’t have let them win, and I really did try to not give in, but it just got so ti- exhausting going to work everyday with people who saw you as an overgrown child.” Tommy brings his knees to his chest and rests his head on them.

“I mean, I don’t think you ‘should’ have done anything in that situation.” Gordon shrugs. “I don’t think making a statement is worth more than making things bearable for you. It’s not your job to ‘show them who’s boss’.”

“Mm,” Tommy hums, taking his right arm off of his legs and putting it in between them. “It just doesn’t sit right with me that I ba- essentially taught them that that behavior works.”

Gordon gives his hand a comforting squeeze. “You didn’t teach them anything. They were shitty people to begin with, and even if you refused to ‘give in’, I doubt they would’ve changed their minds. You just would’ve been even more miserable.” He feels Tommy shift his hand so their fingers are intertwined. Don’t blush, don’t blush, don’t blush- “If you don’t mind me asking, couldn’t you have told your dad about it? He doesn’t seem like the type to let that slide.”

Tommy shakes his head. “He’s not, but…” he trails off. “Listen, my dads a go- great guy. If I had told him about how I was being treated at work he probably would’ve… either got them fired, at the very least, or have locked them in a void for who knows how long to ‘teach them a lesson’.” Gordon can’t tell if that’s a joke or not- from what little he knows about Mr. Coolatta, it probably isn’t. “But I’m a 37 year old man. My dad wants to protect me from the world, and I don’t really blame him for that, but I need to fight my own battles. I’m not going to be the kind of person that calls their dad at the first sign of danger.”

Gordon nods, brushing his thumb across Tommy’s hand. He understands where Tommy’s coming from. As a father himself, it’s been very hard to ignore his immediate impulse to protect Joshua from anything that could potentially harm him. He can’t imagine what it’ll be like a few years from now when there are dangers Gordon couldn’t protect Josh from even if he did try. “I can’t blame you for that. But I hope that line of logic hasn’t lead to you refusing to ask anyone else for help.”

“Well…”

“Tommy.”

“I’m gonna start trying to change that behavior, I swear!” Tommy laughs, doing an ‘x’ sign over his heart.

“Besides, considering the whole Resonance Cascade thing, I doubt your shitty ex-coworkers will be able to be shitty to anyone else.”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head. “You’re right about that, Mr. Freeman-”

“You can call me Gordon, you know.”

“I- Are you sure?”

“I think, after everything we’ve been through together, we’re well past the awkward coworkers stage of friendship.”

“I mean, if you’re sure about that… Gordon.” Never before had hearing his name filled him with more joy. “But… I don’t know. It’s st- silly, but I still feel bad that they died? Even though they were awful to me.”

Gordon shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s silly at all, man. Feelings are really fucking complicated- Not to mention you’re probably not mourning them specifically, just the fact that people died. You’ve got a big heart, there’s nothing silly or stupid about it.”

“You do too, M- Gordon. You’re a very kind person.”

They stare at each other for a few moments, both of them red as a beet.

“I think…” Gordon gulps, hoping how flustered he is isn’t that obvious. “I think I’m ready to go back inside.”

Tommy nods, standing up and pulling Gordon up with him. They both turn their heads to look inside the Chuck E. Cheese, seeing Mr. Coolatta somehow playing a perfect game of Skee-ball while Dr. Coomer and Bubby cheer on. Gordon looks at their hands, still intertwined, then back up to Tommy.

“C’mon, before the pizza gets cold.” Gordon opens the door with his shoulder, grinning at Tommy.

Tommy follows him in, and the Birthday Party At The End of the World continues on.

[gamerwoo]

[Tales from the Pack] Chan: Homewrecker (Part Four)

Characters: Chan x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, angst, mention of attempted suicide, mentions of abuse, a tiny bit of fluff at the end

Word count: 2,410

Summary: Chan caught your attention as soon as your eyes met across the market. Something about him drew you to him, and you knew you were meant to be. However, you were already taken and arranged to be married on your next birthday, so you could never be together.

Previous | Next | Homewrecker Masterlist

“No,” Soonyoung stated.

Chan gave the alpha an incredulous look, “What do you mean ‘no’?”

“She’s engaged to the mayor’s son, Chan,” Soonyoung explained, rubbing his temples as he tried to figure out how to go about all this. “We can’t kidnap her, the entire town will be out hunting us. That fucking twerp already has hunters out in the woods every goddamn night.”

“Seungcheol would say--”

“Well I’m your original alpha; your real alpha,” Soonyoung snapped before the younger wolf could even finish his sentence. “Before we found them, I was the one who watched out for you.”

“Jihoon and Seungcheol are my alphas now too,” he stated. “I’d rather listen to them if they tell me I can save _____.”

“Ah, so you have selective obedience now? Fantastic. Well, if you get yourself arrested or tortured or murdered, you’ll know why.”

“I’d do any of that if it meant saving _____ from Donghae!”

Soonyoung sighed deeply, letting his head drop against the kitchen table, “Chan, you didn’t even tell her she’s your mate. You can’t just assume she’d want to stay with you.”

Chan frowned, getting more and more angry with the alpha by the second, “What do you know? You’ve never even had a mate!”

“You’re right, Chan!” Soonyoung stated, slamming his palms down on the smooth surface as he lifted his head up and smiled angrily at Chan. “You are absolutely right. I wish I had one so I wasn’t going out every other night just trying to find my mate, but we don’t always get what we want, do we? Ask Joshua about it, he knows better than anybody. In fact, if you act impulsively, _____ is going to end up like Lilly, too!”

Chan’s mouth closed, his jaw set as his eyes darted to the floor. He knew Soonyoung was right, and he also knew he shouldn’t have said what he said. He didn’t realize the alpha was so lonely and that was why he slept around. He thought maybe he just had a really high sex drive or something, honestly.

“Soonyoung, I’m--”

“I understand your frustration, Chan,” Soonyoung said, his voice much calmer now. “I know you want to protect her, but we need to wait until we have a solid plan. Especially with that tracker on her, we can’t do anything.”

“Her birthday in two weeks,” Chan reported, glancing up to look at the alpha. “Do you think we’ll have a plan by then?”

“Absolutely,” he nodded. “We’ll just need help.”

“Help?” Jia spoke up as she entered the kitchen, one arm hooked through Minghao’s while her other held her cane. “Help with what?”

“Chan’s mate is in a bit of trouble, and we need to get her out in two weeks time,” Soonyoung explained, giving a quick synopsis of the situation. “The problem is she’s engaged to the son of an important man in town, and she’s being tracked.”

“Tracked?” Minghao repeated, settling his mate down in a chair. “Tracked by who?”

“No, they…” Chan trailed off, not even wanting to think about what Donghae did to you.

“Her asshole fiancé put a tracker in her,” Soonyoung spoke up in place of the upset pup. “We need to get her out without anybody knowing.”

Minghao sucked in a sharp breath, “Ouch…”

“We’ll definitely need the assistance of Shua at the very least,” Soonyoung said, already trying to think of a plan. “I don’t know how he’ll feel going into town, though. After Lilly, he doesn’t like going unless he absolutely has to.”

“If it’s to help somebody, I think he’ll do it,” Jeonghan shrugged with a nod. “Especially if it’s to help a mate.”

“Who’s Lilly?” Eunjin wondered, suddenly appearing in the doorway to the kitchen.

The banshee was almost like a ghost, nobody even hearing her walk over or knowing she was listening, but she just appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Although, it was sometimes funny because she’d even catch the werewolves off guard and make them jump.

Soonyoung looked at Minghao, then Chan, then his eyes flashed up at the ceiling, knowing Joshua could probably hear them, “Ah…story for a different time. Is anybody hungry? I can make breakfast.”

“Everybody who can remotely cook is asleep,” Minghao pointed out. 

“Eh, it’s fine,” the alpha waved the concern away as he stood up from his seat. “Jia, how’d you sleep last night? Anything interesting happen?”

The blind girl let out a soft sigh, resting her chin on her palm, “Wonwoo had another nightmare, and Junhui had his bird dream again.”

“…Bird dream?” Chan repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“Junhui has a reoccurring nightmare about a giant bird trying to feed him to its young,” Minghao explained, holding back a laugh. “Now he’s terrified of birds.”

“There’s also Josh’s dreams about Lilly,” Chan noted. “She says he dreams about Lilly a lot.”

“Seriously, who is Lilly?” Seungkwan’s mate pushed, wanting to know about the girl she’d never heard about. “You don’t have to tell me everything, I just want to know who she is. I have...a...feeling.”

“Feeling?” Jia repeated curiously, eyes darting over to where she’d heard Eunjin’s soft voice.

Soonyoung shrugged, “Eunjin’s part of the pack now. Might as well tell her.”

Minghao let out a deep sigh, running his slender fingers through his hair as he sat down beside his mate, “Lilly was Joshua’s mate.”

“Was?”

“She…passed away,” Chan replied awkwardly. “Joshua doesn’t like anybody talking about it, but that’s basically all you need to know.”

“Don’t werewolves die without their mate?” she wondered, settling in a chair and curling her knees to her chest.

“If their mate dies, a werewolf has another chance to find another mate. The heartbreak, though…” Minghao trailed off, remembering how awful it was to see Joshua that way.

“It’s difficult to live through,” Soonyoung continued where his brother had left off. “It makes you depressed as hell, but it won’t kill you like being denied will. I can’t even tell you how many times Joshua tried to kill himself because of it. The pain is too much to deal with.”

As the older wolves spoke, Chan just listened and thought about what Soonyoung had said. If Chan did anything wrong, you could end up like Lilly. Just imagining anything like that happening to you made his inner wolf whine softly. But the two werewolves just chalked it up to him being upset over their dead sister.

“I think that’s enough about her for now,” Soonyoung decided after hearing Chan’s whimper. “Back to breakfast. You’re all growing boys and girls.”

Chan just rolled eyes, trying to get out of the negative headspace, “Soonyoung, we’re all adults.”

Soonyoung turned around, pointing at the youngest with the tip of the knife he held in his hand, “No, you and Eunjin are our babies. So sit down and be quiet, pup.”

-

Donghae knew nothing of your meeting with Chan last night -- which you thought you had dreamed, honestly. The only reason you knew it was real was because he had left a note, promising to meet you again tonight. 

Once you managed to get yourself out of bed despite the aches in your body, your mother flashed you a worried look. You knew your family did care about your well-being, but their fear of Donghae’s power outweighed their care for you. Therefore, you felt they didn’t truly care enough about you at all.

Maybe Chan’s promise to get you out of there wouldn’t be so bad. In fact, you trusted the boy much more than anybody else at this point.

“Donghae requested to see you, _____,” your mother told you as she kneaded dough for bread, flour coating her apron, and making patches on her cheeks. “Do you need your father to escort you?”

“No,” you laughed dryly, knowing Donghae would know if you arrived without veering off course anyway, “I’ll be fine.”

“What’s so funny?” she wondered, pausing her actions to give you her full attention.

“Nothing,” you replied, shaking your head. “I’ll be back later.”

You slipped on some shoes before leaving the house, making sure the door was closed behind you before you let out a groan. Why would Donghae want to see you? Hadn’t he done enough? He’d left you alone after he hit you so what made him feel the need to bring you back all of a sudden? You didn’t have any answers he was looking for, so you were basically useless to him.

As you walked to his house, you made sure to avoid the marketplace, knowing he’d get upset if he saw you going through there even if it was just to get to his house faster. Instead, you went around, grumbling unhappily to yourself about how ridiculous he was.

You truly hoped Chan could save you from this life.

Before you could even knock on Donghae’s door, he opened it with a toothy smile that seemed too happy, “Ah, _____! I’ve been expecting you.”

“I know,” you muttered, but he didn’t catch it as he had turned away to walk back into his house. “Is there a reason?”

“Do I need a reason to see my dear fiancée?” he wondered, his voice laced with a charm that would’ve had any girl swooning.

Any girl except the one who knew what he was really like.

“No, I suppose not,” you replied, knowing if you talked back to him, you’d definitely be in for it.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, turning to face you as he held an arm out to you, apparently wanting to take your hand, “I thought I could share something with you. Do you happen to know of Kang Soomin?”

Your brows furrowed as you cautiously took his hand, letting him lead you up the stairs to his office, “I believe so, yes.”

You knew Soomin was a kind girl who lived alone on the very edge of town. She used to live with a kind old woman -- strange, but that gave her charm -- until she unfortunately passed away. You used to see the pretty girl alone in the market, but you hadn’t seen her for a long time. So you were curious as to why Donghae brought her up so suddenly.

Donghae’s house had many stories to it considering his father was very wealthy, so he brought you to one of the windows that faced the direction of Soomin’s cottage. Even with her house being on the edge of town, you could clearly see the large pile of black ash from where you were.

You tried not to show any emotion, your gasp getting caught in your throat.

“She had run off with one of the brothers of your little...friend,” Donghae told you, his voice low and menacing as he stared out at what used to be Soomin’s house. “We had caught her and her mate before, but they escaped. Nobody knows where they went, but I can assure you that they will be found.”

He looked at you, expecting a response. You just nodded, not wanting to anger him more. If he thought you were on their side, he’d have you killed for sure.

“This is what happens to those who hang around with those monsters,” he warned. “It happened to Soomin, and it’ll happen to that pack and their disgusting mates when the hunters find them.”

“Good,” you gulped, unable to tear your eyes away from the ash. You had no idea that was what happened to Soomin, but you hoped she managed to get away safely, and that the pack had been protecting her, but you’d never say that to Donghae. “Werewolves are…bad…”

‘Very convincing, ___,’ you thought to yourself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything awful about Chan.

“Of course they are,” he agreed, giving you a skeptical look. “You’d know better than anybody, wouldn’t you?”

As you finally turned away from the awful view to look at your fiancé, who was an even worse view, all you could think was, ‘I sure do.’

-

As promised, Chan showed up again that night. This time, though, he brought you ice wrapped in cloth; lots and lots of ice in cloth. You were sure you needed ice packs for your cheeks considering how warm they felt when he made you lay down so he could place them on your bruises.

“So,” he began once you were relaxed onto the bed, “we have a plan.”

“Already?” you asked, surprised the pack had managed to come up with a way to save you in one day. “That was…fast.”

“You said you get married two weeks from now,” he stated, kneeling on the floor, and resting his arms on the edge of your bed. “The night before, we’re coming to get you exactly at midnight. It’ll be the morning of your birthday, so we need to get you out of here before the ceremony. We just need the spare time until then to...figure some things out.”

You frowned, “Midnight? How will we manage?”

“We have fantastic eyesight,” he flashed you a cocky grin. “Plus, I’m quite fast. I’ll get you out of here in no time with a little help from my pack.”

“What about the tracker?” you asked slowly, almost forgetting the square chip in your arm.

Now, Chan was frowning, “Well…we’ll have to get it out.”

Your face contorted like you were already uncomfortable, “...How bad will it hurt?”

“We’re cutting open your arm and taking something out of it,” he sighed, not liking the idea of you being in pain. Quickly, he added, “But one of my brothers can heal you! It’ll only hurt for a minute, and then he’ll make it feel better. I promise.”

“I’ll do anything if it means getting out of here,” you admitted, your eyes looking toward the ceiling now. “There’s nothing worse than Donghae.”

“_____,” Chan’s voice was quiet and soft when he spoke to you again, but it grabbed your attention as if he had shouted, “if he ever hit you again…you’d tell me, right?”

“Would you want me to tell you?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

He was silent for a moment, just staring at you, “I just do.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “I’ll tell you.”

He smiled softly, a soft grumble sounding in his chest. He stroked your hair back, changing the subject, and talking with you until you finally fell asleep, listening to the sound of Chan’s voice.

[zyzix]

yknow before the neo trailer got dropped, i had been thinking about how easy it would be to make a twewy/p5 crossover where neku and akechi are partners in the reapers game. but since im never gonna write that take a list of the shit i would have included if i did

-number one favorite thing about the potential of this crossover is akechi and joshua shit talking themselves by shit talking the other. every time it comes up where they give their take on each other something hypocritical as hell gets said. which i find extremely likely, and Fucking Hilarious. also can be the kind of thing where as the story goes along your not sure if its ironic or self-depreciating

-akechi doesnt even get into the reapers game the normal way. josh sees him and goes ‘HM thats weird how did he get here? this isnt really my problem to deal with.’ ~ somehow ~ joker has to convince him itll be interesting to let akechi play.

-idk how but i want ann and shiki to interact. (eri: no!! MY seamstress bff) 

-akechi starts out with his Good Boy Mask for teamwork’s sake because APPARENTLY our HEALTH IS POOLED TOGETHER.

-neku is still just enough of a misanthrope to immediately peg akechi as Fake As Hell, but has grown enough that now HE’S trying to get akechi to like open up and connect and shit. he has no idea what a can of worms it is he’s trying to open

-since things are weird again and neku is dead again he figures that whenever theyre not trying to solve a mission he and akechi should go and try to talk to the composer. After explaining to akechi what the composer Is, akechi thinks. and he goes “so this composer has the final say on who lives and who dies? Hm. kinda fucked up; maybe we should kill him?”

-neku of course is against this plan of action, and Eventually explains that the reason he thinks just talking to the guy would be good is because theyre friends. he thinks. probably.

-A:”How’d you make friends with an urban demigod?” N:“Well it happened when i died the first time” A:“you just told me that he doesnt normally involve himself directly” N:“...ok he killed me” akechi looks into the camera like he’s on the office

-neku keeps beating akechi over the head with The Virtue Of Trying To Connect To People and it gets to the point where he says something and akechi calls him “the power of friendship guy.” neku, with great apprehension, is forced to realize that Oh God I AM the Power of Friendship Guy.

-self indulgent descriptions of the weird ensembles they have to wear to clear walls, and akechi’s particular anger towards it

-one could go a few interesting routes for akechi’s entrance fee, but i’d probably settle on it being joker’s memory of their promise. since he stepped in and all.

-making use of the shop decals (and i hope this is in neo) to talk to shiki and other still living friends.

-akechi’s persona being limited to a pin or phone summon 

-any point where beat and ryuji are both present, one of them gets called “skull” and the other reacts

-yusuke’s opinion on minamimoto’s art either being awe or disgust and no in-between

-actually ann and ryuji would immediately have it out for math bitch

-rhyme gets along really well with all of the velvet room attendants (ok lbr who doesnt rhyme get along with but the adages break the ice)

-honestly rhyme probably gets thru akechi’s thick skull before neku does

-and finally, imagine all the horseshit akechi would have to say about the mission riddles. from smug humble bragging at solving one to utter derision at their logic.

[startwithbrooklyn]

THE GREAT ND REWATCH OF 2021 / OCTOBER 2, 2019 // making the call

saved the last 2 minutes of this ep for tomorrow to keep on track so heres this

-i just realized laura never asked about the drive before she left last ep. wonder if she'll come back in s3 after tiffanys info finally comes into play

-"do you want to tell me why you think he'd be going after ryan?" wonder if carson thinks is joshua suspected the truth or found out about lucy having a baby and now hes all panicked

-"girl what is on your head??" 😂

-"it might help my dad's case" soooo i love how she said this. like. shes framing it so she can relate what she has to do to others. like she has to justify or give some reason for inviting someone else. she could have just said "im going if u want to come" but instead has to draw focus to her problem first, which is the only reason shes extending an invitation, if it relates to her own problems

-i wonder what lucy dying in the water has influenced her in telling nancy to call the agleaca. wonder if the agleaca found her and helped channel her spirit to apparition form. maybe she saw how lucy died "for love" wonder if the agleaca thought she was a fool or not for it. wonder if lucy would be strong enough to fight something like the agleaca, judging by simon probably not. it would have been cool to see a showdown between them or to watch lucy try to protect nancy from the beyond 😌 maybe the agleaca trying to take owen was her trying to give a warning? she was actually trying to "help" a la lucy/george's prediction was correct. sadly, we'll never know

-LOVE bess sitting criss cross on the bartop 😂and love the bess/owen cousins' call 🙏🏻💙

-this convo nancy has w owen at the police station reminds me of the kidnapping ep. when nick tries to help nancy she shoots him down. he tries to reason w her but unsuccessfully. what exactly is owen doing/saying differently? or is this just a reflection of how much nancy actually likes him? im just interested in the contrast. nick and owen both have calm, logical approaches. theyre both honest about wanting to be there for her. maybe the subject matter? in response to gombers warehouse nick was talking about facing old fears, which nancy definitely did do. but since nancy is primordially uninterested in discussing feelings, that was a no go. i think nancy even telling owen she was tracking a biotech ceo was a hugeconcession for her. or was it just because nick was inaccessable sexually but owen had potential? ¿ questions.

-LOVE owen side-eyeing nancy at this hilarity if a convo (and fucking Chad?? lmaoooo he is sostupid enough to fall for this probe)

-"i have to admit, that was kind of fun" / "i cant remember the last time i had this much fun" / "almost as fun as a real fight"

-"i got a D in french" well george if u retake it now you'll get a P instead 🤪

-"theres one more thing" so am i stupid or?? whats the second thing nick and ace have to tell her at the police station? that karen signed the form? bc nancy already figured that out so im confused.

-so karen in the security video is wearing the sweet purple pantsuit from the garden party ep which i checked the dates and yeah its about a month ago from today

-"i know the system favors the privileged" just imagine karen working her way up to detective as a young woman haunted by pain. and then her meeting the drews and nancy and having her remind karen of lucy, her cleverness, her spirit, but not knowing why. it just sucks bc in a male dominated field karen was trying to get justice and do good and then this happens

-"you tore two families apart" nancy's and tiffany's but this quote also applies to lucy's death tearing apart lucy's family (with her mom and josh) and ryan's (d/t not knowing nancy is his)

-UNPOPULAR OPINION: karen/josh - hatefuck- reuniting somehow (how did they reconnect? who called who?) when he gets back in town, come up with a plan, start an affair d/t their shared pain over lucy? then she fucks around with carson? why go there?

