#will probably rerun this later today because its making me laugh so much

[maribel-bat]

i dont even care about the editing or anything ive been giggling since i made it and that means that it succeeded in doing what i want

[nose-bandaid]

love, at its core

hi!! i hope you're havin a good day rn 😊😊 i just saw requests are open??? i was gonna ask if i could request something with yuto?? like his s/o is chillin with him at home and then they just get hit with the realization "omg my boyfriend is just sitting there and i can kiss him any time i want??? all i have to do is ask??? is it really that simple???? what a concept..." i know its very specific but its just smth ive been thinkin about these days?? like people datin can just kiss each other any time???? its just so simple yet so special at the same time??

Yuto x (gender neutral) Reader fluff | 2k words

synopsis: waking up one day, you were hit with a curious thought that made you realize how lucky you were to have a boyfriend

a/n: here you go anon !! i hope that this is what you wanted and that i didn't get carried away with the idea 😅 enjoy<3

ngl this ended up a little similar to -27°C but i love domestic relationships so it's cool

There was something peculiar about living with your boyfriend.

Nothing had changed since yesterday, or last month, or even the year before. You've been living together for a while now and today shouldn't have been any different. It shouldn't.

However, an intriguing thought in your mind constantly nudged you to love him even more today.

When you woke up, the first thing you did was roll over onto your side to study Yuto's face. Even asleep, he was incredibly pretty and you reached a hand to brush the strands of hair that had fallen over his face. He's been growing it for quite a while now, and oftentimes he would tie it all back in a small ponytail that you thought was endearing. But you thought he looked especially fluffy when he let his hair down. The sight of it that morning, however, tickled your own face and you tucked it behind his ear with a small smile.

"Better?" You whispered, not really expecting a reply because you believed he was still asleep. But he did, in fact, whisper a quiet "better" and you locked eyes with him in surprise.

"G'morning." He croaked out, trying to rub the sleep out of his face.

"Good morning Yuto," You replied, laughing when he leaned into your touch and tried to snuggle back to bed. "It's time to wake up, sleepyhead."

He wrapped an arm around you to pull you closer, burying his face into your neck to plant a kiss there. "But there's nothing planned for today." He whined, and it came out more of a question than it did as a complaint.

You wriggled your way out of the hug and poked his cheek. "You promised you'll make breakfast today though!"

That caused him to stir.

Yuto hefted himself into a sitting position with a huff and sent you a lazy grin. "I guess you're right; I can't back out of that."

Leaning in to plant one last kiss on your forehead, he patted your shoulder before standing up. "Just stay in bed for a while longer, love. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready."

You watched him quietly as he changed out of his pyjamas and exited the bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar so that you didn't feel completely alone. Placing a hand on your cheek, you wondered why today, of all days, your heart suddenly decided to skip a beat with every word he said. With every move he made.

It was probably then, that something within you clicked and made you realize that wow, you have a boyfriend.

And you have the privilege of waking up next to him every morning and seeing him smile.

=====

You got out of bed not long after Yuto left the room. The sound of the dishes and sizzling on the stove only made you want to wake up and join him in the kitchen.

When you arrived, Yuto greeted you with a nod towards the coffee brewer, already boiled and ready to serve. On your way to grab a mug, you glanced over his shoulder to see what he was making and sent him an approving smirk.

"Looking good, Yu."

He laughed as you poured yourself a cup of the drink and returned to the table. "Are you talking about me or the food?"

You shrugged. "That's up to you. It could be both, you know."

"Well, you came just in time to eat my beautiful breakfast." He replied and transferred the food onto the plates neatly laid out on the table. His spare hand reached into the drawer behind him to grab the utensils and he handed it over to you. "Time to dig in?"

You puckered your lips slightly as you accepted the food. "Give me a kiss first?"

If the sudden request for affection surprised Yuto, he didn't show it. Instead, he promptly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in for a quick kiss on the lips. He tasted like the chapstick he always kept with him — a mix of vanilla and strawberries.

"Another, please." You asked when you separated, eliciting another one of his lighthearted laughs.

"Anything for you, love."

The kiss was deeper this time, and you blindly dropped the fork and spoon somewhere on the empty space of the table in order to wrap your arms around his neck. Beyond the sweetness of his lips, you could taste the lingering mix of morning breath and bitter coffee.

"Yuto," You muttered, breaking the kiss. "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

"That's..." He averted his gaze. "I'll do it later, I promise. Let's just eat breakfast before it gets cold?"

"Okay, okay, you win." You decided, backing off to pull yourself a chair. "Let's test out your chef skills."

The breakfast was delicious and he beamed when you praised his cooking skills. You found yourself settled right beside Yuto, as opposed to your usual seat directly in front of him. With an arm linked into his (which admittedly made eating a little more difficult for both of you), you stayed close to the warmth of his body. Placed in front of you, carefully balanced against the box of tissues was your phone playing a video that you've been wanting to show him for a long time now.

Already knowing what's going to come next, you spent most of the time watching Yuto's face, catching every reaction and comment he made about the video.

It was the mundane things like these that made you appreciate him — or even the concept of dating — even more. Sure, going out on exciting dates, sharing thrilling memories. But being able to see him do the most normal activities while having him by your side? You believed that was the peak of a relationship.

"You have something on your face." Yuto's voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you looked at him in confusion. Before you could register his words, a thumb was already wiping your cheek, clearing you of your mess. "There."

"I love you, you know that?" You blurted out the moment you got over the initial shock.

"And I love you more, you know that?" He cocked his head, mimicking your voice.

You buried your face into your hands, unable to handle his cuteness. "Gosh, you're going to be the death of me."

"I'll make sure to take credit at your funeral, then."

=====

You spent the rest of the day trailing Yuto more than you intended to. But you couldn't help it when everything he did made your heart flutter. It felt like the beginning of your relationship all over again. You were amazed when you realized that you could simply ask him for affection and you would just... receive it?

There really was someone in this world who loved you just as much as you loved them. If you asked for a kiss, Yuto would willingly kiss you — this morning was proof of that. And you knew for a fact, that if you hugged him, he would always hug you back. There was hardly a time where he didn't return the "I love you" when you said it to him. And he never forgets to show you just how much you meant to him.

They were all simple things. Things that you'd normally overlook because they were so normal. But at the same time, they were the things you treasured the most.

This concept of dating... was quite a unique one.

"Yuto~" You called out to the boy who, oddly enough, was just standing in the middle of the room, staring out the window. "Can I have a kiss?"

As much as dating piqued your curiosity, you weren't going to complain about how simple it was at its core.

Without asking any questions, Yuto pecked you softly on the cheek, lingering there for an extra moment. You could feel his lips curl up into a smile before he pulled away.

He turned back to the window and squinted his eyes when the sun shone brightly on his face. "The weather's nice today, kinda makes me want to go on a walk."

"I'll come with you!" You offered readily and he perked up at the idea.

"Is that so? Then I guess that's a good incentive to go on a walk." He hummed.

"Of course I'd come with you!" You argued, following him to the front door and slipping a light coat on. "But on one condition."

"And what's that?"

"Let me hold your hand?"

After his shoes were put on, he quietly held out his hand for you to take, and that was enough of an answer.

======

Later in the evening, the two of you were relaxing on the couch watching a rerun of an old show you've watched far too many times now. But with the comfort of the plot and the way it never failed to make you laugh, neither of you minded.

Yuto let you hug his arm as you played with one of his hands. Like this morning, you found yourself spending more time thinking about him, and the show soon became background noise. You inspected every inch of his hand, placing soft kisses on it once in a while. You thought it was incredible, how every single part of him — both inside and out — could be so beautiful.

"What's up with you today?" He asked playfully when you finally distracted him enough to tear his eyes away from the screen. In the back of your mind, you noticed you were both missing out on one of your favourite scenes. "You've been clingier than usual since morning, did I miss something?"

When you didn't answer right away, Yuto's eyes widened as he suddenly sat straight up. "Wait, I didn't miss something, right?"

You laughed at his reaction and pat his shoulder reassuringly. "There's nothing special happening today, Yu, don't worry. I was just thinking..."

"About?" He relaxed back into the couch and let you pull him into your embrace.

You pondered over how to answer him for a couple of seconds. "About how lucky I am to have you."

"That's it?" He asked, baffled at the simplicity.

"Well, in short, yeah." You hesitantly answered and met his gaze when you felt it burning into you. The look in his eyes was a familiar one; a mix of curiosity and determination as he encouraged you to continue.

"It's normal for me to wake up next to you, and see you go to work, and watch stupid shows together and eat meals together and kiss each other goodnight. I don't normally think twice about all of that. But this morning, I realized that being able to do those things with you is so special and I'm so lucky to have you as my boyfriend."

"You know," He started thoughtfully and laced the hand you were holding into yours, tracing light patterns with his thumb. "I've never thought about it that way until you mentioned it."

"It puts things in a different perspective, doesn't it?"

Yuto's eyes wandered as he spoke. "It does, and it's a nice reminder to appreciate everything that we have right now."

"Exactly!" You agreed, happy that he understood what you were getting at.

"Is this why you've been exploiting my kisses today then?"

You froze. "Uh, maybe?"

"And to think that I was worried about missing something important." He let out a dramatic sigh.

"Listen, this was important okay!"

"I know, I know." He moved your clasped hands onto his lap, pulling you closer to him. "I'm glad you brought it up, it's a nice thing to think about."

The two of you settled into a comfortable silence to focus on the last few minutes of the show, everything long forgotten until the credits rolled across the screen. Yuto shut off the TV once they did, tired of the mindless entertainment and stretched as you spoke up again.

"So... I can still have another kiss though, right?"

He smiled. "Yes, of course, you can."

[robron1609]

Remembering Robron 2020

Day 2 - Friendship

Prompt: "You took all the pillows, so I'm using you as one."

AO3 Link:

Pillows

Robert guarded the mountain of creased, misshapen pillows at the foot of his bed, a smirk spreading across his face. Aaron sat across from him, leaning on the headrest with his knees drawn up to his chest as he held his chin up high. His feet relentlessly prodded Robert in the back of the kneecap, much to no gain.

“Seriously?” Aaron sulked, regaining his lost breath.

Robert leant backwards, letting the pile of pillows consume him to rub it in his best friend’s face. His lanky, overly smug frame was stretched to its limit, sprawled out across the feather-soft barrier of pillows and blocking Aaron’s access to each and every single one of them.

Robert sniggered, “Just because you’re weak, mate.”

“You have five hundred pillows and won’t even give me one?”

Robert craned his neck, peering around the mess on his bedroom floor. He shifted his weight to reach for a rather large plush toy cat with a pink bowtie that Victoria had left discarded in his room the night before. He lobbed it at Aaron who caught it with a scowl.

“There you go.”

“Cheers.” Aaron replied, shooting Robert a melodramatic smile that spewed sarcasm.

Aaron flung the fuzzy cat up in the air before booting it across the bedroom, watching as it slammed into the bedroom door with such momentum that the power of it brushed the sticker-littered door shut.

“Nice one.” Robert remarked, his eyes closed as he rested his hands on his stomach. Aaron’s gaze had naturally landed on the rise and fall that came from Robert’s steady breathing before drifting up to his light pink lips that twitched a little when he was really relaxed; but it went a miss by both lads.

Aaron sighed before getting up to route through Robert’s desk for the television remote. The only noise in the meantime was the rhythmic ticking of the slanted clock on the wall. It was framed by a few pieces of homework and revision that Robert’s dorky brain had deemed important enough to pin up on the wall for the duration of Year 11.

The noise of the second hand then faded away, replaced with the distant nattering of Jack and Andy’s voices coming from somewhere downstairs, bouncing off the stone walls at an irritating volume. They sounded joyous, laughter trickling into their conversation and all it did was wind Aaron up, reminding him of Robert’s countless rants on the way home from school each afternoon. He would go on and on about how his dad and brother grew closer each day, pushing Robert further and further into that blind spot. Each bluster would always finish in tears that flowed freely by the time they ended up at Robert’s front porch.

Letting it go, Aaron finally ended up with the TV remote in his hand. He pointed it at the TV but got nothing in return. Scoffing, he peeled the back off, only to be greeted by a blank, empty space where the batteries should be. He chucked the control on the bed with a frustrated puff of his cheeks.

“Andy stole ‘em.” Robert simply said. Aaron just rolled his eyes because what else would he do?

As the sun set, Aaron successfully hunted down a pack of double A’s and the two friends shared a greasy, takeaway pizza under the glow of Robert’s lava lamp with reruns of Top Gear playing on the 24 inch television screen. The window rattled and howled and there was a chill in the bedroom as powerful gusts of winds squeezed through the cracks in the windowpane, jumping at each boom and clash of thunder. If Robert listened really carefully, he could hear the familiar sound of the loose TV aerial flapping against the chimney. It was a miracle that they were seeing any pixels at all as the sound kept dipping and cutting off. But neither Robert or Aaron cared, they were just grateful to be in each other’s company.

They were both stuck in the exact same positions as earlier, Robert submerged in his pretentious amount of pillows and Aaron at the other end of the bed, wrapped tightly in Robert’s duvet. As he wiped his lips with the sleeve of his school jumper, Aaron tossed the now empty pizza box aside. High pitch but almost inaudible whistle sounds came from Robert’s nostrils with each slow breath he emitted and Aaron stopped blinking, fighting away a smile. He shuffled around, dragging his duvet cape with him as he rested his head on Robert’s belly. He let out a content sigh.

“What are you doing?” Came Robert’s anxious voice.

“You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one.”

Aaron’s victory was small. It meant nothing, it was just Aaron being his cheeky self. But the trail of sweat clinging to Robert’s back disagreed. He had gone from warm to hot and didn’t know what to do with himself. He wanted to jump up and shake away that feeling of the back of Aaron’s head pressing on his tingling stomach, the hair at the nape of Aaron’s neck tickling his belly button. Robert’s weary eyes flickered to the clock. It was nearly nine thirty.

“You should probably get home.” Robert said, sitting up so that Aaron had no choice but to shift with a groan.

Aaron frowned, “I thought I was sleeping round tonight?”

“I just remembered I’m needed on the farm in the morning.” Robert muttered. “You’ll probably deck me if I wake ya up at the crack of dawn.”

Robert couldn’t tell if his lies were absorbent enough for Aaron to soak up but either way there was a glint of dread in Aaron’s eyes that shattered his heart into lots of little pieces. He cleared his throat before handing Aaron his tattered school bag, eyes going blurry as he focused on the large coca-cola stain at the bottom of it.

“Sorry.”

Aaron just grabbed his blazer, swinging it over his shoulder as he scuffed his shoes across the hardwood floors. Once Robert had glimpsed out the window to see Aaron trudging down the driveway past the puddles that were reflecting the orange glow of the outside light bulbs, Robert slumped miserably against the back of his bedroom door and let the floodgates open, tears rolling down his pink cheeks one by one.

The following Monday came around quicker than the flick of a cat’s tail and Robert stood in their usual afterschool spot, shivering from the cold as he waited for Aaron to turn up. He leant against the rotting fence, grimacing at the streaks of moss and grime whilst watching the caretaker tirelessly shovel piles of grit onto the icy road.

Him and Aaron had a routine. The same routine they’d been doing together since that fateful day they became friends nearly two years ago. They would meet by salt bins at the top of the school field, start the treacherous path to the bus stop, hop on the bus to Emmerdale and listen to the same songs on Robert’s MP3 player that he’d bought with months worth of pocket money, chatter on their way up to Butler’s Farm and spend the evening playing monopoly or scrabble in front of the log burner as they toasted marshmallows. Most nights they would pair up to scramble something together in the kitchen whilst Jack and Andy grafted on the farm all night. But on Friday’s, they would both chip in to order a takeaway, whether that be pizza or curry. Never fish and chips though, Aaron was oddly persistent about that. They’d eat, they’d laugh and then if he wasn’t staying over Aaron would begrudgingly get the last bus home.

Robert couldn’t imagine his life without Aaron. Now now, not ever. Whatever he dreamed of, whatever he envisioned for his future; Aaron was always there. It all started on Aaron’s 14th birthday a couple of years ago, also known as the first day that a broken Robert had to go back to school without his mum there to fasten his tie and make his packed lunch in the morning. That whole day had been a blur and every inch of his body felt numb. He’d walked around with the kind of pain he would never wish on his worst enemy. That was until the last lesson of the day - Physics. This mouthy chav with weird spikey hair slouched on the chair next to him, wearing a giant ‘14’ badge and chewing way too much gum. He had somehow stayed in Robert’s life, and heart, from that day on.

Today, however, it was getting dark and Aaron was still nowhere to be seen. So for the first time in two years, Robert stepped on the empty bus back to Emmerdale by himself.

When he arrived home, he creaked the door open and flicked his bedroom light on, shuddering at the silence. He dumped his bag and let out a wivering sigh as he sat on the edge of his bed to pull his shoes off, letting them tumble carelessly to the floor. He sniffed, swallowing the scared, cowardly lump at the back of his throat. His watery eyes landed on the small collection of framed pictures on his dusty windowsill; one of his mum sporting an infectious smile a few months before she’d died, and one of himself, Aaron and Liv. He’d only met Aaron’s little sister and step mum once - the day they’d posed for that photo together. He hadn’t stayed for long, Aaron had been on edge the whole time, sending Robert away before his dad had even returned home from work. Aaron never speaks of the day he let Robert come round.

The display on Robert’s nokia came to life and Aaron’s name flickered on the screen. Robert answered it as quickly as humanly possible.

“Aaron? Where were you after school?”

”Can I come over?”

“Of course.”

The only response was a bleep at the other end of the line so Robert stayed put. And waited. And waited some more. Until an hour or so later when Aaron snuck into Robert’s bedroom, snowflakes melting away on his coat. Robert gasped slightly, eyebrows pressed together in a frown as he told Aaron to put his sopping wet jacket on the radiator and chucked him a chunky woolen blanket.

Aaron cosied up in Robert’s desk chair, picking away at the peeling leather on the side. He chewed nervously at the inside of his cheeks, gazing up at Robert through his eyelashes.

“Why did you suddenly get rid of me on Friday? And don’t lie to me again.”

“I- I told you.” Robert stammered, after a moment of uncomfortable silence that ran Aaron’s patience thin. “I was busy.”

“And I told you I don’t believe you.” Aaron retorted.

It wasn’t a complete fib. Robert had been busy, just not on the farm like he’d claimed. He’d spent that entire morning feeling sorry for himself, laying in bed as he stared vacantly at the cracks and tears on his bedroom ceiling with a stinging heart. Aaron’s name had illuminated Robert’s phone screen for hours, staring him in the face. It nudged him until the battery fell flat and Robert sulked over not having the bottle to press the green button. Instead of nicking the charger from Andy’s room, Robert threw his phone in the wicker shoe basket next to his wardrobe and buried his hand in the sand. Well, his pillow.

Robert wasn’t stupid. He knew that as much as he wanted it to, this... crush he had on his best friend wasn’t going away. It began as a flutter in the bottom of his stomach when Aaron did as much as give him the time of day. And as their friendship grew stronger, that little butterfly that Robert had gotten used to reproduced. It multiplied until a flock of them took over Robert’s body in a matter of months and it was powerful.

Aaron wasn’t stupid either. He’d noticed the not-so-subtle shift in their dynamic. At some point in the past couple of months, when they came back to the farm after school, the scratchy living room carpet they sat cross legged on had changed to the lumps and bumps of Robert’s spring mattress that had seen better days, the awkward silence had changed to a lack of boundaries, the playful slaps and punches had changed to hugs that lasted for just a little too long and the one versus one football matches in the park had changed to stingy little dinner dates that they both turned up to looking their best.

The squeaking of the wheels from his desk chair brought Robert back into the room and he looked up to find Aaron spinning in circles on the chair, like what Vic does when she’s waiting for her big brother to get off his arse and play Vets with her.

Robert perched at the edge of his bed, drumming on his knees.

Aaron spoke tentatively, “What is it, really? I can take it.”

Robert stuck his leg out, hooking the bottom of Aaron’s chair with his foot. It stopped spinning abruptly and Aaron then realised just how serious Robert’s tensed features were.

“Do you remember last summer when you caught me kissing that boy in one of the barns?” Robert asked, a little clumsily as he raced through his words.

“Yeah, the farmhand. We never spoke about that.”

“We didn’t need to.” Robert exhaled shakily. “Anyway, things went a little further. We ended up in here.”

Aaron felt a wave of jealousy splash over his feet which he tried his utmost hardest to ignore. “Okay. And then what happened?”

“My dad caught us before anything could happen. He sacked him on the spot and then he- he beat me black and blue, basically. He started proper shouting, kept saying how no son of his would ever-” The strain in Robert’s throat caught up with him and he couldn’t breath, scraping for air as his tears burned and hushed him. He felt Aaron’s hands on his trembling back, pulling him close enough to feel Aaron’s chest heaving in sync against his. It calmed him like a lullaby.

Robert could still feel the bruises from Jack's disgust that marked him for days. They’d followed him the next morning when he hobbled over to the church, sobbing and desperate to talk to his mum again. Just to feel her arms around him one last time, listen to her calming voice tell him that he was loved for who he was.

“Listen to me.” Aaron put his palms either side of Robert’s face, tilting the blond’s heavy head up to meet his eyes. “Whoever you like, whatever you like, it doesn’t matter. Okay? You’re still so amazing and Jack is mad for not seeing that.”

“Do you really mean that?” Robert asked through a sniffle.

“Of course.” Aaron smiled, rubbing Robert’s back to sooth him.

Robert dabbed at his tears with a balled up fist under his sleeve, counting softly and silently to try and calm his uneven breathing. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5. Aaron lunged forward to give Robert a tight hug. He nestled his head in the crook of Robert’s neck and Robert let one last tear fall, melting in Aaron’s uplifting embrace. With Robert’s nose snug against Aaron’s shoulder, he inhaled the warming scent of his best friend and the corner of his lips curled up. It was like he got high off Aaron’s smell and often used, no, needed it as relief when his head was mashed. Except this time, he couldn’t seem to get enough and when Aaron let him go he delved in, eyes squeezed shut, and planted his lips on Aaron’s. But before he even knew what he was doing, he felt Aaron’s palms press firmly on his chest, pushing him away.

“What are you doing?” Aaron gulped, a flash of panic flying across his face. He backed away from Robert like a threatened animal at the zoo.

Robert’s stare flicked repeatedly between Aaron’s slightly parted lips and his hand that hovered over the door handle ready to flee if need be. Except Aaron wasn’t leaving. He’d froze on the spot, chin trembling as his eyes glued themselves to Robert’s. It was like he wanted to tear them away with every fibre of his being but something was stopping him.

Robert shrugged, “I- I’m sorry.”

And he honestly didn’t know what was running through Aaron’s mind. Perhaps it was a reflection of his own memories. Vivid images of Aaron clicking his pen on the desk at school, head resting on the palm of his hand as waited for the bell to ring. When he thought Robert was solely focused on jotting down notes, Aaron would often let his eyes avert to the odd boy who had been taking up his daydreams that week. Wistfully gazing into the back of some boy’s head until he snapped his attention away and frantically scribbled in his text book, acting like all those thoughts and labels whirling around his mind from day to day weren’t important.

Robert had picked up on it and it kept him awake at night.

It had landed them both to this moment right now.

“Robert?” Aaron’s voice was timid.

“Mm?”

Aaron reached to put his arms around Robert’s neck, gently pulling him closer until their lips met again. Robert relaxed and kissed him back in a heartbeat.

 

8 Years Later

Aaron dangled the key to his and Robert’s new home off the tip of his finger. Their first home. He was standing in the centre of the unfurnished flat, Robert’s arm draped over his shoulder as he beamed at his fiancé.

“It’s going to take a lot of work but-”

Aaron cut Robert off, “It doesn’t matter, it’s already perfect.”

“Soft lad.” Robert noted.

“Oi!" Aaron jabbed Robert in the stomach. "There’s only one soft lad around here and it’s not me.”

Robert gave a light laugh before worming his hand around the back of Aaron’s neck and smiling into a kiss.

Years ago, as the last year of school had drawn to a close, the two of them had gone their separate ways. When their little bubble of secrecy burst and the honeymoon period came to an abrupt end, Robert fell to the black sheep of his family. With a long summer ahead, the feuding became tiresome and eventually drove him out of the village as autumn loomed. Aaron woke up one morning and Robert just wasn’t there. No note, no goodbye, nothing. Just a cold pillow and a long continuous beep when his number was dialled.

Aaron had never needed him more when things at home spiraled into dark, nasty and uncharted places and he felt constantly bruised and suffocated under the monstrous hands of the one person who was supposed to love him and keep him safe. With the help of Sandra and his mum, he’d successfully fought tooth and nail to put his so called father behind bars and leave him to rot all the way to hell.

Him and his mum's relationship had had a bumpy start but that can be expected when coming face to face for the first time in over a decade in a courtroom of all places. Hardly ideal. However, Chas battled seamlessly to prove herself and now they had got back the bond Aaron had dreamed of having since the day she upped and left. Aaron had got his life back. Even if it was incomplete until Robert had returned.

And as for Robert… well, that's a story for another day. For now, it remains one of those questions that lives on unanswered.

"So, pub or takeaway? Unless you want to cook." Robert asked, snagging Aaron's train of thought.

Aaron snorted, "And wake up on moving day with food poisoning? Nah, you're alright."

"Fair enough. Pizza it is." Robert patted himself down in search of his phone and pulled it out, his back scraping down the wall until he landed on the floor with a thud.

Aaron slid his hands in his pockets and parroted Robert, legs stuck out in front of him as he sat.

"We should've brought a cushion or something." Robert pointed out.

Aaron looked at Robert like he had hung the moon. "Don't need a pillow, I've got you for that."

As Aaron curled up and snuggled his head between Robert's stomach and lap, Robert wondered how his heart hadn't swelled up so much that it burst through the defences of his ribcage and flustered skin. Robert truly counted his luck stars because if he ever lost Aaron, he would lose his heart as well. But they were a long way from that. In this moment, his hand covered Aaron's and their engagement rings clinked together in sweet harmony.

[sand-rose]

Magia Rapport Days I Didn’t Get To Until Now

There’s a lot of prompts I wanted to do but just didn’t get to, so I’m just gonna condense most of them into this post. Some of them I might go back to later and draw something for, but no guarantees.

Day 2- What is your proudest achievement in the game?

Finally getting Tart and Riz on their rerun banners! I’m about 80% F2P and the other 20% is divided up by Konoha, Madoka, and mostly Riz. I had enough gems and tickets saved up for Tart, but not for Riz. But after reading the last book of Tart Magica I had to get them both. They only have a slot apiece but they’re still very precious to me now that I have them!

Day 4- Who is your favorite of the light-element girls and why?

Tart, definitely! I’ve always had a soft spot for Joan of Arc thanks to a project I did about her in middle school. Seeing her in Madoka Magica as Kyubey mentioned the importance of Magical Girls in history really sparked my interest, and I was ecstatic when I found out there was a spin off manga. So you can only imagine how happy I was that they included her story and its characters in Magia Record! She’s just such a gentle soul who has such an amazing story, and she loves her friends and country so so much!

Day 5- Pair Yachiyo with a strong emotion. What is she feeling and why is she feeling this way?

Yachiyo is feeling content. She knows life can be tough, but she’s quite content knowing she has a successful modeling career and is (probably) doing well in her college classes. And most importantly, she’s got a new family in the Mikazuki Villa household that loves and accepts her for her strengths and weaknesses.

Day 7- Uh oh- it looks like Kyubey has found you. What would you wish for, and subsequently, what would turn you into a witch?

Welp, I’m older than the girls he usually targets. lol But ignoring this... I would wish for a happy, stress-free life with my sweetness, a life where things always go our way and we always have enough money to sustain ourselves and others around us. I know there’s probably a chance for something to go wrong in my wish, but I tried my best. lol As for what would turn me into a witch... Probably lots of negative thoughts about the world and people in general. But I’m hoping a stress-free life would prevent that. lol

Day 8- Who is your favorite of the dark-element girls and why?

Riz! She’s fiercely loyal to Tart, and she was a very interesting character in Tart Magica. I love how she’s the dark to Tart’s light, they work so well together and she was willing to do anything to make sure Tart fulfilled her wish. After everything she had been through in searching for that light, I couldn’t help but grow attached to her character.

Day 9- Tsuruno is the mightiest magical girl! Create a scenario where she takes down her greatest enemy.

I’m just imagining Tsuruno walking down a street and seeing a poster advertising a competing Chinese restuarant’s new dish or sales. She’d probably squint her eyes at it, look around really quick to make sure no one’s watching, and rip the poster from the building and crumple it into a ball. If someone happened to see... “What’s that?” “It’s the enemy!”

Day 12- Who is your favorite of the aqua-element girls and why?

I really like Konoha! I love her butterfly aesthetic and her color scheme. But I also just really enjoy her interactions with Hazuki and Ayame. Her character growth since their event makes me so proud of her, and I’m glad she’s learning to work with others and opening up more. And I admire her desire to get better at cooking, but maybe she should stop trying for health and safety reasons. lol

Day 13- Felicia is grumpy today. Why do you think that might be?

Maybe she forgot to save her game and has to rebuild a bunch of stuff? I know that would make me grumpy!

Day 14- What is your favorite relationship in the game and what activity are they doing together on Valentine’s Day? (If you don’t ship anyone, substitute with your favorite friendship!)

I really like Masara and Kokoro together! They would probably trade chocolate and go for a hike. And I got to see my favorite friendship in the Valentine’s Day events with Hinano’s story. Emiri cheered her on and when Hinano got rejected she gave her friend the support she needed! And their dynamic is always making me laugh!

Day 16- Who is your favorite of the forest-element girls and why?

Gotta go with Hinano! Her character grew on me the more I got to see her and Emiri interact. She’s older than most of the girls but she still has a childish side to her, what with her temper tantrums and dream to grow taller. And I just love her attack style. Chemicals and beakers just being thrown at the enemy is a joy to watch every time!

Day 20- Who is your favorite of the flame-element girls and why?

The mightiest magical girl Tsuruno! She’s so energetic, I envy her. lol But she’s always trying her best to help others, and she’s such a hard worker. The fact that the game addressed these as both her strengths and weaknesses really impressed me. There’s only so much a person can handle, and that part of the story really connected with me. And I just love how loud and expressive she is! I don’t think I’ll ever tire of hearing her battle cries! lol

Day 23- What character would you hug if you could?

