#it's so funny Bill always starts out so polite and helpful in his first meetings

[the-barefoot-hatter]

IDK guys, I know everyone loves a wild and wooly Bill Cipher making intestines into party streamers, being a crazy violent murder clown 24/7 but um... the Pines are kinda already there.

They are intense.

Like wow.

Bill just wants to kick back and relax, host a party, jeez you Pines are so extra all the time, it's exhausting.

Can we please have a cuppa and chill out for five seconds wowzers.

[stalebagels]

what’s your ranking of the talk show hosts?

Oh, thank you for asking. I am so sorry for the essay I am about to write.

Highest to Lowest:

Conan O'Brien / Craig Ferguson - I put these two in the top spot because if you asked me to choose only one of them to watch for the rest of my life I wouldn't be able to do it. Both of them are people that I watched with my dad occasionally through my childhood so maybe I'm a little biased on that front. They're probably the only two hosts that I ever cared to watch interview anyone because it never felt boring to me even if I didn't really care about the interviewee or know who it was. They were both unique and just seemed like genuinely good people both inside and outside the studio (and to add to the bias a little; I got to meet Craig at one of his Fancy Rascal tour shows last year and he was so fucking great. I was so nervous going into it because I was worried he wouldn't be the same as he was on TV as is the case for a lot of celebrities, but he went above and beyond for everyone. He signed everyone's posters and merch even though he didn't have to (I got a poster signed) and he actually took the time to have a full conversation with everyone individually and make sure everyone was comfortable. He's a wonderful dude and I wish I could go back and talk to him again.)

Stephen Colbert - When I first started watching late night shows (back when the pandemic first started), the first shows I ever sat down and watched a full episode of on TV were Stephen and Conan. I had absolutely no idea who Stephen was because up until that point I hadn't really cared enough about politics. I grew up in a heavily conservative small town with a heavily conservative family in the south where the word liberal counted as an insult, so you can imagine we didn't really watch a lot of late night shows. Stephen's show helped me make sense of things, helped me work out what my own feelings were, and provided an escape from the hell that was lockdown. He was the one that made me give a shit about what's happening in this country first, and after that first sit down I ended up going back and watching old episodes of The Colbert Report and The Daily Show (he also led me to Jon in that regard, since I had no idea either of those shows existed) and found that I loved his style of comedy. I really do wish I had discovered him sooner.

Jon Stewart - The only reason I didn't stick Jon and Stephen in the number two spot together (as well as John Oliver) was because Stephen was primarily responsible for my interest in politics - basically he was for me what Jon was to everyone before he retired - and was the one who led me to Jon in the first place. It took me a while, but once I finally went back and started watching old clips and episodes of The Daily Show; once again I wished I had discovered him sooner. I wish I had his righteous, angry optimism to look forward to every night, but a lot of the things he's said and done on the show still hold true today. Plus, his fight for the 9/11 first responders bill to get passed was absolutely inspiring and an example we should all follow when it comes to pushing for change and holding our leaders accountable. I didn't realize he started out as a stand-up comedian, but I've since watched as much of it as I could get my hands on because he's just an incredibly smart and funny dude in any situation.

John Oliver - I hate to put John so low on the list but I didn't want to cop out and put him, Jon, and Stephen all in the same tier lol. I'll be honest, I can't really remember the first time I watched John's show. I think it must have been on YouTube at some point during lockdown or even right before, but ever since the first time I watched it I was hooked. I learn so much from him and his show and I always look forward to his next episode. Generally, I don't really watch guest interviews unless I really care about whoever is there, but since John doesn't have guests it was much easier for me to sit down and watch the entire thing without getting bored or distracted. He does an incredible job of informing his viewers about a problem that - chances are - they had no idea existed beforehand and the amount of research/investigation he and his team do inspire me to do the same. It was really weird watching his stand-up and seeing him in regular clothes and not a suit though lol.

Jimmy Kimmel - I think this might... be a controversial take. His was the third show I started watching during the pandemic - I think Stephen took a break at some point and I decided to try watching Kimmel to fill the time - and I found that I actually quite liked him. His monologues felt natural and easy, and he had a lot of his family and friends on his staff which I admired (plus Guillermo). His humor is kind of the same as my dad's though (sort of), so maybe that's why I liked him off the bat. His beef with Matt Damon is hilarious, his pranks are generally harmless and funny, and he seems very down to earth and generous for someone who makes a goddamn lot of money. Plus, I watched a clip of him back during the Tonight Show fiasco where he came on Leno's show and shit talked at him about backstabbing Conan, which earned some respect from me. I don't know a lot about what he did on the Man Show because I don't think I would touch that with a ten foot pole (and from what he says neither would he), but he seems like a good guy. (Although I will say I generally only stay long enough to watch the beginning of his show like the monologue or unnecessary censorship since I don't care about musical guests or interviews).

Seth Meyers - Again I hate to put him down so low, but I have to be honest and say I don't actually know a whole lot about him. I watched him on SNL sometimes with my dad when it was on, but it wasn't very often. I never watched his show during the pandemic as I was mainly focused on juggling Kimmel, Colbert, Fallon (gag) and Conan. Honestly it wasn't until Strike Force Five came around that I really started paying attention to him. I like that he involves his writers and his staff in a lot of his bits, and he seems like a lovely person. Unfortunately, though, he is down here a little lower but I still enjoy watching him even if I haven't watched a lot of his content. (His stand-up special is on my list, though)

Jimmy Fallon - This is a weird one for me. I watched Fallon a couple of times during lockdown and even before then I knew who he was because everyone hated him. It was on a whim that I decided to watch his show one night, and I wasn't really impressed with what I saw. That said, I didn't hate it - and when the Rolling Stone article came out I was very disappointed. And the fact that he just never addressed it publicly and carried on like nothing happened rubbed me the wrong way, and every monologue I did see afterwards just.. wasn't even puff-of-nose-air funny anymore. He became much more annoying to me, even during the podcast. The only time I found him funny were the Strike Force Wives games. Otherwise he just became painfully bland, and it's a shame because his original late night show was actually pretty decent in comparison to The Tonight Show.

As for Corden and M*her; if they were being chased by hundreds of angry geese and asked me to let them in my house for shelter, I'd shut the door in their face and laugh.

So, if you got to the end of this long ass clusterfuck, here are two pics of Craig and I at the tour :) and once again, I apologize.

[bebepac]

The Double Date Mistake?

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 92 “I don’t think that was meant to go there.” will appear in bold.

This is also chapter 2 of The Meet:  To catch up on what you’ve been missing of the Meet so far Please click:  The Meet Masterlist

Original Post Date: 05/01/2021 at 3:15PM

The Book:  TRR

The Pairing:  Liam x F!OC (Liam x Jilian) 

Word Count: 1948

Summary: Jilian goes on a double date with Bebe and meets Leo for the very first time.  Jilian and Bebe share how they first met each other to the guys.  

Warnings: Sexual innuendos.  Profanity.  

Leo and Liam belong to pixelberry, Jilian belongs to @queenjilian borrowed for the duration of this series. All others are my own to help us tell the story.  

“And done. He has your number now Jili. Now fly my little birdies fly.”  

She thought he would text right away but he didn’t.  The whole way to Bebe’s apartment the twenty minute drive Jili’s phone was silent.

Bebe looked at Jili as she glanced at her phone.  What the actual hell?

She texted Jilian.

“Bebe why the hell are you texting me? I’m sitting right next to you?”

“I was just making sure your phone was on.”  

“I mean he’s still working Bebe.  He can’t just drop everything and just start texting away.”

“The hell he can’t. What in the actual fuck is wrong with you bruh?” Bebe grumbled as she angrily typed on her phone.

“Wing Woman are you trying to crash this plane?”

“The mother  hasn’t even taken off yet with you two trying to pilot it. I’m gonna need you to get your life together Jili.”  

The driver pulled to a stop. “Damn I really wanted to see how this turned out.”

Bebe got out of the car in a huff.

“I’ll let you know.”   Jili called out the window to her.

Jilian wasn’t going to let it stress her out.  He was still at work. She knew her job got busy at times, and she couldn’t just sit on her phone and do nothing.  As she was walking up the stairs to scan her door key fob, the phone rang.

It was a local number she didn’t recognize.

“Hello?”

“Jilian. It’s Liam.”

“Hi Liam.”

“I apologize for not texting or calling sooner.  Things got busy at work.”

“Oh I figured that was what happened.”  

"Bebe is something else. I feel a little attacked. I can tell it's from a place of love though."

"She's my best friend Liam. My true sister from another mister."

"So it's safe to assume you are single?" Liam inquired.

"I am, and for you the same?"

"Yes Jilian I am. Is it forward of me to say maybe we can change that for each other. I would really like to see you again. I'm off next Friday would you be free then?"

Jilian sighed.

"Friday is my date night."

"Oh. I just assumed you being single you weren’t seeing anybody even casually."

"With Bebe. We restaurant hop. We're self proclaimed foodies. 

Do you have any friends maybe we could double?”

“My brother, both him and Bebe have big personalities, I think they’d really get along.  Think she would be okay with that?”

“Yeah I think I could convince her.”  

They continued to talk, and about everything under the sun.  Liam was funny and witty and kept her attention.

She began to realize how much she had in common with the charming Liam Rys.  

She had cuddled into her bed under her covers laughing and chatting with him.  She finally rolled over realizing it was almost dawn.

“Oh my God! Is that the sun?!?!?!” she shrieked, surprised into the phone.

“I’m so sorry Jilian I completely lost track of time.”

“I have to go, I have to be at work in forty five minutes!!!”

Jilian said her goodbyes to Liam and hurried to work.  

Right when Jilian was sitting in her office reading over her chart  for her first patient’s checkup, there was a delivery.  

A large coffee drink had been delivered to her with a sweet gooey cinnamon bun.

“Gift for you Jilian Winchester.”  

Liam was really sweet.

She texted him thank you.

He had let her know he had an extra espresso shot added to her coffee.

Liam was a lifesaver.  

*^*^*^*^* The Double Date *^**^*^*^*

When Jili and Bebe got to the restaurant  Liam and Leo were already seated at the table both stood to greet them.  

Liam softly kissed  Jili’s cheek.  

Bebe glanced at Leo.  He was cute, but he was probably about five inches shorter than Bebe, not to mention Bebe was wearing heels making her tower over Leo.

Liam changed the subject breaking the ice between everyone, and the conversation between the couples started flowing.  

Jilian slipped in the subject of Liam and Leo honestly not looking much like each other.  

“We’re half brothers, we have different mothers. But don’t get it twisted Bebe.  I can scale you like Mount Everest. Taller women don’t intimidate me one bit.”

“Um….thank you for that blatant honesty…. Jili will you accompany me to the restroom please?”  

“Excuse us for a moment.”  Jili smiled politely.  

“Absolutely not Jili!!!!!”  Bebe was adamant when the door to the bathroom closed.  

“Bebe I didn’t know!  I swear when he said older brother, I was thinking he looked like him.  You would think older brothers are taller, bigger, and wiser. He is funny though.  You two do have similar personalities. Maybe try to focus on that Bee.  Let’s just try to have a fun time.  You don’t have to see Leo again.  But I know I want to see Liam again. I like him.”  

“You owe me big for this!!!”

Both women come back to the table.  Their drink orders had arrived.  Bebe takes a long sip on her drink.  

“That’s what I’m talking about!”  Leo smiled.  “A girl after my own heart.”  

“How did you and Bebe meet Jilian?”  

“We actually met in NOLA. We were both presenting at a medical conference.  Bebe for the Pharma side, because she’s a pharmacist,  and me for medical for being a nurse practitioner focused in the at risk population.”

Leo eyes flit to Bebe.

“So you’re a drug dealer?”  

Bebe smiled.  “ Legal Drug Dealer. Yep, that’s what I call myself. I’m slinging pills to pay the bills.”  

“I can dig it.”  

“We met the night before our conference began, in a bar.”  

When Jilian walked into the bar she noticed her right away.  There was a woman at the bar,  drinking her drink telling what appeared to be a funny story that had multiple people’s attention.  All were laughing with her.   She had to be a local. Jili thought.  

She had strings of beads around her neck.  

“What can I get ya?”  the bartender asked.  

She looked at Bebe.  “I want whatever she’s having.”  Bebe was the life of the party.  

“Well I did a little pre-gaming at the drive through daiquiri shop though. 

But mostly Hurricanes.  Get her a Hurricane Sal.”  

The bartender winked at Bebe.  

“Don’t skimp on the good stuff either!”  She yelled out.

Jilian’s eyes widened when the bartender  brought her the drink.

Bebe held up her glass to clink with Jilian’s glass.

“Laissez le bon temps rouler!!!!!”   The crowd screamed in agreement at Bebe’s declaration.

“What?”  

“LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL!!!!!”  

Jilian took a long drink of the cocktail.  No wonder.  

“Yep! You like it.  I’m Bebe, what’s your name?”

“Jilian.”  

“I’m gonna call you Jili.  What brings you to NOLA?”  

“Work, a conference.”  

“Bleh you said the “W.” word.  That’s not existing in my life right now.  We’re here, we’re alive, no regrets Jili.  Let your hair down and enjoy yourself.  I mean literally.  That bun is a buzz kill.”  

Jili pulled the pins out of her hair shaking out her locks.  

“So much better!!!! You’re a babe!!!  See they’re already looking at you differently.  We’re not interested though.  Unless they’re buying more drinks.”  

Jili glanced at the guys that were now looking in her direction.  

“You’ve got a lot of bead necklaces going on.”   Jili commented.  

“There are two ways to get beads in NOLA.  Buy them or earn them.”

Jili looked at Bebe and raised her eyebrow with a smile.

“Let me guess, your ass hasn’t spent a dime tonight.”  

Bebe took a long sip of her hurricane.  

“Nope.  Not a single dime.  Including alcohol.  I'll tell you what Jili.  Life’s too short.  I’m not going to regret any of my choices.  I spent a year in Costa Rica, living my life Pura Vida.”

“Pure Life.”  Jilian smiled.  Bebe was a carefree spirit, and people gravitated to her.

“We’re only here for a blink Jili.  How do you want your story to be told?”

She decided to throw caution to the wind and party the night away with Bebe.

Jilian’s alarm went off the next morning.  She was incredibly hung over as she tried to pull herself together.  

She had a random memory of her and Bebe walking down  Bourbon Street singing “Lean on Me”  while they were linked arm and arm.  The drunk leading the more drunk back to the hotel.

She smiled, straightening her black business suit.  She was about to pull her hair up into her signature bun but decided to let her tresses fall free instead.  

As she was getting checked into the convention she slipped her ID badge and program of speakers, herself among the list.  

She heard her laugh.  Jili whipped her head around and saw Bebe at the back of the line with two others.  Bebe was wearing a bright pink business suit, and her shoes and clutch had the print of medications on it.  

“The legal drug dealers have arrived!!!! Big Pharma in da house!!!!!!”  

Jili laughed, shaking her head.  

“That’s how we met Liam.”  

“We found out later we lived near each other, and made plans to meet up.  Been friends ever since.  That was like six years ago.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask us how we met.”  Leo asked.

“I assume you are brothers…. You met… at birth?”

Bebe shook her head at Leo.

Everyone was calm after not to mention the alcohol free flowing.  They headed to  a lounge after dinner, called Blue Notes.  The music there was full of soul and blues.  

The drinks continued. The music there stirred the soul.  

“May I have this dance?”  Jili nodded, taking Liam’s hand.   He held her close.  

Leo eyed Bebe.   “You know, I have always been one to have a huge case of FOMO.  So you and me let’s hit the dance floor too.”  

Bebe downed her drink in one swallow.  “Why the hell not.”  

They walked out to the dance floor.  With Bebe’s high heels Leo was chest level to her.  He pulled her close resting his head on her bosom.

“Um….so we’re doing this… okay…”  Bebe looked surprised but she was smiling.

Liam laughed softly when he glanced in their direction.

“I don’t think that was meant to go there.”  

“The height difference honestly never crossed my mind Jilian.  Things seemed really awkward for them for a bit, for more so Bebe.  Not so awkward now.”  

Bebe and Leo were looking at each other laughing.

“You know this is never going to happen Leo Rys.”  

“A man can dream.  Well….It could happen for the night.  I can tell you’re curious. Let me tickle your fancy tonight.”

Bebe laughed harder at him.  “You don’t give up do you Leo?”

“Nope because I get what I want.”    

“If nothing else Jilian, I think they will at least be friends from this, if nothing romantic happens.”

The next morning Liam was cooking  breakfast when Bebe walked out of Leo’s room. Leo’s sweatpants looked like capris on Bebe.  

“Good Morning Bebe. Would you like some breakfast?”  

“Sure.”

Leo walked out of the room a few minutes later.  

Liam smiled looking at the two of them.  

“Breakfast Leo?”  

“I already ate.”  Leo winked at Bebe.

Bebe choked on her orange juice.  

“Oh you were talking about bacon and eggs, sure.”  

Nope not at all awkward at all.  Liam thought as he fixed plates for himself Leo and Bebe.

Bebe was climbing in her ride share when her phone rang.

“Bebe… Liam just told me you had breakfast with him and Leo… at his apartment.  You spent the night with Leo?”  

“Leo was right, Jili.  Not all of him is fun sized.”

Tags in the comments !!!! 

[pastelgoogie97]

How Do I Tell A Girl I Want To Kiss Her? |jjk

hi guys!! sorry for being away for so long, but i wanted to thank you for showing ‘i thought we said no yelling at 3 am’ so much love!!! i had to post this from my phone so im sorry if there are any errors:/ HOWEVER, i hope you guys really like this post and again i appreciate all the love my other drabble got!!

genre: first date and first kiss FLUFF

pairing: collegestudent!jungkook x collegestudent!femalereader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of an abusive ex-boyfriend (if you SQUINT)

—————

Y/N looked at herself in the mirror for what felt like the fiftieth time. She kept changing her outfit and messing with the hair she’d spent hours on out of pure anxiousness. She didn’t know what she was so nervous about. Sure, she hadn’t been on a date with a guy in a while, but she never felt as nervous as she did for this one. Then again, her date was going to be with Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. The boy she’d caught feelings for that worked in the coffee shop down the street from her apartment. At first, she thought he was adorable considering he was only two years older than her. She also thought she saw him around school a couple of times on her way to class. He seemed like the quiet type, but once he warmed up to her, he found the courage to not only become a friend of hers but to ask her to get dinner with him later tonight.

“Girl, don’t stress. You look, gorgeous babe,” That was Serena’s voice over the FaceTime call. Y/N knew that Serena genuinely meant what she was saying, but she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of doubt and think Serena was just saying it because they were close friends.

The sound of her apartment door snapped her out of her nervous haze and all she could do was freeze. After Serena coaxed her into opening the door, she wished her best friend good luck and hung up the call. Y/N looked down at her outfit once more before opening the door. God, she must’ve looked like an idiot. Did she open the door too fast? Did she seem desperate already and she hasn’t even spoken to him?

“W-Wow, you look beautiful,” Jungkook’s soft voice spoke up, the rustle of a bouquet shifting her gaze to his outstretched hands in front of her.

“Oh Jungkook, they’re beautiful, thank you so much. You didn’t have to get these,” Y/N silently cursed at herself for speaking too fast, but seemed relieved that Jungkook hadn’t called her out for it. Most likely out of politeness.

“The flower shop was on the way here, so I thought I’d get you some,” That was a lie. The flower shop was a solid block and a half away from her apartment in the opposite direction from which he came, but he didn’t mind keeping that a secret from her.

After a bit of small talk, Jungkook grabbed Y/N’s hand and lightly squeezed it. His mind went foggy at the simple contact their hands were making and he found himself smiling dopily, chuckling airily when Y/N started to swing their intertwined fingers.

Once they made it to his car, he opened her door for her and quickly shut it, jogging over to his side to take them to the restaurant he’d made reservations at. Y/N smiled and twiddled with her thumbs in her lap, struggling to find the confidence to look at Jungkook without wanting to scream. She didn’t want to mess anything up with him. According to her ex, she’d done enough of that even after they got together, so she was going to make sure she’d get it right.

“You feeling okay?” Jungkook interrupted her thoughts. Then again, when didn’t he? “If you feel sick or anything we can reschedule Y/N, you won’t hurt my feelings.”

The girl giggled and let out a shaky sigh. “No, I feel fine. I’m just nervous, I guess.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile. She was nervous to go on a date with him? She obviously couldn’t see how much he was shaking when he handed her the flowers. He must’ve been pretty good at hiding his nerves.

“It’s okay to be nervous, don’t feel like it’s wrong to feel weird about this whole thing,” Jungkook began. “You don’t even wanna know how scared I was to ask you out. I honestly thought you were going to tell me no.”

Y/N giggled. His heart fluttered at the sound and he made it his sole duty then and there to make sure she kept smiling and laughing all night. Laughing always made his nerves unwind, so maybe it could help with hers as well.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” She smiled. “I’m glad we’re doing this, I’m excited to get to know you better,”

That was all the reassurance Jungkook needed. Before she could say anything else, he pulled out of his parking spot and started heading over to the restaurant. It wasn’t one of those high-end classy restaurants, but he also wanted to make sure it wasn’t the McDonald’s down the street. He’d been very careful in finding a place that had a very broad menu so she could find something that she liked without having to force herself to eat something she didn’t really want. He’d asked Yoongi to help him prepare the second she told him yes.

“So, do you like working at the coffee shop?” Y/N queried, her eyes watching the bright lights of the city drive past in fast blurs of color.

“Yeah, it’s helping me pay for my dorm’s rent and everything, plus all my coworkers are really nice,” Jungkook rambled. “Plus, I got to serve you every time you walked in, so I can���t help but love that place,”

Y/N smiled and shook her head, making a comment about how cheesy that was. He giggled and tried to defend his point by saying that he was being completely honest, but she couldn’t help but giggle louder. The conversation carried on until they got to the restaurant. Before they knew it, they were getting out of the car and walking into the establishment hand-in-hand.

After they were led to their table by the hostess, Jungkook pulled Y/N’s chair out for her and pushed her in, his eyes settling on the soft flesh of her flushed cheeks at the action. He then sat down and got settled before looking up at her. She still looked a bit shifty, so he decided to make a funny face to break the thick layer of ice in between them. Once she laughed, he knew that he would be able to talk to her.