-"i loved your mom like a sister" / "i'm just glad my mom's not around to see who you've become" x2 now that we know the truth all these statements from karen especially just get heavier. like what bad luck to bond with two strong women who have to leave you like this (karen is a unique foil to nancy where they both have a connection to kate and lucy each)

-when ace says "i know nancy" thom just has this look on his face like "....oh youre in deep. sigh"

-hannah's disappearances "maybe she has nancys work ethic" in s2 she was shown out and about doing stuff and we know her burns were supernaturally caused but i wonder if hannah herself dabbles in anything else thet keeps her busy 🤔

-"300 pages about men and women get 2 pages in the back" 🙃preach

-i hate how in s2 they all forget this convo of nance literally saying "i cant ask you guys to do this" when they all blame her for every ill that ever happened ever

-THIS BITCH JUST PUTS HER BARE ASS HANDS ON HIS FUCKING OPEN WOUNDS???

-and it's snowing? in october? but only where they are by this part of the ocean?

-wait how does owen know bess sleeps in a van and does nothing about that?

-kissy faces😘😘see owen willing to meet nancy where shes at is soooo important. like him having his secret apartment in the city 👌🏻even tho she rejects him taking her out like he always wants he doesnt mind that he cant. hes not like nick- he doesnt mind being kept quiet (until bess's accidental reveal) his acceptance of her boundary there actually keeps him closer to her

and lastly

-george liking nick is so cute

[ohholyfanfics]

could you please do joshua imagine where the reader goes to visit him but they get into an argument bc he doesn’t pay much attention to her? i love your writing so so much!!❤️

Note by Elle: I’m really liking the whole Joshua being jealous of Tom thing, so I’m just gonna run with that theme for a few requests. I’m so glad you like my writing lovely, sorry for the delay.

First part here: Interviews & Celebrity Crushes

Her face scrunched up, as she looked out the window. The hot sun, glaring back at her as she let out a huff of hair escape her lips. It’s been a little over four days since she arrived and the one thing she wanted seemed impossible. The room smelt like him, and it surely didn’t help that his stuff covered each inch of the bedroom. His cologne lingered as she strolled through the door and into the kitchen.

The small apartment so neatly kept it showed no signs of a living person, that was unless you entered the master bed and bathroom. Her shoes placed neatly in the corner near the front door, as she rested her elbows on the cold counter. Trying her best to recall where he could have possibly gone on his one and only day off. It wasn’t that she needed to know but it would’ve been nice too.

It took so much for him to even convince her to take a couple of days off to be here with him, and now that she was it seemed sorta pointless. The first day there was filled with roaming hands and the clashing of teeth as they fought to get closer and closer. She constantly recalls the feeling of his hands setting a fire wherever they touched, the way his lips worshiped every single inch of her skin, the way his words were so loving and sweet.

“Oh you’re awake.”

She jumped turning to face her boyfriend, his eyebrows pinched as he took her in. Her legs bare, and eyes wide. Her sweet scent filling his senses as his eyes drank her in.

“Um yeah..” she nodded as she turned around fumbling with the k-cup in her hand. He watched as she quickly moved around the kitchen. “Do you want some?”

“Um no thanks..”

She nodded her head as she quickly added a splash of milk and a spoon or two of sugar. The strong smell causing a soft smile to play on her lips.

“Um, are you coming to set today?”

Her eyes snapped to his as she frowned. She looked back down at her phone checking the date, the last time she checked he had the day off. It wasn’t like she had completely and utterly planned a whole lazy day and even did a bit of meal prep last time with some of his favorite foods resting in the fridge.

“I thought you had the day off today.” She mumbled as he chewed on his bottom lip.

“I know but it’s-“

“Let me guess someone just needs you to be there?”

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

She sighed running a hand through her freshly dyed hair. It wasn’t that she was looking for a fight, but she was most definitely stressed and annoyed at this point. She had begged her director for time off, flew halfway across the world to be with her boyfriend who doesn’t seem to want to be around her.

“Nothing Joshua, it’s fine.”

“No it’s not, what’s wrong?”

She knew she shouldn’t have mentioned Tom, but it seemed the moment she did something snapped inside of Joshua. It had been an ongoing issue in their relationship since the moment Joshua found out about Tom’s crush on her. He hated the fact that she was spending days on end with the Brit and it most certainly didn’t do him any good to know that she’d much rather be there where he was, than with him her own boyfriend.

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m just saying a little attention would be nice Josh.”

“I already give you so much attention!” He all but growled out causing her to roll her eyes but stand her ground. There was no way she was backing down now, and she needed time to know that.

“No you don’t Joshua! I’ve been here for four days and the most attention you giving me was when we were in bed fucking!”

“THAT'S NOT TRUE!”

“Of course it’s fucking true, you won’t even spare me a second glance josh. When was the last time you even told me you loved me.”

“I- I told you- shit.”

She nodded her head turning around to head back to the bedroom when he raced after her. His wide with panic as he wrecked his brain at any sort of way out of this situation. The last thing he needed was for her to leave and run back to Tom. She wasn’t Tom’s girl to make happy, he was his and he needed to step up.

“I never- I never meant to ignore you.”

“But you did Joshua, you made me feel like the only reason why you want me here was for a quick fuck.”

“That’s not true! You know that’s not true y/n. Shit do you know how shitty it’s been so far away from you? I hate knowing that I can’t be by your side everyday like before? Seeing all those pictures of you two looking so happy while I’m over here trying my hardest to wrap up this damn movie to be closer to you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me this then?” she mumbled looking up at him. Her eyes welled with tears as he stepped closer to her.

“Because I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Josh, but that’s what I’m here for. I want you to be able to talk to you. Even if it’s something as silly as Tom.”

“So you’re not gonna like going back to him?”

“Well I kinda need to babe, it’s kinda my job..”

“No, I get that..” he breathed as he pulled her closer to him. His hands resting on her lips as she breathed in his scent. “I mean like you’re not gonna leave early to go back.”

“Of course not, baby.” She mumbled, pressing her lips lightly against his. “I’m here for another three days.”

“Let’s make the best of them yeah? I’ll call them and say I’m staying here.”

“You sure?”

“I’m positive.” he mumbled softly brushing his lips against hers. “I gotta make it up to my girl.” 

[baldwin-montclair]

The Unlikely Advocate - Part 4

Just a little backstory to how this little family of a vampire and two witches formed.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Tagged: @sylverdeclermont @christi14 @fanficqueen306 @holamor

———

“You fucking asshole!” Eileen hissed viciously at Baldwin, standing by the projection board and over the heads of his underlings at their desks as time and space seemed to evaporate, judging by the frozen nature of their stares.

The silence was broken when four security personnel caught up with her. Two grabbed her roughly by each arm to escort her from the building.

“Do not fucking touch her!” Baldwin roared at them and without a beat, they dropped their hold.

Despite her own anger and feeling of betrayal, Eileen suddenly realised that her actions were indistinguishable from someone knowingly entering a bull-fighting arena whilst wearing top to toe in red.

“In here!” He called back as he retreated to his office.

Everyone stayed frozen, not entirely sure who he’d been speaking to and much too afraid to be mistaken.

A moment later he reappeared at the office door, his gaze focused on Eileen.

“Miss Percy,” he clarified and regarded his still slightly traumatised team, “everyone else back to work.”

Eileen was more than a little aware of the stares she had prompted from the workers, some fascinated by the person who’d given voice to a sentiment they were too afraid to even think, others like she was walking the last few yards to her place of execution. In reality, if they had any notion of how actually dangerous their ball-buster boss really was they would have run a long time ago.

As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, the door closed behind her and Baldwin retreated to lean against his large mahogany desk, folding his arms and watching her intently.

“You lied to me-“ she started.

“I haven’t Miss Percy, which is why this intrusion is unacceptable-“

“How dare you,” she interrupted again, “come over all high and mighty after what you did.”

“What manner of offence do you imagine I committed ?” He asked with a sigh, his patience visibly dissipating.

“Izzy, you told me everything was fine, that the Congregation had ruled to let me keep custody.”

He stood straighter, his fixed gaze more intense.

“Your mother disputed our ruling, if there is a problem you should take it up with her.”

“My mother allied herself with her precious big brother, leader of the witches in Congregation, she still thinks he was used as a scapegoat for your family to grab more power. I haven’t spoken to her since she disowned my sister for accusing him. Why is she even being taken seriously?”

“I promise that she isn’t,” he stepped forward, “she’s not getting near your niece. The way to ensure that is to conduct a proper hearing.”

“You’re choosing an arbiter, some stranger is taking my niece away from me until that’s done!”

“Standard procedure,” he assured, “I have chosen Diana as her guardian during the proceedings, the Congregation have agreed, I simply have not yet been able to reach her today. Once the arrangements were made I was going to inform you.”

“Can...” she stopped, feeling the righteous fury fade to embarrassment at her failure to imagine this option, “can you do that, make Diana her temporary guardian?”

“I assume she is an acceptable choice given your close friendship?”

Eileen nodded mutely, there was no-one in the world she trusted with Izzy more than Diana and Matthew.

“Then if we are done?” His sniping tone had softened slightly. The regard in his expression belied curiosity rather than anger.

“Yes...of course,” she stammered as he stepped close, leaning past her to open the door, “I’m s-“

“We’ll discuss this another time,” he cut off her apology as he stood over her, his frame intimidating as his dark amber eyes fixed her in place.

The encounter stayed with her long after she’d left his offices. Despite her embarrassment at her rash behaviour, she couldn’t help but feel comforted by his easy authority over the situation. Every decision she’d made of late, with regards to taking over the coven, becoming a mother to her fourteen month old niece, she’d second guessed and panicked over, dealing with her mother had been a source of anxiety but the vampire her family had been so wary of was the one fighting them with her.

Also, she knew she’d be lying if she argued she didn’t find him attractive. Objectively, her friend’s husband, Matthew, was a very attractive man but definitely too much of a friend to really lend him the mysterious gravitas as his step-brother.

Also, in such close proximity, Baldwin did smell incredible, leather and firewood, very masculine aromas and despite herself, she felt drawn to his authoritative energy.

Eileen was not looking forward to the journey to France, not nearly as much as all previous social visits. It was not just because she was going to be without her niece for some time but because she would be met there by the vampire whose office she’d stormed just one week prior.

She loaded the gurgling baby into her chair as the doorbell rang. Hoping it was not a neighbour - as she was already behind in regards to time - she opened the door a crack.

That was all her brother’s needed to push the door open harder, knocking her backwards to the ground, splitting her lip.

Isobel started crying in her car seat, loudly.

“You’re weak, just like that Bishop bitch, if you both had your way, we’d all be under the thumb of the vampires.”

“Joshua, not you too-“ Eileen winced as she stood, looking into the eyes of her younger brother, the baby of the family was now angry and hateful, just like her elder sibling Mark.

“Don’t talk to him,” Mark sneered, “you only talk lies, we won’t let you take another family member away.”

He made to move towards Isobel but Eileen rushed to stand in his way.

“Lies? Like how our uncle, capturing witches and supplying them to a sadistic madman for rape and torture?” She yelled and felt the strike of a hand on her cheek.

“Yes, lies, you misled our dear departed sister with your false accusations, her blood is on your hands.”

“He killed our sister, Knox did, she was the one who figured out he was behind the disappearances. The de Clermont’s suffered just as much at Fuch’s hands, they were not in league with him.”

“You whore,” he grabbed her hair, “has he had you, is that why he’s taken such an interest?”

“Who?”

“Who do you fucking think? Montclair!”

“No.”

“We’ll see,” Mark nodded at Joshua, “she always sucked at keeping her mind protected, hold her.”

Joshua hesitated.

“We were meant to just take the baby, not hurt her.”

“It only hurts if you fight it, you should know that, little brother.”

“Don’t listen to him Josh.”

“Shut up!” Mark shoved her against the wall.

She waited for the sickening thud of her skull striking the hard surface but it didn’t.

Opening her eyes, she realised she was no longer looking into her malice driven brother’s gaze but a concerned Baldwin who had shielded her head with his hand, preventing the injury.

The same could not be said for Mark, lying and groaning amidst a mess of splintered bookcase and it’s contents.

Joshua, frozen in fear up until now moved to go towards him but was stopped by a growl from her saviour before he turned his attention to her.

“I’m going to attend to your sister now,” he spoke to her attackers as he looked her over, “I suggest you not be here when I turn.”

Mark made to rush Baldwin but he was suddenly frozen in place before being threw out the door, Joshua running after him as the door slammed and locked behind them.

Baldwin turned back to Eileen stunned, he had no idea she possessed such power.

He was unable to query it as he found her unconscious but with her breathing steady and her heart rate at the pace it usually was, higher than most but normal for her, he decided it best to just let her rest.

Isobel had quietened down since the commotion and was now staring at Baldwin as he gently placed Eileen on the sofa, her gaze held a silent calculation. Then, her arms outstretched, demanding to be picked up.

“You don’t have the genetic markers for Witch Wind Eileen,” Matthew looked over the blood work he’d conducted shortly after she joined their conventicle, “fire and earth yes but not witch wind.”

“So what does that mean?” She asked.

“We think you leant your power to Isobel, she has the markers and you have a genetic connection through your sister, the earth marker.” Diana explained.

“Not intentionally, I’d never just put it all on her so I can peace out and nap while she’s alone and scared.”

Diana smiled a little and nodded to Rebecca ‘serving’ empty plastic cups of tea to Isobel and Baldwin, the latter with Isobel still at ease on his arm.

“She wasn’t alone, she knew she was safe, as were you.”

“He’s so much better with kids than adults,” Matthew shook his head in bewilderment at the family head, “it’s very strange.”

“She’s very taken with him,” Eileen agreed.

“Obviously runs in the family.” Diana commented to an exasperated eye-roll from her friend.

Eileen flicked through the photo’s on the iPad, those and her daily FaceTime ‘chats’ with her niece being the only thing to keep her sane after a week without her.

She didn’t even have the comfort of familiar surroundings as Baldwin insisted she stay in one of his guest bedrooms, given the hostility of her family.

As grateful as she was for his help, she found the situation increasingly difficult in some ways.

For over a year, her sole focus had been her niece, protecting and taking care of her, her own needs secondary. She didn’t begrudge this, she didn’t even think about it. Now, with nothing to do or focus on, Eileen found herself at a loose end and attracted to her friend’s brother.

That has to be breaking some code.

Still, the memory of Baldwin’s cold and firm touch cradling her head from impacting the wall stayed with her, making her consider just how that same strong hand would feel around her throat as he took her on the long table of the dining room.

A guilty flush made her shake her head involuntarily. Sex was not something she’d been shy about agreeing to in the past but she was out of practice, now she might as well be a nun staring at a well-endowed statue a bit too long.

A shower, she needed a shower.

The hot water helped give some semblance of peace to her mind but did not assuage her desire and she dipped her hand down between her thighs to aid in easing her frustration.

She was close, in a very short span of time, making up for months of neglecting that aspect of herself when the tell-tale sound of her phone sounded in the bedroom.

She hastily ended the shower, dried off and rough towelled her hair before throwing on a silk dressing gown.

The phone had stopped before she reached it.

“Dammit!” She swore.

It came alive again in her hand.

Mother.

She couldn’t tamp down the boiling anger, not enough to stop herself doing the one thing Baldwin ordered her not to do.

Answer the call.

By the time she’d taken the breath needed to cuss the woman out, the phone was in Baldwin’s hand at the far side of the room.

He emphatically hit the hang up button and placed the device on the table.

“So that lock really is just for show,” she accused, gesturing to the door of Baldwin’s guest room.

“Every call from your mother is monitored, you know that, and I did tell you to not to speak to her.”

He was focused on her face, not the sheer dressing gown stuck against her still slightly damp skin. His gaze was deliberate, as though his will was employed in avoiding so much as a glance at her body.

“I did not give you permission to enter.” She went to the door and opened it, “please leave.”

“As you wish,” he shrugged, picking up the phone, “but this comes with me.”

“You can’t,” she stood in front of the door, blocking his exit, “I need that”.

Eileen made a grab for the phone but he managed to hold it just out of reach.

“You cannot be trusted.” He explained.

“I can-“

“Whatever you say to your mother could be used as an argument to give her custody, I’m trying to protect you, and the child.”

“I don’t need your protection!”

“And I really don’t care what you think you need, in this situation I know better.”

“You are an arrogant prick!”

“Indeed I am, and will continue to be so until you accept my guidance in this matter.”

“You’re asking me to trust you?”

“Not at all,” he stepped closer to her, “I’m telling you to do as I say.” His gaze was now fixated on her throbbing jugular vein.

“And if I want your help with my family I have to obey, right?”

“Yes, but more important than that,” he reached up and gently moved a lock of hair obstructing his view of her neck, “you want to.”

“You have no idea what I want.”

“I do, only you’re afraid to ask for it,” he grasped her throat, firmly but not tight enough to hurt, “tell me to stop.”

Her hands clasped his wrist and forearm through instinct but still well aware this would do nothing to save her if his goal was to harm her.

“I’m not afraid of you.” She hissed in defiance.

“That much is clear,” he taunted, lips centimetres from her own, “tell me to stop.”

“No.”

“Then tell me what you need?”

Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his mouth, willing him to close the distance, kiss her, fuck her, bite her even, she wasn’t certain.

“I-“ she hesitated.

Baldwin pressed his lips gently onto hers, not allowing her to pull him in for more as he set the pace, maddeningly slow, before pulling away, causing her to release a whine of frustration.

“I can leave if you want me to, you need only stay silent.”

”No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then you’ll trust me, put yourself in my hands from now until sunrise?”

“S-sunrise?”

It was only six-thirty, sunrise was in at least twelve hours, she had to wonder what he had in mind.

“Can you do that? Relinquish all responsibility and concern and simply obey?”

The seductive abilities of vampires were well known to witches, humans mistakenly attributed hypnotic properties to what they deemed the fictional creatures.

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” he leant forward and placed a kiss on her forehead, “get ready, we have a table booked for dinner in an hour.”

[bellemorte180]

Wanderlust Chapter Seven

Klaus raced through Mystic Falls, ignoring every traffic light along the way. The lights on his SUV were flashing, indicating that the few people in Mystic Falls who were still on the road that they needed to move out of his way. It was a short drive, but it felt as though it was taking an eternity. All he could hear was Caroline’s terrified voice, calling him; stating that someone was there to hurt her.

He drove with one hand; the other was busy dialing Marcel for the twelfth time since leaving the police station. As the other calls had done, his phone rang a few times before clicking to voicemail. Klaus scowled at his partner’s ability to sleep through anything. He always envied that trait in Marcel, but now he wanted nothing more than for Marcel to wake up and answer his phone.

He cursed his partners name as he tossed his mobile phone roughly onto the passenger’s side seat. His nails dug into the steering wheel; all manner of horrors passing through his mind. Having chased serial killers, pedophiles and the worst of mankind for years gave Klaus enough ammunition to torture himself with. He imagined every single way Caroline could be tortured at that very minute and it was clouding his mind.

Caroline was not just any ordinary victim in a case.

Klaus slammed the SUV into park as he pulled up to Caroline’s house, grabbing his phone and shoving it into his pants pocket. Several black SUV’s were surrounding it as well as several other police cars were stationed outside; their lights flashing. He did not see an ambulance which soothed him; but only just slightly. Agents were standing outside the home conversing with officers; all eyes turned to him the moment he slammed his car into park. He saw two of the agents who were stationed to guard her house that evening and a fresh new wave of hot fury coursed through him. Klaus climbed out of the SUV and slammed the driver’s side door behind him. He all but stormed up towards the two agents and by the look on their faces, they knew Klaus was five seconds away from laying into them.

“What the fuck happened?” Klaus hissed out through his teeth. His darted between them as he took in their worried appearance. The younger agent, Joshua Rosza, was relatively new; having only graduated from the academy the year before. He was still on a probationary period and Klaus, who had no opinion on the young man before, decided that he was the most disappointing agent he has ever met; refusing to consider the bias he was feeling at that moment.

Yet, it was agent Thierry Vanchure that Klaus was most infuriated at. Marcel had worked with Vanchure before transferring to the BAU. Marcel spoke highly of him and Klaus had worked with him on occasion. While they were never particularly friendly with one another; Klaus could at least appreciate that Vanchure was a competent agent.

“We heard a crash coming from inside followed by a few gunshots and her dog barking like crazy. We both ran immediately inside to see the back window of Caroline’s kitchen shattered by a rock. The assailant shattered the window before taking off through the neighbor’s yard. I chased after him while Josh called it in. He was fast and darted into the woods before I caught him.”

“Did you get a good look at him?”

“No.” Vanchure shook his head. Klaus cursed out a hiss, hoping that at the very least, Vanchure would have been able to get a good look at the killer. “He had his head covered by a ski mask. He was tall, around your height and lean build. He was fast. Very fast and knew where he was going.”

“Of course, he knew where he was going! This is his home turf. He has the advantage.” Klaus muttered in annoyance. His mind was whirling, wondering what purpose the killer would have to simply shatter Caroline’s window and take off. He obviously knew, if not before, now that Caroline’s home is being guarded. Klaus did not know if that made him feel any better or worse. “How is she?”

“Shaken up. Her mother was staying the night and was out of bed with her gun drawn before I got inside.” Rosza replied, avoiding Klaus’s eye. If Klaus intimidated Rosza then Klaus was convinced that the young man would not make it very far in the FBI. “Her mother is with her now.” Rosza shot Vanchure a concerned look before turning back to Klaus. “There was another note. It was tied to the rock he threw through the window.”

“What?” Klaus snapped; his attention diverted from Caroline’s wellbeing for a moment. Rosza reached into his black suit jacket and pulled out a small bag. Much like the letter Caroline received previously, it was typed on white computer paper. Unlike the previous letter, there were a few tares on the edges, and it was crinkled; most likely from being tied to the rock. Klaus snatched the offending bag and read the note.

Caroline,

I see how you look at him. He will only hurt you. He will take you away from here, from me. I won’t let him. You’re mine. He is not one of us. He is not from out little community. He will take you away. I can’t lose you.

What is it that you see in him? What is it that makes you want to flee from me? Were we not happy? I gave you everything you needed. I gave you a home.

You’ll come home soon.

