#I am so fucking tired of all my deliveries going to the wrong address

[greaseonmymouth]

Oddbox: “Hello, we have delivered your oddbox! We left it here *photo of location*”

location: not my front door

me: so why do you have the what3words feature for deliveries if you’re not going to use it????

[fuck-customers]

I'm still a bit mad about this so here we go-

My place of work closes at 5. These two customers come in like ten till and get a bunch of plants (I work at a plant shop). The one guy wants delivery, fuck me cause delivery orders take a while to do with all the damn paperwork and he has like 15 plants. I tell him the delivery fee, he asks if it's subjective on the amount of plants he gets, I explain it's a flat fee and that it gets delivered by a box truck. He decides he's gonna go back and get more plants. At 4:51. I tell him we close at 5 sharp, he says okay, but we all know that doesn't mean jack shit. He spends like another 10-15 getting more plants.

While he's going back there I start writing up the information for delivery. Plant name, gallon size, quantity, price, ect...

One of my coworkers comes up with the golf cart full of plants. There was probably 15+, atleast. It's like 4:55 now. He says the lady is still shopping in the back and has another cart full of plants. Fuck me again. He says she has a Beep and isn't gonna fit it all in there and is probably gonna do delivery. Double fuck me. I haven't even counted the cash drawer yet. I start writing up this first order. Again, all the details. Everythin.

One other coworker says she already got the prices of plants for the second order (the second cart, on top of the golf cart, the customer brought up) in the register computer. I say she (customer) wants delivery, so she walks away. Just leaves, as I'm writing up the order. Thanks for the fuckin help.

This is where I get more angry than I already was. Manager comes up, asks what's going one. It's past 5 at this point, we're closed. Except we're not cause both these fucks are out in the garden gettin more plants. I explain *both these customers want delivery. She says I can't do two things at once and that we need to 'divide and conquer'. First of all, divide and conquer my ass. I am conquering, no one is helping me. One cowroker even left while I was doing the order write up. I already wrote up all the information for the first order (besides stuff like customer address, I just did the plant details) and I'm pretty much almost done with writing up the next order. Bitch customer number 2 then is up front and loading plants in her car, which no one told me, which the coworker who brought them up who's helping her SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME the customer was taking certain plants. My manager and I have a back and forth, me basically explaining 'I already wrote down the information for BOTH orders'. She then makes me hand her my paper with order 2 on it and she basically disregards my entire work I just did, redoing everythin. I literally had it under control, I wrote down EVERYTHIN (that I could do). Plant names, quantity, prices, gallon size, and it was over 40+ plants in the end. At this point I'm pissed cause it's like 20 past five, neither one of these customers have their order written up officially (I use a scrap paper first then write nice on the order form), I don't want to leave in rush hour traffic and neither customer is upfront actually paying for their order.

Eventually another coworker comes up and helps the other other one who's still slow with doing orders. I give her all my information I wrote up for order 1. Weather or not they actually used it, idfk. I'm just pissed that all my effort went to waste for NOTHING for my manager to tell me I'm doing it 'wrong'. I was *this🤏 close to just clocking out and leaving since clearly no one wants the actual effort I put into these two damn fiasco of orders. Someone else can count the two cash drawers out, if you're gonna disregard my effort then you clearly don't want it and you can get someone else to do it.

This and the other shit that has been piling on, like my coworkers not helping me when we get busy and me feeling singled out for 'not checking customers out fast enough, not being vigilant of the front' makes me want to look for a new job. I'm tired of hustling my ass just to be told I'm slow at it, that I'm not cognizant, that my effort isn't enough. Why they don't get on my coworkers, idk. They do fuck all while the phone is blowing up and I have a line of customers upfront. They literally have 20 minute chats with the manager while I'm gettin slammed with customers or I'm actually doing somethin productive. It's only been six months but I'm already thinking of leaving.

Posted by admin Rodney

[bts-trash-blog]

Best Of Us

Chapter 7: Risk

Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn't help but end up falling.

Paring: Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader

Warning: A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.

Chapter edited

PREV._.NEXT 

The feeling of warmth spread across your cheek, it had your eyes blinking open bright sharp almost cat like, brown eyes staring back at you.The soft beeping of your phone had you whining as the person in front of you, Bambam lets out a chuckle as you slowly move from the pile of blankets you were under. The smell, the sticky sweet smell of the two of you sticking to you like glue, your hand reaches over to your phone. Seeing a light up message, from Jin saying you didn’t have to come in for the meetings after all, and then an email from Yoongi.Eye tightly shutting, reading for the Sorry but we’ve decided to let you go.. Email especially after what you had said right before you left. You wouldn’t be surprised at all for the termination.

Y/n,

Due to the events that occurred last night I am giving you the rest of the week off, though you will still need to do work from your laptop or the tablet we have given you. My single request is that you give me your address so I can send you physical copies of paperwork through Jin.

I would also like to invite you to an outing with Hoseok, Namjoon and myself, and talk through what has happened. I do not want you to feel pressured into anything so for the next week at five my mates and I will be at the cafe across the street from our building we will stay until eight each day.

I would also like to apologize for using my Alpha authority over you. I am never one to do that unless necessary and in that situation it was clearly not, I feel horrible about it but I do know that no apology will ever heal that wound. Only actions. And from this day on I will try to prove to you that I am not like that, I am not that type of Alpha. I am an Alpha your father will approve of. Hoseok is an Alpha your father will approve of. We are a pack your father will approve of, and even if he doesn't right away we will show him and your mother time and time again that we are worthy of your love. That our love is enough for their little girl, if you will have it of course. And if you don't want it, then we will let you go. Y/n this is up to you, and you alone. Just know how sorry I am that I even used that tone on you. I will never do it again.

Sincerely,

Min Yoongi

You felt your hand shake as you dropped your phone in shock onto your lap as you let out a whine, Bambam letting out his own as his nose nudged under your jaw as his arms wrapped their way around your waist. Your hands fall onto his arms as you feel his nose nudge against your scent gland, making your curl into him as he lays you down back into the nest. The pillows stacked along the wall and the ends of the bed moved slightly. The scent of the two of you mixing as you nose nudged against his scent gland. Purrs passing your guys lips as you sniffle, your fingers gripping at his bare shoulders, his skin warm under the palm of your hands. His nose rubbing against your skin trying to calm you down as you took deep breaths of his oranges and cream smell had your calming as you took a deep breath pulling from him.

“What up Y/n?”

“Just read.” He nods, taking your phone as you kneaded the bed below you, trying to see if you could make it softer, more welcoming. Hearing him sigh, you look to see the boy's eyes lingering at you as he gives you a tight lipped smile. “What do I do?”

“What do you want to do?” Your body froze as you sat in the middle of your bed, Bambam moving to rest his leg in your lap as your hands fell onto his thigh. Your fingers rubbing into the muscle uncousionaly as you take a deep breath.

“I don’t know.” Your voice was shaky as Bambam typed on your phone and handed it back, seeing he had emailed Yoongi back.

Mr.Min,

My address is (I really don't know what to name this) apartment 3a, and to give you an honest answer to the rest is a simple I don’t know.

Sincerely,

Y/LN Y/n

“That easy huh?” You wonder making him smile and nod as he sat up and grabbed his phone, a frown falling on his face making you move wrap your arm around his leg resting your cheek on his knees. “What wrong Bam?”

“Jackson hasn’t messaged me at all..I..I miss him.” His pout dropped to a full grown as you watched his lip quiver, his eyes building with tears as you moved to nuzzle yourself on top of him, his arms wrapping around your back as he let out a whimper. “It's like he doesn’t want me anymore. I know I'm not a conventual omega, you know? I'm tall and lanky and I’m a stubborn brat, but he said he was okay with all of that. He said he liked my body, and he was okay that I’m taller than him and that I’m not afraid to speak my mind..but what if he’s not. What if he found a shorter, curvier omega? Someone more obitident and he just doesn't know how to tell me.” His words had you moving closer, knowing he had no concern about your weight completely on him, he needed to compression as you nuzzled yourself deeper into his skin.

“Bam..”

“He didn’t even spend my heat with me, he hasn't even gotten me a courting gift.” His voice was full of pain as he held you close, letting a sob pass his lips as you let out a growl. Jackson had chased after your best friend for five month prior to Bambam caving and agreeing to be in a courting relationship with one of the richest families' sons. Their only son.  When the news broke, Bambam had been assigned bodyguards and a driver. Even when he was alone he was never really alone, and the stress of it all he just wanted to cuddle, scent with Jackson. Yet you would wake up to a facetime of a tired looking Bambam wrapped up in Jackson's sheets, alone, your mutual friends Lisa and her mate Jennie growling at the treatment Bambam was going through. Yet Bambam couldn’t seem to grow the courage to end the relationship. The pull to great between the two.

“Break up with him.”

“I can’t, I love him and I feel like its m-”

“Bam, if you leave him and he doesn’t try to fight it then he isn’t worth your fight. If he wants you then he needs to prove it. Also how he treats you, how any Alpha in this world treats you is not your fault. It's their own head being shoved far up their ass that they can’t see the world around them, and how it doesn't revolve around them. Bam. Text him, tell him you think the two of you need the end thing cause clearly he doesn’t have time for a relationship. Then me and you are gonna shove our faces while he freaks out.”

“But that's so curle.” “So is him, your supposed boyfriend and courting Alpha, not even texting you two words when he gets up, or even just letting you sit with him during his lunches in his office in silence. He hands you a scented hoodie for the week then you rarely see him afterwards. It's his turn to see how it feels.”

“I don’t want to lose him.” “Then don’t take my advice, okay? I'm not gonna force you but I'm gonna be here for you, nesting and feeding you.”

“It hurts.”

“I know.” He sighs pulling away from you, grabbing his phone, your eyes peering over watching him write out a text to Jackson. I’m sorry to bother you during work, I know you hate that, but I really think we should break up. You clearly don’t have the time for a courting relationship, and I can’t handle you being so cold to me. Again I'm sorry for bothering you. But I think this is for the best. It was scent with tear filled eyes as your arms stayed wrapped around his neck, the delivery staying, like it was a tattoo on his phone. It had him scoffing as he dropped his phone and turned into your chest.

“I hate Alphas.”

“Me too.”

“Lets mate so no Alpha will ever fuck with us again.” His words had you snorting as he let out a pain filled giggle against your chest as you ran your hand through his hair, his eyes closing rightly as your mother knocked on the door.

“Sorry to bother you, but Y/n don’t you have work sweetheart.” Her tone was sweet as she lingers at the open door, her eyes falling on the still crying Bambam as you gave her a small smile.

“No, I was given the day off.”

“Oh well, breakfast for the two fo you is in the microwave.” Nodding she gives a small wave in goodbye and shuts your door. The ding of a phone had babam tenseing, but he relaxed, though with a deafeed look when he saw his message was still on delivered. While your phone was showing a new message from Jin. Saying what time he was going to arrive to extache paper work with you.

“Food then back to sleep?”

“Yes.”

_____________________________

Waking up to a pounding on your door, had your eyes snapping open, Bam had taken the spot closest to the wall, under a large pile of blankets. A sweater of yours draping over his skin, lips parted eyes still closed dead asleep. Yet the pounding on your front door awoke you. Slowly moving out of bed you see his phone had twenty missed calls, and too many messages for Jackson not wanting the boy in your bed. Taking a deep breath, you walk out of your room and down the hall to your front door unlocking the deadbolt but leaving the chain hooked. As you open the door, there you see a panting Jackson, his eyes pitch black as he looks at you with a pained expression. His alpha scent was sour, thick, the minty freshness of his scent drowned out by his distress. His pain.

“Please.” He whimpers, his head bowing, neck on show as you shut the door slightly undoing the chain lock and opening the door more. His body stays put as he takes a deep breath in, whining as he drops to his knees. “Kunpimook, please.” Turning your head you see a shuffling Bambam, his eyes red puffy as you step back, Jacksons body dropping to a full bow. Forehead touching the ground as you see Bambam tilt his head, looking to you as you nod for him to follow.  His body slowly drops to the ground pushing Jacksons shoulders back making Jackson whine, his eyes looking at the hand that was placed on his shoulder. “Omega mine.” Jackson mumbles, your body slowly moving back, trying to give the two space but also needing to make sure Bambam was safe. You watch Bambam tilt his head  as Jackson mimicked him, his action following the younger as Bambam gave what you assumed was a tight lipped smile as you watch Jacksons shoulders drop. Head falling forward pressing against Bambam chest as Jackson let out a purr.  “Home.”

“He isn’t talking normally.” Bambam whispers to you, looking at you as you giggle as you move slowly as Jackson wraps his arms around Bambam and growles at you making the omegas jaw go slack as you place your hand over your mouth.

“Just go with it, my mom called it the puppy stage.” your words had Bambam nodding as he looks at you with a frown. “Bam if you want him, go with him. “ He gives you a smile as he pulls from Jackson, who whines as he watches Bambam stan following the Omegas movements as he moves and nuzzles his face into Bambams neck.

“I think you should go. Listen to what they have to say.” He mumbles whe Jackson suddenly lifts the boy in his arms making , Bambam sequel as you giggle. Jackson is moving out of your apartment. “My stuff!”

“Home. Omega home.”

“I’ll bring it to you later.” You call out watching men in suits fall in toe behind the pair as you shake your head and shut your apartment door. A deep breath in.

Should you give them a chance? You wondered, moving to your living room couch, fixing the messy bun your hair was in. Eyes blinking slowly as you take a deep breath in, what bad could come from it?

“A lot.” You state out loud shaking your head as you let out a deep sigh, wrapping yourself into your fathers blanket that your mother kept in the living room. His scent was long gone, yet the memories of him wrapped in the blanket had your eyes water as you nuzzled yourself into the grey fabric. How you longed for the day you could speak to him, he’d know what to do.

“Dad you don't get it!” Your voice echoes through the halls of your home, his body trailing after you as you storm your way into your bedroom, his foot stopping your bedroom door slamming. His brown eyes shone as he looked at you. “Alphas don't understand!”

“Then explain it to me kiddo, please. Why aren’t you eating? Why are you changing your wardrobe? Tell me what that has to do with being an Omega.” His words were full of begging. Pleading as you whine leaving your door, gathering the blankets from your bedroom ground, rushing to your bed as you begin to move around the mattress. “Kid, come on I hate seeing you like this.”

“I’m just doing what any Omega would if no Alpha looked at them Dad, that's all. A diet doesn’t hu-”

“You haven’t eaten in over a week, a weak young lady. I don't want to force my hand and use the Alpha tone on you just so you’d actually eat. Baby I hate seeing you like this.” His words softened as he trailed into your room.

“Just go away dad.” He went silent, then you looked up to see he was gone. Rolling your eyes, you start rearranging  the pillows around your bed, when suddenly your dad's scent wraps around you as he enters your nest. Your eyes widening as you growl to he wraps you in his favorite grey blanket. A bowl of rice and chicken in hand as he shakes his head.

“I’ll never go away, but nice try. Now eat something pup.”

You missed those days, the days he showed up in your bedroom food in hand, blanket in the other making sure you ate. Then you felt comfortable enough during your school days to eat.You missed the days, where you fingers would glide along the keys of a piano, his laughter joining as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. You missed the look in in your mothers eyes when she looked at him, or how he always found her in a room no matter how big, how crowded. You missed their joint laughter as they teased you on your birthdays, or how much your father loved the two of you. Without him it was quiet walls, and lonely nights. It scared you.

It scared you to even think about letting someone love you the way your father did, letting someone see you the way he saw your mother. It terrified you, cause you saw how quickly people leave, they disappear so quickly without a trace, well that's a lie, the only trace is pain. The empty feeling craves in your chest, the sadness that elopes every memory with them. You never knew that the taste of chicken and rice could make you cry, or the smell of lily flowers mixed with an unforgettable spicy could make your chest hurt. How on random days, your body felt as you were in the car again, the car became so scary to you. You never knew you couldn’t listen to a piano without your body shaking, never could understand why music became so sour for you. You're scared to show them why you flinch away from loud noise, all because the flash of a blaring horn rushes through you. How could you put them through that? Dealing with the night terrors and panic attacks on your bad days. You wish you could. You wish you could love them without the fear of losing them.

But isn’t that the part of it all? The chance of losing it all for just one moment of happiness. So, take the risk or don’t.

Tag list:

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 @milopenne  @fauxthephoenix @cuteipat  @lustremyg 

[heyitmelexie]

Confessions

Max Phillips x GN!Reader

Word count: 1406 Warnings: some swear words and indirect mentions of sex Rating: Teen and up (16+)

A/N: Day 14 for @honeymandos​ December Writing Challenge!

It’s 2.30 am for me right now and this one got a little longer than planned. I will try to continue the missing works tomorrow! 

The poem is by Joanna Fuchs and it’s called “Fool For Your Charms”.

Enjoy! :)

---------------------------------

The doorbell rings just as you go to leave your apartment. You know who it is.

Rolling your eyes, you open the door and flash the delivery guy a polite smile before taking the huge, colourful bouquet from his hands. You quickly thank him and close the door again, throwing the bouquet on your counter.

This had started almost twelve months ago. At first it was nice.

A mysterious man sent you beautiful flower arrangements with sweet little notes. Every Monday morning. It had made the start into the week much easier as it put a soft smile on your face.

But now, after almost a year, it was creepy.

You still don’t know who this man is. At first you wondered if it was someone from your workplace. But none of the men ever said anything or made a move that would suggest they were the mysterious man. Only your boss, Max Phillips, consistently flirted with you, trying to get you into his bed. But he wouldn’t do such a sweet thing, he’s just another fuckboy so you didn’t even think him to be the secret admirer once.

So, no one you know and who could know where you live could be this person. It started to scare you.

You don’t pay the flowers any more attention and leave the apartment to go to work.

When you arrive you just flop into your chair next to Tim, not really motivated to sell anything today. You are tired. This mysterious man kept you awake at night, worry clouding your mind.

“You look like shit” Tim says, making you turn your head in his direction.

“I feel like it too” you respond, making him furrow his brows.

“Is everything alright? The bags under your eyes are big enough to help Santa carry his presents around.”

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and shaking your head.

“I think someone stalks me. And I’m scared.”

“Stalks you? Why? What happened?” He looks at you with worried eyes, his usually cheerful expression gone.

“Almost a year ago someone started to send flowers to my apartment. Every Monday morning. I thought it was one of you, but no one made a move or said anything. So no one who can possibly legally know my address could be this person. It has to be a stalker, there’s no other explanation, Tim. And it scares me. What if it’s a killer? Or a weirdo who plans to kidnap me and forces me to marry him?” You sigh, dropping your head onto the desk.

“Have you contacted the police yet?” he asks, to which you respond with shaking your head no.

“It’s just flowers. Nothing threatening. They would tell me they can’t do anything anyway. It would be a waste of time.” He nods, trying to think of another solution.

Little did you know that Max had heard everything you just told Tim. And it would make his heart clench if he had one.

He had never meant to scare you. Romantic gestures are not his area of expertise but he thought this would be nice, even with the little notes and sometimes short poems attached to the flowers. But the fact that it started to scare you and made you think you had a stalker made him feel bad.

He walks over to your desk, deciding to confess to you so you, hopefully, wouldn’t be scared anymore. He should have done this earlier anyway, it has been almost a year.

But Max Phillips was scared.

“Hey Sugar, can I have a word with you in my office, please?” He flashes you a bright smile, making you roll your eyes at yet another one of his unsuccessful attempts to flirt with you.

“Sure” you say, before you get out of your chair and walk to into his office.

He follows you and then locks the door once you’re in. Max even closes the blinds, making you think you might have messed up.

“Did I do anything wrong?” He shakes his head and then gestures for you to sit down in the chair in front of his desk. You do so and he walks around to lean against the edge of his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest.

“You don’t have a stalker, Sugar.”

You blink up at him, frowning.

“Wha- How do you-“

“Vampire.” Oh. Right.

“But how can you be so sure it’s not a stalker? It’s definitely not you-“

“It is me. It has always been me” he says, looking anywhere but at you.

“Yeah, sure. Stop fucking around. We both know that’s not true. You’re just saying that so I’d stop worrying because it influences my work.” You huff and get up to leave but he puts a hand on your arm to stop you.

“I’m serious. This is not something I would joke about” he says. You had never seen him this serious and it makes you wonder…

“Prove it then. What was the first bouquet I received?”

He smiles a smile you had never seen on his face before. One that makes the skin around his eyes crinkle slightly. One that actually reaches his eyes. A true smile.

“It was an arrangement of eleven white roses and six red lilies. The note attached said: ‘Every day with you gives me a thrill; All my dreams you richly fulfil. I’m a fool for your charms; You belong in my arms; Love me, please say that you will.’”

You stare at him in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide. He knew about the note. You never said anything about a note. Could it really be...

“You?” Max Phillips, the man who fucks anything that has two legs, sent you flowers for almost a year? And basically confessed his love to you with every bouquet? No fucking way.

Max just nods, then sighs before letting go of your arm.

“I never meant to scare you. I’m… bad at these things. Even before I was turned. I thought this would make you happy and that you’d figure out it was me. I gave you so many hints. The flirting should have been the most obvious…”

He is right, he was very obvious but you never thought it would actually be him. His annoying flirtatious behaviour drowned out the fact that you had always thought he was unbelievably handsome. His aquiline nose, the sharp jaw and those brown eyes that managed to be warm and alive despite him being technically dead.

You look at him, dumbfounded. Unsure how to react to his confession.

“I don’t expect you to love me back. I know I’m… difficult. And I probably messed up really badly…” He sighs, turning away to go and unlock the door.

“Wait” you grab his arm, making him look back at you, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“I can’t say I love you, I barely really know you. I tried not to think about you too much, I wanted to keep myself from being hurt. But… yes, the gesture was really sweet. I actually loved to receive these flowers every Monday. Made the day a little better…” You smile slightly at him and see how relieved he is.

