#Friends & Neighbors

[thoregil]

2024-05-09 Friends & Neighbors - Jazzfest, Bar Moskus

[donospl]

Co w jazzie piszczy [sezon 2 odcinek 7]

premierowa emisja 21 lutego 2024 – 18:00 Graliśmy: Rebeka Rusjan Zajc “Illusion” [fragm.]z albumu “Prelude” – Clean Feed Records Friends & Neighbors “Cecil” z albumu “Circles”– Clean Feed Records Jim Baker/Steve Hunt/Jakob Heinemann “Mozart” z albumu “Horizon Scanners”– Clean Feed Records Scheen Jazzorkester & Cortex “Weaving” z albumu “Frameworks – Music by Thomas Johansson” – Clean Feed…

[neo-nomatrix]

(My) Nuisance

Hobie brown x reader

word count: 964

find the rest of the mini series here

synopsis: You thought you hated Hobie, but for some reason you’re starting to like him just as much as you like Spiderman.

a/n: (maybe too much) british slang used

You hate your next door neighbor. No, no you loathe your next door neighbor. You think he is the worst person to possibly exist. His stupid flat decorations, his loud punk-rock music blasting at unruly hours, the way he would come back to his flat at 4 am stomping his boots yelling with his friends about their latest anarchist protest. But you hate nothing more than the way he looks at you.

Everytime you try yelling at him he opens his door with the cheekiest grin on his face. While you’re standing there fuming he’s leaning against the door panel looking you up and down. The worst part is how much he tries to smooth talk you.

“I already told you how annoying your music is, no one wants to hear that at 3 am alright? Some of us have work in the morning,” you complain, smoke practically coming out of your ears.

“Oh c’mon love it’s not that bad. Don’t have to be such a tosser ‘bout it. It messes up that pretty face of yours,” he says.

“Are you daft? You’re the one keeping everyone up at night with your dumb guitar,” you roll your eyes.

“It’s not that big a deal sweetheart. Y’know i'm starting to think you’re making up rubbish just so you can talk to me more. I’ll admit it’s pretty cute but you could just ask me out,” he leans closer to your flushed face.

“I don’t fancy you if that’s what you mean,” you scoff.

“Not saying that. I’m saying if you wanna snog me so bad you could just say so,” he shrugs.

You could burst out laughing. Kiss him? That’s fucking hilarious.

“You’re joking right? i’d rather die.”

“I don’t believe in comedy, love,” he says.

“Of course you don’t,” you mumble as you storm off back to your door.

You’ve decided he is the worst person ever. He doesn’t deserve your efforts and time.

You set your keys down and fall into bed as you hear amp feedback and the sounds of Hobie strumming his guitar. You can’t help but roll your eyes. How could someone be so incompetent?

You reach your hand over to where the bed and the wall meet to grab your Spiderman plush. You hate to admit it because it’s kind of dumb but you’ve always loved spiderman. Ever since you were a little kid you collected posters, figures, pins, and merchandise having to do with the superhero. Even now, your walls are decorated in spiderman posters, you own spiderman clothing, and even printed your keys to have a blue and red spider web on them.

There was something so nostalgic to the vigilante and his style that you had to adorn your room with touches of blue and red. You thought spiderman was the embodiment of “cool.” From his suit to the way he acted around criminals to the electric guitar on his back. Sure, a guitar was the main thing you hated about Hobie but Spiderman did it better. He made it work in the way Hobie dreams of.

You wake up to the loudest knock on your front door you’ve ever heard. You immediately know it’s him. You try to ignore the blaring pounding coming from your door but it keeps going. You force yourself to get up and answer the door. You hope you can open it, yell at him, then go back to bed.

To your dismay the second you open the door Hobie places his hand on the top of the wood, stopping you from moving it anywhere else.

“What do you want this early?” you groan.

“It’s like 9 am, love. But anyway-” He cuts himself off before finishing his sentence. You’re too groggy to notice that he’s staring inside of your flat. His eyes search the walls and decor in front of him.

“So, I take it you like Spiderman?” He laughs.

“That’s none of your business,” you sigh, crossing your arms.

He pushes his way inside of your flat, moving around like he’s looking for buried treasure. He picks up memorabilia and smiles at them. He holds up a Spider-Punk figurine and turns towards you.

“Spider-Punk huh?”

“Don’t touch my stuff! You know this is technically breaking and entering,” you scold him, taking the figure out of his hand.

He puts his hands in his pockets and just smirks at you. That stupid smirk, displaying half of his teeth and perfectly showing his lip ring.

“What do you want from me, Hobie?” you question after placing the figure back on its stand.

“Jus- Just wanted to apologize for last night,” he starts.

“You mean this morning? We talked at 1 am, remember?” You say, passive aggressively.

“Right, whatever. You’re… You’re right,” he exhaled, “I shouldn’t be blasting my music that early. It’s inconsiderate and rude to the people in my vicinity,” he breathes.

In the time you’ve known him you don’t think you’ve ever heard him say sorry. You’re taken aback, did he really apologize? And did he sound genuinely sorry?

“Oh, oh uhm thanks,” you sat, still skeptical a camera crew would come out laughing saying this whole thing was a prank.

“I wanted to see if you maybe wanted to come to my show tonight? We could get dinner after or whatever you want,” He scratches the back of his neck, he’s nervous.

“I’d like that, I guess,” you reluctantly say.

“Wicked. Uhm, i’ll be leaving then. Sorry again,” he says. Shooting finger guns at you and making his way out the door.

You smile, maybe, just maybe, Hobies getting to you. As he’s leaving you could swear you see some blue and red material with spikes on it slipping out of his pocket.

[seospicybin]

ON TOUR.

FINAL PART: ENCORE.

Hyunjin x reader x Felix. (s,f,a)

Chapters: I. SOUNDCHECK / II. OPENING ACT / III. UNPLUGGED / IV. HIDDEN TRACK

Synopsis: Your best friend, Felix, is in a rock band and he takes you to join him on tour as the band’s photographer. On the road, you learn how to deal with his bandmate, Hyunjin, who’s not very welcoming of you. (15,4k words)

Author's note: So sorry for the delay and thank you for liking On Tour! It's been fun you guys, see you on next tour :)

Click here for ON TOUR playlist.

Content warning: A tad bit of angst?

It was a pleasant Sunday afternoon when Felix visited Hyunjin's apartment.

The band only started writing music together, for a few months to be exact. That day's rehearsal was canceled because Han couldn't come, he was sick with a cold even though it was spring, and the weather had been nothing but warm.

Felix spent so much time looking around his place, getting to know his personality through the things he has in his apartment, the pile of books on the coffee table, his record collections, the photos stuck to the door of the fridge, the notebook he kept close to him everywhere he goes that he saw was sitting on the bedside table.

No matter how much he wanted to know what Hyunjin wrote in it, Felix resisted the urge to take a look at it, at least not without Hyunjin's permission.

Hyunjin made him a cup of coffee with a lot of sugar for him, knowing that he is not a fan of the bitter taste of coffee.

Then Hyunjin sat on the single sofa across from him, playing with his guitar and plugging it into the amp, setting the volume low.

"My neighbor has a toddler," Hyunjin shortly explained.

Felix only responded with a nod and took a sip of coffee that still tasted a bit bitter for him but he drank it anyway.

When Hyunjin began playing his guitar, Felix leaned back on the couch and listened to the combination of chords that makes such melodic tunes filling the space.

It was always a mesmerizing thing to see Hyunjin plays guitar, Felix intently listened to the strings buzzing as the metal vibrates underneath his fingers.

Felix knew that he admires Hyunjin, that was what he could easily conclude from what he felt inside him as he sat there across from him.

As softly gust of spring breeze came slipping through the crack of the window that Hyunjin left open, he recognized something else deep down his chest and that amplifies the longer Felix watched Hyunjin plays guitar.

It was when Felix accidentally fell asleep on his couch he knew what it is. He felt comfortable and safe.

When Hyunjin brought him a blanket, Felix pulled it to cover up his face and there, he felt it.

Felix loves Hyunjin.

He would say it but saying it out loud is hard, so hard that he decided not to say anything at all.

Felix thought that once he left his place, the feeling would stay there, not following him, haunting him to this day.

But saying it out loud? No.

Words are futile devices.

-

The after-party is canceled.

Everyone stays in their room until the night ends and it's time to go back home. Felix doesn't mean to make things uncomfortable for everyone, especially those who have no involvement whatsoever in it.

Felix comes to your room, knocking on the door when he's still not sure what to say and do. He even doubts you'll open the door for him.

"I'm sorry," Lou says the first thing he opens the door for him.

He licks his lips before continues speaking, "She left last night."

What makes him think that you would stay after what happened? He feels something stirring inside and making a way out of him.

"But you don't have to worry. I drove her to the airport myself," Lou assures him knowing that Felix might have worried about him.

Felix looks down and turns away, saying nothing else but learn that you left him again, this time, you didn't even say goodbye to him.

Isn't this punishment enough for him?

Hyunjin avoids looking him in the eyes as he enters the plane and sits at the far back, away from him.

Felix is once again surrounded by silence and it makes him lonely, it makes him hear the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces.

Felix not only has lost his chance at love but also his friendship. He loses both his love and happiness.

-

A WEEK LATER.

Here you are, back at your small apartment and to your ordinary life.

You've been staying at your mom's for a few days and wanted to get away from things while mopping about how you hurt not one, but two people's hearts at once.

You hate yourself for that. You will never, ever be able to forgive yourself for that.

But how long will you stay like this? Not doing anything, refusing to move on from things.

You've been staring at your suitcases, too afraid to unpack things that would bring back many memories that you're not ready to recall.

But God! It's been days and you still owe Vin some photos, a lawsuit is probably on its way to your mailbox for contract violation.

For the sake of professionalism, you grab two canned beers from the fridge and sit on the floor. With a deep, deep breath, you slowly unzip your suitcase and open it.

It certainly unlocked a lot of things, not just memories but also the musty smell of the dirty laundry you keep inside a bag.

You hurl the bag of dirty laundry to the corner of the room and start to unpack more things, mementos you took from every stop of the tour. They're all random things, from postcards, fridge magnets, keychains, then all of the passes and wristbands you keep from the concerts and festivals.

You put them together into one Ziploc bag for you to figure out what to do with them later and unpack more things out of the suitcase.

Once you do it, it isn't that hard, it's like taking the bandaid off in one go. It hurts but it's relieving.

Now that everything is back in its place, you move on to the next thing which is your camera bag. Unpacking it while waiting for your laptop to load. You take out everything and carefully lay the camera and lenses on the table, ready to see the accumulated dirt at the bottom of it.

You find a lot of memory cards as you turn the bag upside down and put them in the tray along with the others to check what's the content. You found another thing, a piece of solid plastic with the name Ssick written on it, you believe it's a guitar pick.

How did it get there? You can't recall but it certainly reminds you of someone.

Your heart aches even though no one is saying his name but deep down you're addressing him as his face flashes in the back of your head.

And you miss him, a lot.

You drop the guitar pick on the little tray where you keep all of your memory cards and resist the urge to break down once again, no, you have to do things and keep moving.

Also, you have to stop a lawsuit from happening.

You start by opening your emails and found several of them asking for photos in urgency. It's such a sore thing to see but the only way now is through.

Gritting your teeth, you start working through the night and are glad that it helps take your mind off of things, by the time you're done, you're too tired to even think.

In other words, you get to sleep without crying tonight.

-

It takes everything in you to get out of the apartment and it's not like everyone going to know what you've done, right? You're not Yoko Ono.

You can do the laundry at home but you choose to do it at the laundromat. Opening the lid to one of the washing machines, you dump everything from the laundry bag inside, not having any energy left to sort it first.

After making sure it's working just fine, you get yourself a cup of coffee from the vending machine, then sit on the bench with headphones on.

You bring your laptop with you to check if you get new work emails or if the lawsuit goes to your spam folder. Who knows?

To find something to do, you sort out your work folders and named them based on the stop of the tour. There's a separate folder that you know why it's there.

The song that is playing through your headphones seems to sense that you yearn for someone's presence. Your finger clicked open the folder without you intending to, inside of it is something you promised to make and gift to someone.

You scroll down and see all the memories frozen in pictures, reminiscing the times you took them with or without him knowing.

These photos represent how he looked through your eyes, cool and poised, but underneath that exterior, he's kind and lovely, you feel warm whenever you see his smile. He's the sunshine that brightens your day. He's your best friend and you love him.

You miss him, terribly.

"How I wish, how I wish you were here..."

It's unfortunate that you and he have to go through this thing again. First, it was the distance but time has brought you back together and now, you're not sure that you'll be able to be a good friend to him anymore.

You lied, you betrayed him, you said something that you shouldn't have because it wasn't your place to tell, you broke not just his heart but also the friendship.

You can't bear to see that he will not be in your life anymore, but deep down you're undeserved of being a friend to him.

There's a lump growing in your throat the more you think about him but God, you wish he was here.

"Wish you were here..."

-

THREE WEEKS LATER

It should be good news that the band is having an encore show next month.

There should be cheering sounds and happy smiles and flooding the room with enthusiasm, this means the fans want the band back and to have another show.

Instead of all that, the room remains quiet, no one says anything but nods, to let everyone in the room knows that they heard.

Felix would be excited if only his head wasn't all over the place, his heart wasn't in smithereens and he could tell someone all about it but that someone never picked up his calls.

Felix never meant to mix his personal affair with work but unfortunately, his bandmate is involved in it too. He doesn't mean for things to go this way.

When he glances at Han, he too, doesn't look as enthusiastic. He probably if he wasn't in the middle of his two bandmates who hasn't spoken to each other for weeks.

It frustrates him too.

There are so many things left unsaid, but he can't say things without being mistaken or misunderstood. For this once, Felix wishes that Hyunjin could read his mind so he knows that he's just as hurt, just as sad, just as... confused about himself.

As the band manager dismissed the short and unmeaningful meeting, Hyunjin who didn't even glance his way once, rushes to get out of the room.

The first thought that crosses Felix's head is does Hyunjin hates him that much? That much that he can't stay in the same room with for too long?

Han appears behind him and gently squeezes Felix's shoulder, "just give him time," he says.

Time.

They said time heals, then why Felix is suffering? Why do things remain broken?

Time is not the only thing Felix has given him, he's given him space and distance and silence. All he needed to know is how long he and Hyunjin have to continue living like this.

Whenever he sees him, Hyunjin doesn't try to catch his eyes like he usually does, doesn't even register a smile.

The man who once knew him now feels like Hyunjin sees through him.

Felix admits that he was wrong to think of him as more than just a friend but oh... the feeling.

And It's sad that after all they had, they act like they had never met, but Felix can't just turn his feelings off like a light switch.

The heart might be part of the human body, but somehow it's always out of our control.

-

Felix comes down from the meeting room a while after everyone has left for their respective activities. He doesn't have anything much to do today but to check on his wrist for he had accidentally sprained it once during the tour.

When he arrives at the lobby of the agency, he's surprised to see Lou there. His bleached blond hair turn dark and longer now and he smiles when he sees him.

"I thought you left already," Lou says.

Felix comes up to him as he sits on the square sofa, "what are you doing here?"

"Why? I can't come to visit the agency?"

Felix shyly laughs, he only realized then that his question sounded so unwelcoming when the truth is he was just slightly taken aback.

Lou is a friend of Han and always seems to linger by his side, to see him waiting for him piqued his curiosity as to why?

"Sorry, I mean, Han has left for the studio," Felix stammers.

Lou chuckles in response, "I know," he shortly replies.

"I waited for you because I have something for you," he says, grabbing a paper bag sitting next to him.

Something for him? First, he waited for him and now he's about to give him something. Felix takes the paper bag from him, "are you sure it's for me?"

He nods, "hate to tell you that it isn't from me."

Felix glances up after taking a little peek inside the bag, "Oh?" His voice curls into a little disappointment.

"Are you that sad that it's not from me?" Lou asks between his chuckles.

Felix shakes his head, "No, I mean..." he gets embarrassed that he doesn't know what to say.

"I'm just the messenger," Lou says with that nonchalant shrug of his.

Felix can't know for sure what's inside because he only sees a big gift box and nothing else. He can't wait to take it home and find out.

But before that, he looks at Lou and it's the first time he feels good seeing someone in a while, one that doesn't get affected by what happened, one who treats him just the same.

"Thank you," Felix sincerely mutters his gratitude.

"No problem," he replies.

Lou picks up his bag from the floor and slings the strap across his shoulder, "You have to thank the real sender," he adds.

Listening to what Lou said, Felix is getting more curious about the person who sent him this.

"Are you going to the studio?" He asks, somehow feeling a little sad that the meeting was short.

"No," Lou answers, "I'm helping a friend with his gallery opening."

"Oh?" Felix lowly exclaims in both awe and surprise.

It baffles him that he knew Lou for two years now but knows so little about him. He heard only a few things about Lou from you, that he can skate, he can DJ, he plays ice hockey, he once helped you trim your hair on tour and so much more.

Felix heard so many good things about Lou yet he only reached to him when he needed help to do something, never once properly treated him like a friend.

However, it's never too late to start.

"Thank you, Lou!" Felix says with utmost sincerity.

Lou softly smiles like he always does and Felix wishes that it will forever stay like that, never changing.

Perhaps, Lou can see in Felix's eyes that he is thanking him for him, then with an open heart, accepts his gratitude.

"See you later?" Lou asks.

Felix smiles at him, "See you later!"

-

It's right in front of him.

Felix takes the gift box out of the paper bag the first thing he got to his apartment, put it on the table in front of him, and stares at it for a minute.

It's unclear what he expects to happen by staring at it.

Deep down, Felix can tell who it is from and he hesitates to open it because he knows he'll be hit by a wave of emotions that, once again, he has no power to control.

Taking a deep breath, Felix lifts the lid and looks inside.

There's a Polaroid camera and boxes of films to fill it. He puts them aside on the table, then pulls out something from the bottom of the box.

He tears through the brown wrapper, revealing a photo album inside. It must be the special gift you promised him.

He's not prepared for it but at the same time, can't wait to discover what lies inside. Flipping the album open, he reads the words written on the first page.

"Our adventure."

It says and he recognized that handwriting and that little curl at the end of every letter resembles the curl of your smile.

Felix flips to the next page and sees the photos of you and him, from your shared teen years. His fingers trail the glossy surface of the photo and wishes that he can feel your warm smile under his fingertips.

He swears he almost heard the sound of your laugh when his finger hovers to the other photo where the two of you are laughing together.

Every time Felix recalls the memory each photo holds, his heart aches for he longed for the times when everything was much simpler, much easier, and happier with you.

Then he comes to a different part, it says.

"My adventure."

For this part, the pages are of your photos from when you were studying abroad, doing various things from cooking to going on a hike, mostly of beautiful places you visit and food you ate.

He guesses that you want to share it with him, all these pretty sceneries with its pretty skies. You're filling in the part when you were absent in his life.

Instead of being sad that he wasn't in this part of your life, he's grateful to know that you were happy and didn't stop yourself from living in the moment.

Simply put, he'll always be happy as long as you're happy. He turns to the next part and finds another piece of writing.

"Our adventure."

You add a little scribble under the words and wrote, "Part 2!"

These are the photos you took during the tour, most of them were goofy ones. There's a photo of him sleeping, eating a cup of noodles, napping with his hands under his chin, of his messy bedhead and so much more snapshots you took without him knowing.

Also, more photos of you together, having slurpees and snacks at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. He misses these little things he did with you, the random conversation talked in between sips and laughs in between words.

Even the most ordinary things feel special when he does it with you.