Your only friend.

“Talk to the neighbors. I want to know everything they saw or heard; if anything.” Klaus all but crumpled the note in his hand; listening to the crinkle of the bag as he did so. He handed the note to Vanchure and stormed up the pathway towards Caroline’s porch. Two officers that Klaus had met since he began working on this case stood on the porch. They nodded to Klaus and allowed him to pass.

Inside he only saw Liz and Caroline. Caroline was curled up into a ball, holding onto Enzo as though he was a life raft, while Liz paced around the living room. Caroline’s eyes followed her mother everywhere she went; as though she wanted to ensure that her mother was still there and that she was not alone. Enzo’s eyes shot up, sensing him first but he did not move or bark; he stayed directly with Caroline.

The moment Klaus stepped into the room, both of the Forbes woman’s eyes snapped to them; but Klaus did not pay Liz much mind. His focus was on Caroline, whose shoulder’s slumped when he came through the door. Klaus looked her over, searching for any sign of injury. Other than red eyes, a tired expression and her body ready for a fight or flight response, Caroline appeared well enough. Not caring about her mother’s opinion, Caroline stood from the armchair she had been resting on and walked over to Klaus; wrapping her arms around his middle; Enzo padding softly behind her.

Klaus immediately felt the tension leave his body. He was still angry and furious, but the feel of her in his arms was enough to quell those emotions; even if it was only temporary. Caroline buried her face into his chest and Klaus held her clothes. She did not cry but he suspected that she had already shed enough tears that evening. Klaus turned to look at Liz, who was already dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, ready to take on the world. Her eyes appeared tired and worn, her hair completely unkept.

However, it was her expression as she watched Caroline hug Klaus. While Liz had never been a member of the FBI, she knew that this was not typical behavior of an agent who was working a case. She said nothing and Klaus was unsure if it was because Caroline did not need her mother nagging at her or if it was because she thought that Klaus would be good for her. Klaus had hoped it was the latter but had a feeling it was the former.

“What happened?” Klaus asked Liz over Caroline’s head; who had gone very still in his arms. Klaus hated the knowledge that Caroline was terrified; she may not be crying at that exact moment, but he knew she had been close to her breaking point earlier.

“I was in the guest room. I’m a light sleeper but I heard something outside. I grabbed my gun and by the time I reached the kitchen. I heard the crash of the window and saw him; his face was covered with a ski mask. I didn’t think, I just fired.” Liz nodded her head and if Klaus squinted, he could see a few faint bullet holes in the wall. “The bastard got away. Don’t even think I hit him.”

Klaus kissed the top of Caroline’s head lightly and pulled away from her. He didn’t even register that he had kissed her hairline until he was across the room, standing in the kitchen looking at the bullet holes in the wall and the glass shards on the ground. The rock that was used to break the window was lying on the small kitchen table that Klaus could tell Caroline never used.

“Did you touch this?” Klaus asked, pointing at the rock. Liz nodded, telling Klaus everything he needed to know. Liz read the letter; meaning Caroline most likely did as well, and that Liz’s prints would most likely be on the rock. “We will have to have it processed. Hopefully he left prints but at this point I doubt it.”

He bent down to look at the broken glass and then back towards the shattered window. He pulled out his phone and took a few pictures of the glass on the wood floor before moving towards the window. He stood and carefully walked over the window. He noticed that the screen on the outside of the house was cut. If the killer wanted to, he could have easily gotten through the window. Liz most likely would have heard him but if Caroline was alone; he could have easily attacked her.

Seeing the cut screen told Klaus a few things. The first was that the killer knew Liz was inside; which only confirmed the suspicion that he was watching Caroline. The second was that he never intended to break in, but instead to show that he could but chose not to. Instead, he wanted them to know that he was there. And the third was the message he literally threw through the window.

He knew that there was something between Klaus and Caroline.

“Mom?” Caroline replied, her arms wrapped around her as though she was holding herself together. She was terrified and Klaus could not blame her in the slightest. He saw her swallow, but she held her head up high. “Your phone is buzzing.”

Both Klaus and Liz turned towards the buzzing phone on the kitchen table. Liz picked it up and scrolled through it; her brow creasing in concern. Klaus stood at the look on her face and walked over to her.

“Is everything alright?”

“Gunshots were heard on the other side of town.” Liz bit her lip. “It was probably just Mr. Wilkerson shooting at cats again.” She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration and annoyance. Klaus could see the pent up energy and anger that she was feeling. She needs to get out and take that frustration out on someone. If she stayed, there was the potential for her to snap at Caroline; and neither of them deserved the confrontation that would blow up because of it.

“Go.” Klaus replied. Both Caroline and Liz looked at him as though he had several heads. “Go take care of whatever it is you’re being summoned for. I highly doubt he is coming back tonight but I’ll stay here with Caroline.” Liz seemed lost in thought, debating on what she should do. “If something happens, you will be my first call. Besides, I’m not leaving either way.”

“Okay. But call me immediately.” Klaus nodded but saw Caroline’s small smile over her mother’s head. Klaus knew that Caroline was getting suffocated by the constant supervision and Klaus could see that she was grateful for that Liz would be taking a few hours away; letting Caroline process.

Liz gathered her badge and bag, heading out the door. Caroline promised to call her if anything happened immediately, but Klaus had a feeling that the killer wouldn’t come back the same night; it just did not fit in the profile that him and Marcel built for him. Regardless, Klaus had every intention of sleeping on her couch.

As Caroline said goodbye to her mother, Klaus took a few more photos of the wall; the one with Liz’s bullet hole in it and a few of the rock that was thrown in the window. He saw Caroline lean against the front door after she snapped it shut behind her mother. After a few second of deep breaths, Caroline walked over to the small closet located near her bedroom door. She pulled out a broom and dustpan. Klaus took the broom from her hand and motioned to her cast; causing her to just roll her eyes.

Caroline watched as Klaus cleaned up the broken glass and tossed the shards into the waste bin under the sink. He asked if she had any cardboard or plastic sheeting that she was not using. Caroline nodded and went into her bedroom to pull out a large shoe box that held some kind of boot in it at one point. Klaus got a very brief flashback of Rebekah and her shoe habits for a second. He gave her small smirk and she narrowed her eyes at him; daring him to say anything at all. Klaus almost considered teasing her, just to see her smile and to shift her from the fear he knew was lurking under her skin.

He boarded up the window the best he could with the few tools he had, knowing full well that Caroline was standing beside him, biting her lip; probably thinking that she could have done it better. Her perfectionist side was showing, and it made Klaus tempted to skew the board such ever so slightly to get a rise out of her, however given the shock she received that night, he decided that she deserved his kindness.

“Thank you.” Caroline smiled at him once he stapled the file edge of the board. He nodded and set the heavy-duty stapler that he was not surprised at all that she owned one. Caroline seemed to be prepared for almost everything. Almost. She walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his middle; resting her head against his heart. As though on instinct, Klaus pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head again; neither seemed startled at the show of affection this time. “For fixing the window, even if the cardboard is crooked.”

“Of course.” Klaus muffled a laugh.

“And for sending mom away. I love her and I get that she is worried, but I just need a break. She was pacing and hoovering. The last thing I want to do is snap or lash out at her, but I feel so pent up.” Caroline told him, pressing into his chest as though it was the most natural place for her to be. Klaus was startled at how right it felt to hold her; given the fact that he met her almost two weeks previously.

“You’re scared and you every right to be. If you did lash out, she would understand.” Caroline snorted and she pulled away from him; causing Klaus to almost groan at the loss of her. She sighed and ran her hands through her hair before heading towards her sofa; Enzo padding along after her, curling up at her feet when she sat down. Klaus followed suit and sat down beside her. “You shouldn’t let yourself get bottled up.”

“I know.” Caroline snapped harshly but closed her eyes afterwards. “Sorry. It’s not that they do not try. Bonnie practically took it upon herself to become my therapist and while mom tries, she isn’t the warmest person. She loves me and I know she will do anything for me but talking has never been our strong point.”

“She is a very formidable woman.” Klaus told Caroline. “And strong. I’ve seen woman fall to pieces when their children are missing, no matter how old they are. Your mother never once lost faith that you were alive. That takes a special kind of strength that I admire her for.” Klaus shifted on the couch and pushed a curl behind Caroline’s ear. “A strength I see in you.”

“Thank you.” Caroline blushed but never took her eyes off of him. She reached out and took his hand into hers. She flips over his hand; pressing the back of his hand into the grey couch while his palm is facing upward. He started tracing the lines on his palm, almost mesmerized by their design. “What about your mom? What is she like?”

Klaus froze under her touch, something Caroline noticed. A memory of being held by his mother as a small child surfaced and it took everything in Klaus not to lash out at the memory. Caroline shifted in her seat and pulled him closer; causing Klaus to look at her. The anger thawed ever so slightly, and he felt stone slowly begin to chip away at the wall he built around himself. In that moment, Klaus knew that he could trust Caroline with the world.

“She was beautiful. Kind. Loving.”

“Was?”

“She was murdered.” Klaus swallowed tightly and turned to look at Caroline, whose eyes had grown wide. There were tears pooling in them; a sight Klaus hated to see. She lifted his hands hand brought them to her lips; hoping to provide some semblance of comfort. “She was the best of us all and yet, she was taken from us to soon.”

“What happened? When?”

“It was just over twenty years ago.” A spark of understanding flashed in Caroline’s eyes as she did the math in her head, but she said nothing, allowing Klaus to continue with his story. “My parents fought all the time and their relationship was not exactly loving. We were all used to their screaming matches and hearing our mother cry behind closed doors. My father was strict and expected so much out of us, and when we displeased him, he let us know.”

“He beat you.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Caroline gave him a look of such compassion, but he could see the anger lingering beneath the surface. She was angry at the imagine of a child Klaus, suffering under Mikael’s fists. Beating after beating was never enough to satisfy him and nothing Klaus did was ever enough to please him.

“All of us. My mother always got the worst of it. She would intervene as often as possible; jumping in to protect her children. No matter what it meant for her, she always stepped in.” Caroline’s hand tightened in his, urging him to continue. “When Finn, my eldest brother, turned eighteen he fled the home. None of us could really blame him. He was in love with a young girl by the name of Sage. My father hated her. Called her a whore.”

“He left to be with her?”

“Yeah.” Klaus nodded. “Like I said, none of us blamed him. He promised that if things got bad, we would always have a place with him and Sage. A year later, after Sage turned eighteen, they eloped. Finn used his inheritance to finance the wedding and a small apartment for them. Only Sage’s parents were at the wedding.”

“I take it didn’t go over well at home?” Caroline and that caused Klaus to give a bitter laughter. He shook his head and Caroline’s shoulder’s slumped in sadness. She loved hearing Klaus’s laugh, remembering the first time she heard it but this was something hallow and lacked the life she come to associate with Klaus.

“Absolutely not.” Klaus paused, letting the memory sink over him. “When my parents found out, Mikael was furious. My mother, not so much. She was hurt that Finn didn’t tell her but not angry for marrying Sage. Mikael, my father, was the opposite. He was incessant. Elijah, who was seventeen, couldn’t handle the arguing. He always left when they started fighting. A fact that he says he regrets to this day.”

“He was seventeen. He was kid. He can’t blame himself for not being able to handle it. Just like Finn. He was running away from a toxic home.” The amount of empathy in her tone for the brother he was closet with made his heart leap; even though she had never met him. Klaus held out his arms for her to shift into his embrace. Caroline leaned forward, resting her head on his chest and Klaus wrapped his arms around her; just holding her bringing him the strength he needed to continue on with his story. He leaned down and kissed the crown of her head again.

“I know. It is a conversation we have had many times over the years.” Klaus whispered. “That night as my parents fought, my mother had a couple glasses wine. I think it was how she gathered her bravery. Kol and I snuck down the stairs to listen to them. Rebekah, who was only eight years old at the time, was hiding under her bed; but Kol and I were braver, and stupid. He is only two years younger than me and the trouble we used to get up to as children.”

“Kol sounds like the typical middle child.”

“Kol is pure chaos, plain and simple.” Caroline gave a small chuckle. “We listened to them argue about Finn, but it soon turned to their own marriage. Apparently, when my mother found out she was pregnant with me, she left my father. She packed up both Finn and Elijah and ran. Mikael tracked her down and brought her back.”

“Seriously?!” Caroline hissed, looking back at him. “She was a human being. If she wanted to leave, she should have been able to leave. Forcing someone to stay in a relationship against their will is a form of imprisonment and your mother, all of you, deserved better than that!”

“I know.” Klaus pacified her. “I know, Sweetheart and trust me, I have asked myself a thousand times why she never left sooner.” He pulled her back to him, still feeling the anger bubbling inside her; something he knew was stemming from her abusive relationship with Damon and being held prisoner in that cell. “However, there was something about her leaving Mikael that he didn’t know.”

“What?”

“She had an affair.” Caroline tiled her head upward. “She was seeing a man who was trying to get her out. He promised to take care of her and her sons. When she fell pregnant again, she finally found the courage to leave. When Mikael dragged her back and she decided to stay, her lover washed his hands of her.” He swallowed. “I was the product of that affair.”

“And Mikael didn’t know? What about her lover?”

“No. They both thought that I was Mikael’s son and Esther, my mother, ensured that Mikael believed it.” A look passed between them, both knowing what Esther would have done to ensure that Mikael believed that Klaus was his son. “My mother decided to rub it in his face that night. He saw red. Grabbed the first thing he could find, which was Kol’s baseball bat, and he beat her. Over and over again until she stopped breathing.”

“Klaus.” Caroline sat up and moved so she was straddling his hips. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face into his neck. Klaus pulled her close, reveling in the feel of her and the comfort it offered him; even if he could feel her tears against his skin. “What happened next?”

“I told Kol to grab Rebekah and run. For the first and last time, my brother did as he was told. He took Rebekah, who was screaming in terror, having heard what was going on downstairs, and ran to the neighbors. They called the police.”

“And you?”

“I tried to save my mum.” His voice was raw and broken, the endearment of his mother changed. In his mind he always referred to Esther as ‘his mother’ because it was easier than remember her as ‘mum’ the loving woman who always cared for him. “I tried to intervene, even if it was too late, her breathing was shallow, and I learned later that her collapsed lung would have been beyond saving if the paramedics got there in time.” He took a deep breath and pressed on, not being able to stop now. “The sight of me made Mikael even angrier. Here I was, a boy he thought was his son and one that he hated, turned out to be nothing more than his wife’s bastard child.”

“You are so much more than that.” Caroline hissed, pulling her head out of his shoulder and glaring at him. Her face was flushed with anger and her eyes red with the tears that were flowing down her face. Klaus placed his hands on her cheeks, flattered that those tears were for him, but it pained him to know that he also caused them. “You are a wonderful man. A man who has so much good in him even though you believe there is nothing but darkness. You are not a bastard.”

“How is it that you know me so well, in such a short period of time?” Klaus whispered, not expecting an answer. Their eyes locked with one another; neither willing to pull away. Their foreheads touched and their breath mingled. “It was what he told me, over and over again as he beat me with the same baseball bat, he used to murder her with.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“What happened after?”

“The next thing I knew was waking up in the hospital. Elijah was beside me, sleeping on the window seat. He refused to leave. He blamed himself for not being there. He was the one that told me our mum was dead. The police had arrived in time to stop him from killing me. They took him into custody. He was charged with murder and since England does not have the death penalty, he is serving a life sentence.”

“Yeah, well, England’s laws are stupid.” Klaus snorted at the comment, needing to hear such levity in that moment, even if Caroline had not meant it to be humors. She narrowed her eyes at him and almost seemed offended. “It’s not funny.”

“I know. I know. Sorry.”

“What happened to you guys? You were all so young.”

“Well, we moved into Sage’s parents’ home for a short time. I mean, my siblings did. I stayed in the hospital recovering. Finn used the rest of his trust fund to put a down payment on a house, one they still live in, and took custody of us. Even though he was only nineteen.” Klaus smirked. “He just married and suddenly they became parents to three teenage boys and a little girl. I guess it was good practice for when they started having their own children.”

“You told me that you left England for college.” Caroline gave Klaus a small smile and Klaus nodded. “Have you been back at all?”

“To England? No.” Klaus shook his head, confirming Caroline’s suspicions. “The closets I came was when Elijah got married a few years ago but his wife is Bulgarian and wanted to have the wedding in Bulgaria. It was the first time I had been back to Europe since. I considered going back recently because they just had their first baby. A girl. Nadia.”

“Uncle Klaus.” Caroline smiled widely and Klaus chuckled. “You should go. Spend time with your new niece and reconnect with you siblings.” She leaned forward and kissed his hair lightly, thinking on everything Klaus had ever told her about his siblings. “I know you said that they come to visit you, especially Kol and Rebekah but it is not the same as you going home.”

“It is not that simple.”

“I never said it was.” Caroline replied back. “You told me that you were doing this job to find answers and that it was form of punishment but let me tell you something and I want you to look at him.” Caroline took Klaus’s face in her hands and started directly at him. “Niklaus Mikaelson, none of what happened to you is your fault. You did nothing wrong and you do not deserve to continue to punish yourself for something you did not do. Mikael is an evil man and I hope he dies a slow and painful death in prison. But that does not mean you should force yourself into a darkness when there is so much light in the world.”

It was like a damn broke inside of him. Staring at Caroline, her eyes pouring into the very fabric of his soul; searching for every secret he had kept hidden. For twenty years, Klaus sought answers and relief to something that he never thought he would find. He ran from his home and built a life trying to undo everything Mikael had done to his family, and yet never succeeding; finding a shadow of Mikael in each and every monster he took down.

And yet Caroline could shine a light in his own personal darkness only moments after hearing the story that haunted Klaus for two decades. Elijah, Finn and every single one of his siblings tried to tell them that he had done nothing wrong, but he could never escape the feeling of that bat beating down upon him; he could never escape Mikael’s fury.

Klaus pulled Caroline down to him, crashing his lips to hers; deciding that words were not enough to convey what her understanding meant to him. Caroline, who was taken by surprise at first, molded into the kiss easily. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, being mindful of her cast. Klaus pressed her body to him, needing to feel her as close to him as possible.

Caroline’s tongue sought entrance at his lips; a request Klaus was eager to grant. His lips parted and his tongue mingled with hers. The kiss was passionate but sweet all at the same time. Klaus’s hands trailed over Caroline’s body, stopping at the small patch of skin lingering between her pajama shorts and her sweatshirt. Suddenly, Klaus realized that Caroline was in nothing more than her pajamas, a fact he overlooked due to his mind being preoccupied.

They broke apart; both breathing heavily. Klaus began to trace small circles on the skin his fingers were touching; seeking permission to go further. Caroline nodded ever so slightly and crashed her lips back to his. Klaus’s hands slid up underneath her sweatshirt and tank top, feeling the length of her back. Caroline moaned into his mouth as she grinded down onto his lap; feeling how hard he was beneath her. She rotated her hips, causing Klaus to moan.

Klaus pulled her as close as he could to him and shifted them, so she was lying back on the sofa and Klaus hoovered over her. Caroline spread her legs in order to make room for him, wrapping them around his waist. She tugged on his blonde curls with her one good hand, pressing him deeper into the kiss. His one hand spread out across her stomach while the other braced himself against the armrest for leverage; his hips grinding into Caroline’s covered core.

Slowly, Klaus inched his hand upward; letting his fingertips trace over her skin. His fingers graced her bottom of her breasts and he traced the curve of it. Caroline whimpered into the kiss, one that neither were willing to break. He moved up the side of her breast and his nail dragged across her nipple; causing Caroline’s back to arch and for her hips to thrust against him.

Klaus broke away from her lips and began trailing a long line of kissing down her throat. Caroline tiled her head, allowing him better access as he sucked on her pulse point. His hand was massaging her breast while Caroline’s nails pulled and dug at his scalp; leaving scratch marks in her wake. Klaus thrusted against her again, causing her to whither beneath him.

“Klaus.” Caroline moaned out, clouding Klaus’s mind further. They were heading into dangerous territory and they both knew it. Neither one could stope the attraction and desire they felt for the other nor the trust that they were building but was it too soon? Caroline was in a dark place; a place Klaus had been living in for years. He did not want to drag her down with him, but instead, restore that light she had inside of her. But the feeling of her skin against his and hearing her desire only made him want her more. “Don’t stop.”

Caroline’s wish however, was denied when a faint buzzing down came from between them. Klaus pulled away from her neck, looking down between them where his phone was in ringing form inside his pocket; noticing the bulge in his pants. He groaned and pulled away from Caroline; whose hair was in complete disarray and her lips swollen from his kisses. Klaus could not help but feel overly proud at the sight, knowing that he was the reason why she looked that way.

“Sorry.” Klaus muttered, Caroline only nodding as her eyes drifted over him unapologetically. Their gaze met and they both knew where the night, or early morning, would have taken them. It was completely unprofessional and something Klaus had never done before, crossing that line, but seeing her and knowing that she wanted him too, Klaus could not bring himself to regret it. Klaus reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone that had gone silent. He pulled up the missed call, expecting it to be Marcel, but was surprised. “It was your mom.”

“What?” Caroline sat up straighter, watching Klaus dial Liz’s number, who picked up immediately.

“Sorry Liz, I ran to the bathroom.” Klaus blurted out, not being able to fully look at Caroline’s questioning gaze; a smirk playing on her lips. Klaus knew full well that her mind was replaying their tryst on the couch only moments earlier. His mind was pulled from his thoughts when Liz’s voice registered something in Klaus’s brain. “Liz, say that again.”

“The gun shots that were heard across town were not from Mr. Wilkerson.” Liz told him in a sad tone. “There was a break in at your motel.”

“What?”

“You need to come down here, immediately.” It was a command, but it was not harsh or cold. There was a hint of sympathy behind her words that filled Klaus’s stomach with dread. There were gunshots and a breaking at his hotel. His partner, Marcel, was not answering his phone. “Klaus?”

“Where is Marcel?”

“Klaus, you need-“

“Liz. Tell me. Now.” Liz didn’t reply. Caroline stood from the couch, realizing something was very wrong and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Liz, where is Marcel?”