“I know I don’t appear to be serious about relationships. And a year ago that was true. But then you stepped into my life and when I saw you it felt like you just turned my whole world upside down. I… want to try. For you. I might live forever but I don’t want to spend eternity in thousands of different bedrooms. My heart doesn’t beat anymore but that doesn’t mean I can exist without being loved…”

“Oh Max…” you whisper, taking his hands into yours and giving him a gentle smile. This is a side of him you would have never thought existed.

“Please give me a chance. I don’t deserve it but I beg you, just one chance. If you still don’t want me after that, then I will leave you alone, I promise” he says, looking at you with such puppy eyes it makes your heart clench.

“Of course” you gently squeeze his hands, making his eyes shoot up at you in surprise and relief.

“Really?” he whispers, a huge smile slowly forming on his face.

“Really” you giggle. His whole face lights up and he flashes you a big grin. But this time it doesn’t annoy you.

“Friday night, 7pm?”

-------------------------

@absurdthirst​ @tangledlove27​ @kandomeresbitch 

[guessimwritingficsagain]

To Be Seen, Part Seven

Warnings : depression

Author's note : I based my depiction of Frankie's wife on the movie Laggies that I mentioned before. It's not exactly the same thing but I liked the way the mom was depicted in the movie and how, in the end, everybody made mistakes. I'm still very sad Lynn Shelton left us. So I guess, in a way, this is dedicated to her.

Chapter One ; Chapter Two ; Chapter Three ; Chapter Four ; Chapter Five ; Chapter Six

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Two weeks later, you broke down. You’d felt it coming, used as you were to that grey cloud slowly sneaking its way into your brain. You called in sick on a Saturday night and turned off your phone, not even feeling guilty about that.

Linda had had her meeting with her ex, and they’d both been tentatively hanging out, trying to fix something that was so broken you didn’t know if there was ever a chance it could be fixed. You’d stayed out of the way, of course. You hadn’t spoken to Linda except for the occasional text to check on her. That left a sinking feeling in your stomach, one that came with the realization that even though you considered Linda your friend, you were also her ex, first and foremost, and though she didn’t mind poking into your love life, she seemed reluctant for you to know about hers. Even though you couldn’t really blame her, that heaviness never went away. That was the first sign.

Jessie’s story was something else altogether. James and Will had set up a tight sleeping schedule at Jessie’s house - a tight schedule of following her to work and staying with her all day, too. Will had involved all the boys except Frankie. They were taking turn watching her, making sure she and her kid were safe. You’d managed to talk them out of going to the guy’s place and beating him up - barely. But you knew that couldn’t last. The way Will had vibrated when you explained the situation told you everything you needed to know about that. Talking to Jessie hadn’t been easy either, because she’d first shut you out completely and resented her brother for telling you, you for telling Will, and Will for telling everybody else. That was understandable too, but things were tense between the two of you, and since none of the men wanted to include you in what you called the Jessie Watch in your head, you were left to watch and worry from afar.

But the worst thing was the complete and utter silence from Frankie. He wouldn’t answer your texts or your calls. You kept replaying the only phone call he’d answered to just like you’d kept replaying the moment he’d offered you wine and chocolates for Christmas - God, you wished you could go back to that time.

You dial his phone number, hoping he picks up. He does, starting with :

‘Listen, now’s not a good time. I’m sorry but I got some things to deal with right now. I’ll call you back.’

Unnerved by the tone of his voice, unnerved by his answer, and thinking we don’t even see each other anymore and I thought you liked me and trusted me you bluntly answer :

‘Pope told me.’

The silence on the other end in unbearable, so you continue :

‘Frankie, talk to me. Don’t shut me out, please.’

You’re begging, and you don’t care that you are.

‘It’s fine.’ He eventually mumbles, his voice unconvincing. ‘I’ll sort this out. I just need some time.’

Some time was more than two weeks apparently, and two weeks was your breaking point.

You felt alone in a way you’d never felt before.

That led you here, right to this moment, you opening a bottle of wine, all by yourself. You sat on your couch, and drank a glass. Then, a second. By the third, you were turning on your phone and dialing your mother. When she picked up, you completely broke down. After the phone call, exhausted by all the crying, you left your phone on the couch and went to bed. The battery was empty when you woke up the next morning, feeling puffy and barely keeping it together. You didn’t bother to plug it in.

As agreed upon the night before, your father picked you up a bit before noon. Starbuck was in her bag, and you’d thrown some clothes in a luggage. You felt a wave of relief wash over you when you put it in your childhood’s bedroom, Starbuck already carefully sniffing around the house. You called your boss to ask to use all of the vacation days you had. You didn’t know what deity to thank for the fact that he agreed. You knew it was all wrong. You knew you should be here for Jessie, for everyone. You father covered that : he went to Anna and Phil, told them about the situation and made them promise not to say a word.

You had three weeks of vacation, and nothing to do but pretend you were a teenager again, living with your parents.

Your father kept in touch with Phil and Anna, if only to get news about what was going on with your friends. At the end of the first week, he came back with a letter. You felt yourself shaking until he added :

‘It’s from Anna.’

He heard your sigh of relief but didn’t say a word, turning around to leave you in peace. As he got to the door, though, he turned around and announced :

‘One of these days, I’m gonna have to have a talk with that boy of yours.’

He looked tired, and worried. Your voice wavered as you answered :

‘You won’t have to if he’s not my boy anymore, Dad.’

You felt like crying, but you didn’t. You turned your attention to the letter instead, and smiled at the first line. Anna had taken to give you your own nickname every time you compared her to Jane from Pride and Prejudice.

Dear Elizabeth,

How long and lonely are the days without you. Our dear cook is not quite himself, since you’ve been away, as he has to endure me without you to soothe the pain in his ass that I am. The counter has lost its light, and even the birds seem to sing in a more quiet manner, as if they were missing their dear friend too.

I hope your dear feline companion Starbuck is doing well in her new surroundings. I do not worry much, though: change can be difficult, but she is anything but faint-hearted.

I will keep writing to you, dear Elizabeth, if only to let you know if a respectable gentleman of good fortune ever comes in to charm me. You must promise, though, that you shall write back.

Your Jane.

The letter was so sweet and thoughtful , with Anna’s clumsy attempt at sounding Jane Austen-ish, you finally cried, only this time, the tears were not all bitter. You could call her, but this seemed more fun. You fumbled around to find a piece of paper and picked up a pen.

Dear Jane,

How sweet of you to write to me. I cannot express how much I miss you too. Do not worry about Phil, for he is softer for you than you know. I am sure you are quite exaggerating to hasten my return. Alas, I will remain where I am, for I find this retreat is beneficial to my health.

Starbuck has taken to her new life quite readily, and is currently enjoying a lovely nap in the sun.

Guard your feelings well, my dear. Experience has taught us much in this matter, recently.

I’m writing a return address on the back, so you can write to me through the post-office and avoid my poor father the task of being the delivery man.

Your Elizabeth.

You left the house for the first time this week to mail the letter.

Those three weeks went by like this.

You learnt that Linda and her ex had called it quits for good. You learnt that Will eventually drove to Jessie’s now-ex-boyfriend’s house and beat the shit out of him, and that everybody watched it happen with glee. You learnt that Frankie’s ex-wife was still in town. Staying on the couch.

You wanted to throw up all the time, these days.

You still didn’t turn on your phone. You used your parents’ line to get an appointment to the doctor. The woman only had to look at you to say :

‘Yeah, you’re not going back to work.’

You knew what she meant : you barely recognized yourself when you looked in the mirror. You didn’t sleep much, you didn’t eat much, and it all showed. When you came home, your father hesitantly said :

‘They’re starting to be worried. They’re asking a lot of questions to Anna.’

You found that you didn’t care, and a little voice at the back of your head warned you that this was worrying but you ignored it. It was so easy not to think. You enjoyed the feeling - maybe a little too much, said the voice again. You ignored it again. You were standing on that fine line : you were aware that you weren’t fine, but you weren’t doing anything about it. You knew it would only take a push to bring you to the other side : and then, you wouldn’t be aware anymore that you were not fine.

‘I got two weeks more.’ You answered instead.

———

You hadn’t seen Frankie in five weeks.

You’d been feeling better, lately, but still considered going back to work. And by that you meant going back to work at all, ever again. You weren’t good at facing your problems, you knew that, and that whole existential crisis about your future sounded a lot like running away but you didn’t have the strength to face anything right now. You wanted Frankie and your friends to make some king of grand gesture while knowing they didn’t have the means to reach you. You knew that was ridiculous and a little bit fucked up. You kept at it anyway.

Anna visited you more and more. The first time she’d shown up unannounced, she looked so hesitant it broke your heart. You’d hugged her so hard and she’d given it back the same way. She took to showing up in the morning, when your parents were on their daily stroll, though she happily stayed for lunch. Your parents, of course, adored her.

So, that morning, when someone rang at the door, you expected it to be her. You realized your mistake the second you opened it. You took a step back, speechless, and Will and Santi used your surprise to push past you and come in, very much uninvited.

On autopilot, your brain pretty much gone, you turned around and just stared at them. They stared right back, Pope with a hard look on his face. Will, though, looked like he wanted to hug you but didn’t dare. He seemed to struggle for a minute, before opening with :

‘Benny is very upset you missed his last fight. It was a big one.’

You found your tongue, even if it felt heavy in your mouth.

‘Well, I’ve been…’

‘You’ve been what ?’ Interrupted Santi, his arms crossed and his gaze unforgiving. ‘Ignoring us for five weeks ?’

‘My phone is dead.’

‘For five weeks ? Cut the crap.’

‘How did you find me ?’

You crossed your arms too. Whatever reunion you’d imagined, that wasn’t it. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in and you were trying to get angry, because if you got angry, then you wouldn’t break down. You could feel the tension building up your spine, knew exactly what it meant too : that conversation was not going to go well because whatever happened, whatever your reaction would be, the part of your brain labeled stupid and self-destructive was going to take over.

‘How did you find me ?’ You repeated, your fingers digging into the flesh of your arms to try and ground you.

Apparently, though, your brain wasn’t the only one with a part labeled stupid because instead of answering the question, Pope just decided to go with :

‘Do you realize how Jessie feels ? Do you realize how we all feel ? We had to take care of your friend, your friend because you just bailed on us while her fucking ex-boyfriend was beating the shit out of her.’

The silence that followed was heavy, as you could feel both the anger coming off of Santi and the panic that was shaking Will. Your voice was cold, emotionless, as you answered :

‘I was there. Except nobody wanted me there. I was completely useless.’

‘Bullshit. So what, you disappear ? Jesus, Frankie must have a thing for women who pull that kind of stunt because you’re the second one. The boy’s not very smart, apparently.’

‘Pope.’ Will’s voice rang loud in your ears, but you were frozen to the spot. You wanted to answer with some smartass remark, something petty along the line of well she’s back now, so who needs me anyway, just to get back at Santi because you knew in your heart Frankie wouldn’t just leave you like that. You knew there was more to the story but Frankie had completely shut you out before you went off the grid and now Santi was in front of you, scolding you as if you were a child, the whole thing feeling too much and not real at all, like you were having a really bad nightmare.

Pope ignored Will’s warning and went on :

‘You know the worst part ? He’s so worried he’s going crazy right now. We’re fucking back to square one, when I had to pick up the pieces when the other one left.’

‘Pope, stop.’ You heard Will say.

You opened your mouth, just a reflex, because your brain was empty. You couldn’t think anymore. But you opened your mouth anyway and realized too late you wouldn’t be able to contain the sob crawling up your throat. Breaking down it is, then, was your last thought before you started crying and shaking uncontrollably. So you ran to your room, leaning on the walls to avoid falling.

You were crying so hard you didn’t hear the door open, some time later. You felt the bed dip, though, when someone sat next to you.

‘Go away.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Will’s voice answered as a hand went to your hair. ‘Come on, deep breaths. Everything’s gonna be okay but I need you to breathe, okay ?’

Your hand shot up to grab his arm in a steely grip to steady yourself. You complied, though. After a while, you felt like you could breathe again. Will’s hand kept stroking your hair as he started talking :

‘Listen, Pope’s an asshole, we all know that. Anna briefed me a bit about everything. She wasn’t the one who gave us your address, by the way. I swear, the woman is unbreakable. Linda just figured you might be at your parents’ house and we looked it up. I’m a bit ashamed it took us that long to think about it, honestly.’

He chuckled, and went on :

‘Anyway, listen. Frankie’s been really overwhelmed by his ex coming back, and he didn’t react well, though I must say you answered in kind but I get it. He told me how he kept you out of the loop and I know how hard that must have been for you because I can see how much you care about him. It’s so obvious, the two of you. It was even before anything happened. I know Frankie is, you know, the quiet one, and he’s not all sharp angles and shit like the rest of us, but he turns into a puddle when you’re here. He’s unburdened when you’re around. We used to give him shit because he wouldn’t talk to the cute bartender.’

You smiled, still not looking at Will, but he was looking at you and he saw it.

‘Remember when he came to ask you, for Maria’s birthday ? We made him do it. Benny taunted him. He said that if he had to get up and ask you that, he’d also get your phone number and a date with you.’

‘I’d never go on a date with Benny.’ You replied, your voice hoarse.

‘Yeah, you’re smarter than that. Remember the Christmas presents ? Frankie was having a bloody existential crisis over this. He wanted to buy you a book. Linda gave him ideas but he was freaking out because he was scared he was going to buy you a book you wouldn’t like. I actually had to text Jessie about your favorite wine and get Frankie to go shopping with me so he would stop freaking out. Pretty sure I’ve never seen him stressed out like that and we served together.’

‘You already had Jessie’s number ?’ You asked, pretty sure Jessie would have told you right away about that.

His voice grew quiet, thoughtful.

‘Yeah. I had asked for her number one day. But I was really drunk so I never used it. Figured she’d given it to me because she felt obligated or something since I was a regular. I thought I was taking advantage. If I had made a move earlier …’

You turned your head towards Will, then, knowing you looked like a mess and not caring one bit.

‘What happened is not your fault, Will.’

And then, it hit you.

‘Wait, earlier ? That means you did it ?’

His smile was blinding. You squeezed his arm.

‘Good for you.’

You both fell silent for a moment but Will wasn’t done.

‘Listen, that thing with Frankie’s ex, it’s not what you think, even though he’s been an idiot for not telling you. Wendy came back because she’s lost. She thinks she made a mistake, leaving like that, and she’s still trying to figure out if she wants to be a mom. It’s not about Frankie and her, okay ? It’s about Maria. She wants to try, maybe. She still doesn’t know. Pope shouldn’t have talked to you like that but he’s right : Catfish is lost right now, because he misses you and he doesn’t know how to fix it. He’s too damn respectful to show up here unannounced, too. That’s why we came.’

He kept stroking your hair as your mind processed everything.

When you left the room, Santi was waiting in the garden. You went over to him and hugged him. He whispered apologies in your ear.

-------------------

Taglist :

@pedritobalmando @ubri8

[sentient-stove]

DiGiornos, Delivery and Desperate Measures:(SnowDice’s Cuffed Universe.)

So @snowdice has a comfort series of mine and so I wrote fanfic for it.  Here’s an AO3 link to the original series. (x)

Anyway, there’s a running gag that Logan and Remus are the reason why Virgil keeps getting fired from deadend jobs.  So I wrote a bit with it.  Enjoy! 

Fandom: Sanders Sides, SnowDice’s Cuffed Universe.

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Remus

Relationships: Platonic(?) Virgil/Logan/Remus

Additional Tags: Food mentions, locking someone in a closet, Sexual jokes

Word Count: 1421

Summary: Virgil delivers pizza to the wrong house.  Everything from there goes downhill from there.

AO3

Virgil honestly had lost count at this point at how many jobs Logan and Remus had indirectly made him lose.  Or directly in the case of the art shop and Target.

But nothing could go wrong with delivering pizzas for Dominos.  Nothing.  He’d been doing this for two weeks now and nothing had gone wrong, which was a bit of a record at this point and so when Virgil got a delivery slip for some place on the other side of the city, he thought it was weird, why order from this location when there was another Domino’s closer, but whatever.

Yeah, he was really wrong on that part.

…

Virgil rang the doorbell, as per the instructions on the receipt and when the door opened, he was greeted by a confused man.

“Dominos for Hatcher?”

The man blinked and Virgil sighed.  “There was a pizza asked to be delivered here, can you just take them and sign the paper?  They’ve already been paid for.”

“I think you have the wrong address.”

“Fuck.” Virgil turned away and the man’s hand clamped down on his shoulder before he could move away.

“Maybe you should come inside.”

“I’d rather fucking not.”  Virgil responded as the man tugged him back.

He probably would have gotten away if he hadn’t been holding three pizzas.  Unfortunately for Virgil, he was dragged inside and the door was slammed shut.

…

From the car that he had been in for the past day, Remus cursed.  Virgil really had the worst case of luck.  He’d been watching this house to hopefully see a deal go down, after all, he’d been following this trail for a few weeks now, but now he had to add abducted pizza deliverer to the list.

…

 Logan was pulling DiGiorno's out of his hideout’s oven after the first pizza that he ordered hadn’t shown up, which was aggravating, but he shouldn’t have trusted Dominos.  Either way it didn’t matter, because he was heading out tomorrow morning to the next job he had.   He didn’t have any plates here, so he opted to fold some paper towels and use that.

He was on his second slice when the doorbell rang.  Logan got up with his pizza slice and meandered to the door, idly wondering if it was the Dominos order.

He opened the door.

“Remus.  You said a forty two hour truce.  I still have fourteen hours.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not here to arrest you, scoot.” Remus pushed past him and entered the bare house, Logan closing the door as the officer made his way to the kitchen and stole a slice of pizza.

“Why are you here?”

“I was on a stakeout, mostly waiting out the truce time and I saw your dumbass of a ex boyfriend get pegged.”

Logan blinked.  “I’ve never had an ex.  Why are you watching porn at work?”

Remus sighed.  “Oh my god, how are you somehow the smartest and the dumbest person I know?  I was doing a stakeout, and I saw Virgil trying to do his job- he delivers pizzas now- and the person who ordered it dragged him inside and he’s probably still in there.”

Logan’s eye twitched.  “Okay.”

“Wanna help me get him back?”  Remus took a bite of Logan’s pizza and nodded.  “This is good.”

“Why don’t you just arrest them?” “They technically haven’t done anything illegal yet, that’s why I was watching the place.”

“I can’t even come up with the words to describe what I want to do with you.”

“Kinky.”

“Nevermind, I want to acquaint your face with a chair.  Repeatedly.”  Logan muttered.

“Still kinky.”

…

“If I had a nickel for everytime I got tied up and locked in a closet, I’d have two nickels.”  Virgil said cheekily as the nameless dude handcuffed him to a shelving unit.

“Shut up.”

“I mean like, you really didn’t have to drag me in here.  I’m really tired of people getting me fired for doing my job.”

“I will not hesitate to gag you.”

Virgil shrugged.  “You would not be the first.”

“Looks like I’ll be the first to make sure you don’t get out.”

Virgil froze.  “Woah, hold up.  I’ve been through some shit, please just let me go at the end.  I’d really rather not die in a dusty closet. I won’t snitch.”

The man said nothing, but he shoved a handkerchief in Virgil’s mouth and then tied a rope around his head, effectively making it so he couldn’t work out the gag.

Remus would probably find this hot.   Virgil thought miserably as the guy left, shutting the door and throwing him into darkness.

…

When Remus and Logan pulled up a few houses away from the one that Virgil was apparently in, Logan sighed.

“Are you serious?”

“What?”

“I had a job over here.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  Remus thunked his head against the steering wheel.  “I swear if we get Virgil fired again…”

“Our current problem is that we need to make sure that he’s fine.  Minimum wage jobs aside, I move that we wait for them to leave, see if they take him with them and if not, we go in and search to see if he’s still there.  If they take him, you can charge them with abduction and my job will be done.”  Logan pulled out his most recent laptop as Remus looked at him incredulously.

“Aren’t you worried they’ll kill him, they’re drug dealers.”

Logan didn’t bother to look up.  “No.  I’ve been tapping money from these guys for a while, they usually just leave people behind to die of natural causes.”

“What.”

“I make sure they’re found before they die.  I’m a criminal, not a monster Remus.”  Logan snapped.

…

Virgil lost track of time, but he was dead exhausted by the time the closet door opened and he looked up to see Logan.

“Remus, found him!”  Logan called out the door before turning and crouching in front of him.  “Are you okay?”

Virgil glared and Logan blinked a few times before realizing why he couldn’t speak.

“Sorry.  One moment.”  he untied the rope and Virgil spat out the handkerchief.

“Why is it always you two?”  He hissed out and Logan sighed.

“I am sorry that you keep getting caught up in our escapades.”

“I’m tired Logan.  Really, really tired.  Can you guys just unlock me and leave so I can go get fired again and also sleep.  I don’t know how long I’ve been stuck here.”

“About a day.”  Remus’ voice interrupted before Logan could answer as he crammed himself into the closet to crouch next to Logan.  “Nice place you got here.”

“Remus.”

“What Lo?  It’s better than some of the other places we’ve left and found Pizza Man.”

All three of them shuddered.

Remus reached forward with some sort of key, unlocking Virgil’s handcuffs and freeing him from the shelving.   Virgil rubbed at his wrists and shook his arms to get some of the feeling back.   

“I didn’t even see either of you this time, how the fuck did this happen?” “Logan was stalking them.”

“Remus, you were here first.  And to be honest, neither of us directly had a part in this.  You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Virgil sighed and rested the back of his head against the shelf that he had been handcuffed to.  “God, kill me.”

“I’d rather not.  Do you need to be carried out?”  Logan gently asked as he brushed a bit of Virgil’s hair from his face.

“Nah, I may be exhausted, but I should probably drive the Dominos car back to the place before I get charged with theft.”  Virgil waved his hand, prompting Logan and Remus to stand and take a few steps back so he could get off the ground.