“Okay, so I want to know everything about you,” Jungkook stated boldly. “If you feel uncomfortable with anything I ask you, just let me know and I’ll ask something else, okay?”

Y/N nodded and felt herself relax. He was so reassuring and it’s almost like he knew how nervous she was. She gave a silken smile and leaned back in her chair a bit.

“Ask away,”

—————

They’d already gotten through their appetizer and entree’s, debating on whether they should order dessert before they paid the bill. Jungkook had found out so much about Y/N as did she about him. From the time she got perfect attendance in first grade to what major she was in, Jungkook had found himself drowning in so much adoration for the girl in front of him.

“Wait, so Tae, Jimin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jin, and Hobi are all living with you?” Y/N inquired genuinely, watching Jungkook nod and sip on his sprite. “That’s crazy! Are you all close?”

“We’re like brothers. Not even because we’re living together, but because we always help each other with everything and it’s literally like we’re all related to each other. We do everything for each other and whenever one of us is in trouble, we always manage to get them out of it,”

Y/N felt her heart sigh adoringly at his statement. He genuinely cared about his friends and something about him being so caring made her want to ask him to be her boyfriend right then and there. She was having such an amazing time with him and talking to him felt like second nature. She couldn’t remember the last time a boy made her feel this comfortable and safe.

“Did you ask them for tips on where we should go tonight?” she chuckled, watching the crinkles form next to his eyes when he smiled.

“God,” he scoffed. “I asked them if I was insane for wanting to ask you out,”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows with a grin. “Why would you be insane?”

“Because you’re so out of my league, I didn’t think you’d even think of me as anyone more than the guy that makes your coffee before class every morning,”

She looked down at his hand and hesitantly grabbed it in hers, rubbing her thumb along his knuckles sweetly before meeting his gaze.

“I’m not out of your league Jungkook,” She began. “If anything, I’m out of yours,”

Jungkook knew that was a flat-out lie, but he wasn’t sure if she knew it was. Either way, he shook his head with a chuckle and thanked her for the compliment. Just when he was about to ask her another question, their waiter came back around to ask them if they wanted dessert. Jungkook sent a look to Y/N as if to ask her if she wanted to eat anything else and she simply shrugged her shoulders.

“We’d like the check please,”

The waiter walked off to fetch their bill and Y/N held her full stomach, laughing when Jungkook did the same and slapped his stomach. They both giggled and kept their conversation from earlier going, wanting to pass the time until their bill came back.

Jungkook paid for everything despite Y/N’s protests. He helped her down from her chair and made sure they weren’t leaving anything that belonged to them at the table before placing his hand on her lower back and ushering her out of the restaurant. They got back into his car and Y/N couldn’t help but smile like an idiot the second he started the engine.

“Before I take you home, did you maybe wanna go get some ice cream? I know this really good place not too far from your apartment,”

“That sounds good! I love ice cream,”

Jungkook nodded with a smile and turned onto a different road from the one to her house. They found themselves parked in front of a really small ice cream shop and walked inside. It was a tiny place, yes, but the flavors were stretched out along the right wall, and Y/N couldn’t help but rush up to the glass like an elementary school girl, trying to see which flavor she wanted most and what toppings she wanted to put on it.

“Jungkook! You’re not going to introduce me to your date?” A voice piped up from behind the counter, slightly startling Y/N.

Jungkook grabbed her hand and smiled, ushering her over to the cash register where she was met with none other than Kim Taehyung. She smiled at the boy and gripped Jungkook’s hand a bit tighter, watching the two of them interact but not really paying attention to what they were saying.

“Hyung, this is Y/N, Y/N this is Tae,” she shook hands with Taehyung and felt a small smile spread across her features when he complimented her.

“So, what flavor do you guys want?”

—————

The two of them waved goodbye to Taehyung before leaving the store with their ice cream in their hands. They both got a cone and Jungkook put every single possible topping on top of his while Y/N settled for oreo crumbs and cookie dough bites.

Now, the two of them were walking up to Y/N’s apartment and she felt downhearted that her date was going to be coming to an end soon. They stopped in front of her door and looked at each other, giggling as she pulled out her keys.

“Oh no,” Y/N frowned. Jungkook tossed her a worrisome look, asking her what was wrong. “We didn’t finish our ice cream yet!”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, clearly not following where she was going with her comment. “Looks like you’ll just have to come inside and finish it before you go!”

The boy in front of her smiled and rolled his eyes, nodding his head as she unlocked her door and allowed him to step inside. She turned on the light in her kitchen and walked over to one of the chairs at her table, watching him take the seat next to her. She looked up at him with hearts in her eyes as she continued to finish her ice cream.

“You have ice cream on your nose, dork,” Jungkook chuckled as he grabbed a napkin to dab at her nose.

Y/N looked down at her ice cream and giggled, pressing the treat up to his nose and letting out a light laugh. She grabbed the napkin he used on her and struggled to contain her giggles.

“Oh no, you have ice cream on your nose,”

They continued to tease each other like this until they finished their cones. Sadly, Y/N found herself walking Jungkook out of her apartment so he could go home. They stopped outside her front door and looked at each other, hoping to give each other the rundown of how they thought the date went and decide if they wanted to go on another one.

“I had an amazing time with you tonight Y/N” Jungkook smiled, looking down at her. “I really want to do this again with you, if you don’t mind,”

Y/N smiled and bit her lip to contain the girlish squeal that wanted to come out of her so bad. “I would love to do this again, actually, as soon as possible,”

They both giggled and went silent, looking into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, enjoying the comfortable silence that fell between them.

“I should probably get back home now, but I’ll text you as soon as I get home so we can talk about going out again. Sound good?”

Y/N nodded and looked down at both of their hands getting warmed up. She felt a bit of heat burning the roses of her cheeks and she tried to get rid of it before she met his eyes again.

The second their eyes locked, Jungkook stooped down to her height and pressed his lips against her own. They felt soft against her skin, molding with hers like the last piece of a puzzle. A wave of warmth crashed over both of their bodies as Y/N’s hands traveled to the back of his neck while Jungkook’s hands placed themselves firmly at her hips, gripping them tightly as he brought her against his chest.

It felt like the way it was described in the movies. Y/N felt her legs buckle, her eyes fluttered shut, she felt like the world wasn’t such a scary place as long as she was in his arms. He felt the exact same way. He couldn’t help but yearn for the feeling of her lips to remain on his at every hour of the day. It may have been their first, but damn was he sure it wouldn’t be their last.

They pulled away for air and looked at each other with flushed faces and ragged breaths. They giggled and pressed another light kiss to each other’s lips once more before Jungkook looked down at his phone. He really had to leave now, as much as he didn’t want to.

“I’ll text you when I get back to my dorm, okay?” she nodded. “Goodnight Y/N,”

“Goodnight Jungkook,”

[broadwayandnetflix]

Pick Me Up - Bill Hader x Reader

Theme: Fluff, with some Angst

Warnings: Language, Use of Alcohol

Summary: Bill wakes up in the early hours of the morning with a request to pick up a rather drunken you.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I started this ages ago, I still really dig some of my word usage in this fic. Once again, Maggie Carey and Bill will not be married in this fic. Thanks for dealing with my sporadic fic posting.

It was just supposed to be one drink. Even if you could remember that rule, you were pissed off and needed to forget everything for a while. Just enough for the alcohol to slip into your system and make you feel somewhat fixed for the night.

Except one drink became two, and three, and soon five. I think it’s important to note that you were an incredible lightweight when handling alcohol.

Usually, you’d have a friend by your side, but this bar wasn’t that far of a walk from your apartment. It would almost be quite the resource, but you rarely tended to turn to drink.

Except that is, until you found out that your boyfriend of five years cheated on you. You were crushed, obviously, but you had almost seen this coming. Or maybe you didn’t; it just didn’t seem impossible for him to pull this act on you.

After booking a job as a cast member on the thirty-eighth season of Saturday Night Live, you often found yourself becoming busier than you had ever been. You would frequently come home late and not have enough time for your partner as you had imagined.

Except, Justin had been so understanding. Why wouldn’t he? He was a surgeon at Lenox Hill and would always take night shifts to keep things afloat.

He was charming, kind, and always knew how to surprise you. You could still picture your future wedding and marriage so vividly; he was the man of your dreams, but was he really?

He probably wasn’t when you had found him fucking a random girl senseless in your shared bedroom. That’s beside the point, everything felt floaty and fuzzy, and the bartender looked concerned.

“Want me to call someone for you?” she suggested as she leaned against the counter. One hand flipping a pen, the other sneaking up to the phone beside her on the wall.

Justi-no, just no, you stopped yourself quickly.

You swallowed carefully, looking at her with an emotion swirling within you that you couldn’t quite place. She cocked an eyebrow, just waiting for your answer to flop into her fingertips.

“His name is, um, he’s a friend. Just a friend, yeah, sure. Okay, hmph. His number is-,”

—

He had just gotten to bed finally, or so he had thought, almost perfecting not focusing on the way his breathing was lulling him to sleep. It was way too late for this anyway; he would definitely make a pick me up at the local joe’s the next morning.

That was until he heard a faint buzzing come from his bedside table; he rubbed his eyes with annoyance. At this hour, who the hell was disrupting him was his first thought, that was until he saw an odd number.

Seth had always told him not to accept calls like these, but something didn’t sit right. Hopefully, he was wrong; it could very well be someone ‘butt-dialing’ him.

“Hello?” damn, he sounded gruff, was this new?

“Hi, I’m here with Y/N; she’s currently here with me at April’s Brewery on 16 W 51st street. It’s getting rather late, and we are closing up soon. She said I should call you, Bill, right?” she confirmed, the information twisting around in his drowsy mind.

“Oh, um, yeah, I am. Is Y/N, okay? I mean, yeah, I’m coming as soon as possible.” he stammered, hanging up before she could even speak, rushing out the door, and calling forth a taxicab.

Why did Y/N pick him of all people? He was him, and you were well you! He didn’t even think you were even that close, well, maybe you were. Things between you and him were pretty nice; you could make him laugh like no other. You made his days better, even if it was with something small and not that big in retrospect.

Except then again, wasn’t this Jus-whoever’s job? Your boyfriend’s job to pick you up? Why were you even drinking in the first place? He had many questions.

The cab pulled to a halt, and he paid the necessary change. Giving the driver a tight-lipped smile, he hopped out and made his way into the destination he was given.

The bar looked reasonably deserted at this point. Still, there you sat looking absolutely crushed, or what appeared that way, nursing what seemed to be a glass of something that didn’t quite look like water. Lost in some conversation with the women who he assumed had called him, her eyes catching him in what looked to be a sense of relief.

She had whispered something to you, but instantly you poked your head up. Immediately locking eyes with him, you pulled yourself up, an excited grin dashing upon your lips.

“You came, oh Billy!” you squealed, rushing over to him before slipping, his arms rushing over to hold you up.

Billy? he thought with much amusement and, of course, concern.

“Woah Y/N, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this...” he drew on his words, your head tilting in confusion. 

“I’ve never seen you this drunk,” he admitted finally only to have you burst into a fit of giggles.

“Oh, Billy, you are so fucking funny. Do you know that? You make me laugh so much, like a crazy amount. God, you are so cute!” His eyes widened. Were you cheating? No, no, he couldn’t do this.

“Y/N, sweetie.” he began while sliding the bartender a couple twenties, leading you out the door. Steering the two of you to a nearby pocket of space between the bar and a convenience store.

“You have a boyfriend, I sincerely hope you didn’t forget,” he stated only to see you deflate at the thought.

“No, not anymore, or at least I don’t think so.” you cried the tears coming down faster than he could’ve imagined.

Wait, really? He sure as hell didn’t see this coming; you two had been together for what had appeared to be a long time. Judging by your conversations at work, things seemed to be fine between you two, rusty, but okay.

You shifted your feet, looking anywhere but him, he gulped, taking hold of your quivering hands that tugged at each finger anxiously. Eyes widening, you looked up at him, something settling in your eyes that he couldn’t quite process.

He smiled softly, lifting up his thumb to wipe away your tear stained cheeks. That’s what friends did, right? You sniffed, pulling back a little farther.

“I don’t think I can go back home tonight; Justin cheated on me with someone from his work.” you huffed, feeling everything come back at full swing.

“Oh Y/N/N, come here,” he whispered, beckoning you into his arms. It absolutely crushed him to see you so....broken.

Slowly but surely, you fell into his arms and sobbed quietly. His hands rubbing soothing circles onto your back, whispering sweet nothings to you. Anything to help, god, he hoped he was helping.

“God, I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” you choked out after a while, clearing your throat and pulling away from him.

His eyes darting between yours and the way your hands twitched anxiously. The sky now a deep violet speckled in navy clouds, stars peeking out from the city fog to illuminate your surroundings. The neon lights of the convenience store sitting behind you showing just how late it was. The way it hit you all at once, lighting up the way your cheeks were stained from your tears.

He had never really had a chance to tell you how beautiful you were. It wasn’t even like he was trying to start trouble; you just were.

Whether it was in weekly meetings, bright and early, the buzz of the day settling into the cast. He’d notice it, the way your lips curved into that gorgeous grin you always seemed to carry on you. The way you did your hair, how it complimented your features so effortlessly. How your eyes would filter in appreciation of everyone in the room, how you’d stop shortly at his. The crinkle in your eyes, a smile beaming at him, offering a little wink.

Mornings with you were never dull, or at least that’s what he thought. He always knew you were out of his reach, so his heart stayed far from him, like a buoy sinking up and back down into the waves of his consciousness, always there but never willing to commit.

Even now, in your current state, he was in awe of your beauty. Yet, it wasn’t polite to stare, and he had to make sure that you’d get some sleep and a cup of water and painkillers by your side the next morning.

“I have a spare bedroom. Honestly, it’s way too late, and I don’t mind it.” Bill gestured, trying to focus on any signs of protest that could erupt from you.

“O-okay,” you whispered in agreement, rubbing your eyes as fatigue started to settle in. A motion that Bill definitely didn’t miss while he looked you up and down.

He gave a toothy grin before motioning you to follow him, standing before the bustling streets of Manhattan. Even at night, cars buzzed and honked past at moderate speeds. His hand outstretched to catch the attention of taxis, one hand reaching out to take ahold of yours.

It felt nice when he touched your little hands slip into his somewhat larger grasp; it felt normal almost. God, he was such a freak, you just got cheated on. You were just friends, nothing else. Get it together, Hader.

A car pulled close to the curb, and within seconds the two of you settled in. He gave the address and buckled in. You looked rather comfy with your face smudged against the cab window.

He smiled softly, as slowly but surely, you fell asleep. The city blurring around the two of you, bright lights and street signs becoming one. He always admired New York City at night, the way it never really stopped moving. Despite the early hours of the morning, people still bustled amongst the streets.

It was still fairly early into his departure of Saturday Night Live; his face was familiar, but not quite famous like his other costars. He could walk the streets with ease and get stopped only a few times. He didn’t know how long it’d last, but he enjoyed the sense of invisibility he carried.

You, however, were admired by many. Bill could remember your first few days on set, those who were not married or dating setting bets on you. Hader often scoffed at the idea of winning your heart amongst his coworkers, you were a constellation, and he was light-years away. That is until you mentioned that you were dating some doctor, and the competition died down.

Yet every now and then, his stomach would grow a flutter, and his cheeks would blush when you’d lay your head on his shoulder, a familiar friendly feat you’d perform after long hours in 30 Rock. He hated that he crushed someone who was taken; he never once stopped hating himself for that.

The car halted to a stop, Hader’s apartment complex sitting right outside. He eyed the cash monitor for the second time that night. In an instant, he paid the acceptable amount, tipping the driver for good measure. Almost standing up before remembering how you had fallen asleep against the window.

He huffed anxiously, wondering how on earth he would do this. The driver was obviously tired and not pleased with the hold-up between his departure towards his own comfy mattress. Grabbing his stuff, he slipped out of his side before going around to opening your door.

Your figure slumping towards the pavement before he scooped you up in his arms. Internally cursing himself if you were to wake up, and want him to rid you of himself at once. Instead, you peeked one eye open, his body heaving anxiously. Y/E/C peeking up at him in dazed confusion, before murmuring something and nuzzling deeper into his hold.

It was a skill that he hadn’t perfected, getting someone into his house, without making much noise. Not to mention the fact that you were asleep in his arms, chest rising in perfect rhythm. He nudged the cab door closed and made his way up to his apartment door. Victoriously managing to slide his hand out from underneath you and into opening his front door.

Slipping into the building, he quietly kicked the door closed behind him. You only stirred, which promptly stopped him dead in his tracks, before continuing on towards the spare bedroom he owned.

Gently he laid you down onto the bed, your body curling up at the contact of the comfortable mattress. He smiled before digging around to place a blanket over you, fitting it, so you were well adjusted to sleeping.

His heart heavy and mind slowly beginning to beg for sleep, his feet padding towards the door of the guest bedroom. That is until he heard a rustle and a soft murmur escape your lips.

“What was that, Y/N? Did you say something?” he wondered aloud, his eyes trying to adjust towards the room now blanketed in darkness.

“It’s-just, I’m not used to sleeping alone anymore, you know? I’m so tired, though, could you stay until I fall asleep?” you admitted softly, playing with the sheet covers on top of you.

Bill’s eyes widened into the size of saucers; he didn’t see this coming. He shook his head before quickly nodding in your direction; you yawned without much thought and laid back, dozing off.

He stood there absolutely puzzled on what to do, except stare, which was definitely not inappropriate whatsoever. His eyes darting anywhere in the room, but you, he focused on an old rocking chair that his mother gave him when he first moved in.

It looked comfy enough. It would do, if that’s what you wanted, that’s what a friend would do. God, he hoped that’s what a friend would do in this case scenario.

The chair creaked noisily, and he cringed every single time until you stirred once again, thrusting your hand upward into the air. He sat puzzledly until your finger flicked up and down to signal him to join you.

He gulped, “please, Bill, just for tonight?” you said with a slight whimper.

Timidly he shoved the covers outward to create space, sliding into the bed, stiff as aboard. You couldn’t help but murmur something sleepily before rolling over beside him.

He froze, but he couldn’t stay awake forever. Your head now resting upon his chest, curling into his side, you smelled nice. He let you stay put before trying to get situated himself, sleep soon beginning to overtake him.

Friends totally did this, yep, of course, they did, Bill.

[dc41896]

Extra Help

Pairing: Teacher!Chris EvansxBlack Reader

⚠️: None, all fluff💕!

You weren’t quite sure what to expect when your best friend called needing you to fill in for her at the monthly parent teacher conference. Ronan wasn’t a bad kid by any means, so you doubt that it was about him being disruptive or getting into a fight. Then again, like any 10 year old boy, he could have his moments, bringing you back to square one wondering what would be discussed at this meeting.

Reaching the wooden door, you turn the handle revealing a childlike, decorated classroom brightly lit from the remaining sun shining outside before it was due to set. Various drawings from stick figures to flowers littered the walls along with scholastic posters showing the water cycle and how to use the infamous PEMDAS, just to name a few. There were also posters of superheroes and even some of puppies that made you softly smile.

“Auntie Y/N!,” Ronan smiles hopping up from his desk to hug your legs. “Mom’s not coming?”

“Not this time, she had to work late. Now what did you do that we have to have this meeting?,” you ask eyeing him suspiciously making Ronan giggle.

“Nothing bestest auntie.”

“Bestest auntie? Now I know you definitely did something,” you respond tickling his sides.

“Hi! You must be Ronan’s godmother.” Red plaid button up hanging over his dark jeans, a man who you assume to be Ronan’s teacher emerges from his office with black frames resting on his cheeks and impeccably clean white sneakers on his feet. His gold pendant gleaming in the light only brings more attention to his broad chest, and rolled up sleeves display his muscular arms. “I’m his teacher Mr. Evans.”

His hand envelopes yours in softness and warmth as he greets you with a handshake. The bright smile on his lips not only captures you, but somehow brings comfort even though you only just met. Ronan had told countless stories of his favorite teacher, Mr. Evans, and how he was so cool, funny, and smart.

The figure standing in front of you now compared to who you envisioned then, though, was definitely not the same.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you smile back. “Nina apologizes again for not being able to make it.”

“She doesn’t have to apologize, I completely understand. Please have a seat at my desk and we can get started.” Pulling up one of the bigger chairs for you as Ronan gets one of the student chairs for himself, you both sit in front of the mahogany desk soon meeting with his welcoming blue eyes.

“Is everything okay with Ronan? He hasn’t been any trouble has he?”

“No! No, behavior wise Ronan’s one of the best in my class! He’s polite, always tries to help out, follows the rules.”

“That’s great!,” you smile lightly nudging his arm making him shyly look down to his feet. “And what about his work?”

“For the most part it’s good, but that’s the main thing I wanted to discuss. In his other subjects, Ronan completes his assignments with no problems and participates in our class discussions answering every question I give him. However, I’ve noticed with science he struggles a bit and will kinda close off, not even wanting to try when he doesn’t understand something.”

“Why don’t you ask for help Ro? That’s part of the reason your teacher’s here.”

“I know, but I want to try to figure it out on my own. By then, everyone’s moved on though so then I can’t catch up.”

“Well that’s when you ask for help. And if you don’t want to ask in front of everybody ask after school or during downtime. Or you can always ask me or your mom. Does she already know about his science grades?,” you ask looking back at his teacher who was lightly scratching his thick beard.

“That’s um the other thing I wanted to discuss...”

“Mr. Evansss,” Ronan whines attempting to talk in a hushed tone clearly forgetting you were sat right next to him and could hear every word. “You said you wouldn’t tell.”

“I said I wouldn’t tell your mom bud, not your godmom,” he replies in the same hushed tone nearly making you laugh from their interaction. “If any of the kids have a C or lower, I make a note on their progress report or report card and they have to give it back to me signed. The last report card and past two progress reports Ronan brought them back signed and everything was fine. I ran into his mom at the store one day and she asked why did we switch to having grades online rather than physically handing them out, which confused me until I put it together and realized someone had been forging his mom’s signature.”

“Ronan Michael..”

“You do it all the time though auntie!”

“Yea to send off bills your mom may forget to sign or to get packages for you guys, which she knows about me doing! You signing for your grades is definitely not the same and wrong Ronan, you know that.”

