#more marcus being a dad content for the soul

[hoperays-song]

Why was this cut??? It's so cute, I love it so much!!!

[starlight-starwrites]

That was suppose to be on anon so ignore that last one Marcus growing up and I'm high school going to art museums with a shy girl who doesn't talk much and he developed a crush on her

i saw this and said ‘perfect. lets get some soft pining marcus pike up in this bitch’ and then i did. i think. (and trust me im def ignoring you. idk who you are). ((and im not saying that the reason marcus works in the ART department is bec of his first love, but...that’s exactly what i’m saying)).

-marcus still remembers you from time to time, even though its been, what? 25 years since he last saw you? he’s been through one divorce, one rushed and broken engagement. he doesn’t even want to think about the failed girlfriends. yet he still thinks about you.

-he’s always been a romantic, a sensitive kid. he gave the bullies in school as good as he got, but he had a kind soul.

-he blames that very soul for the reason he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

-you had gone to elementary school together. then middle school. he wasn’t even sure at first, but then, yes, he saw you in high school too.

-the two of you knew each other and were friendly, always saying a passing hello when you saw each other, not afraid to goof around together after school with a few friends. but he never really knew you.

-he guessed your favorite color from your backpack and the shoes you wore almost every day. you knew your favorite band in middle school when it seemed like all your friends could talk about. he knew the park that you would hang out at with your friends because he hung out there too. on the other side. with his friends.

-he always wanted to know more. wished that you wanted to know him too. but he didn’t know how to talk to you.

-you were quiet, though not nearly as sensitive as some people made you out to be. when you were younger, bullies had often gotten bored of you, and instead of being a target, you were usually left behind. you didn’t let it bother you, content with your books and your art and the few friends you actually liked.

-you remember marcus, the brave boy who couldn’t bear to see others being put down. you decided you liked him. he was nice to you, smiled in the hallways. sometimes you liked to think he liked you, but you chalked it off as wishful thinking.

-marcus really wished he could have told you he liked you. but he was awkward, and gangly teenager, and surely someone as pretty and smart like you wouldn’t be impressed. but when you were both in high school, and he...accidentally asked you out, he could have punched himself when he saw how easily you agreed to it.

-you had been in english class, were supposed to be working on a group project when somehow the subject of art had come up. he noticed the way your eyes flashed and a smile tugged at your lips, and next thing he knew he was nudging you into talking about what you thought, and you mentioned one of your favorite artists, and that jogged his memory.

-his mom had gotten some flier in the mail, some discount on museum admission. he remembered because she stuck it to the fridge saying the family should go and he rolled his eyes at the thought of being dragged around an art museum with his sisters and his parents over the weekend.

-but suddenly the thought of walking around a museum didn’t sound so unappealing. before he knew it he was telling you about it, saying maybe ‘we could check it out sometime. it sounds cool.’

-he wanted to hit himself. sounds cool. how dumb was he?

-but then you were smiling, tucking your hair behind your ear and agreeing. he couldn’t believe it. by the end of the day, the two of you already agreed on a day and time to meet. he didn’t want to have to ask his parents for a ride (he didn’t have his license yet but he sure as hell wasn’t driving you and his dad) but then he said ‘bike’ and you had just gotten a new one and it seemed like fate.

-you had thought about hesitating when marcus mentioned going to the museum together but...it was marcus. you’ve technically known each other since you were five. and maybe you really wanted to do something cool like this. was it a date? were you just friends? you didn’t even care at this point, it was progress.

-when marcus makes it home after school, he runs straight to his room, busy with ‘homework.’ he looks up the museum immediately, writes down the names of the displayed artists and looks them up too. he knows you take this stuff seriously, and if he finally has this chance to impress you, he’s not going to waste it.

-late that night when he satisfied he’s got a good background on anything that could come up, he remembers its only wednesday.

-next day in class he makes sure to sit directly next to you, unofficially assigned seats be damned. it’s a little gesture, but it speaks volumes. and when he walks out with you to your next class you think about it for the rest of the day.

-the two of you see each other in class, between classes as the next two days pass. neither of you are counting down the time til saturday afternoon. definitely not.

-when the time arrives, and marcus pulls up on your driveway, he finally feels the nerves. sure, he was nervous before, but it was excitement too. now the settling panic of going up to your house and talking to you was too much. but then he sees you coming from the garage, walking your bike next you and wearing the cutest smile he’s ever seen.

-and a dress. a really nice dress. well, casual enough, but you look nice and he thinks he tries to tell you that but it doesn’t come out right because you’re laughing at him, but then you say he looks nice too, and he feels underdressed now, but you’re already getting on your bike and adjusting your skirt and looking at him with a smile before asking “ready?”

-he has to put a lot of effort into not sounding like a loon. he settles for a smile and a “sure.”

-in retrospect, he should have considered that the place would be packed today. there was a flier that went out to the whole town for goodness sake. and its a saturday. in fairness, the line to enter didn’t take too long, but there certainly were a lot of awkward pauses in conversation that made it feel longer. you had your hands clasped in front of you. he kept his in his pockets.

-the exhibits were fine. he could tell you appreciated them, went up to inspect every single one. sometimes he joined you. sometimes he stepped back and appreciated you.

-he jumped in too, tried to bring up something he had studied. you smiled at him every time, even when he got it wrong. and it didn’t matter, because then you came right back and told him everything, explained it better than he had ever heard it.

-you talked to him and he would never forget it. with each piece, each fact you shared he felt like he knew you better. there was never an awkward silence after that.

-when you finally reached the new exhibit, it was packed. the two of you stood at the entryway for a few minutes, hoping that the crowd would thin. when only more people shoved their way in, you looked ready to give up.

-you offered to move on, take one last loop around before leaving. marcus wouldn’t have any of it. you wanted to see the display, it was a collection of female painters from europe, and he was going to make sure you did. besides, he couldn’t deny he had an ulterior motive.

-he reached over to grab your hand, clasping it tightly in his, before he gave you a boyish grin and dragged you in. he pulled you through the throng of people, making sure you were with him the whole time, getting you up close.

-he stood at your back as you looked, keeping you close and protected. you stood there, a hand still in his, and you didn’t even see the painting. all you could do was think about him. surely this was a date?

-he asks you about the paintings. you tell him the bare minimum and hope it’s okay. he’s been so great the whole day, you never even realized he liked the same things you did.

-you spend another half hour in just the one room, looking over each piece. he tries to share something again, but he got the name of the painter wrong. you correct him, but he doesn’t even care because you’re still holding his hand.

-you keep talking after that day. he comes after school to the art club sometimes, you take a history class together. trips to museums become a more regular thing, and so does going to dinner. he kisses you at your back door, runs away as soon as he knows you’re in safe. he remembers things were good.

-he had decided in middle school he loved you, but he swore he fell even harder that day.

-but he also remembers it doesn’t last. first you move, then he does too. there had been a couple of phone calls, but it just wasn’t the same. he actually considers art school for a time, but between knowing his parents disapproval and his skills as an artist, he takes a different path, and art classes are just his elective. still he wonders if you went.

-even now he remembers you fondly. your ‘no care’ attitude on the outside, yet how deeply you cared on the inside. maybe it’s the idea of a first love that he keeps coming back to, even though he knows he doesn’t know you now. you come up in his mind, unbidden yet still welcome.

-he’s working when he sees you again. he’s been called to the national gallery of art--there’s been suspicions surrounding the transfer of an incoming painting from the louvre--and you’re there. you’re standing there, working, and he doesn’t even know what to think.

-you look as though you’ve barely changed. older sure, and your hair is different, you dress differently too. but he knows the shape of your face, the quirk of your lips. you even stand the same way, that little lean and jut of your hip.

-he doesn’t even realize he’s just standing there smiling at your profile until he hears someone call his name. and that’s when you notice him. you have only known one ‘marcus pike’ in your life, but you are surprised to hear it prefixed by ‘agent’.

-you see his back--broad shoulders in a trim suit, brown hair that is kept neat, but longer than the marcus you knew. he turns finally, and you see the beard. you can’t even be sure. there are some similarities to the boy you knew but...you meet his eyes.

-it’s him. it’s definitely him. you see the museum director still talking to him, but he’s smiling at you. you can’t help but smile back. you really hope he’s listening, because your employer is not very forgiving.

-your attention is taken away soon enough, but as soon as you both have a moment, he striding to you and you turn to him. he says your name like a question, as though he can’t believe its you. you respond with an amused “marcus” and it’s enough for him.

-he goes for a hug, and you happily meet him. then you’re both asking each other so many questions at once, neither of you can get a word in. its all laughs and smiles, and you learn that not is he just an agent, but an fbi agent in the art department. it might be the sexiest job you’ve heard of, right behind archeology.

-you tell him about yourself, how you’ve been in dc for the last 10 years, how you got this dream job restoring the famous works you had so admired. he’s proud of you, he says so. you don’t know how to ask if he has a family. surely he does.

-marcus finds himself looking at your hands all too often, but they’re blocked by the clipboard you hold. it feels so easy to talk to you again, even after all these years. as though you were the sort of friends that couldn’t be separated by time. when he finally catches a glance at your left hand, he feels relief when he doesn’t see a ring. it may not mean too much, but its something.

-he suggests lunch and you agree. you talk about work, the city, your pasts. it feels like putting on an old jacket that still fits. broken in and familiar. for the first time since his move to dc, marcus feels hope. if all the heartbreak he’d endured, all the blood and sweat he put into his job had gotten him nothing but a new, empty apartment maybe he’d still feel like he did. but now he knows you’re in dc, and he can’t help but think it’s fate.

[babygirlofwakanda]

A Time To Give Thanks | Chapter 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER — Chapter One

CHARACTERS — Giselle X Chris Hemsworth

CONTENT — Thanksgiving Shenanigans, Family Ties, Soul Food, Tradition and Southern Hospitality

PLOT — The Hollywood couple and their children fly out to Giselle’s hometown for Thanksgiving this year.

NARRATIVE — The soul food filled the house; replacing the vanilla scent that once filled the house.

With silver trays of steaming collards green, sizzling turkey and corn brought by arriving family members the side dishes added to the lingering smell of food already in the house from the night before.

Downstairs checking on the glistening ham the barefaced beauty stepped back from the heated source before closing the oven. Taking her mittens off Giselle went onto stirring the mac & cheese but before she could, she was frantically waved over by her sister who stood by the drink table dumping a couple of ice cubes in the two dozen red cups.

Twisting her face up out of instinct the actress maneuvered through her aunties and uncles before she reached Iris, “What’chu want Iris? I’m busy girl.”

Cutting her chocolate eyes at her sister’s sly smirk and quirked eyebrow, “Hm, I know what your nasty ass doin’ last night.” She started, instantly making Giselle’s face scrunch up in confusion before she remembered why her vagina was aching today.

Instantly dropping her mouth as her eyes went wide, Giselle pinched her sister’s shoulder, “Iris! You need to keep your fuckin’ voice,” She said, as she looked around to see if anyone noticed her words, “—your voice down and stop ear hustlin’ on what does or doesn’t happen in my room.” Giselle sassed.

Jerking away from her oldest sister’s hold Iris rebutted, “Huh-uh don’t start that GiGi! You and Chris out’here makin’ all that damn noise at two in fuckin’ morning like my bedroom isn’t next door!”

Before either of them could even respond the siblings were interrupted by Chris strolling into the kitchen with two more bags of ice and Niel following behind with a few more boxes of cups. Squinting her eyes at her sister, Giselle greeted them, “—hey y’all!”

“Wassup G and Iris,” Niel smiled, “Hello.” The Aussie greeted, with a headnod at Iris and a wink at his wife.

