#but i NEVER reciprocated these kind of messages i ignored him whenever he said stuff like this

[cheekblush]

SCREAM there are rumors being spread about me at work that i have smth going on with a colleague of mine 😭😭😭😭

[cuinnamonbun]

I’m so sorry this took so long! I’ve been so swamped with my work and figuring out how each individual brother would react in the situation :( A bit of warning though, I’m still not quite familiar with Belphie’s character, I had to work with what little I knew of him by reading through every Belphie stan rant about him, the text messages/phone calls that we get from him and the Obey Me wikia page so I’m really sorry if I destroyed his character here >.< !!! But all of that aside, I hope that this is still enjoyable and readable to all of you :) 

And of course, a massive thank you to @dawndustleo for the request!!

Big brothers’ reactions here!

Part 2 of How the Brothers React to Accidentally Falling in Love with a Devout Muslim MC (Little Brothers)

Satan

Ah, yes. Our resident academic

Satan did not like our cute lil MC when he first met them (and they him) and these two were wary of each other

Honestly, the only reason these two would even become friends in the first place is because of MC tbh

I doubt Satan would approach them willingly in the hopes of making friends. At most, he would only converse with them to add to his impressive list of connections or for his own personal gain (cough making Lucifer miserable cough)

The more he spends time with them though, Satan slowly unravels the layers that make MC the person that they are and he’d be shocked at the depth of character they present since he usually just thinks all religious people are numbskulls and mindless sheep anyway

But MC managed to surprise him by demonstrating a wisdom to them that he has yet to associate with any human. Sure, it may not be as profound as Kant’s or Nietzsche, but any questions regarding theology or morality that Satan would throw at them for fun (with the sadistic intent of watching them blunder in their answer) MC managed to answer it as honest as they could 

To him, most people are predictable

Where most people would reply with a simple “i dunno”, MC did not and it was during these interrogations chatting sessions that Satan could truly admire the rawness of MC’s soul. Be it in the way they viewed the world or their thought process. Satan would be in complete awe of the world that they view through their lenses

Devout Muslims spend most of their life trying to live up to the example of their beloved Prophet Muhammad (may peace be unto him) and MC is no exception to this, their time in the Devildom would make it harder but they’d definitely hold on strong, especially with the angels there as well c:

So even if most of their answers would have something to do with God, the inherent longing and yearning in their voice would be enough to move even him

It’s this part of them that really started his infatuation with MC. They were so pure and virtuous that they were kind to even him, the sworn enemy of every believing Muslim in the world. They looked past his Wrath and understood him and his complexities that often, they would help Satan realise his own mysteries

Unlike the other brothers though, Satan was hyperconscious of MC’s choice in religion 

So the second he realised he was in love with them, his sin consumes him and he would destroy anything within sight and cursing God’s name to, well, Hell

When he finally calms down, that’s when the heartache sets in for him ;(

Because even if MC reciprocates his feelings, their devotion to God would far, far outweigh their love for him and they would always choose Him over Satan

Asmodeus

Asmodeus’ idea of love had always been skewed since the minute he fell from Heaven

Maybe he did experience true love back when he was an angel, but that had been so long ago that he’d almost forgotten how it feels like

As the Avatar of Lust, Asmo’s love language is extremely physical. It doesn’t have to be inherently suggestive but even the more innocent touches like a simple hug or even hand holding could escalate into something risqué

It’s not like he intentionally sets it off too. It’s his sin!! He can’t help it if a friendly hug pitches a tent in his pants!!

Like Lucifer, Asmo would first pursue MC for less-than-pure gains

He revels in attention from anyone and anything, if that person shows the least bit of attention to him (especially sexually) he WILL feel genuinely offended, like he’s not good enough

And with MC’s piety and immunity from Asmo’s charm, he would absolutely see MC as nothing more than a goal, a forbidden fruit, or the highest win one can get in a lottery

He would amp up his seduction and sin to the max level that even his brothers had to leave the room because it was so overpowering it began to mess with their heads and I can see MC not being okay with that and this would upset them a lot

Lucifer will have to force Asmo to apologise to MC every time this happens (a lot) and though his apologies are sarcastic and obviously ingenuine, MC was always so forgiving and so kind, treating him more than just lust embodied. With their high resistance against his charms, Asmo knows that MC is genuine in their want to be his friend

And this would definitely cause his heart to palpitate and soar in happiness. Because for the first time, someone is interested in him, his person rather than his body, his looks or his status as one of the seven Demon Lords of the Devildom

The constant impure thoughts of what he wanted to do with MC once they finally fall under his charm slowly turned into wholesome ones, with him thinking of the best ways he can make them smile like that one time when he said something that was truly amusing to them

He still won’t realise this though because the change had been a slow and steady one. The only way he would realise that he is utterly besotted and head over heels for MC is when MC had accidentally tripped and fell into his arms...and he felt nothing. Well, other than genuine concern and worry of course

He would be so shocked by that fact and he would run to Satan to confirm what he already knew

When he finally comes to terms with it, he was ecstatic and a little nervous. It’s his first time loving someone other than himself and he was so, so excited to share this happy news to MC

Unfortunately, MC would be forced to turn him down as gently as they could, explaining the reasons why. I would imagine it would hurt for MC to do this because they would never ever want to cause him pain 🥺

Asmo would be so shocked. Because why in hell would you ever turn him down? Because he was so sure that MC reciprocated his feelings. They were always so kind to him, so warm and gentle. Had he misread the signs? 

Asmo would give them a fake smile and assure them that it’s fine, that they were much better off as friends anyway even though MC didn’t look like they believed him

Asmo would act joyful as he usually did, but his brothers and MC knew that it was all an act, and while his brothers didn’t understand what’d happened (with the exception of Satan) it would absolutely crush them to see the most joyous of the brothers so dejected, even if he’d try his best to hide it

When MC left the Devildom, Lucifer will have to deal with the influxes of bills his little brother has accumulated from the copious amounts of alcohol he consumed trying to forget about them

Beelzebub

Unlike his older brothers, Beel fell in love with MC real quick

This demon is a big sweetheart and he treasures his family a lot, so I can definitely see him falling in love with a kind MC

Devout Muslim MC would always be on the lookout to help other people wherever they go and when they found Beel sad and hungry, they gave up their lunch for him

When they found out that Beel’s stomach is just practically a black hole, MC would take it upon themselves to learn how to cook all kinds of cuisines (if they couldn’t already) just so they could keep Beel fed and to make sure he doesn’t go around eating inedible stuff

“Beel! Don’t eat that, that is a plate. Come on honey, let me go prepare you a cheeseburger or a dozen, okay?”

Beel fell in love with them right then and there

With how his brothers have had to keep up with his everlasting hunger, they would definitely give up trying to feed him because one, it’s impossible to keep up with the Avatar of Gluttony’s appetite and two, they’re demons, they don’t do Good Samaritan deeds

In order to maintain their grades AND keep up with Beel’s black hole of a stomach, MC developed a little schedule that they taped above their desk and their bed, as well as digitalized a copy in their DDD to allocate their time wisely

When Beel found out about this, he paused. He paused, then gawked, then engulfed MC in a huge hug because no one has ever done anything like that for him and just knowing the extra lengths they went for him made his heart stutter

Mammon: What the hell, MC you made all of this for Beel?????

MC: You know what they say *putting a buffet of food in front of an awed Beel* The quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach *pats Beel’s tummy with a smile*

Beel: *dying from blushing*

From that point on, he started following them like a lost puppy. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they constantly have little snacks on them for him but it was more so because he wanted their company

MC is patient with him and constantly smiles at him which drives his heart crazy and whenever he returns to his shared bedroom with Belphie, he always had this big dopey smile on him as he talked to Belphie about his day with MC and what they did and what MC wore and how cute they were looking at the different plush toys on display at the mall-

Belphie loves his twin but for the love of hell, please just let him sleep

But when Beel told him that he planned to confess to them, all traces of drowsiness would disappear from Belphie and he would have to explain to Beel on why that would be a bad idea

Of course Belphie would do so gently, but there was a heavy hint of urgency and worry in Belphie’s tone that Beel couldn’t ignore

That was the night Belphie would hold Beel while he cried himself to sleep :(

Despite knowing that they weren’t meant to be, Beel would still hang around them even if their mere presence would cause his heart to seize. It wasn’t their fault and Beel would never hold something like this against them. It just isn’t in his nature 

Even if MC reciprocated his feelings, he would never pursue anything more with them despite his heart jumping for joy because he knew it would deeply hurt his MC in the long run

It was precisely because of his love for MC that he would let them go, even if it pained him to do so

When MC left the Devildom, Beel tried his best to continue living his life as it were before but sometimes, he felt as though he might just let his hunger and heartbreak take over him 💔

Belphegor

Being the Avatar of Sloth, Belphie is well aware of the recurring nightmares MC has had since he first killed them. But even without his status as the lord of sleep, one could notice. It was that obvious

MC suffered trauma because of him and Belphie will carry that guilt with him to the end of his days 

The first few weeks, MC is notably wary of him; preferring to stick with Mammon or Lucifer during group activities, leaving the room whenever he was there and coming up with excuses to leave on the spot whenever he would sit next to them during meals

It brought him and his brothers terrible sadness to see their human change from a bright little thing to a meek little animal, trembling down to their knees. It reminded them of when MC first came to the Devildom; lost and fearful

But eventually MC would finally start interacting with Belphie; you know, a simple hello and no immediate fleeing whenever he wanders into a room. Baby steps, y’know? They would still cling to Lucifer or Mammon though

He would be so confused about it

Like, hello? I am your murderer?? Why are you trying to befriend me???