“I didn’t really like the blue anyway, but I’m not really ecstatic to have to go job searching again.  I’m starting to run out of places that’ll hire me.”

And with that, he pushed past Logan and Remus, exiting the house and leaving the pair to stare at each other.

Remus scuffed at the floor with a toe.  “So, uh… I’ll give you fourteen hours?”

Logan shrugged.  “Sure.  I’m going to make sure that Virgil gets home without falling asleep.”

“Okay.  See you next time we inevitably cross paths and get Virgil fired again.”

Logan nodded, took a half step towards Remus, decided against whatever he was going to do and turned, leaving the officer to close the closet door.

[emy-loves-you]

Wrong Numbers and Useless Gays Chapter 10

Protective Snek meets Tired Boi (With Flowers!)

Chapter 9 | Masterlist | Chapter 11

Warnings: crying, mentions of sex, mentions of lying and mistrust

(Jan 2nd)

V- (10:20 AM) Hey Pat, what do you want for your birthday?

P- (10:21 AM) I don’t need anything big, Kiddo. Just another drawing from you would be amazing :)

V- (10:21 AM) Is there nothing that you would be happy with me buying you?

P- (10:22 AM) Well, I like flowers!

L- (10:22 AM) No you don’t. None of us have gardening skills and you cry every time they wilt.

P- (10:22 AM) I still like them! We’ll just have to try harder this time!

Virgil thought for a few minutes before smirking. He exited the chat and opened up a chat with Janus and Remus.

V- (10:23 AM) Do either of you have the staff contacts from that charity event 2 months ago?

J- (10:23 AM) Perhaps

Re- (10:23 AM) Y the hell do you want them?

V- (10:24 AM) Do you remember the flowers that they were selling? I want to contact whoever they bought them from.

J- (10:24 AM) You mean like the one that Remus bought for me?

V- (10:25 AM) Yes, but less obscene colors.

Re- (10:25 AM) Wait let me guess

Re- (10:26 AM) “Princey’s” birthday was in July and “Lo” doesn’t seem like the flower type, so this is for “Pat,” isn’t it?

V- (10:26 AM) Do you have the fucking contact or not?

J- (10:27 AM) Even better. I have the address

V- (10:27 AM) Why the fuck do you have the address?

J- (10:27 AM) Remus TOTALLY didn’t break the original flower as soon as we got home.

Re- (10:28 AM) HEY! I tripped on YOUR stupid rug and it happened to end up crushed underneath me!

J- (10:28 AM) LEAVE THE RUG OUT OF THIS!

Virgil chuckled, eventually breaking up their argument so he could get the phone number and address. Once he had it, he called the shop and ordered a custom-made bouquet. They told him that it would be ready for pick-up in 2 weeks. He turned back to his crush’s chat.

V- (10:29 AM) Just finished ordering your gift.

P- (10:29 AM) What is it?!

V- (10:30 AM) It’s a surprise! Oh, and do you still have the vase that your chocolate bouquet was in?

P- (10:30 AM) Yeah, why?

V- (10:30 AM) You may wanna have it empty on your birthday :)

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(January 16th)

“So, where are we going?” Remus asked, chugging the rest of his Pepsi.

“To get Virgil’s flowers, darling. We’ve been over this.” Janus replied, adjusting his rearview mirror. Virgil laid in the back, fast asleep. Janus sighed. Virgil never got enough sleep, in his opinion. It was difficult to get Virgil fully asleep by 4 AM, and even then he was usually awake by 9 AM. Ever since he met his new “crushes,” Virgil had been getting better with his sleeping habits ( “Lo’s been trying to rope me into their sleeping schedule,” Virgil had admitted with a blush ); but he still didn’t sleep enough, in Janus’ humble opinion.

Speaking of crushes, Janus focused his eyes on the empty road as he thought about the three men who had stolen his best friend's heart. Pat, Lo, and Princey, Virgil called them. Not much to work with in terms of name, and no physical characteristics either. Janus was halfway convinced to stalk them (he knew where they lived, after all) but the thought of Virgil hating him for it shut up those thoughts immediately. Virgil already dealt with a ton of Janus bullshit without complaint, the least he could do is honor Virgil’s wish to keep his crushes anonymous. Even though Janus had no physical description to work off of, Virgil's offhand comments were enough for Janus to paint a decent picture of them.

"Princey," the first one that Virgil met. Extremely dramatic, probably light-headed and egotistical. The one that Janus ordered a katana for. A fucking katana. Why would he want a katana of all things? And those nicknames. His nicknames for Virgil were worse than Remus’, and that’s saying something. Though he was kind to Virgil in their interactions; at least, that’s what Virgil told him. Janus would have to keep a close eye on this one.

“Pat,” the one they were going to pick up flowers for. The so-called “Dad Friend” of the group. Called Virgil “Kiddo.” Mother-henned the shit out of him. Even though Virgil was their Sugar Daddy, Janus wouldn’t be surprised if they called Pat “Daddy” in bed. On the other hand, some of the things that Virgil said spoke otherwise. Pat’s love of stuffed animals, his goofy puns, his opinion against swearing; he sounded like a child in an adult body. An oxymoron, and someone that Janus will also have to keep an eye on.

And “Lo.” Possibly the one that Janus trusted the least out of the trio. Extremely serious. Chocolate addict. Has a fucking sleep schedule for his boyfriends. Probably a control freak. Works part-time at the library. Goes to the local college. More interested in space than the world around him. Probably even more egotistical than Princey. Spends the majority of his time arguing with others or chastising Virgil for spending money on them. Most likely to upset Virgil. One that Janus would definitely be keeping an eye on.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened. He would not let them hurt Virgil. And if they somehow did, well…

Some of Father’s old associates could still prove useful. They at least knew how to hide a body. Or three.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(January 17th)

Janus triple-checked the address, making sure that he was at the right house. Virgil had needed a safe way to ship these flowers to Pat’s house without Pat finding out OR one of his crushes seeing his face. So, Janus agreed to be his delivery boy. It made sense; Deceit wore the most makeup AND he hissed every other line, so it was near impossible to be recognized out-of-costume. And if Janus got a good look at Virgil’s crushes… well, Virgil wasn’t here now, was he? Janus set the bouquet on the middle of the porch; far enough for the person to not accidentally knock it over on their way outside, but close enough to where it would be noticed and not accidentally fall off the edge. He tapped the door three times with the back of his knuckles and quickly turned around, making a beeline for his car. He intended on getting a glimpse of the man’s face as he drove away, hopefully seeing enough to be able to spot him off the college roster-

“Wait!” Janus stopped dead in his tracks. He didn’t expect him to be that fast. There was a moment of silence before Janus heard a sigh. “You’re not Virgil, are you?”

He smirked. “Yes, I’m definitely Virgil. I just decided to knock on your door and increase the chances of you seeing me when I could’ve just texted me.”

The man sighed again. “You must be Janus, then. I assume that since you arrived specifically when Patton wouldn’t be home today, you came to drop off his birthday present.” There was a slight pause, probably meant for Janus to respond. Suddenly. There was a soft “Oh.” Janus couldn’t take it anymore; he turned around and his jaw dropped.

The man was tall, taller than any of the Dark Sides. He had dark brown hair, brushed neatly out of his face. He wore a pair of square glasses, which perfectly framed his dark blue eyes. He wore a black button-up shirt and dark wash jeans. A navy blue tie hung loosely around his neck. But what caught Janus’ attention was the look of pure adoration on his face as he looked at the flowers on the porch. His face was so open and kind, something that Janus never expected him to look like. Is this the look that Janus gave Remus when they were alone? If so, Janus now understood why Virgil didn’t want to be in their relationship. Just the look on Lo’s face was enough to make Janus feel excluded from their relationship. Suddenly, the adoration turned to a more mischievous look. “That’s why he wanted Patton to clean out that vase,” he said fondly, before shaking his head. “Do I even want to know how much Virgil spent on this?”

“Nope.” Janus made sure to keep his voice nonchalant, not showing any sign of weakness. He watched curiously as Logan did the same, schooling his expression before looking up at Janus. His eyes briefly flickered over to Janus’ scar, but other than that he paid no mind to it. Janus felt something rise within him; whether respect or irritation, he couldn’t tell. “Now’s the time where I must ask: what are your intentions with Virgil?” He made sure to keep an even tone, not wanting to influence Lo’s response.

Lo blinked, looking almost surprised, before his eyes dropped back to the flowers. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “On one hand, Virgil is an amazing person that I’ve now known for several months. I know that the others have wanted to ask him to join our relationship for a while. On the other hand, we know very little about him. Unless Virgil inherited this money, there’s no possible way that his only profession is commissioning art. What else has he lied about? How can I trust him, much less love him, if I don’t know when he’s lying to me?”

Janus slowly raised his left hand, using his right to cover his heart. “My name is Janus Williams. I swear to you my full honesty. Ask me anything that you don’t believe other than Virgil’s profession, and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

Lo rubbed a hand against his face- fuck, the guy was actually crying. “That’s the problem. I want to believe him; I want to read his texts and not feel even the slightest bit of skepticism. I want to eagerly accept him into our relationship, no questions asked. But I can’t!” He looked back up at Janus, the look in his eyes something that will pierce Janus’ soul for a long time. “I’ve spent the past 8 years taking care of my boyfriends. I can’t have Virgil hurt them, accidentally or on purpose! I will do anything to keep them safe, even if it means keeping Virgil away.”

Janus sighed, pitying the man in front of him. “Would you like some advice, Lo?” At Lo’s nod, he turned to walk away. “Virgil has no intention of ever harming you. He originally lied to you so that he wouldn’t get hurt or used. He’s never had to tell anyone this secret, and he’s never been one to easily trust others. I know you’ve already waited a long time, but please, be patient. He’ll come to you when he’s ready, I swear.” And with that, Janus got in his car and drove away. Once he got to the nearest available parking spot (located at a sickeningly sweet bakery) he pulled out his phone to text Virgil.

J- (2:12 PM) Package delivered

V- (2:12 PM) Thanks, man. Did they see you?

Janus paused. Should he tell Virgil about their encounter? Something told him that Lo wouldn’t mention their interaction to Virgil. If he did, then Janus would come clean. If not…

J- (2:13 PM) No, Virgil. The secret identities of your boy toys are safe.

V- (2:13 PM) Cool. I’ll let them know that it’s there.

And with that, Janus drove back home, where he can watch shitty romcoms and hopefully forget about the tired look in Lo’s eyes.

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P- (5:04 PM) Oh my gosh, I love these Kiddo!

R- (5:04 PM) What did he get you?

P- (5:05 PM) [*Photo Attachment*]

[The photo shows the light blue vase that Patton’s chocolate bouquet was in. The vase was filled with beautiful glass roses. They were mainly clear, with the tips of each petal either red, navy blue, sky blue, or violet.]

V- (5:05 PM) Now you can have flowers that'll never die. Happy Birthday, Pat.

P- (5:06 PM) Thank you SO much, Virgil!

V- (5:06 PM) :)

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Taglist: @bisexualdisaster106 @self-taught-mess @itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @sanderssides-angst

[soft-sunflower]

Flower of Evil Thoughts: Part 1- Episode 11

OKAY. FIRST OF ALL. WAS I RIGHT OR WAS I RIGHT? ABOUT MANY THINGS. I KNEW we were in for a massive emotional blow from Hyunsoo. I KNEW we were in for getting our hearts utterly wrecked by him and Jiwon. I know mine is. I KNEW who the accomplice was. I just... KNEW. I love that so many of my theories were correct from the get go. Alright, on we go to this week's episode thought post made by yours truly.

Alright so, we begin our episode at the hospital. OMG!!! Our little baby girl Eunha had just been born!!! Jiwon is overcome with all kinds of emotion. One of the things she says is "I'm grateful that she made it." It makes me wonder if there were complications during Eunha being delivered? Hyunsoo is trying to understand the reason for his wife's tears, and expresses to her that he's worried when she asks what's on his mind. I have a pretty good idea of what he's worried about, but obviously he cannot say this to Jiwon.

"What if she doesn't like me?" Translates to

"What if she resents having me for her father? What if she ends up like me, unable to express or understand emotions? What if she ends up like my father? What if she doesn't have your personality? What if I fail her the way I was failed growing up?"

Of course he can't say this because he doesn't even really know nor understand it himself.  Then their baby girl starts to cry. Hyunsoo looks curiously at her and asks Jiwon

"Why did she suddenly burst into tears?"

Jiwon explains she probably shares their feelings.

"There's a lot she wants to say, but she can't put it into words yet."

I feel like this is important to pay attention to. A lot she wants to say, but can't put it into words and this is why she's crying. Hmmm...

Alright, so back to Haesoo discovering the green bracelet back when the hospital opened, and she hears a strange sound outside. I have to admit, when she ripped open the curtains, it gave me a jumpscare haha. I thought something BAD was gonna be out there waiting for her! They sure do a good job at keeping the suspense up! I wasn't sure what was going to happen. lol You never can tell in this drama. It's always got me on my toes. Haesoo is getting closer and closer to the accomplice. She can feel it. I can too, but it has me worried.

OKAY so, we finally pick back up at the scene in present-day for Jiwon where last week's episode ended with Detective Choi Jaeseop confronting Jiwon about Do Hyunsoo's identity. I felt a very strong, almost brotherly aspect from Detective Choi here with Jiwon, but he still frustrated me unbelievably. I get it, he's a cop. Just doing his job, but still... please use your brain on this rather than taking a cold case at face value. There's A LOT more going on he does not know. I have to give him props for covering smoothly for Jiwon. I know he isn't doing this to hurt Jiwon. That this is his job, but I don't have to like it. I just hate how he acts on his gut feeling and what he's "heard" or hearsay rather than working with Jiwon to uncover the truth that Do Hyunsoo did not kill the village foreman.

Also excuse me?? I'm sorry, Detective Choi, but her emotions are VERY VERY real. Whether you want to believe that or not. Jiwon knows so much more than you do about this entire ordeal and you should stop riding on your own emotions for a moment and work with your teammate rather than telling her she needs off the case. Such as, finding out the real Heeseong is NOT dead. He's been comatose for 14+ years and now he's wide awake and talking. This is one case she HAS to be on no matter what. Because he is so dearly misinformed. I'm getting a little tired of this "He's deceiving you" crap about Hyunsoo because we all know this isn't the truth. Yes, he kept his real identity secret, but he never faked anything around her. He showed her openly who he really is and can be. He was NEVER Baek Heeseong. He was ALWAYS Do Hyunsoo. A good person.

When Jiwon fell to her knees pleading  (Moon Chaewon's delivery of "Sunbae, please!" and "I'll put my life on the line to prove his innocence!" hurt so much that if I had been standing, I would've went to my knees too *sob* Well done, girl) to him. I do like how he wanted to try and protect her by saying "You don't know anything." I have to give him some credit for that.

"It's obvious how the world will see him. Everyone will throw rocks at him and taunt him indefinently."

Oh Jiwon... he's already been through that. LITERALLY. *glares are freaking Moojin* But we definitely don't want that happening to him again. He's a GOOD man and he deserves for the world to see that he's good and he's innocent. You are going to be the one who can prove who he is to the world. And no, Detective Choi... she won't thank you. Not now or ever for arresting any innocent man that also happens to be her husband. I'm sorry, but no. She won't.

We cut to Hyunsoo and Moojin together in Hyunsoo's car... I knew from the start that this operation was too well put together. There's no way that transaction was gonna flow as smoothly as Hyunsoo hoped it would. Though I'm glad that Moojin did come along for help and I'm glad that Hyunsoo had a plan B if things went south, which they ALWAYS do because hello? This is Kdrama world haha. The bugging device was clever on Hyunsoo's part, and I'm glad he was thinking ahead on that one. This stuff is never bound to go right. And once again, clever clever with turning on the switch AFTER he'd been ran over with the detector. Nice one.

Alright, Detective Choi earned more redemption from me here when he smoothly lied to their fellow teammates about "Eunha being sick and in the hospital." I will give him more credit here. Credit where credit is due, but I am SO proud of Jiwon for not backing down on this, stepping in and taking charge. Girl, GET. IT!! Protect your man!!!I LOVE her fierce determination here. You aren’t gonna stop her, sunbae.

YES!!! Moojin has the address to where the people captured by the human traffickers are waiting! I'm so glad for this honestly. I'm really glad Hyunsoo bugged that bag. Jiwon gets the call from the "informant" (Moojin pretending to be Hyunsoo, which YES she IS needed on this case THANK YOU very much) and now they know where they can rescue those kidnapped people while busting the trafficking ring.

"You want me to just stay in the office and wait!? What would you do in my shoes?"

And it seems Detective Choi has a moment of conscience here because what WOULD he do? He's got a wife too, right? What would HE do if this were HIS wife that he so dearly loves??? That's right. He'd be just like Jiwon. Who wouldn't??

Ahhh, just as Yeom Sangchul is about to hand over the photos of the accomplice to Hyunsoo, his phone rings... and guess what it says on the screen? BAEK. Yep. That's right. Freaking BAEK. And it's the unfather. It's Baek Manwoo calling to not only put a hit out on Hyunsoo but to tell the trafficker that he's working with the police to catch them and offers him TWICE the money he's already giving them if they kill Hyunsoo... I mean REALLY??? WTF you shady bastard! I had a BAD feeling from him since the very first episode and those bad feelings just continue to be confirmed to me. This whole Baek family are nothing but creepy, shady, untrustworthy assholes covering up some major shit such as WORKING WITH HUMAN TRAFFICKERS. Down to the point that Yeom Sangchul called him "Sir." UGH. DISGUSTING.

Heeseong is "scared" of Do Hyunsoo? Oh please... Why I do I feel like a lot of this that he's pulling off is a big act? I dunno. I could be wrong but I do not trust him in the least.

And now Noona!? Girl what are you DOING!? Haven’t you ever heard the term Stranger Danger? Well, these are strangers and this is danger! Watching her go behind those iron gates just gives me this creepy "point of no return" vibe. You know? She is far far too trustworthy... Was it smart to tell them her name?? And that Hyunsoo is her brother?? The look on Heeseong's face SCREAMS guilty when he hears Haesoo speak her name. I'm JUST saying. He's fucked. He KNOWS who Haesoo is after all. 

YESSSS!!!! So gratifying watching the cops BUST that trafficking ring! Thank you, Hyunsoo!! Your tip off just saved A LOT of lives. I really hope the cops so eager to imprison him realize this too on top of his innocence. Jiwon and Jaeseop's chase of the bartender on the bridge was awesome. I loved watching Jiwon switch directions with both her and Jaeseop have him surrounded on that bridge. When I saw Jiwon get stabbed I screamed. I really screamed. Because I thought for sure she was hurt, and thank GOD she had protective gear on. I love how she reemed Jaeseop's ass for not wearing his. HAH! And you didn't want her on this case! My girl is a legit badass.

Then when Jaeseop told her not to butt in in the future, and asked if she knew how scared he was (awww like a big ole brother protecting his sister), Jiwon tells him "I have no future." Oh god... *chokes* Yes you do, baby girl. Yes you do. You just don't know it yet. They capture the guy, are about to head back and she tells him "I still have something to do." YESSSS Queen. Go get your man! He's still wearing his watch. You'll find him so go get him out of that dangerous place!!!

Annnnd now the big moose trafficker guy working with Yeom Sangchul is beating the holy hell out of our Hyunsoo. I knew this was bound to happen. NONE of these things ever go properly or smoothly in Kdrama and of course it's for dramatic affect, but still. It's hard to watch him get tossed around and beaten like a ragdoll. Hyunsoo tries to fight back, but it's almost like no will is there. He's just going through the motions. He throws Hyunsoo into a shelving unit and slams his head off of a glass bottle, shattering it and busting his head open. And then he slams his head through a glass cabinet door. Again... another head injury.  (This poor man seriously needs to get thoroughly checked and evaluated for head injury, fractures, contusions, concussions, etc... because with how much he's hit his head... goodness!!!)

Awww, Moojin... you tried really hard to save Hyunsoo, didn't you with the fire extinguisher act? That's definitely a redeeming quality for you here. I'm grateful you did that, even if it wasn't very effective. He can't get out, Moojin.. he's had the shit beat out of him and now he's tied up. But I so appreciate your efforts in trying to rescue our protagonist. Why does Lee Joongi have to be so incredibly gorgeous, even when he's got bloody head wounds and is all tied up. Gosh. My brain is thinking lots of things. Okay let's FOCUS.

THIS WHOLE BAEK FAMILY IS A SHADY, FAKE, LYING SACK OF SCUM. PLEASE, Noona... PLEASE do not fall for this. HAH. Well, their son isn't comatose anymore. He's wide awake. Also, took pity on Hyunsoo!? No they didn't. Not even CLOSE. They used him to their advantage. They're worried Hyunsoo will get caught up in it? HAHA! BULLSHIT. And you KNOW he isn't a criminal and yet you treat him like one!? Why not just leave the him TF alone. He doesn't want your son's identity anymore. You're putting hits on him with a human trafficker and you're gonna act like he matters? Noona, please... PLEASE don't fall for their act.

Oh she's telling them too much. WAY too much. She's giving them too much vital information, and I'm really afraid that this is going to be somehow used against her... especially in regards to the accomplice... who I believe is also CHEWING HIS NAILS ON HIS LEFT HAND. JUST LIKE I SAID HE WAS DOING IN THE PREVIEW. WHICH IS ANOTHER LEAD TO HIM BEING THE ACCOMPLICE. Those left nails. Chewed off. Nervous habit obviously, but STILL OBVIOUS OKAY. The real Heeseong IS the accomplice. Look at the way the whole Baek family behaves. They're a horrible, scary, shady family trying to cover their murderous son's ass.