“I’m sorry Klaus. I’m so sorry.”

“No. No. Don’t.”

“I’m so sorry. Your partner has been murdered.”

[dearjohnnyflynn]

https://flaunt.com/content/people/johnny-flynn

AUGUST 9, 2017

ACTOR AND MUSICIAN JOHNNY FLYNN'S VARIED STORYTELLING GIFTS ARE PERFECT FOR NOW

BY CHANTELLE JOHNSON

As I dial the mobile number to speak to folksinger and actor Johnny Flynn, I’m struck by the fact that almost a decade has passed since his debut album, A Larum which established Flynn as a part of the new folk movement alongside Laura Marling and Mumford & Sons. Yet times change, and in the intervening decade, Flynn has returned to his first love: acting.

Before becoming a well-known musician, Flynn attended drama school with intentions of becoming an actor. “I went to acting school after I was recording and making music and I was doing it alongside music. So, I was doing theatre and plays at the Royal Court,” he says, “I made quite an effort to keep the two things separate. It was important to me to make sure that I was taken kind of seriously in both fields, so I didn’t go onstage as a musician and talk about acting projects or vice versa. They’re two quite different universes, even though they’re both performative.”

Having worked on various lo-fi indie films, plays and smaller acting projects, Flynn is now taking on his most challenging role to date, starring as the young Albert Einstein in the ten-part National Geographic series Genius, produced by Ron Howard. The show focuses on Einstein’s progression from an idealistic and rebellious young man just developing his most famous theories through to his later years – played by Geoffrey Rush – as the world-renowned, hyper-famous scientist.

Best known for his mop of shaggy blonde hair and blue eyes, how did Flynn end up in the role of the celebrated physicist with whom he shares no obvious physical similarities? “I just thought it was kind of ridiculous that I would be seen as Einstein and I actually kind of passed up on it,” Flynn admits to me over the phone.

“But I was telling my friend and she was saying, ‘You’re a complete idiot. That sounds amazing.’ She sat down and helped me send off the tape, even though I’d missed the deadline. The next thing I knew, I was speaking with Ron Howard on Skype. He was talking about Einstein in a way that made me feel really excited about being in the project, even though I didn’t think I had the right to portray him. It kind of went from there.”

The physical transformation amounted to an hour in the make-up chair every day: contact lenses, prosthetics, and having his hair dyed black. The show features an all-star cast including Emily Watson and Geoffrey Rush as the older Einstein, facing the rise of Nazism in the 1930s. Flynn had the freedom to construct his own version of Einstein – which he describes as quite liberating – since details on the young scientist’s character are sparse, aside from a few anecdotes.

Although they didn’t share the screen, Flynn says that creating the character was a collaborative effort with Rush to allow the two versions of the physicist to blend seamlessly. “We’d send each other references, clips, and people on YouTube and say, ‘this person is quite Einstein,’” he explains. “A broad range of people – like Harpo Marx, Bob Dylan in a press conference in 1964, or some funny clips of owls walking across branches. Or we’d collect adjectives that would sort of pertain to a collective idea of Einstein. It could be quite abstract.”

The program seeks to debunk myths about Einstein. Far from being a poor student, he was a solid scholar as a young man. He also had many complex affairs with various women, explored in the show as it traverses significant personal and historical events during his lifetime.

Aside from Genius, Flynn is filming the third season of the sleeper-hit show Lovesick. The series follows his hapless, romantic character Dylan who must inform his ex-girlfriends that he has an STD, while trying to navigate a quarter-life crisis as he explores his feelings for his best friend Evie, played by actress Antonia Thomas. Flynn has become incredibly close to the other cast members on the intimate shoot. “I’m in my bedroom at the moment and Antonia and Josh who plays Angus are in the living room watching The Night Of,” he says casually, “We’re all living together for these couple of months while we’re filming.”

Although it’s easy to imagine a student experience complete with bad takeaways and wild nights out, Flynn is a family man, married with two small children and he takes fatherhood very seriously. “I’m trying to be a whole person in front of my kids and not just this infallible deity, which was what my dad was to me, and I think that’s what makes for a big let-down when you get to 13 or 14,” he says. “My son is six and he’s super smart. He’s constantly wrenching my heart out of my chest with his observations and how he’s able to see the world. I don’t even want to be any kind of overseer or overlord to his existence. I just want him to flourish and be himself because he’s got such a unique perspective.”

Parenthood aside, Flynn has recently released his fourth studio album, Sillion (via Transgressive Records), a reflective record that explores his relationship with his father, who died when he was 18. It also touches on the current global political situation. “With everything that’s been going on in the world and the complex ideologies that have built up around the human mind and certain individuals and groups of people who are in conflict with one another, it just seems quite resonant to go back to something very simple,” he says, seemingly conscious of not sounding too earnest. “Rather than getting suspicious or insecure, for us all to look to the Earth and – this sounds incredibly hippy or something – but actually it’s just an image. It was for me, kind of a resonant poetic image.”

While he maintains a healthy dose of cynicism when it comes to mainstream politics, he intends to vote for Jeremy Corbyn’s Labour in the upcoming UK election. “I’m behind that train but I do think the whole system’s a bit fucked,” he begins, “the answer doesn’t lie in politics and I think it will take a few generations for all this stuff to work its way out.”

When asked where the answer does lie, he suggests reading an article by Robert MacFarlane on the Anthropocene – the term given to the current geological era, which scientists think will be determined primarily by human impact.

“He was saying that there’s a call to arms for writers and artists to come forward with the language to process and understand the new epoch that we’re in. I think that’s why I’m happy to be a storyteller at this point. It reaches into people’s hearts and minds in a way that politics can’t.” Considering his current trajectory – music for the heart, stories for the mind – Flynn seems ready to help us find new dialogues for conversation, and maybe to divine some answers therein.

Written by Chantelle Johnson

Photographer: David Needleman at Jones Management

Stylist: Joshua Liebman at Honey Artists

Groomer: Eloise Cheung at Kate Ryan using Dior Homme

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Sound of Nature- Part 1

Warnings: Slight drinking and swearing Word count: 1945 Josh Kiszka x Reader

Part 1- By the Fire 

After a couple of hours, you finally got to the destination. To be completely honest, hearing Josh and Jake arguing every 15 minutes annoyed you the most and you were already tired of hearing them argue. Vic had fallen asleep on the road, her legs propped up against the chair Sammy was on.

You finally hopped out of the car and stretched your legs. You look around at the wonderful view surrounding you: a large lake was extended nearby, and almost on the shore, was a small treeless portion, ideal for camping. Over the lake, you could see the shape of the mountains forming. You take a deep breath in and enjoy the silence around, which was interrupted only by the occasional sound of leaves being blown by the soft, chilly wind and the light chirps of the birds nearby.

“This is going to be a lot of fun, don’t you think?” Josh spoke up, approaching you. You turned your head to see him better and the image in front of your eyes was looking like an art piece. You took a moment before answering, to take in the sight- Josh’s soft curls being slightly ruffled from the wind, his smile that always brightened your day and the landscape behind, made it all seem like too much. You have obviously fallen for him quite a while ago, but you wouldn’t admit that because you knew it would only break your heart to hear the truth- that you were only friends and the possibility to be anything more than that didn’t exist.

“It definitely will be, if you and Jake wouldn’t argue as much as you did on the road,” you laughed sassily, trying to hide the slight pink tint that your cheeks got.

“Hey, who said that I will argue with Jake? I could argue with Sam, or Danny if that will make you feel better,” he laughed, showing his perfect set of teeth once again.

You grinned a little and walked towards the car. You started helping the unpacking. You unloaded the snacks from the trunk while the boys started fighting the tents.

It took them quite some time to set up all your tents, but once they were done, everything looked perfect. The sun just began to set and the last of its shiny rays made the lake water sparkle like jewels. You admired everything- the lake shining for the last minutes that day, the camp finally set up, the wooden logs set around the place where soon a fire will be lit, and most importantly, your best friends laughing.

“Should we light the fire?” you ask. “It’s starting to get dark.”

The boys stopped unpacking the drinks and snacks they brought and looked at each other and the smile from their faces slowly faded away.

“You forgot to get wood, didn’t you?” you raised an eyebrow, barely holding back a laugh.

“What are you looking at? Go get some! Meanwhile, me and Y/N need to have a talk.” Victoria pitched in, pointing at you.

The boys slowly approached the shallow forest behind our small camp.

“Y/N, this is your chance,” Vic said as she approached you. “Tell Josh how you really feel about him.”

You blinked and tried to play dumb. “And how do I feel about him?” Victoria has been your best friend for years now, but since your last relationship, you still had trust issues with anyone, her included. You didn’t confess to anyone, ever, what was on your mind, love-related. You liked to keep these things to yourself. But seems like Victoria saw right through you this time.

“Come on, don’t start this. I am not going to force you, but all I am saying is that if you were looking for the right time to talk to him about this, this is the moment. I see the way you look at him, it’s obvious,” Vic tried to talk you out of keeping things to yourself.

You promised Vic you would think about it, but didn’t promise you would say anything. Just in time, Danny returned to the camp, shortly followed by Sam, Jake and Josh. They sat down the branches they brought.

“Who’s ready to get fucking drunk?” Josh let out a shout, a shout that turned into a song. Everyone cheered as he held two bottles of alcohol up.

You all got your drinks in small quantities, and you started having a good time. Jake took out the guitar and played a couple of his favorite songs and Josh picked up his new hobby- storytelling. He told you stories from the tour they just got back from.

You were sat cross-legged on the log across the one where Josh was, braiding Danny’s dark hair and listening to the stories Josh told you. Vic was sitting next to Sam, playing cards, and she was beating him.

Slowly but surely, everyone got a little drunk.

“How about we play a truth or dare game?” Vic suggested. Your eyes moved from your fingers tangled in Danny’s hair to Vic’s eyes in an instant. You knew what she was trying to do.

“Dare,” Josh started, his lips curved up in a grin. You stopped for a moment from doing anything and looked at Josh. It was cruel- this feeling you had. Even though you grew up with the boys and they were your best friends, you were still feeling guilty that you couldn’t tell any of them about how you felt about Josh, not even him. Even though you knew they had always helped you with any kind of problem and you knew how supportive they have always been, you still couldn’t tell them anything. You couldn’t tell them the way your heart skipped a beat every time Josh smiled, laughed or hugged you.

You spaced out for a while, and snapped back to reality when you heard Josh’s loud laughs coming from the lake. Vic dared him to jump in fully clothed, and Josh, being Josh, obviously agreed. He soon returned to the fireplace, water dripping off of him. Once he got a fresh change of clothes, he took back his place on the log, by the fireside.

“You’re next,” he said pointing at you. Your cheeks slightly light up, thank God it was dark outside and no one could notice.

“Truth.”

“What’s your favorite memory, ever?”

Every single one we have together you wanted to say, but stopped just in time. After a moment of thinking, you picked a particular one. “When we all went on the 4th of July at a barbecue in the countryside and then went to a pool, three years ago. Do you remember that day? The dog of the old lady living nearby our barbecue spot started chasing us and he chased us for a long time, until we gave up a vegan sausage, which it didn’t eat, but at least it left us alone.”

The boys slightly laughed at the memory of that day as you resumed, this time, unbraiding Danny’s hair. His hair was even frizzier than before and it made you chuckle as you played with his hair. Sam filled everyone’s glasses once again as the game continued.

The game continued for quite some time, but the boys were starting to get tired. You weren’t tired, you were actually having a good time, so you decided to stay outside until sunrise. Everyone but Josh left in their tents. Josh drank the rest of his drink and motioned with his hand to come next to him.

Your heart skipped a beat, as usual. You sat down on the log next to him and admired the landscape for a moment. Josh laid down on the log, head in your lap and his eyes moved from the starry night sky with red hints from the upcoming sunrise to your face as his lips parted and eyes slowly closed.

“Y/N?” he asked after a while, as if to check if you were still awake. You just hummed as a response. “Do you know which is my favorite memory?”

“The memory that you were born 5 minutes before Jake?” you joked and managed to earn a laugh from Josh. His eyes opened and looked straight at you.

“That too. But I wanted to tell you that the moment you came for us at the airport, last week,” he answered as his eyes closed again. “We have known each other for what- 15 years now? When we met for the first time I would have never imagined that we will still be best friends after so many years. I am thankful for having someone like you in my life.”

This made your heart skip a beat and you remembered the day you met Josh and Jake for the first time.

They were both eight, as were you. You just moved in the neighborhood, and your mother insisted you go with her and meet the neighbors. When Karen Kiszka opened the door, you could see the two boys fighting over the remote, in the room behind her. They stopped when they saw you looking at them and they approached the door. Karen invited you and your mother into their home.

Josh approached you and extended his arm. “I am Joshua Michael Kiszka,” he said and you grabbed his hand and shook it.

“Y/F/N, nice to meet you Joshua Michael,” you smiled.

“I am Jake,” Jake said as well and did the same gesture as Josh.

“Do you want to see our dad’s record collection?” Josh suggested shyly and you nodded eagerly.

You followed the boys and spent hours with them. They played you all their favorite records and by the end of the day, Karen served you all with fresh cookies and hot chocolate, and you then met Sammy, who was three years younger than you and the twins.

As the days passed, you all started getting along better and better. Some years later, when Sammy met Danny, you all met and got along perfectly.

Your eyes teared up a little bit at this memory. You quickly wiped the tear off your cheek, but Josh had already noticed it.

“Hey, what happened?” he quickly stood up and put a protective arm around your shoulder. He has always done this, since you were kids. Every time you fell in the park and hurt your knee or your arm, Josh came next to you and comfort you.

“It’s nothing, Josh,” you lied and faked a smile. You stood like that for a moment, in silence.

Josh obviously didn’t fall for your fake smile. “Y/N, what’s going on? Is it something I said? I am so, so sorry, I didn’t think it would make you sad-”

“No, Josh, it’s alright, really. I just thought about this, about us. How time passed and we still remained best friends even though we’ve been through so much bullshit together and had our fair share of fights, and-“ you started but stopped just in time. And I like you, Josh, but I don’t want to mess up our friendship- that’s what you wanted to tell him.

“And?” he insisted. He pulled you into a hug, a reassuring one. A hug that said I am here for you, through good and bad.

You hugged him back and finally let it out, in a whisper. “And I like you.”

He pulled away from the hug and looked you straight in the eyes. The sky behind you got a red and orange color, while the clouds remained dark-colored and the fire beside you was giving off heat was lighting up Josh’s facial features. But his eyes remained unreadable.

Tags: @myownparadise96, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder

[haberdashing]

Curiosity

TMA fic, part of my Elias Feels series. Elias Bouchard and Jonathan Sims have an uncomfortable but ultimately helpful conversation.

on AO3

They were having another get-together. “They” being the weird gaggle of people who hate Jonah Magnus that Elias Bouchard had found himself growing closer to as he got used to living in 2019, that is. Georgie--who turned out to be Melanie’s girlfriend as well as her living partner, which wasn’t all that much of a surprise to Elias, really--had gotten over her cold, and they were celebrating Magnus’ death again, though this time Georgie and Melanie were hosting at their place.

Elias still felt like he didn’t quite belong in the group, for a couple reasons. For one, they all by and large shared a history that he was missing--two histories, really, one big picture and one on a more personal level. It was one thing to be told it’s 2019 now and another to catch all the new slang and jargon and references that had come to be since 1996; it was one thing to be told a tale of paranormal happenings and another to understand brief references and allusions to events and powers that he hadn’t experienced firsthand.

(Christ, he didn’t even believe in the paranormal--well, hadn’t in 1996. Even while working as James Wright’s personal secretary, and Elias had known well enough that James was a fervent believer in the supernatural, even before he’d learned that James himself was supernatural. The trick, one that Elias had honed over the years, was to get a handle on people’s expectations and preferences and follow them or flout them as best suited his own purpose, and with something as important as a potential career that often meant smiling and nodding and pretending he agreed wholeheartedly with his immediate superiors. Oh, absolutely, the supernatural is real, these statements are important, of course, now where am I supposed to file this one again?)

Also, while he had been absent for all that history, Jonah Magnus using his body had been all too present, and though everyone was at least willing to believe that he wasn’t the same guy, he could sense that it was still... awkward for them. Couldn’t blame them, he supposed, but he couldn’t help having the face and voice they associated with the asshole who’d ruined their lives, either.

It wasn’t too much of a surprise, then, that Elias was already literally as well as physically on the outskirts of things when Jon gently nudged his shoulder and whispered, “Can I have a word with you in private, Eli?”

There was something in Jon’s tone that reminded Elias uncomfortably of being taken aside by a schoolteacher after misbehaving, but then again, he wasn’t positive that that wasn’t just his imagination, that that wasn’t just Jon.

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

They navigated into a side room, Elias gently smacking Jon with his cane when he tried to guide Elias’ walking a little too much for his own comfort. (Melanie was a godsend, really. She’d been through a lot of what he had, knew the right numbers to call, the right doctors to consult. He was already starting to get comfortable using a cane, though he still missed his eyesight, much as he knew that losing it was the only reason he was still around at all.)

Jon shut the door most of the way behind them, though it didn’t click all the way  shut.

“I just... learned something about you, Eli. I didn’t mean to, it just sort of... happens sometimes.”

Elias nodded numbly; he still didn’t have a clue what this was actually about, but Jon was clearly getting there soon enough.

“Something you did, specifically, except--I didn’t learn when exactly it happened, so I don’t know if it was actually you that did it, or...”

“Or Jonah Magnus in my body?”

“Quite.” Jon breathed in and out once, softly, before continuing. “If it was you, it- it’s really none of my business, I suppose-”

Elias considered making some remark about how from what he knew of Jon, something being none of his business wouldn’t necessarily stop him from investigating it just the same, but decided to stay silent and hear the rest of Jon’s statement out.

“But if it was Magnus, then I think you ought to know.”

“Right. Got it. So what is it you saw, then?” The way Jon had avoided mentioning the subject matter thus far led Elias to suspect that it was some kind of unsavory, but then, between Jonah Magnus doing all kinds of messed-up shit as him and Elias himself having done his fair share of poorly-thought-out things in his life, that didn’t really narrow things down.

“Well... let me start by saying it has to do with one Joshua Ritter. I don’t know if that name means anything to you-”

Elias could feel his face heat up, imagined that it was probably as bright of a red as Josh’s ginger hair, maybe even as dark as the freckles that were spread all across Josh’s face, across his arms, across every inch of his body, as Elias had learned first-hand when-

“Y-yes. I... I know that name. That was me.” Elias paused, considered further. “I mean, I assume it was me, depends what you saw I guess--but Josh didn’t care for the supernatural, I doubt Magnus would have any reason to, to do anything with him-”

“I saw the two of you... together.”

“You mean we were fucking?”

Jon made a weird choked noise at that, which Elias considered as a strange sort of personal success. Who’s the one feeling awkward about this conversation now, Jon?

“That’d be me, I imagine. Josh and I didn’t part on the best of terms, I doubt he’d have been interested in... doing that again.”

“I-I’m sorry, like I said, it’s none of my business really then-”

“I’m not gay, though. For what it’s worth.”

Jon had an awkward sort of cough that Elias half-suspected was feigned before saying, “Didn’t say you were.”

“I mean, I’ve had girlfriends before--Katie Sullivan in secondary, Annie White and Liz Culvert in uni, Sara Holmes after--I’m not gay.”

“First, that’s not actually proof you’re not gay, and second, there’s nothing wrong with it if you are. I mean, none of us are homophobic here--you know Georgie and Melanie are dating, right?”

“Yeah, and you and Martin probably go off and snog every chance you get, too, right?”

Jon made another one of those weird noises, having to take a few deep breaths before saying, “...guess I owe Martin a tenner now.”

“What, you made a bet about that? Seriously?”

“Martin bet me ten pounds that you’d figure out we were together without either of us having to tell you first.”

Elias snorted. “That was a sucker’s bet. I figured that out the night we met. You two aren’t as subtle as you seem to think you are.”

“Now you tell me...” Jon let out an exaggerated-sounding sigh. “You know you can be interested in guys without being gay specifically, right?”

“I mean, I guess I was a little bi-curious back then...”

“Never been a fan of that term, myself. Either you’re interested in a certain gender or you’re not. So if you had feelings for this Josh-”

He did. Oh, he did. He could still remember every word of the argument they’d had that’d ended in them breaking up, the way Josh had looked like he was halfway in between screaming and crying, slamming the door of Josh’s flat behind him and trying to pretend that his hands weren’t shaking, that he wasn’t on the verge of tears himself...

The ache of losing Josh had faded, as time went on, but Elias wasn’t sure it would ever fully go away.

“-and for those women as well, perhaps you’re simply bi, not ‘bi-curious’--or pan, for that matter-”

“Pan?”

“Pansexual. It means feeling sexual attraction towards someone regardless of their physical sex or gender identity.”

“Did you memorize that out of a dictionary, or did you just know the definition word for word when you needed it?” As Jon started to reply, Elias cut him off, saying, “It doesn’t really matter, I suppose, it’s just... it’s weird that both of those seem like real possibilities.”

“I feel like you’re trying to change the subject.”

“Look, it- it’s complicated, alright? I mean, my dad always claimed he’s fine with that stuff, but then he’d make a face and avoid it whenever it came up. I didn’t dare tell him about Josh--I don’t think he’d have, like, done anything, but... you never know, you know? Maybe I’m just not as brave as you and your- I don’t know what term you use for each other, boyfriend, partner, snog buddy-”

Elias was expecting Jon to make that awkward noise again, catch him off guard and have him stammer through a response.

Elias definitely wasn’t expecting Jon to reply gently but firmly, without even a hint of hesitation, with the single word “Husband.”

Elias’ mind reeled at the implications of that one simple word.

“Husband? Wait, you two got married--you can get married? Is that even legal?”

“It’s been legal since 2014, yes. Admittedly, our ceremony was a bit... unorthodox, given the circumstances, but it counts just the same in the eyes of the law.” Jon laughed a little before adding, “Things have changed since 1996, Eli, and not all for the worse, either.”