All these girls need a hug, after everything they’ve had to deal with. But Sana’s story is especially sad. There was no damn reason for her family to be so cruel. Sana deserves all the hugs.

Day 24- Who is your favorite spinoff character? How do you think they would interact with Iroha?

Tart, of course! I really liked how she got along with Iroha. They’re both very kind characters who aren’t afraid to get tough when the situation calls for it.

Day 27- Mitama is taking a well-earned rest. What is she dreaming about right now?

Hopefully something pleasant. Maybe in her dream she decided to skip cooking and went out to eat and is putting ketchup on some fries, where it belongs.

Day 29- What moment, concept, or character makes you happiest in Magia Record?

Mitama is my favorite character, and I really enjoyed learning more about her. Her wish made me wonder if she would turn out to be a villain, but I’m so so happy she made friends with the Kamihama magical girls and chose their side in the chapter 8 conflict! So proud of her! And she’s just so quirky. Her cooking is terribly terrible, for example. Perhaps even worse than Konoha’s. At least Konoha cooks with food. Who cooks with paint? Do her parents cook like that? Or does she cook like that because she saw some weird videos on the Magia Record equivalent of tik tok? And she’s got the blue rose aesthetic. I just absolutely love blue roses. So anytime I see her in the story, an event, or just on my home screen, she’s just an instant mood booster!

[welcometotheheartbreakhotel]

whenyoulovesomeone

Pairing: Ateez Mingi & Y/N

Genre: fluff, angst(?)

Word count: 2921

summary:

after a long night of staying up, waiting for your boyfriend to get home from yet another late practice, you take notice of just how tired and run down your boyfriend mingi looks and it breaks your heart knowing what little there is for you to do than to love him and stand by him. 

it wasn’t rare for mingi to be home late. it was quite the norm, really, but today was peculiar. he always made it home no later than 1am, and it was well past that right now. you knew the boys were preparing for a comeback and were probably working endlessly to master choreography. they were always persistent, a trait you greatly admired.

you knew that mingi wasn’t too keen on ou staying up so late waiting for him, but with each minute he wasn’t home, the more anxious you become, worry filling your mind. you plopped down on the sofa, turning the tv on to fill the silence of the empty room, flipping the channel to an old rerun of the notebook.

at around 3:15am, the familiar sound of keys jingling and the lock switching signaling the arrival of your boyfriend interrupted your lazy viewing of the movie. you watched as he tiredly nudged his sneakers off, his shoulders drooping in a mix of emotional and physical exhaustion. your lips formed a small pout as you heard him sigh loudly, having struggled to slip his left shoe off due to the tight laces.

“you made it home.” you mused, as you called out to him from your place on the sofa.

“you’re still awake.” he stated matter-of-factly, as he made his way to the living room.

mingi, without much warning, let himself fall face-down onto the sofa you were currently seated at, his head on the pillow on your lap.  your lips curled into a small smile, your hands reaching to comb their fingers through his soft, ebony hair. you felt him sigh against the pillow, his shoulders rising slightly, and he gently nuzzled your hands, signaling you to keep doing your previous minitrations. you obliged.

“long day, huh?”

‘mmhm.” he answered, his voice muffled. you idly combed through his hair with your fingers, hoping to bring some comfort to him. 

you leaned down to press a kiss to the back of his head. as soon as your lips touched his head, your nose caught the heavy smell of wintergreen, and your lingering eyes found what you could easily identify as pain relief tape peeking out from the collar of his shirt. he must be so sore and tired, you thought..

“you guys practiced a lot today.” you said.

“mmhm,” he hummed.

“your body must be hurting from how sore it is.”

you felt mingi shift his body around so that he could look at you. dark circles pooled at the bottom of his eyes. his eyelids appeared to weigh tons as they struggled to open whenever the closed. your heart ached at the sight before you. you wanted to support mingi in the pursuit of his dreams, but having to watch his body and health deteriorate whenever the group had a comeback made you heart hurt.

“im okay, though.” he smiled, tiredly. “it will pay off.”

“im sorry.” your voice was soft, you felt that if you spoke just a bit louder your voice would break and you'd cry from the heartache.

“why are you sorry?” his tired eyes widened, just a little, as they gazed up at you, trying to gauge your expression.

“because i can’t do anything to make you feel better.” you looked down at him, your hand gently caressing his cheek. you could feel tears at the brims of your eyes, but you didn’t dare let mingi see them fall. “the only thing i can do is just be here.”

“and that’s more than enough.” his hand took yours in his and pressed it against his lips. it was something so small, and yet that gesture brought some ease to your heart.

“let’s get you to bed, okay?”

taking his hand, you led mingi to your shared bedroom, but not before leading him into the attached bathroom to help him wash up. he pouted as you lathered facial cleanser on his face to remove any makeup he had on for the day.

“the water’s too cold~” he shivered, as you splashed a handful against his face to rinse the soap off.

“baby, its warm.”

“but it still feels cold.” he looked up at you with the most heart-wrenching pout and puppy dog eyes..

“im done, though.” you said, patting his face dry with a soft towel.

“hmmm….”

you applied some night cream on his face, taking your time to make sure his face was entirely covered and moisturized. every now and then, you noticed him nod off and you took advantage of one of those quick bursts of sleep to briefly walk out of the bathroom to retrieve some of his sweats and a clean tee from the drawers in your closet only to come back to find a very sleepy mingi pouting, as he looked longingly at you.

“you left.”

“i just went to get you clothes, baby.”

“but i was alone.”

“baby, i was literally gone for 10 seconds.”

“10 seconds is 10 hours in mingi time.” he said, matter-of-factly.

“im sorry,” you gently rustled his hair with one of your hands.” now, come on. let’s get you out of these clothes and into something more comfortable for you to sleep.”

you had to do most of the work, mingi being too tired to even open his eyes, you started by slipping the flannel off of his broad shoulders.

“arms up.” you told him, and like a child, he sleepily raised his arm above his head, allowing you to slip his t-shirt over his head. you nudged for him to stand up, to which he whined quietly.

mingi practically forced himself to stand, but just barely. his legs wobbled from how tired he was, and ultimately, you had to put his hands on your shoulders for him to stay upright. your fingertips lightly touched his tummy as you tried to undo the button of his jeans.

“babe, i’ll never say this ever again in my life… but i’m too tired to-”

“song mingi, i can’t let you sleep in jeans.”

“hm?” his tired eyes blinked at you, confused.

you chuckled. “‘i’m trying to take off your pants so i can change your clothes, not to get freaky.”

“why not?”

you rolled your eyes. he was always like this when he was tired. just a giant baby, even if it was abut something as unchildlike as having sex.

“you just said you were tired.”

“i can drink coffee if you want me to.”

“what i want is for you to rest.”

you managed to get him out of his jeans without much struggle. he took the sweats from the bathroom counter, and put them on, wobbling a bit. you got his t-shirt to help him put it on, but he took it from your hands, and again, much like a child, he put the shirt on arms first, getting his head somewhat caught in the neck hole. 

with a small smile, you helped him pull the shirt down, coming face to face with him, his cheeks flushed. you took his face in your hands and pressed a small kiss to his lips. you could feel him tense up a bit from bewilderment, but nonetheless, met your lips with equal pressure.

taking his hand again, you led him out of the bathroom. both of you took to your designated sides on the bed, mingi wasting no time to plop himself onto it, sprawling his long arms wide, motioning for you to come into his embrace, and you, almost too willingly, obliged.

being in mingi’s arms was a feeling like no other. it was one of your most favorite feelings in the world, your most favorite being was every time he told you he loved you. being in his arms made you feel so loved, without him having to say anything. so protected, without having to be in the face of danger. so warm, without being cold. 

“what are you thinking about right now?” he asked, his voice soft.

“my favorite place..”

“oh? and where’s that?”

“right here,” you said, wrapping our arms around him tightly, looking up at him with a smile.

“that’s so cheesy.”

“and what about it?” you rose an eyebrow. “if im cheesy, you’re wine-y.”

you looked up to steal a glance at him, only to catch him cracking a smile as he tried to hold back laughter. a small bubble of a giggle emerged from his lips, and the sound brought you to laugh along with him. his laughter was small compared to his usual booming thunder, but it was still enough for his eyes to turn into the crescent ,moons you loved so much. 

it was moments like these, where you’d catch him being so innocently happy that made your heart twinge in absolute happiness. he was so beautiful when he smiled, and he had no idea just how breathtaking he was. you were so in awe of his beauty, you hadn’t realized you’d gone silent.. 

mingi looked down at you, curiosity in his eyes, and for a moment, that’s all there was. just the two of you, silently staring at each other, with the faint traces of smiles on your faces.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, quietly.

“”you’re so pretty.”

“no~ really.” he rolled his eyes.

“i’m serious.” you lightly caressed his face with your hand. “you’re the prettiest when you smile.”

a soft blush tinted his cheeks and he looked away for a moment to try and gain some composure.

“that’s my line.”

“it’s mine now.” you smiled. you hesitated a bit before continuing. “i want you to always smile and be happy. every time i see you so tired and sad, it makes me want to take you far away so that i can make you happy and keep your smile.”

“babe…”

“i know, i know.” you sighed. “you’re already doing what you love and what makes you happy. i just wish that it wouldn’t get tough for you and that the company wasn’t so hard on you guys about constantly having to work and practice. you already work so hard. i wish they could see what i see. how tired you are when you get home. how swollen your feet get from all the dancing. remember when we had to cut your shoes off because of how swollen your feet were? or how you had to go to a physical therapist because of how stiff your back muscles had gotten from all the knots caused by stress? seeing you silently suffer like that made me so sad. all i want is to take that all away. there are times when i wish for it to be me going through your pain, so you won’t have to.” you looked up at him again, but his eyes were focused on the wall across the room. you could tell that they were glassy and beginning to tear up.” oh no… baby, no. i didn’t mean for you to cry.”

“i’m not.” he lied, rubbing at his eyes. “i just… i didn't know you felt like this.”

“it’s all i can think of sometimes. especially when i wake up and i see you’ve gone to practice early, or like tonight and you come home so late. you don’t see yourself, but you’re all i see, so believe me when i say that it kills me to see you tearing yourself apart to give your best.”

he stayed quiet for a moment, thinking about what to say. ”i want to show the world that i can do it. that i can be great. that i can be everything that they said i couldn’t be. i honestly don’t care about what i have to do or what it takes. i can forget how hard it is for me, or how much i’m hurting as long as i have you by my side. just the thought of you is enough to get me through the day. i want to be able to provide for you and make you proud of being by my side. i want… i want to be the man that has the privilege to love you, that deserves to be with you, because babe, i honestly don’t deserve you.”

“do you really think that?” your eyebrows knit together. you’d always had it backwards. it was you who didn’t deserve someone as amazing as mingi.

“mhm.” he nodded, wiping a stray tear from his cheek.

“baby, no,” you tsked, “you are so great. so much greater than you even think you are. this world isn’t even ready to see just how great you are and can be. if anyone doesn’t deserve anyone, it’s me.” you sighed. “ you’ve got so much going for you. you’ve got your rapping, your dancing, you can even sing, for fucks sake! you’re handsome to top it all off, and it’s kind of unfair just how much of a full package you are.”

“stop~”

“no, but i’m serious. you’re everything i could ever want and beyond.” you gathered his face in your hands, making him look at you. “don’t you know how amazing you are?”

his eyes were wide like a child, so innocent and beautiful. he shook his head no, and the image made your heart swell. you pressed a kiss to his lips once more, the second of the night. it was the smallest of gestures, but you wanted to show him how much you loved and cared for him. you wanted to show him that as chaotic as the world might be, you’d be there to shelter him from it all. to protect him and bring him peace. you wanted to make his world easier to live in, so that he wouldn’t have to struggle anymore.

you felt him hesitate before he returned your kiss, the pressure he provided being needy, but not in a lustful way. no. in a need that wanted you closer. closer than the contact of skin on skin could provide. you felt one of his hands reach up to touch your face, the other that had been resting around your shoulders pulled you in closer.

“always be with me, hm?” he asked. “can you promise me that no matter what happens, no matter how early i leave or how long i stay out to practice, or how often i might miss important days, or how tired i might be to give you the attention you deserve, that you’ll always be there for me to come home to?”

“mingi…”

“will you be my home, y/n?” he waited eagerly for your answer. “please?”

“baby, of course you know i’ll always be. you’re mine.” you knew just how big mingi’s heart was, but it always leaves you in awe just how tender and soft-hearted he really was. he was someone filled with so much, so ready to give it to the world. you touched his face, gently rubbing your thumb under his eyes, hovering the dark circles that pooled beneath. “baby?”

“mhm?” 

“will you promise me to rest more? if you don’t, you’re going to end up getting sick, or worse.” you felt him stiffen, about to protest, but you quickly cut him off. “this is all i ask. i need you to be healthy, and here for me to stay and wait for you. as long as you do that, and take care of yourself properly, i will always be here to welcome you with open arms and take care of you if you need me to.”

“hmm…” he thought for a moment, before he stuck out his pinky finger. “deal.”

you giggled at his childlikeness, and curled your pinky finger with his. “deal.” together, you both kissed your thumbs, sealing the promise. “ come on. let’s see if we can get  you to sleep for a few hours, hm? you must be tired to death.”

“it’s okay,” he mumbled. “i love talking to you any chance i can get. these were words i needed to hear. this was the strength i needed.” he slid his body to lay horizontally parallel to yours.

you wrapped your arms around him, and began to comb your fingers through his hair.  you could feel mingi relax in your embrace. his steady breathing tickling your neck. softly, you began to hum a lullaby. one that was familiar between the two of you, that you both knew all too well. 

it was the song you two had danced to at the party where he had confessed to you. when he had told you all the feelings he had been harboring for you for so long and how he promised to give you the world if you’d be willing to give him the chance.

since then, the love you shared grew. so much so, that it overflowed onto moments like these. only two people as in love as the two of you would have an emotional discussion about not resting enough and about just how much you loved each other. as mingi’s soft snores began to fill the room, you realize just how much you wouldn’t have it any other way. it was amazing just how much you loved him and how you’d do absolutely anything and everything in the world and in your power to make him happy. it was in these moments, just before you joined mingi in his slumber, that you realized what an odd and amazing thing it was to love someone because this is how it is.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

What the Rain Can’t Wash Away- Chapter 14

*FINAL PIECE IN THE LOOK IN HER EYES TRILOGY*

Sixteen years after Lucifer rose, and Dean lost his wife he finds himself with a teenager, a Nephilim, an angel, and his brother living out a Full House rerun with some seriously dark undertones. How will he be able to raise his daughter, fight monsters, and deal with the loss of the love of his life? Sometimes moving on is the hardest part, but with the Winchester’s there’s always something harder around the corner. Isn’t there?

Chapter Fourteen, Come Daylight

Ava

The morning came like it usually does in the bunker. The alarm bleeped next to the bed, and Dean groaned. I turned off the alarm with the intention of making my cranky husband coffee. I leaned over and placed a kiss on his lips. I loved him. It was all finally over. We would be happy. We would finally be happy.

I slid into Deans robe and closed it around myself. I tiptoed out of his room, closing the door behind me. I wondered if the bunker would ever stop feeling weird. It felt cold and strange, but somehow completely right for the Winchester’s. I ran my fingers along the grooves in the wall. I was a Winchester. I hadn’t been for long, but yet I had been for a lifetime. I lived in this weird in between. I didn’t really know where I fit.

I hovered outside of Eleanor’s door, my fingers hovering over the doorknob. Here, I thought. I want to belong here, with them. I opened her door slowly, just to check in, just to see her. “Nel? Good morning.”

I poked my head in, my body following slowly. It was dark in the room, but I clicked on the side lamp. Her bed was made. The room was empty.

I lowered myself to sit on her bed. There was a paper on her pillow.

Hanging with Claire! Be back later.

I ran my fingers along her scribbled words with a smile. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She snuck off early in the morning to spend time with her hunter girlfriend. It was all so surreal and a little devastating. I had missed so much. I reached over to her side table and pulled up a picture that had likely been taken by Castiel. It was of Eleanor in her footie pajamas sitting between Sam and Dean. They seemed happy. I held the photo against my chest in a hug. We would all be happy again. It was so close I could taste it.

My eyes flickered up to Eleanor’s bedroom door as I heard a few brief knocks. The door creaked open a crack, and Sam’s face poked in. “Nel, hey I’m just… Oh, Ave.”

“Hey, Sam.”

“I was just checking on her, you know, old habits die hard.” He laughed lightly, running his hands through his messy bedhead. “I was worried about her, after the last few weeks.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” I smiled at him warmly, waving him in. “You’ve been her parent this whole time, don’t stop looking out for her on my account. I appreciate all you’ve done. The three of you raised a good girl.”

Sam looked down bashfully, his cheeks turning pink. “We did our best, ya know? Between the three of us, we kinda balanced out any of the crazy that the other two would offer.”

“The perfect parent.” I grinned widely at him.

“Not sure about that one.” He laughed, sitting next to me. “We weren’t you, but we did our best.”

“It’s hard,” I admitted, looking back down at the photograph, “thinking about all I missed. I don’t mean to dwell, but you all had a life time. It feels like I fell asleep in that church and woke up somewhere else only to find that the world moved on without me.” I ran my fingers along my daughters smiling, toothless face.

“We didn’t move on, Ave. I can promise you that.”

I glanced at him with a smile. “You did. I’m glad you did.”

He offered me a half smile and pushed my hair behind my ear. “It wasn’t meant to be. Me and you. It was always you and Dean. We were just biding time.”

“I just want you to know that I did love you. I do.”

“I love you, too, Ave.” Sam leaned in and pressed a warm kiss into my hair. “But I love you like I’m supposed to. You’re Nel’s mom and Dean’s wife. You’re Ava, but you’re not my Ava.”

“I just feel like I have so much to make up for.”

“Not with me.” He smiled. “We are square.” His eyes flickered to the photo in my hands. “You can’t tell, but he was kind of a mess around this time. She was teething and screaming her head off every night. The only time she wasn’t screaming was when she was sleeping smack between Dean and I or off flying with Cas.”

“Sleeping between you?” I laughed lightly. “You two were shoved in the same bed?”

“If it kept the princess happy, it’s what we did.” He shrugged. “She had us wrapped around her finger. Still does most of the time.” He dug in his pocket and flicked through his phone before handing it to me. “This is us at Halloween. She designed the costumes.”

“You were Ghost Busters?” I laughed, eyeing their surprisingly well crafted costumes. “She even got Castiel to dress up.”

“Like I said, we’re all gone on her.”

Clementine hopped up on my lap, purring and rubbing against me. I scratched behind her ear. “Is that how this little one happened?”

“That was sort of a mix,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We were all pretty pissed at Dean, and her and Jack just brought her home.” He reached over and scratched her chin, causing her to roll onto her back for a tummy rub. “But she’s grown on us.”

“Sam, I need tell you something,” I said softly, my hand resting on Clementine’s plump tummy.

“What’s up?”

“Dean and I… we agreed. We are getting out of the game. We are actually going to go look at some real estate listings today. We are thinking about buying a bar. We all just keep losing each other, and I can’t do it anymore.”

“Wow,” Sam said, exhaling. His eyes were blinking rapidly and his eyes fell to his lap. He pushed his hair behind his ears. “Dean agreed to quit hunting?” He asked, his voice full of disbelief.

“He chose family, Sam. The job is killing him. It’s killed all of us over and over again. I won’t let it do it again. No more cases… we are done.”

“I’m his family, too, Ave. This place… this is our home. It’s weird and it’s unusual, but it’s ours. The first real one we’ve had. Are you both moving out?”

I avoided his eyes with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. If you are all still hunting… we probably will.”

“I, uh, shit. Sorry, I’m just surprised. This is good. Dean deserves to be happy, but it’s going to be weird doing it without him.”

“We will still be around, Sam,” I promised him, taking his hand in mine. “Hopefully for a lot longer now that we won’t be risking our lives every day.” I laughed lightly and he nodded knowingly.

“Yeah, yeah you’re probably right.”

“Sam?”

“Huh?”

“You look tired, ya know? I’m worried about you. It’s not all on you and Dean, you know that, right?”

“No offense, Ave, but you haven’t been here. It is on us. It’s always been on us,” he said weakly.

  Dean

We went to a few different building’s that could function as bars around town, and within an hour’s drive. Most were way too fucking expensive. All seemed a little hopeless, if I was being honest.

“Come on, let’s just park and walk. Clear our heads,” Ave offered.

“Better be glad you’re cute,” I grumbled. I didn’t know the exact moment that I turned into a cranky old man, but there I was. I put the Impala in park and we got out. I stretched, my neck cracking in response.

“I am glad I’m cute, every single day.”

“Me, too.” I snorted, putting an arm around her. “Bet I look like a cradle robber.”

“If you had money, I’d look like a gold digger.”

“I’d like being your sugar Daddy.” I smirked, kissing her hair.

“Bet you would.”

It was weird having her back, to say the least. This was the first time since it happened that things felt really calm. Michael was out of my head, and we were getting out of the game. It was all a little twilight zone. “Hope I ain’t dealin’ with another djjin.”

“What?” She glanced at me with a raised eyebrow.

“You know, perfect life. Wife back, Michael gone, buying a bar . It reeks of djjin poison.”

“It’s not.” She smiled up at me, wrapping her arms around my neck. “It’s real.”

“That’s exactly what fake you would say,” I snickered, pressing a kiss to her lips.

“If this was a dream, wouldn’t we have found a bar by now?” She complained.

I shrugged and squinted, not listening, because goddamnit, I had to be dreaming. “Shit, I’m still in my Michael coma, aren’t I?” My arms dropped from around Ava and I walked to the edge of the sidewalk.

“What are you talking about, Dean?”

“That.” I pointed to the painted foreclosure sign on an old ratty bar across the street.

“That ? That’s a dump, Dean.”

“Hey now.” I waved at her dismissively. “Let’s look at it. Wonder why the agents didn’t send us to it.”

“Probably because it’s a dump,” Ava complained as I took her hand, dragging her behind me.

We crossed the street, and I peeked through the boards to see into the window. “I’ll be damned.”

“What?”

“It’s got a juke box in there.” I squinted a little harder. “Damn, it’s dark. Gotta get in there to take a look.”

“You’re insane,” Ava laughed. “We are not buying this bar.”

“Not yet,” I said, yanking at the boards.

She rolled her eyes and grumbled, walking to the front door.

“What are you doin’?” I asked, wincing from a splinter that dug its way into my palm.

“Testing a theory.”

I paused to watch Ava, as she reached forward and pushed the door open with a ding . “You gotta be kidding me.”

“Maybe you are in a coma.”

“Let’s check it out.” I pulled her hand, and we entered the bar. It was dark, dusty, and really run down. “It still has all the furniture,” I commented, running my fingers along the stools that were flipped upside down on the round bar tables. I pulled a few down and hopped over the bar. “Shit, Ave, these tap-handles are gorgeous.” I pulled my shirt up to wipe the dust off the carved handles.

Ava walked to the juke box and wiped the dust off of it with her forearm. “This is actually really cool, Dean. I wonder if it still works.”

I turned and at her from over the bar, and I could see it. I could see the life we could have. All of the dust and dirt melted away. I could have something that was mine. Not a destiny that was left by my father, or given by Chuck. It would just be mine.

“So, what? I’ll bartend and you’ll waitress?”

“I will not,” Ava laughed. “Maybe I’ll be a cop, or a stay at home mom.” She walked to me, plopping down at the stool. “Maybe I’ll just lounge around the bar and distract you with my wiles.”

“I might be okay with that.” I leaned across the bar top and kissed her.

We parted and she looked at me through wide, blue eyes. “You love this place.”

“I… I think I do.”

She smiled at me and ran her thumb across my jaw. “Let me make a call. It’ll take some work, but I think I like it, too.” She stood up and turned away, starting to walk outside to grab her phone.

“Hey, Ave.”

“Yeah?” She turned toward me, her curls falling into her eyes. Looking at her like that, made everything fall into place. I spent so much of my life worried and afraid. I spent so much time complacent. I knew that when she died I would never be happy again. I accepted that, and I didn’t let everything sink in until that moment. It was until I saw her there, in our bar, looking so fucking alive that I even considered what life would be like.

“Thanks,” I said, breathlessly.

“You’re welcome.” She smiled, pushing her curl behind her ear. She turned on her heel and walked out, sunlight spilling into the shadow of the bar.

I closed my eyes. I needed to take a second, to take it all in. The last sixteen years were like spinning in circles too fast. I watched the world whirl by in a mix of colors. I begged time and time again for the wheel to just stop turning, for just a minute. It finally seemed to be slowing.

If I was still in a coma, at least I was having a good dream. I shrugged out of my flannel and wiped the rest of the bar top, finding some old mahogany under the thick layer of dust. It was finished, but it looked like the original. “Where have you been my whole life?”

It wasn’t long before Ava busted back in through the door. I couldn’t see her face from the sunlight coming in behind her. Her face was in shadow, but her silhouette glowed like she was some kind of angel. I grinned at her, my chest aching. I always thought she was an angel. “Get out from behind that bar.”

I hopped over the bar top again, half expecting her to tell me that the floors were corroded due to termites, or the place was infested with rats. Instead, she ran and jumped into my arms. “It isn’t official, official, but I think we’ve got it, Dean.”

“What?” I stared at her, just blinking like a fucking idiot.

“My parents left me some money. I never touched the stuff and it’s been sitting all of this time gaining interest. We can’t buy it outright, but its foreclosed, they don’t want it. The real estate agent thinks she can swing us a good deal. We need to cross the t’s and dot the I’s, but I think we’ve got it.”

“This is a dream,” I said in disbelief, staring into her eyes. I held her up by her ass with one hand, my other one was tangled in her curls.

She squeezed her thighs around my waist. “It isn’t a dream, Dean. It’s real, and I haven’t even told you the best part yet.”

“You haven’t?”

“There’s an apartment up above the bar that’s included in the price. A three bedroom.” She was smiling so widely I was worried her face would split open. “Are you happy?”

“Am I…” I felt something flutter in my chest, and the back of my eyes stung. “I’m so fuckin’ happy, Ave, I want to take you right here on this dirty counter top. I can’t believe you made this happen. Fuck, I don’t deserve you.” I was rambling, and I didn’t care. I needed her to know. I didn’t say it all enough, I never did.

“We have plenty of time for that.” Ava promised, placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “Let’s go tell Nel. Do you think she’ll be excited?”

I tugged on one of her curls gently. I knew I probably looked like an idiot, like a love sick teenager, but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. “All she’s wanted is to have you back, to have us together. We will still be close to the bunker… She’s gonna love it,” I said with a grin, and then I kissed her. I kissed her, because damn it, I spent way too much of my life not kissing Ava. I may not have any kind of diploma, but I’m not gonna be stupid enough to repeat that mistake again.

  Ava

We entered the bunker, tangled together. Everything seemed so hopeful. We were almost floating. Dean kept mumbling about how it had to be a dream. I understood the sentiment. Life was good , almost too good for what we were used to. We had each other, and we were about to have a place to call our own. No more enemies, no more monsters, no more death . We would be normal. I couldn’t wait to tell Eleanor.

“So, when Nel goes off to college we will have two free rooms,” Dean said with a smirk. “That’s two whole rooms to fill, Mrs. Winchester.”

“Don’t get any wild ideas, Dean,” I warned him with a sly look.

“Oh, baby I’ve got tons of wild ideas…”

“Finally you’re back!” Claire said, storming out of the back of the bunker.

We turned to look at the frazzled blonde. “Yeah, we are. Sorry,” I laughed a bit, swatting at Dean. “We’ve been busy all day. Where’s Nel? We need to talk to her.”

Claire frowned. “She isn’t with you?” She shifted her weight on her black combat boots, tugging her sweater down over her hands.

“No,” Dean began, eyeing her. “Ave, I thought you said she left a note that she’d be with Claire?”

“She did,” I said slowly. I let go of Dean’s hand and we all walked back into Eleanor’s bedroom. It was exactly the way it looked when I left it that morning. I picked up the note off the pillow and handed it to Claire.

Her hand flew to her lips, and she shook her head. “This isn’t even her handwriting.”

“What?” I asked, alarmed.

“I’ve been calling her all day. She won’t answer,” Claire said, her voice broken, and angry. She pulled out her phone again and dialed. It rang twice before a ring echoed out in the room. She hopped over the bed and dug in the trash can, pulling out Eleanor’s phone. “In the trash.” Claire’s jaw was tight.

I thought I was going to be sick, and Dean caught me before I could fall. “Where is she?” I asked, my voice cracking.

I felt Dean’s arms tighten around me, his hands trembled against mine. “I have no fucking idea.”

Ella

Dad always told me that love was the greatest thing in the world that you can experience. Despite the way that Dad and Sam were raised, they showered me in love. I never felt like I was missing anything. At least I never did until we finally got mom back. Growing up the way I did, I never understood how someone could lose the person they love most in the world and move on. I never understood how Dad was so fine all the time. That was the thing. He was fine, but he couldn’t be much more than that. He struggled to just stay the way he was, to stay stagnant.

Dad always says that there’s one big love for everyone in this life. He said he was lucky, because he got two. Me and Mom. I just don’t know where that leaves me. Claire is the one. She’s funny, beautiful, and so unbelievably strong. I hope she’s strong enough.

Love is big. I’ve always thought so. It’s so much packed into a little five letter word. Some people say it too much, some people don’t say it enough. It comes in a lot of forms. Don’t forget your homework. You look nice today. I missed you. You’re family. It’s not always easily seen, but that’s the thing. You don’t have to see the wind to know that it’s there. You feel it. The tickle on your cheek. You can smell the scent of flowers or the sea traveling from miles away. Winchester’s love quietly, but we love boldly. We aren’t a breeze. We are a fucking hurricane. We are a tornado, ready to bust through anyone who would hurt the people we love. The people we couldn’t tell that we loved.

I didn’t need to hear it every day to know that my three dads loved me. I just knew it. Family isn’t something that needs a definition. It isn’t that simple. There weren’t enough words, and there’d never be enough time.

I don’t want to say goodbye. I never wanted to have to say goodbye.

