#praying next ep will soothe this pain

[seance]

struggling to know how to feel about the crew at the end of episode 7 ngl

[levisforgottentea]

Parents ;

an: it was late alright and i thought about Levi that most likely care about Eren. LEVI DAD HEADCANNON. OKAY. I BELIEVE IN IT SO YOU HAVE TO TOO. anyways we stan gay parents Levi. 

BUT ALSO IT’S KINDA OOC FOR LEVI? It came to me in a dream... or maybe i just cried and watched sad aot content after that s4 part 3 part 1 ep..... UGH

Words: 1500

Hurt, slight angst, fluff, arguments

Levi was furious. The plan to send Eren to Marley was ruined, all because the boy couldn't leave on time. He slammed his hands on Commander (name)'s desk, glaring up at the taller man.

"Just admit you care about the boy! For heaven's sake, you're a mess. Look at yourself!" (name) shouted, standing up to look down at Levi. Levi scoffed. "I don't care about that brat. He's useless if he can't even follow orders."

"Don't lie! I see the way you look at him. You care about Eren just as much as the rest of us!" Their argument echoed through the hallway.

Not even a minute later, Eren stumbled through the door, sobbing. Both Levi and (name)'s hearts broke at the sight of the boy in tears. Maybe (name) was right.

Maybe Levi did care more than he let on. But he would never admit that out loud. Levi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Just give the poor boy a few more days. We'll figure something out." (name) smiled, knowing he had won this argument. "I knew you'd come around." Levi just scoffed again. Eren's sobs quieted into sniffles as (name) patted his back and whispered things to reassure him that he was alright.

The next few days were tense. Eren did his best to avoid Levi and (name), ashamed at causing trouble.

But Levi began to notice little things about the boy he hadn't before. The way Eren's eyes lit up when he talked about the outside world. How he always made sure his friends had enough to eat before taking anything for himself. The determined look on his face as he trained, pushing himself past his limits.

Maybe (name) was right. Maybe Levi did care for Eren, though he hated to admit it. He had practically raised the boy, after all. It was only natural that he'd grown attached.

When the day came for Eren to leave for Marley, Levi found himself hesitating. He wanted to call off the mission, to keep Eren close and safe. But he knew he couldn't. Eren had a duty to fulfill.

As Eren said his goodbyes, Levi pulled him into a stiff hug. "Be careful, brat," he muttered. Then, even quieter, "Come back home." Eren's eyes widened, but he smiled and hugged Levi tighter. "I will. Thank you, Captain Levi." Levi just sighed, ruffling Eren's hair.

He watched as the boy rode off into the distance, praying this wouldn't be the last time he saw those determined green eyes. Maybe he did care more than he wanted to admit, but Eren had become like family.

That night, Levi was unable to rest. His mind raced with anxious thoughts about Eren - was he unharmed? Would he come back home? Levi tossed and turned for what seemed like hours on end until the painful uncertainty became too much to bear.

He dragged himself up the stairs to (name)'s office, tears flowing down his cheeks. He pounded on the door, gasping for air as panic and anguish overwhelmed him.

(name) opened the door and Levi collapsed into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. His cries echoed through the halls as (name) held him close, gently stroking his hair and whispering soothing words of comfort.

"I'm scared.." Levi choked out between sobs. (name) lifted Levi's chin, wiping the tears from his eyes with his thumb.

"Eren will come back to us. He always does."

(Name) placed a kiss on Levi's forehead, holding him as Levi's heartbreaking sobs turned to small whimpers and the tears had run dry. Levi clung to (name) as if his life depended on it, terrified that if he were to let go the unusual feelings might engulf him completely.

"You will be alright, my love. Eren will return home to us. He has a place here." (name) rested his forehead against Levi's, their breaths mingling together.

Levi took a shuddering breath, steadying himself. (name) was right. (Name) was always right. Eren always returned.

Levi gazed up at (name), eyes red but with determination flickering in their depths. "Thank you," he whispered. (name) simply smiled, pulling Levi close again. They would endure this hardship together, as they always had.

Eren had come back from Marley, without anyone knowing. it was just past midnight and he quietly snuck up the stairs to the top floor of the building to go to (name)'s office.

There he stood, faceing the golden plate 'commander (name)' it stood. He knocked gently on the door. He didn't even think (name) heard it. He felt himself hold back sobs, biting his lip almost to the point of bleeding. Oh how he missed you two and the others.

The door opened and revealed his commander, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat. (name) realized who stood before him and he quickly wrapped two secure arms around him, Eren finally let the sobs he held out. He cried for what seemed like hours into his shirt, in reality it was just about 2 minutes.

(Name) pulled away and sat the both down on the couch, putting reassuring hand on his shoulder, Levi came bursting through the door as he heard commotion from (name)'s office.

Levi got his words caught in his throat at the sight of the boy he missed so dearly. Not enough with that but he was dirty too, mud and blood most likely his own, had stained his clothing.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. You look like hell." Eren laughed, the sound light and airy. "Still as nice as ever, Captain."

Levi rolled his eyes, though the fondness in his gaze betrayed him. He guided Eren to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth to wipe the blood and grime from his skin.

Eren winced as Levi dabbed at a cut on his cheek, hissing in pain. (name) leaned against the doorframe while crossing his arms.

"I'll have to properly bandage that." He rummaged through the cabinets, finding a roll of bandages and something to sanitize the wound with.

Eren watched Levi work, a soft smile on his face. "I'm fine, really."

"You're injured. And if you don't clean it you're gonna get an infection..." Levi carefully cleaned Eren's cuts and scrapes before wrapping the bandage around his head. "There. Is that alright?" Eren nodded, gently touching the bandage. "Thank you, captain."

Levi cleared his throat awkwardly. "You're welcome. Now let's get you to bed."

Name followed silently, watching his usually cold and mean boyfriend silently take care of eren. Together they sat on the edge of his bed.

Eren felt tears well in his eyes and (name) put the covers tight around him and gently wiped away a slipping tear, shushing him as he tried to speak. Levi sat in silence looking at the boy.

"I just wanted to say... Thank you for kind of being my parents, You have always protected me and helped me. I didn't realize how grateful i were before i left for marley. Sorry for being such a dumbass and always causing trouble all the time..." Eren coughed as his throat had run dry.

"Don't say sorry" Levi blankly said. (name) got up "I'll go get some water Eren".

"Get some rest," Levi ordered, though his tone was softer than usual. Levi followed (name) tightly. While the two were walking down the hallway they met Hanji.

"Hey so. I heard Eren? Is he back? already?" Erwin came from behing Hanji.

"Eren's back?" he blinked in confusion and surprise. (Name) broke into the conversation before thay could say anything else.

"He is but don't tell anyone, he needs rest and a few days to get used to HQ again." (Name) huffed as he hurried off to get that promised water for Eren.

Levi and (name) quietly returned to the room with a cup of water for him.

"Here you go Eren" (name) whispered as he placed the cup on his nightstand, he leaned down and kissed his forehead softly before turning off the lights and just as he was about to close the door, Eren whispered "Thank you.. dad." as he dozed off into a good nights sleep.

Eren slept peacefully that night. No titans or nightmares. He was home, and he was safe. Levi and (name) were there to care for him, just as they always had been. He smiled as he slept, comforted by the knowledge that he was loved.

-Meanwhile-

(Name) looked at Levi amused. "Wow didn't know you could ever be this soft with titanboy. I'm surprised you finally admitted that you care about him"

"Shut up before i roundkick your asshole up your nose" Levi spat back at (name) as he drank his tea.

"Aye aye captain" (name) got back to his paperwork with a smile on his face, feeling like he found what hes been looking for his entire life.

"Thank you..dad." Eren's words warmed (name)'s heart and he couldn't stop repeating them in his head.

[baureidalvez]

Angels Chasing Demons • Spencer Reid

This is my first Criminal Minds blurb! I'm new to the fandom and haven't even watched the whole thing yet (at the start of s11!) but I couldn't resist writing a little something. Feedback and reblogs would be SO appreciated, as I'm a little nervous to post this!

Summary: you try to hide your feelings from Spencer after he got shot, with little success. Mainly just lots of fluff and emotions!

Word count: 2,181

Episode: 🚨S9 ep 23/24🚨

“Are you sure you’re comfortable?”

You plump up the cushion behind Spencer’s head, being careful not to jostle him, noting the wince in his throat as he settles against the sofa. He nods as much as he can, a small smile on his lips, now that he’s out of the stiff hospital bed and back in your flat where he belongs. He’s on strict bed rest; Rossi told you to hide his work phone for at least a week, but you know he won’t allow that. You know it’ll barely be a few days before he’s asking for it again.

“I think I’m as comfortable as I can be for someone who just got shot in the neck,” He replies, the usual sarcastic twinge to his voice. “You know, the doctor told me that the bulle-“

“Babe,” You swallow the lump in your throat and try not to let Spencer see the tears in your eyes, this being one of the reasons having a profiler as a boyfriend is so inconvenient. You can’t hide anything. He narrows his eyes as he observes you, a free hand reaching to squeeze one of yours. “When it’s been more than a few days and you’ve healed and rested, you can tell me all about the science behind you being shot. For now, I don’t want to hear it.”

He nods once more and remembers that you haven’t seen the things he’s seen; it’s not part of your daily routine to find dead bodies and analyse every aspect to work out who committed such a thing. It’s engrained in him now, it’s second nature – you can listen to so much, but when it’s regarding the sweet man sat in front of you, you can barely look at him without wanting to burst into tears. There has been many tears over the past few days – first following the call from Garcia, and then again in the waiting room as Blake tried to keep you sane.

“I do need one more thing,” He murmurs, his hand still clutching yours, thumb stroking over the back like he doesn’t want to let go. “Will you lay with me?”

There’s nothing you want more than to be close to him, yet you know you need a minute to compose yourself. From hearing that he got shot to waiting for him to come out of surgery, to then hear that Garcia had saved him from being shot once more in a place that should have been safe – it’s all been a little too much. You lean forward to brush a chaste kiss to his lips, his gaze set on you as he waits for your answer. “Of course. Just give me two minutes, okay? There’s definitely three more care packages outside the door that I need to bring in before one of the neighbours takes them.”

“Okay.” He whispers, and you kiss his forehead before tucking the thick blanket over his lap, with a promise to be back in a moment. He sighs and knows that you’re not okay. He’s not okay either – he knows it’s only a matter of time before the nightmares start again, and he won’t be sleeping, but somehow it was easier to deal with when it was just him alone. Now you’re around too, he hates being the cause of your upset. He lays back against his cushion as you close the door to the apartment, and it’s barely a few seconds before tears are slipping down your cheeks. You were right, there is another care package sat on the doorstep, which you know is from Garcia. It’s not the reason you’re out there though, in the silent hall, the only sound being the sobs you’re trying to conceal at the thought of your boyfriend inside. It’s so hard seeing him in pain. He loves everyone around him, he loves his job, he’s dedicated his life to catching the bad guys and protecting people, no matter what it takes. He doesn’t deserve the pain he’s been through, and every time he’s called to a case, you pray to some higher being to keep him safe. Nothing makes your heart race more than an unexpected phone call or a text, your mind instantly going to the worst scenario possible. In this case, it almost had been.

Spencer may be off work and on bed rest, but it doesn’t stop the profiler part of his brain from being awake. He hears the sound he was expecting to hear as soon as you close the door, and it goes straight to tug on his heartstrings. Sometimes he doesn’t have all of the answers, and he doesn’t know what to do. He knows he shouldn’t get up from the couch, and he’s not sure he’ll physically be able to without injuring himself further. He clears his throat before trying to call out your name.

“Honey…” He calls again, when your name doesn’t get your attention. Not enough to come back inside anyway. “I really want to be able to comfort you right now but I physically can’t move, so, can you come back inside please?”

You chuckle behind the door through your tears and shake your head, feeling silly for thinking even for a moment that he wouldn’t know what you were doing. Swiping the tears from under your eyes, you compose yourself as much as you can, picking up the picnic basket full of snacks and tea before pushing the door open again.

“I manage to salvage this one before next door got hold of it,” You try to laugh it off, but he hears your voice wobble, and his eyes follow you as soon as he spots you. “It’s from Garcia again, she left a not-“

“Babe.” He sighs, cutting you off from rambling about anything other than the current situation. “Come here, please? You don’t have to hide from me.” Warm tears are cascading down your cheeks once more when you realise there’s no concealing it, there’s no way to keep it hidden anymore. You don’t want to push him away, but somehow your upset seems less valid than his – he’s the one who had to go through the physical pain, he got shot, it should be you taking care of him. Spencer doesn’t see it that way, though.

“Please don’t cry because of me, love,” He murmurs as you sit down next to him, pressing your face against his sweater covered chest. He wraps his arms around your body and pulls you in close, tucking your face against his shoulder, wetness from your eyes hitting the material as you cry. “Shh, I’m right here, now.”