Like, this man really thought that they were going to spend the entirety of the exchange program just ignoring him. Not that he would blame them

But MC was so determined on moving past that and the least he could do was humour them

He would make sure that they were comfortable every time they interacted; which meant no sudden moves, no being an asshole to them, speaking politely to them and just giving them space in general

It won’t take long for MC to fully be comfortable around him again and trust him enough to form a pact with him

Now that MC is able to relax around him, MC and Belphie would be frequently hanging out with each other due in large part to Beelzebub who is just really, REALLY glad that his two favourite people finally like each other now 🥺🥺

In time, they would be able to trust each other enough to reveal the deepest parts of themselves to each other and the first time it happened, Belphie cried and MC...to his surprise, was not a stifling presence

They were silent as they listened to him speak, their attention rapt on him as he bared his soul to them and their presence was warm and comforting as he cried, with no judgment of any sort to be found

That was when he would truly start to fall in love with them and though he realised that MC would probably reject his advances if he were to pursue anything more with them, it didn’t stop him from trying at all

He found a good human not just for himself, but also for Beel and the rest of his brothers, he wasn’t going to let them go that easily

He finally understood why his little sister sacrificed all that she was to be with her human lover and he really thought that their circumstances were similar (spoiler alert it’s not)

His love for MC was absolutely genuine, which would make this all the more terrifying because he would truly believe that what he was doing was the best thing for them

Belphie is cunning and highly manipulative, he would most definitely attempt to skew MC’s devotion to God and attempt to convince her that the Devildom has much better things to offer than the Celestial Realm

He would try his absolute hardest to get them to stay with him in their realm 

“Oh, speaking of God, back when I was an angel, did you know this one time He tried to...” “Do you have to pray now? You could always do it later, you know. I mean, He is Ar-Rahim, the Most Merciful right? He’ll understand”

Devout or not, he will break through their strong will and convince MC to leave their religious path all the while pretending to support them and their religious freedom

If MC reciprocated his feelings, he would be overjoyed because this makes it a HUNDRED times easier for him to persuade them to stay with him and be with him forever

And it’s true, with his silver tongue and patience, he could absolutely crumble MC’s devotion to God if MC’s not careful

If Belphie was unsuccessful with his attempts to keep them with him forever, he would be absolutely enraged by it

“They’re MINE! You stay away from them! I am so irrevocably in love them and I REFUSE to let Him have them!”

He would probably most definitely start a war with the Celestial Realm over this 

[sweetest-honeybee]

To Hell and Back

Chapter 17

Summary: Wels basically tries to kill Tango.

Characters: Wels, Tango, Beef mentions

TW: Hella violent chapter, includes blood and pain

———————

Even a couple days later after his little dispute with Beef, Wels was still quite annoyed. For those couple days he decided to just stay around his base, careful not to wander over into Beef’s territory. The butcher was now the last person he wanted to see right now and he was fine with staying home alone if it meant he didn’t.

But inevitably, he’d have to leave for some particular reason at some point. Today was that day and he was going to have to meet with Tango. He already rejected the offers to visit or receive visitors from other Hermits, but suspicion was bound to rise if he continued to reject the many invitations. Especially since he started in the series so late. The others wanted to see him again.

That being said, he laid in bed wondering if he could come up with some kind of excuse. He had to breed cows for hours, his portal needed some recalibration, he needed to grind for new stuff because he lost all of it again, something like that. It would be believable but Beef was bound to chatter off to someone.

Not that Wels thought anything was wrong. He was still the same old chivalrous knight he was for years beforehand, Beef was just overreacting. But if the butcher happened to tell Xisuma what he thought, the admin would definitely ask some questions.

While he thought, his communicator buzzed a few times. Kicking off his blanket with a groan- despite being only noon- he saw that Tango was persistent in making sure Wels left his house. There were at least ten new messages pestering him to come over.

Mostly with bribes for good trading which Wels knew he probably wouldn’t be able to turn down if he tried. He needed some stuff that Tango was willing to trade for a lower price than the shops in the shopping district. The buzzing continued.

<TangoTek> Helloooooo

<TangoTek> Wels

<TangoTek> I’ll give you a bunch of iron

<TangoTek> Gunpowder?

<Keralis> I’ll take some

<TangoTek> :(

<TangoTek> I can see you reading my messages

<TangoTek> Please come over

<MumboJumbo> What on earth is going on?

Wels rolled his eyes. Desperate much? He winced at the thought. No, no, Tango had a point. He’d never call him desperate just for wanting to see him again. Actually that was odd. Wels was not the type to ignore everyone.

Was that what Beef meant? Of course not, Wels felt fine. Great, in fact. He hadn’t felt this good in ages, just a little more irritable than usual, he supposed. Maybe he was just stressed from continually trying to avoid everyone. He really did probably need to see someone.

And that someone would be Tango, he guessed. Might as well. His communicator kept buzzing repeatedly. With a sigh, he finally replied.

<TangoTek> WWWEEEEEELLLSS

<Welsknight> I’m coming over

He threw it back into his pocket and left his bed for the first time in probably at least 24 hours. Stretching his legs felt odd after being still for so long when he was used to walking around every day. Still, he threw on his armor and elytra, not immediately noticing how grey his feathered wings looked than usual.

Wels assumed he wouldn’t be gone for long so food wasn’t necessary- not that Tango wouldn’t lend him some if it became a problem. However, he still kept his sword on his hip if there were any….complications. Unknowingly, he snickered at the thought. With a last look in the mirror, he decided that he was fully ready to leave, completely disregarding his feathers’ new color.

As he walked out the front door, his head turned to the general direction of Beef’s village. An intense scowl crossed his face but before he could think further, he fired off his rockets. He had no time to keep thinking about that lying little butcher.

He winced at the thought again. He didn’t like Beef much now, but that was a bit harsh. Either way, Beef was going to start drama if this continued and Wels wasn’t a fan of being in the middle of one huge argument, especially something having to do with Helsknight of all people. The dark knight was also one of the last people he wanted to see either. He was almost too glad that Evil Xisuma kept him so far away from Wels.

Though, he was beginning to not like Ex either, to be honest. Avoiding the other hermits for three days left more time to think and most of his thoughts consisted of recalling different memories of other evil hermits who threatened to destroy something they loved. Evil Xisuma was certainly one of them.

The counterpart thankfully lost most of his power over the last couple of years. Ever since he decided to move back into the Overworld, he wasn’t granted as many abilities by Xisuma as he had when he lived freely off of the powers given to him by ‘The Lord of Darkness’.

But Wels was getting sidetracked. He plastered on a grin and kept his pace, soon eyeing the colorful asymmetrical buildings on the horizon. The sight always brought on a chuckle from the knight and the grin quickly softened into a more genuine expression. Despite his previous thoughts, he was beginning to grow more excited to see his demon friend.

He opted to land on one of the rooftops and pulled out his communicator. Wels didn’t immediately type in any messages in case Tango was somewhere nearby or flying around while he waited for Wels to arrive. That assumption seemed to be correct when the bat winged figure came into view about a hundred feet away and quickly made its way over.

When Tango landed, the knight was pulled into a spine crushing hug followed by some pats on the back. Awkwardly, Wels just lightly patted the other on the back, not really reciprocating the hug as enthusiastically as Tango probably would’ve liked.

The demon pulled back but kept a hold on the knight’s shoulders which Wels gladly showed some disdain towards. “Jeez, where have you been, man?! Nobody’s heard from you for a couple days now!” At the uncomfortable expression from Wels briefly glancing at his hands, he pulled them away.

“Just needed to be away from people for a while, ya know? I had some personal stuff going on.” He picked something dirt off his shoulder and flicked it away absentmindedly as if Tango dirtied his shirt sleeve.

“Oh, anything you wanna talk about?”

Wels shook his head. “No, no, just Helsknight stuff.” He clapped his hands together. “Anyways! You had some trades in mind? I’m really running out of iron and I’ve got beacon pyramids to build.”

Abandoning his previous worry, the demon lit up with a snort. “I may know a guy….” Tango eyed Wels with a grin. “Iron shop sells a stack of blocks for a diamond, I’ll give you two stacks for a diamond. Or, if you can provide me with a ton of concrete, we can work something out there.”

The knight thought for a second, considering the offer. “Hm, that sounds like one hell of a deal. I’ll think about that while we discuss some other deals.” Wels brushed his fingers over the hilt of his sword absentmindedly. “Heard from the grapevine that you have a creeper farm too.”

Tango eyed the hilt curiously. His eyes followed back up to Wels. “There’s a TNT and rocket shop in the shopping district, but if you want to be fully self-sufficient, I’ll just let you use the farm whenever if there’s something you can offer of equal value.”

“Awesome, one more thing. Obsidian, tons of it, just tons of obsidian. It’ll make sense in a couple months, but I can’t say what it’s for right now.”

Tango raised a brow. “Tons like….a hundred stacks? Or….”

“About four hundred stacks.”

The demon’s jaw practically fell to the floor. “F- Four hundred?” He rubbed at his neck and whistled for emphasize the amount. “That’s….a lot. And a LOT of hours. Even with efficiency and insta-mine, that many stacks is still days worth of mining.” He sighed. “I’d love to help with that but I’m not exactly made of diamonds or have that much time on my hands. It’s not exactly something that can be automated like iron or gunpowder.”

Wels rolled his eyes which Tango made a confused face to.

“Fine, fine,” Wels began with huff. “I’ll find someone else then. Make it four stacks of iron blocks for a diamond and I’ll give you half my loot from the end for the creeper farm.”

Tango stuttered at the utterly ridiculous proposal (though some shulker boxes would be nice, but Wels didn’t visit The End often). “Wha- four stacks of iron blocks?! For a diamond?!”

The confusion didn’t phase Wels in the slightest. “Yes, that is what I said.” His gaze hardened on Tango, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Is there a proble- Wels that’s the worst deal I’ve ever heard of! I mean I guess a few shulkers would be nice for the creeper farm but you rarely visit the end!”

“Four stacks.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

Slowly, the sword was being pulled from its sheath. Tango noticed instantly.

“Put the sword away, Wels. You’re better than that,” he gulped. His voice wavered ever so slightly which Wels merely smirked at. This wasn’t like him….