Elias sat there for a long moment, letting Jon’s words sink in. He thought maybe this group he’d found himself part of was just unusually understanding about... that sort of thing, but if same-sex marriage was legal, it couldn’t just be them, could it? He knew it was a different world out there than the one he was used to, but that... that was comforting, in a strange sort of way. Not that Elias saw himself rushing out into the dating scene any time soon, for a partner of any gender, but...

Elias shot Jon a weak smile as he said, “Good to know.”

[kwanisms]

(I’ve been seeing people having problems with their inbox so I’m just doing this as a precaution)

OOOOH!! Well, I’m not sure what groups you like to read for but here are some of my favorite writers and my favorite pieces by them. ~K♡✿

BTS

@ellieljade

↳ Mr. Min | [M] | CEO!Yoongi | Series || This is hands down one of my FAVORITE series on tumblr. It was one of the first series I ever read on here and I love it. Nicole is an amazing writer and I love her with all my heart, even if she did kick me into NCT hell and tortures me on Twitter sliding Yuta and Johnny content in my DMs.

↳ Five Months | [M] | Namjoon | Oneshot || This hurts so good and honestly what really made me see Namjoon in a new light. I’ve always seen him as a goofy tall dork but this oneshot? W O W. Nicole back at it again. (ilysm♡)

@dark-muse-iris

↳ Transference | [M] | Therapist!Hoseok | Series || This is another one of my favorite series on this site. Iris is an extremely talented writer. She is part of the reason I wanted to get into writing fanfiction and post it. I love Iris dearly and she is a huge influence for me. She’s shown me things I never thought I would be into but here I am, a shibari enthusiast. (thanks Iris)

↳ Working Man Bangtan | [M] | OT7 | Series of oneshots || I love this series. I love it as a whole, I love the pieces as individuals and if I had to choose a favorite among this series it would have to be Tasty Tryst or Seaside Sabbatical. Tasty Tryst is strawberry farmer Taehyung (it’s canon now!) and Seaside Sabbatical is fisherman Seokjin. Both of these pieces are incredibly well written and honestly, they’re so vivid. The attention to detail is incredible. A lot of time and thought was put into them. That goes for the rest of the series!

@btssmutgalore

↳ Zaddy | [M] | CEO!Taehyung | Series || Dee is wonderful. Not only as a writer but as a person. I love her so much. This was the first series I ever read from her. It’s amazing and the ANGST. Just, if you want to stew in your feels, this is for you. Also, imagining Taehyung in a suit is just pure artistry.

↳ Sin City | [M] | Stripper! Jimin | Series || This is one of those fics that you just have to sit back and appreciate every time you finish reading a chapter. The story is so captivating and it makes me FEEL things. Dammit it, Dee. Damn you for making me FEEL like the emotional burrito I am. (i love you)

@kookingtae

↳ Falling into You | [M] | Jungkook college AU | Series || JORDAN. YOU PRECIOUS BEAN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH YOU LITTLE GOOBER. So, I think FIY was the third BTS fic I ever read on tumblr. [And Jordan’s oneshot, The Switch was the first BTS smut I ever read. So thank you for introducing me into this world. Jordan has this way of writing and setting a scene and it’s so perfect and it flows so naturally for her. I’m jealous. Everything from the slow burn angst, to the witty remarks, to the tension you can almost feel between the reader and Jungkook, it all feels so natural.

Seventeen

@17mounteens ​

↳ This Jihoon with Noona smut | [M] | Jihoon | oneshot || What I love about this so much is that I am older than Jihoon, so this definitely fit more on my level and I enjoyed reading it so much. Admin Scooter is AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Seriously, everything 17mounteens writes is amazing and top quality. And it’s not all just smut. They write a fair bit of fluff and angst too, so please check them out if you love SVT!

@cheoliday / @cheolkwan ​

Ri is a wonderful human being and she is so so talented and lovely and just a gem to interact with and I love her so much. A pure human being. She’s another person who inspired me to write and post my own fics on tumblr so thank you Ri. I love everything she’s done and if I had to pick a favorite thing she’s written, it would be this Thigh Riding piece with Seungcheol (cause let’s be honest, who would want to ride Daddy Coups’ thigh?) or this piece from @svthateblog​ with Seungkwan: until you burn: figment.

@candiedmingyu ​

Please read everything. The headcanons on this blog are fucking POETRY. I get so much inspiration from this blog and I just love everything on here.

@blushnote ​

↳ At the Altar | [M] | Joshua | Oneshot || WHOOOOOOO BOY. This was some of the best SVT smut I have ever come across and I am IN LOVE with this writer. Everything was so perfect. Even like a week after reading it, I am still speechless. Please read this. It’s so good. Words have failed me.

@cupidhaos ​

↳ Newsflash! | [M/A/F] | OT13 | Social media AU | Series || YO, YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS SERIES. DON’T PLAY WITH MY EMOTIONS AND PLEASE LET JOSH END UP WITH Y/N. No but really. This series gave me so many ups and downs I don’t even know where to begin like ASJHDAJDKAJ. Please read this. I love it so much TT

[clumsybookworm18]

and my burden to bear is a love (i can’t carry anymore) | pt.3

Jossam + Ghost AU

Summary: Sam thinks she’s crazy and Josh is... Josh.

[Read on AO3], Moodboard, part 1 / 2 / 4

She shouldn’t have been surprised. Not when it came to Josh. And yet she couldn’t believe it. When people die, they tend to stay dead. These sorts of things didn’t happen. People did not see their dead friends. 

But there he was. 

Draped over her bed was Joshua Washington, a person who was officially declared dead (if the headless body was any indication), his black clothes a stark contrast with her ivory duvet.  

She didn’t know- couldn’t even begin to fathom what to say or do other than gawk at him. The pounding in her heart too distracting, along with some other emotion she didn’t want to make out. 

Josh angled his head, a half smile playing on his lips. “Dreadful etiquette, I apologize.”

He looked anything but sorry. 

“You’re here,” Sam heard herself say, far way, the words somehow coming out resigned and shocked- not processing she had spoken at all. She wasn’t entirely sure she was breathing either.  

“Hello to you too, Sammy.” 

She blinked. Then blinked once more. Nope, he was still there. 

What. The. Hell.

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Most people would consider staring rude, ya kn-”

Without thinking, she hurled at him the first thing at her reach. Which turned out to be her diary. 

Josh let out a curse, ducking in vain as it flew through him. Both of them watched as it landed with a muffled thump on the plush carpet. 

He turned to look at her, muttering, “Pacifist my ass.” Though his face was serious, something like amusement glinted in his eyes. “Is this going to be a thing now? You throwing something at me every time I scare you?”

No no no no no. This wasn’t happening. She must’ve fallen asleep and was dreaming right now. She was having some kind of fever dream. Yup. That was totally it. There absolutely wasn’t a dead person sitting on the foot of her bed. Nope. 

Looking to avoid the presence in front of her, Sam threw the covers off her and got up, walking over to where her diary had landed. As she bent to pick it up, out of the corner of her eye she saw Josh smoothly sit up, bracing his hands on his thighs, watching her. Always watching her. Like he used to do. 

A shiver went through her. It was just the cold. Nothing else. 

That's what happens when you leave the comfort of your blanket burrito to step into a freezing room.

Sam closed her eyes and took a single deep breath, trying not to let the eeriness of it rattle her (keyword being trying), before turning to face him. “You’re not real.”

Josh snorted. “Oh, I’m real alright,” he said, and- yep, that was definitely amusement glittering in those eyes. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for one of you fuckers to finally see me?” 

“No,” she refuted, shaking her head. “This is just my subconscious showing me what I want to see. Or don’t, more specifically.” 

He gave her a lazy grin that once would’ve made her heart flutter. “I’m flattered Sammy. Really. But no imaginary doppelganger of mine can have my wit and charm-”

“And can’t be as aggravating as you,” she said dryly. “You know what? I’m actually inclined to believe this is all true. You haven’t been here five minutes and you’re already getting on my nerves.”

Josh put a hand to his chest. “Aw Sammy, you wound me. After all those late night talks we had together.” 

She glared at him. 

Josh stalked towards her, stopping less than a foot away, and she could’ve sworn a whisper of warmth grazed her skin. “What? Did you actually think you were crazy talking to a voice inside your head?” He gave her a knowing smirk. “Oh honey, you’re not delusional, trust me.”

Flashes of them in the mines raced through her mind, clamping down on her heart. Josh muttering to himself. Mike hitting him. Sam asking for the cable car key. Josh giving it to her. Their last conversation (she’d lost count of how many times she’s replayed it in her mind). The last time she saw him, alive and bleeding. 

She didn’t even say goodbye.

Fiercely shoving the memories away, Sam refrained from curling her fingers around the chain that rested around her neck, curling them into fists instead. She didn’t miss how his eyes flickered down to her hands as if he knew, but didn’t comment on it.

Wise move.

“How?” She demanded. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

He shrugged. “Never said I wasn’t.” 

Her blood chilled at his words- ignoring the doubt churning beneath her skin, trying to untangle the certainty of what she’d known all along but kept pushing into the back of her mind, like every irrational thought. She took a few steps back, putting some much needed space between them. For her sake.

“You mean to tell me... that the voice I’ve been hearing all this time was a vestige of you and not my imagination,” she said, not entirely a question.

Josh smirked. “What do you think?”

“So all those terrible wisecracks and irritating quips… that was you?”

“I’m pretty sure you mispronounced the word genius.”

A short, incredulous laugh escaped her. “This is insane. I’m fucking insane.”

“No, you’re not,” Josh said flatly.

“I have to be, otherwise I’m talking to a ghost.” Which, as far as she was concerned, were only supposed to haunt graveyards and old houses, not a tired twenty year old. 

He lifted a hand as if he were going to touch her but stopped when Sam yielded a step. Josh’s mouth tightened, hurt flickering in his eyes. “Sam, listen to me. I’m real. This is happening.”

“You can’t be here,” she insisted. “You can’t.” 

“Yet here I am. Standing right in front of you. Talking to you,” he said, crossing his arms. “You know it. You can feel it. You have for a while. Admit it.”

“You can be a brain tumor, for all I know,” she snapped, making way to get away from him. 

Josh’s moved swiftly, snarling softly and blocking her path. “You weren’t this upset when I was a faceless voice ‘inside your head’ but now I’m a problem?” 

Sam ignored him, stepping around him and walking away. 

Josh didn’t let her get far, immediately materializing in front of her. “Is it that hard for you to even look at me?”

This time she didn’t even bother trying to pass by him, but strode right through him instead which seemed to piss him off the whole more. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. 

Sam jolted at the feel of something cold sliding over her neck. She whirled to him, a hand rising to the back of her neck. “Stop that!” 

“Then stop being so stubborn,” he said simply, any leftover amusement fading from his face. 

She debated on throwing the diary to his face again, but knowing her luck, the ruckus it would cause wouldn’t be worth it and she’d probably end up waking her mother. And Sam really wasn’t in the mood to explain why she was up at two in the morning arguing like a lunatic with a ghost- hallucination- fuck. Jury’s still out. “What do you want from me?”

Josh crossed his arms. “What I want is for you to stop freaking out and talk to me.”

“How can you expect me to be calm about this,” she hissed, motioning a hand in his direction.  

“Considering the situation we were in the last time we saw each other, Samantha, you could at least look happy to see me.”

Sam stiffened. The last thing she needed was a reminder of what happened down at the mines. “I don’t want you here.” 

“Tough shit.” he snapped, coming closer, making it harder to ignore the warmth seeping off from him. “You think I enjoy watching you wallow around everyday, mourning my sisters? The past?” The Me? went unspoken between them but the look in her eyes told him she heard it altogether. “Fading away, day after day, watching as your grief and despair eat you alive. Literally.” 

Sam didn’t answer him but if he wasn’t already dead, she would’ve killed him with the glare she sent his way. 

“Whether you hate me or love me, you’re stuck with me,” Josh went on, not balking from that hazel gaze. His eyes were clearer now, more focused. “But I’m also stuck with you. So you see, kind of a lose-lose situation.” 

She watched him for a heartbeat longer before asking, “So what? I’m supposed to be ecstatic you’re here to make my life a living hell? Haunt me for the rest of my miserable days?”

His face darkened. “Is that what you think?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me given all your yapping.” 

“You didn’t seem to mind during our nightly tête-à-têtes.” 

“Prick.” 

Josh let out a wry, low laugh, looking her over. “As for whatever reason you’re seeing me…” he trailed off, bringing a hand up to his jaw. “Well, it makes sense, of course, since you have been the only one that’s been talking back to me- that could hear me in the first place.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “We had a…” 

Connection. 

Sam scoffed. 

“Right,” she said, drawing the word out. 

She was definitely sleep deprived. 

Josh watched her walk over to her bed, furiously stuffing some pillows under her arms. He raised an eyebrow. “...What are you doing?”

“Going over to my mom’s room,” she said, not looking at him, “I need to think, and you’re obviously not gonna leave anytime soon...”

He leans against the wall, frowning. “What makes you think I won’t follow you?”

“You won’t,” Sam says, and almost laughs at the sureness of her tone. If tonight has taught her anything, is that she doesn’t know jack-shit. She could already feel a headache forming.

What a mess. 

Once she’s in front of her mom’s door, she lets out a shuddering breath, looking back to make sure there was no other presence but her own. Her heartbeat slows when her eyes find nothing.

Careful not to wake her mom, Sam climbs into the fluffy bed, the sheets warm and welcoming. As she drifts off, she hears his voice like a whisper in the wind,

 “Night Sammy.”

[writing-of-a-british-bitch]

With You

 Fandom: Queen/ Bohemian Rhapsody

Specified gender: Female

Pairing: Brian May X reader

TW: language

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1.9K

A/N: This is shit oops.

Requests: OPEN

Wise men say only fools rush in

But I can't help falling in love with you

You never expected to find love. You wanted to, but you never saw it happening. It was one of the worst feelings imaginable but was only worsened when your cousin, Deacy, came to visit with his wife Veronica. They were just so... happy. And, as bad as it sounded, it made you feel sick. You were happy for them, god you were ecstatic but the thought that you'd never truly be happy haunted your mind.

But then came Brian.

You'd met him after a nasty breakup with your ex. Deacy had just picked you up from the airport when he got a phone call demanding he come straight to the studio. He had offered to drop you at home with Veronica and your niece and nephews, Robert, Laura and Michael, but you decided to join your brother at the studio.

You'd met two of his bandmates briefly at his wedding, but didn't really get to know them that much. Freddie had spoken to you quickly before getting shit-faced and Roger had run off with one of your cousins. So, seeing them at the studio was something else entirely.

"Sorry I'm late, guys. Was picking her up."Deacy stated as he walked into the studio, holding the door open for you. You were trailing close behind him shyly. Roger perked up from behind the drum kit upon seeing you, while Brian was too distracted tuning his guitar. Paul rolled his eyes, bringing his cigarette to his lips and Freddie continued to press some of the keys on the piano in a beautiful melody.

"I never expected to be saying this to you, John, but no groupies. The boys don't need any more distractions." Paul snapped, pulling the cigarette away from his mouth.

"That's his sister you fucking dimwit," Roger growled, standing up from his stool and strolling over, bringing you into a quick hug.

"Good to see you, (Y/N)," Roger added, his voice quickly transferring to one of a kinder tone.

"Nice to see you too, Rog."You mumbled with a small smile.

"Oh, (Y/N) darling! I didn't see you come in." Freddie declared, springing up from the piano and tugging you into a tight embrace.

"Surprised you remember me, Fred, considering that last time I saw you, you were shit-faced." You teased lightly, hugging the loud singer.

"Oh, hush, dear." He laughed before pressing a kiss to your cheek and waltzing back to the piano. Paul was glaring knives at your back as Freddie kissed your cheek.

"Oi, Bri, you gonna say hello or what? You were rude enough not to introduce yourself at Deacy's wedding." Rog called, distracting Brian from his guitar. Brian's eyes wandered to you and you felt yourself freeze. Brian couldn't drag his eyes away either. You were... gorgeous...Your eyes were shining brightly, despite the obvious jetlag lingering behind them. The growing smile on your lips made you look so innocent and child-like. He was awestruck.

"H-hello." You muttered, eyes locked on his.

"H-Hi." Brian choked out, a smile on his face as his eyes scanned your body.

"(Y/N), come over here! I need your opinion on this!"Deacy exclaimed from across the room. You shot Brian an apologetic look before dashing over to your brother. Brian watched your every move before a certain drummer took a seat next to him.

"Mate, you were proper ogling at her then!" Roger grinned in a hushed voice, Brian smacked his arm, shooting him a small glare.

"Fuck off." Brian huffed, his eyes falling back on you as you danced to the beat Deacy was playing.

Shall I stay? Would it be a sin If I can't help falling in love with you?

It had been about three months since you and Brian got together, about a year since you first properly met, and he'd been roped into helping you babysit your niece and nephews. He was very tense, considering that it'd been two days since his band had gotten into a huge dispute and broken up. You'd comforted him to the best of your ability but nothing seemed to help. You were shocked when Brian agreed to help take care of your family.

But yet here you were, your niece Laura curled into your side, your nephew Michael pressed into your other side as you cuddled Deacy's youngest, Joshua, to your chest. Robert was sprawled on Brian's lanky body, a sleepy smile on his fence. The children's eyes were glued to the tv and you watched the sleeping baby in your arms, gently running patterns on his skin with your finger. And Brian was fixated on you. He couldn't help but grin at the sight of you with three of Deacy's kids, your eyes holding so much love, he could practically feeling his heart burst. You glanced and caught Brian's eyes. You smiled, cheeks turning red and looked away shyly.

"It's, um, it's late. We should probably get these guys to bed. Can you take the boys to their room and I'll take Josh and Laura." You mumbled quickly, gently worming your way out of the two kids. Brian nodded silently, carefully placing Robert next to him on the couch, before standing up and picking Michael up, returning to the couch to pick up Robert. Laura had fallen to where you had been previously sitting, as you walked to the kitchen, placing the bottle of milk in the microwave, holding Joshua close to you, swaying lightly. Brian carried the boys upstairs, placing them in their beds, tucking the blankets to their chins.

"Thank you, Uncle Bri." Robert murmured quietly before drifting off. The curly-haired guitarist smiled slightly, before deciding to head back downstairs. Immediately after stepping foot into the kitchen, Brian felt his heart melt as you cradled Joshua to your chest, holding the back of his head lightly as he drank from the bottle. You looked up at your boyfriend and smiled bashfully.

"Hey." You whispered.

"Hi, love." He replied softly, leaning against the counter. Joshua took that as his cue to start screaming, breaking the peaceful silence. You sighed, placing the bottle back on the counter, shushing your nephew, bouncing him lightly. Brian watched in awe as you began quietening the boy, not quite sure how you did it. Soon, Joshua was fast asleep, face smushed against your shirt. You crept past Brian, carrying Joshua upstairs to his nursery. After about ten minutes, you returned downstairs, only to find Laura missing.

"I took her up, don't panic, love," Brian remarked from behind you. You spun on your heel to face your boyfriend before wandering over to him, being pulled into a warm hug.

"I'm so lucky to have you. I can't wait until we have kids." Brian confessed and you froze, grinning widely

"You imagine us with kids?" You questioned, resting your head under his neck.

"Of course I do. Just imagine a bright baby boy or girl with crazy curls and your beautiful eyes. They'll probably end up with their mother's mouth."Brian chuckled and you hit his chest.

"Fuck off." You giggled.

Like a river flows surely to the sea Darling, so it goes Some things are meant to be Take my hand, take my whole life too For I can't help falling in love with you  

When your boyfriend told you he'd be performing at Live Aid, you couldn't quite believe it. Yet here you were, showing your pass to the security, holding your two-year-old, Richard, on your hip. It would be the first time you saw Roger and Freddie for a long time. Security led you through the backstage area to Queen's small trailer, knocking on the door. Brian opened the door.

"Hi, love. Hey, little man." Brian exclaimed, pulling Brian from your arms and spinning him around. Richard laughed boyishly and you climbed into the trailer, shutting the door behind you. Freddie was gawking at your family. He'd never known that you and Brian had a kid. Hell, he didn't even know you were married.

"Richard, c'mere buddy!" Deacy exclaimed, smiling at his nephew, who stumbled over clumsily. Roger had a gentle smile on his face as Deacy lifted Richard onto his lap, pressing a loud, overdramatic kiss on his cheek.

"Hi, (Y/N). How have you been, love?" Roger asked as you sat next to him.

"I've been amazing, thank you, Rog. It's good to see you, Freddie." You smiled over at Freddie who waved, his other hand entwined with a man with a mustache similar to Freddie's.

"It's lovely to see you too, darling. This is Jim, my...my friend." Freddie stated, leaning forward slightly.

"Do want a cig, (Y/N)?"Roger offered, presenting a cigarette.

"I, um, I can't at the moment, thank you, Roger." You answered and Roger nodded before it clicked and his eyes widened.

"You're joking!" He exclaimed, tugging you into a hug. You grinned nodding enthusiastically.

"Congratulations, darling!!" Freddie said, standing up quickly and enveloping you into a hug as soon as Roger let you go.

"May, I thought I told you to stay away from my sister!" Deacy joked but hugged Brian quickly. Everyone quickly fell into conversation as Richard took a nap before the concert. Freddie had moved to sit next to you.

"So... I didn't know you and Brian got married." Freddie started, awkwardly.

"We- We aren't married. We weren't planning kids but then came Richard and now this little babe in my stomach." You told him, with a small shrug, placing a hand on your stomach.

"Richard is gorgeous. You did well." Freddie chuckled and you laughed quietly. He was exactly what Brian guessed him to be. Nearly. He had (Y/H/C) curly locks and bright Hazel eyes, chubby cheeks, but he was incredibly tall for his age( courtesy of his father).

"Thank you. Wanna know his full name?" You asked gently.

"Why not?" Freddie shrugged his eyes shining, with joy rather than drugs for once.

"Richard Freddie May" You confessed and Freddie leant back, his hands covering his face. You heard him sniff and, as he pulled his hands away from his face, you saw tears in the corner of his eyes.