He lets you cry it out for a few minutes, soothing sounds slipping from his lips, a warm hand rubbing the top of your back. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You know you should, that you’re going to have to at some point, although you don’t even know where to begin. Spencer stalls for a few moments though, giving you another minute to calm down.

“Did you know, crying is actually a good thing? Research has found that crying actually does make you feel better, and the lump that you feel in your throat, isn’t actually a lump at all. It’s your autonomic nervous system going into high alert, which enlarges the glottis, the opening in your throat which allows you to get more air in to your lungs. It’s the tension between trying to open and close your glottis that makes it feel like a lump.” He keeps going and all you can do is smile, even though the words aren’t registering; you’re just happy to have your Spencer back and in one piece. “But.. even though it’s a good thing, it doesn’t make it any easier for me to see.”

Spencer feels an urge to comfort people, he hates seeing people cry. He remembers the unsettled feeling in his stomach that he feels whenever he sees JJ cry, or he finds a survivor who can do nothing but let out their emotions. He’s no stranger to crying himself, and if he’s honest, seeing you fall apart in his arms has his own eyes burning.

You rub your cheek against the material of his sweater, the smell soothing and familiar, much different to the clinical scent that clung to him after his hospital stay. “Spence… we almost lost you.”

Your mind flashes back to the beeping of machines, Blake’s arms wrapped around you in the waiting room, clinging onto any shred of hope that he was going to pull through the surgery. You vaguely remember a conversation between Blake and JJ, about how Spencer wants to have kids, and Rossi saying he’s too smart to die – he has too much to live for. It’s all true. He has the rest of his life to live and knowing he got close to almost not having that, is enough to scare you to death.

“We didn’t know if you were going to pull through. My heart sinks every time my phone rings, I just get so worried about you… and then I actually got that call.” You explain, unsure where you’re headed, but knowing he needs to hear it. He listens as you cry in his arms, his thumb gently brushing each tear away as it falls. “I know this is your job, your life, and I would never take that away from you. You’re amazing at what you do, and the world needs you. I just wish I could know that you’re safe. People shouldn’t be allowed to hurt someone like you.”

He exhales through his nose as he thinks of the situation from your perspective. Obviously, he was worried, but he always pushes it to the back of his mind when he’s in the heat of the moment, doing anything he can to protect others around him. He pushed Blake out of the way to keep her safe, and he’d choose that option every time. In the moment, he doesn’t think of the repercussions. It always happens so quickly, and the next thing he knows he’s in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital. He hates seeing people that he loves in pain, and he hates getting those calls too. He’ll never forget the feeling of finding out that Garcia had been shot, or that JJ had been tortured. It’s a ball of anxiety that sits in the pit of his stomach, and he realises that must be how you feel, every time he goes on a case.

“The world would be a better place if no-one ever got hurt. I like to think my job plays a part in trying to achieve that,” He replies, fingertips trailing up and down your back as he speaks. “There’s always going to be more cases, more bad guys, but every day, we put more of them away. I know it’s dangerous, but it’s a part of me now..”

“I know, and I don’t want to change that about you.” You assure him, squeezing his hand to get his full attention. “I’m not asking you to change anything. I just wish you didn’t have to get hurt, or be in pain. I’m too scared of losing you. You have too much to give back to the world for that to happen.”

“I love you.” He murmurs, making sure to look right at you, your eyes locked on his. “I know I’m not easy to be with, I’m away a lot, and I get hurt… but everything feels easier with you around. And I wish I could move my neck so I could kiss you right now.”

You laugh and carefully sit up as not to jostle him, moving your face closer so the tip of your nose nudges his. “I love you, too.”

Spencer steals the first kiss, his soft but slightly chapped lips brushing yours, moving his head as much as he can so your foreheads touch. You kiss him back with as much love as you can muster up, wanting him to feel every inch of it, knowing that he does. You sigh contentedly, feeling better after your discussion, but knowing he has a long way to go to heal. The kissing is interrupted by the sound of his phone, and you shake your head, remembering Rossi’s orders to keep it away from him and to not let him answer.

“My phone, can you get it? I can’t move,” He asks, looking around the room from where the sound is coming from.

“Nope,” You reply, shaking your head, punctuating the sound with another kiss to Spencer’s lips. “Strict orders from Rossi, no phone for at least two weeks. You need to rest, and I’m about to go and turn it off.”

He watches as you push up from the sofa, going to find his bag, and pulling the vibrating phone from the front pocket. He shakes his head as he hears you head to the bedroom, keeping it tucked away whilst he recoups. He’s in pain, and he knows he doesn’t have an easy road ahead, but with you to take care of him… somehow, things don’t feel so bad.

**

Feedback would be appreciated! Let me know what you think here <3

[shijiujun]

Lonely Dream | 孤梦

Summary: And when all is done and dusted, sometimes Lao Wen still gets those headaches of his, and the spots where Ah Xu had the nails driven in stil throb in pain on a cold, rainy day.

Some slice of life and domesticity for WenZhou as they enjoy more years than they expected to have initially, together.

Notes: OKAY so there are too many theories going out there for special ep ending, and nah not going there! So the concept of this is SOMEHOW Zhou Zishu saves Wen Kexing at the end of Ep 36, and they need to head into icy mountain cave for a WHILE but not forever. They head back down to Four Seasons Manor once Wen Kexing recovers.

Basically SHL ver. WenZhou, but with TYK ending (where WenZhou fight in the icy mountains for a bit after Wu Xi cures him and then head back down into the world of the living). No immortal lifespan, but hey, they get the rest of their normal lives together! So yeah, they can still eat normally, no snow and ice diet please.

Word Count: 4,500+ 

✨✨ Link on AO3 ✨✨

******

They visit Ah Xiang and Cao Weining’s graves once Wen Kexing’s year-long recovery in the frigid cold of the mountains is complete.

Zhou Zishu says that it is for Lao Wen’s recuperation, but he suspects Wen Kexing, the heartless bastard, knows that he has taken this year too, to finally stop hurting, to stop going through the bone-deep, heart-wrenching terror at the prospect of losing him.

Opening his eyes in the armoury a year ago, his five senses were returned to him, but at what price? Feeling Lao Wen’s cold hands against his, his stark, blinding white hair a horrifying contrast against his beautiful face, and the man almost leaving him.

Leaving him, once again.

Horror turned into anger, the words stuck in his throat, his chest so tight and heart slamming against the bones caging it, Zhou Zishu had regained all that he had lost-

-and then lost the most important thing, person, to him.

Someone he values above his own life, who had lied to him, who had so stupidly, stupidly gave himself up for him.

Zhou Zishu does not want to remember how he survived that day, how he spent minutes, hours, and days after, making sure Lao Wen continued to hang on to his very last breath.

In the past year, the cold he was constantly plagued with had nothing to do with the wintry landscape.

He knows he is pushing it a little — his eyes have rarely left Wen Kexing since they were moved to the mountains at Wu Xi and Senior Ye’s suggestions. Initially, Lao Wen slept and Zhou Zishu had no idea if he would ever wake up.

Before he would even open his eyes, the panic typically set in just like that, gripping him by the throat the moment he woke. Zhou Zishu would have to reach out for Lao Wen across him on the bed, the fear receding only when he heard and felt Lao Wen’s breaths under his fingertips.

For a long time, Zhou Zishu thought that he would be with Lao Wen in this state for the rest of his life. It was not all bad — as long as Lao Wen was alive, who cared if he spent the rest of his years guarding a sleeping Wen Kexing?

Who’s the lazy one now, Lao Wen, he thought plenty of times in the months after, his hands caressing at Wen Kexing’s cheek bones and pale face, which was of the same colour as his white hair.

Fortunately, fortunately… he managed to keep the person he wanted in the end.

They have been so focused on recuperating, stuck in the mountains and in that isolated environment, it was easy to distance themselves from everything that had and was happening outside.

Even though Wen Kexing did not mention a thing, Zhou Zishu knows that he spends some nights awake, looking out into a sky full of stars, quiet and pensive. He knows it, because he does the same.

For Jiu Xiao, for Han Ying, for Qing Luan.

For a young woman who called him Zishu-ge and Sickly Ghost, who threatened to fight him if he left Wen Kexing all alone. A beautiful young woman who should have gotten her happy ending on that tragic afternoon.

For a young man, who had a smile that could light up even the darkest of corners in a place like the Ghost Valley, who would have protected his to-be wife with everything he had.

The pain and grief that comes with losing Ah Xiang and Cao Weining is no easier to bear a year on.

===

Wen Kexing recalls the way she looked that day, all beautiful in her green and red bridal robes, finally able to live a life basking under the sunshine without anything holding her back. That was what he always wanted for her.

What a huge mistake that wedding was.

His whole life, aside from Ah Xu, has been a cycle of repeated mistakes, over and over again. If he had just put his foot down and insisted on not letting Mo Huaiyi in, if he had not just walked away in anger and instead stayed there, they would have stopped Xiao Cao’s death, and Ah Xiang’s after.

Why had he walked off? How did beautiful Ah Xiang, an Ah Xiang he was ready to give away, end up taking her last breath in his arms?

A sting on his right ear pulls him violently out of his depressed reverie, and he yells, “Ow- Ow, ow, ow, Ah Xu!”

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re thinking,” Zhou Zishu says, pulling Wen Kexing’s face close to him by the ear. “There is no point dwelling in the past. Life and death… when the time comes, no one can escape from it.”

Wen Kexing’s eyes sober a little, bitterness flashing across his face. Remnants of his hatred and resentment from more than a year ago, before he met Ah Xu.

“If I had just kept her with me-“

“We all make our choices,” Zhou Zishu says, his voice gentling as he lets Wen Kexing go, but the man does not move away.

“If she had to choose again, she would probably have chosen the same.”

In the cold, their hands find their way to each other, clasping warmly under their thick sleeves, the rims lined with fur.

They stare at the graves for a little longer. And while Wen Kexing has never believed in some higher power up there or the heavens-

-this time, with every ounce of his being, he prays and wishes that Ah Xiang and that pig will find their ways back to each other in the next life, no matter what.

Zhou Zishu’s hand squeezes around his, and Wen Kexing turns to see his Ah Xu’s warm smile and gaze.

“Shall we go home?”

Home. The place where they can live out the rest of their natural lives together.

“Let’s go home,” Wen Kexing agrees.

===

“Ah Xu, that is not the way you-“

Hearing Wen Kexing nag for the thousandth time, Zhou Zishu has finally had enough. Slamming the broad vegetable knife onto the wooden chopping board loudly, he turns and looks at the man next to him.

“I’m not the one who begged me to do this,” Zhou Zishu says, turning to walk away, “You make dinner. I told you it was a waste of time-“

Before he can finish his sentence, warmth engulfs his back, and something sharp snuggles into his shoulder bone. A familiar scent — jasmine, from the incense that Wen Kexing likes to use — wraps around him, hands trapping him in between the counter and the limpet attached to him.

Wen Kexing’s palms close over his hands, then guides them to pick up the knife again. Zhou Zishu stiffens, but does not move away. He lets Wen Kexing curl his own fingers properly over the cabbage, and chop at it neatly, over and over.

They have not yet spoken about this between them, despite laying in the same bed right next to each other night after night. The cave was hardly a luxurious abode and to save effort and space, Zhou Zishu fell asleep next to a comatose Wen Kexing for several months, wanting to ascertain that he was alive and breathing at any given moment.

After Wen Kexing woke, Zhou Zishu continued to sleep next to him, and Lao Wen never once brought it up in conversation.

Coming back to Four Seasons Manor, Wen Kexing naturally turned up in his room instead of the one he was staying at before, already asleep when Zhou Zishu returned to turn in.

This man is his soulmate, the person he would give everything up for no matter what it was. His lost shidi, but even before that, this man was someone who was willing to do everything he could for him. Who cared for him like no one else ever would again.

Beyond that? Zhou Zishu knows of his feelings, and is rather certain of Wen Kexing’s. He supposes that after pledging to save each other’s lives at the expense of their own repeatedly, some things just do not have to be articulated.

Zhou Zishu leans into the hold, relaxing entirely.

At this, it is Wen Kexing’s turn to be stunned at the reciprocation where he was expecting none before, but the man recovers quickly. He snuggles in even closer, the side of his face pressed right up against Zhou Zishu’s. 

His Ah Xu remains still, as if unbothered, and Wen Kexing decides to try his luck.

“Ah Xu,” he angles his head slightly, his mouth brushing lightly over Zhou Zishu’s cheek as he murmurs straight into his ear.

Ah, there it is. Zhou Zishu freezes against him, now making to move his ear out of Wen Kexing’s reach.

“What?”