Guilt apparent from his deep brown eyes to his pouted lips, he lightly swings his legs back and forth with hands placed under his thighs. “I was gonna bring my grade up so then I wouldn’t have to do it anymore and then mom wouldn’t know. No harm done.”

“While that’s a nice plan, you still weren’t getting any help though. So what would’ve happened if your grade didn’t get better?”

“....I uh didn’t really think that far ahead,” he answers shrugging his shoulders.

“Okay well since we don’t have a plan for that, here’s what I think. Everyday after school, you meet with Mr. Evans to go over your science lesson and do that until your grades get better and stay that way,” you suggest before once again meeting the soft eyes of his teacher. “But what do you say Mr. Evans? I don’t want to take away from your personal time or home life.”

“I don’t have a problem with it. Plus it’s just me and my dog, who I’m sure wouldn’t mind me not being there to annoy him,” he lightly chuckles making you smile. “And in fact, you and Nina are both welcome in to hear how it’s going so you don’t have to wait outside for him.”

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to let her know. Mostly it’ll be her coming, but the days she can’t make it I’ll be here.”

“Sounds good,” he smiles drumming his fingers on the desk. “Well that was pretty much everything I wanted to discuss. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, at least not right now.” Scribbling his information down, he peels off the sticky note containing his number and email address before handing it to you.

“If anything comes up just give me a call, or you can email me. I usually respond back the same day if I have time.”

“Thanks, I could’ve gotten all this from Nina though. You didn’t have to waste a stick note on me.”

“Um right,” he sheepishly states, cheeks turning a light pink as he nervously chuckles to himself. “Well one less step then.”

Looking between both your laughing faces, Ronan wasn’t quite sure what was going on between his favorite teacher and bestest aunt, but he didn’t like it.

The weeks that followed, he met with Mr. Evans as he was told usually being joined by his mother who would sit beside him making sure he really understood what was being taught. You would show up sometimes also sitting next to him making sure he got everything, but he couldn’t help but notice Mr. Evans smile a little brighter when you walked in the room. Similar to how he would get excited when his mom would say they were having pizza for dinner. And he was more talkative too, asking about her day which would eventually turn into a random conversation about things they liked or some other topic.

“So, um we’re having a field trip to the planetarium next week and I was wondering if you wanted to come along?,” he asked one day trying to be quiet as Ronan answered his last couple questions.

“To chaperone? I’d love to help out but honestly if I have to look after more than five kids, it’s gonna be a disaster,” you answer making him laugh.

“You don’t have to worry, on paper yea you’re a chaperone but really you’ll just be with me. And since we’re not having class after and the kids can go home as soon as we get back, I was thinking we could go grab dinner at that place I was telling you about.”

You tried to hide your face so he wouldn’t see the giddy smile forming on your lips, but from his own deep chuckle and his fingers briefly grazing yours resting on the table you knew you weren’t quick enough.

“I’m hoping that smile means yes?,” he whispers.

“Done!,” Ronan interrupts before you can answer, quickly gathering his backpack before pulling your hand. “Cmon auntie I’m starving.”

“Hold on Ro, we have to see if your answers are right first then we can leave,” you giggle.

“But I know it’s right! I’ve been doing really well, even Mr. Evans will tell you.”

“Yep everything’s right, and that is true he is doing much better.”

“See? Now time for food! Bye Mr. Evans!,” Ronan rushes pulling you behind him.

“Bye Ronan,” he chuckles before looking at you. “I’ll see you next week?”

“Yea, I’ll let you know if anything changes though.” With a final wave, you feel your heart swell with excitement for your upcoming date as you walk down the hall. Ronan, on the other hand, hoped for anything to stop you from going with his teacher next week.

———

“Hey what’s up with your godmom and Mr. Evans?,” Sarah, one of friends, asks as they watch the two giggle while going over the constellation map shining on the wall.

After getting all the students organized in their groups with their chaperones, and saying everything he needed to, the both of you had been connected at the hip walking around and exploring everything the exhibits had to offer. Ronan wanted nothing more than to go home so he wouldn’t have to see you two together.

“Nothing.”

“Because they look at each other the way my parents do. All lovey dovey and cutesy like.”

“They’re just friends,” he answers, a little annoyed by everything going on around him.

“Well if they do get together,” Zach, his other friend begins, “say bye to your aunt.”

“Say goodbye?”

“Yea. It’s like with my older brother, he got a girlfriend and now I barely see him.”

“Ooh and if Mr. Evans becomes your uncle, he’s gonna be tougher on you,” Sarah adds. “My grandma was my mom’s teacher and she said she was so hard on her she couldn’t even make a B and if she did, she got in trouble.”

Ronan knew his teacher and he’d never do that. He was like a friend and friend’s wouldn’t be mean to each other. Plus his godmother would never let him treat her precious godson that way. Watching the two of you walk to another exhibit, he began to think though, what if you forgot all about him now that you had Mr. Evans?

What if his friends were right and you dating him caused all these bad things to happen? He didn’t know how he would do it, but he had to stop this quick before things got worse.

———

“Did you know Jupiter is so big, 1000 Earth’s can fit in it?,” Chris asks as you both walk through the life size replica of the solar system.

“No, I didn’t know that.”

“And the sun makes up 99% of the solar system’s mass, which is crazy since what can be seen in the sky is just a small dot. And although we know about our own galaxy, there are so many more we’ve discovered, and have yet to, possibly with various planets of their own that have their own unique properties, which just astounds me and-.”

Hearing your slight giggle, he turns to see your brown eyes on him now realizing how you probably felt like you were back in elementary school yourself from his information dump.

“S-sorry about the rambling. I know it’s probably boring, and I’ve been told I really need to stop-.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s not boring at all! I’d actually like it if you keep going,” you shyly smile holding onto his hand. Thumb rubbing against the back of your hand, he slowly steps closer to you stopping inches from your chests being pressed together.

“Okay well let’s see. Both Neptune and Uranus have rain storms of solid diamonds. And while I’m sure that would be a beautiful sight, it’s nothing compared to what’s in front of me right now.”

Before you can speak, you both hear approaching small footsteps making you separate to find Ronan grabbing his stomach as if he was in pain.

“Ro you okay? Why are you holding your stomach?,” you ask walking up to him with Chris following close behind.

“No, it hurts auntie. I think I need to go home.”

“Well the bus is our ride back, do you think you can hold on until it’s time for everyone to go?”

“No, I think I need to go now,” he groans rubbing his stomach.

“Alright, let me call your mom and see if she’ll come get you.”

“I want you to come too though,” he whines hugging your mid section as you dial your friend’s number.

“Ro your mom can handle it. I’ll come by and check on you later though okay?”

“No, you have to leave when I do!,” he protests hiding his face in your abdomen as you rub his back confused by his outburst and sudden clinginess.

Clearly something else was going on here besides an upset stomach.

“Hey, can you give us a minute?,” you ask Chris, to which he nods his head giving you a sympathetic smile.

“I’ll be outside if you guys need me.” Sneakers squeaking against the tile floor, you wait until he leaves before squatting down to meet Ronan’s red eyes and tear stained cheeks.

“What’s really going on Ro? Is somebody bothering you?,” you ask wiping his tears.

“Yea, Mr. Evans.”

“How is he bothering you?”

“Because he’s gonna take you away and we’re never gonna see each other again. Then he’s gonna be mean to me for making less than an A and-,”

“Whoa whoa where is all this coming from?”

“Well...i-it’s what my friends said,” he responds making you softly laugh.

“Honey no one will EVER take me away from you. Not Mr. Evans or any other guy that may come along. And your teacher would never be rude to you like that, he cares about all of you guys and just wants to make sure you do your best. Look how much he helped you get your science grade back up.”

“Yea but that’s before you get married and he changes,” he sniffles.

“What all do these kids talk about?,” you wonder as you shake your head. “Buddy I can promise you marriage is definitely a far far FAR off topic that isn’t in sight anytime soon,” you softly smile. “But from what I’ve seen, even if we did get married, he would still be that fun teacher you always say is your favorite. You don’t need to worry about that though okay? You keep focusing on being the funny, smart, amazing kid I know and love.”

“Okay, and you promise nothing’s gonna change?,” he asks with those big brown eyes that could turn stone into the softest powder.

“I promise with every breath in my body.” Hugging him close, he giggles as you repeatedly kiss his cheeks squeezing him tight.

“Auntie I can’t breathe!”

“Too bad because I’m not letting you go,” you both laugh as you hug each other.

“Hey they’re about to start loading up the buses soon so we can go back to school,” Chris says walking up to the both of you. “Your stomach still hurt Ronan?”

“No, it’s better now. Just a false alarm.”

“That’s good, if it starts again though let one of us know and we’ll call your mom okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles up at the much taller man. “Um Mr. Evans?”

“Yea bud?”

“It’s okay if you and my auntie like each other. I’m fine with it now.”

“Oh, um, well thank you for your blessing,” he chuckles looking at you softly laughing yourself.

Proudly nodding once, he walks to the door with you and Chris not that far behind.

“What was that about?,” he asks still amused by what he just witnessed.

“I’ll tell you later,” you giggle joining hands as you both walk out side by side.

Taglist: @fumbling-fanfics @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @melinda-january @lovelymari4 @maxcullen @literaturefeen @damnitaa @curlyhairclub @plokyu23 @fullofmelaninsarcasmandepression @nunubug99 @felicity-x0 @ellixthea @jnk-812 @jojolu @brwn-sgr @captainsamwlsn @wildfirecracker @nina-sj @iammyownlover @chaneajoyyy @scoop93535 @secretmysteriousperson

If anybody wants to be tagged, has asked to be tagged but don’t see your name, only want to be tagged for certain people I write for, or no longer wish to be tagged just let me know🤓!

[notnctu]

nct by the hour❀

▸ in which each member represents an hour of your extremely long day. its a similar concept to all the different people you encounter on a daily basis. read in chronological order!

▸[a/n] it’s author doie❀! inspired by @okmica‘s nct as types of boys ; im sorry u got notified twice bc i accidentally posted my draft lolol,, but anyways ur post absolutely butters my toast hehe idk what i wrote honestly lol 

RENJUN ▸ 4:02 a.m

your own personal alarm clock, light pats on your shoulder and tiny whispers, stumbles in the dark, takes off his warm hoodie to slip onto you, leaves your door open, places a granola bar for you on the kitchen counter, the first smile of your day

HENDERY▸ 5:06 a.m

a burst of energy ride to work, brings you freshly squeezed orange juice, plays upbeat music, is overly excited to start the day, points out the sunrise, takes the scenic route bc it makes you happy

KUN ▸ 6:03 a.m

the calm and collected shift lead, greets you with good morning without a fail, goes over the work breakdown with enthusiasm, notices you did something different with your hair, says you’re his best employee

XIAOJUN ▸ 7:09 a.m

a quiet company during work prep, silently takes care of the coffee machinery, counts the money so you don’t have to, soft chuckles when arranging the display pastries, tired gazes, mutual hatred for morning shifts

JOHNNY ▸ 8:00 a.m

the very attractive regular who always gets black coffee, remembers your name, engages in small talk, touches finger tips when you give him his drink, tips $10 every time, wishes you a good day

YANGYANG ▸ 9:10 a.m

always takes up the corner of the shop, scatters his textbooks on two tables, gets awfully shy when you offer him a pastry, pushes his glasses up every three seconds, orders hot chocolate, talks to you when there are no customers in line

TAEIL ▸ 10:13 a.m

asks you for recommendations, holds up the line, compliments the pins on your apron, goes by the alias ‘moon’, is a rewards member, quirky conversations about the weather, hopes to see you tomorrow

JISUNG ▸ 11:01 a.m

the new trainee that nods to everything you teach him, fumbles with the espresso machine, doesn’t talk much, pouts whenever he messes up, thinks you’re the best at explanations, gets nervous when you don’t have the same shifts, admires you deeply

MARK ▸ 12:15 p.m

your break buddy who works next door, smells like pizza dough, shares his slice with you, always thankful that you bring him a drink, funny stories about customers, heavy sighs when break is over, never wants to leave you

CHENLE ▸ 1:00 p.m

the cheerful employee who takes your spot at the end of your shift, screams your name out of pure joy of seeing you, begs you not to go, dramatic wails of disappointment, excitedly waves goodbye over the cash register 

YUTA ▸ 2:05 p.m

works at your local grocery store, helps you get something from the top shelf, throws in a bag of free candy bc he likes you, asks about how you are, gives you store discount, always acknowledges that you smell like coffee, carries your groceries to your car

JUNGWOO ▸ 3:20 p.m

the spunky waiter at your favorite restaurant, always puts your order in before you arrive, beaming smiles the moment you walk through the door, hugs you quickly, thinks you look cute today, ushers you out urgently with a small pat on your head

JAEMIN ▸ 4:03 p.m

cuddles you while you two nap, runs his fingers through your hair gently, forehead kisses, rubs circles on your shoulder, makes sure you fall asleep first, draws you into his side, forgets to set an alarm

WINWIN ▸ 5:30 p.m

misses you during lecture, rolls his eyes when he hands you his notes, grumbles about you owing him snacks, sarcastic jokes about you oversleeping, important due dates, walks you to your next class, attentively listens to your troubles

HAECHAN ▸ 6:12 p.m

takes you out to new restaurants for dinner, orders way too much, gossips about your mutuals, feeds you small spoonful bites, remembers your favorite kinds of foods, jokes playfully about how you have poor taste buds, covers the bill and doesn’t let you pay him back

JENO ▸ 7:07 p.m

the cute club leader who makes announcements, makes an effort to introduce himself personally, firm handshakes, notices you from across the room, very surface level conversations, notable eye smile that makes him even cuter, wants to get to know you better

DOYOUNG ▸ 8:03 p.m

your study buddy who hasn’t left the library since the morning, offers his jacket so you don’t get cold, proudly shows you his full set of completed flashcards, ruffles your hair whenever you rest against the table, clearly claims that he adores you, silently loves your company

JAEHYUN ▸ 9:06 p.m

the familiar handsome stranger who always meets you in the elevator, presses all the floors to spend more time with you, flashes his dimples in hopes to charm you, awkwardly sparks up a conversation, politely asks if you’d want to hang out sometime

TEN ▸ 10:00 p.m

steals you away from your studies to get ice cream, doesn’t hesitate to order your favorite flavor for you, tries to bite from your cone, always tells you to get plenty of rest, playful giggles when he teases you about your love life, wishes you had more time for him

LUCAS ▸ 11:02 p.m

the party animal who never fails to invite you over, respects your decision to not drink tonight, still comically asks you to dance with him, hypes up your awful moves, thinks you’re the most fun to be around, can be himself with you

TAEYONG ▸ 12:00 a.m

the open arms you love coming home to, readily available to hear about your entire day, gets the water started for you, droopy eyes and long yawns, tucks you into bed, holds you until you fall asleep, softly closes your door on his way out, the last smile of your day

[20xbetterthanu]

Photograph

Blaine hasn't seen Kurt since they broke up when they were twenty. When they see one another again ten years later at a New Directions reunion party, Blaine can't help but fall in love with Kurt all over again. 

Read on AO3 here

——

Blaine watched from across the room. He watched Kurt dance with Rachel, watched him dance with Mercedes. He wasn’t looking in Blaine’s direction—either he didn’t know he was there or he was avoiding him. Everyone was surrounding him, hugging him, kissing him, dancing with him. Blaine silently watched it in a corner, sipping from his drink. 

He hadn’t seen Kurt in person in about ten years. But he saw him everyday on magazines and billboards, on television. He could listen to him on Spotify, if he wanted to. None of that compared to finally seeing him in person, though. 

He looked stronger—like he’d been working out. His hair was longer. He was more confident, his every move sure and certain. He looked happy. 

Blaine was still watching him when suddenly Kurt looked up and locked eyes with him. Blaine’s immediate impulse was to avert his eyes, but he forced himself to hold his gaze. Kurt’s lips turned up in an infinitesimal smile. Blaine raised his hand to give a little wave. Kurt waved back and then turned to talk to Rachel.

The night continued, Tina pulling Blaine onto the dance floor for a few dances and polite conversation about how everyone was doing. Rachel had won her fifth Tony. Puck had been stationed in Japan for a year. Tina had starred in a movie that Artie had directed. Sam had lead the New Directions to their sixth Nationals win. Santana was a successful publicist. 

Blaine hadn’t been unsuccessful. He went back to college, studied musical therapy. He worked with children at the University Hospital where he lived. But it still stung to hear everyone else’s success, in what they all had actually wanted to do. It was never Blaine’s plan to be a therapist—his dreams didn’t come true. 

He pushed that thought to the back of his head as he was surrounded with old friends. Not the time to be bitter. It wouldn’t help anything.

He made his way to his corner again, content to watch rather than participate. Watch Kurt in particular. 

He didn’t know why the man had all of his attention. He’d dated since Kurt. He had been in a relationship with a guy named Matthew for two years  before they ended up breaking up. Blaine had wanted kids—something they disagreed on. So they broke it off. 

But Kurt—he looked like a movie star…his voice was smoother than Blaine remembered. 

Blaine began to say his goodbyes—he didn’t really want to stay much longer. He was tired and sad and just really wanted to lay down and watch Grey’s Anatomy. 

There was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around, expecting Mike or Sam, but instead was greeted with Kurt. “You weren’t planning on leaving without dancing with me, were you?” Blaine just stared. Kurt poked his shoulder gently. “Blaine?”

Blaine swallowed thickly. “Okay,” he said quietly. Kurt held out his hand. Blaine took it with shaking fingers. 

They swayed slowly to the music, even though it was a moderately fast tempo song. “So how have you been?” Kurt asked. 

Blaine thought about what he wanted to say. He decided on the truth. “I’ve been alright, I guess. I work at the hospital now.”

“You’re a doctor?”

Blaine’s lips quirked up into what he hoped was a smile. “Not exactly—I’m a musical therapist. I work with little kids,” he explained. Kurt smiled.

“That’s great,” he said. “You were always great with kids.”

Blaine’s heart fluttered at the compliment. He hated it. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Dancing like this reminds me of prom,” Kurt said suddenly. He pulled Blaine a little closer. “I miss it sometimes.”

Blaine didn’t say anything in response, he just let Kurt pull him forward. He took that as his chance to breathe in his scent—against his better judgement. Somehow, after all those years, he managed to still smell he same. Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder. 

The song ended and they pulled apart. “You’ve aged well,” Kurt said. 

“So have you,” Blaine breathed. He looked around the room awkwardly. “I guess I’m gonna go now.”

Kurt nodded. “Okay.” Blaine turned to gather his bag and his coat. He was halfway to the exit when he heard Kurt call his name. He turned around. 

“Meet me for lunch tomorrow?”

Blaine hated himself for the smile that placed itself on his lips. “I—um—sure.”

Kurt smiled. “Do you still have the same number?”

Blaine fished his phone out of his pocket. “No—it’s changed…here.”

He gave Kurt his new number and then quickly made his way out of the building—finally. 

By the time he got to his apartment he was exhausted. He pushed his door open and forced his way to the bed before falling down on it face first. “You fucking idiot—why did you say yes?”

The last time Blaine saw Kurt he was crying. He was really crying, and he was angry. He was so angry—at Kurt, for breaking up with him. At their circumstances. But he was really angry at himself for letting himself get hurt. For not seeing the signs. 

Fuck it, he thought to himself. Just fuck it.

-----

The next morning Blaine woke up and quite literally rolled out of bed, not at all eager to start his day. He took a shower and washed and blow dried his hair, and combed his curls. He’d stopped putting gel in his it about four years prior—he’d just started working at the hospital and one of the children said his hair looked stupid. Ever since then he’d gone without the product—and his hair was no longer called stupid by the youths he worked with. 

He got dressed, a red polo and black pants, with a striped bowtie. He glanced at himself in the mirror before grabbing his bag and leaving for work. 

Blaine was in shock at how quickly his day had passed. Before he realized, it was 1:30 and Kurt was texting him the location. He begrudgingly clocked out for the day and made his way to the restaurant. 

Blaine hadn’t been there before—it never caught his eye—so he didn’t really know what to expect. He walked into the restaurant, looking around for Kurt. 

“Over here,” he heard, and his eyes followed the voice—and saw Kurt sitting in a corner. He was wearing a blue button down and glasses. Blaine was shocked to see him dressed like that—so casual, loose almost. Ten years ago Kurt was always so put together, so exact and formal when it came to how he looked. But now he looked relax, completely comfortable in himself, and it sort of made Blaine smile. He sat in the seat across from Kurt, glancing at the menu in the process.

“Hi,” Kurt said.

“Hello,” Blaine responded. 

It was quiet, then. Heavily so.

Kurt kept looking at Blaine with an expression Blaine couldn’t place. “So, how have you been?”

“I’ve been alright,” Blaine said. 

Apparently this answer was not enough for Kurt. “Just alright? What have you been up to?”

Blaine tried his best not to roll his eyes. He must have failed, because Kurt frowned. “Sorry—It’s been a long day.” A lie. It had been an obnoxiously short day. But it seemed to satisfy Kurt. “Well—I’ve been working at the hospital,” Blaine said. Kurt looked at him funny. “What?”

“That’s all?” 

“What else am I supposed to be doing?” he asked. Blaine felt like he knew where this conversation was going and he didn’t like it. 

“I don’t know—have you been playing anywhere? Performing?” 

Blaine took a sip from his drink. “Nope.”

The waitress came and brought them their food, then. Blaine was thankful for the distraction. It didn’t last long. 

“Have you been dating?”

Blaine almost choked on his first bite. “Um.”

“What?”

Blaine was starting to become agitated. How could Kurt sit there like that—like the last time they saw each other wasn’t traumatic and disastrous. Like they hadn’t screamed and cried and Blaine wasn’t packing up his things. How could Kurt sit there and pretend like nothing was wrong?

Blaine didn’t say anything, just took another bite of his food. “Blaine?”

Blaine looked up from his plate slowly. “Are we just going to pretend here, Kurt?”

Kurt dropped his gaze. “Are we just going to pretend that the last time we saw one another we weren’t screaming? That you weren’t breaking me into little pieces with every word?”

