#god i did my first translations two and a half years ago. sounds CRAZY when you put it like that

[vynegar]

"Albie" (main story 11-21)

At the end of Episode 11 (Part 1), we find out that "Albie" is simply a name that Vyn made up on the spot when Rosa asked. He may have been inspired by his own birth name, Vilhelm Richard Albert de Haspran.

In Chinese, Vyn choose the name "阿明". "阿" is a prefix used to form nicknames, "明" can be a name but also means "bright, clear". In Vyn's Romantic Rail Getaway card "Food for Thought", he tells us the meaning of his name:

You can see the character 明 appear in the word 明亮 ("bright"), although 明 is such a common character that I wouldn't say that this Chinese text alone is enough is sufficient evidence to show the connection between the two names. It's the way that the "Albie" and "阿明" happen to coincide in the name "Albert", which made me take note of Vyn's "careless" choice in name.

If the Chinese name was intended to subtly reference "Albert", I can certainly imagine imagine this as one way to preserve that reference through translation, even if it becomes more obvious. We do have an example of the translation preserving plot-relevant wordplay in a name: Lowe Leare ("Lowly"), originally 萧仁 ("小人", both pronounced "xiao ren" but with different tones). However, there's also an incident of a plot-relevant name being missed through translation, though it was in an event (not the main story) that probably foreshadowed a distant plot point and had infamously bad translation issues.

Anyway, it remains possible that "Albie" is a coincidence. However, after Vyn and Rosa wrap up their conversation about Albie's name, the narration makes a comment on the importance of that moment:

It isn't until the whole case is settled that you are surprised to realize something... You had briefly touched on the key to cracking the case at this very moment.

...which at least gives me enough confidence to not feel silly writing up a whole post about it. We've only seen part of this case, and there's a lot of mystery still surrounding Vyn's behavior so I don't have any definitive hypotheses on why Vyn might have chosen his own name for Albie. Is there something that made Vyn seen himself in Albie? Did the delinquent's attitude remind Vyn of the cruel, stratified world that he was born in? Is he reminded of how people who have imperfections will be tossed aside and abandoned? I guess we'll see when part 2 of this episode is released.

[aprilsrant]

Cariad | Young!Remus Lupin x Slytherin!Fem!Reader.

SUMMARY: (Y/N) absolutely hates when professors make their students work in pairs, but the outcome of this particular project may not be so bad.

WORD COUNT: 2,971, more or less.

REQUEST: can i request another half-blood slytherin reader x remus where she tries to learn welsh for him and i hope you can include smth with the lovespoon! 

This was requested by @cantstopmebitch Thank you so much for requesting something, I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: a kiss? And nothing else I think.

A/N: Please remember English is not my first language, so if there are any mistakes, let me know! In this fic, I’ve used some Welsh words, which I didn’t know a single thing about so I did some research but it may be wrong, so sorry if these are not correct! 

Masterlist.

You can always reblog to help me or request something you’ll like. 

TRANSLATIONS: the title, cariad, means “love, affection, lover, darling”; the phrase fy annwyl un means “my dear one”; and the last one, fy nghariad aur  means “my golden darling”.

Advanced Arithmancy Studies, or simply Arithmancy, was not the most interesting subject Hogwarts offered as an elective course for sixth and seventh years, hence why there weren’t many people taking it, but (Y/N) seemed to be a natural — according to the professor’s opinion — and she loved being good at things without trying too much or else she would lose any interest immediately.  

Sitting down on one of the desks at the back of the classroom, she left her brown leather satchel on the cobblestone floor. (Y/N) watched as the students took their usual seats and started to chat with their partner, but all conversations were shut down by the loud voice of the professor, an old and strict woman who didn’t seem to have control of her voice’s volume as she was always screaming and someone who didn’t have any consideration with those who forgot to do her assignments. 

The minute the woman’s body was an inch inside the classroom, she began to give directions about a project expected for next week and how they would have to work in pairs, (Y/N)’s eyes rolling to the back of her head upon hearing the news. She absolutely detested working with other people for two reasons: the first one being that, if they happen to be from a different House, they would judge her for being a Slytherin; and the second, because she was always the one ending up doing it all on her own, but that was mostly her fault. She wanted to be in control all the time if it was something related to school. 

Once again, (Y/N) was observing how some of her classmates changed desks so they could work with whoever they wanted. No one took the empty seat beside her. She never minded being alone in this class (none of her close friends capable of dealing with the intensity of it or not being too interested in numbers), she was not going to start now. It was better anyways, not having a partner meant less headaches. 

But, apparently, the odds were not in her favor.

A diveleshed looking Remus Lupin crossed the entrance door with his arms full of books, parchments and quills; uniform poorly accommodated and a sad dog look on his eyes, definitely trying to avoid the professor’s rage for being late. His lips curved into a hesitant smile, that to (Y/N)’s opinion came out more as a grimace, and when she thought they all were about to hear a pathetic and improvised excuse from Perfect Remus, the old witch shook her hand into a dismissive gesture and signalised the wooden chair next to the Slytherin girl while she informed him about the task. 

Now that Lupin was beside her, shoulders almost touching, she took a closer look at him. (Y/N) had the impression he was sick because of the dark circles below his dull brown eyes, his skin a lot more paler than usual, and the small noise that left his mouth once he sat down, like his chest hurted. She had also noticed scratches and scars on his neck and cheeks, but kept quiet about them too. It wasn’t her place to ask. 

The first ten minutes passed slowly, neither of them uttering a word, and listening to the expectations the professor had for the project. Well, more like (Y/N) was the one actually listening, because Remus was busy running through his things while leaving them scattered all around their shared desk and muttering curses under his breath. She watched him with a weirded out expression on her face, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing with her mouth pressed on a thin line, while he read the first lines of a parchment and then, obviously not being what he was looking for, leaving it on her side. 

“You forgot the essay, didn’t you?,” she leaned closer to him and whispered in the boy’s ear. He turned around to look at her, but it wasn’t necessary for him to confirm it, (Y/N) already knew she was right. 

Picking her satchel from the floor, she took her own assignment, grabbed one piece of empty parchment and, making sure the professor wasn’t looking in their direction, she muttered a spell under her breath. Instantly, the black paragraphs on her paper copied and travelled to the empty one. With another flick of her wand, some of the words transformed, other changed places and a few of them even disappeared. Grabbing one of Lupin’s parchment that had his calligraphy, and corroborating once more the old witch had her back turned to them, (Y/N) copied his writing style to transfer it to the parchment she had just enchanted. With a proud smile on her face, she handed it to him. 

Lupin’s face was now a little brighter, of course he still had those horrendous bags, but it was an improvement. His eyes wide and shining with interest, his face less tired and his mouth opened in surprise. 

“How did you do that?”

“One of my cousins taught me. Him and his friends had been perfectioning this spell for a long time now,” she mumbled, trying not to catch the other’s attention, while she shrugged her shoulders. 

“That was amazing,” an astonish sound accompanying his words, “thank you, by the way, for helping me.”

“Oh no, I don’t accept thank you’s.” (Y/N) sat straighter on her chair, beaming at him while she crossed one of her legs on top of the other. Before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she spoke again. ”I did you a favor, now you owe me one.”

And after that particular conversation, Remus’s and (Y/N)’s destinies were sealed in an unbreakable and everlasting bond.

That following week was spent in the safety of the Room of Requirement, the place where none of their friends would bother them if they happened to see them together, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, working together. (Y/N) believed it was stupid at first, not going to the library because someone may or may not catch them in such a forbiden act, but it was all forgotten when the idea that she could become the next target for one of their pranks popped in her head. She had seen what they’ve done to other housemates and she never wanted to be in the receiving end of one. 

The way the Room looked was another major point in why they continued to meet there. (Y/N) had never visited but she had heard about it and how it changed according to your needs. Right now, the chamber resembled a greenhouse, more beautiful than the ones where they had Herbology with Professor Sprout. All kinds of plants covered the walls (not one was the same as the next), coloured carpets underneath old white marble statues and high columns of the same material, reminding her of all the times she’d read a book about Ancient Greece and it’s Gods. In the middle of the Room were two dark red divans, contrasting against the green on the rest of the place, surrounded by piles of books — (Y/N) had the feeling they were all about Arithmancy and Numerology — and, in the centre, a small coffee table made of wood. 

Not even after hours of working in the assignment they were able to finish it in that afternoon. Both of them were perfectionists, ending up in some small arguments about how they should approach certain topics but had also pushed them in coming up with better and more interesting ideas. No one could deny the pair worked marvelously, complementing each other.

To (Y/N)’s astonishment, Remus Lupin didn’t fit the ideal her mind had set a long time ago for Gryffindors. All the ones she’d encountered were boisterous, incredibly annoying, short-tempered and just general prats. The boy with whom she had spent a whole afternoon was utterly the opposite and (Y/N) would’ve discovered that earlier if she’d hadn’t been so prejudiced.  

The day the assignment was due to, arrived quickly than expected and with it came a sudden and small pang of sadness that startled her. 

When she sat down beside Remus, he had made sure of arriving extra early to compensate the professor for the week before, the boy perceived something was off — his superpower according to his three best friends, he was always capable of reading a person perfectly, even if they hadn’t known each other for too long — because of how she was acting, trying too hard to show an unbothered facade but not hard enough for him to not notice.

The truth was (Y/N) didn’t want this class to start since once it was over so would the partnership with Remus. She had enjoyed his calm and warm company, sometimes a little crazy, in the Room Requirement while they worked on the project. And she was one hundred percent sure she would miss the moments when they both agreed on taking a break after many hours of reading and began to talk about nothing and everything, all at once. Was she supposed to forget that he always carried one chocolate inside his bag, and that he’d started to bring one more after their first afternoon studying together? Was (Y/N) expected to ignore the fact Remus wanted to become a professor because he liked the idea of being there for young people in case they needed someone? Was this girl meant to fail to remember about how this boy had asked his mum to teach him Welsh so they, mother and son, could have one more thing in common? 

When the professor dismissed them, not without praising (Y/N)’s and Remus’s essay first, he noticed the girl next to him hadn’t even smiled at the mention of how perfect they’d worked. Now he knew for sure something was wrong with her and Remus Lupin was not the kind of person who saw his friends feeling down and did nothing about it. 

Following her across the corridor, he tried to catch her attention but she was either not listening or down right ignoring him. Finally being able to reach her, Remus grabbed her arm softly and called her name in a whisper. She turned around, head low and eyes fixated on her jet black loafers, not looking at him. 

“Are you alright? Because if something happened, you can talk to me,” Remus asked in a faint voice, almost swallowed by the noise the other students in the hallway were making, moving his hand towards her shoulder and rubbing tenderly the fabric of her grey sweater that covered her skin, “I know we hadn’t been friends for too long, but you can come to me for anything you may need.”

(Y/N) raised her head after hearing the last part.

“We are?” An incredulous look appearing on her face. “We are friends?”

“Of course we are, (Y/N),” Remus announced while letting out a snicker, as if the thought of the two of them not being friends sounded ridiculous in his mind, “I wouldn’t have shared my chocolate with you if we weren’t. And as a half blood… you are one of the few people who actually understands my movie or book references from the muggle world.”

Her mood better now that she knew Remus considered her a friend and for once since she initiated her education at Hogwarts, she was glad the Arithmancy professor had made them work in pairs.

|||

Weeks and months passed by, and with each one of them the friendship between Remus and (Y/N) grew stronger. There were still several things the Gryffindor was not ready to discuss, like him being a werewolf, his other friends becoming animagi to help him during the nights of a full moon; the creation of the Marauder’s Map and how much he wanted to kiss her whenever she began to ramble about a subject she was really passionate about. He kept quiet, and for several months he came up with excuses, not only for the scars and the nights on the Infirmary, but for the random loss of concentration every time she was too closed to him, cracking up a joke or cursing at the professors for thinking they couldn’t have five minutes without being buried in assignments and deadlines. 

His feelings, unknown to him, were not one sided. 

(Y/N) wasn’t one to go for the boys she liked, she was used to just admiring them from afar, never making the effort to start a conversation and she was fine with it. But Remus was a whole other story. She knew him, and his fears, and the books he would read over and over again, and how much of a good friend and amazing person he was. And all of that made it even harder for her to take that quick but impossible last step. Her friends had been trying to make her pursue him since the moment the Firewhisky in her system led her to overshare. They’d said he felt the same and for a moment she believed it, but long nights of overthinking convinced her that Remus was just being kind to her, his specialty.

She tried to push her feelings away, to calm her heart that couldn’t stop jumping whenever she saw him smiling, to control the sweat on her hands every time he whispered something funny in her ear; to put a stop to the flips her stomach suffered the moment he said her name; to even her breathing on the occasions he would utter random Welsh words — one of the reason why she started to learn the language four months after their friendship began —  to see her confused expression. 

One night after a long and stressful day in the midst of their seventh and last year at Hogwarts, while the last quarter moon shined down from above them and illuminated her features, Remus Lupin decided he would honor the reason he was supposed to be in Gryffindor.

Taking a small object from the pocket of his trousers and releasing a shaky breath, he took (Y/N)’s hand to catch her attention. She turned around, looking away momentarily from the moon and the stars, the things she admired the most, grinning softly at him with such alluring eyes.

“I don’t know how to say this and what I’m doing is barely planned, and so many things could wrong but…,” Remus started, taking a large gulp of air before talking again, “I can’t help myself with you sitting there like that.”

She didn’t respond, understanding there was something bugging him and that it was crying out for someone to just let it out.

“I like you and not as a friend, I mean, yes, I do like you as a friend but I also like you as much more than that,” he confessed briskly, shortly after closing his eyes and chewing his bottom lip, “and I did this for you.”

(Y/N) took the tiny object silently, not knowing what to say, and held it up towards the sky so the moon would cast a light upon it. 

The minute she realised what it was, she confirmed that Remus’s feelings were the same as hers. With a large smile on her face, she traced her fingers delicately across the wooden figure. It had an intricate design, with two hearts in the middle and two fine lines lacing with each other, reminding her of a simple braid. On top of the heart, were three threads forming a knot.

“It’s a lovespoon, isn’t it?,” she mumbled just to be sure this was all truly happening. Remus nodded, still not knowing if she liked him too, “It’s gorgeous, Rem.” 

Locking eyes with her, he didn’t need her to say she liked him back because he already knew the answer. (Y/N)’s eyes were brimming with a few tears, holding such intense emotions and staring at him the way his mum did whenever his dad was in front of her. 

“I like you too, fy annwyl un,” she confessed back. A laugh escaped his mouth while he shook his head.

“Since when do you know Welsh, fy nghariad aur?”

“I learned it to impress someone.”

Remus leaned his body closer towards her, putting his hand over her cheek and running his thumb gracefully across it. Both of them shift their weight at the same time to be nearer each other. 

(Y/N)’s heart shaking violently in her chest, anticipating what was going to be her first kiss. 

“Remember that favor you owe me since last year?,” she reminded him. Their warm breaths mixing, lips so close and yet so far away. Remus nodded slightly as his hand descended from her cheek to caress cautiously one of her bottom lip’s corners. His other hand travelled to the back of her head, intertwining slowly with her hair, “well, I’m asking for it now.”

He smiled while their lips brushed against one another. Taking the lead, Remus finally pressed their mouths together. And it was everything and so much more than she had ever imagined. Eyes closed but still capable of seeing a mixture of red bright fireworks and shining stars.

One of her hands, the one clutching the lovespoon tightly, stayed put on his arm, while the other moved towards his neck, not knowing where else to leave it. Instantly, Remus dropped his hand from her cheeks to her waist, pulling her closer and almost sitting her on top of his lap. He moved her head slightly backwards, making (Y/N) to open his lips more and allowing him to explore her mouth with his tongue. 

None of them cared about what the rest of the school would think when they entered the Great Hall, hand in hand, a dark brown lovespoon decorating (Y/N)’s satchel.

Under the moonlight, no one else had felt more alive than them.

[theloneliestshipper]

What about a Soulmate or red string of fate AU for Leia and Boba?

I actually had multiple requests for this one. I came up with a premise years ago for this and yet writing it out only made me realize how hard it would be to get these two stubborn, independent people to buy into it. I dragged them as far as I could, I swear. 

AO3 Link

“It’s Mandalorian.” Her father’s voice was hushed. He sounded worried. “I recognize the lettering.”

“Could we have it translated?”

Leia rubbed her leg just above her knee as she listened to her parents whispering outside her door. The darker patch of skin had always been there. Her mother said she always had. It was only after her tenth birthday that the color began to deepen and the foreign letters began to take shape.

“Yes, but should we?” Her father continued. “This whole business of soulmates, it’s a lot of pressure. Maybe it’s best if she doesn’t know.”

Her mother sounded uncertain. “There’s a lot she doesn’t know, Bail. What if this is one thing too many?”

---

“You have a soulmark?” Sabine Wren’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t think it’s crazy?”

“My parents have them...so, no. My dad’s says, “I’m looking” and my mom’s says, “look at this beautiful sight!” My dad was painting a picture of a lake when they met, and he wanted her to look at the view and she wanted to look at him.” Sabine shrugged. “And those were the first words they said to one another. My mom says she was just grateful that hers was in Mando’a.”

Leia fidgeted, keeping an eye out for anyone passing in the hall of the rebel base. “Mine is in Mando’a too.”

“It is? That means it’s your soulmate’s first language!”

“I looked it up, but the translation wasn’t exact. It’s just one word. Slana’pir.”

“Huh.” Sabine considered that for a few seconds. “That can mean ‘get lost’ or ‘go away’ depending on the context. It’s kind of a funny thing for someone to say as their first words to you. The first letter, does it angle at the bottom? This way?” She illustrated with her hand.

Leia had to think about it. “No. The other way.”

“That’s interesting. It means they’re probably Concordian, from Concordia or Concord Dawn.” She grinned. “A hick Mandalorian, you know? In some places they use slana’pir literally, from a Concordian it’s more likely to be a threat.”

“Great,” Leia replied dryly. “I’ll just keep my eyes peeled for a Mandalorian who instantly threatens me. Are your parents...it’s real for them?”

“Oh yeah. They’re really happy together. My dad always says he doesn’t mind dying at the same time as my mom, because he can’t imagine living without her.”

“Wait. You die if your soulmate does?”

“That’s part of the deal. Once you meet and exchange words, you literally can’t live without one another.”

“But what if it’s someone you pass on the street and never speak to?”

“Then I guess you do what you want like everyone else.”

---

Leia couldn’t understand the grunts of the Gamorrean guards who dragged her through the door. They tossed her in the direction of the bed and left, locking the door behind them. The room was simple, the only furniture was a bed.

Jabba had made the terms of her captivity clear with the scraps of metal and cloth she was forced to wear. She was a trophy for the Hutt to display. So why lock her in here?

She paced for a while. When she got tired of pacing she sat on the bed, her eyes fixed on the door. That quickly became boring and so she laid down, curled up on her side. At some point she fell asleep.

When she woke up there were voices outside the door. Bib Fortuna, the Twi’lek majordomo, and a second voice.

Boba Fett.

Leia bolted upright. Of course. Jabba was passing her on as a bonus to his pet hunter. Her hands curled into fists as the door opened and the Mandalorian bounty hunter strode in.

“Get out.”

She resisted the urge to cover her soulmark with her hand. “Congratulations,” she snarled instead. “You can read.”

He didn’t respond. He stood frozen in front of the door until it finally occurred to Leia that something had happened. “The fuck,” he whispered, the words barely audible through his helmet. Suddenly he was moving towards her, and before she could scramble away he was on his knees at her feet, his hand on her leg. His gloved fingers scrubbed across her soulmark as if he was trying to rub it off.

“Ow!” She pulled her leg up under her, shoving him away. “Get off me!”

He straightened, started to walk away and then turned back. And then away again, as if he had lost all sense of direction. “It can’t be,” he said to no one.

“Are you on spice?”

He laughed, a harsh, unexpected sound that caused a burst of static in his helmet. “I wish this were a spice dream, but neither of us is going to get that lucky.” He lifted off his helmet, setting it on a table before he removed his jetpack. He was in his thirties, with dark curly hair and tan skin. A handsome man, in spite of his grim expression. He looked as if he wanted to be doing anything other than what he was doing.

He stripped off his bracers and then worked open the flak vest his chest plates attached to. When he started opening the neck of his flight suit Leia realized that he was undressing.

“Let’s get one thing clear,” she said. “Lay a hand on me and one of us is going to die.”

“I’m not going to touch you.” He said it scornfully, as if the very idea was offensive. “I have to show you something.”

“Why?”

His anger faded a little. “I think you have a right to know.” He pulled his arms out of the sleeves of his flight suit and let the top half hang over his belt. He wore a white sleeveless undershirt beneath it, which he pulled over his head in one smooth motion. His back was all smooth skin and muscle, except for a few scattered scars and the line of aurebesh letters that ran vertically down along his spine.

Congratulations. You can read.

“Oh my gods.” Leia could scarcely breathe. “You...you didn’t read it. It was just...the first words you said.”

“Seems impossible that we haven’t spoken before. But even on Bespin we never talked. Not directly.”

“It’s you,” Leia said, still trying to process it. “You’re the hick Mandalorian. From...Concorda...or something.”

He blinked at her. “Concord Dawn. And I’m not. But my dad was.” He waited a moment, as if he was trying to decide something. “When did they show up for you? The actual words, I mean.”

“I was ten, I think.”

“Me too.” A smile appeared, fleeting but sincere. “My dad said they were funny. Like a joke.” He shook his head. “It’s a fucking joke, all right.”

“Tell me about it.” Leia rubbed her temple. “My soulmate is a bounty hunter.”

“And mine is in love with someone else.” Fett winced as if something had just occurred to him. “I’ve got to get you out of here.”

“What? Why?”

“Because if I don’t you’ll get yourself killed trying to rescue Solo. You know what happens now, right? Now that we’ve met? If you die, I die.”

“You could help me. Help me get Han out and-”

“And what? You’ll marry him, move to the outer rim and live a long, peaceful life?” His tone was rich with skepticism.

“Maybe I will,” she lied, trying not to think about the rebel forces gathering on Yavin IV.

He looked at her for a moment in silence and then dropped his gaze. “I’ll leave. Whatever plans you have, I’m not part of them. We’ll both just try to...stay alive.” His shoulders rose and fell in one sharp breath. “Since we probably won’t see each other again, is there anything you want to know?”

Leia plucked at the blanket on the bed. “I guess you’ve heard some of the same things I have.”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious.”

“I didn’t feel anything when you…” she gestured at her leg.

“Might have been blocked by the gloves.”

“Yeah. That makes sense, I guess.” It might be her only chance to test it. “If you want to try it again…”

He worked his glove off his right hand and approached her cautiously. His hand spread over her thigh, covering his words completely. Leia felt nothing. She gingerly placed her hand on his naked back, over her own words.

And then she felt everything.

It was...a connection. She could think of no other word to describe it. This person belonged to her. His life, his body, his mind and his soul. He fit her like home. She looked up into his eyes, eyes that reflected the same intense longing. “Oh no,” she breathed, overwhelmed and shaking.

“Yeah,” Fett gasped as he leaned in and kissed her and it was perfect the way no kiss between two strangers should be. Leia’s hand went to his chest and then up around his neck as the kiss deepened and then she was wrapped around him and they were both nearly horizontal on the bed.

And then suddenly he was pushing away, detangling himself from the embrace. He turned his back to her and clutched at his head as if he had a stabbing headache. “No,” he growled. “No fucking way.”

