#one of those nights where my feelings are so moody i need to listen to nickelback and draw stuff like this

[latelylately]

[literaila]

Can we get a scene where reader and satoru get sent to the principals office? I think it would be so chaotic

“y/n,” satoru coos, poking at your cheek. “c’mon, i know you want to say something.”

you slap his hand away, refusing to look at him.

“you’re scowling, and your mouth keeps twitching,” your face hardens even more and satoru sighs. “just let it out. it’s just us, you know? no need to feel self conscious around little old me.”

you let his stupid arrogant voice ring out, crossing your arms.

your eyes are drooping, your neck is sore and you feel… furious, idiotic, nervous, and most of all—furious.

this is all gojo’s stupid fault, with his stupid ideas, his stupid sunglasses, and his stupid gps.

seriously, how dumb can one person be?

you’ve gotten in trouble with him before—for bickering during training, or stealing his snacks, or being late for dinner because someone forgot how to tie his shoes—but it’s never been this bad.

yaga’s never had to step out of the classroom for so long to… what? avoid a heart attack? keep his head from exploding?

so if you’re ignoring satoru and secretly plotting his demise, who can blame you?

if nanami were here, he would approve.

gojo groans. “just say something,” he pleads. “i hate the silent treatment. i might die. do you want me to die?”

and maybe it’s his tone of voice, or the innocence he’s showboating, or his mental incompetence, but you break.

“go to hell,” you hiss, still staring at the chalk board.

damn it.

he grins at you, pulling on the sleeve of your shirt. “that’s not very friendly,” he tells you. “what would haibara say?”

maybe you can’t look at him because his face is another one of your breaking points. if only yaga was as susceptible to his grin as you.

“he would tell you to stop antagonizing me,” you slump down in your seat, feet tapping against the floor anxiously.

“what? i wouldn’t do that to my favorite underclassman.”

“this is all your fault.”

satoru snorts. “i cant even drive,” he argues. “and you’re the one who made the key.”

“only because i was listening to you! you told me no one would even notice.”

“i don’t recall.”

“‘c’mon, y/n,’” you mock, “‘it’ll be fine. everyone’s sleeping. don’t you wanna go for a joyride?’”

“who is that supposed to be?”

“i can’t believe you.”

satoru sighs. “how is this my fault? you’re the one who couldn’t sleep.”

you finally turn to him, eyes sharper than daggers. his smile can go to hell too.

“i hope you’ve enjoyed your life so far because it’s going to be over as soon as we get out of here.”

“go ahead and try, sweetheart.”

“i will kill you—“

satoru shakes his head. then he holds his hands up in defense. “you try and help a friend,” he says, so pitifully. “you try to be nice and instead of thank you, you get threatened.”

you lean towards him unconsciously. everything about satoru is a antithesis to evolution, to karma. “you want me to thank you for getting me potentially expelled?”

he laughs. “you’re worried about yaga? that pushover? when me and suguru broke that wall he just told us that curfew was an hour earlier.”

“well we didn’t break a wall, you dimwit! we stole a car!”

satoru taps at the table, snorting. “dimwit? that’s what you came up with?”

“it’s four in the morning!”

“is that why you’re so moody?”

“i am not moody,” you kick at his leg. “you’re just annoying.”

if nothing else, at least the bickering is a nice distraction from the actual crisis at hand.

in a couple of days you’ll probably appreciate this moment for what it is. appreciate gojo for caring about your insomnia and pulling you away from your hell of a world for at least a couple of hours.

you’ll recognize him for what he is. you’ll remember that the only reason you agreed to a late night drive with him is because of those eyes, because he smiled at you when he asked and—

you’ll look back at this fondly someday.

but for right now you would like to blame gojo for everything and punch him in his stupid face.

he nudges you back. “you’re freaking out about this for no reason.”

“we’re locked in a classroom waiting for yaga’s verdict,” you grind out, “he dragged you in by your ear.”

gojo waves a hand. he leans back in the chair, hands behind his head. “he’ll yell at us for an hour and then make us clean the common room.”

“i saw a vein on his forehead.”

“that’s always been there.”

you sigh and close your eyes. “i’m going to be homeless. i’m gonna be kicked out and i’ll have to work at a gas station for the rest of my life and i’ll probably be fired and i’ll never amount to anything.”

satoru laughs.

you whine, laying across the desk. “i’m never going to see shoko again.”

“i’m sure she’ll visit you at the gas station. you know how much she smokes.”

you make a face. “i’ll have to find some old rich guy to marry.”

“just marry me instead,” satoru suggests, easily.

you give him a blank stare. “you’re already dead in this scenario.”

he yawns, looking around. then he turns back to you. “are you really only going to miss shoko? what about me?”

“i’ll go to your funeral, i guess.”

satoru pouts. “i was helping you! i’m older and wiser. just trust me on this.”

“i trusted you when you said there was no way for yaga to find out.”

“okay…” satoru licks his lips. “so i make one mistake.”

you glare at him. “one?”

he grins. “at least if we get expelled, we’ll be expelled together.”

“are you kidding? me and one of the three special grade sorcerers? you’ll get a slap on the wrist.”

satoru contemplates this for a moment, and you suddenly realize that he looks.. tired. did he stay up just to entertain you? should you feel bad for getting him in trouble because he wanted to make you feel better? should you care about him at all?

he taps at his chin, another smile breaking his face. “you bring up a good point. i’ll just threaten yaga if he tries to kick you out.”

you groan, rubbing your eyes, deciding you don’t care if he’s tired or not. “i genuinely don’t know how you’ve survived this long.”

“well, it’s—“

and then the classroom door opens.

both of you sit up—because despite whatever satoru might say, you know he’s just feigning nonchalance. if anything, he’s at least dreading a lecture.

its just instinctual when you open your mouth, really.

“it’s all gojo’s fault—“

“she’s the one who crashed the car—“

you both turn to each other simultaneously, words clashing into one another.

satoru frowns and you point a finger at him. “it’s called parking you asshole—“

and, okay. maybe its a little bit your fault.

[barcalover86]

loved your jealous gavi fic .

Could we get a angry bird gavi fic where his always moody but reader knows how to deal with it 🥺

Thank youu!

Masterlist

Pablo was always in no mood when he would lose a game, knowing that it was somehow his fault after all, which often that wasn't the case.

You learned that your boyfriend needs time to calm down and then you can go talk to him.

The truth is that he isn't calming down before he touches you in some way. Holding your hand, feeling your fingers playing with his..

You had some type of magic in you. Your eyes could make him get lost, and your voice would make him stop everything he is doing to listen to you.

Now, it was one of those days when he was really moody. It wasn't really because he lost the game, but also because some players would have told him something that really bothered him.

You didn't live in the same place, but decided to go to his after Lewa called you to tell you that your boy is not feeling too well. You wanted to make him feel better and stopped somewhere to buy some food for both of you.

You were standing at his house in Barcelona with food in one hand, and in the other a picture of him with a pen.

It was really late, and you texted Gavi right before the match that you are going to sleep earlier because you have some things to do tomorrow morning. He saw the text and only decided to say back one good night, hoping to see you soon.

You managed to knock on the door with all your things in your hands, and after 3 or 4 minutes, you saw your boy with a tired and sleepy face opening the door.

When he saw you standing right there, he immediately smiled and took the food from your hands.

"Holaa!" you said childish.

"Amorrr" he said after putting the food down and going for a hug.

"If my favorite player isn't too tired right now, could he sign me something?"

When he saw the picture of him and the pen from your hand, he chuckled.

"Ayyy, for sure, cariño, but come in first."

You laughed and came into his house. Now, that you could see him better, he wasn't tired anymore. His eyes were sparkling. He was only wearing some shorts and when he hugged you again, your cold hands on his warm body made him shiver a bit.

"Lo siento!" you chuckled.

He kissed you and then he started to ask a lot of questions. "How did you get here?" or "Why are you here?" or " Are you cold?" and a lot more. You answered him honestly and then sat at his table to eat the food you bought.

"You still didn't sign my picture!"

He immediately took it in his hands and signed it before he went to you to kiss you all over your face to sign you too.

You were laughing hard. He was always like this when he saw you after a bad game, and you were thankful that he wasn't that type of boyfriend who was letting his anger on you.

"So, why were you moody with your teammates, cariño?"

He sighed and explained all to you. How did he behave to his teammates, and how did he get angry because of some player. He blamed himself again for the loss, saying that he didn't play like he wanted tonight.

You explained to him that your teammates are as sad as he is, and having a bad behaviour with them wasn't going to make things better, but even worse. You told him that some games are better and some are the opposite, because even the best one have to lose sometimes to not get bored of just winning.

At that, he slowly laughed and promised to you that tomorrow when they had training, to go and apologise to his friends.

After you ate, you went to sleep because you knew how tired Pablo was. You cuddled, and the next morning, you two had to go to your daily tasks.

He went to training and apologised like he promised before being teased by his teammates that you are the only one who can calm him down. He was really thankful for having you in his life and smiled proudly that you were his and he was yours.

I don't know if this is exactly how you wanted, but I hope that you liked it.

[mapofsouthdakota]

Maps rambles - Caleb’s myth - episode 1

My first two cents on the matter to the void aka “How I lost my mind over a fictional man’s myth card”

🎨 The color palette

Let me just start with this because I’m an unapologetic art freak—how orange and purple as a color combo is actually insane (in the best way)? From Itten’s color theory perspective, they’re both secondary colors, which means they don’t naturally “belong” together… and yet when you pair them? Instant drama. High contrast. Visual tension.

It’s literally the Caleb energy palette.

This part is important because it ties into something I go into more detail about later in the spoiler section.

Bonus: when you mix orange and purple, you get this lovely burnt sienna. You can literally see those warm, moody notes in the artwork for the event banner. All dramatic like a walking sunset with feelings. Peak aesthetic. Peak emotional damage. 10/10 color story.

I’m over here channeling my inner Raf, whispering “it’s so beautiful”. My high school days were good days

🚨MYTH SPOILERS AHEAD 🚨

🏃‍♂️‍➡️🏃‍♀️‍➡️The first escape

The first thing you see together? Summer.

And not just the season—the whole feeling of it. Sunlight you can almost taste.

Caleb means “faithful,” which, sure, fits now that you know Caleb. But that’s not really what you picked in that moment, you choose Xia Yizhou (夏以昼). Which means summer. You chose it because you felt warmth. Brightness. You felt his name.

(Also, he probably said summer in the actual Chinese version—and that’s why you ended up choosing it. But ahhh, I just love rambling about the impeccable attention to details that we have been served.)

And okay—this is a tiny nod to my own fanfics—but I’ve always imagined Caleb loves his name in this almost eerie way. It’s special to him. Sacred, even. That’s why I snuck those moments into chapters 4 and 8 of The Maze. He wants you to say it. Say his name. Say it again. And again and again and again. (Okay but I might have a BDSM fic marinating in my drafts where he makes you say his name like… a gazillion times. For reasons.)

🫰The pinky promise

Don’t even get me started—I need to go back and replay Borrowed Promise because those two dorks are pining me so hard.

🙉 The face cupping

You saw that, right? The way hands cradled his face? The same way we saw it happen in Hidden Waves. Don’t play with me.

👨‍🍳 The cooking/tasting

I’m not okay. The tasting. The way he makes you experience every flavor—sweet, salty, bitter. How Infold has woven this into his character in the current timeline? Eternal. Awe. He’s still making you feel, sense. Teaching you how to savor everything good.

Let me just remind us all of that one café interaction. Where he says he wants to try apple juice in his coffee. Like—what even is that? Who does that? And then we can actually answer him, dead serious, “try adding a squeeze of lemon.”

No wonder! Caleb has literally taught you everything you know about taste in this myth—and he just keeps doing it in the current timeline like it’s his full-time job. Caleb’s out here crafting a five-course sensation education in the name of love. Sir.

🪁 The paper folding

Caleb’s gift in the café—a paper plane. Like. Come on. We are out here folding origami for eternity at this point. That’s it. That’s the whole love language. Silent, delicate passion disguised as craft. I’m going to scream.

🏠The loneliness and home

Watching him through the mirror. Hearing him speak when he thinks no one’s listening. “Goodnight, my one and only,” he says. Every. Single. Night. I thought Infold would stop stabbing me in the heart after that. Nope.

Then there’s the loneliness vs being home thing. Being home together. Finding home together. Home being together with Caleb. Caleb being home together with you. He’s your home, and you are his.

Another nod to one of my own fics—Drenched Homecoming (yes, I’m referencing myself like the madwoman I am). But seriously, these two have their own definition of what “home” means, and it’s so gosh darn cute and freakish I might combust.

It. Does. Not. End. Why are they like this? They’re literally not meant to fit (like the color palette)—and yet they do. So perfectly it hurts.

🍎The gege trope

I don’t speak Chinese and my Japanese is a mess, but after obsessing over Caleb for the past 65ish days straight, I have to say this:

If they used “gege” in Chinese or “oniisan” in Japanese, then that one line—“What does the word friend mean to you?”—just hits different.

It’s not about the actual definitions of gege or oniisan. It’s about your own meaning of “friend/brother”. One word you’ve assigned to Caleb after he stated that he was your “friend/brother”. The word “friend/brother” becomes sacred—not because of language, but because of him. Aka the attributes you assign Caleb.

💥 The ending

I’m just gonna drop this here.

I analyzed one of Caleb’s tattoo’s from the Tomorrow’s Catch 22 banner. I found some interesting stuff about the B12 bomb (an apocalyptic event but with the potential for rebirth) and B12 in alchemical traditions (key to spiritual or physical transformation). Seer confirmed.

❓The big question

Is Caleb remembering all of this? And like Sylus (but in his own quiet way), is he trying to help you remember too? His name. The face-touching. The paper plane. The amusement park. Feeling your pain in another timeline. Never being apart.

Infold has gifted us the most delicious easter egg and you better believe I’m cracking that thing open before actual Easter.

On that note: Can we please please please get a Nightly Rendezvous rerun, but this time with Caleb added? I’m begging. I need a robe slightly slipping off his shoulder in low lighting, preferably on the surface of a moon.

Alright, time for a walk with my dog. What a day. If you feel like diving into the chaos that is Caleb’s myth broken down by yours truly, don’t be shy. I fully welcome any and all discussion. I’ll replay it tomorrow for sure, then finish the The Bear AU pilot yaay

I remain,

Maps 🫶🏻

[indigosunsetao3]

On this episode of things no one tells you that happen when you get to your thirties.

Tw: period, hormones, hormonal birth control, therapy, medical stuff, mental health stuff

This is purely my experience as a female in my mid-thirties. I am not trying to sway people one way or another. I’m not giving medical advice. I’m just sharing what happened to me because things like this aren’t talked about enough. And someone else may be going through this.

I had been on birth control since I was fourteen. I’m from the generation of “cramps?” Birth control. “moody?” Birth control. “Acne?” Birth control. “No issues at all but you’ve got a period?” Birth control. Basically anything ‘wrong’ with a teenage girl just give them birth control and they’ll hush up about it.

I never came off it until I was 33. Thirty. Three. Almost twenty years on the medication without a single break. Just changing from one brand or another as I got older. I was told I needed it, I had to have it. The doctors put fear into me of getting off it. Aside from getting pregnant being a risk (I don’t want kids, never have so this was a legit scary risk for me) they talked about so many other side effects. Like a heavy period that wouldn’t stop. Cysts (I have those anyway). Hair loss. I listened and I stayed on it.

Until I couldn’t anymore.

I came close to a mental break in 2021. I was having panic attacks, hair falling out in clumps, couldn’t eat, what I did eat I threw up. I had multiple tests done by all sorts of different doctors but everything was ‘normal’ and maybe I should think about losing some weight. Yet, not once was I asked about birth control or have my hormones tested. Birth control is just a standard for people my age I guess, no need to talk about it. Medical care for AFAB is fabulous.

All of this kept spiraling and getting worse thanks to my health anxiety. I was fairly certain I was dying, and that is not an exaggeration. My life was consumed with reading about illnesses, signs, symptoms, tests to take, specialists to see etc. I would take my blood pressure, temperature, pulse, blood oxygen level and count the hairs I lost multiple times a day. Then write it all down to obsess over and try to compare to see a pattern. Sure this would help me figure out what was happening. Not realizing it was making it ten times worse.

My husband was terrified for me and we had a very long conversation where he begged me to talk to someone.

So I started therapy.

And boy did that unlock a lot of stuff we don’t need to get into. And for a bit while working through things it got worse before it got better. But. By happy circumstance my therapist had a background in the medical field. Specifically hormones. Super specifically aided in the study of hormonal birth control on woman who had been on it long term. And one night birth control came up in conversation and we went down a rabbit hole.

Over a few weeks we worked together to get me off of it. To try and see if maybe stopping it would help. See if maybe my hormones were unbalanced as I got older and the hormones in the birth control were making it worse. We figured out safe sex practices (I’m monogamous and so is my husband…but the whole we don’t want kids thing). And after careful planning and consulting another doctor, I got off my birth control.