Wen Kexing smiles, amused and so, so fond.

His voice still low and sultry, he continues, “I think you’re right, you should let me cook instead. You’re murdering the cabbage.”

Zhou Zishu pauses for a good two seconds before turning to glare at Wen Kexing. Wen Kexing recognizes that look, and the warmth on Zhou Zishu’s back vanishes instantly just as he starts waving the knife at him.

“Wen Kexing, don’t you think you’re being ridiculous and childish-“

Laughter fills the kitchen, a sound that is incredibly melodious, immediately soothing all the uneasiness Zhou Zishu feels.

Outside, all twenty disciples try not to peek and look at their shifu and shishu being strange again. One of the younger ones, Xiao Man, cannot help but angle his head in the direction of the kitchen, and then says, “Da-shixiong, shifu is going after shishu with a knife! Is he going to be okay?”

Zhang Chengling sighs inwardly, then smiles and pats the boy on the head.

“That’s shifu’s way of showing how much he cares about shishu.”

Back in the kitchen, having heard that tiny quip from their youngest disciple, Wen Kexing finally stops in his tracks, turning around mid-escape to grab Zhou Zishu around the waist with a hand, and the other going to the hand that is holding onto the knife and stopping his Ah Xu from possibly murdering him.

He sets the knife aside, but his other hand does not move.

“What are you doing,” grumbles Zhou Zishu, looking away, his expression a little stern, as if telling Wen Kexing not to be such a nuisance.

This close, however, Wen Kexing can certainly see the light flush on Ah Xu’s cheekbones. 

If Wen Kexing had to rank all the beautiful bones that Ah Xu has, it would probably be scapulas first, followed by his cheekbones.

Wen Kexing’s eyes dip a little lower.

He thinks collarbones may rank third.

“Ah Xu.”

“What?” sighs Zhou Zishu. “Let me go, the disciples need to finish the last set of practice-“

He is cut off when Wen Kexing swoops downwards, and catches his lips in his.

Zhou Zishu’s eyes go wide, but before he can do anything like move away and out of Wen Kexing’s firm hold, the man circles his waist with both arms, effectively trapping him and bringing him closer.

Wen Kexing’s body temperature tends to run on the colder side these days, a side effect of him having been brought back from the brink of death.

Right now, however, Zhou Zishu can feel nothing else but the scalding heat. His hands move up, intending to push Wen Kexing away, but they end up clutching tight around the man’s broad shoulders.

He does not stop the kiss, letting Wen Kexing’s lips roam as they like.

Outside, an unfortunate Chengling who sees this finds his eyes going wide.

“Erm,” he clears his throat quite loudly, gaining all the disciples’ attention. “Let’s head outside to finish our practice.”

He ushers everyone out, while wondering how the hell he hadn’t seen this coming.

Everything makes so much sense now.

===

Four Seasons Manor grows, and Zhang Chengling along with Bi Xingming end up taking over some classes and teaching of their own.

Wen Kexing does not want to admit it, but it seems that when he asked Ah Xu if he was a servant here, the man actually meant it. His little Chengling, who is not so little anymore, still comes to him to ask for tips or begs him to give some pointers to the other disciples, but most of the time, Wen Kexing is cooking.

He makes breakfast, is involved in lunch, and definitely ends up cooking a feast every dinner. Thankfully, Bi Xingming is unlike his da-shixiong and shifu as he actually has some kitchen sense, but Wen Kexing has truly been demoted to servant in this manor.

A servant that ends up in his master’s bed every night, Wen Kexing thinks then, and feels better about it immediately.

“Shishu, let me help you bring these out,” Bi Xingming says, stepping into the kitchen just as he’s done with the last dish.

“Mnn,” Wen Kexing hums in assent without looking up from his soup, tasting it one last time.

At the very least, these days, Zhou Zishu is able to actually, actually taste the food he lovingly cooks.

“Perfect,” he nods. “Is your shifu not up yet? It’s almost lunch time.”

“Ah…” Bi Xingming blinks, “You said not to disturb him until he wakes up, and he hasn’t left the room since morning.”

Wen Kexing frowns slightly. Sure, he worked Ah Xu over thoroughly last night, but not to the extent that he would need to sleep in for this long. Worry niggling at him, he gets Bi Xingming to start lunch with the other disciples first without waiting for them, and heads in the direction of their room.

The last time Zhou Zishu slept in so late, it was the night he confessed his past to Wen Kexing, of how he caused the deaths of everyone in Four Seasons Manor. He was deathly ill then and emotionally wrung out — things that Wen Kexing loathes to see on Zhou Zishu.

“Ah Xu?” Wen Kexing calls, sliding the door open gently.

The lump under the covers is the same as when he left it this morning. Wen Kexing takes quick strides and goes over, sitting down on the bed next to Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu?” he calls again, his voice soft as he reaches out for Zhou Zishu’s face.

His lips are pale, eyebrows furrowed and perspiring at the forehead.

“Ah Xu, are you ill? What’s wrong?”

Zhou Zishu’s skin is of normal temperature, much to Wen Kexing’s relief. His brain runs through a a million scenarios, none of them good and just as he’s about to yell for Chengling, something clicks in his head.

He does yell for their Chengling in the end, but for a hot bath instead with a pack of herbs and medicine from the stash Wu Xi gave them before he headed back home with Jing Beiyuan.

“Is shifu okay?” he asks, worried.

“He will be,” Wen Kexing says, lifting Zhou Zishu out from under the covers and heading for the bath. “Don’t worry, I’ll watch him. You continue training with the other disciples, otherwise when Ah Xu wakes up he’s going to scold all of you again.”

As Zhou Zishu soaks in the steaming medicinal bath, Wen Kexing sits right next to him, pillowing his head on his arms, which are sitting on the rim of the wooden tub and stares at him.

A few years have passed since the days when Wen Kexing despaired at Zhou Zishu dying in a short few years and the peace they have now makes it easy to not think about the past. He forgets sometimes that despite being healed, despite him giving his life force to Ah Xu, the man’s body has been to hell and back with the nails.

And forcing them out of his body forcefully while he mistakenly believed that Wen Kexing was dead, wanting to take revenge for him-

For the rest of their time together, Wen Kexing knows he will forever be guilt-ridden at this. If only he had just told Ah Xu, if only he didn’t make another stupid decision, there would have been no need for the armoury. No need for self-sacrificial plays, no need for lost time.

That Zhou Zishu would love him still and be with him, that is nothing short of a miracle.

On days like these, when the weather turns just the slightest bit wet and cold, his body starts to hurt, especially the points where he kept the nails in. All seven of them, the stupid man.

Wen Kexing inches forward and presses a kiss to the man’s temple.

For this life and every life after this one, Wen Kexing swears he will always be good to Zhou Zishu.

===

He loves and hates Wen Kexing’s hair, even after several years have passed. They are nearing the ten-year mark since leaving the mountains, and Zhou Zishu has slept next to this man every single day after, but whenever Wen Kexing shows up, Zhou Zishu has to admit that his breath is always taken away.

Wen Kexing looks ethereally gorgeous with those white strands, his features standing out even more clearly, not that Zhou Zishu would ever tell him that lest it goes to his head. However, it is a reminder that his silly, stupid shidi and now husband would dare to sacrifice his own life for his without telling him.

It is a constant reminder that he lost him, even if momentarily.

“Ah Xu, why are you are staring at me like that? You’re going to make me shy. Did you miss me? I was only gone for two days,” Wen Kexing says unabashedly during dinner.

At once, coughs and chokes go around the table, and the clanking of dropped chopsticks on the table echo through the dining hall.

Zhou Zishu takes a deep breath to compose himself and resists the urge to fight with the man over dinner. It would be a waste of food, not to mention a futile argument seeing that Wen Kexing has not changed at all since the first time they met. As long as he does not break out into poetry-

“Ah Xu, I missed you too. It is so fortunate that your heart is akin to mine-“

At that, everyone immediately stands from the table and excuses themselves, stumbling over one another as they parrot that they are full and do not want to have anymore.

It is an open secret that they are together — not because they are hiding it, but simply because they find no need to verbalize what they are to others — and if it was another couple that was stuck in this situation, he would possibly find it amusing, but Wen Kexing is incorrigible and has been for years. 

Zhou Zishu finds that while he loves the man and is utterly devoted to him, is willing to die for him, at times like these maybe they should have both just stayed dead.

“Wen Kexing, have you had enough?”

He reaches out, intending to pinch at Wen Kexing as a lesson, but the man catches his hand within his deft fingers and brings it upwards so his hand is cupping one side of his face. Wen Kexing turns his head a little to press his lips to the open palm, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“I missed you,” Wen Kexing repeats. “It’s strange how it has only been two days, but I miss you like I’ve never missed anything else before.”

The impending reprimand dies on his lips.

Fine, just this once.

Zhou Zishu sighs and pinches at Wen Kexing’s cheek instead.

“Ow, ow! Ah Xu, Ah Xu, this face is a work of the heavens, how can you trample on it like this?!”

Zhou Zishu’s eyes are once again drawn to Wen Kexing’s white locks, and he unconsciously reaches out.

As if knowing what Zhou Zishu is thinking about, Wen Kexing grabs for the hand again, interlacing their fingers together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before I faked my death, and then not telling you at the end, before I….” Wen Kexing says, swallowing with difficulty. “Ah Xu, if I could change it, I would. But at the end, if I was given the same choice, I would have chosen the same.”

It hurts to think about that morning, seeing Wen Kexing’s hair all white and almost lifeless, his hands dropping from his.

“I know,” Zhou Zishu breathes, hiding his face in Wen Kexing’s shoulder. “I know.”

===

Zhou Zishu hears of the supposed ambush on Four Seasons Manor while he  has half a day’s journey left before he gets home.

The unrest in jianghu truly never ends; their fight with the Scorpions, with Tian Chuang, with Prince Jin and Zhao Jing was rewarded with peace for a few years, but people never say contented for long. Old sects are wiped out and new ones emerge. Most of them know not to mess with Four Seasons Manor as his and Wen Kexing’s reputations indeed precede themselves, but it is unavoidable, perhaps, for some newer and ambitious ones to mistakenly think they can take both of them on.

Well, they must have made sure Zhou Zishu was not in the manor before striking, as if Wen Kexing could not take all of them on himself.

He arrives in the nick of time in the heat of battle, although a quick glance shows that Four Seasons Manor is still holding up pretty well, with Zhang Chengling and Bi Xingming leading the rest of the disciples.

And there he is, Wen Kexing, all regal in his red embroidered robes, and his white hair pinned up neatly. Every movement from his sharp and deadly fan strikes true. His eyebrows are furrowed slightly, his eyes revealing a thirst for blood that Zhou Zishu hasn’t seen in a while.

He shivers at the want that hits him, even though it is not the time and place for it.

Zhou Zishu lands opportunely behind Wen Kexing and parries a blow that was coming straight for Wen Kexing back.

The both of them exchange a glance, and wordlessly, delve right back into the fight.

When the dust settles a few hours later, Zhou Zishu makes sure injured disciples are looked at while others clean up the mess. His attention finally freed up so he can focus solely on Wen Kexing, Zhou Zishu turns, only to see his husband a distance away from him, supporting himself against a wall.

He recognizes the signs of Wen Kexing’s brain-splitting headaches immediately, and rushes over.

“Lao Wen!”

“Shishu!”

Zhou Zishu catches Wen Kexing just as he collapses, his legs giving out under him. His fingers immediately search for Wen Kexing’s pulse.

This is an all-too familiar scene, but Zhou Zishu cannot remember when this last happened. His body growing cold at the implications, all the fears are now suddenly dredged up from the trenches of trauma sustained at a point in time long ago.

“Go get Physician Yao,” Zhou Zishu snaps at whichever disciple is standing closest to them, before picking Wen Kexing up.

Zhang Chengling turns up in their room before the physician does, and whatever fear he is experiencing right now abates slightly.

Before the manor started to grow, there was only the three of them. If anyone understands what he is feeling right now, it would be Chengling.

“Shifu…” he says, trailing off as he kneels down next to the bed and looks at Wen Kexing. “Shishu hasn’t had this in years, what happened?”

“Maybe… I don’t know,” Zhou Zishu exhales heavily. “He could be just.. too tired.”

They watch over him until the physician arrives. Zhou Zishu refuses to be chased out, and the tightness in his chest only disappears once she rolls her eyes at him after testing Wen Kexing’s pulse.

“The both of you are not young anymore,” Physician Yao almost scoffs. “And the injuries and illnesses that the both of you share combined can fill up a list a mile long. He hasn’t exerted himself like this in a long while, suddenly letting it all out in a fight like that, of course there are bound to be side effects. Stop looking at him as if he’s about to die.”

Zhou Zishu is about to thank her, when a weak rasp comes from the bed, “… been there, done that.”