Ohhhh CRAP, Moojin!!! He is getting the holy HELL beat out of him and he's getting it on video on his phone too! Like WOW!!! People are seeing this stuff live!!! This is absolutely crazy!!! No good stomping the phone, bro. All of that was just broadcast live. Good luck getting out of your lil trafficker ring hideout on time. You're gonna burn Hyunsoo alive??? Seriously??? That's pretty cruel. At least Hyunsoo tries to be clever by also trying to weasel the name out of the guy that ratted him out. Oh if ONLY Hyunsoo could find out!! That's MORE valuable information to help clear his name! That the shady unfather put a hit out on him. He deserves to know that this man is out for his blood.

YASSSSSSSSSS JIWON!!!! GO QUEEN!!! GO AND SAVE YOUR MAN!!!! GET HIM OUTTA THERE AND BLOW THAT TRAFFICKER'S HEAD OFF!!!! Obviously this isn't going to happen. Jiwon wouldn't kill unless absolutely necessary is what I believe. She is a police officer after all, but there was NOTHING like watching Jiwon have her gun to that piece of garbage excuse for a human being gang punk bastard's head while looking at her husband saying "Sweetie, are you alright?" It's a whole.fucking.ass.mood. I'll reiterate my statement from earlier. JIWON IS A LEGIT BADASS. She is such an amazing lead female. The look on Hyunsoo’s face... It’s like he’s in a state of shock.

YAY!!! The victims are FREE!!! Thank god In Seo is okay!! And yes, sweet precious baby boy. You can go home. You most certainly can go home and don't ever EVER run away from your mother ever again. You stay next to her and both of you need to protect each other and keep each other out of any dangerous situations, y'know, like showing up in shady places that involve a human trafficking ring. No more trying to take on fake jobs that will "make you lots of money." That's the first sign it's a dangerous situation and non-legit. Also, I love how the team leader knows Jaeseop is lying to him, but that he wouldn't do it without good reason. And I'm glad he's still keeping it up. I like that he's still protecting Jiwon. Even if that means lying to their team leader. He's going to make his arrest in the morning, but he's going to let Jiwon and Hyunsoo have the whole night together... oh god, my heart. Please don't imprison an innocent man...

Oh, Hyunsoo... oh honey. You can see emotion beginning to brim the surface here as he stumbles out Jiwon's name saying "You knew...?" Yes, sweetheart. She's known for a little while now, and she was completely unsure of what to do or how to tell you until she got the truth of it all. And here she is. Getting you out of there. Rescuing you and protecting you. Jiwon is your fiercest protector. That much is clear. And OMG DO NOT PUT YOUR GUN AWAY JIWON. GET YOUR CUFFS BUT DO NOT... OH NO!!!!

Gangster piece of SHIT is attacking her!!! And Hyunsoo is LOSING it because he's tied up and he can't get to his wife! So what does he do while he watching this nasty bastard try to kill her? ADRENALINE SURGE! He literally BUSTS the handles off the cabinet with tied up arm strength alone because the idea of his wife being choked to death in front of him has sent him into a frenzy, gets his hands free and beats the ever living deserving SHIT out of Yeom Sangchul, to the point that he's seeing RED and he's going to kill this son of a bitch for daring to lay a hand on his wife. He's in full blown protective husband mode and it's actually pretty hot. I can't help it. It is. Whenever JG fights, he is like fire hot sexy af, and I LOVE every moment of it.

Okay, so Jiwon pulls him off of Sangchul and here we go... she's telling him. He's telling him she knows. She's telling him that Detective Choi has evidence that he's Do Hyunsoo, and the way she tells him he can't go home (omg his FACE at this words...) keeps telling him to go, slaps his chest and shoves him back, tells him to run and never come back to her again, and the look on his face breaks my heart, because I feel like this tells him she knows and doesn't want him anymore. She knows your real identity and this is why she wants you gone. She doesn't love you anymore, she wants you gone. The person Do Hyunsoo is not worth the love of a woman like Cha Jiwon.

“You’re good at running and hiding!” Ohhh ouch, Jiwon... I truly believe that this is how he feels because that's how he's lived all of his life. Believing himself unworthy of love because of all the adults who failed him in his life, the adults who didn't help him, teach him, show him what it's like to be loved, what love feels like, what the emotions that accompany love feel like. He's emotionally shaken. It's written all over his face, his eyes, and his body language. The man who supposedly can't recognize emotion is getting very emotional. He's lost. He doesn't know what to do. Jiwon is just as equally crushed. She doesn't want to lose her husband, but of course Hyunsoo does not know this. He believes Jiwon doesn't want him anymore. So he does as he's told and leaves the room with his head bowed. All Jiwon can do is cry over her retreating husband. That was hard to watch...

Moojin rushes in to find Jiwon on the phone asking for backup and Yeom Sangchul unconscious on the floor...

To be continued in Part 2

[tookishcombeferre]

Klaus Fanfic: “A Tether”

I wrote a self indulgent thing for the Klaus 2019 fandom. Klaus is a Christmas movie. I’m trying to be sensitive and not post too much Christmas stuff.

But, I really like this movie, and it was an Oscar nom. The art is phenomenal, and I really like the characters.

That being said, obvs you don’t have to read it.

This is sort of a self projection fic? I wrote about Alva reflecting on the Spanish Flu of 1918 in a teacher’s point of view because I am burnt the fuck out.

“I haven’t heard from Jimmy Krum in 2 weeks. I’m worried. He said in his last letter that his family wasn’t doing well. He was trying to help his son apply for some kind of boarding school program in the city that I recommended last year.” Alva ran a hand across her face as she spoke to herself pacing across the floor of the post office attic. “Although, I can’t remember if he said they might wait until he turned 11 next year or not to send him out.”

“And you probably won’t hear from him until I can safely get out there again. I won’t let you go out. You’ve only just recovered.” Jesper opened the hatch to the attic and stuck his head through. “Go rest.”

“Jesper you know I can’t. I’ve been cooped up for so ...” Alva bit back a cough. “And you’re one to talk!”

“Nice save. Really, you are so convincing. I’ve been fever and cough free for a week. You on the other hand ...” He sat next to her, pulled her close, and kissed her temple. “Need to stop worrying. Everyone is fine. You sent enough homework with me to them, before we all boarded up, for two years. I promise.”

Alva sighed, and she supposed he was right. But, it didn’t stop her worrying. Despite the phone being a relatively old invention, most families in Smeerensberg didn’t own one. She couldn’t call and check in on kids the way she’d like to. Sure, some of the more well to do families had a phone, and she made good use of theirs to call those she could call. Jesper had to remind her to slow down often, especially in those first months of the pandemic, when they were still debating boarding up.

The town eventually chose to shut down after Jesper could no longer deliver the mail. He’d only stopped his deliveries when his own children got sick. This had been in late October.

The kids had gotten the flu, somehow, despite all their precautions. Then, for Alva, it seemed that everything really was over. She and Jesper were up at all hours of the night comforting their children. Alva had never seen Jesper cry so hard as she did when he thought he was alone on the phone with his own father. Jesper’s father was lucky enough to be spared the worst of the illness, and he was in sound enough headspace to listen to his son’s terrified sobbing for nearly an hour before Alva finally stepped in. She had listened to him cry begging for the illness to take him instead of his children, and Alva simply cried with him. There wasn’t much else they could do besides try to nurse their children as best they could and cling to one another in desperation.

In about two weeks, the children had recovered enough that they felt safe sending them to live with Espen Krum. Epen’s son had just recovered from the illness and war wounds, and Espen was more than happy to take in two young children that would cheer his son up for sure. Alva remembered how the thought of the two kids living there for awhile made Jesper smile. They both recalled how Jesper mailed the love letters back and forth between young Broderick Krum, the first toy recipient, and Greta Ellingbow during his time in The Great War.

Alva couldn’t help but be thankful that they’d sent the children away before they had the opportunity to see their father in the worst throws of the illness. Alva knew the illness preyed on healthy people almost more than those who had reasons for complications. She shuddered at the images of Jesper’s thrashing as he cried for his father, for her, and for Klaus. He begged her forgiveness as he sat trapped in the memory of all those Christmas Eve’s ago. She stayed with him as he begged Klaus’ understanding, promised he’d changed, and pleaded with her to still love him despite it all. Gone was the loving goofiness of the man who tucked their children in with jokes about stamps and letters. In its place, her strong husband shook with terror, and his fears of abandonment were laid bare before her. It was two weeks of caring for Jesper, and reassuring their children, before Jesper finally recovered enough for her to be satisfied.

It was only then, when she felt certain of his recovery, that her body finally succumbed to the illness. She had little recollection of the two weeks she was tended to by her husband, but he’d assured her that she hadn’t said anything too damning, and on the whole, she was more compliant than when she was healthy. He’d called the children faithfully each night, and he remained by her side all the other moments of the day. He rested with her, and he kept her cool. She still remembered just days ago, in the very first days of December, when she finally woke up and saw his face.

His eyes had sparkled with tears as he looked at her and whispered, “I knew you could do it.”

“Alva? Yoo-hoo?” Jesper waved a hand in front of her face.

Alva blinked herself back to the present moment.

“Sorry. I was just thinking about Lydia and Willem. It’ll be good to have the kids back before the holiday.” Alva leaned into Jesper’s shoulder.

He hummed his agreement. “Yes. Oh! Speaking of which. I have a surprise.”

Jesper helped his wife to her feet and guided her down the ladder and into their living room.

“Surprise!” He placed his chin on her shoulder. “I decorated it while you were sleeping.”

Alva smiled. It was far simpler than most years. The four stockings were hanging on the fire place. The tree was wrapped in a small amount of garland and maybe half of their ornaments were put up. She noticed the cookie plate already waiting with two glasses set out for the annual appearance.

Alva turned and stared at Jesper. “I sometimes wish he was still here. I have so many questions.”

Jesper hummed and pulled her close.

“As do I,” he said in a soft voice.

The two of them stood and surveyed the scene in silence for a few moments. Jesper placed his hands on Alva’s shoulders when they tensed suddenly.

“What is it? If you’re worried about Lydia, I just got word from Espen Krum that she’s had no complications. And, Willem has slept through the night soundly without bothering anybody for the last week.” Jesper reassured. “They’re doing fine. Also, we still do have a phone. I’ll let you pick 3 people to call as a treat. It is St. Nick’s Day after all.”

She blinked at him before face planting into his chest.

“I feel so useless.” She sobbed into his chest.

“Now, why would you think that? You’ve done so much for me, for the kids, and for your students. All through October, you taught every damn day, and made all those stupid work packets to last them until we could go back safe. You gave them book lists. You told them to call you if they had phones and were stuck. You even answered most calls until our own kids got sick. Alva,” he lifted her chin and kissed her forehead. “What more can you do?”

“I-I ... I don’t know.” She sobbed as she fell further into his chest. “I don’t know. But, it’s so hard. I can’t let it go back to the way it was before when the kids here could barely speak and poor Jimmy Krum was 13 and couldn’t write his own name. I can’t let that happen. What if they forget everything?”

“It won’t. You know why?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and swayed her side to side. “Because, you’re the best damn teacher this place has ever seen. You took kids who could barely speak and taught them to be kind, to think for themselves, to report the misdeeds of their parents, and to stand up for themselves. So what, they forget how to write the letter “a?” Or so what, Heather’s daughter still mixes up 0 and 8 like her mom did on her return address most of the time she was a kid? Those are all things that can be retaught. But, you’ve got heart again, now. You’ll make it work.”

Alva felt a fresh wave of tears bring her to her knees. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I just ... I want to stop worrying, but I can’t. I want it to be over, Jesper. I want it to be over. I’m so tired.”

“I know.” Jesper knelt next to her. “Do you want me to hold you or will that make it worse?”

“Hold me?” Alva reached out to him.

They sat there on the floor for a long time as Alva clung to Jesper and cried. Jesper just rubbed her back and told her it was going to be okay in the end, but he recognized that it sucked right now. He reminded her she had every right to be sad and stressed, and he let her cry. He told her that she’d carried the weight of their family and town for too long. She had laughed and said they both had, and they both cried. They cried because the house was empty of the two people they loved most apart from each other. They cried because they’d never had the chance to mourn the moment they each thought one almost lost the other.

For, they knew, they would fade into the dark abyss of depression without one acting as the rope to tether the other from being lost in the icy sea.

Eventually, they rose on creaking limbs to sit in their chairs by the window. The two of them cast long glances at the snow outside.

“Do you think he knows? Or will I have to tell him?” Jesper’s voice was quiet and somber, in ways it so rarely was. “I don’t want to tell him that I almost lost you.”

“I don’t know, Jesper. But, something tells me that, somehow, he knows.” Alva patted his hand.

He nodded. “I was thinking that next week I would send for the kids and reopen the post office. Mail for Klaus is likely pretty backed up.”

Alva hummed her acknowledgement. “I think that would be a wise idea. Thank you for waiting that long. I know it’s hard for you.”

“I just ... I’m nervous. But, not about being out there. I just ... I never want you out of my sight again.” He clasped her hand tightly. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” She kissed his cheek. “It takes a lot more than that to get rid of me.”

He laughed lightly despite everything. “Good thing I actually want you around then.”

He stood, and they held each other for a moment before sharing a chaste kiss.

The two of them walked to their room, and they nestled down together in each other’s embrace. Tomorrow would find them still snuggled together as the rays of dawn poked through the window.

*******************The End **************************

Some notes on my thoughts about the timeline of events leading up to this/other weird headcanons.

I kind of assumed the movie was set in late 1890ish (based on fashion and some of the tech people had - such as the type of boat, the lack of whaling, and the items on Father Johanssen’s desk - I thought I saw some kind of phone which would have put the film at at least 1876).

Also, women’s fraternities began forming in the late 1860s-1870s. Considering Alva is a graduate of a university of some sort, we can infer that she would have gone to school during a time in which it was at least somewhat more normal to see women being educated. My sorority was founded in 1870 and we’re one of the oldest.

I would assume Alva is about 23-25 during the film considering she probs would have graduated at like 20ish. I thought she said she’d been there for like 3 years or so. So, I kind of assumed she’d graduated in mid to late 1890s and took her job in 1895 (20) and 3 (23) years later wanted to head out.

I also head canon that Alva was a member of the Sami tribe and left on less than great terms to go to the city to be educated. This is why she took the job in Smeerensberg in the first place. The Sami are pretty isolated from the feud and don’t really seem to know about it (to our knowledge). So, it would make sense that she might want to come home and patch things up by teaching nearby. It would also help to explain why she speaks and is able to translate Sami.

The only thing that kills this theory is the lack of cars. I suppose, since, those were invented in 1886? But, cars didn’t fully replace horses until 1907. Also, I’m pretty sure Smeerensberg is exempt from the car rule anyway.

Based on my weird digging into accurate time frames for the movie, I assumed the first Christmas was around 1898. That being said this takes place approximately 20ish years after my thoughts on when the film took place. The fic is set during the height of the Spanish Flu of 1918.

Further timeline clarifications: Alva and Jesper dated for about 3 years. They were married in 1901 (26/29). They had their first child in 1905 (30/33), and they had their second in 1908 (32/35). Klaus died 1910 (34/37) (12 years after the first Christmas in 1898). The original children would be in their 20s-30s ish (I pegged most of them to be about 5 and the oldest at about 13). Therefore, some of the older ones have kids of their own. Jesper and Alva’s kids are 13 (Lydia) and 10(Willem). Alva is approx 43 and Jesper is 46.

[spnsmile]

[Hello! I understand this can be upsetting to some so tags are on: RPF, ENGINE FAILURE, ANGST, EMOTIONALLY HURT/ COMFORT/ FLUFF] work of fiction BUT FLUFF/ KISSES

Response to @cocklesdestielfiction​ prompt BOTTLE (Cockles, a 5K story)

“The right engine exploded… like… BOOM!”

— Richard Speight Jr. (VegasCon 2020)

********

“Where’s Misha?”  says Jensen above the steady hum of the plane’s engine blending with sounds of shuffling bags, pitter-patters, and clinking glasses but Misha can always hear him perfect pitch or not.

“Here.” he heaved himself from the end of the aisle after unloading his personal bag with the other smaller luggage. He can hear Cliff talking to the attendant by the coach but he’s just too tired to say hello. 

“Hey, Cliff.” 

Misha’s eyebrows rake up and unfortunately for him that’s all he can muster with his limp. There’s a blunt grunt from the security papa bear.

“Nappy time for you, Misha. You look shit.”

“Thanks.” he grimaces. After ten hours on set (and that’s without Jared), he’s just too exhausted. Stalking to the cabin seats, Misha joined the others with bleary eyes.

He catches glinting green whose cherry lips begin to form into a wild smile. There has to be some rule about instant rejuvenation just from receiving that dose from such a nice face.

Richard beats them both in whatever shit they were about to say.

“Service is slowing, Misha. Your customer’s been addressing his complaints to the not-so-proper authorities.”Misha sniggers.

 “Who’s proper here, do tell.”

“Jensen’s not being proper at adulting.” Alex supplies staring out at the green primo uomo Misha’s been ignoring. The whine comes. It’s like a sweet tickle on his ears. Petulant and cheeky growly voice—signs Misha learned—since his first day—never to encourage.

“Misha! Mish! One more call you’re gonna deliver a bar.” 

He turns.

“Been callin you out.” 

“You do that to spite me, fucker.” Misha drawls, walking to Jensen and holding out another bottled water that has to be his 8th. “Here. Don’t believe the media when they tell you the world will never run out of water. Maison says the water sprites will invoke the right to strike just on principle.”

“Sweet faerie. But I believe you. You just hoarded eight hundred Aquafina.” 

“And who’s fault is that?”

If Jensen wasn’t giggling so dorkily at him, he would have snatched the bottle and cursed him for the reminder. But Misha couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corner of lips. Even Rich and Alex hark laughter at the meaning.

Cause Misha Collins just had a truck of bottled water delivered on set that’s still causing stomach hurts from the cast. Recently, Jensen had taken up the habit of ‘mentioning Misha ’on set as a result of that one interview involving some intense heart eyes and delivery of drinks caught on camera. Nothing to deny there, relationships over ten years tend to turn if not bitter-sweet memories, then the opposite tooth-rotting.

This takes the cake. Everyone began doing the same.

Of course, Misha— pleased by the attention and a new game to distract himself from the already distracting Jensen, returned all summons. Misha who was never one to do things halfway and pledged on delivering all sorts of drinks every Jensen pings his name—except apple juice, jesus. 

But it’s one of those feats that usually get out of control in Supernatural so by the end of the first week, everyone’s just going ‘Misha.’ He liked that a lot. Also, like the truckload of bottled water delivered on set much to their amusement.

When Vicky saw the number on their credit card receipt, she didn’t even raise an eyebrow. Oh, but he wanted to tell her anyway.

All fun aside, Misha’s particularly grumpy now for another reason. Sleep-deprived and emotionally drained after pouring everything on that last take, he’s now headed to Vegascon with this little group. It was nice Jared arranged his private plane to take them. The pretty convenient thing when a pandemic is out there.

Jensen looks tired too, dark lines under the eyes, lips dry— thus the water bottle Misha’s been carrying around— but how the fuck he managed to radiate with teenage energy even when it’s already late will forever evade Misha who wants to snuggle beside him but instead just looks him straight in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” he mouths, backing to his empty chair.

“Do it.” Jensen teases him and Misha will not appreciate that radiance of beauty pulling him in.

“Can’t, there’s our kid here. Don’t wanna make it awkward.”

Alex shakes his head. “Nope. I think I’ve seen the worst of it.”

“That’s what you think.” Misha chuckles.

“Buckle up, Mishano, signals on.” Richard turns his back from the window facing Jensen with red-light flashing above their heads. “Let’s save the Cockles once we’re in Vegas, kay guys? Innocent guy trying to avoid diabetes so save the Cockles.”

“Save the Cockles.” Alex fumbles inside his jacket to fix his earphones. 

Misha and Jensen roll eyes at each other and Misha returns to his spot. Jensen is directly on his line of sight so it’s quite easy to check out on him, maybe snap adorable photos and stack it on his 100 terabyte collection he can post someday when he’s 90.

Taking his phone out after securing his belt, he hears the pilot give instructions as the plane begins to move. Soon, he’s immersing himself with replies on tweets and messages on his number using his extra handphone. Zoning out wasn’t difficult, especially when trying to block out the funny feeling of the engine preparing to take off. They’re all used to it by now.

A few minutes later, they all feel the usual sensation of slowing down bodily before the plane thrusts forward— Misha closes his eyes,  hands clasping his chair until they feel the plane level after the accent.  When he opens his eyes, he hears everyone including him take a deep breath. There are exchanges of words but he is already glued to his phone answering messages sleepily. He’s so tired he can sleep forever. His eyes begin to droop and he sighs in content, finally able to rest even for just minutes.

Till there’s a gentle nudge on his leg. 

He ignores it.

Another kick. 

No.

“Mish.” Kick again.

Misha grimaces. Such long reach for bowlegs…

“Misha, I swear—”

“Social distance, Jen?” he opens his eyes, obviously grumpy.

“A truckload of beer from Poland sounds nice, I’d prefer that.” Jensen wags the water bottle with mischievous dimples showing off on the corner of his cheek. Misha frowns and shuts his eyes again. Good god for distractions. Good god for soft manly middlemen with so much energy…

“Mish…”

Ignore him.

“Mish!”

Imagine if Jared’s around…

“Hey, Misha, Poland beer really—”

Misha’s eyes flutter open.

“No, honey, I will not argue with you about Polish ‘Alkohole,’ it’s not even articulated the same.” Misha throws a grumpy look over notorious green-eyed lynx whose chuckling over his misery, “You’re gonna fuck with me again and I’ll have another story in my head I am unable to tell a soul as its rightfully not for children, sorry, Alex.” 

Ball on Alex’ court, he blinks from Jensen to Misha quietly then shakes his head.

“I am legally an adult.” He obviously could hear them from his pods. Misha raises a finger.