“I see dad got y’all working today.” Iris chuckled, making the men sigh and stifled out a laugh. “You just don’t know big head,” Niel let out an exhausted laugh, before he wiped his forehead, “—but imma be right back. I’m gonna go check on Elianna.” He said, before side hugging his sisters and dapping up Chris.

“So, what time did my dad wake you up?” Giselle questioned, as she shifted towards her husband.

“Around eight-ish.”, “Aw, thats too bad. I had some plans for us to do before we got started with our day, but I guess that’ll have to wait for later.” The actress promised, making her brow quirk while her tone of voice softened; lingering in his ear and sadly, Iris’s.

Kissing her teeth, “Uh, do I need to leave the kitchen or what?” Iris questioned, with borderline annoyance inflected in her voice making the couple pull away.

After stepping back, Giselle sighed with a hand on her forehead while her husband excused himself and exited the kitchen leaving the annoyed Brown sisters.

Squinting her eyes at her Iris, Giselle scoffed and folded her arms. “Oo! Yall lovebirds make me sick!”

“Y’all were lucky mama and daddy’s room was down the hallway otherwise y’all two would be ass out in the street.” Iris cackled, with her head tossed back before she returned back to filling the cups.

With her eyebrow quirked Giselle instantly spat out her rebuttal, “Oh Iris, honey you don’t want to start with me, but since we airing shit out riddle me this.”

“Why exactly did you ask daddy for those batteries today hm? Lying and saying it was for your remote— when we both know it’s for a certain remote alright.”

Folding her arms as her hip poked out, Giselle hummed out as Iris failed to respond leaving her stumbling over her words. “That’s what I thought.”

“So, you what was that bout’ me and Chris again?”

——————————

“—you made me happy, this you can bet. You stood right beside me— yeah and I’ll never forget..”

Synchronized dancing and collective singing ranged out of the kitchen and echoed through the rest of the house as Frankie Beverly and Maze’s Before I Let Go played from the speakers. Struggling to squeeze past eachother to put whatever dish they wanted on their plates; the Brown and Hemsworth family crowded the space as they broke up the single-file line.

“What’chu want on your plate baby?”, “Uhh I want that and ham!” Giselle saw Amelia point to the ham and the platter of Devil’s eggs. After putting the food on her plate Giselle went onto making Sienna’s plate before she did her own. Glancing over at Chris while she scooped some green beans on her plate Giselle watched her husband struggle to make his plate.

“Y’know maybe it’ll help if you put her down.”

“Aht! Don’t worry about what we doing, Mia tell auntie to quit worrying about us.” Chris kissed his teeth while Mia drooled and bobbed her fist around before he walked towards the drinks. With her eyes still on Chris, she twisted her mouth around as she saw how her husband has interacted with Mia.

Catching her husband mumble a few words to her niece, Giselle watched Mia’s heavy head drop within seconds before she reached up and gripped Chris’s neckline as she fought from closing her heavy eyes.

Melting at the sight Giselle found herself questioning her decision to hold off on having another baby once more. Exhaling, the actress took her eyes off the two only to glance down at her three brown babies for a second; could she really handle another one?

After she finished making the children’s and her plates Giselle left her kids sitting with their second cousins before she walked outside and sat down at the outside dining table. Settling down next to Chris who still managed to eat his food while keeping Mia close to his chest while responding to her cousin, Kj.

“Aye! Quit naggin’ him Kj! We didn’t come down here to breakdown every Marvel movie.” Giselle rebutted, making her cousin smack his lips while Chris stifled out a laugh. “—and that goes for the rest of y’all.”

“We just wanna know what happens to Thor!”

After finishing their food and feeding baby Mia, the couple’s rest of the evening was spent separated.

With Chris being pulled away by her cousins and siblings, he stayed outside with the men of her family who were laughing and sharing a case of Heineken’s.

Meanwhile, Giselle sat at the kitchen table chatting with her female cousins and younger sister. Gulping down the burgundy beverage the actress laughed at her cousin, “—then Marcus had the audacity to start that ‘I’m tired’ bullshit like man ion’ wanna hear that shit after I’ve been working all day, saddle up nigga!”

“I’m tired of that mothafucka holding out on me then he called himself tryna edge me and shit— I almost choked him when I was able to stand on my feet.”

“I swear I can’t stand that fine ass nigga. Just look at him outside laughing like shit is so sweet; ah hee hee haa haa ass nigga.” Giselle’s cousin, Rachel mocked, before kissing her teeth and throwing her wine back.

Tossing her head back at her cousin’s story Giselle went to bring her glass of Chardonnay to her mouth when suddenly a bitter fluid entered her mouth and began to puddle over her tastebuds. Wincing at the vile taste the actress closed her mouth and harshly swallowed before she started for her glass again.

—but her body had other plans, before Giselle could even lift her hand up by an inch she abruptly tasted the sour fluid back in her mouth followed by the sudden thrust of her food beginning to retrace.

Immediately throwing a hand over her mouth the actress slammed down her wine glass and stood up; spilling and staining the alcohol on the table while her chair screeched from her brisk moves.

Quickly gaining the attention of her family members, “GiGi is everything fine? Sweetheart, you’re looking a little gre—,” before her sister could finish getting her question out Giselle ran to the nearest bathroom.

Reaching the powder room the nauseous woman didn’t even get the chance to turn on the light before she fell to her knees, cradled the toilet and started to release the chunks from her mouth. With the plops of her contents splashing into the water while she threw up, Giselle missed the heavy footsteps coming down the hall before she felt a warm palm on her back.

Heaving against the toilet Giselle fluttered her eyes open and caught her husband kneeling down beside her side while combing her hair into a loose ponytail.

—and right behind Chris stood her mama searching for a washcloth to clean her baby’s face afterward.

“Baby! Giselle are you ok? Look at me.” Beginning to turn her head Giselle felt her stomach jolt and before she knew it she was hunched over the toilet again.

“—shit!” Chris hissed, while he caressed his wife’s back and waited until Giselle was done throwing up.

Hearing Giselle groan as he propped her body up against the wall, Chris moved fast as he flushed the toilet before he grabbed the wet cloth Mama Janice was pushing towards him. Holding her face with his left hand Chris wiped Giselle’s mouth with the other before he folded the cloth and dapped it across her face. “Do you feel better babe? Do you feel like you have to go again baby?” Chris questioned, voice slightly shaking as he stared into her dim eyes.

Watching her head slowly move side to side, the Australian nodded before he helped his wife to her feet only for her knees to starting buckling causing Chris to move on his feet and swiftly pick Giselle up.

“Oh, God!” Mama Janice rasped, as she stared at her oldest daughter before moving to open the door.

“Thanks mama. Hey, uh— can you bring me a can of ginger ale and some of those saltine crackers? Imma go ahead and take Giselle upstairs,” Chris requested.

“Yes, of course honey. Now gon’ and take my baby to her room, I’ll be up there soon.” Mama Janice sassed, before she shooed her son-in-law out the confined space and dismissed the lingering relatives.

Entering the hallway Chris headed towards the staircase when a voice called out to him, “Daddy! Is mommy gonna be okay?” before footsteps followed.

Immediately spotting a confused, but somewhat distressed Amelia coming closer, “Hey! Mommy is gonna be alright yea? She’s just a little sick okay, so why don’t you go with—um,” Chris paused, while he looked up and spotted Iris. “—come with me, baby.”

“Let’s go see what your siblings and cousins are doin’ in the kitchen huh? You feel like coloring Lia’?” Chris heard Iris question, while she walked Amelia away.

Sighing, Chris went on and took Giselle upstairs and got her tucked into the bed. After persuading his wife to sip on the ginger ale, Chris watched Giselle sleep for a minute before he placed a kiss on her forehead and headed out of the bedroom; letting Giselle be.

——————————

A daze greeted Giselle as she stirred awake before a yawn rippled her features. Curling up before pushing her arms out the brown beauty slowly propped up on her forearm and blinked while she looked around the bedroom. Noticing the can of ginger ale and pack of saltines, Giselle recalled what happened earlier.

Instantly tasting the bitter residue from earlier she frowned before sitting up, swinging her legs around the bed to brush her teeth. After freshening up for a minute, she reached the bottom of the staircase and went to look for her husband. Following the laughs, Giselle walked into the kitchen and quickly spotted Chris; standing in a corner laughing with Quinton.

Sliding past her family members Giselle reached Chris, “—uh, baby..” She whined, as she playfully nudged her younger brother aside to hug her man.

“Aye!”, “You feeling better baby, hm?” The Aussie asked, before he leaned back and held her face up with his palms on the sides of face. “Much better.”

“Plus, your color came back; you’re not as green.”

Nodding her head, Giselle exhaled before she pouted her lips and blinked up at her husband.

Without a second thought, Giselle felt Chris’s damp lips on hers, “Ugh! Can y’all cut that shit out. Now, I know what Iris was talking bout’— shit that might be why your sick GiGi.” Giselle heard Quinton complain.

Quickly freezing, the couple stared at eachother and let a wave of silence pass by before they busted out laughing, “Puh-lease!” Giselle giggled, before she placed her head back onto Chris’s heated chest.

Little did the couple know that Giselle’s younger siblings were onto something life-changing.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — This was just a quick little wrap up! More Chris and Giselle is coming in a couple of days. Anyways, thanks for reading and supporting!

TAGLIST — @wakandas-vibranium @oceanscorazon @melaninmarvel @wakandamama @storibambino @chaneajoyyy @ashanti-notthesinger @lewatigress @wakanda-inspired @blowmymbackout @theblulife @kreolemami @amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes @lildashofmelanin @iamrheaspeaks @ororowrites @kumkaniudaku @theunsweetenedtruth @s0eul @klaylakayblack @shortstacks-blog @destinio1

[falkenscreen]

Always Be My Maybe

Netflix aren’t short on romcoms or talent. Here’s the latest content to orbit around the average mark.

Sasha Tran (Ali Wong) and Marcus Kim (Randall Park), best mates their entire adolescence, part ways after their first awkward and abrupt sexual encounter. Sixteen years later Sasha, a jet-setting restaurateur, returns to her home town and, getting an air conditioner installed, reunites with Marcus, now working in his dad’s business.

Wong and Park being roundly charming, their gags and one-liners, many of them leveraging off the (sadly uncommon) multifarious Asian cast and Asian-American cultural setting, land about half the time. It is however James Saito as Marcus’ dad Harry who steals every scene he’s in and would do so alone save the very welcome addition of yet another very talented Asian-North American star. More on this later, and only noting the performer’s background because, well, in Wong’s words; “Maybe other people didn’t know but I never forgot that.”

The plotting is unabashedly predictable and we are left in do doubt how figures like Sasha’s feckless fiancée will pan out. Significantly, the familiar story beats do come at unexpected stages, lending the whole thing some unpredictability. The scenes with Marcus’ band are enjoyable while the whole ‘moving on with your life/going back to your roots’ struggle strongly resonates, here reflected in the long-estranged pair. Like Crazy Rich Asians doing well to delve somewhat into the cultural divides between Asian-Americans and Asians living outside of North America, the big screen insight into groups that haven’t always been front and centre in Hollywood is rewarding and, even though it should long since have ceased to be, novel.

Now; Keanu Reeves. Far and above the best thing about this movie and the internet right now, Always Be My Maybe’s release couldn’t have been more ideally timed amidst an onslaught of feel-good Keanu stories reminding us just how nice the universe can be.

Reeves, hilariously tuned into and skewering his dual public personas of the soulful, abjectly kind contemplator (his name literally means ‘cool breeze over the mountains’) and that of his Neo, Wick-esque fight-ready machismo, his extended cameo is an absolute delight. Blending the two as he seamlessly transforms from an at least outwardly kind figure into a combative force, Reeves asking for a dish that plays with the concept of time and then weeping as the cries of the cow he is eating are played to him over headphones is pure, comedy, gold.