Relief floods him at the sound of Wen Kexing’s voice, and immediately after, anger burns hot through him as the man’s words sink in, “Wen Kexing!”

Physician Yao retreats, knowing by now not to give instructions to them both when they get like this. Instead, speaking to any of their disciples would be much more reliable.

===

Later, after all has quietened down for certain, the stench of blood fading somewhat, Wen Kexing blinks languidly, not wanting to move at all, or do anything.

If he was to die in this position right now, he would have zero complaints.

Zhou Zishu pats at the back of his head gently as Wen Kexing lies almost half on him, his ear pressed over Zhou Zishu’s heart, comforted by the strong beat. Years later, the both of them approaching the big five-o, and Wen Kexing is still like a child sometimes.

Well, he’s making up for lost time.

He is greedy for more years with Ah Xu, in this life and every single life after. A hundred, a thousand years and more. Every little bit, he wants to spend with Ah Xu.

“Ah Xu,” he murmurs, and feels the vibration of the man’s response through his chest, “Before, I could not have what I wanted. I could not play when I wanted to, there was no one to teach me martial arts when I wanted to learn and the things I wanted I could not afford.”

“The person I wanted to keep, I was too late.”

This conversation seems so far away now, but is as clear to the both of them as if it happened just yesterday. That rainy, storming night.

A night of despair and hopelessness.

Zhou Zishu huffs in amusement.

“And now?” he asks.

Wen Kexing looks up, and cheekily responds, “Well, the martial arts part aside, Ah Xu, you pay for everything now, so I can afford everything! And in terms of play… you would know best how well I play now with-“

He’s cut off with a warning look from Zhou Zishu, although the man does not attempt to jostle him, still worried about his earlier headache and injuries sustained from the fight.

Wen Kexing loves this man, to the depths of hell and back.

“And… the person I want to keep, is right here with me.”

Zhou Zishu’s answering smile lights up every fibre of being.

They have forever to look forward to.

***

[loverofmalec]

I’ll fix you for a change... (FAIR GAME)

This fic is dedicated to everyone that is going through a hard time after what happened in the last ep. I haven't been a part of the Fair Game Fandom for long but you all have been so kind to me. You all have been so supportive when it comes to my fics with these two. I have never felt more seen or appreciated in a fandom than in this one. I wrote this in hopes of mending hearts and creating hope. I love you all and this is for you. 

Qrow couldn’t breathe, the cold air stabbing through his lungs doing nothing to give oxygen to his blood. The snow beneath him melted and soaked through is pants. The sting painful on his shins. His hands moved to pull Clover closer, press him against his chest with his hands soothed back ginger hair. Qrow hadn’t felt this pain since Summer, this time though it was too much. Everything was hurting and the guilt made him want to end it there too. Finish it, so he didn’t put in risk anyone else’s life. His girls would be fine, they would make it through this godforsaken war and be happy. They had their friends and they would be okay.

“I’m so sorry, Clover.” Qrow cried into his hair. He wrapped his arms tighter around the man’s body not wanting to move.

Then he felt it, a movement in his arms. A soft press against his chest almost impossible to notice, but Qrow did.

He pulled Clover away and pressed his ear right over the man’s heart. Underneath, he heard it, a weak soft heartbeat.

Panic settled in his bones and disgusting hope flared up in his chest so suddenly that he was light-headed with it. He could still save Clover.

Then it hit him, they were miles from Atlas there was no way that he was going to be able to take Clover in time to get the help he needed. He couldn’t just fly away and leave Clover behind while he found his kids either. There was only one other option and he prayed to every fucking god he knew that they would answer. 

“RAVEN, Raven, Raven!” He cried out his sister’s name, begged into the sky that she would listen for once. “RAVEN! YOU FUCKING OWE ME!”

Qrow kept screaming until his voice cracked and was on the verge of giving out. Then right in front of him, there was a gust of warm wind and the flash of blood red. A portal opened and Raven with her sword draw walked through. 

Her head turned to see where she was and her eyes flashed with confusion. She turned to look at her brother and she stumbled back. “Qrow, what have you done?”

“I’ve been there for you, trusted you and defended you until you decided to leave Yang. I never stopped loving you and I gave up everything for you. I’m you’re fucking brother and I’m collecting my dept.”

Raven noted his bloodshot eyes, saw behind him his bloody weapon. She thought back to Yang, their last conversation, and just how it had torn her apart to leave her daughter yet again. Flashes of her family forced their way to the front of her mind. She took a step forward and almost slipped on the snow. A heavy feeling weighed down her shoulders, her next steps were careful and deliberate. She crouched beside her brother and pulled Qrow’s face towards her. Her thumbs went to press against her brother’s temples and she turned to look at the man dying in Qrow’s side. 

“Breathe, you have to control your semblance or you’ll finish him off.” She ordered in a low voice. The cold seeped through her clothing and made it hard to keep her teeth from chattering. “Come on, you can do it. That’s it, deep breaths. I can fee your semblance over us and you need to draw it back.”

Qrow was shaking in her arms, the tears fell from his still shut eyes. He tried with everything in his body to bring back his semblance. Draw it back into his body until he could lock it away so it didn’t hurt anyone anymore. The weight that made his shoulders sag and his hands slip over Clover’s body lifted off them. His semblance vanished and Clover stuttered to breathe.

“Yang, she’s in Atlas with the others.” Qrow whimpered, his face pulling back in a fresh cry. 

His sister pulled away and without further conversation drew her sword. She pictured golden blond hair, the smell of lavender, and the heat of fire. With those thoughts in her mind, she sliced through the air and saw her daughter standing beside her teammates. The room was destroyed and soldiers were collapsed at their feet.

“Jaune!” Qrow cried out. 

Raven watched Yang stand in front of the Faunus girl. Then she looked past Raven to see Qrow with a dying Clover in his arms. 

“Uncle Qrow?” She ran to Raven and passed through the portal. 

Raven stood back and watched the rest of those brats rush through. The blonde boy who must have been Jaune quickly brought his hands over Clover’s chest and the man’s aura began to glow and flicker. She watched her family silently suffer and kept the portal open until Clover started to breathe normally again. 

Qrow picked up the man as if he weighed nothing more than air. He looked at Raven and the siblings stood there staring at one another.

“I won’t call on you again, don’t worry about that,” Qrow forced out. 

Raven shook her head and stepped back to let the kids through the portal. She saw Yang linger behind her Uncle. “It’s dangerous to love someone so much, you won’t survive it,” She spoke the truth and they both knew it. He barely made it through Summer’s death and had been on the verge of losing it then, just like now. The man had a bleeding heart that was on its last few beats.

“I have him now and that’s all that matters.” Qrow looked down at Clover and pressed a hard kiss to the crown of his head. “I won’t lose him again even if that’s the last thing I do.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Raven watched her brother walk past her and into her portal, she noticed lines on his face that hadn’t been there when they had last met. When he was gone and back in Atlas it left Raven and Yang.

“Cinder is alive and she’s after the Winter Maiden,” Yang didn’t look away from her friends. She didn’t look at Raven when they were a foot apart and Yang was about to leave, “Run, get away from here and find someplace to hide out. Salem is on her way too and I don’t know if we’ll be able to take her on. Ruby says we can, so I guess there is some hope in that.” That had Yang smile sadly, the look ripping Raven’s heart all over again. For a long second, she wanted to take her brother and daughter away from everything. Hide them away so she didn’t have to lose them. She knew she lost the right to feel that though, so she watched her daughter walk away from her for what could be the last time.

“Qrow isn’t in any state to fight right now. Get his little boy toy stable and then try to get Qrow out of his shock. He also won’t be able to control his semblance so be careful.” Raven turned away from Yang and gripped the handle of her sword tightly.

Yang nodded once and finally turned to face Raven, “I’ll make sure that he’s okay.

With that, she left her mother alone. Raven quickly closed the portal and opened the one to her camp. She left leaving behind a single raven feather that landed right beside a shinning four-leaf clover pin.

[someonefantastic]

Running Out of Time

What? Me writing yet another fic about Mr Yin Presents...? I think it's safe to say I love that episode. I also love Gus, he doesn't get nearly enough love, and I've always wondered what that ep would be like though his perspective. Hence this fic. Enjoy! Summary: They had forty minutes to save Juliet. Gus just hoped that would be enough. Warnings: kidnapping, self blame, burns, cuts also on ao3 ___

3:50 am.

The call came in from Juliet at 3:50. Five hours after she was taken. Five hours after she slipped through that trap door. Five hours since they last saw her. Five hours after he lost her.

He had tried to not blame himself but it was hard when he was right there. Hundreds if not thousands of what-ifs had run through his brain. His therapist called it rumination- he called it overthinking. Regardless, it was making him sick.

What if he had been faster? What if he had been next to her when she fell? Could he have grabbed her gun and fought Yin off? What if he had been able to catch up with Yin? What if he had been able to tackle her out of the way, saving her from falling? What if he had never left her alone in the first place? What if she was safe instead of who knows where? What if he hadn’t failed?

The hours in between were torture. Not just for him but for everyone else. He had never seen Carlton so furious and distraught, the man alternated between disappearing to the gym to presumably beat up a practice dummy and sitting motionless at Juliet’s desk, staring at her abandoned paperwork. Shawn wasn’t much better off. He didn’t speak for hours after they got the call about Abigail, looking silently off into space despite Gus’ food offers or attempts to talk about it.

The whole station was grave as the fateful phone call came in, the next clue put into place. They had forty minutes, at half-past four she would drop and that would be it. Even worse, Shawn had to choose between her and Abigail, choose between the girl he had been after for years and the one he had managed to have a committed relationship with. It was an impossible choice and Gus hated that his best friend was in this situation and hated even more than he was partially responsible.

He wanted so badly to go with Shawn, to make it up to him somehow. But as Shawn told him- no trusted him- to go save Juliet, he knew that would be the best way to make it up to him.

They had twenty-five minutes.

If Gus hadn’t been so scared for Juliet’s life, he might’ve been afraid for his own as Carlton sped through the quiet streets of Santa Barbara at a speed that was way over the posted limit. It was somewhat eerie to see the city so still. Given different circumstances, he might even find it peaceful. But it wasn’t peaceful. The air hung tense as they hurled through the streets, his stomach-churning. He silently prayed- pleaded- for Juliet to be okay, for them to get there in time.

Ten minutes.

Of all the times to have to take the stairs, this was the worst of them. Of course, the elevator had to be out of order. He briefly wondered if Yin was the cause of that too. There was no time to waste, however, the two of them racing up the steps as if their life depended on it. Her’s certainly did.

Five minutes

His legs were burning and they still weren’t there yet, were only about halfway. He glanced up, gulping at the sheer amount of distance they still had to cover. Lassiter was a flight above him, his footsteps resounding throughout the stairwell. His pace quickened, they needed to go faster, get there quicker. Time was running out.

One minute.

Hope seemed so close and yet so far as they reached the last step. His whole body ached and his lungs worked overtime to suck in the cool Santa Barbara air. They were so close.

Rounding the corner of the clocktower, his heart rate tripled.

He wasn’t sure what Yin had prepared for her. Hundreds of scenarios had flown through his head in the past forty minutes but very rarely was reality worse than his imagination. Unfortunately, this time reality was much worse.

She was strapped to a chair, dangling off the edge of the clocktower. Only a thick cable connected her to the clock, keeping her from plummeting into the streets below. It terrified him that she wasn’t moving except for the loose strands of her blonde hair fluttering in the wind. He wasn’t sure if she remained motionless because of shock or because she had accepted her fate but it made his stomach tighten all the same.

The wire was immediately the focus of his attention. Maybe if they could move it, they could pull her away from the edge. To safety.

The minute he touched it, his hand erupted in agony, searing pain flowing from his palm and tingling up his arm. He jumped back, staring open-mouthed at the singed flesh, fighting back a surge of bile.

Grinding alerted them to the moving clock as the large hand crept towards the cable. They were out of time.

Thinking quickly, he ducked under the wire- being careful as to not burn himself again- and did the only thing he could do. He grabbed onto the clock hand, using all of his strength to stop its march towards her death- to stop time.

The contact with his burned hand was unpleasant, the pain tripling as it shot through his arms. The edge of the hour hand was sharp. He could feel it cutting into his hand as his muscles strained to hold it back.

He could barely breathe, all his attention on keeping Juliet from plummeting over that edge.

The seconds felt like hours. Arms shaking, he propped up a foot on a piece of stone jutting out from the building, using it as leverage. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it, his hands were starting to go numb, his arms tingling. Any moment now his hands were going to slip and the cable would be cut. He couldn’t let that happen, couldn’t let something bad happen to Juliet but he didn’t know how much longer he would last.