—————

Chapter Fifteen, Of Course She Did

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hand to heart

(where tony gets his reactor removed a bit later, and bucky is there for the result. 

tony/bucky, established relationship. angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort, tw: hospital scenes and mentions of bucky’s trauma

read it here on AO3, or after the read more, beware, mobile!)

bucky is there when the reactor is taken out of tony’s chest.

it happens in stages – the initial appointment with the doctor who’s going to do the procedure, the follow-up meetings where the doc gives the details of how exactly it’s going to go down, the twenty-four hour period where tony isn’t allowed to eat or drink a damn thing and starts to spiral, the fourteen-hour procedure – and bucky is there for all of it. holds tony’s hand when the surgeon starts mentioning the scary stuff, like how delicate the operation is even with something as useful as the reactor holding all the shrapnel in the same spot. it’s weeks and months of preparation, even more time just trying to come to the damn decision, and bucky is there, like a shadow, making sure tony’s supported every step of the way.

of course, tony needs the support. he needs to have someone there for him, and sure steve and potts and rhodey all want to be there, and are there sometimes, but bucky is there. and he sits through the meetings. pulls himself together. pushes away the panic that comes from bright and white and medical.

the day of, tony’s hands are wringing, his stomach growling and his eyes half closing after not having a single drop of caffeine for a world-record day and a half. he’s snappy, nervous, the smile he shows the nurses one that the outside world usually gets. but when the gown goes on, and he gets the first needle prick of an i.v., bucky presses a kiss to his fingers and lays them against tony’s forehead.

“i won’t let anything happen in there. anything that shouldn’t happen, at least,” he teases, and tony takes it with a better smile, one that’s small but real.

with a shrug, the restless patient glances toward the door, as if expecting the doctor to burst in and do the procedure then and there. “i mean, the longer i’m in there, the more you get peace and quiet,” he jokes back.

“hey.” bucky stops him, lifting his metal hand to keep the words at bay. it’s weak. they both know he lives off tony’s energy, the way he laughs, the way he talks, the way he lights up the damn room. steve calls it love or something. bucky’s prone to call it that, too. “you’re out any longer than a day, and i’m suing the whole damn place. you got the lawyers, i’ll make it happen.”

that gets a laugh, and together they wait, hands clasped together until tony falls asleep and he’s wheeled out, followed close behind by the sound of bucky’s boots as he goes to wait in the theater.

one moment, it’s there, shining and bright and blue. the next, it’s gone.

not gone gone, it’s still there, still bright, but the shine comes from the metal of its encasing and not the soft glow of life.

the docs, all of them crowded around tony’s body like he’s just another experiment weapon patient, pull back the curtain to showcase the new scar where a hole used to be. a reconstructed sternum, rearrangement of the superior portion of the ribcage, and the removal of twenty-five pieces of shrapnel later it’s done, the souvenirs all in a convenient to-go cup. some of them are so small that bucky can’t even see them with the best sniper eyes in the business.

bucky goes and throws up a couple of times, wipes his mouth with a determined set of his jaw, and starts waiting all over again.

during the procedure, he’s all nerves and anxiety and dread, sam and steve bringing some food, natasha clothes for them both. after, the waiting is expectant. for tony to wake up. to see the thing there, on the bedside table, apart from him. a whole different kind of awful, but a little easier because the docs say he’s fine, that he’s gonna be okay and awake any minute.

and bucky should be happy, because tony’s free. the arc reactor did its job, kept tony alive, and now it’s gone and tony doesn’t have to cling to it. doesn’t have a crutch. no more fear.

so why isn’t he?

there’s no way to pinpoint it, but bucky’s sure it’s because tony’s not awake yet. because he still doesn’t look like he should, out cold with tubes coming in and out of him in a way that gives buck the shivers. like he’s dead. or close to gone. the sight of him without blue coming from his chest makes it worse, more vivid, and he has to close his eyes tight to get that thought out and away from him

a few more hours pass. bucky writes a bit in the journal doctor hall gave him, a way to get out thoughts before they fester, and puts it away so he can stare at tony some more. worries. writes some more. rests a bit, eyes closed but not really sleeping before he hears the telltale hitch of breath.

“buck?”

with a soft whimper tony winces, the stuff that’s supposed to keep away pain starting to fade because he was out for a bit longer than expected.

“hey, doll.” he reaches for tony’s hand again, squeezes it. “good job out there.”

“shouldn’… you be thankin’ the guy who done it?” he’s slurring like he did at Christmas, the spiked nog having been a bit too much. he looks like he’s gonna pass out again, too, his eyes are already closing. but bucky keeps talking.

“nah, you were the star. the picture-perfect patient.”

“mmhmm?”

“yeah, baby, you did swell. you look great, too. they did a good… good job.”

why does the word hitch? struggle to get out? it’s not a lie, it’s not. but tony doesn’t even notice the internal conflict because he’s got medication in every part of him, and bucky’s left alone in that hospital room once again, wondering why there’s a rush of bile every time he sees the reactor on the table.

“tony, for the last time, you can’t do something like that for at least another three weeks. operating heavy machinery, remember? big no.”

it’s the result of a rough few weeks. tony’s more restless than bucky’s ever seen him, basically bouncing off the walls after bedrest in a hospital room, then bedrest at home, then limited activity, then… slightly less limited activity. especially considering that it’s an operation that’s never been attempted, one that will probably never be replicated. there’s no precedent, so everything goes slow. they have the timeline posted on their bedroom wall, ticking off the days until he’s full health, back to himself.

limited activity. limited food. limited sex. everything has a limit, for the man without any. he complains about it all, and bucky lets him. it sucks, that’s for fucking sure.

“how am i supposed to get out there as iron man when right now the suits i have all run on arc reactor power? no arc reactor, remember?” tony’s voice is accusing, as if bucky could somehow forget.

“i know, i was there,” he sighs out, before pulling the genius toward him with the grip of a firm hand, lets his arms wrap around him so he can start pushing kisses against dark curly hair, gets a whiff of shampoo that cost more than him and steve’s rent at one point. “why don’t we go and watch a movie or something, huh?”

“we’ve been watching movies for a month,” tony mutters, but the fact that it’s not at the top of his lungs is a good sign. another one is the way he melts at the contact, sinks into bucky’s arms like they’re good pillows. “movies, tv, reruns, new shit. only so much you can do when you’re not allowed to go forth into the outside world.”

right.

suddenly, something swims to the surface of bucky’s mind, something on their timeline that they had been counting down to.

the arms around tony loosen a bit, but before the genius can protest bucky’s hand start to slide down his sides, run over his hips, under the waistband of sweatpants that he’s about ninety percent sure aren’t tony’s at all.

“what are you doing? remember? no sex until i’m up and at it,” tony hisses out, but the sound bucky lets out is low, a little laugh. tony starts to pull away a little, spins to face the soldier with a look that asks why he would do a thing like that when they both know it’s not an option.

“a month.”

“what?”

“a month, tones. today.”

understanding dawns over tony’s face, slow and steady. suddenly, there’s a burst of color to his cheeks, a small noise leaving him, and a fierce nod, a “god, yes” before they’re against each other, bucky’s hands gentle but his lips fierce, needy, so goddamn ready.

tony has no such restraint, until something he does, probably the way his shoulders move, pulls a noise from him that’s definitely not of pleasure. bucky freezes and his eyes are wide and fearful, but tony just lets out a sigh of frustration.

“i still can’t do much,” he explains, reaching up a hand to press over the tank top that has no cutout in the front.

but bucky just hums, leans forward and takes tony in his arms once more. his lips are gentle against a sharp jaw, breath ghosting over a perfect neck.

“let me handle this, sweetheart,” he whispers, and the feeling of tony’s body shivering against his is like the best drug. “you don’t have to move an inch.”

it doesn’t take long to sate them. a month away from any kind (or most kinds) of sexual contact does that, and bucky takes pride in squeezing out two orgasms from tony, pulling him apart bit by bit with his mouth, his fingers. seeing tony fall apart does it for him, and so he’s taken care of a couple times, too, and puts the sight into the back of his mind for later when he’s feeling reminiscent. bucky can’t give tony what he really wants, what he was begging for, not for another two weeks, but this is enough, is so much more than they had, and by the end of it tony’s out like a light, breaths long and deep.

it’s good, but… something keeps bucky’s eyes open. keeps him tossing, turning, unable to sit still. tony’s dead to the world, but bucky… bucky stays awake for a while. stares up at the ceiling, listens to tony breathe, his metal hand tucked behind his neck, his other hand resting on his stomach.

the room is dark, pitch black now. no stars or moon outside really to push shine through their window, and the curtains are drawn tight to prevent any unwanted eyes, so. no light, no shine, no… no blue.

suddenly the bile claws its way up his throat again, and he has to force it back down, close his eyes. the cold metal of his hand sends a shiver down his spine, and he opens them again to get rid of visions of medical facilities and masked agents forcing shit into his body.

tony’s free now. free of his vice. it sits on one of his stands in his shop, not a place of honor, but not discarded either. it’s just there and when bucky goes down there to get another tablet or something tony can tinker with, it mocks him. the steel winks at him and his arm answers back.

it’s so dark in the fucking room.

with a soft huff, he pushes himself out of their bed for the third time that week, lets tony sleep, watches him to make sure his breaths are still steady before pushing out the door and closing it without a sound. the hall lights rise to half power, and bucky winces before pushing forward to the front room. the walls are lined with windows and he can stare at lights all around the city with a view like this.

the same thoughts had been riding him for a month now, ever since tony came back from the procedure with the circular scar that he now carried with him. it’s a reminder, more than anything, and once the pain faded it would be the only thing left. sure, there’d be reactor power everywhere, in the tower, the compound, the city… but it wouldn’t be in tony anymore.

his vision blurs a bit.

and that’s what the genius wanted. wanted to be free of it, right? and bucky had supported him, because he loved the asshole and wanted what was best for him and this was what was best. he was proud and he still loved tony, that would never change, right?

so why can’t i sleep next to him anymore?

gripping his head, bucky falls backwards into the couch. the light of outside cuts across him, and he realizes he’s still naked. flesh and bone, except…

his hands clench into fists as he pulls them in front of his face, lets his eyes scan over them.

and then it clicks, clicks with the soft sound of whirring that makes bucky’s jaw tight, as his metal fist compacts itself into a weapon of mass destruction posing as a hand.

tony’s metal parts were bright. soft. lit up the room. bucky remembers hours spent just staring at it, when the genius was asleep after laughing and talking for hours before those moments to himself. they were good. they kept tony alive.

bucky’s metal parts made him walk off balance. made him wince when he stretched wrong, ached as the metal inside him rubbed against nerves and muscles in his shoulder. invaded every part of him. they had killed and murdered and had ruined lives.

tony used his reactor for so much… so much good it hurt. had changed the world with it, created sustainable energy that would last lifetimes, had saved himself with it.

when bucky closed his eyes, he still saw the damn red star on the shoulder. a regime that wiped away the weak and strong alike. took apart power and built it up again in the image of themselves.

he blinks. feels something fall down his cheeks. when he wipes it away, it’s with the hand that he’s cursed with, and he feels a tug as the interlocking parts tug at his skin.

when he stands again, he’s shaky, and he makes sure there’s no crying when he goes back to tony. can’t show what’s filling his head, and he’s not sure he’s able to hold a pen long enough to get them onto paper. when he slides in next to tony again, his metal arm is buried in the sheets. his normal, good, better fingers reach for tony’s hand before he stops, feels a strangled noise leave him, and curls up on his own side of the bed.

he doesn’t sleep. can’t. gets up early, dresses, makes sure the coffee maker is going and there’s breakfast waiting for him. he’s sure tony will wake soon, needing pain medication, some comfort, so he grabs the pills out of the cupboard, too. but looking at them makes his stomach roll. makes his head hurt, his heart pound. but before he can put two out, with a glass of water to be safe, the bottle is crushed in his hand. the little white pieces of comfort scatter, and bucky watches in horror. unfurls the metal fist to see white powder, crushed orange plastic, tony’s name on the paper.

his breathing speeds up, the night’s thoughts rushing back, and before he has time to think, grab a pen, try for sanity, he’s out the door. because he knows now.

tony had gotten rid of his metal parts. tony was whole again.

bucky never would be.

once he’s out in the open air, though, he freezes. he doesn’t want to disappear. doesn’t want to vanish without a trace, though he knows he can. but something tells him going and grabbing his go bag would worry people, and he doesn’t deserve worry. so he starts walking, then running, one foot in front of the other.

his phone starts to buzz. first texts, then calls. tony, steve, even sam all try to reach him. for a moment he wonders if he should turn around, if he should go back, apologize, say he’s fine. but doctor hall keeps telling him lying when he’s not okay doesn’t do any good, and to face them all would be a lie itself.

that he was good. fine. good enough, especially for tony.

as it gets later the calls come less and less. one or two after six, and then his phone is silent. he’s grateful for it. they’ve surely realized by now, what he’s doing, what he needs to do. get away. his feet hurt, he’s hungry, tired after no sleep the night before, but he keeps pushing, sprinting, going forward. he’s walked so far the buildings have start to spread out, get low, become sprawling suburbs. he pushes on.

the sun sets. it gets cold, and he pauses his sprint to zip up the jacket. walks some more. doesn’t even realize he’s stopped until he processes that he’s staring at a sign, the glow of neon almost hurting his eyes after he’s stared at his boots all day. doesn’t realize what about it keeps him from just pushing forward until the blue catches his eye.

arc reactor blue.

everything hits him at once. the pain, his hunger, his exhaustion, his hurt, and he collapses into the wall of the diner the sign belongs to. he’s sliding, now, onto the ground, and everything is blurry. when he lands, his metal arm scrapes against concrete.

doesn’t hear tony’s voice until it’s right next to his ear, can’t get up until steve lifts him and helps him to the backseat.

“what the hell was that?”

“tones…”

“no, steve, shut up,” tony snaps, and his voice is full of righteous anger, frustration, fear. bucky doesn’t process all of it exactly but knows that the force of it is directed at him. his chin tucks a little close to his chest. “i think i deserve an explanation as to why my boyfriend vanished without a trace this morning. what some coffee and a plate of buttered toast and all would be fine?”

“tony,” steve tries again, but his voice is immediately drowned out by since tony’s volume only goes up from there.

“we text, we call. no answer. we try all damn day, we tried to contact you all day, bucky, and what do you do? you ignore us! hell, give us something, why don’t you, so we don’t think someone’s kidnapped you, or hurt you, or fucking killed you! and where do we find you? fucking miles away, at a rundown diner, looking like you’ve been –”

“tony!”

it’s the captain america voice, the one that booms without needing to overpower everyone else in the room. it’s enough to get tony’s attention at least, since he stops talking. bucky’s hands clench into fists, goes so still that he feels like he’s not even breathing.

“steve,” tony whispers after a few moments, the silence thick. “can you give us a minute?”

bucky can see steve’s own boots disappearing, hears them until they’re out of range, and then, and only then, is when he manages to look up enough to meet tony’s eyes.

“you shouldn’t have been driving,” he gets out, voice rough.

he feels like he’s back at the beginning, when steve found him. hair dirty, body grimy, voice unused, bones stiff. a mess. broken. beaten.

but tony seems to just get out a snort, even through his anger. he knows now. how lost bucky is. now it’s just waiting for the inevitable.

“really? you go missing and come back looking like you went to hell and back and i’m what you’re worried about?”

bucky can only shrug, both shoulders lifting, and when they lower tony’s shaking his head at him, in disbelief. it’s enough for bucky to push his chin back down. he was trying to protect tony, didn’t he understand?

he doesn’t look up again until he feels a hand on his wrist, his metal one. it shocks him, that he would even dare after everything.

“buck? you wanna sit down?”

there’s a fierce shake of bucky’s head. no. he doesn’t need to sit to know what’s coming. what needs to happen.

tony’s voice doesn’t sound angry anymore, though. it sounds soft, low, soothing, and still so worried. his voice when dum-e got a virus. his voice when natasha came back with a broken leg. his voice when bucky had a nightmare in the same bed for the first time.

“okay,” he tries again, and bucky braces himself, tenses, can basically hear the words before they leave tony’s mouth. “do you mind… do you mind telling me what’s going on? and… what i can do to help you out?”

wait.

“wha-?” the word is barely formed, almost a half of what it should be, but tony seems to read the surprise to know what was trying to be communicated. his eyes scan tony’s, trying to find something forced in them, but there’s nothing.

“i want to help, buck,” tony whispers to him, and his other hand lifts so that he can have both hands outstretched, one on his metal hand, the other on his shoulder, rubbing the spot there. “i, i don’t know what’s going on, but something is. something’s… hurting you, and i want to know what. i want to help.” he smiles. gentle. “is that so hard to believe?”

“yes.” it’s immediate, and tony winces. bucky feels the color, whatever’s left, drain from his face. that hurts. that look tony’s giving him, like he’s been stabbed.

“it is?”

“no.” immediate backtracking, immediate regret. “not… like that.”

“like what, then? buck, please, did i do something to make you think that?”

each word hurts bucky more and more because it hurts tony. he can hear it, see it play across his face, each line. this was why he had to walk away, because tony was whole and bucky just pulled him apart. “no, it’s not you. it’s never you.”

“then… then, what?”

there’s a beat, two, bunch of moments where bucky tries to put together what he can. he needs to explain this perfectly, so tony can get it. so he can understand why he doesn’t work. why he’s so broken.

“you got your arc reactor out,” bucky whispers, and tony seems confused. raises a brow. but bucky forces himself to keep talking, even when he wants nothing more than to run off again.

“you – you got it out, and i missed it. couldn’t really sleep without it, i just… missed… missed the way i could look at it. look at the metal, and the blue, and.. listen to you explain how it worked all over again.” the words begin to trickle out of him, gentle, and he lets the momentum carry him, even as tony’s eyes stare at him, even though he can’t meet those beautiful brown eyes.

“i missed seeing it when i woke up some, when the nights got bad. it was a good blue, y’know, and helped me remember you were there, and i missed touching the cold metal on the outside, but. it was gone. and you… you deserve that, you deserve it not there, anymore.” it’s a stream now, a stream of consciousness that tangles and jumbles but still gets pulled out. he pushes through it, keeps it going. “but… most of all i missed how it made us the same. not – not exactly the same, because you’re – you’re so fucking good, tones, but how we both had something. something.”

“something,” tony repeats, and bucky nods, doesn’t like how it sounds in tony’s mouth because it sounds dumb. stupid. dumb because it is. tony wasn’t like bucky. never was.

“something.” he forces himself to keep the stream going, even though now he feels the threat of tears in his eyes once again. third time, two days, but he had to keep going. “it was something.”

“but your something was good. good and pure. it kept you alive, lit things up, it fucking powers the whole place, don’t it? and mine… my something just hurts. hurts me, hurts you. hurts everything it touches. and now you’re something’s gone, and you’re just… you’re free.”

it’s rapid now, everything coming out of him, and the dam breaks before he can stop it, his eyes squeeze close, but the tears keep coming.

“you deserve someone who’s got a good something, or nothing that’s holding them back. you deserve someone who’s as whole as you are now, someone who can keep up, who doesn’t have a stupid fucking hydra arm stuck to his side. you deserve someone who can hold you with two fucking human hands instead of a metal one, deserve good. i’m not good, i’m not whole, and.. and i – i never will be.”

and after all that, he’s met with silence. a beat. two.

when he opens his eyes, tony is staring. mouth agape, just a little. his eyes are wide, beautiful brown eyes, and bucky realizes that they’re shiny, his cheeks are wet. tony was… was crying.

“i’m sorry –” he whispers, but before he can continue there’s a couple of fingers over his lips.

“you’re… you’re the best man i know, buck.” tony’s voice is shaky, is breaking, and bucky watches. watches as his fingers pull away, as his lips replace them.

when they break, neither of them are breathing well. bucky’s is coming in shaky inhales, tony’s too hard, too rough, but they’re clinging to each other. bucky’s got his fingers wrapped up in tony’s shirt, and tony’s nails are digging into bucky’s hips.

“when i see you, i see something,” tony whispers, when he can. their foreheads are touching now, and at one point they’ve hit the ground. “i see something beautiful. a man who came back from the depths of hell alive, and clinging to life, and fighting, i see something good, a man who made me coffee and toast with jelly on it this morning, who’s done that every day for the past year because he knows i don’t really eat on my own. bucky, i just see you.”

“tones, i don’t –”

tony kisses him, surely to shut him up again, and bucky can’t argue, kisses him right back, lets his fingerprints skirt along the other’s ribs. when tony’s voice is heard again it feels like it echoes, travels warm through bucky’s veins, down his spine. .

“i might seem whole, bucky barnes, but that’s only because i’ve got you. you make me whole. not the reactor, not the surgery, nothing but you. you show me how i can get up each morning. and when i woke up, and you were gone –”

“i’m so sorry, tony, god, i’m so fucking sorry,” bucky gets out, before he can stop himself, and tony’s eyes go wide. “i know i shouldn’t have, but you just… it got too much, the thoughts in my head –”

“no, no, buck, no. you’ve got nothing to apologize for, i promise. you’ve… you’ve been feeling this way, and that’s nothing to be sorry for.” that shuts bucky up as good as a kiss, and tony’s looks at him head on, takes bucky’s demons by the horns and toss them aside. fucking obliterates them, for the moment. “just. next time. please don’t run. come to me, talk to me, and we can… we can talk about this, because… i need you, buck. fuck, i love you.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

“tones,” bucky gets out in a breath, and he pushes forward again. “i love you, too. i love you so much.”

and for the moment, for once, bucky feels a little less broken.

bucky’s home. he’s at his home.

he’s leaving the bathroom, his hair still damp from his shower, and as he’s toweling it off he realizes there’s a gentle blue glow in the dark room. it’s centered above the bed, where they sleep, and when bucky tilts his head up there’s a rush of… something.

“tones?” he asks, and the man peeks up over the covers, grinning at him. bucky can see it, because of the light. it’s soft enough that it’s not blinding, but bright enough that it feels like… like…

“i had jarv help me set this up,” tony tells him, looking proud of himself, sitting up against the headboard. “you like it?”

“what… what is it?”

“it’s kind of a mock… well. mock arc reactor. the blue shines while i’m in the room, especially at night, and – well, just watch.” tony lifts himself out of the bed, starts walking towards bucky, and the light follows. tracks over the ceiling, follows tony until it settles above where he is now, which is now directly in front of bucky, staring up at him, giddy.

“you made this for me,” bucky breathes, and in a rush, he’s lifting tony by his waist because it’s not a question. the other’s legs wrap around his hips, and he holds the other there, pulls him down for a kiss.

“for me, too,” tony retorts, but his smile is so big it’s hard to argue. “i mean, i had the thing for years, hard for that kind of thing to just be gone. but. yeah. for you. mainly. also me.”

“tony?”

“yeah?”

“i love you.”

the words are soft, so soft tony almost doesn’t hear them. but he knows them. loves those words. loves him.

“i love you, too, buck.”

[sunkissedpages]

Under the Weather

Harrison Osterfield x Reader

A/N: Wrote this because I’m sick as heck and really in the mood to cuddle with a certain cute British actor so here ya go.

Summary: You wake up sick one day, but avoid telling your boyfriend, Harrison because you know he’d leave work to take care of you.

Warnings: little bit of swearing, lot a bit of fluff

Word Count: 1.5k

The thermometer beeped loudly, the noise adding to the already insufferable headache you had. It wasn’t a good sign. You took it out of your mouth to look at it. 101.2 degrees. You sighed. You were supposed to have a big meeting at work today, but that wasn’t going to happen anymore.

You flopped back onto the bed dramatically. You’d already woken up kind of late, and now you couldn’t go into work at all. If your office didn’t have a policy about not coming in when you’re sick, you’d be at that meeting, half dead, presenting your pitch for a new exhibit in January. You’d spent weeks researching artists and carefully hand-selecting pieces that you thought would compliment all the other art in the west wing nicely, but your portfolio might as well go in the trash now. The exhibit was probably going to go to some perky new hire who thought modern abstract was the height of art itself. You huffed in frustration and buried yourself further into the covers.

Other people might have enjoyed a sick day off from work, but you loved your job behind the scenes at the Met, designing and setting up new exhibits to showcase. And of course today had to be the day you came down with something, the day everyone in your department was competing to head the design for their chosen exhibit.

You forced yourself to stop wallowing and actually make the call into work to tell them you weren’t coming. You thought about texting Harrison, who’d left earlier this morning to go shoot for his new movie, but refrained. If he knew you were sick, he’d make an excuse to come home and take care of you. You were already missing out on being at a job you loved, you didn’t want him to feel obligated to do the same.

Besides, you could take care of yourself. You’d been doing it for years before you met Haz. You weren’t even feeling that bad, at least that’s what you told yourself. You managed to get yourself out of bed and onto your feet so that you could grab some aspirin from the medicine cabinet and Gatorade from the fridge.

The pills were difficult to swallow with your sore throat but you managed to get them down without breaking too much of a sweat. Everything ached and you felt yourself shivering. You knew it was probably best to just go back to sleep and let the meds kick in, so you turned up the heat in the apartment and curled up in bed.

A few hours later when you woke up, you weren’t feeling any better. Another go with the thermometer told you your temperature was now 101.3. You popped some more pills and microwaved some chicken noodle soup since you hadn’t had anything to eat all day. While you had been asleep you’d missed a lot of messages from your boyfriend who was understandably getting concerned.

9:38 am Haz: You’ll never believe what I just got to do :)

9:45 am Haz: ....

9: 45 am Haz: I got to do a stunt with flips

11:23 am Haz: Y/N??

11:56 am Haz: lol are u mad at me?

11:57 am Haz: we weren’t fighting when I left this morning

12:14 pm Haz: seriously Y/N is something wrong?

12:18 pm Haz: ok if you don’t reply in the next 5 min I’m calling you

You didn’t want him to call and hear how sick you were so you quickly texted back sorry babe busy day and went back to fixing your soup. You felt a twinge of guilt for lying to him, but busy could mean anything. Like right now, you were busy with your lunch.

You set everything on a tray and brought it back to bed, having exerted all of your strength on preparing the food. You couldn’t be bothered to sit at a table to eat it. Once you were in bed you turned on the Disney Channel to Kim Possible reruns. Watching cartoons when you were sick always comforted you. You chuckled to yourself as you looked at the spread in front of you. Gatorade, soup, and, rainbow goldfish crackers. It looked like something you would eat for lunch in elementary school. You snapped arranged the goldfish into the shape of a heart and snapped a picture of your lunch for your instagram story, including Kim Possible playing in the background. You added the caption “just another day in the third grade” before posting it and actually eating your soup.

The warm broth felt good on your throat and you abandoned both the chicken and the noodles in favor of the broth. The crackers went untouched too. You knew you should be eating real food, but you had no appetite. At least you were getting fluids.

As soon as you set your tray on the floor in preparation for taking another nap, you phone started to ring. You frowned at it. It was Harrison. You coughed a few times to get it out of your system before answering.

“Hello?” you asked in your best healthy-person voice.

“You’re sick aren’t you,” he accused. No greeting or anything. Still, just the sound of his voice almost made you tear up. You wanted nothing more to be in his arms at this very second, but you wouldn’t let yourself be selfish.

You stifled a cough and lied “....no.”

Harrison laughed bitterly over the phone. “I saw your instagram story, Y/N. You’re not at work, you’re having soup and Gatorade, and you’re watching cartoons. You hate soup.”

You bit back a curse. Your boyfriend knew you too well. “I’m just not feeling the best, that’s all.”

“You lied to me. You said you were busy.”

From over the phone you couldn’t tell if he was truly angry or not. “I...was.” Another lie.

“You sound awful. I’m coming home,” he declared. You heard rustling in the background and you assumed he was packing his things up into his backpack.

“No!” you protested, coughing impulsively from straining your voice. Harrison was quiet on the other end. You cleared your throat. “I’m fine, just a little under the weather.”

“You wouldn’t have stayed home from work if that was the case. You had your pitch meeting today.”

You laid back on the bed in defeat. Damn your synced calendars, damn your body for betraying you, damn you caring boyfriend, damn it all. You felt tears pricking in the corners of your eyes.

“You don’t have to come home, Haz, I can take care of myself.”

When he spoke again, his voice had softened. “I know, baby, but I want to. We were almost done today anyway.” He half chuckled. “I know I’ve only been gone for a few hours, but I miss you.” You could feel your heart clench in your chest. “Unless you really don’t want me to come home...” He waited. You were silent. “Hello?”

“I do,” you felt your entire body relax as you said the words, your voice coming out even hoarser than before.

“Hm?”

“I do want you to come home, Haz,” you admitted finally. “I just didn’t want to be selfish and pull you away from work.”

“They don’t need me here anyway,” he scoffed

Even in your feverish state you rolled your eyes. “You’re the lead of the film”

“Co-lead,” he corrected you. “I’m on my way now.” You felt yourself smiling weakly. “Get some rest, and I’ll be home when you wake up.”

You woke up to warm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body. A lazy smile made its way to your face and you craned your head around to look at your boyfriend. Harrison kissed your forehead gingerly and smiled back at you.

“You’re burning up.”

“Thank you captain obvious.”

“Not even the plague could stop you from being sarcastic, could it?” he shook his head, reaching over you to grab the thermometer off the nightstand. You giggled and snuggled further into him. “I should have known this morning. The bed was warmer than usual, I just thought I was hot.”

“Yeah you are,” you said weakly and Harrison smirked in amusement.

“Here open up,” he said and stuck the thermometer in your mouth.

“That’s what she said,” you joked and winked with effort.

“My god, she’s gone delusional,” Harrison laughed and nestled his head onto your shoulder to watch the numbers on the thermometer.

It started to beep and he took it from your mouth with wide eyes. “101.2, that’s not good.”

“Hm, it went down.”

“Y/N Y/L/N you’re unbelievable,” Haz gaped.

“What?”

“Next time you tell me you’re just ‘feeling a little under the weather’ I’m coming home immediately. You should have told me how sick you are.”

“I know, but I knew you’d come home and I didn’t want you to miss work,” you sighed.

He rubbed your arm comfortingly. “One day isn’t going to kill anyone, and I’m home because I want to take care of you.” You smiled, blinking up into his blue eyes sleepily. “When you get hungry again I’ll make you some grilled cheese.”

You felt yourself falling asleep, but grasped his hand in affirmation. Grilled cheese was his specialty. “Get some sleep,” he encouraged when he saw you fighting to stay awake. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

[welcometothepenumbra]

JUNO STEEL AND THE LESSON LEARNED (PART TWO)

SOUND: RAIN. TRAIN ARRIVES, CREAKS TO A STOP. DOOR CLANKS OPEN.

CONDUCTOR: Ah, good evening, Traveler. And welcome… to The Penumbra. Take your seat, please, take your seat.

MUSIC: STARTS.

SOUND: DOOR CLANKS SHUT.