And when I say it was a whole new world after just six weeks I am not lying. Or exaggerating. My life completely changed.

The panic attacks stopped. I didn’t feel sick all the time. I could pull myself from my spiraling much faster and easier. The scary thoughts on a loop in my mind quieted from a constant shout, to an inside voice, to a whisper. Three months in my hair started coming back and not shedding. Six months I was enjoying food again and not force feeding myself because I felt sick eating it but I had to eat. A year later I got back into all my old hobbies, including reading which progressed to writing again.

My body still isn’t back to ‘normal’. I miss periods. I have extra long periods. I’m moody as fuck leading up to and on it. The fatigue is no joke. I get acne on my chin and back. Cramps can make me double over sometimes. The flow is heavy. I’ll get headaches that make my eyes feel like they’re being squeezed in a vice.

I never had any of this while on birth control. Twenty years with a period and I had no idea how my body actually worked on a period. What was my normal.

I’ve had to call my friend in a panic when I was bleeding heavy to have her assure me I was not dying. Or commiserate over the fucking breast pain (like wtf is this shit?). Or ask if it was normal to feel so exhausted you can’t move from the couch.

I still have anxiety. I am diagnosed with OCD, PTSD, Hypochondria and General Anxiety. I still deal with these issues every day, and I have bad days and worse days. But I also feel so much better.

And I am also well aware many people do need/want hormonal birth control. Some people need it to survive and function. Some people feel better with it than without it. Some people it works better for. Some people just want it. Any and all reasons are completely real and valid. I’m not bashing or judging people for taking it. I’m not saying birth control is evil, or bad. I’m not saying anyone needs to stop it or stopping it is a fix for everyone’s problems. This was just…my experience and it all started when I was about 30/31.

Anyway. I’m currently on said period, I’m exhausted and feeling very emotional and just…I wanted to share this in case the off chance it can help someone.

You aren’t alone.

And if I offended anyone with my own personal experience…sorry?

[definegodliness]

That One wish, come True.

That One wish — my own

Miracle Wish,

I dreamt, and kept For a couple of waking minutes.

A nightly Gift; a memory Of kinder, softer, and more Self-evident Days.

No two beings could be Purer than we, in all our loving.

And I have begged To go back To that time when I was simply with you, My one wish, come true.

--- 21-7-2023, M.A. Tempels ©

I uncharacteristically woke up an hour before the alarm, and reveled in that long forgotten feeling of belonging; loving in simply existing. Being love, therein. Half-awake, not conscious enough to be bothered by reality, yet conscious enough to cling onto visions and weave with the fabric of dreams. All the while, a song played in the back of my head. Something soothing. A pick-me-up, ethereal. When I finally got up, I intended to chase that song. Knowing how swiftly the feeling — pure love — would be lost in the chaos of day. Within the minute of getting back on my feet, really. But that song, I could still find, and, maybe, thereby, re-experience a fracture of last night. Downstairs, people were already busily preparing for the humdrum of their day. And I tried to stay with them, half-there, where I was needed, and half in the dream. I kept that up until I could manage a little retreat. Outside. I didn't know for sure, but the song reminded me of Moody Blues. I did know for sure I'd recognize the song by its first notes. And with two attempts, I found it. The video I picked, contained the lyrics, and I sat there, reading and listening to Tuesday Afternoon:

I'm just beginning to see Now I'm on my way It doesn't matter to me Chasing the clouds away Something calls to me The trees are drawing me near I've got to find out why Those gentle voices I hear Explain it all with a sigh

I'm looking at myself reflections of my mind It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind So gently swaying through the fairyland of love If you'll just come with me you'll see the beauty of Tuesday afternoon

At the end of the song, I saw two seedlings floating. Clung together, and whirling in the wind. Pristine white. Soft and kind. Together. I followed them for a little while, mesmerised, and struck by a profound sense of belonging within this universe. I followed them, till they landed in the garden.

The song had ended. And I snapped a quick video. Sometimes, rarely, everything falls into place, and the world makes incredible sense. Then, life is beautiful.

This is to commemorate that moment.

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

So you want to listen to 9GOATS BLACK OUT?

...and you don't know where to start? Well I got you. I like talking about my favorite bands and I love recommending music.

So, I won't go into details about the band, you can look that part up. All you need to know, imo is that it's unfortunately disbanded. Why you need to know that? Cause some people don't like listening to bands that are no longer active. Another thing you might wonder is if the members are still active. Well Ryo (bunch of projects, HOLLOWGRAM, DALLE, etc.) and Uta (Sukekiyo) are. Hati isn't, I've looked it up and...as far as the rest of members, who weren't showing up much in photoshoots are concerned, I unfortunately don't know. The fact they were sometimes in sometimes out discouraged me from looking further into them or following their activities BUT I'm sure you can find something about them on vkgy (if you haven't tried that site, do so, it's an amazing archive of vkei bands). Anyway, let's get to the music.

[side note: Some fans might disagree with my choices or think I should add 1-2 more songs, but this is just an opinion. If you wish to make a list of your own go ahead, every person has different criteria on what feels easier to listen to first, or showcases a band's colors best.]

Sink is the first song that got me into the band and I would hands down recommend it to anyone wanting to give this band a try. It's a common starter for many fans as well, as I learnt years later so yeah. If you like moody stuff with a melody that takes you places, you will like this one.

If my 18-19 year old self saw me suggesting this song, she would goggle her eyes at me. The reason I'm suggesting this is because it was one of their songs I didn't like at all for years, however, whenever I accidentally came across it, the melody stuck to me FOR DAYS. This is one of their catchiest tunes in my eyes. You don't understand, when I don't like a song I almost never come back. I was bewitched to like this song xD. If you are like me, you probably won't like it on the first try, but give it a few listens and you might change your mind. ;)

This is another song I see many 9goats fans enjoy and I think it's easy to listen, too. I love it personally and I also love the pv cause I get to clearly see everyone! Up until their last pv's release, Uta and Hati, even though they showed up in photoshoots, they weren't often visible in pvs for long, if at all. They both have amazing aesthetic, beyond their music artistry, they can give you strong visuals if you ask them to, but they both were more focused on sound and I think, in Uta's case that is obvious even now that he is with Sukekiyo. They wanted their music to be the center of attention it appears and that's ok, but to me it was a bit sad they didn't let us see them in pvs more too.

I say that a lot, if you know me and we've spoken about this band before, but I consider them the closest thing I have ever felt like calling “black magic in music form”, but in a novel way. This song is a good indication why. Also this song showcases everybody's talent. Ryo's haunting voice, Uta's screaming guitar, and Hati's calm bass carrying everything else from the back and making the sound move like waves in the sea, slow at first and then speeding up and back to slow again. The drums are powerful here as well, the melodic piano, creating such a soaring feeling with everything else, it's just ugh.

This is one of those songs that feels like it's from a videogame to me. Or a movie, if you aren't a videogame person. It's mysterious, like following a character around during the night. It's quite haunting too. The way the music trails off at places especially....goodness gracious. The distortions, the melody just...try it try it. Very cinematic.

You might need more time with the band before you try this one, but it's really good. The way the drums enter after the guitar and Ryo's first lyrics grasps my heart. It makes me shiver every single time, chills, chills, chills across the board. If you have a woofer at home, please use it. Let it shake your room, feel it. And if you have earphones or headphones, choose headphones at least once. I don't know how effective this song is on others, but they can't have added so much ahm...how do you call that, underground sound I guess, unless they wanted people to feel the instruments vibrate underneath you (not that way, ye nasties, like an earthquake I mean).

I hope you find sth you like, if not, it's ok, we all like different things, but yeah, this was my attempt to entice more people listen to one of my favorite bands, 9GOATS BLACK OUT.

[anemoiawithatouchofobsession]

I was just thinking about how I would shuffle around Lee Jiyeon's discography to make her albums more cohesive because

a) the first album has wayyyy too many ballads for her to be a pop girl, espcially since 난 사랑을... is the smash hit of that album. It has the feelings of this really innocent, pure and raw feelings of first love

b) same to the second one but at least a few ballads are good, it needed way more variation.

c) the third album is pefectly balanced but should have come out as her debut album given the cute and energetic concept

d) her 4th album LITERALLY has a song run of CITY POP GOLD and yet she didn't release ANY of those as singles. Plus I feel like it was more of a "new direction" than an album of closure.

So idk here goes (I'll try and keep the singles/promoted songs in their respective albums)

1st Album : Maybe You Were Young

Maybe You Were Young

That Reason Was Pain To Me

Tearful Letter

I Don't Know Love Yet

I Don't Know My Heart Either

You're So Moody

One World, One You

Sad Love Left

Maybe You Were Young (instrumental)

Our Wish (lmaooo the propagaganda song)

2nd Album

Graduation

Candlelight Sonata

Wind, Please Stop Blowing

Don't Tell Me You Love Me

However

After That

Sad Goodbye

Love Is

Figure In The Mist

Graduation (Instrumental)

3rd Album

It's Not Too Late

Clumsy Farewell

Tomorow Will Be Brighter

Only A Cold Smile

Love For Night

You

A Thousand Dances

In Eternal Time

Last Leaf

It's Not Too Late (Instrumental)

4th Album

Love Is A Miracle

The Little Mermaid And Us

Exhibition Where Nobody Comes

Our Love

Tears Falling On My Cheeks

Life Is Just Once

Long Time Out

When The First Snow Falls

Life Is Just Once (Instrumental)

Maybe You Were Young (Instrumental)

You can listen to her rearranged discography in this playlist! Lmao this took too long lmfaooo

[mydaroga]

Chicago Fest for Beatles Fans 2023

I've always loved connecting with people who share my passions. For me, cons aren't about meeting celebrities or room parties, though those are both fine. For me, it's about meeting people whose eyes don't glaze over after thirty seconds of your special interest. So when I began my deep dive into Beatlemania, I wanted to find people who really wanted to chat. (Some of you have witnessed these efforts here, to varying degrees of success.) So I googled "Beatles conventions" and, on a whim, bought a ticket to the Fest for Beatles Fans in Chicago, partly because I had someone to stay with (over an hour away, but still) and didn't need to shell out for a room.

If my goal was to engineer a feeling like, say, my best one on one convos here, or the Meta the Beatles discord, or old school livejournal, or the K/S cons, it was only marginally successful. Still, I think it was a positive experience and I am considering attempting to afford the next one in February at the utterly stunning remodeled TWA hotel.

The Fest, which used to be called BeatleFest until Apple Corps intervened in 1997, has been ongoing since 1974 when founder Mark Lapidos asked John Lennon if he was cool with the idea of a Beatles convention. You can see various guests over the years here, so clearly it's a known quantity in Beatledom. Many people there this weekend have been attending since the beginning, and it's an annual (or bi-annual) tradition.

It differs from other fan cons I've been to in that the focus is largely on music itself. This is natural, but what I mean is, there is constantly at least one musical act playing Beatles music in some form. On the main stage and breakout rooms you also have guests: Pattie Boyd, Gregg Bissonette (Ringo's current drummer), Billy J Kramer, Terry Sylvester (the Hollies), Joey Molland (Badfinger), Jay Bergen (John's lawyer), Allan Kozinn (The McCartney Legacy), Bruce Spizer (various books about the recordings), Kenneth Womack (upcoming Mal Evans book!), Susan Ryan (long time Fest fixture and historian), Skylar Moody (Beatles TikTok), Jude Kessler (The John Lennon series), Sara Schmidt (Meet the Beatles for Real), Steve Matteo (Act Naturally: the Beatles on Film). There are dealers with vintage and current merch and memorabilia, a "museum" room with historic merch, old clippings, an "ashram" where you can attend various meditation and yoga sessions, a karaoke room, costume and talent contests, even a Beatles Rock Band setup I failed to attend despite my yearning to one day play it.

Some of the panels were pretty sparsely attended, and there was a strong feeling that a lot of people go to listen to the bands and stay up all night. But what that meant for those of us who were there to talk and make connections was, I got to talk and make a ton of connections. I met Sara Schmidt and her mother and they took me under their wing and introduced me to anyone who was anyone. I had a lovely chat with Ken Womack. Wally Podrazik insisted on taking a photo of my Nerk Twins shirt and demanded I email him. I spoke to Allan Kozinn about how a John boy comes to write the most comprehensive Paul biography ever. I met a lady named Tina who is going to hook me up with info about early slash and RPF fic (because I've heard several of you youngin's declare it's a relatively new phenomenon and I know it isn't!). I danced to a great cover band while looking like Twiggy. I had a lot of comments about my Stamp Out the Beatles shirt. I spoke to Steve Matteo about his book about the Beatles on film, and shared my own film work in which he took an avid interest.

All in all, it never got as in depth as you can with good fandom friends in a quiet setting. I've also heard that attendance and quality have gone down in recent years, and changes have been implemented due to stupid copyright shit (like, no being able to show any of the licensed films or cartoons? Which is a huge bummer.). But I do feel that I made connections and furthermore, felt embraced and included and warmly welcomed. No one questioned the fact I got here via "Get Back," no one challenged me on being new, no one made any attempt to gatekeep or Beatle bro at me. Only ONE person even asked who my favorite Beatle was. They all seemed genuinely delighted to have a new weirdo to share their passion with.

I haven't decided if I'm attending again, but I do already have plans in the works to suggest a few panels more in line with the type of con activity I like to see. Because even if it's not exactly the interactions I've been seeking, there's no substitute for face to face discussion and squee. And now, my photos!

Jay Bergen, Gregg Bissonette, Terry Sylvester, Joey Molland, Billy J Kramer, Pattie Boyd, and moderator Terri Hemmert.

So many shirts! My little outfits, missing my prized Stamp Out the Beatles sweatshirt:

Weirdass vintage Beatles merch:

And finally, what I spent too much money on because everyone I talked to had written a book, GDI. Plus, 1974 era buttons because I like old stuff and they were $10:

[5sosfanfictioncatalogue]

Tour Bus Masterlist

First Time (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/calum E, 5k

Summary: Luke was 19 and Calum thought it was about time to get him laid. Finding Luke somebody was harder than he thought. But all he knew was that the purity ring had to go.

Getting Caught (ao3) - 5sosquiff luke/ashton, michael/calum N/R, 1k

Summary: Luke let out a moan ." W-We can't ash they're right next to us!" He whisper yelled looking over at a sleeping Malum

I don't wanna be alone forever, but I can be tonight (ao) - orphan_account luke/ashton E, 2k

Summary: Ashton decides, that if he's going to have a wank, Luke awake in the bed next to him, shouldn't stop him. [AKA The one where they both jerk off in the bed next to each other while screaming each others names.]

In Dreams (ao3) - elivigar michael/luke T, 2k

Summary: Turning over on his side, so that he’s facing the wall, Michael smiles into the darkness when he realises that what’s happening is that Luke’s talking in his sleep. It’s sweet, he thinks, especially since it sounds like what Luke’s dreaming about is falling asleep in someone’s arms.

He wonders whose arms, though; is it anyone specific or just a nameless someone? Is it a girl or a guy? Is he holding the person or is he the one being held? As he drifts off to sleep, those are the thoughts that plague his mind, and when he wakes up again in the morning, they’re still there. I

In which Luke talks in his sleep and Michael listens.

Injection (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/luke E, 4k

Summary: For two days, Michael had been sick, grumpy and moody and to make him feel better, Luke had been googling ways because everything Calum and Ashton had tried had failed. He was quite happy that his plan was more effective and he was totally not expecting a reward in the end.

Or the one where Luke tried to sweat Michael's fever out when everything else failed.

i wish you could see yourself through my eyes (ao3) - bellawritess michael/calum, luke/ashton T, 1k

Summary: Michael doesn’t feel like he needs to go all out with the pride makeup, but Luke had kind of insisted that they do a pride makeup night at least one night of June, so here they all are, in various states of undress as the tour bus chugs along, and occupying every mirror or iPhone front-facing camera in a desperate attempt to put on makeup on a moving bus. It’s not easy.

Rabbits (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance michael/luke E, 3k

Summary: Luke was grumpy because of some things he saw online and to add to it, Ashton has made some new rules. That was not all, Luke blamed it all on Michael. On the other hand, Michael knew exactly what Luke's problem was; lack of attention. Michael had his own ways of giving Luke attention, ways he knew Luke would never refuse.

Same Story (ao3) - gardener luke/ashton M, 3k

Summary: It was always the same story, every time after they had been in close proximity to each other for elongated amounts of time and had to stay professional, almost bureaucratic for the sake of creating a new album. Maybe it was because they would get on each other’s nerves when they were around one another too long.

Luke and Ashton constantly get on each other's nerves and their default reaction to fighting is not safe for work.

Sausage And Bun (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/calum E, 3k

Summary: The boys were back on the road and Calum said something that caught Luke's attention. The wheel in his head started turning and he started having ideas that he never had before. Little did Calum know that a simple statement of his was going to get him into so much trouble.