"You used my name? After all, I've done?" Freddie's voiced cracked but he couldn't pull the smile off his face.

"Sure, you've fucked up a little, but you've always been there for me in the few years I've known you. You and the boys are like a family to me." You said and Freddie pulled you into another hug.

"Isn't Roger jealous that his name isn't there?" Freddie joked you chuckled.

"I promised him that if we have a girl, we're calling her Meadow." You replied.

"(Y/N)? Could I talk to you outside for a second?" Brian enquired and you nodded, kissing Freddie's cheek before walking outside where your boyfriend was waiting.

"I was planning on doing this later, but if I don't do it now, I'll back out." Brian began. You didn't even realize the boys were watching for the window. Brian suddenly pulled a ring from his pocket and got on one knee. You gasped, covering your mouth, tears falling from the corner of your eyes.

"(Y/N), from the minute I set eyes on you, I knew you would be the one for me. But I never expected for you to fall for me the way I fell for you. You mean so much to me and I want nothing else than to spend the rest of my days with you and with our children. So, (Y/N), will you marry me?" He asked and you nodded, unable to choke any words out. Bri shot to his feet and slid the ring onto your finger, pulling you into a kiss.

"About time!" Roger yelled as he opened the door, a sleeping Richard against his chest. You and Brian both pulled away.

"Fuck off!" You both snapped and everyone broke into laughter.

Take my hand, take my whole life too For I can't help falling in love with you For I can't help falling in love with you  

Tags:  @writingfortoomanyfandoms @queens-n-roses@yourealegendfred @fierce-bab @dusthas-beenbitten@silvver-rose @benhardyjones @bensroger 

(let me know if I’ve forgotten you or if you want to be added)

[thesinglesjukebox]

CARLY RAE JEPSEN - WANT YOU IN MY ROOM

[7.80]

Give a [10]! or a [4]! We don't care! Anymore! (actually we clearly do care)

Josh Winters: The sound of the heart set aflame. [10]

Tobi Tella: Oh my god. The synths, the sultriness, that goddamn HOOK. Dedicated had a lot of great and fun, pop music, but this comes out of left field in the best possible way. It's one of the most direct and sexy things, she'd ever done. Is this what gay heaven feels like? [10]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Big "looks-up-grinning-like-the-devil" energy: when CRJ sings, "I wanna do bad things to you," the mischief is both inexplicably sweet and dirty. [8]

Michael Hong: "Want You In My Room" might be Carly Rae Jepsen at her horniest, but it's also Jack Antonoff at his least restrained, together making something that's thrillingly giddy. Carly Rae Jepsen drops some of those thinly disguised hints for more straight-forward temptations, coming across as intense where Dedicated erred more towards tepid. There's still room for coyness, with the distorted "want you in my room" bashfully buried in the mix and the way Jepsen's voice brazenly glides across the instrumental on the line "slide on through my window." But most importantly, "Want You In My Room" feels completely uninhibited and absolutely freeing as Carly Rae Jepsen delivers any line with as much of a wink as she desires. [9]

Kayla Beardslee: Pure joy. [9]

Edward Okulicz: Every song that goes by, I find myself enraged by how average I find the average Carly Rae Jepsen to be, and I'm not entirely sure that I'm not jealous of the euphoria she inspires in others. But honestly, she's no Vengaboys, let alone a Paul Lekakis; I believe Jepsen, but I don't buy her abandon. [4]

Alfred Soto: With Dedicated proving an ephemeral listen, "Want You in My Room" does a professional job as any discrete track at isolating her strengths: finding a hook for any title and singing as if any doggerel were Heidegger. The outro sax wipes the smear of the redundant vocoder, suggesting other paths that the arrangement avoids. [4]

Kylo Nocom: Given the runtime and production choices, one would think somebody had went out and decided to parody the style of Emotion with its Wikipedia article and five hours to complete the task. "Want You in My Room" slightly lacks sophistication in both songwriting and in aesthetic: it feels like half of the song is missing by the time the track decides to fade out, and the wonky percussion/clean guitars/fucking SAX are rather ungraceful signifiers of '80s kitschiness, as if hints were taken from Carly's turn with the Fuller House theme song. These tiny grievances immediately disappear once those robot-voices and shouts burst out, an exercise between restraint and shamelessness that's completely undeniable. I didn't register that the vocoded voices were actually saying anything the first few times I heard this, let alone the title, but it's quite sly how that turned out: the most explicit demand of the hook is obscured, leaving "I wanna do bad things to you!" which beats around the bush a tiny bit (thankfully, less embarrassingly than Camila) and additionally gleeful cheers before that lovely inquiry of "baby, don't you want me too?". I'm still frustrated this ends so quickly, but even this doesn't matter when it's the Carly song I've been using to soundtrack the crush-anxiety interludes of my life. Really, this could cut off after the first chorus and still be more exciting than nearly every other song on Dedicated. [8]

Joshua Lu: It's tempting to draw connections between Emotion and everything Carly Rae Jepsen has done since Emotion -- thematically, her work hasn't evolved much since 2015, with her primary concern being PG-13 depictions of love and heartbreak. But Emotion's portrayal of affection was grandiose and imposing, fit for blasting out the windows of your car as you get lost in the streets of LA, while Dedicated's take feels distinctly slighter and more intimate. "Want You In My Room" takes more of its cues from Kiss, if anything -- even overlooking the disco tinges and how that was the first time she worked with Jack Antonoff, Kiss employed intimate lyricism that could verge at times on the diaristic, with songs like "Turn Me Up" and "Curiosity." The song's title, conveyed through Antonoff's phalanx of robots, renders that closeness literally, but that intimacy comes through metaphorically as well, especially with that quintessentially Carly-esque grotesque lyric of "press you to the pages of my heart" and that absolutely filthy request to "slide on through my window." I'll always prefer this mode of Carly, whose depictions of carnal affection feel more genuine and evocative when she's cooing them in your ear instead of bellowing them to the world. Even the outro works for me; the music video helps to explicate that her lover has finally made it to her room, and the bleating saxophone becomes an aural metaphor of whatever the two of them are doing, now that the song has accomplished its purpose. [10]

Will Adams: The discourse around Jack Antonoff and his status as the supposed ingenue behind female pop stars' critical reappraisal is exhausting, mostly because it ignores my biggest gripe with it: the production is bad. As we've seen before, his penchant for vocoders sinks the songs and, in this case, the entire chorus. The rest is his typical beige, vaguely '80s, vaguely '90s, vaguely everything feel, as if those "Dreams" guitars haven't been done better elsewhere. Carly's not off the hook either, with lyrics as empty as "press you to the pages of my heart." The sax riffing at the end would have been nice had it not resulted in a fade-out, which only serves to let you know that no one involved bothered to write a bridge. [4]

Joshua Copperman: That post-chorus is peak Carly - her songs are best when they're anxious but sensual, innocent but winking. But that's the problem with this song, content to be an E*MO*TION throwback when the best cuts on Dedicated ("I'll Be Your Girl," "Everything He Needs") push her sound forward in ways that still remain consistent with her past. Antonoff's on autopilot, lifting his own Tom Petty rip from "Don't Take The Money" for his usual mix of 80s and non-80s signifiers. Singles Jukebox editor and writer Katherine St. Asaph's issue with Dedicated was that Carly didn't play to her fanbase enough. This goes too much in the other direction giving the gays exactly what they want but nothing more. That doesn't mean it's bad, but it's too slight when Carly's beloved for her maximalism. [6]

Andy Hutchins: Fun, frivolous, brisk, and brief in the way so many great pop songs are, and a better spiritual successor to "Africa" in 2019 than Weezer actually covering it. But I will admit that listening to the potential [3] or [15] that would have been CRJ riffing on Rye Rye's spin on Vengaboys was deeply distracting. [7]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: "Want You In My Room" is the worst kind of song to write about: so self-evidently joyful and skilled in every aspect (those synths!! that sax solo!!) that it's hard to point at any one thing to analyze. Is it enough to just say that the song is the best execution of crush pop in the catalog of an artist who is the queen of crush pop? Is it enough to say that I listen to the song in the shower and my morning walk to class? Is it enough to say that this song (and really, the whole starting run of Dedicated) is an excellent soundtrack to a roadtrip with the one you love? I don't know, and I don't quite know how to express how good it is that Carly Rae Jepsen is around and making music like this, but I hope this helps. [10]

Jackie Powell: Carly Rae Jepsen knows her base just as well as she knows herself. All of the elements of "Want You in My Room" confirm that."...And I'll press you to the pages of my heart" in the pre-chorus proves how Jepsen simultaneously views love and her music. She loves fantasy and probably adores fanfiction (Does anyone have confirmation on this?) "I think I like when people look at music from a way that's this childlike magical thing that happens to us," she said at Electric Lady Studios recording her Spotify singles session. She has made it her brand for the nerds who love love--but struggle to capture it-- feel at home with the awkwardness and desire that they feel inside. Jack Antonoff knows how to extrapolate Jepsen's inner feelings and give them a sound; the track begins with three different percussive loops which symbolize the racing heartbeat of sexual and romantic excitement. The aforementioned Spotify session version of the cut further echoes the idea that this song is an orgy that would take place at a campfire for young adults. (I guess I just described Woodstock. Imagine Woodstock in 2019...oh wait.) She proves once again that both fantasy and desire are natural and shouldn't be a source of any shame. [8]

Vikram Joseph: There's probably not much that my 11-year-old self has in common with me right now. But I remember getting up an hour before school to listen to the radio, and the way that I would lose myself in pop music and it would carry me through the day, painting the cyclical banalities of breaktime and double chemistry in weird, vivid colours that I didn't fully understand back then. And it's not so different to the way that I respond to it now; the way that caffeine and Dedicated made my commute shimmer and glow on sticky mornings this summer. For me, "Want You In My Room" has been the album's febrile, halcyon peak from the start - a high-camp maximalist fantasia of love and lust, the rare ecstasy of uncomplicated desire played out in a technicolour dreamscape of synths, vocoders and sax solos. It took four months for it to acquire a music video, but there must have already been a million existing in our imaginations, us as the stars, cameras panning as we walk down streets as flamboyantly as our queer little hearts dare to. It's garish, sugary and barely sounds real, and that's fine - because great pop is escapist, always has been and always will be, and "Want You In My Room" makes me believe I can have it all (even if it's fake). [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[subasekabang]

Death of the Author

Author: Leasspell Dael Rating: T Word Count: ~11,500 Pairings/Characters: Pre-Neku/Minamimoto; Neku, Minamimoto, Rhyme, Beat, Shiki, Joshua, Hanekoma Warnings: Canon-Typical Discussion of Death, Depression, Swearing/Profanity

Summary: The Game is over, Neku and his new friends are alive, and Shibuya is still kicking. Trauma doesn't fade that quickly though and Neku struggles to process everything he went through--everything he learned. No matter how much he hangs out with his friends and tries to enjoy his new life, there's a darkness inside him he's desperate to hide.

Found-object art starts cropping up all over Shibuya, and Neku's pretty sure he's seen Minamimoto out of the corner of his eyes in the crowds. With Joshua and Mr. Hanekoma MIA, this might be Neku's one chance to get closure.

The question: is Neku willing to risk a meeting with the Reaper to settle old ghosts?

Neku keeps going back.

To Hachiko. The Scramble Crossing. Ten-Four. CAT's mural.

He keeps going back, and Neku doesn't know why. It's not just the incidental travels when he's going about Shibuya with his friends; he wanders at night when he can't sleep--

no timer no blankness no missing-time

--when he's alone and has no goals besides the passing of time.

He keeps going back.

He keeps seeing ghosts.

Not real ghosts; not Reapers or Players or Noise. Just--

777's collar spinning to a stop on the ground flowers under an overpass a small café littered with broken glass

--memories and nightmares; the souvenirs of a game he never asked to play.

Sometimes Neku visits the landmarks with purpose. Hachiko to meet up with Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme. CAT's mural in Udagawa to talk at Joshua. Shops where he's built relationships with the employees. Each visit part of his efforts to reconcile the Shibuya of his past with the Shibuya of the Game with the Shibuya he now lives in.

Some days he backslides; puts on his headphones and shuts out the world. He's not a saint, and change is hard. Some days Neku lives so thoroughly in the present, he can forget when he was alone; can forget when every day was a shot of adrenaline that never stopped.

Some days he checks his phone incessantly for a mission that will never appear and scratches at his hand to soothe an itch from a timer that will never count down to zero.

Given all of this bullshit scrambling his brains as he tries to survive one day after the other, Neku thinks he can be forgiven for thinking Sho Minamimoto was a figment of his imagination.

The truth started with a bullet.

Fucking Joshua.

CRACK his backside meets the asphalt it feels like there's cotton in his ears somehow he still hears...

"Blew it..."

"Ew; that's tacky."

"I think it's kinda creative. A commentary on our consumerist society; both judging and part-of..."

Neku looked up from where Beat was showing him a skateboard trick. In theory Rhyme was showing Shiki the same thing, but it sounded like they'd gotten distracted.

Across the plaza, sat a heap of junk. Not the towering monstrosities that Pi-Face had left littered around the UG in Neku's second week, but a person-shaped sculpture of found objects, wagging a scolding finger at the viewer.

It was similar enough to make the blood drain from Neku's face though. Beat just scowled.

"Maybe," Shiki conceded, face still twisted in a grimace. Looking over to the boys, mouth opened to say something--ask them for backup maybe--she came to a complete stop. Her eyes widened a fraction, before she glanced over her shoulder at the abomination.

Face hardening, Shiki scooped up her board in one arm and looped arms with Rhyme using her other, dragging them both over to Neku and Beat.

"Let's bounce; Towa Records has a sale on today I didn't want to miss."

Neku wasn't sure why he always went to CAT's mural in Udagawa whenever he wanted to talk to Joshua. He'd tried visiting the sewer access to the Composer's lair, but in the RG it was nothing but a storm drain. It didn't feel like anything special, except that his memories told him otherwise.

The Cat Café remained closed, though its insides were pristine when viewed through the window.

Minamimoto's rampage had occurred in the UG after all.

With the café closed, Neku had no way to contact Mr. Hanekoma; no way to reach out to Josh. Their numbers were no longer in his phone.

So he'd wandered over to Udagawa, crossing through alleys until he found CAT's last mural.

The paint was already beginning to peel--CAT had always made his murals transitory, but usually something new would crop up before the old one disappeared--but Neku still found comfort in it. He ran his hand along the wall, chips of paint flicking off with his progress, taking in the details that had yet to fade. Living in the moment.

Until his hand hit a pit in the concrete.

Jarred back into reality, Neku looked at the imperfection in the wall and felt his blood run cold.

It was a bullet-hole.

Suddenly, Neku was back in the moment of his death as Joshua loomed above him, gun pointed straight at Neku's heart--

--except, that didn't make sense.

Whipping around, Neku saw the spot where he had lain all those weeks ago. It was meters away. Wandering over, there was a matching bullet hole in the asphalt.

Returning to the wall, he ran his hand lightly over the imperfection.

"So where did you come from, then?" Joshua had only needed one bullet to take Neku out.

Then again, they hadn't been alone in the alley that day.

I blew it...

And Neku wasn't the only one who was shot.

Beat was fretting.

In any other circumstance, Neku would probably take the opportunity to tease his friend mercilessly. Beat took such pride in his 'tough man' attitude, that the mother-henning was a little adorable.

But it was about Rhyme, and for their group that would probably always make such teasing too soon.

Specifically, it was about Rhyme's ambitions. Or lack-thereof.

"But she has all of her memories back, right?" Shiki asked quietly.

Snorting, Beat crossed his arms defensively across his chest, kicking at a pebble as they wandered by A-East. "She knows things I forgot 'bout. She's still as smart--as skilled--as she's always been.

"Just... she's not doin' anything with it anymore. Tags along with me more often than not."

Unlike Shiki and Neku whose friends-groups pre-Game had been, respectively, small and non-existent, Beat had a large group of connections he spent time with, and Rhyme had had her own. While Beat had made the effort to reconnect with his other friends, Rhyme hadn't.

Apparently, she hadn't been doing much of anything.

Today was a rare day where she was separated from Beat's side by a group project she was doing for school, and Beat had wasted no time bringing his concerns to them.

"It just don't make no sense! Rhyme always had a million million things she was lookin' to do. Didn't have time for it all. We'd havta plan times to skateboard together just to make sure we had time to do it! Did... Did something go wrong?"

When they were brought back, Beat meant. When Rhyme was restored.

"She's been through an ordeal, Beat. We all have. And she's the youngest of all of us," Shiki was explaining gently, her hand lightly placed on Beat's forearm where the boy was clutching his hat in frustration. "If she's a bit clingy for a while, that's to be expected."

Neku followed along behind them, silently thinking that Shiki was wrong.

Well, not that Shiki was wrong. Shiki was absolutely right.

But Beat was too.

Neku feared that Rhyme wasn't going to get better, like Shiki was claiming would happen with time.

"I really admire how he has a goal and is giving his all to reach it! I wish I had something like that..."

"Rhyme was always the one with dreams and ambitions. I just said that thing about being the best skater so she'd stop looking so lost..."

"You fool! Her memories weren't her entry fee-- They were yours!"

Rhyme didn't get her entry fee back. Neku got his memories and Shiki back, Shiki her appearance, and Beat got Rhyme's memories. They were all brought back to life, but only Rhyme's fee had been kept.

Why? Because even though she was brought back, she had lost?

"Your entry fee has already been collected."

And what did that mean for Neku, who won every Game except for the last?

Still, Neku didn't know anything for sure. No point is upsetting Beat more than he was.

10-4 had one of Pi-face's statues sitting in front of it.

Shiki made a face as she dragged a snarling Beat into the shopping centre. Beat needed 'something nice' to wear to an interview for a part-time job and had made the mistake of mentioning this in Shiki's hearing. Neku kept strategically silent to prevent her focus from shifting onto him. Rhyme was giggling over their antics, which was always a win.

The statue caught Rhyme's attention, so Neku paused with her, grimacing slightly at it.

The core of it had once been a shopping cart--maybe two of them--but the wires had been beaten and reworked into a vaguely human shape. The framework was then papered-over with shopping bags from all the different stores in the centre.

It was trash and an eyesore, but at least it wasn't a literal heap of garbage like they had been in the UG.

"We are what we consume..." Rhyme murmured, her outstretched hand gliding over the contours of the shape, never quite touching. Hovering over an oddly placed wheel sticking out from a shoulder, she finally made contact, sending the wheel spinning before stepping back to observe it as a whole. "Do we move society, or does society move us?"

Neku looked at the statue, and just saw trash. "You really get all of that from this?"

Despite Beat's concerns about her ambition, Rhyme didn't seem unhappy. In fact, she turned to Neku with a beaming smile. "Oh yes! The artist has put so much passion into their work. They must have a lot of drive to be making so many in such a short amount of time!"

Plenty of time when you're dead, Neku supposed. "Sounds like you're a fan."

A blush dusted her cheeks, but Rhyme didn't look down or ashamed of her enthusiasm. Instead, she elbowed Neku in the ribs, a teasing grin twitching her lips. "Kinda like how you feel about CAT, right?"

CAT...

Mr. Hanekoma...

CAT's artwork was a major inspiration for Neku. Even back when he was too self-absorbed to actualize the message, he'd felt it:

Seize The Day.

During the Games, Mr. Hanekoma had been Neku's rock, the one person he trusted to lay out the rules and show him how to navigate the challenges.

Until the last week.

Why had Mr. Hanekoma been helping Pi-face? If he was helping Minamimoto, why was he there when Josh shot him the second time?

Why had he looked so gleeful?

To say Neku's feelings about CAT were complicated was an understatement.

Much like his feelings for Joshua.

"Yeah," he confirmed to Rhyme, not wanting to voice his thoughts out loud. "CAT's a big inspiration for me. Do you think you'd want to do something like these... things?"

The world went quiet.

Rhyme's eyes widened before she hunched in slightly, darting her eyes over to the Consumerist Nightmare that had so caught her attention. The blush on her cheeks deepened.

"Do... do you think I could?" she asked, a tremor in her voice Neku didn't think he'd ever heard from her before.

Oh god, do something better

Choose something more meaningful

Why would you want to

Neku squashed all of the negative thoughts. It didn't matter what he thought.

"Of course," he told her, slinging an arm around her shoulders in a half-hug. "Draft your brother into helping with any heavy-lifting, though, y'hear?"

Beat would complain vociferously over the next few weeks about Rhyme collecting trash and junk, but underneath it all Neku and Shiki could hear his relief. She was no longer aimlessly following him around, often co-opting his assistance even if he'd had other plans.

Rhyme had a dream again. And that was worth everything to Beat.

It gave Neku hope that whatever had been stolen from him was something he could gain back.

Now he just needed to figure out whatever that was.

It was fragile.

Sitting in the middle of the back-alley with CAT's last mural was another one of Minamimoto's things.

A ceramic bowl, attached to a collection of glass bottles wired together in a mass that was leaned against a squashed bean-bag chair, more bottles chained together on each side to create four sprawled limbs.

And to add insult to injury, it was all topped with a mop-head that had been dyed orange, with a set of earphones over the top of that.

Walking into the alley to see this perverse caricature of himself in the worst moment of his life...

The world stopped.

No chirping birds or humming cicadas. No traffic or conversation from the street.

Everything became that... that... Abomination!

Neku's blood rushed in his ears, and he clenched his fists at his sides, knuckles white. His palm itched. He couldn't catch his breath.

On the ground was a chunk of concrete. Neku didn't remember picking it up. Neku did remember throwing it.

Shattering glass sounds nothing like the crack of a gunshot, but somehow the two became linked in Neku's mind. The rock went straight through the "torso" and somehow Neku had just become complicit in his own death.

Blood spread out from his corpse and all Neku could see was Joshua's smirk and Hanekoma's mirth, and why were they taking joy in this? Wasn't it enough that he couldn't do what had to be done?

"For fuck's sake."