“Four stacks, Tango. Or we’ll have a better form of negotiation.”

Tango lifted his hands defensively, moving one to the hilt of his own sword. “Okay, please tell me that you’re Hels in disguise or something. You’re not actually going to try to threaten me into a deal here, right?”

That seemed to set off something in Wels’s mind when Tango saw the familiar bright blue eyes bring on a redder hue.

And that in itself was already more concerning. Almost too quickly, the knight lost his previously colder stare and lashed out.

“Argh!” The knight unsheathed his sword. “Why do you guys keep saying that?! I’m fine! I feel fine! I-“ Wels swung once at Tango. “-Don’t-“ The demon drew his own sword to block the hit with wide eyes. “-Want-“ The knight swung again. “-Anything-“ Swing. “-To do-“ He lifted it above his head. “-With that-“ He threw an intense glare at Tango. “-Stupid knight!” He brought the sword down, only narrowly missing Tango’s left.

Frantically pulling up his inventory, the demon threw on his armor. He ducked and hopped around and leaned away from each swing of the blade. Each time, he tried to persuade the knight into calming down but evidently to no avail while the other spewed curses at him.

“Wels- Wels stop! I’m not fighting!” Tango took some rockets and flew away, Wels only just on his tail. “What’s gotten into you?!” He shouted. He felt the blade just barely nick his boot. “I’m sorry I said that-!” He turned and took his own swing at Wels, grazing his shoulder. “We can talk about this!”

“I don’t need to talk! I’m not-“ Wels swung again. “I’m not anything like him!”

Only now while the knight struggled to balance himself out after the swing did Tango notice how dark his feathers were. Were they that grey before? The sun was shining right on them earlier, they seemed so light before. With a closer look, the demon could see feathers falling to the earth with each frantic flap, revealing patches of dark skin underneath.

“Okay, okay! You’re not but will you stop trying to kill me?!” Using a kick to the other’s chest, he boosted himself away from Wels. Wels on the other hand only kept struggling. Flying wasn’t his strong suit, Tango knew, and he’d use that to his advantage.

Using another couple of rockets, he tried to get as far away from Wels as possible. Mostly, he flew in circles around him to keep an eye on what he was trying to do. Wels mostly just sent glares in his direction because he knew that he wouldn’t maneuver his way towards Tango that quickly. That in itself only angered him further.

While he flew each lap around him, he took the chance to talk at least some sense into him.

“Wels, what’s going on? Did something happen?” He asked from afar. Wels didn’t answer, still giving him the death glare. Tango spoke again, this time touching on something a bit more personal. “What did Hels do?”

The knight’s hands balled into harder fists around the sword. “I don’t need to tell you anything!”

Tango sighed. He was running out of rockets. “Okay, you don’t, but whatever you’re going through doesn’t justify trying to kill your friend!”

“You-“ Wels growled “- are not my friend!”

As Tango circled by too close this time, Wels swung once more, slicing a straight line across his side and into his right wing. With an audible gasp, the demon was sent flying with now broken elytra into the direction of the towers. The familiar blue concrete came into view quickly and he already knew how much the impact was going to hurt from previous experiences. God, how much he hated respawning. He was almost certain he was going to die the second he made contact with the roof.

But that didn’t happen. Instead, he initially felt his face slam into the cold concrete roof but in a panic, he took his wings to shield himself from further impact. It was a pathetic attempt at not injuring himself more than he already was. His armor shattered and disappeared in a wisp of blue and purple, leaving room for scraping his arms and legs.

His bad wing burned when it tore further and when he finally landed, he laid on his side and curled in on himself with heaving breaths. It hurt, everything was hurting and he hated that he wasn’t dead already. His sword flew off somewhere else but he assumed Wels would just put him out of his misery.

Wels landed and practically stomped towards the demon, sword still in hand. Tango could only watch as blood- his blood- dripped down the blade disturbingly. On the bright side, he wouldn’t be awake for much longer, he was out of it. He coughed meekly.

“N-nngh….hh….” he muttered out. He couldn’t speak. It hurt to move anything in his face. He simply opted for closing his eyes. Hopefully, someone would come and see what happened. Wels needed some serious help.

And as if his prayers were answered, he heard an all too familiar deep voiced, robotic accent.

[drunkenonmysofa]

THE LAST CONVERSATION (A MICHAEL CLIFFORD IMAGINE)

+mobile masterlist

there’s a part one here but you dont have to read it to understand this.

summary: in which you run into the boys and have a heartbreaking conversation with your old best friend, michael.

requested?: hell yeaaaa

word count: 4,564 (my longest so far!! i got carried away lol)

warnings: this is angsty as hell get ready

To fall in love was an easy thing to do. It was gradual, a friendship slowly building up with passion and fire. Although it was easy get in, it was another thing to get out of love.

You were sure that you’ll get over him when you went to his wedding. Because then you’d get closure and go on with your life. You’d move on and love another person. Yet that doesn’t seem to be the case here.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Nick asked, his eyebrows furrowing at your distant stare into what seemed like nothing. His words shook you out of your thoughts, so you send him a half-hearted smile and a reassuring nod.

“I’m okay. Just thinking.” You told your boyfriend, clutching his hand briefly so that he’d be more than content with your answer. Although he didn’t fully believe you, he forced himself to trust your answer. He knew you were keeping something from him, and if you kept your secret for so long, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. He couldn’t lose you; he’s loved you for 8 months and he couldn’t necessarily just throw it all away.

You’ve been quiet for the past few days, contradicting the first seven months that you were so comfortable and loud whenever he’s around. Nick thought it was going okay—he thought you were doing great—but now it just seemed like an illusion. Your boyfriend’s so sure that the reason for your reserved self—and it’s that damned baby shower invitation that came into the mail a week ago.

“I’m going for a snack run, do you want anything?” You asked Nick, a soft but forced smile on your face as you put your sweater on. He asked for his favourite chips and kissed you goodbye as you exited your shared apartment.

You had to admit to yourself that you did truly like Nick. He had this comfort around him that you found rare these days, and he was one of the very few people who actually helped you move on from someone you used to love.

At least, you thought you were over him.

Almost a year ago, you attended the wedding of your old best friend. Though you initially thought it would help you move on and get closure, it only brought more pain. You still remembered how it felt to see him speak his vows to his bride, it was as if a dull knife was digging into your skin.

Michael Gordon Clifford. That name was still engraved into your being. You couldn’t carve it out—it seemed as if it was permanently etched onto your brain, your heart, your skin. He was everywhere.

Of course, Nick made his way into your heart. For the time being, at least. You kept promising yourself to break up with him, because it didn’t seem fair at all. But he was distracting you from Michael, and the alleviation was something you deemed you needed. Still, it was selfish, but your boyfriend didn’t seem to mind. If he did, he would’ve left long ago.

This type of behaviour was new. You were never like this, at least when you got into a relationship with Nick. It was like something had triggered your memories with Michael. And to be frank, something really did.

When the baby shower invitation first came into the mail, you didn’t mind it. Because it looked like an invitation from Nick’s coworker or friend, but when your boyfriend brought it up at dinner, you had to stop yourself from choking on the pasta. A name you haven’t heard for so long has left Nick’s lips, and made you a mess internally.

It wasn’t like you forgot Michael for the past 8 months, you just barely acknowledged him. After all, you can’t really forget someone who’s technically been in your whole life up until three years ago. He remained to show up in your Instagram feed from time to time, but you quickly scroll past the posts. You still couldn’t bring yourself to cut your all ties off, you felt as if you weren’t ready.

And, of course, there was the occasional text messages from Lauren, Michael’s wife, greeting you every few months. You concluded that Michael told her about the past years that you were inseparable, as well as the fact that you were a big part of his life although the friendship stayed platonic.

This thought led you wondering if Michael also told her that he confessed his love for you three years ago. And that you never told him that you reciprocated his feelings, not even trying to talk to him until nine months later in the middle of December, when you ran into Michael and his girlfriend-turned-wife. After a few minutes of painful, painful small talk, Lauren ended the conversation by asking for your number as they had to continue their holiday shopping. You gave them the number with no reluctance, and you swore you could see a glint in Michael’s eyes.

Although you didn’t know, the only thing on Michael’s mind at that moment was hurt. Because that’s why he couldn’t contact you anymore. You changed your number.

Michael didn’t text you at all. It was Lauren who frequented on reaching out to you even though the text messages popped out once in a blue moon. And when the wedding invitation came through the mail, you were more than surprised. Shocked, even. But that feeling didn’t even amount to when Lauren called you a few hours later to ask you to be a bridesmaid.

You didn’t want to go through with it at all. But Lauren was the bride, after all. She also told you that Michael gave her the greenlight, so you thought to yourself, why not? Of course, there were a lot of reasons why you shouldn’t go, but you blatantly ignored it and went anyway.

It didn’t end well, with you crying in the arms of Calum Hood, one of your closest friends. You rode a taxi on the way home earlier than usual as Calum texted you that he would cover for you in your absence.

You had hoped that the love you felt for Michael would fade in time, but that wasn’t the case here.

Being an undeniably nice person was sometimes the reason as to why you became a pushover. You never usually retorted back or said no to people who would get hurt by your rejection. It was one of the reasons why Nick was in your life, not that you regret anything, you just wished he would’ve come sooner (since you weren’t exactly over Michael yet), and it was one of the reasons why you went to Michael’s wedding.

Now, it’s one of the reasons why you’re at a supermarket, staring into the fridge of ice cream, deep in thought. Though you were trying to pick out a flavour of ice cream you’d like, your mind kept wandering off to Lauren’s baby shower.

“My manager has noticed you having trouble. Do you need any help?” Your head snapped to where you heard the voice. You noticed an employee giving you a kind smile.

The thoughts that were previously in your head was interrupted as you replied curtly. “No, thank you.” And with that, the employee left to tend to other customers.

The short exchange shook you out of your trance as your mind remembered the reason why you were here. So, unlike the past ten minutes, you actually start getting the snacks; vanilla ice cream, a few bags of chips, two six-packs of beer, and your comfort food.