“Correction, the show says you’re 3. All fanfiction does.”

“I’m married.” Alex injects in amusement.

“Fanfiction says Misha and I are married.” comes from Rich’s corner. 

At this Misha sits up, preparing his list of things why Misha-will-never-be-married-to-Richard-Speight-Who-Got-a-Rob impromptu—

“I’m married.” Alex retorts but Richard and Misha are bickering over the type of marriage to hear him.

“You both can say whatever the hell you want, Cockles will top.” 

Sometimes Jensen just can’t bridle it. Sending Misha his heart eyes flirtatiously, he stops the argument with a wink. Misha giggles with all tiredness gone, replying to Alex about marriage while Rich says something about Jibcon to Jensen when things begin to go wrong.

Misha did not see it happen. He was busy looking over Jensen, admiring the bravado and confidence about the newly found comfort over their relationship (and their characters) when a loud bang from his right splits the air, followed by crashing sounds of that thing that Misha dreads, one of the worst sounds he never wants to hear in his life.

 But that’s only just the beginning.

The first explosion rocked the plane violently forward, then topples without warning to their right. It throws them off with seatbelts tightening—making them grab around the seats, stomach in their throat as they keep their steady hold. 

Misha looks outside to the cloud of smoke and crashing debris, his mind tuning only to the present and hears himself as well as Jensen and Richard cursing with jesuschrists. Misha doesn’t know. He was never a steadfast believer but for this one, he’s already calling out god. 

The show’s influence is deeper than he thought. He thinks of all the near-death experiences he’s had but it’s nothing compared to this one. For one, he can only look at Jensen and the feeling sinks in the hollowness of his guts.

This is worse, much worse than the drop tower ride or any gyro drop his children always admired him for riding. No. Here the safety belts that kicked in didn't secure anything from the loud crashing sounds that pierced their ears, the shrill sound of the engine roaring like as it beat fragments unto the air leaving maybe nothing of its parts. How many engines are exploding?

Misha doesn’t close his eyes. He tries to deny the possibility that this is where him, Jensen—  Alex, god Alex just got married! He’s so much more ahead of his life— and Rich just might finally find their end. An irony of life where the show that’s keeping their lives together now also on the way to its end. A kind of twist in reality that’s been shown by many, if not more famous names ahead of himself but Misha tries not to think about them. He tries not to think about the same profession that killed them. He can’t afford it, oh god his children…

He realized he didn’t even kiss West goodbye the morning he left. How he left the unkempt dish on the sink in a hurry. How he didn’t check Maison’s daily log of mischief she does while he’s away.

Now he may not return.

He closes his eyes as the plane shudders violently again. Please...

He calls Castiel’s name too, the back of his mind telling him they're dying. A more humorous, sadistic side of himself adding Dean is here, and that angel of Thursday isn’t going to let his husband die.  They shouldn’t. He and Castiel shouldn’t.

But he’s no Castiel. He’s only Misha.

If anyone asked him how he felt when the plane steadies itself as the pilots pull for control, Misha is not sure anyone would believe him. For the briefest second, he feels this tug at the back of his mind telling him it will be alright and the remarkable part is, Misha believed it. Fucking believe the whisper.

That’s when everything settles down.

Misha quickly looks around at Jense, Rich, and Alex. All of them are pale and he knows he doesn’t look any better. He wants to throw up but the uncertainty of the flight kept him guarded, his grip on the armchair not loosening.

“You guys alright?” Jensen’s voice much deeper than Misha remembers barely managed a nod.

Alex is looking at the floor with concentration where laptops, neck pillows, cups, and stuff are all scattered on the ground. Richard looks as if he’s going to throw up the way he’s holding his stomach. Jensen is staring outside the right window while Misha tells himself to breathe.

“Are you alright?” comes Cliff’s low voice from behind Misha sounding obviously shaken too but still steady. Misha didn’t have time to collect himself. Not that he’s stupid, his body just doesn’t get it, but he quickly pulls his phone and begins texting Vicky and the children.

“What the hell happened?” Richard turns his head over the cockpit when the rumbling dies down.

“Right engine exploded.”  Jensen is already unbuckling himself from his chair and casting everyone a look. “You all good? Mish? Cliff?” He doesn’t wait for answers. He shoots off to the cockpit and stops just by the door looking uncertain. 

“Hey, uh… do we have a situation?” Nobody spoke while he was gone so it's easy to hear the response of the pilots ahead.

“We most certainly do. Get in your seat. Put on your seat belt. We’re doing emergency procedures.”

Calm. Collected. Professional. That’s all Misha had to hear. It doesn’t seem like he’s alone. Everyone else breathes in relief as they all watch Jensen amble back to his seat, nodding. 

“Okay, you certainly have my attention, sir.” 

He buckles up and lifts his chin. The look on their faces must’ve triggered Jensen to clap his hands together. “Hey, buckle up! Cliff, sit down. Rich, breathe, kay? It’s gonna be fine. It’s only one engine, guys, c’mon. This thing flies on three! You think Jared had anyone else to listen to about private jet education? We’re gonna be fine.”

Then like heaven-sent, the pilot begins giving them reports of the situation from the paging in a very clear and commanding voice.  He tells them the right engine exploded which requires them to make a trip back to the nearest airport in Vancouver. That’s all he gives and a promise of an update as he wished everybody to stay calm and follow the protocol for emergency procedures.

“Hear that?” Jensen clears his throat, his hands clasping. Misha receives the full impact of the meaningful green eyes. The plane steadies itself with hum in the air. A full minute pass and the airplane did not drop.

“Fuck.”

Misha forces himself to relax as he drops his head back on his chair.  He can’t feel his body. His hands are still trembling when he smacks it on his cold face. “Fuck!” He can’t seem to say anything other than that.

“Fuck, indeed.” Richard agrees, grabbing his phone, “Good thing I got my pods on, that sound coulda destroyed my ears.” he begins typing on his phone immediately. Alex begins a speed typing contest while Misha receives Vicky's reply after his first message.

‘Kids are mine, right?’

‘Because I cannot make them alone. What’s wrong?’- V

Misha goes on about the engine and the exchange of mail becomes rampant. When about twenty minutes pass with a few throws of questions around, Misha looks up when he hears the blubbing sound of whiskey. Jensen is pouring 

“I’m gonna be drinking that scotch when I get back home,” he’s saying as he hands the glasses each to Richard, Alex and finally to Misha who shakes his head, putting the glass on the holder. Jensen takes the armchair beside him to which Misha is glad, especially when Jensen wounds his arm around his shoulder.

“We’re fine, Mish, stop shaking.” Jensen drops the side of his cheeks on Misha’s raven hair.

“I’m not,” Misha says shakily, wrapping his arms around Jensen’s torso and just pulling him into a tight hug. “Fuck!”

Continue reading: AO3

[rotationalsymmetry]

Living with CFS/ME overview (your mileage may vary):

Doctors: can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. Do your own research if you can, if you can tell something is bad for you don’t do it, and if your doctor doesn’t believe anything is wrong with you get a new one (if at all possible.) Don’t expect perfect understanding, do deal with your feelings outside of appointments and not during them, do have clear requests as much as possible. Do expect competence: not dismissiveness, not ignoring what you say, not failing to do relevant lab tests. Write stuff down, before and after. If possible, have someone else come with you to appointments (especially if you have serious brain fog issues and/or are the sort of person doctors tend to not take seriously.) With emails, some doctors will only answer one question per email, so if you have five questions that means writing five separate emails. Don’t be afraid to be pushy, as long as you’re pushing for something the doctor can actually give you.

Getting stuff done. You can’t. At least, not as much. Do you need help with: housework, shopping, childcare, filing for benefits? Personal hygiene? Figure out how to get what you can and learn to live without what you can’t. Delegate as much as possible. Whatever weird feels you have about accepting help, figure out how to set them aside and accept help anyways.

Other people: in my experience most people will take your lead. If you tell them you’re not sure what’s going on or aren’t sure what to do about it, you will get more suggestions and advice than you know what to do with. If you want sympathy, you might get that (or you might get unwanted advice — sometimes saying explicitly what you want helps.) If you talk about your illness like a totally routine thing that you’ve totally got, the advice and general “oh shit I want to help but don’t know how” goes away. In my experience.

On that note: it’s OK and a good idea to tell people explicitly what you want from them. “If we’re going on vacation together I need a place to stay with no stairs.” “What would really help is if someone could run groceries once a week for me or pay for delivery.” “I could really use help from someone who knows how to read scientific articles.” “I could really use some patience and understanding about sometimes having to cancel plans at the last minute.” “I need a therapist who’s worked with people with chronic illness before.” Whatever.

Fuck exercise. Or rather: stretchy gentle exercise can be fine/good, strength exercises that you can do without raising your heart rate might be fine; anything that raises your heart rate is much higher risk. Walking is appropriate exercise for people with CFS, just be careful to not overdo it. (I am not joking.) Personally, I do a lot of yoga, but I’m not exactly doing sun salutations. It’s yin yoga and restorative yoga and a small amount of strength exercises. And...pranayama. Exercise for people with CFS/ME doesn’t look the same way as it does for people without it. That thing where it’s good for healthy people to take the stairs and this and that? Not for you. Be lazy. Do things the lowest energy way possible.

PEM and pacing: it’s all about the activity intolerance. Sometimes you run out of steam right away, sometimes it happens two days later. If your body says “stop” it means it; if it gives you a green light it might be lying. If you’re getting some days that feel almost normal and some days when sitting upright is a Herculean task, chances are if you do a lot less and try to do approximately the same amount of stuff each day, you’ll figure out what your sustainable “energy envelope” is. Or how many spoons you have, if you prefer that metaphor. And, most likely, you’ll end up with way fewer “can’t sit up” days.

Breaking things up means you can do more with less consequence. Eg: wash dishes until the first hint of feeling tired, take a break and sit or lie down for five minutes, then keep going. Pushing past the point you feel tired is risky.

In particular, in some situations you may be excited or stressed enough to not notice when you’re tired, so sometimes it makes sense to plan breaks rather than relying on the self awareness approach. When I play games with my partner, for instance, we set a timer for half an hour.

Adaptive equipment and behaviors: I use a folding stool in my everyday life and a wheelchair (provided by the airport) if I have to travel by plane. At one point I figured out how to wash dishes in a plastic basin sitting down (although, paper plates are an option too.) My partner and I leave a couple cooking pots on the stove and the things I use most often on the counter, since digging up a pot from the floor level cabinet that’s full of pots is much more tiring than the pot already being where I want it. In general, stuff above shoulder level or below waist level is significantly harder to get to. If showering standing is tiring, get a shower chair. Some grocery stores have motor scooters that can be used by disabled customers (that means you.) Grabbers can help with things like when a sock falls on the floor and you don’t want to have to bend to pick it up. If your walking is very limited, but you have someone who can push you around, a rolling walker with a seat may be more affordable than a wheelchair.

How to get your doctor to prescribe you a wheelchair so that your insurance will cover it: your doctor is worried you’ll lose mobility due to walking less, so if you actually want a wheelchair so that you can get outside and do more stuff for longer, focus on that. Ditto for a scooter. I’ve found writing a comprehensive list of what I can’t do or can only do with great difficulty, and handing the list to my doctor, is significantly more effective for getting taken seriously than mentioning one or two limitations and expecting the doctor to be able to extrapolate. Make it easy for them to do what you want them to. (Sorry if this sounds manipulative. My experience is that if you come in assuming your doctor will just give you what you need as long as you’re up front and trust them, you’re going to be sadly disappointed. I was not like this before I got CFS and spent months practically begging doctors to take me seriously.)

Taking naps or non-sleeping lying-down rests during the day might help. Yoga nidra, progressive muscular relaxation, or some sort of guided visualization can help with relaxation. You can also just lie there and let your mind wander, but if your mind tends to wander to sad or worrying sorts of places then you should give it something to do. One note of caution: if you’re near your limit you might feel more tired after a rest, that doesn’t mean the rest was bad for you but it does mean you gave the tired a chance to catch up with you. I do think the benefit comes as much from doing it regularly over time as from any one rest by itself though. (I can’t do anything on time, so for me “regularly” means “to within about two hours, most of the time.”)

On that note: your feelings matter. Stress and extreme emotions can take as much out of you as grocery shopping or a two hour zoom call. So...therapy if possible, self help books, doing things that help you feel calm and put things in perspective. You might need new coping strategies if your old ones take too much energy.

Some people with CFS have more energy/activity tolerance/spoons in the morning and less late in the day, others like me are the opposite. I couldn’t find my pattern when my energy levels were swinging wildly from day to day, but eventually when I got things more leveled off I figured it out. If this is the case for you, planning hard stuff for your best time of day and light stuff for your worst times is a good idea. For instance, I shower in the evenings rather than the mornings.

Once you’ve gotten your symptoms to more or less level off, if you get to that point, you can try very, very gradually expanding your activity levels. When I say gradually, I mean gradually, and be ready to go back to less activity any time things get worse again.

Thing is: if you don’t use all your energy, it does seem to sort of build up a “reserve” so you can bounce back from expected or unexpected stressors (illness, travel, etc.) But when your reserve runs out, it takes much longer to recover. So, there’s something to be said for not going at 100%.

In particular, don’t try to go back to 100% too quickly after one of those stressors, like a cold or (sigh, speaking from experience) a cross-country move, even if you feel like you can. Where 100% means using all of your spoons/energy envelope, not functioning at 100% of what a healthy person can do.

Plan ahead of time how you’re going to handle special occasions like holidays, a visiting friend or relative, or travel. “If the movie theater is too loud I will have to leave” etc. When I got married, I planned when and where I was going to take rests, and planned absolutely nothing for the days after. (Interestingly: I did better afterwards than I thought I would, even though I got major brain fog during the reception. Apparently the stress before the wedding was messing me up more than all the activity and socializing at the wedding itself.) We went on our honeymoon a full month later — even a relatively restful trip is still more tiring for me than staying home.

Get advice from multiple sources. This list is aimed at, well, basically myself and anyone with similar symptoms. I’m not addressing pain because that’s not one of my symptoms, but if it’s one of yours you should absolutely get advice from people who experience pain. Likewise, I’m not housebound so I’ve got limited advice there. I don’t have kids, so I don’t have much in the way of parenting advice, and I’m not working so I don’t have “how to handle a job when you have CFS” advice. Oh, and I’m in the United States, what you can expect the government, schools, businesses etc to do for you can vary considerably by country.

A lot of this comes from this website and backed up by my own experience. They have lots of easy to read articles and success stories, and email-based “classes” (think structured support group, not like college class) on living with CFS/ME or fibromyalgia. They don’t get money from promoting supplements or whatever, which is a thing I look for as a sign of integrity. (Not that supplements can’t help, but if someone is getting money from saying they do it’s harder to trust if they’re being fully honest.) There’s also groups on FB and I’m sure other places that are well suited for asking questions and getting advice. There’s books, both on the disease itself and possible treatments (mostly highly speculative and/or alternative) like Living Well with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and Fibromyalgia, and on the “how do I live like this?” side of things, like How To Be Sick. Point is: you don’t have to go it alone.

Postscript: recovery. The odds that you will get somewhat better are pretty good. The odds that you will make a full recovery, given the current knowledge about CFS/ME, are low. I know that doesn’t feel good if you’re newly diagnosed (side note: you don’t need officiant diagnosis to start assuming that you’ve probably got CFS and looking for resources, I didn’t, official diagnosis can take a while.) I know when you’re new to this, all you want is to return to normal. (And you might; some people do.) Here’s the thing though: even if you don’t get back to normal, it’s not always going to feel this bad. What feels bad isn’t mostly the state you’re in, it’s mostly change: improvement feels good, getting worse feels bad. If you level off or get a bit better (super likely) and start comparing your current state to your low point, rather than when before you got sick, you’ll start to feel better again. It’s the adjustment period that’s rough, more than the illness itself.

It’s grief, it’s loss: grieving the life you had and the future you hoped for, and the way people respond to that is similar in many ways to how people respond to losing a loved one. Therapy might help, religious guidance if applicable to you might help (if not, perhaps consider this a good time for a deep dive into philosophy, or some form of creative self-expression like drawing or writing poetry); whatever you do, be aware that this is a huge thing to have to come face to face with, and it’s normal to struggle with it. (And: it’s not always going to feel this bad.)

It’s possible to have CFS/ME, and have a good life. It’s possible to have CFS/ME and have many sources of joy and delight and excitement and satisfaction and connection. It’s possible to have CFS/ME and have a deep sense of purpose and meaning, even if your old sources of purpose and meaning are no longer available. It’s possible to live well.

[jenliliscripts]

Home This Christmas

"Lisa, babe, can you check the muffins in the oven? I'm still busy cleaning," Jennie yells from the living room.

"Mmmm! Just a sec!" Lisa responds in a high pitched voice then scurries to the kitchen.

"Baaaaaaaabe, how long did you leave this here? I might ruin this if I keep pricking it."

"20 minutes I think?"

"Alrighty! I'll take it from here. Go do your thing. I got this."

"Thanks, babe!" Jennie answered, her body feeling warm right after sweetly addressing Lisa.

It hasn't been a smooth ride for the two of them, especially when they had gone past the early stages of their relationship. Day by day, as they discovered their differences, fights ensued. The situation got worse when they moved into one apartment. Lisa had to pack her bags in the middle of the night a couple of times over the years. In those occasions, her clothes were already scattered on the floor outside their door with a large duffel bag on top of the pile.

Jennie's patience for Lisa continued to dwindle after every broken promise so her first reaction whenever Lisa fails to keep her word is to kick her out of the apartment. It used to be a huge issue whenever Jennie does this. So much drama and screaming. They've been reported by their neighbors because of all the shouting which led to them being called to the office by the management. Of course they were embarrassed, but that didn't stop them from fighting over the pettiest things. But they've always made up one way or another. They always find their way back to each other.

They've only gotten back together a few weeks ago and Jennie immediately noticed the changes in Lisa's behavior and because of that, she was a bit more patient whenever her girlfriend messed up. She used to pick on Lisa for the smallest things she did wrong just because she suddenly remembered the taller girl's lapses a long time ago. Now, she stops herself before she could say something unpleasant. It's what usually starts their arguments—Jennie's nagging. Lisa could take one round of it but eventually loses her cool once Jennie repeats herself as if she hasn't heard enough of her issues.

Flashback

"Babe, can you put your foot down. It's called a table for a reason," Jennie scolds her as soon as she got out of their room.

Lisa rolled her eyes and reluctantly obliged. "Happy?"

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?"

"No," she lied and continued to skim through the selection of movies on the screen.

"Yes, you did," Jennie raised her tone. Lisa has always found this vexing yet she never spoke about it.

"And so if I did? What are you going to do about? Whine?"

Jennie clenched her jaw, the veins on her neck becoming prominent. "Can't you just do something without parading your attitude?"

Lisa shrugged, her eyes boring into her girlfriend's face. "That's if you stop fretting over the tiniest things like we're going to die if I don't put down my goddamn foot down from the table."

Lisa's tone was pretty much monotonous yet Jennie perceived her nonchalance as a mockery. "Don't start with me, Lisa. You're the reason why I'm being like this."

She scoffed, leaning back and linked her fingers behind her head. "Yeah? I'm always the bad one in this house. I was never right. Go ahead. Blame me all you want. I'm used to it."

"So all this time you haven't reflected on your shortcomings? My fucking God. Grow up."

Lisa shuts her eyes then pressed her lips into a hard line. "What do you want me to do, Jen? Kneel in front of you and worship you day and night for all the plans I ruined? Should I cry you a river for forgetting to greet your mom on her birthday and for all the instances that I let you down? Is that what you want?"

"Stupid! Stupid!" Jennie shrieked, her eyes turning dark.

Here we go again, Lisa thought.

She stood up and marched to their room, but before she could walk past her girlfriend, her arm was yanked. "What? You're done yet? I'm already getting out of your way. Can't you see?"

"We're not through." Jennie's voice was shaking. She was trying to act tough even though she was the type to cry in these situations.

"What's your concern this time? I'm sorry for whatever it is. Now can I go?"

Lisa was tired of it. They were fighting everyday. They slept with their backs turned against each other. They was more anger than love between them. These moments made her think of just ending it. It would be easier that way. She doesn't have to deal with Jennie's loud mouth and she could do anything she wants like take her clothes off as soon as she enters the apartment and leave it there until she decides to pick it up or leave the dishes unwashed until the next morning. With Jennie, she has to police herself 24/7. It's driving her crazy.

Jennie's tears were starting to fall from her eyes, but swiftly wipes them away. "If you're gonna continue being like this, maybe we should just break up."

"What do you mean?"

"Just you being you doesn’t really help our case."

"What's wrong about being me now? Jesus Christ, Jennie Kim."

"We clearly have so many differences. We tried working it out and we couldn't find a middle ground. I hate you for being a slob. You hate me for being a perfectionist. You don't like following orders, while I can't stand it whenever you stray away from my instruction."

Lisa strokes her hair with her fingers as she inhaled deeply. "Jennie, I'm not your slave. I'm your girlfriend."

Jennie fell silent. "I've been silent all this time, but I think you don't find anything wrong about yourself when it's pretty obvious that there is. We're both flawed. It's not just me. Maybe look at yourself once in a while."

Lisa takes her arm and stormed off to their room. She plopped to the bed and stared at the ceiling thinking about her relationship with Jennie. Are they beyond saving? Are they going to crash and burn at the very end like how she had feared the moment she settled into the relationship? Their friends got married in succession and they're the only remaining couple who hasn't tied the knot. They've avoided the topic as much as they could so whenever their friends would open up about it, they would laugh it off and dismiss them. Jennie is aware of her hesitation, however, the reasons she confessed to her were lies. Lisa made up her mind long before and even bought a ring. She was ready to propose, but their fights started to get worse from that point so she decided to postpone it as long as she could.