Leia couldn’t take her eyes off the words on his back. Her words. She wanted to touch him again. To hold him and comfort him. But clearly that wasn’t what he wanted. She swallowed the lump that was suddenly in her throat. “So I guess that’s real.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, still facing away. “No matter what some stupid magic tattoo says, that was out of line.”

“It wasn’t…” She didn’t know how to finish that. Was it better or worse if it truly wasn’t what he wanted? For that matter, how could she be sure that it was what she wanted? “No apology necessary,” she said finally.

“That’s gracious of you.” He reached for his undershirt and pulled it back on. “I think I have all the information I need.”

“Yes,” Leia agreed. “So what now?”

“Now I ask you for a favor.” He turned to face her and he put his arms through the sleeves of his flightsuit. “Be careful. Play along with Jabba and don’t do anything that might get you tossed in the rancor pit.”

She inhaled slowly, weighing her options. “I’ll try if you do one thing for me.”

“What?”

“Don’t leave.”

His hands stilled for a second, and then he looked away. “It’s going to be hell,” he said, almost casually. “Not knowing where you are or what you’re doing. Fine. I won’t leave. I’ll help you if I can, but don’t ask me to lift a finger for Solo.”

“Fine.”

---

Things had taken a turn. Leia could feel it in her bones as Jabba’s minions raced for the deck of the sail barge. Fett clearly knew it too.

Artoo bumped against her leg with a quiet beep, and Leia took advantage of the Hutt’s distraction. She crouched down beside the small droid and held the length of chain between her hands. One zap and it broke.

But when she straightened, the bounty hunter was gone.

She heard Jabba’s cry of outrage as she bolted for the deck, but she ignored it. All of his guards were busy fighting. She caught a quick glimpse of her friends on the skiff and then the bounty hunter at the rail. The engines on his jetpack were lit.

Leia seized a pike that had fallen to the deck in the mad rush and swung it as hard as she could. Her aim was too good. Not only did she smash it into his jetpack but the force of the blow sent him over the railing.

Into the sarlacc pit.

She raced to the railing. He’d managed to slow his fall by grasping at the side of the barge, but without a good handhold in reach he was slipping down the side. She reached down with the pike and he grabbed it. A blaster shot ricocheted off the barge inches from his head. Artoo appeared on the deck and whistled sharply. Leia looked over at the droid. “What do you mean ‘it’s going to blow?’”

She jumped barely a second before the explosion. She collided with Fett on the way down and they hit the sand, rolling towards the mouth of the pit until suddenly they jerked to a stop. Fett had one arm wrapped around her and when she looked up she saw his other arm stretched over his head, bent at an angle that screamed ‘broken’ but anchored by his fibercord grappling hook to the skiff above them.

“Leia!” She heard Han shout, but she was too busy trying to hold onto Fett and keep herself from sliding further into the pit.

“Blaster,” Fett rasped. “Sarlacc…”

A tentacle slapped at her ankle and she pulled her leg up as high as she could. She managed to pull the bounty hunter’s blaster pistol from it’s holster and fired at the beast, causing the ground to shudder beneath them.

Chewie appeared over the railing of the skiff and then suddenly the skiff lurched and began to move. Fett let out a muffled cry of pain as it dragged them to safety.

---

“Can you see this?” Leia waved a hand in front of his face and Han squinted.

“I can see the motion.”

“That’s a good sign. Try to get some sleep, okay?” She bent down to kiss his forehead before leaving the Millennium Falcon's crew quarters. Fett was sitting up on the cot, his back against the wall. His arm had been set and placed in a sling and at the insistence of everyone else, his other hand was cuffed to the cot. His helmet sat beside him, and his eyes were half-shut. Lando had given him a pretty big dose of painkillers.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’ve felt worse.” His mouth curved into a bitter smile. “You fucked up.”

Leia folded her arms over her chest. “I still saved your life, Fett.”

He shook his head as if the motion took effort. “The sarlacc keeps its victims alive. You could have lived your whole life while I was being digested.”

“I don’t think I could have.” Leia sat down beside him on the cot. “I don’t want you to suffer. That’s not the magic tattoo, that’s who I am.” She brushed a dark curl off his forehead and laid her palm on his cheek. The sense of connection and wholeness she felt at Jabba’s was just as strong now. He leaned into the touch and Leia leaned over and gave him a quick kiss, which led to a longer kiss. And then an even longer one.

“What are we doing?” Fett demanded as soon as they broke apart.

“Nothing. You’re drugged to the gills and Chewie would love to have an excuse to throw you out the airlock.” She sighed and leaned back against the wall beside him. “I don’t like being told what to do. Even by fate.”

“My dad used to say ‘fate is whatever you make of your life.’”

He’d spoken of his father before, and always in the past tense. “When did he die?”

“Years ago. When I was still a child.”

“What about your mother?”

“Never had one.”

“I’m sorry. I can tell by the way you talk about your dad that you were close.” Leia turned her head towards him. “I’m an orphan too, you know. Maybe if we’d met at a different time or in a different place…”

Fett nodded and gave her a quick, tired smile. “If fate is real, maybe it’ll bring us back together when we have an actual shot at it.”

She laughed softly. “I like that idea, actually. Put it to the test.”

He lifted his hand as far as the cuff would allow. “I’d shake on it, but…”

“Nice try.” Leia sat up and gave him one last kiss. “For fate.”

[keiyoomi]

❝ikaw pa rin❞

☾ pairing: a. keiji x reader;

☾ genre: fluff? pinch of angst? |

☾ word count: 1,196 words

☾ note: THIS IS THE LAST PART! HAHAHAHAHA! I need to start working on Tsukishima’s “Ang Iwasan” pt. 2. My queue’s piling up like fuckin crazy!

☾ rough translation: “it‘s still you.’”

☾ currently playing on repeat: pusong ligaw by jericho rosales

☾ masterlist | pt. i | pt. ii

“I’m. . . home.” You sighed heavily as you take off your shoes. ‘What’s the use of announcing my presence when I live here all by myself?’ you thought as you place your shoes on the rack.

Then, you heard a sizzling sound coming from your kitchen. Confusion clouded your features. ‘There’s no way, Kōtarō would cook. He can’t cook in the first place! He almost set this place on fire when he attempted to cook!’

You sprinted towards the kitchen, only to stop half-way. Your mouth agape when you saw him standing in front of the stove, one hand holding the wooden sauté paddle while the other’s holding the pan’s handle.

‘Am I hallucinating?’ you asked as you look intently at the man in your kitchen. You tilted your head, blinked your eyes and even pinch yourself. But he didn’t disappear.

“How. . .? What. . .?”

He looked up, eyes widening while waving his hand. “I-It’s not what you think,” he began before looking at the pan then glancing to you.

He was wearing one of your spare aprons—the midnight blue one—over his white shirt. “B-Bokuto-san! He. . . He stepped out for a bit to buy s-something. I-I swear I didn’t break into your apartment.”

You looked around your living area and noticed that there was no signs of Bokuto being in here except from the black suitcase beside the couch. You sighed while massaging your temples.

‘I see. . . He took the matter in his own hands, again.’ You glanced at Keiji’s direction. His eyes were not leaving the pan. “I-I’ll just. . .” you cleared your throat. “. . . Head upstairs,” you said.

Then, you turn away from him. “Y/N!” he called. You glanced at his direction. “Welcome home.”

“’KAASHI, I’ll be staying at Kuroo’s house tonight.” Akaashi’s face turned pale as soon as Bokuto said those words. He doesn’t know how to explain to you that the person who let him in ditched them.

“B-Bokuto-san!” He slowly brought down his hand when the beeping sound began.

He was startled when he heard you pulling the chair. “Do you mind if I take a bite? I mean, I’m pretty sure Kō decided to stay at one of his friend’s house tonight.” You began while placing some carbonara on your plate.

“H-How. . .?”

“Well, for starters, he thought I was acting strange after our last conversation. He wanted to know the reason, but I kept my mouth shut,” you said before shoving a forkful into your nouth. “Then, he began acting suspicious after the party he threw the other day.” Then, you glance at him. “Care to join me for dinner? You wouldn’t want to waste this food, right?”

He staggered as he approach the dining table before occupying the seat in across you. “About—”

“—I’m sorry.”

“Eh?”

“For what I did before.” He sighed. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have made such decision. I shouldn’t have forced you to accept that—”

“—it was all in the past, Akaashi-kun.” Keiji look at you. “We’ve learned our lessons from what happened then. In a way, it made me who I am today.”

“But I still hurt you. By lying to you.”

You placed your fork on your plate. “Ah! About that. Who was that woman?” you asked. There was a slight pinch in your heart, but you didn’t show it to him.

Akaashi took a deep breath before picking up his phone. Then, after few taps, a ringing tone filled your quiet apartment. “Oh, Akaashi-kun!”

You heard the voice of the same woman from four years ago. ‘So, they remain in contact, huh.’

“Hon! Akaashi-kun’s finally called us!”

Your eyes met his hopeful ones before he showed you the phone’s screen. The woman’s eyes widen as soon as she sees you on the same screen as Akaashi.

“You’re finally back together?” she shriek in surprise and. . . utter happiness? “Thank God! Wait, do we still need to explain what happened then?”

“Yumi-san is the assistant editor-in-chief of the university paper. She was also part of the theatre club. . . and was into the editor-in-chief.”

The woman complained. Saying that she is still into the editor-in-chief. Akaashi cleared his throat. “I helped them. . .” he added.

“. . . And we helped him back,” a man sat next to the woman. “In a terrible way. I’ve heard what happened back then, Miss L/N. I’m sorry for not discouraging him.”

The woman slapped the man’s arm. “Oh, please. You were discouraging us from start to finish.”

“W-Why. . . W-What. . . Eh?”

Akaashi placed his phone on the table before kneeling beside you. He took you right hand, holding it with his. “During Bokuto-san’s party, I told them what I feel for you. From then up until now. What I did was stupid and reckless. I-I. . .”

He sniffed. “My life was a mess back then. I don’t know how to tell you about the time I almost lost my scholarship. I don’t know how to tell you that I’m dropping my part-time job to focus on my studies.

“W-We’re striving then. I was hesitating to tell you about my mess because if you find out about it, I’m sure you’ll end up working twice as hard as you already do. I-I don’t want to be a burden.”

Tears stained your face while listening to him. “A-And then. . . I found out that an international company wanted you to become their intern. . .and that if you do well, they’ll absorb you in their company.”

You dried his tears with your palm and thumb. “You. . . You have a bright future ahead while I—”

You launch yourself towards him, crying as hard as he did. His arms wrapped around your body. The two of you remained that way sobbing and saying incoherent words to each other. He nuzzled his face on the curve of your neck, pulling you closer to him.

“Oh! I told you, Kuroo! We shouldn’t have entered!”

Until they barge in.

☾ taglist: @haikyuu-ink ; @kenchiko ; @agaassi ; @benvo ; @sadsugarplumm ; @yams046 ; @namyari ; @thatnikkixx ; @k-eijiakaashi ; @akaashit-baeji ; tba (send an ask or dm if you’d like to be added/removed!)

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Part 1: Crying In The Club

Member: Juyeon (ft. Hyunjae/changmin????)

Genre: idk man. angst/chill/slice of life/fluff????? irdk 

A/N: this was requested. no, i’m not like, posting/asking openly for requests BUT if you happen to see this, then you’re in luck. the only reason why i haven’t opened for requests is because i don’t have a large pool of followers, so if you like my style of writing and you have faith in me (because i’m not the greatest writer out there), feel free to drop me a dm/ask. i’m currently writing for tbz/nct/ateez/maybe txt idk, if you’re really interested, we can work something out :D

A/N part 2: i’m a very emotional (?) person when it comes to writing (otherwise i’m a stone cold bitch lol), so when i was asked if i could write a part 2 to this juyeon piece, i was quite surprised. the first reason being: i didn’t think the request would be for this particular piece of work for juyeon, because it got like 8 notes at the point of time i got the ask. the second reason is that i wrote the first part for me to release my feelings. whatever i wrote in the first part mirrors my feelings/situation in real life (yeah, i may or may not be worried about an ex-boyfriend stalking me welp, and yeah i may or may not have caught feelings for someone i know who stays in my dorm. unfortunately, it’s only in my imagination that he comes to my rescue, ha.). i just found it very mysterious (?) and strange about all these coincidences and it also made me really happy that people enjoy reading what i write :D

to the person who requested this, i hope you won’t be disappointed!

“what?”  your friend nearly screams in your face. thank god the drinking crowd doesn’t come in until around 10pm, else the whole bar would be looking at the both of you. “like-- the lee juyeon? the one that’s got a fucking billion girls on his tail? and he kissed you?”

you look up over the rim of your spectacles and the edge of your laptop screen, and your friend completely loses it at the sight of your face that was void of emotion.

“the hell’s wrong with you?! didn’t you confess to the man like, a month ago? now, he’s god done kissed you, stayed over in your room when your crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend’s following you, and you have no feelings or opinion to account for that?” 

your eyes were half-hooded from the cider, though not nearly enough to even make you tipsy, it was enough to make your eyelids droop a little lower than if you were wide awake. 

“just because i liked him, doesn’t mean i need to warrant him any more attention. i’m too tired of this stuff anyway, especially with what happened to the relationship with my crazy, psycho ex-boyfriend,” you say with a lack of affection, only looking back to your laptop screen and resuming your furious typing. your friend has her hands on both sides of her face, nearly squishing all her features while she stares wide-eyed at you. 

it felt so long ago that juyeon kissed you for the sake of scaring your stalker away, when it was merely a week ago. since then, you prayed every day not to run into juyeon or your stalker. 

thank god you’ve seen neither. your prayers have been heard. 

“whatever happened with your crazy ex-boyfriend shouldn’t have anything to do with whatever you want to do with your feelings now. are you really going to let him ruin your chances of being with freakin’ lee juyeon?”

“easy for you to say, you weren’t the one being threatened and stalked,” you retorted, not even bothering to look at her. you were lucky your friend knew the whole story, because any other person would’ve shut you down for being so rude and blunt. truth was, she knew you were emotionally exhausted, to the point where you were emotionally unavailable. even if lee juyeon really had a thing for you, it was going to take a lot of effort to encourage you to try building something out of a relationship with one of the school’s most popular boys. 

you hear her sigh before finishing her own bottle of cider. 

“i just want my feelings for juyeon to go away. i don’t want anything to do with the man, not when he’s got so many girls after him, not when i obviously don’t stand a chance at winning him over even if i was interested.”

your friend glares at you, with the words “really?” printed into her forehead. 

“i’m not even gonna bother anymore. you do what you want with juyeon,” you smile at her final announcement to leave the case. you watch with softer eyes, your arms perched on the table and your chin resting on your clasped hands while she packed her stuff. “but mark my words, if it’s anything i know, lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people.”

you roll your eyes, pulling away from the table as she picks up her bag. 

“haven’t we established that he only did it because i was being followed--”

“my girl, you don’t get a say in this. you’re too emotionally occupied... or shut down, to see what’s really happening. but from what my cousin tells me, juyeon’s not the kind to offer such intimate acts to people he doesn’t know well. that, you can trust my cousin.” 

you bare your teeth in disgust at her final blow. if she hadn’t reminded you, you would’ve forgotten that changmin, who was part of juyeon’s popular boy clique, was a cousin of hers. 

“i gotta bolt, you have fun and please don’t go back too late. i doubt juyeon’s going to magically appear again at one thirty in the morning to save your ass,” she looks back over her shoulder and raises a brow at you. nodding your head gently, you wave her off.

you mirror your friend’s actions from before and press your hands to the sides of your face, your fingers pressing against your temple. you shut your eyes gently, listening to the soft ‘clink clanks’ from the counter near the kitchen, and the soft shuffle and distant talking from other students in the bar. 

“lee juyeon doesn’t go around kissing people”

you shake yourself out of it, drinking some water before resuming your work on your laptop. whatever your friend said about you being emotionally unavailable was true, but you had no clue how to get over it, and frankly, even if you did know how, it was going to take a lot of courage and a lot of patience.

you work on your stuff for about an hour, making a deal with yourself to head back to your room before midnight while the bar would be at its busiest. you thank the student staff who recognised you from the previous week, pulling out your phone from your pocket and empty-mindedly scrolling through your social media. 

then, someone calls out to you. 

instantly, all the blood rushes from every part of your body and into your chest. that voice... there was no way you were ever going to forget it. 

your grip on your phone gets tighter, and your heart begins to race. your mind screams ‘run’ but your body reacts exactly like how every dumb white girl acts in a horror movie. 

“i was wondering where you’ve been. i didn’t think you’d be back here after... well, last week,” you hear him scoff, and the sound of his shoes against the floor translates into a smaller gap between the two of you. “smart move, i must say. big reverse-psyche move right there.”

your breathing gets heavier, and your eyes were no longer tired from the alcohol. the fact that he was standing right behind you was making you feel trapped, and even though you could’ve taken off in any direction, the memory of what he did completely rendered your ability to move, useless. 

“i don’t want to see you again, please. i stand by what i said last year, i’ll ruin your fucking life if i see you again.”

you take a step forward, but he grabs your arm from behind, harshly pulling you around so you were facing him. 

nothing about him changed. his facial features, his height, his hair might’ve grown a little longer, but the look that you stole your will to love was still in his eyes. you wince as you try to pull away, but he doesn’t budge.

“ruin my life?” he smirks, and it makes you want to slap him across the face. “sure, but not after i ruin yours too.”

you felt your gut twisting like crazy inside of you, and your legs were losing their energy to even let you stand. you wince at his tightening grip on your forearm, and all you wanted to do was to kick him in the nuts, but you just couldn’t move. 

“you’ve already ruined mine...” you quietly inform, remembering the feeling of being completely worthless, completely destroyed by him. “why are you doing this? you’ve already ruined my life, what benefit do you get from it?” 

“oh?” his eyes widen, and a smug look pulls up on his face. “what about that kiss in the lift last week? didn’t he sleep over as well? i was there till four am, and he never left the building. i thought you’ve already moved on.”

you grit your teeth as both anger and fear runs through your blood. 

you open your mouth, ready to hurl a string of vulgarities at him and protest against him being the world’s worst person, but someone beats you to it.

“pretty sure she already did, man.”

the psycho looks up from you and looks over your head, the smug smile completely wiped away and was replaced with a look of despise and anger. 

you shut your eyes tightly, sucking your lips in between your teeth as you tilt your head like you were in pain. 

it was hyunjae’s voice, and there was an almost close to zero possibility that he wasn’t with juyeon.

“mind letting my girl go?” 

there it was.

you frown to yourself at juyeon’s words, still being held in an awkward position while you faced the psycho’s chest, and his eyes still glued to the two boys behind you.

“are you deaf or do you not understand simple instructions?” you finally see hyunjae reach your footing, and hyunjae lays a hand on the psycho’s grip on you. the psycho only lets go because he couldn’t read hyunjae. 

you shift away quickly, rubbing your arm where his grip on you was marked with reddening lines. you back away and bump into juyeon, who only stretched out his arm in front of you, pushing you backwards behind him. 

“did he hurt you?” juyeon turns to the side, only showing you his side profile. 

“no...” you trail off, still rubbing your arm. the lines turn into light bruises, and you can only tell yourself that you were going to wear long-sleeved tops until they healed. 

juyeon turns back to hyunjae, who now had his arm pressed against the psycho’s chest. for a moment, the psycho looked like he was ready to eat you like a lion hunting its prey, and the only things in his way were hyunjae and juyeon. 

“go back to the dorms. i’ll come check up on you afterwards,” juyeon instructs. you watch as he takes large steps towards hyunjae and the psycho. you were already backing off, but his eyes never leave you while juyeon and hyunjae try to talk him out of being crazy.

your view of the psycho was almost completely obstructed by juyeon, and hyunjae was talking to him by his side. all of a sudden, the psycho lunges forward, pushing past juyeon and towards you. the sight causes you to jerk backwards and stumble to turn and run.

hyunjae grabs him by the arm while juyeon’s first instinct was to run back to your side, and before you knew it, juyeon has fingers intertwined with the collar of the psycho’s shirt, his fists balled up and their faces inches away from one another. 

hyunjae watches on from a short distance away, hands on his hips as he scans the situation. 

“does she look like she still belongs to you? does she look like she’s got your name plastered to her forehead? last i checked, i was the one who kissed her and spent the night with her, not you,” juyeon’s voice was low, and strangely calm. you wonder if he’s truly ever lost his temper at anybody. “oh, i forgot. you know, right?”

you were backed up enough to see the look on your stalker’s face, which was now contorted into an ugly mess of distaste, anger and disgust. 

“after all we went through, you take one year to get over it? so quickly?” your stalker scoffs, loud enough for you to hear, loud enough to push all the wrong buttons. 

juyeon shoves him backwards and pushes him so hard that he falls to the floor. before he could get up, juyeon has his foot on his chest, weighing him down. 

“you really need to think twice about what you do around here. not only did you choose to be a crazy, psychotic stalker in a public area, but you just had to choose the one corner with a fully functioning CCTV.”

your stalker, who was on the ground, looks up and around the area, and you could see the intensity of panic that filled him the moment he saw the blinking red dot on the camera mounted to the corner where the ceiling met the wall.  

“and unlike you, i’m not dumb enough to pick a fight with you,” juyeon retracts his legs and exchanged quick glances with hyunjae. “you can wait for your letter of expulsion to come in your letter box wherever you’re staying in school. and you better believe that if i see you anywhere near her, i’ll make sure you spend the rest of your life locked up behind bars.”

hyunjae turns and looks at you, allowing juyeon to finish his statement. he pats him on the shoulder, telling him to leave him alone. after a few moments of intense glaring between the psycho and juyeon, he finally backs away and follows behind hyunjae as they approach you. 

you were back in your room, rocking back and forth with your rear mounted to the floor. hyunjae was on the phone telling the other boys that he and juyeon were sitting out from tonight’s drink session because ‘juyeon wasn’t feeling well’, while juyeon was sitting opposite you, watching you spiral into your own hole of thoughts and despair.

“they’re not gonna buy the excuse, but they let us off the hook,” hyunjae locks his phone and shoves it into his pocket, crossing his arms across his chest. juyeon nods at hyunjae, and the older boy takes his leave. 

he shuffles nearer to you upon the door shutting, his legs on either sides of your hips and his feet under your bed. you were nearly leaning on it, with your knees hugged tightly against your chest. you were stuck between him and your bed, but who even cared anymore?

your vision was zoning out, but you feel him trying to take your arm when he notices the light bruises on your skin. 

“i’m fine,” you muttered sharply, hiding your hand between your stomach and your thighs.

“why do you stay out so late? and alone?” he lowers his head, matching his eye level with yours. “i thought you would’ve learnt your lesson from last week.”

“i didn’t think he was going to circle back and find me at the bar again. i thought he’d scour the whole school looking for me, then give up once he realises i’m hiding from him.”

juyeon pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue and runs a hand through his blue hair. “but he knows where you stay.”

“and i thought he’d back off after seeing us--” you straighten yourself to finish the sentence, frustrated that juyeon was interrogating you and speaking the obvious. but then you realise you couldn’t say it without feeling butterflies in your stomach.

damn these feelings. 

juyeon raises a cocky brow, though not obvious, but it was easy to notice. a soft smile creeps up on the corners of his lips.