The junction lies just ahead, Traveler. If you’ll allow me just a moment.

SOUND: TRAIN WHISTLE.

(CHUCKLES) Well, next stop? Hyperion City.

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING.

Detective Steel entered the Fortezza trying to prevent a murder. But the way this case is going, he might soon be the victim of one. A serial killer from twenty years ago has set her sights on our detective, and if she wins, her murderous curriculum will be renewed.

SOUND: TRAIN BRAKES. DOOR CLANKS OPEN, RAIN.

Our next stop: Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

***

MICK: Hey, Jay?

JUNO: Yeah, Mick?

MICK: How come it feels like every time I see you we get trapped in some lunatic’s crazy murder-game?

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. Just lucky, I guess.

MUSIC: STARTS.

MICK: Yeah. Now that you mention it… I think you might have pretty bad luck, Juno.

JUNO: Me?!

MICK: Yeah! I mean, the Proctor locks us up, gives us both guns, and says we’ll have to shoot each other if she’s gonna give us the antidote to the-the-the whatyacallit, the-the Sundial Toxin?

JUNO: Hourglass Venom.

MICK: Ha, that’s a good one, Jay, but I’m pretty sure it’s Hourglass Venom, like I said.

JUNO: That’s not what you—

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

PROCTOR (FROM COMMS): That’s enough bickering, Mr. Steel, Mr. Mercury. Now, your test is just down this hall. Onward! Education awaits.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The attic of the Fortezza was a condemned cell block from back in the days when this place was for sealing criminals away – not rewarding them. In a lot of ways it reminded me of my old wedding gown: it was dusty, smelled like a lot of dreams had probably died in it, and pushed off into a dark corner somewhere in hopes that everyone would just forget the damn thing ever happened.

And the worst of it all was the tenant here: the Proctor, a fame-seeking serial murderer who’d just come out of retirement and was making up for lost time. First, she planned to kill Mick and me with Intro to Chemistry, and then in two hours she’d move on to the first candidate for mayor in fifty years who might actually try to make this city a better place.

That guy’s name was Ramses O’Flaherty. And my name’s Juno Steel. I’m a private eye. And right then I was the only thing standing between Ramses and death. And me and death.

MICK: (WHISPERING) Psst! Hey, Jay!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And him and death.

MICK: Jayjay! I just thoughta somethin’!

JUNO (NARRATOR): I was usually the only thing standing between Mick and death.

MUSIC: ENDS.

MICK: This is, like, my moment, isn’t it? I took this job so I could prove that danger is what my life’s missing. And hey, this is very dangerous! That’s pretty lucky, I think.

JUNO: With luck like that, you should start investing in lottery tickets.

MICK: Hey, that’s not a bad—

JUNO: Don’t!

(QUIETLY) Can’t make that joke with him, Steel, he’ll really do it.

MICK: What was that?

JUNO: Alright, so you want to be a P.I. or a special agent or something?

MICK: I-I was thinking more like a superhero, but… I’m willin’ to work my way up.

JUNO: If you want to do this, you gotta be able to analyze your situation. So, they must’ve given you some training before they stuffed you in that uniform – didja pick anything up?

MICK: Uhhh, I don’t know. I wasn’t really paying attention.

JUNO: And, there it is.

MICK: Except… oh, oh!! They showed a map of the Fortezza! And I even memorized it!

JUNO: Wait, seriously? That’s perfect, Mercury!

MICK: You’re tellin’ me! And hold on, now, gears are turnin’, gears are turnin’…

Oh! Sweet shining nebula, Jay, I think my brain mighta just done a clue!

JUNO: We’ll clean that up later. This is great! If you remember how this old cell block is organized you should be able to get us to, I don’t know, a boarded up window or wall or something, and maybe we can break through—

MICK: This floor wasn’t on the map!

JUNO: …What?!

MICK: Yeah! They didn’t tell us anything about these floors during training at all! Heh. Wow, this Proctor really is smart, isn’t she? I mean, I’ve lost a room before, but losing two whole floors? You’d have to be, like, a genius to hide two whole floors from the people who own the building!

JUNO: I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. (SIGHS) I don’t know if that’s a sign of genius, Mick, but it’s definitely a sign of something.

MICK: Like what?

JUNO: Not sure yet. But I’ve got a hunch.

MICK: I mean, I didn’t want to say anything, but you should probably work on your posture, buddy.

JUNO: That’s not– nevermind.

(CALLING) Are we there yet? I’m tired and he keeps bugging me.

PROCTOR: Just one more door, Mr. Steel. That’s it… just ahead…

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Your next exam!

SOUND: DOOR CLOSES.

JUNO: Wow, more mannequins!

You shouldn’t have. We moving on to Art 102 now?

PROCTOR: No no, art is behind us. The three lessons you’ll have to pass today are the three Rs: Reasoning, Reading Comprehension, and… well, the last one’s a surprise.

MICK: Sure glad spelling isn’t one of them. I didn’t know surprise started with an R.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The test on Reasoning didn’t look like much. Four mannequins stood in front of us, each with a button on its chest and a tangle of wires snaking into its feet. But there was going to be a trick to it. There had to be.

PROCTOR: The mannequins are only half of the test. Are you ready for the second half?

JUNO: Depends. Is it four more mannequins?

MICK: Jay, that was kinda rude.

PROCTOR: No no, I’m afraid not. Now listen closely, because I’m only going to say this twice:

MICK: Twice?

PROCTOR: Sage, Vladimir, Aisha, and Sponge walked down the road together side-by-side, holding hands. Two wore shirts of red, and two wore shirts of blue; but none would stand next to another wearing the same color shirt.

JUNO: Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

MICK: Who? What? Who??? What???

JUNO: It’s a puzzle, Mick. A stupid puzzle.

PROCTOR: It’s a very good puzzle. Now be quiet.

(CLEARS THROAT) Aisha, the baker whose shirt was red, held hands with only one other person. Sponge’s shirt was also red. Vladimir held hands with two people, one of whom was a detective; the other was Aisha. Sage could not tolerate anyone holding her right hand. Vladimir was not the murderer.

MICK: Well! That got exciting very quickly!

PROCTOR: Among them were a detective, a baker, a fortuneteller, and a murderer. If you do not find the murderer, they will kill everyone else in line – and they will kill you, too. (CACKLES) So tell me: which of these four mannequins is the murderer?

JUNO: This is what you got famous for? Seriously?

PROCTOR: I know! Very impressive, isn’t it? I’ll give you a tip: in a multiple choice exam, always be certain to eliminate silly answers before—

JUNO: It is not impressive! It’s the kind of thing they give to bored middle schoolers when the radiation storms are too bad to go outside for recess!

PROCTOR: So if you can’t solve it, detective, what does that make you?

JUNO: Too busy for this stupid—

MICK: Hey, wait a second, wait a second. You said you’d say all that twice, right? Can you say it again?

JUNO: You’re not really buying into this.

MICK: You said bored middle schoolers did these! And, well! I was a bored middle schooler for nearly five years!

JUNO: Mick, you repeated those grades ‘cause you never went to school.

MICK: Come on, Jay. I really need this. Please?

JUNO: Fine… fine, listen to the dumb puzzle again.

PROCTOR: (CLEARS THROAT) Sage, Vladimir, Aisha, and Sponge walked down the road together side-by-side, holding hands. Two…

JUNO (NARRATOR): While our host gave Mick the rerun of her stupid puzzle, I took this opportunity to investigate my feelings about the last few hours.

Stupid goddamn waste of time puzzles! What am I, some kinda—

MICK: Shh, Jay! I’m tryin’ to listen!

JUNO: Hmph.

PROCTOR: …Vladimir was not the murderer. There. Your last reading. Think carefully – and be sure to check your answers.

JUNO (NARRATOR): It wasn’t an easy puzzle, sure, but it was pretty typical crime scene investigation. Gather the clues, listen to the witnesses, rebuild the past. Hell, this was easier: these witnesses couldn’t even lie to you.

If Mick could solve this… maybe he had a point. Maybe danger was the missing ingredient in the Mick Mercury cocktail.

MICK: Hmm. I see.

JUNO: You… do?

MICK: I thought about it real hard. And my answer is… we press all the buttons at the same time.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Or… not.

PROCTOR: A very… interesting approach.

JUNO: Mick, seriously?

MICK: Yeah! I mean, I thought about the whole puzzle thing, but then I decided it was probably just a red herring. ‘Cause look at them all! They’re so weird and creepy! And I swear a second ago, I saw them all twitch or something, real murrrrderer stuff, so we gotta—

JUNO: They didn’t move, Mick. And the murderer is Sage, on the far right.

MICK: Well, I mean, yeah, that’s the obvious answer.

JUNO: Oh, yeah? Why’s that?

MICK: Because… uh…

(NERVOUS LAUGHING) I-I mean I-I don’t think I gotta waste both our– our time, tryin’ to talk through things we both already know, Jay—

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

JUNO: Mick, where the hell are you going?

MICK: C-c-c-y-y-y… I-I… ‘cause– like, d-don’t you feel p-p-poisoned? Definitely feel poisoned, Jay; at– at least a little poisoned? So, I’ll just press this here button, and—

JUNO: Damn it, Mercury! That’s the wrong button!

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. THUD.

MICK: What gives?! You said far right! I was goin’ for the far right!

JUNO: You were going for our right, Mick. You need to go for their right.

MICK: No, I mea– I mean—! Well that’s just—!

(SIGHS) Yeah. Yeah okay, that’s reasonable.

SOUND: BUTTON CLICKS. CONGRATULATORY JINGLE PLAYS.

PROCTOR: Excellent job, Mr. Steel! You’ve passed your Reasoning exam with flying colors!

SOUND: HINGE CREAKS OPEN.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Above us opened another trap door, and, another ladder fell out. The top floor. Finally. And with an hour to spare.

MICK: Whew! So, uh, good thing we made it through that one, huh… Juno?

…Jayjay?

JUNO: Give me your gun, Mercury.

MICK: …What?

JUNO: The gun the Proctor gave you. Give it to me.

MICK: But Jay – I’d never shoot you, you know that—

JUNO: You’d never shoot me on purpose, sure. But whatever the hell is up there for the Reading Comprehension test? Some monster made of goddamn books or something? You’re gonna aim for its table of contents and shoot me straight through the epilogue.

MICK: But Jay, we always got into trouble and it was always fine—

JUNO: Yeah, when we were kids. You’re forty, Mick. You’re not a kid anymore! You’re a screw-up, and this stupid danger idea of yours is going to get me killed. Now give me your gun.

MICK: I’m a… screw up?

JUNO: Don’t. You say it about yourself all the time.

MICK: Yeah, but… it’s different hearing it from, uh… Alright.

SOUND: FABRIC RUSTLING.

Here’s the gun.

JUNO: Thanks. Now let’s go.

SOUND: ROPES CREAKING.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I didn’t mean to snap at Mick like that.

Well actually I did mean to, but I felt bad about it, at least. And that's gotta be worth something, right?

Anyway, I didn’t have time to let my conscience have the floor. I could already feel the Hourglass Venom working through me – I could feel my head bloat and stomach throb. It would kill me soon. And just a few minutes after that, it’d kill Ramses.

MICK: (COUGHING) Ah, jeez buddy, I… really don’t feel so good.

JUNO: Yeah, a fatal dose of poison’ll do that to you. (COUGHS)

MICK: I guess in some ways we’re lucky, though. Back in the day I remember her tests were all over the news, and they were so…

There was that guy she killed with a geometry test… I’ve never seen someone’s legs go at that angle before. Or the Phys Ed case: the lady she made run so hard she wore holes in her feet. Or, the worst of all… Home Economics. What makes a person do all that, Jay?

JUNO: Who the hell knows, Mick. It’s not my job to psychoanalyze the killers. I just lock ‘em up.

PROCTOR: Then allow me, detective: raw creative genius. The greatest minds in the world are overtaken with it – the need to build, to create. When one is as skilled as I am, it simply… overtakes you. I am but a slave to the Muse within me.

MICK: But… that doesn’t make any sense.

JUNO: Mick, stop humoring her already.

MICK: No, but it doesn’t make any sense! If she’s got this creative bug or whatever, why should she wait twenty years—

PROCTOR: The Muse cannot be tamed!

(CHUCKLES) > Those old murders were excellent, of course. Nobody’s ever thought of all the applications for a protractor that I have. But genius, like wine, only improves with age.

JUNO: Unless the container’s as cracked up as you are. Then it turns into vinegar.

PROCTOR: I am not vinegar! You’ll see. This is a new era for the Proctor. My second creative career begins with you. And it will be even greater than the first. Go. The Reading Comprehension test is just through that door.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

MICK: (YELPS)

JUNO: …Wait, seriously?

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS.

PROCTOR: Deadly seriously, of course! (CACKLES)

JUNO: It’s just… sixteen more mannequins.

PROCTOR: Just sixteen mannequins, he says! Hasn’t anyone ever taught you to read the directions first?

MICK: Hey, Jay! There’s a paper on this table that says “Reading Exam Directions!”

JUNO: Don’t—! Touch it.

SOUND: PAPER FLIPPING.

“Davis, Major, Anya, Jean, Cobweb, Hephaestus, nine of their friends, and Sponge were walking down a road side-by-side, holding hands—” (GIGGLING)

MICK: I mean, Jay, that is a pretty wide road, but I don’t see what’s so funny—

JUNO: This is the best you’ve got, Proctor? Seriously? Twenty years to think something up and you start writing crossword puzzles?

PROCTOR: They are not crossword puzzles! They are works of logical genius, designed to test your…

JUNO: Ha!

PROCTOR: Stop laughing!

JUNO: HA!

MICK: Heyyy, uh, Jayjay, maybe don’t piss off the killer lady so much—

JUNO: No, come on, Mercury, this puzzle is hilarious. Listen to this: “Thompson had a deadly nut allergy, but none of them knew Anya very well. Major often confused Sponge with one of their friends in a yellow shirt; Cobweb was known to fingerpaint with peanut butter”—? (COUGHING)

PROCTOR: The test you’re laughing at is going to kill you, do you understand? And then who will be laughing? Time’s up! I will! D Minus!

MICK: If you’re laughing, you must have a plan, right? You know the solution to the puzzle?

JUNO: (COUGHING) ‘Course I do. Same as the solution to every test I ever passed in school.

MICK: Study hard? Apply yourself?

JUNO: No. Cheat.

SOUND: ELECTRONIC POWERING-UP BEEPS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I should’ve thought of it hours before. Getting rid of headaches is the point of technology, isn’t it? Or maybe that’s aspirin. Aspirin’s a kind of technology. Shut up, Steel. The point is, the Theia Spectrum had a filter for detecting electromagnetic frequencies.

THEIA: Now detecting electromagnetic frequencies.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Like that. The cables coming out of the mannequins’ feet had to be hooked up to all the other junk in here, didn’t they? All I had to do was track whichever mannequin had the cable that went back to the door and not… whatever the hell they were gonna do to us. It was hard to see through that rat’s nest, though… and even harder with all the shouting in my ear.

MICK: (COUGHING) Oh, Juno! The mannequins, they’re—

JUNO: Not now, Mercury.

MICK: But it’s just like downstairs, I’m trying to tell you that—

JUNO: You said you wanted to help, right? Well, y’know how you can help me now? By shutting up, staying still, and letting the goddamn professional do his job!

MICK: (WORRIED GROAN)

JUNO (NARRATOR): I found it in seconds: the mannequin three in from the left had a thick coil of wire extending from its feet, through the floor, and toward the door on the room’s far side. The other mannequins weren’t hooked up to any traps I could see – just a little glowing box on each of their chests.

When I thought about it later, I realized those were wireless transmitters. And when I thought about it later, I realized I probably shouldn’t have interrupted Mick, too.

MICK: Jay—

JUNO: It’s that one. Come on, let’s press the button and get the hell out of here.

MICK: I don’t know if you should get so close, Jay; I swear I saw ‘em move and—

SOUND: BUTTON CLICKS. CONGRATULATORY JINGLE PLAYS.

JUNO: There, see? Button’s hooked up straight to the door, now it’s open. Let’s– gahhh!

SOUND: WOODEN RATTLING & CLANKING.

MICK: Jay! The mannequins are moving!

JUNO: I can see that! This one’s got my arm!

MICK: And that one got your other arm!

JUNO: Gee, I had no idea!

PROCTOR: I educate you… I craft these tests for you with my own blood, sweat, and mannequins… and this is how you show your appreciation? You cheat?!

JUNO: Watch it, buddy, you’re gonna pull my damn arm off— ahhhh!

MICK: Oh, no, no, no! Don’t come any closer…

SOUND: RATTLING GETS LOUDER.

PROCTOR: Well, I suppose the last test will have to be cancelled. And too bad: I had an excellent plan for your ‘rithmetic exam.

JUNO: That doesn’t even start with an R, you has-been! AH!

PROCTOR: Perhaps not. But here’s another R for you: Recess!

MICK: Recess? Hey, that sounds kinda nice…

Wow, those things are movin’ quick!

PROCTOR: At Recess, all rules are suspended. Good luck, Mr. Steel and Mr. Mercury. Your classmates play rough.

SOUND: CACOPHONY OF WOODEN CLUNKS & BANGS.

MICK: Jay, what do we do?

JUNO: Personally, I think I say bye-bye to my arm, because it feels like Pinocchio over here’s gonna pull it out of its socket.

MICK: Seriously! Oww!

That one almost got me! I’d fend ‘em off for you, but you took my gun and—

JUNO: Yeah, yeah, don’t remind me! Just get the hell out of here, Mercury! I opened the door, you go without me. Maybe you can find the antidote on your own.

MICK: I’m not just gonna leave you!

JUNO: You’d better! Augh! The only thing I want less than for this wood shop project to rip me in two is to watch it rip you in two first!

MICK: But I can’t— oww!

JUNO: Just go before one of those things gets you!

MICK: I said I wasn’t gonna leave you!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And so in came Mick Mercury to the rescue, fists flying.

MICK: (YELLING)

JUNO (NARRATOR): And sure, it wasn’t exactly elegant—

MICK: Ow, ow, ow, ow, that smarts—!

JUNO (NARRATOR): —but it got the job done.

MICK: Hey, I got ‘em!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And there goes number two.

MICK: The other ones are getting closer!

JUNO: Make for the door, quickly!

SOUND: CLANKING NOISES FADE. PANTING, GASPING. DOOR CLOSES.

MICK: (COUGHING) That was a great idea, Jay… good on ya, closin’ that door behind us.

JUNO: Close it? I didn’t close it. I thought you did.

PROCTOR: Aaaaaaand locked!

SOUND: LOUD SNAP.

Did you really think I’d have remote controls on my mannequins and not on the doors, Mr. Steel? You underestimate my genius.

JUNO: To be honest, Proctor, I haven’t seen any evidence of it yet.

PROCTOR: Of course you have! I have accounted for every possibility! You have been outsmarted at every turn!

JUNO: (COUGHS) Funny. I remember us outsmarting you, twice so far.

PROCTOR: That’s—!

But you still haven’t passed the biggest test of all, have you? It is wise to save the most difficult questions for last, but… your hourglass is running low. Only ten minutes remain before the venom claims you, and only fifteen before I claim Ramses O’Flaherty. But you still have one test to pass: Arithmetic.

JUNO: Still doesn’t start with an R.

PROCTOR: The equation is simple, and I’m afraid I won’t be able to give you any hints on this one. You will find it written over the doorway you must pass through. And you will find the window you seek on its other side.

JUNO: What about the damn antidote?

PROCTOR: Oh, if you solve this test, Mr. Steel, you will certainly have found the antidote. Though I must say that’s a big “if.” Good luck.

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

JUNO: Alright… alright, let’s do this stupid puzzle. I think I can feel my lungs curdling.

MICK: Uh… Jay? Did you look at this equation yet? ‘Cause… I’m a liiiittle worried.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I looked.

JUNO: Oh, god damn it.

JUNO (NARRATOR): And this was what the Proctor wanted us to solve:

A stick figure, minus a skull and crossbones, equals a picture of an open door.

MICK: Is that algebra? I was never any good at algebra.

JUNO: The door will only open when we’re not poisoned anymore.

MICK: Hey, that’s alright! How do we do that?

JUNO: I have no idea.

MICK: That’s… less good.

JUNO: Either that, or, the door will only open for someone who isn’t poisoned…

And we know one way to get the antidote.

MICK: Jay, come on, don’t…

JUNO: Here. Take this gun. I never should’ve taken it from you. Just shoot me and get it over with.

MICK: I mean, come on. This isn’t funny.

JUNO: Usually I’m very funny, Mick. Just not trying right now.

MICK: I’m not gonna shoot you.

JUNO: You should.

MICK: Well, whether or not I should, I’m not, alright? You shoot me.

JUNO: No.

MICK: Why not?

JUNO: That’s a stupid question and you know it. I know you’ve got your dumb danger thing or whatever, but it’s a fantasy, and this is real. Just take the damn gun already.

MICK: My whole point was that I didn’t like my life the way it was, alright? I’m not gonna like it any better if I gotta think about shooting you all the time, okay?

JUNO: Hmph.

MICK: Look. We’ve still got ten minutes for this to turn out okay. Okay?

(COUGHS) Anything can happen in ten minutes, Jay. Anything.

JUNO (NARRATOR): Or, nothing can happen in ten minutes. We spent our time kicking the door, coughing, searching the walls for a secret passage, coughing, scanning the room with the Theia Spectrum, and coughing. But that was it. No way through, no secret passage, no hidden antidote: the room was bare. Mick and I were the only things in it.

Oh wait – I think at one point, Mick might’ve puked in the corner. But besides that, there was nothing in the room but us.

SOUND: COUGHING, PANTING.

MICK: How much more time we got?

JUNO: Two minutes.

MICK: That long? (PANTS) Agh, this hurts.

JUNO: (GASPING) So whaddya think, Mercury? Is this how you expected to die? Yukking it up and wishing you’d killed Juno Steel?

MICK: Kinda, yeah.

JUNO & MICK: (LAUGH-COUGHING) Ow, ow, ow!

JUNO: So it turns out this job wasn’t just the biggest mistake of your life, Mick: it was the last one, too.

MICK: Hey, don’t count me out yet. I still got a minute and a hal– agh! Ah-ahhh—!

JUNO: Mick? Mick!

MICK: No, no, I’m alright, I’m alright. (COUGHS) Hey, Jay… why d’you think she goes through all this, just to kill people? I mean… if she wanted to just poison us and lock us in a room, she coulda done it at two minutes in. Hell, she didn’t even need to wait for you – she coulda poisoned me while I was napping in the closet. So… why? Why would you do all that?

JUNO: That’s… that’s a good question, actually.

Well, I mean, based on what was riling her up earlier, she probably just wants to prove she's smarter than us?

MICK: What? But she’s a genius! Why’s she gotta prove it?

JUNO: Being smart and feeling smart are different things, Mick.

MICK: I guess so. I just can’t believe… she cheated us, after all that.

JUNO: Cheated us?

MICK: Yeah. I mean, I thought her whole thing was that her victims can technically make it through her tests alive, right? How’s it prove she’s so smart if she just poisons us and locks us in a room? It doesn’t seem fair.

JUNO: No… it doesn’t.

Actually, now that you mention it, it’s not fair at all.

MICK: I mean, yeah, I’m upset about it too, Jay, but I don’t know how much complaining’s gonna do right now—

JUNO: And it doesn’t prove a damn thing, does it? If one of us has to die, she hasn’t proven she’s smarter than us. It doesn’t make sense.

Mick, I’m about to do something really stupid.

MICK: Yeah? Mind if I join you?

JUNO: Kinda. Just promise me something, alright? If this goes bad – and, trust me, it’s probably gonna go bad – promise you’ll try the door? One last time?

MICK: How come I get the feeling this isn’t gonna be the fun kind of stupid, Juno?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Mick got that feeling for a good reason. Because the man was a disaster, and a mess, and a klutz, and a… well, you get the idea. But here’s one thing he wasn’t, not really: an idiot.

So I took the pistol the Proctor had given me, and I pointed it right in between my eyes.

SOUND: GUN COCKING.

MICK: Jay! What’re you doing?!

JUNO: Later, Mick. See you on the other side.

MICK: Put down that gun!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

Juno!

SOUND: THUMP.

Augh, Jay! Jayjay! Don’t leave me here, buddy, come back! You can’t just shoot yourself and leave me—!

JUNO: The other side of that doorway!

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

MICK: Owww! That smarts!

JUNO: Damn right it does. That’s what happens when you load your antidote into the barrel of a revolver, Mercury: you get all the fun of a shot with none of the cartoon band-aids.

MICK: But– hey, I-I feel better! The poison’s all gone! You did it, Jay! We made it! But how—?

SOUND: COMMS BEEP.

PROCTOR (FROM COMMS): Well done, Mr. Steel. Now, as promised: the door.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

Come along, I’m waiting for you.

JUNO: I’ll tell you while we run. Got a mayor to save.

SOUND: RUNNING FOOTSTEPS.

Honestly, Mick, you figured it out before I did. The answer’s all in the motive. Why does the Proctor kill the way she does?

MICK: To prove she’s smart, you said.

JUNO: Exactly. And it doesn’t count as proving she’s smart unless there’s a way we could have figured it out. She said that if we made it through her tests, we’d be cured – which we assumed meant she’d give us the antidote, but she never told us we didn’t have it already.

MICK: But… she told us to shoot each other!

JUNO: And because I’m your friend and you’re a moron, she knew we’d never do it.

(PANTING) So if we had to have access to the antidote somewhere, and there were no hidden compartments or anything in that room—

MICK: That means she had to have given us the antidote ahead of time! Wow, Jay. You’re really good at this, huh?

JUNO: I get by. Barely. And usually with a broken leg or three.

SOUND: DOOR OPENS.

This must be the room.

SOUND: WIND.

MICK: And that must be the window you were looking for, right?

JUNO: Looks like it, but… where the hell is the Proctor?

JUNO (NARRATOR): Through the window I could see the Fortezza courtyard below: the crowd of people shuffling into their seats and Ramses O’Flaherty shuffling his papers at the podium. I checked my watch. 11:55. Only five minutes until the Proctor took out Ramses… and I had no idea where the hell she was.

PROCTOR: (LAUGHING) You’ve done very well to make it this far, Mr. Steel, Mr. Mercury. Better than expected, I will admit. But this is the end of the line. Welcome to your Final Exam.

JUNO: Where the hell are you?! Damn it, you really did lie to us!

PROCTOR: I didn’t lie to you. I said I was waiting for you, and I was… just not in the Fortezza. When taking an exam, always remember to mark up the questions – that’s how they get you.

JUNO: Where are you?

PROCTOR: I’m afraid that is the sole question on your exam, Mr. Steel. Question one: where is the genius murderer? (LAUGHS) On the windowsill in front of you lies a long-range laser rifle. Enough to kill me, certainly… if you can find me. (CACKLING)

MICK: A rifle? So do you think… she’s somewhere down there, Jay?

JUNO: Maybe, yeah, she’s got to be.

SOUND: MECHANICAL CLICKS.

But… the rifle doesn’t have a stun setting! I can’t kill random people in the crowd!

MICK: You’ll get it, Jay. I know you’ll get it! You’re a sharpshooter! The sharpest there is!

JUNO: Mick…!

MICK: So you better watch yourself, Proctor! He’s the best sniper in this city! They call him One Eyeball Steel!

JUNO: Mick, nobody calls me that—

MICK: One-Ball Steel, then!

JUNO: Nope, nope, went the wrong way on that one.

PROCTOR: Only three minutes left, Mr. Steel. Your answer, please. (LAUGHS) All the best tests instruct just as much as they measure, you know. I wonder what you’ve learned from this one?

JUNO (NARRATOR): That was a good question. In fact, it might’ve been the first good question the Proctor had asked all day.

So what had I learned from this test? The Proctor was working with someone, that was for sure. Even a genius couldn’t manage to smuggle in all of those weapons and mannequins without some serious help. I’d learned that she had confidence issues, too – that whoever had hired her had probably pulled on that, told her that she’d never be able to pull off what she did twenty years ago. Which meant whatever the answer was to this exam, it had to be perfect. It had to be flawless.

JUNO: …Flawless.

PROCTOR: And don’t I know it.

JUNO: It’s got to be flawless. That means the diorama down there has to be completely accurate!

MICK: But you told me the diorama said the laser must have come through this window.

JUNO: Straight from here to the podium, Mercury – but it never said which direction.

MICK: She’s hiding inside the podium?!

PROCTOR: Time’s up, Mr. Steel. You have five seconds to answer.

JUNO (NARRATOR): There was no time, and another problem to deal with: in order to shoot a laser from here to the Proctor, I’d have to send it through Ramses O’Flaherty’s head. So I fired a shot to break the window—

SOUND: GUNSHOT. SHATTERING GLASS.

—and I gave the best warning I could.

SOUND: RAIN.

JUNO: (CALLING) Ramses! Duck!

JUNO (NARRATOR): And either it was my first stroke of luck for the day or the old man had a hell of a reaction time, because he was down on the ground before I was finished shouting his name.

THEIA: Target locked.

SOUND: GUNSHOT.

PROCTOR: (GASPS)

MICK: Did it work? Did it work??

SOUND: DISTANT SCREAMS. STATIC CRACKLING.

JUNO: I… guess so.

PROCTOR: (COUGHING) Very well done, Mr. Steel. Perhaps I… finally did meet my intellectual match.

JUNO: Alright, at the start of this whole mess you said you’d tell me who you’re working for if I passed all your tests. Well, I passed ‘em; start talking.

PROCTOR: I suppose I must… I haven’t much time left…

You want to know who hired me to kill Ramses O’Flaherty? It was his worst enemy, of course.

JUNO: Oh, come on! No more tests, no more riddles. I won.

PROCTOR: Education… is its own reward. Now, here's your final question.

(COUGHS) In order to find Ramses’s enemy, you must go home again.

JUNO: Home?! How the hell do you know where I live?

PROCTOR: A frozen place, this home… a land the past, of heroes, of justice… a place further than the inky blackness of space, yet as close as the heart of every child… Home, Mr. Steel. You’ll find Ramses’s enemy, if you just go home.

JUNO: Damn it, stop babbling and give me a straight answer!

PROCTOR: You’ll never solve this. I can hear it in your voice! You’ve lost! I’ve won!

JUNO: Don’t die on me! I’m talking to you!

PROCTOR: I’m the smartest! I’ve beaten you! I could beat… anybody… (PANTING)

SOUND: STATIC FADES.