Sleepless (ao3) - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) ot4 E, 2k

Summary: Luke (2:04 am): hey are you guys awake

Sleepless (ao3) - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) ot4 E, 2k

Summary: Luke (2:04 am): hey are you guys awake

something to prove (nothing to lose) (ao3) - bellawritess michael/harry T, 1k

Summary: Michael props himself up on his elbows and gives Harry a blank stare. “You want to finish the chess game? Instead of make out?”

stop and start (ao3) - jessus luke/calum M, 1k

Summary: “You are,” he says, and there’s something in him that says this means it’s time to move away, stop touching Calum, but another, more insistent part tells him to stay – tells him not to remove his hand from where it’s tucked underneath Calum’s arm. He just clenches the thin fabric of Calum’s t-shirt in his fist instead, finding the entire situation hilarious. “You’re jerking off.”

Take My Hand (ao3) - cyclogenesis (addictedkitten) ot4 E, 19k

Summary: In which Michael finds Luke, and then they all find each other. Also, hand-holding is the new cuddling.

we'll never be as young as we are now (ao3) - merlypops luke/ashton, michael/calum T, 5k

Summary: Ashton feels like everything is slipping through his fingers, and he needs Luke, Michael and Calum more than he's ever needed anyone.

[le-souriant]

#MusicMonday Review - April 2023

#MusicMonday is the hashtag I've been using for quite a while to share music recommendations from up-and-coming artists. Always fresh, and always different, trying to look for trends before they become one. You can check March's review for more music.

Welcome to our moody edition, where this month's music may transport you to a different state, temper, place, or era, all with a word from the artists themselves. 🎧

asia – Twenty twenty

I never thought that you would want to fall for me til you did

Now I don't know where you are Doesn't matter now So I don't know where I am

Sometimes you only need a guitar, and inspiration, to set a mood like no other, like this Sad Indie track, coming from Brussels, Belgium:

"I wrote it during Covid so it was largely inspired by the feeling of being stranded hahaha"

The Lonely Together – City Lights

Some men will never find love They're chasing all the wrong kind of city girls And it's true that there are many But for me, there was only ever one

I've never been so worried and I've never felt so scared in the knowledge that I cannot be there

From Edinburgh, Scotland, another dreamy mood piece, where the city air feels warm, floodlit by the sun, hanging over the absence of that special someone:

"I wrote it while apart from someone I cared about… the feeling of distance - different cities/views/surroundings and the emotions that stirred up. It’s a real love song."

Delta – En Mi Lugar

Siete copas tras la barra son algunas de las farras Que hace tiempo no me pego Solo puedo dar las gracias peinarme las cuatro canas Por lo bien que lo hemos hecho

En mi lugar, mirar atrás Sentir que todo pasa y nada está de más Un chaval, que no da más Al fin entiende que todo llega al final

Moving now to Barcelona, this Spanish Pop track offers a nostalgic mood in which time often puts us in our place:

"Well that’s an easy one! Since En mi Lugar is probably the first song with a common ground to share between all our band mates. A bittersweet feeling we all share when we take a look back into our lives only to realize how wonderful our past experiences have been, and at the same time facing the truth of knowing that most of those experiences are never to be repeated again."

Storm the Palace – Some of the Beasts and Birds We Saw

You and I found this In a moment, a pause for thought A faulty rhyme of two straight lines One pushes back, the other forth

One day you will grow into yourself And then you will blossom for all to see And no one will take your for any less Than you were meant to be

We go back to Edinburgh for a taste of Pagan Pop, complete with its own medieval mood that can make a new adventure from your daily dog walk:

"It started with a bit of graffiti on the river path near my house, which read "some of the beasts and birds we saw". WillaDavie took this and turned it into lyrics, which I then turned into the song.

I think the song is about the time she and I spent together throughout lockdown, going for walks, drinking in graveyards, talking about life and art and all things in between."

Pan Arcadia – Deja Vu

We’ve been left to instinct Left an imprint on my brain Often it's been different But it didn’t feel that way yesterday

I remember on the lawn How you used to sing along And I know you remember too You say you still get satisfaction From that fast and easy action I know I still get it too

For our last mood of the month, let's go to Williamsburg, Brooklyn for an Indie Rock track about that good ‘ole deja vu that gets us through the night in the city:

"The song was inspired by being in quarantine and thinking about summer days in New York City."

Listen to them and much more on the complete Playlist:

[killingtimekillingmoon]

Forgotten, an ODDINARY au.

Pairing: Lee Felix x afab!Reader

Genre: Suspense, drama, friends to lovers

Warnings: heeeavy angst, altered state of consciousness, paranoia, biohacking (sort of??), smut, alcohol abuse, did i say angst, English is not my first lgg, so I apologize in advance

Word count: 10k

Summary: Lee Felix is a childhood friend whose life has drifted apart from yours. Sometimes he is gone for months, sometimes he calls you in the middle of the night. In one of those nights, he talks about his most recent case: the mysterious disappearance of a boy named Yang Jeongin.

And what begins as an ordinary investigation leads to a wild ride of vivid nightmares, conspiracy theories, repressed feelings and... a red-haired man with a thing for apples.

(100% based on ODDINARY trailer, with addition of other SKZ universe theories and some creative liberties ahem)

prologue.

The lock clicks in his hands, like a manifestation of the motioning of his thoughts. You could recall him doing that same thing for pure distraction, for unconscious anxiety or just because he knows you hate it. Click, click, lock, unlock.

“Stop it”, you sigh, massaging your temples.

A faint smile pulls the corner of his mouth, interrupting the motion. Unlock. He does not say anything, eyes fixed on the lock, still lost in thoughts. There are bags under his eyes, his small and elvish face looks paler than usual under the artificial lights. You try not to think when was the last time that man has seen the sun.

You sigh again, raising your hand and calling for more coffee. It is bitter, much like the weird friendship you have with him.

“I don’t have much time left.”

“Got it”, despite his frail complexion hidden under heavy black clothing, his voice is bizarrely deep and assertive. “Need a favor.”

As a functional adult you like to think you are, your daily life is well structured: a good job, a decent pay, a nice apartment, friends who invite you to cozy restaurants, to bike riding in the park, to boring kindergarten performances. They would not think of you as a person who agrees with nocturnal meetings at dingy diners in the wrong part of the town.

“What’s it this time?”

“A boy, name is Yang Jeongin”, he empties his cup while pulling something from the pockets. “His parents hired me.”

The procedures are nothing new, so you do not waste time feeling sorry for yourself or trying to come up with an excuse to deny help. You take a look on a folded paper, a newspaper article about a young boy who has been missing for the past three months, an unsolved case by now. He also shows you two pictures: one of Yang Jeongin in a family gathering, a tall boy with a sharp jaw and cute smile surrounded by slightly drunk relatives and bouncing younger kids; the other is a picture probably taken from a yearbook, where he looked more serious, almost moody.

“I don’t remember this case. Was it on the news?”

“Nope”, the last syllable pops between his petal-shaped lips, like he is munching chewing gum. “I’ve talked with a couple of his old classmates. No one seems to remember him, either. It’s like the guy had never existed.”

“What do you mean? Like he didn’t have friends?”

“More like their memories about him had been wiped down”, he leaned towards you, placing elbows on the table. “Listen, I checked on his stuff, social media, school records... Jeongin was popular, people seemed to like him. People would’ve noticed if he was gone. But even if I show them pictures they’ve taken with him, school festival pictures, party pictures, no one can tell who he is.”

“This is impossible”, you state, feeling the headache getting stronger. “You sure...?”

Your voice dies, and regret fills in immediately through the hard stare he is giving you now. Beyond anything, he hates when you doubt him in a condescend manner. You feel him withdrawing, deciding to spare you from whatever other details he had about the case.

“...Sorry”, you whisper, but you know it is too late.

“I need the reports, whatever you can find about this boy”, he takes back the paper and the pictures, ready to leave. “If the guys in charge had talked to someone else, if they even suspected anyone. You know... the usual.”

“Sure”, you refrain yourself from apologizing again, feeling the pathetic tug in your heart whenever he moves to leave.

“Be careful. Call you in two days”, he promises, scratching behind his ear. “Thanks for your help.”

“Yeah... Take care, Felix.”

“I always do”, he offers you a warmer smile, but his sad eyes full of unsaid words. There has always been this lingering feeling between you two whenever you say goodbye, like you are forgetting something, maybe something it should have been said years before.

You watch his lonely figure to leave, to lost himself in the greyish city. You know it is burdensome to carry on with those weird meetings, not to cut ties for good. But the thought of him never calling you again, never hearing the demanding let’s meetin the middle of the night... It is way scarier.

i.

“Let’s meet.”

Felix really fulfills the promise, calling you in the middle of your duties two days later. Desk work, the usual bureaucracy of listening to petty crimes and filling and organizing reports. It’s raining and the precinct reeks of old coffee and mold due to the closed windows.

“I have a break in 15”, your fingers dances lazily on the keyboard, taking forever to finish the report.

“I know”, he answers impatiently before hanging up. Bitch.

You stretch your body, tired from being glued to the chair all day. One of your colleagues yawns behind you, asking about “The Big Game” next weekend and you engage on the conversation for a while. You should invite Tommy, Tommy is a great guy, Tommy has the best tips for stock market, you’re such a lucky girl. You just smile and nod.

“You’re late”, Felix greets you, holding an umbrella black as the rest of his clothes. In the narrow, smokey alley behind the building, he looks like a character coming straight from a science fiction movie.

“Be nice or you won’t get your treat”, his mood swings are less impressive during the day, and you had your gun and handcuffs to pose some authority.

He rolls his eyes at your antics, then chuckles anyway. It’s low, goes almost unnoticed, but you know him enough to catch those small details.

“Any luck?”

“Hm, I’ve been looking around and asking some people, but there isn’t much”, you hand him a thin envelope that quickly disappears inside his jacket. “The report, some spare notes, pictures. I searched for the people in charge of the investigation...”

“And?”

“They’re not here anymore”, you pursued your lips, recalling the information from the database. “One is retired now, but has moved out of the country. The other asked to be transferred to another department. You can take your own conclusions later, but... the whole thing looks messy, they really did a shitty job.”

Felix’s hand tightens around the umbrella, furrowed brows. The rain turned into mere drizzle, filling the alley with the sound of droplets hitting the puddles.

“Do you remember them?”, he asks after a while.

“It’s not my department, so I don’t kn... Oh, I get it. You’re testing a theory, right?”

“So you’re saying I won’t read here that they couldn’t find a single fucking soul who could remember Yang Jeongin, excluding his parents?”, he tapped the jacket defiantly. “And you’re good with faces, you’ve always remembered people by name. Yet you can’t remember those two, right?”

You bite your tongue, measuring your words. It is not worth hurting his feelings, it would just lead to more arguing, more resentment. It would only add more unsaid words to the pile you two have learned to ignore.

“So... that’s it? Is my job done?”

He clenches his jaw, his head probably running some of the same thoughts that pooled yours. He needs someone to get undisclosed info, after all.

“Thanks for the good job”, he comes closer, the umbrella covering both of you, tightening the invisible tension between your bodies. With your boots on, you two are on the same level, reflecting in each other’s eyes. Felix seems sleep deprived, malnourished; a beautiful sunflower who had been kept away from the sun for too long. He used to be your childhood best friend. You would like to think he still is.

“Yeah, anytime”, you try to smile, but his eyes are piercing your soul, like he can read your internal struggle. “Be careful, yes? And get some sleep.”

“I’ll try”, then he lowers his head, and for a delirious microsecond you think he is going to kiss you. The subtle sound of his lips parting against your ear may or may not have been a product from your imagination. “Keep your phone on. I think someone’s following me.”

Well, shit.

ii.

Felix does not like to sleep, hates even more to dream.

One week before meeting you at the 24 hours diner, Yang Jeongin’s parents had contacted him to hire his services, pleading for a misery ounce of hope that he would find their son alive. He was short on money and the opportunity was a blessing chance to make ends meet for a while.

He took it. Now he regrets it.

Since the first row of interviews with Jeongin’s past classmates, Felix’s feet have been acting on their own, walking him into an old, decaying building night after night. Double glass doors, neon sign. ORDINARY. Of course, in this line of work, he’s been to weirder places: slaughterhouses disguised as suburban homes, sinful temples hidden in churches’ undergrounds, abandoned factories sheltering entire communities. He declined the unconscious invitation to enter the ordinary building, finding his way home in the first, second and third nights.

In the fourth one, curiosity got the best of him. Trusting the stun gun in his jacket and a couple of tae-kwon-do moves, Felix opened the doors of the building. Lights flicked as in a cheap horror movie and shadows played on the corners of his eyes during the little adventure, but not a single ghost greeted him.

One floor after another, there were no traces of living creatures besides himself. His legs started to burn after so many stairs, cold sweat clinging on his skin. At some point, he stopped to catch a breath; that particular floor smelled funny, a fragrance that relaxed him at the same time it seemed to amplify his senses: the sound of a drilling machine, colorful graffiti that decorated walls and ceilings, an increasing heartbeat he could feel under his feet. When he exhaled, the building seemed to breath with him, too.

“Don’t be afraid”, someone whispered behind him.

Fuck!, his hand flew to the stun gun, panic constricting his throat.

Felix fell off the bed, fighting the comforter furiously. Like the past three nights, the sensations felt too real for a nightmare, his hoarse voice trying to speak with someone who was not there.

Because he has never been to the ordinary building.

The small apartment was engulfed in darkness, but he knew his way to the bottle of whiskey. It was mechanical, just like his other hand crawling the bedside table, looking for the phone. He needed to find a shortcut, finish the investigations before he would slip into paranoia.

He needed you.

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

After the meeting behind the precinct, Felix spends two unsuccessful weeks following leads that end up in more frustration. Amnesia seems a common ground, a virus that burns all his attempts to find Jeongin. I don’t know this person. I’ve never seen this man. I can’t remember this case. So, he drinks more, up all night trying to avoid the dreams. Trying.

“Don’t be afraid.”

“Where the fuck are you?!”, he is brave enough to explore the corridors by now, mad at the lack of answers. And he walks, walks, walks. There are candles lightening the way, more neon signs and incense burners everywhere overloading his senses.

He turns right and there is a tall shadow in the end of the corridor, hanging from a chandelier. He can’t see its face, but knows it is smiling at him. Each step towards it makes it easier to distinguish the details – long arms and legs wrapped in black leather, hair as blood red as the plump lips that adorned a beautiful, pale face.

“Hello, Yongbok”, his lips do not move, but Felix can hear his voice perfectly. “He is annoyed, you know?”

“W-who?”

In a blink of an eye and a flash of red lights, he is in a different part of the building. It is a room with a single antique sofa, where a body lays covered by newspapers. The same article, different pictures. One of them features the same face he has stared for the past three weeks.

“Yang Jeongin...?”

The body jolts like an electrified Frankenstein creature, startling Felix, who falls on the floor. From the blanket of newspapers, newly awakened Jeongin rises and stretches his arms.

“It’s you”, he yawns, bothered. “Why are you taking so long?”

Jeongin looks healthy, wearing a green fancy suit and matching shorts like some sort of model. He does not look like the youthful, innocent student anymore, but rather a fashionable member of a gang. Felix is awed, terrified, no sound coming from his mouth. The smell of incense is too much now, suffocates him.

“Why are you taking so long?”, Jeongin repeats louder, a shift in the air dislocating him closer to Felix. His fist hits the wall behind the trembling detective. “We are waiting for you, hurry up!”

No, no... it’s too much, his head spins and he is whispering your name like a feeble prayer, calling for your help in that twisted world. His fingers look for the gun, but Jeongin seizes his wrist painfully.

“No, not yet”, he says in a disappointed tone. “You’re incomplete... not enough Yongbok in you.”

“W-what you mean...? I am me...”

Jeongin shakes his head, frustrated.

“Don’t make us waiting forever.”

iii.

You are pissed. That pretty bastard had dared to ask you for inside information, gone around telling you to leave your phone on because someone has been following him, then proceeds to vanish for TWO FUCKING WEEKS.

Declined calls, unanswered messages, you even tried the 24 hours diner, but Felix had worked harder to avoid any form of contact between you two. He’s always been the lone wolf type; it would be easy for him to end up one day in a shallow grave without you noticing it. As consequence, your sleep is restless, every day adding new bits of intrusive thoughts to your anxiety monster.

Tommy has been working until late, having so many executive events and meeting potential clients that the big house seems emptier than normal lately. You try to carry on with your responsibilities, hang out with the usual friends, help at the community center, but every night you eat alone and sleep alone, having as company the fear of Felix being dead.

It’s been like this before, he’s fine, you try to comfort yourself. Yeah, he would disappear for the next six months and call you one night asking for help again. It’s better this way...

The doorbell rings three times and you jump out of the bed, heart beating faster against your ribcage. Tommy has lost his keys again, the dumbass.

No.

It’s Lee Felix at your door, 2AM.

You open the door ready to land a punch on his face, but he looks miserable. His blond hair is messy, his lips are dry, his body is on the verge of malfunction. So instead, you circle his waist, dragging him to the kitchen like a victim of war. He gladly accepts, almost asleep.