He opens to the next part of the album that says.

"Your adventure."

As he turns the page, they're all blank, then he realizes why it was sent with a camera. It's useless now that he has no idea what to do with it.

The only adventure he wants to do is with you.

-

It's strange to have a lot of space.

You're so used to living in a small apartment, everything is within reach and you can see everything in one frame.

But now, after moving into a new apartment and it's much bigger than the previous one, you feel a little desolate.

Isn't it a dream to finally have a studio of your own?

It's not big but it's enough, you can pin all of your favorite photographs on one side of the wall and stare at it as much as you want.

You do most things on the first floor because that's where everything is, the kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room blurred into one with the studio. The second floor is strictly private, it's your bedroom and it has ceiling-to-floor windows which is your favorite part of your new apartment.

Another good news is you're booked now, not as in you're fully booked until the end of the year but you received a job offer from here and there.

Today, you got to do a photo shoot with a band for a music magazine. Well, they're not Ssick and not as big, but you heard of their name, not sure when or where, but it's a familiar one.

As you try to recall when was the first time you heard the band's name, you heard footsteps coming from behind you. You haven't had time to meet any of your neighbors, so you turn on your feet to greet them and perhaps, get to introduce yourself to them.

"Hi, hello, I'm your new—"

Your mouth stays open but words stop coming out of it. The one you're seeing is not your neighbor, that you know for sure.

Felix is standing there, exactly like that night when the two of you met again after years.

"Hey," he says.

It takes everything in you not to cry right there, you're happy and sad at the same time but on top of all that, it makes you ask yourself how did you break his heart like that?

You push the lump growing in your throat down and manage to put on a smile for him.

"Hey," you say back even though that isn't supposed to be the first word you should say to him.

It should be "I'm sorry", "I can't apologize enough", or "Please forgive me" and you have the chance to say that but it's not easy.

Instead of that, you ask, "Want to come in?"

He sheepishly smiles and says, "Yes, please!"

-

Felix comes at a bad time.

Not only that your apartment is still a mess, you haven't bought groceries yet. What you have in your fridge right now are bottles of water and some leftover dinner from last night.

"It's a nice place," Felix's deep voice echoing that it startles you.

You turn around and smile, "Yeah, I think so too," you respond and aware of how stupid that sounded.

Coffee is not an option since Felix doesn't like it that much, you turn to look inside the kitchen cabinet and find a box of teabags, "tea?" You hastily offer.

"Sounds nice," he says.

The two of you are sitting on the same sofa not saying anything but watching the curl of the steam coming from the two mugs of hot tea on the coffee table.

Weeks without speaking to each other and now it feels like the two of you are ex-lovers who have gone through a nasty break-up.

Oh well, it's close to something like that.

"I guess you knew from my mom?" You decide to be the first to shatter the dead air hanging between you and him.

"Your new apartment?"

You nod.

"Well, I asked my mom to ask your mom and..." he stops explaining, then chuckles.

"I know," you say.

Before the silence resides once again, you think of something else to ask him, "So, how are you doing?"

It's natural for him to always seek closeness, and intimacy when he's talking to you that you find him slowly closing the space between you and him.

"Good," he shortly replies.

You slightly turn your body to face him but look anywhere else but his eyes, "I saw that you guys are having an encore show," you say.

"Yes," he sighs like it's a piece of bad news.

You reach for your tea but pause as Felix asks you the same thing, "How are you doing?"

You hook your fingers around the handle of the mug, "I'm okay," you answer with an easy smile.

Felix glances at your studio and stares at the photos stuck to the wall, "must be exciting moving into a new apartment!"

You bravely glance his way for a second to see his impressed smile then look away before he notices.

"I saw the ad you did," he says, calmly feeling the upholstery of the sofa and aimlessly drawing lazy circles on it.

"They're amazing. Guess you're fully booked now, huh?" he teases with a low chuckle.

One thing about Felix is he always talks with utmost sincerity, everything that comes out of his mouth contained warmth and purity, and he talks with all of his heart.

Which only reminds you what kind of person you are for breaking that heart. You wrap your hand around the mug and absorb the heat with your palm, it burns but it's nothing compared to what you've been through.

"Actually, Felix..."

He turns his head at you, "Yeah?"

You stare down at your lap for a while before continuing to speak, "I'm not okay at all."

Tears start to pool in your eyes because that's what happens when you start speaking your heart out.

"I feel horrible," your voice begins to quiver as tears roll down your face, "I feel horrible for what I am, of what have I become."

You press your eyes with the heels of your hands to stop the tears despite knowing that it's useless, "I hate myself for what I did, for being a horrible friend to you, for telling things I don't even have the rights to tell, for—"

You're unable to finish your sentence as tears caught in your throat.

It's natural for him to always answer your distress call. He quickly grabs your hand to provide comfort.

"So, no, I'm not okay at all. I broke your heart, I broke our friendship, I broke us," your hands flew to cover your face as your cries turn into sobbing.

Felix doesn't say anything but holds you, holds you so tight as if he's trying to assure you that he's right there with you, despite what you've just said to him.

"I'm sorry," you sob into his chest as your body shakes in his embrace.

Felix suddenly pulls away and holds you by the shoulders. Then you see that his eyes are red and teary, he's crying too.

"Did you really think I was mad at you over someone?"

You can't answer with you keep constantly hiccuping from holding your sobs in.

"I'm indeed mad," he says.

Your eyes are blurry with tears but you can see that Felix is crestfallen, not mad.

"I am mad because years ago you didn't tell me that you were going to study abroad and you left just like that when you promised that we'd be staying together," he explains.

He takes a deep breath to continue talking, "And you did it again!"

You can sense the anger and the disappointment in his voice despite he was trying to fight the tears from falling down his face.

"You broke your promise, you left me again and you didn't even say goodbye to me this time."

Felix looks away for a moment to not lose it to his emotions, to calm himself down. He breathes through his mouth and turns to look at you again, "I'm also mad because I couldn't be a better friend for you—"

You stop him from talking by grabbing a fistful of his shirt and shaking your head, "No, no, it's not you, it's me."

He pulls you close and lets your head falls onto his shoulder, resting his hand on the back of your head, he puts his head on top of yours.

Sorry wouldn't be enough to make up for what you did but then again, you have nothing else to say but sorry.

"I'm sorry," you can barely finish your words without crying. Your hand clutching at the front of his top already soaked with your tears.

He hastily kisses the top of your head and keeps his head close to you, "You are my best friend. I love you more than..." he pauses.

Taking a deep breath, Felix can finally continue speaking, "I rather lose my chance at love than lose you."

Even after all that happened, he still chooses you who lied, was disloyal, and broke his heart. Not to mention, you did it twice yet he still welcomed you with an open heart, letting you in and willingly putting his heart at risk once more.

People would call him a fool for that but for you, that's just Felix.

He's beautiful and kind and has a big, big heart that even if you broke it, his heart still overflows with love and making you ask yourself is it okay to receive it this much from him?

There's one thing you can do now, try to return it to him with the same amount even though you know he'll always have more for you.

The two of you stay like that, pouring out all of your hearts and bleeding together, consoling and seeking comfort from each other, letting the bad out so you both have room for something new and hopefully, better things.

The two of you have always been criers so it's no surprise that it takes an hour for you to finally calm down. You both laughed seeing each other's face from crying, swollen eyes, and runny nose.

The teas are cold by the time you reach for it to have a sip, "don't drink it. It's terrible," you tell him.

Felix looks at his tea and cringe, "I don't even drink tea," he says.

"I know."

"Then why did you?" He asks with an annoyed glare.

You chuckle and put down your mug again to grab more tissues to blow your nose.

"Want to go and grab some meals?"

"Looking like this?" He asks in disbelief, pointing at his swollen face from crying.

You laugh again and take the mugs back to the kitchen, putting them in the sink.

"Well, there's always drive-thru," you simply resolve with a smile.

-

When you thought Felix is ordering that much food for both of you, he sits back down in his seat and asks you, "What do you want?"

You got into a little fight because you insist on paying this time and once you got your order, you parked the car in the empty part of the parking lot, facing the busy main street.

It's not an ideal place to eat and talk about things in between, catching up on all the lost time and enlightening him about some misunderstandings.

"I didn't mean to not tell you about studying abroad because I did, I just..." you pause to sip your soda through a straw.

You recall how you decided not to tell him that you were going to leave him to study something that he didn't even know you have a passion for.

"You were always so excited about music and how you wanted to do it with me," you continue.

You turn to look at him in the dark of the car with the only source of light coming from the streetlight, "I didn't want to ruin that for you."

Felix puts down the piece of fry he's holding and sighs, "I understand," he says.

He wipes his hand with a napkin, "I was mad and heartbroken but now, after hearing that, I'm glad that you took it, glad that I didn't force you to stay," he sincerely says.

It's a relief that Felix finally knows the truth and that it was just a misunderstanding, but there's another thing that he should know.

"You know I got homesick all the time," you confess.

Felix drinks his soda by gulping it instead of using a straw.

"And it wasn't a place or a thing, or... the food," you gleefully chuckle.

"It was you. I missed you when I was away."

There's a crease formed a questioning expression on his face, "Only when you were away?"

You break into laughter and nod, "yeah, only when we're far away from each other," you confirm.

Felix takes a moment to process this newfound fact then nods, "Okay, I can accept that."

The food wrappers mount in the front seat of the car and you shove everything into the plastic bag while Felix is connecting his phone to the car stereo so he can play some music.

You hand him his cup of ice cream then you pick up your own, opening the lid to dig into it with a spoon. Maybe it's because both of you are full and both staring out at the windshield, the silence taking over the space but it's the comfortable kind.

It creates this safe space where Felix finally found the comfort to speak his heart out. He puts down his cup and sighs as he reclines in his seat.

"I wasn't even sure it is love," he begins.

You keep eating the melted ice cream in silence while intently listening to him.

"I just thought that I only admire him because he's so cool, you know?" He says with a foolish smile.

You nod in agreement and that's not because you're biased, it's a widely known and proven fact.

"So I allow myself to admire him more, getting to know him more and he let me."

Felix stares up at the car ceiling, not sure what he's seeing at it then continues talking, "But he makes me feel seen, he always acknowledging my presence, he's so involved in my life that the next thing I know, I'm in it. I'm in love."

He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh. Those words are louder than the music playing in the car, he lets those words hang in the air and echo in the small space, in the hope that it will help him find the answer.

Felix gets nothing but the quiet of the night with the constant buzzing of the streetlight looming over the car.

"I know I couldn't just tell him that and he'd reciprocate it," he says with a snide laugh.

"So I hold it in because it's better to not say it than risk losing everything by saying it out loud," his voice turns lower the more he speaks.

He then turns his head and looks at you, "I couldn't tell you because..." he stops in the middle of the sentence and you can't tell if he's running out of breath or losing his thoughts.

He looks away then shakes his head, "I honestly don't know. I just feel like..."

He stops again and he closes his eyes as if what he's going to say next pains him.

"I fear that you would change around me," he mutters.

You feel something dropping onto your lap and only realized it then that you're crying. Somehow you're not mad about his decision to not tell you about it, it's normal for him to be scared to open up a part of himself and the judgments he'll get from it.

Rather than being mad, you feel bad for not being there for him when he needs you the most.

"You know I love you," you tell him with your tears rolling down your cheeks.

You gently put your hand on his and hold it, "I love you no matter what," you assure him while staring into his glassy eyes.

Felix sniffles as he fights the urge to cry and puts his other hand on you.

"That's not the only thing that makes you, Felix. I've known you for years and you better believe me when I tell you that you're of so many things," you tell him.

You swallow air to not let your cry get in the way while you're talking, "You're of so many lovely things. You are beautiful and kind, you're a good person, you have a good heart, you never think ill of anyone, you're thoughtful and passionate about what you do, you—"

You squeeze his hand to emphasize the words you're going to say to him, "you deserve everything and more."

Felix retracts his hand to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand and takes a deep breath. He looks at you with a sad smile on his face, "Thank you," he says with a hoarse voice.

"You are very welcome," you tell him.

You grab the clean napkins from your lap and hand them to him, taking one for you too.

"Oh, great! We're crying again!" You complain while dabbing your teary eyes with it.

Felix laughs as he also wipes his cheeks with the napkin, laughing at each other's faces again for the second time that day.

It reminds you of that song and how the two of you fit in those lyrics: "We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year, running over the same old ground. What have we found? The same old fears. Wish you were here."

There's no need to wish now because he's right here.

-

Always being the good friend he is, Felix refuses your offer to drive him home.

You walk out of the apartment building together to get a taxi for him. The night is getting cold as it's the beginning of fall.

"I'll send you tickets for our encore shows," he says with a jeering smile.

"No, thanks, I'll buy it myself like anyone else," you kindly refuse.

He covers your mouth with his hand and shakes his head no, "I'll send you tickets for both days so you have no excuse to not come to at least one of them," he insists.

Since you can't say anything with his hand over your mouth, you give in with an annoyed glare.

Felix triumphantly smiles and puts his hand down, he stares at you, he has that look when he hesitates to ask something.

"What is it?"

He licks his lips before speaking, "Have you two talked?"

Your smile wavers even though you have expected this question, "Felix, I don't think I—"

"Why? Are you afraid that I'll be jealous?"

You take a step back but he closes the space again, "or are you afraid that he'll choose me?" He jokingly asks.

He puts his hand on your shoulder and gently squeezes at it, "it takes no genius to know that he likes you very much," he says.

"Do you like him too? That I don't know."

You scoff and look down at your feet, not sure if you're avoiding Felix and his questions or anything related to Hyunjin altogether.

"But like you said, we've known each other for years and I know you like him back," he concludes that you know is true and there's no use to deny it, Felix would know when you're lying.

"And..." he cups your face with both hands and makes you look at him, "I'm not getting in the way of my friends' happiness."

He leans in close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, "I'm happy if you're happy, remember?"

There's no way that there's another Felix in this world, he's special, one of a kind and you're lucky that he's your best friend.

"No, it's just... not going to work. He's..." you try to avoid saying his name but it comes to a moment where you can't describe him in another way.

"Hyunjin..." and saying his name unlocks the memories and the emotions that come with it.

You take Felix's hands and put them down, "And I am just... me."

Not giving up yet, he holds your hands and warmly smiles at you, "and you're of so many things. You're smart, you're funny, you're a great photographer, you're beautiful, you're a great friend, a great person."

You can't help but smile when he compliments you the same way you did to him.

"And you deserve to be happy," he adds in the end.

You so badly want to believe that but having your friendship back is already more than you deserve, how come you still want more?

You shake your head and refuse to be greedy, shaking your head to convince yourself that this is not what you want. You already have what you want and he's right in front of you, "Felix, I don't want to—"

The only hard thing to do is say no to Felix, you look away and see a taxi coming your way.

"There's a taxi," You run to the side of the street while hailing for it.

Felix sighs knowing that you choose to leave the conversation instead of going through it with him. He walks over as you open the taxi door for him.

"I take it that you're promised to come to our shows," he says, not accepting any other answer from you.

You nod and smile.

He pulls you into a hug and holds you tightly, "thank you for tonight," he murmurs.

You hug him back and absorb the heat of his body that always puts you in comfort, "thank you for tonight," you murmur back.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, smiling so brightly to finally land a kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you soon!"

"See you soon," you repeat and to surprise him, kiss him back on the cheek.

He gets taken aback for a while and blinks his eyes at you. While holding his cheek he says, "I like that," he innocently says.

You laugh and push him into the backseat of the taxi, "Goodnight! Be careful!"

Felix rolls down the window to wave his hand at you, "It's cold! Get inside!"

You give him the thumb up while taking a few steps back to watch his taxi drives further away from you.

As you're making your way back inside, you convince yourself that this is enough. You got your friendship back therefore you shouldn't be thinking that you can have love too.

-

It's time for Felix to fix the other friendship.

He knows it would be just as hard but it's for the good of both his friendship and the band. They can't continue to treat each other like this but at the same time think as if nothing happened.

Before the band rehearsal starts, he comes up to Hyunjin as he's tuning his guitar inside the studio. He gulps air and gathers his guts to ask him, "Hey, can we talk?"

Hyunjin glances up to see him and he seems to have expected this, he puts his guitar away, then says, "Alright."

Han puts his bass down as he notices that they need privacy so he leaves the studio, then closes the door behind him.

It's a good thing that they're talking in a soundproofed room, Felix can easily talk without fearing that someone could hear them. But when it comes to talking, he doesn't know where to begin.

"You know everything by now," Felix nervously starts.

He wipes his palms down his jeans even though they're not sweaty, "I always have my eyes on you but obviously, now, you have your eyes on someone else," he awkwardly chuckles.

It's making him nervous as Hyunjin remains quiet, he would be grateful if Hyunjin is yelling at him instead of staying silent.

"I'm sorry," Felix hurriedly concludes before he starts aimlessly rambling on and on.

"I didn't mean for you to find out about this. I was going to keep it all in—"

"For how long?" Hyunjin cuts through his words with eyes intensely staring at him.

"W-what do you mean?" Felix stutters as it's the first time Hyunjin snapped at him like this.

Hyunjin gets up from his chair and stands right in front of him, face to face and giving him no way out but going through it with him.

"How long did you plan to keep it a secret?" He asks again.

Felix takes a step back and reorganizes his breathing.

"Why do you like me?" Hyunjin bluntly asks.

It's getting harder for Felix to breathe he feels like his lungs are collapsing, "I didn't mean to. I-I..."

Felix doesn't know how to explain it. One day he came to the realization that he has feelings for Hyunjin.

"It just happened. I don't know," he explains. He's just as clueless as Hyunjin about everything.

"Why, Felix? Why?"

"I don't know," Felix replies with a desperate sigh.

"Why—"

"I said I don't know," this time Felix cuts him off with an aggressive answer.

Hyunjin searches for his eyes and forces him to look back at him, "Why did you apologize?"

Felix sees that Hyunjin's gaze softens and he's no longer mad, he's rather sad, it's a heartbreaking sight to see.

Hyunjin licks his lips and brushes his hair to the back, "you have feelings for me but I know it can't be helped," he says.

He puts his hand on Felix's shoulder and looks deeper into his eyes, "I should be the one apologizing to you."

Felix has everything planned in his hand but this is not part of that, he got speechless the table is turned.

"For being such an asshole, for being insensitive and a lousy friend," he softly speaks while keeps looking into Felix's eyes.

Hyunjin puts his other hand on Felix's shoulder and lets out a long, shaky air. It seems like he's struggling to let out what he's going to say next.

"Felix, I appreciate you so much because I know that I'll never find another one like you and I would give you everything you wanted in the world," he explains.

He drops his head for a second before looking at his face again with an even sadder expression on his face, "That I am I deeply apologize for," his eyes are heavy with sadness that it's tugging Felix's heart and weighing him down.

"I cannot give you what you want," he says with a defeated sigh.

The lump in Felix's throat feels like a hot coal that burns him from the inside the longer he keeps himself from crying and so far he's been doing a great job at it.

"But will you stay beside me even though I can't give you what you want?" Hyunjin asks.

Felix knows that Hyunjin is not just asking. This question determines everything, this is where their path branches out and they have to choose where to go.

It means that Felix has to deal with the fact that Hyunjin can't accept his love and it's not like he has a chance in the first place.

Felix clears his throat before giving his final answer, "To always have you beside me is enough for me," he puts on a smile at the end of the sentence.

A smile finally rises on Hyunjin's face after a long time and it warms his heart to see it. He pulls Felix into a hug and pats his back as he eases into his arms, "thank you," he murmurs.