He owed Carlton big time as there was a shudder. The gears came to a grinding halt, the hand no longer fighting back. He glanced at his palms- the flesh broken and marred- and then back up at the clock, making sure it wouldn’t move again.

Once he was sure, he didn’t waste any more time stumbling over to Juliet, arriving at the same time as Lassiter. They muttered reassurances as her gag was removed, their hands rubbing her shoulders as they tried to soothe her but knew nothing really would.

The second she was on solid ground, Gus could breathe again. He knew he’d have to go get his hands checked out and give his statement but for now, he settled on watching her. She was surrounded by EMT’s but she was safe, they hadn’t lost her.

He needed to call Shawn, let him know that she was okay but he took one final glance at the stopped clock hands.

4:30 am.

Yin was wrong, she didn’t drop. She was safe. He didn’t let her or Shawn down.

They all had more time.

[cxhnow]

We tasked Chloe x Halle with the responsibility of interviewing one another about their current realities while allowing them the space to imagine their future.

Even the most exciting moments of the year have been undercut with the salty sting of current realities. The same applied for Chloe x Halle on what was supposed to be the joyous ushering in of their much anticipated second album, Ungodly Hour.

The Bailey Sisters are currently sheltering in place in their Los Angeles home turned de-facto production stage while stay at home orders are still in effect in California. While in quarantine, the pair, who are no strangers to producing from home, have shot everything from drone magazine covers to mini-concerts from the comforts of their tennis court. In the first week of June, when this conversation took place, they shot another type of video, as they sat backdropped by greenery shuffling shoulders explaining through near-tears, a decision that would mark their stance as artists in the current landscape. “My sister and I felt like it was only right to postpone our album,” Chloe says to the camera, “in honor of all of the lives lost in police brutality, we felt it was right to postpone and fully shine our attention and our work on them.”

Last year was filled with career-changing highs for the sisters individually. It was announced that Halle will play Ariel in the forthcoming Disney live-action The Little Mermaid while Chloe wrapped a shoot for her role in The Georgetown Project, a forthcoming horror film. And, in January, the pair celebrated the drop of the third season of Freeform’s Grown-ish where they play track star twins, Jazz and Sky Forster.

This year, though, we have indeed arrived at an ungodly hour. Amid a global pandemic and national protests, Chloe x Halle are learning to lean into new levels of fame, expression, and activism, all while stepping into new respective expressions of adulthood and sexuality.

Ungodly Hour is more than just a second album for the pair. It’s a departure from their saccharine debut EP Sugar Symphony, and a growth spurt from the time they reminded us The Kids Are Alright. It’s a declaration of Chloe x Halle’s arrival at the stairs of womanhood.

And who better to tell us about these times than the sisters themselves? We tasked the pair with the responsibility of interviewing one another about their current realities while allowing them to space to imagine their future. Read the conversation between the pair below.

*This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

CHLOE: So sis, how are you really doing?

HALLE: I’ve just been very up and down emotionally. Felt like I’ve been on an emotional roller coaster, to be honest, these past few weeks, just because everything that’s going on in the world. It’s sad, it’s disheartening. We’re nervous, we’re scared, we’re unsure of the future right now, but I’m hopeful that things could change. I’m just trying to stay positive and not be on social media because that makes me a downer. What about you?

CHLOE: I have been better. My emotions have been all over the place. I have been hurting. I’ve been confused, other moments I’m hopeful. And I think with the current state of everything, my spirits started feeling really down and sad and there’s been a few times this week where I’ve had to delete the social media apps off of my phone. But I just started working out again because my mental was getting crowded with negative thoughts and I wanted to change that for myself and I’m starting to feel a bit better and I’m grateful for LA sun. I’ve been appreciating nature a lot more. And it’s just been helping me feel a lot more Zen and praying has been getting me through.

There have been a lot of emotions. And our album, we postponed it to next week. It was supposed to come out this week and we were just praying to God to just give us the proper answer for the right thing to do when it comes to putting it out this week or [wait until] next week. I’m happy with our decision and I just hope everyone still receives it really well when it does arrive.

HALLE: How do you want to remember this year and this moment before our album launch?

CHLOE: What I’d like to remember about this moment is that our peers have really used their voices and they haven’t been afraid and haven’t backed down. And that is what I’m going to remember about this. I’m not going to remember the heartache and the pain that I’ve been feeling about our brothers and sisters dying but what I’m going to remember about this when I look back is how all of us are using our voices to make a change and it is changing things. And I’m truly, truly happy and excited for that change. I just hope our music could be seen as a healer. How do you want to remember this year? What are you feeling?

HALLE: I’m feeling like this is a year of change. It’s a year of evolution to me. I truly feel like we are in the Ungodly Hour in 2020. From the Australian fires to [the death of] Kobe Bryant, to COVID-19 to all of these instances of police brutality caught on camera. And now everybody is rallying together. I feel like finally, something might come of this, this might be the year of change. This just might be it. So I’m hopeful. I’m really trying to remain positive and hopeful that we will see the light at the end of the tunnel. People always say it’s darkest before dawn and I truly believe that. I have to believe that! It’s what makes my heart go on.

Chloe, can you remember the first time you were aware of your Blackness?

CHLOE: I do remember. I believe I was in third grade and we grew up in Atlanta so in our first elementary school we were around all of our beautiful Black and Brown brothers and sisters. Everyone looked like how we look but then we moved to another area, another part of Atlanta, which is mostly white populated. I remember as much as I love that school. I remember walking in and there are only like two Black kids in a grade. And I remember looking around like, “Do I fit in? Am I sticking out because of my skin color? Am I making friends because of my skin color?” I remember just questioning that with myself. I remember sometimes just sitting in the cafeteria and just looking at everyone as if it was an out-of-body experience and being like, ‘Do I truly belong here?’

HALLE:  That transition happened for the both of us, one minute we were in a part of town where everyone looked like us and then the next, it was like, “Whoa, where are we?” And it was really interesting to deal with that transition and suddenly be the outcast and suddenly be the person that is the odd one out but at that time. I was really grateful for my family and my sisterhood with you because every day I came home, I was reminded of who I was and I would look around and see the beautiful skin that my family had and none of that in school could tear me down. None of those people who didn’t understand or who would call my hair a certain name or none of that could ever tear me down. So I think that’s when I definitely was aware of my Blackness but I was also aware of how special it was and the beauty in it because of my family.

CHLOE: Sis, describe the most beautiful thing or image you’ve ever seen.

HALLE: Wow. I have seen so many beautiful things. But I would say the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen is, honestly, Black people. I’m sorry. (laughs)

CHLOE: Don’t be sorry!

HALLE: It’s in every way, just the beauty of a Black person is just… It leaves me speechless. When I see my family. When I see my community, it’s truly like the sun lives in our skin, in our veins and I’m just so happy to be Black and I’m so happy to be a part of that. I truly think that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen from families to my grandmother and my grandfather and seeing generations and beautiful Black babies. That’s just, that’s it for me.

CHLOE: On top of that, for me, it would have to be when we were in Jamaica at Frenchman’s Cove and the water is my favorite thing. But being on that beautiful light brown sand that was soft to the touch, it wasn’t those hard grains that hurt your feet, it was so soothing and seeing that beautiful, clear blue water, you could see your brown skin under the waves. It was stunning. And I remember seeing the swings that were hanging from the trees and all of the gorgeous people that looked like us and seeing so many beautiful Black people with locs like me and just seeing everyone smiling and happy and joyous. And I think that would have to be one of my all-time favorite views. Anytime I’m at a beach, but more specifically when I was at Frenchman’s Cove, It was so healing for me.

Halle, if you were to paint me, what’s the first color you would use?

HALLE: Yellow.

CHLOE: Why yellow?

HALLE: I would definitely use yellow as a first color to paint you because I just feel like your aura just screams yellow. It’s just bright and filled with love. I would just start there. I would start doing a border of you just in yellow and then of course do your brown and your hair and all of that. It should be like a sunray around you. That’s what I would start with.

CHLOE: For you, the color that keeps popping in my head is dark purple. As much as we love the sun, in a way with our personalities, I am more like the sun and you’re more like the moon. You have like a mysterious calmness to you. So I would probably use the same colors as the night sky. That’s what I’m seeing.

HALLE: That’s cool.

CHLOE: Yeah, that’s what I see in my head.

HALLE: What is the most important singular memory that you have of me?

CHLOE: I remember… I don’t know why I’m going to cry.

HALLE: Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.

CHLOE: I think we were like five and three or something and Halle, you still had those cute little baby feet and I love babies. And I had this baby doll named Tracy. She was a beautiful chocolate little girl, and I would carry her around. So I always wanted to be like a mother figure, I guess, in a way. And you were still in your toddler baby state. And you had the cutest little baby tiny feet. And I’d be like “Halle! Halle! Spread your feet like a baby does.” And I remember we just laugh and laugh and that’s the first memory that popped in my head.

HALLE: That is funny! Well, now you have to ask me that one!

CHLOE: When you think about the most important time with me? What do you think?

HALLE: When we were younger in Atlanta when we were still in school, we knew we were sisters, but we were just like, whatever. And then when we became homeschooled, that was when we got our bond for real, for real, and instantly got closer. I just remember that whole time when we were both in the house together, both trying to learn together and being at the table together and just growing up and having all of these important moments together. That always pops in my head. You always being there as an anchor for me. I’ve never experienced a time where I have not felt safe and protected because you’ve just always been there. So I don’t know if I can point out one singular memory because there’s so many but I just remember just never having to worry because you were always there.

Chloe, What do you think is the biggest misconception about me?

CHLOE: Ooh. I mean, half of it is a misconception. Maybe half of it is, they just don’t know the full story. Yes, you are the sweet kind-hearted girl but you are so fiery and headstrong. And unless someone knows you personally, they don’t know that. And I think it’s so powerful when a tiny little person has such a bold spirit and an old soul. That’s, what’s special about you. It’s like a hidden thing and no one really knows until they meet you. I think that’s really special.

What about me? What do you think the biggest misconception about me is?

HALLE: You know what’s funny? I would say the opposite. I mean, I know when people meet you, it’s like, “Wow. She’s so goofy and fun and happy.” But I think that there’s also that other side that people don’t see, that is your protective side. That is your like, not bossy but like boss bitch side that people don’t really get unless they watch you work, unless they’re with you when you’re making beats or when you’re answering emails because a whole boss bitch comes out. And I think that people may not see that right away. They just see the happy, goofy CHLOE when they meet you. There are so many sides to you. Who do you see when you look at your reflection?

CHLOE: So I feel like it’s been changing obviously because I’m changing as a woman. But my perception of myself is changing, I’m actually loving myself right now. When I look in the mirror and see is someone who has a really open heart and someone who loves everyone greatly. As I’m falling more and more in love with my relationship with God, I’m seeing God’s light shine through me when I look in the mirror and I’m starting to see this new fire in my spirit when I look at myself and that’s evolving because I didn’t always see myself with so much love and happiness. And I’m really happy that I’m getting to that point right now. What about you? What do you see?

HALLE: This is a really tough question. I feel like it’s changing every single day, like you said. When I was younger, I remember seeing a more shy version of myself. I feel like since I’ve always had you to lead the way a part of me has always remained in a shell. But as I’m getting older and as I’m falling in love and as I’m having life experiences and realizing that I’m slowly coming out of that shell and seeing more of the world and seeing the wonder of all that it is. I think it’s me still growing into myself and finding the adventure in life and being okay with starting to become bolder and saying what I want to say.

CHLOE: I feel like we’re really being ourselves unapologetically and we’re not afraid to be these grown, sexy, fierce women that we know we are. And that has been really fun. We’re not these like sweet two little innocent girls. Yes, we’re very kind, we have big hearts, and we’re very loving but there are also layers to us. We like to have fun, we like to be naughty sometimes. We like to use our voices. We like to take control of our business, all of these different layers that make us who we are.  How does that look for you? Reclaiming yourself, reclaiming your truth, making a stand, and using your voice?

HALLE: We are making that change and documenting it in the music. As we’re growing and changing every single day, our music has been our diary in a way and I think that when people listen to this new project, they will hear the new versions of ourselves and our new image.

Chloe, how would you define sexiness?

CHLOE: Sexiness is in the way you carry yourself. I’ll be 22 in July, and I’m really falling in love with my body and my curves and all that I have to offer to this world. I’m so proud to be a woman. Usually, I’m very bright and happy and smiley but something about when I step on the stage to perform, I think that’s when I unlock my inner sexiness and I turn into a different person. I think that’s why I love performing so much because I can tap into that and fully feel like a woman. I feel like a grown woman when it comes to my business but in everyday life, I’m pretty innocent in the way I look at the world and how I see people. But it’s really just about how you carry yourself. And I like to just bring it out sometimes here and there, that’s always really fun. What about you? As you are now 20 years old, how do you define sexiness?