***

JUNO (NARRATOR): Ramses barked a few orders and the cops were off with their tails between their legs looking for a way to get us down through the Fortezza window. In the meantime, Mick and I celebrated. As well as you can celebrate in the dusty old attic of the person you just killed, anyway.

SOUND: HEAVY RAIN.

MICK: So… we made it! That’s somethin’, right?

JUNO: Sure, Mick. It’s really somethin’.

MICK: Got a little hairy there for a few minutes, but I always knew we’d make it through! Or, at least, I often thought we would. Sometimes, suspected. (CHUCKLES)

Hey… what do you think that riddle she said at the end meant? It sounded pretty tricky to me.

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. But, if it’s all the same to you, I don’t really want to think about the Proctor right now.

MICK: I get it, I get it.

I-I just don’t understand, Jay. She was so smart. She made all those crazy traps and stuff while she was locked in a prison cell. And even if she did have help, she had to build all that so quickly, and so secretly… she must’ve been one of the smartest people on Mars.

So, why’d she have to prove that she was smart all the time? Why’d she have to kill people to do it?

JUNO: I don’t know, Mick. Why’s anybody hurt anybody?

MICK: I guess so. …I’m sorry.

JUNO: For what?

MICK: I don’t know. I just felt like one of us had to apologize, and you weren’t gonna do it.

JUNO: Yeah, that makes sense.

But look… Mick, maybe I should apologize. I gave you a lot of crap about your stupid danger theory, but… you were right. We made it out. Again.

(SIGHS) I wish you’d do something else, but who the hell knows? Maybe you’re onto something.

MICK: Wait, seriously? What are you, stupid?

JUNO: What?

MICK: Taking this job was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done, Jay! I didn’t make it out ‘cause I’m lucky, or I’m good at dealing with danger. I made it out ‘cause you bailed me out. I’d be chalk dust without you!

JUNO: That’s… probably true.

And surprisingly responsible.

MICK: I don’t know why nothing ever works out for me, but you were right. I don’t think getting in danger all the time’s the answer either.

Maybe it doesn’t really matter anymore. I mean… I’m just gonna make myself miserable if I’m always trying to be the guy I used to be. So I guess the hard part… the hard part is, figuring out who the hell I am now? …Does that sound right?

JUNO: You could always just stay so busy that you don’t have time to think about it. That’s usually what I do.

But, for what it’s worth, Mercury, I think when you finally figure out who you are… you’re gonna make an impact.

MICK: Aw, Jay, that’s the nicest—

JUNO: Only question is whether the impact is the galactic-peace kind or the gigantic-smoking-crater kind. Could really go either way.

MICK: …Oh. That still might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.

JUNO: You’re welcome.

JUNO (NARRATOR): The cops got us down a few minutes later. I told Mick to go home and then waited on the edge of the crowd while Ramses talked down the reporters.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about the Proctor. About the sound she’d made on her last breath. It wasn’t that I thought I shouldn’tve killed her; I-I was… just a little shaken, I guess.

Because, if real evil exists, then the Proctor – a woman who killed twenty people without remorse – was it. But that means sometimes evil is just someone trying to prove to the world that they’re worth something. Or just prove it to themselves, maybe.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING.

RAMSES: Juno. You cut it a little close at the end there, but over all… nice work. Come on. I’ll give you a ride home.

JUNO: Home…

This isn’t over yet, Ramses.

RAMSES: Hmm?

JUNO: The Proctor said she’d been hired by someone to kill you. Your worst enemy, she said, and whoever they are, I don’t think they’re gonna let up.

RAMSES: Did she, now. Well. I suppose that’s what I have you for.

JUNO: Ramses, I don’t know—

RAMSES: What else did the Proctor say to you?

JUNO: It was some kind of riddle, I guess, I– couldn’t make any sense of it. Something about going home, a place of heroes, as distant as the stars and close as kids’ hearts…?

RAMSES: (CHUCKLING, THEN FULL-ON HOWLING WITH LAUGHTER)

MUSIC: STARTS.

JUNO: What? …What’s so funny?

RAMSES: An interesting place to strike. I’m surprised I hadn’t thought of it sooner.

JUNO: You know the answer to the riddle?

RAMSES: I do, in fact.

SOUND: CAR PULLS UP.

My limo will bring you home. On second thought, I don’t think I’ll be coming with you. I have some calls to make.

JUNO: But Ramses—

RAMSES: Tomorrow morning, I think… no, no, I’ll send a car for you again tomorrow night. Rest up until then.

JUNO: Ramses, listen to me, damn it! Where the hell is she trying to send us? All this stupid stuff about my home?

RAMSES: (CHUCKLES) Oh, Juno. When she said ‘home,’ she didn’t mean yours. She meant mine.

SOUND: KNOCKING.

Bring him home, please.

JUNO: Ramses, you can’t start talking nonsense, too.

RAMSES: All in good time, my friend. Rest up. Tomorrow night… adventure awaits.

SOUND: CAR DOOR SLAMS.

JUNO (NARRATOR): I watched him as the car pulled away – Ramses O’Flaherty, who hadn’t even existed thirty years ago, who had a good shot at being the next mayor of Hyperion City. Ramses O’Flaherty: the man who was all future and no past.

There was something appealing about that, I’ll admit. The thought that you could just shed your old self like an old skin and become someone new. Someone important. Someone like Ramses O’Flaherty.

So turn your back on the past, Steel. Tie yourself to the man of the future… and hope that what’s ahead is better than what you left behind.

MUSIC: ENDS.

***

SOUND: TRAIN MOVING, MUSIC.

CONDUCTOR: If you've enjoyed this tale, please consider donating to The Penumbra on Patreon. Our artists work tirelessly to bring you these stories, and if you have the means, we hope you will support our efforts. Every dollar helps. You can find that page at patreon.com/thepenumbrapodcast. If you support us on Patreon at the $10 level or higher, you will receive access to commentary tracks like this one, from Noah Simes, co-creator Kevin Vibert, and actors ALlison Choat and Stefano Perti:

SOUND: TRAIN STOPS, DOOR SLIDES OPEN, RAIN.

NOAH: …I mean I think this is a testament both Kevin, to your writing of Mick and Stefano, your portrayal of him, but, y’know, I– I certainly can sort of identify with that feeling of like, I haven’t done… enough, or I haven’t done what I’m supposed to do—

STEFANO: Yes. Please don't have let that have been my greatest moment—

NOAH: Right, right, yeah!

STEFANO: —no matter what that moment is.

NOAH: Right, beca– right. You never know what the high peak is gonna be, and you just pray that it…

SOUND: DOOR SLIDES SHUT.

CONDUCTOR: You can also support The Penumbra by liking us on Facebook, following us on Twitter @thepenumbrapod, following us on Tumblr @thepenumbrapodcast, telling your friends about us, telling your friends to tell their friends about us, and especially by rating and reviewing our podcast on iTunes. Every rating, comment, and kind word spreads our stories further and inspires us to keep creating more and better tales to come.

We would like to give special thanks to all who support us on Patreon, but especially to Jaimie Gunter, The Princess and the Scrivener, Hannah Tsim, and Elizabeth Miller for their incredibly generous contributions per episode. Thank you.

This tale, Juno Steel and the Lesson Learned, was told by the following people: Joshua Ilon as Juno Steel, Matthew Zahnzinger as Ramses O’Flaherty, AlLison Choat as the Proctor, and Stefano Perti as Mick Mercury.

On staff at The Penumbra: Kevin Vibert is our lead writer and recording engineer. Sophie Kaner is our director and sound designer. Grahame Turner is our script editor. Noah Simes is our production manager. Alice Chung is our designer and financial manager. Original music by Ryan Vibert. Promotional art by Mikaela Buckley.

The Penumbra is created and produced by Sophie Kaner and Kevin Vibert.

I'm afraid this is the end of the line for today, dear Traveler. We hope you will ride with The Penumbra again soon.

ALL SOUNDS: FADE OUT.

[enygma0710]

Drabble Tag Challenge

If you’re tagged on this, you’ve been challenged to write a 100 words or more drabble of Jonerys!

You then earn the right to tag 3 people on your drabble and challenge them to do it as well. Not mandatory, but this is a fun and easy way to encourage creators and spread more fan content!  

Pick from the dialogue prompts -OR- Free choice drabble.

Tagged by @thescarletgarden1990 thanks for challenging me ;-D and I am challenging @xxthewolvenstormxx  @freshhexes  and @starkgaryen4life 

If you’ve been tagged, my feelings wont be hurt if it’s ignored. So before I drop this drabble, I feel I need to give a disclaimer, LOL

Drabbles are my Kryptonite, like legit every story I write I have to build up these extensive ass backstories for the universe and the characters and how they will react to a situation and function in the universe i’m either playing in or modifying. So that being said, this drabble takes place in my unreleased, modern AU Jonerys fic; Once in a Lifetime. Thats where my mindset is right now, I wrote two others in the traditional Westeros but it just didn’t work. 2nd disclaimer; this is a really random af drabble, I write some random shit but this is more than usual. See Authors note at bottom for explanation. 

I will probably put this on A03 once I get the main fic on there, but at a much later date.  

My prompt: “ Have you lost your damn mind?” and 

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified” -slightly modified

Robb and Jon whooped and clapped, as they watched the larger man, dressed in bright blue spandex, swing his opponents like a rag doll as his power ball bounced off the rim, missing the basket. “I can’t believe your brother recorded these.” Robb elbowed Jon to pass the chips. Jon begrudgingly passed the bowl over to Robb.

Daenerys plopped down on the couch behind them. “Rhae loved Westerosi Gladiators growing up. My father got tired of Rhae recording over his westerns, so for his birthday he gave him a case of VHS tapes and let him go to town.” Dany reached for the bowl, snatching it away from Robb. “He recorded everything; Gladiators, Old WWF and EWF matches, cartoons, movies, music videos. He only stopped because my father refused to buy him another case of tapes.”

Jon turned away from the action of Atlasphere on the screen, to look at his friend. “These are classics, they don’t show the reruns anymore.” Robb cheered loudly, bringing Jon’s attention back to the show.

“They show them all the time in Naath,” Missy chimed in as she sat down next to Dany on the couch. “This is an early season, Storm’s not in it.”

“I like The Mountain, I heard he’s the only gladiator that no one has knocked off on ‘Human Cannonball’”

“Makes sense, you see the size of that guy?” Jon asked, as he grabbed his drink. “I like Nitro and Gemini, I wouldn’t want to go against either of them in Powerball.”

“Oh, I love Storm, Zap is my favorite.” Dany was bouncing up and down. Jon looked back and laughed at how excited she was getting. “Oh, they are about to do Joust! Watch Zap!”

They focused back on the TV and watched as the blond gladiator pummeled her opponent off her platform into the mat below. “Ohhhhhh! That was brutal, I wonder if they’ll do Hang Tough this episode.”

“You know we could do that.”

“Do what?” Jon asked.

“Hang Tough, there are rings at the playground down the street.” Robb turned to Jon. “Feel up to the challenge?”

Jon smirked, setting down his drink. “I’m game if your game, Stark.”

Robb jumped up. “Let’s go.”

Daenerys stood next to Missy, watching the two ‘brothers’ warm up before their match of makeshift Hang Tough. She left Missy walking over towards Jon, shaking her head. “Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Never knew you to be one that cursed, Dany.” Jon grinned, rolling his shoulders. Robb next to him doing push-ups.  Both of them had just gotten off punishment after pulling another stunt they tried, after watching an old EWF match. Mrs. Stark walked in on Jon and Robb doing a body slam with a stunner while Arya and Bran cheered on.

“Oh, shut it,” Dany rolled her eyes. “You two are bigger idiots than I thought, the only idiot missing is Theon.”

“You rang?” Theon sauntered over, giving Robb a high five.

“Oh Gods,” Missy muttered.

Theon grinned, “I stopped by and Sansa told me, you guys were here, but for what? I thought we were watching Gladiators.”

“I challenged Jon to Hang Tough.”

“Snow?” Theon’s face split into a shit eating grin, clapping his hands. “Oh, this I got to see.”

Jon and Robb stood at opposite sides of the small ring course.

“Ready, set, GO!”

Robb and Jon launched themselves onto the rings, swinging towards each other. Jon was the quickest and met Robb first. They both started kicking at each other, laughing trying to knock the other off the rings. Dany watched with some trepidation as the brothers tried to take the other down.  Theon kept jumping up and down egging Robb on to take Jon down and would switch when Jon got the advantage, causing Robb to yell “Who’s friend are you?”. Missy stood behind Dany, alternating between cheering on Jon and muttering “Gods this is stupid”. Daenerys kept silent and didn’t cheer on either but was the first to notice the gleam in Robbs eye change from determined to mischievous. Robb kicked away from Jon, swinging his legs behind him, gaining fast momentum and before Jon could react, Robb swung his leg forward, wrapping his legs around Jon’s waist, simultaneously letting go of his rings. The force of Robb colliding with Jon, ripped the rings from Jon’s grip sending them both hurtling towards the ground and landing with a crash.

“Oh SHITE!!!” Dany yelled as they hit the ground, she ran over to the tangled limbs of Robb and Jon.

Robb’s eyes were closed, he winced holding his head. “Oh Gods,”

“Are you alright?”

“Told you this was stupid.”

Robb nodded and tried to move but Jon was sprawled on top of his legs.

“Jon?”

Jon didn’t answer, his arm laid at an odd angle.

“Oh, shite did you break it.”

“I don’t think so.”

Jon tried to push himself up but faltered, landing hard on Robbs legs, “Shite.”

“It’s dislocated,” Dany stated as she squatted down next to Jon.

“How the hell do you know this?”

“My Father has a bad shoulder, it dislocates occasionally. It needs to be reset Jon.”

Jon gingerly rolled off Robbs legs. “No, I’ll be fine.” He used his good arm to stand up.

“That fall did more than dislocate your shoulder, it rattled your brain as well. Let me reset it.”

“Can’t you bang it against the wall or something?”

“No, Theon and shut up, Jon I can set it for you.”

“No,” Jon winced. “I’ll just ask Uncle Benjen, he’s visiting today, he’ll know what to do.”

“No,” Robb rasped as he stood up and limped. “You know Father is out of town and if he finds out we got injured from rough housing again- “

“We’re Fucked.”

Jon turned hesitantly towards Dany, his shoulder was throbbing and his fingers were growing numb.

“Do you trust me?”

He locked his gaze on hers and saw the determination and resolve reflected in them. He nodded. Dany tightly gripped his right hand with her left and placed her right hand over his right shoulder. “Its going to hurt but only for a minute, ready?”

“Just do it.” He gritted out.

“On the count of three, one-two-three,” Dany swiftly jerked his arm up and towards her, Jon yelled over the audible pop of his shoulder going back in its socket. He was sore, his fingers were still numb but she was right the pain was brief. “Thanks.” He panted.

Daenerys let go of his hand, giving a shiny grin. “Anytime Snow.”

Later, they found themselves slowing making their way back towards the Starks residence. In front of them, Theon was helping a limping Robb. Daenerys and Missy walking beside him. “Well we’ll see you guys later.”

“You aren’t coming with us? What about the tapes?”

“No, I’m going to walk Missy home and Rhae won’t mind.” Daenerys smiled and reached over, chuffing him on the side of his head.

“What was that for?” Jon winced.

“That’s for not listening to me and being an idiot.” She smirked, her lavender eyes bright. “Bye Snow,” she waved and turned away from him, walking towards Missy.

Jon stood on the sidewalk, quietly observing Dany and Missy. A warm, tingling sensation clawing at his chest,  

“Oi, you alright?” Theon voice snapped Jon from his thoughts.

The smile gone and replaced with a scowl. No, I don’t think so, far from it.

Theon and Robb, now stood beside him. Both looking back and forth between Jon and the duo walking away.

“Why do you look like you swallowed a bit of bitter?”

What the hell is wrong with me? “Nothing, just worried about getting caught by your Mother.”

Theon nodded in understanding, but Robb just stared, giving a disbelieving look. Jon cough, rubbing his neck. “Let’s just get home and come up with a story that won’t get us both grounded for a week.”

The boys continued on their way, devising a story to keep the suspicion low on their injuries. As for Jon his thoughts drifted off, away from the Theon and Robb, but to his silver hair friend and the curious new feeling she caused, Shite I think I’m in love and I’m terrified.

Author Notes: So this drabble is damn near a one-shot. I tend to write alot, LOL. I got inspiration while cleaning and came across several episodes we recorded as kids of Double Dare, GUTS, Legends of the Hidden Temple and American Gladiators. Hooked up probably the last working VCR and watched for nostalgia. So that’s how American Gladiators came to Westeros LOL

[gabriellapatterson-blog]

A Drunken Confession

A/N: That’s an out of context spoilers up there. Have fun reading!

Saying goodbye to my family was a bitter rerun. Except this time I didn’t get cookies from the town mayor/baker and I’d be seeing my family again sooner rather than later. We were down to the final six, this wouldn’t go on for much longer. Not to mention I still wasn’t sure if I should tell Ben or not about the kissing dream but if I did I’d probably be gone the next day.

As I hugged them all goodbye my dad whispered in my ear. “Can I talk to you in private for a moment.”

I nodded but was a little confused about why he wanted to. We went inside my bathroom being the only private place I could think of I sat down on the rim of my bath as he leaned against the counter.

“You’re falling for Wyatt.” He stated bluntly with a bit of a smug grin.

“I AM NOT!” I yelled back full force and standing up from my seat, forgetting about the rest of my family. My mom who would probably drag me home by my ponytail if she knew I was falling for someone illegal for me to fall for and my sisters who two of them were too young to really understand.

He chuckled, “keep your voice down. You mom won’t believe me on my plan to tell her I was talking to you about my poems if you screech again.”

I sighed and sat back down on my ledge. “You know your mom was- is just like you. I know you don’t like hearing that because there are some major differences like she’s a cynic you’re an optimist, that’s my fault. But you have her defense stubborn nature. She must have bullied me for a year when she first fell for me.” He chuckled to himself as my face flushed in rage and embarrassment.

“I. do. Not. like. Wyatt.” I replied and crossed my arms. “He’s weird!” I added.

My dad laughed again, “You’ve just convinced yourself you don’t like him because it’s both unconventional for the selection, and because you’re again, like your mother. You don’t like feeling feelings without having been prepared for the feelings. I believe I have a poem about how romance rushes in, it doesn’t like giving you time to prepare which is something both you and your mother hate. You lash out defensively and end up being rude to the people you like.” He paused to stifle some laughter.

“Which is ironic considering you confessed to him in that very way today. What was it “I like you.” Then you turned to me and said, that's why you said boys were mean to me in elementary school, right? Yup. You act like an elementary school boy, Gabby.” He replied.

I wanted to argue. I knew I should argue. But I also knew my dad was right. He knows me so well and I’ve seen that defensive nature in both my mom and I before, just on things other than romance. I clenched my jaw as I managed to get out the words to the point, “Why are you bringing this up?” I asked.

“Well, back at the library you didn’t seem to really notice how you felt about Wyatt, otherwise you wouldn't have confessed to him. Second you unfortunately did not get my side of the families tendency to be bold. You like to act it but never follow through on the things that matter. You’ll glady swim with a shark but would never actually be emotionally vulnerable, which I’m not saying that’s bad it just makes relationships difficult. You’re my daughter so I just want you to be happy. You seem happy with him but you’re too much of a chicken to actually do anything about it.”

“That’s not true!” I insisted.

“Whatever happened with that boy you liked in high school? The one who was one of your mom’s patients?”

My eyebrows furrowed as I got his point. But I didn’t want to. I’m not a coward, I don’t do bad things, and dating Wyatt would be a bad thing, confessing to wyatt would be a bad thing, anything involving Wyatt is just bad. He’s just a dork. Why would I let myself get this racked up over a little- well he’s actually pretty tall- but anyways, why would I let myself get racked up over a mocking, witty, funny, ugh!

“Just let him know how you feel. I know you think it’s risky but the royals seem nice. They won’t penalize you for being honest. I know your mom would oppose the risk which is why I brought you in here, but that’s also why your mom’s first boyfriend was me. I was the only one who could get past her shell. Anyways, I just want you to be happy, but you shouldn’t expect people to read your mind. You have to be honest even if it’s scary.” He said.

I nodded and took his advice as much as I didn’t want to. If I wanted to be happy in life I needed to be honest. I like Wyatt. I may be scared because probability is he doesn’t like me back, but there’s no way I’ll ever know if I don’t put myself out there.

“Michael! We need to head out!” I heard mom say from my room.

We got up to head back out and my dad put his hand on my shoulder, “Remember Gabby, let your heart lead you. It’ll take you to a happy end.”  

We went out and regathered with the family. Mom gave me a tight up before they left, “Stay safe, Ella! Remember to be sensible. Use good judgement!” She said as they shuffled off leaving me alone again in my room.

I let out a sigh at everything running around in my head. I don’t like Wyatt, I do like Wyatt, I should go off of my gut and my heart, I should use my head and be sensible. I don’t know. I grumbled and laid down in my bed and took a nap. My go to activity for when I’m stressed.

I woke up at lunch time as my maids came in to get me ready to go down. I couldn’t see Wyatt like this. Let alone function. Hazel would probably pick up right away. She may be young but the girl is observant. I huffed and buried my face into my pillow.

“I don’t feel well, I want to stay up here for lunch and dinner.” I replied my voice muffled into my pillow. They listened and quickly left me alone again.

I just wanted to go back to sleep and stay asleep. Like sleeping beauty. Sleep through all the stress and drama and just wake up to my prince char- to my love interest kissing me awake. Though, I suppose that doesn’t really sound to consensual.

I rolled over in bed and shut my eyes tight as I tried to go back to sleep. All I could think about was the Wyatt situation. I still didn’t know what to do. Would Ben be hurt? Well I think he likes me but enough that it would hurt him if I told that I liked Wyatt. Would Wyatt tell Ben if I just told him? Would Ben tell Wyatt if I told him?

“Ughhhhh!” I groaned.

“Is everything alright, Gabriella?” I heard a voice speak.

“WHAT THE HELL!” I yelled as I sat up and I identified the voice as my maid Lily.

I sighed in relief as I now knew who it was, “What are you doing in here?” I asked since I had dismissed them earlier.

“Oh well you said you weren’t feeling well so Rose, Violet, and I have been going back and forth on checking on you. It was my turn.”

“What? I’ve been awake I didn’t hear any of you.” I asked confused as I looked around and saw my clock which said it was now 11pm. WHAT. Apparently, I had gone to sleep but still had been deep thinking, what?

“You’ve been asleep for awhile, actually. So is everything alright?” She asked again.

“Oh yeah I’m just stressed.” I sighed then rolled over and grabbed my pillow tossing it up in the air and catching it again, an activity I had started doing while on bedrest.

“Lily, what do you do when your stressed?” I asked.

She chuckled, “I normally get blackout drunk and watch a movie, doesn’t seem like a very you thing though.” She replied. Being drunk sounds actually great right now.

“Lily, can you bring me like, all the wines, a way to watch a movie, and a horrible chick flick?” I asked.

I then spent about a two hours downing three bottles of wine and screaming about Bella from twilight being a hoe. How can she do this to Mr shiny! He’s supposed to be with her! Now she’s off flirting with hairy mc-hair boy! I huffed and got up.

I needed to tell Wyatt about this movie! It was so intense! There was like murder! Blood! Sparkles! It was the epitome of- what was I saying again? It was movie good!

I stumbled on my feet as I sloppily got dressed and waddled up to his room. I walked up the step somehow not slipping down all of them, but by the time I made it to his room I had more or less forgotten why I came up there.

I knocked loudly on his door not having too great motor control, “Whyyyyyy-hit.” I slurred and had to stop for a small hiccup, “Why-hit.” I said again with a giggle thinking of his name as a pun on the word why.

I didn’t hear anything so I just turned and pressed my back against the door and dropped to the ground. The world was spinning and Why-hit was probably asleep. I giggled to myself again. “Whyyyyyattt-whhhhyyy.” I said with another giggle, “is the world spinning. So many whys. Why, Y, then wyatt. Its a name- word- in a nameee.” I said then accidentally hit my head on the door, “Owwwww.” I said.

I heard a quick shuffle from inside the room before the door flung open causing my to fall back on the ground fully laying down now and looking up at Wyatt. “Gabby?” He asked.

“Heyyy Wyatttt.” I said and giggled some more. “You have ah-an- a funny name. Did you know that? It's very fun to say though. Wyyyyattt.”

He blinked seeming surprised at my presence then frowned and crouched down so be closer to my level. “Where have you been all day?” Oh yeahhh he’s my right side table mate. I’ve missed lunch and dinner today. HAH maybe that’s why this stuff is so strong. Empty tummy. Hah TUMMY.

“My room. I haven't been feeling well so I took a nap all day. I feel great now though! I got three bottles of wine.” I said and reached up to put three fingers up but forgot what I was doing to I decided to squish Wyatt’s face instead, “Can I come innnn my room is so far away and the world is so dizzy. I don't wanna be on bedrest againnnn.” Since I’d probably fall and sprain my ankle again if I tried to walk too far like this.

He gave me a flat look, “So you're drunk?” He asked his voice muffled by his squished cheeks.

I let go of his face and kept one of my arms up for a very matter of fact point, “I am not drunk! I do not drink! I have drink once! I was 16! I'm a different person now. I'm just a litttttttllllleee bit tipsy now. But I've had a really- complicated- er confusing, maybe just horrible day so I needed it.”

“You didn't need it.” He said and tried to help me sit up.

“I needed it.” I was too busy thinking about our hot and steamy dream kiss I needed the wines to help the head thoughts. I rolled over to get on my knees then decided to just sit on them.

“My dad also kinda told me to. Since he told me I needed to not be such a chicken and al-alc- alc-o-ha whatever, makes you less of a chicken. Sitting up is so much workkk, can I come in your room?”

He gave me an unimpressed look, “I only understood 30% of the words you just said.”  Well that sucks for him because I understood 110%. He then looked down the hallway and pulled on my arm to help me get up, “You might as well get in so you can sober up.”

I giggled then shot up, “Yayyy, I havent been in your roombeforesince nayalya did the taking.” I mumbled slurring my words together. I looked around quickly before deciding I wanted to sit on his bed. Wyatt tried to block me BUT FOOL I PLAYED BASKETBALL so I got around him and flopped face first on his bed. “Your bed smells like you.” I said my voice muffled from the bed before I turned my head to breath.

Wyatt blushed at that and wiped his hands on his pants for some reason. Then decided to turn on the bigger room lights and pour me some water. I don’t need that! I’m not a wuss! All I need is more winesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss. “I'll take that as a compliment.” He said.

“You're cute when you blush. You're like a little tomato its funny. I wish I liked tomatoes. The idea of them is so appealllinnggg hahhhhh appealing beacause you peel tom- you dont peel tomatoes do you?”

He took a deep breath and finished pouring the water, “Why do I always have to deal with drunk girls?”

“Do you constantly have to? This is very very unlike me. I dont get drunk offten because last time I got drunk I tattled on my bitch friend and told everyone she was a bitch then kicked her off the cheer team. Then I'm pretty sure Emma got rid of the party. SHE WAS A BITCH THOUGH!” I said with 0 filter.    

Wyatt stared at me in bewilderment, “What?”

“I'm sorry that was just the last time I was drunk. There was this girl in my cheer squad, Nina. She made Emma anorexic and was a general bitch so i got drunk ans publically called her out. Then she stole my boyfriend. I do stupid things when i drink, conclusion.” I explained giving him the chalked up summary.

“High schools can't possibly be like the movies.” He mumbled to himself.

I looked up at Wyatt from the bed, “What do you know about high school? Are you judging off of fiction? like the horses?You said that was wrong to do? but here you are. Judging! Though I guess your source is right because they are like them. Though I was not too good at being a hot cheerleader.” I paused to flop my head back onto the bed then yelled into the mattress, “No one would ever date me because I'm too defensive!” My reason for not being a good stereotypical cheerleader.  

“I was actually implying that I didn't judge them to be like the movies but you are making them sound like they are.” He replied then laughed at my second part. “I see... pity for them I guess.” He said walking over with the glass of water.

I then sat up in the bed ready to take the water and took the glass as I spoke, “Yeah a real pity. I'm a mighty fine catch. That's a phrase right? Yeah because its with fish in the sea. I almost got one but then I was too prideful to talk to him and Nina took him. His name was Jonathan. He was actually a lot like you, you're cuter though. But youre both mega dorks but somehow make it look cool.”

Once I compared the two Wyatt’s eyes got wide, his cheeks red, and he cleared his throat, “Uh, thanks.. I think.”

“You should think!” I chimed then pat him on the back. Then realized that didn’t quite make sense. “I dont think thats right. You should say thanks! it was intended as a compliment! there! Do you have any food?” I asked and took a sip of the water. I forgot what a blessing water was, “God i love water.” I said then set the cup down on his nightside table and flopped back down, sitting up being such a chore.

He blinked then walked over to his mini fridge, “So... how exactly did you end up here again?”

I thought for a moment trying to remember why I had come, then it hit me. THE MOVIE. “OH YEAH THATS RIGHT! Have you seen- okay so I don't remember their names, but I was watching these amazing movies while I was drinking! They're so good I had to tell you. There's like a sparkly person and a hairy boy and blood and murder!”

He crouched down to take out some, blessed oreos, and milk but paused to give me a look, “That doesn't really sound like my style of movie.” It is everyone’s style of movie. IT’S AMA-ZONG.  

“It's based off of a book! What was it called?” I asked as I went distraught in thought and rolled on his bed. “TWILIGHT!” I exclaimed.

He raised his eyebrows as he opened the package of oreos, “Oh wow, you must be really drunk.”

“Oh my God cookies!” I exclaimed as they were closer now and scootched over to them.

“I keep chips in my room at home but cookies are a better idea. And I'm not thattttt drunk. I asked my maid Lily what she does when she's stressed and she says she drinks and watches movies so I asked for a bad movie because they're funny BUT IT WAS ACTUALLY REALLY GOOD”

He rolled his eyes clearly trying to hold back a smile as he handed me a glass of milk and the cookies. “People don't tend to describe Twilight as "really good".”

“Well they should. I should be a movie critic I would be FANTASTIC I know all the acting and filming shit.”

“I'm so sure.” He said as he pulled a beanie bag over by the bed and plopped down on it. HAH ITS MY BED NOW. He then opened a can of canada dry, doesn’t that soda just taste like fizzy nothing? “Enlighten me.” He added.