“Blaine—”

Blaine kept talking. “And now you’re here, and you’re so happy with your big Broadway career and your Tonys and your perfect fucking life, just rubbing it in my face—and you make me dance with you and you look so amazing and ask me to lunch and you expect me not to—”

Blaine stopped talking. He shoved his plate away and stood up to leave, fishing a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket and setting it on the table to cover his portion. “I have to go—fuck, I have to go.”

“Blaine!”

But he was practically running out of the door and outside—racing to his car. But so was Kurt. “Blaine!”

“Can’t you just leave me alone? Leave me alone, Kurt!”

“Blaine, wait!”

“No. I’m going home where I won’t see you or hear you or smell you. I’m going home where you can’t fuck with my head, Kurt—you don’t get to do this. I’ve worked so hard to get over you and then you just come back—it’s not fair…it’s not fair you don’t get to—”

Lips, then. A hand on the back of his head, fingers twisting into his hair. Green eyes stared into blue ones, both of them wide in shock and then there’s pulling away and Blaine was in his car and on his way home and he was crying the entire way.

———

When it rained, it poured. 

From: Wes

Why are you on this Broadway Gossip Website? (link attached)

YOU KISSED HIM??

Blaine.

Blaine????

Blaine opened his computer and used the link Wes sent. 

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh fuck,” Blaine said again. He looked at the headline.

BROADWAY STAR KURT HUMMEL SEEN KISSING MYSTER MAN

He closed his computer, shoved his face into a pillow, and screamed. 

———

The next day went by excruciatingly slow. Blaine was working with a particularly difficult child who never stopped crying, resulting in a pounding headache. After his time with her was up he went and found a corner sit in and attempt to just close his eyes and relax.  Of course, this didn’t happen—a co-worker came and gave him a stack of paperwork he was yet to fill out. The only good part of the day was that no one cared about Broadway enough to check the gossip blogs.

By the time Blaine made it home, he was exhausted. He took his clothes off at the door and trudged to his bedroom. He was asleep within seconds. 

He woke up to the sound of pounding on his door. He quickly put on a pair of sleeping pants and went to answer it. “Who is it?”

“Kurt.”

Oh, my fucking God. “Go away. How are you even here? Go away.”

“No.”

“Please go away.”

It wasn’t fair. Kurt showed up. He showed up with all his success and then had the audacity to dance with Blaine. Then ask him to lunch. Then fucking kiss him—plastering Blaine’s face all over shitty Broadway Blogs. Now he’s at Blaine’s door. No. He wasn’t going to break Blaine’s heart all over again. That’s how this was going to end. Kurt was going to make Blaine fall in love with him all over again. And then he was going to shatter him all over again.

“Blaine, let me in.”

“No.”

Blaine left him there on the outside of his door. Kurt began banging on his door again. “Sweet Jesus,” he murmured. He tried to ignore for as long as he could, eventually he gave in and made his way back to the door. “What do you want?”

The banging stopped. “I want to apologize.”

Blaine opened the door. Kurt looked disheveled. His hair wasn’t styled to perfection like it usually was, instead it was thrown in every direction—and he was wearing sweats. “I’m listening.”

Blaine didn’t miss how Kurt’s eyes raked over his bare torso. “I’m sorry—”

“Okay, thank you,” Blaine cut him off and moved to close the door, but Kurt stuck his foot in the way. 

“Blaine.”

“I really don’t want you to be here, Kurt,” he said. 

“I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He pushed the door, and Blaine pushed back. “Ow—are we really fighting over the door right now?”

“Yes. Go away.”

Kurt was never one to listen. Eventually Blaine gave up and let him in. He stood in front of Blaine, breathing heavily, not saying anything. “I’m sorry.”

Blaine looked at him blankly. “You already said that.”

Kurt ran a hand through his hair. “No—I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry for what happened between us—I was stupid and young and I shouldn’t have treated you like that.” He looked around, searching for something. What it was, Blaine didn’t know. “God, Blaine—I don’t know how to tell you how sorry I am.”

Blaine looked at him. “I’m not going to let you just waltz back into my life and ruin everything for me,” he said. “I’m not going to let you break me again, Kurt. I couldn’t sing, or play, or even get out of bed some mornings. I’m not going to let you do that again.” I’m not going to fall in love with you again, no matter how much I may want to.

Kurt nodded. “I understand.”

They looked at one another for a long time. Blaine was shaking. 

Finally Kurt looked away. “I—I should go.”

Blaine was torn. If he let Kurt leave, he knew he’d never see him again. If he let Kurt stay, there was a chance of failure and picking himself up again. There wasn’t time to think—just time to act. To decide—what did he really want? Did he want Kurt to stay?

“Okay,” Blaine said. “I guess this is goodbye.” Stay.

Kurt touched the doorknob. Turned and looked at Blaine one last time before leaving. Stay.

Blaine looked at the closed door for about ten seconds before throwing it open. “Kurt!”

Kurt turned around, eyes wide. He started walking in Blaine’s direction. By the time he reached Blaine he was visibly shaking. Blaine pulled him back inside and shut the door. “I don’t want you to leave,” he said. It was so rushed it sounded like it was just one word. “I don’t want you to leave—I want you to stay.”

“But you said—”

But Kurt didn’t get to finish because his mouth was pre-occupied. 

They kissed like that for minutes, or hours, or days. Blaine didn’t know. All he knew was that it felt the same as it did the first time. Like it was always supposed to happen. Kurt opened his mouth and let Blaine in, arms wrapped around Blaine’s shoulders. “God, Kurt,” he murmured. He pressed his body into Kurt’s until the only thing keeping them separated was Kurt’s shirt.

Blaine’s lips traveled lower, attaching themselves to Kurt’s neck, nibbling and biting and pulling sounds out of Kurt that Blaine hadn’t heard in a decade. And then Kurt was pulling at his own shirt, pulling it up and over his head and throwing it to the side. Blaine moaned, kissing at the skin of his collarbones. 

Blaine knew he very well could end up regretting what they were doing. He knew that Kurt could break his heart again. But he wanted this—he needed this. He’d been alone for so long—he’d been lying to himself for so long. 

So when they somehow stumbled into his bedroom and fell on the bed, legs entangled and hands traveling, Blaine didn’t think about it. He put the fear away and let himself be loved, feel loved. 

———

After, he kept looking over at Kurt, who was dozing next to him. He still looked the same when he was sleeping, despite the time that had passed. He was hardly hidden under the blankets, so Blaine’s eyes kept running over his form, relearning his body. He knew Kurt had gotten larger since they’d been together, but he could really see it right then. The swell of his arms, the muscles in his back. 

He grabbed his phone off of the night stand. He snapped a photo. “I bet the blogs are never going to see this one,” he whispered.

He found himself falling asleep after that, exhausted even though the day had hardly even begun.

When he woke up, Kurt was staring at him. “Hey,” he mumbled. 

“Hi,” Kurt said. He didn’t sound happy. Fear began to pull at Blaine again, twisting his stomach into knots. 

“What’s wrong?” How could you have been so stupid? Why did you let him stay? He’s just going to leave again—fucking idiot.

“Nothing,” Kurt said. He was lying—Blaine could see it in his face. He sat up, trying to get away. “Where are you going?” 

Blaine looked at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. “I was stupid to let you stay here—oh God why did I let you stay?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’re just going to leave—you’re going to leave and I’m going to be here. I’m going to be here, alone, picking up my pieces all over again. You’re just going to say goodbye all over again.”

Kurt sat up and reached over to touch Blaine.  “Do you remember what I said to you when I left Dalton?” Blaine just looked at him. “I’m never saying goodbye to you.” 

Blaine shook his head and looked away. “I don’t believe you,” he said quietly. 

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “I want to be with you.” 

Blaine looked over at Kurt, then. “How can you say that? You have everything you could ever want—”

Kurt cut him off with a quick kiss. “I don’t have you,” he said. Blaine kissed him again, pushing him back until he was laying on the bed again. 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered.

Kurt simply pulled Blaine on top of him, hooking a leg around his waist. “I won’t.”

———

Blaine knew that eventually Kurt would have to go back to New York. 

That didn’t mean that Blaine hadn’t put it in the back of his mind—opting roll around in bed and forget that they both had actual lives. But about four days later, Kurt finally brought it up.

They had been kissing, Blaine straddling Kurt on the couch. Kurt broke the kiss and pushed Blaine away gently. “What’s wrong?”

Kurt patted Blaine’s hip. “I have to go back to New York soon,” he said quietly.

Blaine sighed. “I know.” He climbed off of Kurt and sat next to him instead, crossing his legs. “I’m using up all my vacation days.”

Kurt leaned over and kissed Blaine on the forehead. “The children at the hospital need you,” he said. 

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Some of them don’t even like me.”

Kurt looked over at him, unconvinced. “You love your job.”

Blaine nodded in defeat. It hadn’t been what he’d dreamed of, but he really did like his job. He loved his kids and he loved working with them. He loved helping making them better. “I do,” he said. “I want you to stay, though.”

Kurt ran a hand through his already mussed up hair. “I know.” He took Blaine’s hand. “But I have to go.”

Blaine didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was afraid of Kurt leaving, that Kurt wouldn’t come back. He wiped away a tear that had welled up. Kurt cupped his Blaine’s face in his hands. “Hey,” he said. “I’m not letting you go. Blaine—please look at me.”

“I’m scared, Kurt,” he whispered. 

“I know,” Kurt said. “You could always come with me.”

Blaine stilled. 

“What?”

Blaine chewed his lip. “I’m grateful that you’d even consider that,” he said. “But—I need to know that this is real—that we’re going to last this time. I think if we can manage a small amount of time apart, but still remain loyal—I’ll come with you. But I can’t just abandon everything I’ve had for ten years for something that’s only lasted four days.”

Kurt nodded. “I understand.” He looked disappointed.

“A few months,” Blaine said reassuringly. “That’s all.”

“Okay.” 

And then Blaine kissed him, and that was that for the rest of the night.

———

The day had come for Kurt to leave a few days later.

“You could still come with me, you know,” Kurt said, kissing the top of Blaine’s head. 

“I know…It’s just—I need to stay here a little bit longer.” 

Kurt watched his face for a long time, Blaine knew he was searching for doubt. But for the first time in a very long time, there was none. He knew what he wanted. So he lifted his head and kissed Kurt gently on the lips. “Text me when you land?”

Kurt’s lips twist up into an almost invisible smile. “Okay.” He kisses Blaine again and then walks into the airport, turning to look back at Blaine one more time before disappearing into the sea of people. 

Blaine kept looking into the crowd, even though he couldn’t see Kurt anymore. And then he turned and went home, waiting until he knew Kurt was on the plane to send him the photo he’d been looking at every day since he’d taken it.

To: Kurt

I love you. I’ll be there soon.

[ATTATCHED IMAGE]

Read on AO3 here

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Victor’s R&S - Paradise on Earth (Eng Translation)

🍒This R&S (“世间桃源”) will not be released in EN or any server as it’s one of the cancelled R&S which came with the Dream Heart Lake gacha event!🍒

This is a full translation, so it’s highly recommended that you follow along with the narrator (i.e. our beloved Mr Mills) :> 

Summary: This is Victor’s paradise on earth. It has delicacies, good wine, and stories. 

Cancelled Victor R&S:

> flashback 

> six out of seventeen 

> so-called disparity

[ Chapter 1 ]

People of my generation believe in fate.

Whether I was led into the restaurant by the fragrance of wine while passing by along the street, or meeting the manager of Souvenir and becoming a part of it - these were likely destined to happen. 

After retiring, I would frequently carry a set of keys with me and head out for a stroll. Sometimes, I’d look at what’s new in the shopping mall, and sometimes I’d do so purely because the weather was good - perhaps I was someone who just couldn’t remain idle. 

It was also because of this reason that I walked into Souvenir that day. At first, I was enticed by the fragrance of wine; afterwards, it was because of my surprise towards the manager’s capriciousness.

Finally, it was because of the culmination of years of experience that I could remain here.

At this age, I never expected to meet a friend with such an interesting personality that gelled with mine despite our age differences. 

I still remember when I walked in back then, following the fragrance of wine. I had even questioned if the restaurant was open to begin with. The entire restaurant was empty, and a man stood in the half-exposed kitchen, buried in work, looking as though he had just got a footing in life. Apart from the sound of wine being poured, the only things that could be heard in the empty area were my own footsteps. There were even echoes resounding because of the space.

Usually, I would turn around and leave if the staff didn’t attend to me, preventing me from embarrassing myself. However, on that day, such a thought didn’t cross my mind: Since I had already followed the scent of wine, I wouldn’t be satisfied until I enquired about it.

Hence, even to this day, I can still remember the first words I said to the manager.

-

[ Chapter 2 ]

Back then, I asked him this:

“Mister, how much is the wine?”

His answer naturally left a deep impression on me:

“An exorbitant price.”

He didn’t even lift his head when he said this, and his act of sealing the bottle didn't cease. If it were somebody else, they could have gotten angry in response to his arrogant attitude - it’s human nature.

However, I found this young man very interesting. If I were to put it in the popular lingo, I’d say that I saw the aura of an “artisan” in him. As such, I smiled and continued with another question: 

“In that case, what is the asking price for this exorbitance?”

Hearing this, the man finally lifted up his head from his work. 

He looked even younger than I imagined. His features were defined and regular. His expressionless face looked majestic and proud.

As compared to a restaurant, he’s more suited for politics or in the business world - Such an impression was evoked the moment one laid eyes on him, especially since he was wearing a well-fitted suit underneath his apron that day.

“That will depend...” after a short pause, the young manager changed his term of address, “it will depend on your worth.”

[Note] This part doesn’t translate well to English, but Victor basically  starts off by addressing Mr Mills as “你” (which is used when talking to peers/someone younger), then changes it to “您” (used when talking to an elder/someone you respected). Both mean “you”, but they are of different formality :>

Even though he used a more respectful term of address, his face still lacked the signature smile frequently seen on service staff. The contrast of the young man piqued my interest, and a certain gut feeling surfaced - getting to know him wouldn’t be a bad thing.

And because of this gut feeling, I made a decision I never, ever regretted. 

-

[ Chapter 3 ]

After working here for half a year, I still couldn’t make sense of the way this business was run. The opening hours depended on the boss’ mood. The “daily menu” depended on the ingredients that day, and the contents on the bill were plucked from the air.

When customers walk in, there was a 50% chance that they would get chased out, a 30% chance that the bill would leave them unpleased, and out of the remaining 20%, only 10% would become returning guests - and this percentage wasn’t guaranteed either.  

I was uncertain if it was a coincidence or an inevitability, but out of the recurring customers, most of them were celebrities from various industries. Some looked familiar, especially that well-received celebrity who appeared frequently on television. Some of them I didn’t recognise.

What differed from my imagination was that the manager didn’t concern himself with celebrities like in other businesses. In contrast, he disliked those who came simply because they were celebrities... hmm, how should I put it? Those kinds of people who came here to take pictures more than to partake in delicacies. Because of this, he specially imposed a “no photography equipment allowed” rule. 

I talked to the boss about this before. 

“The ladies just wanted to record beautiful things in life - it shouldn’t count as breaking the rules, right?”

At that time, this was what the manager said while he was busy in the kitchen:

“They can go elsewhere to record the ‘beautiful things in life’. Souvenir doesn’t need their meagre contributions.”

When he spoke, the manager didn’t have a look of unhappiness or disdain. What I heard was him purely stating a truth, but I knew that in his heart, he didn’t like those customers. If such customers came to the door, he would rather close his restaurant. 

“But, Manager, you also take pictures sometimes.”

Exactly because I had a sufficient understanding of the manager, I knew clearly that he wouldn’t lose his temper. This was why I’d take a risk sometimes - either challenging his authority as the manager, or deliberately putting him on the spot in the capacity of an elder. I just couldn’t help wanting to know what went through the mind of this young man, who was riddled with contradictions.

For someone my age, it was largely me being overly curious.

“...I take photos for the purposes of creating new dishes and adjusting the taste. As customers, all they need to do is eat.” The manager had always been taciturn, but his mind moved incredibly quickly. This is one point of him that I admired a lot. 

Our interactions were mostly intended for exploring different approaches, so there were always circumstances where we would dispute or disagree.

“Honestly speaking, I also think the dishes are presented very well, so I can understand their feelings.” Most of the dishes in Souvenir have a certain optimal period when they are best tasting - that’s what the manager was most upset about. “If they eat immediately after taking photos, it shouldn't affect the tasting experience, right?”

“Real customers... cough.” As though he thought about something funny, the manager released a dry cough to conceal his sudden laughter. “Will feel regret after finishing their food, because they realise that they haven’t taken a picture. I hope Souvenir can leave behind such happy regret.”

Now that I think about it, it’s probably because we always uphold the same standard for delicacies, that the manager employed me.

After all, whether before or after I came, I never saw hiring notices pasted in the restaurant.

-

[ Chapter 4 ]

After working here for two years, I still couldn’t make sense of the way this business was run. However, the good thing was that I had become completely used to it.

Whether it was the way the manager and I interacted, or the circumstances of work - even though I was a service staff, the scope of my work was mostly that of an assistant. After all, the restaurant had very little business.

It was probably because the boss did whatever he wanted. No matter how good his cooking was, the business of the restaurant remained subpar, and it was a good thing he wasn’t concerned about the accounts. Whenever I gave him quarterly reports of the deficit accounts, he always looked well aware of the situation. 

He would occasionally nod his head as a sign of acknowledgement. Sometimes, he would divert the topic to a new dish, and he would sometimes talk about an even more complex issue. For example, the definition of “winning and losing”, and what it meant to have an objective.

Whenever we talk about these matters, he would never put himself on a pedestal as a manager. No, it’s more like, when there are no customers around, he is never like a boss - or a big chef who is passionate about delicacies, or a modest member from the younger generation.

“This is what I think about the matter. I would like to hear your opinion.” When he said this, he furrowed his brows slightly out of habit, his gaze sincere and persistent. 

I understand that one’s opinions tend to be one-sided and flawed, but I was still happy to have a member of the younger generation listen to what I had to say.

If I didn’t happen to hear the manager picking up a work-related call, I would have almost ignored his “other side” completely.

In those two years, I had only witnessed him answering a call in Souvenir once. Before, he would always set his phone on airplane mode at the door of the restaurant. But that time, it was probably a work call he had no choice but to answer.

Although I just happened to hear the contents of his conversation, the spacious and empty room had the tendency to amplify the volume of a person’s voice. Moreover, from his tone, this call probably didn't bring with it good news. 

I turned up the faucet, hoping the sound of running water would drown out the conversation floating from the neighbouring room. 

The voice sounded stern and cold, and in keeping with the first impression he gives others. But...

It wasn’t the young man I was familiar with. 

-

[ Chapter 5 ]

The manager I was used to was someone who would hum while peeling off the shells of prawns, would be in daze as he stared at the dessert in the oven as it gradually took shape, and would open a bottle of fine wine when there’s no business in the restaurant to attend to, and share a meal while chatting with me. 

However...

Just as the manager had never asked about my family, I was not overly curious about his “other side” or even more sides of him, unless he brought it up himself. It was comparable to how took over the task of washing the dishes from me after taking the call. 

“Mr Mills... sorry, I brought my work matters into the restaurant.”

In response to his sudden apology, I couldn’t react at all--

It wasn’t because of the age difference. The manager had never made such a guarantee to me, nor was there any contract or agreement written in black and white that there was such a rule. 

Although he said that he didn’t care about the restaurant’s performance, I could vaguely hazard a guess. But that was the first time I realised: This young man... perhaps he’s giving himself too much stress. 

“Manager, you were suddenly so stern... I even thought I was going to get fired.” I laughed, trying to lighten the mood, reconcile my own emotions, and cushion the following words. 

“If I get fired at this age, when the time comes and I meet my wife, she’d definitely laugh at me.”

That was the first time I brought up my own family. On that day, I saw the rare emotion called “curiosity” in the manager’s eyes. That night after work, the manager gave me a bottle of wine, and it had a packaging that I recognised.

“Does this mean... I have to sign on for another three years?” I cracked a joke, asking the manager how much this bottle of wine was “worth”.

But this young man, thirty years younger than I, had no intention of making a joke. He shook his head and told me seriously:

“Good wine accompanies good dishes. Even when alone, you have to live well.”

He said that this was not remuneration, but a suggestion.

This bottle of wine could be considered a quarterly award.

-

As of today, the three year contract has been fulfilled.

The last time I used that bottle of wine to ask a question, it wasn’t simply a joke.

As long as my body allows for it, I hope to welcome the next three years, and the three years after that...

Just like the name of the restaurant, every moment here is a souvenir worth cherishing.

Paradise on earth is not much.

To me, it’s like that.

-

-

Other cancelled R&S: here

Lucien’s cancelled R&S (by other user): here

[random-imagines-blog]

Moment {James Ransone x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: @buckybarton03​ Wordcount: 2631 Summary: At an IT Cast Party, you fall into a really good, long conversation with a friend of James’s. But he couldn’t be jealous, could he?

With your mouth open, you couldn’t help but stare at everyone who was at the party. You were close with James Ransone, sure, but you didn’t think you would actually get invited to this A-List event! You were dressed to the nines, along with everyone else, and you stayed by James’ side as he went straight to the catering table, filling a small plate with snacks. You were too excited to eat, and too nervous that you would do something embarrassing, like spit a cracker on James McAvoy. “Oh my God, there’s Jessica. She’s absolutely stunning in person, I’m going to pass out.” You had to hold onto James’s arm for steadiness, because you felt like you were going to swoon. You were breaking one of the only rules that he had set for you this evening. Don’t embarrass him. Though when he asked you that, he was probably joking. Now there was a real risk.

“Okay, keep you away from Chastain,” James muttered under his breath, handing you a glass of champagne since you didn’t grab any food. “Just have this. And try to relax. It’s a party, not a red carpet. Be cool.”

“Cool, cool, cool,” You said, sipping at the champagne. “Yeah, I can be cool,” You said, your eyes flitting around. So many celebrities in one place, and all of them, every single one, was a gorgeous human being. “Do you mind if I just stay around you for a while? I’m still nervous.”

“I hope so, you’re my plus one. It would be rude if you just left me,” James laughed. You laughed along with him and for the hundredth time that day, you were glad that you knew someone as cool as him. He was a diamond in the rough, and a very good looking one if you did say so yourself. He was wearing a nice suit, but a casual shirt underneath it, not getting too dressed up. He looked as relaxed as you wanted to feel.