HALLE: I feel like it’s in your strengths, like your power that you hold. Whether it’s your work or you have ownership in whatever that you’re doing, that is a form of sexiness. When you’re confident in yourself, that is a form of sexiness. I feel like my ways of defining sexy are a bit different because I’ve always been a bit more shy, a bit more reserved, and used other ways to feel more comfortable in my skin. I think it’s in the power of realizing that I can do anything and I can be whatever I want to be and nothing can stop me. That to me is pure sexiness when I can hold the world in my hands and know that nothing can stop me.

Ooh, Chloe. Imagine me in 10 years. Who am I? Be detailed?

CHLOE: I see you with two kids-

HALLE: Only two?

CHLOE: Well, two or more. I just see you with a big smile on your face with your dimples showing. I feel like you’re going to be really chill in 10 years.

HALLE: You think so?

CHLOE: I see you in a faraway land with your family just happy and caring about the world but really it just revolves around you and your family. That’s what I see when I think of you in 10 years. I don’t know. I just feel like you’ll have a family by then.

HALLE: Yeah, I agree. Because in 10 years I’ll be what? 31. Wait. How old am I?

CHLOE: You’ll be 30. Damn. Wow. What do you see in 10 years for me?

HALLE: Wow. In 10 years, I don’t know.

CHLOE: In 10 years, I’ll be 31 going on 32.

HALLE: Oh my goodness. I see you in 10 years. I’m not sure if you’ll have children right away. I feel like you say you will.

CHLOE: I don’t think I will. I’ll be married.

HALLE: You will be making music you love and you’ll just be a badass producer who is producing for all these cool people and traveling the world with your husband and just happy. And you’d come over on my farm or wherever I live with my family of 10 children and you’d be the aunty.

That is so cool. And then I feel like you’d probably settle down and have children around 34.

CHLOE: That’s what I’m thinking, right?

HALLE: Yeah. That’s what I see for you.

CHLOE: If someone found Ungodly Hour in a vault in the year 2080, what would you want the reaction to be?

HALLE:  I would want their minds to be blown, to be honest. I would want the music to instantly connect to their soul. And for them to feel like it’s up to date with what’s going on and it hasn’t missed a beat. I mean, there are so many albums for us that have lived on for years in years long past when the artist has gone. But that’s what music is about. I want our music to live on and for people to never get tired of it and to always be able to relate to it. [I was playing the] Marvin Gaye, What’s Going On album yesterday and I was like, “This is so eerie how everything is saying is the exact moment that we’re going through.”

I want people to have that same recognition and feeling when they listen to our music in the near future. I never want it to die.

CHLOE: Yeah. I just want people to get the feeling that I get listening to older music. I want them to have that feeling where it feels so timeless but still so fresh. That’s what I hope for. I hope it’s still inspiring.

what does the word legacy mean to you?

HALLE: I mean, it just means living on and making a positive impact in people’s lives long past the moment you’re gone. I hope that we…Well, I know for sure, you’re going to have an amazing legacy when you’re gone.

CHLOE: So are you, Hal.

HALLE: Thanks but you know what I mean? I know for sure that people will always be inspired and lifted up by the creativity that you have put into the world. And I hope the same for me.

CHLOE: It’s definitely the same for you.

HALLE: I just want to live on in people’s minds as being a positive person and making people feel loved and some sort of happy emotion in their life.

CHLOE: Yeah. What I hope to leave with my legacy, is just love. I hope I raise some pretty sweet children who can carry that as well. If someone could look back at the family tree that I’ll continue to spread out and create, I just hope they see bright, positive beings who are contributing and spreading God’s light through their love for life. And that’s what I hope I bring. So I can’t wait for that. When I think about our grandparents and our great aunts, they were such phenomenal people-

HALLE: Amazing people.

CHLOE: With such great work ethic and drive and they were so kind and beautiful as well. And I just hope that further generations will look back and think of me that way. [x]

[weilongfu]

Wei watches Until We Meet Again Ep 17 END

WHO’S READY FOR PAIN AND EVERYTHING? IT’S ME. I AM. LET’S GOOOOO

We open up with the funeral scene for Korn and In. An and In’s mom are sufficiently sad. Ailn is sufficiently innocent. An tells Ailn that In went on a trip and Ailn asks when he’ll come back to eat the dishes he wanted with them. An hugs her daughter in her sorrow.

Krit and Kard are also sad, but holding it in. 

The first to approach the coffins is In’s dad. He cries as he pats In’s head and says he’s not good enough to be In’s dad. He then ties a red string around In’s pinky finger. He then says he loves In so much before looking over at Korn. He unwinds more string as he walks around and over to Korn’s coffin. He then looks to the two families as if asking if he’s doing the right thing. Korn’s dad gets up and also approaches Korn’s coffin. He leans over and lifts Korn’s hand for In’s father to tie the string around his pinky. 

In’s father hopes that the red thread will bring them to meet each other again in their next lives. He then says that they couldn’t be together in this life but he hopes they will meet again in the next. He also asks Korn to take care of In because he is his beloved son. 

How sad is it that both families realize the most important thing was how much they loved Korn and In and not how others might see them and their homosexuality only after death?

At home, Krit looks through the fridge and finds the candy In gave Korn. He takes it and remembers Korn’s expression and the day they found out about it. Krit begins to cry from the memory and the joy that happened that day as they teased Kard and named Kard’s future kids. He also remembers what Korn told him to do about his future, being what he wanted to be. He falls the the floor, still holding the candy, as he cries. 

In the present, we see Pharm rocking back and forth in the apartment. Dean runs up to him and pulls him up and tells him they should go back to their home. Pharm remembers Korn telling In how much he loves him and calls Dean a liar. And also hits him for killing someone he loves. Dean takes the abuse, sad and confused, before he tries to stop Pharm’s hands. He succeeds and pulls Pharm close to hug him in an attempt to calm him down. 

Dean apologizes and wow Fluke’s expressions in this shot, crazy. Pharm then asks if Dean knows how he felt watching him die in front of him. This makes Dean pull away as Pharm talks about how he called for him and how he had promised they’d be together forever and how he’d never leave. Pharm says his heart was dead and he couldn’t breathe. At this point, it’s very clear he’s possessed by In. He complains that Dean/Korn hurt him the most by his death. Dean promises how much he loves Pharm, but Pharm reaches for the bun and asks what if he chooses to leave first this time. He then declares he’ll leave first this time.

Dean finally realizes what’s up and begs In not to take Pharm away from him because of how much he loves him. He begs In not to do this and begins saying that he’s here, Pharm’s Dean is here. His reassurances finally let him get the gun away from Pharm. Pharm begins to cry again, but Dean holds him steady and embraces him to soothe him. The two stay in their agonized embrace until the door opens and Krit, Sin, and Korn’s dad come in. Dean looks at Korn’s father and calls him dad. Pharm as In begins to freak out and demand he go away. Dean tries to calm him down again, but Pharm continues to be upset, demanding he go away and he doesn’t want to see him. Pharm finally calls Dean Korn and calls out for Korn. 

As he continues yelling and sobbing, Pharm’s mother and brother also come in. (Side note, the actor for Phoom is tall. Like not as tall as Sin, but still. Poor Pharm, he got the short genes.) Pharm’s mother moves to help, but Krit stops her and says that he’ll handle this. Korn’s father also seems to be bracing himself or praying. 

Krit walks over to Dean and Pharm holding the tin of things that Pharm found the gun in. He says that no one will separate the two of them. Dean pulls away a bit to help Pharm stand up again and holds him close. Krit calls for Intouch and says that his parents were in pain for a long time. He also says the entire building was bought for both of them by Intouch’s parents to ensure it will always stay the same for the last 30 years. He then says everything in the box was kept by Korn’s dad for them. (BUT WHY KEEP THE GUN?) He goes on to say that Korn’s dad loves Korn and once he was gone he cries whenever he looks at the box. Krit also tells In how sad his father was and that he cried so much that it was like his world had fallen. Pharm as In cries for his dad and says he’s sorry. Dean continues to console him. Krit’s eyes get teary. Dean says it’s his fault and that he hurt everyone around him, I guess he’s talking as Korn right now. Dean as Korn apologizes to his father. 

Krit then tells Korn that after the funeral, their family kept in touch with Intouch’s family until the day Intouch’s dad got sick. Their dad promised to take care of everything, the family, the condo building, everything. Krit asks him to not be mad at their dad anymore. He also asks for In to not be angry anymore either since they’ve all suffered in pain. Kard was also so angry he never forgave their father. Even on Kard’s deathbed, he refused to see his dad. Korn apologizes again through Dean for the pain and selfishness. He turns to In and says he loves everyone right now, his dad, mother, and all his brothers, as well as In. He then kisses Pharm/In’s forehead. He apologizes to Pharm/In over and over softly. 

Pharm/In caresses Dean/Korn’s face before turning to their families. Then he turns back to Dean/Korn and says Intouch thought he was strong enough. The scene has the umbrella memory before flashing back to be Korn and In in DeanPharm’s places. In apologizes for blaming Korn for everything and forgives Korn and asks Korn to stop blaming himself. The scene then cuts back to the two being Dean and Pharm again. Dean dries Pharm’s tears and Dean/Korn says he loves Pharm/In. The two embrace and we cut back to them being represented by Korn and In. Korn’s father’s eyes get teary at the resolution.

The day after, Krit is in the hospital hearing that his father will not get any better. Sin and Dean are also in the room as Korn’s father rests in bed. Pharm, is also there, recovering from the ordeal with an IV drip, wheeled in with Phoom. 

Dean asks if there’s anything Korn’s dad wants. He asks for Dean to take care of Pharm and Dean promises he will. After that, Korn’s dad passes away. A single tear falls from Dean’s eyes. 

Back at Pharm’s dorm, Pharm dreams of the thread and Dean is in his room. Dean starts walking away and Pharm asks where he’s going. Dean holds up the string and cuts it. Pharm is stunned and upset. Dean looks at Pharm and says they are free from each other from now on and don’t have to love each other. Pharm objects and asks if they truly love each other and not because of the red thread. Dean says no, it was the thread, before turning around and walking away. Clearly this is an anxiety dream for Pharm. Pharm starts to cry in his dream, looking at the cut red thread. He wakes up in bed, alone, and sits up, eyes still wet with tears. He then says that he should have gone with his mom to stay in the US for a week instead of pretending to be strong. He probably wants to have someone with him for comfort. 

Pharm then looks at the dog tag Dean gave him before asking if the love between him and Dean is real. 

The next morning, Manaow and Team are doing homework and Pharm shows up with look choup for them in a variety of shapes. Manaow asks when Pharm had the time to make all that since they’ve had so much homework. Pharm stays quiet and Team asks if Pharm has been sleeping. Manaow realizes how big the bags are under Pharm’s eyes. Team asks what’s wrong and if he had a fight with Dean. Pharm says that he couldn’t sleep and blames exam stress. Manaow cheers Pharm on and asks if Dean will pick him up today. Pharm says Dean will since they have a date today. Team warns him not to stay up too late or he won’t be showing up to class the next morning. Pharm chastises Team for teasing him. The three continue to be cute and friendly, but Pharm seems distant. 

Later, Dean waits for Pharm at the building as Pharm comes down the stairs. Dean’s face brightens when Pharm calls for him. Dean asks if Pharm wants to eat anything and Pharm says ice cream. Dean says they should eat food first before ice cream and Pharm agrees. Dean offers his hand and Pharm takes it. 

That night, the two sit in Pharm’s room, watching TV while Pharm eats ice cream. Dean tells him not to eat the whole thing at once, which makes Pharm eat one more spoon before putting it down. The two continue to take glances at each other when the other isn’t looking. Pharm is clearly tense and anticipatory of something happening. He’s also the one that seems the most sad, although Dean seems to catch on that something doesn’t feel right. Pharm almost reaches for Dean’s hand, but stops himself. 

Finally the two look at each other. Dean asks what Pharm is thinking. Pharm touches Dean’s face and then the two lean in and kiss briefly. Pharm then says that he thinks they should stay apart for a while while starting to cry. Dean asks why. Pharm says they should think over about if their love is real. Dean’s face is confused and upset. 

However we return 3 months later. Pharm, Team, and Manaow are at a bbq place with lots of food to eat. Manaow asks Pharm to grill some meat for her and Team also pitches in to help as Manaow does her makeup. She asks how she looks and Team complains that she always looks the same. Manaow then says she’s got something to show Team and she needs to get it out. As she does so, she pretends to see something behind them and tells Team to go look. She smears something on Team’s forehead, which is just some makeup to tease him. The three then continue with their bbq party and decide to take a photo. The three take their selfie and continue. 

At the swim team, Dean is looking over things and turns to see Pharm and Manaow. He doesn’t seem to really react though. Team also notices his friends, but is then directed to practice properly by the rest of the club. After practice, Manaos rushes to find the boys and tells them she won the film competition. 