“so you were riding on the hope that he’d buy our skit?” juyeon shuffles forward again, now that you were sitting up straight and that movement created extra space between the two of you. you crane your neck backwards, the lack of distance between his nose and your eyes becoming painfully difficult to ignore. 

“i mean...” you look away, annoyed at his ability to turn such a horrible night into one of his little talking games. “if hyunjae or changmin saw it, maybe they’d buy it. i know i would, especially if i didn’t know the situation.”

“changmin?” juyeon was now grinning, his eyes halving into crescents. “all of a sudden, why changmin?”

“i was with a friend earlier tonight at the bar. she’s changmin’s cousin and i know the both of you are close.”

juyeon hums in acknowledgement, now scratching a spot on his cheek. 

there was an awkward silence in the air, and you couldn’t hear much besides your heavy breathing, split second flashes of whatever happened just about half an hour ago still running on repeat in your head. 

“do you want to know something?” 

you look up at him through the corners of your eyes, slightly afraid to look at him all too directly. there was something in his voice that was so alluring, like he was about to tell you a world-class secret.

“do i want to know?” you cautiously returned a question. juyeon chuckles and stretches both his arms forwards, resting his hands on the mattress behind your shoulders. your eyes widen as the change in position further narrows whatever distance you previously had, and if you weren’t already dying at the fact that you were caged between his arms, you were combusting at how close he was to you. 

so close, that you could feel his breath on your forehead.

“changmin and hyunjae would totally buy it.”

huh?

“do you want to know why? or are you capable of deciphering ‘why’ yourself?”

oh, god, no. please, no. 

“if i said no, could you spare me the information?” you ask, still refusing to look at him. juyeon chuckles again. 

time seemed to pass extremely slowly as you fail to react to him removing one of his hands from the bed, now reaching up to your chin and pulling it to face him. 

your heart picks up its pace again, and instead of fear that ran through you previously, you couldn’t ignore the butterflies that were filling your stomach. 

“if you’re about to confess, i’m begging you not to.”

juyeon’s smile disappears, and an overwhelming feeling of vulnerability and pity washes over you. your eyes don’t falter despite looking straight into juyeon’s. your words came out almost like a whisper, and if he wasn’t this close to you, he probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“why?” he asks quietly. 

you feel your eye brow twitch, and your nose turn slightly sour. 

oh, no, why do you choose to cry now?

“i can’t afford another heartbreak. i can’t afford feeling like i’m nothing again. not after i chose to give him my time, my heart... my body. only for him to use it against me, only for him to say that nobody will love me because of how depressed i am all the damn time...” 

you shake your chin out of juyeon’s fingers, looking away as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes again. 

you feel your tears dribble down over your cheeks, and before you could reach up to your face to wipe them away, juyeon beats you to it. but instead of wiping your tears, you found yourself stuck in another kiss.

this time, it wasn’t for show. 

there was nobody else around for him to ‘scare off’. 

you shut your eyes upon the contact, allowing all the cooped up tears to wash out from the crevices of your lids. juyeon has your cheeks cupped in his large hands that were probably the size of your face.

the touch reminds you of when you first kissed your ex-boyfriend. the feeling of melting chocolate fondue, the feeling of coming home to a warm cup of tea on a cold day--

you hurriedly pull away, panic slowly filling your heart again. “juyeon--”

“you begged me not to confess, but i hope that was enough to show you what i wanted to say.” juyeon interrupts, his thumbs now wiping away the droplets of tears hanging from your jawline and the trails left on your cheeks. 

“but i’m never going to be able to act like i’m in a normal relationshi--”

“so be it,” he holds up your face so you had no choice but to look at him. “whoever said i wanted a ‘normal relationship’? it was my choice to choose you, and so it’s my choice to be with you as you are.”

you feel the panic slowly wear away, and his words warm your heart. 

“give me time and i’ll prove that you’re the one i want to be with. i know it’s not easy to believe that with all the... girls chasing us around all the time... but i hope you’ll still give me a chance. one month ago, you told me you didn’t want an answer and all you wanted to do was to get it off your chest and get over me. i hope you haven’t succeeded.”

you feel your facial muscles relax at his confession, and the warmth radiating from his hands on your face made you feel so safe, so protected, in a long, long time. 

“i haven’t,” you gently shake your head, reaching up to pull his hand away from your face and draw circles on the back of his hand. 

juyeon gives you the warmest smile you’ve ever seen on him. he pulls you into his chest as you exhale all the worries from your heart. 

it was definitely going to take a lot of courage and patience, but if juyeon was going to do whatever he said he would, then you couldn’t be any more happier to try. 

[ultrahpfan5blog]

My very belated thoughts on Game of Thrones and season 8 in particular

I feel like I have a somewhat unique perspective on GoT. The show has been such a pop culture phenomenon that I feel that fans have been invested in it for years, either having been book fans who watched the show, or those having watched the show for the better part of a decade. For me, I was never a part of the fandom because I never watched the show until it was in season 7. The books sound great but because I can’t stand reading incomplete series, I have never read them, and at this point, it just feels unlikely that GRRM will end up finishing the series. That sucks because its just the sort of fiction that I would love. I started watching GoT in season 7, and then in season 8. Obviously, I had very little clue what was going on other than the broad strokes and I was watching purely because the spectacle and scale was something I had never seen before on tv. On that front alone it was entertaining. Given the incredibly divisive reaction, I didn’t feel like spending the amount of hours required to watch the show from scratch, but because covid ended up impacting so many ongoing tv shows and movies, I ended up deciding to give it a go. I started a couple of months ago and just finished season 8 a couple of days ago. Its been quite an experience, belated as it may be.

I still feel that I view the show differently than a lot of people. Obviously, its a very different emotional commitment for me, having watched the show in 2 months whereas other have watched the show for about 10 years. Having not read the books, I don’t have the issue of comparing the quality of the books to the show. And given I saw season 8, I watched the show with the ending in mind, so I could understand if the ending made sense to me or not.

On the whole, the show is worth a lot of applause. The production, acting, music, writing, visuals etc... is something I have never seen on tv. Juggling such a huge cast of characters with so many ongoing storylines is an incredible achievement. Say what you will about season 8′s writing, but from a production, scale, and performance standpoint, the show remained stellar all the way through. And for that, I do think D&D deserve credit. I know that is an unpopular thing to say but they still have created something that is truly one of a kind. The show is definitely not perfect, even before season 8. There are storylines that drag, storylines that aren’t given the time they deserve, character developments that don’t completely work etc... but I feel that is part and parcel of every long running show. There are very few that are perfect, and for the sheer complexity of the narrative, its amazing that the show isn’t more convoluted. I do agree that the final 2 seasons are the weakest seasons of the lot. I still think season 7 is very good, and the first half of season 8 I also like a lot, but seasons 1-6 are superb. Its difficult for me the select my favorite season. I suppose season 4 is probably at the top. Its kind of the end of the era season, with the death of Joffrey, Tyrion’s trial, then him leaving Westoros. Arya and Sandor’s time together coming to an end with her traveling to Braavos, death of Tywin, and Jon rising in the ranks of the Nights Watch and becoming a more prominent character in the show. I love seasons 5-6 because of the rise of Jon. Season 2 arc of Tyrion as hand of the King was also excellent. My favorite episodes all come from these seasons. I love the battle episodes, with Blackwater, Hardhome, and Battle of the Bastards being 3 of my favorite eps. The Laws of Gods and Men is another episode I love just for the climax where Peter Dinklage just tears into the scene with his full might. I also loved Pedro Pascal as Oberyn in season 4. He added a unique quality and I was sad to see him not last past season 4. There were a few storylines that I wasn’t completely fond of. The early years of Daenerys weren’t the most compelling, Arya in Braavos was just too slow for my taste, the Littlefinger and Sansa storyline in season 4 also felt like they were treading water and then they backtrack on Sansa’s development in season 5. Also, Staanis was someone who went a little too batshit crazy in his lust for power. Felt a little out of character.

Now, when it comes to season 8, There are a lot of complaints about a lot of things. I will say that the main issue with season 8 is that it crams what should be 2 seasons of storylines and crams it into a single 6 episode season. I think virtually every complaint can be traced back to that. I actually really like episodes 1 and 2. Especially episode 2. Brienne’s knighting is actually very touching. Its great to see characters reuniting and characters meeting for the first time. I know lots of people complained about episode 3 and while its not as good as the other 3 battle episodes that I mentioned before, I still think its excellent. I did not have the lighting problem that others had. I watched it on my laptop and I could see everything. The episode is titled ‘The Long Night’ so I expected things to be dark, but it isn’t as if I had trouble seeing what happened. The episode is incredibly intense and while its a bit difficult o figure out how so many survived and there are some questionable tactics for sure, its still quite a spectacular spectacle. My only issue with the episode is really all Jon related, which I will get back to in a bit. 

I know that Daenerys turning into the mad queen is a huge point of contention for the season. While I absolutely agree that that character arc went from 0 to a 100 way too fast, I don’t think it was completely out of the blue. Knowing the ending, I kept an eye on Daenerys, and I think there are a lot of instances where her first instinct to fixing problems has been to unleash her dragons. She has had characters around her like Selmy, Jorah, later Tyrion, even Daario, who have tempered that instinct somewhat. But that is still a natural instinct for her. Not to mention, in Essos, she was dealing with a fairly black and white issue when it comes to slavery. And she mistakenly thought, her experiences in Essos would translate to Westoros. She came with the idea that the common people would support her without fully processing the idea that she was bringing foreign armies into their land and three dragons, which had not been seen by people for generations. So they had legitimate reasons for fear. So it wasn’t completely out of the blue that she unraveled when confronted with the revelations that she was feared more than she was loved and that she did not have the sort of universal support she thought she would have. Obviously, that was compounded by the losses that she tacked up one after another. Definitely, one more season was required to make that a satisfactory arc, but I don’t think it was completely random. And honestly, once she did what she did in episode 5, she was never going to survive the show. I will say this, Emilia Clarke was outstanding in season 8. She was never the cast member who stood out in seasons past, but season 8 was really her season. While the character development was rushed, she sold every scene and earned her lead actress emmy nomination.

There are some endings which people hated which I understood. Like Jaime’s ending, which people were pretty pissed about, is an ending I quite get. As much as we love the story of redemption, the Cersei and Jaime bond was just too deep and toxic for him to so easily extricate himself. I get why he would be drawn back to her when he knew she was in danger. I think Lena and Nikolaj really sold their final scenes together. I felt for Lena as an actress. As a result of the short season, she really didn’t get much to do all season. Her death scene is really the only time she gets material to chew on. So that was a pity. I think Brienne and Sandor Clegane were two characters for whom their endings were perfect. Brienne becoming a knight of the six kingdoms and Clegane finally getting revenge on his brother was extremely satisfying. Theon’s ending was pretty much perfect. Sansa becoming queen in the North makes sense. The show seemed to be building towards it. Sophie Tuner gets some good material in the final season where you can see that there is a lot happening in her head and not all of it is altruistic. She does have a power hungry side to her, even if she’s not self destructively so. Maisie Williams was strong again. I wasn’t a huge fan of her getting to kill the Night King over Jon but there lots of good moments she has with Jon, Sandor, Gendry, Sansa etc... Bran becoming King of the six Kingdoms is definitely not the greatest ending. I don’t know whose decision it was to turn Bran into a robot and have him do nothing other than sit and stare, but it definitely wasn’t the greatest. I can’t imagine it was a particularly satisfying experience as an actor for Isaac. I did enjoy a couple of moments with him and Jaime, harking back to season 1.

The two other major characters are Tyrion and Jon. Certainly the finale is very heavily centered on those two. I do agree with the notion that they really dumbed down on Tyrion’s intelligence as he makes a lot of wrong moves in the last couple of seasons. But Peter Dinklage the actor has never disappointed. His performance in the finale ranks as one of his finest on the show. There has never been a time when he has not given his all. Him ending up as the hand is pretty effective ending. He is a humbled man, admitting that he’s not as smart as he thought he was. So maybe he would be a better hand as a result of that experience. Jon’s ending is another controversial one. I am in the audience who really wasn’t a fan of how Jon was treated in season 8. Kit Harington was quite poorly served in season 8, which was a bit of a whiplash since Jon was arguably at his most badass in season 5-7 and became a huge a fan favorite. Certainly he took over from Dinklage as the de facto male lead of the show. The character only comes back to life at the very end of episode 5. Part of that is probably the point. That Jon became too bent to Daenerys’ will, as Varys said.to Tyrion. It took Daenerys burning down King’s Landing to wake him up. I get that from a narrative standpoint, buts its dissatisfying from a character perspective when its the final season. Certainly I found it very strange how little role he played in The Long Night, given the White Walker storyline was Jon’s primary storyline on the show. Put aside killing the Night King, a showdown which was promised on the show, he didn’t even do much else in the episode. At the very least he should have gotten to destroy the undead Viserion. The memes about his dialogue in the season aren’t unfounded. But, I will say that Kit Harington is fantastic in the series finale. He arguable has the centerpoint scenes of the finale, the two scenes with Tyrion, and then the scene with Danaerys where he is literally begging her to give him a reason not to kill her and she keeps saying the wrong thing. Certainly Peter and Kit end the season on a high note. Him ending up with the Wildlings seems appropriate because Jon never seemed cut out to be King, nor did he ever want that responsibility. He probably would have been better than Bran, but its a decent enough ending for him. In the end, the way the show ends I was mostly ok with, but the path to getting there should have come with one extra season at least.

In the end, the production and the acting will always be something I will remember. I didn’t even mention great performances from Sean Bean, Charles Dance, Alfie Allen, Stephen Dillane, Conleth Hill, Aiden Gillen, Diana Rigg, Jerome Flynn, Liam Cunningham among many others over the years. So even though I do have issues with the final season, I feel that the good far outweighs the bad when it comes to the show. Its not a show I foresee rewatching any time soon since its one of those shows that requires some digestion and a lot of hours, but I certainly don’t regret the time I gave to it.

[sunbellylou]

ask for writers !!

thank you @tomlinvelvetfics​ for tagging me! and thank you @soldouthaz for making this tag!

1. describe how you first started writing and when you first posted: i’ve been writing for years now, i started with het (ew!) 1d fics in portuguese back in 2011, it was actually those little imagines we used to write, don’t know if anyone remembers hehe. i posted them on a facebook page i was part of and i remember the first thingy i wrote was something with niall, but i really don’t remember any details (but was probably bad as heck since i was 11).

my first larry fic i probably wrote around 2012 when i found out the gay fanfics world haha, i don’t remember what it was or anything tbh, in my head i always wrote and posted gay fanfic.

my first fanfic in english was a little one shot (like 400 words honestly), it was a translation of a previous work i wrote portuguese. i posted it a year and a half ago and it’s called playground love (please don’t look).

2. which of your characters do you typically resonate most closely with? do you base any characters off of yourself?:  i usually write from harry’s pov because i love love l o v e describing louis and how angelic he is, so usually i tend to see louis as this ethereal ish character, cause it’s usually about harry falling in love with him. so whether i like it or no, i tend to be closer to harry’s characters in my fics, i always like to put a bit of myself on him and make the character real, you know?

3. where do you often find inspiration?: honestly? anything! i’ve written fics inspired by tumblr posts, tweets, pictures, songs, movies, things that happened in my real life, books. i literally wrote a pwp because i couldn’t stop thinking about leather pants (go read my robin hood au).

4. has quarantine helped or hindered your writing process?: in the beginning it was really helping me, i’d stay up till 4am everyday just writing like crazy, but then i got into the worst writer’s block and didn’t write shit for months. (and of course right when i started getting new ideas, i started working so i have no free time).

5. do you listen to music/noise while you write or do you prefer silence? always listen to music, all the time. i can’t do anything without music. mostly because my brain is a mess and music helps me concentrate. i usually go for some chill songs, some indie pop and stuff.

6. what is your biggest writing pet peeve in your writing or in general?: oh my god, when i’m writing and two or more paragraphs start with the same word, one after the other. it drives me crazy!!!! and sometimes i spend hours looking for ways to word differently the sentences, just so i don’t have two paragraphs starting with “the”.

also when my paragraphs are two (or one) lines long, i can’t! it has to have three or more lines.

7. describe your ideal writing setup: at the dining table, in the middle of the night, with some soft music playing in the background and some popcorn with me!

8. favorite time of day to write?: well, just said it hehe i like writing at night.

9. favorite genre to write + one you’d like to try writing in the future?: woah, that’s tough because i literally write any genres! i really love writing fantasy and horror stuff, but i feel like it’s not really well accepted in the fandom? (spec horror). and when people like it, they only read from bigger authors so i usually keep myself from writing those. aaand tbh i probably already wrote most of fic genres out there, so there isn’t much left to try.

10. do you struggle with writer’s block? how do you typically overcome it?  i’m writer’s block bitch and i do not know how to overcome her

11. what is the easiest part of your writing process and the most difficult? outlining tbh, i usually don’t (and it comes back to kick me in the ass). i always have too many ideas at the same time and can’t stick to one, so outlining and finding the right plot is really hard.

12. how do you come up with original characters? (if applicable): lately i haven’t really had the chance to come up with ocs, but when i wrote original books (not fanfics and stuff), i usually started with the gender and one outstanding personality trait and went from there.

13. what is your favorite and least favorite word?  i love the words ethereal and breeze, omg you’ll find them A LOT on my fics. and my least favorite word is growl.

14. what is one thing about your writing that you’re really proud of and one thing you hope to continue working at?: i think i describe the vibez in the scene really well, it’s my favorite thing to do. and i need to work more on building my sentences, because theyre always supermessy.

15. what work of yours has your favorite ‘verse/world building? how did you come up with it?:  definitely the fic i’m working on right now! i’m putting so much work on the world building since it’s a fantasy fic, so i’m planning every little detail about it. i hope other people like it too when they read it !!

16. what font and size do you write in? single spaced or double?: comic sans, 12pt, single spaced. don’t come at me.

17. what is a typo(s) you find yourself making consistently?: because english isn’t my first language, i always change like ‘th’ for ‘d’ (because it has a similar sound in portuguese), so catch me typing ‘de’ instead of ‘the’ or ‘dey’ instead of ‘they’.

18. (if applicable) do you separate fic writing from fandom?: i didn’t understand the question so i’m pretending i never read it hehe

19. what emotion is your favorite to write? which is the most difficult?: my favorite to write is probably,,, love/adoration, like harry looking at louis like he’s the whole world and thinking about how amazing he is? i love it.

and the most difficult is probably anger, i find it really hard to write like fights and stuff like that because usually i make the characters sound more sad than angry.

20. what is one thing you hope readers always take away from your works?: i never thought about that but,,, i hope they start finding joy in small things that happen in their day. that’s something i use a lot in my fics and i think it’s very important to bring it to real life. like enjoy that late night tea, showering in the morning, spending a summer day in the house, cleaning, etc.

21. what is the best and worst writing advice you’ve ever received?: i think the best advice is one i got from someone i no longer talk to, they told me this when i first started writing in english and it is to stop trying to write fancy or like native english speakers, because it’s much better to write simple sentences that i’m confident about than write sentences with words i barely know how to use.

and the worst advice is TO OUTLINE! i know i should maybe i dont know but leave me alone, i hate outlining bye

22. which one of your works would you most want to see turned into a film/television show?:  ok so,,, it’s a book i wrote like three years ago with original characters. it’s called great evil and i wrote it in portuguese. it’s full of violence and acid humor, about a very evil and sarcastic demon and an angry hunter. (one day i’ll translate that book and turn it into a larry fic)

23. do you write scenes chronologically or out of order?: chronologically. always

24. how do you handle criticism?: really bad. please be careful with what words you use. i’m already really hard on myself when it comes to my writing, so sometimes someone says something and (it might be dramatic but) i feel my world crumbling and i want to stop writing right away.

25. what is the advice you would give to someone who is looking to start writing?:  just,,, do it. there’s no right or wrong way to do it. there’s no such thing as too much or too little, bad or good plots. every idea is a good idea. write it for yourself, write something you like. go ahead and just do it. there’s always someone out there who will enjoy your work, no matter what.

26. what kind of feedback on your work always makes your day?: any comments make my day tbh, if you comment on my fic i’ll be forever grateful and will be smiling like a fool the whole day. honestly, even a “omg i loved it” comment can make my day.

27. which fic ‘verse of your own would you most like to exist in? which fic’s characters would you most like to befriend?: the one i’m writing 100%, please i want to live in a fantasy world. i wanna live in the water kingdom and have faerie louis as my king please.

and i’d like to befriend louis from my fic kiss me in your chevrolet, he’s a sweetheart and i must protecc.

28. what do you always enjoy getting asks about/wish people would ask about more?: anything! i rarely get asks so anything is good hehe

29. what has writing added to your life? how has it changed you?: it’s such a big part of my life, i spent all my teenage years writing and it really is what built my personality. it helped me being more creative with all aspects of my life and take life lightly, enjoy little things and moments. 

30. why do you write?: i just love having ideas and putting out there, playing with words and finding new ways to describe daily things.

boost yourself + tags!

1a. share the last sentence you wrote:

The path through the dense forest, covered in slippery rocks and burning trees is already difficult enough, but it becomes ten times worse when you’re being pestered by small, demonic creatures. 

2a. describe the wip you’re most excited about:

i’m honestly only working on one fic right now and i’m super duper excited about it

3a. share the piece of dialogue from one of your works you’re most proud of:

"I mean, I still don't plan on watching Star Wars, so…" 

The boy groans playfully, throwing his head back and Louis' eyes are suddenly really interested in the column of the guy's throat. 

"Americans really have no culture." He shoulders Louis slightly, warmth spreading through Louis' dainty shoulder and making him trip to the side lightly. With a faux outraged scoff, Louis waves a dismissing hand. 

“What do British people know about culture? All you do is drink tea and talk about the weather all day,” Louis teases with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Also, Star Wars is American, just so you know.” He rolled his eyes playfully, feeling surprisingly comfortable in his presence.

Skater Boy sighs comically, shaking his head, his wavy locks falling gracefully on the sides of his face and Louis can’t stop thinking about how soft his hair must be. 

“You got me there.”

not posted but i kinda like it (i’m not really good with dialogues, so it was really hard to find one lmao)

4a. share the best first and last lines from your work(s): I will do only those that are already published:

best first lines are from a halloween fic i never finished: 

Louis’ blue eyes snap open. His heart pounds fast inside his rib cage, making something as easy as breathing almost impossible. Sweat drenches his body and he feels like drowning. He feels too awake and wary as his breathing calms down, as well as his grips on the sheets under him loosen.

best last lines are from my 2019 BLFF there’s more than one place to call home: 

Their life was utter chaos, and they were definitely complete opposites, and sometimes Harry wished Louis would just shut the hell up, but at the same time, Harry wouldn’t change a single thing about his life, because he had Louis, and that was all that mattered to him. 

5a. link the last fic you read: it was the devil's in the details by @raspberryoatss​

6a. link the last work you published: you could take a lick (but it’s too cold to bite me)

7a. link to your ao3 (if applicable): cinnamons

8a. someone that inspires you: louis hehe 

9a. a comfort fic/work that you’ve been grateful for this year: tbh i don’t read a lot of fics, but there’s this work a friend of mine wrote. it was in portuguese and she ended up deleting it but it’s amazing.