“Two. Fucking. Weeks.”, you mutter while watching him devouring a big bowl of samgyetang, making slurping sounds like a starving man. “Haven’t you eaten lately?”

“Does whiskey count as food?”, he chuckles, steam bringing some color to his cheeks. “Hey!”, he winces when you hit his head with a wooden spoon.

“You’re unbelievable.”

You watch him eat, still fuming. Offer him as much food as he can take, torn between the desire to kick him out of the house and the relief of seeing him again.

“Is Tommy home?”

“No, he’s probably sleeping at his office”, you pour some soju to you both, humming contently when the liquid slide down your throat.

“You shouldn’t have opened the door...”, he drinks his in one gulp, closing his eyes to appreciate the taste.

“This is my house, too”, you remind him. “But yeah, maybe you’re right. What do you need this time?”

Felix slowly open his eyes, glaring at you intensely. He tilts his head, like he dares you to speak your mind, to be honest with him.

“I just wanted to see you. Aren’t we friends?”

You scoff, pouring more soju.

“Two weeks, for fuck’s sake. It’s me who should be asking that.”

“My theories bother you”, he shrugs, playing with the empty shot glass. “And it is not like I’m a friend you have for dinner.”

“To hell with your theories, I was worried about you. I couldn’t sleep because of you, because you said that shit about being followed, and didn’t pick up my fucking calls after! I thought you were dead!”

“I’m here now.”

You want to punch him again, maybe break something. It looks like he’s pleased with the eminence of you ripping apart that composed, responsible adult mask of yours. But it’s past 3 in the morning and you have to work early.

“I’m gonna say this, then you can do whatever you want”, you say, intently venomous. “I love you. We grew up together. But I don’t know you anymore. And it was your decision to be like this, to live like this, only calling me when you need something. It was your decision not to be part of my life, not to be here when I needed you.”

“You don’t need me”, he replies nonchalantly.

“Bullshit. You weren’t there when I graduated, or when I got my license, or when I was making plans for my future... You didn’t even bother showing up for my fucking wedding."

His eyes soften, his lips parting like he wants to say something. Instead, he lowers his head, tired. “Sorry.”

And you do not know if it is the alcohol or the time, but you genuinely want to believe him, to tell him things could be ok, forgiven and forgotten.

“You’ve always been better than me with... this”, he adds, motioning vaguely to the walls. You watch his Adam’s apple going up and down with the effort to keep his emotions in control. “I’m good at finding people, not living peacefully with them. I’ve seen their worst and it’s hard to believe in genuine happiness. And you-”, he stops himself, swallowing the end of that thought. You put your hand over his and gives a little squeeze, your own throat burning with words and feelings you cannot really name.

Felix accepts your touch, lowering that invisible wall for a moment. His gaze is intense again, but not unpleasant. You stare his fingers closing around yours as he stares your lips like a man seeing a desirable yet forbidden fruit. His body moves towards yours in a smooth move, and he presses chapped lips against yours like he has done that uncountable times before, like it is the one rational thing to do after knocking on your door in the middle of the night.

You don’t move, neither rejection nor encouragement coming from you. His other hand cradles your face in a warm caress, pulling you softly against him. It’s wrong, your brain tells you in a motherly tone. You’re a married woman. You’re a responsible citizen. You’re a lucky girl for having Tommy, doesn’t everybody say it?

It’s too late.

Kindly, you put some distance between your bodies. And it’s cold again, like everything in that city. He respects your decision.

“I should get going.”

“Don’t you dare”, you clutch his hoodie, alarmed by his sudden words. “I mean... it’s late. There’s someone out there watching you, remember? It’s better, hm, at least for now... you should stay here for the night. I have a spare room. We talk more in the morning, ok? Please, for the sake of my sanity.”

He chuckles, surprised by the invitation. He accepts it, though. The walls are back between you two, but at least you are under the same roof, the same sky.

iv.

When the morning comes, Tommy has not returned home yet. No missing calls, no messages, but you could not care less. You run to check on Felix, to make sure he is still there. The room is empty, but the scent of coffee and cigarettes draws you to the backyard, where his blond figure enjoys the sunlight. It triggers nostalgia in your heart, but you don’t remember any specific memory.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer”, he jokes, shifting on the lounge chair. Smoke twirls lazily from his mouth and you realize he is using your secret stash.

“How did you...?”

He rolls his eyes, dismissing your question. “Go have some coffee or you’ll be late.”

Since he is in a better moody, you don’t complain. Touched by sun is where he belongs, where his smile blooms genuinely and freckles make their way across his skin like stardust. In another life, this morning could have been one of many in which you two would share a meal together, living together without the heaviness of the weeding band that Tommy had already placed on your finger.

“Someone had a good sleep, huh?”

“Yeah, it’s been all nightmares lately”, he taps the ashtray and raises his cup of coffee to his lips. You try not to stare too much, try to fool your memory. He would not talk about that, and neither would you.

“What do you dream about?”

And he tells you. Felix is not the best storyteller, but he has a way to use the perfect words to describe the duality of his feelings inside the building and the astonishment upon hearing Yang Jeongin, someone whose voice he has never heard in real life.

“Don’t make us waiting forever”, you repeat, puzzled by the story. “Why us?”

He gave you an approving look, glad that you are not questioning the oddity of the situation.

“There are more of them. Yang Jeongin isn’t the only person who went missing and had been erased from other people’s memories.”

Kim Seungmin, a college student and part-time photographer.

Han Jisung, a rising star artisan, focused in woodcraft.

Lee Minho, a barista who was involved with a biker gang.

Yes, he knows the city is big and people go missing every day. But those were the names he caught during the nightmare, although he thinks there could be many more.

“Believe me, I know what it looks like... to trust a dream.”

You motion an imaginary zipper over your mouth, throwing the also imaginary key away. He chuckles, feigning annoyance by biting the inside of his cheek.

“So...? You’ve searched for those people, right?”

He nodded, crushing the cigarette on the ashtray. You feel goosebumps travelling down your spine, fearing he would confirm your suspicions.

“Same thing. There are written records of them, proof that they existed. But no real witnesses. Actually... it’s even worse”, he sighs, placing elbows on his knees. “I reached out to Kim Seungmin’s family yesterday. The ones registered as his parents... they don’t remember him.”

What the fuck...?

“Hm, for how long he’s been gone?”

“Six months.”

You exchange a look, calculating hypotheses. There is not much room for rational thinking anymore, not with oneiric revelations and supernatural amnesia on the table. You do not feel the sun as strong as before, like your own skin has forgotten it, too.

v.

“I’m sorry, but it has to be a mistake. We don’t have a son, do we...?”

Mr. Yang turns to his wife, who smiles like a lobotomized doll. She denies, no signs of the crying mother who had knocked on Felix’s door three weeks before.

“Mr. Lee, I’m afraid you’re looking for a different Yang family, right?”

Felix does not answer, his face an emotionless mask of professionalism.

“It could be, but... Huh, before I leave, do you mind showing me the bedrooms?”

Of course, the couple does not know how to explain why there is a room decorated as if a teenage lived in the house. Felix takes advantage of their shock to roam around and check for anything he might have missed during the first visit (they don’t remember such event, but at that point he does not give a shit).

A red notebook hits the floor as he moves a heavy dresser. The couple is lost in talking, trying to understand what is going on, so Felix just slips the object under his clothes. Then he says his goodbyes without looking back.

“Let’s meet”, he requests while waiting for an uber driver.

It’s a gloomy Friday afternoon, three days after your last meeting. He’s been busy, but calls you at least once in a day to say he is okay, the vaguest description that implied he has not lost his mind yet.

“Sure, come home. I’ll be there in 10.”

Resting on the backseat, he presses his forehead against the window. Come home, you said. It is not his home; it would never be. His earliest memory was the notion that displacement, that people were lying to him about human connections. He has never felt anything for his family, gotten used to care about them just because, a fact as ancient as your presence in his life.

As ancient as the inevitability of loving you.

He does not remember the reasons anymore (or that is what he says to himself), but the list of his inadequacies is an ever-growing project, more items being added as your lives keep drifting apart. It would be for the best to just let you go, but every time you answer to his curt let’s meet, that feeling finds a new way to survive one day more.

Red lights make the car stop; Felix watches people hurrying towards the crosswalk, from white-collar workers returning to their desks after lunch to teenagers who skipped classes and ahjummas carrying colorful shopping bags. While judging in silence, a creepy sensation freezes him and widens his eyes. He searches the source of such discomfort, but it is not difficult to spot the red-haired man walking along with the mob: in the sea of grey, his heart-shaped pink googles and black and red pants are impossible to ignore.

As if in slow motion, he turns his head to Felix and smile before being swallowed by the crowd. It’s a matter of seconds, but enough to make Felix hyperventilate.

He needs you or he will shatter to pieces.

vi.

It’s no consolation that you greet him with a time limit. “I have an appointment at 4”, you explain, indicating a folder with the logo of a laboratory.

“You sick?”, he asks, following you to the kitchen, where you start brewing some tea.

“No, that’s...”, embarrassment dusts your cheeks and you clean your throat, trying again. “It’s for a fertility treatment. I mean... the doctor will check the results to see if a more aggressive treatment is necessary.”

“Necessary for what?”, he is taken aback, lips slightly apart like a curious child.

“Take a guess”, you sigh, thinking he is messing with you. “To get pregnant. A baby, you know? Those cute gremlins that drool and shit themselves all the time...?”

Felix let the information sink, unable to find a proper reaction. What does the idea of you being a mother makes to him? Sad? Happy? Angry? A teacup is placed in front of him and the aroma of peppermint soothes his uneasiness, followed by the sweet appeal of honey. His fingers trace the warm surface, thinking about how you just have this way of welcome his broken existence without asking too much.

Oh, he reached a conclusion. It’s unfair.

“Why?”

“Is this a new topic or...?”

“Why do you want a baby? Is that even you who want it?”

“Drink it, you’re shaking”, you pour honey in his cup, taking your time to answer. “Felix, it’s just the next big step. Being married, having kids, retirement plans, stuff like this. Tommy and I talked about it, so... we’ve been trying.”

He rolls his eyes, not buying that artificial speech. Tommy is never around; he could be an imaginary being for all Felix knows if there were not for the honeymoon pictures and the ring on your finger.

“So, did you check the other cases? The artisan and the barista dudes?”, you obviously want to change the subject and, given his original intention to request that meeting, he allows it.

Han Jisung’s workshop has been collecting dust for an entire year. His works, the ones exposed in art exhibitions, are credited as unknown author now. Lee Minho’s employer of the month’s portrait has been collecting dust for a lot longer, though. One year and a half. Coffee shop owner has no idea who Lee Minho was, but keeps the portrait because many customers think he is handsome.

“... and I visited Jeongin’s family, too”, he enjoys the last sip of tea, spicy and sweet flavors dancing on his taste buds. “Guess what.”

You run fingers through your hair, chuckling bitterly.

“I couldn’t meet Jisung and Minho’s parents, but I doubt it’d make any difference”, he shrugs, pulling the red notebook found in Jeongin’s former bedroom. “I think this is the last thing that can point the right direction to-“

“You should stop”, you interrupt him with a pleading look. “Listen... Felix, I get that you wanna find this boy. But this is draining you, mentally and physically. The collective amnesia, the dreams, I-I believe they are real. I believe you. It’s just... there’s a limit for everything. You should stop before... b-before it becomes plain obsession.”

“You’re telling me to give up?”, he questions calmly, despite the clenched jaw.

“I’m telling you to understand that it’s not worth wasting time on something beyond our comprehension. I’m kindly asking you to move on.”

“Would you do that? To move on and... forget about me?”

Your breath hitches and you mirror the quiet anger that burns in his eyes. Felix waits for an answer during that staring contest, which you give up first.

“It’s not fair.”

But he’s not willing to let it slide twice.

“Answer the question”, he tilts his head, watching you like a hawk. His voice drops a few octaves, laced with honey and demand, not giving you any time to raise your walls properly.

“You fucking know I wouldn’t”, you hiss, standing up and trying to walk away. He blocks the way, cornering you against the counter, but still giving plenty of space for you to escape. “Felix, for fuck’s sake.”

“So, you want me to move on, to accept things like they are. Why? Is that how you deal with life? With Tommy?”, he’s burning with that cold wrath inside, but his voice is no more than vicious whispering.

“Felix, please...”, you gulp hard, eyes diverging from his merciless gaze.

“Do you really wanna a child?”

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“Do you really wanna a child?”

“Stop it!”

“Do you really wanna a child?!”

“FUCK! NO! NO, I DON’T!”, you push him aside, enraged. The teapot is smashed against the wall, followed by a flower vase, cookbooks and whatever you can grab before Felix seizes your wrists in his hands. “Let me go!”

He does not.

Glass and shredded paper litters the room; he does not let you touch or step on those things for your safety, but the vision gives him wicked satisfaction. It’s a tiny materialization of the frustration that consumes him every day, since he can remember. Like you two are part of a never-ending experiment in which you are each other’s solace and doom. He’s been thrashing against the cell and feeling miserable more and more while you accepted the imprisonment, had already given up on freedom.

“Let me go... let me go...”, you sob against his shoulder, wobbly legs threatening to fail. “W-why are you punishing me...? Why...”

“I’m sorry”, your wrists slip from his grasp, closeness replaced by a tight embrace instead. His fingers lose themselves in your hair, hearing you sigh in relief.

“No, no, you’re not sorry”, you accuse him, snickering weakly. “Fuck you, Felix.”

“You’re right, I’m not”, he closes his eyes, feeling his heart about to burst. For a glorious moment, he does not care about the cage in his mind, nor the missing persons cases, neither the nightmares or the red-haired man. “I love you.”

“Shit”, you curse, clutching his white button-up shirt and breathing hard on his neck.

He asks for consent the second time you kiss, reverence seeping from his touch instead of impulsive lust. The second time you kiss, you surrender to him and to your own desires over any form of moral code, any bound or wall that you had kept until then. You touch his petal-shaped lips in awe, only to bring them back to yours again and again.

Walking recklessly among pieces of glass and broken decorations, your back hits the counter and you’re trapped again, but willingly this time. His hands rush to your hips as he deepens the kiss, the intensity of honey and peppermint twice as stronger. Both of you pant and laugh and kiss and touch, though tragedy could walk through the door at any second.

Outside world is forgotten. Forgotten when he tastes your neck, then bite and suck it. Forgotten when you take him by the hand, leading the way to your room, to your cold bed. Forgotten when you strip each other between kisses, smiling after that maddening long wait.

“Is that what you want?”, you tease as he brushes his fingers along your inner thigh, wakening goosebumps in your skin.

“You have no idea”, his hooded eyes watch your naked body with a hunger you have never experienced before. “It’s not just the sex... It’s you.”

“Ugh, lame!”, you laugh and he goes for you, your bodies thrashing around until you’re on your stomach, pinned down. “Ok, ok... I surrender.”

He chuckles, darkly.

“I’ll fucking devour you.”

Well, he is a man who keeps his promises, after all.

vii.

It’s night and you sleep peacefully beside him. Exposed parts of your skin glow under soft orange lights and his fingers travel over the lines of your cleavage, arms, jaw and lips as a wish to memorize that naked Venus who was his for an entire afternoon. He tries to delay the moment you are going to wake and regret what you did, his mind coming up with your voice saying in a gentle but firm tone that could never happen again. And he does not think he would disagree, the old list of insecurities ready to back up the decision.

Having displacement and disappointment as his roommates, he will manage to survive by having that night as a treasure to revisit; the sweet memory of your arched body riding him while chanting his name, the most perfect orgasm he could dream of between feverish kisses that poured years of yearning from his mouth to yours.

A quiet tear streams down his face.

It’s time to go.

Crumpled clothes slide back to his lean body, hiding passionate hickeys, teeth marks and a few scratches. He leaves the room without looking back. The kitchen and the adjoined dinner room is still littering with fragments, but he navigates among them without much effort, calmly retrieving the red notebook from the mess.

“You should stop”, your voice rings in his head. The disobedience is stronger.

The first pages detail Jeongin’s daily life as a high schooler, a friend, a son. He is overall a positive boy, but most of his impressions sound unnatural, like he is living under the compulsory obligation of being happy (I’m being ungrateful, right?he even questioned himself at a given moment). Then the insomnia comes, followed by vivid nightmares.

A decaying building. People who seemed to know him, but claimed he was incomplete. Frankincense sticks burning everywhere. And lastly, a red-haired man with a thing for apples.

I’m afraid, he wrote as the last coherent entry.

The remaining pages were filled with obsessive writing, though.

HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING HE’S COMING ORDINARY ORDINARY ORDINARY ODDINARY ORDINARY ORDINARY ORDINARY O

viii.

When has he returned home?

How many days has he been locked in his room, feeling cursed and too afraid to sleep? Yang Jeongin is dead, he tells himself. And if the dreams and the red-haired man are signs of inevitable doom, it is a matter of time for him to be the next victim.

Alcohol does not help anymore. The lock clicks in his hand, its sound breaking the sepulchral silence that fills the apartment. Click, click, lock, unlock. With his body splayed over the couch, he stares the ceiling, thinking about all the choices that lead his life to that crucial point. But memory is a funny thing these days.