At the cooking club, Pharm is going to teach them to make Inthanin, which is not a common Thai dessert. Best’s character gets a line and asks if Pharm and Dean are still together while Pharm prepares to teach. Pharm flips open his book to a sticky note from Dean thanking him. Pharm says they never broke up before looking at their texts. Pharm then asks Best’s character what they should make next week. Best’s character then gives Pharm a note from someone who loves desserts. It reads, “Never forget.” Best’s character says that he just dropped by and was given a dessert. Pharm cries a bit despite a twitch of the lips which looks like a smile. Pharm then says he knows what he’ll make, Leum Kleum. 

We then get some WinTeam with Team learning a coffee order for Win. Team is trying but he can’t seem to get how to say the order perfectly. Win helps by taking a picture of the drink and explains how to order it in a less complicated way. Team succeeds and Win pats him on the head. Team then asks what else Win wants to eat. Win tells him that if it’s coffee he can drink anything as long as it’s half sweet. It appears that they’re learning more about each other slowly. Win then asks Team what he likes to eat other than chips. Team says he likes to eat lots of things like bingsu (shaved ice), bbq, cake, steak, and a lot of other food. Win holds out his hand for Team to take so they can go. At the offer of paying, Team finally takes Win’s hand and they run off.

The next day, the trio are looking at their phones when Manaow starts to freak out about something with Del. Team asks what’s wrong and it turns out Del and Alex are in a relationship. Pharm asks since when and Manaow says she doesn’t know, however she says her club will celebrate today and she’ll go clear it up with Del. Team and Pharm are still mystified, but Team brings up the Leum Kleum and says the seniors from the swim club are thankful for it. Dean also texts Pharm his thank you. Team tries to look at the phone, but Pharm pulls away.

Team calls Pharm annoying, but Pharm points out how Team went to see a movie with Win last week. Team then tries to run, but Manaow comes back because she forgot her bag and asks what the two are up to. Team says it’s nothing and he is just going home. Pharm refuses to let Team go without the details first. Manaow later walks on her own, looking at her phone and shouts how jealous she is about everyone being in a relationship. She bumps into Pruk again though. Pruk asks if she’s not going home and Manaow says she will soon. Pruk then reveals a bouquet of flowers and hands it to Manaow. Manaow asks if it’s for Del. Pruk says it’s for Manaow and Manaow is surprised. Pruk congratulates her on her success and Manaow says it’s only a second place. Pruk says that that it doesn’t matter what place you got, but you still got a prize. Pruk then complements her acting and calls Manaow amazing. Manaow says Pruk is making her shy.

Pruk then says that since it’s late, Manaow should go home with her friends. Manaow says her friends have already left and asks Pruk to accompany her. Pruk takes her hand and kisses the back of it and then says they should go. Manaow jumps into his arms and yells about how god has mercy.

In Pharm’s room, Pharm dreams about Korn and In meeting and In asks for ice cream. Korn says In is weird for wanting to eat it now and In says he hasn’t even talked about what flavor he wants yet. He then talks about wanting corn soup flavored ice cream. Pharm sits up in the dream watching it all. In also talks about wanting to go on a trip to Kanchanaburi. Korn says In is talking too much nonsense again. In turns to look at Pharm and smiles and says thank you. In nods at them and In says they should go. Korn and In get up and leave. As Pharm looks at them, Dean shows up in the dream. Pharm calls out to him, but Dean just stands there. Pharm wakes up then, eyes and cheeks still a little wet with tears.

He sits up and hold’s Dean’s dog tag again. Pharm asks the dog tag where he can go because he belongs to Dean. Pharm runs out of his apartment to find Dean already coming to him. Pharm runs into Dean’s arms and Dean hugs him. Pharm says he misses Dean and Dean replies in kind. Pharm apologizes for making Dean wait and Dean says it’s okay and that he’s here. Dean also tells Pharm that he had a dream where he saw Korn and Intouch and that they’re happy now. Pharm agrees that they must be happy now. Dean tells Pharm to never do that again, which I means separate them. 

Dean then picks up Pharm bridal style. Pharm asks what he’s doing and Dean says he has to make up for lost time. Pharm tries to get Dean to let him go and Dean says that if Pharm keeps moving, Dean will throw him. Pharm then puts his arms around Dean’s neck and Dean says that’s good. Dean then throws Pharm on the bed and Pharm asks what he’s going to do. Dean says he’s going to punish Pharm for making him wait and begins to kiss his neck and everything. Finally Dean stops and the two look at each other. Pharm apologizes again for making Dean wait. But he’s sure now that their love is real. The two then kiss properly.

The next morning, the two lay in bed together with music playing. Dean asks if Pharm is tired and Pharm says he misses Dean. Dean says Pharm was the one that wanted to be apart for a bit and Pharm says he was confused at that time. Dean asks if he’s confused now and Pharm says he’s not and that he loves Dean a lot. Dean replies that he also loves Pharm and that for the past three months he’s been thinking about a lot of things. Dean also says he changed his surname. Pharm asks what he changed it to. Dean says he’s not Rattanon Wongnate but but that he’s Rattanon Chatpotkin. He took In’s surname. Dean says he wants to apologize to Intouch and Intouch’s dad by taking the surname. Pharm starts to cry because of it and Dean tells him it’s okay and Pharm thanks him. 

Dean then asks Pharm to get his wallet for him and Dean tells him to open it to see a sticky note. The first one Pharm wrote for Dean. Pharm asks if Dean knew it was him and Dean says of course he knew. He then tells Pharm to take out the photo of the siblings. Under it is a ring. Pharm asks about it and Dean says it’s Intouch’s family ring. It’s normally passed on to the son and right now Dean is the son of that family. Pharm holds it and Dean takes it and says that it might look that he didn’t put a lot of effort in, but this is the most precious thing he has right now. He then slides the ring onto Pharm’s index finger on his left hand and kisses the hand. 

Dean then asks Pharm to live with him after they graduate and Pharm agrees. Dean says they’ll always be together and never be apart again and Pharm agrees and promises. Wow, can you believe DeanPharm practically got married on screen? Dean dries Pharm’s happy tears.

Cue cute montage of great DeanPharm moments before the episode ends with photo of the cast and crew. 

[lokilickedme]

Because of "The Department", I am starting to become interested in Hozier. Are there any songs you would recommend for new listeners? Does he have anything romantic and sad?

Ohhhh my goodness.  Does he have anything romantic and sad…DOES HE HAVE ANYTHING ROMANTIC AND SAD?!  (sorry, I’m hyperventilating with excitement here)

Sit down honeypants, have I got a playlist for your listening pleasure.

First, you’re fortunate that he’s only got two officially released albums, two EPs, and a handful of covers and film tracks - because frankly the world couldn’t handle much more than what he’s given us so far.  We need time, we need to acclimate, we need to be strong enough to take it.  And for what he has given us thus far, we are thankful.  *amen*

I don’t even know where to start categorizing his songs individually, but since you specifically asked for “romantic” and “sad”, I’ll begin there:

ROMANTIC AND/OR SAD HOZIER SONGS TO PINE AND/OR YEARN TO:

Work Song - Gotta start here, for reasons.  This song is what I would call the epitome of romance.  It’s a nod to the field hymnals of the deep south, with the religious solemnity replaced by a mournful sort of romantic adoration for a lover who somehow saved him from a past he had all but lost himself to.  Sweet and gentle and worshipful, it fairly reeks of bad man redeemed by the love of a good woman.  He thanks the higher powers every day for the gift of his lover, whether the gods are listening or not, whether he is worthy of their attention or not - he no longer cares about that, because if there’s no eternal heaven for him, this moment on earth with his love is more than enough.  You are his deity now, his redeemer, his savior…and he’s at peace with his past because he knows you love him as much as he loves you.  Beautiful and hopeful, and almost painfully romantic.

Like Real People Do - Gah, I don’t even know where to start with this one.  It was inspired by Seamus Heaney’s series of poetic odes to the bog bodies discovered in the wilds of Ireland, which in itself doesn’t seem like a very ripe field to plow for romantic sentiment.  However, let me direct you to the following verse:

I will not ask you where you came fromI will not ask, and neither should youHoney just put your sweet lips on my lipsWe should just kiss like real people do

Yeah, we’re done here.  Basically it’s a vague fairy tale whose implications you’re free to ascertain for yourself.  Is it grave robbing?  Murder?  Some dark fae magic resurrecting an ancient being for some dark purpose he can’t recall? A lonely woman enlisting a disreputable spell to conjure a lover for herself from the long-dead bones of a forgotten victim?  Or was he simply buried by his grief/pain/sadness and “dug up” by the love and care of a stranger?  Whatever it is, it’s lovely.

To Be Alone -  Howling and intense, feral and wild, this is a tune to fuck to.  Romantically, of course.  The Celtic drums, the yowling chorus, the stomping that brings to mind a tribal Druid ceremony, untamed and darkly sexual in all its heathen glory…

Honey, when you kill the lightsAnd kiss my eyesI feel like a person for a moment of my life

Need I say more?  How about this:

To feel your weight in arms I’d never useIt’s the god that heroin prays to

Powerful, right?  And any song that has Feels good, god it feels good as a repetitive chorus can’t be anything but babymaking tunes.  Trust me.

Better Love - This is a film soundtrack song that appears on the ending credits of The Legend Of Tarzan.  Lush and frantically heartfelt and literally gushing with a profound romance that rises and rises until it hits a crescendo that you just gotta listen to on headphones with your eyes closed.  It’s a religious experience, the kind that’s easy to imagine yourself screaming OH GOD!! in the middle of.  Yeah, that kind.  The rising fury of the music, the piano, the horn section, his voice, is all very reminiscent of that kind of love.  Just beautiful, urgent, and will have you imagining yourself in a Victorian dress standing on the bank of a river somewhere waiting for your love to return from some distant place.

Dinner And Diatribes - Speaking of that kind of love, here we have a song that uses those very words to describe what loverboy wants and is asking for from you, his passionate yet momentarily bored significant other.  The two of you are stuck at some hideously stale social engagement and his soul is dying slowly with each dull conversation he has to participate in; his only reprieve is in staring at you from across the room and sending you subliminal messages about what he would very much like for you to do to him as soon as he gets you out of there.  Let there be hotel complaints and grievances raised, yeah that kind of love.  Romantic?  Not strictly, no, not on the face of it.  But really, what’s more romantic than knowing your partner well enough to know that one look from you across a crowded room will have them searching for a way to excuse themselves from the party so they can go home and absolutely rail you?

Scarcely can speak for my thinkingWhat you’d do to me tonightNow that the evening is slowingNow that the end is in sightHoney, it’s easier knowingWhat you’d do to me tonight 

 And we’re not even going to discuss the pounding Celtic tribal drums that set up a rhythm through the entire song that subtly mimics a headboard banging against the wall.  Rowdy loud romance at its pulse pounding best.

In A Week - Nothing says romance like two lovers decomposing in a field together, scaring the cows and slowly turning into food for the foxes and crows.  A beautiful tune, gorgeously sung as a duet with Karen Crowley.  He claims this was meant to be very tongue-in-cheek, and god I hope he’s not lying because I worry about the boy sometimes.

Nobody - My personal favorite, this one is a road song chronicling a love through comparison.  He tells his sweetheart how much he misses her, not with the actual words I miss you, but through a series of either/ors:

If I had the choice between hearing either noiseThe excitement of a thousand, or the soothing of your voiceAt first chance I’d take the bed warmed by the bodyI once warmed my hands over a burnin’ MaseratiStill I’ve had no love like your love

A cute love song full of playful devotion to an absent lover.  Just perfect.

Shrike -  I should have put this higher up on the list, I know.  You’ll understand what I mean when you listen to it.  A Shrike is a murderbird, btw.  Yeah, he’s comparing his powerful desire to express his love (after having tragically/stupidly missed a prior opportunity to do so) to a Shrike (him) impaling food on a thornbush (her).  Again, it’ll make sense when you listen to it.  A beautiful, haunting, lushly lyrical song about wistful longing.

Wasteland Baby -  This song, geezus.  The world is ending, it’s here, it’s happening, and he’s watching it all come down while sitting next to you, holding your hand, waiting for it to reach the pair of you as the flames lick the sky.  Neither of you are scared, just at peace, together, waiting for the end of it all to take you.  Oddly beautiful, and his voice - god, his voice.  Wasteland baby, I’m in love, I’m in love with you.

Movement - A love song to all the things you see in your lover that are lacking in yourself.  Poetic and poignant, coming from a towering giant with a tendency to trip over his own feet, singing about his lover being graceful and feeling moved by the way she moves.