10a. other writers that you’d like to tag! @bottomlwt @raspberryoatss 

[dailyaudiobible]

12/16/2020 DAB Transcript

Micah 5:1-7:20, Revelation 7:1-17, Psalms 135:1-21, Proverbs 30:5-6

Today is the 16th day of the month of December welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I’m Brian and it is wonderful to be here with you today as we continue our journey, the one that takes us to the end of the year and all the way through the Scriptures. And we are obviously well on our way, but we still have some significant territory to cover. And, so, let's dive in. We’re reading from the Good News Translation this week. We began the book of Micah yesterday in our Old Testament reading, and we will conclude the book of Micah today by reading Micah 5, 6, and 7.

Commentary:

Okay. God says something in the book of Micah today as we’re nearing the end of…of Micah that is really riveting and penetrating. “my people”, God says “what have I done to you? How have I been a burden to you? Answer me.” And this is God basically pressing into the rebellion of His people and the idolatry and spiritual idolatry of His people. They would face hardship and then blame God for it, which sounds awfully contemporary, and now. Sounds like our own lives. And God is saying, “what have I done to you? Am I not the one that rescued you? Like, am I not the one that has provided for your every step?” When God says, “my people, what have I done to you?” I mean you just have to imagine putting your own name. “Oh Brian, what have I done to you? Ahh…even just saying that out loud pricks me. I don't ever want to hear that. “How have I been a burden to you?” I don’t ever want to hear the Lord say that to me. If we just kind of a reverse the question and put the question at the end of God's statement, then we get complete clarity. So, God says. “I brought you out of Egypt. I rescued you from slavery. I sent Moses Aaron and Miriam to lead you. My people, remember what king Balak of Moab planned to do to you and Baalam son of Beor answered him. Remember the things that happened on the way from the camp at Acacia to Gilgal. Remember these things and you will realize what I did in order to save you.” My people, what have I done to you? How have I been a burden to you? Answer me.” That is such a mirror. Like, that's one you can’t escape from. You can't look away because it's like, look back at the story of your life and look at the moments where God has saved and rescued you and you knew it and you still know it. And yet hardship endurance can come, perseverance can come and we’re mad, were estranged or angry and we’re rebellious and we walk away just like the people in the Bible. And then hears God, “what did I do? What did I do to you? How did I burden you?” So, basically what happens in the text here is that Micah responds to that. Like…like God has just come and asked us this question, “How have I been a burden to you? What have I done to you?” So, he's internally kind of working through, “what…what do we do now? How do we respond to that?” And it becomes a bit of a rhetorical, even sarcastic lesson. “What shall I bring to the Lord?” Like, this is the response to, “how have I been a burden to you?” “What shall I bring to the Lord, the God of heaven when I come to worship Him? Shall I bring the best cows to burn as offering to him? Will the Lord be pleased if I bring Him thousands of sheep or endless streams of olive oil? Shall I offer him my firstborn child to pay for my sins? No.” And then Micah tells us something that's very famous but also something that essentially encapsulates what it is that God wants from you. So, Micah is like, “no. It's not all these sacrifices, it's not all these rituals, it's not all these hoops, this is not what God wants from you.” “The Lord” and I'm quoting Micah “the Lord has told us what is good. What He requires of us is this, to do what is just, to show constant love and to live in humble fellowship with our God.” More famously we would quote this, “to do justly, to love mercy, to walk humbly with your God.” This is what God wants from you. This is what he wants from me. It's what he wants from us. And when us gets together and does what God wants things change. It's all available. It's all in our hands. We can practice this as we go into the holiday season straightaway straight in front of us. Do justly, love mercy, walk humbly. That is the path friends. That is the path forward. When that's what our lives look like we are on the right path. And, so let's carry that forward in our hearts today as we continue to move toward Christmas and the new year. It was like a month and a half ago we were way out in front of it, talking about how this is gonna happen, things are gonna speed up, the years gonna get crazy like it always does, very very busy. And, so, we’re gonna want to start the year fresh and new and strong and the way that that's gonna happen is that we finish this year strong. Justice, mercy, humility - this is the path to walk to finish well and start strong. Let's intentionally begin today.

Prayer:

Father, we invite You into that. We can’t do it without You, we can do nothing without You, and we don't want to do anything without You. Anything we've ever attempted to do without You has been a catastrophe and we’ve learned that we can continue to repeat the same patterns, or we can lift our hands in surrender asking for Your help. And we’re asking for Your help. We want to collaborate with You. This life isn't about everything that we can create and You are the add-on, You are the secret sauce, You are the one that provides the path forward. We’re in a different story than that. We’re in Your story and You have invited us to be a part of that story. We want to do Your will and we want to join You in the grand story, the ongoing never-ending story of redemption. Come Holy Spirit, help us to meditate on justice, mercy and humility today we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com is the website, home base, indeed where you find out what's going on around here. And indeed, it's Christmas time around here. So that’s mostly what's going on.

Daily Audio Bible Shop is open and there are some unique gift ideas there truly, truly unique gift ideas there. Maybe a gift to yourself is there waiting for you as well, something to commemorate and remind you of…of 2020 and the craziness of the year and the fact that we went through it together. We were in it together every step of the way. I mean the second people had to start keeping their distance we just kept going. This is…this is the beauty of who we are as a virtual community. And, so, we…maybe there's something that you want…you wanna use to remind yourself. There are plenty of…of ideas there. So, check out the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

The other thing is that we have been collecting the holiday greetings that we will put together and create our annual Christmas party. And, so, today's the last day we’re…we’re going to be collecting those. So, if you've procrastinated a little bit maybe don't forget this is the last day. All you gotta do is hit the Hotline button in the app the same way we would submit a prayer request or encouragement. Hit the Hotline button in the app and share your holiday greeting, or you can dial 877-942-4253 and share your holiday greeting. The only rule is that just don't combine a holiday greeting and a prayer request in the same call. Just make those separate this time. And, so, we’ll…we’ll collect those today and then get to work on putting everything together so we can have our Christmas party. And I look forward to that tremendously.

If you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible, you can do that at dailyaudiobible.com. There is a link on the homepage, and I thank you humbly and profoundly…yeah…humbly and profoundly, those are the right words. Thank you for your partnership. We wouldn't be here if we weren't in this together. So, there is a link on the homepage. And you press the Give button if you’re using the app, and that's in the upper right-hand corner or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement 877-942-4253 is the number to dial or you can just hit the Hotline button in the app, which is the little red button up at the top and you won't…you won’t…you won’t miss it. It looks like a Hotline button. You can just press that and share from wherever you are in the world.

And that is it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hey Daily Audio Bible family this is John calling from Bethlehem Pennsylvania hope you’re doing great today. It’s the 12th of December at about 9:10 AM and I just got through listening to the program for 11th of December and listening to the…the prayers that came in and wanted to first thank Grandpa Bob for his prayer for Halo. Such great words of advice for you Halo and such great wisdom from Grandpa Bob. And he’s right, we love you. God loves you. And…and other colors that have called, you know, about Halo’s situation like that day too we heard from Walta the burning bush and what a beautiful prayer you prayed, you know, over…over her and over the person that’s, you know, being a bully or being mean to her. Just beautiful Walta. So, thank you Grandpa Bob and thank you Walta for praying over Halo. You know, we’re joined together in prayer and, you know, where two or more people this goes right to the father Halo. So, you’re in great hands and we do love you. We want to hear your praise report when you call back in. Also, there was a caller. You didn’t leave your name sweetheart but you were talking about how you’re so distracted with things and that you’re…you’re sick, physically sick even because you’re so distracted by everything is going on. Sweetheart…heavenly Father thank You so much for this…for this woman that she’s seeking You and that she’s calling in her prayer God. Touch her in a special way, Lord Jesus. Help her to focus and bring her clarity. Help her to cut out all of the junk from her life that’s bringing fear and anxiety to her and have her stay close to You. I’m praying for You sweetheart. I’ll keep You lifted up in Jesus’ name. Amen.

Hi, my names Hudson and I…I live in New Mexico and I’m just praying for my brother who has diabetes. He has…he had diabetes for 15 years and they just want to…I just want to pray that he gets better from diabetes. And I thank you Brian for be…for praying for all those here. I listen to it every day. Thank you.

Good afternoon DAB family God bless you all. A DABber called at about a 95 dad that is able to understand the meaning of salvation right before he went to be with the Lord and surrounded by family. That is such a beautiful story and so encouraging and I am praying for the peace of God to be with you all and comforting you as I know that your dad will be missed. You know, Laura Lee from Boyden Beach welcoming new listeners. Amen. Praise you Jesus. Please continue to call in those new listeners we love to hear from you. Pamela from Canada called in about your son Ray in Jamaica. We are praying for the for that he is going to turn his life over to Jesus as well as other family members in the name of Jesus. And I’m also praying for these things that are attacking your body. I don’t want I even name them. I am praying for the healing of the Jesus Christ that we serve to be upon you in the name of Jesus. Blind Tony, I love your poems. God bless you in the name of Jesus. And Joe to Treasure, you know, you are a treasure. You called in about recognizing our voices and how we are to recognize the voice of the One and only One that we serve, Jesus Christ. We thank you. And yes, may we always be mindful about the voices that we recognize and always wanting to hear the voice of God in the midst of everything. Russell from superior daughter injecting drugs we bind that in the name of Jesus. We bind those drugs in the name of Jesus. I am binding those spirits that is trying to hold her down in the name of Jesus. Barb from Alberta called to say thank you for this community. You say you only call in every couple years but you know what sis we love you and we want to hear from you. God bless you all. Esther from Orlando.

Hi this is Lita I would like to pray for Harold to have the sun with diabetes and if there was another person that called in who also had a loved one diabetes. I also have a son with type I diabetes and so I understand the heart ache of having to walk alongside someone dealing with this terrible disease. So, Father I lift up Harold and I lift up the other person and myself Lord, all of us having loved ones with type I diabetes and I pray for healing Lord. I pray for good management of numbers. I just pray for Your wisdom and for Your guidance Lord and I pray for Your deliverance and I pray Lord for Your…Your rescue of us Lord from this disease. And I just pray Lord that You would help, that You would heal, that You would deliver. Lord You’re all that we have, You are our everything, the only one we can turn to and we turn to You Lord. Thank You.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible family this is Regis calling from Nairobi. Today I’m calling just to pray…to pray and join Gloria in prayer. Gloria from Camp Paula Uganda just a neighbor here. Gloria, I heard your…your request. You are requesting a prayer. You’ve been promoted but they’ve included also many things like faith management and song, but your salaries still not really reviewed yet. We pray that the Lord will release and increase your salary so you will be able to take care of your family. And I pray that the Lord will open up doors for bigger blessings, doors for international opportunities. I pray that the Lord will make you a blessing for your family. I pray that the Lord will make even this next year 2021 easier and better than this year and better than many of the years, the past years. I pray that the Lord will stretch His hand upon you, favor you all the ways. May God bless you may God keep you and protect you and your family. We love you. God bless you. Have a blessed day. Bye-bye, Regis…

[ranger-kellyn]

11 Favorite Excerpts

In honor if it being the 11 year anniversary of the first fic I ever posted, Platinum Bound, I thought I’d list out 10 of my favorite excerpts from everything I’ve posted so far, 1 from something I haven’t posted yet, and then kind of just. Talk about it~

As always, feel free to talk to me about any of my fics, no matter how old or new~ I’m very vain~<3

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1 - Come With Me - Prologue - 03/02/2015 - Completed

A day that was supposed to be filled with sorrow and mourning had turned out to be very lovely. The cold that had long persisted since November had decided to lighten its icy grip on this one day in particular. It was almost a tragedy in itself that the weather failed to match the mood by pouring a relentless downpour. Rain was fit for a funeral. Not sunshine.

The opening to Come With Me has always had a special place in my heart, and while I know my writing has gotten better since then, I always hold up this opening as like...my premium brand, I suppose.  I love the mood the prologue sets up for Siebold’s side of the story.  Mismatched weather.  His parents having the same death date.  A sense of odd relationship dynamics with them.  Clear indication that there’s going to be a lot of conflict with Jean as shown by Diantha, Siebold’d childhood friend, who has a clear disdain towards him.  CWM may not be my BEST WORK, but it’s probably one of my favorites.  ALSO....come on...the restaurant’s name is Apple of The Earth, which is a direct translation of pomme de terre, which is French for potato.  And like???? i just get a little kick out of it every time

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2 - It Takes Two - 12/16/2014 - Oneshot

Siebold chuckled.  “A water dark type?  My, my.  You’ve already put yourself at a disadvantage. Cress shook his head.  “Don’t give away your secret ingredient just yet, Siebold.  Leave something to the imagination, please,” he teased.

If there is ONE THING I LOVE it’s writing flirty banter for these two, and this fic if full of it.  My first fic for Cress/Siebold, staking my claim on the pool noodle that is this ship.  I AM the captain of this pool noodle

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3 - Second Chances - Chapter 7 - 06/14/2017 - Ongoing

“It was supposed to be me!” . . . Shaking, she stopped herself in the front hallway.  Looking over the large, glass-famed map, she felt as though she was leaving her own body as she slammed herself against it in a last ditch effort to feel something other than emotional pain.  In an effort to put a physical wound to her emotional one. 

There’s plenty of happier lines from this fic I could choose.  Ch 10 had a section I was considering instead, but I think this emotionally charged section has always stood out for me. I like to generally characterize Cynthia as someone who is in control of her emotions, or at the very least, is very good at compartmentalizing things, but here, she absolutely loses it.  No rationality.  No seeking help.  Just raw pain.  It was supposed to be me. Because it was!  It absolutely was!  In the previous chapter you learn that Diantha had fully intended to propose to her!  But was instead manipulated by her mother and manager into leaving Cynthia.  While Cynthia didn’t know that, we do, and that makes that line so much more painful to me.  I swear.  ONE DAY.  I’ll actually finish this fic.

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4 - Fortune and Fame - Chapter 1 - 03/23/2016 - Completed

“The best part of that outfit would be taking it off.” Her mouth turns into a smile. “I should think so,” she tells you.

Second person POV is a HUGE pain in the ass, but I still love this silly little fic, and I love this silly little moment EVEN MORE.  What can I say.  I love flirty banter. This whole fic was an absolute experiment, and while it certainly could be better, considering 2POV is not something I regularly work with, I’ve never been too upset with it.

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5 - Stockholm - Chapter 4 - 06/20/2016 - Ongoing

“You’re my mission and my mission alone.  I don’t need outside help,” he tells me. I catch myself about to laugh.  “Figured you would welcome it seeing as whatever you think you’re doing to me clearly isn’t working.” He moves closer, enough for me to feel the warmth of his body, but it’s only when I think he’s looking at my lips do I come to my senses, pulling my legs up to my person, and pushing back up against the wall. “I would say it’s working just fine.”

i like to think of this fic as me playing in a sandbox.  i don’t REALLY know what i’m doing, but i’m having fun, and that’s all that matters. This is a fic I had been thinking about for the longest time.  I abandoned it back in 2016.  I don’t really remember why, but I posted the first update early this year, and I just.  I’ve been loving it since.  I haven’t played in first person in SUCH a long time, it’s just nice to play in the space, and explore a darker emotion I guess.  Game verse Commander Saturn/Dawn is always a weakness of mine

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6 - Shadows of My Heart - Chapter 4 - 02/22/2011 - Completed

Looking at Kellyn, I notice that he has taken his jacket off and is now offering it to me. Shaking my head, I tell him that I can't take it, even though I would love nothing more than to take him up on his offer. He walks closer, smiling as he places his jacket over me. Now, the only thing I hear is the sound of the rain bouncing off of Kellyn's jacket, and the sound my own heartbeat. I'd have to be crazy or dead to not be blushing right now, and obviously my pulse is still going…

if you’ve followed me for a few years, you might think this is a weird pick for me.  i complain about it a lot.  i experience a lot of visceral cringe whenever i reread it (Like i did just now searching for a section i liked) But that’s why I like it.  I love having this visible benchmark of where I’ve come from, and where my ideals have shifted to.  I’ve always written Kellyn as my Ideal Man™© and in this fic he is suCH A “NICE GUY” AND IT’S JUST. SO BAD. I’M SO GLAD I’M NOT WITH THE KIND OF PERSON I USED TO WISH I WAS WITH. This fic is, at best, clumsy.  Younger me was venting a LOT of stuff. Everything I put Rhythmi through in the fic, I was dealing with irl, and NOT handling them well.  I never recommend this for reading, but I list it here because it’s like looking in a time capsule.  

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7 - Washington Blues - Chapter 2 - 04/30/2012 - Abandoned Work

Looking back up at me, the afternoon sun shines on her face.  As if I needed to be reminded that she is very pretty.  “I believe that it is too soon to be giving a definite answer, but,” she pauses to brush some hair behind her ear, “I do believe I am going to like it here.” I nod, liking the answer she has provided.  I put my pink bag over my shoulder, and step down the stairs.  “That’s good to hear.  I do hope you come to love our little band,” I say, putting a little emphasis on “our”.  Hopefully she will start using that term as well.

This fic has been abandoned since 2012, but as I was rereading it just now, I...felt a weird urge to give it a second chance?  Marching band was my EVERYTHING in high school.  It was basically my personality.  It and Homestuck.  If nothing else, I think I might give this fic a redo, because it’s something my younger self would have loved.  I had so many ideas I wanted to explore and I think it would be a fun space to explore. Just reading it I got the most tactile memories of band camp, from the sounds, all the way down to the god awful smells.  One day I’ll give this fic another go, but probably in 3rd person lmao.  Also, it’s kind of funny.  I remember holding this fic up as like.  My Magnum Opus.  I considered chapter 1 to be the BEST thing I had written up to that point. Now? It’s so fucking D RY......and no real person talks like they all do l m a o I love being able to see how far I’ve come. 

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8 - Hindsight - Sometime Feb 2014?  - Oneshot for an old RP group

This question led him to placing both of his hands in his lap.  “I would never describe her as winter.  It’s the season she hates the most.  From what I’ve gathered during our travels together, understandably so,” he answered, not meeting her eyes. 

While this fic is OLD it holds a very special place in my heart.  I had stopped writing for a while.  For about 2 years nothing I wrote ever really panned out, and joining that RP group was literally the best thing I could have done for my creativity.  It was so much fun, and I met some truly incredible people thanks to it.  Literally, everything I’ve written since I attribute to that group.  <3 I may not talk to most of them anymore, but I have some of the best memories of that time, and I just.  Genuinely don’t think I would have HALF of what I have written now if it hadn’t been for their support.  <3

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9 - Ours For The Taking - Chapter 2 - 01/28/2012 - Abandoned Work

Killing is in the nature of almost every Pokémon, but we humans have inhibited that out for the most part. It doesn't take much to trigger the instinct though. A couple kills and then they thirst for blood.

Now i know this looks like a WACK ASS PICK.  It’s been abandoned since 2012.  It’s bad.  It’s gore.  It’s bad.  But that’s exactly why I picked it.  That, and I know it would chap Farla’s ass bc she told me years ago how awful this fic was. The whole reason my writing confidence took a blow.  I can look back and know that this fic wasn’t great, but I hate for my younger self that they were knocked down like that.  You can’t learn the boundaries of your writing until you try to push them.  Maybe I could have turned into a great gore/horror writer if I hadn’t been knocked down?  Who knows?  But because of that negative experience, I now approach all comments I leave on fics with “unconditional positive regard”.  I firmly believe if someone wants con-crit they’ll ask for it, and even then, I’m not someone who is going to offer up that criticism.  That’s not my jam.  I’m just here for a good time.  This fic may be bad, but that’s why I love it.  I love how over the top, 2Edgy4me the two chapters are. 

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10 - Getaway Car - Chapter 5 - 01/01/2019 - Ongoing

Pulling away just enough to make them look at one another, Cynthia looked her over.  She was getting more drunk admissions than she ever thought she would, and she was in no frame of mind to worry about pushing her luck.  “How did that make you feel?” she asked. She let her hand trail down her arm as she spoke.  “Grounded.  Like nothing else in the world mattered except us in that moment.  I wasn’t worried about filming, deadlines, what people might say or think, or– anything, really.  All that mattered was the calm you brought me, and how without meaning to you’ve made me feel like the most important person in the room.”

It’s no secret that Getaway Car is like.  MY BABY.  This is MY FIC.  MY BABY.  I CHERISH THIS FIC FOR SO MANY REASONS. I like venting through characters, and this fic is no exception.  But I loved writing this moment specifically, because it just...I think it encapsulates everything Diantha has been looking for.  She lives a charmed, chaotic life.  Up to that point in the fic, she’s with a man who can’t really be bothered to give her the time of day, but also can’t handle the idea of letting her go.  Without meaning to, without necessarily trying to, Cynthia makes her feel like the most important person in the room.  She grounds her, and someone who lives a star-studded life needs that.  This fic is my baby.  My everything.  It’s probably what I’m known for at this point, and I’m A-OK with that because these two are my everything.  (ALSO, I specifically posted this fic when I did to get Farla to leave me a review, and had a good laugh about it when she did.  My “bat shit crazy” plot device has ended up being my most popular fic~)

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11 - Namtaflu - Chapter _ - Draft from NaNoWriMo 2019

The sound of something rising to the surface of the water attracted everyone’s attention.  Turning their eyes towards the water, one by one, countless Starmie and Staryu began to surface, floating atop the water, their bright gem center’s shining in the moonlight.  “Oh, wow,” Bianca said, holding the Audino closer to herself.  "What are they doing?” Hilbert asked, turning himself so he wasn’t having to strain to look at them.  Cheren shrugged.  “They’ve always done this.” "They’re looking at the stars,” Hilda added.  “It’s what Nona would always tell me.  She said she read it in a book somewhere.  They surface at night to look at the stars, and they’ll even start blinking here soon.”  As she said it, from out in the distance, quick flashes of red began to move along the waves, reminding both her and Cheren of fireflies from further south.  Soon enough, the entire shoreline was filled with the water pokémon blinking away at the stars, almost as if they were communicating with each other, or even something else.  A few Audino continued to sit with them, everyone moved to silence by the display, afraid to make a single noise, not wanting to scare them at all and make them stop.  The display moved in waves, like a heartbeat, ebbing and flowing.  At times they were bright enough to cast a glow onto the shore, and at others it seemed like they had collectively stopped for the night. Once Broadway and Manhattan had decided to retire for the night, the group came to an agreement that it was time they retired for the night as well.  They had stayed up long past sundown, but it had been worth every second.   

I won’t be posting this fic WELL until my three current ongoing fics are completed, but this fic is pretty much everything to me.  I first got the idea for this fic back in 2013, my senior year of high school.  I wrote the first draft my first NaNoWriMo in 2014, and did a second draft of it last year.  This fic has evolved SO MUCH, but this last draft is where I’m REALLY happy with it.  I firmly believe there’s never a “right time” to write a fic, but I also believe this fic absolutely benefited from me not posting it after that first draft.  They’re almost two entirely different stories.  The original had a lot of unhealthy relationship dynamics, and this time, i decided, FUCK THAT, and now it’s a hilda/hilbert/cheren/bianca poly fic ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ I can’t wait for the day when I actually get to share this fic with the world. 

[godlydolans]

Concept: gray meeting his soulmate in his late 20s and she’s from somewhere like Europe or Asia and she’s just moved to LA after getting her master’s degree in the UK

12.

That is the age when people get the first words that their soulmate will ever say to them, etched into their skin. Ever since he found out about soulmates through his grandma, Grayson Dolan just could not wait to turn 12 so he could know what those first words would be.

But the day he did turn 12 years old along with his brother, the poor boy's excited smile upon looking at the new ink that now resided on his arm, turned into a confused frown when he didn't understand what the words meant.