“Well- like here's the first thing the scenes they get DARKER in dark parts of the movie. its artistic genius! and the actors are all like so into it. and the main character is like her name has meaning but i forget what it is BUT IT'S GOOD BELIEVE ME THAT!”

He nodded like ‘yes but of course’ and took a swig of his drink, “Sounds legit.”

My eyebrows furrowed and my cheeks flushed at the word, “I hate that word.”

He snorted and tried to sit up straighter in the beanie, “Why?”

“Well I wanna prove my dad wrong that I am NOT a coward so I'll tell you- hah stop saying i look like chicken little HE'S A COWARD AND I'M NOT A COWARD- sorry.” Wyatt grinned at my vine reference.

“But anyways. I had a dream the night you brought my toast but in my dream we kissed. When it ended you said "that was legitness" its been haunting me since and honestly is the reason I drank and didn't come to lunch or dinner because my dad said I liked you. Which I don't! at least I think i don't. I'm pretty sure I don't. *pauses* Well I do like you. But there wasn't a point in saying so until he had to call me a coward because now I had to prove that I'm not!” His grin quickly faded as I spoke and he seemed surprised when I mentioned the kiss. He stood up as I finished talking and laughed nervously.

“No, no. No, no. I really doubt you like me. It's just the alcohol speaking.” He tried to reason.

“No no. No no, I do. My dad knows me like the back of my hand. I get defensive and attack when I feel insecure which he pointed out. I'm that way with you being I like you and it catches me off guard so I amp up defense and bully. Which he pointed out was ironic since I jokingly said I liked you like one of those elementary school boys when I was apologizing but it's 100% true. You're dorky, cute, funny, your admirable, you have great interests, and being with you honestly just makes me feel entirely different than how I feel when I hang out with other people. I'm able to focus more on the present instead of stressing and just genuinely enjoy spending time with you. I like you. That I'm 100% certain which is what I realized today and why I hid in my room.” I explained. His face got redder and redder as I explained. He was clearly panicking. For some reason I wasn’t, shouldn’t I be? Oh wait no I’m drunk.

He plopped back down on his beanie and looked up at me for a moment before our eyes caught eachothers and he panicked and looked away. “I-Um, I enjoy spending time with you as well.” He said as he face palmed. He’s really working to hard. I don’t expect him to do anything but reject me here I’m not that unrealistic.

I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing finding it funny how much he had panicked, granted had the roles been reversed I probably would have reacted similarly. “I get it. You know I may be academically dumb but that doesn't mean I'm reckless. I know how to weigh pros and cons. I've already considered how you feel about me and decided that it seems you didn't like me. You don't have to try and formulate a perfect reply. We can just keep being friends for these last few weeks till I'm sent away.” I couldn’t help but to be smiley at his cute flustered face, but I had to be nice so I laid back down in bed and looked at the ceiling so he wouldn’t have to worry about eye contact.

“Anyways, it explains my weird behavior of eye contact avoiding a few days ago before breakfast. Additionally, any other weird behavior since then. Also my dads comments about me being like my mom. Apparently, she bullied him for their whole first year of knowing each other. He was too much of a dork supposedly.”

He sat up in the beanie bag and leaned forward on resting his elbows on his knees and sat in silence for a moment. Oh no, that’s a serious thing. He’s gonna say something serious, “So... that means I’m too much of a dork as well.”

I burst out laughing and rolled over on my side to look at him as I spoke, “I believe I established earlier, you're dorky enough that you somehow make it cool. Still enough for me to bully you for but not in an actual bad way.”

He looked to the floor once I rolled over, “I’m a paradox then.”

“I suppose so. That's probably why I drank like so much wines. Too much thinking because of paradox. Like is he an annoying dork? Is he a cute dork? Both Both is good. The Road to El Dorado.” I said making another reference.

He chuckled, “The best of both worlds?”

Hah! He’s activated my trap card, in my horrible horrible, bad enough that your father writes a poem about it singing I started, “YOU GET THE LIMO OUT FRONT UOAHAHAU.”

He covered his ears, “Oh no, I take it back, stop!”

I started laughing at his reaction then gathered myself, “It's too late, Schreave! It's your itsy bitsy hell but hannah montana now! HOtTEST STYLeS, EvERY SHoE EveRy ColOR!”

He got up and threw a blanket on top of me hoping that would be enough to stop me, “you’re not a superstar.”

I managed to flop some of the blanket off of me, “I have to be a superstar. Otherwise you wouldn't have taken all those pictures of me. It's truly because I'm a-” I did a dramatic pause and flipped my hair, “A superstar.”

He gave me a flat look, “Yes, you’re right. That must be it.”

I chuckled, “So what did you think of my family anyways? You didn't get to meet Mae or my mom but other than those 2.”

“Ellie is quite enthusiastic...it reminds me a bit of Hazel when she was younger.” He said and sat back down on his beanie. “Your dad kind of reminds me of my own, though mine holds back more when it comes to telling embarrassing stories about us-” He paused, “-Usually.”

I chuckled, “Yeah he aimed to destroy. You didn't get too see too much of Riley's personality because she's a lot more reserved around strangers but she's pretty chill. And mom and Mae, Mae is 13 months old and really likes bananas. Mom is very serious and likes to do her work at the hospital. I don't see her too much because of it but dad tries to remind her to take breaks.”

“And you went through life surfing and being a cheerleader with a girl you hated?” The question threw me off since we weren’t really on the topic of high school or cheer or Nina.

“You mean Nina? Nina only did cheerleading so it wasn't too big of a deal and it was just the first 3 years of high school. I also did other sports too and surfing so I had a lot of time away from her. Plus aren't you the one that was all like-” I paused and held my hand up making a mouth puppet with my thumb and other fingers, “sometimes you have to put up with nasty people for the GrEaTeR GoOD." I said in a mocking voice opening the hand mouth along with it.

He narrowed his eyes, “The outcome of Illéan economy doesn’t really depend on you being a cheerleader.”

I chuckled and put my hand down, “Well it mattered to me an I enjoyed being a cheerleader. I didn't see why I should stop just because another girl was a bitch. Honestly I should have gotten drunk and kicked her off the team much sooner than I did. I do good things when I drink. Like this time, I got cookies.”  

He nodded awkwardly and looked around the room, “Why were you still up?” I asked.

He looked back at me and hesitated for a moment before standing up and walking over to his desk covered with the photos. “I couldn't sleep, so I figured I should find something to do.”

I stumbled to get up curious to look at the photos and made my way over to them, “Why couldn't you sleep?” I asked.

He shrugged, “Well, my sleeping schedule isn't the best to begin with, but I guess with everything happening lately, it's only gotten worse.” HE'S LIKE BEN.

My daughter of a doctor instincts kicked in, “You should get a good sleep schedule, its high-hih-” I couldn't help but to giggle a bit as a struggled with the word, gosh drunk gabby is not good at arguing, “Very important! Health!” I said and threw my arms up.

He chuckled, “You say this as you stand before me drunk at..” He looked to his clock, “half an hour away from 2 A.M.”

“As I said before.” I said and pointed my finger at him, “I am n-no not! drunk. Just a litttleee wee bit tipsy. And this is not a normal thing for me. I would be asleep by now. Well most days. Recently I've been up late scared I'll have another that was legitness dream.”

He poked me on my forehead with his index finger to prove how off balance I was which resulted in me flopping back down onto his bed. He then cleared his throat and turned back to the pictures, “That traumatizing, huh?”

“Very.” I replied then realized that may have hurt his feelings, “Not because kissing you would be bad or even gross, though that is what I've been telling myself to try and persuade myself out of it, but I don't think it would be bad in a horrific sense, it's just been stressful because I've been going through the steps of like well maybe it'll just go away, and then it didn't, and then maybe I should tell you and/or Ben but I decided not too because keeping it to myself means nothing bad could happen and maybe it was just a blip and I would get back to liking just Ben and no one would ever need to know. But that didn't happen. Then dad told me to tell you but mom told me to be smart and telling you would not be smart so I just got more stressed and popped and normally i would go surfing but this stupid hip and foot so I drank. But anyways if I had another dream about you I'm sure it would have just added to the stress.”

“So you don't plan on telling Ben?” He asked as he flipped through the pictures.

“Undecided. I mean I wasn't going to at first to see if it would pass, but then I noticed last time we hung out alone I didn't feel like I liked him as much and that he should know regardless of my weird dream and liking you. But I also have selfish reasons that I want to stay like I like spending time with you and want to just wait it out since there's only a few girls left. And with rationalizing it seems easier to not tell him since it's not like there's a high probability he'd like me best anyways. So I could just show slight disinterest so I stay as long as natural but still get time to hang out as friends with you. But ethics and math and thinking. Now I want more alcohol.”

Wyatt’s ears got red as I spoke. “Alright... “ He said and shook his head, “I mean-- about the staying, not the alcohol.” He clarified. I heard him sigh then he spoke up again, “There's something else you can do if you don't want to think too much though.” He said and offered a hand to me.

I took his hand and sat up leaning on him a bit as I wasn’t the best at balancing in my current state, “Die?” I asked genuinely not knowing what he could mean.

He gave me a flat look, “Shut up.” As we walked towards the balcony.

“It’s my honest best guess.”

He let go of me for a moment to grab his camera, then came back and held my arm to help me stay balanced and we went outside on his balcony, “We can’t go to the beach but it’s the next best thing.” He said which made me smile. Either we had similar coping mechanisms to stress and liked being by the beach or he was actually considering me as a person and trying to help.

I chuckled and plopped down on the ground of the balcony, you could still see the shore and dangle your legs off the edge, “Yeah drinking and the beach are a bad combination. Plus it's what? Almost two am you said? I love the beach, don't you? It's interesting because there's just so much we don't know about it, and thrilling because you have no idea what's around you but somehow we as people always feel safe in it. Plus the sounds of the waves are just so steady that it could just put you to sleep. Not to mention the way that it connects us all. Doesn't matter which country you're from or in, if you're in the ocean you're in the same mass as everyone else in the world. It's just invigorating.” I said rambling on a bit I gazed out and watched as the black blobs that I knew to be waves gently swayed back and forth from the beach. I love the ocean at night.

I closed my eyes for a moment thinking about the night before I applied for the selection. The night I went out surfing and decided that there was no point in my applying. Nothing was void in my life so I shouldn’t do anything to risk derailing it. It was my mom talking in me. I hadn’t known what I was missing so I evaluated the risks poorly. Being with Wyatt and the relationship friendship or otherwise I was building with him was worth leaving home for a bit.

“You get really deep when you’re drunk... “ He replied. “We like the sound of waves because it’s a ‘non-threat’ sound. It fools your brain into thinking it should be calm because there’s no imminent danger.” He then added.

I turned back to look at him after he said that, “You're a genius.” I said before laying down on the floor of the balcony, my eyes needing a break as my head spun from the alcohol. Though, it’s silly that waves would tell us that when there’s all kinda of dangerous animals in the ocean, not to mention the waves themselves can kill.

“You know what animal I feel bad for?” I prompted.

He was taking a picture of the sea as he replied, “Porcupines?” What? No?

“No? Should I feel bad for porcupines? What's bad with them? I feel bad for sharks. They don't even want to eat people they hate how we taste! they just don't know what we are and their mouths are too big so when they try to figure it out they end up being vilified. We examine things all the time yet they are seen as evil! It's not fair!”

He raised an eyebrow at me, “That's a really bad comparison. But I said porcupines because they can't be hugged.” He said before placing a hand on his chest dramatically and making a deeply troubled face, “It's so sad.” He then paused and looked to no one behind his shoulder and added, “Alexa play despacito.”

I then burst out into laughter at both his meme and a pun that came to my head, “No no no! If you get like a space suite- suu- suit you could hug them! You just have to be careful! Wait- are they sad because they're.....POOR-CUPINES?!” I kept laughing at my own horrible joke.

He sighed and quickly gave me a glance, “You're truly awful.”

I chuckled at his reply and was about to insult him back before I caught myself. “I know. Hey, while I'm drunk and not a prideful moron I should apologize to you sincerely for all of the mean things I say to you as a defense. Like calling you a stupid mcstupid head. You're not a stupid mcstupid head.” I said. Wow. A real apology. My dad would probably cry from joy.

“Eh, maybe just a tad, but I appreciate the apology.” He replied with a small smile. We then sat in silence again and just rested listening to the sounds of the world.

I took a deep breath in as I closed my eyes for a moment. This felt right. Sitting with Wyatt and just thinking and being together. No words passed for a moment sandwiched between our small bits of banter and conversation.

“So this Jonathan never even showed interest in you? I thought cheerleaders were popular.” He asked. I had to hold back from grinning at the question. Oh, so he does care about my past romances?

I then took a deep breath in before explaining since there were a lot of knots and background reasons to put out for him to best understand, “Cheerleaders are popular but I didn't have the general cheerleader personality like Emma and Nina. They did much better with the boys than me. Plus Jon was a total nerd. His favourite class was English because he liked the books. Emma knew him better than though since they had math and english together and I'd just watch from afar she said he liked me at least enough that he would say yes if I asked him out but he never talked to me. Then I was too nervous to ever talk to him and Nina swooped in for vengeance since she knew I liked him and he's a two. She wants to be a model but shes a three. Not a upper class three like me either. My dad heard gossip about her in the biweekly mom's book club, so I'm not sure if its true at all, but they had heard she didn't live with anyone and the house she stayed in wasnt owned she was just squatting. It would make sense because she rarely invited us over and I know she didnt live with her biological parents. She told me her mom killed herself and her dad turned into an alcoholic so she was removed, but then shouldn't she have had a foster family? I never saw them at least. But anyways her foster parent or parents were threes so she got assigned a three caste. Not a model caste so Jonathan was a good person for her to leech to. I don't know why Jonathan is with her. Emma doesn't either she keeps trying to find out though.” I hope she does. I don’t know Jon too well, but just from human being to human being I wouldn’t want anyone to be stuck with that bitch.

“I did let him borrow a pencil once though. That was some real steamy action.” I added sarcastically. I wondered for a moment about Wyatt’s past with romance. Maybe it would come up later, maybe not. It would probably be too much to ask in addition to my big splur of an explanation. So I suppose I’ll just have to wait.

He laughed at my second comment, “An awkward, nerdy jock. Who would've thought.” He replied then thought for a moment, I was curious to know what he would say but quickly found out, “Not to judge Johnny boy or anything, but if he was bold enough to ask for a pencil he should've asked you out instead of waiting for you to do it. He missed his chance.” I smirked a bit at the name Johnny boy but tried to focus.

“Yeah I wonder why he didn't if he liked me. Probably Emma was just lying to encourage me. It wouldn't be out of character for her to do that. Or maybe he just wanted me for my pencils. And thank you I truly am a rare thing. I think Emma was always annoyed that I was more popular than her. Not with boys but people generally attracted towards me. It wasn't my fault though I'm just too awesome.” I replied with a smirk showing of my charm of humility.

“And let's not forget clearly humble.” He replied.

“Highly humble. Like if there is a human form of humble it would be me. I'm just that darn good.” I grinned at the adjective then got curious. I wonder if there's a way I can find out more of Wyatt thinks of me, “Let’s play a game.” I suggested.

“Like what?” He asked warily.

I sat up and faced him, “Okay so I haven't played this since elementary school but it was fun to me then. So it's super easy, I remembered it because of calling myself so many adjectives. But basically you have to come up with an adjective that fits each letter of another person's name and personality. Such as right now I would say wary for the W in Wyatt.” I said giving an example.

He scoffed a laugh, “For once I benefit from having a weird letter combination on my name. I'll go with gleeful.” I had a rather gleeful grin grace my face as he complied to play.

“I didn't even think of that. Y hmmmm.. Yyyyyyy…” YEET? Yeazy? What does that even mean? I spoke before I even thought, “Yummy!” I said then went bright red myself, “because you're attractive. It's the best I can think of.” I mumbled pretty embarrassed at my own word choice.

His face went red as well as he scooted away from me in panic, “I'll pretend that's just you being drunk and say absurd for A.” I chuckled at that. Well I really didn’t have a filter when I was this drunk.

“It is just me being drunk. Though you are attractive and there are very few Y adjectives I would normally never call you yummy. A, Affable.”

‘Interesting.” He said and took a moment to think but then quickly said, “Bold.”

“Hah I'm gonna run out before you. I'll have to go with your middle name then. What is it? And T for tall.” I asked planning ahead.

He chuckled, “Christopher. R for-” He then paused to dramatically wave a hand in the air, “-ravishing.” I wanted to comment on the fact that he just called me ravishing but instead my attention had to be distracted by the middle name.

“Your middle name is Christopher? I forgot you royal people like to pass on names like that. I think it’d be weird to give me kid my name as their middle. Alright last T. Hmmm tenacious.”

He nodded, “I thought you knew by now that I was a junior.”

“I did not. It hasn't come up. Well my middle names are funny too. My parents went with Rose Marie. Get it. like Rosemary. Rosemary was my grandmothers name so it’s supposed to be a tribute without being weird because rosemary is a weird name.” I said explaining my two middle names. Thankfully, they didn’t make it my first and it was my grandmother so thats not as weird as my dad or I guess in my case it would be my mom.

“So they decided not to be weird by naming you Rosemary, and instead made you Gabriella Rose Marie Patterson.” He then seemed to notice something, “You have more names than me,” He said all smug like. At first I was confused why then it occured to me I had just called him being a junior stuffy and having a long name was pretty stuffy itself.

I then slightly shoved him, “Shut up. At least mine isn't a copy of my parents name. Its my grandmother so that makes it more okay and its slightly changed. Thank goodness they didn't name me Rosemary. I don't know how I would have lived with that. Maybe I could go by Rose.” I wrinkled my nose at the sound of my name and shook my head. Rose was for sure a hard no.

Wyatt wrinkled his nose as well, “The girl that kissed Ben at the bar was named Rosie.”

“Ew. Yikes no. What about Mary then?” I asked and pressed my lips thinly together as I considered the name, “No for me. I think id just have to go by a whole new name had they done that to me.”

He thought for a moment refusing to give up, “Oh, I know. Rory. RO-sie and ma-RY.”

“Thats a boys name, isnt it? Like on The Office?” I asked.

He blinked, “I got it from a show Layla watched called Gilmore Girls. It was a nickname for this girl named Lorelai, but I never really understood the reason.”

I scoffed a laugh, “What kinda a name is Lorelai? I don't understand parents sometimes.” Though, realistically I’d be probably naming my own kid after a meme. Jarden Whaddup _______. My son.

Wyatt raised an eyebrow seeming fairly amused. Why? What had I done wrong? “Your etiquette teacher is named Lorelai with a spelling variation.” Oh crap.

“Can you tell I don't pay attention during those classes?” I asked rhetorically.

He jokingly gave a loud sigh, “You are a disappointment with napkins.”

HEY! “Shut up. You're a disappointment with I don't know...um..fuck...you're a disappointment with something”

He gave a brief chuckle, “Oh, of that I’m sure.”

I rolled my eyes, “God you're so stupid that's not how you're supposed to respond to insults. You don't just agree you moron.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt replied with a smile then decided to be a smart Aleck, “Very compelling advice as you insult me again.”

“Well you didn't accept being a moron at least. Are you an idiot sandwich?” I asked. Since he did accept being called a disappointment, but he hadn’t agreed to the moron insult.  

“Well, moron, stupid and idiot are kind of synonyms, chef Ramsay.” I already knew that, that wasn’t my question.

“Thanks. But do you think you're an idiot?” I asked deciding to clarify more.

“I’ve been an idiot once or twice, but I like to think it’s not my usual.” He answered.

“Good.” I said then pat him on the back. We talked for a bit longer about my total and complete perfection

“Impressive. Which by the way happens to be a word that perfectly fits with i.” He said about my total confidence in my perfection.

I chuckled, “Oh yeah I forgot about the name. I'm on your middle name now, right? Because Wary, Yummy, Affable, Tall, and tenacious. So C…Chivalrous.”

“Really? I thought I made the air foul.”

“Only when you watch me try to open napkins. Then it's like suffocatingly foul.”

His eyes narrowed as he focused on the next word. He chewed the inside of his cheek as he seemed to be deeply considering what he would say next, “Enlivening.”

He clicked his tongue, “I had ideas, I just wanted to use something better.”

“I suppose that could be true. A in Wyatt took me awhile because I wanted something harder than adorable.” I replied not thinking too much about the fact that I indirectly had called him adorable until he cleared his throat.

“Well, I wanted something more meaningful than empathetic.”

I scoffed a laugh, “Empathetic wouldn't even be accurate. I'm very me focused. Otherwise I wouldn't have come to your room in the middle of the night I would have thought "huh, he's probably asleep. I shouldn't wake him"

“Um…” He said as clearly hadn’t thought of that. “You still seem like the type of person that at least tries to understand how someone else feels occasionally though.”

I chuckled, “Well at least I may try too when I'm not near blackout drunk.”

“So not the most empathetic, but it's something. Either way, L is lighthearted.”

“R for reliable. At least when you want to ask someone to entertain your little sister. Reliable there.” I referenced him playing with Ellie and letting her use his camera.

He nodded, “And L again for loyal. With your family. It's pretty clear who's most important.” He replied which made me smile. I was happy to know he had gotten to know me enough to notice how important my family is to me.

I chuckled, “You're right there. It's honestly the reason I'll never be a surfer. I like to say it's just because I don't want to deal with fighting my mother because she disapproves. But I was around with Riley told mom she was marrying a five. It wasn't pretty. I'm not going to put Eliana or Mae through that. Did I tell you I got an idea for an occupation I might be able to settle for?”

“Marine biologist?” WOW THAT'S AN IMPRESSIVE GUESS.

“So I must have told you before. That was underconsideration yes, but shark tagging and studying sharks specifically would be fun. It wouldn't be as great as staying home and surfing and I'm not really a fan of travel and being away from my family but it gets me on the ocean and studying something thrilling. Plus a lot of its action so I don't have to use too much of my head for the tagging part.”

“You didn't say it, but talking about how much there is to explore about the ocean kind of gave you away... you actually want to study sharks though?” He replied. I suppose that was kinda a give away.

“Yes. They're interesting and wild. My dad made a good way of explaining my cowardness earlier that put the idea in my head. he said "you're brave on the outside enough that you would try to swim with a shark but so much of a coward that you'd rather argue with people and taunt them then let them see you emotionally open." I then gave a slight chuckle.

“Guess that does not apply when I'm drunk though.” I added before holding up a quick thumb up.

“But they're cute and they get a bad rep. I don't know too much about them but learning more could be fun. At least more so than being a lawyer,” I wrinkled my nose at the thought of being stuck with a load of long and boring paperwork.

“Then again there are drawbacks. I do think exploring is fun but I dislike the idea of travel. Even coming here was scary to me and it's only like an hour and a half away from my home. But still it's worth consideration.” I weighed the pros and cons. No job was perfect for me. I would just have to compromise like I had been raised to. But I’d still like to know the weight of the cons to determine if the compromise is worth it.

“There’s not enough sharks to study in the Angeles shore? That does sound like a tragedy.” He said and looked off to the shore.

“But.. a lot of people are scared to be, uh, emotionally open. So you’re not alone.”

“The problem there isn't the number of sharks, it's that studying sharks normally means following their travel patterns to understand them which is why they get tagged so you can help keep track. Though, realistically I'd be too much of a wuss and should just read books about them instead if I'm curious.” I further thought aloud then slightly huffed since the more I thought about it the more it seemed like a bad choice.

“And at least to me seems like other can be emotionally open enough to at least stay level headed and just not be like verbal about their emotions as opposed to me who decides attack is the best way to handle is and mocks people. To be fair you're very easy to mock. You're good at coming up with comebacks though, so I for Intelligent.” I replied and quickly changed the topic back to the game. I wasn’t really a fan of talking about my flaws, as shocking as that may seem.

He chuckled at my detailed explanation, “An honor to hear you to say that—even if you’ve also called me a moron tonight.”

“Please, over half of what I are are meaningless insults. You can't really take any of them to heart. Except for the dork ones. Those are true.”

“I kind of want to argue back, but I’m not sure how.”

“You can't because it's true. You're a big ol'dork. Just like I'm a big ol'nerd. We're both losers.” I said and put a thumb up.

He awkwardly smiled at me before putting my hand down, “Thanks.” He said before he just made eye contact. Is he thinking? Is there something on my face? Do I just look really bad right now? I heard moonlight was supposed to make people prettier? Fuck-fuck-fuck why is he staring at me? I flushed and looked away myself.

He cleared his throat and spoke up again, “Finally your first name is over. A for amusing.” Oh no such a long name 9 letters, oh the pain.

“But hey I still need to finish Christopher otherwise your middle name is just Chri. So I suppose you have to do Rose Marie now? Or just we need to discuss what to do.” I suggested since we really couldn’t progress without discussion.

“Wyatt Chri Schreave has a nice ring to it, but alright.” He paused then did a dramatic host voice, “Here comes the lightning round!” He said and acted like he had a microphone which he pointed at me.

I chuckled at his playful behavior before responding, “Alright. S for sarcastic. So fast, so speedy, like sonic.” I joked.

Wyatt however, was no longer playing, “R for rude.”

I got flustered and decided to make him suffer just the same and had to hold back from an evil grin as I knew just the way to, “It's not my fault that I'm rude. If you hadn't seduced me than I wouldn't be so defensive then I.E rude.”

Wyatt’s face quickly flushed giving me my revenge, “I DIDN'T SEDUCE ANYONE.”

“YOU SEDUCED ME WITH YOUR VASE HIDING, AND EYEBROW RAISING, IT WAS A SEDUCTION TACTIC!” I defended trying to play along but broke out into laughter unable to keep up my defensive act, “I'm sorry, I'm kidding, I don't victim blame.” I apologized through my laughter.

For his vengeance he decided to snap a picture of me without my consent as I laughed. Drunk or not I didn’t like pictures being taken of me. “NO! THAT'S SO RUDE.”

He then turned the camera to show me the picture. I didn’t look horrible, “I think it's nice.”

I pursed my lips as I thought deeply for a moment over if I should let this go or not. I grumbled as I decided, “Fine you can keep it but only because I look not horrible for once in it.”

He laughed then took another photo of the view in front of us, “You look not horrible in all the pictures I got of you at the library.”

“That would honestly surprised me. Considering I look bad in like all pictures. I'm pretty sure that's why Emma bribed me to apply for this too so there would be someone for sure with a worse picture than her.” He then looked at the photo and seemed unsatisfied with it. Great your very presence while he took it ruined his picture Gabby. Your powers have surpassed needing to even be in the photo.

“That would honestly surprised me. Considering I look bad in like all pictures. I'm pretty sure that's why Emma bribed me to apply for this too so there would be someone for sure with a worse picture than her.”

“Your application had a nice picture.” He replied. I wonder if Ben gushed to him about the applications before we got here. Oh wow he probably read that I had a special skill for falling down and destroying things. I mean I didn’t know I was going to be picked. Over half of my application was a shit post I had scribbled in the car with Emma while hoping she didn’t kill us both.

“Maybe you looked slightly uncertain, but that was it.” He added.

“Lmao I was debating if I wanted a bagel or an omelette.” I then chuckled, “twas paid for.”

“Alright. You’re also O for original.”

“Um, it was my turn you're rude.” I then put a finger up to his lips to guarantee he wouldn’t take my turn again. “so T for talented and O for odd.”

He then put my hand down with my wrist and amped up to battle like this was the elementary school spelling bee. “S for sassy, E for enthusiastic.”

I scooted closer being sucked in by the intensity, “P for Passionate, H for honest, and uh-” I stammered as my brain with blank for E words, “-E for Eponymous.”

He opened his mouth to reply but then frowned, “Epo-what now?”

I chuckled evilly like. Hah. Hah. HAH. “I'm smarter than you. It means named after someone. I know because when my dad first told me I was named after Rosemary he called me eponymous.”

“Well then, M for maverick, A for athletic, R for Resilient, I for ingenuitive and E for... easygoing.” He said then got a smug look, “I win Gabriella Rose Marie.” This isn’t even supposed to be a contest but I can’t let him think he’s won anything.

“R for Red to finish Christopher then S is sassy, c is charismatic, H is handsome, R is realist, E is earnest, A is argumentative, V is veracious, and E is elegant. There I win now Wyatt Christopher Schreave. Full name done! Mic drop!”

He was shook for a moment but then snapped back into it, “You can't reuse my sassy! And your name is longer than mine!”

I counted on my fingers for a moment to double check his work, “Fine then I just need three more. Replace the S with S for Scary. Then I can use the junior, JR. J for Jazzy, R for rambunctious, and the P in the period(.) for prominent!” I said taking advantage of his junior status.

“REAL MATURE”

“HAHAH I WIN NOW LOSER!” I cheered before it suddenly started to sprinkle which put an end to my haughty victory and Wyatt’s fuming rage at losing like a sourpuss.

“Guess we have to go back inside.” He mumbled. I really liked the rain but it would probably be better we not risk illness. It’d be weird to explain when I was outside in the rain if I did get sick.

“Bye bye rain!” I cheered before trying to push myself back up from my seat on the ground swaying a bit at the dizzy world welcomed me back.  Wyatt stood up first though and offered a hand to me. I took it gladly and leaned on him a bit.

I looked up at him for a moment, he was flustered, probably because I had my body leaning on him, “Oh yeah wyatt, I have a serious question.” I started.

He replied without looking down at me as he took us in, “What's that?”

“Do you think I could beat you in an arm wrestle? I mean i'm pretty strong. I did tennis and basketball. That helps. My legs are better than me-” hiccup, “-arms, but still.”

He laughed a bit, “I think my arms are stronger than yours.”

“I don't think so. Why would they be? Do you work out?” I asked. Or maybe idk Gabby, because you’re a 5’1 female so even if you work out as much as Wyatt you physically can’t be as strong as him because of body mass?

“We’re not there yet in our friendship Gabriella.” He joked but then raised an eyebrow, “Do I really look that lazy? I mean, I’m not the strongest guy out there but that’s just hurting my ego.” I felt a bit bad. He was probably joking and I mean I had a good reason for thinking I might be stronger than him, I’m a pretty freaking athletic person. I work out a lot. So it’s not like I was comparing him to say a bum.

“Sorry, your suits don't show off too much if there is any muscle and you just don't strike me as a gym type of person.” I said and plopped down on the bed. I was still holding onto his hand from earlier so I quickly grabbed the other and tried to pull him onto the bed to test it to see if I really were stronger than him since. I didn’t get too far though and only resulted in him bending forward a bit.