"Thank you," Felix says back and he can't tell him what he's grateful for, but Felix believes Hyunjin knows what he's grateful for as their hearts are the closest they have been to each other in years with mere flesh and bones in between, beating as one.

Han soon comes into the studio and hugs both of them, smiling and seeing his friends making up, making the band whole again.

"I told you guys not to fight over me," He jokes as he puts his arms around them.

Other than himself, Felix is aware that he must have been putting the band in distress, but he's glad that they give him the space and time, and patience as he picks things up at his pace. 

They're part of who he is now because everyone around him helped him grow, they're there whenever he has to decide and affects the decision he takes. They hold a part of him as he has parts of them in him, they're one, and they're going on an adventure together.

Hyunjin pulls him into the middle and squeezes him together with Felix.

"I think we all should kiss and make up," Han playfully suggests.

Hyunjin, repulsed by what he said, doesn't waste time to groan, "EW!!!"

While Felix, as the personification of love touch, endearingly kisses him on the cheek. Han grimaces but not moving until Felix pulls away.

"Now we make out," Felix jokes.

Han screams in panic, "No, I said make up not make out!"

As Hyunjin holds him by his waist, Felix grabs Han's face and angles it to him, laughing as he's witnessing everything.

"I'm pretty sure I heard make out!"

Felix jokingly leans in closer while Han's scream is getting louder and louder. 

This is going to be one Ssick adventure.

-

It brings back memories as you enter the concert venue except that tonight, you'll be watching from the front and among the crowd.

Felix texted you a few times asking if you came or not, you feel bad for not replying. For this one night, you want to experience their show like everyone else and not through the camera like you always do.

Indeed, it feels different now that you're a part of the crowd and get to watch the show, singing to every song at the top of your lungs and not worrying about anything else but having fun.

Sure, your heart hurts seeing him but with this euphoric feeling of the thumping music and loud cheers, it helps to dull the pain.

As for the band, they're getting bigger and bigger each day, literally and figuratively, they're not stopping, if anything, they're speeding on their way to the top.

You're proud of them and proud that you've been a part of it despite having just a small role in it. You're proud to be a part of their history.

Ssick, the greatest band to ever exist.

-

"Are you sure it's taken?"

Felix has been asking staff if someone has taken the seat he reserved for you. He has no other choice since you didn't reply to any of his texts.

"Yes, it says the ticket is scanned," the staff replies.

He's pacing back and forth while wiping his sweat with a towel, ignoring that he's tired from the show. The others are anxiously seeing him and Han gets curious as to what he's so antsy about.

"Are you waiting for someone?" He asks.

Felix looks around the room to find Hyunjin, he's nowhere so he must be showering right now. However, he smiles at Han and shakes his head, "Nothing."

He takes his phone and furiously types a new text message to send you.

Lou comes barging into the green room with a loud banging sound of the door opening, "I found this loitering outside, should we take it or...?"

Felix gets a Deja Vu, he once heard those same words before. He spun around to find Lou grinning while pulling someone behind him.

"Can you stop texting me already?" You complain while showing your phone buzzing with a new one he just sent you.

Felix squints his eyes at you, slightly annoyed that you ruin his plan to surprise everyone with your presence.

He walks toward you, scolding and pointing his finger at you, "You! Why didn't you—"

Someone cuts into the line and gets to you first, "What are you doing here? You're fired, remember?" Vin jokes.

You roll your eyes at him and give him a quick hug, "I am not fired," you persist through your gritted teeth.

Vin laughs then takes a good look at you, "What's that on your face? Is that makeup?"

You groan and stop his hand from touching your face. He's probably used to seeing your bare face with only a few layers of sunscreen and your eyes always look tired.

"Where's your camera? Don't you have photos to retouch?" He jokes again.

"Excuse me, I'm not working for you anymore," you say with a sly smile.

"You!" Vin is a second away from scolding you.

It's weird to say you miss being scolded by him but you do. You hurriedly linked your arm with him and grinned at him, "Please don't hesitate to hire me again!"

Felix doesn't want to wait any longer, he comes to hug you, "You didn't reply to my texts," he continuously nagging you.

"Oh, my God! I'm here now!" You mumble as you hug him back.

Han appears behind Felix, shouting, "Look at that! Our girl is back!"

He takes his turn to give you a quick hug, "Why didn't you come by before the show starts?"

You shrug, "It was a great show by the way and I got to fully enjoy every bit of it without having to worry someone about to scold me for not getting any great photos," you uneasily glance at Vin and giggle.

"Put you on the blacklist," he jokingly says.

You turn at Han again then at Felix, you do realize that someone else missing from this scene. You swallow air before continuing, "But seriously! Amazing, amazing show!"

It's nothing new to them that you're bad at conveying your thoughts into words, two thumbs up are enough to emphasize those words and assure them that you meant every word you said.

"Amazing!"

Just like it was timed, Hyunjin comes out of the other room while drying his hair with a towel, sucking a bottle of water. It's like time stops and you and him are the only ones existing in this moment, eyes met with so many words left unsaid.

He's so close yet so far, he's within your grasp but out of your touch. He's like a dream that you don't want to wake up to but you can't stay asleep forever. You have to face the truth that you can't have him in your wake.

You look away and turn at Felix, "Love your solo today!" You awkwardly compliment him.

"How about me?" Han asks, feeling competitive over silly things.

"You're great as always!" You say while patting his head.

Lou pulls Han back and keeps him in his place, "will you also come for tomorrow's show?"

"Not sure. I have work tomorrow," you reply.

"At least come to the after-party," Lou whines like a toddler.

You softly chuckle, "I'll try."

Felix notices that you avoid looking in Hyunjin's direction as he stands across the room, quietly opening a new can of drink.

It's sad if you have to lose your chance at love too, not when he knows that Hyunjin is in love with you and you're just as in love with him.

He doesn't want to be that person who stops his friends from their happiness.

"For tonight, I'll let you guys rest and it was truly a great show. I had so much fun!" You tell them once again.

Felix grabs your elbow, "you're leaving already?"

"Yeah," you simply answer.

You take his hand and hold it, "I'll see you again."

"Tomorrow?" He guesses.

You only answer with a chuckle and that doesn't put him at ease.

"It's nice seeing you guys! Good luck for tomorrow!" You say for the last time.

Waving your hands at them by the doorway, Felix catches your sad smile a second before you turn away to leave.

There's no way he's doing nothing when he knows his best friend deserves a happy ending.

-

To say that he's happy to see you would be an understatement.

Hyunjin is ecstatic, elated, delirious with happiness and that's just from looking at you. What would it be if he could do more than just look?

He wants to touch you, hug you, and kiss you, he's yearning for you, missing you like he's losing a limb of his body. He's alive but he's barely breathing.

Why can't you do this? Why can't you love him back? Why can't you at least try for him? Why?

That question lingers in his head until Felix stops him from entering the van. Hyunjin looks at him with eyes widening, "what's wrong?"

"Exactly!" Felix says back at him.

He grips the strap of his bag so hard that his knuckle turns white, "what is wrong with you?"

Hyunjin is not in the mood to talk, especially when he's tired and heartbroken still. He takes a step back to prevent himself from doing things he doesn't intend to.

"I'm tired," he shortly responds, then tries to walk past him to enter the van.

Felix once again stops him by putting his hand against his chest, "so that's it?"

"What do you want? Really?" Hyunjin may have raised his voice louder.

"You're not going to chase after her and try to fix it?" Felix raises his voice even louder at him.

Han pops his head out from inside the van, "guys, please?" He pleads, scared that they might lose it this time.

Hyunjin unclenches his jaws and instantly regretted snapping at him, "She said she doesn't want to do this," he meekly says.

"Then try to convince her!" Felix simply resolves.

He takes a deep breath to calm himself down and lowers his voice this time, "If you really love her, then prove it to her! Go to her!"

As much as Hyunjin wanted to be with you, he thinks of Felix. Hyunjin has gone through the same thing, so he knows how it feels to be in that position, to keep both sides happy he has to sacrifice his happiness.

Hyunjin drops his bag to the floor and sighs, "what if—"

Felix takes his bag from him and tosses it into the van in which Lou grabs it in time. He then takes his phone out of his jeans pocket. 

"Don't think!" He says.

Hyunjin's phone buzzes from inside his jacket pocket and opens the text Felix just sent him. It's an address.

"Just do it!" Felix adds.

But does this mean Felix is on his team?

Felix grabs Hyunjin's shoulder and shakes it, "what are you waiting for?"

While holding Hyunjin's bag, Lou says, "I'll cover for you. Go!"

Hyunjin looks at Felix and there are so many things he wanted to say to him. Among apologies, he wants to say how grateful he is for him, to be existing at the same time with him and being his friend.

All that comes out of his mouth is, "Thank you."

-

Hyunjin's heart is pitter-patter. He feels like it's going to jump out of his chest at any moment as he arrived in your apartment building.

He takes the stairs as if his heart rate isn't high enough, taking two stairs at a time until he gets there, right in front of your door.

There are a few things he would say that he has prepared for the moment you open the door. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. His excitement gradually fades as every knock on your door is left unanswered.

"It's me," he says just in case you wonder who's knocking in the middle of the night.

He knocks again but there's still no answer. Getting hopeless, he leans close to the door and talks loud enough for you to hear.

"Can you please open the door for me?"

He closes his eyes and lets out a desperate sigh, "Please?"

This is what he fears the most, not the rejection but not getting the chance to explain and make things right. At least, he can go home now knowing he has tried his best.

With a heavy heart, Hyunjin turns around his feet and heads for the stairs, bumping into a person and knocking things down.

"Oh no! The eggs!" You sadly mumble as you pick up the plastic bag from the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Hyunjin mutters without thinking.

Without having to check, Hyunjin is pretty sure that he broke all the eggs as the content filled the plastic bag.

You don't even look surprised to see him, annoyed is more like it. Everything that Hyunjin has planned to say evaporated from his head. He bursts out anything that crosses his head at that moment.

"Why aren't you home?"

You look inside the plastic bag once again and sigh, "I was out to buy eggs and milk for breakfast tomorrow."

"I've been knocking at your door for an hour!"

You jerk your head back, unamused, "And I can't have eggs for my breakfast tomorrow because of you!" You scold back.

"Well, you still have the milk," he nonchalantly says then shrugs.

Hyunjin is aware of how he keeps talking without thinking and just saying everything he wants, he looks at you and you look back at him.

At the same time, you break into laughter. The hilarity lasts as long as each of you keeps breaking into another series of laughter.

When the laughs died down, he clears his throat and says, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" You ask.

"For the eggs."

"Anything else?" You ask with an eyebrow raised higher than the other.

"For coming here just now," he adds.

You nod and warmly smile at him, "Want to come in?"

Hyunjin definitely wants to come in and hopefully, will never leave.

-

While you're busy disposing of your broken eggs into the bin, Hyunjin walks around your new apartment and looks at each photo on the wall.

Places, sceneries, and moments captured in pictures. Looking at them, Hyunjin feels like he's looking at the world through your eyes.

"Here," you hand him a can of soda.

"These are beautiful," he compliments the photos on the wall.

"Thank you," you shortly reply.

Hyunjin opens it and takes a long gulp of it before putting it down on your desk. That's when he sees it.

"I'm offended by how you treat my token of love for you," he says.

You look around and see what he called a token of love on your desk. You guess it's the guitar pick inside the small tray full of memory cards.

You pick it up and show it to him, "this is a token of love?"

"It's my first guitar pick I used for the tour, it's meaningful, it's a token of love," he explains.

The only thing it reminds you of is how he flicked this thing at your head at the first concert, "you threw it at my head," you say with eyes widened.

"You're supposed to catch it!"

"How do I know that you want me to catch it?" You argue back.

He tips his head to the side and glares at you, "That's me telling you I like you!"

"Hyunjin, that's not how you give someone a token of love," you tell him with a snide smile.

He puts a hand on the desk to support him, "I thought you'd get it," he meekly says.

You come up to him and also put your hand on the desk, "Now you know why I thought you hated me, huh?"

It all makes sense now. He realizes he has a very unusual way to show his affection. Hyunjin sheepishly laughs and slips his hand under your arm, "Can we... hmm..."

He laughs again the moment he looks at your slyly smiling at him. Pulling you close, he asks, "Can we skip this embarrassing part and goes straight to making up then we can kiss after?"

Just having a whiff of his scent gets you intoxicated already, putting you under his spell, making you submit to his wishes, and those lips are just... incredibly tempting.

You notice that he's looking down at your lips too.

"Why don't we kiss already?" You offer a better idea.

With your permission, he doesn't waste another second to lean in and kisses you, so softly at first, and turns hungrier after a few kisses.

He still likes biting at your lower lip before pulling away, tugging it between his teeth, and making you moan as he kisses you whole, taking your breath away.

"I miss you so much," he murmurs close to your ear.

You turn your head to look at him but he captures you in a rapturous kiss, making you giggle against his lips.

"I miss you too," you murmur back the second he lets go of the kiss.

Using your finger, you trail the frame of his small, beautiful face. You admire the facial features that you believe are meticulously sculpted by God himself.

You look into his eyes as he looks back at you as if your eyes hold the universe in them, "I miss you too much."

Hyunjin sits on the edge of the desk so he can be at the same eye level as you and pulls you close, that way he can stare into your eyes and dives into them, never to come out of the surface.

"Let's do this, yeah?"

The hands that are resting on your waist, he glides them up until they are wrapped around your neck, cupping your face with both hands, he places a soft kiss on your lips.

"I think we can do anything if we're together," he says, resting his forehead against yours, "don't you think?"

Something about him that always makes you believe that you're worth more than you think, makes you believe that you can fly higher with your little wings and ride in the wind.

You open your mouth to say your answer, but he uses the opportunity to kiss your open mouth.

"I'll not take no for an answer," he mutters as his sweet smile puts you under the spell again.

You stare into his eyes, seeking the answer from his spellbinding eyes. All you have to do is put your trust in this relationship.

Just like Hyunjin said, no one has a say in this relationship, he trusts you therefore you only have to trust him back.

You nod, "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A smile blooms on Hyunjin's face, he expressed his happiness by giving you a long, lingering kiss, one of many more kisses to come. A token of love that lasts time and age. Miraculously, his kisses always leave you wanting more and more.

His body calls to your answer as he hoists you up against his body, lifting your legs and hooking them around his waist.

"You don't want to carry me to the bedroom," you mutter against his lips.

"Huh? Why?"

"It's upstairs."

He raises his eyebrow at you, "you think I'm not strong enough to carry you there?"

You didn't mean to stroke his ego but it's amusing to see his flabbergasted face.

"Okay then, tough guy. Take me there!" You dare him.

"Hang on tight then!" He warns you.

Putting your hands around his neck, you watch over his shoulder as he takes the stairs one step at a time. The veins on his neck are bulging through his milky skin as he uses all of his strength to climb the rest of the stairs.

"Almost there!" You tease by whispering into his ear.

Without warning, he spins you around once he arrives in your bedroom, and keeps spinning until your body hits the mattress.

You're still laughing as he places his body on top of you, putting the stray hair covering your face to the side.

He places sweet little kisses all over your face and tenderly kisses your closed eyelids before putting his lips on yours again. His hand is busy undressing you, seamlessly removing each piece of clothing without taking his lips off of you.

He whimpers as he freely roams his hand around your body, "I almost forgot how soft you are," he dreamily sighs.

You roll over on the bed and have him under you, hovering above him as your hand is working open the buttons of his shirt. You don't know how he undressed you without looking, it's certainly not easy.

You part it open after successfully unbuttoning his shirt, touching and trailing his taut muscles with your fingertips.

Hyunjin snakes his hand around and under you, tracing the curve of your rear, kneading on the flesh with his fingers teasing the fabric of your underwear.

Before you can say anything he crashes his lips at you again, kissing you harder and deeper with teeth and tongues clashing in your mouth.

With his lips glistening wet and red, words falling out of it like a waterfall.

"I love you," he softly mutters.

It's a liberating feeling to know that you don't have to hide, not have to worry about people coming, knocking at your door, and interrupting you. Other than that, you're no longer shackled by the fear of being seen with him.

With that, you slowly let go of all your worries and insecurities that stopping you from enjoying the moment. From now on, you allow yourself to have him and him to have you, wholly and completely, with all of your heart.

"I love you too," you mutter back.

That being said, you also letting go of the fears around you and replacing them with excitement about your future together.

-

It's so dangerous.

When Hyunjin thinks that you're the cutest when you're shy around him, that's because he hasn't you being bold and confident.

Your hand moves down to undo the button of his jeans and it's only a matter of time now, he gets to feel your hand wrapped around his length.

Bet you know how much he wanted you right now as you slowly pull it out of its confine and slowly stroke it.

What are you trying to do? He wonders.

You hover above him and kiss him deep that he has a hard time catching up with it, losing the air in his lungs and gasping for air the moment you let go. With your face merely inches away from him, you shot him a sly, seductive smile as if telling him what's coming for him and he wonders...

You start making a long trail of kisses down his body, neck, chest, ribs, stomach, and abdomen. He knows where are you heading next and he's not going to stop you despite his heart beating so fast at an abnormal rate.

The hair that sweeps his skin, tickles him, sending tingles inside and down there. It's nothing compares to when you slowly take his length in your mouth, little by little.

Propping an elbow against the mattress, Hyunjin looks at how your lips wrapped around his cock and uses a hand to compensate for the rest that you can't take.

"Oh fu—" he stops himself from cursing and reaches for your head, tangling his hand in your hair.

Mesmerized by watching you, he snaps out of his daze when you pull away and ask, "Good?"

Hyunjin, unable to provide a verbal answer, awkwardly nods.

You pull his jeans down his legs while Hyunjin shakes his shirt hanging on his shoulders, and tosses it away. Shifts his attention back to you, snaking his hand to your back to unclasp your bra and take it off of you.

Can't help himself, he buries his head in your neck, placing kisses down to your chest with his hand cupping your breast.

Drunk with the scent of your body, using both hands, he uses them to pull your underwear down your legs and gets it out of the way so he can put his hand to feel that delicate flesh under his touch.

Hyunjin thinks about you a lot, asleep or awake. However, the reality is always out of his expectations, in the best way. Sitting on the bed with you with both your hands stimulating each other at the same time. Nothing can be sexier than this.

Hyunjin was too haste to say that because the next thing you say is the sexiest thing he ever heard.

"Can I do what I want with you?"

That gets him slightly terrified but mostly excited, he doesn't know what you're going to do with him but he knows that it's going to be a thrill ride. He nods without even thinking.

Putting your hand on his chest, you lay him down on the bed and put your body on top, kissing him, making him forget the excitement that drives him almost crazy.

The next thing he knows you're rubbing up your wetness on his erect shaft, pulsating with desire.

Before his senses slip further away from him, he calls for you, "Baby?"

"Yeah?"

"Condoms?" He reminds you.

You give him a quick peck on the lips, "do you mind if we're doing it without?"

Hyunjin needs time to process it so that he doesn't say anything for a good minute.

You kiss his open mouth, "why are you so tense?"

"I-is it okay with you?" He stammers.

"That's why I asked."

"I don't want to pressure you to do things you don't want."

You subtly roll your eyes at him, "I initiated it. What makes you think that I don't want to do this?"

This is not what he expects to happen, bickering in the middle of sex. The second your eyes meet, you collapse onto his body and chuckle into his chest.

"We don't match well," Hyunjin mumbles.

"Well, we hated each other from the first time we met," you say.

He lifts your head and glares at you, "Huh? I never hated you."

You pout and shrug, "But it showed."

Hyunjin lets out a dramatic sigh out loud, "Yeah, well, what do you even know?"