As you turned to the candy aisle, you tried to find your favourite brand of gummy bears. When you noticed it, though, you frowned. There it was, in all it’s glory, on the highest rack. You couldn’t reach it because of your short height, but you still tried. Your fingers reached for the pack as you stood in your tippy toes, small groans emitting from your throat as the situation annoyed the hell out of you.

A hand took the pack of gummy bears from the rack for you, giving it as they chuckled. You sighed in relief, turning to him to give him thanks.

You were met with a mop the most familiar blonde hair, right above the face of an old friend. “You’re still into those?” He chuckled, gesturing to the candy in your basket. “You know those are bad for your teeth, Y/N. I told you a thousand times…” He trailed off.

A smile crept on your face. You recognized him as soon as you turned. “Shut up, Luke.” The reply brings a big grin on his features.

“You haven’t grown at all since I last saw you,” Luke refers to last year, when you spoke to him briefly at Michael’s wedding while simultaneously teasing you about your height. The mention of the wedding makes your smile falter a bit, yet he thankfully doesn’t notice. “But you’re still as beautiful. I’ll give you that, at least.”

The electric blue eyes of Luke Robert Hemmings still reminds you of the ocean even after you stopped talking. You weren’t one to talk to someone unless they approached you first—so when you distanced yourself from Michael, Luke and you got disconnected as well. Luke was never one to approach first, either. But when you do talk, it’s like you’ve known each other since birth, despite meeting him at 9th grade when he and Michael decided to be friends rather than enemies.

He, too, knows how you feel towards Michael. But he rarely acknowledges it, because, unlike Calum, he chose to not mention it as he knew that fact made you feel uncomfortable.

“Always so flirty, Hemmings.” You giggled, slightly blushing at his words.

“You know, the boys are waiting for me at Macca’s. Wanna come?” He inquired with a small smile on his face. “I could wait until you’ve finished paying for your stuff. I’m sure the other guys would want to catch up with you.”

You couldn’t say no, especially to the boys. Though you didn’t necessarily want to see Michael right now, you still missed them. It’s been a year since you saw them in person, so you couldn’t deny a simple hang out, even though it would probably last for only a few minutes.

Since the supermarket wasn’t so busy, you finished paying for your stuff earlier than usual. Your nerves were building up as seconds passed. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but for once in your life, you wanted a long line of people waiting their turn for the cashier, because then you wouldn’t be able to see Michael sooner.

“You alright, Y/N?” Luke questions from beside you, eyeing you with concern. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

“I’m fine,” You replied. “It’s just… I haven’t seen you guys in a while and I’m afraid that it’ll be weird.”

“You still talk to Calum, though, right? And it’s fine. They’ll be ecstatic to see you.” Luke said and put some of his own stuff (which was just a few bags of chips) into your basket so that he could pull out his phone. “Here, I’ll give them a heads up.” He types out a message to the boys’ groupchat, showing you the text he sent right after.

You sighed in defeat. “Yeah, whatever.” Luke chuckles at your less than unenthusiastic reply as you gave the basket of junk food to the cashier. “Also, yeah, me and Calum talk from time to time, but we never really meet up. He’s always busy producing music.”

“Did he tell you that he got a girlfriend? She’s English.”

“God, yes. It’s literally all he’s been talking about for the past few facetimes…”

The conversation flowed with Luke smoothly, it was as if you never stopped talking at all. It was weird, to be frank, but seeing him cheered you up and made you momentarily forget about your decision on whether or not you wanted to attend the baby shower.

Luke offered to carry all the paper bags that held all the junkfood and you reluctantly agreed, since he ignored all your rejections and repeatedly insisted that it’s the least he could do for not talking with you for a long time.

Your answers and replies got shorter as you neared the fast food chain. Luke noticed it, but decided against bringing it up, trying to make you laugh instead.

When you entered the boys’ line of sight, you’d imagine more of an awkward stare. You would wave politely at them as they waved back. But that wasn’t the case here.

As soon as Calum saw you, which was the second you walked into the restaurant, he jumped from his seat, running to you until he’s engulfed you into a hug. “Oh my God, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I was in town.” He said, his voice muffled as he buried his head into the crook of your neck. You giggled at his abrupt greeting, hugging him back just as tight before you both let go. “You look as horrible as ever.” He joked, putting an arm around your shoulders as you playfully scowled at him, swatting his hand off of you.

Ashton was quick to come up to you too as soon as you were six feet away from the table they shared. He gave you a brief hug with a smile on his face. “It’s so good to see you, Y/N.” You said the same to him, an equally big smile on your face. Subconciously, your eyes drifted to the table.

And there he was. A black beanie was wrapped around his head with a few locks of his blonde hair sticking out messily. You haven’t seen him in person in such a long time, you actually got caught off guard at his appearance. His hair definitely got longer, he got a stubble, and he drfinitely looked mature. Though the features looked new—you were still struck with familiarity.

It was Michael Clifford, after all. You couldn’t forget him if you tried.

In an attempt to avoid an awkward conversation, you try and strike up small talk with the other three boys. Though it was cut short as Michael stood up from the table and approached you, a small smile on his ever so familiar pink lips.

“Hey,” He gently tugged on the end of your hair, averting your attention to him. It takes you a few seconds to collect yourself because you feel the nostalgic aching in your chest that you haven’t felt in a long period of time. Michael noticed your hesitance, but mistakes it for confusion. “What, no hugs for Mikey?”

The teasing question catches you off guard, but despite the nagging in the back of your head telling you that this was a mistake, you laughed. It’s somewhat fake—but Michael doesn’t need to know. “You haven’t changed, haven’t you?” The words left your lips in a happy tone, but it felt like venom in your mouth. He changed—he definitely did, but maybe, maybe if you keep telling yourself that he didn’t then it would come true.

“You know I haven’t.” Michael smiled, engulfing you in a big hug. It takes you by surprise, but you barely hesitate to hug back. He was always big on physical affection. There wasn’t a time when Michael didn’t hug you at least once when you frequented hanging out. It was one of your favourite things about him.

Unlike the embrace you shared at his wedding a few months back, the hug was long and tight; as if it was something you both longed for. And in a way, it was.

“You’re squeezing me,” You joked, a smile, a genuine smile creeping on your face. Michael released you with a slight chuckle.

You don’t know why this is more comfortable than your encounter back at the wedding. You’re uncertain if it’s because of Lauren’s absence or the boys’ presence, but you know one thing’s for sure.

It’s not as hard to pretend that nothing’s wrong compared to a long time ago.

Next thing you know, you’re all squeezed into one booth, eating unhealthy food like you did back in high school. The guys were telling you stories about the recent events in their lives, words smoothly flowing as the air seemed lighter and happier. For once in a long time, you don’t feel regret.

“How about you, Y/N?” Luke asked, a grin forming on his face. “Any special people?” He wiggled his eyebrows, earning a small laugh from you.

The brief mention of Nick in the presence of someone you loved—and still love—for the past few years makes you squirm in your seat, though it looks like they didn’t notice. It takes you a few seconds to answet him. “Yeah… his name’s Nick.”

In less than an hour, the conversation abruptly ends with a phone call from your boyfriend. He tells you to come home since it’s about to be rush hour and you hastily agreed. “Leaving so soon?” Calum speaks up right after you end your call with your boyfriend, a sad smile on his face, knowing full well that it’ll be a long time until you see each other again.

“Yeah, m'sorry.” You pouted, standing up from the table as Calum follows suit. “Call soon, okay?” The phrase was a goodbye that both of you used often, a habit that you never seemed to outgrow. You never did like goodbyes, anyways.

After your hug with Calum, the other two boys wave you off with big smiles on their faces as they wished you a safe ride home. Michael, though, also stood up. “I’ll walk you to your car.” He stated, taking the bag of snacks from your arms.

Since the mall wasn’t that big, you were in the car park in a matter of five minutes. The walk wasn’t uncomfortable—just silent. It seemed as if Michael didn’t know what to say and vice versa. Though, as you approached closer to your car, Michael starts a conversation that you would later lose sleep over.

“Y/N,” The blonde said, making you snap your gaze towards him. “What happened?”

His question catches you off guard. You don’t exactly know what he’s talking about, but you have a general idea. “Hm?” With eyebrows raised, you looked at him in confusion.

“It’s been almost three years.” Michael stared in front of him, trying to avoid your stare. “I told you I loved you then you left. Just like that.”

The mention of the unspeakable event makes you shudder. Your gaze drops to your shoes in guilt. It’s hard to say anything. You couldn’t muster up even a simple apology to him as the familiar aching in your chest returns.

Michael noticed your silence, so he keeps talking. “I tried so fucking hard to talk to you, Y/N.” His words are like daggers in your chest. “But you tried to avoid me like I was the plague. You even changed your number. At one point you blocked me out of everything.” Michael’s voice cracks, and even though you’re not looking at him, you know he’s struggling to fight the tears just as you are. “If it wasn’t for us bumping into each other then you wouldn’t even unblock me.”

“Car,” You told him, not bothering to look at him as you entered the driver’s seat and he enters the passenger’s. If the tension in the air wasn’t thick, it sure was now. It was almost as if you could cut a knife through it. You remained quiet after you said the word.

“I just…” He sniffled. You felt your heart break iinto a million pieces as tears brimmed your eyes. “I just want to know why.”

“I… I’m not sure—” You muttered under your breath but it was loud enough for him to hear.

“Don’t,” Michael said, his voice turning stern. “I deserve an explanation rather than an ‘I’m not sure’.” The phrase angered him, but still, the hurt remained. His gaze burns into the side of your skull.

“I was scared, Michael!” You exclaimed, hot tears running down your cheeks. Michael’s breath hitches at the tone of your voice but his stare on you stays fixed. Though, your eyes keep their hold on the empty car park in front of you, trying their best to avoid him. Your voice becomes softer. “I was scared that one day, you’d wake up and not love me anymore. I can’t live with that.”