The Composer's throne room faded away, and Neku was back in the gritty reality of the back-alleys of Udagawa. Shattered glass was at his feet, and red liquid spilled from the broken bottles.

From the smell of it, it was paint.

And standing at it's head, a bundle of cloth under one arm, was the Grim Heaper himself, scowling at Neku as if he were the scum beneath his feet.

"You've completely screwed up the order of operations here, yoctogram. Breaking the glass was supposed to happen after it was clothed." He tossed the bundle to the side in frustration. "Do you have any idea how much your petty vandalism has upset my precisely calculated schedule? Just... just scram. I've got numbers to crunch."

And then Minamimoto crouched down, poking at the thing's torso, checking to see what was salvageable from his little arts-and-crafts project.

Never mind that the real thing was standing right in front of him. Neku was dismissed as if he were nothing.

Sometimes Neku felt like he was nothing.

(Sometimes that was a relief, not having the weight of Shibuya's fate on his shoulders, and sometimes it made him mad, because he was a person and he mattered.)

Neku stalked past Minamimoto, kicked the head off the 'statue' (which also shattered and leaked red paint against the back wall of one of the businesses backing on the alley), reached the mural and laid his palms against it trying to ground himself.

He was alive. He wasn't on a timer. He wasn't in the Game. Shiki was safe. Rhyme and Beat were safe. Shibuya was safe.

Kitaniji was an asshole. Joshua was an asshole. Hanekoma was an asshole. Fucking Minamimoto was an asshole.

"Woah woah woah there, kid!"

A hand around his wrist, and a jerk as Neku's arm's momentum halted. Neku stared blankly at the wall, at the flecks of paint slowly detaching and falling to the ground or blown away by the wind.

He fist pulsed with his heartbeat, and now there really was blood. When had he started punching the wall?

"Got some anger issues there, I see. You done dividing by zero?"

Neku jerked his wrist out of Minamimoto's grasp with a snarl before twisting to put his back to the wall and sliding down, bloody hand cradled to his chest, head buried in his knees.

"Fuck off."

The last thing Neku expected was for Pi-face to sit down next to him, looking uncertain.

"Not exactly a safe neighborhood, kid. Why don'tcha go home already?"

"Fuck you."

"Yes," Neku could hear the eye-roll. "We've established your masterful proficiency with our language. Chop, chop. Time's a wasting. Go home. Fix up your hand. Stop your delinquent ways. Yada yada yada."

But Neku didn't budge. Just closed his eyes and let tears he didn't even realize he'd been suppressing finally flow. They were silent, and pulsed with the same beat he could feel in his injured hand.

Proof he was alive.

"You really don't recognize me, do you? Did Joshua mind-wipe you or something?" Neku's voice was thick with his tears and muffled by his knees, but somehow still understandable.

And Neku knew it was understandable because Minamimoto, who hadn't been moving much anyway, suddenly went completely still.

The was a heavy silence. Then...

"Are you telling me," and Minamimoto's voice was dripping with dark menace, "That the Composer actually brought you and your little friends back and didn't erase your memories?"

So Minamimoto did recognize him.

"Why did you think your little re-enactment pissed me off so much?" Neku finally raised his head from his knees to make sure Minamimoto got the full brunt of his sardonic expression.

What he got in return was a shifty, uncomfortable look and arms crossed defensively across the reaper's chest.

"Always a chance there was a hidden remainder. I figured the Composer would've included a compulsion to stay away from here along with the memory suppression so it's not like I ever expected you to see it. Barely anyone ever comes back here. I wasn't really expecting anyone to see it."

Then what was the point?

Muttering something under his breath, Minamimoto got up and retrieved the bundle of cloth--clothes--that he'd tossed aside earlier before returning back to Neku's side, sitting down with a little 'oof'. Neku watched him lazily, cheek pressed against his knees. Anger still simmered within him, but he wasn't sure he still had the energy to do anything about it.

"Why did you get to live when people like 777, Nao-Nao, and Sota didn't?"

Minamimoto didn't so much as twitch, just grabbed the shirt from the center of the bundle and started tearing a strip off of it.

"Gimme your hand."

Neku didn't budge.

Rolling his eyes, Minamimoto reached into the cavern of Neku's hunched body and gently grabbed his wrist again, drawing it out from where it had been sheltered against Neku's chest.

The pain was beginning to hit, spots all over his hand stinging as they were exposed to the air. Without a word, Minamimoto began wrapping Neku's hand in the makeshift bandage. For someone whose very existence filled Neku with a rush of adrenaline, flood of anger, and inappropriate grief, his hands were surprisingly gentle as he tied the cloth off in a small knot.

"Seriously, clean and disinfect when you get home. Don't want to kick it over an easily preventable infection now, do we?"

"You could have destroyed Shibuya with those Taboo Noise... Of all the people Josh could have brought back, why did it have to be you?" Neku's voice was thready with exhaustion and grief and pain. Nothing made sense since Joshua shot him.

A sneer was the last thing Neku expected in response, though, not after his non-response earlier. Minamimoto stood up, brushing off his pants from sitting on the ground.

Half-turned to walk away, Pi-face stopped and looked back at Neku.

"If you think possibly destroying Shibuya was a point against me in that fight, you forgot which side you were playing for."

Then he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked away.

Neku did wind up with a slight infection in his hand from where he'd smashed his knuckles against the wall over and over again. Luckily, it cleared up without needing to go to the doctor, but it drew attention from his parents.

"Maybe you'd like to get into some kind of martial arts? Learn how to throw a punch properly?" Mom asked him.

"We might want to consider making an appointment with a therapist for him..." Mama murmured quietly to Mom when she thought he couldn't hear.

Nothing came of either suggestion, but it reminded him that his parents cared. Even if they didn't know what had happened to him during those three weeks he was missing.

Then again, these days Neku wasn't even sure if he knew what happened during those three weeks.

He hadn't been fighting for anything except for his life and then Shiki's life. He wasn't part of Joshua and Minamimoto's pissing contest.

He wasn't.

Of course, that didn't mean he hadn't been affected by it.

And Joshua had gotten his final chuckle at Neku's expense.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

Neku just wanted to be done already. He'd played this Game. He'd played it three fucking times. He'd chosen his soul over a guaranteed victory. He'd trusted that little fucker, no matter how often it turned out he'd completely screwed Neku over. Neku wasn't even allowed to play this game any more. Was this his punishment? To play the Game over and over until the Noise finally finally erased him?

Except people didn't walk by unseeing, ignorant of Neku's pain in their midst. Of his confusion.

People jumped away from him in shock at his yell. People looked at him--in concern, in irritation, in fear.

People touched him.

An arm around his shoulders guiding him out of traffic before the lights changed when he just stood there, gaping. Hands on his face, tilting his head back as paramedics checked his pupil dilation after an ambulance was called because he'd curled up into a little ball and wouldn't stop shaking.

Hands strapping him onto a gurney for the ride to the hospital.

He was checked over by concerned medical professionals.

No sign of head trauma. No concussion. Did you take something, kid? No sign of drugs. No signs of abuse or injuries of any kind.

Police officers with questions. What's your name son? Do you have any ID? No. He'd left it at home when he'd sulked out of the house... three weeks ago? Longer? Do you know your parents' numbers?

And finally, finally, Mom and Mama had swept in and grabbed onto him and cried and cried and cried. They were so relieved. Do you know how worried we've been? Where have you been? Are you okay? Don't scare us like this!

For the first time in three weeks he'd felt safe. They could scare away the monsters from under his bed and lurking in the closet. They would guard his sleep.

And that's what Neku did at that point. Just dropped off into an exhausted slumber, with no reaction but a few tired tears escaping his eyes.

When he'd woken up, he'd gotten the gist of what had happened in his absence.

The police had dismissed his parents' concerns, classifying him as a runaway. He'd turn up eventually, they said. (And he had.) Mom and Mama had been plastering the neighbourhood with missing posters, and with each day that passed they feared that they'd be finding a body instead of their son healthy and whole.

(Neku never told them how often he slipped away to Shibuya, so much that it felt like his real home, not the quiet suburb they lived in. Neku had to scour newspapers to discover that his body had been labeled a John Doe and his... death... was still an open investigation. Neku might have a pauper's grave out there somewhere. He's afraid to go looking.)

Neku apologizes over and over for running off that morning, for forgetting his wallet and phone, for taking so long to come home.

He claims he got overwhelmed and then got lost in his own head. Tells them about haunting the streets of Shibuya (figuratively). About making friends who helped him get to the point where he could reach out for help; helped him be ready to come home.

They went as family to therapy for a few sessions, but Neku refused to get into any details about his three weeks away. He just wanted to put it behind him, he claimed.

Neku knew telling the truth would just make things worse. So he kept his silence. Even among Shiki, Beat, and Rhyme they didn't talk about the Game much. So all of Neku's feelings about it were kept buried deep inside, a festering wound he didn't even realize he had.

Until he met Minamimoto in that alley.

It turned out found-object sculpting wasn't Rhyme's niche.

"She says she just doesn't feel it," Beat groused to Neku where they were watching Shiki teach Rhyme about different types of fabrics. "Decided she wants to give quilting a try."

"At least you'll get some warm blankets out of it," Neku said dutifully. In truth, he thought it was great that Shiki was getting a chance to share her passion with someone new. Shiki and Eri were working on restoring trust between each other after the miscommunication that had sent Shiki careening into Shibuya's streets, but it was complicated by Shiki's guilt over stealing her friend's persona during the Game. Which Eri didn't--and couldn't--know about. Things were still awkward between them.

"Don't see why she couldn't have figured it out before I hadta drag garbage all around town..." Arms crossed over his chest in indignation, Beat slumped against the wall emphasize his disgruntlement. Neku suppressed his amusement, simply nodding as-if in agreement. It was Neku's job to be appropriately supportive. Not an asshole. Besides, Beat didn't really mind.

"At least we know for sure now she doesn't want to be the next Grim Heaper."

Right. Minamimoto.

There were still a scattering of scabs on his hand, healing slowed by the infection he'd gotten from not disinfecting his cuts right away. Neku rubbed them absently, remembering the strangely gentle way Minamimoto had held his hand while wrapping it.

"Beat... What were we fighting for?" Beat's grumbling went silent. Across the store, Neku could still hear Rhyme and Shiki chatting excitedly, unaffected by the bombshell that Neku had just dropped. The line he had just crossed.

They didn't talk about the Game. Not really. Not directly.

They didn't talk about the Game, but they might recommend a store or store-clerk. Might talk about a shortcut, or a piece of Shibuya trivia. They'd never ask one another where they had learned about these things. Shibuya was precious to them, but the Game was to be left behind and forgotten.

They were supposed to be moving on.

"To live--for Rhyme; for Shiki."

That's right. That's what Neku had always thought. Beat knew it, had sounded sure about it. Why was Neku suddenly full of doubts?

"If you think possibly destroying Shibuya was a point against me in that fight, you forgot which side you were playing for."

Neku hesitated before speaking. It was probably just Pi-face playing mind games. Like leaving them to hang all week. Or that fucking statue of his.

But.

"...Was that all? Are we sure there wasn't something else?"

Darting his eyes over to check on the girls and seeing they were undisturbed, Beat grabbed Neku by the elbow and dragged him outside.

"The hell's going on with you? What else would we have been fighting for? Isn't the right to live enough?"

Jerking his arm out of Beat's grip, Neku scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Shut up. I know. It's just... How did we fit into that fucking bet?"

Now Beat looked at him as if he were crazy. "What bet? What's goin' on, Neku?"

Neku began to pace back and forth on the street in front of the shop. "What do you remember about the last day, Beat? After you snapped Shiki out of the brain-washing and caught up to me."

Because beyond his perplexing question about Neku's own role in the Game, Minamimoto had said something else interesting that Neku had merely dismissed at the time: that the Composer should have erased their memories. Neku had thought that was just Joshua being his usual contrary and dismissive self; but what if he had tampered with their memories? What if the reason they didn't talk about the Game was because they were compelled not to?

Brow furrowing, Beat scratched at the peach fuzz on his chin absently as he thought back. "Well, there weren't much time to see anything before Shades snatched us all up as part of his 'final boss' routine. We stomped him, then me an' Rhyme were waking up in the hospital, at the end of our 'recovery' from the accident. Was downright eerie how there wuz paperwork and everything from a long-ass stay we didn't even really do... Had cards from classmates and bunches of flowers..." Beat shuddered.

Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

They'd arrived after Josh's grand entrance and had Josh's gloating and final showdown erased.

At least they don't have to remember me getting shot...

"But you remember how messed up the Game was when we were playing, right? All the rules the Reapers were breaking?"

Lips thinning, Beat nodded and said nothing else.

"And didn't you think it was weird how you never got to see the Composer while you were a Reaper yourself?"

A gusty sigh. "Neku, I was small fry. 'Sides, Shades seemed to be running the show, if you ask me. Not sure how much work the Composer actually does."

"Kitaniji was running the Game. The Composer wanted to erase the Game and start over, or something, so Kitaniji made a bet with him--with Shibuya as the stakes. Without the Composer around, the rules started breaking down," a realization came to Neku, "Just as the fucker wanted to begin with. Argh." Another anxious scrub of Neku's hands through his hair. "If Kitaniji erased us, he won and got to keep Shibuya as it is. If the Composer won, he'd erase everything."

"Shit."

"Yeah."

Beat slumped back against the wall. Through the store window, Neku could see the girls paying for their purchases at the register.

"So we'd've lost no matter what? Live and Shibuya dies. Die and Shibuya lives." Now Beat was scratching his head through his hat. "Wait a second, though. We're here, and Shibuya's here. How'd that happen?"

Through a mad man's twisted whims. Except Neku had just realized a flaw in his explanation to Beat; a memory brought back to the surface merely by talking about the event. Kitaniji didn't have to kill all of them--that was just the most efficient way to make sure he eliminated the Composer's

Proxy.

Neku. Neku was the only one who'd needed to die.

Or...

"I blew it...

...Not die in the first place.

Beat was trying to get his attention, trying to get the rest of the explanation, but Neku was lost in his own head.

More and more memories were pouring back. Minamimoto came to the alley that day trying to shoot the Composer in his weakened form--or so Josh claimed. Joshua also claimed that he would destroy Shibuya if Neku didn't shoot him and take his place. But Neku was supposed to trust his partner and he had and Shibuya had lived; they all had lived--even Rhyme who had legitimately lost but had been Neku's saving grace in the end...

Back it up. Minamimoto had shot at the Composer and had done so in the UG. Was it because Joshua truly was weaker there? Or Minamimoto just thought he was weaker there then proved wrong when Josh stopped the bullets. Or...

Or had he only decided to take the shot as Joshua lined up his own?

Rush of footsteps Neku turns Joshua running straight for him Gun rising Bullet flies past Neku's cheek Neku collapses "I blew it..." Looks behind Minamimoto with an arm graze Second gun raised Six shots A raised hand Tinkle as they hit the ground Minamimoto runs away Joshua takes aim at Neku supine on the ground and...

Josh had waited until the last minute to choose his proxy; Neku had checked the dates. He'd been 'missing' for three weeks and two days. One day to die; one day to be found; 21 days to play. Or perhaps there had been another proxy for the first week who had failed and Neku was the replacement.

If Josh had failed to provide a proxy, that was one less week where he had an opportunity to win. One less chance for Shibuya being destroyed.

Minamimoto had taken a huge risk when he'd summoned the Taboo Noise, but he might have thought it was worth it if it stopped the Composer from playing with all of their lives.

But why was Hanekoma playing both sides? None of this made any--

"NEKU!!"

"Gwaaah~"

"How the hell is Shibuya still here if we are too?"

Maybe it was selfish, but Neku didn't want to correct Beat that it was actually just Neku who had been the problem. Neku didn't want to be in this alone. Didn't want to reveal the final game where Neku had taken a leap of faith, uncertain if there was anything below to catch him if he was wrong.

So he shrugged. "Whims of a madman is my guess. Maybe the Composer changed his mind."

The girls came out then, and the subject was dropped.

If I'd killed Shiki and then been erased myself, Shibuya wouldn't have been in danger...

It was a dark thought, but Neku was in a dark mood. Mama had wanted them to go on a family trip to Hokkaido during summer break, but Neku had protested the idea of leaving all of his friends behind. He'd only just made them, after all.

"It's only for a couple of weeks, Neku," she'd informed him crossly after he'd objected yet again to the idea. "They'll still be here when you get back."

But would they? He was pretty sure they wouldn't purposefully abandon him, but Neku was painfully aware of how fickle life itself could be. None of them had planned on dying, but it had happened without their consent all the same.

He'd stormed out of the house without a word--though not before grabbing his wallet with his ID in it on the way out--and begun stalking the streets of Shibuya. His headphones were jammed over his ears and he was barely taking in his surroundings at all.

Neku was unprepared for a sudden presence grabbing his arm and the disorientation as sound from the world around him crashed back in.

"--KU!! Are you okay?"

Oh. It was Rhyme; Rhyme who had grabbed his arm with one hand and then used her other to dislodge his 'phones.

Working his mouth, Neku tried to force out some kind of appeasement to clear the worry on her face, but no sound emerged except a strangled whimper which only caused her brow to crease further.

Rhyme released his arm in favour of grabbing Neku's hand instead and Neku held on with a death-grip. They were near the underpass where she and Beat had had their original accident. He didn't want her to get hurt. She'd been hurt enough.

small creature light and fragile stronger than him and beat combined last ally when konishi attacked comforting weight on neku's left shoulder

But whenever they needed to cross an intersection, Rhyme would bring them both to a stop and hold his hand a little tighter while they waited for the light to change.

I wonder if she has nightmares about Beat running into traffic, like Beat has nightmares about her following him there...

Despite any issues she might have, Rhyme moved with purpose, getting him out of the streets where his inattention could do him harm.

"Welcome to Sunshine!"

So they ordered burgers and sat down to eat in silence. As they ate, Neku moved from appreciative of the silence to antsy about it. The world was beginning to encroach in on him again and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it yet.

"My parents want to go away for break."

Rhyme's eyes lit up. "That's great! Where are you going?" She looked at the dark cloud over his face. "Or... is it not great?"

He'd been planning to just mutter a vague complaint to minimize her worry, but somehow all of the poison he'd been hiding inside came pouring out. His irrational fears that something would happen to them--or Shibuya--if he left; the fact that he felt like his parents had always pushed him to make friends and were now tearing him away from them; that he feared if he left now he'd never get the answers he needed about what had really happened during the Game--that some invisible tether between himself and the district would be severed forever.

Rhyme let him spew it all out without a word or interruption, and when he was done she was smiling sadly.

"I get why you're so concerned, Neku," and Neku nodded while taking a vicious bite out of the burger he'd been neglecting during his rant. "But everything you're feeling right now about being separated from us? Your parents are feeling about the time you were missing for them." Neku choked and nearly swallowed his tongue. "All they want is a chance to reconnect with you, without all of the distractions of a place they probably see as having stolen you from them."

Guilt. Guiltguiltguiltguiltguilt.

Why hadn't he seen that? There was a part of him that was bitter that Mom and Mama hadn't realized he was dead--even before Josh's resurrection voodoo--and he hadn't even considered that thinking he was missing might have been just as bad from their perspective. Fuck, he was a self-absorbed ass...

"So I should shut up and go on the trip to appease them," he muttered, trying to ignore the flush crawling up his cheeks.

Surprisingly, Rhyme giggled at this and took a noisy slurp from her cola before explaining.

"No, Neku. You should shut up and go on the trip so you can enjoy yourself with them," she explained.

Oh. Yeah. Uncomfortable shift. That could be a possibility. He guessed.

"Want to hear about my day so you can put off processing?"

"Please." Surely she could understand him while his forehead was pressed to the table. She was young. She didn't listen to loud music. Surely her hearing was excellent.

And it was. Rhyme regaled him with her mundane errands picking up more fabric for the quilt she was working on, dropping off lunch for Beat at his part-time job, browsing the new music selections at Towa Records, and it was great until she started in on Minamimoto.

"Some of my classmates think the artist is going to be the next CAT, since CAT sightings have disappeared, but I'm not so sure. I mean, I love the sculptures, but CAT's works always came with a certain joie de vivre, y'know?" And of course Neku nodded along at that, CAT fan that he was. "I just get a sense of contained anger from most of these pieces--an obsession with the worst of us all instead of the best. Don't get me wrong they're powerful, and I love them, but I'm not sure they have what it takes to match CAT."

Neku could get behind all of that. Minamimoto was an angry bastard and he wasn't afraid to let everyone know they were beneath him, while Hanekoma was about lifting people up. He could hardly believe that anyone would even consider them on the same level. He didn't even get what Rhyme saw in the junk heaps.

"Although..."

That sounded ominous.

"I found a new sculpture today while I was wandering, and it's different from the rest. Did you want to see it?"

shattered glass splattered blood paint

No way. Minamimoto wouldn't have re-made it, would he?

With a sense of trepidation, Neku agreed.

The closer they got to the back alley in Udagawa, the more nervous Neku became. If he was right there, there was no way she wasn't going to notice the resemblance between the sculpture and himself. Then he'd have to admit that he'd died there, and since there was no vehicular access he'd have to admit he'd been murdered there, and the fact that someone else was recreating the scene means he'd have to admit that Minamimoto was there when Neku'd died, but wasn't the one who killed Neku (since he didn't want to crush the source of her new dreams)...

It was a mess.

"Beat told me you showed him a CAT mural back here when you were partners, so I wanted to take a look since people were comparing the sculptor to CAT, but the mural's pretty faded now, I guess you've probably seen that yourself, but there was actually a sculpture hidden back there too! I was so surprised, I wonder why they both chose the same isolated location?" She gasped and started slapping Neku's arm. "Oh! Oh! Do you think the sculptor might actually be CAT? Maybe something happened to disillusion them and they changed media to express that new outlook? But, the statues don't really have any of CAT's stylings, and you'd think it would be hard to disguise all of them..."

She babbled on and on excitedly as they walked, somehow not noticing how tense Neku was getting as they approached.