You smile as you land a kiss on his lips, "what do you even know?" You repeat.

It's dangerous seeing you taking over his body, pleasing him by moving your hips back and forth and he gets to watch while comfortably lying on his back.

Yeah, it's cute to see you keep avoiding his eyes during sex but it's a whole different thing when you fiercely look down at him, then into his eyes while continuously moving.

Hyunjin almost forgot that he can still use his hands to admire your body, holding your breasts as they move along with every movement you make.

"Good?" You ask as you change your move and slowly roll your hips in circular motions.

Hyunjin's eyes are fluttering shut, overwhelmed.

"Too good, baby," he breathlessly replies.

He glides his hand to touch your lips only for you to suck on his thumb which reminds him of what your mouth feels like around his cock.

"Too good," he says again.

He brushes your hair to the side and looks at your pretty face, "you should stop staring at me with those eyes?"

That only sends you lean in close and stare deeply into your eyes, "or what?"

He groans as he feels you clenching around him and you enjoy doing it to him from that sly smile on your face.

"I'm going to cum too fast," he admits, he's been holding it for far too long now. It's actually a surprise that he didn't cum the moment he fully entered you.

"So what's the problem with that?" You simply ask.

Hyunjin doesn't want to cum before you, that's the problem.

You put your hand against the mattress and caress his face, "you don't want to cum inside me?" you boldly ask with an innocent pout on your face.

A stifled moan escapes his mouth as you grab the headboard of the bed for support and pick up the pace of your movements, driving him to his limit.

Hyunjin can't stop himself from grunting from under you, his nails dug into your flesh as he gripped your waist. His eyes screwed shut and his grunts turned into breathless whimpers then...

You slow down the pace knowing that he just climaxing but keep moving nonetheless, lowly moaning feeling his cock twitching inside you.

The moment he opens his eyes, you are looking at him with a smile on your face, "Hi, baby," you softly speak as if you didn't just make him cum inside you.

"Hi," he weakly says back, bringing your face close to kiss you.

Slowly, he pulls you to lay next to him on the bed to cuddle you and kisses you more. He places more kisses on any skin he can put his lips on and you let him have it.

As he lays there with you next to him, basking in love and bliss, he wonders if is it okay for him to feel this much.

The only thing Hyunjin knows for certain is who he should thank.

-

The coffee machine has started pouring coffee into the pot when you hear Hyunjin calling for you from upstairs.

He's not going to stop unless you come and show yourself to him. Half running to your bedroom, you find him still laying on the bed with his upper body exposed, basking in the warm morning sun.

"I was making coffee," you tell him as you walk to the bed and crawl over to him.

"Who needs coffee when I have you?" He wraps his hands around you and holds you close.

Without warning, he turns you over on the bed and pinned you under him, intensely gazing into your eyes with his warm brown eyes.

"Now that we're together, I was hoping I get to finally wake up next to you," he says.

You rest your hand on the back of his neck, raking his dark locks with your fingers, "we did."

"No, I woke up to an empty bed," he corrects you.

The way he sulks is adorable, his lower lip jutting out and a crease formed between his eyebrows. You don't think he would be fussing this much about waking up alone when he knows he's staying over at your place.

As an apology, you softly kiss him on the lips, "I'm sorry."

He smiles after hearing your apology, "Apology accepted."

"Already?"

He nods.

"Then we should go downstairs. The coffee is ready," you tell him.

He stops you from trying to get up and takes both of your hands to pin them above your head. Shaking his head, he says, "Not yet."

You sense mischief and you can see it in his eyes, filled with wild glints. You can't do much with him pinning your hands against the mattress.

Hyunjin kisses you, hard and deep, his tongue invades your mouth with teeth faintly biting on your lips.

A moan spills out of you as he starts gently kissing, sucking the skin on your neck. There's no need to guess, it's obvious that he wants to return the favor to you.

With the knowledge that you know what he can do with every part of his body and puts it to good use, you lay back and let him please you as he wants.

Hyunjin puts the duvet away, exposing both of your bodies to the sunlight flooding the room as the day gets brighter. His skin is glowing and warm, he's scintillating like the sun itself.

The way he slowly thrusts into you without looking away from your eyes, not even for a second feels like it's not just physical pursuit.

"Look at you," he says.

He cups your jaw in one hand, "You dare to look back at me now."

That makes you aware that you've been staring back into his eyes and instantly looking away from him. Hyunjin chuckles as he kisses your cheek.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispers into your ear.

You hook your legs around him, sending him deeper into you.

"But last night... oh..." he sighs as he hastily kisses your neck.

"You fuck me so good last night I don't think I'll ever forget it," he adds.

With those beautiful lips, he can say provocative words and makes them sound like poems, making you extremely aroused and deeply in love at once.

Sending you close to your high that you gripping his shoulders from the sensation that keeps building up.

"Close, mmh?" His lips brush yours as he speaks.

You nod with your eyes closed.

"Cum whenever you want, beautiful," he murmurs before planting his lips on yours again.

His lips which keep latching on yours, contained your loud moans as you get your release. The knot inside you tightens and loosens, waves of pleasure washing over you again and again.

With your eyes still closed, you search for his lips to kiss and when you finally did, you say, "Thanks to you, we can't have eggs for breakfast."

"Are holding a grudge against me?" Hyunjin asks in disbelief.

Sadly, this heavenly moment has to eventually end. You have a job to do and Hyunjin has to go back for a soundcheck, Vin has been calling him non-stop since he gets into the bathroom to shower.

"You'll come, right?" He asks as he walks around the room, picking up his clothes from the floor and putting them on.

"I don't know how long I'll be working," you honestly tell him.

He stops moving and sulks again, "You have to come!"

You softly laugh and sip your coffee before answering, "I may be late but I'll come, yes."

It's all he wants, he wants you to come no matter what but that's what you can promise him. His phone is buzzing again and you see that it's Lou.

You pick it up for him, "yes, he's putting on his shirt right now."

Lou laughs hearing your voice, "Hope the bed is alright."

"It's alright. I just have to wash the sheet," you jokingly say.

"Ugh!" He groans in disgust.

"Tell him I'm waiting outside," Lou adds.

"Okay, I'll tell him," you confirm and hang up the phone.

Hyunjin knows even before you say anything, but still, you tell him, "Lou is waiting."

You head downstairs, finishing your cup of coffee right on time as Hyunjin lands on the base of the stairs. You come running to hug him and he catches you on time.

"I'll be waiting for you," he says, pecking your lips after.

"I'll be late," you remind him again.

"That's okay," he says.

He kisses your lips again and not letting go until you're running out of breath.

"But know that I'll be waiting for you," he says with a playful glare.

You laugh and kiss him back, "Don't make Lou wait too long!"

With another long kiss on the lips and the last one on the top of your head, Hyunjin finally lets go with a smile on his face. And as much as you are reluctant to do the same, you slowly let him go, selflessly sharing him with the rest of the world.

-

The first thing Hyunjin hears by the time he steps into the green room is Han's whistle, eyes squinting at him with a malicious smile drawn on his face.

"Ooo... look at that glow on you, Hwang Hyunjin!" Han teases.

Hyunjin hates it when someone calls him by his full name and Han uses it exactly to annoy him. He picks up a towel from a stack provided on the desk and throws it at him.

"Shut up!"

That only amuses Han more as he's laughing on the sofa. Ignoring him, Hyunjin comes up to Felix who's having his lunch by himself.

Hyunjin picks a pack of lunch for him and sits next to him.

"She's coming tonight, right?" Felix asks.

Hyunjin puts down his chopsticks next to his lunch, "yes, but she has to do a job first so she'll be late," he explains.

Felix nods and continues eating, holding his phone in one hand as he scrolls down his social media.

There's something that should be said in this moment and Hyunjin knows what to say but doesn't know how to begin.

"Felix?"

He turns his head at him, "Yeah?"

Hyunjin scratches the back of his head, "I... uh... we're thankful that—"

Felix's deep laughter startles him, "Why thanking me? You're the one who successfully got her back."

That confuses Hyunjin too but he knows for sure that he has to thank Felix for encouraging him to fight for you.

Felix takes a sip of his water and swallows it, "I'm happy seeing my friends happy. That's enough for me."

Hyunjin scoffs and not in a sarcastic way. It just baffled him how there's someone as kindhearted as Felix existed in this world. When he thinks that Felix has done speaking, he turns at Hyunjin again, "But Hyunjin..."

"Yes?"

"If you ever had a change of heart," he says as he gazes into his eyes, "just kindly tell her."

Hyunjin nods.

"Don't hurt her," Felix finishes.

Hyunjin knows that behind that tender gaze, he's warning him that he's ready to go against him if he ever caught him breaking your heart.

Hyunjin thinks that you're lucky to have a friend like him which reminds him that he's just as lucky to have a precious friend. That inexplicably urges Hyunjin to protect him more because a person like Felix belongs in a fairytale, not in this cruel, cruel world.

-

"Come on! Come on!"

Lou hurries you to run and get to his pace as he leads the way to the stage. You're late and Lou can't leave his post too long, he's risking his job as we speak.

Learned from experience, you're slowing down when it comes to climbing the stairs in the dark since Lou doesn't have time to turn on the flashlight on his phone.

The band is in the middle of playing the song when you finally take the spot on the side of the stage and exchange a quick hug with Vin to finally enjoy the show.

It's certainly nostalgic to be there. A few things changed but some remain the same. It's bittersweet but you only want to focus on the latter part.

It's when the band finished the song, Hyunjin sees that you're here. He looks rather elated to see you, he wants to come but hesitates to do so.

You wave your hand at him instead and mouthed, "Told you I'm coming."

He foolishly smiles and eventually caves in, walking to the side of the stage, handing Lou his guitar before grabbing you by the waist and kissing you.

"Hi, you," he mutters.

"Hi," you say back then gets cut off as he kisses you again.

Lou, in an annoyed tone, says, "Okay, lovebird, time to get back to the stage."

You gently push him away as the band is about to play another song.

Hyunjin grabs his guitar back from Lou and slung the strap around his shoulder, "I love you," he mouthed.

You cup your hands around your mouth and mouth it back to him, "I love you."

Oblivious to the fact that Lou is witnessing everything and looking disgusted, horrified, not amused. You respond with what he always gives you, a nonchalant shrug.

Turn your attention elsewhere, you wave your hand at Felix as he's passionately drumming, busy using both hands and feet to keep the rhythm going.

"Felix, the greatest drummer in the world!" You shout at him, sending him grinning and almost losing his focus.

For the last song, Lou puts his arm around you to dance and jump together, ignoring your lungs burning from running out of air.

You cheer loudly as the band takes their final bow at the end of the show and gets ready to welcome them at the back of the stage.

A grin rises on your face at the sight of Felix, you come up to him and give him the hug when it's usually his job to do so.

"Why are you so cool, huh?" you aggressively ask while patting his back.

You keep hugging him, long enough until it emptied the emotions in your chest, "I am so proud of you!" You sincerely tell him.

He kisses your cheek, "Thank you, babe!"

Aware that someone else is waiting for his turn to hug you, Felix reluctantly lets you go. You see Hyunjin appears behind him, ignoring the exhaustion and sweat rolling down his face, he's slipping his hands under and holding you close.

"You're not going to say anything nice to me?" He asks.

You pretend to think and stalls from answering, "Uhm... no," you joke.

With his hand on the back of your head, he angles your head to kiss you again, deeper than before.

"You taste salty," you comment.

He looks down at his t-shirt soaked in sweat but instead of pulling away, he pulls your hands tighter around him, leaving you no option but to let his sweat seep into your clothes as well.

Hyunjin leans in to kiss you but someone holds him back from doing it, "It's my turn now," Han says.

Han looks at you, "I'm getting a kiss too, right?"

Hyunjin pushes him away and possessively puts his arm around you, "Not a chance!"

However Hyunjin can't linger around you for long and you sneak a kiss on Han's cheek when he's not looking, "There you go!"

Han is looking taken aback by the kiss as he touches his cheek, wide eyes and dazed.

Hyunjin turns around to take your hand, "Come, baby!"

You look over your shoulder at Han and gesture to him to zip his lips, keeping it a secret between you two.

Han confirmed with a wink shot at you.

You look down at your clasped hands and then at him as he brushes all of his hair to the back, "Hyunjin?"

He pulls you close to his side, "yes?"

"Does it mean I can have you for myself again?" You ask.

He smiles hearing that and nods, "I'm all yours now."

-

Felix may have not gotten his love but he surely gets his happiness, double, triple even.

He's happy to see you happy, to still have this precious friendship with you, and remains best of friends. A friend that he can always call in both good times and bad times. A friend he can freely be himself and not be afraid of being judged.

And as he looks at you sitting with Hyunjin, whispering words to each other, looking so in love and happy. He's happy about that too.

Happy that both of his friends found love and are happy with each other and he wishes it stays like that for a long, long time.

At last, Felix is happy for his band, especially after successfully finishing the tour. In this after-party, he can see that this happiness belongs to everyone who takes part in making each show happen.

It's happiness after happiness after happiness. His heart is overflowing with nothing but happiness.

What everyone doesn't know is that behind that happiness, there's that drop of pain.

Felix still needs time to finally let go of his love, it's not easy considering that his object of affection is always around him.

Even a drop, it still stings and constantly prickles at his heart.

Felix consoles himself with a glass of drink in his hand as he looks at the night sky, he likes to think that the crescent shape is the moon smiling down at him.

"What are you doing out here alone?" Lou asks, shattering the intimate moment Felix is having with the moon.

Felix sheepishly smiles, "nothing. Just drinking," he says, showing him the lukewarm whiskey in his glass.

Lou nods and stands next to him, also looking up at the night sky and looking at the same moon. A gust of cold wind blowing his way but Felix wants to stay here longer.

"It'll pass," Lou suddenly says.

That makes Felix's head turn, "Pardon?"

Lou looks at him and says it again, firmly this time.

"It'll pass."

Felix doesn't know he needed to hear it until he did and that inexplicably rejuvenated his spirit. An ending is an opportunity for another beginning.

"You're right," Felix agrees.

"Of course I'm right," Lou boldly remarks, holding out his drink at him.

Felix clinked his glass together with him for a toast, feeling eager to begin again.

As for Lou, he's finally standing right in front of him for the first time, seeing him eye to eye, perhaps, Felix can see him now and knows that he's been there all along.

-

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[juniperskye]

Bangin’

Summary: I’m back with more hair stylist reader!!!  Eddie finally graduated from Hawkins High and moved to New York City. There was definitely a culture shock, but he was finding it easier to fit in there than back in Hawkins. The one thing he was having trouble with however, was his hair management. His neighbor in the trailer park, Ms. Sweeny, used to cut his hair for him, but now living in a new city…he needed to find a good salon. The events of season 4 did not happen.

Eddie Munson x Hair Stylist (Fem)Reader (she’s kind of sunshiny emo lol also she’s described to have colored hair, tattoos, and piercings)

Fluff

Word count: 977

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, no use of y/n, half assed salon info, let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Eddie let out a huff of air in attempt to blow his bangs out of his eyes. His hair had been pulled back into a low messy bun, to keep it out of his face while he moved stage equipment for tonight’s show.

He had moved to New York six months ago after finally graduating from Hawkins High. The big move hadn’t come as a surprise to his friends back home, they all knew that Eddie was destined for greatness. The day he left, he made a promise to Garreth, Jeff and Grant, letting them know that the band wasn’t dead, and he’d be waiting for them to join him in the city when they graduated. That same day, Wayne handed Eddie an envelope, letting him know he had been saving it to ensure Eddie could get by until he had a steady job.

Wayne had pulled Eddie into a tight embrace and they both sniffed, ensuring to keep themselves composed. Refusing to shed any tears. They had separated, shared a curt nod and then Eddie got in his van and drove off.

New York had been everything he had dreamed of, the hustle and bustle of the city was far more his speed than that of suburban Hawkins. He had gotten a job at this bar; it was a few blocks away from his apartment and they had needed someone to bartend and help out with the bands that played there. Eddie had jumped at the opportunity, and he had mentioned his band upon his employment.

The owner of the bar had told Eddie to get him a demo tape and that he would decide if they would play there. He’d been overjoyed when the manager expressed interest after hearing the tape, telling Eddie that as soon as his friends got to NYC they’d have a place to play.

But that was still a few months off. Until then, Eddie would have to make himself useful at the bar. Which is how he currently found himself setting up amps on the stage for tonight’s show. The bar was pretty warm, heating had kicked on to combat the chill from outside. Which is exactly why Eddie had pulled his hair into a lazy bun, only now it wasn’t the heat that was getting to him, but his unruly curls that framed his face.

“Hey man, once the stage is set, you’re good to go for the night. I appreciate you coming in on your day off to help.” Carol, the bar manager, informed Eddie.

“Thanks Carol!” Eddie said, blowing his bangs out of his face once more.

“Cutting Edge.” Carol said.

“What?” Eddie questioned.

“Cutting Edge, it’s a salon over on Bleecker. The hairstylist there can fix up those bangs.” Carol informed as she walked to the back office.

“Hey, thanks!” Eddie called after her.

Once the stage was all set up, Eddie grabbed his stuff and made his way over to Bleecker. He walked past an assortment of restaurants, shops, barbers, until he found your salon. Tucked between Joe’s pizza and The Paw Spa was a tiny salon, on the front window painted in clean white letters were the words “Cutting Edge” with a pair of scissors painted below.

As Eddie entered, a small bell rang out from above the door. He looked over to see two hair cutting stations and two shampoo stations, there was a narrow hallway that seemingly led back to additional space. The salon was designed using mostly black and white accents, checkered floors, bright walls, polaroids lined the wall behind the front desk. In the pictures, Eddie took note of the incredible haircuts and colors that the patrons in the images wore.

“I’ll be right with you hon.” Your warm voice called out over the buzzing of the clippers.

“No rush, thank you.” Eddie replied.

He watched as you faded the sides of this guy’s haircut. The top had been longer, curly and blue, but you had brought the sides in with a perfectly blended fade. As you turned the chair Eddie noticed the design you had lined in his hair. He was in awe of how meticulous you had been in your work.

That is when his gaze shifted to you. You took his breath away, with your black and pink hair, your septum piercing and the tattoos that littered your exposed arms.

“Alright Theo, your total today is, $15. Thank you so much for coming in!” You greeted.

“Thank you! The cut is great, and the color has been holding up well. I’ll call you to schedule a root touch up soon.” Theo suggested before making his leave.

“How can I help you?” You greeted Eddie, finally noticing how handsome he is.

“I uh, I just need a trim. My hair is in my eyes all the time and it’s driving me insane.” Eddie explained,

“Absolutely! Come on back and have a seat.” You gestured to your station.

Eddie sat and you asked him a few questions to gauge how short he wanted his hair. You had inquired about the last time he had a trim and what his current haircare routine was. Once you’d started cutting his hair, he’d been able to ask you a few questions. He’d asked about your taste in music, how long you had been in New York, and how you got into hair.

By then you were done with his hair, and he couldn’t help but feel saddened by the fact that it was over. He wanted to keep talking to you, it had been so easy, he didn’t want it to end.

“Are you done for the evening?” Eddie inquired.

“I am, I just have to close up.” You explained.

“Would you want to come see this band at the bar I work at?” Eddie offered.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

[writtenonreceipts]

Rowaelin Month Day Six: Misunderstanding Leading to Disaster @rowaelinscourt

Month Masterlist // Hey, Neighbor Masterlist // AO3

a/n: blargh.