Pazi gdje ideš, idiote!

Hell, he couldn't even pronounce them. The only word he did know the meaning of was 'idiote' because that word had to have something to do with 'idiot', a word his big sister often used for him and his twin.

He showed the tattoo to Ethan first, seeing the words that were written on Ethan's skin too. His twin had 'Um, excuse me-you're blocking the door.' inked on his arm. None of that foreign shit.

"Whoa bro, you're getting yourself a foreigner chic!" Ethan had clpped Grayson on the back, grinning from ear to ear as he examined his own arm. "Mine seems to be wanting to run away from me before even meeting me."

Grayson had spent the whole day either staring at the unfamiliar words on his arm or running around and asking every family member if they could translate the words to him.

"I don't know what this says, sweetheart." His aunt had ruffled his hair, her heart melting at his sad pout as he hung his head at the unfortunate news.

"At least tell me which language it is?" He sounded so hopeful when he lifted his head and looked at his uncle's wife again.

"I don't think I know, Gray."

Grayson is the romantic, an avid believer in love and soulmates so it's a no brainer that he's been waiting for the day someone would yell at him in Bosnian about 'watching where he's going'. Its been years and years and years, but the day has unfortunately never come.

Cameron already found her soulmate and the woman is smitten, so in love, its sickening. Thank God, Ethan still hasn't found his girl because if he would have, Grayson would have gone mad. He wants to feel that love too, he's been waiting for so long.

The twins love to talk about the possible ways they could meet their soulmates. It only makes him want her more. He doesn't even know her name, doesn't even know what she looks like. He wishes she would hurry.

"Cam is so fucking lucky she found Jack in uni, bro." Ethan runs his hands through his hair, looking at the words on his arm. "I wonder what's written on her arm."

Grayson just shrugs, laying down on the couch opposite Ethan. "You'll find out when she decides to walk into your life, bro. It's all upto them now, we tried all we could to find them. Traveled the world at just 16 just so we could find my foreigner."

Ethan watches his brother starts to pout like he usually does when he talks about his foreigner. That's what they call her, Grayson's foreigner.

"Aww Gray, don't worry! Your foreigner chick is out there somewhere. At least you know you'll meet her. Some people don't even get anything inked on their skin."

Grayson nods. Ethan is right. At least he is sure he will meet his girl, unlike some people who never meet their other half. Bringing his arm infront of him, he traces the words with his finger. "We are going to be 27 this year. She better hurry or I'm gonna go to Bosnia and hunt her down."

His brother sighs, "If she even is in Bosnia."

Hey foreigner, I've been waiting for you longer than I've ever waited for anything. Please come to me soon, I really wanna know you. He speaks to her in his head, like he usually does when he is feeling particularly lonely.

His foreigner chick finally listened.

Y/N wasn't having the best day. Her first week in LA and it was already going horribly bad. The poor girl fell ill on the day she landed three days ago. She had just started to feel better yesterday and today, mother nature slapped her in the face again with her period.

Today also happened to be the day she needed to go grocery shopping because the food supplies were quickly disappearing. The grocery store was quite close to her house but the freaking traffic made her sit in her car for an additional 20 minutes before she reached her destination.

In the grocery store, the line in front of the cash register was endless and she was starting to feel her cramps getting worse and worse to the point where she just wanted to curl up in a ball in bed with a heating pad pressed to her stomach. Not to mention, the woman right behind her kept bickering with her little son to 'keep the toy back, Noah! Go keep it back where you got it from, I'm not buying you anymore-I'm calling your dad if you don't keep it back right now, young man!"

And then, just to make her day even more amazing, note the sarcasm, the poor girl got toppled over by what felt like a bulldozer on her way to her car that was parked down the street. She had her shopping bags in one hand and her keys in the other and she had just rounded a corner when one hulk of a man ran into her, literally, sending her falling on the ground, right on her butt.

She didn't even get to see the face or hear the voice, she just saw red as her eyes teared up at the excruciating pain the fall gave her already aching abdomen and she just shouted the first thing that came to mind.

"Pazi gdje ideš, idiote!" She yelled, picking up the key ring that fell beside her with the deadliest frown on her face. "Couldn't have gotten a better welcome to America."

Grayson stood still in front of her, not being able to believe that this girl just said the exact words he's been dying to hear since the age of 12. The same words he'd memorized by heart.

"Holy fuck, it's you."

And now it was her turn to stop collecting all the items that fell out of her shopping bag and turn to look up at the man who uttered the words that have been etched into her skin since the age of 12.

The man she sees is Grayson freaking Dolan. The guy she had a massive crush on when she was young, the guy whose videos she used to watch every Tuesday without fail few years back. She never thought she would meet the man, yet here he is.

Her soulmate.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" He finally snaps out of his surprised state and sees that she is on the floor, her stuff lying around her because he slammed into her. "This-I didn't-I'm so-"

"Its okay," she can't keep her eyes off his face. He is so much more beautiful up close, the cameras don't do him justice. Grayson squats down and finally came face to face with her, seeing her up close without the glare of the sun making him blind.

And it feels like the world stops and starts spinning around her. Here she is, the woman he has been dying to meet all his life, the girl he's been waiting for all these years.

His foreigner chick. She is right in front of him and he can't look away. It's not like he hasn't seen beautiful girls before, but for some reason, this girl's beauty makes him forget the basic need to breath. Her eyes are not the rarest colour, yet he can't seem to look away from them. His heart feels like its finally beating right after all these years that he's been alive. The whole world seems brighter and more lively now that she is in front of him and now he knows how Cameron is so in love with her soulmate.

It's crazy. He thought love at first sight didn't happen in real life!

"Hi, I'm Grayson."

"Y/N."

Ethan, who just arrived at the scene watching how his brother and this mystery girl are looking at each other and it does not take long for him to put two and two together. This is how his dad used to look at his mom, how his sister looks at her man.

"Oh great, he's found his foreigner." He says to himself, feeling happy for his brother but sad for himself. Looking down at his arm, he sighs, "Foreigner is here too. When are you planning on paying me a visit?"

To an outsider, it would look like the guy is crazy, talking to his own arm. But the guy is desperate! Now that Grayson has his girl, Ethan wants his own too!

[huntertales]

Part Three: Where The Wild Things Roam, It’s Home. (Taxi Driver S08E19)

Episode Summary: Sam, Dean and the reader respond to a call from a terrified Kevin who claims to hear Crowley’s voice in his head. Also with the good news that he’s discovered the second trial from the tablet—rescue an innocent soul from hell. The reader has to team up with a reaper named Ajay to complete the task, meanwhile the boys get a visit from the angel Naomi. But when things go awry, Dean must find Benny and ask him for a huge favor. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 6,477.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

You didn't know how many times you repeated the story about how you landed yourself here; knocked up, walking through Purgatory after taking a trip down to Hell. It was all part of the trials you had to complete in order to slam the place that ruined your life before you were even born. Bobby knew about the part where you faked your own death. But you didn't get to go into further detail about how you managed to trick him and the boys. While on the hike back to the spot where Ajay told you to meet him, you told Bobby everything you went through during your time away together. From making a deal with Cas in that hospital room to your life as Y/F/N. And how you found the boys again several months ago. After you literately bumped into Dean. 

You jumped ship right before the wall in Sam's head collapsed and Cas thought he was God 2.0. The aftermath was followed by Sam having hallucinations of Lucifer in his head every single day of the week, twenty four hours a day. Not to mention the torture he experienced in the cage. Cas went on a power trip for a while before coming face to face with the mess he made. Bobby and the boys faced up against a monster old as Eve herself. Not to mention the worst thing of all, Bobby died thinking you were gone. There was never a fear that you might have been stuck as Y/F/N for the rest of your life. Dean and Cas could have been stuck in Purgatory. The only person who might have had a happening ending was Sam...of course nothing lasts forever.

Dean got out of Purgatory after running around this place for a year, Sam was torn away from his happy life with Amelia and they bumped into a familiar face with a different name while they were trying to find a prophet on the loose after escaping the clutches of the king of hell. All it took was a dead husband and a demon for you to remember who you were again. It was like a switch went off in your head. The boys caught you up on things that went down while you were gone. It was your first day back in your own head space was when you heard about Kevin's discovery of how to close the gates of hell for good. However, it took a few more months after that until he discovered the first trial. 

“I’m surprised the boys are even letting you out of their sight in your condition. Dean especially. After all that went down...He was devastated after you died—well, we thought you did. Tried just about everything to get you back. But he was so caught up in helping Sam with this hell business. And Cas being off his rocker. The poor son of a bitch didn’t catch a break.” Bobby said. The glimpse into the grief you left behind made you feel a familiar twinge of guilt at your past choices. “Hell, it was a loss for all of us. You were the glue that kept those boys together.”

“Something like that.” You mumbled back to him, your lips stretching into a faint smile. You didn’t have the heart to tell him about the falling almost falling out the boys had over choices of people they wanted to call friends. Of a past they didn’t want to let go of just yet. All of you were on better terms than in the beginning of the year. 

“You and Dean find out what you’re having yet?” Bobby couldn’t help himself but jump back to the baby talk, there were too many questions of his that he wanted to ask before your time together was cut off again for good. You could see a glint of happiness in his eyes at hearing the news that you and the boys were having an addition to the family. “Or are you too early to figure all that stuff out?”

“We want it to be a surprise. Sounds cliched, but we don’t care. Long as they’re healthy.” You said. You placed a hand on your stomach while you continue your walk through the woods, feeling the bump made your smile slightly grow wider. “If it’s a boy, I want to name him Robert junior. I’m thinking for a girl...Roberta. Hmm? You like that?”

“Sure. If you want the poor kid to get the crap kicked out of her on the playground. Considering it’s you and Dean’s kid, I’m sure they’ll be the ones doing all the fighting. Ooh, they’re gonna be a handful. Especially if it’s a girl.” Bobby said. He chuckled to himself at the shenanigans an elementary school aged child would get themselves into, Dean trying his hardest to lay down the law. “They’re gonna get themselves into plenty of trouble and raise a lot of hell. You and the boys are gonna have your hands full raising them.”

“Oh God. I don’t even want to think about the stuff they’re going to try and pull. They’ve already been making my life hell from every weird symptom coming my way. Morning sickness was a bitch trying. Luckily that's gone, but I can't seem to stomach the smell of meat. Which is a little weird if you think, considering how much Dean loves his burgers.” You said. You softly patted the bump before dropping your hand back down to your side. “I can’t wait for this to be over.” 

Bobby fell silent for a moment while the both of you continued your hike through the woods. You pulled out your phone from your pocket, knowing well enough you weren't checking for reception, but to see how much time you had left until you made it to the finish line. A question lingered in the back of his mind the more you told him about these trials. "Why are you doing this?" You turned your head up from what he asked to give him a confused look as to what he meant by that. "I mean, you must've fought tooth and nail just to keep hunting. Hell, if  were still alive, there'd be no way you would be setting foot out on a hunt.”

"Trust me when I say they were livid. Sam didn't want me anywhere near this. And Dean wanted to be the one who did this. But, I sort of...stole it out from under him." You slightly explained the situation to how you got here to Bobby. "The night of the first trial was a complete mess. I didn't want Dean to do it because everything to him is a suicide mission. And, a part of me felt like this was a chance to right some wrongs. Give our kid a better future.” 

“So, how many more of these trials after this?’ Bobby asked. 

“Just one. We don’t know what it is, though—not yet. Kevin’s still translating.” You said. “The kid’s been under a lot of pressure lately, but I’m hoping he’ll figure it out sooner than later.” 

“Well, you saw back there in hell, I ain’t got a lot of rust. Just feels so good to be back in action again. Might be handy if you had me around to help while you’re on maternity leave” Bobby suggested an idea that sounded like music to your ears. A happy ending that you would have loved to make true. “And you know, having an extra set of hands around never hurt anybody."

“Bobby, I’d love that, believe me. There’s nothing in this world I would give for you to come back with me. The thing is," You told him the truth with a heavy sigh you should have told him back in hell, "for this trial to be completed, your soul has to enter heaven. And besides, if that weren't the case, the boys burned your bones, Bobby. There's nothing to tie your spirit to Earth."

“Yeah. Yeah, well…” The smile that graced Bobby’s face slowly began to fall as the older hunter tried to hide his disappointment at hearing his fate. “You know, I always figured that’d be the end of it. You know, just a hunter’s funeral. Zip. Nothing. And I was okay with that. Imagine my surprise.”  

"Well, I guess if there has to be an eternity, I'd pick Heaven over Hell." You said, giving him your two cents on the matter. “Speaking of personal experience. Upstairs isn’t all that bad.”

"Yeah. 'Cause there's nothing screwy going on up there." Bobby's sarcasm made you chuckle. You wished you made the rules about life and death, but your hands were tied on the matter. The both of you began your way back to the spot where Ajay told you to meet him at with just minutes to spare. "I'll do my part, get to the end of this...I ain't exactly the retiring type. So, you idjits figure out a way to spring me..."

“Yeah. No, of course. That’s, uh—yeah.” You found yourself letting out a jumble of words to try and respond back to Bobby’s request you were half listening to. You found yourself circling around the woods to see if you might have gotten the location wrong, or if you could spot Ajay in the distance of endless looking woods. Maybe you could spot him staring down at his watch with a slightly annoyed look at how you didn't listen to his command about being punctual. But there was nobody around. 

“Oh, well, let’s go topside.” Bobby said, wanting to get a start on things so you could finish this. But you had a feeling that wasn’t going to be possible. You tried your hardest not to panic just yet as you took one more sweep around the woods, hoping you might be able to spot Ajay. But he was nowhere to be seen. “What’s going on, Y/N?”

“This is it. This is the place. I’m sure of it.” You muttered to yourself. You tried somehow reassure your worrying mind that you weren't going crazy. You looked down at the ground to see there was the decapitated head of the monster that attacked you when you were alone after Ajay left. Bobby asked if this was where the reaper was supposed to meet you, you nodded your head and pulled out your phone to watch as the timer you set up began to tick down to the very last second. "Yeah. At exactly...now." 

‘’So, he’s running a little late.” Bobby tried to somehow reassure you. 

“No, see, that’s the thing. He was very specific, Bobby, like to the minute.” You told him. 

“And if he doesn’t show…?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to hear the answer himself. 

You felt yourself trying your hardest not to believe the words that came out of your mouth as the future you were looking towards. “We’ve got no way out.”

+ + +

Hunters weren't supposed to be friends with monsters. And vampires weren't supposed to be buddy-buddy with the human who was raised to kill blood thirty creatures like him. But there was an exception to every rule. People who broke the moral code. And people who learned from past mistakes that no matter how friendly a monster is to your face, they were kind as they lead themselves up to be. Sam didn't like Benny. Despite saving his brother from purgatory and supposedly feeding on blood bags than a live human to curb his hunger. There was something about the southern vamp that Sam couldn't let his guard down. Maybe it was because of his own experience of trusting the thing he was raised to hate. 

It started off with a sweet girl named Madison who was dragged into this lifestyle after she was bitten by a werewolf. Sam found himself falling into feelings he hasn’t experienced in a while, ever since his old girlfriend, and possibly the only love of his life, was tragically killed. He thought he could save her. Much as all of you tried to fight the curse, there was nothing else Sam could do other than to put a bullet in the back of her head to end her suffering. Sam should have learned his lesson, but the true test came in the form of a black eyed demon named Ruby. 

She whispered sweet nothings and empty promises into his ear for over two years about how he could save his brother and best friend from the big, bad demon named Lilith. While he might not have been able to accomplish his first task, Sam got revenge on the demon. And set the Devil himself to go running free. Get burned enough times and you learn stop being soft on people. There was an exception or two over the years. Sam trusted a monster just enough when he knew he could get something back from him. What he was about to agree to was like pushing all of his beliefs and conceptions about him out the window. 

For the longest time Sam thought Benny was like the rest of the vampires he hunted over the years. His brother's judgement was good most of the time. If Dean hadn't gone what he went through back in Purgatory, there would have been no way he would have became friends with something like Benny. But being put in an environment like Purgatory, where there was no hunter or prey, everyone was fighting to survive. And their bond transferred over back on Earth. Sam couldn't wrap his head around it. There was nothing more the younger Winchester wanted than to slice Benny's head off his neck and send him back where he belonged. Because that's what he thought the wrong thing to do was. It'd be only a matter of time until Benny slipped up and attacked some humans. At least, that's what he thought Benny was all about. 

Sam felt himself conflicted on what the right thing to do was in this situation. Ajay was slumped back in the driver’s seat, blood on his shirt. It wasn't hard to connect the dots that someone had killed him. Someone possibly caught wind of the demon you and the boys were interrogating and told their boss. You slipped up while you were in Hell. Whatever it was, this had Crowley's name written all over it. With Ajay dead, it meant you had no way back from purgatory. There was no way the boys had time to find another demon who would be willing to talk to them, it'd take more than just holy water for them to spill the name of another rouge reaper. It almost seemed like you were stuck there. Unless...unless Sam bit the bullet and trusted a vampire. The one he wanted to kill the second he meant him. Now Benny was the only chance at getting Sam's family back to where they belonged.

"How'd you get this one on board?" Benny asked, pointing a thumb casually to the younger man he knew hated his guts more than anything. Both men stood across from one another trying to act civilized as a hunter and vampire could be. 

"I'm not. This was all Dean's idea." Sam replied back to the vampire, his tone as cold as his attitude towards the vampire. "I'm sure he told you about what went down. We're out of options.”

"If you don't want to do this, we understand." Dean spoke up before the conversation could veer off the path he wanted everyone to focus on. The man felt guilt ridden at what he was asking his friend to do, the person who rescued him from that hell hole. Now he wanted him to go back to save the woman he loved. He hadn't quite felt this helpless before in a long, long while. 

"Wow." Benny smiled slightly, in a way that was almost unreadable. The boys weren't sure if the vampire was up for the challenge at what they were asking of him, or it was the audacity of them asking to do such a thing. "When Dean Winchester asks for a favor, he's not screwing around." 

"Benny, sending you back there is the last thing I ever wanted to do." Dean said, stressing the point he wanted to make very clear. Benny nodded his head. Both men created a bond through trauma they would never be able to shake off, no matter how much they tried to bury it down. He never wanted things to end up like this. But he was out of options. Benny might have been his friend, you were the love of his life. The woman he’d do anything for. Nothing in this world compared to what he had with you. His hands were tied. "But Y/N is stuck down there." 

“This would be the same Y/N who’s carrying your kid?” Benny asked, wanting to be sure the details were right on the things he was being told. You had only been about eight weeks along from the last time you saw him. Even back then, were determined nothing was going to get in your way. “Now, how in the hell did she manage to get into this mess?”

“Does it matter? This is the same person who helped your ass out when you needed it the most after you got topside.” Sam reminded the vampire about how you found some sort of good in something like Benny. You put your life on the line twice for him to help get him out of a sticky situation. The least he could do was to return the favor. “You got access to the place.” 

“By ‘access,’ you mean ‘getting beheaded’?” The vampire asked the hunter, wondering if they were on the same page here. 

Dean flinched at the things he was asking of Benny, speaking those words out loud made it seem even worse somehow. It was out of place for his friend to do such a thing for someone he barely knew. “Yeah, yeah you’re right—it’s too much.” He mumbled. “It’s not like I've been there for you lately.”

“What? Oh, come on Dean. You had your hands full lately.” Benny said. “And you know I love a good challenge.”

“Wait,” Sam found the response he was given by the vampire surprising at his willingness. “You’re serious?”

“Hey, she’s your family. And you’re right, Y/N was there for me when I needed a friend. It’s the least I could do.” Benny said. “I say let’s do this.”

Dean felt part relief, and part guilt at the things he was about to put Benny through. “I owe you.” 

“Oh, you don't owe me nothing. Truth is, uh... I could use a break from all this.” Benny admitted how he’d been feeling over the past several months since being back. Dean was taken aback at the confession. He thought the vampire would have been happy to breathe fresh air and not have to go about day to day life without running. It seemed Benny was longing for the familiarity of Purgatory. Much as it was hell, he grew used to it, sort of like a comfortable pain. He knew what to expect. “I'm not a good fit, Dean. Not with vampires and, for sure, not with the humans. I don't belong. And after a while...that starts to wear on you. Right?”

Benny found himself confessing more about the things he’d been feeling. He spent over fifty years in Purgatory, slaughtering and fighting his way to freedom. The portal to Earth was a whispered myth among kind like him. When Dean came along, it seemed this was his chance at getting out. But not everything fit his fantasy of what life was going to be like on the outside. Benny found himself longing for a place he once hated. 

The vampire let out a forced chuckle from how this conversation turned into him telling about his feelings. Sam, the one who had been against him this entire time, found his attitude changing. “Cry me a river. Like you need to listen to this. Guess you were right about me, Sam. It’s hard to walk the straight and narrow.”

“Well, when you get back up here, we're gonna fix all that, okay?” Dean told the vampire, knowing it was the least he could do. Benny found the promise of coming back to the place he just admitted to not fitting in rather odd. “Yeah, you find the portal, and your ride out of Purgatory with Y/N just like you did with me, okay? As soon as I send you back, we’re gonna haul our asses up to Maine, and we’re gonna be waiting there for you when you get topside.”

“Yeah. That sounds like a plan, chief.” Benny lied to the man, smiling at the promise of getting himself back to normal. “Let's get on with it.”

“You sure about this?” Dean asked, wanting to be ready for the final go ahead before he was about to kill his friend and send him back to that wasteland. 

“Not my first rodeo, man.” Benny reassured the hunter for what he was about to do. 

Dean inhaled a deep breath and walked over to the Impala, reaching inside the backseat to pull out a machete; the only thing to do this properly. A clean cut across the neck. It sounded simple enough, but doing it was going to be the most painful part of it. Sam swallowed at what Benny was willingly agreeing to. He stepped forward to the vampire and outstretched his hand. He wanted to show his gratitude at the things Benny was putting himself through for someone he only met twice. And for a friend he had to cut ties with for the sake of his family not being torn apart. Maybe Sam was wrong about Benny. He wasn’t that bad of a guy, after all.

“Thank you.” Sam said, his voice was filled with sincerity. 

“Y/N is your family.” Benny shrugged it off, as if this was going to be a walk in the park for him. At least that’s what it sounded like in his voice. Sam could see the emotion in Benny’s face, but he was doing his best to keep a strong face. Family, a friend that was there for them through the worst of times. The thing the Winchesters didn’t have much of anymore. Benny once had someone he called family. Sam had destroyed that relationship for him. “Besides, she saved my ass a few times. The least I could do.” 

The machete felt heavier in Dean's hand than the other times he held it to this. He couldn't shake off this terrible feeling sitting in the center of his chest. He approached Benny and outstretched his hand for him to shake. Benny grabbed ahold of it, only to pull him into a tight hug as friends do. Dean mumbled what felt to be the hundredth time of him thanking his friend for the selfless act he was doing. Both men pulled away to step back into their respective spots, Sam lingered a safe distance away. For someone who didn't like Benny from the first time he met him, he felt guilty as his brother for asking to do such a thing. 

"Well, come on." Benny spoke up after a few grueling long seconds. He cracked a smile, trying to help ease the hesitation. "You a wimp?"

There was no going back with the plan; Dean inhaled a deep breath, and without thinking twice about it, swung the machete up and sliced right through Benny's neck. The brothers watched as the vampire's head slowly slid off his body and fell to the pavement. It'd be no time until Benny found himself back in Purgatory where the first step of this plan would come into action. The boys wasted no time in cleaning up the mess and getting themselves up to Maine where they nervously hoped to be greeted with two familiar faces and a soul that needed to go where he rightfully belonged.