Now she's just going through the motions, showing Jennie that she doesn't have a plan in taking their relationship to the next level. It may be one of the reasons why Jennie is being so uptight or maybe it's because she's forgetful and irresponsible. Either way, Jennie seems to dislike her more than she loves her.

Lisa fell into a deep slumber a few minutes later. She couldn't help it no matter how hard she tried. The bed is undeniably her weakness. Upon realizing that she dozed off, she jolted awake. It was pitch black and eerily quiet. She couldn't hear the clanking in the kitchen or the music playing from the speakers. She checked the time on her phone and it read 6:08 PM. She frantically jumped out of bed and dashed out only to find the small light in the living room turned on.

"Jen?" she called, her eyes scanning the vicinity. "Babe?"

Their friends would be arriving soon for Christmas dinner and Jennie's not the one to be gone an hour before a scheduled event. It's not yet sinking into her, but the thought crossed her mind when Jennie wasn't responding.

"No, no. She wouldn't do that," Lisa mumbled to herself as she walked back to the room.

The only way to know was to check the closet for Jennie's things. She stood in front of it for a full minute, gathering enough courage to open it. "Jennie wouldn't leave this apartment. I'm the one being kicked out here."

She closed her eyes and carefully pulled the handle. "I know her things are here. They should be."

Her heart sank at the sight of an empty closet. It was wiped clean. There was no message or call. Not even a note saying where she went. Lisa was frightened. She doesn't know where to find Jennie. She hasn't done this before. Her fingers were shaking when she picked up her phone and called her, but she was sent straight to voicemail.

"Fuck, Jennie. You're not doing this. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

She bombarded her with messages after many failed attempts in contacting her. She called everyone they knew but they have no idea where Jennie is. The last message they received from her said that dinner's cancelled.

And Jennie did disappear that night without a trace and it left Lisa in complete disarray. It's like her life stopped in an instant, without warning. She wasn't ready for her departure, she will never be so she set her mind into finding her. She is adamant in taking her back.

But it was almost a year since the day she left and she still couldn't find her. Lisa was becoming hopeless and was about to give up, however, Jennie magically appeared in her front door on the first of December.

Lisa opened the door mindlessly, thinking that the person on the other side was the pizza delivery guy. Her arm was already extended, ready to hand the crumpled bills she's holding. "It's 18 dollars, right—"

"Hey," Jennie cuts her off, a shy smile plastered on her face. Her hair was tied into a messy bun and she was wearing the pink sweater I gave her. The suitcase she that stood beside her was half her height and the backpack she was carrying hung loosely on her back.

Lisa stared at her, jaw hanging open, still in a state of shock. Jennie didn't seem real. It felt like a dream. "Jen, is that really you?"

She chuckled. "Yes, it's me."

Lisa snapped out of her reverie and quickly took Jennie's suitcase from her hands. "Come in, come in."

"Am I still allowed in here? Is this still our apartment?"

Lisa's expression softened, her heart swelling with joy as Jennie's arrival finally dawned into her. She is back. There's no more waiting and the search is over. She grabbed Jennie's waist and pulled her into a kiss. She missed it—how her lips felt, how her hair smells, everything.

"I missed you so much, Jen. I'm sorry for everything. I wouldn't be able to list them all down but I've realized my mistakes and I'm going to do better. This time I mean it."

Jennie cupped Lisa's cheek and smiled warmly. "I was wrong too, you know. You were right. We're both flawed. I'm sorry for leaving you like that. I was actually a bit unsure if I should ring the doorbell. I thought you went on with your life after I disappeared."

I shook my head. "I couldn't see myself with someone else, Jen. You are where all my roads end."

Jennie cheeks were instantly painted red after hearing that heartfelt statement from Lisa. She isn't the expressive one between them yet she unhesitatingly declared her feelings. "I love you, Jen. And I'm so happy that you're home."

End of flashback

Lisa went behind Jennie and slid her arms around her waist, before lowering her head to kiss the crook of Jennie's neck. The smaller girl was startled, her body jerking as soon as she felt Lisa's lips touch her skin. "It's just me, babe."

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to this version of you. I think it will take time."

"I'll do this more often. I'll drown you with affection if I must. Agh, I love you so much. I really really love you."

Jennie twirled and faced her, prompting Lisa to loosen her grip. Jennie balled her fist into the collar of Lisa's shirt then tugged her forward, and planted tender kisses on her cheeks before capturing her lips. Jennie moved skillfully, causing fireworks to erupt in Lisa's stomach and the hairs of the back of her neck stand.

They were both catching their breaths when they broke away and a smile etched on their faces as they stared into each other's eyes. "And I love you too, my Lili."

Lisa subtly fished for the ring in her pocket. "Tell you what, let's do something we can brag about later at dinner."

Jennie tilted her head to the side and shot her girlfriend a questioning look. "Like?"

Lisa took a step back and showed the ring, eliciting a gasp from Jennie. "Lisa…"

"Marry me?"

Jennie couldn't utter a single word. She was caught off guard. The idea of marriage already left her mind a long time ago but here's Lisa shattering all her expectations again. She has indeed changed. She was no longer the person she left a year ago.

"Pretty please?"

Jennie nodded repeatedly and raised her hand so that Lisa can insert the ring into her finger.

"Merry Christmas, babe," Lisa whispered into her ear.

"And more to celebrate with you," Jennie responded before kissing Lisa again.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

WhatsApp? Part 10. (Steve Rogers x reader)

Description: You’ve never been lucky with guys. You just wanted to catch someone’s eye, to be loved. One day, that’s about to turn completely - with one fake, completely imagined number a guy gave you

A/N: Man I live for Sam Wilson. He’s too much to handle. He’s that chaotic friend for sure.

Word count: 1.9 K

Warnings: Probably like none? Idk.

Tagging: @missdictatorme, @songforhema, @mikariell95, @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

Read the rest here: Part One  Part Two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part Six  Part seven  Part eight  Part nine

If you like to have your readings in order :):  H E R E  

You had a deep coma until two p.m. the next morning, unable to move, speak or talk, just laying in your head under the blankets, watching some Audrey Hepburn movies running on the TV.

When you for yourself together and felt like standing up, you took a long shower full of bubbles and nicely smelling cosmetics, then you took the rest of the make-up down. Then, with your stomach still being heavy as fuck, you ordered some food from a near pizza shop. Then, again, you fell down the bed, still looking like a piece of trash.

When your phone rang, you picked it up without even looking at the name on the display. You thought that it's the pizza courier.

"I'm sorry man, I can't even walk. Can you go to the third floor, fifth door? On the back of the hall. You can't miss it." - You growled tiredly like a Golum, sounding really tired.

"If you tell me on which address, I will come. Are you expecting someone?" - You heard Steve's voice from the other side. His voice was breathy, so you knew that he's on his daily jog. You couldn't even know ho terrified he actually was because of the answer. You surely were expecting someone. Some man from yesterdays evening. 

His confidence slowly fell down from hundred to zero seriously fast. And you didn't even have to say or do anything for that matter.

"Yeah, queen Liz will be at my place aaaany minute." - You said quietly, but your fingers started to play with the necklace almost immediately. It was perfect and you never wanted to take it off. - "Just the pizza delivery guy. I'm hungry but too lazy to cook. It really made me tired yesterday."

"You were perfect." - He said breathlessly. Your lips curled into a slight smile. Steve was running around Brooklyn park with a perfectly dreamy look on his face. You two were such dorks - "I could not believe my eyes. You were so close and so full of life, so beautiful... Dear lord."

"Steve, you really knew which one am I? Didn't you look after Deena, May or Suzie? Because you surely are not talking about me." - The breath stuck in your breath and your heart was beating faster and faster. You probably had to stand just a few feet from him. He could basically touch you if he wanted to. And you wished that he have even when you knew that Steve wasn't that kind of a man.

"I was looking at you and only you. And what about that solo with your friend? I liked that. That was funny." - Steve smiled. You only heard yourself giggling and squealing. That made the big man a bit worried. He never heard you do those sounds so loudly. But now you had a serious hungover and you were just happy. There was nothing to hide anymore. - "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes, I am. I perfectly am. Just... You were there, with me, watching us, maybe even singing and clapping, you gave me that beautiful necklace... And..." - You mumbled with the speed of light. You are so sweet. Steve found it nice to find someone so pure and so happy because of such a small thing which was completely natural for him.

"So you liked it?" - Steve stopped and breathed the six miles he just ran. His thighs and ass were slightly burning, that was a sign of a seriously good work out.

"I... I loved it. I will never take it off, I swear!" - You exclaimed. Your head and body hurt, but Steve has woken you up so much, that you have completely forgotten about that. That was just what Steve did to you daily. - "Also, it was you, am I right?"

"I was what?" - He laughed and you heard as he drank something.

"Ten grand out of our twenty-five? You did it, am I right?" - You smiled. Steve was obviously just a really good, real and honest man who cared about local charities. A good heart with a good soul - Steve obviously wasn't the one who would flex on you with his money. He would never.

"Maybe it was me, maybe it was not me. Do not care about that. I and my lads loved it yesterday so we wanted to let you know. Did you get that note?" - Steve asked, his voice tone suddenly changing from playful to hoping. You froze in one place. The note... THE note.

You must've lost it when you were taking the board from Tony Stark himself. Suddenly, you wanted to cry. It must've been something important for him.

"Oh Steve, I'm so sorry..." - You shuttered and sobbed as you were about to cry. What was the note about?

"Hey. Do not be sad, alright? It's not a big deal at all, Y/N. I'll think about something else, just keep your spirits up, sweetheart."

---

Even tho Steve acted like it was a no big deal, it was a huge one for him. He wrote you a short note, in which he was asking you on a serious date. Sam made him do it because he was so curious about your reaction - old school yes or no note with a date and a location. But you have lost it.

Steve wasn't mad, of course, he wasn't. But he has some high hopes for that. He was crazy about you saying yes, to finally meet you, take you out on a dinner and to be just... With you, your beauty and bright mind.

He was calling you throughout his entire jog and as you ate your pizza. In the end, he truly asked for your friend's number, because Bucky was persistent about getting to know that girl.

"I will hang up. I have a meeting with some friends today, but I can call you in the evening, is that alright?" - Steve stopped in front of his apartment door, adjusting the microphone on his earphones as he was searching for his keys.

"I will hopefully survive today. I will miss you, handsome." - You said in a sweet tone and Steve felt as his knees melt a bit. Now he could imagine your face and expression, your big shiny eyes and beautiful lips curling to a smile. And when Steve closed his eyes, the feeling became even more intense. You were perfect for him.

"Tell me about it. Be safe." - Steve basically purred and got into the apartment. Bucky immediately took notice of his lad and he smiled at Steve. His expression was telling so much without him even saying a word.

"I will, bye." - You sighed lightly and hung up.

"I should take a photo of you." - Bucky joked and when he said a word photo, Sam immediately hurried out of bedroom only in his boxers.

"Ma man just saw some boobs, didn't he?" - Sam clapped cheerfully and Steve just waved him off. Sam and boobs - that could've been an idea for a saga. - "Hope you got the number for Mr. I Will Teach About Jesus. He is just fuckin' persistent because of it."

"Got it. But now we should prepare for that big Avengers evening. Tony will be curious about that ten grand I gave to them." - Steve said cheesily with a laugh.

When he was taking another shower and dressing up, two texts were delivered to his phone. One of them was some Deena's number. Steve figured out that that was your friend's name.

The second one was a cute photo of you - your face, messy hair, slight smile and big eyes looking at him. You had a tank top on to show off your new necklace. The smile was definitely the cutest ever. He immediately needed to show Bucky.

"Yeah. She's... She's just perfect, pal. But I'm more interested in the first text." - Bucky winked. Steve couldn't be mad at him. Bucky always had a thing for girls which radiated that bad girl energy, those nasty ones who could kick his ass. And Deena, as you called her, was surely that type who could show men that she is completely on her own. 

---

The next day Deena yelled and ran to you just when tried to open the door to your office with a serious load of muffins.

“You won't believe anything im going to tell you, girl. Shut up and listen!” - She yelled all over the building and caught both your shoulders in an eager grip. 

“Okay. Stop yelling. I'm listening.” - You laughed to her face, and she rolled her eyes. 

“A man from that evening texted me this morning. Like... If I wanna hang out today.” - Deena whispered. Yeah. Steve informed you that James, his friend, is going to contact Deena. You just didn't expect it so soon. You had the thing going on for a few months and yet you havent seen him. But James asked Deena out instantly. Just like that. 

You were the jealous one at the moment. Yet you got a smile out of your lips which made you appear happy.

“That's awesome. Is he handsome?” - You asked curiously and entered the building with her by your side. You tried to be happy for James hitting his chances off immediately, yet you felt like Steve could it as well. Was it a problem in you, in him, in the universe, or where the fuck it was?

“As fuck. Man, if he lets me be my own woman and if he won't do the top between us just because he’s a man, I think I'm gonna see him again.” - Deena told you with a totally wicked smile and you opened your mouth. 

“That sounds like you’ve started with wedding plans. Can I be the grand-mother of your first child?” - You joked around and Deena stopped you with a gentle touch on your shoulder.

“Hey. I know what's this about. You're angry that James is initiative and Steve is just surrounded with mysteries. But... You know... James can be a jackass and I can tell you hes a complete dick tomorrow. But you and Steve have invested a few months of your life into that relationship you two have. You know each other. You call each other every day. I don't know James at all.” - She said in all seriousness. That's why she was your friend. She knew what was wrong without you even wanted her to. You hugged her tightly because she raised confidence inside of you.

“If James would act like a dick, I will say Steve to beat him the fuck up.” - You promised solemnly with your hand on your heart and entered the office. 

And so Deena and James started dating. And yet you felt like you and Steve were the first ones even if you haven’t seen each other.

[ahiddenpath]

Digimon Adventure Tri Stage Play Reaction

Guys, this is not an analysis: this is my feels and obnoxious comments while viewing the stage play.  My initial goal was to use these notes to make an analysis, but they’re too funny/stupid/wow to hide from the world.  I typed these notes in real time, stopping the play whenever I had a thought.  It’s the closest I can get to having you watch me watch the stage play without using videos.  I will write an actual meaningful post soon, but for now, have a confused and jumpy/unpolished blob of feels.

The other thing I want to say is that I didn’t edit this after I wrote it, except for surface editing (grammar, spelling) and clarifications (mostly adding more names).  So if I formed an impression at some point, that’s what I really thought in that moment; I didn’t go back and change it.

That said: this will completely and totally spoil the stage play.  SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS!  Read on below the cut (if you dare; it’s almost 4K words long and full of images).

Hidden’s Digimon Adventure Tri Stage Play Reaction

I am immediately not buying that Mimi wouldn't want to camp in the bungalow.  Isn't this the kid that went to Tokyo Tower instead of patrolling Tokyo because the tower has AC?  I guarantee she'd whine an hour in about wanting the bungalow, but wouldn't allow Koushiro to point out that she made this choice for all of them x__x

 Did Mimi just... just throw the laptop?  How bratty can you get?  I... wow, I really hope they don’t treat my Mimi so poorly the whole play.

From Sora's speech, I can see that nostalgia will be a major theme here, which, to be fair, is appropriate, lol!  Nostalgia is pretty much why we’re here.

TAICHI! It’s so good to see you get your big bro on again, lol???  Hikari:  "I'm not a kid who needs to wait for you to walk home with me."

 Taichi: "What?  Why not?  WHAT'S WRONG?!  CONFIDE IN ME!"  He’s so aggressive and clumsy about it, lol??

Taichi:  "WHO ARE YOU CALLING A STUBBORN BLOCKHEAD."

Jyou, amiably: "You, of course! Wait-"  I'm like 15 minutes in and I have already decided that Jyou is my favorite (not surprising lol).

Jyou:  "YOU ARE IN DANGER, TAICHI.  I HAVE NEVER SEEN YOU STUDY."  Oh lord, Jyou is bashing Taichi with the stone of foreboding. Is Jyou okay?  Is he quite sane?  He isn't, is he.  Do you see that gleam in his eye?  No, no. He is gone and gone indeed.  Jyou’s actor is A+++

Annnnnnd oh hey, it's Yamyams doin' jamjams!  I can dig that bass, is he actually playing?  Oh hey, he's gonna sing for real, he's-  Oh my god, stop!  ABORT! He's terrible, hahahaha?!?!?!  IT BURRRRNSSS!!!  

OH MY GOD HIS BAND HATES THE BAND NAME AND THEY'RE SPEAKING TO HIM IN FRENCH WHAT IS THIS

Wait wow what is this weird ass vibe between the bros?  Teeks is accusing Yams of not visiting...  Did Yamato have that habit to start with?  Hmm...

So Takeru says, "I don't want to see us go our different ways."  I've mentioned it over and over, but this feeling is so important to me.  It's something I want to write an entire fic around.  On the one hand, it's such an easy topic, given the subject material. On the other, it's where my brain keeps going.  So... Let's see what happens!

Also:  Takeru:  "Stay hidden, Patamon!" *puts Patamon on his head and skips offstage* Takeru, sigh...

OH SHIT IT'S ETEMON, saying Taichiiiiihehehehe like a creep ass creeper.  He done got beef, too.

Annnnd we cut to everyone reacting because Mimi has no supplies (did you all not bring any?). What I like here, though, is that Jyou can at least talk to her without getting shut down.  Poor Kou-chan -__-

Koushiro: "We're amateurs, is there anything we should watch out for?"  OH I DUNNO, MAYBE ETEMON IN A HAT AND A VEST god damn I know this is supposed to be funny, but they all look like idiots- 

Koushiro: "That old man had a feminine way of speaking"  Says the dude being portrayed by a male actor FOR THE FIRST TIME-

Koushiro: "Taichi-san, you're the closest thing to a caveman we have-"  Ah, bless.

(At this point, my husband is pointing out while playing Destiny that the puppeteers do really good digimon voices, and I'm explaining that the digimon voices are pre-recorded, lol).

ANNNNND Mimi is whining for supplies that she forbade people to bring.  I am shocked.

Jyou is talking about how he wants to help digimon by being a doctor, by saving and protecting, and my heart is growing three sizes.  Best Chosen, y'all.

But oof, the atmosphere got so heavy...  Why do these kids refuse to talk about what they want to do???  Jyou remains refreshing.  Also, I'm just noticing how Koushiro turns his entire body around every single time towards whoever is talking?  He leans in, too.  It's both cute and unexpected (I would expect much more reserved body language, but I get that this is a play and that's what you do).

HAH!  Only Jyou can see the shooting star because he's the only one with his shit together!  I love that, lol!  (Also, is that really Tailmon's voice actress?  Hmm...)

NO, ETEMON HAS KOU-CHAN, BAD TOUCH, BAD TOUCH although really it's painful that we're still pretending they can't recognize Etemon.

Koushiro can't read the room...  Well, at least that's familiar, lol!

(At this point, my husband is asking what I think, and I'm stuttering over how annoyed I am at the ‘not-recognizing-Etemon’ gag.  My husband is laughing at me and saying I'm at a loss for words. Thanks, love.)

HOLY SHIT did Hikari and Mimi just use the tired "scary stories" trope to bring up the Dark Ocean? I'll give 'em points for that.  I AM INTRIGUED, let's go!!!  Oh.  Oh, they broke it off.  They're not doing anything with it.  That's... sigh.  Thanks, guys. (Caterpillar Sleeping Bag Mimi is cute AF tho).

Hmm, right now I'm thinking that Mimi's actress is so lovely and so lively and really feels like Mimi, but...  I also can't stand how they wrote her so far.  Throwing Koushiro's computer, talking over him, not allowing him to point out when she's contradicting herself, immediately requesting the supplies she forbade people to bring...  This stuff annoyed me in Adventure, but she was 10 and in a situation I would have strongly struggled to handle.  But now she's literally...  Making problems for everyone...  For nostalgia's sake...  At age 16? I'm so torn, lol, because the acting is so good but ahhhhh...  Let's see how this develops...

Hmm hmm, I'm listening to Sora talk about how she doesn't wanna grow up, either... Darling, you're already quite grown up, lol!  Lovely lady. I love how the digimon puppeteers echo their puppets, I can't get enough of watching Agumon's puppet and performer while Sora speaks.  They really did a great job!

I think I'm about an hour into this, maybe a little less?  45 minutes?  So far all that's really happened is that we've established that the characters want to be together as Chosen Children, and that with the exception of Jyou, they aren't emotionally or mentally prepared to seriously think of a future beyond that.  I'll be the first to say that this a compelling and interesting topic, and it's something I've wondered about for them, but...  Shouldn't... more things... have happened by now?  Hmm...  I understood that this would be an issue from Sora's very first bit of dialogue.  No one in the audience needs this much expansion and repetition, particularly with so few new ideas and so little momentum so far.  Tri is intended as a love letter for fans of Adventure, yes?  Mostly adult fans?  We don’t need this much repetition to understand, we truly don’t...

Ah!  Now Yamato is talking about Jyou and how to become an adult, finally dropping some new ideas in.  Love ya, Yams.  And ahh, man, Taichi is just... screaming all of his lines?  The actor is so sweet and cute, but the delivery...  I'm pretty sure it's supposed to reflect that Taichi is putting up fronts like nobody's bidness, though.  Yamato ain't buyin' it (Yamato is Almost Best).  I really want him to grunt, "Tell the truth or shut up." XD XD  GRUNT GRUNT.

 Augh, god, I can't take this tho?  Literally EVERY TIME someone tries to say something that will move the plot forward or inject some vulnerability into this play (except for Papa Jyou), they change the subject.  I'm about halfway through now and this has to be at least the 10th time we've been blocked from useful information and deeper thoughts with this method.  Tri suffers from this same issue, though...  Their plot is such that they can’t sustain tension if issues are faced in a natural way, so they CHANGE THE SUBJECT or DROP A LEAD or IGNORE A LEAD, etc, etc.  Here it's mostly saying, "Well what about you?" or screaming someone else's name, which...  Subtle???  Ah, Taichi's latest method of not saying anything is to ask Yamato to play his harmonica...  Oh my god, he's playing Walk on the Edge!  Okay, okay, you got me, stage play.  Hahaha, I remember Yams being better at playing a harmonica, tho!!!!  (I keep picking on this poor dude who is asked to do all of the awesome shit Yams can do, sorry my dude).