“What are you doing?” He asked.

“Well you weren't going to tell me so I thought, may as well just try.” I replied with my drunken logic. I let go of his hands and laid back down in the bed, “Worth a shot.” I sighed.

“I want more winnnneeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” I complained as I rolled in his bed.

He grumbled something before he went to put his camera back, “You’re not drinking more.”

I quickly felt more and more drowsy and his bed smelled so nice so I grabbed his covers and decided to let myself go to sleep, “My bed now. Goodnight.”

THE NEXT MORNING

I shot up in bed in an unfamiliar room. I quickly looked around and saw Wyatt sleeping on a beanie bag and pictures. I much be in Wyatts room. I exhaled in relief. OH GOD I’M IN WYATTS ROOM! What if someone sees me? What if someone saw me come here? It had to be late last I remember I was watching twilight? OH GOD WHAT IF I TOLD HIM I LIKE HIM.  

I quickly got up and crouched down next to Wyatt on the bean bag. I gently poked his arm, “Hey Wyatt?” I said softly. He didn’t wake so I knew I would need more dirastic measures. I leaned in close right next to his ear. “WYATT!!” I yelled then regretted right away as a sharp pain kicked me in the head. Hangover, “Oh-FUCK!” I yelled which just made me hurt more as Wyatt let out a yelp and fell out of the bean bag.

He was incredibly red in the face, why? Was it embarrassing to wake up? “What's wrong with you?” He asked me.

“You didn't wake up the first time! I had to try more drastic methods!” I yelled before I felt the hangover again and put a hand on my head. I then took a deep breath in, “I have no idea why I came her last night or I drank way too much so quick question….” I paused trying to think of a non obvious way to ask, “.....did I tell you anything like embarrassing like about a slip'n slide made of sauce, or the time I ate a lemon whole on accident? Also your maids will probably be in soon which is why i woke you and it'd look weird if they found you on a beanie.”

He stared up at me completely stunned, “slip’n—” He paused. “You don’t remember anything from last night?”

I thought for a moment and tried to remember, “Twilight. I was watching twilight. Now I'm here-” I shrugged, “-I really drank too much-- Stress from family stuff.”

“No doubt, no doubt. No embarrassing childhood stories were brought up, don’t worry.” He said and looked up at me quickly before looking away again. OH NO DID I DROOL? DO I HAVE DROOL ON MY FACE?

“Um, so,” He said and stood up quickly, “You better head back before it's too late.”

I chuckled, “Oh yeah, it'd be difficult to explain why I wasn't in my room or why I'm in here if either of our maids get there before us.” I then looked around for my flats from last night slipped them on then made my way to the door, “See you at breakfast. Good look controlling the foul air.” I said smiling contently proud that I had controlled my tongue while drunk last night. Maybe I wasn’t horrible at keeping secrets while drunk. I had avoided it because of that but maybe last night was proof that I have enough self control to drink like a normal adult. I then gave him a quick wave and headed back to my room.

[ivyfics]

With me - Chap 2

They’ve been here a while. Tetsurou says ‘we’ because—even if Blondie over there isn’t really aware of it—they are both in the room and involved in the same activity, so technically they’re hanging out. As uncaring as he might seem, All Leg has gone through maybe a third of his clothes trying to pick an outfit for what Tetsurou assumes is his first day of college.

Read on AO3

Pairing: KuroTsuki Rating: M Chaps: 2/? (May change in the future) Additional Tags: Ghost!Kuroo, Haunted!Tsukishima, Tiniest bit of crack, Future angst

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“You’re blonde and pale, can you please steer away from anything other than mustard? Yellow is the ugliest color, I swear,” Tetsurou huffs. Blond Beam stands in front of his open closet with a hand on his hip, the other holding a hanger. “You’ll never make friends wearing that color. This is why you’re a loner.”

They’ve been here a while. Tetsurou says ‘we’ because—even if Blondie over there isn’t really aware of it—they are both in the room and involved in the same activity, so technically they’re hanging out. As uncaring as he might seem, All Leg has gone through maybe a third of his clothes trying to pick an outfit for what Tetsurou assumes is his first day of college.

He does so neatly, pulling out and laying them out on the bed along with black denim and socks that have turtles on them.

Turtle socks.

Turtle. Socks.

It took Tetsurou a while to move past that in particular. He wants to wear turtle socks.

The latest item Legolas pulls out is this yellow flannel, and out of all the things that anyone in any corner of the universe should wear, yellow flannel is not it. “People who wear yellow are probably sociopaths or psychopaths or whatever is it that murder people, and you know why? Because they wear yellow.”

Yellow Monster glares at the shirt with intensity before sighing and putting it back. Tetsurou applauds. “Seen the error of your ways? The universe thanks you.”

Thranduil yanks a grey sweater and uses his pointy elbows to jam it on. Denim comes next, along with those turtle socks—and god, Tetsurou is going to have to find a way to steal them and wear those socks on his ghost feet—before the phone laying on the bed lights up in alarm.

Slenderman goes to stand in front of the bathroom mirror, Tetsurou trailing after him. He fidgets with his clothes, straightening non-existing wrinkles. “Nervous, huh? You’re hot enough, you’ll be fine.”

Chocobo moves on to fiddle with his hair, face going pink with agitation until he’s interrupted by a second alarm coming from the bedroom. Skinny Marilyn Monroe ( and that’s a reach so maybe it’s time Tetsurou quits the nicknames. He doesn’t need them anymore, so it’s time to say goodbye) makes a beeline for his boots by the foot the bed before marching down the living room, grabbing his bag along the way.

He’s already had breakfast, and double checked that the bag has everything he needs. Tsukki is an early riser which is nice, it means Tetsurou is left alone to entertain himself less. When he reaches for the doorknob Tetsurou settles on the couch, television cracking to life. “Have a nice day, don’t be a creep and sit in the back alone without talking to anyone and become that kid with no friends that no one would notice if they went missing!”

The door slams behind him.

“They grow up so fast,” Tetsurou mutters, wiping an imaginary tear.

It’s around mid-morning and Tetsurou is bored out of his mind. A lot of being dead is floating around doing nothing, waiting for things to happen. He knows he’s hit a new low when Maurice from the apartment downstairs starts his regular shower show, belting out show tunes and pop hits that go above and beyond the hiss of the shower and whatever the walls in the building are made of, and Tetsurou sighs in content that something is happening.

Perched on the window, there’s nothing but an overcast sky and Maurice’s janky voice filtering in. He’ll go on singing for at least the next hour, way past when the shower’s been shut off, or until the old lady from across the hall yells at him to shut up.

Everything playing on in the t.v is a rerun Tetsurou has seen at least thrice, so he sits there, making the curtain sway with a swing of his finger.

He lasts an hour before he has to do something. Anything. The Old Lady from Across the Hall—Tetsurou doesn’t know her name, the only reason he knows Maurice is named Maurice is because of the lady yelling it at him every other day, and while he could try and find out, leaving the apartment leaves him feeling strange and staticky like his tongue is made out of vibrating white noise—shut the concerto down twenty minutes in, leaving Tetsurou bereft of any entertainment.

He doesn’t know when Tsukki will return but he hopes it’s soon. Maybe Tetsurou can try to scare him again and redeem himself for the previous six times it hasn’t worked.

Living with Tsukki is nice. That’s what Tetsurou calls him. Tsukishima seems a little too distant now that they’re basically sharing an apartment, but Kei seems too informal when they haven’t had a proper conversation, y’know? Tetsurou sticks with Tsukki when his marvelous nicknaming skills fall short.

(Maybe his skills fall short more often than not but no one being around to see your fails and embarrassments is a perk of being not alive.)

It’s been a couple of weeks now, enough for him and Tetsurou to have established some sort of routine. Tsukki goes to class, loiters or whatever, comes back and keeps to himself until it’s time for dinner and the kitchen becomes his domain.

In the most superficial of ways, that boy does not belong in the same group as all the previous tenants. He’s organized and quiet. He likes to read. Two of the boxes were mostly books, now laying around the apartment against corners with the lack of a bookshelf.

He reads books bigger than Tetsurou’s head, putting them down faster and faster.

Keeps the apartment clean. Doesn’t let dishes pile up, takes out the trash on time. He cooks. Really cooks, chops and dices and does that fancy prep thing with a French name cooking shows always talk about. He’s the picture of a normal, level-headed dude.

At first glance.

What Tetsurou wants to know is who let this kid live by himself.

Who used to share a house with him and looked at him, fully knowing how his living habits are and said yeah, sure, go on.

The dude sees the t.v on after he shut everything off? Doesn’t blink.

Tetsurou forgets he’s not alone in the apartment because the dude is super quiet and maybe starts picking shit up and slamming it back down when he’s bored out of his mind? Doesn’t come to check what the noises are.

Walks in when Tetsurou is lifting shit in the air? Like nothing’s happening.

Leaves the door unlocked at night.

Doesn’t check that the windows are closed.

Goes to sleep with wet hair. Do you know how terrible that is? He could stretch or pull on the hair shaft and destroy those beautiful, blond locks with breakage and—

He forgets to turn on the heater until he wakes up at three in the morning, freezing to death.

Where is his head?

That boy is going to catch pneumonia and get fucking murdered.

Tetsurou gets his answer a couple of days later.

Tsukki is being weird. While he’s in no way a slob of any kind, and Tetsurou is eternally grateful about that, he’s not a neat freak either. There’s a healthy amount of cleaning and organizing going on in their apartment in general but today’s Tsukki gone off the rails. He’s been cleaning and dusting and moving stuff around all over for about an hour already, no sign of stopping in sight.

If the calendar Tsukki has taped to the wall by the window is right then today’s Sunday, the day of the Lord, and Tsukki spent the last 36 hours vegging out and reading this massive ass book until his alarm interrupted him early this morning. It’s what Tsukki does, he sets alarms for everything. Every little thing has an alarm, then two follow-ups.

There’s one for waking up, for when he has to shower, for when he has to leave. Tetsurou’s gotten pretty used to having some Marimba No.5 or whatever start playing in the background, shortly followed by Tsukki pacing.

The last alarm went off about thirty minutes ago but Tsukki paid it no mind, he kept moving and sweeping, and the windows—

He’s scrubbing their kitchen counter (again) with viciousness when the doorbell rings.

Tsukki responds to it the same way a dog perking his ears would, head snapping up to stare at the door with a tilted head. His glasses are askew and sliding down the bridge of his nose, Tsukki standing still. He tries pushing it back with his forearm since he’s wearing gloves, wet and sudsy from the soapy water he’s using to clean, but all he accomplishes is plastering a strand of his hair to his forehead and Tetsurou laughs. It bursts out of him, short and wheezing.

There’s just no explanation for whatever the hell is going on.

Tsukki dumps the sponge in the sink with a throw, gloves snapping off, and braces himself with a breath before heading to the door.

No sooner Tsukki opens it than he’s being crushed against a strangers chest. There’s a small oof from Tsukki but no attempt to break free of the embrace. Tetsurou is immediately hooked. He needs to know who this is. Its obvious Tsukki has been expecting them and the barrage of cleaning is finally explained.

Tetsurou floats over, hand on his chin, to take a closer look. There’s a Tsukishima in the doorway. So much is obvious by the height and frame, confirmed by blond locks the same shade as Tsukki’s. He hugs Tsukki with enthusiasm, hands encompassing him tightly. One of the hands on his back barely moves, laying a tad awkwardly and it takes Tetsurou a couple of seconds to recognize it as a prosthetic.

After one last squeeze, Tsukki pulls away softly.

The other Tsukishima is smiling and happy, hand curling around the top of Tsukki’s arm. “Kei! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, did you settle in okay?” His face falls minutely before he continues, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it, they sprung a late meeting with some investors that were visiting on us and I couldn’t slip out.”

“I told you it was alright already,” Tsukki rolls his eyes, stepping back. “Are you going to come in or are you planning on loitering around my entryway forever?”

“Shoot!” The other Tsukishima peels off with a laugh. They shuffle in, some of the tension that has been plaguing Tsukki's shoulders having melted in their embrace. It's the first time Tsukki's had anyone over in the short period of time he's been an official resident of the Ghostcrib™. Hell, it's the first time Tetsurou has seen him interact with something that's not made out of paper and ink.

Tsukki is a nerd that reads a lot is what he's trying to say.

The other Tsukishima takes off his coat and lays it on the back of the couch, then does that weird half-sit on the edge of it. He's taking a look around, eyes roaming over the still damp counter, the door to the bedroom, the window that's Tsukki's left open again. Weirdly, he frowns when he reaches the area where Tetsurou is floating.

Tetsurou slowly leans back, wary.

The moment doesn’t last long, brown eyes moving along with a tad of apprehension still in them and Tetsurou takes a deep metaphorical breath of relief. Some people are sensitive to things like Tetsurou. It’s happened before, mostly with people coming in to see the place when it’s in-between tenants. They walk in and start to look around, trying to figure out why the place feels off. Some take one step in and immediately back out, unnerved, but this is the first time he’s seen someone accurately pinpoint his location.

Good for the other Tsukishima, he has a good head on his shoulders unlike the clueless, oblivious mess Tsukki’s proven himself to be.

Older Tsukki’s eyes land on the pile of books stacked neatly in the corner and smiles, pleasant even when his eyes dart back to the stain on the wall next to Tetsurou every so often. Tsukki's been quiet the whole time, kind of zoning out and he's startled by Mr.Smiles voice when he speaks up. “Are you sure you’re done, is there anything I can help with?”

Tsukki rolls his eyes again. There’s a pattern here. “Aki, it’s been three weeks.”

Aki, huh? So this is Tsukki’s someone. He’s too young to be his father, so either a brother or a cousin of some sort.

Look at him, deducing shit. Tetsurou could be a detective if he wanted. And if he wasn’t dead.

Aki shakes his head, taking Tsukki’s antics at face value. “How has is it been, living on your own?”

“It’s been okay,” Tsukki shrugs.

Now it’s Tetsurou’s turn to laugh. “Sure, it’s been okay. Just fine. Leaving the door unlocked for anyone to break in and not noticing you’re sharing a living space with the literal undead. It must be nice to take things so easy,” Tetsurou mutters, eyebrows wiggling when Aki tries to sneak a glance in his direction again.

Aki nods. “That’s good. I can still ask for a transfer, you know. We could room together…”

“Absolutely not,” Tsukki straightens up, “stay exactly where you are.”

“Alright,” Akiteru laughs putting his up in a sign of peace. Is he always this peppy? “Are you ready?”At Tsukki’s blank stare he elaborates, “I’m taking you out to dinner.”

“But I was going to cook—”

“Kei, live a little. I couldn’t be here to help you move in so I’m buying you dinner to help ease my conscience.”

“Fine,” Tsukki relents, fakely put out. No one’s put out by free food, not even book-munching nerds. “Let me change into something else. I didn’t think we were going out.”

Tsukki trods over to the room, the door closing with a click.

The change is immediate.

Aki’s relaxed posture stiffens. He starts walking around the room, trying to figure it out. Tetsurou’s sorry, he really is. He doesn’t mean to make people uncomfortable. It’s funny as shit watching them walk with their head whipping around as if the chick from the ring is about to pop out at any second but he doesn’t mean to.

Aki seems like a nice enough guy, so Tetsurou is going to leave and hang in Tsukki’s room for a while. He’s not even started to float his ghostly behind to the bedroom when Aki is blocking his way, hands on his hip and staring at the curtain behind him. Tetsurou swerves to the side, eyes wide.

What the hell?

This has never happened before.

Aki waves his hand right next to Tetsurou’s arm, eyes narrowed. Extra brownie points for accuracy but Tetsurou would enjoy not being almost smacked. Humans touching him feels icky.

If he really wants to scare someone Tetsurou just runs right through them. It feels like garbage to him but both times he’s done it the person stands there, horrified and catatonic until something snaps them out of it and they run away.

Instead, he topples one of the books by the corner with force, the sharp thud when it falls catching Aki unaware and making him jump about a foot in the air.

It gets a grin out of him. At least one Tsukishima can be spooked.

Aki seems to be going for another try when Tsukki comes back in the room, looking sharp and effectively diffusing Aki’s attempts at playing ghostbuster. Tetsurou whistles, dropping whatshisface and that entire situation in favor of trailing after Going Out Tsukki. He’s wearing a navy crew neck sweater and cuffed up blue denim, topped by an olive pea coat and Tetsurou is here for it. “Oooh, you look good.”

Tsukki is more of a comfort dresser than whatever this is but Tetsurou is not going to fight it. Tsukki should dress like this always. “I wish I could style your hair,” Tetsurou sighs.

Smart Casual does have wonderful hair, and if Tetsurou could style those soft curls with a little bit of a pomade, maybe something sleek and a little to the side—

Hold that thought.

Tsukki’s wearing squirrel socks. Light green squirrel socks with fluffy tails and acorns. Tetsurou halts and points to them,“There are so many questions and so little answers.”

Tsukki takes a while to come back from his dinner date, but when he does Tetsurou manages to catch the end-tail of his and Aki’s conversation before Tsukki is carefully shutting the door on him and power walking to his room.

If Tetsurou could sleep, he’d be having a hard time getting some shut-eye right about now.

The night is quiet, rays of silver and blue lighting the room where Tsukki sleeps, feet tangled in the sheets. He kicks around in his sleep, surprisingly.

Before you judge him on being a creepazoid and looking at Tsukki sleeping, Tetsurou would like to submit some evidence to the court of why he is not. He’s not sitting there in a corner watching Tsukki sleep and mumbling to himself like he’s the lead in a cold open of an SVU episode. Tetsurou’s restless, head going a mile an hour, and the soft sound of Tsukki snoring helps him think.

There’s something about Aki’s parting words earlier that week that keep throwing Tetsurou for a loop.

“Kei, there’s something weird about this place.”

“What do you mean weird?”

“I don’t know, I just feel iffy about it! I still think I should request that transfer.”

“Aki, don’t. We’ve been over this, you’re not transferring.”

“I don’t want you living here by yourself, or at all. Just think it over, okay?”

He—

He doesn't want Tsukki to move. Not yet.

Tsukki is the least annoying person to live in this apartment, and Tetsurou is including himself because oh boy , Tetsurou has probably always been a handful.

Not to get absolutely real for a second here but the reality of being a ghost is monotonously dull and sad at its worst. And boring. God, is it boring. Tetsurou would willingly watch paint dry some days.

Having someone new move-in is fun. You get to see what makes them tick, what they like to do in their spare time. How you act when you think no one is looking is the truest version of you, unafraid and free of expectations. Tetsurou’s seen the truest version of a bunch of people, and while Tsukki isn’t the most fun person around, he’s decent. Sometimes he starts to hum out of the blue, the soft sound filling the walls of the apartment and breaking that oppressive silence Tetsurou’s come to accept as his reality.

He doesn’t immediately seek to shut off the strange voices filtering in from the living room when Tetsurou’s tired of listening to his own head and makes the screen flicker on just because. Tsukki lets them run through the night and while that’s maybe not the best habit—or aiding his utility bill—it’s nice to room with someone who doesn’t mind.

Someone who doesn’t spook easy (or at all.)

Someone who’s a little careless.

Someone Tetsurou can exist around.

Tetsurou’s taken to picking up the slack.

It’s not the most genius plan or anything, but if Tsukki is a little more comfortable here, he won’t wanna move. Also, those tiny details drive Tetsurou crazy so it’s a win-win.

He closes windows at night, uncaring if they slam down because it’s not like Head in the Clouds over there is going to check what the noise is anyway. Turns on the heater at night. Locks the door, randomly puts a towel on the bed when Tsukki is taking a shower before bed.

He’s got it down.

It becomes so normal that he starts not waiting until Tsukki is out of the room. Sees him pull out a hoodie and turns on the heating. Closes the window when Tsukki is reading on the beat-up couch and Tetsurou sees him shiver.

Another week passes. Two.

It’s almost the end of month three when it hits him. He got a teensy bit distracted by his novela and started floating a towel on the bed with Tsukki already sitting there.

He’s making a towel float. In plain sight.

Tsukki’s playing on his phone, rivulets of water dripping down his neck and staining the collar of the t-shirt he wears a darker shade of green, but even the most clueless person on the planet would notice if a towel with pink flowers suddenly happens to appear out of thin air.

Tetsurou hasn’t been discreet.

Tsukki probably knows the place is haunted.

No matter how oblivious a person might be, there’s no other way to interpret the situation.

This is it. All or nothing.

Tetsurou leaves the towel on Tsukki’s bent knees slowly and does nothing else. He stands by the end of the bed with (an emotional) baited breath. This could backfire in the worst ways and just like that Tetsurou’s days of peace will be gone—

“Thanks.”

Tetsurou chokes on nothing. Tsukki’s grabbed the towel and is now rubbing it on his hair in small circles which is so so bad for it, you have to pat—no matter that, Tsukki thanked him.

He.

He’s still in the same position on the bed, face buried on his phone, but Tetsurou did not imagine that. Tsukki thanked him.

No one’s ever thanked him for doing ghost things before. They freak out or look around to see if it’s a prank but he’s never been thanked. Granted, Tetsurou hasn’t ever used his spooky powers for useful things before, but that’s not the point.

Tetsurou’s chest swells, warm and dopey and good, syrupy giddiness holding him to rock on the spot where he hovers. He can’t remember the last time someone addressed him.

“You’re welcome.”

Things change after that.

Tetsurou’s presence, as open as it was before, becomes exceedingly obvious. He tries to tone it down a little, lest Tsukki freaks out after the fact, but life is good right now.

Things carry on the same in the way that Tsukki doesn’t care. Tetsurou’s free to do as he pleases without having to deal with a bunch of shrieking morons, calls to Karen, and that one time someone brought an exorcist to try and kick him out.

It was some dude baked out of his mind chanting some weird thing or the other scamming the one tenant out of fifty bucks so Tetsurou was all clear on that one, but what a waste of an afternoon.

“I can’t believe you even own those pants. Who has access to corduroy anymore? Next.”

Tetsurou floats upside down above the bed, Tsukki’s earbuds hovering with him by grace of his wiggling fingertips. Tsukki has study group today, or at least that what his phone said when Tetsurou looked.

They’re doing their usual bit, Tsukki trying to get dressed and Tetsurou stopping him from committing a fashion crime and melting someone’s eyeballs off. Sweatpants are off, Tsukki is in his underwear and Tetsurou keeps floating shirts away and towards him in a twisted version of dress-up.

The angle lets Tetsurou ogle Tsukki’s back, particularly that row of four moles just at the edge of his ribcage that’s kept Tetsurou’s attention since he floated up there. “I’ll give you seven million dollars if you have ever worn those pleather pants more than once. Outside. Where people can see you.”

Tsukki hangs his head in defeat when Tetsurou pulls another garment away from him. They come to an agreement, some black joggers—because Tetsurou can compromise— and a white shirt with a grey hoodie on top.

Tetsurou picks out the socks though, and the Pikachu ones are calling his name. Tsukki’s alarm goes off again, and Tetsurou glides across the living room to the door automatically. Tsukki grabs his stuff and stops by the shoe rack.

“Those shoes? With that outfit? No.” Tetsurou knocks the right pair into shins.

Ghosts don’t have a lot of base needs.

They don’t eat. They don’t breathe. Thirst is only of the metaphorical kind. Tetsurou doesn’t get horny. He gets restless. And bored. What do people do when they get bored?

They play with their bits.

It’s a slow build up. Tetsurou doesn’t do it often seeing as ghost climax is akin to setting an exposed wire on your tongue. It’s not the rapid firing of nerves that curls toes and jerks hips, nothing like that wave of pleasure that whites out vision and leaves you dumb and lax while you bask.

It’s energy vibrating, rapid explosions and waves, being electrocuted until you’re left phasing in and out of existence for a bit. Tetsurou is still not sure how he feels about it, but he does it anyway because it beats doing nothing and having his head replay that one Rihanna song Maurice was singing three days ago one more time.

Having some visual aid doesn’t help his case either.

Kei—Tetsurou calls him Kei now, seeing as they’ve had at least one conversation if by a conversation a ‘Thank you’ and ‘ You’re welcome ’ is accepted—is out of the shower and walking around half-naked. It’s his usual routine, Tsukki usually comes out of the bathroom fresh-faced and with a clean pair of undies on. Sometimes with socks (each and every pair more adorable than the last).

Tetsurou would be lying if he said that peek of skin every day didn’t intrigue him. That it didn’t make him curious. But, Tetsurou has boundaries and he’s not about to burst in on one of Tsukki’s showers so he can see how far the birthmark low on Tsukki hip extends.

Usually, that glimpse of skin isn’t enough to motivate him.

Today Tetsurou is restless. He’s bored.

Tsukki’s been out all week doing a thing or another so he’s been left to stew in the apartment all by himself with only Maurice and Federico for company, and then Kei forgets his underwear when he goes in to take a shower so Tetsurou gets enough to kick him into gear.

Kei is hot.

He really is, that’s fact.

Tetsurou has enough time to respectfully ogle him from where he’s flat against the wall above the closet and today is the day. Sticking a hand down his pants is odd. Clothes don’t feel like clothes, they feel like layers. Peeling back a thin sheet of the universe.

Tetsurou sends a quick apology Kei’s way for using him as part of the spank bank, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Tetsurou’s going to have some private alone time. Not that all time isn’t private alone time because, you know, he’s dea—

“You do know I can see you, right?” Tetsurou’s head whips up, and sure enough, there’s Tsukki staring not at his vicinity or whatever might be behind him, but right directly at him in nothing but his undies and baby blue cloud socks and Tetsurou can feel himself shrivel under the intensity of that glare.

Tsukki’s mouth twists. “You disgusting little man.”

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[le-sejour]

Just Like You, Only Sweeter

Words: 1976

Pairing: wouldn’t u like to know jk it’s Thomas Jefferson x Reader with a surprise

World: Modern AU

Warning: Sexy, sexy things in here mhm (not smut tho, but pretty suggestive), also profanity and actual dickbaggery, angst

A/N: Hey hey hey hey hey so on this episode of “shouldn’t be writing this because I have requests to fill but still wrote it anyway” So I’ve been listening to my old music playlist back in 2010-ish? and ya kno how teenagers are w their edgy music and #Relatable lyrics. This fic was the love child of listening to All American Rejects and Fall Out Boy. Points if you can guess which songs inspired these lmao

Thomas groaned in pleasure, his hands gripping your hips tightly as you peppered kisses down his jaw to his neck. God, you were beautiful. So, so beautiful.

“Who has to know?”

You murmured against his skin as you mounted him, your black-lined eyes half-lidded and the stink of alcohol unmistakably heavy on your breath.

He knew this was just a one-night stand. A rebound. And he was perfectly fine with that. Your ex, Alexander Hamilton, had actually grown a pair big enough to come crawling back to Eliza, the woman he cheated on, leaving you to rot in your head for weeks on end.

You had planned on sulking around your apartment watching Friends reruns and binging on ice cream. Thomas had suggested getting drinks.

“He told me he would make it right with me.” You had sobbed into your multicolored drink, tears smudging your mascara somewhat. Your dark-skinned companion tried not to stare too much, but found that he couldn’t help it. You were mesmerizing even when you looked like a blotchy raccoon. His heart clenched. “He said he envisioned a future with me! A family an-and kids!”

“Hamilton’s an idiot, [F/Name].” He murmured matter-of-factly, instinctively using his thumb to wipe your tears away. He felt her skin jump at the contact. “He had the most scintillating woman in New York City, and he let it go. It’s his loss.”

His breath hitched when you looked up at him through damp lashes, still managing to look enticing despite crying for over three hours. His mind went into overdrive, desperately trying to keep the trickle of feelings at bay.

He watched with controlled interest as you worried your bottom lip, his heart beat pounding loudly in his ears. He can’t allow himself to give in. It was better this way, he chanted in his head like a mantra.

But oh, how her eyes shined iridescent against the dark.

“Would you have done the same, Thomas?” You whispered, leaning into him ever so slightly. His control was hanging by a thread. “Would you have left me like he did?”

He stared into your eyes once more, losing himself in them as he all but gave in to his desires.

“Never.” He whispered, voice strained and thick with want.

You closed the gap between you two, pressing your lips hungrily against his. You needed the friction, the intimacy. You wanted to feel wanted. And when you reached completion late into the night, your head thrown back in bliss as his hands still gripped your hips tightly, you’d like to think you were.

You never saw him around in the weeks following your drunken tryst. It was as if he never existed. He wasn’t in his apartment, or his favorite bar, or the library. You even tried visiting his workplace, but all you got was his secretary telling you he had opted to work from home.

Oh.

The silent walk back to your apartment was filled with sniffling and attempts to choke back your sobs, going through your memories of that night.

Did you say anything wrong? Was the sex bad? He had seemed so eager to bed you, and the morning after was spent lazing around and cuddling his apartment. What did you do? What changed that night after you went home?

You tried to ignore the tightening in your chest as you reached the front steps of your apartment building, but there was only so much you could do to reign in your emotions. Collapsing onto the steps, you sobbed uncontrollably into your hands.

Why is this happening to you? Didn’t Thomas like you? Didn’t Alexander like you? Did anyone like you?

“[F/Name]?”

You looked up from your pathetic, curled position, tears still streaming down your cheeks. Your heart seemed to heal instantly as you recognized those head of curls.

“Thomas.”

Thomas Jefferson was not an emotionally intelligent man.

He was cunning, and crafty, and wise beyond his years. But you’d be damned to think he was, in any way, in complete control of anything that doesn’t involve his head.

After your pity romp, he was a mess. The moment you kissed him had opened the dam that held all the things he felt for you at bay. It flooded out into every kiss, every stroke, every breathy moan he made because of your ministrations. It seeped into everything he touched.

And he was terrified.

He wanted to be with you every second of every day so badly it hurt. He wanted to care for you, support you. Be the reason for your smiles and laughter. The need to be yours never used to be this intense. It was jarring.

So he left.

It was much easier to be your friend. He could occasionally flirt with you without consequence, and you could spill every thought and opinion to him when even Alexander had trouble wheedling it out of you. Nothing was complicated, nothing was at stake. You both worked better that way. It was better that way.

Wasn’t it?

A month had passed, then two, into his self-imposed isolation and he began to doubt himself. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he had let himself overthink your situation. But…

God, he was a jackass.

He had left you. You came to him in your hour of need and he took advantage of it. He left you for dead after being so intimate with you. You needed him, you were in pieces. And he left you.

You probably hated him. No, he was sure you hated him. With everything he’s done, he wouldn’t be surprised. He left you after explicitly saying he wouldn’t.