Warnings: just me trying to write. ~2.6k words

Hey, Regret

As January slowly slogged on, Aelin tried her best to return to the normal swing of things.  It should have been easy considering work was picking up pace and she’d been spending more time with her friends, not to mention keeping Fleetfoot thoroughly entertained so the poor pup wouldn’t be bored out of her mind.  Yet, as always happened around this time of year, Aelin felt discontent. 

She chalked it up to seasonal depression, vowing for a vacation once winter wound down.  Perhaps not the healthiest way to manage her mental health, but it was the easiest explanation and answer.

Despite it all, there was one thing on her mind that she wasn't sure how to accommodate. And that was her growing attraction to Rowan. She wasn't sure exactly when it had begun. Maybe somewhere along the way after he'd taken her rock climbing or the incident at her parent’s party…but it had grown to something she didn’t know how to deal with herself.  And she didn't even know if the feelings were reciprocated.

It was enough to make her avoid him. She'd been on the receiving end of misplaced affection before and knew how uncomfortable it made her feel and she couldn't wouldn't let Rowan feel the same.

But she still wanted to make sure Rowan knew she appreciated him and what he'd done for her. Over the last several months it had felt like all she'd done was nag and bother and make demands on him.  All she wanted was to show him that she really was grateful for everything.

So, she did what she did best and made a batch of cookies to take down to the firehouse. He only did Search and Rescue with the occasional ranger work but the firehouse was located at the base of the mountain and served as a good base for all the emergency responders in the area.  And since it was mostly where he did his paperwork, it would be the easiest place to find him on a work day.

When she headed out to her car, a strong wind swept through the parking lot.  Another storm was brewing.  If that wind didn’t indicate it, Aelin could practically smell it in the air.  It was different from the scent of rain—not metallic and earthy, but clean and sharp.  Not everyone could sense the difference, especially if you weren’t from Terrasen.  But having spent her entire life here, not even leaving for school—Aelin knew the difference.  And it smelled like snow, a storm, a threat.

It had been a harsh winter given the snow levels, the winds, and more than one avalanche threat.  That knowledge alone caused a shiver to roll down her spine.  The city was due for something to bring everything to a halt which only amped up her sense of unrest.

Aelin shoved it aside as she pulled onto the main road and headed to the firehouse.

She’d thought about bringing Elide with her.  Her friend could offer a miraculous amount of moral support even if she hated people herself.  Unfortunately for Aelin, Elide had parent-teacher conferences all morning.

It was fine.  She knew how to talk to people.  She knew how to talk to Rowan.

By the time she rolled up to the station, thick raindrops splattered against her windshield.  It wouldn’t surprise her if they’d turn to snowflakes within the hour.  She parked and jumped out of the car, grabbing the Tupperware of cookies.

The firehouse had undergone a few different remodels, nothing expansive.  It was clear enough that they were still under budget, what with the peeling siding and moss encroaching along the windows.  But it was clean and it functioned well enough.  Aelin had never actually been inside it.  Maybe once back when she’d been in elementary school.  It had always come across as something off-limits.

As it was, she felt out of place when she walked through the main door.  It was a strange feeling creeping through her, one she didn’t like.  Never had she felt this way.  She was always self-assured and confident that nothing shook her.  Except this, apparently.

“Can I—Well, look who it is.” The voice caught Aelin off-guard and she paused, trying to pinpoint where it had come from.

She finally glanced up to see the man standing in a lofted section of the firehouse.  He leaned against the glass railing looking down at her, blond curls falling to his shoulders and an impish grin alight on his features.  It was one of Rowan’s squad mates that she’d met briefly so many weeks ago.

“Hi,” she said, raising a hand in greeting.

The man was already heading down the stairs to meet her.  Dressed in a navy-blue uniform, crisply pressed and adorned with a few patches and a nametag, he looked smart and well put together.  She’d forgotten it was some unspoken rule for all emergency responders to be ridiculously attractive.  

“Fenrys, right?” she asked as he approached.  He wasn’t quite as tall or big as Rowan, but he was still a wall of muscle.

Cracking a charming grin that boasted a dimple in one cheek, he spread his arms. “The one and only.”

So, he was a flirt.  Aelin could go with that.

“I’m Aelin,” she began, deciding it best to just word vomit away her anxiety.

“Rowan’s neighbor,” Fenrys finished for her. “I remember.  We met on poker night.”

“Did you win?” she asked, “I seem to recall there were some questions about how skilled you actually are.”

Fenrys flashed a devastating smile that once might have had Aelin leaning closer, flashing a smile of her own. Once…she didn’t quite know or understand what was stopping her now.  But now as she stood there with a ridiculously attractive man (in uniform) standing before her, Aelin couldn’t bring it out of her to rise to the bait.  To flirt.  And Aelin loved flirting.  She loved the chase or it all, having fun.  And now…

“Oh, I’m actually quite capable,” Fenrys assured her, that gleam in his eyes still burning.

“Moonbeam!” The shout came from deeper in the station.

Coming from around the back of one of the trucks was Rowan.  He too wore his uniform blues, like Fenrys it only had a nametag and patch of the firehouse sigil.  The fabric of the shirt was tight over his broad shoulders and back.  His silver hair had grown out a little since Aelin had cut it.  Now, it had been styled carefully out of his face, even now a few strands hung down over his forehead.  

Aelin’s fingers tightened around the Tupperware of cookies on instinct.  It only just occurred to her how stupid it was to bring cookies by.  When had she seen Rowan Whitethorn willingly eat sugar?  She knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t a candy or sweets or cookie guy.  Hell in a handbasket.  

“Aelin?” Rowan came to a stop, still several yards away, looking more confused than she’d ever seen him.  It would have been amusing if she herself weren’t just as confused over her own actions.

“Hi.”  She raised the Tupperware in a salute because she was an absolute fool.  “I brought some cookies.”

“And she bakes,” Fenrys said with a low whistle. He inched closer to Aelin, slowly reaching for the cookies. “You know, if you’re single—”

“Down, boy,” Aelin said.  She raised a brow giving him a significant look.  His grin only deepened.  Rolling her eyes, Aelin opened the Tupperware and offered him the cookies.

Rowan, finally seeming to collect himself, walked towards them.  He shot Fenrys a glare that the other man missed entirely.  Aelin held the cookies out.

“I wanted to say thanks for the other night,” she said, “so I brought a small offering.”

Rowan’s features didn’t soften any as he looked away from Fenrys to the Tupperware of chocolate chip cookies.  While she wasn’t the best cook or baker, Aelin did know how to make a mean batch of cookies.  But with the furrow in his brow and downturn of his lips, Rowan didn’t appear to be impressed.

“If he doesn’t eat them, I will,” Fenrys offered eagerly. 

Perhaps the younger man should have just kept quiet as Rowan dropped a hand roughly onto his shoulder and pulled back.

“Didn’t I hear you have an ambu to restock?” Rowan asked, his tone not at all inclining a suggestion.

Fenrys only grinned before snatching another cookie. “Easy old man, I’m going.  Nice talking to you Aelin.”

“Bye, Fenrys,” Aelin called after him as he loped away towards the ambulance on the far side of the station.  Her heart rate ratcheted up to an annoying speed when she turned back to Rowan.  Even scowling, he was too damned attractive.  “The cookies were really only for you.  Is he always like that?”

“A pain in my ass, sure.” Rowan still didn’t take the cookies and Aelin felt a rock form in her stomach.

“Cookies are all I know how to make,” Aelin said, over explaining as she always did. “And I figured even you couldn’t turn them down.  They’re chocolate chip.”

Finally, as though it utterly pained him, Rowan took the Tupperware.

“Thanks,” he said, his scowl softening only a little.

“A little sugar never hurt anyone,” Aelin replied.  She stuffed her hands into the pockets of her coat. “And I figured you’ve never had any sugar in your life, so these would be extra special.”

“Ha.”

Taking that as a victory, Aelin smiled. “Really, though, thanks for your help with Fleetfoot.  And I’m sorry about the mess I’m dragging you through with the pretend boyfriend and now your mom is in on it.”

Rowan waved away her words. “Don’t worry about it.”

But she would worry, especially when he had now reverted back to his cold exterior.  The person who barely tolerated her.  What had happened over the last few days to make it feel like he couldn’t stand her?

“I won’t keep you then,” Aelin said.  “It looks like a storm’s coming in, I’m sure you guys will be busy taking care of it.”

“Shouldn’t be too bad,” Rowan replied with a shrug. “So long as people are smart about their choices.”

“That’s putting a lot of faith in the human race,” she said, dryly.

Rowan’s lips twitched. “I forgot, some people choose to go careening down ravines for a tennis ball.”

“You try telling Fleetfoot we’re leaving her favorite toy behind, have you seen her eyes?” Aelin tried not to be offended.  Really, she did.

“You spoil that dog,” he said.

“I’m her mother, it’s my right.”

Rowan only shook his head. “Yeah, alright.”

Finally, Aelin could feel a little better about the situation and not so much like a fool for stopping by.  Barely.

“Enjoy the cookies,” Aelin said, angling herself to head back the way she came.  “And try to have at least on of them before passing them off on your mates, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rowan said.

He returned her wave and Aelin headed back to the station door, regretting the inevitable chill she would be faced with.

She was passing the ambulance when she saw Fenrys again.  He looked like he was going through inventory, just like Rowan had told him to do.  Several cases and bags of equipment were laid out on the end of the truck and he had a clipboard in hand as he went through everything.  He glanced up when he saw her, flashing a grin.

“It was good seeing you Aelin,” he said, “sorry for Rowan.  He’s always got a stick up his ass about something.”

“He’s not so bad,” she replied, unable to help the comment. “I’ve been neighbors with him a while now, I get it.”

“You know,” Fenrys said, leaning against the side of the ambulance, “you should come out tonight.  We’re headed to the Mistward Bar after shift.”

Aelin paused, wondering if she had heard him right. “Come out?”

“Sure, drinks, food, there’s even a band that plays on Fridays,” Fenrys said. “It’ll be fun.”

Since Sam, Aelin hadn’t tried talking to new people.  Hadn’t tried dating or going out.  Hell, it really had been a while since she’d done something fun like this.  A niggling thought in the back of her mind pushed her towards Rowan.  Rowan who she’d become somewhat friends with.  But, he’d had plenty of time to make a move, hadn’t he?  To not be so hot and cold, to actually appear more than a friend.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Aelin said, already feeling a bit of excitement over the night bloom in her chest.

Fenrys beamed at her. “See you tonight.”

Aelin smiled back.  That excitement already growing into something more than just a simple bloom.  She waved to Fenrys and headed back out into the snowy morning to her car.

.*.

“You what?” Rowan stared, slightly dumbfounded, at Fenrys as he grabbed an apple from the kitchen counter.

The station was, blessedly, quiet.  Not even the regular firefighters or paramedics were busy with calls or anything.  Everyone had just faded into a calm, no-nonsense afternoon.  Which was a miracle that he wouldn’t announce aloud.  The second you acknowledged the quiet, all hell broke loose.

“I invited her out to Mistward tonight,” Fenrys said with a shrug.  He leaned into the counter, resting his elbow on the marble. “What?  She’s hot.”

Rowan squeezed the apple in his hands so tight he was shocked when the entire thing didn’t burst apart like something out of a cartoon.  He was only slightly worried about his line of thinking.  Mostly, he was just irritated at Fenrys running his fat mouth.

“C’mon man,” he said.

“Oh, like you haven’t noticed.”  Fenrys guffawed and straightened.  He shook his head, golden curls falling around his face. “You’ve gone out with her a couple times, haven’t you?”

He had, but Rowan didn’t consider those actual dates.  Not really.  No matter how much he wanted those times to be seen as dates, it wasn’t a line he was willing to cross.  Not again.  The last time he’d misread a situation had led to him moving across the country and losing contact with his entire life.  He wasn’t going to start from scratch again.

“Are you trying to get with her?” Fenrys pressed when Rowan remained silent.

Even after knowing the other man for a few years, there were times that Rowan wanted to punch Fenrys in the face.  A few years younger with a big enough ego for the entire squad, Fenrys had taken some getting used to.  He was a capable ranger and rescuer, but he specialized in pushing other’s patience.

Like now.

Because Rowan didn’t want to think about a relationship with Aelin.  He couldn’t.  That would just be a long and painful road for the both of them and he wouldn’t do that to her.

“She’s not even your type,” Rowan said.  He knew the argument was weak.  Hell.  Arrogant, sarcastic, and flawlessly beautiful—Aelin was anyone’s type.  Yet just the sight of Aelin talking to Fenrys had been enough to piss Rowan off more than he’d been in a long time.

“What’d you know?” Fenrys asked. “Man, if you want a shot say so.”

“It doesn’t—” Rowan began, only he never got to finish the sentence.

From down below in the conference room, Gavriel rallied them for one of their scheduled training sessions.  Maybe it was better that way, Rowan had no idea what he’d say to Fenrys to begin with.  Because, truth be told, the kid was right.

He did want a shot with Aelin.  And that alone scared the shit out of him.

.*.*.*.*.*.

On track for 15 parts total.  I may try and just end it at 14 for all our sakes.

[kkpwnall]

for the kindest, darlingest, most effervescent sen @fragilecapric0rnn 💜 just a little something for you. i’m so proud and grateful to call us friends, you’re thoughtful and hilarious, and so willing to go to the mat for your friends. you’re a brilliant writer and the sweetest cheerleader. i hope you have an incredible day, and an even better year ahead of you, i’m so excited to see where life and writing and everything else takes you!! you deserve the whole world. love you lots <33

It might have been harder to say goodbye if it was a nicer day. If the sun was shining, and the leaves were changing, and a cool autumn breeze blew all around them. Instead Hawkins chewed them up and spit them out the other side like it had so many times before. The sky above them opened up just as they loaded the last of the boxes in the back of the small uhaul, leaving them soaked to the skin as they threw the last of their essentials and themselves into the cab. They left town shivering and laughing uncontrollably, middle fingers out the window. Ecstatic to finally get out of that hometown hell. 

It’s all worth it, driving thousands of miles across the country, towing the beamer behind them. It’s worth it trying to navigate the narrow streets of San Francisco and getting lost at least three times before they find their new apartment. It’s worth the hike uphill from the closest parking spot big enough for the truck, and up another three flights of stairs, when Eddie unlocks the door and gallantly bows him inside. Steve wanders from kitchen to bathroom to bedroom, imaging the bed here, a bookshelf there, the desk under this window. Eddie’s amps and instruments in that corner, Steve’s sport’s equipment in the hall closet near the door, easy to grab. Before coming back to the living room with its big bright windows and view of the bay. 

Tomorrow, their friends will come by to help them unload the truck and unpack, get paid in pizza and beer and belly laughs. In a few days, a few weeks, they’ll settle in, find the grocery store, find jobs. Learn the city and meet their neighbors. In six months, a year, two years, theirs will be the place to crash for anyone visiting, anyone who needs somewhere to stay, somewhere to go.

They’ll argue and make up and struggle, lose friends and jobs and find so much better. They’ll get bad haircuts and grow weird facial hair and make questionable fashion choices. They’ll stay up late crying over things they can’t change and things they can. They’ll celebrate the new year and birthdays and lives cut too short and new ones beginning. They’ll grow and change into people they wouldn’t recognize when they were younger. 

Tonight though, it’s just Steve and Eddie, finally someplace where the ground beneath them won’t open up and try to swallow them whole. Somewhere they can be together and not have to look over their shoulders all the time. Somewhere they can be themselves, be just Steve and just Eddie, and figure all the rest out without a world-ending apocalypse every year. Together.

All the frustration and stress and hoping and wishing and scraping by of the past three years, it’s all worth it when Eddie comes up behind him, wraps his arms around Steve’s waist and hooks his chin over his shoulder. Pulls him close and whispers, “welcome home, sweetheart.”

[corinthianism]

last kiss | sam winchester (5)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst warning(s): implied/referenced non-con

masterlist | previous chapter | ao3

CHAPTER FIVE: TEN SECONDS

You didn’t know where you were. You didn’t even know how much time has passed since Lucifer took you away. He stashed you in some house. It looked like a normal suburban home, except it seemed he used his amped-up archangel abilities to essentially create a whole pocket dimension for you. On a surface level, every day felt like a normal day. Night and day passed just the same as it would in the real world. You had neighbors, and they were both familiar and unfamiliar. “Dean” lived right across the street whilst “Bobby” and “Cas” lived right next to you. The other houses were occupied by random people you didn’t know. It was like a bad djinn hallucination.

The routine was always the same: wake up, eat, try to kill time, sleep, repeat. In the beginning, you thought you were just having a bad dream; that Dean, Bobby, and Cas were really there with you. However, when you tried talking to them, they were way too out of character. Dean acted like a stereotypical macho man with absolutely no personality whatsoever, Bobby’s parental instincts towards you were taken to new heights in an almost cartoony way, and Cas was a helpless imbecile.

Then there was Sam. Sam was the only one who acted like himself. You’d wake up next to him, eat meals with him. You did everything you normally did with him, except in this weird world, you weren’t hunters. It felt eerily similar to the dreams you’ve had before. 

He kissed you, touched you in ways the real him would never have the courage to do, but you refused to sleep with him. No matter how many times he tried to initiate it. He wasn’t real, and this was all wrong.

He would leave at exactly 9am everyday. Those first few days, you tried finding a way to escape. You tried talking to your “friends”. You tried hurting them. You tried pleading with Sam. When nothing else worked, you tried killing him. 

And he was dead. For a while. The very next day, you woke up next to him again, as if nothing happened. After that, you resigned to just doing whatever you could to not be present in the moment. You played the role of housewife, because there was nothing else you could do.

Until now.

You woke up again, expecting to see the same cream-colored walls and smell the same ever-present smell of lavender. Instead, you were in an unfamiliar room. 

The first thing that hit you was that it was rancid compared to what you were used to, as if somebody tried to hide the smell of a dead body with some berry-scented perfume. You turned around, and there was Sam. He donned a fully white suit, his hair uncharacteristically slicked back.

“You’ve been very impressive,” he winked at you, taking his hands out of his pockets to give you a mocking slow clap. This was Lucifer and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t find a trace of Sam. “For someone so in love with him, you did a bang-up job of… well, not banging him.”

You didn’t answer.

“Aww, come on now. Giving me the silent treatment?” he stepped forward. “What if I told you… he could still hear you if you talked to him? Not that he would be able to answer. Not unless I wanted him to, of course.”

That got your attention, and it gave you a boost of courage that had otherwise been taken from you. You ran towards him, grabbing him by the collar.

“Sam? Sam! Listen to me, if you’re in there, you’ve gotta fight it! Take back control, Sam!” you pleaded desperately, your last attempt in getting your best friend back.

His expression changed, and suddenly, he grabbed your shoulders. His body language and the cadence of his voice changed as well, and for a moment, all hope was not lost. It was as if the clouds parted to reveal the sun. This was your Sam.

“You’ve got to get out of here,” he pushed you away, looking around frantically for an exit for you to use. “You have to stay away from me, you have to—”

You took several steps back, turning around to grab the doorknob, only to find that the door was just part of the wallpaper, “What—”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” it echoed from behind you. You turned around slowly, and “Sam” was standing perfectly still and upright once again. “Naughty Sam. Naughty you.”

He approached you, stopping right in front of you before he looked you up and down like a predator assessing its prey.

“So, it’s just you and me now, princess,” he tilted your chin upward to have you look at him. “You know, I can see inside Sammy’s head, and my, my, my… the thoughts he has about you aren’t as innocent as you think they are.”

You scowled at him, even if it was unnatural for you to do such a thing to Sam. This wasn’t Sam anymore, you had to remember that.