Taichi:  Should we sleep?

Yamato:  Let's talk some more.

Taichi: (shit!  fuck!  He remembered I'm dodging-)  YES BECAUSE HE ISN'T AN IDIOT EXCEPT WHEN ETEMON IS ONSTAGE OMG SOMEONE HELP ME-

Ahhh, and they fade out...  With no forward movement.  THANKS.  I mean we established mood, touched on Taichi/Yamato’s relationship, and set up the problems that will be address later (I assume), but...  It’s so drawn out...  

And now Koushiro is drawing on the ground with a stick, bless you, are you trying to compute something? Sigh...  Ah, bless, Tentomon is intervening, haha! 

But...  As right as Ten-chan is, he's also... Wrong? XD  DON'T TELL YOUR FORWARD MOVEMENT MACHINE TO POWER DOWN!!!  Annnnd yes!  We're an hour in and SOMETHING IS HAPPENING!  I am so ready for something to happen. (Tony: "Can we handle the stimulation, though?")

Oh god, the kids freaking out over their partners acting weird, Gabumon's stage hand collapsing... God, right in the feels, I'm almost mad about how easy it is to get an emotional response this way, lol!  We just love our babies too much, lol!

Wow, Yamato lost it at Kou-chan...  You know, we think of Taichi as carrying a lot of pressure (and rightfully so), but Koushiro carries just as much, as we saw in Kokuhaku.  He's not magic, Yams, he needs his tools, and he doesn't have 'em. Related:  Although I don't much care for how it happened, I definitely would love to read/write/see a story where Koushiro has no computer and has to adapt, though.  I'd also love to see one where a new tech wizard appears and he questions his role, but that's a whole' nother thing.

EWW OH MY GOD DON'T UNDRESS ETEMON MIMI WHAT THE HELL, bleeeeehhhhhhh...  Oh god, he thought his outfit was obvious...  Well, you see Etemon, somewhere in the last 6 years, the kids completely lost their ability to read situations x__x  (I get that this is a joke, I really do?  But???)

 Oh huh, so they're claiming Etemon wandered the Dark Ocean for 100 years?  Didn't he...  Come back in Adventure as MetalEtemon?  Is he referencing his second defeat?  ?????

OH GOD POWER RANGER ETEMON WHAT IS HAPPENING.  Haha it's kind of cute that he's like, "Eh I don't know these two (Hikari and Tailmon).  I don't think Metaletemon saw them?  But honestly I don't remember.  I think he was around Jyou and Mimi mostly?

Wait shit are we seriously doing the actual conflict part WITHOUT JYOU AND GOMAMON?  I am so mad right now.  I kind of feel like they'll burst in at some point???  I hope...

...Etemon has a song and dance number.  I am rolling on the floor in pain with the Chosen.  I'm doing it, guruguru mawaru-  No, NO, YOU PUT TAICHI DOWN-  Goddamit how many bad touch jokes do I have to make-

 OH THANK GOD, is Jyou coming back?  THANK YOU DIGI JESUS!  (Tony: "Wait is your favorite back? Did he leave?  It sounded like he wandered off and now he's wandering back in again."

Gomamon: "YOU'RE BEING GROSS JYOU" honey, oh child, you ain't seen nothing yet.  Oh bless him, he's so happy, can we just watch Jyou bounce around in joy please and no more singing power ranger monkeys?  I take back my complaints about nothing happening, haaaaaaaaaaaalp me Senpaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiii

Oh lord Etemon's back WHELP.  Oh shit, oh shit that Obon joke, THAT'S THE BEST JOKE IN THIS PLAY, isn’t it?  We can't beat that.  Should I... leave?

Taichi, in Etemon's gross ass digital Wonder Land:  "What's wrong, Hikari?"  WHAT'S WRONG?!  WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE-

(My husband has informed me that I'm growling.  He tells me that, when we were watching Gravity Falls and Mabel tries to tempt Dipper and the others to stay in the perfect imaginary world Bill made for her, I said, "What is she, Satan?  Tempting them to stay here in comfort instead of facing danger to save everyone?"  This is a similar scenario, and it's one of the few things I didn't like about Gravity Falls and OH NO, TAICHI IS THE MABEL OF THIS SITUATION, HELP!!!!  Oh thank goodness, Taichi's done with this too, whew, okay, okay, breathe, stop growling).

Oh God, the Agumon puppet looks dead without the puppeteer, that's actually really awful? These puppets are amazing, guys.  I cannot say enough good stuff about the execution with these puppets.

Hmm, Taichi just begged for mercy, and Etemon is unimpressed...  Reminds me of the fandom after Saikai.  I wonder where they'll take this...

HOLY SHIT Taichi is losing his shit!  I won't say that all of that stammering and dodging earlier is accounted for here, since most of the characters did it to some degree, but it's nice to see the payoff within the same piece (instead of waiting months for the next Tri film and forming your own conclusions in that time period).  I'm actually happy to see a screaming breakdown like this...

Man Koushiro speaks SO QUICKLY, dude, slow it down!!!  Ahhh, he says that we're granted whatever we want here, so Etemon is probably trying to trick us by having us hear Jyou.  SOMEONE IS THINKING USING THEIR BRAINSSS I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!

JYOU IS HEREEEE TO SAVE THE DAAAAAAYYY THE NEW DIGI JESUS, JYOUUUUUU!!!  (And while I 100% agree that you should be cautious, Kou-chan, c'mon, he arrived saying that you made his phone go off on the train and it made him feel awkward, that's pretty much proof that it's Jyou, lol!).  OH AND NOW KOU AND YAMS ARE ROASTING JYOU, classic.

Koushiro finally takes a stab directly at the heart of this...  It's not even about being children and avoiding adulthood; it's about not wanting to leave August 1st.  I realize exposition is Kou's job, but I didn't expect him to be the one to lay it out after all of this dodging.  I’ll be honest, I’m so pleased with Koushiro in this stage play so far?  I love how he moves, I love how quickly he speaks, I love that he’s able to come out and say this.  I wasn’t into the way the play used him spouting off numbers to indicate intelligence, but that’s a nitpick compared to the ground they gave Koushiro here.  

JYOU.  JYOU.  EVEN IF YOU DON'T BELIEVE IN YOURSELF, KOUSHIRO, I BELIEVE IN YOU.  He continues to be THE BEST, I am in awe, I bow before Jyou.

OH MAN is Jyou gonna work his awkward magic on Yams?  Where's my freakin' popcorn.  Oh, well, hell.  Yama said he... doesn't wanna talk.  *rubs forehead*  Great. Entertaining.  THIS IS FUN I AM HAVING FUN *curls up and cries*

Okay so now Taichi is freaking out and Koushiro is trying to talk to him (roughly 70% of this stage play is someone trying and failing to talk to someone else).  But I really like what Taichi says here- "I have nothing to hesitate about." We all know this isn't true; Taichi is hesitating all over the place right now.  Let's see where this goes!  (Please let it go somewhere this time, lord above).  WAIT- WAIT-  ARE YOU SHOWING ME KOUSHIRO POINTING FINGERS AT TAICHI'S BULLSHIT AND SAYING "I'VE BEEN BY YOUR SIDE FOR SIX YEARS!!" AND THEN CUTTING AWAY?!?!??!?!?!?!?  RAAAAAAAHHHH is this an aneurysm?  I think this is what an aneurysm feels like.  You can't drop lines that good and then CUT AWAY FROM IT GOOD LORD IN HEAVEN-

Sigh, tsk, groan. Hikari, Teeks.  Whacho got for me?  Whoa, I swear Takeru has been a second away from sobbing ever since Etemon revealed himself.  You... you okay, buddy?  Can I, uh, get you anything?  I love how much Hikari has her shit together in contrast.  Oh, and Takeru is about to say something usefu- ohhh, another cut. God, I have a headache.

Hmm, Sora and Meems are cracking, too...  Sora says, "It was simpler when I was everyone's mom.  It's not like me to decide on someone or something."  I really need to hear Mulan's Reflections in the background right now...

Mimi saying "I want to do SO many things!" is refreshing my soul.  I know she's one of the most shippable Chosen, but honestly, if not for the fact that she has a kid that is clearly biologically hers, I would assume that she's too busy doing EVERYTHING to have a family.  My headache recedes just a touch.

Hmm...  I actually really like what Sulky (Yams) is trying to say here.  "I don't want to be with everyone because I'm Chosen.  I want to be with Gabumon because he's my friend," basically.  Part of me sides with Jyou- dude we all get that, it's not a shameful secret- but another part of me...  Deeply appreciates that Yams can separate his duty as a Chosen from his bond with his digimon.  Gabumon is his best friend, his number one.  It doesn't matter if Gabumon can't fight, if Yamato can never digivolve him again. It doesn't even matter that he's a digimon.  It just matters that they're friends, and that they be together somehow, which may seem a more tenuous position by the day.  ...Now I'm sad.  Well played, stage play.  This moment is wonderful.

...Annnnnnd now Yamato is overacting to hell, and I'm laughing instead of thinking and feeling, was that supposed to happen?  Sigh. I still don't understand why he has to be SO SECRETIVE about it, but I mean...  That's our Yams??? 

And now we're back to Kou and Taichi, and they're pulling at each other's throats, as they will, and honestly this is the only "NOW KISS" moment for me, but where was I-

In all seriousness, I really like that the person to finally, FINALLY get the truth from Taichi is Koushiro.  That's how it often was in Adventure too, yes?  But I almost feel like Taichi's breakdown here is a reflection of what fans said in Saikai.  Taichi in Adventure always took action (although he grew so much during Adventure, I'd argue the version of himself he's referencing now wasn't there by the end of Adventure?). He can't fight in Saikai because he's concerned about hurting people/property/the tenuous relationship between humans and digimon.  He can't take action...  But the ability to see that is an indication of growth, not regression.  Will he understand that here?  

Ok god, Agu-chan is dropping some truth bombs...  And the way he and his puppeteer crawl...  I swear these goddamm puppets will be the death of me.

Agu-chan, can you do me a solid and STAMP THIS ALL OVER EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE KIDS PLEASE AND THANK YOU?!

HOLY SHIT IS THAT A METALGRAYMON PUPPET?!  THEY HAD THAT SHIT ALL ALONG AND THEY BRING IT OUT WITH 20 MINUTES LEFT?!  WHAT WOT WOOOOT?!??!  I cannot believe I'm seeing this.  And I love how heavy and cumbersome the huge puppet feels.  Like, I always felt like Metalgreymon would be huge and slow, right?

Etemon, I was done with your shit a LONG time ago...

WAIT he is admitting that he was Metaletemon previously. So... when... exactly did he fall into the Dark Ocean?  Sigh. This is one of those "Let it go, Hidden" things, isn't it.  Uh, wow, I am totally unfamiliar with Kingetemon.  That's... a... thing.  

The use of screens and images in the stage play are really fun!  It must have been awesome to see this show in person O__o;;

OH SHIT, Yamato arrives in a cloud of smoke, that's how you KNOW shit is gonna go down!

OH MY GOD OMEGAMON ONLY GETS A HEAD OH MY GOD I'M DYING (Tony:  "HEY do you know how big that thing's supposed to be?!)

KOUSHIRO IS WEARING THE GOGGLES I'm down.  HIDDEN IS DOWN!  REVIEWER DOWN!!!!

HOLY SHIT JYOU'S "A" ON HIS MOCK TEST WASN'T REAL okay this is also a Good Joke, I applaud. Also I am LOVING sassy Koushiro in this? His way of being sassy is to do it in a way where you're not quite sure if he is trying to be a butt or not, which is 10000000% yes lol (In contrast, Izzy is intentionally awful usually lol).

Annnnd I was right from the start; Jyou is carrying this entire thing, lol.  Oh my god, the delivery on this?!?!??!  AMAZING.

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. LAUGHTER.  THEME SONG.  DRAMATIC POSE.  I THINK THIS IS THE END SHOT YOU GUYS.

 Now the actors are coming out to speak!

THIS.  LITTLE.  SHIT. I love him?  I...  I love him. The snark is strong in this one. I... he is so... so beautiful.  I...  I think I might be in love?  (This at least indicates that I wasn’t alone in thinking the computer toss was too much???).

YAMATO’S ACTOR JUST SAID "DON'T SAY GOODBYE," Well played, son.  I like the cut of your jib.

 AHHHHH OKAY OKAY I have no idea how I’m going to analyze this.  My surface thought is that this play features a lot of the emotions and inner thoughts of individual characters that can’t fit into Tri, and that (I personally think) Tri suffers from a lack of.  Because there isn’t really ship bait and maneuvering around a new character and plot, we’re able to see relationships that feel much more familiar to Adventure than we often see in Tri (ie, Taichi worried about Hikari, Koushiro worried about Taichi, etc).  As you noticed, I’m very unhappy with the way the play pushes the payoff back as far as possible, cramming it into an AMAZING twenty minutes or so...  But I loved those twenty minutes.

Also, Koushiro feels waaaay more like Koushiro than he does in Tri, except for Kokuhaku.  As your local insane Koushiro fan girl, I am standing and applauding and screaming and crying.  NO PERVY KOUSHIRO.  NO FASHION DISASTERS.  Just Koushiro being supportive and apt and sweet and trying so hard.  I am refreshed.  I am younger.

And the passion and love and energy that went into us, so visibly in human form...  I can’t describe how wonderful the actors and the puppeteers were.  And even though I kind of hated Etemon, his actor was incredible.

So the stage play has amazing points and really irritating points, but on the whole, it’s my second favorite thing Tri has given us (following Kokuhaku).  I will try to write about it more smart-like soon!  If you got this far...  I’m in awe, lol!  High five, my friend!

[enna-of-the-stars]

Black Night Veil

Fandom: Original Work  Word Count: 6.5k Rating: Teen and Up  Summary: Aren is a delivery man, running errands and generally hating life. He's given up too much, he's been erased from existence. So he built a new life, a new experience, but something that's been eating at him since then, comes back nipping at his frost-tipped ears and chilled spine. This is the original version of the story. If you’re looking for a more in-depth look at the backstory of the characters and overall improved writing, please click here for the Black Night Veil_Extended.

The sun dips low, burning into the distant horizon against purple ink clouds. The barren trees, stripped of the colorful warmth from just a few weeks ago, are stark silhouettes against the weathered white paint. When I finally pull up to the right address after searching for the past half hour, I am immediately overcome with a sense of unease, a slight foreboding that makes my heart pound and breath hitch.

The house itself is average sized. Nothing too big, nothing too small with faded numbers and a crooked mail box leaning heavily to the right. But something about it—perhaps the way the shuttered windows creak and swing in the frigid air, or maybe the way the stone chimney chokes out black smog fumes—ignites anxiety deep in my bones. The grounds are unkempt, shaggy in mis-constructed fences and misplaced stones. It’s like there’s blanket, some sort of wall, blocking this house from the ones back down the street. Just a turn before, the grass was greener, or at least as green as it could be in this season. The sky was brighter, but maybe that was because too much time had passed in my search for this place. The birds were louder, chittering and chattering against calls from parents to children still playing in the yards. But this street, devoid of laughter and voice, is silent and simultaneously overwhelmingly loud in its silence. A raven, perhaps crow, I’m too unnerved to really look, seems to stare down at me from its perch on the black smoke tree. It cocks its head to the left, eyes glimmering in the evening twilight. It caws.

Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I stop, gripping tightly. The shaking in my hands does not stop, but I ignore it. The seat belt seems to tighten and I choke in its grip. The belt unclicks and freedom is granted as I grab the delivery in the passenger seat, weighing the small box, judging if this is worth it. It is. I have to. I slam the car door shut, pull the delivery closer to my body for its strange persistent warmth, and make my way across the barren street.

The sun drops away, leaving just hints of twilight before even that loses faith and disappears into the ink black veil of night. The feeling of eyes on my back is unnerving and present and eats at me. So, I look around desperately from underneath my cap, yet I see nothing except for that cursed black winged creature on the branch. I’ve confirmed it, truly. It’s been staring at me since I drove onto the street, leaving the livelihood of the street just passed. Turning away, I breathe in, sort of strangled at this point, because god does it feel like there’s something clutching at my neck. I turn back, and the creature is gone. My heart, hammering, pelting against the stone-tired bones of multiple overtime shifts, stops for the first time since the start of this delivery. Shaking my head, the sights change and the house comes back into view. Ignore the bird, ignore the bird, ignore the bird. Ignore the bird. A mantra I repeat for only me, myself, and I.

A sharp, cutting caw strikes me. I nearly drop the box in my hands at the sudden intrusion of the previously somber silence. I fumble for it, catching it just before it hits the ground, stumbling in my steps on the uneven weed trodden stone path in the process. The box is clutched even tighter now. My hands only shake more, it feels as if my entire body is ready to rattle out of its flesh driving prison. The wooden stairs creak under my feet and I jump again at the suddenness, not expecting, was expecting the sound. The cool air fogs and puffs from my abated breath, but still, I move to knock on the door.

And I do. The door shudders with the weight of my knocks. It gives up what seems to be at least a decade’s worth of pollen, dust, and ash. Taking a step back, wide eyed and wholly unsure of what the hell I was doing here, because I’m going to—I’m going—

The thought stops there. As does my heart. As does my breath. As does everything in the world. It all spins to a stop, as the glittering starlight strikes something shiny in the corner of my eye. I look to the left, towards the aging wooden deck and the—

“Oh god.” It’s more of a weak escape of my soul, rather than tangible words. The weight of the world rests on my shoulders and presses down, hard. My knees give way for it, pliant under the pressure. I’m a mess, crumbled and broken and breaking on the wooden floor. Just to the side, there lies that crystal. It glows, ethereal in the veil blanketing the world in its sudden stop.

The world starts up again without me, when the thump of heavy footsteps from inside the house flickers some sort of awareness in the back of my mind. The old and tired door struggles itself open. In its haste, it sweeps more of that ash and dust and memories, long, thrown away memories, into the house. I blink when an awkward cough splits like thunder through the raining silence. I turn, looking up at the man that stands before me.

He’s tall, shrouded in a black… thing. It drapes over his shoulders and floats back and forth, back and forth, sometimes catching the moonlight and glittering its dark secrets before settling back to a void. Drooping locks of curly black hair, long and cascading in weeping waterfalls over the dip of his barely visible collarbone, puff and sigh with each breath. Pale, almost translucent white skin shimmers and both disappears and reappears in the pall of the dark interior of the house. He stares down at me unblinking. I stare right back, taking in the blue eyes, really almost gray. Something flickers in them, just as something flickers in the back of my mind. He moves forward, barely leaving the threshold of the house. He’s not wearing shoes, I realize, before a hand swims into my vision. The pale and thin wrist is delicate wire silk as it wraps around my arm. But, like spider silk, it is delirious and fake in its delicacy.

I’m pulled to stand, with striking, yet expected strength. I blink, still not really processing the who, the when, the now. The hand doesn’t leave my arm, but the shroud of black moves closer, and I too, am shrouded. The warmth is surprising, shocking.

Fuck, because what the hell.

I close my eyes and lean in as the other arm of the man wraps its way around my waist and pulls me in flush to his chest. Familiar.

____

“Aren.” He breathed, close to my ear. His arms are around me, holding me tight as the sunlight drips into the crack of the curtain and onto the bed. I hum, lazy, too tired from last night, too tired to do anything really. But still, I turn to him. He smiles, underneath those black curls that always seem to be in his way, with well, the way he’s always pushing them to the side. He looks down at me in his arms, smiles wide and pearly white. “Hey, sleepy.”

“Hey yourself,” I mumble right back. It’s mostly word mush into his collarbone, which I’ve taken quite the fancy of. I can hear him breathing, his heart thumping steadily away. He breathes in to say something, and holds his breath. Something is wrong, I can tell, after spending so many years by his side. Something is eating at his heart and mind and soul.

“I wanted to show you something today,” He said. “It’s important.”

That wakes me up fully. I untangle myself from him, he pulls back too. Suddenly, there’s a gap between us, palpable and tentative and possibly dangerous.

“Everything okay, love?” I ask. He doesn’t reply but merely looks away, moving to get clothed. His back is smaller than I’ve ever seen it.

“Just… Just wanted to tell you something.” His voice is softer than anything I’ve ever heard from him before. But it doesn’t fool me, he’s scared and I don’t know why and that breaks me. Still, I turn around too, and now we are back facing back. Pulling on some pants, a shirt, something to go over it, before moving to his side of the master bedroom, I stop just a hair width’s breath away. He’s still dressing, slow and methodical like always, but his hands are shaking and that’s what scares me the most.

“Hey,” I said. He doesn’t look at me, dead set on continuing to fumble at the buttons of his shirt, clumsy and obviously on edge.

“Hey.” This time, his hands stop, and I take that as my queue to move in. I carefully pry his freezing hands from the buttons and instead do them up for him. When I reach the top one, just under his chin, I look up and we lock eyes. His are pearly, glistening. I stand and let my hands cup his cheeks tenderly, thumbs wiping at the first not-quite tear.

“Sorry,” He manages to choke out.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be so scared, love.”

“I just—” His shaking hands come up to grab mine and they still shake, even as the warmth from me bleeds into him as if breathing fire and life into his limbs.

  “I just,” He tries again. “I’m scared you’ll hate me.”

I pause at that, thinking back to all the times before. Of weird occurrences, of strange accidents, of the many, many things that were should-have-been or could-have-been. Things that went wrong, somehow, someway, without really ever understanding why. But then, I remember that fire the burns bright within. That ignites passion and ferocity to protect the man before me. I smile reassuringly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“Not going to stop loving you.”