Better for his presence, Always Be My Maybe won’t join the pantheon of romcom greats but, more memorable than very many, is an ideal flick for an easy watch.

Always Be My Maybe is now streaming on Netflix

[marshmallow-phd]

The Experiments

(gif not mine)

Genre: Sci-Fi, Thriller, Experiment AU

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Exo (????)

Summary: You were a med school graduate who just wanted to help research cures for the world. Instead, what you got was a dream job at EXO Applied Sciences. That is, until you discover the secrets of Level Sixty-Six and the nine inhabitants that are stored down there….

Warning: mentions of abuse

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I 18 I 19 I 20 I 21 I 22 I 23 I Final

The boys were getting restless. You could feel it. Marcus had said that the contact would be at the cabin within the week, but it had already been over a week and a half with no sign of any other living soul in the vicinity. There was still plenty of food in the house so that didn’t worry you. But what if the contact never arrived? What would happen then?

If Marcus was still here, you wouldn’t have worried so much. He’d have a way to contact someone from his department. Get the boys out of here. But he wasn’t here.

It’d taken you a while, but now you could think about your friend without breaking down. His bullet wound and the way his body slumped to the ground after his heart had stopped still haunted you, but you could push it away when it was necessary. Tears were now controllable.

There wasn’t much to do around the house. Baekhyun had found a few board games, but that only kept their attention for so long. You wondered if being cooped up here was worse.

Of course it wasn’t. They still had their free will. But it was like dangling a carrot in front of a starving donkey, keeping what it really wanted to just out of it’s reach. You wouldn’t let them go outside in case they were spotted. The area was far from civilization, but you couldn’t risk it. One mistake could be fatal for all.

On a particularly claustrophobic afternoon, you had snuck into one of the spare rooms that was set up like a study on the second floor. The windows gave you a nice view of the woods. Sitting on the bench under the ledge, you just stared out at the nature before you, absentmindedly rubbing your scar.

Birds were zooming in and out of the pine needle branches, singing to each other as they went about their day. Occasionally, a squirrel would ventru out and jump from one trunk to another and you even spotted a doe leading her young deer away from the house.

It was strange, how at peace you felt in this moment. As much as you worried about the future, in the current hour, you were content. You didn’t miss your work or apartment. The boys were the reason you kept yourself going to the lab. They came with you so you couldn’t bring yourself to miss running blood work everyday or straining your eyes on multiple monitors.

Instead, you felt rejuvenated by the forest, away from society. Like this had been what you were really striving for in your life. The boys made it more like home, helping you with chores and making you laugh, some of them still prone to more childish antics.

Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Jongdae had settled on spending their time playing tricks on the others. You couldn’t help but laugh at some of their schemes. They reminded you more of happy, clumsy beagles than ferocious wolves.

“Are you all right?”

Junmyeon had snuck into the office, closing the door behind him softly before sitting across from you on the nook, joining in on the peace and quiet.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just not used to being surrounded by people twenty-four seven.”

Junmyeon laughed. “Yeah, they’re a bit much sometimes.”

Shrugging, you chuckled a bit. “Most of the time, I enjoy everyone’s company, I just spent most of my time alone before all this. I was never really outgoing.”

That made Junmyeon frown. “Why not? You seem to interact with us just fine.”

“I don’t think you guys really count,” you replied. Sighing, you looked back out the window. “I used to not be so afraid of people, but-” You bit your lip. This is what you had been afraid of. They made you too comfortable. And now your mouth had ran off without your brain.

“But what?” Junmyeon scooted closer to you. “(y/n), you can trust me.”

You shook your head, dropping your gaze down to your hands. “It’s not about trust. I just don’t like talking about it.”

“You were about to.”

Of course you were. You’d stopped just in time. Anxiety in overdrive, your thumb was rubbing your scar so hard you could feel the burning friction between your skin. Junmyeon placed his hand over yours and brought your wrist to him, inspecting the now red surface area. Normally, you would have yanked your arm back and ran for the hills, but the warmth emanating from Junmyeon’s eyes as he took in the detail of the scar, grazing it oh-so gently with his fingers tips stopped you.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

“I was thirteen,” you answered, nearly startling yourself. But once one little fact was released, everything else just came out. “My best friend was being abused. At first, she wouldn’t tell me. She’d lie and say it was an accident. She fell or ran into something.”

“A boyfriend?” Junmyeon guessed.

You shook your head. “Her dad. She was the only girl and the youngest. Her older brothers were gifted. Smart. Athletic. He had the same expectations of her, but she didn’t meet them. She was under so much pressure. It took a lot of prodding from me, but she finally told me everything.” You swallowed back tears, remembering how shaken she was as you held her, taking in everything she told you.

“I thought I was helping. Everyone said that if your friend told you something was going on at home then you told an adult. So, I did. I told our teacher. The teacher called the authorities. She’d seen the bruises too, but now she had me to back her theory up. Child services came and looked everything over, but her father was able to charm them off. Then he beat her some more for being ungrateful.” Junmyeon was right next to you now, rubbing your arm up and down to comfort you as you let it all out.

“What happened?”

Taking a deep breath, you finished out the third act of the story. “I thought she’d hate me forever, but she didn’t. She said that she understood. I was just trying to help. When her family was out of town, she invited me over for a sleepover. Everything was fine. Until we went to bed. After I’d fallen asleep, she’d snuck downstairs and turned the stove on. The police say she must have coated a washcloth in grease left from dinner and threw it on the stove along with a lit match, starting a fire. I woke up coughing. The bedroom was on the second floor. Smoke was everywhere. I ran out to the hallway. I couldn’t find her. I didn’t understand what was going on. All I could think of was getting out of the house, away from the fire. A piece of the ceiling that was on fire fell and hit my arm as I was running for the front door. Third degree burns that scarred my wrist.” You closed your eyes, trying to push away the images. “I can still hear her screams sometimes.

“The police ruled it a suicide. Her mom tried to take her own life a few weeks later. Took a whole bottle of pills but they got her to the hospital in time. Sometimes, I wonder if I had just kept my mouth shut, if I hadn’t told anyone, she might still be here.”

“No, (y/n).” Junmyeon carrassed your face with the back of his hand. “You did what you thought was right. You wanted to save your friend. You can’t blame yourself. She made her decision. I’m honestly thankful that you at least survived. Because I got to meet you.”

Your eyes met his and your heart started beating erratically in your chest. Those brown eyes steadily stayed on you, reading you like you were the most sacred text that was bringing light into his life. Since the day you walked into his cell, Junmyeon always seemed to be able to see right through you. He opened you up as easily as a worn out paperback and it scared you. Never in his presence had you ever felt fear or in danger. His presence calmed you and his skin against yours… felt like home. And he trusted you completely.

“I almost didn’t do it,” you confessed.

Junmyeon knit his eyebrows together, dropping his hands to his lap. “Do what? Tell your teacher?”

“No,” you countered. “I almost didn’t agree to break you guys out.” Holding your breath, you waited. You thought maybe he would pull away, become angry with you. But he didn’t.

“It couldn’t have been an easy decision,” he replied. “But what matters is that you did. You’re a strong person, (y/n). I admire that.”

You pouted. “Do you have any sort of flaw?”

He laughed, caught off guard by your sudden playful comment. Even though it did lift the mood, you were serious. Suddenly you felt like a repeating sinner in the presence of a saint.

The door to the study opened. Chanyeol peaked his head in. A large, toothy smile had been on his face when he first saw you, but noticing Junmyeon’s closeness, it faltered.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you stood up, putting space between the two of you. “Yes, Chanyeol?”

He blinked, taking a few seconds before answering you. “Yixing and Kyungsoo made dinner. We wanted to wait for you first.”

You smiled at the thoughtfulness. “Of course. Let’s go.”

Not looking at Junmyeon, you passed Chanyeol, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the stairs. Your turn of attention to him seemed to bring his mood up once more.

Everyone was already gathered at the island. There was a decent sized dining table in the next room over, but the boys didn’t care for it. Neither did you. Eating around the kitchen island helped all of you feel closer. Like a family.

They were your family now. While there were moments where you missed your parents, you felt that if you were suddenly ripped away from the boys, it would devastate you. It was the kind of loss that could kill you.

“Bbbuuuurrrrrrppppppp.”

“Oh, now, that’s just disgusting,” you complained. A terrible side effect for some of the boys was their lack of manners. Well, one particular boy’s lack of manners.

Baekhyun just let out his signature laugh you could recognize on a whole different floor. Some of the others laughed as well, while a few were on your side. Yixing frowned. Kyungsoo rolled his eyes and Junmyeon just sighed. Chanyeol was laughing as well until he caught your disapproving glare. His mouth shut with an audible clamp.

Minseok shook his head. “I was going to ask why you’re acting like a caged animal, but then I realized what a dumb question that was.”

You choked on your food holding back a laugh. It shouldn’t have been funny to you at all given their circumstances, but you couldn’t help it. The accuracy of the statement was just to spot on.

Confused eyes trained on you.

“You know,” Jongdae chuckled, “I didn’t know you had a sick sense of-”

He stopped. All the boys froze, their ears visibly strained, hearing something your own failed to pick up on. Collectively, they all jumped up, scrambling over each other to the hall. You were several steps behind them, nearly running to Yixing’s back as they all crowded in the front parlor around the door.

Stepping around the gentle wolf, you started towards the door, still unable to understand what was going on. Jongin jumped forward, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from going any further. He lifted your feet off the ground, taking you back away from the door. Chanyeol and Junmyeon stood on either side, creating a three-man wall in front of you.

“What is going on?” you whispered.

“There’s someone outside,” Junmyeon whispered back.

“Their scent....,” Chanyeol murmured. “There’s something familiar about it.”

They all sniffed the air, trying to put their fingers on what they could be smelling.

Sehun’s eyes widened. “Wait. I know-”

He ran for the door, pushing past his smaller hyungs.

Baekhyun tried to stop him. “No, Sehun-”

It was too late. The young, impulsive wolf threw open the door. Everyone gasped loudly except for you.

It was a young man with light blonde hair and a soft face. A crooked smile adorned his lips, recognition in his eyes. Sehun threw his arms around the newcomer’s neck, his own shoulders shaking slightly as quiet sobs escaped.

Your eyes widened. Several of the boys had mentioned the missing members in detail during your sessions, but by Sehun’s particular reaction to the visitor’s presence, you knew he could only be one person.

Number Zero-Seven.

Minseok fell to his knees in disbelief.

“Luhan.”

[blackwidownat2814]

Technically, I Flew (1/2)

Here is my first attempt at Deckerstar fic.  I hope you guys enjoy it!! (I’m currently finishing up Part 2.)

AO3

‘techinically, I flew’

“Lucifer.  Lucifer.” He takes one last look at Pierce’s body before standing to look at his detective.  He doesn’t notice her wide eyes and stiff stance when she sees him. “It’s all true.”

“Detective?”

“It’s all true.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

That’s when he noticed the look on her face.  He took a few steps forward but stopped when she took a step away from him.

“What is it Detective? Is everything alright?”  He made to reach towards her, but once again, she stepped back.

“What--wha…y-your face.  What…?”

“What do you mean?” Lucifer looked around until he saw a mirror leaning against a column off to the side of the carnage.  He walked over to it and pushed the cloth covering it away, stumbling backwards as he saw his face: his hair was gone, and the burnt, red flesh stretched over his skull and his eyes, like embers of Hellfire burning in their sunken sockets.  No wonder she was afraid.