After the disturbing reading, Felix can no longer remember his childhood, the house he grew up or the face of his parents. Was he adopted? An orphan? An alien? Luckily, you are still on his mind, the notifications of your messages and missed calls piled up on his phone. Some of them he has answered, just to let you know he still lives as well as to bury any attempt of physical contact. It has been enough hell without putting you in real danger.

One night, there is no food nor booze anymore to appease his basic needs. So, he showers for the first time in days and meets the streets again, like a zombie among oblivious humans. He eats ramen in a convenience store and buys enough soju and whiskey to spend the next days, but does not make big plans; future is a luxury out of limits by now.

Then, few meters from the convenience store, he sees Yang Jeongin standing still under streetlights, looking right at him.

After being sure he caught Felix’s attention, he proceeds to walk down the street in a quick pace. Without any hesitation, Felix leaves everything behind and runs after the boy, keeping a reasonable distance until Jeongin turns and enters a narrow alley, out of sight.

Felix halts; the stun gun is at home and he is running out of time. If he has some sanity left and, by any chance, that boy is the same from the dreams... Well, what else is there to lose?

“Yang Jeongin...?”, an unnatural darkness bathes the narrow path, no one at sight. He goes forward, stretching his hand and feeling the cold surface of a wall. “Yang Jeongin, answer me!”, and just like Alice following the White Rabbit, Felix moves in uncharted territory blindly, wondering if that place is still part of the same world he lives in.

Frankincense.

“Yang Jeongin!”, he calls again. “Kim Seungmin! Han Jisung! Lee Minho! I know you all, but I need answers!”

“You don’t know shit.”

Something hits his ankles and he falls backwards, startled. Purple and blue neon lights cut the darkness, illuminating the same vintage sofa from his dreams. Jeongin is there, frowning at him.

“You look terrible.”

“Yeah, thanks”, Felix looks around, trying to identify what and who had hit him. “Am I dreaming? Where’s the red-haired man?”

Jeongin smirks, his eyes shifting to something behind Felix. A long object hits the ground besides Felix, a loud crackling noise that hurts his ears. It’s a hockey stick.

“Oi, you fake Yongbok-ah! Stop playing dumb and wake the fuck up!”, the man whose face Felix had only seen in a portrait at a small coffee shop comes forward, handling the stick in a threatening movement. Different from the portrait, his hair is bright purple and there is an edgy aura around him.

“Lee... Min... ho”, Felix mutters, terrified. He feels defenseless, his body stiff due to the sudden fight or flight instinct.

“You’re scaring him”, Jeongin warns, standing up. “What are you doing here?”

“Saving your ass, kid. You shouldn’t have come, it’s not safe. He’s not safe”, Minho swings the stick towards Felix, the sharp toe centimeters from the detective’s eyes. “He’s a walking bomb, Jeongin-ah.”

“I-I’m not a bomb!”, his head hurts, like someone is poking his brain. Like he is on the verge of a revelation, but the effort is too powerful and sensory overload befalls him. “What the fuck you...”

“He’s not ready. But we can’t lose him, hyung”, Jeongin tries to reach Felix, but Minho blocks the way with the stick. “You hear me? I won’t let them win. They won’t have Yongbok! We need to try harder, something stronger!”

“I know”, despite the harsh tone, sadness spread over Minho’s eyes. Felix is groaning while pressing hands to the sides of his head. “Chan hyung and Changbin say he needs more time, but the dreams are tearing him apart. So, I say bullshit”, he pulls something from his pockets, walking towards the man on the ground. “Hyunjin gave me this. And if it’s me... I don’t mind taking the risk.”

Although Felix’s brain is burning, he still registers Minho taking him by the chin and opening his mouth unceremoniously. He feels something round-shaped and cold on his tongue and tries to spit, but Minho is stronger and presses his jaw to keep his mouth shut.

“Be a good boy and don’t resist it”, he displays a heartfelt yet painful smile. “Fuck, his memories are...”

“The virus! Minho hyung!”, Jeongin holds the hockey stick, ready to take action if needed.

“Bite it, Yongbok-ah. It’s your favorite”, Minho is shaking, but does not let go of Felix. “It’s gonna hurt, but you need to wake up. B-burn the last connection you have here bef... Fuck, this shit hurts... b-before this ordinary world consumes you. The real you.”

Felix grits his teeth, biting the thing by mistake. For a horrifying second, he is lost between the sweet taste of cherry all over his mouth and the vision of the sky above that reflected a mirror image of the skyscrapers and urban lights instead of the usual black canvas. Then he is screaming, the sound a metallic, robotic voice that does not belong to him.

“Good luck, Yongbok”, Minho says, his and Jeongin’s silhouettes flickering before vanishing altogether.

Now the alley is back to a normal size and the sounds of traffic and human chattering reach the fallen body, followed by the old smell of decay and a cold drizzle. Felix breathes like he had run a marathon, but at least his brain has stopped assaulting him. He welcomes the droplets that soak his clothes, gazing at sky with the certainty of a wise man who had accepted madness.

When he finally crawls back to his apartment, he realizes how empty he feels in that body. In the bathroom, he checks his face and the eyes that stare him back have different colors now – one is blue, the other is green. He blinks, then the eyes are black again.

At that point, he is not impressed, though.

ix.

“There are no signs of bacteria or damage to the optic nerves, sensitivity is pretty normal too. You’re totally fine”, the doctor reports, signalizing for Felix to leave the examination chair. “I’m certain it was an optical illusion, Mr. Lee. Light can be tricky.”

Felix nods, then follows you out of the office with an apathetic expression.

“You’re not convinced, huh?”

“I know what I saw”, you pull a cigarette, walking faster to take shelter under a marquee. It’s raining again and you did not bring any umbrella. “How are you so calm?”

“I’m tired of being stressed all the time, it’s no good for the skin”, he shrugs, not bothering to dry himself.

“Haha, funny!”, you roll your eyes, trying to make the lighter work, but to no avail.

When you woke up alone that night, you decided to give both of you time to process what had happened and how to take things from there on, communication limited to short messages, just a polite nod to check on his general wellbeing. You are still not sure of what protocols to follow after having sex with your best friend, but after a weird week, you had had enough of all that awkwardness and overthinking. Therefore, you knocked at his door that morning with the mission to discuss your options... only to find that man more distracted than normal and with a sudden change of eye color.

“Hey... let me help”, he takes the lighter from your hand, finger almost brushing your face when the small flame finally touches the cigarette. You exchange a brief glance, your stomach warm with butterflies. “Didn’t you stop smoking?”

“Yep.”

“What about the baby...?”, he inhales the smoke, savoring it.

“There’s no baby”, you answer, flickering the ashes. “Well... at least, I hope so. You know, we didn’t use any protection.”

He chuckles, thoughtful.

“I’d take the responsibility.”

“Yeah... And I’d be mother of two.”

He actually laughs this time, a genuine sound that has been so rare to witness lately. Then he fakes annoyance, scratching the back of his head.

“Sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Maybe I like the mess”, you blow the smoke, looking at the grey clouds that have been ruining your day. “If I’m being honest to myself, I could’ve stopped answering your calls years ago. But I didn’t.”

“Did you tell Tommy?”, he watches your profile, amused at the words. Even if he feels empty, your confession still does wonders to whatever ego left in that shell.

“Who’s Tommy?”

“Huh... your husband?”

“What? Since when?”

His smile faulters, his puzzled expression matching yours. You are sure he is pulling some sort of prank, but to Felix... he is facing the final and most brutal revelation: The amnesia is progressing.

He blinks and his eyes change again to blue and green. And, like an apocalyptic vision, there is a glitch in the sky and the duplicate town reveals itself once more. His head hurts a little, brain overflowing with fragments of memories.

He is younger, dressed in white, running towards an old bus...

Then, he is on the top of a skyscraper, almost sleeping against someone’s shoulder... not alone

they are home

hunted, lost, hungry

but never alone

“Felix!”, he hears your distant call through the growing wave of pain.

Felix wakes up later, a little bit disorientated. Soft mattress, big windows, smell of tobacco, vaulted ceiling. It’s home. With a groan, he rolls to the side and, much to his surprise, your sleeping form welcomes him.

Hahaha, what a time for a wet dream.

However, whatever definition reality has now, you are there. He can feel your skin under his fingertips and see your chest moving as you breath.

“It tickles”, you murmur sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Thanks for bringing me back.”

“You okay...?”

“I guess. Why don’t you check up?”

“Someone’s horny”, you raise one eyebrow, letting him take you in his arms, into the familiar warmth of the person you have known your entire life. “Your eyes...”

You hoped to see them back to black after some resting, but the abnormality resists to wear off. The effect is not grotesque, though, it compliments his face and gives him a feline expression; and since Felix has always been a man with delicate features, his beauty has become even more ethereal – no amount of alcohol and sleep deprivation could erase that fact.

“I’m getting used to it”, he smiles, brushing his lips against your forehead. You have forgotten about Tommy and may or not continue to forget people. But you have not forgotten him. Even if his time is running out, you are in his arms again and do not seem to reject his touch. “Hey, you have time now?”

“For what?”

“A date.”

Night has only begun, so a lot of options unfold when you accept the sudden invitation. Rain left behind a cool breeze which makes you walk side by side, holding hands like two teenagers. Felix indulges himself in fulfilling such fantasy, stealing kisses here and there while you look for a place to eat. You try different sweets from street vendors, share bubble tea, sikhye and hotteok, then dance together while listening to street musicians. Lastly, you visit a deserted parking lot and share cigarettes and stories that have not been wiped out from your memory yet.

Like Cinderella, you return to his apartment at midnight. The city is colder now, so you take off your clothes and have a hot bath together. The domesticity and intimacy of the act is so natural that Felix questions himself if that hellish month had not just been a very long and complex nightmare. And while the heterochromia is enough evidence to say otherwise, he ignores it in favor of his own craves. So, he lets you wash his hair as he roams his hands all over your body – sometimes with the excuse of helping you, sometimes with malicious intent.

You steal one of his many oversized hoodies and climb on the bed to dry his hair. He rests lazily between your legs and against your chest, but knows that peace is about to shatter when you whisper: “You forgot Yang Jeongin’s notebook at my place.”

He does not move, does not look at you.

“Did you read it?”

“I did”, you confess, remembering easily the obsessive writing pooling the final pages. “You... those nightmares started way before you found it, right?”

He nods.

“Have you already seen the red-haired man?”

He nods again.

Your heart tightens, eyes stinging with the urge for crying. So, that is it. You are at the end of the line.

“Don’t go.”

He gulps hard.

“Burn the last connection you have here”, Lee Minho told him. Now that Felix knows there is something wrong with the world, there is only one thing that could be used against him, to stop him to pursue the truth.

Solace and doom. You.

“I dreamed about you last night”, you reveal, eyes watering. “We were in jail, I guess. We couldn’t talk much, but I kept seeing you around in this white outfit, so angry. Then you were about to escape that place... and you asked me to go with you, but I didn’t. And I asked you to stay...”

“... But I left”, he finishes the sentence in shock, turning around as his brains offers fragments of the scenario you have just described.

“Was it really a dream, Lix?”, tears cross your face and your head hurts, like someone has poked your brain using a very long and sharp needle. What a déjà vu. “Why do I feel like I have to make you stay...?”

Felix cradles your face, kissing those tears away. He feels out of breath, cursing whatever or whoever is forcing you to act like this. He will make them pay, will bring them hell.

“I’ll find you again”, he whispers between kisses, his own tears mixed with yours.

“I love you”, you sigh, feeling like this is the last chance to tell him. “We’ve been waiting for each other for so long... I can wait a little more.”

He lets your confession washes over him, groaning in happiness. He is crying, smiling, relieved and torn apart. Although you suspect you cannot trust your memories anymore, your heart recognizes the scrunched nose and smile from your childhood days. The freckles, the teeth, those moon-shaped eyes, you have always loved every part of him.

“I’ll find you, I promise”, he reassures you, bringing your bodies together. You straddle him, kissing him fiercely, running fingers on his chest. If this is goodbye, you will mark him, will pour your everything, until the last drop of your spirit.

You push him to the bed, untie his robe and relish on his body. It never ceases to amaze you how well-built he is, despite the dainty face; you can feel his muscles reacting to your lips, his breath becoming ragged the more you explore. When your eyes meet, there is a quiet but fervent plea on them.

“You want me?”

“I always want you.”

Felix watches intensely as you end his misery by sliding his cock into your mouth, unable to blink when he can feel your tongue swirling around it, so teasingly and warmly it is difficult to concentrate not to cum. He captures the way your lips move, the shiny string of saliva whenever you stop to catch a breath, how impossibly hot it becomes when you apply just enough pressure and speed to make him jolt. Then, with a great amount of self-control, he begs you to stop, to come back before he goes crazy.

You giggle, but he is not ashamed at the slightest. His intentions are obvious and you are more than willingly to please. Taking off the hoodie you borrowed, Felix hums in bliss as he latches his mouth on one of your nipples, making you squirm and cling to him, pulling his hair while he bites and kisses the skin. With a free hand on the small of your back, he coaxes you to straddle him again, earning your enthusiastic consent to finally fill you up.

Regardless the chaotic spiral his life has turned into, Felix takes his time with you. He pushes his hips up in a tantalizing, slow pace, breathing through parted lips as he feasts on your debauched figure clenching around him, moaning at every thrust. And, as much as you know you could take control of the situation and have things your way, it is much more satisfying to feel your desire being consumed bit by bit.

When he starts taking things faster, it is equally rewarding – the sounds of your bodies clashing against each other, the familiar burning in your lower belly, the sloppy kisses being gradually interrupted by louder moans. At some point, he lays you down, looking at you in utter adoration while rubbing your clit. He cannot avoid smirking at your surprised gasp, your pussy becoming tighter the more he teases you.

“Felix...”

“I know”, you hold him closer, pleasure tears painting your face. “Fuck! I love you, I love you so much”, his hoarse voice is barely intelligible as he comes, lost among the enticing pain of your nails scratching his back and your silent cry when your own orgasm crashes upon you.

“I... I can’t believe I’ll have to wait a million years to have this again”, you joke, caressing his hair while he rests on your chest.

“Well, thank you”, he smiles drowsily.

You share a last kiss, soon engulfed by sweet post-orgasmic lethargy.

x.

It is even more difficult to leave you this time.

While dressing, Felix thinks about writing a farewell note. Nah. You two have said enough, felt enough. It would be just an excuse to delay his mission.

He kisses your forehead, leaves his keys on the table, then closes the door.

It is 4 am and the only sound cutting the silence of the empty streets comes from the lock in his hand. His feet know where to go, two weird dowsing rods shaped like heavy boots. Thankfully, it does not take too long to find the building from his nightmares, whose neon sign at the doors has changed to ODDINARY. Inside, it is not difficult to find the first host, a handsome blue-haired man who frowns upon the newcomer, then shakes his head and mumbles “Lee Minho...”.

Felix stops counting the floors after some time, but is able to find more residents: the second one is Han Jisung, who waves at him and proceeds to check on his many wooden clocks, followed by Kim Seungmin, who takes his picture and handles him a heart-shaped cake, mumbling “Congratulations” in a monotonous tone. Lee Minho chases him in another room, raising the hockey stick and yelling “Fuckin’ finally!”.

The vintage couch and a moody Yang Jeongin are a soothing vision after those peculiar encounters. “Don’t stop now, Yongbok”, the boy says, pointing towards another door. “Hurry up and take the elevator.”

Although Felix has never seen the elevator in his dreams, he immediately understands why Jeongin suggested it. The longest corridor lays ahead, narrow and bathed in angry, red lights. At the end, there are metallic double doors signaling the only way out. Sighing, he resumes the journey.

Halfway there, though, Felix starts sensing a presence behind him and cautiously looks back. A bulking figure lingers at distance, staring right at him. Felix gives one step forward. So does the shadow.

“Yongbok-ah! I missed you!”, the man roars at the top of his lungs. A glitching sound ensues. “Yongbok-ah! I’m gonna crush you!”

Felix does not hesitate to run. His eyes go back to black, many voices at once shouting orders to his brain: “Don’t go there! Turn back! yoOU HAVE to bE A CITIZeeeN! I’M GONNA MAKE HER SUFFER, YOU DELIQUENT SHIT-”

“YONGBOK-AH! DON’T LISTEN TO THEM!”, the contradictory words keep reaching him, too, closer and edgier. “BE A MAN OF PRINCIPLES AND FACE ME!”

Felix stumbles, exhausted. His body collides against the metallic door and he punches the only button there, feeling like his head is going to break in half. Terrified, he watches the man still trying to reach him, his muscular body glitching and making his moves unnatural. It looks like something is interfering on his existence on that world.

“Yongbok-ah, you’re so brav- Yongbok-ah, you piece of shit!”, as his speech continues to be overwritten, he punches the wall and groans in frustration. “ENOUGH!”