He finally closes his eyes, letting himself lean into the caress of my hands. The unshed tears breaking free and fluttering to the ground, even as I tried to wipe them up and make them disappear.

____

I blink and we’re back. I’m back and he’s back and, fuck this is happening, fuck—he pulls away. The gap between us is starker than ever, deeper than ever. I look up at him. His eyes are soft, gentle. I open my mouth, he inhales sharply. Both of us, we are here.

“I’m sorry,” He says first.

I can’t really muster anything except a strangled peep in reply as I blink droplets dusted by the stardust night sky. He wipes my tears this time.

“I’m sorry.” He says again. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. I wasn’t supposed to just—”

  Dry mouthed, my self comes back to me, and in an instant, the white-hot anger sears into the air dripping lava and spite and desperation.

“You. Left. Me.” I practically spit out the words. “You left. Disappeared. Gone.” At this point, I’m not sure what’s more surprising, the not-rain falling to the ground despite the cloudless sky, or the way my heart stutters with each breath but still yearns. Yearns.

"Please,” He starts, “Let me show you why.” He pulls back farther, through the still doorway, into the darkness of the shrouded interior of the house.

“Why the hell should I listen to you? You’re the one who left! You just up and disappear one day and never come back and now you think that just because this,” I gruffly gesture at the, well everything, encompassing both of us. My heart screams the opposite of everything I say. “Just because this, this, meeting or whatever, happened doesn’t mean I ever wanted you ba—”

The crystal beside the door starts glowing. It floats from where it’s lain on the aching wooden floor and moves to come between us. It flashes, pulsating between bright brilliant white and bleeding red, before finally dimming altogether and fading black. It clatters the ground, spinning.

“No!” It’s a whisper. I turn to look at him. His blue eyes have turned silver and distant, and his face almost disappears, with how stark and ghostly it has become. His black long curls flutter and brush off as smoke forms where he stands with his… his shroud fluttering with it. “No.” He almost pleads, collapsing onto the floor, scrambling for the black crystal.

He looks back up at me, after confirming the now still crystal moves no longer. His eyes have shifted to gold, but there’s fear in them, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. He lunges forward, grabs me by the arm, dragging me into the house. In my shock, I don’t fight back, and the door swing shut behind me with a definitive slam. It locks itself, despite the door not having an electronic lock. The rest of the house too, seems to spring to life. Lights start flickering on, I realize they’re really little flames and candles, than a modern light. My shoes untie themselves and as I’m still dragged further and further into the depths of the house, two steps and my shoes come off on their own. They stow away neatly into the little shoe rack by the door. I too, am now barefoot.

We enter a long and thin hallway lined with doors and doors and more doors that open and shut at random intervals. Paintings hanging on the walls move with life and breathe with vitality. The flames flicker, casting dark and faint and long and short shadows all across the room in a sort of dizzying nonsense.

The door at the end of the hallway opens up, and he pulls me through it, firmly locking it behind us with an old-fashioned metal cast key. He fumbles a bit with some muttered words, and I watch as the door suddenly bleeds. Gold lines curving, carving into the wooden flesh appear and disappear before he stops muttering, and they stop.

“They know.” Is all he says. “And I can’t—I can’t let them hurt! They, now they know and they won’t forgi—” He stops there. Closes his mouth firmly shut, but eyes suddenly burning molten gold and determined. He marches past me, careful not to actually push me out of the way and starts ransacking the room with fervor. Dumbfounded, I sort of move to sit even though I don’t realize I’m nowhere near a chair; to my surprise a chair lumbers up behind me just as I sit down. I don’t even register it; my eyes are focused on him. His brilliant golden eyes glowing in the dim shadow cast room of flickering flames and fire, burn bright. His black curls seem to move with a life of their own, picking things up, and moving them as he does the same to a random assortment of things around the room.

Parchment, god is that really parchment? Quill pen, ink bottle, a few decks of cards, black and dipped with gold. The entire set of books living on the shelves around the room start shuddering, moving, flying into the open canvas sack that he was throwing everything else in. Pouch after leather pouch of miscellaneous items that I can’t really identify follow suit. A few more crystals, these I don’t recognize, unlike the one he was so afraid of from moments before. Of the one that he had shown me all those years ago, that had then, blinked that brilliant blinding white and warning cautious yellow. I recall, it never ended bled black that time, it just flashed and flashed and flashed until he was gone and everything we’ve ever had, gone.

"What,” I start. My lips are dry so I lick them before trying again. “What’s happening?”

He doesn’t stop, he’s actually packing, I realize. Things are still flying and moving on their own. But he does stop, eventually, once everything is fully gone and in the canvas bag which shrinks and shrinks until its nothing but small canvas pouch no bigger than my palm. He grabs the bag; it disappears in a little poof and shower of golden sparks. He sits down, and another chair, appearing out of nowhere, shoots out to ensure he actually sits down instead of falling to the floor. The black shroud that cloaks him seems to swallow him in its gaping maw of void and nothingness. Even his limbs are eaten up, until its just the peaks I can see of the tips of his ears and his nose through the curtain of his hair, now messier than ever.

“They know.” He says. I shake my head, not really understanding.

“They know about you. I was stupid, they always say to never tell and I put you in danger and it was stupid that I showed you, I should’ve never showed you, shouldn’t have ever told you shouldn’t—” He cuts himself off with a strangled inhalation, because now, I realize, I see, golden tears dripping from his eyes. They fall in perfect pearls, landing on his shroud of black and splattering like stars against the night sky. I wait. But that doesn’t mean my heart wasn’t screaming and thrashing and crying for my mind to move, my body to move and wrap him up in my arms.

“They took me away because I showed you. I was young and stupid and I didn’t want to hide it from you! They always say to never, never show this,” He sort of, weakly gestures at the room and the situation. “Never show outsiders, they say, but I—” He chokes back a sob. He continues. “I thought you would be my forever. I wanted you to be my forever! You were, you are, I know it!” The tears don’t stop, but he lifts his head and looks at me with what I finally, finally recognize as the same look from that night he disappeared.

He didn’t leave me. He was taken from me. This… this understanding dawns on me like the rising sun, moving in tandem with the beating of my heart and the coursing white-hot anger that had simmered away in the panicked run, but now burns brighter than ever.

“You didn’t leave, did you.” I finally manage to speak my words, tongue heavy, sizzling anger steady and burning in my veins, but I don’t let it seep into my voice. He shakes his head, unable to say anything. “You could’ve come back, but you didn’t. You were scared for me.” I say this not as a question, but more of a statement, because really, I think I see it now.

He nods in affirmation.

God I’m going to punch whoever the fuck they were.

He suddenly jumps out of the chair, eyes blown wide and gold shrinking to golden rings instead of pure color where blue should have been. His pupil thins, and thins, and thins, and thins until it’s nothing put a sharp vertical line. They’re beautiful.

“We have to go,” He says in a whisper. In his hand appears a thin black stick, a wand. He reaches out for me, but doesn’t force me, not like moments before. I stare back at him. At his dripping gold eyes and smoke hair and shrouded night veil and shoeless ghostly feet. I feel the anger of ten years of loss. Of what could have been. What should have been. My grief turns brighter, bitter, better in its strength as it evolves. It’s no longer grief because I know he didn’t leave me. I know he didn’t. He was taken, and he was afraid, alone by himself and hurting.

I was going to kill them. For hurting him. For hurting me. For hurting us.

For a brief moment, I think to my life, my current one. Compared to what it is, to what it was—could have been… Yeah, I’m going to kill them.

I reach out for him. Our hands meet in the middle and yes, this is what home was. We disappear in a shower of golden sparks against the backdrop of a black night veil.

[bapdaydreams]

Jongup Scenario: Mafia AU

A/N: Well hello! I have the final instalment of my B.A.P Mafia AU. So finally I have Jongup’s Mafia AU here. I think this one might be my longest so I hope you guys enjoy it!

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Mafia AU Prologue

Yongguk Mafia AU

Himchan Mafia AU

Daehyun Mafia AU

Youngjae Maia AU

Zelo Mafia AU

Jongup was a man of few words and even fewer thoughts. He was raised to kill without thinking, kill without mercy and to kill without emotions. The first time in his life he remembers having any emotions was when he was 14. It was when he had met the 19-year-old Yongguk who had run away from home.

Jongup has been assigned a mission. It was a simple kill. In his 14 years of life he had already killed about a 100 people. He had started at the age of 11 and he had been born to do it. It was in his blood. The mission he was on was only going to take him an hour at most but then came Yongguk. Yongguk probably hadn’t meant to be there but it was just the wrong place at the wrong time.

Yongguk who had run away from home had shown Jongup kindness he had never had the luxury of. His family were assassins, they were ruthless. He wondered when his parents even had the time to meet and fall in love. They showed zero emotions. He was the youngest so often he got picked on and told he was useless and he got sent to the worst missions. He took it all with his head held high. He trained hard to be the killer he was known to be at the young age of 14.

During his mission that day though for the first time he had felt what it was like to have someone care for him. Yongguk had shared his food with him and told him why he had run away from home. Yongguk shared his dream of being the person the weak could turn to for protection and Jongup had felt so moved that he declared that him and Yongguk were friends.

His father had once warned him that friends were nothing but a weakness and that day he had made his first friend but also understood what his father had meant.

His target had shot at Yongguk while they were distracted. Jongup had felt so much hate at that moment that all he saw was red and he had mindlessly shot at his target. About 30 bullets in he felt an arm on top of his hand which was holding the gun, still pointed at the dead target.

“Stop”

It was Yongguk. He was clutching his side where the bullet had lodged it self. There was blood everywhere. Jongup felt worry.

“I’m fine”

Since then Yongguk had helped Jongup control his killer inside of him.

He had also met Himchan that night when Yongguk requested Jongup to take him to his friend’s apartment. Himchan had been so shocked to see the two but took them in without a second word and patched Yongguk up. Himchan had forced Jongup on a chair and checked him up as well.

Jongup had felt safe.

Jongup then felt tired and he slept peacefully.

In that one day he had felt so many emotions. He never knew he had so many. Yongguk had taken him to his base the next day after Himchan had gave them enough food to last them a week. Jongup questions Yongguk about the base and he smiles and says that he had been doing some work secretly and yesterday he finally had the courage to tell his dad he didn’t want anything to with his company and left.

About a year later, they met Zelo and Himchan had joined them after an incident that Yongguk said he would rather not talk about. Somewhere along the line Youngjae, Yongguk’s trusted information seller had also joined them and eventually Daehyun came along.

Jongup felt like this is what family was supposed to be like. He was proud of his little family.

But Jongup was still a man of few emotions. Every once in a while the killer in him came out and Zelo would have to knock him out with special darts that Himchan had made especially for Jongup.

So when he saw you for the first time he wasn’t sure why his heart skipped a beat. And he doesn’t know why his heart sinks when Yongguk presents him with a picture of you saying that their next mission was to kidnap you.

“Whatever you do, you are not to hurt the captive. We want information”, Yongguk says before sending them away.

Himchan is in charge for this mission, Youngjae is to say behind on their base and give them information about your location, Zelo is there for back up, Jongup is there to cover for Daehyun while Daehyun does the actual kidnapping.

Jongup couldn’t believe it when Yongguk said that you were working for their next target. Their target this time was involved in some illegal business activities like human trafficking.

The actual kidnapping is over before he knows it. Daehyun is so good at sneaking up behind people that Jongup doesn’t feel like he was needed. No one even noticed Daehyun as he got to you and pointed his gun to the back of your head.

“You’re coming with us”, Daehyun simple says and you just nod.

You don’t know what is going on. One minute you are out with your co-workers for a few drinks. You step out to make a quick call and as you ended the call you feel the cold gun against the back of your head.

You obediently do as you are told. As the man leads you, you see another coming out from a corner. You recognise him as the guy from the café. You look at him pleadingly but unfortunately he doesn’t meet your eyes.

“That was easy”, the guy who put the gun against your head, says.

The guy from the café just nods. And you realise why he won’t meet your eyes. He was one of them. They lead you to a van where two other men greet you. They take you to what they are calling their base and you just sit in the back of the van without an idea of what was going on.

The tallest of the guy introduces himself as Zelo and tells you that you will be fine as long as you do as your told.

“If you are lucky, Yongguk will let you go”, Zelo says.

“If I’m lucky”, you say.

Zelo goes on to point his friends out. The one who was driving was Himchan, the one who captured you was Daehyun, and he was loud for someone who managed to sneak behind you so quietly. And finally the guy from the café was Jongup. He doesn’t say much.

When you get to their base Zelo and Jongup lead you in. There you meet Yongguk, their leader and Youngjae.

You are made to sit down as the six boys surround you. It’s a little bit intimidating. Fuck that, you are scared. What could they want from you? Yongguk asks for your name and you give it to them.

“Do you know who you work for?” It’s Youngjae who asks.

“BtoB Company”, you say.

“Do you know what they do?” Yongguk asks.

“Barely, I am only a simple office worker. The only thing I do is silly paperwork”, you say honestly.

“What is the paper work about?”

“It’s usually about shipments and deliveries”

“Do you know what they are shipping?”

You draw a blank. You don’t know. You just know where things are being delivered. You never stopped twice to think about what was being delivered.

“Humans”, Yongguk says.

“What?”

He passes you a piece of paper. You take it with a shaking hand and your eyes skim over the paper.

One female.

Three children.

Two female.

One male.

The list goes on and on, with prices and addresses. You recognise some of the addresses. And at the bottom of the page were your name and your signature.

“Why is my name and signature there?” you ask. Your voice shakes.

“That’s what we would like to know”, Yongguk says.

“I didn’t sign this”, you say as you start shaking.

“How do we know you aren’t lying?” Daehyun asks.

That smirk on his face makes you want to wipe the floor with it.

“I believe it”, Jongup speaks up.

Everyone looks at Jongup.

“Really? The one person who is known to be the merciless killer?” Daehyun asks.

“Let’s hear your logic out, Jongup”, Himchan says.

“Hasn’t tried to run away, hasn’t lied, is clearly afraid and Daehyun, I could kill you without a second thought if you want me to live by my name”, an evil smirk graces Jongup’s face and Daehyun gulps.

“I’m ok”

“I can believe it too”, Zelo backs Jongup up.

“Yeah, me too”, it’s Himchan who spoke up next.

Yongguk eyes you with regard.

“Yeah, I had a feeling”, Yongguk sighs.

“But! I still want to keep an eye on you so unfortunately you are stuck with us”, Yongguk says.

You want to scream but bite your lip. What were you supposed to do with a gang of killers?

“Jongup”, Yongguk calls

“Yeah?”

“You are in charge of our hostage”

“What?”

“I have a name, thanks”

“Our hostage likes being called by their name instead of hostage”, Daehyun says and you still want to wipe the floor with the smirk on his face.

“Don’t listen to him”, Youngjae says.

“Anyway, Jongup will show you around and I guess Himchan is going to get you some food if you are hungry”, he says.

Himchan nods with a bright smile.

“Jongup come to the kitchen afterwards”, Himchan says and Jongup just nods.

“Well, I hoped to see you again but I didn’t think it would be like this”, you say as the rest of the guys leave the two of you alone.

Jongup hums in reply.

He looks calm but his heart skipped a beat when you told him you wanted to meet him again.

“Does this mean that I don’t have a job anymore?” you ask.

“Probably”, Jongup replies simply.

“Will I ever be allowed to leave here?” was your next question.

Jongup looks at you. His eyes are intense but you don’t feel uncomfortable.

“Once all of this is over and your name is in the clear, we will let you go”, he says and you feel relief wash over you.

“Thank you”, you say and smile at him.

He smiles back at you and your heart skips a beat. Once Jongup is done showing you around, he takes you to the kitchen where Himchan serves up some of the best curry you have ever hand. You thank him and Jongup takes you to his room. His room is bare and darkly lit. He has a bed, a sofa, a table and a wardrobe. The walls are bare and there is no picture anywhere, there are some books lying on the table but that’s it.

“You can sleep on the bed”, he says as he digs out a t-shirt and some basketball shorts from his wardrobe that you can sleep in. He points you to the bathroom in his room and tells you that you can shower.

You simply nod and do as you are told. He had been quiet gentle with you so you don’t feel too scared. Once showered you come out to see Jongup lying on the sofa with a blanket over him. His bare shoulders visible and he looks like he is reading his book.

“Are you comfortable?” you ask and he hums in reply.

You climb into his bed and snuggle up. His bed sheets smells like him and it feels comforting. You fall asleep before you know it.

And just like that you get used to your new life with the B.A.P boys. You grow closer to them and you talk to them and eat together like normal people. You sometimes forget that they are a deadly group of boys. Some times you watch Jongup and Zelo dance together. Jongup is very graceful while dancing while Zelo uses very strong and sharp movements. They are both good but different types of good. You sometimes cook with Himchan, then you help Youngjae with some of the data collecting as you are familiar with BtoB’s system and then once in a while you sing with Daehyun just to entertain him, even though he sings the most among the two of you. And you even manage to find the comfort in Yongguk’s silence. It’s mostly when the rest of the boys are out on their raids. You worry for all their safety so you keep Yonngguk company.

The biggest change is you sharing the bed at night with a shirtless Jongup. You don’t know when it happened but after a long night he had just thrown his shirt off and crawled in bed. You had a feeling that this was what he naturally did when you weren’t here but he hugged you tight as he slept peacefully.

He looked so peaceful when he slept. You brushed the hair away from his face. You poke the little mole on his nose and smile. He opens his eyes which shocks you but instead of saying anything he holds on to you tighter and buries his head in your neck before falling back to sleep.

“I think I finally got it!” Youngjae says as he calls all his members and you over one day.

He shows all of all the data and solid proof he had managed to find. He also managed to find proof that all your signatures had been forged. That would clear up your name with the police. Yougjae says that he has already sent that proof over to the police.

You thank Youngjae and he gives you a satisfied smile.

“I also found out where they are doing their business tonight”, Youngjae says as he pulls up another page with a detailed map and he explains his plans.

Yongguk gives him a nod of approval.

“It is an underground auction at a ball so, it’s time to get dressed…oh and you too”, Youngjae says looking at you.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah. You are coming with us”, Zelo says.

“What?”

“You are going to be Jongup’s date”, Himchan says.

“WHAT?” both you and Jongup yell.

“I have already decided”, Yongguk says firmly and it shuts both you and Jongup up.

You end up getting all dressed up along with Jongup. Jongup looks uncomfortable while the rest of the boys are fixing up their ties.

“This is a bad plan”, Jongup argues but no one listens to him.

“What if something goes wrong?”

“You doubt my plans?” Youngjae sounds offended.

“That’s not what I meant”, Jongup says.

“Just, relax. I got your back”, Zelo says as he grabs his gun.

Somehow the rest of the boys manage to shove you two together in a car that Himchan is driving while the rest of them follows behind in Youngjae’s usual van. Eventually all of you manage to get into the auction. Jongup has a tight hold on your hand. It is comforting. Also the fact that he has a gun hidden in his suit pocket is also comforting.

As the auction starts you prepare yourself. The plan was simple. Youngjae would find a way to turn all the lights off and in the blind panic Zelo was going to shoot all the culprit behind the auction while Jongup got you out to safety. Himchan and Daehyun were hiding among the audience for back up in case something goes wrong.

Jongup is still holding your hand.

“Ready?” it’s Yongguk speaking to them through your earpiece.

“3…2…1”

The lights go off and imminently people start screaming and you feel Jongup pull you up by your hand. He squeezes your hand and you squeeze his back in return. He swiftly leads you through the audience as you start hearing gunshots. There are more people screaming.

Jongup stops walking and pulls you in for a hug. His body heat is warm and comforting. You slowly wrap your hands around his waist.

“You will be free soon”, he whispers and he says it so sadly that your heart sinks.

Before you can say anything he lets you go. You hear a click and bright light pours in through the now open door. You feel Jongup pull your arm and push you out the door.

“Jongup!”

But the door is shut again. You start banging on the door. You stand there feeling hopeless. You hoped Jongup was safe. You hoped all of them were safe. You feel your heart sinking as you think about possibly losing Jongup.

While you are lost in your thoughts someone places a gun on the back of your head, making you freeze.

“Well, look who it is”, that was the sound of your boss’ voice, Minhyuk.

“You have been aiding those dammed B.A.P haven’t you”, he whispers in your ear.

You can’t say anything. Your mind has gone blank.

“How should I repay the favour?”

He starts walking circles around you. The gun is still pointing at you. Your mind starts screaming but you keep a calm exterior.

“Do you want to watch all your little friends die?”

“NO!”

Minhyuk laughs.

“I didn’t think so…how about I kill you first?”

You look eyes with Minhyuk and you take a deep breath. You close your eyes accepting your fate.

“Good choice”

You feel the gun on your forehead as you brace yourself. The gunshot rings in your ears but you don’t feel the pain. Instead you hear more and more gunshots. Your eyes are still shut tight but the feeling of the gun to your forehead is gone. You slowly open your eyes to see Minhyuk on the floor.

Jongup is standing there. His eyes look hollow as he carries on shooting Minhyuk’s dead body.

“Jongup!”

He doesn’t look up.

“Jongup stop!” you run to him and pull his hand back to stop him.

He finally looks at you and drops the gun. There is still a distant look in his eyes. You take his face in your hands.

“Jongup”, you whisper his name.

He looks like he is in pain but your voice doesn’t reach him.

“Jongup, you’re ok. I’m here”, you say softly as you pull his face down to your level.

You gently place a kiss on his lips and as you are about to pull away you feel his hand on the back of your head. He is kissing you back.

He whispers your name once the two of you finally pull back.

“I love you”, he whispers and you feel your heart skip a beat.

“I love you too”

You hug him tightly, happy that he was safe.

“I guess I’m not needed then”, Zelo says as him and the rest of the boys stand on the side awkwardly.

You can hear Yongguk softly chuckle over your earpiece.