He’s definitely fucked up this time.

Grabbing his jacket, he made his way to the door. He didn’t know what he was going to do, or how to do it, he just knew he needed to make this right somehow.

You nervously picked at the assortment of flowers on your lap, your stomach churning with anticipation and nerves. Of course, you’ve practiced this whole thing plenty of times before. But actually being here, today, was definitely more than you bargained for.

“Hey,” You turned your head to acknowledge the voice, smiling slightly as you see the familiar face of James Madison. “It seems like almost everyone is here.”

The smile on your face was shaky at best, the anxiety in your eyes shining through. “Yeah? That’s-that’s good…”

James smiled at you reassuringly before stepping into the backseat with you. His warm presence enveloped the car, giving you a slight confidence boost. “You’re nervous.”

You laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

“It’s normal.” He answered, taking the bouquet from you before you pluck all the petals out. “What’s worrying you?”

“God,” Exhaling, you looked up, tears inexplicably welling in your eyes. “I don’t- This is insane. I never would have thought…”

The man beside you simply nodded in response, letting you have the moment to express yourself.

“Two years ago, I never would have imagined…” You trailed off, fanning your face in an attempt to blink back tears. “He’s everything I’ve hoped for and more, James. I-I’m scared that I’ll wake up and find myself on the front steps of my old apartment again…”

You were seated on a park bench, sun shining like a halo on you, as Thomas watched you laugh. Your hair fluttered gracefully as you threw your head back. He smiled, memorizing every curve and hollow of your face. He reveled in the fact that he was right. You were beautiful through and through.

His hand wandered slyly to your thigh, making you turn to him with an unreadable gaze. He smiled innocently, those pearly whites of his shining unabashedly. You rolled your eyes as your hands found his and laced your fingers together.

How could he have been that lucky?

He leaned over and whispered in your ear, causing you to turn red and shift in your seat. He pulled away to look at you, his eyes darkening with desire. Oh, how he wished to be the friction in those jeans you wore.

You leaned in to press a passionate kiss on his lips, your hands coming up to cradle his cheeks. He pulled you closer by the waist, nibbling on your bottom lip gently before separating.

With the grace of a cat, he pulled you up with him and brushed a stray lock of hair away from your face, murmuring how he wanted to get you home and in bed as soon as possible.

How could you have been this lucky?

James led you to the huge cathedral doors, your gown flowing easily around you, while the veil you wore drifted to and fro at every move you made.

“Are you ready, [F/Name]?” You looked up as a fresh pool of tears made its way to your eyes.

“Thank you, Jemmy… For everything.” You whispered, throwing your arms around him in a tight, tearful hug. He returned the hug just as fiercely, your head tucked under his chin.

“I would never leave you alone like that, [F/Name].” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion and an edge you couldn’t describe. “Now go, Mulligan is waiting to walk you down the aisle.”

Nodding, you reluctantly let go of the man you had quickly considered a best friend within the two years you’ve known each other for. Straightening your back, you walked through the cathedral doors, entering the small lobby just before the main hall.

“And [F/Name].” James called out, causing you to turn slightly while Hercules fussed with your gown. “Remember, this is real. It’s real, and you deserve this.”

You beamed at him, watery and emotional, before being led away.

James stared into the cathedral, watching you float down the aisle like a cloud. Your back was turned to him but he could feel the happiness radiating from you as you passed friends and family.

A few seconds later, without as much as a turn of his head, he called out a name that hasn’t crossed his lips for a while now.

“Thomas.”

Without missing a beat, a figure loomed behind the smaller man before taking his place beside him.

“James.”

The Virginian, like his companion, stared straight into the cathedral, watching you finally reach the man who had helped you pick up the pieces. The man he saw making you laugh that day at the park. The lucky bastard who now gets to spend his days with you, build a family with you, grow old with you. All the things Thomas could now only dream about.

“Gilbert will make her happy.” James said, as if hearing the other man’s thoughts. They always did have an unnerving knack for reading the other. Thomas rolled his eyes.

“He has the most scintillating woman in New York City. Of course he’ll make her happy. He’d be an idiot not to…”

The other man said nothing, merely coughing into his handkerchief as silence fell over the pair of them.

“You know why she’s taken such a liking to him, right?”

Thomas opted not to reply, instead choosing to watch you recite your vows. He knew you were beautiful even on a normal day, but today you were simply breathtaking, even from his perch by the large, ornate doors. What he wouldn’t do to be the man standing at the altar with you.

“You left a bad taste in her mouth, Thomas.” They continued to watch the wedding, watched as you exchanged rings, watched as the priest gave people like Thomas a chance to speak. “Gilbert… He’s just like you. Only, sweeter.”

Silence filled the air of the cathedral as they waited for anyone to protest the union.

Thomas finally turned to James, his eyes brimming with tears as a few already trailed down his cheeks.

“I know.”

[cinnaminsvga]

01 | ghost!hoseok

→ summary: Drabble series featuring Hoseok the Friendly Ghost. Based on this prompt: “You are depressed, and then become possessed by a very nice ghost. He works to improve your life.” → genre: Fluff, Slight Angst, Ghost!AU → words: 1.4K → a/n: Will edit this later! Enjoy my weird ghost!hoseok au I guess?

All in all, you suppose that having the Happiest Ghost in the World™ possessing your body had its perks. 

For starters, you are allowed to become the lazy motherfucker that you are truly meant to be. You can just close your eyes and let your ghost move you as he pleased and allow him to take control instead. In fact, all of your household chores have settled to the back of your mind because of this, and while your ghost has undoubtedly chastised you for that many times, he continues to do them for you regardless.

So really, the only major drawback from being possessed is that every time you want to do something else, you pretty much have no say in the matter.

“Hoseok, I know you’re trying to do this for my sake, but I don’t think wearing an all yellow ensemble is going to help me get over my depression,” you deadpan, your body already moving on its own accord. 

Your mouth suddenly moves without your consent, your voice sounding deeper than what anyone would expect a young woman to sound like. “Y/N, of course yellow clothes will help you get over your depression! It’s not called the happiest color for nothing!” 

The sun has barely risen up above the horizon, and while normally you’d still be dead asleep until noon, Hoseok had decided when he had first possessed you that the both of you were going to be early risers from now on. You can barely count the number of times you had suddenly found yourself standing in front of your kitchen, with an entire buffet laid out in front of you like a goddamn culinary masterpiece. You didn’t even know how to pour yourself a bowl of cereal sometimes, much less prepare a perfect eggs benedict.

To any outsider, you did not appear to be a victim of a possession at all. The only indicator that you were not in control of your own actions was that despite having your eyes closed, you were still efficiently preparing a cup of piping hot coffee for yourself.

“I swear, if I was any less mentally ill, I would be dragging my body over to the nearest exorcist right now.”

“Well, you aren’t any less mentally ill, so there’s nothing you can do!” Hoseok chirps back, and you don’t hide the groan that escapes you.

In all consideration, you can’t be too mad at what he made you wear. You have to admit that the yellow Gudetama onesie that he forced you to buy was comfy as fuck.

Despite your stubborn possessor (body roommate?), your arrangement with Hoseok was mostly a congenial one, if one could call a ghost possession that. You mostly let him do as he pleased, seeing as how he was really the only reason you even got out of bed every day. You no longer needed to think about taking care of yourself because Hoseok did that for you. Hell, he even fucking showered for you, which had been an amusing first few weeks for sure. (To say the least, Hoseok was a very hygienic person, at least when he had been alive. You, on the other hand... “Wait, you haven’t showered in three weeks? Oh fuck, does that mean I have to shower you too? Oh my god this is so fucking awkward—")

It was sort of like letting yourself go on autopilot, except that the installed artificial intelligence was an annoying, over excitable ghost who had decided that he was going to “improve” your depression by being an overbearing ghost mother hen.

Okay, so the overbearing part isn’t always true; Hoseok at least knows your limits. On most days, you both will stay at home either watching old reruns of Running Man on the TV or maybe rereading your favorite book for the nth time. Hoseok tries suggesting trips outside on your better days, when your depressive cloud isn’t as heavy and you at least have some energy to comb your hair by yourself. Those days, you always almost say yes.

Almost.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hm?"

"I was thinking of visiting the park today.” Hoseok says this with as much nonchalance as he can muster, but the thing about sharing one body is that you can sense his emotions as well. You notice how hesitant he is when he asks you, and you know exactly why. 

The last time he had forced you to leave your home was also the last time you had shut him out of your brain, something you had not been aware of being capable of at the time. It generally required a lot of energy—which was something you rarely had—but he knew that if he pushed you too hard, you would shut him out in an instant.

“I don’t know Hoseok, but today isn’t a very good day for me…” Your voice trails off because you know that it is a weak excuse. You know that your depression is pathetic, that you are pathetic. When had been the last time you had a “good day?” 

You know that he is only trying to help you in his weird ghostly way, but you also know that the moment you step outside your door, you’d want nothing more than to slip back under your covers and never resurface again.

It was moments like these when you wished that Hoseok hadn’t possessed you—not because he was unpleasant company or anything. In fact, you could even say that his presence was one of the only high points in your measly existence, despite how pitiful that sounded. You just wished he had possessed someone happier, someone who actually functioned.

You didn’t deserve his kindness. You didn’t deserve anything.

“I can hear you thinking, you know.” He whispers sadly, but you know he’s bluffing. You both couldn’t hear each others thoughts, but he knows you well enough that he can almost physically feel you beating yourself up again. It happens too often for him to be surprised anymore.

“Sorry, it’s just that… I don’t think it’s a good idea. I just don’t want you dragging my comatose body back home after I have another... episode.” You try joking to lighten the sudden tense mood, but the joke hits a little too close to reality. Hoseok could count on two hands the number of times that very scenario actually happened, and he didn’t want the count to reach his toes as well. 

“It’s okay, I won’t force you. It was just a suggestion.” Despite his cool tone, you can still sense the dejection radiating off him in waves. You know he misses going outside and seeing the sun, the trees, the buildings. Most importantly, he misses seeing and talking to other human beings other than your sad excuse of a person.

For any ghost who missed experiencing life, you were definitely the worst possible candidate for a possession.

“If you really really want to go, I won’t stop you from dragging my body outside.” The words leave your mouth before you realize what you had just suggested. You know what would happen when you leave your home; you both did. But why were you trying so hard to please him? Why were you trying to make the pout he was making your mouth form go away?

“N-no, it’s okay. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He chuckles lightly, and he moves your arm to pat your own head in assurance. When he had done this the first few times before, you had thought that it was odd to caress yourself so lovingly. Nowadays, you can’t help but let your head chase after your own hand when he moves it away, already missing the weirdly sweet gesture.

“Are you sure? Because I can probably let myself suffer for an hour if it’ll stop you from pouting so much. Do you know how many pout lines I’m gonna get when I get older because of you?”

The pout on your face instantly disappears. Jokes about the future are always a good sign to Hoseok. It means you were thinking past tomorrow.

“I promise I’ll stop pouting. Now come on, let’s watch that one Running Man episode again. The one with Big Bang.”

You grin, but you’re not entirely sure if it was because of you or Hoseok. 

“That one always almost makes me laugh.” Almost.

“I know. That’s why we’re going to watch it.”

Sometimes, Hoseok didn’t need to do too much to improve your life. It was moments like this when he let you heal in your own time that you felt the best. 

It was a good day.

[starboyholland]

Melodrama | Frat Boy!Calum Hood AU

Requested: nope!

Rating: PG-13, cursing, angst (so much of it yikes)

Summary: YN are a perfect match, but this means that they're destined to burn out. (Inspired by Lorde's iconic, wonderful Melodrama album! Do yourself a favor and listen to it 😌 all of the quotes from her songs should be in bold so let's hope that works)! Enjoy!!

///

"We order different drinks at the same bar." YN had been glancing over at that boy all night, she knew she had to stop sooner or later, but he was hot. Really, really hot- so she would stop staring later rather than sooner. They had seen each other at what everyone called 'the bar' which was basically a counter where a lot of beer and fireball was stored. It was self serve, and had zero fancy drink umbrellas.

Calum had "ordered" a beer from a "bartender" a drunk frat boy who had tried to open the beer with his foot because "every bartender has that rad trick- y'know?" YN had grabbed a bottle of fireball and opened it, pouring some into a cup (no tricks needed) and walked away, glancing back at the tall, dark and handsome boy.

The only reason YN was so comfortable watching this boy was because he was staring back at her, biting his lip and winking every once in a while. YN knew wherever this was going, it would not end favorably but that train of thought was derailed as soon as he'd look over at her again, two red solo cups in his hand. YN wondered if maybe he was bringing a cup over to her, but the thought was shut down as soon as Calum was dared by a large circle of friends, most likely fraternity brothers, to drink both at the same time. Calum, without hesitation, began to chug.

YN wondered why she felt slightly disappointed, what was she expecting? He was a frat boy, doing what frat boys were famous for. His head was covered with a black snapback facing backwards, the bill of the hat pushing against the back of his neck as his head tilted back to drink.

After another hour, YN was getting a bit tired of dancing in her heels and started looking around for a room to put them in where she wouldn't have to worry about them being stolen by other party-goers. She unstrapped the shoes from her feet, sighing in relief as she walked more comfortably across the room towards the stairs leading up to where she assumed the fraternity boys slept. After accidentally walking in on a couple clumsily making out in a bedroom, YN decided to knock before entering any more rooms. Most of the frat houses on campus were built the same so she had relatively little trouble finding her way around. Finally she found another bedroom further down the hall, after knocking she determined it was empty and gently pushed the door open to reveal a room with two beds, one side decorated with band posters layered on the wall, the other side more plain, with a computer set up on a desk pushed against the wall near the closet, clothes thrown cavalierly over the chair that sat in front of the desk.

She dropped her shoes next to the door and closed it again after walking out, looking up just in time not to run into the boy she'd been staring at all night. "What- what were you doing in, in there? That's m' room," He was so unbelievably drunk. His words were slow and slurred and his eyes were hooded, eyebrows furrowed.

"Was just finding a spot for m' shoes, m' feet hurt." YN felt that she was might be over explaining the situation but the alcohol in her veins, while much less than what was in this guy's, was enough to keep her talking. He nodded, starting to walk through the door that you were still standing in front of, running directly into her. He backed up slowly, looking a little confused as to what had just happened before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, eyes and nose crinkling and shoulders moving in time to his laughing. YN shook her head, not believing how drunk this guy was. He laughed so hard he fell back on his ass and YN decided maybe he needed a bit of help getting to bed.

"Here, um, I don't know your name. Let's get you to bed now, yeah?" Calum tilted his head up at her, laughter starting to die down. He looked at her solemnly, "m'names Calum- can call me Cal." YN nodded, offering him a hand up. He took it, his big hand enveloping yours. If he wasn't piss drunk YN imagined that those hands would be great for a hell of a lot of things. He leaned his head on YN’s shoulder as she opened the door, his arm weaved around her waist. She led him to the bed and helped him kick his shoes off, he peeled off his shirt, throwing it across the room and missing a pile of what YN assumed were dirty clothes by several meters, she tried not to laugh.

"What're ya laughin' at?" He pouted, hands grabbing onto her hips and pulling her between his legs. "Nothin' Cal, lay down okay? You should go to bed." "I am in bed," Calum giggled to himself, motioning to his sheets. She just nodded, smiled and began to pull a blanket over him and walk away when he gripped her hand in his again. "Where 're ya goin'" she turned around. "Probably back home, night Cal-" her progress was halted as he pulled her closer to his bed yet again. "Are- are ya an angel?" Her brows furrowed a bit but a smile formed on her face. "No, Cal, I go to college here."

It was her turn to giggle, beginning to walk away when Cal pulled her back again for what felt like the billionth time. His hand wasn’t tight enough to force YN to do anything, she stayed because she wanted to. He was a needy drunk.

"You seem like an angel- you're pretty, and you're nice and-" she smiled at him as he babbled on, you were about to tell him goodnight and leave but he spoke again. "Don't ev'n know your name, angel, don't leave yet."

"YN, m'names YN." He smiled, bringing his head to touch the side of her face softly before bopping her gently on the nose with his pointer finger. Even his hands smelled like beer. "YN the angel," he murmured to himself, she walked over to turn out the light and grab her shoes when Cal called out yet again. "Will ya stay, angel, please?" She told herself she’d only stay until he fell asleep. "I love you," he whispered like it was a secret, before releasing a hiccup, the sound made him laugh and YN rolled her eyes, laying down next to him on top of the covers, not intending to stay long. "No you don't, Cal you don't know me," she laughed at Cal's antics. "I know I'll love you forever, angel" he whispered, slurring his words together even more than before. He didn't seem to notice, continuing to speak.

"I'll love you till my breathing stops". YN just stroked his forehead, pushing his hair back with your fingers. "Shh, go to sleep Cal," he rolled over and so he could cuddle into her easier. His room was cold and YN made the mistake of pulling a blanket over the two of them and before she knew it, she was asleep.

"Our days and nights are perfumed with obsession" The next morning YN woke up to the sounds of hungover frat boys and rustling trash bags- Cal wasn't in his room, YN was alone and hurriedly got out of bed, grabbing her shoes and making her way downstairs, not sure who she would encounter. She could feel her phone was still in her jeans pocket but her battery was dead. Shit, she needed it to navigate home or call a ride to bring her home. She lived off campus and didn't feel like walking through the city today in last nights clothes. "Aye, angel! Glad to see ya up 'n movin'!" Cal said as soon as he spotted her, he put down a large black trash bag, taking a break from cleaning up the post-party mess. YN smiled a bit, wishing Cal wouldn't talk so loud because one, it made her headache worse and two, it attracted the attention of every frat boy in the room.

"Oi, you two lovebirds get lucky last night?" One with a black bro tank laughed, shooting YN a wink. She shook her head quickly, not wanting any rumors to start that she was one of Calum's conquests when she was sure there were many before her to stay the night in his room.

"Why do ya look so embarrassed- I confessed my undying love for you last night, angel!" Cal was joking, a twinkle in his eye as he rubbed her forearm with an outstretched hand. "Like I said, you're not in love with me, but thanks" she laughed and began to leave when she remembered the phone predicament. "Uh, Cal, do you have a charger that'd work with my phone?" You held yours up to him, "Its dead and I need a ride home." Cal shook his head, "sorry mines different than yours, I can ask around if ya want?" He held up his phone, a completely different model than yours. YN began to respond when he spoke again, "or I could give ya a ride? We could get breakfast?" YN wondered if she was being asked on a date. Calum continued to speak. "You took care of me last- night none of these fuckers would've done that," he joked, raising his voice so his friends could hear that last bit. He received a chorus of "hey!" And "fuck off." He grinned.

YN couldn't tell if this was a good or a bad idea, moving her fingers up and down so her shoes would bounce softly against her leg while she considered his proposal. "Sure," she smiled.

She had no idea that accepting Calum's offer would lead to the two of them becoming practically inseparable, Cal even started carrying a charger for her phone in his car. For a month, the two of them were in total bliss, completely obsessed with each other. Always flirting and stealing glances at the other until one night, the two of them sat on the bed in YN’s apartment watching reruns on T.V.. Cal looked at her and took a deep breath. "Hey, YN, I think I kinda have a crush in you." She looked over, processing his words. "I think I kinda have a crush on you too, Cal." Both of their friend groups were annoyed by the lack of separation between the two of them. They knew they were both happy because neither of them ever shut up about the other.

They went on dates for ice cream, getting ice cream on the sides of their mouths as an excuse to kiss, dates to the Forrest where they'd hike and just sit and watch the view. They went to concerts and libraries and were always holding hands. Hell, they went grocery shopping together. They couldn't get enough of each other.

YN usually took things like this slow, carefully planning and considering her feelings. YN usually was calm, cool, coy and collected. Calum made her forget about all of that, they were moving through this relationship at the speed of light, as if every step of the way was only able to flash them a green light. This was exciting- it was a whirlwind and for the next month, YN and Calum felt bliss together like never before.

Of course their friends warned them about this- that it seemed like they might be moving too fast when Cal began to leave some of his things at YN's house after less than two months.

They knew their friends were right but they never talked about it, they were too obsessed with each other. "Let's let things come out of the woodwork I'll give you my best side tell you all my best lies" Their relationship was fire, hot, beautiful- and unpredictable. Their first fight was just as passionate, things being thrown around as they screamed at each other about only God knows what.

Maybe it was Cal's smoking that he knew YN hated, maybe it was that YN was scared at the number of girls Calum talked to all the time. Whatever it was that had pushed them over the edge, it left YN crying in her living room and Cal beating the steering wheel of his car with his hands in the parking lot below. It only took a day for them to start talking again, as though nothing had happened. They were back on track moving as fast as ever. They tried to have faith in each other, but after only knowing each other for the short time they had, it was hard to form a basis for trust.

Calum never knew how to say what he was feeling, worrying he would say the wrong thing and ruin everything. This just left left YN wondering how he actually felt, and she began to assume the worst. 

"Know you won't remember in the morning when I speak my mind" This was all fine and good until they got drunk. Cal was a needy drunk, but YN got angry, this combination never really went well and it was a mystery to everyone why they continued to get drunk together when they always ended up fighting.

They had been fighting for 30 minuets now, in Cal's bedroom where a party was still going on beneath them. It had started with YN's comments. The more she drank the more angry they got, and accusatory. "Who's that text from? Probably some girl you've fucked before me- or maybe still are?"

Cal looked at her with furrowed brows. "What the hell are you talking about? Who would I be seeing when I spend literally all of my free time with you?" His voice got louder and YN matched his volume. "Oh I don't know, but how would I when we never talk about shit?"

This went on for a while, long enough that the party ended and everyone in the house could hear the screaming match and they didn't even notice, voices growing hoarse, tears streaming down both of their faces. They'd moved too fast and now they were paying the price.

"Some angel," Cal scoffed, walking over to his bed before speaking again. "You're a mean drunk, YN." This only made YN cry more and he put his head in his hands. When he stood up, YN was still as angry as he was and couldn't hide it, shoving Calum back with two hands on his chest. She went in for another hit when Calum grasped both of her wrists tighter than he should.

"Get. The hell. Out." He said through clenched teeth, releasing her hands and going to bed, YN was shaken out of her rage enough to gently say his name now, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I said get out!"

Calum full on screamed the words and it was enough for YN to hurriedly vacate the frat house, ignoring the concerned looks of Cal's frat brothers, getting in her car, and speeding away. 

"Let's give it a minuet before we admit that we're through." They didn't talk for weeks. Both of them ignoring the others calls. Finally, YN came home to find Calum seated outside her apartment door, he wasn't drunk but he'd definitely had a few drinks for courage before coming over, they were starting to wear off now that he'd seen YN.

"We need to talk."

They sat across from each other at her kitchen table, the air tense but not hostile anymore. "Maybe we should break up."

"Should we?"

"Well, do you love me?"

YN had no response. She knew that she didn't, that Calum was exciting to her, but there was no future here. Calum knew this too.

"What happened to us, Cal?"

Her eyes were hot and shining, she picked at her nails, not wanting to look at him yet. Calum just shrugged. "Were the loveless generation, YN- we just fuck with our lover's heads, need me to spell it out for you? L-o-v-e-l-e-s-s." "You're a mean drunk, Cal."

"So are you, YN."

"Why do we get drunk together?"

"It's one of the things we do really well together, I guess."

"All the love we had and lost," YN muttered to herself. Trying to objectively review this relationship. It wasn't good for either of them, not really. There was just too many 'cons' and not enough 'pros'. "Why don't I want to say goodbye to you, Cal?" They agreed to spend one more night together.

"Baby really hurt me" They agreed to spend the night sober at Cal's, a party was already in full swing when they got there. Calum and YN made a bee line straight to Cal's room, crawling into bed. They just sat there for a while, nothing left to say to each other.

"I don't mean to hurt your feelings, you know I don't YN." He was tugging on his hair with both hands tightly, overcompensating for his lack of control over the situation. "I know." She replied with a sniffle. "Maybe we just did this all too violently, in a word." Anyone could've seen this coming: the last ditch effort never works, not in times like this.

"But my hips have missed your hips" They decide to try and handshake goodbye which turned into a goodbye hug that turned into a goodbye kiss that turned into a goodbye make-out session that quickly spiraled into goodbye sex in Calum’s bed.

When YN wakes up alone in Cal's bed, she knows it is for the last time. She's back where she started. She leaves the house for the last time, driving away from the house. She pulls into the apartment parking lot. It's only then that she notices an envelope on the passenger seat.

Shit, Cal had the spare keys to her car- and her house. She hurriedly opened the envelope with shaky hands and found both sets of keys inside with a note.

"YN- Thank you for everything. Even all of the drama. All of it. This didn't end the way we hoped it would, but I hope you don't have any hard feelings, I understand if you do. Just know that I don't and you know where to find me if you need anything. Love you Angel, Calum."

[yoyo-inspace]

Happy 20th, Stargate SG-1

I was thinking about whether or not I should write something, or if I should simply keep on reblogging amazing gifsets and tributes for a little while before going to bed and calling it a day.

But it kept nagging me, and I can’t stand the thought of letting this go without at least having said something. Can’t let this day just slip by.

Of course I had to write something. 

It’s not every day one of your favorite shows turns 20. 

It’s hard for me to pick an absolute favorite show, but I think I’ve got it down to two. Doctor Who is pretty obvious, and most people I know wouldn’t be surprised. I think Stargate SG-1 would actually be a bit weirder for them to hear. But it’s the truth. This gem of a science-fiction action series is one of my favorite shows of all time. 

I don’t remember when I first started to watch Stargate. It’s one of those shows that was always on tv when I was a child. Or at least it feels like that (it still does. Literally every time I turn on the right channel, it’s there). I’m 21, so I wasn’t there from its inception. But my dad was. And he LOVES Stargate. 

I actually think that he showed me the movie first. We both share a love of science fiction (I probably got it from him), and I remember seeing that very very early (we’re talking maybe 6 or 7 years old). I think the subtitle was Danish.

Anyway, my dad usually sat watching reruns, or occasionally the new season, of Stargate SG1 late in the evenings in our living room. I don’t remember why, but I started sneaking down, hiding behind a bookcase, and trying to watch the show along with him. Of course, I was soon discovered, and he asked me to watch it with him. 

It became a Thing. Every other night, I would go down, make some sandwiches (and sometimes there’d be candy!) and pour a glass of milk and sit down in the sofa and watch Stargate SG1. I didn’t really watch it chronologically at first. I popped in whenever I was at my dad’s place and he’d explain to me if anything important had happened. The only moment out of these that I remember clearly enough was when I one day asked “Wait, what happened to Daniel? Who’s the new guy?” and found out that Daniel had died a few episodes prior. My heart was crushed! (I warmed to Jonas though). 

Of course, he came back. Because Daniel always comes back. (Lucky me, to finally find a favorite who always comes back.)

(Seriously though, Daniel was my first fictional crush. Which I’ve never gotten over.)

After a while, my dad started buying the DVDs, and we instead sat down and watched the show chronologically, which I’ve done many times over since. On my own, trying to get friends into it, trying to get my sister to watch it (which took time), etc. We also started watching Stargate Atlantis together, which was on tv on Fridays. Sci-fi Fridays. Even if I later have watched the show over and over, it was still Our Thing.

Which might seem odd to many, but it was very important to me. I’ve had a bit of a complicated relationship with my dad, to say the least. Sometimes I doubt if he’s capable of having an uncomplicated relationship with people (than again, who can do that?). But anyway, those Stargate evenings were, most of the time, a break from that. From arguments, from awkwardness, from temper tantrums. They were just there. And that was so important to me.

Now I’ve talked about one aspect of why this show is my favorite, and it’s a highly subjective reason at that. But it’s one reason of many, even if its very personally important.

I grew up with this show, and through that, I’ve grown up with these characters. More than any other show I’ve ever watched, it feels like I know these characters. They do feel like friends to me, as clichéd as that sounds. Friends and family. Their journeys, friendships and struggles means so much to me, because I’ve connected to them all throughout my life. And I think there are some absolutely wonderful characters on this show.

I think Stargate sets itself apart from other similar sci-fi shows. I mean, it’s not the most diverse (though Sam is an AMAZING female character for this sort of thing). It’s not always the most well-written. But it has such heart. It’s a militaristic show, sure, but at its heart, it’s about friendship and family and learning. It’s a militaristic sci-fi show that has such high hopes for humanity, and for the cooperation between peoples and species. Daniel’s idealism is treated as naive sometimes, but it’s also treated as exactly that - ideal. It has a core message that’s about being kind, about how humanity can learn new things, search for knowledge, and that it is what sets us apart. I love those kind of uplifting stories. And the actors and crew members behind this show put so much effort into it, and it shows. Sam Carter wouldn’t be half the amazing character she is without Amanda Tapping. Teal’c wouldn’t have his charm without Chris Judge.

And of course, the show doesn’t take itself seriously at all. I mean, yes, it can get serious, that’s not what I meant. But it has no problem mocking itself, making fun of itself, playing with expected tropes, playing with stereotypes. It knows so well how to have fun with what it is. It’s self-aware. It wants to make you laugh and it succeeds because they’re laughing along with you. And when it gets serious, you know its because they’ve really earned it. O’Neill has made me laugh and O’Neill has made me cry, and it always felt just as genuin. 

It’s not perfect, but in the end, it does what I think sci-fi does best, and that’s trying to tell us something about ourselves. It told me many things about myself, I know that. And it spawned wonderful spin-offs and audio dramas and books and comics and a fanbase that’s still going strong ten years after the show’s cancellation. Fans who are amazing and kind and who get such a warm welcome from the fantastic actors behind it. 

So, this has been my rambling about why this silly 10 season sci-fi show means so much to me, and yet I feel like I haven’t been able to say even half of the reasons it matters to me. Gotta save that for another time then. I’ve gotten enough sappiness for today. But I can’t help it, I love this show. I love the fans. I love the actors and the spin-offs (don’t know what to think about Origins yet, unsure about the era, but I’m excited for new Stargate stuff, always!). 

Got to finish of by saying that my heart has probably never beat as fast as those two days about a year apart when I got to talk to two of those actors who’s meant so much to me throughout my life, and my face has probably never been so red and I’ve probably never mumbled and rambled as much. But they were super graceful and amazing people, dealing with me, and I love them all the more for it. (My face is just a huge smile in these pictures and it looks WEIRD but I have to deal with it and I will still treasure them SO MUCH)

Thank you, Stargate SG-1. Happy 20th anniversary.