The glitch subdues at the same time that the elevator doors open and Felix falls inside the elevator car. As the doors proceed to close, he can see the man few centimeters away, an apologizing expression softening his intense eyes. Even though he is still shocked, Felix recognizes that man would never hurt him.

The doors close, no indication of direction at sight, except for the glass panels on the back. It’s going up...

“This thing... I don’t like it.”

The blueish lights flicker, revealing at the next second a tall figure besides Felix. Black leather attire, icy blue eyes, bloody red hair. Felix feels the lock heavier on his hand.

“Did you make up your mind?”, the red-haired man enunciates every word in a smooth yet borderline dangerous intonation. His presence is so oppressive that Felix avoids eye contact.

“I did.”

“And you know what you are leaving behind?”

“Yes”, he tries no to think about the disappointment in your face when you wake up alone later.

“You can’t be a risk, Yongbok. You can’t desire an illusion made by them.”

“I know.”

“Good”, he lowers his voice, so close that Felix can feel his breath on his ear. “Now it is time...”

“For what?”

“To say good-bye”, with surprising strength, the red-haired man pushes him against the glass panels, a loud crashing sound filling the small space as his body goes through tiny fragments at high speed.

Felix is falling.

Too numb to comprehend what happened, his eyes meet the night sky where midnight blue is slowly being painted with purple hues. No end-of-life experience hits him, no sweet memories, nothing at all. His hand lets go of the lock, which is unlocked now. A red blur catches his attention, coming to him and catching his body in an embrace.

“We missed you”, he whispers warmly, welcoming an old and long waited friend.

Felix’s eyes flicker again, blue and green.

epilogue.

It’s a snowing morning.

You stir on the bed, feeling a nice soreness all over your body. What the hell happened?, you wonder, staring at the empty mattress. The apartment is quiet, no steps or the clanking of dishware indicating another human being there beside you. Whoever had been there was long gone.

Well, time to go home. Back to work, responsibilities, the boring and usual daily life.

You are about to leave when you notice the key on the table. After some consideration, you put it in your pocket.

Something tells you should keep it.

Just in case.

[eepster22]

Lockwood and Co. Headcanons: Lockwood Edition

No spoilers until 2nd half of post

He has ADHD and dyslexia

He's in love with Lucy, but like also sometimes I think he could be asexual.

High pain tolerance to physical stuff (stab wounds, burns, electrical chair torture, etc.) but is absolutely a baby when it comes to colds. Has the worst man flu anyone's ever seen

Is kinda vain tbh. If he gets injured the first thing he wants to know is if it will leave a cool scar or not

He knows when people are flirting with him but acts like he is oblivious.

He idolizes his family more than anything. This includes his current family of Lucy and George

Doesn't really have any hobbies that are unghost or unbusiness related, which is not healthy! He used to listen to his parents' research a lot though, and through them he also took an interest in historical weapons. However, since their deaths, it's been too painful for him to pursue those interests.

Related to the no hobbies thing, he'll follow Lucy and George around like a lost puppy when he's bored. George will often tell him to get lost though if he's researching something, so he'll end up following Lucy around more often. He can be a bit of an annoying puppy too, often distracting her from her sketches to get a rise out of her

He cannot cook. Dear lord he cannot cook to save his life. He is banned from the kitchen.

He also claims to be a fully qualified doctor, but he is also terrible at first aid.

He can play a musical instrument of some kind, maybe even multiple. I could see him playing piano or violin. If he plays piano, it's because his parents forced him to take lessons when he was younger. He didn't enjoy the lessons at the time, but after they passed, he found music to be cathartic. He mainly plays classical, moody songs. When George moved in, he stopped playing because he wasn't quite ready to share that vulnerable side of himself yet. He would sneak and play when he was sure both of them were out of the house. Maybe after season 1/The Whispering Skull Lucy or George could coax him to play in front of them. Same sort of thing if he plays violin.

He tells corny dad jokes. I cannot tell you why, but I just know that he does.

He can be pretty moody sometimes and that's when he'll just disappear outside for a few hours. However, he knows he's got this kind of mysterious persona, so if he hasn't disappeared in a while he'll just do it for the aesthetic 💅

He knew George from school he attended when he was younger, but he wasn't friends with him and honestly found him a bit weird. He ran into George right as he was fired from Fittes though, and recognizing his talent (and also the skull he stole) decided to let him stash the skull at his house and offered him a job where he could ask as many questions as he wanted to.

He's around 6ft tall, but he's pretty skinny so he's more agile than strong really.

Lockwood's favorite time of day is sunrise. He often has trouble sleeping, and he also needs blackout curtains to block all of the death glows of London at night. So, sometimes, he watches the sunrise in the morning. Watching the death glows fade to pure light gives him hope, but he'd never tell anyone else something so sentimental.

His friends are the only thing keeping him alive at this point. His worst fear is them dying, and his second worst fear is them leaving him. He would do anything for them.

He needs so much therapy oh my god. More than anyone else in the series

Spoilers for the books below here!!!

From the books we know he knew Flo as a young agent. She was one of the agents he looked up to, especially after she beat him in that fencing competition, but he would never tell her that until it was too late and she'd become a relic woman. They became friends once they related about the losses in their life, and she taught him a few rapier tricks for a few bags or licorice.

He feels really bad for Flo, but understands that there are some things you just can't get over, so he supports her decision to be in an illegal profession even though he thought Relic men were the scum of the earth like Lucy did when he was younger. At one point she started turning to drugs and alcohol unhealthily, so he put his foot down and basically forced her to stop because she was the only person he had in the world at that point and he couldn't stand the thought of losing anyone else.

His parents were gone on research trips a lot, leaving him in the care of Jessica, but he was so young that he still loved them even if he didn't get to see them that much. Jessica resented them some for leaving her alone to take care of Lockwood instead of raising the both of them. She was kind of a sister/mother figure for him and he loved her more than anyone.

Jessica was sweet, but she also got up to a lot of teenagery stuff that Lockwood didn't know about, like drinking and weed and boyfriends. Kipps was one of said boyfriends, and was over a lot to be with Jessica. Lockwood idolized him and complimented him lots, which kind of gave Kipps some of his ego. After Jessica died, Lockwood resented Kipps for not being there and for abandoning him too, while Kipps resented Lockwood for not protecting her. Jessica had some Touch, which allowed her to sort their parents' stuff, but otherwise she had no Sight or Listening or agent training.

He and Jessica used to make flower crowns.

He has no plans for after he loses his talent because he's basically 100% sure he won't make it that far. That is, until he learns the truth behind his parents' deaths and realize that their death wasn't meaningless and that he can live his life to make sure it wasn't. (And also he has his found family to live for)

Lockwood and Holly get along pretty well in a platonic way. Holly is his only friend that appreciates the finer things in life like he does.

I wish we knew more about Gravedigger Skyes but he's literally like. Never expounded upon except that his real name is Nigel. There was so much potential there Stroud come on. Anyways Gravedigger Skyes was a family friend who was like a cool uncle to Lockwood, so when Jess died and he had nowhere left to go Skyes took the boy in. He tried to connect with Lockwood emotionally, but Lockwood just shut him out. So, he did the only thing that made the boy happy: he trained him to kill ghosts.

If we wanted to make Lockwood's backstory super tragic, maybe Gravedigger Skyes died while protecting Lockwood on a case. However, I think it's equally likely Skyes is still alive, and Lockwood left his care when he got Portland Row back and started his own agency. Lockwood is so secretive he wouldn't even tell his friends he'd been stabbed, so I feel like it's in character for Skyes to still be alive and Lockwood just like. Doesn't mention him or invite him over.

After Lucy left in the Hollow Boy, Lockwood played whatever instrument it is that he plays moodily at night for hours on end. George doesn't even tell him to stop because his playing is beautiful and he misses Lucy too.

Ok I'm gonna stop here before this becomes too long, lemme know if you want more because I could probably come up with more for him. I also plan on doing Lucy and George too! These guys are my comfort characters and I just love them. My blorbos

[cellard0ors]

I don’t know if anyone asked you yet but I’ve seen others ask everyone else. Soooo… your top Hackearney fic reqs… pls? 🥺

I HAVE been asked this and I've sworn up and down to do this, but I've just been lazy as f*ck. HOWEVER today is the day!

So, strap in, y'all here are my hackearney fics recs!

Keep in mind, the authors here all have MULTIPLE works in this fandom/ship that are good, I'm just picking the ones I've specifically bookmarked and read.

There are also some I've heard are good and just haven't read yet (looking at you, Garden of Moonlit Grief) and there are others that I'm sure are fantastic, but are not my cup of tea (ie, noncons, fics that might be TOO dark, etc)

In other words, if I don't mention you and we talk I don't mean to hurt your feelings I love all of the Hackearney hivemind omggggg...

(these are also listed in no type of order)

Every Single Edge - E - Skymasters - A week after the events of The Quarry, Laura can't get a certain sheriff out of her mind. She pays him a visit.

So, this was the first fic I ever read with them and it was in character and super hot. It's also one of those fics I envy, because I wish I could convey things this insightfully in a one shot fic as opposed to the Tolstoy novel-length fics I write!

Late Bloomer - M - FanFicReader01 - Travis’ heart felt heavy. Sometimes, it felt like he was the only sane Hackett left and that could be seen as a stretch.

Another one of the first fics I read fics, I found this idea incredibly romantic and creative, but also very sad. It's not a happy ending kind of fic, but it hits well and I enjoyed it a great deal.

I Will Spin You Rose Evenings and Gold Mornings - E - TheWeirdDane - Laura Kearney is at the end of her rope when it comes to managing her finances for vet school. Contemplating various ways to earn some extra cash, she eventually turns to sex work, and goes on to meet with an older guy who will pay for her time and intimacy.

There's something about Sugar!Daddy fics. Rhink got me into it and this fandom is pushing me into it further. I really enjoy AUs - especially ones where Travis is softer but still a firm disciplinary - noice.

Werewolf Bites and Hot Summer Nights - E - winterlilyflowers - An AU in which Laura and Max can’t find Hackett Quarry and end up at the Harbinger Motel, before becoming camp counsellors for the summer. Max is moody and secretive and Laura keeps bumping into the grumpiest sheriff with the cutest puppy dog eyes, and when he gives her his number ‘just in case’ a girl can’t help but drunk dial him one night. Cue overprotective and jealous Travis. And shouldn’t the officer get a birthday kiss? An unlikely start for a badass werewolf fighting duo, but a hot one.

Listen, if you're part of the fandom and a shipper and haven't read this, I don't know how to help you. It's so damn good. I re-read one, ah, scene in particular...it involves Travis's cruiser and being outside and...yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaah. 👀

I LEGIT re-read that scene last night! but the entire fic is good. Again, I'm a big AU fan and I like the idea of how the game might have gone with little changes, so, this one fits that bill and then some. The Travis/Laura snark is also there as well, so - love it,

Caged - E - Gaqalesqua - Laura Kearney did not expect to spend her summer locked up by a creepy cop. Travis Hackett forgot that human beings have needs even when they're in prison.

This is one of those fics that has no right to be as hot as it is. I felt like the author really nailed Laura's voice too - they also get Travis, but since a lot of it is from Laura's POV, it's just really spectacular to me how well they got inside her noggin.

Also have to admire a fic that starts out just hot and then gets deep and makes you emotional.

Family - M - Tianasina - Laura sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the number on her phone’s screen. Her hand shook as she held her phone. She glanced briefly at the object clutched in her other hand. She sucked in a panicked breath and looked back at the phone, pushing her other hand out of her vision. Her thumb hovered over the green dial icon before shakily pressing down upon it. Dialing Travis…Laura needs help, Travis is willing to help.

I was legit surprised by how much I enjoyed this. Maybe I shouldn't have been, considering how domestic it gets, but honestly - not usually a fan of baby fics. But Travis with a baby is heart melting and I like how organically his relationship with Laura grows. A fun sweet read.

No Hard Feelings - E - Professional_Creeper - Travis had been having trouble staying hard while masturbating, but it was just stress from dealing with the curse. It was just because his hand wasn't exciting. With a woman as beautiful and alive as Laura writhing beneath him, he would be fine...

Listen, someone was GOING to have to write an ED fic for this ship and I'm glad this person did, because they nailed it and made it so genuine and heartfelt but also still sexy as fuck??? I couldn't pull this off - and I always admire those who can do what I cannot. And boy did they do it with gusto - this is like, give them a prize! fic. I would if I could!

Love Me Under The Neon Lights (If Only For The Night) - E - @spookyscaryscully - Travis could think of a thousand different places he wanted to be on his night off. A strip club was not one of them. AKA: The Hackearney Stripper AU.

Someone who has a LOT of irons in a LOT of AU fires and they're all burn hot, but I'm choosing this one because I just really love the whole solid idea of it. And, again, sucker for a soft!Travis!

There's just a lot of great work here - this idea could have just been sold as a silly thing but instead there's some distinctive depth. Love it.

Warmth - M-False_Mortal - A litter of kittens and their mother were dumped in front of the police station. Travis takes them in because it’s snowing and he maybe has a heart. Laura is a veterinarian assistant at the local shelter, where she sometimes works the front desk.

Travis, Laura, Cats - all things I like and in one place. SOLD. It's also just heartwarming and cute, but still with delectable sexytimes. Also, again, an AU and I adore AUs!!

Dear Friend - M - lovemeforallmyfaults - A new substitute professor settles in at her new job, with the help of a friend she meets in the college forums. A tenured professor tries to open up to someone other than his close relations. (aka - the You’ve Got Mail Set In College AU absolutely no one asked for)

Um - I think EVERY fandom should have a You've Got Mail AU?!? And luckily this writer rose to the challenge! It's fun to see Travis and Laura spar in a completely different environment but still feel like them. Not to mention, I again adore the whole concept of letters and not knowing it was you and so, yeah - love this!

Pass Me The Shotgun (And I'll Hand You My Heart) - E - @norrington-hell - Sometimes the best way to deal with your trauma is to see a therapist. And sometimes it's to find the surly bastard responsible and rock his goddamn world. Laura knows which option she prefers.

I already did a whole post about this, but - shut up. THIS FIC. I both love it and hate it. THIS IS NOT A BAD THING. I love it, because it's probably one of the best written things I've ever read. I hate it. because when I read new chapters or re-read it, I feel this overwhelming seething jealousy towards Norrie and her talent, when I know I should be a good girl!

I - for the life of me - have a hard time writing conflict and super!mean Travis and bratty!Laura and Norrie just strolls up to the bar and is shooting bullseye's left and right and blind folded for it like it's no big thang.

Her world is so rough and real and not at all sugar coated. It's not easy, so, when things go well for these two, it feels so EARNED. UGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! Take me out of this club, I'm DYIIIIINNNNG.

...in conclusion, I will always recommend this fic forever and always and it's probably a staple of how you should approach writing them.

Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo yeah - here you are anon and anyone interested! If you follow me and one of these fics are yours and I didn't know your tumblr name because I'm smart-like-that (tm) please let me know so I can tag you properly!

[football-and-fanfics]

Moody - Robert Lewandowski

Who: Robert Lewandowski Request: Hey there! I just saw your new prompts and was ecstatic to see Lewa on your list! So, can I have whichever's available of 2, 13, and 17 with him? Have a lovely day 💐 Prompt #17: Moody Requested by: @nyctophilic0vitnir Warnings: none A/N: prompt number 17 was still available, so I wrote that one

The whole team immediately knew Robert’s mood was far below zero today. From the moment he arrived at Bayern's training centre for that morning’s team meeting, he wasn’t his usual self. Where he usually greeted everyone with a big smile and a joke, they were now only greeted with a sullen, “morning.” Robert slumped down in a chair in the club's meeting room. He folded his arms across his chest and remained silent. “You alright, Lewy?” Manuel raised an eyebrow at him. “No, it’s not my day today,” Robert grumbled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in such a bad mood before.” Benjamin sat down next to Robert. “I’m treating you to a first, then,” Robert grunted back. Benjamin laughed quietly at the reply. “And what exactly is causing this mood?” Manuel asked carefully. “My wife was up sick most of the night, I haven’t slept much, I have a headache,” Robert summed up, “do you need me to go on?” “Yeah, that’s tough,” Benjamin agreed. "And, don't get me wrong, I'm happy to care for my wife when she's sick, but it means a broken night and apparently I don't do those that well anymore." Robert passed a hand over his tired face. "Is she at least feeling better?" Benjamin enquired. "Yeah, she's doing better, thanks," Robert nodded, "probably something she ate." “Well, luckily for you, boss is doing a presentation today,” Manuel announced cheerily, “all you have to do, is sit and listen.” Robert yawned and settled a little lower in his chair. “Sounds fantastic.” Tags: @glam-khal, @evie-pr, @gryffinwars, @auawdo, @meteora-fc, @de-geas, @stonesyyyy, @drizzyreese, @hbstre, @soccerfanfiction, @sternennebel2001, @celessence If you would like to be added to the tags list, too, you can fill out this form and I'll add you to it! Click here for more of my Robert Lewandowski imagines.