“Did you kill him?” Chloe’s voice broke him out of his stupor and he spun around to see her crouched next to Pierce’s body.  She kept her eyes on Pierce and didn’t look up at him.

“Yes.”  Lucifer hesitated before continuing.  “He tried to kill you.  He tried to kill me…several times.  He shot me--”  Chloe’s head snapped up to him, taking in the six shots in his chest.

“He shot you?!”

“You were far enough that I was not affected.  But then he pulled out one of Maze’s knives and slashed me.  The knives were forged in Hell, so they’re one of the only things that can hurt me…besides you, of course.”

When Chloe looked away once more, he saw fear in her eyes: fear at his appearance and fear at what he’d done to Marcus.

“I’m sorry Chloe.” He backed away from her, “I should’ve shown you my true face when we first met.  Because then you wouldn’t have had to go through everything you’ve gone through because of me.”

“What are you even talking about Lucifer?  Everything that’s happened to me isn’t your fault.”

“YES IT IS!  I AM THE DEVIL…”  He saw Chloe’s eyes go wide once more and he just knew that his eyes flared and his wings unfurled.  “…I am the Devil, I told you I was…and I have brought pain and ruin on you. I won’t continue to do that, but I won’t keep anymore from you.”

“Oh my God.  The wings…the ones we went looking for on that case a couple years ago…they were real!”  Lucifer nodded.  “But…you cut them off.  The scars on your back…you cut them off.”

“Maze did, actually, with her demon blades.”

“Lucifer…”

“I got them back. When I woke up in the desert…I woke up with my wings.”  Before Lucifer could continue, Chloe’s walkie crackled to life.  Lucifer took the opportunity to move around the room and up the stairs to the window where he’d broken in earlier.

“Chloe!” Daniel’s voice called through the speaker, “Chloe! Are you and Lucifer alright?  What happened to that bastard?”  Chloe clicked the ‘TALK’ button on the walkie and responded.

“He’s dead, Dan. Marcus is dead.  It was a trap and he tried to kill us.  He shot me in the vest, but then Lucifer saved us, he fought back.  We’re both okay though.”

“I’m glad you two are okay.  Units have been dispatched to your location.  Hang tight, we’re coming to you.”

“Copy.”  Chloe clipped the walkie back to her belt and looked back at Lucifer.  As always, the Detective was the most astute person in the room.  He was going to miss her smile.  “What are you doing?”

“I told you I was going to tell you the truth about me”, Lucifer said, ignoring her query. His true face was still showing, he could feel it.  “That I was going to tell you the truth about my feelings for you.”

“Lucifer, you--” He held up a hand to stop her.

“Please, I need to get this out before everyone arrives.”  Lucifer took a deep breath, “I love you Chloe Jane Decker.  I don’t know how long it’s been, but probably since we started working together.  I’ve never lied to you, just like I’ve repeatedly told you.  Yes, I’ve kept things from you, but most of those were for your safety.  Not showing you my true face early on, to prove that I was the Devil, that was just me being selfish.

“It’s as if the fires of Hell never touched me when I’m in your presence.  Like I’m back in the Silver City, before Dad forced my hand and Fell.  Mum always called me her Lightbringer and her Morningstar, but I just knew if I showed you how I really am…I just knew I wouldn’t be bringing light into your life, I’d be taking it away…”  Chloe stepped forward, looking almost as if she were to lift her hand to his chest.  Lucifer was content that the last time he felt Chloe’s skin was when he was kissing her, he was going to miss that.

“You--”

“I will not burden you will this…horrid visage any longer.” Lucifer stepped closer to the broken window, “I’ve made arrangements so that you and the Spawn will be taken care of. I’ll miss you Detective.”  He jumped from the window and spread his wings, flying up and away from the building.  All he could hear, besides the wind, was Chloe’s voice screaming his name and pleading for him to come back.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~

 His first order of business would be to stop at Lux to make sure the ownership papers and other things were ready to go to his lawyer.  The club would go to Maze and his assets would be evenly distributed amongst Chloe, Maze, Dr. Linda, and even Daniel, with some going into a special account for Beatrice’s college future.

Lucifer landed on the balcony of the penthouse and hurried inside.  He was surprised to find Linda sitting on the couch and Maze asleep next to her.  His demon appeared to have suffered through a terrible bout.  Linda must have treated her.

“Lucifer!” Linda jumped up from the couch.  “Marcus was holding Maze.  Apparently, his plan was to pin Amenadiel’s murder on her. Where’s Amenadiel?”

“He has ascended and returned Home”, replied Lucifer.  He stalked to the bar and poured a brandy for himself.  He saw his face still showing, so he took a deep breath and he returned to his dashing good looks.  Lucifer downed the glass in one big gulp.  “Charlotte’s dead.  Marcus shot her last night when he went to try and kill my brother.”

“No!”

“She saved Amenadiel’s life, she gave hers for his.  Somehow, he got his wings back and took her soul to Heaven.  He’s gone as well.  I found one of his feathers at the scene of Charlotte’s murder.”

“I know she wasn’t your mother anymore, but are you okay?  Did you and Chloe catch Marcus?  Oh my God…how is Dan?” Linda rambled.

“Daniel was distraught, but he wished to stay on the case to help catch Marcus.  And yes, Chloe and I stopped him.  The bastard shot the Detective, but she was wearing a protective vest, so she’s fine.  His men tried to kill us both then, most likely having been told by Marcus that I was now vulnerable with Chloe in the vicinity.  I protected us and took her away.”  Lucifer grabbed the brandy bottle a took a gulp, deciding to forego a glass.

“Took her away? You flew her far enough, so you wouldn’t be hurt?”

“Of course. Pierce still tried however.  Six shots as you can see”, said Lucifer, motioning to his chest where the evidence still lay.  Then he pointed to the slash on his arm.  “He had one of Maze’s demon blades.  Almost had me too.  Marcus is dead.”

“Good.”  Lucifer and the doctor turned to the couch, where Maze was waking from her injuries.  “I only wish I had been able to kill the asshole.  I tried, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to boss.  If I had been able to stop him, Charlotte wouldn’t be dead.”

“It’s okay Mazikeen. He is suffering his eternal torment as we speak and I plan to make sure he suffers the worst I can come up with.”

“What are you talking about Lucifer?” Linda asked.

“He’s planning on going home”, said Maze, “Isn’t that right?”

“You’re welcome to come too Mazikeen.”

“What about Chloe? How are you going to explain this to her?”  He took another drag from the bottle before answering.

“She saw my face. She knows everything now”, he replied sadly, “And she wants nothing to do with me.”

“It is a lot Lucifer, for her to take in.  You have to understand and give her time”, said Linda.  “I could talk to her if you li--”

“NO!  I will not darken the Detective’s life any longer!” he yelled.  “Besides, you didn’t see how she looked at me.  After I explained everything that happened that she didn’t see and then she looked at his body, I saw fear in her eyes.  She feared me, and I cannot go through that after what happened with you, Linda.  Not with Chloe.  Not with someone I love.”

“You love her?”

“You know I do.” Lucifer looked over at Maze. Under all her cuts and bruises, she looked angry.  “What, Mazikeen?”

“I’m not going.”

“I thought all you wanted was to go home.”

“I like it her Lucifer.  I have friends, like Linda and the rest of the Tribe”, she said.  “I won’t do what you’re about to do, I won’t abandon them and run away.  Who’s going to be there for your detective when you disappear?  Who’s going to answer her questions?  Only Linda and I will be able to…because you decided to be a coward.”

Lucifer’s wings unfurled and his true face came forward.

“YOU FORGET YOUR PLACE MAZIKEEN! YOU WOULD DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT AND NOT TRY MY PATIENCE BECAUSE I CREATED YOU THEREFORE I CAN DESTROY YOU!”  Linda, not wanting to be in the middle of an argument between the Devil and his demon, hid behind the couch.  Maze, however, just stood there, picking the non-existent dirt from under her fingernails.

“Are you done?” she asked, sounding bored.  “Just go. Run away.  Linda and I will deal with this.”

“Arrangements have been made for all of you.  I will see you again Mazikeen.”  Lucifer turned to Linda, who’d come up from behind the couch.  “I hope I never see you again Doctor.  May you rejoice in your eternal life in the Silver City.”

“You don’t have to go Lucifer.  Stay. Stay and talk to Chloe.  She was probably just surprised, and wants you to explain everything.”

“Maybe, but I can’t risk that she never wants to see me again.  I couldn’t bear that kind of rejection, not from her.”  

Lucifer smiled at them both one last time and walked out onto the balcony once again.  He spread his wings and jumped.

[briangroth27]

The Exorcist Season 2 Review

I came into Season 2 wary of the show’s direction—in Season 1, I loved the Rance family plotline but found the papal conspiracy boring—so I was glad the show shifted focus almost completely to the “possession of the season.” Not only is a family in peril easier for me to relate to and invest in, but the conspiracy element has never felt very “Exorcist” to me and I’m glad it all but disappeared by the end of the season (even if the homage to Exorcist III’s famous hospital hallway scene was well done). In Season 2, a family was once again under siege by a demon and only Fathers Ortega (Alfonso Herrera) and Keane (Ben Daniels) could help them. This time, the family consisted of Andy Kim (John Cho) and the several foster children under his care (Brianna Hildebrand, Cyrus Arnold, Hunter Dillon, Alex Barmia, Amelie Eve, and eventually Beatrice Kitsos). I liked that the kids’ diversities—be they blindness, homosexuality, developmental issues, etc.—were utilized for characterization, but those were never the kids’ sole defining characteristics. I really hope fans didn’t take issue with the kids, Andy, and Rose (Li Jun Li) all representing some facet of diversity; this is what the world looks like and I’m glad the show fully embraced it. It’s also cool that a foster home run by a single dad was treated as just as viable a family as a traditional nuclear family.

Full spoilers…

I liked what all the kids brought to the family, particularly when their differences collided with each other, like Shelby’s religious beliefs and Verity’s torture at the hands of “pray out the gay” conditioning. However, it did seem like there might’ve been one too many children to fully dig into in terms of screentime. It felt like they all had solid, distinct personalities; they just didn’t have much to do. Early on it seemed like Caleb might have a bigger role to play, but outside of his initial adventure on the old well and a few moments of his blindness being used to create tension when he couldn’t see the possessed Andy, it felt like his story was a little thinner than it could’ve been. Ditto for Truck, who was sent away midway through the season. I definitely expected Shelby to become something of a junior exorcist when Marcus and Tomas arrived at the Kim household, but not doing so didn’t feel unfinished (particularly when you take into account what we learned of Marcus’ past with eager exorcists). I liked that he was identifying the unholy signs early on, though, and perhaps they could’ve nodded at him wanting to become an exorcist one day in the future. Harper didn’t get much time at the Kim house before things went crazy, but I did like that we got to see how the family adjusted to a new kid through her introduction. Verity got the most mileage out of the writing and Hildebrand crafted a compelling teen who didn’t always get along with her new family, but clearly loved them despite the front she sometimes put up. Going back for a book Andy had given her was a touching moment and I was happy she was the one to stick by Andy longest. I totally fell for the trick that “agoraphobic” Grace wasn’t real, though her “brave face”—the creepiest pillow case-turned-mask ever—should’ve been a major clue.