NFWMB - Yes, it means what it looks like.  Nothing Fucks With My Baby, and yes he says that word every other line.  But the way he utters it with such dreamy conviction is just…ugh, it’s a horny song okay?  Just unabashedly horny.  And romantic, because he’s not making a bar room threat as in NOTHING fucks with my baby!!, he’s issuing a laid back warning that if you DO fuck with his baby, she will straight up fuck you up and he will sit back and watch, shaking his head in an I told you so sort of sympathy.  His baby is so terrifying that the goddamn apocalypse willingly averted itself when it saw she was in the vicinity.  An ode to a strong lover that he respects with every fiber of his being and by god you should too.

From Eden - Basically a love song from the devil’s point of view.  I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door.  That’s romantic, folks.

Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue) - My second favorite song in, like, the entire history of music.  Remember when I said NFWMB was unabashedly horny?  Well, this is a song about oral sex.  No qualms, no masking in flowery terms, and a whole lot of borderline blasphemous comparisons to religious verbiage to boot.  And it’s one hell of a banger, with Hoz howling like his baby just put her mouth on him (which is the chorus, more or less).  A no-apologies hard driving ballad devoted to fellatio, which I find oddly romantic in the simple fact that he speaks of it as a holy act of devotion.  He worships his lover, who is, ironically, the one on her knees in the holy posture of prayer in front of him.  And god does he love her for it.

Jackie And Wilson - This one is tricky, because it’s a rousing catchy tune flowing around a set of words that, once you listen carefully to them, become a whole lot of not what I thought.  He speaks of love, and of being saved, and of the attentive care that his lover gives him.  Only later do we hear the truth behind those words - that the love was obsessive and immature, that the savior casually abandoned him without even saying goodbye, that her care was no more than an amused tolerance to his childish adoration.  She knew all along that she wasn’t in it for the long haul, while he was making plans for forever.  But all hope isn’t lost - he’s not irreparably damaged, he isn’t ruined for life.  He simply goes and digs up the version of himself that he buried at the beginning, and starts again.  A little more experienced, a bit more jaded, but ready to do it all over again because maybe it’ll be right next time.  A hopefully romantic little cautionary tale that somehow doesn’t lose its playfulness, even as he’s putting out his cigarette and noticing that she’s gone.

Do I Wanna Know - this is a cover/retool of the song of the same name by Arctic Monkeys, and it is sublime in its sad yearning.  While the original is a driving, dark, sexy ode to obsessive love, Hozier’s version is a gentle, tender, hauntingly heart-tugging song about longing and uncertainty.  It’s a slow game of she loves me, she loves me not being played by a lover who is unsure if it’s worth the bother to try to fall in love with someone else if the current object of his laconic affections is no longer interested in him, or if he should just keep trying to win her back and keep the status quo as is.  And his voice…god, the way he caresses words is like he’s making love to your ears without the messy cleanup afterward.

There are more - but I’m going to draw the line here and say ENOUGH FOR NOW, YOU’RE NEW, YOU’RE NOT PREPARED FOR THE REST.  I mean…Angel of Small Death?  Sedated?  Arsonist’s Lullaby?  The hardcore underlying symbolism of his flagship ballad Take Me To Church?  It Will Come Back, for god’s sake??  No, not yet.  Go, dip your toe into the waters, and then come back when you’re ready for more…because everything this man has ever done is brilliant and beautiful and profound, and oh boy do I look forward to ruining another innocent with it all :)

[alittlemissfit]

Their Struggle

My angsty attempt to wrestle with the last words in the damn train wreck we were given. Post-ep, MSIV.  @today-in-fic

He feels it in the hug they share on the dock. She starts trembling in his arms and when he pulls back, he sees her face has gone disturbingly pale. She’s having trouble catching her breath and his eyes fall to her stomach. She’s pregnant and not breathing and their son was just shot in cold blood by a nicotine addicted bastard, and his blood runs cold but he forces it to stop.

He can’t go cold, he can’t go numb. She’s already done that enough for the both of them and by the look on her face it’s clearly taken it’s toll.

“Scully, c’mon. Breathe. Breathe, honey. I got ya,” he soothes, rubbing her back before pulling back slightly. Her eyes are still too wide, her panting too pronounced. If he doesn’t keep her steady she’ll faint and the last thing he can handle is explaining the horrific components of this night to EMT’s and nurses. He guides her away. Impersonates a pillar of strength when all he wants is to crumble to dust and be scattered in the sea to join his flesh and blood. His hand moves from the small of her back to her belly just briefly enough to counteract his will to jump off the dock, right as sirens start wailing and the squad cars pull up. They sit huddled in blankets in the back of the ambulance. Watch as the scene is surveyed and body bags are zipped up. Once the divers are sent towards the dock though Mulder swears, throws the blanket off his shoulders. Shoving past the EMT’s and the cop taking their statements he walks back towards the warehouse, chokes back a sob and punches through the first wall his fist finds. Approaching footsteps don’t deter him but a familiar grip on his bicep does. He turns slightly, winded. Sees her standing before him draped in bleached grey wool. Her eyes are wide and watery and the tears he’d blinked back start flowing full force. He’s full on weeping and she crouches beside him on the ground, strokes his hair. All the while she answers the cop’s questions in such a clinical, removed fashion it sends a chill down his spine. When she’s done giving their statements she helps him into a standing position. He’s hesitant, he makes a move to head back to the dock but she stops him. They’ll be notified. He’s in shock. He needs sleep. Too drained to argue with her they head to where the car is parked. The walk is silent save some crickets and Scully's keeping a brisk pace, remaining at least two steps ahead of him the entire time.

He pulls the key fob from his back pocket, unlocks the car. Before he can take another step she lets herself in the driver’s side door. “Scully..” “Get in the car, Mulder,” she rasps, reaching a hand out to take the keys from him. He gets in the passenger seat, buckles up and she speeds towards the highway. He holds his tongue when she rolls through a stop sign, instead opting to recline the seat back and stare up through the moonroof at the stars. His eyes get heavy and it doesn’t register that they’re home until she taps his shoulder. They trudge up the porch steps and she lets them in with her key. He promptly kicks off his shoes, sinks onto the couch while she gingerly slides off her coat. He sees her hand trembling as she hangs it on the coat rack and before he knows it, the quaking spreads to her entire body. She wraps her arms around herself and Mulder hops to his feet, moves to stand behind her. “Shhh, shh.” Her breathing is rapid again and he resists the urge to pull her to his chest, hold her as close as possible. His hands go to her shoulders but she steps away, quickly perches on the nearby ottoman. “Scully..” “I just need to sit. Just need to sit down. I…I..” She’s still fighting to take a full fucking breath and he kneels down in front of her. Tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “You’re still shaking, Scully.” “It’s fine. I…it’ll pass.” “But you-“ “Mulder, I'm fine!” Shaking his head he reaches for the afghan draped over the back of the easy chair. He moves to drape it over her but she recoils. “I’m not cold, damn it!" Scoffing he shoves the blanket into her lap, stands and turns on his heel. “Could’ve fooled me.”

The words leave his mouth before he even thinks them. Before he considers the implications and how they’ll land.

Balled up cloth is lobbed hard at the back of his head and he lets out a slow breath, pivots to face her

“Say that to my face.”

“Scully,” he pleads. Voice gruff he swallows back a lump in his throat, bows his head while she marches up to him. “Look at me and say that!" His eyes are fixed on the carpet, his feet that stagger, shuffle backward when she shoves him hard in the chest. “Look at me!"

Her voice is scratchy and shrill. It hurts his ears, hurts him to hear her. It all just fucking hurts. But she’s the only one not in the morgue tonight capable of understanding and feeling that hurt. At least he’s praying to her God that she can.

“If my being cold is my stating the facts, seeing the truth in front of me for the absolute hell that it is…” “Scully…” “The same truth that we risked our careers for, that we sacrificed for, lost loved ones for. That we became partners for...”

Her voice breaks as he meets her eyes. “This is part of our truth now, Mulder.” “I understand, Scully,” he says gruffly. “And I’m sorry. Please, you...you don’t have to-" "William wanted us to let him go. William was not meant to be. William was an experiment. William was an idea born in a laboratory.” She’s speaking raggedly, swiping tears away with her hand before her eyes surrender, squeeze shut. “Scully…" "I carried him. I bore him, but I….I was never a mother to him.” Her head bowed, shaking, Mulder moves in closer. Pulls her as tight as he can to his chest. “He wasn’t meant to be, he was an experiment. He was an idea. He..he wanted us to let him go. He wanted us to let him go,”

She repeats herself. Makes the words her mantra. Her face is pressed into his chest as her tears soak his shirt.

“I need to let go, Mulder. I don’t have a choice. I…I, damn it! I’ve never had a choice!”

Moving out of his hold she grabs a glass paperweight off of the desk.

“I should’ve been the one to shoot Spender,” she spits, throwing the tchotchke against the kitchen counter before reaching for a vase. Smashing the ceramic against the far wall.

“I should’ve made the bastard hurt. I should’ve him suffer. I should’ve stood there to watch him bleed out. I should’ve pushed his corpse off the dock myself.”

“I know,” Mulder says roughly. “Scully, I emptied my clip into him. One third of it for you, one third for William, one third for me. But if you’d been standing there, if...if I knew.”

“I should’ve known. I...I had every test run when I’d found out. But paternity..”

“You wanted to believe.”

Taking her by the shoulders Mulder gently turns her towards him.

“I did believe! I believed when I put him in your arms that night,” she chokes out, breaking free of his hold for the mantle this time.

She pushes off a row of books and their bookends, whips a Buddha statue into the corner and a candle into the railing before scrambling back for the last object. She has her hand around it and aims to throw until her thumb grazes the filled in crack in the small glass dome.

Breath hitching, she staggers back to sit back down on the couch. Turning the snow globe over in her palm she shakes it gently, watches the flakes and glitter fall on the windmill.

All Mulder can do is shake his head, look down at her pained.

“Scully…”

“He told me when he handed this back to me not to give up on the bigger picture. I…I didn’t know what that meant. I still don’t.”

“I think it means,” he says solemnly, sitting beside her as she curls into his side. “That when you’re ready, to try and see beyond the facts, Scully.”

“But they're right there, Mulder. They’re right there. All staring us in the face."

“And doing nothing but causing pain and fear and grief. I know. All that darkness is always going to be part of our truth, but the only truth that matters to me right now, in this moment, lies in that bigger picture. I know it’s not as cut and dry and logical as you’d like but it's simple, Scully. It’s clear.”

“Tell me what you see,” she begs.

“As long as you don’t accuse me of running a seance. I know your stance on those,” Mulder says, earning a flicker of a soft smile.

“What I see is you and I together. We’re safe, we're temporarily out of work, but have all the more time to put finishing touches on the nursery. We have a girl. We used to have a boy. He was taken from us, taken from us way too soon. But he knew how much we loved him. He told us so.”

“But I questioned it. I asked him how he knew. What kind of mother asks her son that?”

“The kind of mother that’s forced to. The kind that doesn’t have a choice.”

She softly whimpers then and he pulls her onto his lap, strokes her hair.

“You have a choice now though, you understand? If…if you can’t handle this, if it’s too much…forget what I said about the nursery, what I said on the dock. There’s more to me than fatherhood, Scully. There’s you. There’s your health, your happiness, your plans for the rest of your life. If those include a baby, or if they don’t…I understand. I just pray they’ll include me.”

“You didn’t need to light the candle next to mine to ensure that,” she says softly, nuzzling her cheek into his chest.

"I need you, Fox.”

Brushing his lips on the top of her head he swallows hard, holds her tighter.

“I need you too.”

“I do want this for us. I want to believe it’ll happen. But I’m afraid. I’m 54. I can’t let go of another child. But what...what if it happens? What if I can’t stop it?”

“I don’t know, Scully. I...I wish I could guarantee things. I wish it was twenty years ago. I know you said prayers aren’t wishes, but I’ll light a few candles. I’ll light a hundred if I know it’ll do any good.”

“There’s no way of knowing, Mulder. But it couldn’t hurt.”

Slowly she climbs off his lap, ducks into the bathroom as he gets to his feet. Picks the votive off the floor along with the fortunately unbroken Buddha. Going over to the fireplace he throws a log bag in, lights it before scraping up as many tea lights and cupcake candles as he can find.

When she exits the bathroom the lights are off as flames dance and flicker, casting a glow on Mulder’s face as he lies back against the arm of the couch.

“It’s not a hundred, but the fires gotta be at least thirty or forty, right?”

“That seems like a fair estimate, yeah,” she says, wiping her eyes with her sleeve before reaching for the snow globe. She gives it a shake as he shifts over, makes room for her to lie beside him.

“You’re not shaking anymore.”

“Bigger picture,” she murmurs, bringing his hand to her belly after setting the snow globe on his chest. 

“I’m thinking about the bigger picture.”