[fortuositywritings]

I Said No (Wanda x R): Pt 5

Pt 1,  Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, House Map

Summary: Movie theater, Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, and the county fair

“We can come back to get the rest. I don’t understand why you’re doing that.”

Wanda watches you struggle trying to carry everything you brought from the store but two bags that Wanda herself is carrying. 

“Because, my young Padawanda, it is one of the most important rules of the Jedi Code. One must never make a second trip to the car lest he be a nerd.”

“Oh my gosh! Have you seen Star Wars?” You and Wanda turn your heads towards the porch where Sam and Peter reside. Peter runs down to you in excitement. “Which ones have you seen?”

“Only like all of them!” you answer, just as excited as Peter to have someone else here who likes the movies. Laura finds them boring, Clint thinks they’re too long, and Nat says she’s not a child. You tried watching them with Cooper and Lila but they fell asleep halfway through. So no one can blame you for getting excited. Unfortunately, the little bounce that accompanied your answer causes a few things to slip from your arms, but Peter, given his incredible reflexes, catches them all before they touch the ground. “The force is strong with this one,” you tell him.

“And a second trip is what makes you a nerd.” Sam mumbles under his breath on his way over to help by taking the bags from Wanda. “What’s on your neck?” He asks her. Her hand flies up to her neck only to find it sticky.

“It’s what happens when you mess with a Jedi,” you answer for her in a silly voice making Peter laugh. You also make Wanda blush as she recalls how it happened, but you don’t see this since you and Peter are already making your way to the house. Sam, however, does notice Wanda’s face and recognizes that look, leaving him stumped. Wanda only snaps out of her trance when the door closes behind you and Peter. 

“I don’t get it,” he says to Wanda. “What is it about her? Is it the confidently flirty but still kind of geeky thing that does it for you ladies?”

Wanda, embarrassed at being caught, heads to the house ignoring Sam’s questions. She can still hear him as he yells after, “Don’t walk away! I need to know if nerds are the thing now!”

Sam catches her in the kitchen along with you and Peter putting things you bought where they’re meant. Instead of asking Wanda anything, he turns his questions to you and Peter, who you all find out has a girlfriend now. Sam guesses his “nerds are in” theory correct based on that and soon he is agreeing to watch Star Wars with you, Peter, and Wanda. He threw Wanda a subtle wink when neither you nor Peter were looking as if to say ‘you’re welcome’ for including her in those plans. Clint, coming in from the side door, catches the ending of that conversation and groans. 

“No! Laura! Peter and Y/N found an interest they can both be annoying about,” he goes to complain to his wife. Later though, he as well as everyone else joins you to watch the movie. You and Peter thoroughly answer all of Sam and Pietro’s questions and hush everyone at your favorite parts, mouthing the lines along with the scene. Wanda ends up not watching the movie anymore but watching you and she begins to wonder if maybe Sam was right.

***

“How much longer?” you find yourself asking the next morning trying not to sound as out of breath as you are. You’ve been jogging for you don’t know how long now but it feels way longer than what Nat had promised it would be when she woke you up at six in the morning.

“Another mile,” she answers, no sign of struggle in her voice as if this is a cakewalk. You suppose it is for her since she’s had to slow down numerous times for you to catch up.

“Another mile?!”

“Hey, you said you would keep up today,” Nat reminds you.

“You know you can’t trust anything I say during my haven’t-had-caffeine-yet hours. Don’t I get points for trying?”

“Like your little green friend says, ‘Do or do not, there is no try’,” Nat retorts.

“I knew you were paying attention last night!” You increase your pace to jog beside her. “You can act too tough to like Star Wars all you want around everyone else, but I’ll always know the truth.” You can see her shake her head from the corner of your eye. You don’t say anything for a moment, but being one who cannot let the quiet linger too long, as Tanya would attest to, you speak up. “So, how’s your little green friend doing?”

You turn your head for a second to show Nat you were genuinely looking for an answer and in the next she’s practically running away from you. She went fast but not quick enough for you to miss the little redness creeping up on her cheeks. You have never in your years of knowing her seen her blush before. You have seen her sweat after a sparring match with Clint, get a bit of a sunburn, and get so angry she looked like she would pop a vein, but not one of those times were her cheeks turning a rosy color. Aww, Romanov’s in love. Once you’ve come to that conclusion, you go to tease her. Wait, where did she go?

“You asshole!” You yell at Nat who you finally find casually leaning on the car door watching you storm up to her. It took you an hour to find the car after losing the trail you were on trying to find Natasha. She doesn’t even flinch as she reaches over and pulls a twig out of your hair. “What happened to you?”

“You left me!” You huffed, walking around to the passenger side while Nat got in the driver seat unfazed. Truth be told, after 30 minutes without any sign of Nat, you thought she was putting you through some kind of test. You were getting paranoid, so it’s not surprising you took a tumble when you swiftly tried to avoid an attack from what turned out to be a squirrel running up a tree. But you’ll just keep that to yourself forever.

You head straight to the shower when you get to the house ignoring the morning greetings from those you pass on the way. “What’s up with her?” Sam asks Nat in the living room. “She hasn’t had her caffeine yet.”

You let the shower wash away your moodiness which, you can admit to yourself alone, stemmed for the most part from embarrassing yourself. Afterwards, you head to the kitchen ready to eat whatever everyone had for breakfast, but come up empty. You guess they’d finished all of it if the plates and pan left out to dry say anything. You open the fridge looking for something to eat. Maybe there is something in there you can heat up. Unlike Laura, Wanda, and self proclaimed chef Pietro, you cannot cook to save your life. 

“What’s cooking, good looking?” Speak of the devil. Maybe he can make you something? You know all it would take is some batting of the eyelashes and a compliment. No, Wanda said no. But there is nothing in the fridge to heat up and you were hungry. Wanda would surely understand it was for the greater good, right? Already breaking the first rule, I see.

Caught red handed, you look over Pietro’s shoulder to see Wanda walking into the kitchen to join you two. She’s raising her eyebrows at you waiting for an answer. 

“Okay, new rule,” you say. Pietro is confused at what he assumes is your response until he sees that you aren’t talking to him. “No more reading my mind,” you say sternly, pointing at Wanda. 

Pietro smirks. “Yeah, I don’t need you to hear what goes on Y/N’s mind when she is thinking about me,” he says to Wanda. Both you and Wanda roll your eyes. “Sam is asking for you outside,” is all she says to him and off he goes with a groan.You groan as well, the chance of getting someone to make you food leaving with him.

“You could have just asked me, you know?” Wanda says, leaning against the sink. 

“I thought I said no mind reading,” you remind her. She chuckles when you close the refrigerator door and hit your head against it in defeat.

“I wasn’t,” she defends. “I was serious when I said he can’t cook. I may have saved you from food poisoning.”

“Maybe, but I would have been full and happy for a moment. Since you chased away my shot at food, I think you should make it up to me by making me some breakfast,” you try, leaning against the fridge.

“Oh? I should, should I?” You nod confidently thinking it might just work, but she tears that thought away when she continues, “Cause I remember you still needing to make it up to me when you didn’t buy the ice creams.”

You frown, “I thought you’d forgotten about that.” She smiles, with nose scrunch and all, shaking her head. “Fine, you want to go to the fair? I’ll take you to the fair tomorrow!”

“A fair? I want to go!” you hear Cooper shout. He is coming in through the back door with Lila who looks just as excited and with Nat who does not. You ignore Nat’s face when you tell Cooper that you can all go to the fair. He and Lila run off in excitement to tell the others. Nat glares at you as she takes a seat at the kitchen table. 

“See,” you turn to Wanda. “Now I have to take you for sure. Make me some food now, please,” you beg her, drawing out the word please. She squints her eyes like she’s thinking about it and then, “Only because you asked so nicely.” 

“Thank you,” you throw her a huge smile at which Wanda rolls her eyes.

“But if you are going to be here,” she says pushing you away from the fridge, “you are going to help. You’ve got to learn how to cook for yourself.” And you do just that. You nod along intently listening to all her instructions, not wanting to miss a thing. Sometimes you’d interrupt to make a joke and when one is about her brother, she playfully punches you. You are so immersed in your little bubble, you forget Nat is not too far away watching your interaction with curiosity. She has you try the food first and you could almost moan. You notice a blush creeping up on Wanda’s face and suddenly she’s avoiding your eyes.The food is so good and you were so hungry that maybe you did let out a little noise of satisfaction. Before you could say anything, another voice interrupts, “What’s this I hear about a fair?”

You turn slowly recognizing the tone your cousin uses. It’s the who-made-these-plans-without-asking-me-first tone. You smile at Laura, mouth full of food. You see Nat point at you but Laura was already looking at you. “Yeah, I think she knows it was me, Natasha.”

***

A few uneventful hours go by and you are bored out of your mind. You have a sudden urge to go out seeing as the sun was still shining. You pull out your phone having an idea of what to do to kill some time. You scroll through your phone to see what movies are playing at the only movie theater in town. You see that the next showing is for a horror movie. 

“Do you like scary movies?” you turn to the group playing Uno in the living room. Pietro gets up in excitement when you mention going to the movie theater. Sam agrees to come as well and drags Peter out the door when Peter wants to stay claiming it’s to keep the kids company. You are about to head out with everyone but you notice Wanda still sitting on the couch. You wait for her to get up when Pietro says, “Yeah, good luck with that. She’s too chicken to watch scary movies.”

Wanda, offended, gets up quickly from the couch, “Am not. I just think they’re boring.”

“Sure,” Pietro chuckles as he heads out the door.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” you tell her. You think she is going to stay, but she starts heading out the door to the car. 

“You sure that’s not enough butter, Y/N?” Peter asks you when he sees how much butter he’s already put in the bucket at your insistence. He can feel some of it through the bucket already. 

“Fine, that’s good. You grab some napkins. I’ll hold the bucket,” you tell him after you see his eyebrows scrunch. You all go to the designated room and pick a row to sit in having pretty much any seat you want since it was practically empty. You sit down next to Peter and notice Pietro’s eyes falling to the empty seat on your other side. He aims to sit next to you but his sister who was sitting next to Peter before beats him to it. He throws her a confused look as he shuffles his way down to sit in her abandoned seat. “Real subtle there, Wanda,” you say, amused more than anything.

“I can see the screen better from here.” You let her bad excuse slide and turn to the screen as the movie begins to play. Between you, Peter, and Pietro, the popcorn is gone in record time. The jumpscares begin halfway through the movie. Peter holds the empty bucket as a safety blanket which you find adorable. You don’t even know if Wanda is watching the movie. She’s got her eyes somewhat hidden behind her fingers. You want to tease her, so you reach to take her fingers away from her face, but another jumpscare happens and she takes your hand in her free one. You feel her squeeze the life out of your hand in anticipation of another jumpscare. 

Your palm begins to sweat and you start to feel uncomfortable with all the butter on your fingers, so you slip your hand out from hers. She turns to you in question. “Sorry, my hand’s full of butter,” you whisper. She reaches over you to ask Peter something. Without a word, she leans back in her seat with napkins in her hand and cleans all the butter off your hand before taking it in hers once more, this time interlacing your fingers. She turns her focus back to the movie. You feel you should just do the same, so you follow her actions. You let her hold your hand for the rest of the movie until the lights come back up.

Wanda shouldn’t have watched that movie. It is much too dark in the bedroom. It is much too quiet. She can hear Nat’s soft breathing from beside her. The silhouettes of various items around the room are creeping her out. She doesn’t think she is going to be sleeping any time soon. Maybe some tea will help. She gets up quietly trying not to wake Nat, but when she’s at the door, Nat asks, “Where are you going?”

“The bathroom,” Wanda lies easily. She’d rather not let Nat know that she couldn’t sleep because of some scary movie. What kind of superhero would that make her? As she heads downstairs, she wonders if you were still awake. She turns down the hallway to peek into the living room and sure enough you were still awake watching television. She walks over to you behind the couch. “What are you watching?” she asks. You feel your soul leave your body not having heard her approach. She giggles as she walks around to sit next to you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, just warn a girl next time.” She turns her attention to the show. “It’s Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. It’s really good. I used to watch it with Laura when she would babysit while my mom was at work. Some of the jokes I wouldn’t even understand but I’d laugh ‘cause she was laughing,” you reminisce. 

“You and her are very close.”

“Yeah, well, she’s practically the only family I have. My mom passed not so long ago and seeing as there was never a dad in my family picture, my aunt and uncle took me in. I don’t have any siblings and neither does Laura so, she’s kind of it.” You add, “Well, apart from Clint, Nat, and the kids of course.”

Another two scenes go by on the show before you ask, “Did you have a nightmare or could you not fall asleep?”

Wanda looks down embarrassed so you add, “I promise I’m not teasing. I’m just asking.”

“I couldn’t sleep. It was too quiet and dark and Natasha was already asleep, so I thought I would come down here,” she replies.

“Oh, so you thought I would definitely put you to sleep. Wow, I don’t see how this friendship is going to work if you think I bore you to sleep,” you tease. Upon seeing her tired smile, you take pity and pat your thighs and gesture for her to lie down. “Come here.”

When she lays her head on your lap, you begin running your fingers through her hair. You hear her yawn and a few minutes later you find her sound asleep. Careful not to wake her, you reach over to the blanket you were meant to use on you and throw it over her body instead. Another two episodes play before you fall asleep.

***

You wake up once again with a sore neck and you feel that your body might be as well, but when you remember the reason, you don’t find it in yourself to complain. You look around prepared to see Nat in gym clothes holding a coffee cup but you find the living room empty apart from you and Wanda. You look out the window and see the sun is barely about to rise. Surprised to have woken up before anyone else, you decide to make the most of it but you are quickly sidetracked getting distracted by Wanda’s sleeping form. “I can feel you staring,” she says, her voice husky which you try hard not to find attractive. She turns her head to look up at you with sleepy eyes. “Friends don’t do that.”

“I was not staring. I was admiring,” you respond. “And friends can admire their friends.”

“Well mine don’t the way you do.” 

“Ain’t that a shame.” You boop her nose with your finger making her scrunch her nose.

“They do, however, let me sleep,” she jokes. She turns her head back as if she was to go back to sleep and you decide this might be the best time to get up. You gently lift her head from your lap and swivel your body off the couch. “Where are you going?” she whines, when you place a pillow under her head.

“I am going to wake Nat up for once in my life,” you reply with determination. You stretch and shake your legs trying to get the feeling back in them.

“Good luck with that,” is the last thing Wanda says before closing her eyes and going back to sleep. You head to the kitchen to start the coffee pot and then make your way upstairs. Luckily, the door was left open so you don’t make any noise on your way in. You tiptoed your way to Natasha and bent down so your face was eye level to hers. You honestly can’t believe you’ve made it this far since she is the lightest sleeper. This is the spy they chose for the Avengers? You giggle to yourself imagining the face Nat is going to make when you scare her. Oh, if they could see her now…they would be satisfied with their choice, you think as you try to choke out, “Uncle. Uncle.” Nat somehow has you in a choke hold and you are tapping furiously on her arm. Once she realizes it’s you she lets go.

“Y/N, what the hell! I could have hurt you!” she yells at you as you’re coughing. You stare at her unbelievably, rubbing at your neck, and once you can speak again you say, “Then what was this to you? Some light foreplay?”

Once you both settle down, she realizes you were up before her. You take some exercise attire out for yourself from your luggage. You might not like to exercise but gym clothes are sure comfy to lie around in. “You gotta keep up, Natasha. You don’t want the boss man to catch you slacking. Oh, I’m also making coffee so don’t worry about that.”

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing. You smile in turn. “I don’t know what you mean. I’ll catch you downstairs.”

You leave her to change and head downstairs with your clothes. You go to the kitchen first and make two cups of coffee. Then you go to the restroom to change. After she finishes changing, Nat goes to the kitchen and sees you were not kidding. Natasha takes her cup of coffee to the living room as she always does and finds Wanda asleep on the couch. She sighs as things start adding up. She guesses this is the reason for the lack of a grumpy attitude from you so early in the morning. She wants to say something but Nat would rather take a motivated Y/N over Y/N complaining every five minutes on their hike. So, she doesn’t say anything for now.

You actually keep up with Nat this time and to top it off you don’t talk too much like you always do. Nat thinks it’s because you're in a good mood giving you motivation, but the reason for keeping her pace and keeping quiet is your fear she’ll leave you again if you say something to set her off and lose her like yesterday. Nat even goes as far as giving you a compliment at the end. Well, semi-compliment, but her “Not too bad, Y/N”s are few and far between so you return to the house feeling proud of yourself.

This time you’re the one saying good morning to everyone when you enter. You see a few of them still eating breakfast in the kitchen. You hope there will still be leftovers by the time you come back down after showering. Knowing how some of the guys eat, it is going to have to be a quick shower. Laura sees you eyeing the food and says, “Don’t worry, we saved you a plate.” And here you thought Wanda was the mind reader. “Wanda told us you were grumpy yesterday from not catching breakfast so we made sure to make more.” That explains it. You smile, happy someone kept you in mind. Now you can shower in peace. You thank her and head upstairs.