John Cho brilliantly balanced Andy’s grief over his wife Nicole’s (Alicia Witt) suicide, guilt for not seeing the signs of her depression, care for the kids, affection for Rose, and the demonic side that overtook him as the series progressed. I loved the layers of hallucinations the demon inflicted on him as it attempted to bond with him permanently by enticing him with a “fairy tale” life with his wife. Witt did a great job playing both the caring and troubled Nicole and the maliciously tempting demon trying to entrap him. I’m a fan of puns, so “the kids are in the garden” was a particularly fun bit of dark and ominous humor from her. The battle for Andy’s soul was intense and I liked that Andy had moments of lucidity where he was able to keep the demon from harming Verity, despite the demon’s attempts to convince him the kids distracted him from seeing Nicole’s depression and that Verity might’ve had a hand in driving Nicole to suicide by mocking her issues. Andy’s final act—keeping the demon tethered to his soul so it couldn’t possess anyone else, even if killing it meant dying with it—was tragically perfect. I wanted him to survive, but Verity was right: once he started killing people, no one would believe him. It wouldn’t have been much of a life for him to be arrested for murders he didn’t commit, but maybe he could’ve gone on the run with the priests or something. As things turned out, Andy’s sacrifice worked on an emotional level and the final battle with the demon was tense, touching, and scary in all the right ways; Andy’s goodbye to his kids almost made me cry. I liked that the kids got to start a new family with Rose, who Li Jun Li had made into a solid, supportive, and strong presence the entire season. I also liked that Rose was so open to inviting exorcists into the home to examine Andy; usually there’s a lot more skepticism to break through before the people around the possessed open themselves up to that possibility.

The tests of Tomas’ resolve when it came to saving Andy this season worked very well. I had a hard time knowing when he was in reality and when he wasn’t, making for some great twists and putting me in his confused mindset perfectly, particularly when the demon turned the exorcism around on Tomas. The demon dangling a vision of Tomas as a bishop was great, especially when it included Casey Rance (Hannah Kasulka) to try and guilt him for leaving his parishioners in Chicago to become an exorcist. I was a little surprised they didn’t have the demon play up Tomas’ temptation to stray from the strict celibacy commanded by the church, as we saw in Season 1, but I suppose we’ve already seen that and Tomas has grown. His apology on behalf of the church officials who tried to force Verity to be straight was a great moment and a nice recognition that not everyone in the church—even priests—is opposed to homosexuality. It was good getting to know Ben Marcus’ past more this year. Both his tragic family history and his past with Mouse (Zuleikha Robinson) worked well to illuminate him. I was surprised he left Mouse behind after her possession and I liked that his inaction then was juxtaposed with his resolution to stay and kill the demon possessing Andy in the present. Not wanting to repeat that mistake has probably driven much of his dedication to exorcising demons, even after falling from grace within the church. Marcus’ father killing his mother was also a clever tie to the island’s history of parents killing their families. Finding a bit of romance with Peter (Christopher Cousins) rather than continuing to drown in sadness was another nice touch. I wonder if Marcus actually did get a message from God at the end. If so—and if they can do something different than what Supernatural and Constantine have done—bringing in angels and God could be an interesting, fresh spin on The Exorcist mythos. Mouse joining Tomas as his new partner should make for a cool change in the exorcist dynamic, given she’s much quicker to jump to killing whoever needs to be killed as long as the demons are vanquished. That should play off Tomas’ relative pacifistic nature very well, unless he’s been changed by the experience with Andy. Mouse having been possessed herself and Tomas’ mental link with the demon here—opening him up to being possessed as well—should also give them a unique background to bond over. Since Tomas’ true desire was to see the demon die moreso than an eventual shot at the papacy, I wonder if Mouse will propel him along a more violent path or if she’ll recognize her own past eagerness to be an exorcist in him and council him against it. Either way, the two of them are going to have some very interesting discussions about a lot of things, including being mentored by Ben! And if Marcus has a new directive that’s different from anything we’ve seen from exorcists or the church, it should throw the three of them into an even more interesting dynamic. What if he shows up saying that demons possessing people is somehow part of God’s plan and they should stop exorcising demons altogether?

I really enjoyed the evil history of the island and the season’s shift to a self-contained demon after revisiting Captain Howdy (Robert Emmet Lunney) and Reagan MacNeil (Geena Davis) in Season 1 proved the series doesn’t need to rely on direct connections to The Exorcist to create compelling monsters. The demon forcing multiple parents to kill their children was scary, particularly played against a found family like this one, where the foster kids depended on Andy to keep them together. The series once again found a polished yet creepy aesthetic that didn’t avoid gore, but also never reveled in it. That worked very well to set the tone and setting things on a remote island gave the season a totally different feel than Season 1’s Chicago. Making everything more remote worked to establish classic horror tropes, but the season never felt derivative. If the show gets another season, I wonder where they’ll take it to create an entirely different feel this fall.

Like last season, I'm content with where the story ended with the priests and the Kim family, so if they end up not getting a third season, I would accept it. I like that it's mostly contained each year; focusing on a single family in danger makes for smart insurance against cancellation. It would be a shame to lose characters like Tomas, Marcus, and Mouse, though. Even if I’m not a fan of the papal conspiracy, seeing them grow with each new case and the threat of each new demon makes for a strong series arc for them. A message from God does seem like it holds more promise than whatever the demons are planning with the papacy, so it would be a shame to see this always solid show end here.

[startofamoment]

B99 Hiatus Writing Challenge

In the immortal words of Captain Raymond Jacob Holt, “EVERYTHING IS GARBAGE.” – The finale left our favorite squad in pain, we have to wait months for new content, and Dianetti still isn’t canon.

Even Terry knows what we need most in these trying times: fanfiction. 

Under the cut is a list of 30 prompts/summaries put together with a ton of help from @stardustsantiago, @peraltiagoisland, @scullysthumbtacks, @three-drink-amy​, and @dogworldchampion. Feel free to run away with any (or many) of these plot bunnies!! Let’s make this hiatus as gr99 as possible. ��

1. He’s still chuckling at her screaming sheep prank as he walks out of the break room. He’s four paces away when he turns back, ready to stick his tongue out at her and yell one last comeback. Except that’s when he sees it: the Double Tuck.

2. An emergency at the precinct calls Raymond away from home, leaving Kevin alone to babysit little Marcus for the rest of the day. Everything’s all well and good until pre-nap story time, when Kevin realizes he’s never met another child so emotional over Humpty Dumpty falling off a wall. He manages to calm little Marcus down by suggesting they make french toast with bacon smiles for dinner, but the child ends up sobbing at the sight of the refrigerator. (Alternatively: 4-year-old Marcus bonds with his Uncle Ray-Ray’s boyfriend.)

3. “GET THAT LITTLE DEMON AWAY FROM ME.” “Jake, he’s just a baby. Also, weren’t you the one who rented this fur ball for the night?” “I DIDN’T REALIZE I WAS PAYING FOR SHERE KHAN JUNIOR.”

The relief team takes over. Jake and Amy don’t catch the bad guys. The night still ends up on their good dates list.

4. Five hours. No texts or calls or selfies or anything from him for five hours. Amy should have realized it sooner. She should have believed he was being sabotaged. She shouldn’t have driven off after he said, “See you never.” 

5. “Which bird is that?” “It’s the shut the hell up or leave me alone bird.” “Is that its Latin name?”

Rosa Diaz is a graduate student at Cornell looking into going on sabbatical to study birds at the University of Buenos Aires. She’s pretty set in her plans, until she meets novice bird watcher Gina Linetti.

6. Jake is a disgruntled bookshop worker, just trying to save up to pay off his crushing debt. His life is a monotonous cycle of shipment unpacking, shelf restocking, and cashier manning until Amy comes in with a rare old book request, and they spend an entire afternoon searching the store for it. (Truthfully, he knows exactly where to find it, but he maybe doesn’t want his time with her to end.)

7. “Hey, it’s me. Please open the door... Come on, let’s talk. I’m sorry.” “Can I help you?” “Oh, no, you’re not Amy.”

After the most disastrous double date in history, Jake knocks on Amy’s door instead of Sophia’s.

8. Jake Peralta is one of the best wedding planners in Brooklyn. He can handle any wedding with his usual pizzazz and charm. Except for Amy Santiago’s.

9. “All aboard the Terryliner. Next stop, Holtsovania.” “Wait! Can we drop by the farmers market first?”

A perp Charles has been chasing for months surfaces out of the blue. Nikolaj is left at the precinct, and the rest of the squad take turns watching him.

10. He’d hated this song since his bar mitzvah ages ago, but suddenly, he couldn’t bring himself to keep hating it. Not when Amy’s hand was clasped in his. Not when she was close enough for him to see the lighter flecks in her eyes. Not when her smile had him falling deeper and deeper in love.

11. “Geez, Santiago, you didn’t have to pay $950 just for a second date with me! I didn’t realize you were so bummed our date last month was cut short by that case.”

The NYPD Men’s Charity Date Auction is coming up, and it’s Jake’s first time participating in the event. He’s been boasting about how excited he is to get free dinner and help out the local children’s hospital, but truthfully he’s scared out of his mind. (Rumor has it that the crazy 2nd floor receptionist from the Seven-Three was gonna drop at least $500 for a night with him.) He’s as stunned as the entire audience when Amy pulls through with a winning bid at the very last second.

12. Gina Linetti is stuck as assistant manager at the worst sunglass kiosk this side of Brooklyn. Her life changes when Rosa Diaz walks up and demands the darkest and shadiest pair they've got.

13. “Are you hearing that? What the hell is that noise?” “Do you mean all that thumping, yelling, and plates crashing?” “That plus the endless loop of Beyonce songs.” “Yeah, that’s Rosa and Gina having sex.” “WHAT? EW.” “Oh my god. Am I neighbors with a homophobe?”

Apartment neighbors Jake and Amy bond over the loud, crazy people on their floor.

14. I made a deal to save your life, and we can never be with each other ever again or else the person I made the deal with is going to kill one of us and make the other watch... I’m so sorry, it was the only way.

15. “So if I transferred anywhere else, you wouldn’t care at all?” “No, of course not. Do whatever you want, you know, it’s your life.”

He should have said something. Because now she’s gone to work for the Special Victims Unit, and he’s pretty sure she took a part of his soul with her.

16. Amy Santiago is about to have a traditional summer with her family, including her close friend Rosa, at Kellerman’s, a summer lodge she goes to every year. But then, she meets Jake Peralta, a talented dance instructor from the wrong side of the tracks. Will she have the time of her life? (Dirty Dancing!AU)

17. “Peralta, I swear to god, if you get blue soda in my car, I’ll kill you.” “Okay, but can I still eat my pocket donut, though?”

Jake and Amy go on a road trip, minus the complicated relationships but still with the poorly disguised feelings.

18. Midnight motorcycle races weren’t exactly Gina’s style, but the girl in the black leather jacket riding the supercharged R1 has her intrigued. She’s even more impressed when this rider turns up as a classical ballerina in their local dance competition.

19. “Ugh, Dad, The Enigma won’t leave me alone! Today she followed me around the entire playground.” “Now, Nikolaj, be nice to your cousin. She just loves you so much!”  

20. We’re partners for an essay project in History of Magic, and we need to get a book from the restricted section, but I’m not sure how the books are organized in this section, and you won’t stop trying to find weird sex books, like, no I don’t think they keep the wizard’s kama sutra in the restricted section, what is wrong with you? (Hogwarts!AU)

21. “Remember when you got arrested and had to go to jail for three months?” “Yeah, good times.”

The squad and their kids get together for a barbeque, now that they’re all happy.

22. Lieutenant Melanie Hawkins is the best cop in the NYPD for a reason. As they’re being transferred to Rikers, Jake and Rosa find out they’re actually being sent to further infiltrate a notorious drug cartel. And thus begins one of the biggest, most dangerous undercover operations in history.

23. “Detective David Majors is already on this case. I need someone to partner up with him.” “Sir, with all due respect, I’m the obvious choice. I mean, look at me.” “I’m not sure you’re right for this, Peralta. The marshal says the detectives have to go undercover as a couple, and I’m not sure the group to be infiltrated is quite so progressive… I think I’ll send in Santiago.”