“Then you should be dead by now.” Michael muttered, making you avert your eyes toward him. His gaze falls back onto the scene in front of him as you caught his bloodshot eyes. “I spent so many days wondering what could’ve been if you loved me.”

“But I did love you.”

“Did you love me when you left without a word?” Michael’s tone sounds defeated. “Did you love me when you ended our friendship?”

“Michael…”

“Did you love me when I said I loved you?” Michael sighed, resting his head against the window beside him. You’re trembling, out of guilt, sadness, and anger towards yourself. You can’t stand to see him like this, and the fact that you induced it made you hate yourself even more.

“I love you, Michael. I still do…. I don’t think anything would ever stop that.” You said weakly as you tore your gaze off him. “I’m sorry.”

“I loved you, Y/N. For the longest time.” Michael paused. “Then I realized that this is the way it should be.”

You don’t say anything, but the whimpers escaping your lips says a thousand words.

“We didn’t have the right timing, did we?” He joked and chuckled lightly, but there was no humour in the situation. “You want to know something?” There was no words from you, but a glance told him that you did. “I don’t regret anything. I don’t regret falling in love with you, Y/N.”

A relieved laugh escaped from your lips out of sudden happiness, but the tears are still streaming down your face. “I don’t regret falling in love with you either.”

Michael figets with the gold band on his ring finger. “Back when we were seventeen, do you remember when you were confined because of the car crash?” You slowly nod, wiping away the tears on your face. “I was the first person that saw you wake up since the accident. I felt like the luckiest man on the planet.” Michael grinned softly at the memory, the tears now stopped. “Then you gave me the happiest smile. That’s the first time I knew I loved you.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” You quietly said. “But… are you happy?”

“The happiest I’ve ever been.” Michael smiled. “Are you?”

“To be honest?” You let out a dry laugh. “I don’t know.”

His hand makes it’s was to your upper arm, a familiar gesture of comfort that you had both adapted. You don’t feel butterflies and it doesn’t seem romantic, but you find a snippet of home and belonging in his simple touch. Despite the growing distance between you. “The world is not that big of a shitshow.”

“Wait for it.” You joked, giving Michael a small grin. He released your arm and puts down the bag on the floor of the passenger’s seat.

Michael sniffs. “Take care, okay?” And before you could even reply, he’s out the door, walking away with his back facing you. You don’t know for sure, but it looked like he was wiping his face as he walked.

With a burst of confidence and desperation, you get out of the car and run after him, the tapping of your shoes against the floor echoing in the slightest. He doesn’t notice you at first, but he does when you hug him from behind. The waterworks start again. “Michael, don’t leave, please. Please,” You whimpered. “Choose me, please.”

You could feel the beat of his heart as you hugged him. It was fast as his labored breaths. “I love her.” His words break your heart. “You have to let me go.” Your arms are pried off him and he breaks free from your hold. He turned around with new tears falling onto his rosy cheeks.

“We can’t end like this.”

“We never even started, Y/N.” Michael shook his head in disappointment. “Look at me,” He cups your cheeks in his warm hands, making you fix your eyes on his. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

“Michael—”

He cuts off your stubbornness. “Promise.”

“… I promise.” You hesitantly said. As soon as the two words leave your lips, Michael engulfs you in his arms once again as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. “I guess this is goodbye, isn’t it?” You whispered. Michael lets go of you and nods slowly. “Take care, Michael Clifford.”

“Keep your promise, Y/N Y/L/N.” And he leaves. He never really liked goodbyes as well.

The ride on the way home is quiet, apart from the faint music coming from your car radio. The tears on your cheeks had dried because of the air conditioning, and surprisingly, you don’t find yourself crying. When you enter your apartment, Nick’s already asleep on the couch as the TV plays a football game. Despite feeling sleepless, you go to your bedroom and nestle yourself under the sheets.

You don’t sleep for a few hours, replaying the conversation in your head over and over again. You kept going through what you should’ve said that could make him stay, but you realize it’s too late now.

Your thoughts wander to the baby shower. In a haste, you pull out your phone text Lauren an apology because you decided to not go. You didn’t know how you’d react to Lauren and her baby bump, but theres a high chance that it would break you.

It was going to be a long process, but you had to get over Michael. You had to face your fears this time in order to take care of yourself. Going over what you should do, you concluded that you shouldn’t be in a relationship with Nick if you only considered him a distraction. But you decide to do it in the morning instead.

Maybe, in a few years’ time, you’d meet the love of your life and start a family with him. And if he asked about the people you fell in love with, you’d tell the story of you and Michael. Perhaps you’d do it without hesitance and with a smile on your face, because even though he’s the one that got away, he would still be the greatest what if in your life.

But now, as you’re huddled under the duvet and you’re losing sleep over him, you tell yourself to keep his promise. No matter how hard it is. Even if it takes two hours of crying or three tubs of ice cream or morning jogs. You will take care of yourself.

And you can’t wait until the familiar green eyes start to remind you of beautiful trees instead of heartbreak.

[kingedmundsroyalmurder]

The junkyard only offered me $300, his dad had said, not quite meeting his eyes, unsure how to even approach him anymore. It's a look Jason's gotten very familiar with, ever since the initial fury died down. It's that look that says, 'why did you do this?' and 'why can't you ever think things through?' and 'don't you know how much this is hurting me?' It's a look Jason hates more every time he sees it. But he swallows down his anger and walks away without a word and tells himself that there are more important things to worry about right now. Things like Rita and leading the team and figuring out how to morph. Things that make his personal problems seem small, so small they shouldn't even be problems. So he pushes them aside and he doesn't talk to his dad and he throws everything he's got into this ranger thing, because Zordon says it's important and Zordon might be an arrogant son of a bitch half the time but there's fear in his voice when he talks about Rita and grief whenever he mentions his old team and that's enough for Jason.

Only then it's over. They fight and they lose and they get a second shot (and then a third) and finally, finally they manage to scrape out a victory. It feels awesome, sitting there in their giant robot as the entire town cheers at their feet, and it feels awesome to go back to Zordon and tell him that they did it, they saved the world. It feels much less awesome to shift back into street clothes and fish his phone from his pocket and hear his dad's message. It feels much less awesome to try and slip through the back door without being noticed and find himself greeted by both parents, worried and relieved and angry all at once, to be swept up in a hug while listening to a lecture about answering your phone in a crisis, Jason, I thought you might be dead, do you know how worried we were? It definitely feels less awesome to have to awkwardly lie to people who care about you and come up with lame excuses for where he was during the whole thing. He escapes to his room as quickly as he can and shuts the door and tries not to hear them talking about him through walls that never used to seem so thin.

It takes a week for school to open again, a week that Jason spends away from home as much as possible, fixing the damage that Rita and the rangers caused and checking up on everyone he knows and trying to dodge questions about where he was and whether he got a good look at the guys who saved the city with their giant robot. He finds Kim at his back more often than not, less eager to help rebuild but unwilling to let him out of her sight for long. She makes snarky commentary about the sense of community the whole event has fostered and reminds him darkly that everyone will forget this in a month. Jason's not as pessimistic, but he lets her talk and hopes that she's wrong.

Trini's under house arrest, having refused to talk about where she was during the whole crisis. Her parents beg and yell and scold and eventually throw their hands up in the air and tell her that she's not allowed to leave the house until school starts back up again or she's willing to tell them what she was doing. Somehow, Trini's mom convinced herself that she was using the entire thing as a convenient distraction to go have sex, or maybe do drugs, or possibly both. When Jason sneaks in through Trini's window at night she rolls her eyes and tells him that she can handle it. He trusts her judgment and tells her that if she needs someone to break her out she knows who to call, and lets her be. Trini's still unsure around them, still walking on eggshells like she expects them to fall apart any minute, and he doesn't know what to do other than give her time. He'd ask Zordon for advice, but he's gotten the distinct impression that maybe Zordon isn't that good at dealing with people either.

Billy sticks to him like glue for a couple days, still not over the fact that they brought him back from the dead. He doesn't seem nearly as affected by the part where he died in the first place, which Jason doesn't understand, but then, there's a lot about Billy he doesn't really understand. Billy's pretty good about explaining the big stuff, like how he doesn't get jokes or how he really needs clear instructions, but he just kind of shrugs when you ask him about feelings. So Jason doesn't ask and lets Billy follow him around and gets people to listen to him when he starts talking about which building husks are too unstable to fix and where the fault lines are. Jason hasn't forgot that first night up at the mine, when Billy looked at a face of rock and knew immediately that it was going to come crashing down on them.

Still, by the end of the week he's feeling pent up and frustrated, so used to being ignored or mocked that the attention he used to revel in is now somehow stifling. His dad still looks at him like he's never seen him before, and his stepmom follows his lead, like she always has. He wants to scream at them that nothing's changed, that nothing ever changed, that he's the same person he was before any of this happened, that if they'd just look at him they'd be able to see that. But he can't say any of that, not unless he wants to sit through the consequences, and so instead he leaves, leaves his house and his town and heads up to the one place he's ever felt truly himself.

He finds Zack on the cliff overlooking the entrance to Zordon's ship.

“Thought you might show up,” Zack says, seeming completely unsurprised to see him. He kicks his leg against the sheer rock face, sending a couple pebbles tumbling down into the water below.

“Yeah?” Jason asks. He doesn't sit down, not sure if he's going to stay. He'd meant to dive down and at least go into the antechamber before the ship, maybe put on his armor, look at his reflection in the water and try to see in it what everyone else seems to see when they look at him. But he can't just abandon Zack, when he hasn't seen him in a week  and Zack seems to have been waiting for him.

“Sure,” Zack says. “Thought you'd be back sooner, honestly.”

“I had to make sure everything was okay in Angel Grove,” Jason says. He kicks a stone of his own down into the ravine and it seems to fall for a long time before finally hitting the surface with an audible plunk and sending waves rippling away from the impact. Jason wonders what he sounds like when he hits the water and how long the ripples marking his passing stay visible.