He introduced you to everyone, slowly. It wasn’t a big meet and greet, it went more organically than that. To both yours and James’ delight, you were able to keep yourself handled, even when you met Jessica Chastain. “So you’re the one that James has been talking about,” The beautiful redhead said, after you introduced yourself.

“Whatever he said, I didn’t do it. Unless it was really cool, then it was all me,” You joked, making her laugh. “No, but really, he goes on about how awesome you all are too, all the time.”

“And it’s always y/n this, and y/n that,” Jessica teased, nudging James, making him fall a little pink. You looked up at him with surprise. The fact that she remembered your name so quickly proved that she wasn’t just being polite. He really talked about you.

“Well, I’m the lucky one then, if the cast of the best movie of the year all know my name,” You said, trying to change the conversation around before you started to feel all warm and fluffy. James McAvoy joined the conversation, and then Bill Hader, and it became full of laughs. Very funny, all of them.

“I didn’t think you were real. I thought you were some sort of imaginary friend,” Bill Hader said to you, a serious expression on his face. “He made you sound too good to be true.”

“You know what’s funny?” You asked, finishing the last of your champagne. A caterer came around and took it for you, along with James’s empty plate. He was being rather quiet. “Before we left, he told me not to embarrass him. I’m starting to think that message was meant for you.”

Hader laughed pretty hard at that one, and eventually the conversation got off of you, and then back onto the movie. There was a newcomer to the conversation - Andy Bean, who only had a small role in the film but it was Stan so it was still a big character. He had moved in between you and Jessica, and you noticed that he was standing quite close. And you found yourself not really minding.

“So, did you like the movie?” Andy asked, and you found yourself in an almost one on one conversation with him. The other actors were drifting off, but James stayed by your side.

“Of course I did!” You said, surprised that he was even asking such a thing. “It was different from the book in a lot of ways, but it was really good. I mean, obviously I wish that you had more scenes but that’s more a problem with Stephen than with you. But there is one thing I wish that they hadn’t changed from the book...”

“And what’s that?” Andy asked.

You looked up at James and grinned. He groaned, figuring that something humiliating was coming his way. He was right, as per usual.

“Can you imagine Eddie wearing a little Chauffers hat? They should have stuck to the limo business, just for that alone.” You said, ruffling James’s short hair. He swatted but never actually came close to hitting you. You laughed and ducked, which only made you all the closer to Andy.

“I’m getting more food,” He grumbled and walked off, leaving just you and the other actor. He was smiling at you, and you smiled back.

“So you two seem very close,” Andy said, watching James leave to go back to where the buffet was.

“That’s what everyone keeps saying tonight,” You said, turning to look at Andy since you could see James’s back anytime you wanted, really. This was to meet new people, to have fun. “All I am going to say, before the gossip magazines start showing up, is that he is one of the best people that I know. And we’re going to leave it at that.”

“Okay, okay, defensive,” Andy said, raising an eyebrow. “He is a good guy though. I hope I get to work with him again. And the kids because they were actually really hard shoes to fill.”

“Oh my God, the kids,” You said, nodding in agreement. It turned out that you both had a lot of the same views on things, especially the movie. You wished again that he had gotten more screen time so that you could have seen him more. He was more of a stand-out guy than the movie had given him credit for.

“So yeah, I actually did do that bird jigsaw puzzle all by myself, and I’m proud of that,” Andy said, well into his third glass of champagne. You were as well, since every time Andy grabbed himself one, he’d get one for you. He was being a perfect gentlemen and you were growing impressed. It helped you to feel a lot more free, and a lot less nervous about making a good impression. It seems that James had done that for you.

“And how many pieces was that - fifty?” You teased, making him bark with laughter.

“A thousand, I’ll have you know. I worked on it when they were getting the rest of the scene ready!” He protested.

“Okay, I guess I’ll have to watch it again, just to admire your amazing puzzle skills.” You smiled. He grinned back at you, his smile rather lopsided. “

Two more drinks. The waitress just kept coming around with plates of it. Champagne was a celebration drink and there was a lot to celebrate tonight. You were getting pretty tipsy at this point, and you were so wrapped up in your conversation with Andy that you didn’t notice people were starting to leave. You were laughing at one of his on-set anecdotes when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned to see James standing there, hands in his pockets, face looking a little down.

“Cheer up buttercup!” You said, trying to give him your half-emptied glass. “Here, this is making me happy, so maybe it will do the same to you. You’re looking dour.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to get lonely tonight,” James said, not sounding impressed at all. However, you were in too a good a mood to deal with his grumpiness. You wrapped your arm around his and laid your head upon his shoulder.

“There, you’re not lonely now,” You said, motioning Andy to come and join the hug. He did, chuckling the entire time, wrapping his arms around the both of you. James stiffened, you could feel that much, but you didn’t let go of him.

“I was thinking it’s about time that we head back to the hotel anyway,” James said, after Andy had let you two go.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” You said, excited at the prospect of the big hotel beds that were in your double room. “Andy, I must get your number.”

“I must give it to you!” He said, taking hold of a napkin and scrawled some numbers on there. You took it with a smile, folding it in your hand so the ink wouldn’t transfer onto your skin. “It was lovely to meet you, y/n. And always good to see you, James.”

“Yeah, you too,” James said, putting his hand lightly on your shoulder and lead you out of the party to where the car was waiting. You slipped inside first, getting yourself comfortable when James came in after you. He seemed to be in the most sullen mood. A little too-Eddie like, you noticed.

“Okay, come on buttercup,” You said, putting your hand on his knee and gave it a squeeze. “Fess up. There’s something on your mind and I want to know what it is.”

James sighed dramatically, looking out the window. I bent forward, trying to swerve under him to get him to look at me. “Quit it,” He said, but you noticed that his mouth went up a twitch. He couldn’t stay mad at you.

“Come on, please? It was a fun party, you shouldn’t be scowling.”

“You and Andy seemed to be getting along pretty well.”

“And that’s why you’re being a frowny face? I thought you wanted me to get along with your friends... Unless...” You gasped in surprise. Due to the drink, it came out more dramatic than intentioned. “Are you being jealous, Mr Ransome?”

“No,” He said, but he said it too quickly. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Well, there’s two possible reasons. One is that you don’t want me close to Andy because you wanted his attention all night or...” You blinked at him, realization coming across you. “Or the second is I’ve been a bad date because I spent almost the whole time talking to someone else. Gee, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” He said, grunting, still refusing to look over at you. “You were having fun-”

“But I was being rude.” You put your head on his shoulder, trying to entice him to look at you again. You even did your puppy dog pout, which finally made him catch your eye. You made sure to keep up the contact so that he wouldn’t be able to look away again. “James, I’m really sorry. I just got kind of carried away. It’s really nice to have someone else to talk to about you.”

“You were talking about me?” He asked, in a tone of disbelief.

“Quite a bit actually. What else do I have to talk about? You’re the person that I do everything with. And that I make all my plans with. I was telling him about the trip that we’re going to take to the beach in the Summer, just you and I. He said it sounded fun, but I think I got the point across that it’s just supposed to be the two of us.”

“Oh,” James said, having the good sense to feel a little embarrassed. “I didn’t know that you were talking about me.”

“Should have,” You said, noticing his fingers inching closer to your leg. “You’re my favorite person in the whole world. Am I your favorite?”

“You have to ask?” He questioned you, making you grin like you had the first time that you had met him and realized just how your life was going to be positively impacted.

“Yup,” You said, popping the P. You took hold of his hand, lifted it, and set it down upon your own thigh so he would have to feel the luxurious fabric of your outfit. He stiffened in his seat, but his fingers went a little further, squeezing your thigh. “I’m sorry I ruined our date. Can I make it up to you?”

“You’ve been drinking, y/n,” James said, sounding apprehensive.

“Liquid courage,” You said, leaning in. You leaned in to finally kiss those lips that you’ve been wanting for a while, but never had the bravery to go for. But he stopped you by turning his head, so you got his cheek. You pouted with disappointment, and he sighed, taking his hand back. What a drama queen, you thought.

“I can’t, not when you’ve been drinking. If you were sober maybe, but-”

“I only had a couple of drinks. I know what I’m doing. I’m still in control of myself. James. Just ... please?”

James looked worried, stressed and a little happy at the same time. It was a weird mix to see on his face, but you found it endearing. Even more so when you realized that he was rejecting you, not because he wanted to, but because he didn’t want to take advantage. “No,” He said again.

The car pulled in front of the hotel, and he got out quickly, but still stuck around to offer you his hand to get out onto the sidewalk.

“Okay. I’ll give up - for now. But don’t think that these are just tipsy thoughts,” You said, holding onto his side as you entered the hotel, making for the elevator so you could go to your room. “Because I’ve kinda loved you for a long time and I was just so happy that I could finally tell someone about it that I almost ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything - hey, mind the buttons,” He said, as you nearly tumbled inside, your hip hitting a couple of buttons for floors that you weren’t going to. It was going to be a long ride up to your floor. You smiled at him teasingly and pressed a couple more, making him groan. “What are you doing?”

“Making the ride last longer, you said gleefully. “I know you don’t want me to kiss you but can I hug instead?”

“Yeah, I guess,” He said. You wrapped your arms around his neck and nuzzled your face against his shoulder, taking in the smell of the cologne that he was wearing that night. “It’s not that I don’t want to...” He said, as the doors opened and then closed on an empty floor.

“Do you love me too?” You asked, trying to feel his heartbeat through your own chest, but all that you could place was yours. It was going quickly.

“You know I do,” He said, more to himself than to you.

“So I can kiss you in the morning when I’m sober?”

“I.. I guess you could.”

“Good. Come on elevator, I gotta go to bed so I can wake up!”

[watusichris]

My Brilliant Career in Chicago Pro Wrestling: A True Story

Damn, I could have sworn I’d posted this 2015 Night Flight story, which remains the funniest thing I’ve ever written. Every word is true. ********** In the early 1970s, before Vince McMahon’s World Wrestling Federation (today World Wrestling Entertainment) turned professional wrestling into a pay-per-view cash cow, pro grappling was a wide-open game run by maverick regional promoters and catering to lunatic fans. I got to experience this incredible world intimately: For two years, I served as “publicist” for the promoter in one of the biggest wrasslin’ towns in the country, Chicago.

I was fresh out of college back in 1972, and returned to my old room in my mother’s apartment in Evanston bearing a seemingly worthless bachelor’s degree in English and no immediate prospects for gainful employment. Fortunately, my father believed in nepotism.

After a long career as a TV executive that had garnered him two Peabody Awards, my dad was then the general manager of WSNS, a Chicago UHF station that broadcast on Channel 44. It was a low-rent operation that my old man helped legitimize by securing telecasts of White Sox games. (He loathed Sox announcer Harry Caray, who would get hammered out of his skull while working in the booth, and rightly thought major league screwball-turned-color man Jimmy Piersall was out of his mind.)

Though such questionable WSNS programming as a daily late-night weathercast delivered by a buxom negligee-clad blonde stretched out on a heart-shaped bed was a thing of the past, colorful holdovers from the old schedule remained. And thus my dad called me one day to say he could get me some part-time work doing PR for Bob Luce, the local pro wrestling promoter, who mounted the weekly show All Star Championship Wrestling on the station.

Naturally, I was hired on the spot at my first meeting with Luce, who was something of a legend in Chicago sports circles at the time. Chicago Sun-Times columnist Bob Greene captured had him perfectly in a famous column in which every sentence ended with an exclamation point.

Stocky, florid of complexion, and as loud as his off-the-rack sport coats, the outsized Luce was the dictionary definition of the word “character.” You’d sit down with him in a restaurant, and the other diners would duck and cover. Constantly agitated and gesticulating wildly, his stentorian conversation was a manic torrent of hype and madness, punctuated by explosive laughter than sounded like a machine gun going off next to your ear.

Fittingly, before joining the wrestling biz, Luce had edited a tabloid, the National Tattler. Like the National Enquirer of that frontier era, the rag made its bones with totally fictitious “news” stories featuring lots of cleavage and outré bloodletting. At one lunch, to the very evident embarrassment of the neighboring clientele, Luce regaled me with the tale of one inspired Tattler cover story, which I will recount Greene-style. Imagine it at full volume: “I got this idea, see, for a story about a sex orgy! [He pronounced “orgy” with a hard “g,” as in “Porgy” of Porgy and Bess.] But it had to be a different kind of orgy! So I got my wife Sharon to take her clothes off and covered her with peanut butter! And we took some pictures, and the lights were HOT, and the peanut butter melted all over her! They were great pictures! We called it – ha ha HA! – ‘PEANUT BUTTER ORGY!’”

Luce had graduated to promoting pro wrestling events in Chicago and other Midwestern markets, in partnership with the American Wrestling Association’s star attractions, Verne Gagne and Dick the Bruiser, of whom more in a moment. (His sweet, funny, but definitely tough wife knew the business: She had wrestled under the name Sharon Lass.)

As the noisy host of All Star Championship Wrestling, Luce would interview the stars of his upcoming promotions, show footage of recent contests, and pump the next matches. Thrusting a finger at the camera in one of his windups, he would shriek, “BE THERE!!!” Ever the sales impresario, he also served as the show’s principal pitchman, appearing in tandem with some of his hulking charges -- and occasionally with special guest hucksters like former heavyweight champ Leon Spinks -- to spiel for a long line of sketchy local advertisers. They are among the greatest and most hilarious commercials ever made.

As Luce’s publicity rep, commanding a monthly paycheck of $200, I was charged with lightweight duty: writing and mailing press releases promoting the bi-weekly Friday night matches at the Chicago International Amphitheatre, assisting the WSNS camera crew at the gigs (sometimes by protecting their extra film magazines from flying bodies at ringside), and calling in the results of the matches to the local papers. (The last task proved to be the most onerous. I’d ring up the local sports desks late on the nights of the matches and harangue some half-drunk, bored assistant editor whose interest in the “sport” could not have been more infinitesimal. When I finally managed to get the Sun-Times to print the results of one match, I felt as if I’d qualified for a Publicists Guild award.) I also performed certain functions for Luce when he was out of town or too busy to handle them. One weekday afternoon I accompanied Superstar Billy Graham, later a big WWF name and a sort of proto-Hulk Hogan, to Wrigley Field, where he was interviewed by nonplussed announcer Jack Brickhouse between innings of a Chicago Cubs radio broadcast.

Every other week for nearly two years, I’d take the El down to the Amphitheatre, located on Halsted Street on the far South Side, adjacent to the old Chicago Stock Yards. (I held onto the job even after I secured a similarly nepotistic but full-time position – writing about cheap component stereo systems for Zenith Radio Corporation.) The antique, immense Amphitheatre had hosted big political conventions, auto shows, circuses, rodeos, and concerts by Elvis Presley, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin, but Luce’s dates at the venue, as you will see, attracted a distinctly different class of customer.

The pre-match staging area, where I’d meet Luce and the crew, was the Sirloin Room of the adjacent Stock Yard Inn, not far from the site of the old South Side cattle slaughterhouses. This is where Luce’s employees and pals would also convene before the night’s entertainment began to swill a couple of cocktails and shoot the breeze. It was a cast worthy of a Damon Runyon story.

Luce employed a bodyguard, a towering ex-Chicago cop named Duke, who had reputedly shot six men before being relieved of duty by the PD. He stood about six-four and dressed exactly like John Shaft. He emanated an aura of extreme menace. Once, when I asked him what he would do if someone actually started any serious trouble, Duke wordlessly pulled back the lapel of his full-length leather coat to reveal a shoulder holster bulging with a .44 Magnum.

The promotion’s bagman, charged with collecting the night’s cash receipts, was a diminutive cat everyone called Bill the Barber. I never knew his last name, but he did in fact run a South Side barbershop. He’d invariably show up dressed in a sport coat that looked like a TV test pattern and a skinny-brim fedora, with watery eyes that sometimes flicked nervously above his pencil-thin mustache. He kept a .38 strapped to his belt.

Many nights, a mysterious character referred to only as “Carmie La Papa” would put in an appearance. This elderly Italian gentleman was always treated with great deference and ate on Luce’s tab. I never found out exactly what he did. But he looked a lot like the mobster played by Pasquale Cajano in Martin Scorsese’s Casino, and I thought it wise not to inquire about his line of work.

There were also bona fide wrestling groupies, well-stacked, slightly haggard old-school broads who draped themselves on the bar, sipping pink ladies. One night, Luce leaned over to me in the Sirloin Room and said, in a whisper that could be heard 20 feet away, “After the matches, these girls and the guys go to a motel up in Prospect Heights, and they have orgies.” (Again, pronounced with a hard “g.”) The most popular of these was reportedly Gloria, a tall, pneumatic redhead of uncertain but rapidly advancing age; Luce confided, “She will do anything.”

The matches themselves were something to behold. I’d usually watch them in the company of WSNS’s young, jaded camera crew, from the dilapidated press box high above the ring in the center of the Amphitheatre. The crowd – thousands of poorly dressed, myopic, malodorous, and steeply inebriated men – was a product of what may be called the pre-ironic era of pro wrestling. There was no such thing as a suspension of disbelief among these spectators. Disbelief did not exist. Though the matches were as closely stage-managed as a production of Richard III, these rubes accepted every feigned punch and bogus drop kick as the McCoy.

Pro wrestling is the eternal contest between virtue and evil, and the wrestlers were identified in equal number as good guys and heels. Most of the good guys on the undercard – there were usually half a dozen matches, with one main event – were young “scientific” wrestlers whose Greco-Roman moves were no match for the brazenly illegal play of the dirty heels, who almost invariably won their bouts with tactics that would not pass muster with an elementary school playground monitor, let alone a legitimate referee. About the only one of these “babyfaces” (or, alternatively, “chumps”) who was vouchsafed an occasional victory was Greg Gagne, son of the promotion’s star attraction and part owner.

By the early ‘70s, Verne Gagne had been wrestling professionally for more than two decades; drafted by the Chicago Bears and then rebelling against team owner George Halas’ prohibition of a sideline on the mat, he had chosen the ring over the gridiron. He was 46 years old when I started working for Luce; he was still in decent shape, and, unlike almost all of his opponents, he still had all of his teeth.

I only managed to spend time with him once. For some reason now lost in the dense fog of time, Luce dispatched me to meet Gagne at the elegant Pump Room of the Drake Hotel near Lake Michigan. There, as cabaret star Dorothy Donegan serenaded us on the piano, the 16-time world heavyweight wrestling champion of the world got me brain-dead drunk, and then poured me into a cab home. He was an excellent guy.

Many of the other good guys on Luce’s undercards were reliable patsies for the baddies. Pepper Gomez, one of the domestic game’s few Mexican stars, was a venerable attraction who was allowed the rare triumph; billed as “the Man with the Cast-Iron Stomach,” he once allowed a Volkswagen Bug to be driven over his gut on Luce’s TV show, where he was a frequent guest.

One of my favorites was Yukon Moose Cholak. Then a veteran of 20 years on the mat, Moose owned a bar not far from the Amphitheatre, but he still worked regularly for his close pal Luce in the AWA. Huge, pot-bellied, and benign, he boasted a ripe Sout’ Side accent rivaled only by Dennis Farina’s. He was hardly an exceptional combatant: He moved around the ring with the fleetness of a dazed sloth. He was a regular on Luce’s show, and often appeared with the host in his TV spots.

The only time I appeared as a guest on All Star Championship Wrestling, Moose was the victim of the on-camera carnage that was a requisite feature of the show. At the time, conflict of interest be damned, I was writing a column about wrestling for a short-lived local sports paper called Fans, and was brought in to lend something like legitimacy to the proceedings. Luce offered me a chair on his threadbare set to push a forthcoming match between Cholak, who appeared on camera next to me, and Handsome Jimmy Valiant, a new heel on the rise in the market.

I figured something ugly was going to happen, but I went about extolling the virtues of Moose’s nearly non-existent mat skills in the front of the camera. Suddenly, Valiant crept up from behind the black scrim behind us and whacked Cholak over the head with a metal folding chair. To this day, I believe my expression of outraged surprise was worthy of a local Emmy, but a nomination eluded me.

I was actually very fond of Valiant, whom I interviewed with his “brother” and tag team partner Luscious John Valiant for Fans. Jimmy was a peroxided, strutting egomaniac in the grand Gorgeous George manner, and he had some classic patter: “I’m da wimmen’s pet and da men’s regret! I got da body wimmen love and men fear! And you, you’re as useful as a screen door in a submarine, daddy!” A rock ‘n’ roll fan, he went on to a very successful solo career, appropriately enough in Memphis, the capital of all things Elvis.

After Gagne the elder, the AWA’s biggest attraction was the tag team of Dick the Bruiser and the Crusher. Bruiser had gotten his competitive start as a linebacker for the Green Bay Packers, but had been a top wrestling draw since 1955. Somewhere along the way, he had been converted from heel to hero, and the Chicago fans adored him. Among the merch sold at the Amphitheatre were Dick the Bruiser Fan Club buttons; measuring six inches in diameter, they could either be pinned on one’s chest or, with the aid of a built-in cardboard stand, be displayed as a plaque. I kept mine on my desk at my straight job to freak out my co-workers.

Early in my gig with Luce, I was taken to meet Bruiser in the locker room. He sat on a table smoking a huge cigar. When I was introduced to him, he exclaimed, “Hey, you’re Ed Morris’ kid? You got more hair than your old man!” My father, who was in fact almost completely bald, had been known to associate with winners of the Nobel and Pulitzer Prizes. I was a little surprised that he ran in Bruiser’s circle.

The Crusher’s career in the squared circle dated back to the late ‘40s. I was even more impressed by him than I was by the Bruiser, for he had been the inspiration of the Novas’ wrasslin’-themed single “The Crusher,” a huge 1965 radio hit in Chicago for the Minnesota garage band the Novas (and later eloquently covered by the Cramps). Bruiser and Crusher were a unique combo: They were “good guys,” but they earned their keep by being badder than the “bad guys” they gutter-stomped.