Amy gets assigned to date Blotter Dynamite Dave Majors for an indefinite amount of time. Jake considers ruining the operation in the name of love. (Fake Dating!AU - except not with Jake)

24. She’s pale yet covered in bruises, and her movements are slower and more guarded. There’s nothing he wants to do more than just hold her, but from behind the glass separating the two of them, all he can do is ask, “What happened?” (Alternatively: Amy gets injured in the field while Jake is in jail.)

25. “Sir, how did you and Kevin get engaged?” “I don’t think this is much of a proposal story, Jacob. We heard gay marriage had been legalized and then headed straight for City Hall.”

It’s only half an hour into this stakeout, but to Jake it feels like it’s been an eternity. There’s a ring box burning a hole in his pocket, and a jumbled mess of ideas in his head. He knows Amy wouldn’t want him turning to anyone for approval, but the longer they sit in this car, the more inclined he is to ask Holt for advice.

26. I am Head Girl, and I’ve been asked to give a presentation on safe sexual practices, and you will not stop asking me uncomfortable questions to embarrass me. Please stop, I know you know the answer to that, we did it last night. (Hogwarts!AU)

27.  “What the hell, Gina! I thought this was supposed to be a Hip Hop class?” “Rosa, Rosa, Rosa. Did you seriously think I wanted a Step Up-esque number for the first dance out our wedding?” “Uhm. Yes?”

Gina tricks Rosa into taking a couples ballroom dance class with her.

28. A tragic car crash kills Terry and Sharon, leaving their baby daughter Ava to their mutual friends Jake and Amy, who don’t get along at all. (Life As We Know It!AU)

29. Jake and Amy manage to keep their relationship a secret, but that means Dozerman stays captain of the precinct.

30. “Just you and me, and Baby makes three.”

There’s a binder full of color coded information on the shelf, and a Die Hard-themed onesie in the dresser. Jake and Amy’s baby is on the way.

[ttevol-neb]

The Worst of Circumstances

I’m totally not breaking into your flat it’s just I got locked out of mine so I picked your lock and was going to use the fire escape to climb through my window - BENCUS AU

Chapter 4 - Unsatisfying Advice and Skills of Persuasion 

"So you think I should leave it, then?" Marcus clarifies, as tiny, eager hands grab onto his hair and tug, hard.

"Henry, don't pull." Ted admonishes his son softly before raising an unimpressed eyebrow. "Yes, I think you should leave it."

Marcus brings his fingers to the child's hand and unclenches his surprisingly strong little fist. He gingerly pulls it away with, thankfully, only a few thick strands of black hair included.

"Come on, buddy, sit properly." Marcus encourages, manhandling the toddlers body so he's sat on his lap, facing Ted. His father is currently cutting slices of cucumber and carrot on the other side of the kitchen counter and Henry seems to find tugging on Marcus' collar interesting enough for now - what is it with small children and pulling on things? - so Marcus looks back up at Ted. "Are you sure?"

Marcus has to admit that being told to let it be wasn't the response he was hoping for. Marcus thought  his best friend would show a little more excitement when he recounted the epic tale of the night before and the discovery of the man he's ninety-nine percent sure is his soul mate.

It'd only taken an hour for a locksmith to come out, and a further thirty minutes for his front door to be in full working order again. After an uncomfortable goodbye with Ben - Marcus had opted for a hug and Ben for a handshake, which resulted in Ben's hand getting awkwardly crushed in between their chests - Marcus had hightailed it to Ted's, in dire need of his ever present voice of reason. Marcus can't count the number of times Ted has talked him and Winston out of impulsive decisions that, on reflection, they shouldn't have needed to be talked out of in the first place.

"Marcus," Ted says, stepping around the identical little boy sat cross legged on the floor smashing transformers together, and pulling plastic plates down from an overhead cupboard. "You broke into this guys flat, scared the life out of him, drank his beer and ate his food, kissed him, found out he had a boyfriend, and then continued to come on to him. And you actually want to carry on pursuing it?"

Marcus grimaces. Well doesn't that just make him sound like a massive douchebag. Marcus isn't that detached, no matter how much evidence Ted has to the contrary.  He knows how bad his situation looks when you lay everything out, but it was different at the time. He really fucking likes this guy.

When Ben was looking up at him through his sinfully long lashes, all doe-eyed and demure, Marcus couldn't imagine doing anything besides letting himself fall a little and kissing him. And it's not like he would've pressed Ben to kiss him if Ben didn't want to. Frankly, he finds those that constantly pester people to get with them annoying and a little bit sickening. If Ben hadn't have been responding to him like he was, all quickened breathing and wide eyes, then Marcus would've left it. He knows a lost cause when he sees one and this is not one of those times.

There was just something a bit off about Oliver. Marcus probably doesn't have the most objective standing here, but he can't shake the feeling that he and Ben don't work together in that effortlessly smooth way that couples can. Especially with them being together for as long as they have. It isn't right.

And when Marcus was with him, all he could think about was that them meeting felt like it was written in the stars.

Ted's looking at him, the bastard, waiting for a reply, even though it's clear there isn't one that doesn't make it sound like he wants to terminate a strangers relationship for his own selfish gain. Damn Ted and his indisputable logic. Marcus resigns himself to that fact that he can't find the words to describe it without saying it really isn't as bad as it looks! which is a sure fire way to make him think it most definitely is as bad as it looks.

"Well it sounds bad when you put it like that." Marcus mumbles sullenly into the mop of blonde curls in front of him, frowning at Henry's little feet.

"That's because it is bad." Ted states, an amused smirk on his face, as he arranges the vegetables on the table with the rest of the food. "Honestly, I don't know how you can't see how pushy you are sometimes."

"But he's pretty." Marcus pouts, fully aware that his voice has climbed to that whiny pitch that makes him sound like a spoilt child. After both his mother and Winston pointed out it happened whenever he got frustrated, he decided to embrace it and use his pouting power to it's full potential. Sure enough, Ted's expression softens slightly, even mixes with something close to pity.    

"I'm sure there are plenty of other pretty guys out there who'll sleep with you."

"Not like him there isn't."

Ted pauses in setting the table and looks to Marcus for a moment, his tongue between his teeth. "Are you seriously going to break them up just so you can shag him?"

"No, no, it's more than that. He-", Marcus sighs. This is proving more difficult than he thought it would be. How can he articulate something he can't even put into thoughts in his own head? He knows the sudden want he feels for Ben isn't solely about sex, but he admits he'd be more than happy to fuck him and then take it from there. The difference, for what Marcus thinks is the first time in his life, is that he would look forward to the taking it from there part just as much as the fucking part. Just from that one night he knows there's something between them, something worth exploring. He knows he'll regret it if he doesn't. "It's hard to put into words, okay? It's more than just physical. Like... I don't know, I just wanna hang out with him, sit and listen to him talk or... whatever." Marcus tries to explain. "And I don't want to break them up, thank you very much, I just... don't exactly want them to be together either."

"Doesn't matter, does it?" Ted reinforces stubbornly, making sure the rose tinted glasses are fully yanked off Marcus' face.

Marcus run a hand through his hair. "You don't get it, Ted, you didn't see him."

"I don't think I have to, mate, the facts speak for themselves. He's with someone." Ted heads for the bottom of the stairs, none the wiser of the scowl aimed at his back, then yells, "Heather, lunch is ready!"

Henry fidgets in Marcus' lap until Marcus cottons on and lowers him enough that he can scramble to the ground and sit himself at the table, his brother not far behind.

"But he's perfect," Marcus complains, defeated. And to think he was so excited about this. "And in the flat right below mine. What're the chances?"

"Next to none," Ted acknowledges as he helps his sons dish food onto their plates, "Which is why he's unavailable."

"I can't just leave it, Ted, not now that I know he's there."

"He has a boyfriend." Ted reiterates.

Marcus huffs. "You're no fun, you know that?"

"Aw, come on." Ted protests, amusement still annoyingly present in his tone. "That's not true, is it boys? I'm fun, aren't I?"

"Yeah!" Henry yells, flicking sweetcorn off the end of his plastic fork in his excitement.

"Daddy plays monsters 'nd ev'ything!" Ryan assures adamantly, through a mouthful of chewed up crisps.

"See. Monsters and everything." Ted smiles, giving a definite nod. "And are you sure you want to get involved with him? I mean, he cheated on his boyfriend. I'm pretty sure that takes him out of the running to be the angel you think he is."

Marcus' stomach twists uneasily. He hadn't thought of that. Hateful as he is, Oliver does love Ben, that much is clear, and would be heartbroken if he ever found out.  

"Just remember that, okay?" Ted asks before turning to the stairs again. "Heather, come on! Before the munchkins eat it all!"

Approaching footsteps sound from the hallway and Marcus only just has time to brace himself before three feet of  happiness barrels into him, nearly knocking him over.

"Marcus!" Heather smiles toothily up at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle as he sways precariously backwards.

"Hey, princess!" Marcus greets, hoisting her up onto his hip. He has to heft her up again so she won't slide down his leg, and takes a moment to debate if she's got heavier or if he needs to work out more. He indicates to the messily folded piece of paper in her hand. "What's this, then?"

"It's my cake." She says proudly, unfolding it and holding it up in front of them.

"A cake? Why would you need a cake?"

Heather whacks his shoulder playfully, smiling through her gapped teeth. "You know why!"

"Hmm," Marcus wrinkles his brow and scrunches up his nose, feigning thought. "No, no, I don't think I do. What could you need a cake for? It's not like there's a special day coming up or anything."

"Marcus!" She squirms against his side, laughing. "Stop! You do remember!"

"Nope. I don't remember anything that would need a cake. Do you, Ted?"

Ted looks up from wiping snot from Ryan's nose, puzzled. "No, don't think I do."

"Dad! Stop it!" An edge of frustration comes in to her voice. "It's my birthday next week!"

"Oh! Right!" Marcus relents as Ted makes similar noises of realisation. "That's the big event! Remind me how old you're going to be again?"

"Seven!"

"Right, right. Well, it's a wonderful cake." He places her on the floor. "Go on, go eat."

Marcus watches as the kids chow down on their lunch, absently smiling at the love and contentment that he always feels when he's around Ted's family. The shit radiates off them. Lucky sods.

It's not long, Heather is only on the fourth round of describing the dress she's going to wear on her birthday, until Marcus' thoughts wind back around to Ben.

He's definitely less giddy about the whole ordeal than when he first arrived. Part of him wants to be mad at Ted for ruining his excitement, to shake him and say "Why can't you just be happy for me?!", but the rest of him knows he's only telling the truth. Ben has a boyfriend. It's as simple as that. He's not even playing the game, let alone up for grabs.

The problem, though, is that Marcus is finding it increasingly harder to ignore the squirming of his insides whenever he thinks about Ben. That it was difficult to tamper down in the first place probably isn't helping. Or that he thinks about Ben a lot.  

Dammit, Marcus can't just let this slide. There's something good and real and potentially amazing on the table here. Ben felt it too, that's why they kissed, Marcus knows it.

One last shot. Marcus will give Ted one last chance to show him a glimmer of a real reason to pursue this. That's all he needs, just the edge of a valid justification and he will take it and run.  

"You really think I should leave it?"

Ted sighs and digs the palms of his hands into his eyes.

"I mean, this guy could be the one and you want me to forget about him?"

"He's not the one. You spent one night with him. In different rooms, I might add."

Marcus grunts and folds his arms across his chest. "You're no help-"

"Just because I'm not telling you what you want to hear-"

"I should've gone to Winston."