“Your dad okay?” Zack asks.

“Back to his old self,” Jason says. “How's your mom?”

“Telling me all about the saviors of Angel Grove,” Zack says with a laugh.

Jason laughs too, and they fall into silence. Jason shifts his weight, not sure what to do next. He still doesn't quite know where he stands with Zack, not the way he does with Billy or the girls. For all that he bared his secrets for them all to hear, unprompted and without expecting reciprocation, Zack's still kind of a mystery. Reckless, impulsive, terrible with authority, fiercely protective, surprisingly vulnerable when you're least expecting in. It's an intriguing combination, and a frustrating one. Jason doesn't know how to even start.

Zack lets the silence stretch for a while, lost in his own thoughts. Jason stays standing and wishes he had a tree to lean against. Finally, Zack leans back onto his forearms and looks up at him, eyes half closed. “So,” he says. “What's next?”

Jason considers this, shrugs a little, and says, on a whim more than anything, “You know anything about cars?”

Zack does not, it turns out, know anything about cars. Neither does Jason, really, and the first time they look at what used to be his truck Zack whistles softly. “They weren't kidding, when they said it was an event.”

Jason makes a face. “It was stupid,” he says. He can't even remember why he'd thought it was a good idea, just that it had seemed like one at the time.

“Yeah,” Zack agrees, but he looks almost impressed. “I wish I'd thought of it.”

This makes Jason laugh, though it probably shouldn't. “You're crazy,” he says.

“You already knew that,” Zack says. He runs a hand along the truck's warped frame, fingers dragging across the unsalvageable paint job. Jason laughs some more, and something in him loosens, just a little bit.

*

They meet in Jason's garage every few days, even after school starts back up. Jason pulls up youtube tutorials on his phone and Zack enthusiastically rips out damaged panels and and lays them on the ground and they both argue about what music to play. Jason likes dubstep, loud and rhythmic and all building to an explosive climax. Zack's a classic rock guy, as he explains repeatedly. He likes the genuine emotions in the tracks, prefers live recordings to studio albums, and will go on at length about it if asked. Jason quickly learns not to ask.

They don't talk much. Or, rather, they do, but it's about music and the car, about passing tools over and propping up one side of the truck to get underneath and where to go in order to scavenge the best replacement parts. They argue about old cartoons and almost get into a fist fight about which Disney Princess is the best one. Sometimes Jason's dad wanders out and gives them tips, or points out all the things they're doing wrong, or just leans against the door and watches them, an unreadable expression on his face.

By the time the first frost hits they've got the truck dismantled. It's nothing but a frame, propped up on blocks and jacks, discarded bits of metal and plastic sheeting littering the ground around it. Jason's learned words for things he didn't even know existed and he's got a burn scar down one forearm from the time he and Zack both learned that ranger powers don't include fireproofing and that even super healing leaves scars. They're bruised and scraped, and smell faintly of oil no matter how many showers they take. Jason's ruined more shirts than he can count, and Zack gave up after the second one and started working shirtless, saying he couldn't afford to lose too many. They've both become experts at stalling Jason's dad at the door before he can catch one or the other of them doing something humanly impossible.

School marches on. Jason's not on the football team anymore, but he still has classes to take and finals to study for and detention to attend. The afternoons spent in the garage become less frequent, squeezed in between Jason's schoolwork and Zack's responsibilities to his mom. Apparently the colder weather doesn't agree with her, and Zack alternates between spending his time with her and screaming himself hoarse in the mountains. Jason tries to talk about it with him, a couple times, tries to do his duty as team leader and help Zack through his problems. It invariably ends with fighting, usually with punches thrown, and Jason goes back home feeling angry and helpless and utterly, crushingly useless. After a few tries he gives up and lets Trini do whatever it is that Trini does with Zack when it's just the two of them. It seems to work a lot better than what he was trying, and Jason tries to convince himself that he's more glad that Zack is getting help from someone than he is jealous and frustrated that that someone can't be him. He putters around with the car by himself, but it doesn't feel right, so he lets it sit there, a dismantled husk, and waits for spring.

*

Jason spends a lot of time with Billy that winter. He still isn't fully comfortable in his house, still doesn't like the looks his dad gives him, still doesn't want to listen to his dad and stepmom anxiously discuss his future when they think he can't hear him. His grades aren't stellar, never have been, and he lost his best ticket out of Angel Grove back in August. Jason doesn't know what he's going to do when he graduates either, if he's being honest with himself, but that doesn't mean he wants to sit there and listen to other people judge him for his poor life choices. If he wanted that, he could just go to Zordon, who at least makes up for it by having given him superpowers.

So he hangs out with Billy, when he can. Billy's been going down to the ship several times a week since shortly after Rita's demise, to talk with Zordon and Alpha5, learning about their technology and jerryrigging rough equivalents out of materials actually found on Earth. As winter deepens that means that he ends up spending a lot of his time either immersed in icy water or still dripping wet. Apparently Zordon's species doesn't feel cold, because the ship isn't heated, and by the time December rolls around Billy's on his third doctor's note requiring sickness, this time a chest cold that's left him housebound and coughing like a chainsmoker. Since apparently ranger powers don't protect against germs, Jason stays away and lets Billy send him an endless string of texts about how much he hates being sick and what he's been working on and what he'd like Jason to ask Zordon if he makes it back to the ship before Billy gets better enough to go himself.

He's sitting in his bedroom, idly playing with his power coin, when he hears a knock. “Yeah?” he calls, not getting up.

The door opens, revealing his dad. Jason sticks his power coin under his pillow and raises his eyebrows. “Did you need something?”

“Can I come in?” his dad asks, sounding awkward. “I'd like to talk to you.”

Warily, Jason says, “Are you going to yell at me?”

To his surprise, his dad shakes his head. He still hasn't stepped into Jason's bedroom.

Not at all sure where this is going – and not at all sure how he feels about it – Jason shrugs. “Sure. What did you want to talk about?”

His dad comes into the room, closing the door behind him and dropping into Jason's desk chair. For a minute he just sits there, looking awkward, not quite making eye contact. Jason crosses his arms, waiting. He has to resist the urge to grab the power coin again, feeling a sudden need both for something to fiddle with and for a reassurance that, whatever his dad is about to say, there is something in his life that's important.

Finally his dad sighs. “Look. I know I was hard on you last fall. You messed up and made all of us look bad.”

Jason raises his eyebrows, wondering why he'd even bothered thinking this would be about anything else. “Gonna tell me anything else I didn't already know?” he asks.

His dad scowls. “Are you going to let me finish?”

“Sure, go ahead,” Jason says. “I can probably recite the speech along with you though, so I don't know how necessary this is.”

“That's not... you're not making this easy Jason. You know your stepmother and I only want the best for you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should have bothered asking what I wanted before deciding what the best for me is,” Jason snaps.

“Are you saying you didn't want to keep playing? Because you sure seemed like you wanted that, before you threw all of it away.”

“You have no idea what I want,” Jason says. He doesn't want to be here, having this conversation yet again, getting confirmation he really doesn't need that he and his dad are never going to see eye to eye about, well, anything. “You never have.”

“Apparently not,” his dad says. He grimaces, shaking his head. “This isn't how I meant for this to go.”

“What, you thought this would be the time I'd agree with you, or give you a nice packaged explanation that you want to hear?” It's an effort to keep from yelling. He reaches out and grabs the first thing his fingers touch, which happens to be an old ballpoint. He grips it hard enough that the plastic splinters in his fist, soaking his fingers in old ink. He barely notices. “Well sorry to break it to you, but I can't do that. I'm never going to be what you want, and it'll be easier for all of us when you finally get that. It's not happening.” He stands, ready to get out of this room by any means necessary, including jumping out the window if he really has to.

“You're wrong,” his dad says, also standing. He holds out his hands, almost pleadingly, but Jason is in no mood to let him try and diffuse the situation. Before he can try and leave, his dad adds, “And so was I. Jason, please, listen to me.”

Not wanting to but unable to help himself, Jason stays where he is.

“You're right, I didn't understand. I still don't. But I wanted you to know, I'm proud of you. You've grown up a lot this year.”

Jason blinks. Almost despite himself, he starts laughing. “You picked a hell of a way to say it,” he says.

His dad sighs, though some of the tension has drained from his frame, now that the words are out in the open. “We never have been able to talk to each other, have we?” he asks.

“Not really,” Jason agrees, still laughing a little.

“Guess we'll have to work on that,” his dad says. When Jason opens his mouth to protest he adds, “Later. I think we've done enough damage for today.”

“I'll say,” Jason agrees, but he finds that some of his anger has faded. He still doesn't want to be here, but the all consuming urge to run has faded a bit. He opens his clenched fists, letting the plastic splinters that used to be a perfectly innocent pen fall to the ground. His dad raises his eyebrows at that but doesn't comment. Instead he makes to leave the room.

“Oh, and one more thing?” he says, hand on the door handle.

“Yeah?” Jason asks, wary once again.

“Try to do something with the car before summer?”

“I'll see what I can do,” Jason says. His dad nods and leaves the room. Jason can hear a muffled thump as he sags against the wall just outside, and the rush of breath as he lets out a long sigh of relief. For a long moment Jason stays where he is, staring at the mostly closed door. Then he shakes his head, decides that he can process what just happened later and, not caring who might see, pulls open his window and jumps out, sticking the landing almost perfectly.

“Hey Siri,” he says, vaulting the low fence easily. “Text Kim, will you?”

By the time he reaches the trail overlooking Zordon's ship Kim is already waiting, phone in one hand and latte in the other. She looks up, takes one look at his expression and drains her coffee in a single gulp. “Parents?” she asks.

“Parents,” he agrees.

“Want to go break some holographic alien faces?”

In answer he turns and dives headfirst into the freezing lake, Kim following a beat later.