The villains in that era of pro wrestling were often the object of atavistic xenophobia and hatred. Long before the U.S.’s conflicts in the Middle East, the Sheik (né Ed Farhat in Lansing, Michigan), who took the ring wearing a burnoose, was among the most reviled of heels. Some of the older fans were World War II vets, and they lustily booed Baron von Raschke, who climbed through the ropes with a monocle in one eye, draped in a Nazi flag. He was actually a U.S. Army vet born Jim Raschke in Omaha, Nebraska. His fake German accent was utterly feeble.

The AWA’s all-purpose villain, who would go on to bigger things as one of McMahon’s first WWF stars, was “Pretty Boy” Bobby Heenan, dubbed “the Weasel” by the Bruiser. Heenan was featured in his own matches, but he was most reliably entertaining as a manager, of the most duplicitous and cowardly variety, in another villain’s corner. You didn’t need a script to know what was going to happen: Just as it looked like the good guy was going to triumph, Heenan would leap into the ring and smash the apparent victor’s head into a turnbuckle or hit him over the skull with a water bucket.

Heenan featured in the most outrageous story I heard during my brilliant career in wrestling. One night I was sitting with the film crew when Al Lerner, the mustachioed, shaggy-haired, bespectacled WSNS sports reporter, entered the press box with a portable tape machine on his shoulder and a stunned look on his face. “I’ve interviewed people in front of burning buildings,” Al said. “I’ve interviewed people as they were jumping out of airplanes. But I’ve never interviewed anyone while they were getting a blowjob.”

It seems that while Al was in the locker room recording some audio bites from Heenan, a voluptuous girl standing nearby walked over to the wrestler, kneeled down in front of him, pulled down his trunks, and began giving him the kind of pre-match service Mickey Rourke probably dreamed of but never received. As she went about her business, Heenan continued to spout invective to Al as if nothing extraordinary was transpiring. With that moment alone, Bobby Heenan earned his place in the Professional Wrestling Hall of Fame.

I visited Heenan in the locker room on a somewhat less eventful evening, but that night I learned the secret of many pros’ mat success. As I was talking to him, I noticed that his forehead was crosshatched with tiny scars, some of them new and still livid. I later mentioned this to one of the crew, and was told that these wounds – referred to as “juicing”  -- were actually self-inflicted, so that the wrestlers could easily draw blood during critical moments of violence in their matches.

As Heenan said in a later interview, “If you want the green, you gotta bring the red.” Gore was a staple of pro wrestling, and there was nothing like sitting in an arena filled with 10,000 or 15,000 crazed spectators and hearing a drunken chant go up as a good guy pummeled a heel to the mat: “WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD! WE WANT BLOOD!”

My last hurrah in pro wrestling was one of Luce’s rare alfresco promotions, a multi-bout 1974 card at old Comiskey Park, the White Sox’s stadium, which climaxed with a 16-man battle royal. I don’t remember who triumphed in the main event, but I do remember that someone on the crew brought a bat and some softballs along, and we ended the evening shagging fly balls under the lights where Nellie Fox and Luis Aparicio once played.

The outlaw era of regional pro wrestling is a dim memory for most. The racket would get wilder after I left it: In an interview with Nashville wrestling figure Jimmy Cornette, Heenan said that a fan at a 1975 Amphitheatre match pulled out a pistol and began firing at him, but the shooter only managed to wound four people in the rows in front of him.

McMahon’s WWF brought the regional promoters’ day to a close, pillaging most of the big names in the game in the process. Today, the WWE has been displaced in popularity by the even gaudier UFC contests. Most of the stars I met – including Bruiser, Crusher, and Cholak – are dead now. Heenan, a throat cancer survivor, has been in poor health for more than a decade. Verne Gagne died this April; in 2009, suffering from dementia, he accidentally killed a 97-year-old fellow resident in a Minnesota assisted living facility. Even the old stomping grounds are gone: The Chicago Amphitheatre was razed in 1999.

Bob Luce passed away in 2007, but his wild-ass legacy may live on via an unlikely champion. There are many analogs between pro wrestling and rock ‘n’ roll, and this April, mat mega-fan Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins announced on Twitter that he had bought Luce’s memorabilia and an archive of 9,000 vintage wrestling photos. Maybe he and former Hüsker Dü front man Bob Mould, a fellow wrasslin’ aficionado who once worked for McMahon as a writer, can make something of it. That would rock. 

[happy-beeeps]

Salty kisses

gif not mine!!

Pairing: Obi-Wanxsenator!reader

Rating: PG13, things get steamy for like three seconds

WC: 3k

Summary: Balancing life and war has been straining, so under the guise of a festival, Obi-Wan accompanies you back to your home system for a vacation along the beach, romance ensues.

AN: I’M BACK!!!!!!! I’m finally settled, I’ve started school, and I’m ready to write. Thankful for my online friends who were so patient with me, and my readers who still follow :,) y’all mean the world to me!!!

* * *

Your hands wind their way around Obi’s broad shoulders and rest along the roughed up linen of his vest. The muscles in his shoulders climb nearly up to his ears as they tense up, his eyes raking over mission reports that glare across his datapad. It’s funny, the way he reminds you of yourself in this moment you can almost see him in your office, sitting behind your glass desk going over bills and speeches.

“You’re on leave and yet you still work too much,” you chide, pressing a soft kiss against 

his bearded cheek. He turns up to smile at you, and the circles that grow under his eyes alarm you. He hasn’t been sleeping well and you know it. “The council let Anakin take the lead for the next few weeks on the front, they thought I needed time to rest.”

“The war is coming to a tipping point, and they need you ready.”

“That is precisely my assumption.” With that, he leans back onto the chaise in your living space and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Do you ever just want to escape, just go somewhere else?” His brows furrow up at you,

“I don’t know what you mean?”

“I want to get away from it all, I want to lay somewhere beautiful with you and just be two people, I just want to forget about the war, forget about politics, and just be in love.” You sigh, resting a head on his shoulder. Suddenly, it strikes you. “Obi-Wan, I want to go home.”

“Home? We are home! Do you mean, Spira home?”

“There’s a festival this time of year, it isn’t the most important tradition, I planned on skipping it this year anyway so the council wouldn’t have to send anyone, but if you’re already on leave and you’re supposed to be protecting me anyway…”

“I… suppose you could pose it to the council? I can’t guarantee they’ll agree, they may need me available for anything that poses a threat on any front.”

“Well then I’ll just have to ask nicely.”

Obi Wan sighed at that, he knew better than to argue with you when you got like this, all stubborn and full of emotion. The kind of emotional complexity he wished he could dip into. With your help, he’d finally been able to start expressing himself, and actually start feeling. Plus, he had to admit, as you spoke, you were selling him on it more and more. It was a sun celebration, he had gathered, and it included festivals and dancing and delicious food along Spira’s warm beaches. Now, however, you had reminded him how perfect an assassination attempt would be, both encouraging him to come with you and inadvertently increasing his anxiety towards the trip by a landslide. You, on the other hand, were content that your plan was falling into place, and busied yourself by dressing in your most senatorial garb to go pitch your concerns to the council. 

* * *

“Your concerns, we do see, Senator. Unsure we are, of our abilities to spare a Jedi to guard you.” Master Yoda began, as you stood projected before the council. You had carefully planned your appearance, your most feminine gown, the biggest girls. Obi-Wan could see it, you were making yourself look weak, fragile. Even though he knew you were simply sitting in your office just a quick trip away, he just wanted to reach through the holo and protect you.

How hard it was to guard his thoughts against Master Yoda.

“We are approaching a breaking point, I’m unsure if we’ll be able to spare a Jedi for the entire duration of the festival.” “Master Windu, I assure you, my presence is only needed during the first half, perhaps even a few less days. Surely there must be some Jedi you have available, I feel exposed in such travel and going to such an event like this, where I’m expected to be.” Master Windu thought for a moment, running the calculations through his head. If he was any closer to saying yes, he didn’t show it. Shaak Ti, though communicating through hologram herself, could see the desperation in the young woman’s voice. Desperation and, something else, something she couldn’t quite place. Longing, perhaps? “Master Windu, do we not have Master Kenobi on leave at the moment? Surely he could do council work during the days of the festival and guard our lovely Senator?” With a snicker, Yoda piped up at this, sending a smile to Obi-Wan, and then to yourself. “A point, Shaak Ti does make. A waste it would be, to have Master Kenobi here, and you unprotected. Go with you, he shall.”

“For half the festival.” Windu added. 

You smiled at home graciously, before beaming at Obi-Wan. “Wonderful. Half the festival indeed.”

* * *

“Obi, can you make sure you count three garment bags? The large ones?”

“Love, surely you don’t need two bags, and three garment bags? We are only going six days.”

“You are forgetting that I am there as Senator, and I’ll be in my parent’s estate. My mother is one of the best dressed socialites on Spira you know.”

“Your, your parent’s estate?”

“Of course! It’s customary for families in Spira to have their own land, as you age, you move into your own bungalow, but on the family land. We’ll be staying on our own, but it’s expected for me to be with my family for the festival, and as my bodyguard, you have to come.”

“I suppose I never thought that I’d be meeting your parents.” Obi-Wan said, busying himself with anything he could as you rose and walked over to him. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you kissed his neck. “Are you nervous about meeting my parents? They’ll only know you as my bodyguard, as a Jedi.”

“But what if, what if one day we told them, and they knew? Surely I must make a good impression.” You smoothed his hair and rested your hand along his cheek. He pressed a small kiss to your palm before you spoke again. “Master Kenobi, I don’t think you’ve ever made a bad first impression.”

Wardrobe packed, schedule created, you and Obi-Wan stood now on the platform outside your ship. You were dressed in a light, flouncy gown with a bright chartreuse color, hair long down your back and pushed out of your face by an ornate, beaded band. Padme had come to see you off, her belly just barely peeking through the heavy fabrics she covered herself in. You wondered if any would begin to notice that her tiny frame was benign dwarfed by her gowns, and ask questions on why. “Have a wonderful time!” She whispered in your ear as she hugged you close. Obi-Wan was assisting your security detail in loading the ship, and preparing any last minute suggestions he could. Even with his presence there, he was still worried about your safety. You pressed your hands against your friend’s stomach, still too early to feel any kicks, but the knowledge that something was happening there was enough. “Be safe,” Padme said, and with a slight wink added, “and not just from assassins.” You rolled your eyes and laughed before glancing at Obi-Wan over your shoulder. “Well, I should be off!” With a final wave goodbye, you and Obi-Wan boarded the ship, setting off on your retreat.

* * *

If Obi-Wan had seen a more beautiful planet, he would be surprised. Turquoise waters and white sandy beaches, speckled with bungalows and multicolored homes along cliffs and sandbars, spreading inwards into the island. From his understanding of it all, the capital was located more inland, but most family land was spread out along the beaches. Your property in particular was only a few klicks away from the bustling city center. As he understood, this main island was named Ataria Island, and the main city was Ataria city. You descended into the city, and stepped off the ship into a small crowd, dignitaries and politicians were there to greet you, showering you and Obi-Wan in flowers of every size in color. You had told them this was a formality, but to expect even more with the Sun Festival. It had been awhile since you had been home, too many rotations to count, and you missed the way the sun warmed your skin, or the way the salty air was already attaching itself to your hair and face. As you and Obi-Wan climbed into the monorail, you wonder if this was new for him, if a system like this was something he had ever been to before.

The monorail ride to your land was quick, blurring past all the multicolored homes that lined entrances into family settlements. Seeing the colors of the homes, the fauna, even the creatures here, Obi-Wan began to see where your colorful wardrobe got its inspiration. You soon traded the monorail for a speeder as you neared your land. As the speeder pulled into a plot near a few tall cliffs, the sprawling landscape ahead of him changed. Houses of white, blue, pink, green, and yellow peaked out amongst leafy trees and meilroon fruit bushes. There were some families outside, and all of them waived to you with excitement, and you waived back with a massive grin. Suddenly, it struck him. “Does your entire family live here?”

“Of course! That’s tradition, everyone who lives here is related somehow, whether it’s through marriage or blood. Husbands and wives get to pick which land to live on, those who are more commercial stay closer to the city center, but my family has always loved being waterfront.” Waterfront you were. The speeder stopped in front of a large white house with transparisteel covering every wall, you could see the bright water and sunlight practically drip through the house. “Well with views like this, I suppose I see why everyone seems to stay on your family’s land.”

“That one over there,” you gestured to a yellow house with artistic white accents, wrapped in vines and flowers, “Is mine, we started building it when I was just a representative. This white one is my parent’s. They’re the heads of house as of now, the land was left to my mother.”

As if on cue, two people stepped out onto the porch. Your security staff began bringing in your luggage, taking it down the path into the yellow house, while Obi-Wan helped you out of the speeder before turning to face your parents. “Relax my love.” you whispered as he helped you out, before turning into a full bodied sprint into their arms. “Mum, Dad! Hello!”

“Darling! We’re so happy to have you home. We’ve been seeing things on the holo, all the threats. We’re so proud of you, we think Spira is doing much better with the protection of the Republic-” your dad said, before your mom chimed in, “Darro, stop it. Our little one is home with us for holiday, surely politics can wait.” Your mother seemed to be a kind woman, and Obi-Wan could see where your intelligence and compassion came from. Your father however, was a spitfire, yet he could see there was a hospitable streak. He chose this moment to break the comfortable silence that settled around them to introduce himself. “General Obi-Wan Kenobi, I was sent on behalf of the Jedi Council and the Republic to keep her safe this week, no harm shall come to her, or any of you, while I’m here.” He’d said, hoping to sound confident. It was funny, Obi-Wan was a confident man, he was suave and well spoken, yet speaking to your parents terrified him. You would tease him about this later, he was sure of that. “Pleasure to meet you General Kenobi, your reputation precedes you. I’m grateful for your commitment to our daughter.” you stifled a smirk at that one. “I’m Darro Olpher, and this is my wife, Sella.”

“It truly is an honor to host a Jedi Master in our home. I’m assuming you’ll be staying with our daughter in her home?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble, it makes it much easier to protect her.”

“For our daughter’s safety, nothing is too much trouble.”

The festivities started tomorrow, and for that you were grateful. Today had already been a day of family reunion, and that came with its own parties. You had indulged in more than your fair share of wine. Ever the gentleman, Obi-Wan had helped you home and left you to dress, biding his time meditating on the oceanfront balcony of your home. You found him there now, tunic discarded around him, settling for more comfortable trousers and a light, open shirt. “It is beautiful here, I can’t imagine why you’d ever move to Coruscant.” He said as he felt you approach next to him. Careful to smooth out the hem of your short sleep gown, you sat next to him and rested your head along his shoulder, ignoring the way his beard tickled the top of your forehead. “It is amazing, but I had a calling to help people in any way I could. My family solidified that.”

“Your family are lovely people.”

“And they adored you, even just as a Jedi,” he leaned down and kissed the top of your head at this, “they’re just… blinded.”

“How so?”

“My mother and father moved here when they were wed, my mother comes from a long line of professional athletes, Spira is known for its water sports. She was a water dancer, and a very good one at that. My father’s family owns a large hotel, not the biggest by any means, but a large one at that, and has awarded him a large fortune. Their land is closer to Atari City, we’ll need to visit there later. I guess I’ve lived a very charmed life, and I know that isn’t the same for everyone.”

“So you jumped into politics to make a difference and help your citizens?” “But not just mine, sure, I wanted pay rates to go up for the off-worlders who move here, I wanted the quality of life to increase, to protect our land, but I accomplished that as a representative. Most of this has been a work in progress before we met, before the war, when I was just a Senator and not a target, but I’ve been trying to increase our outreach. Hire more people, create more opportunity, and lower spaceport fees to welcome others. We're establishing an artists colony here! And soon, maybe even farming.” you stood up and leaned against the railing, looking at the sparkling water under the moonlight. “People were afraid to vote for me because they thought I would be just another heiress.” you said, breathing out a sigh in frustration. “But look what you’ve accomplished darling,” Obi-Wan held you waist from behind and stared out at the water with you. After a few minutes of comfortable silence settling around you like a light shawl, he spoke again. “Would you say the water here is warm even at night?”

* * *

“You bloody liar this water is not warm enough for a swim.” Obi-Wan had shouted as he stared up at you from the ocean. You were standing above him on the cliff he had just jumped off of, smirking at him.  “Stop being a baby, the water is fine, plus it doesn’t matter whose right. I’ve got the high ground!” You yelped, taking a running start before meeting him in the salty waters below. Your head popped up beside his, and you splashed a little water up at his face. He smiled over at you instead, pulling your hands and bringing you over to a little sandbar. When he found his footing, he settled instead on wrapping you up in his arms and placing your legs around his waist. His calloused hands settled on your back and gently cupped your cheek as you pressed your forehead against his. You loved seeing him like this, the slightest hint of freckles bridging his nose, sandy hair smoother back from the water. “I love you, more than I can ever get to show you, and that is my biggest weakness.”

“You show me everyday, you don’t need some grand statement or some testimony to prove it.”

“What if when this is all over, we run away, we come here, we stay in your little yellow house and you paint pictures and I’ll drive the monorail?”

“Obi, I could never ask you to do that.” You sighed, and he smiled back, “I know, and I love you even more for it. Had you ever said the word-”

You cut him off with a kiss. His hands wrapped even tighter around you, pressing your body against his in the cold water, squeezing you so tight you’d think you were made of stardust and he was just trying to hold pieces of you together. Likewise, you were breathing him in. The taste of saltwater on his lips, the air clashing with that fading scent of his, something woodsy and leather. It was being replaced with something new, ocean air and linen. You could drink this moment in, hands in his hair, arms around your bare back. The moments you got were scarce as this war neared completion. You had seen the plans, soon enough Anakin and himself were being sent to a far off dusty planet, the siege was supposed to last a while, and they were still hunting for Dooku and Grievous. These few days were most likely all you would have for a while. But they would be enough.

When he finally pulled away, pressing soft kisses into your shoulder, your neck, anywhere he could, love swelled in your chest just looking at him. Frankly, for him, it was the same if not worse. To Obi-Wan Kenobi, you were the one who hung the stars in the sky, the one who all beautiful things were created for. He twisted you off his waist and onto his back as he swam toward the beach.

“Come on my love, let's go back home.”

[shyrose57]

3: Over time people have found a way to make potions last longer, but theres also a way to make them permanent until a different potion counteracts it, but its very hard to do this and most people die trying to do it because the potion gets highly unstable that even a simple tap can make the potion explode. Raq knew how to make a potion permanent, so after managing to successfully make a permanent one, he just had to throw it on Ran and wait until he was left alone to get him. 

4: The fishermen have made a pretty soild plan to follow when this reaction to touch is suspected to be happening. First they of course ask him if touch is ok, and if he says no then they just stay by and give him a blanket. If he cant/doesn't respond then they decide to not touch him incase it causes a bad reaction. And still remain nearby, but they also attempt to comfort him more directly by sitting as close as possible and repeating comforting words and sentences to him. 

10: Oh definitely, in fact the fact that Ran is blind almost starts a fight when Asidi reaches to grab Ran and Grievous gets in the way, yelling at him to back off. Which gets not only Asidi mad but also makes Ran afraid. Which just ramps up the tension ten fold. To the point there may be a full out fist fight, until Lucia thankfully notices Rans predicament and manages to get them inside for the antidote, with Siren stepping up to talk to Asidi. A antidote for a permanent blindness potion would consist of a mix of water and milk, a fermented spider eye to temporarily weaken his immune systems so the antidote can get fully in, a Ghast tear (regeneration so slowly allow the sight back as to not overwhelm the person), and a golden carrot (its a vision based ingredient in general), and glistening  melon (healing to help push the blindness out while also just numbing the person in general). Then a day later or when signs start to show of the vision coming back, a potion of strength to help the immune system strengthen back up and help get the last bit of the blindness potion out hopefully. Most potions do have a counter potion, but it's only the really complex or permanent potions that have a deemed antidote (difference is the counter is just 1 potion and 1 or 2 ingredients. A antidote is a mix of multiple different potions and ingredients making it more complex). It takes Ran longer than he'd like to admit to get used to it again, he has to do small practices like walking around or running around a room, picking up a pencil and writing, just doing simple hand eye coordination exercises to get used to sight again. But at first when his sight starts to slowly come back he starts to relax a bit more, he's still scared and clings to someone until its almost fully back though. And then he just starts having Watson or Benjamin around to help him get used to it again. He is deeply embarrassed when he learns how he acted when he was blind, and it takes a while for him to regain his confidence/get used to the idea that everyone saw him like that. But they help him feel better by telling embarrassing stories about themselves so he doesnt feel like he's alone and the gladiators have a one on one session with him saying how their proud of him and feel like their closer now, to which Ran does agree. And when it comes to Ranbob, the two aren't super close yet, but close enough they can be close toghere and alone toghere without anything happening. So when Ran learns Ranbob was the only one able to truly comfort him, he isnt super happy, but is almost like satisfied or content. He doesn't mind and it even gets him thinking a bit. 

12: That was funnier to me than it should've been

13: You didn't do anything we just love to cause chaos when given the chance. And I did tell them that and they were very happy and just said "Ima Little gremlin 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈" then disappeared for the rest of the day. 

14: All of the above. But mostly because of curiosity. The idea that theres a immortal god just out there is incredibly fascinating to them and Jackie especially really wants to meet him. Watson and the fishermen are more hesitant to the thought of meeting Foolish. Mostly because he is a god that could easily kill them, and maybe trespassing onto his property isn't the best idea? But Jackie isnt taking no for an answer and he will forcefully drag everyone with him. They wouldn't know but you did give me a idea of what if Raq has a totem and when Raq blinds Ran they think that they killed Raq, but instead he slips away. And no one notices til its to late.

15: Oh yes, Edward is mid telling of how Ranboo was always so socially shy and tried his best to seem invisible, as Ran and Ranbob throw snowballs and agure in the background. And Edward is telling of how Ranboo was so scared of destroying Technoblades property as he was scared he'd get kicked out as Ran and Jackie are just hasitly digging up the ground in the background in a race. He does also tell them how much Ranboo used to go mining for fun, so often he went mining that he actually became the richest person in the SMP and beyond all because he was bored. While on the way there Cletus and Isaac where complaining about how much they had to mine just to get a few bits of iron. Edward also shared how little Ranboo knew of his enderman side and how he suffered because of it, making the brothers thankful that they had a enderman hybrid mom, and even teachers who took time to teach them about their enderman side and how to please it and its limits. It also gets embarrassing when Edward asks for stories about Ran and Ranbob. Especially when Watson jumps up to tell an embarrassing story about Ran. Even the brothers get in on it and share stories about Mizu. Jackie, Isaac, Charles, and Ranbob all sit around Edward when its time to tell stories about the SMP. And Edward has actually started private lessons with the brothers to teach them the enderian language after he finds out their enderian is extremely rusty and out of date. 