+ + +

You were doing everything in your power not to freak yourself with the thought that you might be longer than you anticipated here. Forever was what your mind was tricking you into thinking. You nervously swallowed down the anxiety and calm yourself down with the thought that the boys were probably coming up with a way to get you out of this. But how? There were only two ways to get yourself into this place; if you were a monster. And you knew of a rogue reaper who forgot about the strict timeframe he stuck you on. You had a feeling Ajay wasn't going to be picking you up. Which meant you were stranded here in Monsterland until you figured out a way out of here before it was too late. 

"Dean spent a year in this place?" Bobby asked in disbelief. You told him about the repercussions of killing a leviathan and standing too close to him. The consequences left Cas and the older Winchester to be stuck in this monster version of hell. Trying to survive and find their way out, thanks to a friendly vampire. You had a feeling Benny was one of a kind. All the monsters here were too busy killing one another to form an alliance

“Running and fighting, all day, everyday." You said. "It took him a while to come back down to reality. This place messed up pretty badly. Honestly, I can't blame him. It’s only been a day and this place is giving me the creeps.” 

"Must have been hell on Sam for not being able to get him out all that time." Bobby said. You winced slightly at what you heard the older Winchester say, you turned your gaze away from him to hide the disappointing answer you had to give him. Bobby was smart enough to put the pieces together. "Sam did try, didn't he?"

"Look, Bobby," You let out a sigh from how he was going to react at the truth you were going to have to tell him. While you didn't agree with the actions Sam took, you felt it would have been hypocritical from what you did. So you tried to defend him the best you could. "We all have an agreement on when these things happen, okay?"

"I know that agreement. I thought those boys that agreement. That's a non-agreement." Bobby, rightfully so, took the information with anger at the actions Sam had done. He turned his back on his own family. Something none of you had ever done. You gave him a defeated look at how he let his own brother suffer for a year, feeling partially responsible for how things turned out. The few months you came back were rocky, almost the point you feared nothing would be the same again. And while they were talking about it always brought up undelt emotions. "I get the feeling a lot must have happened while I was gone." 

You scoffed at the understatement he had given the situation. It was a complicated mess that ended with both of the brothers having to sever ties with two people they grew closer to over the year of their absence from another. At times you wondered if the situation was fixed after all. You wanted to tell Bobby more about it, but you forgot for a second about where you were currently at the moment. Standing around in Purgatory of all places like a bunch of sitting ducks. This was how you got yourself killed. Bobby managed to warn you about the company approaching you. You let out a frustrated sigh at the sight of three monsters heading towards you. 

Without a moment of hesitation, you quickly swung your weapon and decapitated the monster before he could harm you first. You turned your head in time to see the second one attacked Bobby, and before the older man could be killed for another time, you came to his rescue and killed the monster. While you had managed to take down two of the threats, you had no time at all to figure out the third one was behind you, ready to attack. But before he could lay even a finger on you, someone else joined the fight and grabbed the creature, throwing him down to the ground to take care of it himself.

The commotion didn’t go unnoticed by Bobby, who saw another monster with his teeth ripping into the flesh of the one who tried to attack you. To the older hunter all he could think was how this was survival of the fittest, you and him were just a piece of meat for these monsters to either eat or kill, even if it meant killing others to get his hands on you. But that wasn’t the case for the person who you saw. Right as Bobby was about to take a swing at the creature who saved your life, you managed to stop him. 

“Bobby, no, no, wait! Wait! Wait!” You grabbed ahold of his arm and somehow managed to pin it up in the best as you could, giving the creature a chance to stand back up to his feet. You watched as Benny Lafitte, a vampire you hadn’t seen months, spit out the blood from his mouth, showing off his fangs as he got up to a standing position. You blinked, not sure how you should feel about seeing a familiar face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Benny’s response made you feel partially relieved at the circumstances at how he got himself a one way ticket to Purgatory. “Dean sent me.”

“Dean?” Bobby repeated the name of the man who would have never done such a thing, being friends with a vampire. You somehow managed to hold him off before he could do something stupid by hurting Benny like he wanted. He was angry, and rightfully so. Hunters weren’t buddy-buddy with monsters. Especially not for someone like a Winchester. “Not my Dean.”

“Well, hate to break even more bad news to you...but he’s a buddy of Dean’s.” You said, growing slightly at how you were the one to give Bobby all the bad news about his boys and all their poor choices after he left. 

“A good buddy.” Benny clarified. You turned your head to give the vampire a glare, his remarks weren’t helping the situation.  

“A freaking vampire?” Bobby asked in disbelief from what he was hearing. He turned his attention towards you, wondering how all of this came about. You shrugged your shoulders at the lack of a proper answer you could give him to explain this mess. “Well, you three really went off the rails while I was gone, didn't you?”

You could only let out a quiet sigh from how the truth was coming out all at once, with familiar faces you didn’t expect to see...well, ever again. It was your idea for the boys to cut out people from the past for good. Amelia and Benny were people you never thought you were going to meet or see. It was for the sake of the family and getting the boys back on what mattered the most; which was the three of you. The family who had always been there for one another through thick and thin. At least that’s what you thought. Since the beginning of the year you had gone through a roller coaster of highs and lows, but never did you expect it was going to end up like 

You had to admit you liked Benny, from his charming southern accent to how he seemed like no creature you met before. Maybe it was because he saved Dean a few times from getting himself stuck here forever and got him free. You only met him twice, and while he seemed innocent enough, you couldn’t form a friendship with him. Because not only was it the wrong thing to do as a hunter, having Benny in your life caused more trouble than it was worth. You weren’t sure how Sam got on board with the idea in the first place. He hated Benny’s guts more than anything. Desperate times call putting his trust in vampires. Benny was the only one who could get you out of Purgatory. 

Your legs were starting to ache from all the walking around and fighting you weren't used to doing in your condition, making it feel almost impossible that you were going to make it towards this escape route. Much as you wanted to lie down and sleep, you pushed yourself to keep walking, knowing you had to do this. There was no way you were going to quit when you were so close to the finish line. While you managed to keep up with Benny, you found a lingering awkward tension between the both of you. Maybe it was just how you were approaching all of this and thinking too much about it.  

“Benny, listen—I think you’re a good guy. Don't get me wrong." You said, breaking the silence that fell between the three of you. “And I know you saved Dean's ass a few times down here, and I respect that." 

"Yeah, and now I'm trying to save yours." Benny replied back to you, stopping you from letting him down easy about how you appreciated his help in all of this. You stopped walking when he did as well, Benny chuckled to himself at how all of this was playing out for him. "You know, I'm a disgrace to my own people."

“No offense, but your people aren’t exactly the friendliest.” You said. Benny shrugged off your remark as he began looking around the place, as if he was trying to find something. “How much more walking are we gonna have to do?”

Benny examined the area once more to make sure it was exactly as he remembered it from the last time he was here. "Yeah, this is the place."

"The seam that gets us back on top?" Bobby asked, the vampire nodded his head. You furrowed your brow slightly, not sure what you were expecting to find that was going to get you back to earth. It seemed the older hunter had better eyes than you had. "Is that it?"

You followed Bobby's gaze over and up towards what was going to be your escape out of here; you swallowed slightly at seeing the portal that was your ticket back home where you belonged. Where your family was eagerly waiting for you. "Yeah, that's it." Benny said. "You two remember what I told you?"

"Yeah. All right, Bobby, here it goes." You said, telling him what the plan was going to be. "When we get to earth and I release you, there's no time for goodbyes."

"Already said my goodbyes to you once, Y/N. Didn't seem to take. No reason I won't be seeing you and that kid again somewhere down the road. But if they give me a rocking chair up there, I’m raising hell.” Bobby said. You felt your lips stretch into a faint smile, hoping it might be true. Stranger things in your life happened. "Take care of yourself and those boys, Y/N. Be the best mother you can be to this kid. And don't ever doubt for a second you can't do this. Because I know you can. You and Dean are gonna make perfect parents.”

You know you didn’t have to tell him once again that you were going to miss him and how you wished things were different. You managed to squeeze in one last hug from Bobby, the both of you shared one last moment together before you had to get started on finishing this second trial. Bobby cut along his forearm with the demon knife before handing it over to you to do the same. You began chanting the words Kevin told you to do in order for this to work and grabbed ahold of Bobby's wrist, him doing the same. You weren't sure how it was going to feel when his soul was transferred into your body. You managed to work through the strange feelings and get yourself to focus long enough to hand over the demon knife to Benny. 

"All right. Come on, Benny. It's your turn." You said, reaching out your arm further for him to grab the knife. Benny responded with a look, the kind that you didn't like. You let out a frustrated sigh from how he was hesitating. "If you're worried about me, don’t. I’m fine. Just hurry up." 

"Benny." You heard a voice coming from behind you, making you turn around to see you had more company. You guessed the three filthy people approaching you were vampires. And they weren’t happy to see their own associating himself with someone like you. 

“Go on. It’s me they want. Go on. You just make sure you tell Dean I said goodbye.” Benny gave you a request that seemed fair enough. Every part of you didn’t want to leave him alone in this place. But he was used to it after spending decades here. It was his home, in a strange sort of way. There was no pretending to be who he was. “I was never good up there anyway.”  

"Benny, wait!" You called out to the vampire, knowing you had something he would need in order to win the fight. You threw the weapon you stole from another monster towards him, hoping it would give him luck to survive in these parts for however long he wanted to stay here. You let out a sigh from how you could nothing else for him, despite all the things he'd done for you and Dean.

Much as you wanted to lend out a helping hand to Benny and change his mind about sticking around here, you weren't going to blow your one chance at getting the hell out of here. You made your way towards the hill and climbed up to the portal that was your ticket out of this joint for good. You were high above now that gave you a better view of Purgatory. You looked ahead to see you might be able to find Benny, and when you did, you felt your heart sink in fear at what you saw. You opened your mouth to call out the vampire's name when one of the other creatures tackled him to the ground. Before any noise came out of your mouth, you were sucked through, and spit straight back to the real world. 

[Next Part]

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[itsbuckysworld]

HELLO SPRING DAY 11

Pairing: none but implied bucky x reader in a future maybe. Category: Modern AU. Warnings: rushed, maybe some bad words. bad writing.  Word Count: 1.7K Guest Appearance: Wanda, mentions of Sam and Steef Rawgers

Summary: You get no christmas shopping done, not when your day is suddenly consumed by Bucky Barnes after bumping into him randomly.

Day 11: Where should we meet? for my Spring Short Story Writing Event

“Where should we meet?” you asked your mother taking a sip of your iced drink. The five women stood at the entrance of the mall with their game faces on. It was Christmas shopping time and this was your plan of action year after year.

Every time, when December 15th rolled around, you, your mother, your aunt, your mom’s best friend who you lovingly called aunt, and her daughter - your best friend Wanda, attacked the season’s shoppings in one afternoon together. Except you almost never spent it together.

The plan was simple. Rendezvous at x point at x time, try to avoid running into each other or looking into bags or carts in risk of spotting your own christmas present and ruining the surprise and get at least the bigger bulk of christmas shopping over with. Should you not find something specific you could always come back, but this? This part of the shopping was tradition.

“Right there, in front of that Pretzel stand” Wanda’s mom pointed. Almost out of a spy movie the five of you looked at your watches, making sure they were if at least not in sync, close in time. “4pm on the dot ladies. 5 at the latest” and with that you dispersed.

Wanda decided to tackle her parents gifts first, they would take her the most time. Gifting you or her brother Pietro always came easy-peasy. In fact she had already ordered something for you off amazon, and was going to top it off with a gift-card to your favourite coffee shop. Instead of avoiding her mom on the men’s section of a clothing store, she joined forces to pick something for her dad.

On the other hand, your mom tended to begin with gifts for you, wanting to get the easy out of the way. She knew her daughter well.

Your aunt focused on her kids first as well. Your cousin was going into labour any moment now – not really, it was still a month to go – and that made gifting so much easier: just get the baby something.

You found yourself walking through the food court, trying to pass the time. You had spotted the stores you wanted to check out for very specific gifts and they were packed. Definitely waiting a few minutes until the craziness died down was the way to go. It didn’t matter how planned you and the other women in your life were, you always encountered dozens and dozens of people crowding the mall in December, no matter the date. At least earlier on the month it wasn’t as hectic. You had to come up with a last minute gift for Pietro two years ago when his Wanda told you that his then girlfriend had bought the thing you were thinking of. You did not want to repeat that. It still caused you nightmares.

Walking down a crowded hallway in front of a new accessories store, a body slammed into you, sending your iced drink tumbling down, fortunately not staining your shirt or the strangers. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry” they said, bending down to pick up the plastic cup, hands stretched out in an apologetic manner. You shook your hand rid of the droplets and started shaking your head to say it was no big deal when you were met with the stranger’s piercing blue eyes and chiseled jaw. “No… Uh, no biggie” “Y/N?” he said, his brows furrowing. “Yeah?” you looked confused, and a small grin started to form on his face. His eyes trailed over your features as if taking you in, and you did the same, trying to place him. The slight beard, the now somewhat familiar eyes and crinkles by them. “Oh!” you exclaimed “It’s me! James! Well…” “Bucky Barnes” you said amusedly, giving him a quick hug that he returned happily. “Wow, you… how are you?” you refrained from saying he looked different. Even though different didn’t mean worse, not at all.

The Bucky you remembered was skinnier, clothes hanging off his back almost sagging, clean shaven, and his hair was short. This Bucky? Fuck, this Bucky was strong, with a manly beard and longer hair almost past his ears, perfectly swooped backwards. Different was good, so so good.

“I’m sorry for your drink” his face scrunched up, deeply apologetic, you would think he accidentally let your dog out and it got lost, not that he’d just accidentally made you drop your drink. “Really, it’s no biggie” “Please, let me buy you another, and maybe we can chat for a bit? Catch up?” and it was really not a big deal, you were halfway done with it either way and it was icing your hand, but with that smile he gave you, how were you supposed to say no?

・‥…━━━━━━━ o ━━━━━━━…‥・

Wanda’s foot was tapping incessantly as she sat by the bench directly behind the pretzel stand, half eaten pretzel she didn’t even want to buy in the first place, in her hand. She glanced at the watch on her wrist one last time. It was 4:30. Where the fuck were you? She looked back to your mom, who looked just as annoyed, and somewhat concerned as well, with the long wait, and without question, Wanda picked up her phone and dialed your number, your mother doing the same short after when you didn’t pick up your best friend’s first call.

・‥…━━━━━━━ o ━━━━━━━…‥・

“No way!” you laughed out loud, throwing your head back and covering your face with the napkin you were using. Bucky sat in front of you, leaned into the table and resting on his crossed arms over it, trying to keep a smile at bay. “I can’t believe you and Steve did that. Gosh you’re still the same dorks as way back then” your laughter died down and you resumed your position, also hunched a bit over the small table outside a café in the food court, leaning on your hand, elbow anchoring the arm on the small wooden plank of a table. 

Your eyes looked into Bucky’s shiny ones, waiting for more of the story he was telling, and your free hand reached over for your almost empty glass of water, taking the last sips through the straw as Bucky only nodded. “What can I say? We like a good challenge” “Ok, but next time, do something a bit more… I don’t know… Modest?” “Oh, so running through central park half naked isn’t modest?” he joked causing you to burst out laughing again. He really liked that sound, his satisfied smirk was enough to tell.

Still coming down from the giggling fit, you reached into your bag, looking for your long forgotten phone that you felt buzzing a second ago. With a swift glance at it your breathing hitched and your heart dropped. Was that the time? “Shit!” you said, unlocking the device and opening your chat with Wanda where you had about a dozen texts. “Everything ok?” Bucky asked, concern painting his features, but he leaned back, not wanting to accidentally look at your texts or make you feel like he was invading your privacy, yet he stayed close enough that he could be there should you need him. “I was supposed to meet up with everyone almost an hour ago!” you picked up all your stuff in a hurry and stood up, shooting a quick text to Wanda that you were on your way and so sorry for making them wait, followed by Bucky who wasn’t sure what to do, but he understood.

You had mentioned when the two of you sat down at the table with small sandwiches and drinks that you were on a Christmas Shopping spree with your mom and Wanda and everyone else, yet the meeting time was so far away, neither of you worried much after, immediately jumping into ‘how have you been’s and ‘remember this person? well…’ “Time totally flew by, I’m so sorry! I have to go” “That’s ok. I get it” “Oh god and I didn’t even do any Christmas shopping” this caused you to laugh incredulously and Bucky joined in, scratching at his beard. “Neither did I” “I’m sorry!” you facepalmed, now guilty that you had kept him from his day’s plans. “Eh, I don’t really mind. I had a great time –” his smirk made you blush like mad – “Better time than I would have had trying to spot a gift for Steve’s new boyfriend” he rolled his eyes jokingly causing you to giggle. He had mentioned that Steve was so in love with Sam, this guy he’d met a few years ago. They were happy, and Sam wasn’t that bad, but Bucky and him had a more… Bicker-y relationship. It was all out of love, Sam was the best boyfriend Steve has ever had, and Bucky couldn’t be happier for them. “When I tell Steve I ran into you, he’ll understand” “It was so nice to see you again.” “Ditto. Hey maybe we can uh, come back, do actual christmas shopping?” “Together?” his eyes almost bulged out of his head. “I-I mean, just an idea, y-you don’t uh, you don’t have to if–” “I’d love to.” his face split into a grin, hand scratching at the back of his neck shyly. “Meet you here tomorrow? Say 10 am?” you pressed a quick peck to his cheek in form of goodbye, and he reciprocated, making shivers run down your spine at the warmth that his hand on your shoulder provided. “I’ll be here” “You better” you winked at him before rushing away to meet your family that greeted you with concerned looks and a chorus of ‘where were you’s and ‘did you not buy anything’ to which you just responded with a shrug, saying nothing had caught your eye and that you’d be back tomorrow to try and spot something different.

It was half true, nothing caught your eye besides Bucky, it’s not your fault the man held your complete attention for over 4 hours. He was that charming. That wasn’t any different than back then. The promise of seeing him again translating to chills you couldn’t contain, your smile mirroring his as he texted Steve – who had dropped him several texts asking if he needed any help picking a gift for Sam and concern to Bucky not answering them – that no, no gift for Sam just yet, but he wouldn’t guess what happened.

feedback is greatly appreciated and encouraged!!

ok so far i’ve written three reencounters lmao, and there’s a couple more to go. Hope you enjoyed this, im sorry for the poor writing!

[douxreviews]

Manifest - ‘Contrails’ Review

"The government didn't start hiding things on the day we came back.  They started on the day we disappeared."

Even paranoids can have non-imaginary enemies, and sometimes the crazy conspiracy theory is not just a theory and nowhere near crazy.  Just ask Captain Bill Daly, who was the pilot of Montego Air Flight 828 when it left Jamaica on the evening of April 7, 2013.

Last week, we saw that Captain Daly was something of a mess, more so than most of the 828ers.  As the pilot, the safety of the passengers was his responsibility, one he took very seriously.  When the plane encountered the storm/wormhole/alien spaceship/wrath of God/whatever it was, he got them through it in one piece and landed everyone safely--only to find himself being blamed for whatever it was that kicked 828 five and a half years into the future.  Add that on top of all the other stress that the "average" 828er has to deal with--finding out you were presumed dead, your loved ones remarried, and your worldly possessions were given away to Goodwill years ago, and such--and, well, if that happened to you, you'd be a mess, too.

After Cal prophecies that "the man from the plane" will need his father's help, Ben gets a call from Capt. Daly, who enlists his help.  The good Captain has determined that the official government records of the crash investigation are deliberately misleading, or at best wildly inaccurate, regarding the weather conditions.  The crash investigation report is dated April 8, 2013, just one day after the disappearance.

Ben subjects the inquiry record to one of his trademark analytical binges and discovers that a meteorologist named Roger Mencin, who was conducting observations of "dark lightening" near where 828 disappeared, was supposed to testify at a hearing, but backed out, and almost immediately took early retirement and moved to Massapequa.  They go to visit Roger, who tells them that he was pressured into erasing his data--but saved a copy just in case.  They load Roger's weather data into a 737 cockpit simulator, which gives them a pretty good replica of the storm and turbulence, but registers a crash when Daly tries to repeat the maneuver that got them through the storm.  As Ben points out, the simulator probably doesn't model time travel--but Daly just gets even more frustrated at his inability to "prove" that what he did was right, and even more convinced that Fiona Clarke is behind it all.

Meanwhile, Michaela is babysitting Cal on her day off when Autumn shows up at the apartment, asking Michaela's help in locating someone she claims stole her identity and framed her.   While Autumn is there, Ben calls Michaela and she asks him "Hey, how was Massapequa?"

The next day, Roger Mencin turns up dead in a suspiciously-timed boating accident.  Ben and Michaela go to check up on Daly, and when going through his apartment discover that he's planning to steal an airplane and fly into a storm cell looking for more dark lightening.  When they get to the airport, they find out that the airplane isn't the only thing Daly is stealing--he's kidnapped Fiona and is taking her with him!

I should mention here that while Autumn is attempting to break away from The Major's operation, her new handler is refusing to accept her resignation and putting the squeeze on her.  (The new guy  gives off the same weasel-y vibe as Autumn's previous contact, the late Lawrence Belson., and will therefore be designated "Weasel 2.0.")  While Ben and Michaela are chasing after Captain Daly, Autumn breaks in to Michaela's apartment, takes photos of Ben's research documents, and steals a page out of Cal's sketchbook.

Though Ben and Michaela do their level best to talk him out of it, Daly goes roaring into the center of the storm, pursued by two Air National Guard F-16s.  The plane is either shot down or flung forward in time, take your pick.

In reviewing the events of the day, Michaela realizes that Autumn overheard her mention Massapequa, and realizes she's the Major's mole.

And then Grace discovers that the window to Cal's bedroom is open and Cal is missing.

"828" Watch

The flight number appears on the cover of the government report.  The tail number of the stolen plane is N728PH.

Also on the manifest.....

In further developments on the romantic-triangle front, Michaela, to her credit, tells Jared that it's over between them and she will not be "the other woman."

"Dark lightning" really exists.  The technical term for it is "terrestrial gamma ray flash," a phenomenon first detected in 1994, and still not all that well understood.  They seem to propagate in and around thunderstorms, though the exact cause is still the subject of some scientific debate. A typical "TGF" lasts from 0.2 to 3.5 milliseconds (don't blink or you'll miss it!) and kicks out up to 20 million electron volts.  While "20 million volts" sounds impressive, we're talking electron volts, which are a measure of energy (and mass and momentum) in particle physics.  (They have nothing to do with the volts in your 9-volt batteries and 110-volt electrical outlets, which measure electrical potential.)  An electron volt is so small that you'd need 249,660,461,771,990,093,472.9 of them to power a 40-watt light bulb for one second.  (That's the answer I got, anyway.  Please feel free to check my math.)  I imagine it would take a lot more than that to send a Boeing airliner hurtling five years into the future through the space-time continuum.

Captain Daly drives a C2 Corvette Stingray.  Definitely a pilot's kind of car.

In the first scene with Ben and Daly in the Corvette, the car radio is playing "Midnight Rider" by The Allman Brothers: Well, I've got to run to keep from hidin'/And I'm bound to keep on ridin'/And I've got one more silver dollar/But I'm not gonna let 'em catch me, no, not gonna let 'em catch the midnight rider. Fitting choice for Daly's theme song, given how his story arc plays out.