*

Zack wanders back in late February, showing up randomly at Jason's house one day like nothing had changed. He doesn't hesitate at the door, just steps into the garage, a half smirk on his face like he's daring Jason to say something about it. Jason raises his eyebrows. “About time you showed back up,” he says. “I thought you didn't like me anymore, man.”

Zack shrugs, spreading out his hands in a gesture of entirely insincere innocence. “What can I say,” he says. “Apparently even jerks with terrible taste in music can grow on you.”

Jason's torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to punch him and wanting to give him a hug and never let go. He chucks a rag at him instead, throwing it harder than the situation probably warrants. Zack snatches it easily out of the air with one hand. “So,” he says, making his way closer to the car's skeleton. “Managed to get anything done without me?”

It takes them a while to get back into the swing of things. They've forgotten how to move around each other, forgotten exactly what they were doing and how they'd been doing it. They bump into each other and step on each other's toes and get in each other's way, all accompanied by an endless back and forth as they argue and take swipes at each other. It should probably be deeply uncomfortable, this vivid reminder of an easy closeness now gone, but it reminds Jason more of how it used to be with the football team, at the beginning of the season, before the first big game of the year, when they're all on edge and on top of one another and tempers are running high. He remembers almost decking his best friend once, before an important game, because his friend said something stupid about Jason's taste in pizza. He's always been better at doing than at talking, and it's almost a relief to find himself back on familiar ground.

He watches Zack as they work, glances over at him when he thinks Zack's not looking or when he needs to get his attention. Zack's lost weight over the winter, and his hair's longer, less perfectly groomed than it used to be, like he didn't care enough to style it. He looks tired, exhausted even, for all that he moves with his usual fervor. The team captain and the red ranger in him come to the same conclusion almost simultaneously, but Zack shakes his head when Jason starts to ask.

“Don't,” he says. “Please.”

It's quiet, stripped of his usual sarcasm and bombast. Jason's only really heard him use that tone of voice once before, when he first told them all about his mom, what feels like a million years ago. He nods. “Okay,” he says. Then, “You gonna stand there all day looking pretty or are you going to hand me that wrench?”

Zack throws the wrench in question, sending it spinning end over end in a perfect arc. Jason catches it neatly in his palm and turns back to the bolt currently resisting even his superstrength.

*

Zack keeps coming. Not every day, not even as often as he did in the fall, but he comes. They go on trips to junkyards together, sometimes with Jason's dad tagging along to act as a consultant, sometimes by themselves. Between Jason's allowance money and Zack's haggling skills they pick up most of what they need, lugging it home under the cover of night when fewer people are around to question why two teenagers can carry a truck roof panel by themselves or why Zack's got two tires in each hand and is still managing a light jog. They tell Jason's dad that they've got a friend with a van, which isn't entirely untrue, just not quite current information.

Slowly the truck comes together. They learn to work together again, unconsciously moving around each other, handing over tools before they can be requested, throwing and catching various tools and car parts without pausing in their conversations. Jason's dad still comes out to watch them sometimes, watching silently as his son and his son's best friend work together like a well oiled partnership. What he thinks of it Jason doesn't know and, not wanting to break the fragile truce they've managed to forge, he doesn't ask.

Jason's stepmom starts asking Zack to stay for dinner; after a month of polite excuses Zack starts accepting. He makes small talk with Jason's family, compliments his stepmom on her cooking and, when told that it's usually Jason's dad, compliments him without missing a beat. Jason's little sister is fascinated by him, which he seems to find hilarious, while Jason's stepmom plies him with questions about his interests and his future plans, which he takes with less aplomb. By the second or third time he stays late, Jason's pretty sure he's started making stuff up just to see if she'll notice. She doesn't.

“I didn't know you were so good at parents,” Jason says, one night when he's walking Zack home. He doesn't go the full way back to the trailer park – Zack's twitchy about any of them knowing where he lives, probably worried they'll start climbing through his window like they do everyone else's – but he usually at least walks to the old mine, far enough out of Angel Grove to reassure himself that it's not the only place in the world.

“I'm good at a lot of things,” Zack says. Jason can't see his face but he would be money that Zack's got that smirk on his face.

“Wish I'd known earlier,” he says. “I'd have made you come by a lot sooner. Do you know how many times they asked if they'd done something to offend you? 'We just want to make sure we haven't accidentally insulted him,' they said. 'You know, because of cultural differences.' If I'd known you were that good at smoothing stuff over I'd have let you do the explaining.”

“I was born in Los Angeles,” Zack points out, no little dryly.

“Try telling my stepmom that sometime,” Jason says. “It might do her some good.”

“You tell her,” Zack says. “She's your mom.”

“No she's not,” Jason says automatically, and then regrets it. “I mean, she is, but she's also not, you know?”

Zack doesn't answer. Instead he says, “I don't feel like working on the car tomorrow. Want to go beat up some alien monsters?”

Jason raises his eyebrows. “Armor or not?” he wants to know, though the answer doesn't really matter.

“Depends,” Zack says. “You more interested in beating their asses or mine?”

Jason laughs. “I can't have both?” he asks.

“You wish you could have my ass,” Zack responds, and Jason can just hear the shit-eating grin on his face. “Tomorrow at four?”

“Oh, I'll be there,” Jason promises. “I think someone needs reminding of who's in charge around here.”

“That would be Zordon,” Zack says, and Jason reaches out to punch him lightly on the shoulder. Zack's not quite where Jason thought he was, but he gets close enough that Zack swipes back, and then they're running, racing towards the mine and the cliffs it created, leaping over fallen trees and stones as they try to catch each other. By the time Zack splits off to go the rest of the way to his house they're both slightly winded and probably going to have bruises from the times they did manage to land hits. Jason sticks his hands in his pockets and heads back home, the last remnants of the adrenaline-fueled manic grin still on his lips.

*

They finally take the car out for a test drive in late April. It doesn't look new, not by a long shot, a combination of their inexperience as mechanics and the parts they were able to scrounge. The paint job's uneven because they ran out of red halfway through and couldn't find more cans of the same shade, and some of the bolts holding the new panels in place stick out obviously, but it runs and it looks like a truck again, and really that's what counts. Jason drives out of Angel Grove, taking the car up and down the twisting mountain roads to test its handling. Zack, leaning back in his seat with one hand sticking out the open window, rolls his eyes at Jason's caution in taking the turns. “You're driving like Billy's mom,” he says. “What happened to the guy who tried to beat a train?”

Jason twists a little to raise his eyebrows at Zack. “You want to drive?” he asks. “Because it sounds like you want to be driving right now.”

Zack straightens, grinning. “Pull over,” he says, and Jason does so.

“Do you even have a driver's license?” Jason wants to know as he and Zack swap seats.

“Not on me,” Zack says, almost daring Jason to object. Jason thinks, briefly, about how much his hard earned good reputation will go out the window if he crashes again and shrugs.

“We get caught, I'm telling the cops that it's your fault,” he says.

Zack doesn't answer, just settles himself in the driver's seat. “Hold onto your ass,” he says, and pushes down on the gas.

Zack takes the mountain roads like someone who's done this hundreds of times, takes corners tightly enough to make even Jason, with his super healing and adrenaline junkie tendencies nervous, coaxes the truck to faster speeds that Jason had honestly thought physically possible for a car that old. He whoops, wishing they'd thought to make the truck a convertible, or at least install a sunroof.

“No wonder you thought you could drive the zords,” he yells, pitching his voice over the roar of wind coming in both open windows.

“That was a mistake and I already apologized,” Zack yells back, and jerks the wheel especially sharply, sending Jason flopping sideways a little.

“You're not sorry though,” Jason says, straightening.

“I was at the time. Does that count?”

“You know what, sure.”

Zack laughs, loud and free, and sends the car careening down a hill. Before them the road turns, running along a cliff. Jason knows this road – it skirts the far edge of the gold mine, marking a hard boundary for how far the miners could expand. A short distance away they can see the other side of the ravine, this same road snaking its way back to the main Interstate.

“Think we can make it?” Zack asks, not slowing in the slightest.

“Not a chance,” Jason says.

“Want to try anyway?”

“If we wreck my car a second time I'm making you do all the work of getting it home,” Jason says, which is not at all the same thing as 'no.' Zack laughs again and urges the car forward even faster.

*

(“What were you thinking?” Jason's dad wants to know, once the cops have left, satisfied that no one got hurt and that the only property damage was to Jason's truck, which is once again wrecked. Jason's not sure who called them; probably a passing car that thought they were going to die horribly. They got a lecture about being stupid on the road and a three hundred dollar ticket for reckless driving, but he doesn't have to go back to court and his house arrest isn't extended, so on the whole he'll call it a victory.

Jason and Zack glance at each other, neither quite managing even an attempt at looking repentant. “We need better tires?” Jason offers, at the same time as Zack says, “The laws of physics are a cruel mistress?”

Jason's dad looks from one to the other, then over at the car. His face goes through a series of conflicting emotions until finally settling on resigned. Jason expects him to yell, or at least lecture, but instead he only says, “At least no one got hurt this time.” He holds up a hand to forestall Jason's inevitable reaction. “Don't get me wrong, it was stupid and you two are damn lucky to be alive, but all things considered it could be worse. I'll take it. You'll need this though.” As he talks he reaches into his wallet and pulls out a business card, which he holds out to them. Jason takes it and laughs; it's for a local towing company, the same one that had dealt with Billy's mom's van so many months previously.

He turns back to his car, making it clear that they were on their own for getting home. Before he gets in, he pauses and adds, “Oh, and Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“You don't need better tires, you need better suspension. If you're going to be dumb, at least be smart about it.”)