“Remember… Jessica? Oh, I bet that one broke your heart. The love of your life going off to some fancy Ivy League and getting a pretty blonde… well, if it’s any consolation, he was always thinking of you. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason he could get off whenever he was inside her.”

He laughed, as if he said the funniest thing in the world. He traced hearts and random shapes on your cheek, his laughter dying down into a contented sigh. 

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun together,” he finally said, his hand sliding down to your neck, and then to the collar of your button-down plaid shirt. He unbuttoned it once, “Sammy’s screaming at me right now. It’s very annoying.”

He unbuttoned another one, “I don’t see why he’s not enjoying this more, honestly. After all, this is what he wanted. If anything, I’m doing him a favor.”

He leaned closer, and you desperately tried to slow down your breathing. Your heart was pounding, so much so that you were almost sure that Lucifer could hear it. You always wanted Sam, but not like this. Lucifer knew that, and so he would do exactly what he wanted. 

Lucifer, in a mission to ruin you forever, took more and more of your dignity with each button he removed. Finally, when your skin was on display for only him to see, a wide grin appeared on his face. Sam’s face.

“You’re never going to be the same after this,” he promised, and all you could do was hide somewhere in your mind where even the devil couldn’t find you.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Lucifer took you to a cemetery, whispering in your ear about how once Michael showed up, you were gonna see the greatest battle in history. Of course, Lucifer would win.

Ever since that night, you felt like a prisoner of your mind. It was both your safe place and your punishment. You tried to remind yourself that it wasn’t Sam; that it was Lucifer who stole your dignity. Sam would never… Sam could never hurt you the way Lucifer had.

Even in the presence of two archangels, you stayed silent, and accepted your fate. Half of the world was gonna burn to the ground when this was all over, and you just hoped that your death would be quick. You felt sick when Michael looked at you, something akin to both disgust and pity written all over his face.

Then, the familiar rev of Baby’s engine reached your ears. Your head shot up, seeing the Dean riding the Impala into the graveyard, right in front of Michael and Lucifer.

Dean got out of the car, his eyes immediately flickering over to you in worry, but he pressed forward and marched right up to the two archangels. 

“Hey, we need to talk.”

Lucifer scoffed, “Dean. Even for you, this is a whole new mountain of stupid.”

“I’m not talking to you. I’m talking to Sam.”

“You’re no longer the vessel, Dean. You got no right to be here.”

Dean turned to Michael, his voice filled with sincerity and regret, “Adam, if you’re in there somewhere, I’m so sorry.”

“Adam isn’t home right now.”

Castiel and Bobby arrived, with Cas throwing a can of holy fire at Michael to keep him at bay. This irked Lucifer, who then snapped his fingers. Cas exploded, leaving behind bits and pieces of blood and flesh.

“You know… I tried to be nice, for Sammy’s sake. But you are… such a pain in my ass,” he threw Dean against the windshield of the Impala.. Bobby shot at Lucifer’s back, prompting Lucifer to twist his hand. Bobby’s neck snapped.

Your eyes widened, two of the people you cared about was just murdered by Lucifer, and you’d be damned if you weren’t gonna do something about it. You ran towards Lucifer, trying to get him away from Dean. With a flick of his hand, you were thrown against a nearby tree. The impact was enough to knock you out for a few seconds, your vision falling in and out of darkness.

You laid motionless on top of the pile of dry, dead leaves, unable to do anything but watch. Lucifer got closer to Dean, grabbing him by the legs and then punching him.

“No!” was what you wanted to say, but nothing came out. You could feel a branch poking at the skin of your back.

Lucifer kept punching Dean, over and over until Dean’s face was barely recognizable.

Then something happened.

His fist was still raised in the air, and you could see the internal war raging inside him. His hands shook, and his grip on the collar of Dean’s shirt loosened. There was a glint in his eyes, one that told you whether or not the body you were talking to was Lucifer or Sam. You held your breath, eyes lasered in his face, not sure if the person in front of you was your Sam.

For him, it felt like time had stopped. There was no apocalypse. No Lucifer. No Michael, no nothing.

All he could see was the toy soldier stuck in the Impala’s ashtray. That was enough for him. The sight of the toy, the memories etched into the car, the image of his bloodied brother in front of him who, even then, was still unwilling to fight.

The memories didn’t hit him like an outside force, they came from him, blossomed from a place he forgot about. Locked in a treasure chest he kept in the deepest corners of his soul, where not even the devil could touch it. Clear as day, he relived every single one, and with each memory, the clearing grew wider. He could crawl out and push Lucifer back. 

He saw it all: the good, the bad, and the ugly. He remembered sticking that toy in the ash tray, and the stern, drunken scolding that he got from his dad soon after. He remembered him and Dean etching their initials on the car door. He remembered the fireworks. The countless nights of booze and fastfood takeout. Lying down on the hood of the car to watch the stars whenever they were in between cases. All the times Dean saved his ass, yelled at him, laughed with him, and everything in between.

His eyes met yours, and the sight of you broke his heart all over again.

Sam didn’t have much time. This much he knew. He could feel the mind-melting, soul-breaking pain of Lucifer scratching at his walls— no, he was tearing them down, howling to be in control once more. Sam could hear every single scream and whisper that Lucifer was filling his ears with and it was too much. In his gut swelled the familiar hatred that the fallen archangel harbored for humanity, and it wasn’t the boiling hot rage that most people would expect. It was the kind of hatred that flowed through each and every single blood vessel in your body; the kind that only a being as old as the devil could feel. It was quiet, deadly. It was the kind of hatred that consumed you, built up from eons of being locked in a cage like an animal. Lucifer blurred the lines between his anger and Sam’s, and that scared the younger Winchester.

But standing there with you, seeing you as if it was the first time, Sam thought he could bear it, if only a little while longer. Standing there with you made it clear that that hatred couldn’t possibly be his own, because how could he ever hate you? No, Sam Winchester loved you, and it came to him as easy as breathing.

More memories broke through, and this time, they’re of you. The way your eyes crinkled when you smiled. The sound of your laughter in the early morning. The time you helped him make a girl jealous in 8th grade when it was really just an excuse to be close to you. The time you kissed him when you were as high as a kite after getting your wisdom teeth removed. 

If he closed his eyes, he could feel the ghost of your lips on his and pretend that everything was alright. Lucifer would not take this away from him.

Finally, Sam lowered his fist and gasped as his senses were flooded with everything. You could almost sob in relief, if it wasn’t for the fact that it wouldn’t be long until Michael and Lucifer came back with a vengeance, but nothing could ever be worse than what would come next. Sam took several steps back, rummaging through his pocket to retrieve the Four Horsemen’s rings. Your muscles ached as you tried to get back up, but nothing could trump the pain in your chest as you watched Sam slowly back away from Dean.

It’s cruel, probably the cruelest thing that the universe threw at you. You had seconds of clarity, and they were the seconds counting down to the love of your life’s suicide. Sam looked at Dean, and then at you, and you almost wished he didn’t. For a moment, you thought that maybe this was all some one sick, twisted nightmare and that you were gonna wake up any minute now. You blinked, but Dean was still beaten and bloody and Sam still felt so far away. There were tears in his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Even now, he still tried to keep on a brave face for you. It almost made you smile. A tiny part of you hoped that maybe the apocalypse wouldn’t be so bad as long as you went down with him. Almost as if you wanted Lucifer to win just so you could keep Sam in the only way you could. The thought passed as quickly as it came, all while feeling like a knife had been twisted in your stomach. 

“It’s gonna be okay, I got him,” he breathed heavily, stepping away from you and Dean even further. “We’re gonna be okay. Everything’s gonna be alright.”

He sounded as if he didn’t really believe himself either.

He pulled out the Horsemen’s rings from his pocket and threw them on the ground, chanting the incantation to open the cage. The ground shook, and before you knew it, a large pit had opened up in the soil. From where you stood, all you could see was a black void, but you knew what it was. It was hell. It was the deepest, darkest, most depraved part of hell and Sam was going in with a one-way ticket. 

“Sammy,” your voice broke. He turns his head to look at you again. You didn’t know what to say. Did you want to stop him? Jump into the pit with him? Profess your undying love for him?

None of those options seemed right. The clock was ticking.

Ten. 

You could see how scared he was, his hands trembled with the weight of what he was about to do. You wanted to go up to him, hold him, tell him that he was going to be okay, but you couldn’t. It was dangerous, yes, but you knew that if you took even just one step closer to him, you wouldn’t let him go.

Nine.

“I’m sorry,” he called you. “For everything.”

He took another step back. He knew what Lucifer did to you, and it crushed him. It took everything in him to not go to you and protect you the way he wanted to. To beg for your forgiveness.

Eight.

“Sam, please,” you begged, though you weren’t sure what you were begging for. You looked over at Dean, trying to get him to back you up. World be damned, you won’t fucking lose Sam. Dean could only stare back at you, his head hung low in defeat. He was letting go, and he was telling you to do the same.

Seven.

The air seemed to grow heavier, and Sam yelled at you and Dean to stay back. Even though it broke your heart to do so, you did as he asked, scurrying over to Dean’s side to help him get away from Sam. Dean grunted in pain, clutching your hand that was on his chest. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm.

Six.

Sam called your name, and nothing was more important. You stood up, heart clenched in anticipation. 

“I need,” he took a deep breath. “I need you to know.”

Five.

“Need to know what, Sam?” a cry escaped your lungs. 

“That it’s always been you,” he smiled sadly, voice barely heard over the chaos. “It was always gonna be you.”

It was odd, the way the heat rushed to your cheeks. The way your own heart beat twice, thrice as fast than it already was. You could almost let the world around you fade away. There was only Sam.

He spoke again, a little louder, a little braver, “You know that, right?”

Four.

“I know,” you tried to stifle your sobs. His admission hung in the air, filling your lungs with everything that was him. He loved you, and you always knew. 

“That’s my girl,” he kept smiling, determined to make sure that that was the last thing you saw. He didn’t want you to remember his death. He just wanted you to remember him. 

Sam knew why you didn’t say it, and it was for the same reason he did. It was better this way. Saying those three words would set things in stone, and especially now that he was seconds away from his death, he didn’t see the point of hurting you that much more.

Three.

Michael returned, a wave of unseen energy washing over you and Dean at his arrival. His anger distorted Adam’s young face. Panic overtook the anger, however, when he noticed just how close Sam was from jumping off the edge.

Two.

Sam closed his eyes, letting gravity pull him in. Michael screamed, rushing over to stop Sam from falling in. For a split-second, you feared the worst would come to pass. That Michael would save Sam and just resume his world-ending battle with Lucifer.

Sam’s eyes shot open when Michael’s hands tried to get him away from the pit but immediately, his gaze flickered over to you.

You, with the pain of a thousand lifetimes weighing on you, and the cuts and bruises and tears to show for it.

You, with the laughter that pulled him out of every nightmare on the days when his own mind wouldn’t let him rest.

You, with the proud, contagious smile after every hilariously bad joke, all because you wanted to see him smile, too.

His heart was yours, perhaps it had been since the beginning, but Sam knew one thing: this world was better with you in it.

With all the strength he could muster, he grabbed Michael by the lapel of Adam’s jacket, and pulled him into the pit. 

Sam was gone.

One.

When the pit closed up and left nothing but the Four Horsemen’s rings behind, you forced yourself to move away from Dean and approach the rings, kneeling by the spot where the pit just was. The world was safe again, though you didn’t know how long that would last. The grass was soft under the palm of your hand, as if there wasn’t a massive doorway to hell there just moments prior. You let yourself cry; to truly pour your heart out for someone who wouldn’t be able to hear it.

You would never have another morning coffee run with him or another all-nighter spent on researching monster lore. No more pop culture debates or stitching up each other’s wounds. You would never make him smile, ruffle his hair, or hold his hand again, nor would you feel him keeping an eye on you while you slept. 

Since before you hunted your first monster, Sam had been by your side. Now that you didn’t have him, it felt as though you weren’t a whole person. Like your very soul had been torn apart and its pieces were lost in the wind, never to be complete again.

Castiel returned, seemingly resurrected by none other than God Himself, and immediately helped Dean and Bobby get back up on their feet, all shiny and new. When he walked over to you, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek and heal all your wounds, you moved away. Your face was littered with small cuts from being thrown to the side by Lucifer, and you were sure there would be a massive bruise on your back from the impact.

You still refused to be healed. 

“Let it be,” you told Cas quietly. He frowned, hesitant to heed your request, but he obliged anyway.

Seconds. It only took seconds for you to lose everything. You didn’t know what you were feeling; if only there was a word, any word, for you to explain to Dean, Cas, maybe Bobby, the way you felt everything and nothing at the same time.

Truth be told, you were lucky to have only lost one person, but the lingering question in your mind was why did it have to be the person who meant everything to you? There was no answer, and the silence was the worst of it. Sam wasn’t there to tell you that he’s okay, and he won’t be able to ever again. Your injuries ached. You almost welcomed the discomfort, desperate for anything to keep you grounded.

A large hand rested on your shoulder. It was Dean. You shared a look with him, a silent exchange of “I’m sorry” and “I’m here” to each other. In your grief, it was easy to forget that Dean had lost his baby brother, just as you had lost the love of your life. Moments later, Bobby stood beside the two of you. Three people brought together in grief that they weren’t sure they could ever recover from. You knew then and there, that you’d spend the rest of your life picking up the tiny little pieces of your heart, trying to be okay. Because that’s what Sam would’ve wanted.

You would never know so many things. The pain he’d go through. The fact that as he fell into the darkness, white-hot flames burning his flesh, he thought of you. Poked and prodded, stabbed and skinned, broken and put back together just to be broken again. What Sam knew, even if you didn’t, was that he’d make this same choice again and again because he knew you would be okay.

Sam Winchester died, and it came as easy to him as loving you.

[sp-by-april]

💝🐓👀🥀🕸️

Anything for my mutuals!! ilu dude 🥰 Human Kite x M!Reader, Voyeurism with some virginity and a soupcon of dubcon!! ORDER UP

Human Kite x M!Reader

[Order At The Smut Cafe!] [Kyle Broflovski Master List]

My relationship with Human Kite… Wasn’t really a relationship. I was the new Hero in town and we kind of ran in the same circles. To be honest, at first, I was more into one of his friends.

Then we spent more time together. We made a good team. We’d even patrol together when either of us got bored.

It didn’t hurt that he was pretty hot.

Then we started hanging out as civilians. Sometimes I thought that maybe he was into me, but then he’d say something that completely dashed any hopes. It was always hard to figure out what was going on in his head.

Well... It used to be.

One night I was naked in the privacy of my bedroom. I was really amped up from absolutely crushing Professor Chaos, and I had to get that energy out somehow, you know?

So I’m on my bed, I have some great porn on TV and I’m stroking myself nice and slow, you know? Really building up to it.

I reach over to my nightstand to grab some lube so I can really have a good time. But in the mirror, just past my nightstand, I see something odd. Human Kite was on my neighbor’s roof. He was watching me. I had my window wide open since it was an unseasonably warm summer night, so he had the perfect view.

Honestly, it really turned me on. I grabbed the lube, drizzled on my cock slowly, and tossed it on the bed next to me.

I started to slowly stroke myself again, and I made real show of it. I imitated every solo video I’d ever gotten off to and I was fighting with myself not to come just from knowing he was watching me.

Occasionally I would glance over to make sure he was still watching me, and he always was.

Until I was almost finished. I didn’t see him. Confusing. Maybe he realized staring into guy’s windows wasn’t very heroic and left?

There was a thunk! On my roof.

Shit.

He lowered himself down from the roof and swung into my window.

He stood right next to my bed and stared, “You knew I was there,”

“I – Uh – Yeah,” I stammered, I wasn’t really sure what to do in that situation.

He unbuckled his Kite from his back and it dropped onto my floor, “You knew I was watching you and kept going,”

“You watching me...” I suddenly throbbed in my hand, his line of questioning was turning me on more, “It was hot,”

He smirked as he pulled down his hood, and his red curls bounced, “Come here,”

I’m not sure why, other than I was only thinking with my dick, but I got on my knees and crawled towards him at the side of my bed.

“Good boy,” He began to strip out of his superhero suit, “Turn around,”

“Wait – I” I protested.

Then I watched him unveil his cock. He looked good. He was thick and sticky with enough precum to make it obvious he’d been turned on for a while. It looked so good I wanted to run my tongue over every vein.

“Wait what?” I asked as he grabbed onto my shoulders and forcibly turned me around.

“I’ve never… You know,” I hated to admit it, but it was a milestone I hadn’t hit yet.

I may have imagined what it would be like to have him fuck me, I never thought it would be like this. I wanted him but fuck, the size of him alone worried me.

He sighed and grabbed the lube off the bed next to me, “You’ll be fine,”

“But –” I was interrupted by a wet drizzle on my ass, “I don’t think we should –“

He hummed softly as he rubbed the head of his cock right against my hole, “Just relax,”

He grabbed my shoulder and then squeezed inside of me.

The pain quickly dissolved into pleasure as his hips started to shift into me. I started moaning right away.

“Fuck,” He leaned over me and kissed my shoulder, “You feel even better than I imagined,”

For just a moment, I thought that he’d take it easy with me. I relaxed.

Then he started to speed up and thrust harder.

His hand ran down my back, to my hip, and slid around until his hand was on my cock. He began to stroke me impossibly slow while pounding me like there was no tomorrow.

I listened to him groan in my ear while he treated me like a kind of plaything and I had never been more turned on in my fucking life.

I had a familiar tightness in my lower half that was unbearable. The pressure had built up to the point that I couldn’t contain it anymore. My eyes rolled back and a loud, trembling moan spilled out of me as my hips jumped. He kept stroking me as I totally erupted, my dick pulsing intensely while I coated the bed in milky ribbons.

Then he thrust into me hard. He groaned so low and deep that it was almost a growl and I could feel every inch of his impressive cock pumping me full of hot, sticky spurts.

He panted as he quickly let me go, pulled out, and started getting dressed.

“Come on,” Human Kite said flatly, “We still need to patrol,”

[cumsockwoundpack]

LAST SEMESTER: Ch. 1. (t4t boydyke yaoi)

You've known eachother for a while, since freshman year. You were both at the same dive bar for the same local punk show since you saw the same flyer. They were the only other one to get up off their stool and at least halfassedly go through the pantomime of the mosh, the collective ritual. Wiry little fucker throwing their bodyweight at you. Pack bonding.

You both went out for smokes, looked at eachothers' hands, the sharpie'd-on X marks, the veins, the knuckles. Your sight lingered. So did theirs. You promptly lit your smokes and started shooting the shit about how "Ohhh, Man, Remember When Ceremony Stopped Doing Hardcore?" and "man I wish skinheads didn't ruin being a skinhead," and "new HKFY's fucking sick, right? Can I kill the rest of your ciggie? by the way what's your-"

His name's Ted. Ted and Jack. Rolled off the tongue a little.

You were fast friends after that - genuinely! Really good friends. Like two shounen protags.

Really. Just good friends.

You were at the local community college for trade school, they were there for music. You played bass because you were a caveman, they played guitar because they were smart.

You'd jam together, hanging out, watching movies, smoking weed. Tripped together in the dorms a couple times. Did molly together without fucking, somehow. Lord knows that's an achievement.

Somewhere in the four years between then and now, you both crystallized the realizations people have after listening to Tracy Chapman and being inexorably, inexplicably drawn to other likeminded freaks their whole lives. Dykes are like Stand users.