Also I wanted to include this in my timeline submission but I forgot to so have it here. Although I said I want this to be a primarily Tales focused au I just can't help but imagine Phil, Karl, Ranboo, Tubbo, Techno (plus maybe Quackity, Bad, and Sapnap) being sucked into the future by a failure from Karls watch and them having to work with the gladiator and fishermen groups to find their way home. But that would probably be another au.

3: Oh, interesting. So Raq managed to corner Ran? How did he do that? How did everyone feel about them getting split off from Ran only to find him blind and terrified?

4: That sounds really nice of them, actually. I’m glad he’s got a good support system. If the gladiators ever had to deal with it themselves(maybe the Fishermen got temporarily separated, or something), how would they go about it, and how would they fare?

10: Aww, they’re protective of him. Good, he needs someone to be! It’s for the best that fight never really started, that definitely would have made things a lot worse, huh? Antidotes sound really interesting, honestly. Definitely off track of your AU, but if you ever have the time, what kind of antidotes would your world building use for other potions, and which potions could be made permanent? Very glad he gets his sight back though. He’s content with it? Curious, curious.

12: I’ll do it, don’t make me!

13: Yeah, that fits the bill alright. They are a gremlin, and it’s good that they’ve acknowledged that. Also, you saying they just disappeared for the rest of the day makes it sound like they just poofed out of thin air until midnight for feeding time. 

14: Jackie wants to see god, and so he will. Maybe fight him too, but that’s up for debate. And also ‘until it’s too late’? Anon, what happens? What’s Raq gonna do? Which of the poor children are gonna suffer from this?

15: FGHJK-

Edward: Ah, yes. That Ranboo. So polite and well-mannered. 

His descendants: *screaming in the background*

Edward: So, so well-mannered. 

Also, I want funny stories about Ranbob and Ran. Can I have funny stories about them? Please, Anon?

Them ending up in the future actually sounds pretty interesting, especially considering the group and who they end up with. Honestly, if you’re up for talking, I’d love to hear about it. Maybe you could make it like a spin-off from this AU, or something? Not canon, but a fun idea? I think, I’m not entirely sure how spin-offs work, if I’m being honest.

[fromashescomephoenixes]

It’s Not a Double Date

warnings: none!

summary: Hermione agrees to go to lunch with Harry, Ginny and Draco. But it’s definitely not a double date! (Or is it?)

word count: 1.1k+

••••

“Please!” Ginny was begging me desperately. “I can’t handle it with just Harry,”

“Ginny, the whole reason you guys are doing this lunch is because you’re all friends now!”

“Yeah, but that’s mostly him and Harry,” She whined. “And he’s single again,” she tried a different tact.

“You think Malfoy and I would be good together?” I laughed, shaking my head. Ginny simply shrugged. I started to walk back towards my office, but she turned me around.

“Please Hermione,” she asked once more, “If you really hate it I can fake being sick,” she suggested. Finally, I conceded.

“I guess,” Ginny instantly cheered up.

“Thank you!” She exclaimed. And started to leave, waving over her shoulder. “Also Malfoy may think it’s a double date,” Ginny jogged out the doors of the ministry as my jaw dropped.

“Ginny! What!” I sighed. Looks like I’d be going on a date with Malfoy.

••••

“Hello?” I finally answered my phone, which had been ringing for the past ten minutes.

“Hermione!” Harry greeted me.

“Harry! I said cheerfully. “How are you?” I was very glad to hear from my best friend.

“Really great,” Harry responded. “I wanted to thank you, ‘Mione, for agreeing to go with Malfoy to lunch.”

“As Long as the ferret is polite, I don’t really see an issue with it,” I admitted. “Although I’m not going to let him think it’s a date,” I said, mostly to assure myself I think.

“Well, to be honest,” Harry paused. “He sounded kind of excited,” It would not be an exaggeration to say I nearly fell over from laughing.

“Sure, and Rita Skeeter is the most reliable writer in the Daily Prophet!” I chuckled to myself and Harry allowed himself a laugh as well.

“Truly Hermione,” Harry began. A commotion cut into the background of our call, likely some sort of Auror’s training or other.

“Listen ‘Mione, I have to go. See you tomorrow!” The statement was all but shouted before the phone clicked off.

••••

The question of ‘what to wear?’ was not something that often preoccupied my thoughts. However, it was all I could think of as I went to sleep that night.

Perhaps my deep red blazer and- No, too business-y. Or nice jeans and a jumper? A little too casual, since Harry had picked a relatively upscale restaurant so that they could avoid the Paparazzi.

As the sun began to shine in, I stared at my clock until it turned to Six. That was an alright time to get up I thought. I’d slept a bit, but not enough. The nightmares never got any better. I always wonder how Harry manages. He says Ginny helps, but unfortunately I don’t exactly have the love of my life waiting for me around the corner. Unless of course I bump into the perfect man at the lunch spot Harry chose which is thankfully very close by. I snort as I imagine the unlikely odds.

Finally, I still on a royal blue sweater over a shirt with a Peter Pan collar. I’ve heard that’s trendy, although really it’s just my regular style. I don’t bother with make up, and choose to spend the spare time reading instead.

••••

Harry and Ginny pick me up outside of my apartment. I quickly grab my keys and sunglasses as we dash out the door.

“So,” I begin “How civil do I have to be to Malfoy?” I tease.

“Hermione, I solemnly swear he’s changed,” Harry said gravely. I simply shrugged.

“Yeah, but how much can a person truly change?” I sigh, deep in thought. Either he wasn’t that changed, or we were about to meet a completely new person.

“Granger?” I heard his voice before I saw him. His blond hair was parted loosely and he wore simple jeans and a white shirt.

“Malfoy.” I nodded primly. He smiled, but I looked away. Harry and Ginny both greeted him with a hug, but while he was turned away I made sure to mouth:

“Are you serious!?” Towards Ginny. All she could do was shrug. We walked into the restaurant and I noticed an odd stare here and there. Luckily there were no cameras. Harry and Ginny walked slightly ahead of me and Malfoy. I suppose Malfoy took this as an invitation for conversation.

“So..” He trailed off. “I never believed we would be going on a date!” I frowned at his lame attempt at a joke.

“It’s not a date Malfoy,” I replied.

“Oh?” His eyebrow raised up, “What is it then?”

“We’re simply third and fourth wheeling,” I managed a small smile, but Draco started full on laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked with a smile.

“Well. I simply told him we’re not on a date.” I didn’t really see how he found it THAT funny.

••••

“So Draco,” Harry began. He was ready to start a new topic as the four of us had been laughing at one of his less graceful plays in quidditch. “How was your trip to America?”

“Oh!” I surprised even myself in saying this. However, I’d always wanted to visit America.

“It was fantastic,” He began. He sped into a long story of everything that happened. I found myself hanging on to every word. Godric, his eyes were really nice. No, that wasn’t what I should be thinking! Ugh.

“How’s work at the ministry Hermione?” He turned towards me. I bit my lips for a moment. Willing myself to keep being cold towards him.

“Perfectly fine, thank you,” I nodded.

“What do you think of those new laws theyre possibly putting in place over in Germany?” He asked. How did he hear about those? I’d only found out after hearing from the minister himself. Unable to stop myself, I launched into a passionate explanation of my thoughts.

“I think it’s fantastic that they’re thinking of reintegrating Wizards and muggles together!” I continued on this path, and then frowned and added. “Although it should be a global decision. Germany can’t very well tell people there are wizards without muggle finding out about the rest of us!”

“I completely agree Hermione!” Draco threw a smile my way. “Plus, it has to be taken fairly slowly. It will be a large shock for everyone,” Oh Godric, he traveled? He was as handsome as ever? He had completely changed his view on muggles? There was something strangely attractive about this ‘new’ Draco. However his unmistakable personality was still very much at his core.

After a few more interesting topics of conversation, we finished lunch and got the bill. I had had a surprisingly lovely afternoon.

“We should do this again sometime!” Harry suggested, staring at me. Perhaps I hadn’t been as secretive as I thought about my change in sentiment towards Draco.

“ I would love that,” Draco said, also glancing at me.

“I suppose,” I glanced at my shoes, eager to escape the gaze of everyone. As we parted ways, I noticed Draco fall in to step beside me.

“So, I know that wasn’t a date,” He began a little sheepishly. “But would you maybe want to grab ice cream together?” I blushed as I found myself smiling at the thought.

“I suppose,” I smiled softly.

“Now that, is the best thing I’ve heard all day!” He shyly brushed my hand and we continued to walk to my favourite ice cream shop ever.

••••

“Daddy, Daddy!” A small Scorpius waddled over to Draco. “What was your and mommy’s first date?”

“Well, I can tell you that it wasn’t anything so basic as a double date,” Draco smiled at his son, before throwing a smirk towards Hermione. She tossed the dish rag she was holding towards him, but he dodged it expertly.

They had been married very happily for 5 years, and were certainly a well loved couple. They kept up the tradition of double dates with Harry and Ginny, although Draco enjoyed telling Hermione that it wasn’t a date.

“We’re simply third and fourth wheeling!” He would smile, as he gently held his wife’s hand.

[timetoresurface]

secrets (5) / BBH

Y/N x CEO BAEKHYUN

final 5k words

PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3 // PART 4 // PART 5

Hopping from one job to another, you really wanted to keep your position at Banking and Finance. If you would have to describe your perfect work environment, it definitely wouldn’t be at that stupid finance magazine that had the worst coffee machine in history. But hey, it did pay the bills, and that’s what everyone does, right? A perfect job doesn’t exist, right? A perfect life doesn’t exist, right? Only in cheap romantic comedies was life perfect, and you certainly weren’t in any. At least the last time you checked.

“Have you ever seen the movie ‘Confessions of a Shopaholic’?” Chanyeol asked you during your second meeting that week. You dropped your pen and simply nodded your head for him to continue. ”Well, that’ where I’ve got my inspiration from.” His voice sounded uncertain, almost childlike.

“What do you mean?” You asked him softly. You had grown a soft spot for Chanyeol over the last couple of days. He was polite, funny, and a wonderful gentleman. He knew exactly what to say and how to make you feel good. Not in the way that Baekhyun made you feel, but he was kind enough to distract you for a while.

“At first glance, you’re just a pretty girl, but you actually know your stuff.” He simply stated, not daring to look into your eyes. He did just call you beautiful. That’s kind of embarrassing.

“Most people don’t dare to look behind the beautiful girl part. So, thank you for pushing through.” You thanked him, showing him your biggest smile.

“It wasn’t that hard.” He chuckled lowly, and you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle onto the floor.

“So, what about the movie?” You asked him, changing back the subject before the conversation got too awkward for you to handle.

"They had the lead have this column about banking stuff in easy terms. We’re not going to do it like that, but that’s what inspired me.” He explained, and you couldn’t help but find him cute. His big doe eyes were endearing, and you couldn’t look away. He might dress in fancy suits and is actually a big shot guy, but he was still human. He even showed his insecurities and weird thought processes.

“So, do you like watching romantic comedies?” You teased him softly while touching his arm gently. He looked a bit taken aback, but he let it happen nonetheless. Suddenly the door of the meeting room was forcefully pushed open, revealing a fuming Baekhyun.

“Oh, hello, Baekhyun! Are you checking up on our progress?” Chanyeol smiled at him. The two of them were more friends than colleagues you had figured out while working with Chanyeol. He could never stop talking about how great Baekhyun was, and what kind of crazy stories they got themself into. You did love Chanyeol’s anecdotes about Baekhyun, but you would rather hear them from the man himself. Which would be demanding as you were ignoring his presence.

“It doesn’t seem like you two are doing very much.” He stated firmly, and Chanyeol straightened his back. He had also once told you that when Baekhyun was pissed, you should watch yourself.

“We’re actually almost finished, mister Byun.” You told him dryly while removing your hand from Chanyeol's arm. Baekhyun noticed your retreating hand, and his eyes hardened.

“Show me what you’ve got.” He demanded while seating himself opposite you. He didn't even acknowledge Chanyeol as his eyes were too busy scanning you. His eyes never left your face though, he seemed to be looking for something, but you had no clue what that could be.

“We will present our idea next Tuesday as we promised.” You told him in your most professional voice. Surprise flashed through his eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

“Maybe I can help.”

“We’re presenting our project for you to agree. Wouldn’t it be against protocol if you helped us?” You tried to reason with him. Chanyeol didn’t know what was happening between the two of you but didn’t do anything to stop it. He seemed to enjoy the show you were giving him.

“There are a lot of things against protocol, but that has never stopped you.” His voice dropped lower, and you felt your knees go weaker and weaker. When he looked at you, it was as if every ounce of breath was taken from your lungs. You had a crush on Baekhyun, and your body wasn’t trying to hide it anymore. A crush is nothing more than a lust for someone, right? But still, he is always there on your mind. Whenever you see him, that’s it, you’ll keep thinking about him for the entire day.

“Likewise, isn’t that how you created this company?” Your voice stumbled over the first word, but Baekhyun seemed unfazed. He didn’t seem to be as affected by you, as you were affected by him.

“Seems like we both did our research.” He tilted his head and stared you up and down. His eyes weren’t shy anymore. We were quickly taken out of our trance when Chanyeol’s phone started ringing.

“Excuse me.” He stuttered while walking out of the room with his phone pressed to his ear.

“So…” Baekhyun said, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen over you.

“So…” you repeated him, looking at your hands. You didn’t want to look into his eyes when you were alone with him. You were scared you would crumble.

“How have you been?” He asked you casually as if you guys were old friends trying to reconnect.

“I’m not doing this.” You thundered while getting up from your chair. At that moment, Chanyeol decided to enter the meeting room again, and he looked puzzled, to say the least.

“What?” Baekhyun and Chanyeol said simultaneously.

“Chanyeol, I think we're done for today, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye.” You quickly bowed and made your way out of the hell hole. You grabbed your things from your desk and went straight home. You tried so hard to not be affected by Baekhyun, but your mind and body were not in sync.

You were casually doing your work when Chanyeol surprised you at your desk. He had taken off his tie and suit jacket. He had also rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and he looked like a snack. Your colleagues eyed you suspiciously while pretending to do some work. Why did your colleagues even care about these handsome young men? Yes, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were attractive, but they were just too high up to even pretend you got a chance with one of them. You learned the hard way.

When one of them entered your floor, everyone seemed to go in acting mode. Like Chanyeol would even notice them, he had already made it perfectly clear to you that you were the only reason he was spending so much time here. Now that you think of it, Chanyeol had been really interested in you. Asking where you would go out for a drink, or where you’d like to eat. It was adorable that he appreciated your opinion for work-related matters, but also personal issues. It did make you feel a little warm inside.

“Hi, Y/N.” He beamed at you, and you couldn’t stop thinking about a happy puppy who was always excited about everything and anything.

“Hey, Chanyeol.” You returned his greeting with a big smile. Whenever Chanyeol was near, you just couldn’t stop smiling. He had that effect on people, and you’d like to follow the masses. 

“Can I ask you something?” His cheeks turned a little red, but it was a good look on him. It made him more approachable and even more adorable.

“Of course you can. For you everything.” You told him while taking off your reading glasses. He visibly swallowed before talking again. If you didn’t know any better, you would think he was nervous. 

“That’s nice to hear. I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner after work?” He mumbled softly. You had to pay attention really hard to understand what he was even saying. Just as your colleagues, who leaned more to your side to understand what he was asking.

“Oh?” Was all you could mutter.

“Nothing too serious because I don’t want to talk about work. I just don’t really know a lot of people in this area, and it would be nice to not dine alone.” He quickly explained, but you just smiled at him.

“I would love to show you around. When do you finish work?”

“When you’re finished.” He confessed, and you laughed. 

“I still have some work to do, but I can be done in an hour.” You told him.

“It’s a date.” He happily exclaimed, but his enthusiasm quickly disappeared after seeing your face. “Not really a date, but you know what I mean.”

“It’s okay. I’ll see you in an hour.” You told him while putting your glasses back on your face. Chanyeol practically skipped out of the office, leaving you smiling to yourself. You tried to contain your excitement before your colleagues would swarm your desk with questions.

The hour passed quickly. Luckily for Chanyeol, you didn’t take your work too seriously. The hour was filled with checking a report and scrolling through your horoscope website until you found the one you liked. 

“I’m leaving everyone.” You announced while grabbing your coat. Some colleagues hummed as a response, being too busy with their work. Luckily for your company, some people did take their jobs seriously.

When you made your way down to the entrance of your building, Chanyeol wasn’t there yet. The old security man was still working, so you made your way over to him.

“Long time no see.” You announced your presence, and he glanced up from the book he was reading.

“You must be really busy. I’ve heard you’re working on something special.” He put down his book to talk to you. If that’s not love, you don’t know what love is. Putting down a book could mean a marriage proposal in your world. You would say yes if the old security man asked you. It was a shame he was happily married, and that his wife was the kindest person you had ever met.

“I can’t really tell you, but yeah.” You said proudly while hanging over his desk like a little too excited kid.

“I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you so much. How’s the book?” You asked him changing the subject.

“Boring.” Both of you laughed at his confession. Why were you even mad at him a couple of days ago? Your head really worked in strange ways sometimes. 

“If I don’t forget, I’ll bring you one of my favourites next week.” You happily told him, but he frowned.

“I appreciate the gesture as I know you’ll probably forget. I’m still waiting for your famous apple pie.” He joked with you, and you blushed. Why did you always forget everything? And why did you tell him you could bake? The last time you had baked something you’d almost set your apartment on fire. You really needed someone who could teach you basic household chores.

“If I don’t forget, I’ll also bring you some homemade apple pie.” You quickly lied to him. Supermarkets sold homemade apple pies too. 

“Y/N!” Chanyeol yelled before making his way over to you. “I hope you didn’t have to wait too long.”

“I almost wanted to leave, luckily for you, my favourite guy kept me company.” You teased Chanyeol, and he almost believed you wanted to leave. His eyes practically fell out of his head. Overacting was a good look on him. You started to think everything was a good look at him.

“Thank you so much for your sacrifice, sir.” Chanyeol joked while bowing.

“Nothing I can not handle. She can be sweet when she wants to be.”

“You never know how you’re going to find her.” Chanyeol agreed, and you rolled your eyes.

“Keeps the job exciting.” Both him and Chanyeol laughed loudly at the remark. Can people stop talking about you as if you weren’t there, that would be great? Thank you.

“Enough about me. Let’s go Chanyeol.” You waved at your friend and grabbed Chanyeol by the arm. 

“Where do you want to go?” He asked you while exiting the office building together. The sun was still shining, which made you really happy. 

“I always go to the same bar.” You explained to him. Baekhyun hadn’t really cared where you were going.

“Which is…?” Chanyeol tried again. 

“A secret.” You told him with your finger over your lips. 

“I don’t really like secrets,” Chanyeol stated, and you had to container your disappointment. Who didn’t like secrets? Everyone has secrets.

“You don’t have any secrets?” You asked him softly.

“No, I’m an open book. Do you have any?” It’s not like it is a bad thing to not have secrets, but you were a tiny little bit disappointed. Maybe he needed a sip of alcohol before he got honest with you.

“I collect secrets.” You joked with him, but it seemed to go right through him.

“How do you even collect secrets.” He asked you seriously, and you sighed. Maybe you could only converse with him about work-related stuff. 

“I scream them into a jar before sealing the lid.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked you uncertain. 

“Of course not.”

“Strange.” He ended the conversation. 

“A little bit, yeah.” You whispered under your breath before opening the door of your favourite bar. Maybe you should’ve gone to another as this place reminded you solely of Baekhyun. How conversation never went dull, and how his lips were a perfect fit on yours. You tried to shake the feeling. 

“What do you want to order?” Chanyeol asked after you were seated at the bar. You liked the spot better you had chosen when you’re with Baekhyun, but you couldn’t exactly tell Chanyeol that. 

“I only drink the signature cocktails. They’re the best.” You told him happily, never taking a look at the menu. You knew their cocktail list by heart.

“I don’t really like cocktails,” Chanyeol remarked while scanning the menu intently. 

“They have a lot of other options too.” You mumbled softly.

“Which one would you like? I’ll order us something.” Chanyeol asked you suddenly.

“I’d like this one.” You told him, showing him your favourite cocktail with your finger. You had to move a lot closer to him to do so, and it didn’t feel right. 

The conversation didn’t flow as you would have expected. And it’s not that Chanyeol wasn’t good company. He was a terrific company, but you just didn’t feel the part. You never really believed in that kind of stuff, but after your encounter with Baekhyun, you might be a believer now. 

“What are you thinking about?” Chanyeol asked you after a couple minutes of silence. 

“Nothing.” You told him off. 

“Is that nothing called Baekhyun?” He asked you waiting for your response. 

“Why would I be thinking about Baekhyun?” You scoffed, trying to hide your surprise. Could he read your thoughts? 

“He seems to be interested in you, and you seem to be annoyed by everything he says and does.” He explains to you, and you couldn’t look him in the eyes. Were you that obvious?

“If he annoys me, why would I be thinking about him outside of work?”

“Love and hate are practically the same things.” He reasoned with you. His face showed a beautiful smile, and you hated yourself for leading on such a wonderful man. 

“I only believe in hate at first sight. Love is something people made up because they weren’t satisfied with their lives.

“Wasn’t it hate at first sight between the two of you?” He asked you jokingly, but you couldn’t laugh. He was right, actually. And you really hated it when people understood something before you.

“Stop reasoning with me.” You told him.

“I really had high hopes for tonight.” He changed the subject again.

“Why’s that?” You asked him while playing with the straw in your drink. 

“Because I like you.” He confessed suddenly.

“Was it love at first sight for you?” You jokingly asked him, but he shook his head in disbelief at your words. 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” He laughed softly. 

“I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“Don’t be. Don’t be sorry for being you. I like that about you. That you’re unapologetically you.”

“That’s so cliché of you to say.”

“I do watch romantic movies.” He proudly stated after taking a sip from his drink.