This week's gold star for acting goes to Frank Deal, who played Capt. Daly.  In the flashback scenes and the first act of the pilot episode, the character is snarky and supremely confident (as pilots usually are).  In the "present day" scenes in this episode and the previous one, he's a broken man--but still the same individual, and still sympathetic even at the end.  Honorable mention goes to Francesca Faridany, playing a terrified Fiona Clarke.

In the cockpit scenes during the storm, Daly says he's "increasing speed to 300 knots."  According to Wikipedia, a 737's cruise speed is in the neighborhood of 450 knots when at altitude, so how could he be increasing to 300?  He's referring to indicated airspeed, which is not the same thing as "true" airspeed.  A plane's airspeed indicator measures speed by measuring the difference between static air pressure around the plane and the pressure in the pitot tube, which points directly forward.  At cruising altitude, the air is thinner, and this causes the airspeed indicator to register something less than the speed the aircraft is actually travelling relative to a fixed point on the ground.  That 450 knot cruising speed therefore translates to something a bit below 300 knots IAS.

Massapequa is a town of 21,685 (2010 Census) on the south shore of Long Island.

According to the co-pilot, Kelly Taylor was demanding a hypo-allergenic blanket from the flight attendants.  She would do a thing like that.

I am very certain that I would not want to be Autumn Cox when Michaela catches up to her.

Quotes

Captain Daly, to his co-pilot: "I'm a cowboy.  Plane's my horse, and the sky an open desert."

Captain Daly, in his debriefing: "You don't understand.  There is no 'conventional maneuver' when a storm appears right on top of you.  And this storm was like nothing I've ever seen."

Airport guard: "Hey, hey, Captain Future! You gonna fly through the Bermuda Triangle again?"  A more prophetic statement than he realized.

Conclusion

Another good episode with a couple of annoying little details.  The Major's organization seemed uncharacteristically ham-fisted: kill the meteorologist the day after he talks to Ben Stone?  Way to draw attention to your secret operation that no one is supposed to know about and blow your mole's cover in the process!  Shoot down a plane and kill the hostage?  Not swift either, guys.  Also, I thought it a little too neat that Fiona, a neuroscientist in a narrow specialty with New Age leanings, would be conversant enough with high-end particle physics to know what dark lightening was in the first place.  (A quick scene of Fiona looking it up on Wikipedia would have been a nice touch.)  However, the episode did an excellent job portraying Captain Daly's descent into madness in a believable fashion, and I liked how Fiona Clarke, until now the very portrait of emotional equilibrium, completely lost it as she concluded she was about to die.  And the cliffhanger at the end--oh, boy!

Three out of four terrestrial gamma ray flashes.

Baby M avoids exposure to gamma rays whenever possible.

[notstars-doors]

Landslide

~~~~

Dick turns his head to the side just enough to peek one eye out. “Two sugars?”

Wally rolls his eyes affectionately. “And a splash of cream. Dude, I’ve been making you coffee for years, I’m insulted you even have to ask.”

Dick stays silent for a moment, then lets out a quiet groan as he pushes himself up and into a sitting position.

At some point in the night he must have taken his shirt off, which Wally had noticed earlier that morning when he’d found it strewn on the floor, but it’s only just registering now that Dick’s not wearing a shirt.

~~~~

Dick and Wally try to figure out what last night meant, and how to move on from there.

An unexpected continuation of "What Are Best Friends For?" that didn't really feel like a second chapter, so we're making this a series instead.

read it on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14903153

“Okay, so. I’ve been thinking.” Wally flops down on the bed next to the lump of blanket that only slightly resembles his best friend. “And it’s been driving me nuts, so you need to wake up, so I don’t have to keep thinking anymore.”

The lump doesn’t respond.

“I swear to god, if you don’t get up, I will dump this coffee on you.”

Some muffled grumbling emanates from beneath the blanket, which Wally can roughly translate to either “you wouldn’t dare” or “I don’t care”. Either way, he decides that letting out a dramatic sigh and pulling the blanket away from Dick’s head is the best course of action at this point.

It’s 11:30am and Wally has been up for hours. He’s already made two breakfasts, gone for a ‘run’ with his roommate Kyle, and then a real run, and finished his chemistry homework. At a regular human speed, too, just to make the time pass while Dick slept his day away.

As much as Wally wants Dick to get some well-deserved sleep, it was getting a little ridiculous that his best friend wasn’t awake already.

Not to mention the ‘going crazy thinking’ thing.

“Dick, it’s almost noon.”

The young man in his bed (that didn’t used to be a weird thought) groans at the sudden exposure to sunlight and buries his face in a pillow.  “Still morning…”

“Not for long, dude. C’mon, I really did make coffee, and I don’t have the cash to waste by dumping this on you, so don’t make me do it.”

Dick turns his head to the side just enough to peek one eye out. “Two sugars?”

Wally rolls his eyes affectionately. “And a splash of cream. Dude, I’ve been making you coffee for years, I’m insulted you even have to ask.”

Dick stays silent for a moment, then lets out a quiet groan as he pushes himself up and into a sitting position.

At some point in the night he must have taken his shirt off, which Wally had noticed earlier that morning when he’d found it strewn on the floor, but it’s only just registering now that Dick’s not wearing a shirt.

This shouldn’t be weird, they’ve been friends forever, he’s seen the guy shirtless a thousand times.

But he’s never actually looked.

His bare chest is smooth in that it’s free of hair, but it’s marred with far too many scars for a man his age. Some are old and faded, others fresh and barely healed. Despite the many imperfections in his skin, you could hardly call Dick’s body anything but perfect. The hard-worked muscles are defined, yet easy. He’s lean, but still built. Slender, but strong.

Aaand Wally’s going to stop looking now before things do get weird…

Dick sits up against the headboard, rubbing at his tired eyes and blinking a few times to get used to the light. Then immediately makes grabby hands for the cup of coffee that’s balancing on Wally’s knee, and Wally can’t help but think about how adorable he looks in the morning.

Which leads to Wally handing Dick the mug, then throwing himself face first into the duvet and letting out a frustrated groan.

“We have GOT to talk about this, dude. It’s actually killing me.”

There’s silence for a moment, and Wally guesses that Dick just downed half of that coffee.

“Talk about what?”

Wally turns his head to side to glare at his best friend.

“You’re kidding, right?”

Dick gives him a look of confusion, but when Wally’s smushed face screws up in disbelief, his face just splits into a grin. “Of course I’m kidding, you idiot.”

Wally turns his face to groan loudly into the blanket again. “You’re a jerk.”

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk.”

Wally can’t help but smile into the blanket at that. He turns to face Dick again, shifting onto his side and leaning up on his elbow. “Are you?”

Dick sips at his coffee again. “Am I what?”

“Mine?”

He pauses, blinking a few times as the question registers. “Uh.”

“See, this is why we need to talk about this.”

Dick rolls his eyes, taking in one last mouthful before placing the mug on Wally’s bedside table. “Would you chill? I just woke up.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Wally presses a hand to his own chest in (almost) faux offense, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’ve just been awake for four hours thinking about last night and freaking out. Alone, might I add.”

Dick raises an eyebrow, a cocky grin spreading across his lips. “You’ve been thinking about kissing me for four hours?”

Wally glares. “Not. What I meant.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Then you’ve got problems, jackass.”

Dick lets out a low chuckle, the sound still deep and husky from sleep and Wally feels a sharp stab in his chest at the sound. He flops backwards onto the bed again, throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes.

“Seriously, man, I’m… I feel really weird and I only ever talk to you when I feel weird but now I’m feeling weird because of you and it’s just…”

“Weird?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mere.”

Wally shifts his arm to the side to look at his best friend. His very attractive best friend, who he’s never ever ever thought of as attractive until… well, until last night. Who’s reaching for him with both hands, teasing expression gone and instead replaced with an earnest desire for Wally to come closer.

Well, who’s he to deny that request?

Wally lets out a sigh, taking Dick’s offered hands and letting his friend pull him upright to face him. They’re sitting cross-legged in front of each other, much like they had been the night before, hands still clasped together.

“This okay?”

Wally nods.

“How would you like to start?”

Wally purses his lips, shrugging a little. “I dunno… I guess, like, what are we now?”

Dick gives him an indecipherable look, just for a second, then the most gentle smile. “We’re best friends.”

“Okay. But-”

“Best friends who kissed.”

“That’s where I’m stuck.”

Dick laughs, and Wally never wants him to stop doing that. “What’s confusing about it?”

“Doesn’t kissing your best friend mean things… change?”

“They don’t have to.”

“So, what, we just forget about it?”

“If you want to.”

Wally tries to read Dick’s expression this time, he really does.

“Do you?”

Dick just sighs, looking down at their hands. “I’m not the one freaking out about this, Wally. I just want you to be okay.”

“I’m okay.”

That earns him a very dead-pan look of ‘really?’

“Okay, so, I’m a little wigged out but like… it’s not a bad thing.”

“It’s not?”

Wally shakes his head. “Of course not.”

Dick squints a little, his brow furrowing in the way it does when he’s trying to solve a difficult case. “So, why are you freaking out then?”

“I just…” Wally shakes his head again, releasing Dick’s hands to press the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I dunno…”

“What?”

“I just love you, man.”

His hands are being pulled away from his face almost instantly, and Dick is looking up at him again with that earnest expression.

“I love you too, Walls.”

“But like, I’ve never had to think about what that meant before.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like…” Wally grips Dick’s hands more solidly in his own, settling them in his lap. “It just always been ‘Dick is my best friend and I love him because he’s my best friend.’”

“And…?”

“And now it’s ‘Dick is my best friend and I love him but holy shit do I like him too?’”

His friend starts laughing again and this time Wally laughs too, squeezing Dick’s hands tightly. The laughing is good, it’s nice, but it fills Wally with a strange anxiety.

Dick shakes his head in disbelief.  “You wanna hear something that might make you feel a little better?”

Wally smiles. “Always.”

“I had that moment about three years ago.”

He blinks. “Wait, what?”

Dick sighs, uncrossing his legs and extending them out on either side of Wally’s knees. It would be a far stretch for anyone else, but for Dick it’s as easy as breathing. “Yeah… I mean, I was, what? Fifteen? That’s when I realized I was bi. I started looking at guys as well as girls and… well, you’re a guy. You’re the guy I know better than anyone else. It wasn’t a far jump to make.”

They sit in silence for a little while after that, Dick just waiting, and Wally a little too shocked to form a coherent sentence yet.

When his voice finally comes back, it’s quiet. “All this time?”

Dick just shrugs. “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You’re my best friend. My straight – well, seemingly straight – best friend. What was I supposed to say?”

Wally throws his hands in the air disbelief. “I dunno, anything?! How about ‘Hey Wally, I’m into guys, and you’re one of them’?”

Dick gives him a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Wally finds that he really hates that. “You think that would’ve gone over well?”

He frowns at him, a little offended. “You think it wouldn’t?”

Dick just looks back down at their hands. “I couldn’t take the chance. I couldn’t… I didn’t want to lose you.”

He leaves out the ‘too’ at the end of that sentence, but Wally hears it loud and clear.

Wally lets go of Dick’s hands. He can see the tension rising in his friend’s shoulders until he raises his own hands to cup Dick’s face, waiting patiently for the other man to meet his gaze. When he finally does, Wally’s heart just about breaks at the look in his eyes.

“You’re never gonna lose me, Dick. Not then, not now, not ever.” Wally smiles softly. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

Dick’s hands reach up to grip Wally’s wrists tightly, his lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back the emotion he can see in those big blue eyes.

He doesn’t even think about it. He’s been somewhere between thinking too much and not thinking at all since last night, and right now seems like a good moment to stop the thinking and start acting a little more. So, Wally just stops thinking altogether when he leans forward to press a soft kiss to Dick’s trembling lips.

Dick just about melts into him as soon as their mouths touch, fingers going lax for barely a second before tightening quickly on his wrists again. Wally’s hands slip from their place on Dick’s cheeks to slide into his hair, and he decides that this time he’s gonna be that much braver and open the kiss a little. When his tongue swipes across Dick’s lower lip, both part for him with the softest sigh and suddenly Dick’s much closer to him than he was before and he’s got an armful of Boy Wonder.

Wally’s arms automatically wrap around his waist in response Dick’s winding around his neck, their chests coming together with a thud as they both move to get as close to each other as possible. Dick’s crawling into his lap, and Wally’s scrambling to stay upright with the movement but Dick doesn’t seem to care. He’s kissing him with such reckless abandon that if Wally didn’t believe the whole ‘three years ago’ thing before, he sure did now.

How the hell is this just happening now?

Dick is everywhere, everything, and for the first time in a very long time, Wally feels like he can’t keep up. There’s a familiar sensation of ‘can’t stop, won’t stop’ that Wally gets every time he kicks into his speed, but this is so different and so much better and Wally feels like he can’t breathe.

But that might be because he can’t actually breathe.

As if Dick was thinking it too they break apart with a gasp, chests heaving as their lungs ache from lack of oxygen. Their eyes are still closed, foreheads coming together as if they’ve done this a million times, breathing in unison. They just sit like that for a little while, Dick still seated fully in Wally’s lap but neither of them objecting.

When Wally’s eyes finally open, they meet hooded baby blues filled with an emotion that hits him full force in the stomach. And the groin. But he’s really trying not to think about that right now.

Wally can’t help the giddy smile that starts to spread across his face, and soon he’s bursting into nervous giggles and Dick isn’t far behind. He wonders if they’re going to do this every time they kiss.

Eventually the giggles subside, and they’re left clinging to each other in silence as their breathing goes back to normal.

“Three years, huh?”

Dick’s eyes narrow, and he leans back to smack Wally in the arm.

Wally just laughs again, arms winding tighter around Dick’s waist to pull him close again. “I’m just teasing, babe.”

Dick freezes, and so does Wally when he realizes what he just said.

“…babe?”

“Uh.” Wally bites his lip. Shit, how did that slip out? “Okay, sorry, don’t really have a good excuse for that. It just kinda… came out.”

He only relaxes again when Dick’s fingers slip into his hair, twisting through the shaggy ginger locks in a way that sends shivers down his spine.

“No, it’s okay.” Dick mumbles. “I… kinda like it.”

Wally pauses, then leans his forehead against Dick’s with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“So…?”

“Is that just a new nickname I get to call you, or…?” Wally trails off, then leans in to nip at Dick’s lower lip.

Dick lets out a breathy sigh, leaning a little closer in return. “…or what?”

“Or should we maybe talk about what the hell we’re doing?”

His head drops to Wally’s shoulder, who shivers at the sensation of Dick’s breath against his neck. “What are we doing?”

Wally rolls his eyes, then flops backwards on the bed. Dick squawks as he comes down with him, crashing back down into Wally’s chest with a thud and a glare. Wally just looks up at him with a toothy grin, and he knows Dick would only be mad for about .25 seconds longer. Dick just sighs again and readjusts so that his legs slot comfortably between Wally’s, who’s really trying not to think about that fact. He folds his hands up on Wally’s chest and rests his chin on top.

“Well, let’s see. We’ve established that we like kissing each other, and that we seem to be… appreciating each other more than best friends probably should.” Wally recounts, his hands coming up to fold across Dick’s back. This new touching is a little different than their usual brand of touching, but it’s still just as natural. “So maybe we should address the ‘being more than best friends’ part.”

Dick nods, which is a funny little action while his chin is resting on Wally’s chest. “Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah?”

“Dude, help me out here. You’ve got the experience, I’m the newbie.”

He frowns in confusion. “Experience?”

“You dated Babs, she’s your other best friend, right? How did you deal with that?”

Dick scoffs, moving his hands aside so he can press his face against Wally’s sternum. “God, I don’t even… Wally, I was low-key still in love you throughout that entire relationship. Babs figured that out about six months in and dropped me like a sack of potatoes. I mean, she was good about it, and we obviously managed to stay friends, but still. I have about as much experience as you do here.”

Wally’s still reeling from the ‘in love with you’ comment, but doesn’t bring it up, not sure if Dick realizes he just dropped that bomb. “Okay… well… How about we just talk about the ‘best friends’ part?”

“Okay…?”

“Like how no matter the fuck this is, I always want you to be my best friend.”

Dick lifts his head back up to look Wally in the eyes. “I do too.”

“So…” Wally starts tracing small circles on Dick’s lower back, just realizing that holy shit he’s still not wearing a shirt. “If this is… something… we have to promise that no matter what happens, we still stay best friends?”

Dick hums at the sensation on his skin, nodding and resting his cheek back on Wally’s chest. “Promise. Best friends forever.”

Wally rolls his eyes. “Don’t be cheesy.”

Dick’s head snaps back up immediately. “Excuse me. You’ve been a big ball of cheese since you woke me up, I get one cheesy comment in and you decide to say something?”

He grins. “Yup.”

“Oh no, not fair.”

Wally’s eyes shine with a challenge glint. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Dick pauses in thought, then leans up quickly to capture Wally’s lips with his own, a soft groan slipping into Wally’s mouth as he does.

Wally’s hands immediately raise to grasp at Dick’s hips, fingers digging into muscle in response to Dick’s movement. Dick’s tongue is in his mouth again and suddenly all thought of cheese and challenge is gone and Wally can’t think of anything except his best friend’s body against his own. The kiss is desperate and needy and Wally’s not questioning it, sighing softly into Dick’s mouth as the other man hands are tangling in his hair.

And then suddenly it’s gone and Dick is sitting up on top of him with a cheeky smile that’s just screaming ‘I win.’

“You little-“

“Yes?”

Wally’s eyes narrow, glaring up at his friend in annoyance until he smiles wickedly. He kicks into his speed, everything slowing down around, and he takes that one moment to look at Dick’s face in appreciation before flipping them over and pinning him down against the bed.

Dick’s breath leaves him one big rush, his mind attempting to catch up with the speed of the movement, and when it does he’s looking up at Wally with the most dead-pan ‘not fair’ expression he’s ever seen on his face.

Wally grins, then leans down to press a gentle peck to his lips. “I win.”

Dick looks disgruntled, but the kiss seems to help even though his arms are crossed firmly across his chest. Wally drops down and rests full-body on top of Dick, who groans as the sudden weight on his chest, but doesn’t actually protest all too much.

“So.” Wally starts.

“So?” Dick responds.

“Best friends.”

“Yes.”

“Always.”

“Forever.”

“Okay… boyfriends…?”

“…that sounds agreeable.”

“Any special terms?”

“Lots of kissing.”

“Deal.”

“You?”

“How about a date?”

“Are you asking me out, Wallace West?”

“I sure am, Richard Grayson.”

Dick smiles. “Then it’s a date.”

Wally kisses him, and this time its soft and sweet and Wally loves the feeling of Dick’s arms twining around his neck. “It’s a date.”

He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against Dick’s, content to just lay there for a little while in each other’s arms. It’s been a long morning, but still, so worth the wait.

As if he can read Wally’s mind, which he honestly wouldn’t be surprised about, Dick nudges his nose against Wally’s.

“Hey Walls?”

“Hm?”

“You feeling better?”

Wally bites his lip to hide his smile, but he fails miserably.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks, Dick.”

Dick grins and nuzzles his nose against Wally’s again.

“Hey, what are best friends for?”

[emoboijk]

Jeon Jeongguk—To Know a Person (06)

You’ve been calling, texting, emailing for years. But is that really enough to know a person? You’re about to find out. —fluff and angst

01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 :: 07 :: 08 :: 09 :: 10 :: 11 :: epilogue

3,562 words

gif cred

Jungkook had a million and one things he wanted to show you in Korea.

After he’d all but tucked you into bed the night you arrived, he camped out on the couch in the living room, with a concentrated look on his face. His bottom lip hung down slightly and his eyes were glassy when Yoongi finally wandered into the room around two in the morning, looking for a midnight snack.

“Gwenchana?”

Jungkook shook his head, no. He was chewing on his bottom lip, a laptop open on his thighs and his back hunched as he looked at it. He was going through a website—“Ten Best Places to Visit in South Korea.”

Yoongi shook his head, laughing at the sad sap. He plopped down on the couch next to him, momentarily forgetting his hunger. He bumped Jungkook’s elbow and said, “You know Seoul, Guk, just take her to your favorite places.”

“I want her to be impressed,” Jungkook whined, “I want…” He sighed, unable to finish his sentence because the things he wanted seemed over the top and extreme, things that would be deemed ‘too fast too soon.’

“Look,” Yoongi said, “You said that you’re trying to rebuild trust, right?” Jungkook nodded. “Then show her who you are, Guk. You have to show her that you’re the same person she’s been talking to all these years—show her your favorite places to eat, to shop, make her laugh, use inside jokes. Just be yourself and it’ll all work out.” Feeling he’d done his due diligence, Yoongi promptly got up and wandered into the kitchen.

“So,” Jungkook said, “I should plan my perfect day?”

“At least to start!” Yoongi added.

You wandered out of Jungkook’s bedroom the next morning near seven o’clock. You’d slept like the dead, much more soundly this time, although not quite without anxiety. Your eyes explored your surroundings curiously. The bare bones of the apartment were fashionably monochromatic—the cabinets, floors, and walls. But there were splashes of the members everywhere that were relatively easy to identify. Artwork that Taehyung must have hung up, gaming equipment and drawings that must have been Jungkook’s, half-broken headphones and earbuds scattered everywhere (which you guessed were RM’s), bright pillows and accents that screamed J-Hope’s style. Quickly glancing into the kitchen you saw cooking equipment that seemed like Jin’s taste, a small synthesizer that you suspected was Yoongi’s, and there were less than skillful snapshots that had been printed out and tacked to every available surface (Jimin’s handiwork you guessed).

And then, in the middle of the room, a splash of white sheets splayed over a dark couch, pale limbs hanging off the edges. You stepped further into the living room and stood at the edge of the couch, Jungkook’s feet dangling in front of you. You smiled at this image, realizing that it was just how you pictured he’d slept—dead and numb to the world, in whatever position he happened to land in. When your eyes found his face, you felt a warmth spread out in your chest from the peaceful expression he wore.

He looked so innocent now and you were reminded of all those times he’d confided in you. The anxiety he felt, the pressure. It hadn’t made complete sense, but it did now. Fame was a heavy burden to bear and he did it with such grace. But you had been privy to the sweat and grime underneath the grace, even if you had been somewhat ignorant of it.

“Don’t wake him,” Yoongi said from behind you, in near perfect English. You turned so quickly you got whiplash and Yoongi almost laughed. He added in smooth Korean, “He hasn’t gotten much rest the last few days. Let him sleep.”

You nodded, following the near-stranger into the kitchen. He was at the coffee maker, brewing a fresh pot that smelled delicious. He didn’t say anything more and you felt the need for words to fill the silence, so you told him your name.

“I know,” he chuckled, “Jeonggukie has told us...everything.” He paused, smiled and added, “He was right, your Korean is very good.”

“Kamsahamnida,” you blushed slightly, avoiding his gaze.

Yoongi leaned against the counter and waited, taking his time to slowly size you up. You were acutely aware of his silence and his shrewd gaze. When you looked up, your eyes met. His gaze was stern and cold, but there was a question in them. You did your best to answer it in kind.

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Yoongi said, allowing himself to speak freely in Korean.

Your brow furrowed, “Yes,” you said immediately and translating, “Of course.”

“You’re just...confused?”