You got on your meds, started going by Jackie, made sure to lift here and there to keep your muscles from atrophy, he got on his meds and suddenly started spending a lot of time locked in his room. You both had your flings and conquests, sharing enough locker-room chirps with eachother to brag but not enough to break the aura of mutual chivalry. He also got a lot better at guitar - you'd know, you always paid (a completely normal amount of!) attention to his left-hand fretwork, his handling of the pick, his tendons underneath the skin as they flexed so deftly-

You blink.

You're in the drivers seat of your car, clutching the wheel a little too tight in the driveway of his new apartment - he finally moved out of the dorms for these last few weeks of your shared school career. You cut the engine and poke him to wake him up (he's kinda cute when he knocks out in the car like that. you're supposed to call the homies cute, right?)

"Aw, cute li'l thing, got tired? It's a fucken half hour car ride, dude, get up."

You hit the cabin lights to drive the point home.

"Mmnh... huh? Whuh?" -- he blinks, looks a little flustered. Not just disgruntled from an abrupt wake-up. Flushed cheeks, bashful little pout. (Why did you say that?) -- "We're here? Fuckin, help me get furniture in, then grab your amp. Gotta christen the home by pissing off the neighbors."

The apartment is a 1 bedroom, bare, all cold hardwood save for necessary kitchen appliances. He brought his desk, his bike, a new mattress, his stereo system coupled with all his physical media, a toolbag (put together from your recommendations), his laptop, his guitar and gear, and not much else. Clothes arranged on the floor in various states of disarray.

After bringing most of it in, working up a sweat, you cap it off by making some ramen to shovel down your gullets before getting down to business.

You both plug in, sit cross-legged facing eachother. You tune up and play for what seems like a few minutes but what the clock says to be hours, letting your attention wander since the less you think about what you're doing, the easier it is to stay in the groove, to keep the beat, to stay in-pocket. You keep time by looking at his left hand, as always. Thinking about when the next show's gonna be, whether that one DIY venue's finally gonna get their shit together and learn to not stiff local bands, when you'll find your next drummer (If you think male drummers are drama-magnets, lesbian drummers are worse, hands-down.), what the pit's gonna look like, the way he bounces off you to get momentum going.

His huffs of frustration when he fudges a chord, when the strings rattle and buzz, his bit lip, his furrowed brow, the sway of his head, his shoulders, the tap of his foot as it swivels on the heel, the way the heel-taps make the keys on his belt rattle, the DYKE PRIDE tattoo on his upper arm all sinew and tension and sweat despite the midwinter room temp, his black-brown-stress-grey stubble tracing a line from the temples to the jaw, his bit lip again -

"Jackie, baby, you've been playing that same open E string for the past, like, 15 bars... Why's your face so red? You good, girlie? Need a breather? I know I'm hard to keep up with."

"Fuck UP, dude. Talk shit when you aren't abusing those weezer powerchords like they owe you money."

"Ahh, I'm just messing with ya. It's, uh,".-he scratches the fade on the back of his neck - "getting late. It's like 11. You should probably head back. I don't wanna make you sleep on the floor."

What a great friend! You shake off the impression of wherever your mind was wandering and gather your things, you hop in the car, wave goodbye, turn the key - Nothing.

Must have left the cabin light on.

He's still looking at you.

Fuck.

You turn the key again. Fuck. Fuck. He doesn't have a car on hand. Fuck. It's late.

Ugh. He's knocking on the window.

"My battery's dead."

He deliberates internally for a moment.

You think about reclining the carseat and saying fuck it. You don't want to intrude.

"Ah, hell, it's Friday. Neither of us have shit better to do tomorrow. Come back inside."

You grab the hoodie from your backseat and put it on. Listen, it might be hardwood flooring, it might be like 50 degrees, but it beats sleeping in the car. Once you're curled up in the middle of the living room using a couple of his t-shirts as pillows and getting ready to sleep, he comes out of the bathroom brushing his teeth. In his boxers. Fuzzy legs. Treasure trail. Sweat on the inked barbed wire covering his chest scars. Looking at you almost like you're roadkill on his tire, utterly baffled at what you're doing.

"You nnmmoww you djon't, ope," - he zips back to the sink, spits, rinses, comes back out - "you know I said I didn't wanna make you sleep on the floor, dude. You're a friend. We're good. It's camaraderie. C'mon, get in bed. S'fuckin cozy."

You lay on opposite sides of the queen bed but, y'know, not overly spaced-out since you're not trying to, y'know, employ any no-homo buffer distance, but just, cuz, y'know, you're really good friends and you're comfortable with eachother. Right. Yeah. Gosh, these are nice sheets. Good at keeping the heat in. Li'l too good.

"Ted."

"Yeah?"

"Do you mind if I strip? i'll keep underwear on or whatever but this fucking hoodie is a bit too m-"

"Woman, I have held you over the toilet by the fucking scalp when you couldn't handle a couple vodka sodas."

"Sorry, I-"

"We have both asked eachother terribly embarrassing medical questions and given equally mortifying aid in the pits of uninsured existence."

"Jeez-"

"Besides, you already know my taste in women. You're fine. No stress."

"You sure?"

"Fucking strip, idiot."

You blush. Thankfully the lights are off.

He starts snoring surprisingly quickly. How cute!

Hey. Wait. Let's examine that. What the fuck has been with you today? It's not your first rodeo when it comes to your brain insisting that you shit where you eat, but him?? Him?? Fucking "Aww, cute li'l thing"? Christ. You half-consider propositioning him at some point tomorrow just for a quickie, like getting a song out of your head by singing it. Hell, you know he'd prolly agree to it out of sheer jackass bravado. He said it himself, you've both done worse.

But you don't need that. It's a line in the sand. He wouldn't look at you the same, despite both your best efforts. There'd be tension. You don't want to fuck this up. You drift off thinking about talking to your doctor to lower your progesterone dose, maybe that's what's got you so hot and bothered. The blankets are warm.

Waking up a few hours later, the first thing you notice is that you have to piss. The second thing you notice is his snored breath flitting across your ear. The third, fourth, and fifth things in quick succession are his arm around you, the fuzz on his chest pressed against your back, and the warm, granite-carved hand placed on your breast.

It's there gently, fingers splayed across it, a pleasant weight, and he's still 100% knocked out, so you quietly peel it off, set his arm by his side, and get up to piss. You explain it away as "Oh, he's a boydyke Casanova running on autopilot, that tender scamp," etc.

Though, it felt nice.

Felt too nice.

You shake it off and go back to bed.

You settle in under the covers. He's on his back and he looks agitated. Still sweating. God, the sweat. Neither of you showered, the day lays thick on your skin and almost fogs up thicker under the blanket. It overwhelms your sense of smell, it coats your sinuses.

He's shaking a bit. Little grunts n murmurs of fear and discomfort. You wonder if he's having a nightmare. Oh, poor thing.

Before you can think about it, you have your arms around him, your warmth pressed against his. It doesn't seem to do much, though; he's still tossing and fidgeting.

"Mmnh....Hey...."

You freeze. Oh god.

He snores again and his face screws up even harder in his sleep. Oh, oh thank God, he's still knocked out. That would have been embarrassing. You think about what you're doing. You think about the inevitable scene beef, the "Oh, Jackie? That fucking creep?-" coming out of his mouth and you try not to think about how much that'd hurt.

You think about how he smells nice.

He rustles again. You pull him in closer.

"..........mff, fuuuUuuuuhhgck," he whines, eyes still closed, still lightly snoring on the inhale, face still contorted in agony, wait, no, it's, oh, you realize it's not just sweat you're smelling as you feel the damp spot on his boxers rubbing on your thigh.

"Fuck, Jackie....," He's still asleep. It's not a nightmare. And it's about you.

And now you're hard.

And he's grinding on your leg,

"Jackieeeeeeeee........"

And his face is buried in your tits, his face so taut, pressing into your sternum hard enough he's suffocating himself and you're frozen still and

His eyes snap open as something deep within the limbic system reminds him he needs oxygen, he pulls his face away, scrambles back, takes a deep, DEEP fucking breath, and now you're BOTH looking at eachothers' eyes, horrified, breaths stuck in throats. He's cute when he's scared.

And then he looks you down. Then back up. Then back down, where it's definitely too late for modesty. Then back up.

You notice you were drooling. He does too. You see him set his jaw. You see his brown eyes crystallize, noticeable even in the low light. He's hungry.

"You're cute when you're scared," he says.

And then your lips are locked.

[ch2 link] [ch3 link]

[shipsational]

OH YEAH WYBIE I meant to send an ask for him too fjdghjfdh What made you self ship with him post movie? Is Coraline still around? I'm very curious for any bit of post-movie world building you've done

thank you emile for my life 🙏

Okay! to your questions: aging him up was actually for Plot reasons, as you'll see in a moment, Yes she is around and bitch she does Not like me lmao

at first i Didnt age him up cause im problematic but then when i started working out an actual plot for the ship, i kinda Had to

the way i have it worked out is i needed him to inherit his grandmother's properties so he was in charge of the pink palace, which obviously he could only do as an adult, because otherwise there would be no way for me to actually rent there since the jones' moved in- there was always an empty unit in the other half of the house, but i think she always left that one empty on purpose cause there's something Evil and Wrong about it, since thats where the door Should be opening up if it didnt lead to a fucked up fae realm or whatever it is, connecting coraline's unit to the one that stays empty of that makes sense

but maybe, even knowing about the beldam, wybie didnt know That specifically, and he really needed to get some money in to help pay for the funerary expenses, so he opened it up.

as for my insert, they actually Work at the funeral home, they're a mortician, and they do taxidermy as a hobby. this is useful for a few reasons: they could either have met wybie and found out about the palace that way, or maybe they know forcible and spink and actually do all the taxidermy on their 50 billion dogs- its also useful for the ship name 'little dead things', which is part of one of his quotes, as well as the dead dove nature of the ship (altho its really only kinda problematic now cause he's like 18, instead of being Truly bad)

speaking of, since it is still kinda problematic- he's freshly an adult and im 30 and coraline does Not like that One Bit, and you know what thats fair its pretty weird i cannot blame her for being uncomfortable about it

now all of this is going on, and im moving into the unit thats all fucked up, something about layered realities and lingering evil and all that, its kind of vague and amorphous

but i think it would be fun and neat and terrible if its starts really affecting me- im essentially being haunted here. it doesnt start out v bad at all, but while im getting closer to wybie, coraline is getting more upset about it, which in turn can lead to arguments between them and between me and her, as well as me starting to feel guilty about it all, basically working up a storm of negative energy, and thats when it all starts to kick in and eventually amp up

since the well is supposed to be a portal between worlds, im of the mind that they basically just put her hand right back where it was before in her domain, and its taken a few years bout the beldam is back babey- the door and well might be sealed, but she still has some influence over my apartment and she's really feeding off the negativity and she wants Revenge

so basically, im being haunted by a vengeful entity and im surrounded by dead things as decoration, and im in the middle of a frustrating battle with the neighbor over her friend who im having a complicated relationship blooming up

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Limoncello - Chapter 1

Pairings: Nick Folio x fem!OC, Bad Omens x fem!OC

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: fluff, meeting people, lemons, people watching

Series Masterlist

“Life is not beautiful because of the things we see or do. Life is beautiful because of the people we meet.” ~ Simon Sinek

It is not polite to stare. Maeve knew that. It had been drilled into her for as long as she could remember. Her curiosity just always got the best of her. That day was no different. 

As she was making her coffee that sunny Saturday morning, she noticed a large moving truck in the driveway right across the street. She gazed out the window as she pushed her clear rimmed glasses up the bridge of her nose and leaned against the kitchen counter. That house had been empty for at least a year. Someone was moving in. She was going to have new neighbors. A small smile formed on her face. Maybe she could make some new friends. 

She continued to gaze out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone. A shrill beeping took her out of her staring contest with the truck and her head snapped towards the coffee maker. She made her cup before turning her attention back out the window. More vehicles had arrived at that point and the moving had begun. 

The first thing she noticed was that there were four men that were not in the uniform that the hired moving company was in. Then she noticed them moving a multitude of instruments and amps into the garage while the moving company moved the furniture into the house. 

She watched for the entire hour and a half it took for them to move everything into the house as she finished off the pot of coffee. As the moving truck pulled off and the four men stayed, all walking inside. Judging by the four mattresses she saw being carried into the house earlier, she figured that they all were going to be living there. Her curiosity was sated for the time being. 

Maeve prided herself on being a good neighbor, despite her tendency to people watch. As she got ready for the day, she had decided to bake her famous lemon cookies to bring to her new neighbors. She picked the lemons from the tree in her backyard and got to work. 

She packed them up nicely when they were done around midafternoon. As she cleaned up, the sound of heavy music coming from outside drew her back to her kitchen window. She grinned as she saw the four men in their garage and watched for a moment as they seemingly rehearsed a song. Her neighbors were a band. 

She figured that now was as good a time as any to go introduce herself. Maybe she would get to hear some good music as well. Grabbing the cookies, she rushed to her door and swung it open before changing her pace and leisurely walking across the street. Now that she was able to hear the music better, she realized it was a lot heavier than what she would usually choose to listen to. However, she didn’t mind it; the talent they had was obvious. Just as she got to their driveway, they finished up the song they were running. 

She weaved through the cars that were in the driveway before stopping right in front of the band. She noticed as they all paused to look at her and suddenly felt very intimidated. She mustered up a meek smile anyway. “Hi there!” She began, “I’m Maeve. I live right across the street. I thought I’d bring these over to welcome you guys to the neighborhood.” She held out the clear container filled neatly with cookies. 

“Ah, so the girl that watches from the window has a name?” The frontman joked, holding a hand out for her to shake. “Noah.” 

Maeve’s entire face felt hot at Noah’s joke. They caught her staring. She shook his hand, “I’m really sorry about that. Just got curious.” 

As Noah chuckled, one of the others grabbed the container from her hands before speaking to her. “That’s alright, Maeve. We got cookies out of it. I’m Nicholas, by the way.” 

Before she could reply, another walked over to her with his hand extended. “Nice to meet you, Maeve. I’m Jolly.” 

She shook his hand with a kind smile, “Lovely to meet you.”

“Folio! Come be neighborly.” Nicholas called to the drummer, before taking a bite of one of the cookies. “Whoa, did you make these?” He asked with bright eyes and a full mouth. 

She couldn’t help but giggle as she nodded at him, “Yeah, my own recipe.”

If he replied, she didn’t notice, because that’s when the drummer appeared in front of her. It was like the entire world disappeared. She could’ve sworn that her mind went fuzzy and she felt a lot warmer than before as she met his big, pretty brown eyes. She had to stop herself from gazing at his full lips. She snapped out of it when he extended his hand. “Hi,” he breathed, “I’m Nick.” He smiled at her, a slightly goofy smile but it made her heart jump into her throat. 

“Hi,” she beamed, shaking his hand. “I don’t know if you heard me earlier, but I’m Maeve.” 

She could’ve sworn she noticed him looking her up and down before responding. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thank you.” They had stopped shaking hands, but neither of them let go until Maeve realized and pulled her hand away as if his hand was burning her. She cleared her throat before putting her hands in the back pockets of her shorts, slightly rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet. Her gaze drifted to the other guys, who were focused on the cookies, before she looked at Nick again. “Go try one,” she encouraged kindly. “You don’t have to, of course. But it might change your life.”

Nick nodded with a slight smile, “I’m sure they will.” He winked at her before going to try one of the cookies. 

She watched as his eyes lit up when he took a bite, biting down on her lip to suppress a growing smirk. “I’ll let you guys get back to it. If you need anything don’t hesitate to come find me. Maybe you can come by for dinner sometime,” she spoke. “Until next time Noah, Jolly, and Nick squared.” She locked eyes with Folio and shot him a wink like he’d just done to her moments before. Then, she carefully walked back across the street and into her home. 

A couple of hours later, the guys sat in their house, unwinding with some video games after the long day. Half of Maeve’s cookies were gone and there were a couple of pizza boxes on the kitchen island. Boxes were scattered everywhere, reminding them that they still needed to unpack the majority of their things. But that was the next day’s problem. 

Folio could not stop thinking about Maeve. They’d noticed her watching as they moved in that morning and didn’t think anything of it. But then she showed up with a sweet smile and baked goods in the middle of a quick run through of some of their songs. She was an explosion of bright color; different from the usual dark shades he was always surrounded by. The glimmer in her eyes was reminiscent of warm sunlight reflecting off of a clear blue ocean. Her hair was bouncy, shiny, soft, with different shades of brown throughout it. Some darker, some lighter, presumably from sun bleaching. The curves of her body reminded him of the suppleness that the statues of Greek Godesses were meant to depict. The way that her sun kissed skin looked against the colors she wore made him wish that the sun would never set. At this point he was zoned out, staring at the tv in a lovesick daydream. 

“That Maeve girl was really nice,” Jolly broke Nick out of his trance as he walked back in the room. Nick hadn’t even noticed when he had stepped out. “Are we going to take her up on that dinner offer?”

“Honestly,” spoke Nicholas, “I think that could be fun. And if her cooking is anywhere near as good as those cookies are-“

“I could go get her number really quick,” Folio interrupted, almost sheepishly. “So we can all plan something.” 

At this, Noah sat up and raised an eyebrow in question as he stared at Folio, seemingly trying to figure him out. “Yeah. That’s a good idea,” was all he ended up saying, his voice letting on that he wanted to say more. He ultimately decided against it. 

Folio nodded and stood up, slipping on his slides before going across the street. He knocked three times on Maeve’s door and waited for no less than a minute before it swung open to reveal Maeve in all her glory. She wore fuzzy pink lounge pants that looked almost as soft as her skin did, and a plain white tshirt. Her glasses were perched on her freckled nose and she was nursing a drink that was yellow in color. He almost forgot to speak until she spoke up herself. 

“Hey Nick,” she said with a bright, toothy smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He cleared his throat, “We never got your number. I thought it might be good to have so we can make plans for that dinner you offered up.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh my god! I knew I forgot something. I’m so sorry,” she rambled. “Gimme your phone.” 

Nick let out a quiet laugh as pulled up the contacts on his phone and handed it to her, “Don’t apologize, it’s fine. You don’t mind if I share your number with the guys right?”

She quickly typed her number in and texted herself before handing it back, “Not at all! Just have them all text me so I can save their contacts.”

“Thanks,” Nick smiled. His eyes fell to the drink she was holding, “What is that?”

She followed his gaze. “Oh! It’s limoncello. I make my own. Wanna try it?” She held out the glass. 

Nick shrugged and hesitantly took the glass, waterfalling a little bit into his mouth. “Whoa,” he handed the glass back. “That’s nice.” They stood in silence for a moment before he spoke up again, “I’m gonna head back. But we’ll text you. Goodnight, Maeve.” He turned and began to walk back across the street

“Goodnight, Nick.” She called out after her before closing the door. 

Nick went back inside with two things in his mind: Maeve and Limoncello. 

[elementary-my-dear-daddy]

Captivated

Analogical (Virgil & Logan)

Warnings: Intoxicated sex, smoking, blood/violence mention, jerking off

Read it on AO3!

Summary: Punk!AU where Logan is absolutely fascinated by the lead of a local band at a house show.

The harsh ring of feedback coming from the shitty speakers set up in the backyard of the house show Logan was at seemed to make his skull buzz. Contrary to what Remus tells all of their friends, he was not dragged, lied to, or forced to be here. He liked the thrum of loud music and enraged lyrics spat towards him, it was a good place to decompress and let go of the rigid persona he typically presented. He could give up the polos and ties and neatly combed hair for a night in favor of a less maintained appearance, which felt rather freeing. Tonight he’d borrowed a pair of ragged crust pants from Remus and opted to wear a sleeveless tank that showed the slightest bit of his Oxytocin formula tattoo on his shoulder, and of course exchanged his dress shoes for sturdy boots just in case he’d end up near a mosh pit. Speaking of, Remus found him just as the next song started, waving him over to the gate into the yard so they could actually hear each other. He successfully managed to work his way through the crowd and noticed that Remus was pulling something out of his pockets.