“And you let their stories guide your life.” You commented after also taking a sip from your fruity cocktail.

“I’ve known Baekhyun for a while now, but I’ve never seen him like he is now,” Chanyeol said seriously again. He could really switch from serious to jokingly in a second. It was confusing.

“And what is so different?” You asked him interested. You were tired. You didn’t really want to hate Baekhyun anymore. 

“He seems excited,” Chanyeol stated. 

“Excited?” You repeated him. Why would Baekhyun suddenly seem excited? What changed? 

“When I told him I was having dinner with you tonight, he came alive. He was asking where and when exactly, and not that Baekhyun is a bad friend, but he is never interested in my dating life. At least not like that.” Chanyeol began explaining his reasoning. He thought he had it all figured out. 

“…Also, your little exchange in the meeting room made me suspicious.” He continued his monologue, and you could only listen to his words. Baekhyun came alive when he discovered you went out to eat with Chanyeol. Baekhyun knew you were somewhere right now having fun with someone else. How did that even me you look?

“… It seems you do collect secrets.” He ended, and you half smiled at him. It was a lot to take in. 

“I told you.” You ended the conversation. Both of you said goodbye after the awkward confession/ analyzation of Chanyeol. You needed some time alone to figure things out.

The next couple of days went remotely smooth. You had gotten your hands onto Baekhyun’s schedule, so you knew when and where he was at all times. It was a life saviour. It was the only thing keeping you sane. You had finally taken his shirt back to the office. You didn’t want to keep it, as it held too many memories for you. But you also didn’t want to throw it away as it seemed to be a costly dress shirt. You and Jennie made a plan where you would just leave it in his office when you knew he would be out.

Today was going to be the day. It was finally Friday, and he had lunch plans with some big shot guy you didn’t remember the name of. But he seemed to be necessary , and Baekhyun would never skip that meeting. It was a solid plan because everyone would leave your office around lunchtime to get something to eat. You didn’t need to explain why you had a man’s shirt in your hands, and you didn’t need to tell why you were going to the top floor.

You quietly made your way up to Baekhyun’s office, working your hardest to not look suspicious. Once you closed his office door behind you, you could finally breath again. He wasn’t there, and somehow after all your hard work in avoiding him, you felt a little sad. You patted his shirt after you placed it on his desk. This was it. This is how it ends. 

“We had a good time.” You whispered to the lifeless shirt. 

“We did have a good time, didn’t we?” A voice behind you surprised you. You turned around and saw Baekhyun closing his office door. He wore a pastel coloured suit that complimented his natural skin colour, and you felt your cheeks redden. 

“I’m sorry mister Byun. I was just returning something that was yours.” You explained yourself softly. He didn’t say anything while walking over to his desk, standing right next to you.

“Thank you.” He finally said after looking at the shirt on his desk. It was freshly washed, and neatly folded. “Maybe you should keep it.” He shrugged while holding his shirt out for you to take.

“What?” You stuttered, not being able to control yourself around the handsome man. Why would he even give you his shirt? It didn’t even smell like him anymore, not that you checked.

“You did look good in my shirt. I still think about that moment when you entered the meeting room in my shirt with your cheeks flushed red.” A soft smile spread over his face, but his eyes darkened. If he continued this duality of his, you would get a headache. There was just no deciphering the man. 

“You did rip my shirt, and left me all alone in your room. What else was I supposed to do?” You asked him sarcastically, trying to keep your voice low.

“I really wanted to stay though.” He moved a little bit closer to you, but you backed up against his desk.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.” You firmly stated while standing up. You didn’t look him in the eyes.

“You haven’t even given me a chance to talk about it.” His hand got hold of your wrist, but you quickly shrugged him off.

“What’s done is done, mister Byun. It is no good to dwell on the past.” You explained to him cooly.

“Is it this easy for you to let us go?” His voice grew angry, but you kept your cold facade. 

“Us? There is no us, mister Byun.” You corrected him.

“Please call me Baekhyun.” He pleaded.

“What do you want from me, Baekhyun?” You yelled at him, you couldn’t hide the frustration anymore. You couldn’t contain the anger you had for the man standing in front of you.

“I just want you.” He confessed quietly, and a part of you wanted his words to be true, but you couldn’t believe him.

“You made it perfectly clear that you can’t have me.” You took a step back, but he was quick to follow.

“I never made myself clear, you simply assumed.” He corrected you, and you glared at him. He couldn’t blame all of this on you.

“Seeing your wife acting all happy was enough proof.”

“Do you like me?” His voice could barely be heard, he was pleading you. His eyes were searching for yours, but you were trying to take a step back from Baekhyun. In a little over a week, he had made you obsessed with him. You wanted to know everything about him. You wanted to know his most deeply hidden secrets, but he just couldn’t give you what you wanted. He would always leave a part of himself invisible, that’s the kind of man Baekhyun was. You wanted a pure love without complications, but Baekhyun screamed troubles from miles away. Maybe it was best to end it before it could actually start becoming troublesome.

“That doesn’t matter.” You mumbled softly.

“It does! Do you like me Y/N?” He raised his voice while his hands landed on your shoulders. He was trying to make you look at him, but you refused.

“Why?” His hands found their way to your chin, and they demanded you to look up at him. You lost your internal battle the moment your eyes connected. His dark orbs, filled with passion, were enough to make you weak in the knees. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes were pleading you to stay.

“Because I have liked you ever since the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Ever since the moment you spilt your drunken secrets, you had me captivated. You’re like a drug, Y/N, and I can’t seem to get enough. I can’t stand seeing you flirt with Chanyeol when it should be me. I told you that I’m selfish, I want you all to myself. I want to spend the rest of my life with you even, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you!” Baekhyun started. There was no stopping him now. He looked determined to make you stay.

“I ache when I see you smile. I want it to be directed toward me. For me. Because of me. I want to bring you joy. I want to be the source of those lit-up eyes.” His voice grew softer when he ended his confession.

“That’s nice Baekhyun, but last time I checked you were still happily married." Tears started to form in your eyes, and you couldn’t act like you were fine anymore. Baekhyun saw your tears and tried to move them away with his fingers, but it only resulted in you crying more. The soft side he had shown you that was solely dedicated to you, was too much for you to handle.

“Make me choose.” He whispered with his hands still covering your cheeks.

“I want you to decide for yourself. I don't want to ruin your marriage.”

“The marriage was already ruined before you came along.”

“Exactly. Why would you leave her now? You could’ve left earlier. The option was always there. Why now?” You asked him desperately while the tears kept falling down.

“It's not as easy as it seems.” He silently confessed. He had already thrown this words into your direction.

“You keep saying that. I will make the decision for you. Let's stop this game that we’re playing. Let’s just end whatever this is.” You told him while fighting through your tears. He let go of your face, and you saw it as a sign to leave. You quickly turned around and marched out of his office.

That’s why you were avoiding him. That’s why you wanted to hate him in your head. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and you don’t know how he has gotten so comfortable in your head. And you hate the fact that he can mess up your mind so easily. To be honest, you’re afraid of love. You’re scared of feeling that someone keeps sticking to your heart, making you wonder at night if he had feelings for you too. Baekhyun had feelings for you, but he still broke your heart. You know that pain, where you give your heart and someone decides he doesn’t need it. Baekhyun needed it, and he wanted it, but it was just not possible. And if it’s possible, that’s even worse.

And here you are alone, heartbroken, depressed as fuck, and no way out. How could you not remember his shiny smile and his flawless beauty? How could you ever forget his teary eyes when he confessed his love for you? His little grey's anatomy moment where he wanted you to make him choose.

“Y/N!” Baekhyun yelled after you, but you quickened your pace. “Please wait.” He finally caught up with you, and grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Don’t.” You told him while tears were falling from your eyes. You had no control over your body in this moment.

“Don’t leave me. Not before we try to turn this into something.” A single tear left his eye, and you softly brushed his tear away with your thumb.

“What if nothing is there?” Your hand rested on his cheek, and he leaned into your touch. Some people were entering the office again as lunch time was almost over, but you didn’t care. All you cared for was Baekhyun in this moment.

“I would risk it because if you’d let me, I could make you happy.” He kissed the inside of your hand while his eyes remained on yours. The act was so innocent yet the fire inside you started to burn. You wanted more. You needed more of Baekhyun.

“I don’t care about your money, Baekhyun.” Your voice barely a whisper. You wanted your words to be heard by Baekhyun only.

“Let me buy you a drink tonight? Let me buy you dinner? Give me one date?” He started pleading again, but this time you couldn’t say no to him. 

“Where’s your wife?” You asked him.

“She only shows up when she needs money. She already left.” The explanation made no sense, but you didn’t care. She was gone, and that was all you need to know now.

“Okay.” You stated confidently. If your heart was meant to be broken, it was best to have it broken by Baekhyun. The only one who made you feel things. The only man who could turn your insides into mush, and make your cheeks permanently flushed.

“Okay?” He asked your surprised. He couldn’t believe your words, and you couldn’t really believe to yourself.

“I’m just as surprised as you are. Let’s try this once, and only one time.” You told him firmly.

“You won’t regret it.” He told you enthusiastically. 

“You better sweep me off my feet.” You joked with half a smile covering your face, but Baekhyun’s smile reached his ears. He quickly enveloped you in a hug where he lifted you off your feet. “Please put me down, Baekhyun. I didn’t really mean it that literally.” You laughed when he returned you safely on the ground, but he didn’t let go of you yet. His arms stayed draped around you while his eyes were searching for yours. 

“I like this.” He mumbled softly before kissing your cheek. He wanted to kiss your lips, but you quickly maneuvered your way out of his grip.

“No kissing until you confess to me like mister Darcy would confess.” You told him while taking his hand into yours. You motioned for him to follow you to the elevator. Maybe you should find a more discreet spot to confess.

“I already confessed to you like mister Darcy would do. He would be very proud.” He joked with you while his fingers were drawing small circles onto your hand, making your body instantly relax. All you needed was Baekhyun to make the biggest thunders in your heart go away. He told you that you were like a drug to him, but he was really your drug.

“You didn’t tell me that I bewitched you body and soul.” You pouted slightly, making him chuckle lowly. That wonderful sound you could listen to for days and days.

“I said you were like a drug, isn’t that the same sentiment?” He tried to reason with you, but by now he should’ve known better than to reason with you.

“I’m sorry, I don’t make the rules, mister Byun.” You laughed at him, and you could see the love in his eyes. Maybe love was a bit too strong, but you could see the fondness he had for you in his eyes. That was enough for now.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He jokingly asked the ceiling, and you quickly stomped him in the ribs. You could get used to this. You could get used to this side of Baekhyun. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you said before; it’s enough for now. And who knows what kind of secrets you could make with Baekhyun. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t a little bit excited. 

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Summary: Javi hasn't called...again, Isa tries to distract herself making a new friend, but she doesn't know that her intentions are far from innocent and are tied to Javi crossing paths again with someone from his past.

Warning: cursing, mention of violence, threats, anxiety, kidnapping. Very hateful characters from the show 👀

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN POSTED ALMOST A MONTH AGO. I will try to finish this before this month ends. I think I could wrap this in one chapter more and an epilogue probably.

Just a small warning. This is a work of fiction and the intention is merely to develop a little bit more of a character I adore, Javi Peña. There's mention of the drug cartel, the violence they inflected in Latinoamérica (and as a Latina it hurts me very deeply, believe me) and the political involvement of different governments and agencies but this is not a political statement or trying to do other thing than entertain.

Chapter VII: Smart Choices

Isabel had never been a very popular girl, always the shy one in high school and she made a very small group of friends in college. But as everything in her life, there was a before and after since her life changed and she had Elvira.

She could not go to the club with her friends, their conversations about their new graduate’s struggles hurt her since she had to drop out, their heartbreaks and adventures had nothing to do with her life surrounded by diapers, feeding bottles and sleepless nights and so one day the phone stopped ringing, their friendship was limited to birthday parties and Christmas postcards while she became a mum and a wife. And thus making her world a very small universe with her child at the center and Javi and her turning around her.

So when that lady at the supermarket, Judy, called her she didn’t think anything weird out of it. Instead she was happy, excited to have another struggling mum that needed some comforting from somebody that understands her as much as she did.

“I’m sorry I took the liberty to ask for your phone number, I have a friend that goes to your mum’s salon and I ask her for it” she had said the first time she called.

Judy is a funny and very quick and intelligent woman. When they got their first coffee together, Isa barely asks any question, Judy fills the conversations so Isabel never has the chance to ask when she is meeting her kid or who gave her her phone number since she knows every client of her mother’s salon by heart and nobody mentioned her ever. But Judy keeps the conversation flowing, sharing her tragic story about leaving Colombia out of a very tough situation with a guy and creating a new life for her and her kid in the USA.

“It must have been so tough” Isa pounders

“Colombia back then was a bloodbath, you had to navigate the streets in survival mode, always looking behind your back and praying to come back home safe” Judy explains

“My husband worked in Colombia for a few years”

“Oh really? When?”

“80’s early 90’s"

“Well, he must have known. So sad! it is a very beautiful country...”Judy’s gaze is fixed far away as if she’s remembering something

“I guess it’s difficult to talk about it, my husband never shares much”

“Mm” she hums, she opens a golden lighter and gets the flame close to the cigarette on her red lips “What did he do there?”

“He worked at the Embassy” she’s not lying but she prefers not to specify, and now that’s past, the details are not really important

“Oh! and that’s what he’s doing in Mexico now?” she asks exhaling a white cloud of smoke making a perfect o with her lips

“Not exactly”

“He must be careful; I heard things are following the same path we suffered back in Colombia”

“Yes...he’s...smart, I’m sure he will be fine” Isa answers more to convince herself than her new friend

“I saw in the news the other day how a few civilians died during a clash between two fronting cartels and then the police. Very, very horrible images" she smacks her lips

"I haven't watched the news…" the knot in Isa's stomach grows tighter, Javi haven't called back even if he promised he would

"They kill anyone that is on their way, civilians, gringos too, DEA agents…" the Colombian woman casually brings the coffee cup to her lips when Isa frowns at her

"What did you say?" She asks

"They kill civilians?" Judy smiles uncomfortably the corner of her lips stretching up

"No, the last part"

"Gringos...DEA agents" she repeats

"Why did you say that?" The knot gets tighter restringing her throat and her question is just a whisper

"I… assume Javier must be…"

"I haven't told you what he does"

Judy gasps and bats her long black lashes a few times before changing her face to a complete cold expression, her glossy lips now a tight red line

"Look, Isabel, I think you are a very smart woman…" she starts

"I'm leaving"

Isabel pushes her chair back to go but the other woman's hand holds her to the table, her perfect manicure claws making her stay

"Sit, don't do anything stupid" Judy spats, the brief confrontation has alerted the waiters and they look at them intently until Judy gives them a very warm apologetic smile

"Who are you? What do you want?" Isabel tries to hold herself but her instincts is crying for her tu run, to get her baby back and look for Javier

But Javi could be anywhere

"You know your husband and I met, many years ago" she continues smoking "we worked closely in the hunt of Escobar" she smirks "I admit I was surprised to find him married and with a kid. He used to be involved with a very different type of woman"

"What do you want from Javi? If you hurt him I swear…" Isa mutters

"You must have been really special. A magical pussy" she laughs "or are you that dumb and naive that he lied to you and believed it" she crosses her arms over her chest, looking with a smug face from the white cloud of smoke "do you know what he did in Colombia? Do you know what he's capable of?"

"Where is he? If you touch him I swear to God I kill you" Isa tries to contain the tears, to seem strong but fails which makes Judy smile wider

"Oh! So you are an idiot little girl. Better keep up, cielo, if you want your husband alive"

México

A constant, something that keeps on proving itself to be right: shit does follow him. He tries the breathing techniques that the doctor showed him but the bag on his head stinks like rotten meat and the heat inside the van is unbearable. He finds a little solace feeling Steve's tigh pressed against his. Both of them rocking back and forth with each bump on the road

"Connie is going to kill me" his friend says

" If they don't kill us first"

"Callense cabrones" one shouts and Javi hears the muttering insult Steve pronounces before receiving one hit himself

He feels the vomit running up his throat, the smell, the heat and the fear have mixed themselves on his stomach and he can no longer calm himself down. He’s about to die, he knows it. About time, my friend, I elude death for so long in Colombia, so many close calls and now I’m about to die in some unknown part of Mexico because of a fucking middle age crisis I couldn’t handle.

He tries so hard to close his lips and swallow, breath, Peña, breath. The only cold thing in this van is the thin silver chain and medallion he wears around his neck.

This would be a marvellous moment to do some magic, old man Javi says to himself and that old saint around his neck. What did Isa call the old man engraved in it? Saint Jude. Okay, Jude, show yourself, please. This is actually a lost cause, it’s your field of expertise, c’mon

“Andando” the sicario pushes him out of the van before he can even process they have stopped the vehicle. The man grabs him by the arm harshly and guides him forward, the sun pierces the black bag over his head but he can’t only perceive the light and the sound of the gravel under his boots.

Suddenly the light changes to a white light and he feels the temperature lowering: a house with air conditioner and there’s a soft murmur of water but otherwise the house is silent. Javi memorizes those tiny details, it’s the only thing that could eventually help him if they’re held hostage and not killed right away.

The sicario pushes him and for a few milliseconds Javier thinks he’s about to fall hard to the ground but ends up on a chair. Then they pull both his arms to the back without any care and handcuffs him there.

Javi jumps from his seat when he hears the loud thump of the door closing, still in the dark and without any sign of company, he calls:

“Steve…”

Nothing

“Your friend is in the other room”

He could recognize that fucking voice anywhere, is engravated in his brain, in that part of his head that is capable of the worst, that tiny espace where he keeps every hateful and the worst people he has met, Bill Stechner being the number one on that list.

“I was so happy thinking you were dead and crawling back to hell” Javi sighs before he’s hit by the clarity in the room. He blinks fast until his eyes are adjusted to it again. It’s a nice room, wide and scattered by a few pieces of furniture covered by white sheets, the dust in the air makes evident it has been closed for a long time.

“So was I thinking you were rotting old in your father’s little ranch but here we are”

His beard is greyer and the already receding hairline is back a few inches, but he looks exactly the same, tha smug stupid face is looking at him from above. That smirk of “I’m always five steps ahead from you” the same he had when he made him leave the Embassy before catching Escobar and the same he had when he tried to take down Cali. But now he’s here in Mexico, what the fuck is he doing here?

“And, do tell, please, why the fuck do are path cross again?” Javier spats

“Oh! I didn’t want to cross paths with you. I must admit I found it funny when I saw who was managing the account for our textile export, but you, being the noisy stupid man that you are “ Stechner approaches him, his smirk freezes in a tight line “had to call your friends. And you see, you’re mending on my business again”

“So you switched from the CIA to the Narcos?”

“Javier, javier…” he sighs “You are always focusing in the wrong things and not in the bigger picture”

“The bigger picture being…” Javier rolls his eyes at him

“You wouldn’t understand, I tried a few times in Colombia and you ended up fucking it all up” he shakes his head

“So what do you want from me now?”

“Well now that you are here fucking everything up again I’d prefer if the repercussions go to the right direction”

“Which is it not yours, I guess, or whomever you’re working for”

“Yeah” he laughs and points at him “you’re smart when you want”

“And wouldn’t it be better to kill us right away?”

“Oh, you see, my associetes want to do it” Stechner nods “The really don’t give a fuck. But I told them that you could be of service”

“You’re really delusional if you think…”

Stechner interrupts him “And if you weren’t willing to cooperate we could always resort to the good old ways” the man walks to a nearby table, over the white sheet there’s a manila folder. Bill opens it slowly, that stupid smirk back at again on his face, relishing on the desperation and fear in Javi’s eyes.

Please, not Isa, please not my child

“Your wife made a new friend, it’s a small world after all, isn’t it?” Stechner shows him a picture, he recognises the cafe, Isa is seated talking to another woman he hasn’t seen in years.

“Judy is very nice when she wants” he takes out another picture, this time Isa is on the backyard playing with Elvi “You have a very beautiful family”

“If you touch them, motherfucker” Javi tries to get out of the chair, he doesn’t even care if the metal from the cuff cuts his wrists. He just want to do what he has wanted to do since he started working in Colombia and crossed paths with the CIA

“They won’t, it is entirely upon you that this is just a simple anecdote. I promised I’ll try to control them...if you do what you have to do” Stechner shrugs and throws the pictures to the floor where they rest in front of Javi’s feet

“What do you want?” he murmurs, his gaze is fixed on those images trying to see something, when were they taken? how does he know if they already hurt them?

Please, please he begs and his vision is starting to blurry

“Well, my associates will appreciate it if the DEA will center its efforts on our common enemy. You see it right? it’s the same story all over again; the enemy of my enemy is my friend…”

“I’m not DEA anymore”

“Are you? I mean you’re here with your dear Steve in an ongoing investigation that mainly relies on your testimony so…”

Stechner roams around Javier’s chair “It’s not like you haven’t done it before, Javi, think about it as if you are involving yourself with the lesser evil, there will be a time to capture my associates, but not now”

“Just go back home and when the time comes you can assure the DEA that those terrible horrible people that are getting that poison in our beautiful country are involved with our common enemy. What is the difference between one Cartel and the other? It just a matter of time they both get caught” he continues

“Why are you involved in this?”

“We’ve done this many times, Peña, let it go. It’s better this way or do you want to end up like Kiki? or better yet, your beautiful wife or your kid?” Bill points to the pictures of the Peña’s family “think about it”

And he thinks about it, the hate and the fear burning in his chest. So many years protecting himself in covers of solitude, brief encounters to relieve the stress and alcohol, protecting his heart from this fear and pain of getting his family killed for his job.

You did this to them, you looked for it. Now what?

Isa (Laredo)

She drives fast, fast as she has never driven before. She has always been a very responsible person and even more when she became a mother. Elvira is seated on the back, her little hands holding the seat hard and she has called her a few times, her voice shaky and scared.

“Mami, where are we going?”

“To Grandpa’s, honey”

“You’re too fast”

“I know, but we need to get there now”

The screeching sound of the tires stopping abruptly on the road has alerted Chucho who now waits with the porch lights on when they get out of the car.

“Mija, what’s wrong?” he screams

“I think Javi is in the danger”