“Yes,” you whispered, trusting he understood English enough to understand this next part, “I’m afraid that I can’t trust him again.”

Yoongi nodded, trying to let himself move from over-protective hyung to stand in your shoes for a moment. And he did understand how it could be hard for you. But—

“If you know Jeongguk as well as I think you do, then you know you can trust him.”

The coffee maker beeped and he turned back to the pot, pulling two cups down from the cupboard and pouring the contents into them so that steam curled lazily from the top in invisible tendrils. He turned and offered the cup to you and you bowed your head in thanks.

By the time Jeongguk woke up, three hours later, you had showered and dressed and were now in the kitchen, trying to make breakfast. He woke up to the sound of the fire alarm beeping loudly. He sprang from the couch and landed on his feet in a fighting stance, like an anime character.

“Aish,” Yoongi said, poking fun at you in Korean. You laughed and apologized, waving a baking sheet pan at the smoke detector to clear the area and make it stop. Yoongi was bent double with laughter, a pan in the sink with water pouring over it to quench the fire.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook said, his eyes wide and wild. He coughed from the hazy atmosphere and watched the ease with which the two of you interacted. After that initial terse conversation, Yoongi had decided to treat you like family, because you practically were. And you were eternally grateful.

“Your girlfriend has a smoking problem,” Yoongi said seriously, hiding his smile.

“Yah,” you whined, slapping him lightly.

“Don’t stop waving!” Yoongi almost yelled. You squeaked and started waving with even more determination. The whole scene made Jungkook, still in the doorway, his shirt over his nose and mouth, smile. And the casual way that Yoongi had called you his girlfriend had a million bees buzzing happily in his chest.

Glancing at the clock he said, “Shit, that’s the time, I had plans,” he pouted.

“Plans?” you grinned, “You had plans?”

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled slightly and he avoided your gaze, “Uh, yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I have to shower.” And he darted out of the room in a hurry.

“This is going to be great,” Yoongi said. You turned and looked at him inquisitively and he elaborated, “You are the golden maknae’s weakness.”

You chuckled, arms burning from the constant waving, “So you’re going to tease him relentlessly?”

“Yes,” he grinned, moving past you to open a window and help clear the smoke.

Jungkook was out of the shower in record time, although you figured he’d perfected the art of quick-showering, what with being a famous idol and all. What took a long time was him standing in front of his closet in only a towel, trying to pick an outfit.

He’d wandered into the bedroom after knocking several times, to make sure he wouldn’t surprise you. Once he’d heard your voice from down the hall, he figured the coast was clear. He slipped into the room and locked the door, smiling when he spotted the traces of you scattered everywhere—the unmade bed, the makeup bag, the cell phone charger, your opened suitcase. He dwelled on it for only a moment before turning to his closet.

When it had been fifteen minutes, Yoongi rapped loudly on the maknae’s door and said, “What are you doing in there?”

Jungkook peeked his head out the bedroom door and worried his bottom lip as he said, “What should I wear?”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi said, “Something comfortable.” And then he walked away.

Jungkook emerged two minutes later in jeans, a sweatshirt, and his favorite boots, still feeling like the world was going to end. In a way it was, you were the asteroid blazing towards him to destroy his world.

Except in a good way.

Jungkook shook his head to clear the metaphor from his mind. It gave the whole thing a very devastating vibe, which was not something he wanted on your first date. He walked into the living room with his hands in his pockets, the anxiety twisting in his chest painfully. But as soon as he saw you, leaning against the couch, reading over Yoongi’s shoulder as he wrote lyrics, it melted away. Just like it had, not so long ago, when he called you after a tough show or a grueling rehearsal.

You, ever alert for his presence, turned to smile at him. “Ready?”

Jungkook wondered in the back of his mind if ‘I’ve been ready for five years’ would be ‘too fast too soon.’ Instead, he nodded and glanced at the hooks by the front door where they kept the keys. He bounded over there, and plucked a set off a hook, “I’m taking the car!” He slipped on a casual jacket and donned his go-to disguise: dust mask, sunglasses (retro today) and a cap.

“Okay,” Yoongi said, hiding a smile, “Have fun, you crazy kids.”

You laughed and followed Jungkook out the door.

The car was a simple sedan in a muted color, a few years old. Nothing conspicuous or crazy, and Jungkook hesitated slightly, wondering if you were expecting more. But your expression didn’t change and you watched him hopefully as he walked to his door. “Where are we going?” you wondered, feeling surprisingly comfortable speaking Korean with him. You slid into your seat and he lost all feelings of apprehension in the face of your smile.

“It’s a surprise.”

It took less than twenty minutes to get there. And ‘there’ was a tall, grey building with large Hangul letters above the doors. You raised your eyebrows and smiled nervously at him.

“Is this okay?” he wondered, apprehension crawling up his spine once again. Yoongi had said to plan his perfect day, and this was definitely one of his favorite things to do. But what if you didn’t want to do this?

You chewed on your bottom lip and admitted, “I’m not sure what it says.”

Jungkook burst into happy, relieved laughter, “It says,” he paused as he turned the English and Korean over in his mind, “Rock Climbing Center?” He pronounced each syllable with care as he translated, still unsure if he got it completely right.

“Really?” your eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” he whispered in quiet Korean.

“Awesome!” you cheered, undoing your seatbelt, “I haven’t done this since I was a kid!”

Once inside, you could feel Jungkook’s excitement buzzing off him like a bee hovering over a flower. He was bouncing from one foot to the other, smiling up at the tall rock-climbing wall with an expression that was pure adrenaline. He’d shed his mask, sunglasses, and hat, feeling safer inside than when wandering outside.

You were a little more apprehensive, truth be told. But Jeongguk had admitted, once or twice, to loving this kind of thrilling activity. Something physical with an element of danger—those were his favorite things to do. Far be it from you to put an end to this.

Besides, watching Jungkook now, you had faith that he would make this one of the best experiences of your life.

He turned on you with a scrunchy-bunny smile, his eyes squinted closed happily. “Excited? Ready?”

You tugged on the various harnesses that the employees had secured to you and said, “As ready as ever.”

“I’ll go first and you can meet me up there,” Jungkook said, leaning forward and kissing your forehead casually, without a second thought. But the spot burned on your forehead with a sharp awareness that Jungkook did not seem to sense. He started up the wall quickly and without a sign of apprehension.

His attention elsewhere you touched the spot his lips had pressed against gently with your hand, a smile coming to your lips as a familiar warmth flood through you. It was the same sensation as the first time he’d introduced himself or told you that you were his best friend, or...heard his voice.

You’d been laying in bed late one night, holding your phone above you and texting nonstop with Jeongguk for what seemed liked ages. The screen had changed suddenly, his name flashing brightly like a warning light. Your heart had raced but you’d answered anyways. The moment his voice had floated across the grainy speakers you felt a near physical change, completely soothed by the soft tones of his excited Korean and his accented English.

By the time you were done reminiscing, Jungkook was at the top of the wall, perched on the balcony that was set up there. His legs dangled and he raised his arms above his head, whooping loudly, “Did it!” He glanced down at you, a glow distinctly caused by adrenaline flushing his skin, “Your turn!”

“Don’t expect me to be that fast!” you yelled up at him, adjusting your helmet and facing off with the wall. You climbed up slowly, with about as much struggle as you anticipated there being. But Jungkook was grinning down at you from the makeshift balcony at the top of the wall, cheering encouragement so enthusiastically that you blushed.

The employees down below that were handling your and other people’s ropes, grinned at the exchange, muttering something about your being a cute couple.

You were almost at the top when you glanced up to find Jungkook’s face directly in front of you. Your fingertips were burning from hanging onto the rock wall, and Jungkook’s face was grinning at you smugly.

“Annyeong,” he wagged his fingers at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, flushed from the exertion, “What are you doing?”

He smiled, forgetting himself for a moment as he said, “This.” He leaned forward and pecked your lips with his own. Surprised and happy you let go of the wall with a gasp. You were immediately caught by the ropes, but both you and Jungkook had a bit of a heart attack at the sudden drop. But as soon as he saw you were safe, Jungkook grinned at his effect on you. You hid your face behind your hands as the employee lowered you to the ground carefully. Jungkook had been so shy until now, but you figured the adrenaline and endorphins were having their effect.

He met you at the bottom, free of the rock-climbing restraints, as you were getting out of yours. You slapped his arm playfully, cheeks red with embarrassment. Still high from the adrenaline he smirked, “Did I scare you?”

You glared at him, keep your lips closed tightly because of the employee still unworking the various straps and ropes attached to you. But when you exited the building on your way to the car you slapped him again, “What was that?”

“What?” Jungkook said, grinning as he turned to you, “This?” He put his hand on your cheek and neck, pulling you close to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, Jungkook was still aware that you were in public after all, but it had your whole body consumed in a warm happiness.

“So,” you whispered, avoiding his gaze as you tried to get your pulse down, “We’re doing that now?”

“I got tired of waiting,” he grinned, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling you forward, “It’s been five years, after all.” You couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so instead, you just squeezed his hand and smiled.

Jungkook seemed infused with energy now, after the surge of adrenaline that came with rock climbing and kissing you. He was drumming his fingers against the steering wheel of the car to the beat of the music on the radio, muttering the lyrics absently under his breath as his eyes scanned the road alertly. You smiled as you watched this, finding these simple, fidgety, habits of his completely endearing. He’d shoved his mask down his face so that you could see the perfect outline of his lips as he mouthed the words to the song. You didn’t notice that you had arrived until his lips stopped moving and he turned to you with an open expression.

You blushed and looked away, following him out of the car and towards the entrance. “Okay, okay,” Jungkook was bouncing again, and you were beginning to develop a fondness for his little, excited bunny hops. He removed the mask and tucked into his pocket, rubbing his palms together, “The arcade.”

“The arcade?” you laughed, “What, are you twelve?”

Jungkook’s expression soured and you worried for a moment that you’d ruined the mood, but the sour expression transformed into one of mocking. He stuck his tongue out and said, “Don’t be jealous that I’m going to beat you at literally every game!”

“Um, I don’t know who you think you’re talking to,” you smirked, “but I am definitely going to win.”

It passed by in a blur, like a movie montage set to an upbeat pop song. And, of course, golden maknae that he is, Jungkook beat you at almost everything. But, in your defense, you hadn’t played arcade games in years. You’d been there three hours when your stomach growled. Your hands flew to your stomach as if to hide it. Jungkook smiled, “Hungry?”

“Starved,” you grinned.

“Let’s go to my favorite place.” He took your hand and pulled you across the street and back to the car, “It’s by our next destination.”

You pulled up thirty minutes later in front of a stony, all but deserted, beach. The salty air hit you as soon as you stepped outside of the car, it felt harsh but cleansing. Just the thing to scrub away old prejudices and leave the slate clean. It almost made you forget about how hungry you were.

Jungkook was by your side, his fingers tracing unconsciously down your arm to clasp your hand. He whispered, “Food first.”

“Yes,” you grinned, turning away from the sand and sea.

“This way,” he said, leading you to...a food truck.

“A food truck?” you grinned, “This is your favorite place.”

“Guilty pleasure,” he shrugged, leaving you for a moment to place your orders and pay. You raised your eyebrows when he came back.

“What’d you get me?”

“It’s a rice cup,” he explained, “You’ll like it.”

A few minutes later, you sat on the railing that separates the parking lot from the beach, spooning egg and rice and pork into your mouth. It tasted soft and buttery and warm. It fought off the cold sea air so effectively that you felt euphoric. When you finished you placed the empty cup next to you and leaned your head on his shoulder.

He smiled and held your hand again, “Wanna take a walk?”

The beach was cold but the sand felt soft between your toes, and Jungkook’s hand hadn’t left yours the entire time. His thumb was smooth and rubbing wild, inconsistent patterns across your knuckles and the back of your hand. He was watching the waves to keep himself from focusing too intently on you, and your eyes wandered to the ground, pebbles, and shells scattered across the surface.

It surprised you when you realized the silence. It had been almost half an hour without a word passing between you, just the birds and the waves and the touch of his skin against your own. You thought he must be tired, you both had done a lot today. But then you realized, too, that you’d never been in a space where this kind of comfortable silence could exist. Texting and phone calls required constant communication. And now you were allowed to just...be together.

And then the other surprise hit you. Because the feeling you had now, the bubbling happiness in your chest, the peaceful calm...was familiar. You felt this way when you spoke on the phone for hours on end, or when you sent cute text messages back and forth.

You stopped suddenly, Jungkook reeling in surprise when he felt your feet plant into the ground. He turned to look at you with wide eyes, his gaze automatically scanning up and down to see if you were hurt. “What?” he spoke softly in Korean, as if afraid to break the atmosphere that had been constructed.

Your lips turned upwards as your eyes scanned his face, the same way you had done when you met him at the airport, except now you saw something different. “Jeongguk?” you whispered, the sound completely the same and yet entirely different, it finally clicking in your mind. He tilted his head and smiled.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” you whispered, smiling to yourself, “Nothing.”

author’s note—so fluuuuffy!

for more of my works check out my m.list ❤

[ienveeus]

“Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.” for our lord of destruction Namjoon sheepishly confessing to Hoseok

Namseok, “Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

(1.8k, paranormal au, someone gets hit by a car, character death that isn’t really??  this is mindless crack)

It’s not the first time that Hoseok’s been woken up at ass o’clock in the morning because of Kim Namjoon’s incessant knocking, but even as Hoseok pushes himself out of bed, tugging a blanket around himself as he trudges towards the door, something about this time feels different.

Normally there’s a bit of coherency to what Namjoon says, but when Hoseok opens the door, it’s all just noise, mindless, deranged babble coming out of his mouth and at first Hoseok isn’t sure if he’s hearing Korean. 

‘Slow down,’ Hoseok mumbles, bleary-eyed. He blinks and his vision clears to see how wild Namjoon looks. Like he’s been lost in the woods for three days and only just found his way out. 

Namjoon yells some more, eyebrows knitting together as he gestures frantically to his car on the street. Hoseok heaves a long-suffering sigh. 

‘Namjoon get inside before I slam the door in your face, it’s too early for me to play translator.’ 

He doesn’t give Namjoon a chance to retort, simply grabs his arm and tugs him inside and onto the couch. He brews tea, waits until Namjoon is no longer heaving for breath and has drunken at least half of his cup before he tentatively broaches the subject once more. Very calm. Very collected. 

‘Okay,’ Namjoon says, in his normal Namjoon-speaking voice, although a bit more sheepish than usual. ‘Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.’ 

Hoseok blinks, nodding as he processes the words. Namjoon stares at him, looking a little like a puppy waiting to be reprimanded as he shuffles.  Very slowly, he reaches down and gives the inside of his arm a very sharp pinch.

Hoseok is not dreaming. 

‘You murdered someone?’ Hoseok says, surprising himself with how calm his voice is. Surprising Namjoon too, if the startled expression is anything to go by. 

‘Yes.’ 

‘How?’

Namjoon wrings his hands, trying for a grin. ‘Accidentally?’ 

Hoseok reaches for something to throw, which thankfully, for Namjoon’s sake, is a pillow. The force Hoseok chucks it at is no joke and even though it is merely a pillow, the zipper flicks Namjoon in the nose and he thinks that’d painful enough.

‘Hobi!’

‘Why would you come tell me?’ Hoseok hisses. ‘You dick, now I’m involved, I either turn you in or I’m an accomplice.’ 

‘You’re my boyfriend, I thought you’d help me!’ Namjoon says, voice frantic which does nothing to help stop Hoseok from steadily beginning to lose his shit. ‘You have those like. Witchy powers, right? I only hit him with the car half an hour ago. You’re magic. Fix him.’

‘Oh my god, I’m not a necromancer, you idiot!’ Hoseok’s on his feet, throwing his hands in the air and praying the Gods to strike him down so he doesn’t have to deal with this shit. ‘I make work in hexes, make potions for broken bones, fucking emotions or something. Necromancers are a whole different thing and super rare to boot.’

‘Well how was I supposed to know?’ Namjoon’s voice is merely a squeak. ‘You just sprung it on me out of nowhere, of course I’m going to assume–’

‘Do not make this about me,’ Hoseok says, jabbing a finger against Namjoon’s forehead. ‘You’re the one who’s killed someone. Gods, what have you done? Where’s the body?’

Namjoon opens his mouth, closes it again and his eyes slowly trail over to the front door, like he might bolt, or–

Or.

‘You’re kidding me,’ Hoseok says, voice strangled. ‘You bought it here, you bought a body to my house?’

‘Please don’t hit me again,’ Namjoon says miserably. ‘I already feel super bad about this.’ 

‘You should feel bad,’ Hoseok snaps, but his anger kerbs a little when Namjoon wilts. ‘Okay, sorry, I’m sure you didn’t kill him on purpose.’

‘He came out of nowhere!’ 

‘And you’re sure he’s dead?’

Namjoon nods his head. 

Hoseok folds his lips, trying to think logically, which is usually Namjoon’s strong point but he’s not thinking too straight right now. 

‘Alright,’ Hoseok says and just resigns himself to the fact that this is going to haunt him for the rest of his life. ‘I have a shovel in my garage, let’s go.’ 

They find a place, outside of the city, away from people and Hoseok figures they need to hurry before all the crazy exercise junkies come out and start stumbling across shit. He threatens to put a spell on Namjoon’s mouth to stop him from ever speaking again if he refuses to shut up about how he killed a baby (not a baby, a guy slightly younger than them, which is horrible but perhaps less so than an infant. Whatever. Morality’s a grey area for Hoseok right now.)

He puts a spell on the earth to make it soft and pretends he doesn’t feel sick when he helps lift the body out of the car. 

‘I knew you were the right one to call,’ Namjoon says as if that’s what Hoseok wants to hear right now. His grin is strained under the car’s headlights. 

Hoseok pushes the shovel into Namjoon’s hand. ‘Start digging.’ 

Namjoon looks like he might try argue but all Hoseok has to do is cock an eyebrow and he gets to work. 

For about an hour, Hoseok simply watches Namjoon dig, numbness creeping into him from the cold and also to the fact that there’s a dead body right beside him. 

It’s shock that urges him forward, rifling through the boy’s pocket to pull out his wallet. He pulls out a license, finds out his name is Jeon Jungkook and he’s twenty and wow Hoseok can’t believe Namjoon killed someone. This is going to haunt him into the afterlife. He might contact Seokjin at some point to call the kid’s spirit back so he can give Namjoon an ear-full, it’s what he deserves. 

Hoseok slides the wallet back into Jungkook’s pocket, feeling the bile rise back up again. He pulls back and clutches his legs to his chest, trying to keep warm. Namjoon’s head barely pops out of the hole now, he’s just a scruff of hair popping up. Hoseok’s about to call him out when something stirs in the corner of his eye. 

Hoseok freezes. Did the body just…?

‘Did he move?’

‘What? No.’ Namjoon looks up at him, struggling to climb out of the hole. He lugs himself to his feet and dusts himself off, stilling only when Hoseok continues to eye the body. ‘He’s dead.’

Hoseok squints at him. ‘How thoroughly did you check?’ 

Namjoon simply stares at him and Hoseok goes still, swearing on everything in this world that once they’re out of this situation he is going to lecture Namjoon on every single terrible situation there is in the world and how to properly react when he inevitably (because it is inevitable) finds himself apart of it. 

He screams when the boy stirs for real, has to tell himself that no, zombies are not a thing and there’s some other explanation to this as he scrambles as far away from the boy as possible. There’s a groan, and then a voice that sounds like it’s swallowed concrete. 

‘What the fuck?’ The boy–the very much alive boy– grumbles. He pushes himself up and then onto his feet. ‘Where am I?’ 

Namjoon looks like his mouth’s been sewn shut, he just shakes his head, refusing to reply. Hoseok’s at a loss for what to say too, can’t help it as he glances down to the pile of dirt not two metres away. 

The boy’s eyes follow his gaze, his eyebrows knitting together in pure confusion.

‘…Why is there a giant hole here?’ 

Hoseok blinks and there’s a yelp. When he opens his eyes the man is nowhere in sight.

He hears cussing from inside the hole, and Hoseok puts two and two together, smacking Namjoon on the shoulder. 

‘Namjoon!’

‘I panicked.’

Shaking his head, Hoseok peers into the hole and sees the boy–Jungkook– staring up at him, alive and thoroughly pissed off. 

‘Hey kid.’

‘I’m not a kid,’ Jungkook says, squinting up at Hoseok. He must notice the purple hue to his eyes because he puffs his chest out and says, ‘I’m Immortal, probably a lot older than you, witch.’ 

An Immortal. Huh, that explains things. Hoseok had thought the kid had looked pretty good for someone who’d been mowed down under Namjoon’s subpar driving. He was having suspicions of paranormal stuff at play. He’s glad they landed on an immortal and not something more vindictive, or downright deadly. In Hoseok’s experience, Immortal’s are a smidge grumpy, but generally harmless. 

‘There’s no need to be like that.’

‘You hit me with a car and were going to bury me. The other one just pushed me into the hole.’ 

Shit. So there’s no memory loss. Hm. He’ll have to try for a different approach. 

‘Actually, human-boy over there’s the one who hit you with a car.’

Namjoon splutters behind him. ‘Hoseok!’ 

Hoseok doesn’t turn just waves a placating hand vaguely in Namjoon’s direction. 

‘You were still helping him.’

‘That’s fair,’ Hoseok shrugs. ‘You’re Jungkook, right?’ 

Jungkook blinks up at him owlishly. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘You’re immortal, gotta be used to shit like this, huh?’ 

‘Being hit by a car?’ Jungkook grits out. ‘It’s a first.’

‘Whatever,’ Hoseok says dryly. ‘Basically, what I’m trying to get at is what do I have to give you to make this entire thing go away?

Namjoon’s gonna owe him so big after this, he swears on all the Gods he knows. 

‘A billion won,’ Jungkook says. 

‘Nobody likes a smart-ass.’ Hoseok says. ‘Let’s put things in perspective. I’m a witch, I make potions. I’ll give you a year’s worth if you don’t report my friend.’ 

‘I blink and a year is over,’ Jungkook sneers. ‘Ten years.’ 

‘You know I can fill this hole with dirt before you can blink, right?’ Hoseok says. Again he hears Namjoon spluttering behind him. 

‘You can do that?’ Namjoon demands. ‘Why didn’t we just do that initially?’ 

Hoseok ignores him on principal. 

‘It won’t kill me.’

‘True, but it’ll take you a while to dig yourself out.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘Negotiating. Two years of potions and I won’t bury you.’

Jungkook’s eyes flash, flicking to Namjoon who’s garnered enough courage to show himself. 

‘Two years, you don’t bury me and I get to hit him with a car.’ He jabs a finger in Namjoon’s direction.

‘No, he’s a mortal, he’ll die.’

Jungkook’s lips press into a thin line. ‘Three years of potions, don’t bury me and pretty boy get’s a makeover.’ 

Hoseok narrows his eyes. ‘Nothing permanent?’

‘You really are no fun at all.’ 

That’s a deal to Hoseok’s ears. Namjoon clears his throat, raises his hand like he’s in a classroom. ‘Don’t I get a say in this?’ 

‘You hit him with a car, Namjoon,’ Hoseok says. ‘This is me doing you a favour. You’re lucky you’re cute.’

‘Not for much longer,’ Jungkook says, smiling big and Hoseok is kinda surprised that he’s not part-demon. ‘Pleasure doing business with you, witch, now give me a hand out of here. I’ve got a makeover to plan.’