[jaxxonpollux]

notes for vivien during her leave of absence

i’m writing this mostly to talk myself down from going crazy. i don’t know what my problem is. you’d think i’d be able to handle a girl being gone for a week; and i mean, i definitely COULD, if you had said something like “hey, i’m going on a yoga retreat for a month, toodles,” not just disappeared. it’s the unknown that makes me feel nuts, like the possibilities that just bore into my head. i’ve written a mental list like a million times wondering what could have happened, trying to figure out the most likely possibility. we talked about trump. you went to do laundry. then nothing. and i definitely have a void, and i keep feeling like i should do something. write a letter. hop on a plane. call you at various times of the day (maybe you dropped your phone into the couch and just can’t find it?). 

at the same time, i do recognize how pathetic it is. it’s like, symptoms of a guy just after being dumped. sending constant affectionate support messages and all that, whiny messages. “miss you, sending my prayers! sending good energy! hope all is well” i honestly hate being that way, even if the feeling is genuine. i want to be more stoic, aloof, nonchalant, casual, not fretting and biting my nails and whining and moping and all that. maybe they’re just thoughts i should keep to myself. maybe there are a lot of things i do and say i should just keep inside. i don’t think they’re very flattering. they’re all things i wish people would do and say for me, i think, which is why i do them, kind of like a “treat others the way you’d like to be treated” mentality. it really is sorta gross. i just need to be affectionate in more subtle ways. here i am again, stuck in my own head.

i do hope you’re okay. and i hope you realize i’ll understand no matter what’s going on. even if it’s a situation that like, sucks for me, like you got back together with b or something. which is something i half expect a lot of the time anyway, even though i really don’t quite know how the two of you get along, what the story really is. i’m just always ready for it. in any case, i’m still fine with being a platonic friend, i mean, we do really get along, you have to admit that. even if we’re not meant to be together. “meant to be.” another strange term for a strange thought. i know i was thinking about stuff like that a lot before you were gone, whether or not you liked me the way i liked you. always this fear of my affection being reciprocated. or like it rapidly started to wane after i came back from miami. i don’t know.

the same thing happened with ainsley, my disney channel girlfriend? i went to see her in plano, we were stuck in bed with each other all day every day. we’d go to the museum and she’d just want to go back home and lie in bed together again. we’d go to a movie, i’d feel a little sick, and we’d leave early, go back home and lie in bed (i think the movie was the grudge 2. didn’t miss it). and we’d be in bed all day under her parents watchful eyes, it was a little embarrassing really! but i remember she had her head in my lap in the backseat when her mom was driving me back to the airport, when i was leaving. i had her listen to mad rush, by philip glass on my ipod, she nearly fell asleep. it was appropriately sad, and sweet. it was a real Boyfriend and Girlfriend thing to do. it felt like the type of scene that belonged in a normal long distance relationship, the longing creeping in just as the good part came to end. always in contact with each other, feeling as much of each other as possible while we could, so we could save the feeling until the next time.

she broke up with me about a week or two after i got back to ohio. and it makes you really reflect back on everything with like, extreme paranoia. like if she was thinking about it the entire time you were together, or if she was just putting it off and ignoring it. was she thinking about it when we had sex in the shower? was she thinking about it when she was showing me old acting videos she did as a younger teenager? at the movies? at the museum? maybe staying in bed all that time, spending all the time together that we did, the closeness, maybe it was just her saying goodbye. and that’s the kind of thing that drags around behind you for years, not the breakup. all the wonderings and questions without answers. it’s probably why i still think about her, even ten years later. just in reflection, not in a pining tortured way. but wondering what it meant for me, how it shaped me, what it really meant. another one of those “mysteries of life,” or something.

i felt like coming to miami was the beginning of something. but maybe it was the end. shows how intuitive i actually am, huh? pisces boy, head in the clouds. sweaterboy, always trying to please, never thinking of himself. at the very least, that memory of staying with you in that hotel room is gonna be with me for a long time, no matter if it was the beginning or the end. even if you decided you’re done with me, even if you’re with b again, even if you’re locked up in an insane asylum, even if your head got lopped off, even if you’re an alien and had to go back to your home planet, that weekend meant a lot to me. i don’t know how many weekends you’ve had like that with other people, probably loads, but it was special for me. and i’m gonna be in my deathbed looking at my palms, trying to remember what you told me about my lifeline being so long, or my love line disappearing into nothing.

anyway, what else should i write for you? i had to go to work in about an hour, so i have at least another hour of writing, huh. we’re getting all that focaccia ready for trump tomorrow. we also have a small plate up for about 370 people, and i have to make my “famous” giant lavash crackers for the trump thing too. apparently they split up the culinary folks into two different teams for the trump thing, since we’re all gonna be trapped in the battelle ballroom all day to prepare for it. i’m on the team headed by “chef frank,” who has been described to me as our “corporate chef,” i.e. the boss of my boss. visiting to be in the presence of the president. he’s a very judgmental, pig-headed italian man, but luckily i have an agreeable personality and kiss his ass enough that he doesn’t bother me. my coworker, however, ambyr, goes ballistic whenever she hears he’s in the building. ambyr is like one of those millenial names we were making fun of, isn’t it? jaxxon. madeighsonne. anyway, it’ll be a hell of a day on friday.

--

i finished all of mad men too. i was SO happy pete and trudy got back together, honestly just happy for trudy. i have a crush on trudy, especially late-game trudy. don’t judge me. and pete was honestly still pretty weird and pathetic, i wouldn’t have gone for it if i was her but EH. pete was doing ok with that real estate girl but he kinda botched it by being a workaholic, she had a short attention span it seemed.

what else? glen and betty was creepy and semi-sweet at the same time, as usual, with him all like “YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN MY BITCH >:)” and betty like “:) no no :)” like not really that aggressive and probably totally down for it under different circumstances. anyway, i’m sure glen died at war, and poor sally! just got dumpstered on, that was the real shame. betty just fading off into cancer town. bobby never got to grow up. harry never got to have any character development either, just stayed terrible. ken kind of turned bitter? with his eyepatch, that reminded me of you too.

and then ol’ don. kind of upset that stephanie didn’t stick around and have a whole litter of his babies or whatever, and i was half expecting don to be swept back into that traveling bohemian millionaire genius group again. instead he ended up at a hippie retreat. was the implication that don wrote that hippie coke ad? for crummy mcann? i was kind of expecting him to die tbh. shrug, well good for him, i guess. bert ghost was sorta odd, i didn’t realize don even gave a shit about bert.

and joan had a sad ending too!! oh UGH i was SOOO upset when they introduced her old man “boyfriend” like in the last few episodes, i knew it as soon as i saw him. like oh great, here comes the last minute savior for joan right at the very end of the show, what a stupid cop out. glad he was muscled out at the last second by joan’s massive business dong. she has bigger fish to fry! and then she goes and asks preggy to be a partner with her, and preggy goes and says NAH at the very end. i was like, so what the hell happened to joan then? hopefully she just got to be a millionaire the rest of her life and moved to paris or something.

preggy and what’s his face romance was sort of contrived. and a long time coming. like good for you guys, eye roll, you young idiots. who else? i guess that was everyone important. oh, yeah, roger shacked up with megan’s mom, i don’t blame him, she was pretty hot. i love a bitchy woman. roger’s daughter kinda depressed me, on that stupid hedonism hippie commune. whatever. and yeah, megan became washed up just like you said. she basically like never even acted at all when she moved out the california, that whole thing was a huge mistake.

i guess that’s all for now! mad men wise. i’m at a loss for what to watch next. i think there was some show i told myself i was gonna have YOU watch, but i can’t remember what it was now. it might’ve been something you’ve already seen.

--

i do hope i hear from you again soon, and i’m not still writing stupid posts like this a month from now. but we’ll see. i really miss talking to you. if i don’t hear from you before the weekend, i think i might just keep your birthday present here with me, for fear of it getting lost out in the world. i don’t even know if you’re in miami right now. but there’s a lot of sentimental stuff in this box, and i’m putting a lot of effort into it, because like, the plan was for you to have an ENJOYABLE birthday for a change, right? like, i thought maybe i’d order you some wine and we could watch a move over the phone and just have a regular date night, not even think about birthday stuff. and you’d just have this big box of random little surprises that i’d have spoiled you with. and it would just be nice and not a headache.

i think you’ll be 31? sorry if the number makes you cringe. honestly the attitude you have towards aging really makes no sense to me. it must be a woman thing. like, i understand feeling like you’re not fulfilling your goals on a healthy timeline, but i feel that like, every ducking day, and i don’t think that’s what bothers you. i think you just don’t wanna feel and look old right?

i’ve said it a million times, but you’re so beautiful to me, and you will still be beautiful at 31. or 35, or 45, or 99. you have all these wonderful features right now that are so attractive, your big blue eyes, your tiny blushing nose, your incredible nefertiti neck, your scrappy scarecrow straw hair. your legs and thighs are so soft and luscious and warm, your butt is full and round and really cute, you’ve got bones that point and poke out at the shoulders and elbows and things that remind me how small your upper body is. your voice is still my favorite ever. and when you get older, you’re gonna still have a lot of these things, you know? they might be different, but they’ll still be beautiful and wonderful and You, and you’ll have brand NEW features too that’ll be just as endearing. i always think of like, creepy old men staring at old women licking their lips like “mm-mm she’s a looker,” and wondering, wow, i guess an old man’s tastes really change as he grows older too. or like, they just appreciate things more, or they know what beauty looks like even when it gets kinda wrinkly and gray.

plus, knowing you, you’re gonna keep things up as high as possible for a very long time. you’re not just gonna attract older men, you’ll have like, college guys trying to climb up and mount you when you’re 60 years old. you’re gonna have the air of like, a whorehouse madam, no longer in the game but still incredibly sexy and intelligent, with every single trick still up her sleeve and too much dignity to ever use them except in extreme circumstances. smarter than any man you’ve ever encountered, and always ready to swing the dagger. you’re going to be different flavors of beautiful every decade that passes by, and i never want you to feel like getting older is a detriment. biological clock bothering you? uh i’ll come knock you up right now if that’s an issue, i’m down for it

maybe things get out of hand at 6am, i’ve been up all night. gotta get ready for work in about 20-25 minutes. please be safe, please come back. i promise not to wait forever, but you’ll always be a part of me now.