"Why didn't you?" Ted squints at him, "It's not like he has a family to look after while his wife is away or anything."

Marcus slumps in his seat. "Because he's set me up on another date tomorrow, hasn't he? And if I talk to him about Ben he'll get all offended. You know what he's like."

"I don't know why you don't just tell him to stop, you know."

Marcus shrugs. "Makes him happy. And more often than not I get a decent blowjob out of it, at least."

Ted rolls his eyes and fights a losing battle with a grin. "That figures."

"I was thinking about bailing on this one, actually. Saying I'm ill or something."

"Because of your neighbour?" Ted asks, annoyance rising in his voice. "Are you kidding me? Marcus, you have no chance with him."

"You didn't see what he was like with me-"

"Did he, or did he not, explicitly ask you to leave it?"

Marcus sighs. Damn Ted all the way to hell for always making so much goddamn sense. "Well-"

"Answer the question."

"Yes, he did, but-"

"No. No buts. Go on this date, get your blowjob, and move on to the next one. Let the guy live his life in peace. I'm sure the last thing he needs is you, a stranger, bursting in to it and spouting all this crap about soul mates and perfection and the bloody one."

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"What's a blowjob?"

-*-

Marcus decides it would be rude to not at least thank Ben for letting him stay the night. And Oliver, of course, as well. His mother brought him up with proper manners after all, even if he does only remember them after breaking and entering.  Ah well, better late than never.

He decides to splash out on a fancy bottle of wine, which proves harder than he thought it would due to his somewhat limited wine-drinking knowledge. He's never strayed further than Tesco's own label, which he ordinarily buys with the goal of downing fast and getting shit faced, so it's not like he knows which ones actually taste nice. Beer and even liquor are more his forte. He must have looked well and truly befuddled whilst staring at the bottles in the supermarket aisle, as a nice young lady in a crisp white shirt and a shiny name tag comes over to offer her assistance. They decide on a bottle of Pinot Grigio that she promises him is "delicate yet sharp without being tart" to which Marcus nods and pretends he understands.  

After scaling two flights of stairs (the bloody lift is still broken) Marcus presses the doorbell of flat 2b and poses with the bottle of wine held beside his face, plastering on a cheesy grin, ready to be the picture of innocence and gratitude when Ben opens the door. There's no way he could turn that away. Not that Marcus thinks he would, what with them being friends and all, but he's just making sure.

Ben raises an eyebrow and leans against the door frame, unconcerned. "So you do know how to use a doorbell, then."  

Marcus sighs, drops his facade and the bottle of wine down to his side - goddamn this angelic bastard -  but a smile that seems to have a life of its own breaks out across his face, regardless. God, Ben really is beautiful, and he seems to be radiating the smell of butter and sugar and spice and all things nice to boot. That, coupled with his kind eyes, inevitably turns Marcus' insides into a molten mess, which is something he really should've been able to predict.  

"Would you prefer I send a carrier pigeon through the window to announce my arrival?" Marcus asks solemnly. "Or a marching band? Because that can be arranged. I know people."

Ben grins. "No, no. I just thought picking locks was more your style."

"You're never going to let me live that one down are you?"

"No way in hell." Ben chuckles. He leans his head back against the door frame, exposing the skin of his neck that is far too unblemished for Marcus' liking. Ben's eyes narrow. "And how would you get a marching band through my window, anyway? That sounds like a logistical nightmare. All those trumpets and french horns."

Marcus ignores, quite gallantly in his opinion, all the horn based innuendos that instantly pop into his head. "Well if you'd have let me finish attempting to get to my flat through it then I'd know, wouldn't I?"

"Nice." Ben nods, that adorable look of disbelief on his face again. "I like how you turned that one around on me."

Marcus shrugs indifferently. "I tell the truth."

"You can do no wrong, can you?"

"I'm practically Jesus."

"Right." Ben laughs. He straightens, and Marcus doesn't know if he imagines Ben's stupid eyes dart down to his lips - just for a millisecond - as he shifts his weight, or if Marcus' fucking feelings for this guy are making him see things that aren't there. Either way, Ben's voice is a lot softer when he speaks again and he's giving that wonderful little half smile that Marcus can't get out of his head. "Plain old doorbell it is."  

"Hmm," Marcus agrees, equally as gently. The warmth in his stomach bubbles mildly. "How boring."

They pause, simply looking at one another, content smiles on their faces. They seem to take each other in, acknowledge and appreciate the existence of the other, in the comfortable silence that lingers for a few moments. Marcus can feel his heart trying to tunnel its way out of his increasingly flushed chest.

Suddenly, he can't remember any of the conversation he had with Ted. He knows he made a decision to do something (whilst scrubbing quickly congealing rings of jam from Ted's kitchen table), but that thought has helpfully decided to be elusive right now. He definitely resolved to do something with this whole I fancy the pants off a taken guy debacle. Ultimately, Ted wasn't happy with him, that he can remember, so changes must be made. Or maybe he concluded to not do anything at all, now he thinks about it. All Marcus knows for certain is that the heat in his middle is creating smoke in his brain and if he's being honest with himself, all that really matters is the here and the now, in this doorway with Ben and his horribly unmarred skin.

Fuck what Ted thought. It probably wasn't important anyway. What could be more important than being right here, on this day, at this very moment?

Ben clears his throat and gives a minute shake of his head. Marcus wouldn't have picked up on it if his senses weren't so primed on him.

"So did you want something? Or are you delivering bottles of wine to everyone on the second floor?" Ben smiles easily. "Let me guess - It used to be water."

"Ah, no." Marcus smiles at the wine in his hand. If he looks at Ben smirking at his own joke for any longer he may just discover his inner vampire and lunge for his throat. "I'm not that good, I'm afraid. Marching bands through windows I can do, but water into wine? Haven't practised that one so much."

"Shame. Let me know when you perfect it."

Marcus holds the bottle out between them. "I got this for you."

Ben looks at it through narrowed eyes.

"You got me wine?" He asks slowly, apprehensively.

It takes a few seconds of them both staring incomprehensibly at the other, a vastly different kind of  stare than before, until the penny drops.

Ben thinks Marcus is making a move on him.

And, yes, okay, Marcus admits that, with how he was behaving before, it's not too ostentatious an assumption. And even if Ben did ask him to leave it just that morning, Marcus supposes it still wouldn't be so out of character for him to just press a little bit further, test the waters a tiny bit longer.

Despite all that, the way Ben is so suddenly on guard at the mere thought hurts. He's not so bad, is he? Taken or not, is it really that horrible to have him flirting?

With half of him feeling sorry for himself, and the other half worrying when he became so conscious of his flirting skills and other people's fucking opinions of them, Marcus can't help the small, self-deprecating laugh that slips between his lips. "Don't worry, sunshine.  It's for you and  your guy. To say thanks for letting me stay last night. And for not hitting me with your frying pan and calling the police."

The tension in Ben's shoulders visibly lessens as he smiles, which is as good as throwing a bucket of ice water onto Marcus' melted insides, solidifying them into heavy lead and bringing him back to reality.

"You know. Like friends do." Marcus can't help but add, biting back the urge to yell you kissed me back, dickhead!

"Yeah. Right. Friends." Ben replies, a little too brightly, and wraps his fingers around the neck of the bottle. "Thanks. That's great."

Marcus shrugs stiffly. "Least I can do."

Ben nods and looks to the label of the bottle, running his thumb over it and reading. The angle of his stooped head now means that Marcus can appreciate his small, straight nose and it's dusting of pale freckles in all their glory. He might as well be biting his lip and sighing like an infatuated teenager for how obvious his pining must be. Marcus also now notices how the ends of Ben's eyelashes, just where they attach themselves to his eyelids, are a gleaming golden blonde colour. Fuck, this guy must be  the son of a fucking God. And to think he'd been just one floor down for so long. All the times Ben could've been sat studying a recipe book with a cup of tea, or sweeping up crumbs from the kitchen floor - fresh from the batch of scones he just made, of course - or tutting at the loud music coming from one of Marcus' parties above him, and Marcus was completely non the wiser. It was a cruel trick of fate that decided they wouldn't cross paths before now.    

Fuck what Ted thought, fuck it all to hell. There's something here and Marcus'll be damned if he lets this slip through his fingers.

When an ambulance siren sounds outside and bounces off the plastered walls of the hallway, Marcus notices the silence they're in. The dead silence. The kind that you daren't so much as breathe in; the awkward type.

Oh, God. He's stood alone with Ben, and it's awkward.

They've been quiet for too long and Marcus is pretty sure he still has that dopey little fucking smile on his face that always seems to be there when he's in Ben's company. He shoves his hands in his pockets to stop them from fidgeting and drawing attention to himself.

Ben glances up, gives a little smile (which is just so Ben) and goes back to reading the label. This only makes Marcus more worried because there's no way that there's enough information on it to take this long to get through, which means Ben's re-reading it so that he doesn't have to actually say anything, meaning that they've run out of things to talk about and, Oh God, Ben thought he was making a move on him.

Marcus should've just left it. He should've taken last night for the one off that it was and gone on to plainly coexist with this wonderful man. He should've forgotten about repaying him, accepted it as a simple act of kindness from one neighbour to another, and sealed the most perfect kiss he's ever had between planes of glass to be kept in his memory for a rainy day or a lonely night.

Ben finally looks up and takes a deep breath, his eyes jumping back and forth between Marcus' as he looks to gear himself up to say something. His fingers have turned white where they're clutching onto the bottle and Marcus can feel his heart pounding in his ribcage.

Suddenly, Ben exhales and shakes his head at Marcus through a sheepish smile, blurting out "I'm sorry."

Marcus' eyebrows jump up. What?

"For what?"

Ben motions vaguely with the bottle. "I assumed you were... uh..."

"Flirting," Marcus fills in with an embarrassed chuckle of his own. Might as well get it out there. "No, I know, it's alright-"

"No, I shouldn't have thought-"

"It's fine, I get it-"

"It wasn't fair of me to-... I just assumed-"

"Ben, it's fine-"

"After this morning and everything-"

"Yeah, I know, don't worry about it-"

"I shouldn't have done that, really-"

"It's understandable-"

"Just with everything that's happened..."

"Yeah, I know-"

"And, I mean, I did ask you to leave it, so..."

"Yeah."

"I was just a bit unsure what you were doing there for a second, that's all."

"It's okay."

"Not that I think you would... uh, after I asked you not to-"

"I-"

"I know you'd never do that." Ben says confidently, almost sharply, stopping them rambling over one another.

He's looking up at Marcus like he really believes it, trusts that Marcus wouldn't go against his words. But his eyes are begging him, pleading with him to accept this, saying I'm sorry and please just leave this and I don't want to fall out here. He needs it to be true that Marcus won't push. And Marcus wants to. He really does want to leave it and be friends with this guy because surely it would be better to have him as a friend than not at all. Not to mention it's the right fucking thing to do.

However, there's still that stubborn little malicious section of his brain that won't allow himself to give Ben up. It's sitting on his shoulder and whispering in his ear, convincing him that he needs this, that things won't be okay if you let him be the one that got away and why are cutting you're own arm off, arsehole? That's bad for us.  

"Well," Marcus says lightly, almost under his breath like there's any chance he'll get away with it. "Never say never."

Ben's easy going look goes unmistakably strained, and his left cheek sucks in from where he must be biting it on the inside.

"In this case?" He says harshly, setting his shoulders and looking Marcus dead in the eye. "Never."

Ouch.

"You can think about it if you want." He mutters, sarcastic but hurt all the same.

"Marcus," Ben sighs, "I'm not going to have this conversation with you again, okay?"

Marcus looks to him and if he thought Ben's eyes were pleading before, they're nothing compared to how they look now, and Marcus is suddenly torn.