If Neku didn't already know that Pi-face was the artist she admired--not CAT--and hadn't been dreading what he'd see when they reached the mural, he would have enjoyed trading theories with her. It was the kind of nerdery that had gotten him ostracized from his peers before the Game.

Right now it was all he could do to just let her babble away as a white-noise background-track to his panic.

Sure enough, when they entered the alley Neku immediately spotted one of Minamimoto's monstrosities.

But it wasn't the one he'd smashed those weeks ago. This one was new.

This one wasn't Neku.

The wobbliness in his knees was hidden from Rhyme by her disengaging from his arm to run over to the sculpture.

The Neku-statue had been made from fragile glass; this one was all barbed-wire and pigeon feathers. This one was Minamimoto.

Not the arrogant Game Master or dismissive Taboo Noise-hybrid--no, this was Minamimoto at his most vulnerable.

I blew it...

Kneeling, one arm clutching the other--a single feather smeared with red paint to symbolize the trail of blood down Minamimoto's injured arm. An L-shaped block of wood held in the hand of the injured arm, ready to be transferred to the whole arm at any moment. A black cap over a red bandanna on the top of the 'head'; torso and legs wrapped in black fabric. The head angled not to look ahead, but at the ground in an attempt to hide the pain...

"It looks like the sculptor spilled their paint back that way--" where Neku had smashed his own likeness and relived the worst moment in his life, two sets of foot prints walking to the mural from the spill, and there is still paint in the grooves of Neku's sneakers, "--but there's something about this work that feels different from all of the others. It's not angry or mocking. It seems, I don't know... Private."

"Vulnerable," Neku contributes, remembering how it felt to see himself laid bare. "Lonely." Because when had Minamimoto ever had someone with him? Even his 'collaboration' with Mr. Hanekoma seemed half-based on threats of violence, and who knows which side the barista was really on? In a world where partnerships were the ultimate rule of law, Minamimoto had been fighting alone.

Approaching the statue and standing next to Rhyme, Neku let his fingers trail lightly against the bloody feather. "But still angry. Just... a simmering anger, not quite ready to boil over yet."

For the first time since her excitement over the statue had taken over her in Sunshine, Rhyme really seemed to see him again. "Neku... are you--"

Okay he was sure she would say, but she never did. Someone else spoke over her.

Spoke. Yelled.

"Hey! Get away from that you brats! Last thing I need is yoctograms like you ruining--" Then Minamimoto got a closer look. "Oh. It's you again. Well, scram. Go trash someone else's hard work."

Rhyme squeaked. It was a very familiar squeak. It was Shiki's squeak upon meeting Eiji Ouji.

(It was Neku's squeak upon discovering Mr. Hanekoma was CAT.)

Neku sighed, extremely put-upon. But Rhyme was his friend and, even if Minamimoto didn't know it, he'd done her a great service.

"Rhyme, this is Sho Minamimoto, the Grim Heaper. He was Game Master during the Second Week. Minamimoto, this is Raimu Daisukenojo--"

"Call me Rhyme!" (Much squeakier than her usual introduction.)

"--she was a Player during my first week."

Minamimoto squinted at her. "Weren't you smaller and pink and Noise-food?"

Well then. Minamimoto wasn't going to need red paint for his statue any more because Neku was going to smear him over the pavement!

Rhyme winced a bit but nodded shyly--shyly! Rhyme!--with a quiet "Yeah."

Before Neku could enact his violence, Minamimoto surprised them both by holding out a hand to fist-bump. "Good job keeping your sense of identity intact. Most Noise lose that within hours. You must've held out over two weeks."

Perking up a little, Rhyme grinned at the compliment while completing the fist-bump. "Well, I can't take all the credit. Mr. Hanekoma found me and Beat kept me by his side. I couldn't have done it without them."

Minamimoto scoffed before moving to fiddle with the back of the sculpture, attaching the metal appendages he'd brought with him. With the rattling the crushed soda cans made from where they were wired together, it was surprising they hadn't heard him coming.

"Look, Hanekoma coalescing you so quickly, and your brother carrying you around, should have bought you an extra day, maybe two. You did the real heavy lifting. Nevermind the fact that the Iron Maiden had you in her claws for a week before you came back. Don't sell yourself short, kid."

And Rhyme was just glowing under the praise, cheeks bright red as she looked down at the ground, a shy smile curving her lips. Was it really that her dreams hadn't been restored? Or was it her self-confidence that she could do them had been crushed after being knocked out of the Game so quickly? Was there a difference?

Neku stepped back as the two talked, Minamimoto explaining the technical details of what he was doing--the materials, how he attached the different parts to each other, the safety precautions when handling things with sharp edges like the crushed cans and barbed wire. And eventually he even managed to coax Rhyme into talking about her quilting project. Naturally he was most interested in the shapes and angles she was choosing to relay her message.

They talked and Neku wandered. He kicked the bullet hole in the pavement, scuffed his feet against the dried red paint and shiny glass-dust on the ground, ran his hands over the flaking paint of CAT's mural, and let his fingers explore the hole from a bullet that hadn't been aimed at him.

Just like with the Neku-statue, Minamimoto had placed his own statue in the same area of the alley where he'd been shot by Joshua. By wandering to the second bullet hole, Neku was now standing behind the statue.

Minamimoto had been busy while Neku had been wandering. The metal appendages were mostly attached by now, with only some extra supports currently being added by Minamimoto around the 'torso'. That meant Neku had a clear view of the additions.

They were wings--six of them--flared out and menacing. Without them, the statue had looked vulnerable, but now Neku could tell that from the front it would be much more menacing--a leashed threat. Injured, but not yet defeated.

Giving a quiet snort, Neku admitted that was pretty accurate.

Upon closer inspection, there were little notes attached to the wings on vertical hanging slips of paper. Each held a complicated looking math equation. Quietly, while Minamimoto was distracted talking to Rhyme, Neku took pictures of each one to look at later.

"What does it mean?"

A question asked innocently enough, but Neku froze from where he was coming around the statue to join them, looking to Minamimoto with panicked eyes.

The statue was more about the Reaper than Neku himself, but surely any explanation would require an explanation of the setting, and this wasn't something he particularly wanted to share.

There was a brief glance Neku's way, before Minamimoto started shaking his head. "You ever hear of 'death of the author'?" Rhyme shook her head, confusion written across her face. "It's the idea that when you create something, you have a set definition of what it means and as long as it's in your head that's all it means. But once you unleash it into the world, everyone who interacts with it will interpret it their own way, and that will probably be different from your own interpretation. It's not wrong, just because it's not what you envisioned, 'cause the minute you put it out there--changed it from private to public--your own interpretation as the sole interpretation dies; it's just one of many now."

Understanding dawned on Rhyme's face while Neku tried to keep his sigh of relief inaudible. "So you don't share your interpretation because you don't want it to influence mine?"

Minamimoto grinned and ruffled Rhyme's hair affectionately. "That's right. Not all creators do that; some want their meaning to be known. Hell, some want their meaning to be the only meaning. But I don't care what others think. I do this to exorcise my own demons. If people find their own meaning in that, good for them. Not my problem."

Rhyme was staring at Minamimoto with pure adoration on her face, and Neku sighed with defeat.

"Gimme your phone."

Well. Gob-smacked was a good look for Pi-face.

"What for?"

Neku rolled his eyes. "So I can program in my number. The group of us tend to meet up at least once a week. You should join us. Talk to people who know the Game but aren't in the Game."

Slowly, Minamimoto reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, then tossed it to Neku who caught it without blinking. Minamimoto squinted at him suspiciously as Neku opened the man's contacts to input his information.

"This is great! I'll have the inside track to where all of your new sculptures are!"

Minamimoto's attention switched back to Rhyme. "I mean, I guess? Why would you want to though?"

Neku snickered to himself as Rhyme treated Minamimoto to a tirade about the social value of his own sculptures--basically indoctrinating him in the meaning she derived from his works.

While the Reaper was distracted, Neku paged up through the contacts and sent out a quick text to "BOSS".

TEXT ME, YOU ASSHOLE!! You have my number. -NS

Then he tossed the phone back to Minamimoto, deriving great satisfaction when the other fumbled the catch a little.

It was the little things in life.

Josh didn't text him.

Shiki had volunteered to keep Neku company while he packed for his family's trip, but Neku had the feeling he was going to regret accepting when he saw the shark-like grin on her face as she lounged on his bed.

"Sooooooo..."

Neku rolled his eyes and ignored her, sorting through the shirts he wanted to bring.

"Rhyme tells me you have a boyfriend."

For a moment everything froze. Then Neku relaxed and kept sorting.

"Rhyme told you no such thing because she's not a dirty rotten liar who enjoys torturing me."

A page turned in the magazine Shiki was reading--or at least pretending to be reading--but Neku knew she was focused entirely on him, determined to squeeze every last detail out.

"Oh reeeeeally...? So you don't know a super cool street artist with whom you willingly exchanged phone numbers?"

At that, Neku had to snort. He turned around to face Shiki, who dropped all pretense of perusing the magazine and rolled onto her front to stare at him better.

"First of all? Minamimoto is kinda the opposite of 'super-cool'; he's a super-nerd. He likes math and trash."

"So you already know his likes!"

"Secondly," he continued, ignoring her interruption, "There was no number 'exchange'. I gave him my number in case he wanted a group of people in the know about the Reaper's Game to hang out with."

"So forwaaaard, Ne--wait. Reaper's Game? I thought we were the only players to make it out?" She scrunched her face up in thought, wiggling her glasses in the process.

"He's a Reaper."

All of the enthusiasm left her in a moment, alarm replacing it. "A Reaper?"

Dryly, "Did Rhyme leave that part out?"

Archly, "Did Rhyme know?"

Giving up the packing as a lost cause until this conversation was over, Neku gave Shiki his full attention. "Well, I introduced him as the Game Master from my second week, but she was pretty busy mooning over his most recent creation so it's possible she glossed over that part." He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

Incredulity was the overriding statement on Shiki's face when he asked her that. "Does it... does it matter?! Of course it matters! The Reaper's tortured us for fun! You most of all! How can you ask that?!"

For fun? Maybe if you put Josh and Kitaniji's bet on the table, and sure the Reapers tended to take delight in their jobs but...

"He actually... wasn't that bad..." It was strange voicing it out loud. Neku's second week had been the hardest, partnered with someone he didn't trust, a Game Master aiming barbed comments his way (that in retrospect were probably meant for Joshua), Beat attacking him at random, the missing memories of his death, and the increasingly vivid flashbacks to his last moments whenever the three of them were in the same room. But Minamimoto had spent most of that week preparing for Day 7 and taking Joshua out. Most of that week had been spent doing Josh's little errands and being on edge waiting for a mission to come in.

The main trauma Minamimoto had caused Neku was 'killing' Josh, but Josh hadn't been dead at all, and hadn't been who Neku thought Josh was--it was all a confusing mess that Neku tried not to think about these days, especially as Joshua seemed to have no inclination to set the record straight.

"Neku, I don't want to discourage you from making friends, but... He's a Reaper; they're not even human any more.

"But they were, once," Neku whispered, picturing skeletal wings extended from Beat's back. "Players like us who reached the end of the Game, but weren't granted a second life. So they make due with what they have, and erase Players to keep what existence they've managed to retain from fading away. They're just like us--they just want to live."

Shiki bowed her head, dark hair obscuring her face. "And when that lady Reaper told you you could win by erasing me, even though it was against the rules, that was just her trying to survive, right? When our Game Master kept singling me out as an ingredient in his recipe, that was just him being like us?"

Shit.

Sometimes Neku forgets how easy it was not to care about what was happening to him--what he was doing--in that first Game, with no memories to weigh him down. Forgot how horribly he treated Shiki, because she forgave him so easily.

Forgot that he wasn't the only one traumatized by what they experienced.

Neku got up off the floor and joined Shiki on the bed, grabbing her in a hug.

"What we experienced... what you went through in that first Game... It wasn't supposed to be like that. There were other things going on, games within the Game that screwed up all the rules. That's why Mr. Hanekoma was able to save you from me that day--what Pinky did was against the rules. And... and I'm so sorry that I tried to k... kill you. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know."

"It shouldn't have mattered!"

But Shiki pushed back from where she'd buried her face in his chest and shook her head harder. "Neku, you didn't know. Not just that it was against the rules, but you didn't know what the Game was, or why we were playing. You didn't know who you were or any kind of learned morality. They took all that from you. Mr. Hanekoma didn't just save me, he saved you too. That's why I can't forgive them. They stacked the deck; over and over. I don't know how you can forgive them."

Neku sighed, running his hand through his hair nervously. "I don't know how you can forgive me," he muttered, then waved off her protests--they'd had that argument before. "It's... Look, there's a lot more history between me and the other Reapers just because we were playing against each other so long. Pinky, Lollipop, Def Märch--all of them helped us out when push came to shove and Shibuya was in danger; when things went completely off the rails. And with Minamimoto... he never made it personal like some of the others did--especially to you. He... It wasn't his fault I was dead," not that Neku realized that at the time, "and it wasn't his fault I was playing the Game," that was Joshua--from what Neku knew, most Players had a choice--"and even though the rules said he should have been hunting me down aggressively, he pretty much ignored us 'til the last day when he couldn't any more."

And when the Game was over and done with, something about Neku's involvement had haunted Minamimoto after the fact. There was part of Neku who wanted to know more about the Reaper who valued the lives of the living; who valued Shibuya, just as it was.

"He's... not all bad," much to Neku's own surprise.

Pursing her lips, Shiki crossed her arms defensively across her chest. "I can't promise I'll like him... But I'll give him a chance."

A weight that Neku didn't realize he'd been carrying came off his shoulders. Since when was Minamimoto joining them that important to him? Inviting him had been a spur of the moment decision. And it's not like Minamimoto had texted him yet, anyway. He might never show up.

All the same, he pulled Shiki into another hug--another great benefit of having friends: human contact.

"Thanks Shiki," he breathed into her hair. She relaxed into the hug and squeezed him back.

"Now what's up with all the text books? You're seriously going to work on your math homework while on holiday? Do it on the last day of break like the rest of us plebes!"

Neku laughed at the joke and hoped that it hid his blush. He pointedly didn't think of the photos of the formulas from Minamimoto's statue sitting on his phone.

He didn't unpack the math texts.

(He did wait until the last day of break to do his homework.)

To Neku's surprise, Minamimoto did eventually text him shortly after break was over.

Where u yoctograms meeting? -Sho

It was a start.

It was a disaster.

Minamimoto... didn't play well with others.

Well. Okay. Rhyme thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread and could usually distract him by chatting about art things. But Beat was always about two seconds from starting a physical fight whenever the Reaper started insulting him... which was also about every two seconds.

Shiki kept shooting Neku these looks, and Neku had to keep avoiding her gaze because nope. Nope nope nope. He did not have a crush on Minamimoto. Just... a weird and complicated history.

(Neku may have worked on those math equations while in Hokkaido, but it's not like he got very far with them. Mom had been concerned about the school assigning work that was too hard until Neku explained that it was for a personal project. Then she'd just been bewildered.)

Most days, Neku served as a mediating force with Rhyme, smoothing out the rough edges in the group.

On the days when he hated Minamimoto for killing Josh and killing Neku himself...

Well, on those days he tended to shove on his 'phones bounce pretty early. On those days even Beat gave Neku concerned looks.

But... despite all the ways that it shouldn't work, Minamimoto began to integrate into the group.

Every now and again, though, there was a reminder that the Reaper wasn't exactly 'one of them'.

"Can't make it," Minamimoto grumbled around a mouthful of ramen as they planned an excursion to the skateboard park for the following week.

"You're dead," Beat rolled his eyes, fist planted in his cheek as he looked mournfully at his own empty bowl. "What could possibly be so important you'd bail?"

Shrugging, Minamimoto slurped up another mouthful of noodles, speaking around them.

"Work."

Shiki startled, her knuckled going white as she gripped her chopsticks. "Work as in...?"

Another shrug.

The rest of the meal passed in uncomfortable silence.

"Seriously? We're waiting for the light like a bunch of grade schoolers? There's nothing coming!"

Neku was making 'abort!' motions behind Rhyme's back, but it was too late, he could already see her tensing.

"We all died in traffic accidents. We've learned the hard way the importance of looking both ways before crossing the road."

Usually when Rhyme talked, it was bubbly and cheerful, especially to Minamimoto. Now it was flat and challenging.

Yet, surprisingly, Minamimoto didn't comment on the change in her demeanour, didn't push this new button he'd found.

Instead, he looked over Rhyme's head and locked eyes with Neku. "All of you, huh?"

Neku turned his head to the side, and refused to catch the Reaper's eyes for the rest of the day.

Today Neku's wandering had brought him back to Udagawa and the alley in which he'd died.

Most days Neku's wandering brought him back here.

This time it had been on purpose, though. Minamimoto had been... persistent about trying to talk to him since the Crosswalk Incident two days ago, and this wasn't the kind of conversation Neku wanted to have in front of the others. So Neku had returned to the alley, and texted Minamimoto to let the Reaper know where he'd be.

The Wounded Angel statue was still sitting there, metal parts showing a lot of rust as time had passed. Meanwhile, CAT's last mural was nearly unrecognizable.

Even Neku's paint 'blood-stain' was almost completely worn away.

Two small holes in the concrete and asphalt could still be seen, if you knew where to look for them.

Neku wasn't looking.

Neku was sitting on the ground again, his back to the wall, head buried in his knees.

He knew Minamimoto had arrived when the Reaper threw himself down to sit beside Neku in a sprawl of limbs.

"Why don't any of them know?"

"Know what?" It was a useless deflection, but just the thought of having this conversation was exhausting.

Irritation crept into Minamimoto's voice. "Not one of them looked shifty or guilty or anything when Noise-girl claimed you all died via vehicular impact. They just looked like it was an accepted fact. Now, I know you didn't get hit by a car. And you know," here there was the muted sound of knuckles rapping against the ground, "You didn't get hit by a car. So what gives? Thought you were into all that sharing and caring crap."

Neku snorted. "We talk about our lives, yeah. But we got all of that talking about our deaths stuff out during the Game. We're trying to move on."

"Uh-huh. I seem to recall you accusing me of killing you at one point. Seems like you might have been a fraction confused about things during the Game."

The elbow to Neku's ribs was completely unnecessary. Neku finally twisted his head to look Minamimoto in the face.

"Josh had more fun stealing my memories before the Game than after. I didn't know what really happened until the end. And even when I thought it was you, we didn't have a lot of time for heart-to-hearts during the last week. Too much to do, not enough time."

"And your friends just assumed you were just like them? Didn't even bother to ask?"

A shrug. "Like I said, we don't really talk about it."

Except Neku was thinking about it now, that moment when he saw Joshua running toward him, gun in hand. The crack of the gun firing. The lack of identity and confusion during the first week. The confusion and desperation of the second. The confusion and desperation and grief of the third.

Only for it all to be just... a game. A stupid bet.

And an entry fee Neku will never get back, because he lost, even if Joshua proved himself trustworthy in the end.

An entry fee Neku doesn't even know.

Neku shudders, burying his face back in his knees.

A tentative arm wraps itself around Neku's shoulders. The surprise of it pulls his head out of his arms again, to see Minamimoto looking up at the sky, idly scratching his cheek with his free hand.

There a slight tinge of red to his cheeks.

Neku's own face heats up, but...

He's so tired. And the human contact is... nice. Especially without the need to explain... everything.

So instead of pulling away, Neku slumps into Minamimoto's body heat, soaking it in, letting it chase away the chills of Neku's own anxiety.

They don't say anything else. Just sit there, side-by-side, with Minamimoto's arm around his shoulders.

(Neku is never going to tell Shiki that she was right; he might have a tiny crush on Minamimoto.)

"I'm surprised Minamimoto didn't harass him into telling the others. It's not like him to take on this touchy-feely stuff himself."

"Now, Sanae, you forget that our dear Sho doesn't play well with others, no matter the progress he's making on his social skills--he's never going to be the type to encourage 'sharing-and-caring' as he put it."

"Sure, Boss, but doing the comforting himself? Didn't really seem his style."

"Tee hee. He really is making progress! But I think it has more to do with the subject in need of comforting than anything else."

An arched eyebrow. "Really? Minamimoto? And our Neku?"

"I nudged their paths into meeting for a reason, after all. During the Game, Neku showed a remarkable ability to draw people together and bring out the best in them--even when he was showing his own worst. The other districts aren't going to keep loaning me their Conductors forever, and Shibuya has few candidates. But one that doesn't play well with others? Well. That needed to be fixed first."

"And it doesn't bother you? I know you had your eye on Neku yourself..."

A pause; a tinge of regret. "I never should have inserted myself into the Game. You yourself reported how our Frequencies interacted to Neku's detriment. If I had waited until he was more stable... Now, there's too high a risk of destabilizing him again. No; our paths have diverged now, and walking back down that path can only lead to ruin."

"So. When are you going to tell the new Conductor about his promotion?"

"...Not quite yet.

The sun was setting and it was getting colder. Even with Minamimoto's body-heat, sitting on the concrete was leeching the warmth from both of them.

With great effort, Neku climbed back to his feet, stretching out the kinks in his muscles from being still for so long.

Looking back, Minamimoto's arm had fallen back to his side, but beyond that he hadn't moved. Just sat there, staring at his own legs.

Neku thought about it for a second, taking into consideration their complicated history, their recent interactions, the understanding they were developing, and the small warm feeling in his chest.

Then he held out his hand to help the Reaper up.

"C'mon, Sho. I'll treat you to a burger."

Head snapping up, eyes wide, Sho tentatively accepted the hand up, before burying any hesitation with his usual smarmy grin.

"Least you could do after making me sit on the ground for hours..."

"Yeah, right," Neku snorted, his own grin beginning to form as he shook off the ghosts that were haunting him, at least for now. "I totally twisted your arm there..."

They walked out of the alley, bickering warmly with each other, and that small warm feeling in Neku's chest burned just that slight bit hotter.

It was a possibility; a Someday. Proof that whatever Josh had taken from him, Neku still had a future.

And hopefully--in some form--Shiki, Beat, Rhyme, and Sho would all be part of that future.

end

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