“You saw that, right?” Laura turns to Clint and Nat who walked in not too long before you left.

“She’s been like that all morning. Not one ‘Are we done yet?’ or ‘Why do you hate me, Natasha?’ on our hike,” Nat replies in a hushed tone as if it’s so unlike you to be agreeable in the morning. 

“Do you think it has anything to do with a certain somebody?” Laura felt the need to ask.

“Well she didn’t just find a love for exercise,” Nat sarcastically says.

Clint sighs, “Do you think we have to talk to her again?” 

Nat goes to respond, but Laura cuts off whatever Nat was going to say, “No, if anyone is going to talk to her, it’s me. And it’s not going to be some crappy ‘no dating’ rule type of conversation. You two are great when it comes to getting someone to talk with your intimidation, but save that for your job, which speaking of, Wanda is your coworker, so you may want to talk to her as well if you had to talk to Y/N because last I remember it takes two to tango.”

Nat and Clint stare at Laura in shock, embarrassment and guilt rightfully taking over their bodies. “Are we clear?” Laura asks them though it’s more of a statement leaving no room for argument. 

“Yes.” “Yeah.”

Upstairs, you make your way to the guest room to grab some clothes. Wanda is sitting on the bed reading her book. She is still dressed in her pyjamas, which makes you smile. The sound of her turning the page shakes you from your thoughts and saves you from staring a bit too long. Wanda smirks without bothering to look away from her book and you know she caught you.

“Morning, I’m just gonna get some clothes,” you explain as you move to where your bag is. Wanda speaks up while you zip your duffle closed, “I’m sorry for bothering you last night.”

“Come on, Wanda. You could never be a bother,” you say sincerely, giving her a smile that she shyly returns. “Alright, the shower is calling my name.”

“Yeah, I can hear it screaming,” she jokes and laughs when you take mock offense, “Hey!” She goes back to reading when she sees you heading out the door but you call her attention once more, “Oh! Thanks for telling them to save me a plate.”

“Of course,” she replies like it wasn’t even worth mentioning. You nod at her and then go to shower, closing the guest room door behind you.

A few seconds later, the door opens up again and Wanda amusedly says, her eyes never straying from the page she’s reading, “Did the shower call the wrong name?”

“No, it was definitely calling Y/N’s and mine too, I’m sure, but I wanted to talk to you first.”

Wanda’s head diverts to the door at Nat’s voice. 

“And you needed back up for it?” Wanda looks over to Clint who awkwardly stands behind Nat.

Clint clears his throat, “Well it was only fair if Y/N got both of us, you did too.”

Wanda straightens her posture as she places her book beside her. “Ah, so this is about Y/N. I had a feeling.”

Nat and Clint come into the room, Clint closing the door behind him. Nat goes to sit on the end of the bed and Clint stands behind her. “Look, we were wrong to tell Y/N what to do or rather not do. She is an adult and has the right to do whatever she wants, but you have to understand she’s someone who tends to get ahead of herself and we didn’t- we don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Nat starts.

“So you’re saying she is getting ahead of herself with me? That what? Come two weeks, she’ll realize she doesn’t want me?” Wanda starts to get visibly upset.

“No, that’s not what-” Clint tries to speak but Wanda is not done talking. “Even if that was the case, it would be her choice. It would be my choice.”

“Wanda, you are not going to be here in two weeks. You are not going to be here in a few days,” Natasha calmly says trying to reason. “Look, we love Y/N, okay? But she often finds herself making mistakes-”

“So I would just be another mistake? 

“No, you would be a dangerous one,” Nat says trying to get something through to Wanda.

“I would never hurt her.”

“No, maybe not intentionally,” Nat continues, and when Wanda looks like she is going to argue, Clint interrupts, “Wanda, just let her finish.” Wanda takes a breath to calm herself down and then nods for Natasha to carry on.

“Being in our lives more than she has to could get her hurt. Even this morning, I hurt her when she was probably just trying to play some stupid prank. Being around us is dangerous. Why do you think Clint kept all this a secret,” Nat motions around the room. “Why do you think I was so upset about her and Yelena? Why do you think we haven’t said anything to Y/N before? Those other girls aren’t you. Those other girls aren’t Yelena. I don’t even know where she is right now. We live different lives. Say things do work out with Y/N. Much like I don’t know where my sister is, there will be times she won’t have a clue where you are or if you’re okay. When Clint and I say we don’t want anyone to get hurt, it goes both ways.”

“Wan, have you seen my blue shirt with the buttons?” Pietro storms into the room like a man on a mission, not even bothering to acknowledge Nat and Clint are in the room as well. “I know I packed it.” Not until he reads the hurt in Wanda’s eyes does he read the room and like the protective sibling he is, he is quick to get defensive. “What’s happening here?”

Her brother’s interruption could not have come at a better time. Wanda didn’t know how to respond to Nat’s explanation. She was feeling herself choke up, Vision’s voice springing in her head again. She’s happy to have Pietro here so willing to jump in to defend her but she doesn’t want to drag him into it, so she clears her throat and says, “Nothing. We were just talking.” He still looks unsure, so she gets up from the bed and offers, “I’ll help you look for it.” Her eyes plead for him to let it go. Luckily, he does and heads out the door.  Clint and Nat watch Pietro leave and Wanda stop by the door. “You don’t have to worry. Y/N made it clear to me that we’re just friends,” she says in defeat, then turns to follow her brother.

“Well, that went well,” Clint says sarcastically. 

Wanda spends the next two hours helping Sam, Peter, and Pietro get ready. She helps Sam pick an outfit first seeing as he was the first to shower. She has to pry one of Peter’s t-shirts from his hands saying he’s twice Peter’s size and he cannot pull the nerdy look. She helps Peter next. It’s mostly just styling his hair he needs help with. At last she helps her brother after having knocked on the bathroom door four different times telling him to hurry up. 

“How does the one with superspeed take an hour in the shower?” Sam asks rhetorically. Sam, Wanda, and Peter are on the bed in Cooper’s room watching Pietro straighten out his shirt.

“Hey, it takes time to look this good,” Pietro says as he fixes his collar. All three of them nearly roll their eyes. “Do you think Y/N will like this shirt?”

“Yeah, if it was on Wanda, maybe,” Sam snorts. Peter holds back a chuckle while Wanda tries not to react. 

“You look nice,” Wanda says, not wanting to tear down her brother’s confidence. Everyone’s attention is drawn to the closed door when someone knocks. They hear you ask if you can come in. Pietro responds, “One second.” He goes to lean against Cooper’s desk casually and all three on the bed try really hard not to laugh. Peter has to shove his face in a pillow. “Okay, come in.”

You let yourself into the room, your eyes falling on Wanda immediately. “Not that you don’t look nice in them, but do you really plan on wearing your pjs to the fair?” you tease her. “I mean, you’ll for sure be turning heads, if that’s the plan.” 

She replies, “I was waiting on the shower. Someone was taking their time.” She points her head in Pietro’s direction who gives you a nod in acknowledgement and a “‘sup?” Sam’s mouth forms a line trying so hard not to laugh out loud. Peter’s face stays hidden behind the pillow but you can see from the side of his neck his face was getting red. You feel like you walked in at the wrong time given everyone’s behavior. You tell Wanda, “You might want to hurry. Clint says we’re leaving soon.” With that you turn to leave wondering what you had walked in on. 

When you shut the door, everyone in Cooper’s room excluding Pietro bursts out laughing.

“What the hell was that, man?” Sam asks between fits of laughter.

Peter gets up and leans against the desk to mimic Pietro, “‘Sup?” Everyone laughs again, Pietro leaning over to slap Peter in the back of the head.

***

They take the family car and Nat’s car to the fair. Sam and Peter ride with Nat while the rest of you ride with Clint driving. As you wait in line to buy tickets, you lean over Wanda’s shoulder, who is standing right in front of you with her back to you, and say “I meant to say this earlier but you look nice.”

She smiles and then turns around to face you as you take a step back. She jokes, “I thought I looked good in my pyjamas but someone implied it wasn’t appropriate for the fair.”

“Oh definitely not appropriate. It was way too sexy. We couldn’t have that around the children,” you reply making her giggle.

“You don’t look too bad either,” she returns the earlier compliment, taking in your outfit as you shuffle forward with the rest of the line. “Your outfit is very nice.”

“Oh, this. I just threw it together.” No, you didn’t. You took your time with it. “But thanks,” you wave her off. When you reach the ticket stand, you rush in front of Clint to pay for yours, Wanda’s, Laura’s, Nat’s, and the kids’ tickets. You explain to him when you are all walking together that you kind of owed Wanda for something and you were the one who promised to take the kids here much to Nat and Laura’s displeasure so you kind of owed them too. 

You make it inside the fairgrounds. A giant banner that reads “WESTVIEW COUNTY FAIR!” greets you overhead. Everyone gets excited upon seeing the banner and all the lights in the background. Well, everyone but Nat and Laura, Nat not ever a big fan of fairs and Laura not a fan of taking care of kids at a fair. Out of all the lights shining on the fairgrounds, your favorite is the one shining through Wanda’s eyes as she takes everything in with wonder. 

“So what do you want to do first?” you ask her.

She turns to you and almost looks embarrassed. “I don’t know. I’ve never been to a fair.”

“What?” you ask in shock. She shrugs not knowing what else she could say. “Well, it’s settled then. We are not leaving until you get the whole experience. Let’s go buy some wristbands for the rides. We are going on every single one.” Her eyes widen and the wonder in them from earlier shifts into nervousness. “It’ll be fun, come on,” you reassure as you drag her to another line, leaving everyone else behind. 

You and Wanda get on every ride but the ferris wheel telling her you have to leave that one for last. You even ride some twice, but you get hungry and ask Wanda if she wants to eat yet. She agrees that she could take a break for food. You try various things the fair offers wanting Wanda to try everything. “You Americans like to fry anything you can,” she comments as she takes another bite of her fried oreo. She hums as she finishes it off. “I understand why,” she says, making you laugh. 

You spot Laura and Nat sitting at a table near the stage where some band is playing music. You and Wanda head on over. Soon everyone regroups there, finishing off the food they bought and watching people dance. Clint pulls Laura to dance with him. You all sit at the table watching them with a smile when someone obstructs your view of them. You look up to see a tall guy in a black cowboy hat smiling down at Wanda beside you offering his hand out asking her to dance. She looks at you, unsure of what to say. You give her a smile that admittedly took you a second to form and nod encouragingly for her to accept. She smiles politely at him and takes his hand. You watch them dance, your eyes only ever straying when you see Wanda going to look at you. You watch when he leans down to tell her something in her ear and she laughs. You wonder what he told her that was so funny. Your eyes roam over him. He’s handsome, you’ll give him that. He has a nice face, good posture. You note he is also respectful with his hand placement when dancing, so you can appreciate that. It seems like Westview County has their own Steve Rodgers. The thought bugs you.

Someone blocks your view once again, only this time you are kind of thankful for it. You look up to see Pietro asking you to dance. “Why not?” you say, wanting to do anything rather than stare at Wanda dancing with some guy. He pulls you to the dance floor. You enjoy your time dancing with Pietro though you get dizzy from how quickly he spins you. You’re a little disappointed your dance is cut short when Lila taps your arm asking if she can dance with Pietro. You smile at her saying of course she can. With your distraction gone to dance with Lila, your eyes search for Wanda once more but you cannot seem to find her. You feel someone grab your hand and you are spun into that someone’s arms. Your eyes fall to familiar green ones and you smile, “Smooth moves, Maximoff.”

“Thank you,” she says with a smile as she starts to sway with you to the music. “You let me dance with a stranger.”

“You’re dancing with me now and we were strangers not so long ago,” you rebuttal. 

“But at least we know each other’s names.”

“Did you not get his name?” you ask.

“I never asked for it,” Wanda returns simply, shrugging. You find it hard to believe that his name never came up so you say, “That was a lot of talking for him to not have given you a name.”

“You saw us talking? I would not have guessed you were paying attention. Every time I looked at you, you turned to look away,” she teases you.

You swallow, choking on the embarrassment of getting caught. “Doesn’t matter. His name’s probably Brad or something. He looks like a Brad.”

She laughs then catching on to your tone she asks, “Y/N, are you jealous?” 

“What? Me, jealous?” you ask, astonished. She nods, smiling like she has her answer. “Wanda, I could never be jealous of some Brad. Dance with a Marcus and then maybe, but a Brad? Pfft. No.”

She just laughs and pulls you closer. You let yourself go and dance with her until whatever song the band is playing ends. “Let’s go play some games. I feel like shooting something,” you say, making her laugh loudly. 

Everyone decides to play with you as well so you all head over to the different stands. Nat wins the shooting game, Clint coming in close. He wins the popping the balloons with darts game. They give their prizes to Cooper and Lila. Peter and Sam spend some time with the hammer and bell game; Peter hitting the bell every time garners some attention especially from some girls which frustrates Sam. Pietro wins a fish when he plays ring toss. It seems like everyone but you has been winning something. Even Wanda won a stuffed panda she gave to Lila after playing a water shooting game. You were getting frustrated trying to knock some blocks off a stool. You’ve spent a good $20 on this game already. Wanda catching your frustration decides to help you out. When you are down to your last ball, you try your best to focus and throw the ball. Two of the three blocks fall down. The last one is teetering on the edge. You think you’ve lost but a second later it falls over. You shout with glee. You ask the attendant for the keychain that has the letter W on it.

Wanda watches you with a smile as you approach her. “Thank you for that,” you say, and when she tries to play naive, you continue, “I know you knocked the last block.”

She gives you a sheepish smile. You hold out the keychain to her. “I figure this only rightfully belongs to you. May it proudly hold your keys until you lose it.” She tries to say no but you take her wrist and place the keychain in the palm of her hand. “It has your initial. You have to keep it.”

“I’m pretty sure the W is for Westview County,” she counters.

“A happy coincidence.” You don’t take no for an answer and she finally smiles and thanks you, putting her new keychain away so she doesn’t lose it. You look around to see the others still distracted with the games but you also catch your cousin yawn. You know this means you’re leaving soon so you grab Wanda’s hand and head over to the line for the ferris wheel.

You thank the attendant when he checks you have your belt on and pulls the bar to your lap. The wheel starts turning and when you are midway to the top, it shakes a little as two people get on the final empty cart. The shaking makes Wanda nervous. She grabs your hand almost protectively as her posture turns into one that looks ready for a fight. You turn your palm over to interlace your fingers and rub your thumb on her hand to try to soothe her nerves. “Hey, it’s okay,” you say. She turns to you and you see her irises are red. “They always do this. We’re okay. Just don’t rock the cart and we’ll be good.”

She takes a breath willing herself to relax. The red in her irises fade back to her green. She sits back and the ferris wheel moves again, this time not stopping for people to get on. You keep holding her hand squeezing it from time to time in reassurance. You can see Clint and everyone from the ferris wheel and point them out to Wanda. The only ones to see you are the kids who wave to you. You wave back. 

“Do you come to the fair every year?” Wanda asks.

“Pretty much. There’s not much else to do,” you shrug. She ponders this for a moment and then, “So you’ve brought dates to the fair before, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah?” You say more like a question wondering where she was going with this.

“In the movies, people on dates always kiss on the ferris wheel. Did you kiss them?”

“Wanda,” you say her name but it comes out more like a warning.

“Sorry, I was just wondering,” she mutters, then turns to look back at the fairgrounds. 

“No, I didn’t.” You answer sincerely. She looks back at you. You explain, “The two other people I’ve taken to the fair on a date were too afraid to get on the ferris wheel.”

“You said ‘other’,” she says smiling at you.

You look at her confused. “What?”

“You said ‘the two other people’ meaning other than me. So is this date?” she raises an eyebrow, an amused expression on her face.

“A friendly date,” you say, making her frown. She huffs in defeat letting go of your hand and hold the lap bar instead. The night had been going so well, you didn’t want this one thing to ruin it, so without letting yourself think it over, you wait until you get to the top of the ferris wheel. You lean into her space and look her in the eye to show her you are serious when you say, “Don’t tell Nat or Clint.” She looks confused but the confusion quickly turns into a pleasant surprise when you gently grab her face and lean in to kiss her. It doesn’t last long enough to give her a chance to kiss you back. You pull back with a cheeky smile and say, “I did promise the whole experience.” 

The kiss may have ended too quickly for Wanda but it was long enough for a few people to catch it. One of them being your cousin whose kids were pointing to you and Wanda on the ferris wheel in excitement. She just shook her head in amusement when she saw you kiss Wanda. The other person to catch you was Wanda’s brother who, when seeing you kiss his sister, just whines, “No, Y/N.”

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I'm sorry this took so long. I got sidetracked and then when I started I got stuck and in my true fashion, once I started writing, I couldn't stop and I couldn’t leave you without taking you to the fair. So, I hope the length of the chapter makes up for the wait. Oh, Happy Mother's Day to all the mom's out there doing their best to be good moms! I created a house map of how I picture the inside to look, you know without the fine details.

Next chapter bring your bug spray, you’re going camping.

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