On the one hand, Ben looks so worried. No matter how much he's tried to cover it up with putting his foot down, the discomfort in his expression is obvious. Marcus feels something drop in his stomach at the sight of it. Part of Marcus' brain is saying stop, you've upset him, you wanker! Just leave it so he can smile again! It's making him want to do anything to get that distressed look off Ben's face, including turning on his heel, taking off down the hallway and never seeing him again.

Alternatively, that very same pleading look is telling Marcus that Ben knows there's something here to fight for. That he's trying to get Marcus to agree with what he says because he's trying to convince himself of it, too. If Marcus says he'll leave it, that they shouldn't be doing this, then Ben has no choice but to believe it. He also gets conformation that his relationship with Oliver is obviously a wonderful one. Why would Marcus want to come between them if it were? Consequently, he then has no reason to take the plunge and leave Oliver.

Then again, there's always the possibility that Marcus has interpreted everything completely wrong and Ben just wants him gone.

Bloody hell.

And so Marcus is torn, and simply stands there with his mouth hung open as Ben stares him down, all defiance and I'm not going to have this conversation with you again.    

When it becomes apparent that Marcus' powers of speech have abandoned him, Ben glances down the hall and exhales softly.

"Well," he says, turning back to Marcus, his demeanour back to bone-meltingly friendly as he holds up the wine bottle. Marcus wonders if Ben has ever read Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. "I should get this in the fridge."

"Right, yeah." Marcus manages to squeeze out.

"You could come in for a bit. If you want. I mean, Oliver's due home soon, but..."

Despite possibly having whiplash from the change in tone, Marcus feels his chest lift a little.

He should say no. Ben's just being polite, that's all. This is for him to refuse and be courteous, to respect Ben's wishes so they can both come out of it looking like decent people. But Ben's smiling again. And Marcus still has that unsatisfied feeling of having unfinished business clinging to him like poisoned ivy grows on a building.

"Sure."

If this wasn't the reply that Ben wanted, he doesn't show it. He just stands aside for Marcus to come through.

Ben's home is just as welcoming as before, perhaps more so with what look like recipe books and hand written notes spread out on the coffee table, and re-runs of That 70's Show playing on the small tv in the corner.

Marcus somehow feels out of place, big and bulky in amongst the warm flat. He feels like an intruder, and isn't that just fucking ironic. When breaking in, he felt very little remorse, but, now, when he's been invited in, saying he's uncomfortable doesn't do it justice. He's still caught in that quandary of knowing he shouldn't be here but wanting to stay with all his might, and his feet can't seem to stay still because of it.

As Ben makes his way to the fridge, Marcus watches and tries to work out what the fuck is happening. He needs to do something to get this twitchy feeling out of his bones. Where do they stand now? If he had actually wanted Marcus to leave he wouldn't have let him come in, surely, even out of politeness. He would've kicked him out on his arse. Is Ben actually giving the mixed messages Marcus thinks he is? Or is this all in his head?

It's then that Marcus realises he fucking hates subtext.

He might as well try and sort this out now. The tension and instability of it all will only torment him until he does. Patience has never even come close to being his middle name. And he knows Ben isn't as sure about this as he keeps saying.

He fucking hopes to God he's right.

"I'm confused." Marcus says.

Ben takes his hand off the handle on the fridge door and turns to him. His eyebrows have gone up his forehead and he looks intrigued, but that doesn't cover the underlying resistance that tells Marcus he knows what's going on here.

Deep breath.

"I'm confused because I don't know how you can just let this lie. There is something between us, Ben. Something... noticeable. That's the only way to put it. I don't know what it is, or how this might work out, or even if it's fucking worth it, but it's something. Something that could work. I'm sorry to do this again, I am, but... I can't just let that go."

Ben sighs and puts the bottle of wine down on the counter next to the fridge with a heavy thunk. Marcus carries on before Ben has a chance to cut in with arguments he's already heard.  

"I know that it's ludicrous, okay? I know that. But it's not everyday that I break into flats, you know." That gets a smile out of Ben, "But I did last night. And of all the people in London, it happened to be yours. On the night your boyfriend was still out. And you decided to let me stay." Marcus starts to take small steps closer to him, like someone trying to get close to a wild animal. "Who does that? Who lets a stranger that picks the lock on their front door kip on their sofa? That's crazy. But you did. You didn't even think of turning me away, did you?" When Ben only gives a small smile and rubs tense fingers over his forehead, Marcus prompts. "Did you?"

Ben leans back against the counter. Marcus hopes that was the fight draining out of him. "No, I didn't. You're my neighbour-"

"You didn't know that." Marcus continues. "I had no way to prove it. I could've been anyone. I could've pissed off with your most prized possessions in the middle of the night."

"Marcus, that's-"

"Don't stand there and tell me you can't feel it, that you didn't let me stay last night because there was something about me that you couldn't refuse." As he comes to stand in front of Ben, Marcus' stomach is in knots. This feels like the ballsiest thing he's ever done. "I don't wanna say it's fate, but..."

Ben's nerve breaks and his gaze slides to the floor. Marcus thinks that may be a good thing, that he doesn't want Marcus to see what he's thinking. He seems less tense than he was out in the hallway. Marcus hopes that's because of his words and not just because of the comfort of being inside his own home.

In a bold move, and because Marcus has always been an all or nothing kind of guy, he braces his left hand on the surface next to Ben's hip and gently takes Ben's chin between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. Now Marcus never thought he would be soppy enough to say things like "I saw galaxies in his eyes", but when Ben lets him tilt his chin so they're looking at each other, his breath is taken from him.

"Even right now." Marcus says softly, leaving only a small gap between their bodies. "Don't pretend you don't feel... something... between us, right now."

Ben's fingers are gripping tightly onto the side of the counter and his chest is rising and falling quickly but his eyes, oh god, his eyes are almost glowing, mirroring everything that Marcus is feeling. This is why Marcus can't let go. This look says I want you too. And even if he does look a little worried, the deer caught in headlights again, all that makes Marcus want to do is kiss all the concern away.

Fuck, Marcus wants him.

"I don't think I've ever clicked with someone like this." Marcus says as he softly runs his thumb along the edge of Ben's bottom lip and feels him give a little sigh against it. "We just... fit. Please don't fight it."

Gingerly, Marcus moves his hand from the edge of the counter and places it on Ben's hip. It fits just as perfectly as before. For all the trepidation in Ben's eyes, he doesn't push him away. He doesn't exactly move in to Marcus either, but he doesn't push him away, which has to count for something.

"Marcus, I...", Ben starts, but his words quickly die in his throat. After a tense moment, he gives a little breathless laugh instead. "God, I hate you."

Marcus smiles back and takes the tiniest of steps closer. "Yeah, I kind of hate me too, right now. But you know I'm right."

Gingerly, Ben's hand comes to rest on the forearm Marcus has against his hip. Marcus' heart does something close to a somersault.

Marcus dips his head, brushing his nose against Ben's cheek and letting their mouths hover in front of one another. It feels like there's a magnetic pull bringing them ever so slowly closer and closer together. Marcus much prefers this version of Ben, the soft, willing version that makes them feel like two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together. Not to mention that being this close to him but not actually kissing is, strangely, erotic as fuck.

Ben's eyes have fallen shut. Marcus can just see the ends of his eyelashes resting on his cheeks as he places their foreheads together. God, Marcus feels like he's burning up. Ben's grip tightens on his arm as he tilts his face up ever so slightly. Their lips must only be a millimetre apart now, and Marcus is sure Ben's pulse is thudding as fast as his own. He can almost taste it.

Three sudden, loud pounds on the door makes Ben's head snap up.

"Babe, it's me! I forgot my keys!"

Marcus' blood runs cold and he glares over his shoulder at the door. Bloody fucking Oliver! Marcus had him! Just a couple more blissful seconds and they would have been lip locked!

Ben quickly pushes past him, out of Marcus' embrace, and takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair and pulling on it. For the second time in two days, Marcus is left to rearrange himself as adrenaline rushes through him.

"Look," Ben says quickly and quietly, whipping around to face him, and with more venom than Marcus ever thought he was capable of, "I've already admitted that I feel something for you, okay, so I'm not going to do it again. But Marcus, and I need you to listen to me now, okay? I mean really listen. Whatever stupid little crushes we have somehow developed on one another, within less than twenty-four hours of knowing each other, don't even come into the question. Words can't describe how obsolete it is. It means nothing. Because I know that in the bigger picture I am meant to be with him," He points one sure finger at the door, "alright? I'm with him and I'm staying with him because he's my soul mate, and, yes, you're handsome and you're funny and you're interesting, but I love Oliver and I'm with Oliver and you can never be Oliver. Got it?"  

Marcus opens his mouth to protest but it feels like someone has their hands clasped tightly around his throat.

Oliver knocks on the door again. "Ben? You there?"

Ben takes one, deep, composing breath as Marcus blinks gormlessly at him. The world stands still. Marcus is pretty sure even the clock has stopped ticking by, holding its breath.  

Marcus wishes his brain hadn't seemed to have short-circuited, simply showing him the same error message over and over, so he could grab Ben by the shoulders and eloquently persuade him to pretend he's not in the flat so Oliver will go and find a cafe or something to occupy himself with. They still have more talking to do, this isn't how this is supposed to end. What he wouldn't give to click his fingers and transport Oliver far, far, far away. But Marcus' shell shocked body can conjure no words, and Ben's opening the front door before Marcus even has the chance to will the colour back into his face.

"If I had a penny for every time you forgot your keys, I'd be a very rich man." Ben smiles easily.

"Well hello to you to."

Marcus drags in a deep breath to try and will some feeling back into his body. He can only hope he doesn't look as dumbfounded as he feels as Oliver walks in and spots him.

"Back again?"

"Marcus was actually just about to leave." Ben supplies, "He brought a bottle of wine for us."

"Oh, that was nice of you." Oliver smiles at him.

Marcus feels a pressure build in his chest, getting the urge to snatch the bottle off the counter next to him and run out the door lest he does anything to give this suited oaf of a man something to be happy about.

"You were kind enough to help me out so..." He rushes, "Just something to say thanks."

His head is throbbing and he shoves his hands in his pockets so Oliver won't see how they're shaking. His throat is still absurdly tight and his chest feels like its cracking, caving in to him.

'I'm with Oliver and you can never be Oliver.'

Act normal, he thinks, just act normal.

"I'm more into beer myself but you seem like wine sort of people, so I hope it's okay."

"I'm sure it will be." Ben says, short and with an air of finality, though the smile on his face stays strongly where it is.

Marcus finds his eyes and sees the hard edge in them, the solid set to his jaw. He thinks that may have been his cue to go.

"Ben's a beer person, too." Oliver says.

"Oh, really?" Marcus smirks, although this bit of trivia seems bittersweet after all the words Ben just snarled at him. "Great minds think alike, ey?"

The suggestive tone goes (thankfully) over Oliver's oblivious head, but Ben's smile disappears instantly.  

Marcus decides that, yes, now is the time to take his leave before he steps over the line, if he miraculously hasn't already. Although of course there is a part of Marcus that wants one of them to slip up and for Oliver to cotton on to the sexual tension between his boyfriend and another man, he also doubts that Ben would appreciate that. He thinks he's probably so far into Ben's bad side at the moment that one more inch would lead him to fall over the edge and down into the abyss of never-to-be-spoken-to-again territory. That's the last thing he wants.

He says his goodbyes and, with one final, desperate pleading look to Ben, who looks steadily back at him, he steps out of the flat and into the corridor. The door is shut behind him with more force than he thinks is necessary.

With a weight in his chest and a frown on his face, Marcus heads for the stairs.