“What’s that?” Logan asked loudly, trying to be heard over the loud screaming of the song.

“I scored a few spliffs!” Remus yelled back, pulling out two of the mentioned items as well as a lighter, “Want one?”

Logan nodded, waiting for him to light his own before taking one for himself. He let the end rest in his mouth while he clicked the lighter a few times to produce a flame. He didn’t see the harm in occasional vices like these, so long as they remained occasional, and if they helped him let loose, well that’s just an added bonus. He exhaled the first hit slowly, just like the other taught him to do when they were skipping classes together in high school. 

“These aren’t laced, right?” He thought to question.

“Probably not.” Remus shrugged, “I got ‘em out of a nightstand, so unless whoever lives here wanted to poison themselves I don’t think so!” 

Logan rolled his eyes, taking another drag. Of course Remus stole them, “Let’s hope we don’t get caught then.”

“Have I ever gotten caught?”

“Don’t you remember junior year when we-”

“Have I ever faced consequences?” He shot with a grin.

Logan frowned, “Unfortunately, no.”

“Fuck you too, stiff.” Remus blew a cloud of smoke in his face with a laugh.

When the taste and smell of burning filter hit them they flicked their spliffs to the ground, taking care to stomp both of them out (If Remus was going to cause a fire, it would be intentional). There’d been a lull in sound as a new band started to set up after the last. It wasn’t much of a stage, just a few amps, a drum kit, and a platform of old wooden pallets and scrap that raised the performers up slightly. Logan leaned against the cinderblock walls of the yard separating it from the neighbors who so graciously put up with what went on here and watched over the crowd. Small groups chatted, drank, smoked and what could only be described as dicked around the venue. He took it in, smirking to himself as he thought about how just a few years ago he’d be appalled at such deviant behavior. Now, he happily participated in it all.

His attention gravitated towards the new band, notably the man at the front fussing over what looked like a bass. Heavily decorated with tattoos, piercings, and a magenta dyed mess of hair, he seemed so… compelling to Logan. He slung his instrument over himself and wandered up to the microphone set up at the front.

“Hey, shut up we’re gonna start.” He spoke, setting off the feedback on the mic again. The crowd hushed and began to gather towards the stage. The man spoke again, “We’re Fairy Certain by the way and we write songs about gay sex.”

There were four clicks of drumsticks counting the band in before noise assaulted the crowd. A fast driving beat drew people to the front, with a few people starting to headbang and form the beginnings of a pit. There were a few bars of instrumentals, before the man at the front leaned into the mic again.

“We aren’t a crime… Not on my time…”

Logan paced over to the edge of the crowd, gazing up at the stranger with a hazy expression. Lithe fingers plucked over the stings of his instrument quickly as he yelled into the microphone, captivating Logan.

“I’ll be your man…that way you can…”

His mind could have been addled by smoking, or from the rush of adrenaline the music gave him, but the singer seemed to glow up on the stage. He wondered if it was just a trick of light from the porch lamps reflecting in the second hand smoke from various sources or if it was actually radiating from the man.

“Be my boy, let’s destroy the fucking world “

Over the course of the performance, Logan got closer to the stage. He moved with the crowd, shuffling along as the tempo of each song changed. There were a few times he landed at the edge of the pit and absentmindedly pushed its participants back towards the violent center. It was one of those times when the crowd was fully ramped up that he felt a rough shove at his back, launching him forwards into the action. He was caught up in the chaos and tried to get his head on straight to escape it. He dug his shoes into the ground and shoved the nearest body, only to feel himself get slammed by another in his side. When he turned, an elbow collided with his face. In a few seconds, he was completely disoriented and knocked over onto the dusty ground. He had enough sense in him to cover his head and curl up, waiting for the pit to dissipate or for someone to pick him up. Luckily, it was only a few moments before someone was grabbing onto his arm and yanking him back to his feet.

After getting his bearings and dusting himself off, he noticed the music stopped and everyone in the immediate vicinity was staring at him. The person who grabbed him still had a hand on his shoulder. He turned to look and was met with the same man who had been performing this set. Now that he could see his face a little more clearly, he saw the touch of black eyeshadow beneath his brown eyes. He looked at Logan with a worried expression, checking for any distress in his face.

“Hey. You ok?”

Logan opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. He nodded instead.

“Your lip is bleeding.” The stranger pointed out, “Hold on wait here.”

He watched as the other hopped back up on stage and leaned into the mic again.

“Learn your fucking show etiquette assholes, you’re supposed to pick up someone if they fall! That was our last song anyway. Whatever.” He stepped off the stage and returned to Logan, who was more or less at the peak of his trip and was unable to do much besides stare. The man grabbed his hand again and led him back into the house.

Logan was taken past a long line of people to the house’s bathroom, the two of them cutting off the next person in line for it.

“Hey what the fuck?”

“I’m just getting the first aid kit, gimme a sec.” 

Logan waited in the doorway, watching him dig around under the sink until he retrieved what he was looking for. The stranger once again grabbed his hand and tugged him towards the back of the house, grabbing keys from the chain on his belt and unlocking one of the bedrooms. He was sat down on the bed, waiting as the other opened the kit up and found some things from it.

“I’m Logan.” He managed to say. 

“Virgil.” The other responded. He took Logan’s chin in his hand as he analyzed the injury, “Don’t think you’ll need stitches but this looks pretty nasty. You took a few decent hits out there, huh?”

Logan stared at him with wide eyes, blushing, “Is it that obvious I was smoking?”

Virgil looked at him, confused at first, and then with an expression of realization, then a soft smile, “I meant in the pit, but now that you mention it your eyes seem kind of dilated.”

“Oh.”

“Just hold still for me, Logan.” He said, taking a wipe to the cut. Logan winced and would’ve pulled away if not for Virgil’s hand holding him in place. Soon enough the blood and dirt were wiped away and some salve was applied to help it heal. It helped bring him back to earth for now, his high finally dying down enough for him to feel the pain of the injury and the awkwardness of the situation.

“Sorry, I should have been more careful out there.”

“No, not your fault. Some asshole pushed you in, I saw him.”

“He didn’t happen to have no shirt and a mustache, did he?”

“He did.”

“Remus. A friend.”

“An asshole friend.”

“That defines him very well actually.” Logan said, earning a chuckle from Virgil, “Sorry to make you end your set. I liked it a lot.”

“Thanks, but don’t worry about it.” Virgil shrugged, “Rude people don’t get to hear my awesome gay sex music anyway.”

Logan smiled, “Why do you write about it?”

“Dunno. I’m gay. I have sex. I like to yell about it.” He closed the lid on the first aid kit and set it off to the side, turning back to Logan, “Why do you go to these types of shows?”

“They let me relax, as hard as that might be to believe.” Logan answered, “Plus it isn’t a bad way to meet people.”

“True.”

They both sat there on the bed for a moment. Loud music from the next set of musicians started, slightly muted by the walls of the house, filling the brief silence between them.

“I bet you meet a lot of people at these shows.”

“Sometimes.” Virgil responded, “Everyone wants a singer but no one wants a bassist. They cancel each other out.”

“Surely that’s not accurate.”

“It’s true, and yet we’re the best with our fingers.” He joked, holding up two fingers and mimicked the action of plucking a bass, “You trying to say something?”

Logan rubbed his arm nervously, “Oh, I didn’t mean like- well… you are attractive but I meant, sorry.”

Virgil laughed at the other fumbling over his words, “It’s okay, it’s cute.”

“What is?” He asked, still a little dazed.

“You are.”

“Oh…” Logan turned red. It was hard to see in the unlit bedroom, but still noticeable, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Virgil replied, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but do you wanna stay for more than just the music?”

It took Logan a few seconds to process what Virgil meant, but when he got it he looked back at the other man and nodded quickly.

Virgil acted quickly, going to straddle Logan’s hip and capture his lips in a kiss. He was careful to avoid hurting him further, but he couldn’t help but intensify the kiss when the faint taste of blood entered his mouth. Logan was overwhelmed just by a simple kiss. The other’s tongue piercing ran under the roof of his own mouth, while the twin hoops from his spider bites pressed into the flesh of his lips. He tried to match the force that Virgil gave, but found himself content just being the recipient of the affection, only making a lazy attempt to lick into the other’s mouth occasionally.

After a few minutes of this, Virgil pulled away, taking in the sight of a lust drunk Logan. He pushed him to the bed lightly before going at it again, this time letting a hand roam underneath the thin fabric of Logan’s shirt. The feeling of Virgil’s hands exploring his skin excited him and he arched into the touch as soon as his hand ghosted over his pecs. A soft moan left his mouth, causing Virgil to smile against his.

“You like that baby?”

“Mhm.” He responded.

“You want more than this?”

Logan gasped as Virgil ran his thumb over his nipple, “Please, yeah.”

“Let’s get these out of the way then.” Virgil said, playing with the hem of Logan’s shirt and pants.

They both quickly scrambled out of their clothes, flinging them out of the way as they pressed quick kisses and gentle touches to each other's newly exposed skin. When they stripped down to just boxers, Virgil urged Logan to lay down on the bed once again. He rubbed at the other’s thighs as he hovered over him, quickly noticing the small wet patch forming at the top of the tent in Logan’s underwear.

“Fuck, so hard already? That’s fucking adorable.”

“Virgil…” Logan whined.

“I know babe, I know.” He reached to pull his own length out of his boxers, spitting on his hand and slicking himself up, letting a quiet moan leave his lips as he did. Once he worked himself up he took out Logan’s cock, leaning forward until he held them both in his hand. He stroked them together, listening past the loud music coming from outside to hear all of Logan’s noises.

Logan bucked his hips up into Virgil’s hand, looking at how handsome he looked above him. Tattoos covering his chest, arms, and sides, all glistening with the effort of performing both before and now. His expression, lips slightly parted, brow furrowed, messy hair sticking to his forehead, and eyes squeezed shut in focus as he jerked them together, it was so incredibly hot. He let out a groan as the other twisted his wrist just right so his palm ran over the head of his dick. 

Virgil opened his eyes to see Logan writhing in pleasure beneath him, his hands gripping the sheets beneath him. He moved his hand over their lengths faster, gripping them harder than before.

“Fuckkkk Logan, feels good.”

“Uh-huh, faster!”

“You want more? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Virgil increased his pace and leaned forward to kiss him again, not being as gentle as before and biting Logan’s lip between his teeth as they got off. They both thrusted into his grip, moaning into each other’s mouth. It was when Virgil ran his tongue piercing over the fresh cut on his lip that Logan felt that familiar heat curling in his veins.

“ ‘m close!”

“Me too, shit-” Virgil cried as he stroked them as fast as he could. He captured Logan’s mouth in another long-lasting kiss, the other whining constantly as his orgasm built.

With a final couple touches from Virgil, they both toppled over the edge together. They spilled over each other’s cocks and stomachs, panting from the quick fuck. Once they rode out the pleasure, they collapsed beside each other on the bed.

VIrgil was the first one to break the silence of the afterglow, “How’re you doing, Lo?”

“That was really good.” Logan breathed, turning his head to rest against the other boy’s shoulder.

“Good, good.” Virgil sighed and reached for his shirt, cleaning the come off of the both of them. Logan watched and grimaced.

“You’re not going to wear that out, are you?”

“No, I’ll just toss it in the laundry tonight.” He replied, throwing it off to a corner of the room.

“Wait.” Logan finally put the two dots together, “You live here?”

Virgil nodded, “Yeah. I wouldn’t be as much of an ass about everything tonight if it wasn’t my place.”

Logan thought for a moment, “Was your door unlocked when you came in here?”

Virgil looked at him with curiosity, “Uh, yeah, I thought I locked it but I guess I didn’t. Which is weird because I normally check a bunch of times to make sure it’s really-”

“Check your drawers.”

Virgil leaned over to check the bedside dresser drawer where he kept all his smoking stuff that he usually used to relax before bed and, lo and behold, a few joints and spliffs he rolled before were missing.

“How did you-”

“I’ll make Remus pay you back.”

[theunderestimator-2]

Reading stories of betrayal, despair & friendships going south from “Wally …Did You No Wrong” by Ron Evans:

some of you may -or may not- be familiar with the sad & obscure tale of the lost Sex Pistol, Wally Nightingale, Steve Jones & Paul Cook’s schoolmate who actually put the initial pre-Pistols band together as a trio & provided the classy rehearsal space (“Riverside” studios in Hammersmith, London, where the boys could sneak in since Wally’s dad worked there as an electrician) but got the boot because Malcolm McLaren had decided he didn’t fit the image he had envisioned for the band, being the geeky & uncool kid with the ‘old man’s glasses’. He was completely erased from the Pistols history in a heartbeat, as though he had never existed and the rest is known R’n’R history.

Wally’s story remains a fairytale gone bad, one in which the dishonest get all the glory while the good guy is left with bollocks, and Ron’s book is so rich in first-hand feedback and so well written that sometimes it’s hard not to actually see the narrative played in your head as a scene from a movie that hasn’t been filmed yet. Like the heartbreaking part where Wally’s pals come to his parents’ house, after he was ousted from his own band, to get all the gear that he kept in his bedroom: guitars, acoustics, amps, saxophones, foot controls and harmonicas that had been nicked throughout the band’s lifespan. Wally had been gutted but he managed to keep it all in with dignity (he was such a lovely bloke that he even went for a drink with his ‘former’ bandmates that same night after he got the axe) and when they came with a van to move the gear, he dutifully even helped them to unplug and pack everything up, carefully putting everything in their cases, while his mum and dad silently stood in the hallway, till his mum broke into tears and had to be hurried into the living room while shouting that they owed Wally:

“I could hear her crying as I went back upstairs to say goodbye to Wally. His bedroom door was ajar and I looked through the gap. All I could see was that second-hand Les Pau copy he’d bought in order to start the band sitting on its stand, and Wally sitting on his bed crying”, says his schoolmate Steve Hayes.

Needless to say that the late Wally Nightingale is my all-time favorite R’n’R anti-hero, the most underrated figure in the entire history of punk & the undisputed champion of punk rock underdogs, and Ron Evans, his younger schoolmate/neighbor/friend/bandmate in Key West -the band Wally Nightingale played after the Sex Pistols- has done an excellent job in documenting Wally’s tragic path to self-destruction. You can order the book from his site: https://www.ronevans.rocks/, as well as his cool music, which you can also enjoy on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/artist/1z5w6O0737uoAZutq48mrn

[saintmeghanmarkle]

NE: Harry &amp; Meghan Frozen Out HW A-List SNUBS Meghan the King wont take sons calls! by u/Ruth_Lily

NE: Harry & Meghan Frozen Out, HW A-List SNUBS Meghan, the King won’t take son’s calls!” Why is Meghan Markle continually harassing the King & the BRF via tabloids since they want nothing to do with her? CREDIT for these are from Gossip-2 @ FBSome gems from the article“Now Harry’s furious father won’t even answer his calls! Tinseltown noticed & the invites dried up. The stars are leery about being seen in their orbit”“She thought marrying a Prince would make her a somebody but she’s seen as manipulative & scheming & trying too hard to be likable” [Palace Insider][Insider] “Meghan can show up where they’re at [famous neighbors] but they are not friends” [And don’t want to be photo’ed with her][Insider] “Perhaps if Meghan showed some humility & genuine kindness & isn’t so self-serving, she might find herself embraced instead of barely tolerated”.https://ift.tt/jvcSWXx post link: https://ift.tt/9x7legV author: Ruth_Lily submitted: August 16, 2024 at 08:31PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

[babblable]

So, I'm not deaf(?), but I just bought some hearing amplifiers because I'm poor and tired and figured I needed *something* to tide me over until I talk to my doctor on the 5 of August. Why did I do this? Well, over the years of my life I have suffered a lot of trauma, from my mother screaming at me for "ignoring" her and asking "what?" too much- to teachers doing the same thing for the same reason, all the way up til now, as an adult in a safe environment with unfortunately declining health in various ways due to childhood neglect, still asking those questions but getting affirmed with a repeated answer or a gentle "did you hear me?" Followed by a repeated answer if I responded to that with "no"! But!!! Because I've been able to hear 75% of things- level and quality of hearing those things having constantly been claimed unimportant by the adults throughout my childhood- I've just come to believe that my hearing is Fine and I'm just "being difficult".

Apparently, that was wrong and I only found this out because I work at a call center now and before a couple days ago, we shared desks.

And my deskmate? A small little elderly lady with no problems with her hearing.

I noticed one day that she always had the volume turned to half on the phone. Meanwhile, me, believing that my hearing Totally and Completely Fine, had to turn the phone volume to MAX and I STILL struggled to hear the customers who'd call in.

After a week of this, I decided "fuck it" and bought a pair of hearing amps on a whim.

Y'all when I say I was blown away by the fact that the world is so much more noisy, I wasn't joking.

I thought that there was Silence outside when I'd pick up delivery orders, outside of the occasional car passing by of course.

But no. No no. My best friend, @chuubifrog, had to tell me that Silence Does Not Exist when I asked him about it and that the humming I was hearing now when going outside is a mixture of the wind, the cars from the highway which is more than 500ft from our house, the entire neighborhoods A/C units, a wind chime from a neighbor down the street and a cricket somewhere nearby.

"W. what the fuck do you MEAN there is no Silence???"

"I'm honestly surprised you've experienced Silence at all. This is what the world sounds like."

"no fucking wonder everyone's always so angry."

I ALSO LEARNED that SODA fizz makes a noise! That I was always thought of as being aggressive or giving an attitude because it sounded like I was slamming things when really, I THOUGHT I was being GENTLE based off the noise of what I was "slamming".

I learned that the dog we have isn't just annoying to hear scrambling throughout the house bc of his nails, but downright painful to hear. I learned that the vents at work are so loud I can't hear myself think very well and I'm m surprised that we all manage to speak over it.

I learned that the reason my mother and other people I live with tell me to turn things down so often is because I couldn't hear it unless it was loud, and that it was REALLY disruptive to everyone else!

I learned that my phone is fine, actually! It's NOT busted because I had to talk to people on speaker and have it close to ears to hear it on max volume! I just couldn't hear in general.

And so, I realize now that so many issues I had growing up would have been so easily solved if the adults around me had bothered to listen when I said "I can sort of hear it...(But not very well)" or "I can't hear it.." instead of playing the noise again and making me "focus" on it really hard, often times resulting in their increased anger when the answer remained the same, I chose to lie to please them or they gave up, claimed I was being difficult and marked me as having perfect hearing.

I walk a line, apparently. And that line is "not enough to be marked as disabled, but too disabled have good quality of life without aid". It isn't the phrasing I wanted, but it's what my brain could put together.

And I am now conflicted between the euphoria of being able to hear all the things that I couldn't hear before, being overloaded sensory-wise and sadness as I sit here wondering why it took 26 years of abuse, neglect, a safer environment, an elderly coworker sharing my desk and a really cheap set of knock off hearing aids for me to realize that I'm hard of hearing.

I'm choosing to see the bright side, but I'm also going to ask my doctor about it on the 5th.

For anyone else who may think they might be HOH because of similar reasons, try out a cheap set of hearing amplifiers from Walmart or something. If you can hear the wind or the soda fizz with them on after years of Silence, then you should ask your doctor about the subject.